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littlemisspascal · 4 years ago

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Death and an Angel part 12

Death!Din x Cupid F!Reader

Summary: It’s sort of funny though, to imagine Din being defeated by Gideon’s sword.

It’s sort of funny, except...

Well.

It isn’t really funny at all.

Rating: T

Word Count: 4,704 (good lord I’m tired...)

Warnings: angst, swearing, one brief moment of sexual harassment, lots of assumptions made, Dark Din returns and some familiar characters make themselves known

Author Note: Believe me I want Din and Cupid reunited as much as all of you do, but my dark side keeps saying just stretch it out a little bit longer 😈 All the love to each and every reader out there, the support you give me keeps me sane and happy each week ❤

Links to Part 1 and Part 11 and Part 13

Cross-posted on AO3.

Photo Inspiration:

You wipe furiously at your face, smearing tears across your cheeks, while inwardly cursing yourself for showing weakness in front of Gideon. A lump forms in your throat as you replay the last sixty seconds on loop in your head, imagining exactly how Din will react to each sentence, especially those last two words: let go. This will be the one and only time you’re thankful you can’t feel Din’s half of the bond. If he’s feeling even a smidge of the throbbing, torturous pain you’re feeling right now, experiencing both sides would have overwhelmed you. Of all the commands Gideon could have chosen, why would he choose to taunt Din with that one? It’s as if the Seraph is purposefully trying to piss Din off.

Maybe he is insane, you think, not for the first time, just as he starts to clap his hands together in applause.

“Well done,” Gideon says, almost in admiration. “You’re a much better actress than I imagined you’d be.”

“It wasn’t an act,” you snap back.

“Regardless, you’ve served your part well.” He reaches forward to pat your head, and you honestly deserve an award for not giving into the urge to break his hand. “If it would make you feel better, I could make you forget this moment ever happened. Should I require you to send a second message, it would certainly make it all the more bittersweet for you to think it was your first attempt.”

His words make no sense at first, and you merely sit there in the chair blinking back at him, some distant part of you aware of how your eyelashes are still wet and stuck together. Involuntarily, you find yourself recalling Din’s reaction to your memory loss, how he had muttered under his breath he thought someone was responsible for the blank spots. Your mouth falls open in shock as Gideon’s meaning clicks.

“You...You tampered with my memories?” you whisper.

“It wasn’t personal. There are holes in every Cupid’s head.”

Why would he use his powers so cruelly and invasively? How does he choose which memories to erase? These questions and more run through your head, but you don’t voice them aloud. Everything you’ve heard about and actually seen in person about Gideon has solidified your opinion he is a certifiable control freak. Of course he would use his memory-erasing ability to further establish his position of authority amongst the Cupids.

Your eyes drift to the Cupid twi’lek behind him. “Is that why she’s here? You brainwashed her into joining you?”

“I made my own choice,” she replies, tone as sharp as the knife she twirls with nimble fingers. It doesn’t gleam like metal, instead faintly sparkling just like your arrows do. Kyber crystal, you realize with a chill of uneasiness. “You don’t see me in a collar, do you?”

“Indeed, I cannot alter memories, only erase them. It was free will that brought Xi’an to me, not manipulation,” Gideon says with a smile, but his eyes glimmer in a way that makes your throat close up with fear. “She has become a loyal and valuable ally.”

Valuable. One word and your suspicions are confirmed. Collared or not, Xi’an is just as much a toy for Gideon to play with as you and Din are. The only difference is she doesn’t seem to realize she is one. Or, and this is a dangerous possibility, she does know and simply doesn’t give a damn.

“She’s your ally?” you echo, nervously licking your lips. “What does that mean?”

“She has dedicated herself to the achievement of my goal.”

You know he’s purposefully baiting you, but still you find yourself asking, “And that goal is?”

Gideon leans forward, invading your personal space even as you jerk backwards in your seat. The smile has been wiped from his face, replaced with narrowed eyes and a twisted scowl. He deliberately presses the unlit laser sword against the middle of your chest in the space between your breasts, thumb teasingly hovering over the activation button.

When he answers, you’ve never heard anyone else speak as seriously as him.

“To finish what I started.”

The words linger in the air the same foreboding way Din’s reapers linger around hospitals. You don’t realize you’re not breathing until Gideon steps back after several pounding heartbeats pass and your lungs are on fire. You suck in a breath of relief, but your body remains tense, recognizing the dangerous situation you’re still stuck in.

“Mayfeld,” Gideon addresses the man armed with three guns who immediately straightens. “Take her back to her cell.”

You don’t resist as Mayfeld grabs you by the upper arm and tugs you out of your seat. It’d take a miracle to incapacitate him and everyone else in the room before they subdued you. No, you can’t make any rash decisions. The right moment will come, you tell yourself. It has to.

...Right?

“So, what’s it like being Death’s soulmate?”

You’re jerked out of your thoughts by Mayfeld’s voice. You side-eye him, keeping your mouth firmly shut.

“I mean, I’ve heard he never takes off the helmet,” he continues, unbothered by your silence. “But surely you must’ve seen what’s underneath there. If it were me, I’d definitely wanna know the face of the guy I’m allegedly destined to spend the rest of my life with.”

“Allegedly?” The question slips out before you can stop yourself.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m not so much a believer in fate or destiny or true love. And now that I know the guy who’s the boss of Cupid operations?” He huffs out a breath, shaking his head. “Forget about ever trying to convince me the universe has a mortal’s best interests in mind when it allows a Seraph as bat-shit crazy as the Moff to have the power he has.”

“If you think he’s insane, why do you work for him?”

“The pay’s good,” he answers with a laugh. “Plus, if he really does pull off this plan of his, well...let’s just say I’d rather be in his corner than anywhere else.”

“You do realize though that anyone in Gideon’s corner is an enemy of Death’s?” you say, half-taunting him half-genuinely curious about his reaction.

“That thought has recently crossed my mind,” is all he replies.

The conversation comes to a halt when you arrive back at your cell. Mayfeld pushes you inside, but the force is noticeably gentler than the thug who had manhandled you earlier. Standing near the pallet, you watch as he digs a remote out of the pocket of his pants and activates the laser grid with a single press of a button.

Interesting.

You expect Mayfeld to immediately return to Gideon’s side, so you’re surprised and more than a little confused when the man continues to linger. A minute of silence ticks by and your confusion changes to frustration. What does he want?

Just as your mouth opens to snidely voice the question, the baby chooses that precise moment to sneak back into your cell. Your heart leaps into your throat as you rush forward to grab him, torn between forcibly shoving him back into the hole or foolishly attempting to hide him behind your back.

“There’s the little green guy,” Mayfeld says, and you pause at the audible note of cheerfulness in his voice. The baby coos in your arms, waving his hand in the man’s direction.

They kriffing know each other?

Mayfeld notices your bewildered expression. “What? You think none of us noticed he doesn’t like staying put? We might be mercenaries, but we’re not complete idiots.”

“You’re a heartless bastard,” you spit, holding the baby tighter against your chest. “He’s a baby and you’re doing nothing to get him out of here.”

“First of all,” he counters, holding up a finger. “Ouch. And second,” he points that same finger directly at the baby, “that little guy is older than me so calling him a ‘baby’ isn’t exactly fair.”

Your eyes sweep over Mayfeld, estimating him to be at least forty. You then look at the green face smiling back at you. Yeah, there’s no way he’s telling the truth.

“You’re a liar.”

“Maker, the hits just keep on coming.” Mayfeld rolls his eyes. “Why would I lie about his age?”

“I…” you trail off, unable to come up with an excuse.

“Exactly.” He nods smugly. “Look, he fooled me, too, with those big brown eyes of his. If I hadn’t witnessed what he can do when that collar’s off, I might have been suckered into releasing him. He’s cute, sure, but he’s also secretly a menacing gremlin.”

You frown. “What do you mean you’ve seen what he can do?”

“I mean he’s got powers. He can lift things with his mind, throw men against walls five times his size like they weigh nothing. What’s worse is he uses those powers to steal. I had a pack of cookies I was saving and he levitated them right out of my pocket.”

Your disbelief falters at that last bit. You had already surmised the baby had stolen the cookies, but not like this. Looking down at him again, the collar stands out more prominently than ever before. Xi’an told you they were purposefully designed to prohibit the use of powers. Why else would the baby wear one if he didn’t possess some type of special ability?

“You really have some serious trust issues, don’t you?” Mayfeld says, almost sounding impressed by your stubborn reluctance to believe him.

“I’m currently being held hostage by a psychopath,” you retort. “I think I’m allowed to be suspicious of a mercenary who says everything that pops into his head.”

His lips purse. “Alright. That’s a good point.”

“Isn’t it risky?” you ask, stepping closer to the gate. “Sharing all this information with me?”

“Only if you don’t appreciate the value of it all.”

Your brow furrows, not understanding.

“Look,” he lowers his voice meaningfully. “One way or another, Gideon and Death are gonna face each other and only one side will win. Gideon wins, great. Status quo unchanged. But if your soulmate wins?” He grimaces at the prospect. “By talking to you, I’m trying to cover all my bases here.”

Your brain works rapidly to fill in the blanks. “So, let me get this straight. You think that by getting on my good side, Death won’t murder you?” A wide grin stretches across your face, not the least bit friendly. “Oh, honey, you’ve got to do so much better than that. With what you’ve given me so far, the only kindness he’ll spare you is ripping your throat out quickly so you don’t suffer long.”

Take the bait.

“Oh, yeah?” A flicker of nervousness flashes across his face. He shifts his stance, arms crossing over his chest. “What would I have to do to not have that happen? I’m, uh, open to suggestions.”

Good, good, good.

“You get me the keys to these collars, I can guarantee you’ll walk out of here with every limb attached and not one drop of blood spilt.”

A long beat passes wordlessly. It would be completely silent if not for the baby’s quiet whining as he cuddles against you, unsettled by the tense atmosphere.

“You’re not the only one with trust issues,” Mayfeld says at last. “Maybe you can guarantee Death won’t kill me, but how do I know you won’t kill me with your bow yourself?”

You say nothing, not because you’re guilty of thinking of that specific scenario, but because you don’t know how to convince him you haven’t considered it. Anyone else in your same predicament would undoubtedly shoot him the first chance they got. He is an enemy after all. A minor one, true, but nevertheless contributing to the effort of keeping you separated from Din. He also clearly only has his own self-interest in mind, making him unpredictable and untrustworthy. Who’s to say he won’t attempt to double-cross you somehow?

All these reasons are valid and should make you hate him, but something inside of you isn’t allowing you to commit wholeheartedly to the feeling. And as much as it pains you to admit it, you know that ‘something’ is fear. You’ve never killed anyone before. Shot someone with an ichor arrow? Yes, several times, but not once was the wound fatal. As your list of escape options continues to dwindle though, you’re terrified of the possibility you’ll have no choice but to personally be responsible for ending someone’s life.

“There’s my answer,” Mayfeld says. His words are distressingly ambiguous, but it’s the way he bobs his head in a decisive manner and turns his back on you that causes your stomach to tie itself into knots.

Throat suddenly dry, you struggle to choke out, “Wait, I—”

He starts whistling an upbeat tune as he walks away, ignoring your attempts at reclaiming his attention. You listen hopelessly as the sound gradually grows farther and farther away, until eventually all you can hear is silence.

And once more, it’s just you and the baby alone in the cell.

You lie on the pallet, staring up at the ceiling with the baby sleeping on your stomach. You reflect on everything that has happened since you left Arvala-7, taking every moment apart piece by piece to figure out what you know.

From what you’ve witnessed, you don’t think your superiors are involved in or even aware of Moff Gideon’s plans. Lang, Hess, and Morgan were his associates, not allies like he’d called Xi’an. The difference is subtle, but profound in meaning. You wonder if the three of them have had memories erased too, if they know Gideon was responsible.

He had told them you were being hidden away to prevent other Cupids from knowing you had a second soulmate, but that wasn’t the whole truth. Gideon wants you as his hostage because you’re Din’s soulmate. He wants to use you as leverage to get Din to do what he wants. Initially, you assumed that meant kill those who Gideon considered enemies, but that assumption was proven incorrect when you sent the message to Din without naming even one potential target.

Unfortunately, you think that is not the only wrong assumption you’ve made recently. Gideon had forced you to tell Din to let go. The bond had cried out with agony when you’d said the words out loud as it had thought you were telling Din to let go of you. But looking back at the incident with a clearer head, you find yourself wondering why hadn’t Gideon included those two extra words if that was what he meant? It’s not like there wasn’t plenty of space left to write them on the paper.

If he didn’t mean for Din to let go of you, then logically that would mean he wants Din to let go of something else. Something important enough that Gideon is taking advantage of your relationship in order to convince him to release it.

But what could Din possibly possess that Gideon wants this badly? Din doesn’t own anything valuable except for the Crest and his armor, and you doubt either of those will further progress Gideon towards his goal.

To finish what I started.

Hours later and you still can’t figure out what the kriff he’s talking about. No matter which way you twist or turn the phrase over in your mind, it’s incomprehensible. What did he start? When did it happen? How does he intend to finish it?

Considering how your previous assumptions were both flawed, you really shouldn’t be making another one, but you can’t get the moment of when he’d pressed the sword against your chest out of your mind. The action itself screamed intimidation as well as sexual harassment, but when you think about how he did it at the same time he revealed his goal, your gut instinct is telling you to definitely assume the two are connected to each other.

And then there’s Mayfeld’s comment about there being an inevitable clash between Din and Gideon. He had sounded so certain there would only be one victor, but, unlike you, he hadn’t immediately placed his bet on Din. Which makes no sense to you. Everyone knows it’s an indisputable fact Din is the most powerful entity in the universe, second only to the Maker. The chance of Gideon winning their fight is so slim it’s infinitesimal.

It’s sort of funny though, to imagine Din being defeated by Gideon’s sword.

It’s sort of funny, except...

Well.

It isn’t really funny at all.

Over the span of Din’s existence, he had witnessed entire civilizations wiped out by war, genocide, disease. No matter the reason behind the tragedy, the universe always called him there in the final moments to walk amongst the ruins left behind, to watch those last to die mourn those who passed before them. In those moments, he felt powerless, knowing there was not one thing he could do to change any of it.

He realized the universe was trying to instill a lesson in him: what is meant to happen, will always happen. Regardless of who is hurt in the process.

And maybe he would have surrendered to the harsh teaching if his angel hadn’t been stolen from her rightful place at his side. No one, not even the fucking universe itself, is going to stop him from getting her back.

From their first meeting, he couldn’t get her out of his mind. Then when she asked him question after question about his likes and dislikes, his hobbies, his favorite sights in the galaxy—he made the risky decision of trusting her. He revealed his face to her, allowed her to know every part of himself, and was stunned every time she didn’t fear or run away from what she discovered. He didn’t know whether to consider her stupid or brave, but the moment he first heard her laugh at one of his sarcastic quips he knew it was a sound he wanted to hear everyday for the rest of eternity.

When she showed him her marked hand, claiming they were each other’s soulmates, he swore to himself he’d dedicate himself to her happiness. Anything she wanted or asked for, he would give to her without question.

Except now she has asked him to do the impossible: to let go.

He replays the transmission enough times every word, every quiet hitch of breath, and every subtle twitch of her facial features is embedded in his mind. Bo-Katan heaves a sigh after the eighth loop, squeezing the bridge of her nose as if a headache was forming, but he can’t bring himself to tear his gaze away from the hologram long enough to glare at the reaper. She doesn’t have a soulmate, therefore she can’t even begin to fathom how it feels when his half of the soulmate bond slams itself against the invisible wall separating him from his angel with all the unhinged ferocity of a feral beast.

If Din didn’t know his angel as intimately as she knew him, he might have believed those were her own words coming out of her mouth. However, throughout the entire length of the message he notices how her eyes nervously flick to the side every few seconds, as if she needs to reassure herself someone offscreen isn’t making any sudden movements. It’s all the confirmation he needs to know she’s being used as a mouthpiece against her will to demand Din gives up searching for her.

Din refuses to yield to the whims of an enemy who doesn’t have the balls to face him directly.

He channels his seething anger into steadfast determination as he stretches his powers out across the galaxy for a second time, this time searching for the twi’lek Hess so graciously identified for him. Her being the one to have dragged his soulmate out of Cupid headquarters couldn’t have been a random circumstance. If she has even the slightest notion of who the elusive immortal is that is responsible for shielding his angel from him, he’ll beat the name out of her just as he had her Cupid superior.

Bo-Katan, never one to stand still when she can be doing something useful, sends a message out to her fellow reapers to fill them in on the developing situation. Only Din can give them orders to follow, but she strongly recommends they interrogate any Cupid they come across for information about Xi’an.

Transmissions start flooding in an hour later of reapers reporting what they’ve learned. Turns out Xi’an is the type of person who finds joy in antagonizing others. No one claims her as their friend nor do they know what region of the galaxy she usually operates in. The most interesting tidbit learned from the interrogations is that several Cupids have admitted they often saw the twi’lek in the archives at headquarters, studying datapads and flipping through holobooks.

“She was searching for something,” Bo-Katan murmurs, brow creasing thoughtfully.

“Or she was gathering information on someone’s behalf.” Din’s eyes remained closed, focus split between the conversation and the search. “Only Cupids are allowed at their headquarters. She’d have no issue slipping in and out without anyone giving her a second—”

Every soul has a unique aura that can only be sensed by power-sensitive beings like himself. No two are the same, similar to fingerprints and snowflakes. Having a specific target in mind hastens the search of detecting them amongst the trillions of other beings inhabiting the galaxy, but it is not the fact that Din’s powers have just locked onto Xi’an’s soul that has his eyes snapping open. It is her location.

She’s on Umbriel.

“Stay with the ship,” he tells Bo-Katan.

Din teleports before the reaper responds, arriving at the front entrance of his soulmate’s apartment in the next blink. The front door is wide open and his jaw clenches as he recognizes the gesture for the taunt it is. Rolling his shoulders back, he enters the apartment, purposefully shutting and locking the door behind him.

“About time you showed up.” As soon as Din hears her voice, he’s reminded of a loth cat screeching when its tail is grabbed. The anger he’s been forcibly holding back starts to simmer beneath his armor, fingers twitching at his sides with the desire to wrap around her throat and squeeze.

He finds a purple-skinned twi’lek Cupid standing in the center of the living room. Or, what used to be considered the living room at least. Every piece of furniture has been broken and torn apart. The pile of newspapers kept in the corner are shredded and scattered across the floor. If he didn’t know how precious they were to his angel in her quest to reclaim her memories, he wouldn’t have cared about the mess, but he does know and his wrath increases exponentially.

“Xi’an,” he says, the name bitter on his tongue like a curse.

“The rumor mill says you’ve been looking for me,” she drawls, looking coy and fluttering her eyelashes. “I gotta say, I’m flattered by the attention.”

“Tell me where my soulmate is and you won’t meet the same fate as your boss.”

Her head tilts, tapping her fingers against her chin in mock thoughtfulness. “Are you referring to Hess? I heard no one’s been able to reach him lately, but since I report to someone of much higher ranking I could hardly bring myself to care.” Her lips curl into a wicked smirk, revealing the faintest glimpse of her fangs. “You’ve piqued my interest now though, what’d you do to the bastard?”

“I ripped out his soul and crushed it into dust.”

She giggles, unpleasant and shrill. “How scandalous.”

His patience snaps.

“Enough of this.” He steps forward. “Tell me who you work for and where is my soulmate.”

A pair of knives appear in her hands, summoned in the same quick manner as his angel had drawn her bow.

“My answer to the first part is no. And as for the second, you need to be more specific.” She sneers. “Which part of her are you looking for?”

The noise that tears itself out of Din’s throat is one never made by another entity before. It is an outburst of ravenous fury, a promise of bloodshed and carnage, and a predator’s roar before they consume their prey all blended into one deafening war cry.

Xi’an maintains a brave face as she throws knife after knife at him, but as each one harmlessly deflects off his beskar and dissolves into a flicker of light, he sees her mask begin to crack, revealing her nervousness.

She resorts to throwing punches when he’s close enough, but there is no finesse and each one is sloppy. He catches her fist mid-swing with his own hand and twists, shattering her wrist. She gasps out a curse, but the unexpected reappearance of her mischievous smirk manages to catch him off guard.

“Are you gonna do it?” she asks, voice tight with pain, but the intent to provoke him is clear. “Unleash that beautiful darkness I can sense writhing around inside of you?”

He pins her against the wall harsh enough her teeth audibly clack against each other. Still she keeps smirking, still her voice drips like poison into his ears.

“You know you want to, sweetie, so just let go.”

Din’s powers lash out, incensed by those two words he’s sick of hearing. Latching onto her soul, she starts to choke, but the deranged glimmer of glee in her eyes makes him think she’d be laughing if she could.

Darkness starts to ooze out of his armor, resembling thick, black smoke. He can feel the sinister energy emanating from the very core of his being, as if the box it’s been trapped in has been unlocked and is seconds away from bursting open.

Some distant, far part of him is ringing every warning alarm and urging him to stop. But he ignores that voice of reason when he sees Xi’an’s soul start creeping up the back of her mouth, glowing brightly as it squirms in a futile attempt to free itself from the hold of his powers.

He grits his teeth, impatience prompting him to tug at it again, and—

The world lurches and transforms in a blur. When his vision adjusts, he’s no longer standing in his soulmate’s apartment, but instead surrounded by an abundance of scorched trees. Chest heaving, he struggles to clear his head of violent thoughts and make sense of what just happened.

Someone suddenly calls out from behind him, “I summoned you here to speak with you.”

Din recognizes the speaker’s voice before he actually turns to see the female togruta. She wears her usual blue-and-silver tunic and a brown headpiece embedded with a gem over her montrals. The ground is green beneath her feet, the only glimpse of flourishing nature for miles.

“I was in the middle of something, Ahsoka,” Din answers, stalking forward until they stand nearly toe to toe. He’s lost count of how many encounters they’ve had with one another over the years, but no matter the number he remains reluctant to consider her a friend since the Oracle has the irritating knack for disrupting his life when he least desires her presence.

She stands tall, but her hands move to rest on the hilts of the two sabers attached to her belt. “Have you forgotten your creed? When the universe needs you, you listen to it.”

“My soulmate needs me!” he shouts, trembling as another pulse of dark energy discharges from his body. It washes over Ahsoka like a harsh gust of wind, but while she remains unaffected, the patch of grass withers instantaneously.

“The universe recognizes that,” Ahsoka says, and while her calmness does nothing to ease his frayed nerves, her next words have him freezing in place. “And I’ll take you to her so long as you promise me one thing.”

Tentative hope slices through the erratic storm of frenzied emotions in his chest like a beam of sunlight. He searches Ahsoka’s face for the faintest hint of deception, but finds only sincerity.

“What is it?”

“You cannot kill Moff Gideon.”

Tag List: @leilei-draws, @theocatkov, @vintagesaph, @stardust-and-starlight, @adrieunor, @remmyswritings, @gallowsjoker, @rhiannon-russo, @randomness501, @sylphene, @softly-sad, @maytheglitter, @melobee, @rogertaylorsfalsettogivesmehives, @eleinemk, @captain-jebi, @aerynwrites, @promiscuoussatan, @stilllivindue2spite, @coaaster, @lin-djarin, @oh-no-a-whovian, @over300books, @chibi-yuki, @becauseican2, @kay2304, @odelia-d32, @nicotinebirds

#din x you #din x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x reader #the mandalorian x reader #Din Djarin #Pedro Pascal #my fic #my writing #death and an angel #pedro pascal character fanfiction

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olivia-anderson-fanfic · 4 years ago

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A Miraculous TikTok Account

Part 33

First

Chloe was having fun.

Sure, the glitter had spread throughout the house and now there wasn’t a single surface that didn’t sparkle, but that didn’t affect her in the slightest. Her bees were happy to move away pieces of glitter for her. SHE didn’t have to worry about choking on glitter accidentally (it was all nontoxic and edible, Ladybug had assured them, but that didn’t mean it was fun to eat), so she got to enjoy all the upsides of what was going on.

Someone had messed up! And it wasn’t her for once!

It was kind of an odd feeling, to be honest. No one in the house was even slightly annoyed with her. She’d messed up yesterday and had to call Ladybug for backup and she didn’t even do the little tongue click she did when she was annoyed! It was progress!

(Progress that relied on everyone either being upset with someone else or too concerned about consequences to say anything, but progress nonetheless.)

So, yeah, she was going to bask in this newfound okayness for as long as possible.

Yeah, she felt bad for Chat, but he kind of deserved… some of it. It wasn’t right of Chat to reveal something so important to her to the public without her permission. He deserved some consequences… but did he deserve this kind of extremely targeted takedown? No.

Speaking of extremely targeted takedowns, Chat screamed for the third time since the video came up.

Chloe took off her gardening gloves and headed up the stairs to see what all the fuss was about.

Chat was in the doorway to his room yet again and a part of her wondered if an akuma had put them in a time loop…

But no. He was fine -- well, that wasn’t true. He still had many flecks of glitter on him despite the many showers he had taken, and his hair was still green, and he still had a few pimples… but it looked like nothing new had happened so why? Had he just caught his reflection in a mirror or something and yelped in surprise? That didn’t seem like him, so what was it?

She walked over to ask, and then she saw his room.

“Oh dang.”

Ladybug had gone through the effort to coat the entire floor of the room in glitter. Everything of use was untouched (the bed, the piano, the gaming consoles, even old chip bags), but there was a perfect centimeter of glitter on the floor.

Chat stared at his room in dismay for a moment before slowly trudging a rut through the glitter to faceplant on his bed. Chloe watched him reach around on the bed until his kwami nudged a pillow into his hand. He curled around it and didn’t move. Plagg floated over to nuzzle into his holder’s hair.

She hesitated, hands on her hips.

It would be so easy to just turn around and walk away. She desperately wanted to. After all, she was only getting this kind of peace while Chat and Ladybug fought. Solving the problem was definitely not in her best interest. And no one would even bat an eye if she didn’t, since everyone apparently thought her to be a bad person despite her job as a HERO --.

An angry buzz started under her skin. FINE. She’d help him.

But first she was going to do something annoying. Balance things out.

She took out her phone and started recording, and then she pushed the door open.

The room was completely dark outside of a thin ray of blue light.

Carapace was sitting at his desk, his posture resembling that of a shrimp, eyes trained on his computer. His screen was casting a pale blue light over his features that made him look more ghost than human, which was helped by the bags under his eyes and the absolutely dead expression on his face.

She turned the light on. She would have thought he was too in the zone to notice if the clicking of his computer hadn’t come to a stop.

“Hey, buddy, how are midterms going?” She asked, making sure to use her happiest voice.

There was a beat where Carapace didn’t answer, and she considered repeating herself.

He slowly looked up at her, his face completely devoid of emotion.

“... buddy?” She said, a little more careful, because the lack of response was starting to make her anxious.

He still didn’t answer. She transformed, because it was getting really creepy and she was starting to wonder if he was actually an akuma or something.

And then he spoke: “If I get akumatized and succeed in killing my literature professor then I don’t have to take the final.”

“... there would probably be a substitute.”

“Not if I kill all the substitutes in Paris.”

She hesitated, because he wasn’t exactly WRONG…

An akuma fluttered through the window and both of their attentions snapped to the black and purple blur.

They locked eyes.

The camera caught Carapace slowly reaching towards it for just a second before it started shaking as Chloe launched herself to intercept the akuma.

“WAIT NO --!”

The TikTok ended there.

She scrolled through the comments and subreddit dedicated to them.

Good. As she’d expected, the video of Carapace being less nice than usual had had a similar effect as the video of Ladybug acting less than perfect. People were stunned that they were not, in fact, the only person to exist to ever be multi-faceted.

She nodded to herself. Discussion of Ladybug’s true personality had died down. That should put her in a good mood.

The next day, Chloe grabbed Ladybug by the back of her hoodie -- wait, no, that was actually Carapace’s hoodie; she must have stolen it from him -- before she could leave for work.

Ladybug blinked and turned to look at her. “Yeah?”

“‘bug, you’ve gotta talk to him.”

She watched her slight smile drop off of her face almost instantly.

“I get he messed up, but we both know you’re taking this WAY too far. No more pranks, you two need to act like the adults you are and talk it out.”

Ladybug looked at the ground for a moment, then the tension slowly seeped out of her.

“Fine. I’ll talk to him tonight.”

Chloe nodded and let go of the hoodie. Ladybug pulled the hood over her head and the fabric nearly swallowed her.

Chloe smiled at her and waved her off.

She wasn’t scared of Ladybug, but she did wait until she was down the street before adding: “Also, I’m cleaning up all the glitter!”

And she also closed the door very quickly.

~~~

Taglist

@nathleigh @sassakitty @th1s-1s-my-aesthet1c @blueslushgueen @woe-is-me0 @ladybug-182 @cas-and-their-refusal-to-write @trippingovermyfeet @melicmusicmagic @meimei3841 @roseliali

#a miraculous tiktok account #queen bee #chloe bourgeois #chat noir #adrien agreste #carapace #nino lahiffe #ladybug #marinette dupain cheng #rena rouge #alya cesaire #miraculous team #miraculous fic #ml fic #mlb #chloenette #chlonette #adrino

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jinterlude · 4 years ago

Text

Protecting Each Other

↳ Header created by the amazingly talented @kimtaehyunq from the BHQ’s Banner Request Board.

—Pairing: Seokjin x OC (Sumin) —Genre(s): The Last of US!AU, Zombie Apocalypse!AU, Fluff, Romance, Angst, Fantasy, Slight-Action, & Slight-Humor —Warning(s) / Rating: zombies, semi-graphic description of violence (mainly shooting and killing zombies), weapons (guns and a sword), light graphic description of injuries, blood, brief mentions/hints of deaths of a loved one, light suggestive moments (mainly making out), & swearing / 18+ —Word Count: 16K —Summary: In just one year, the virus swept the planet, destroying everything and everyone in its path and drastically changing the world. However, at least one thing is for certain—Seokjin & Sumin will always have each other.

—A/N: The moment you guys have been waiting for! It is the release of my BB Summer Collaboration Fic! Cue the cheers and confetti! I’m quite proud of myself with how this turned out! I would like to thank my soup friend and forever my number one supporter, Jey @softjeon. It is because of her that this story even came to be the way it is, so this story is dedicated to her.

↬ It is also dedicated to my amazing people: @jinned, @hobiance, @j-sope, @mindays, @ppersonna, @miamorjoon, @parksfilter, & @mygsii. Thank you guys for supporting me and just cheering me on when I needed it. You are truly one of a kind. ↫

» Feedback is always appreciated and thanks for giving my story a chance!

Destruction. That single word echoed in Sumin's mind frequently—on an endless loop. The faint smell of burnt and decaying flesh invaded her poor nostrils as the exhausted young woman carefully maneuvered around the lifeless bodies. Her eyes surveyed her current surroundings, noting how colorless the world had become. How the suffocating silence circled her, engulfing her entire body. Oh, how she missed the times where the sounds of laughter and lively chatter greeted her like a dear old friend. Instead, it was either the painful silence or agonizing screams that said, "hello," to her.

No longer did she see the vibrant colors that caught her attention before the outbreak began. Shifting her gaze downwards, she noted her attire. A faint yet amused smirk formed on her lips as she thought about the irony of her previous observation. She, too, no longer wore bright colors. Now, she wore all black from head to toe.

Her leather jacket? Black.

Her shredded jeans? Black.

Shoes? Black.

Every article of clothing that covered her bruised and wounded body was dark. Well, at least she'd be ready to pay her respects if someone close to her tragically died.

Now, standing in front of a man, who's currently crouched down catching his breath, Sumin remained on high alert. Her right hand gripped the hilt of her Japanese sword to the point that her knuckles turned white. Meanwhile, her left hand held the trusty semi-automatic pistol in front of her. Her index finger rested nicely on the trigger—ready to pull it back at even the faintest snarl heard. She needed to be prepared to fall into action. She couldn’t afford to falter because if she did, then it would cost her significantly. Her hesitation would cost her the life of the person who was the keeper of her heart. She would lose her long-time companion—Seokjin.

Protecting that man was the reason she needed to stay alive. Sadly, he was her only reason to do so. Her family and friends had tragically died one-by-one over the years. To be exact, it was ten years. Ten fucking years since this outbreak came into the picture. Ten fucking years since the zombie attack destroyed any ounce of normalcy she established since she was a child. Then, in a blink of an eye, it was gone, vanished with a snap of someone's fingers.

Only her boyfriend remained by her side, and the protective young woman prepared to do everything and anything to ensure it stayed that way.

As Sumin continued to stare into the fog, searching for any strange shadows, her eyes picked up a faint sound. Her breath hitched as she clutched her weapons, prepared to attack at any second. Suddenly, she felt a presence behind her. Then, out of the corner of her eye, she noticed a hand. Without a second thought, she swiftly turned around, pointing her pistol at the person's forehead. At the same time, the blade of her sword pressed into the intruder's neck.

But then, she dropped her weapons, both of the lethal items dangled by her side. A long sigh of relief exited her lips as the exhausted Sumin gave the person a dirty look.

"Jesus, Seokjin. I could've easily slaughtered you. You know that right." She scolded the young man, who only chuckled in response, which further irritated her.

Seokjin wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close as he planted a sweet kiss on her temple.

Sumin grimaced and pushed him away, "Ew. I'm all sweaty and bloodied up, Jinnie. No kissing until you and I shower," and just as she finished her statement, she dreaded it instantly. This sense of mischievousness twinkled in his eyes. His lips formed this playful smirk.

Oh, boy. Those two features never made a great combination in Sumin's book. If anything, what came next always left her either a blushing mess that couldn't string a coherent sentence together or chasing the idiot and threatening to punch him.

Silently, she prayed it would be the latter. Sumin wanted to make sure that she could still punch an undead person.

"Jinnie..." She began, forcing a sweet smile on her filthy face, "You better choose your next words carefully or else."

Seokjin's smirk grew, "I don't know what you're talking about sweetheart," He took a step forward, "I was about to suggest something that any loving boyfriend would do for his wonderful girlfriend." He shrugged as his eyes flickered towards Sumin for a moment.

Sumin's breath hitched but soon composed herself.

"Oh, so that's how he wants to play. Game on, Jinnie boy..." She amusingly thought, nodding her head slowly as an alluring smile crept on her face.

Without any warning, Sumin turned the pistol's safety on and tried to fire the gun as a precaution. She then tucked the firearm away in her thigh holster. She secured her prized weapon in its confinement, whistling softly to herself.

As she did that, this unsettling sensation washed over Seokjin's body. His heart raced as if he ran away from a hoard of starving zombies. He suddenly felt parched as Sumin continued to instill fear in him. Her body crouched as she tightened the shoelaces on her boots. How completely still she was as she did something so minuscule. His eyes continued studying her body language, noting how completely balanced she was. He subtly tilted his head, hoping to get a better look at his princess.

"Speaking of ass..." His eyes drifted down Sumin's back, but he forced himself out his unholy thoughts, "Wait, now is not the time to be checking out your girlfriend, Seokjin." He shook his head furiously. His ears perked up at the random sound Sumin made as she stood up. She dusted off her torn jeans before turning her body towards him. An overly sweet smile greeted the scared man.

Seokjin flashed a smile, chuckling nervously at her as he swallowed his saliva; his Adam's apple bobbed a few times. Sadly, it only made him thirstier.

His tongue swept the bottom of his dry lips. Then, he spoke,

"Princess," He began, clearing his dry throat, "Are you preparing for another battle with the undead?" A nervous chuckle escaped his lips, "You know, the more you whistle, the more anxious I become. Do you want that, Sumin? Do you want to be dealing with a nervous boyfriend while we fight for our lives? I think not!" He finished his rather dramatic yet short monologue.

Sumin's face went poker-faced as she nodded her head slowly. No words escaped her lips, maintaining the eerie silence that surrounds the environment. Her eyes narrowed as she homed in on her target. She cracked her neck, releasing the tension in her muscles as she took a step toward the poor man.

As she stepped forward, Seokjin stepped backward. The attractive couple continued this rather odd dance for a few minutes until - suddenly - Seokjin grabbed his pack and bolted away from the menacing young lady.

Sumin bolted after him, shouting at him to stop being such a coward and face her like a real man. Though, she was careful not to alert any enemies of their presence. The last thing she wanted to deal with, on top of Seokjin behaving like a child, was a mob of ravenous zombies.

Yup...definitely not on her nonexistent to-do list.

With her lungs practically begging for air, Sumin refused to let that man escape her grasps. She easily dodged the low hanging branches while keeping her eye on the prize. The prize of closing the gap between her and Seokjin, so she could punch the living shit out of him. What made the situation funnier was that Seokjin taunted her endlessly. Each insult that spewed out of that gorgeous man's mouth fueled her desire - that competitive drive - to tackle him to cold hard concrete.

Then, as if God answered her wish, Sumin's eyes gleamed with excitement as she focused her attention on his perfectly still body.

"HA! I knew you'd stop being such a little bitch and take my punch like a mature adult!" She exclaimed as she jogged up to him. Just as she drew back her fist, she swiftly caught on to Seokjin's odd expression. No longer did he wear this playful mask but now dawned an emotion that Sumin thought she'd never see again.

Complete and utter disbelief.

Carefully, Sumin placed a warm hand on the young man's broad shoulder; her eyes dripped with concern.

"Jinnie..." The concerned lady began but was soon interrupted.

"Do you know where we are, Sumin?"

"I...uh..."

"Imagine everything lit up. The entrance sign lit so brightly that blinded anyone who dared to stare directly at it. Now, add the sounds of the arcade and carnival games going off every second as loud chatter mixes in with the lively atmosphere. Children that scattered all over the fairgrounds as they ran towards their parents, screaming from excitement as they begged their parents to win them yet another gigantic stuffed animal."

Sumin still didn't quite understand what Seokjin was talking about until he said,

"Look at the broken-down stand in the far-right corner," He pointed in that specific direction, "You see those beaten up stuffed animals?" He asked as he intertwined their fingers together. He then guided the two of them towards the row of carnival games. The unhappy pair carefully maneuvered around the fallen debris, planning their steps accordingly. The last thing they wanted to do was deal with one of them having a broken ankle.

The more Seokjin and Sumin adventured down the row of destroyed carnival games, the more Sumin's face became solemn as sadness washed over her entire body. Her jaw clenched, and her breath hitched. She couldn't believe it. She took in every single torn down - practically shredded - dull banners as she passed the poorly maintained game stands. The same game stands she and Seokjin used to frequent every summer and the reason she came home with a massive pile of stuffed animals. It was thanks to that lovesick fool that she no longer had space in her closet for her cuddly friends. At the same time, it was because of those soft stuffed animals that got her hooked on Seokjin's charms in the first place.

God, the more she reminisced about her countless summer spent at this fair, the more she became depressed. However, she couldn't stop thinking about those specific moments in her life. After all, those days led her to the man that she absolutely could never imagine living her life without him.

"I wonder if this place was the first to go?" asked Sumin, voicing her innermost thoughts as her doe-like gaze switched to Seokjin. She noted how tight his jaw was as if he tried his hardest to maintain his composure.

"I hope not..." He trailed on as he continued to survey his surroundings, "Though, it wouldn't surprise me if it was since the annual summer fair always drew in a massive crowd." He finished, letting out a soft, airy chuckle.

The corners of her lips curved upward as Sumin read his mind.

"Yeah. Kind of how it drew us together for the very first time, right?"

"What do you mean, kind of drew us together? It matched two beautiful people together."

Sumin's face fell, "Are you sure? Because I remember our fateful meeting quite differently."

Seokjin gawked. He couldn't believe the words that came out of his princess' mouth.

"Oh, do tell how that day went, then, Minnie

"Gladly...!" She exclaimed with an intriguing twinkle in the corner of her eyes.

Seokjin scoffed playfully, "Oh, I can't wait to hear this."

The petite young female shot an irritated look at the attractive man before beginning her tale.

"Well, as you know, it started on that Friday evening. You had just gotten out of her last class of the week and..." Sumin trailed on. Her words echoed in the back of Seokjin's mind as he, too, recalled their meeting so vividly.

For the twentieth time that evening, Sumin checked her appearance using her front-facing camera. Her trembling hands ran through her beach curled hair, positioning it in a way that made her look charming yet radiated innocence. It wasn't every day that she was set up on a blind date by a good friend of hers. However, she wasn't a stranger to the dating scene, so why did she feel so damn nervous? Why did her heart pound against her chest as if she ran from her house to the fairgrounds?

Suddenly a look of complete and utter dread washed over her face as this horrendous thought implanted itself in her frenzied mind. Without a second thought, Sumin subtly smelled herself, praying to every God known to man that her sweet rose perfume still lingered around her body. She sneakily raised her arms and took a quick whiff under her armpits.

"Oh, thank God. My tropical fruit-scented deodorant is still working." She thought as this massive sigh of relief exited her lips. She dropped her arm, and as she raised her head, her eyes went round. Her breath hitched as this feeling of embarrassment hit her like a tidal wave.

"Please don't be my blind date. Please don't be my blind date." She repeatedly chanted as a drop-dead gorgeous man started walking up to her. With every footstep, he slowly closed the gap between them, and as he closed that distance, Sumin's anxiety increased. The butterflies in the pit of her stomach flew into a flurry, which only caused the poor young girl to smile nervously. She also chuckled softly as she awkwardly waved her hand.

"Great. Now, that handsome fellow is going to think I'm this huge doofus." She mused as she quickly mustered the sweetest smile and introduced herself.

"Nice to meet you, Sumin. I'm Seokjin, but my friends call me Worldwide Handsome." The handsome fellow greeted back, playfully winking at her as he displayed this thousand-watt smile.

Sumin became lost for words. She slightly parted her mouth as she wrapped her mind around the fact that this attractive man seriously said that his friends called him "Worldwide Handsome." Her eyes flickered with annoyance before switching back to politeness.

But before she could ask him if he was serious, Seokjin beat her to it.

"I'm kidding. My friends don't call me that," Another wave of relief washed over Sumin, but once she heard Seokjin's next sentence, that moment of peace was over, "I call myself that. I've been spending my entire high school career trying to get my tasteless friends to admit that I'm good looks are enough for me to hold the title of 'Worldwide Handsome.'"

Out of nowhere, Sumin felt a slight twitch in her right eye. Her body heated up. Her breathing grew heavy as her nostrils flared slightly.

Yeah, they didn't even get past the formalities., and his words ended the date right there.

As the irked young lady opened her mouth, ready to apologize to him that she wanted to end the date, a high-pitch noise emitted from his lips. It was almost as if she activated her car's windshield wipers.

"Oh, my God, I can't keep this charade up any longer," He paused, continuing his fit of laughter. The laughter grew too much for him as he clutched the sides of his stomach. "Congrats, princess. You passed." He vaguely announced, further irritating Sumin.

The serious honey-brown haired woman stared at the tall immature man through slit eyes. Her mind battled if she should ask him to clarify or not. Part of her - scratch that - most of her wanted to go home, but, sadly, the curious side got the best of her, so she asked Seokjin what he meant by his strange words.

The towering, well-dressed man cleared his throat, "Well, my young and surprisingly beautiful princess, what I meant is that you passed the, 'can this potential girlfriend handle my arrogant side and be honest with her reaction rather be fake?' test." He answered, keeping this calm tone of voice.

Suddenly, Seokjin shot Sumin with a playful wink, as he dug out his wallet from the pocket of his light pastel blue zipper hooded sweatshirt. A faint, "ah-ha," escaped his plump lips as he waved his black leather wallet in front of the unamused female.

Sumin raised her brow, finding Seokjin's actions odd and silently berating herself for not going home yet. She couldn't quite put her finger on it, but something in the back of her head told her to continue humoring the princely idiot.

Her conscience had better be right.

"Is that your hint that you want me to pay for our entrance tickets?" inquired Sumin as she prepared to dig for her wallet in her cotton candy-colored purse. However, as her fingertips grazed the zipper of the wallet, Seokjin gently grasped her wrists. For a split second, a single strand of electricity shot up through her right arm, igniting the nerves that laid beneath.

The longer Seokjin touched her wrist, the more Sumin's cheeks became heated. Just this once, Sumin was glad that it was Summer. She could easily blame the heat on her flushed cheeks, and not the fact that she felt this unspeakable spark between them.

Not wanting to become a blushing mess, Sumin gently tore her hand away from his grasp—much to Seokjin's dismay. Unknown to her, but he felt that spark as well. Never in his years of dating other women did he feel the same that Sumin did. The kicker was that she didn't even know that she had this hold - this magnetic pull- over him. Seriously. She could ask him to tell his friend Jungkook that he sucked at bowling, and he would gladly do it even though it was a death wish in doing so.

Wait, what happened? Where did those thoughts come from as he usually would never think about that, especially towards a woman he had just met? Pushing the confusion away, Seokjin lightly shook his head and plastered a sincere smile on his attractive face.

"Anyway, since we are losing daylight, why don't we go inside the fairgrounds, and yes, I'm gonna pay for your ticket. Don't argue with me on that, okay?" He kindly suggested as he maintained the wicked smile that caused both men and women to swoon over him.

Sumin chuckled, "Alright, you can pay for my entrance ticket, but I'm gonna pay you back by winning you a stuffed animal, cool?" She said with a sunny, innocent smile.

Seokjin's body slightly froze as he thought, "Okay, she might have beaten me in terms of having a smile that caused hearts to skip a beat," He quickly pulled himself back into reality and agreed to Sumin's suggestion.

Though, it wouldn't result in her trying to win him a stuffed alpaca. An hour into their date, Sumin wanted to succeed at winning him that cuddly stuffed alpaca but kept losing at the ring toss. Refusing to give up, the stubborn young lady shelled out another ten-dollar bill and slammed it on the wooden counter.

"Alright, Seokjin, prepare to- wait, what are you doing?" She questioned as Seokjin took the tiny plastic ring from her dainty hands.

The equally as determined man positioned himself in front of her and said,

"I'm gonna win you that alpaca, princess," He stretched his right arm, warming up his muscles, "So, prepare to be amazed by my professional throwing skills!" He announced; his voice was almost loud enough to be overheard by every single person at the carnival.

Sumin giggled softly, shaking her head playfully. Then, a brilliant yet bold idea popped into her mind.

With a seductive grin painted on her lips, Sumin stood on the tips of her toes and courageously planted a kiss on Seokjin's cheek. On the outside, Sumin appeared calm as a clam. However, on the inside, it felt like there was a tornado in the pit of her stomach. Then, a feeling of regret followed, but Sumin pushed it away. A good friend of hers told Sumin that she needed to be confident and more flirtatious. Now, she hoped that her friend's advice paid off.

"I'm sorry if that was too forward, I thought you could use a kiss for good luck?" Sumin quickly apologized, averting her gaze. Her cheeks became flushed as the bashful woman messed with the hem of her dress.

Then, a hand clamped over hers before the cold sweat from her hands left an embarrassing stain.

Sumin's eyes trailed upward and soon widened with how close Seokjin's face was. He was so close that their noses were merely inches away from bumping into each other.

As the doe-eyed Sumin parted her mouth to speak, Seokjin gently pressed his right index finger on her lips. Sumin's gaze flickered to his hand, noticing the plastic ring hanging on his pinky.

"First, thank you for that sweet kiss. It granted me all the luck in the world needed to win these rigged carnival games," He removed his index finger and stood up straight, "Second, now I'm even more determined to win you that alpaca so that I can get another kiss. Perhaps, this time, maybe on the lips?" He flirted, winking at her before he turned his back towards her and prepared to play the ring toss game.

Sumin mustered enough courage and composed herself.

"Let's talk after you win me, RJ."

"RJ?"

"Yeah, that's going to be the name of our cuddly stuffed animal."

Seokjin chuckled at how adorable Sumin was.

"Okay, RJ, it is."

Sumin cheered as she shook her hands in excitement, eager to hug the alpaca.

Her cheers faded into the back of his mind as Seokjin gently pulled himself away from that beautiful memory. It honestly felt so real to him. The smell of deep-fried food lingered around his nostrils while the sounds of Sumin's cute protests echoed in his ears. A reminiscent smile formed on his gorgeous face as he recalled the events that happened after he successfully won her RJ. She dragged him around each food stand and paid for any item that they wanted to try together, though Seokjin offered to pay for the more expensive food items. However, being the stubborn woman that she was, Sumin swatted his hands every time he reached for his wallet.

To this day, he could still feel the stinging sensation on the backs of his hands. Who would've thought that his princess had some strength to her?

"Why are you rubbing your hand, Jinnie?" Sumin's voice pulled Seokjin away from his thoughts. He glanced down and low and behold; he did rub his hand as if she smacked his hand a few minutes before. He ceased his odd action and then threw a warm and loving arm around Sumin's shoulders and pulled her close.

"Don't worry about it, princess, but I still think that you told some aspects of our first date incorrectly." He teased with a lop-sided grin. "If I remember that night correctly, it was I who tried out the ring toss stand first," He playfully tapped Sumin's nose, "And it was you came to my aid like the breathtakingly goddess protector I know you are." He finished before innocently pecking her sweet lips.

Sumin playfully rolled her eyes as the corner of her mouth curved upward. She then lightly shoved her foolish boyfriend, creating space between them.

"Anyway, where should we go next? We still need to find these so-called, 'Fireflies,' if we want any answers on this cure." She asked, surveying the abandoned fairgrounds. Her eyes flickered from every direction, ensuring that there weren't any abnormal shadows nearby.

A faint hum emitted from Seokjin's mouth as he, too, looked around. Then, something captured his attention as he was about to finish his search. He quickly focused his gaze onto the Ferris-wheel as he annoyingly pushed Sumin, repeatedly telling her to look into the distance.

The annoyed honey-brown haired girl lightly slapped his hand away, demanding that he stop being weird.

"I can't help it. You just make me a fool for you, Minnie." Seokjin flirted, causing his girlfriend to gag.

"I swear you are too much sometimes," She readjusted the strap that held her Katana, "But, when you want to, you do spout some intellectual things," She smiled brightly at Seokjin, "Let's head towards that Ferris-wheel and use it as our vantage point." She suggested, which of course, Seokjin agreed as he laced his fingers with hers. Then, the two hiked over to the gigantic wheel, hoping that it could give them some form of a clue.

Minutes later, the duo arrived in front of the rusty Ferris-wheel. The curious young woman broke away from her boyfriend as this strange magnetic pull forced her to step towards the poorly maintained ride. Her fingers grazed the rough cold metal as Sumin noted both the rust and vines that surrounded the wheel.

"It's so strange..." muttered the shocked girl as she stepped back.

Seokjin slowly nodded, unsure what to say next as specific memories plagued his mind. Thoughts of him and Sumin passing by this very Ferris-wheel as he begged her to go on it with him. Whenever he explained to Sumin why they had to ride this attraction, he always told her that it was part of the book of romance. Naturally, his sweetheart demanded that she sees this book so that she could see that so-called rule. The more he thought of that event, the more he chuckled.

His princess was always the skeptical one, but that made their relationship refreshing. They never behaved like any other couple, and he wouldn't want it any other way.

As he forced himself away from his beautiful memories of his lovely lady, he noticed Sumin doing something strange in the corner of his eye.

"Uh...sweetheart? What are you doing?" questioned Seokjin as he continued to watch his girlfriend with curiosity.

Sumin hummed as she glanced over her shoulder, "Oh, I’m gonna climb the Ferris-wheel and use it as our vantage point." She explained as she undid the belt that held her Katana and shrugged off her leather jacket.

"I see...I see..." Then, her words finally registered in his mind, "I'm sorry? Did you say that you were going to climb the Ferris-wheel? Miss ‘I'm afraid of heights’?" He asked with a quizzical expression on his face. The longer he thought about his girlfriend climbing up that poorly maintained carnival attraction, the more he became concerned. It didn’t help that those worries conjured up every worst-case scenario known to man and flooded his mind with them.

Yeah…

He definitely did not want Sumin climbing up there, and just as he shrugged off his jacket, Sumin spoke,

"Yup! Now, stay down here and keep watch, okay? You have my sword if you need an extra weapon." She said with a cheerful smile, reassuring her worried boyfriend. It was as if she read his mind and wanted to wash away his unnecessary concerns.

Seokjin looked utterly stunned. Every time he opened his mouth to say something, Seokjin swiftly closed it as he knew that he couldn't stop his headstrong princess from doing something if she already made up her mind.

Letting out a defeated sigh, Seokjin quickly hugged her and placed a warm kiss on her temple. As he pulled away, he told her,

"Remember what I told you the first time we rode this together?"

"Yeah...don't look down."

Seokjin uttered a quick, "good," as he released his loving hold on Sumin and watched her start her journey up the rusty fair ride.

His eyes remained glued on her body as he watched the love of his life climbed up the ladder of the neglected attraction. Seokjin's mind drifted to the first time he successfully got his princess to ride the Ferris-wheel as he stared at her fading backside, slowly becoming one with the sky.

Crossing her arms underneath her chest, Sumin blinked a few times. She tilted her head slightly as she tried to comprehend the fact that her boyfriend of almost two years wanted her to go to the Ferris-wheel. Also known as the fair's local death trap.

A short yet heavy sigh escaped the hesitant woman as her gaze focused on Seokjin, who currently nibbled on his bottom lip. A cute little habit that Seokjin had whenever he was deep in thought. That was one of the many quirks she learned about him over their two years of being together. The fun part of that sentence was that he always had her learn something new about him every day.

That was one part of their loving and entertaining relationship that she would never trade for the most expensive diamond in the entire universe.

Seokjin was priceless, and Sumin was incredibly lucky to be with someone like him.

Speaking of which...

"Okay, I got the ultimate bribery for you, princess!" Seokjin piped up, pulling Sumin away from her loving thoughts.

The corners of her lips turned up as curiosity burned in Sumin's eyes.

"Oh? And, what are you exactly going to bribe me with, huh, Jinnie boy?" She asked with hints of playfulness in her words.

Seokjin chuckled, "I'm glad you asked, my curious kitten," He then pointed at the nearby cotton candy stand, "If you go on the Ferris-wheel with me, I will buy you all the cotton candy your heart desires!" He exclaimed with eyes practically pleading Sumin to say yes.

A hum escaped her lips as Sumin lightly tapped her chin; her bottom lip jutted out as she "seriously" thought about his offer.

"I don't know, Seokjin, you know well enough that I'm deathly afraid of heights, you're practically asking me to risk my life just for tonight since you want to see the 4th of July firework show at the top of the wheel," Sumin lightly shook her head, "You're gonna have to do better than that, Jinnie." She stated, shrugged her shoulders.

Seokjin's eyes narrowed on her as he mentally cursed at how argumentative Sumin could get—when she wanted to be. He made a mental note to make sure that his princess never hung out with a particular headstrong friend of hers. If he didn't know any better, he knew that Sumin's good friend more than likely told her about his romantic plans for their 4th of July celebration.

"That pain in the ass..." He muttered to himself, rolling his eyes.

Unfortunately, for him, Sumin heard his words and assumed that he called her that. However, she knew better not to start a fight with him over an assumption. She learned that lesson the hard way after an evening of arguing with him over a hunch that almost caused them to break up just before the night of their big first-anniversary date. From that night on, Sumin learned to always ask for clarification. She vowed never to feel that devastating heartbreak again.

Mustering an innocent smile, Sumin eyed him accusingly, "I'm sorry, who's 'that pain in the ass'?"

Seokjin nearly choked on his spit. His body tensed. He then slowly focused his gaze onto the woman that not only made his heart skip a beat but also instilled fear into him. There was nothing in between those two feelings.

The nervous young man opened his mouth to speak but soon closed it as he had to pick his next choice of words carefully. Having a full-blown fight with her was certainly not on tonight’s romantic agenda. Instead, he wanted to share the most magical kiss with his princess and then confess how much he loved her.

While, yes, they had been together for almost two years, Seokjin and Sumin never said, "I love you," to each other. Their mutual friends told them that they took their relationship a little too slow for their liking. Still, Sumin wanted to make sure their feelings towards each other were genuine, and Seokjin respected that.

He wanted her to know that he was just as serious about them as she was.

Which motivated the handsome fool to say,

"Not you," He gently took Sumin's hands as complete and utter adoration burned in his eyes, "Which is why not only will I give you an endless supply of cotton candy, but I will bestow you the most romantic kiss ever known to man, if you agree to go on the Ferris-wheel with me," He quickly glanced at his watch, "We have exactly an hour to wait in that line, get on one of those carts, and slowly ride up to the top of the wheel where we will stop and enjoy the firework display," He smiled warmly at her, praying to every God out there that she would say yes, "So, how about it? You and me? All alone in that surprisingly roomy compartment?" He finished, eager to hear Sumin's answer.

Sumin remained silent as she glanced up to the Ferris-wheel, pondering for a moment. Then, after what seemed like an eternity of waiting, she opened her sweet lips and said,

"Yes. I will ride the Ferris-wheel with you."

Sumin suddenly shrieked, followed by this soft laughter as Seokjin abruptly picked her up and twirled her around. Bystanders would've thought that he just proposed to her, and she said yes. That was how ecstatic Seokjin was for finally getting Sumin to agree to ride the wheel with him, especially since he knew how afraid of heights she was.

That was true love right there, and it solidified the never-ending devotion he bore for her.

Gently placing his princess on the ground, Seokjin softly pecked her nose before intertwining their hands together.

With a sincere smile painted on his lips, the handsome young man guided the woman, he absolutely adored, towards the semi-long waiting line to get on the ride. The happy couple passed the time by talking about everything and anything popped in their heads. They talked about how their college courses went the past Spring Semester. They spoke of how goofy their group of friends was, especially when two of their friends sabotaged each other's audition for the theater department's Spring musical.

Sumin still couldn't believe that Jungkook and Hoseok became infatuated with the same girl, who auditioned to play the main heroine in the play.

Slightly shaking her head, she cuddled up to Seokjin as she wrapped her arms around his waist, covering her goose-bumped riddled arms. She buried her face in his chest, inhaling the addictive scent of his cologne.

Seokjin peered down with an amused smirk plastered on his face.

"I'm starting to think that you only restocked my cologne with this scent because you personally like it," He shuffled their bodies up to the front of the line, "Not so much that you think that it's a scent that works well on me." He teased, chuckling at how precious Sumin was as she vigorously shook her head.

She then looked up with her doe-like gaze, “I bought it because you said that you personally liked it and it worked well for you,” She untangled himself for her but only for Seokjin to wrap his arms around her waist and rest his chin on her shoulder, “Don’t pin it on me, mister.” She stated as the ride operator asked if they wanted to ride alone or together while the cart slowly stopped in front of the couple.

Seokjin quickly answered that they wanted to ride together before Sumin had the chance to say some sarcastic remark.

The ride operator nodded and waved them over, allowing them to cross the safety line. The carnival worker politely helped Sumin into the cart then helped Seokjin afterward. The worker quickly did the safety check, making sure everything worked properly before pushing the start button.

The second the cart moved upwards, Sumin’s breath hitched. Panic settled in the pit of her tummy. Her breathing grew sporadic as the carriage continued going higher.

Out of the corner of his eye, Seokjin noticed how tense his princess was and reached over to grab her hands. He gently caressed the backs of her hands as he whispered words of encouragement and peppered her faces with kisses.

“I know it’s too late to say this, but don’t look down.”

“Oh, you’re damn right it’s too late to say that!”

A low whine escaped her mouth as she continued to resist taking a peek down below. The extremely stressed out girl flailed her legs as if she hoped that maybe her kicking her legs would speed up the ride. It didn’t, but a girl could dream, right?

Sumin whined, “Ah, how much longer to the top, Jinnie?” She asked, her voice shaky as she placed a trembling hand on her chest. She felt how her heart practically hammered against her chest, and then it suddenly stopped.

Slowly prying one of her eyes open, Sumin saw Seokjin’s hands tightly holding hers. That explained why she suddenly felt this warmth transfer to her cold hands. However, she began to feel more than just his body heat; she started to feel his courage. The longer he held onto her, the more she felt safe with him. With Seokjin by her side, whispering words of encouragement and showering her with all of the admiration he bore for her, she felt invincible.

Seokjin challenged her by facing her fear of heights. He showed her that while yes, it terrified her to no end, she still had a courageous side to her that needed just a little shove.

Ah, Sumin hated when he unknowingly proved a point to her… God damn it…

Gently opening her other eye, a faint gasp escaped her gentle lips. Her eyes widened at the marvelous view. The city lights twinkled like the stars in the night sky as tiny streaks of red and white gradually passed by the fairgrounds.

What she currently saw, at that moment, was the epitome of a brand-new world—and she owed it all to Seokjin.

Without a second thought, Sumin grabbed Seokjin’s face and kissed his cheek sweetly, letting out a giggle as she pulled away.

A boyish grin appeared on Seokjin’s princely face, “What was that for, princess?” He lightly questioned.

Sumin maintained her loving smile, “For always pushing me to be better,” She said, resting her head against his broad shoulder, “You always know me better than I know myself.” She added as Seokjin rested his head against hers.

“Well, think of it as me returning the favor. You constantly pushed me out of my comfort zone, so naturally, I’d do the same for you.” He stated with a meaningful expression as the Ferris-wheel momentarily came to a halt.

Sumin’s brows furrowed as tiny creases formed on her forehead. Curiosity washed against her body but soon evaporated as the couple heard loud booms followed by flashes of colorful lights.

The easily enamored young lady stared into the night sky in complete awe. Her eyes sparkled like the fireworks that lit up the sky. It was during that moment that Sumin briefly forgot that she was an adult with responsibilities. Responsibilities that came with being a college student who enrolled in a full course load of classes. She forgot about the endless pile of assignments, group projects, and presentations.

For only tonight, the only thing - the only person - she needed to focus on was the attractive fellow that sat next to her.

Which reminded her…

Taking a slow, deep breath, Sumin emptied the nerves that riddled her body. She repeated that action a few more times until she felt weightless. For the past few

months, unknown to Seokjin, she practiced how to confess her love to him. After all, this would be a gigantic leap for them in their relationship.

With a final deep exhale, the shy brunette turned her body towards her boyfriend as the fireworks continued to decorate the black canvas that covered the town. Flashes of color illuminated the Ferris-wheel as Sumin slowly leaned in with rosy-colored cheeks.

“Seokjin…?” She softly called out to him, causing the boy to hum in response; though, his eyes didn’t leave the firework show.

“Can you look at me for a second? I need to tell you something.”

“Oh, that is not something any boyfriend wants to hear coming out of their girlfriend’s mouth.”

“I’m serious, Jinnie!”

“I’m serious too, princess! The moment any girlfriend says that to their significant other, it’s—”

Seokjin’s lips were captured by Sumin’s. Her hands slowly reached up to his neck, gently grasping it as she pulled him closer. Their chests pinned against one another as the couple gradually became lost in each other’s embrace. Seokjin’s hands rested on Sumin’s thighs. At the same time, her fingers entangled themselves in between locks of his hair, gently tugging at them as their kiss grew more fervent.

Tiny moans floated into the air, mixing with the powerful booms from the firecrackers, as the two battled for dominance; neither one of them allowed the other to win, as Seokjin and Sumin remained in their tight embrace for what seemed like an eternity.

Reluctantly, Sumin pulled away as she remembered why she called for him in the first place.

“As I was saying before we passionately kissed each other,” She smiled brightly, chuckling as she wiped away her remaining lip gloss off Seokjin’s swollen lips, “I need to tell you something, and no, I’m not confessing a relationship sin nor am I breaking up with you, you dramatic doofus.” Sumin paused again, soothing the butterflies that fluttered in her tummy, “I wanted to tell you that…I’m in love with you…” She finally confessed with bright red cheeks as passion burned in her eyes.

A massive sigh of relief escaped her lips as she finally and courageously announced that she was utterly head-over-heels in love with him. Now, she didn’t expect Seokjin to say it back since they both agreed, at the beginning of their relationship, that they would say, “I love you,” at their own pace, but a part of her felt afraid. Scared that maybe she said it a little too soon for Seokjin’s liking and now scared him off.

Oh, great. Here came the regret of announcing her love too early, hitting Sumin like a massive tidal wave as her boyfriend remained silent with a straight face.

Sumin sucked in air between clenched teeth, nodding her head as she scolded herself for confessing her love. Slowly, she turned her body, and as she was about to create space between them, she felt a pair of hands cup her cheeks and pull her into the most mind-blowing kiss ever.

Her eyes fluttered close as she became lost in the kiss, and during that heated exchange, she heard Seokjin say in between pecks,

“I’m…in…love…with…you…too…”

With one and final kiss, Seokjin pulled away, though he would instead continue kissing her as he showed her just how much he loved her. As he unraveled himself from her body, he couldn’t help but smirk as he noticed how flushed Sumin’s cheeks were.

He wasn’t going to lie, seeing his princess, a total blushing mess boosted his confidence as this sense of pride surged through his body. He unknowingly puffed out his broad chest as he flung a warm around Sumin’s chest while the Ferris-wheel slowly resumed operating.

“You know, I don’t think our future anniversaries are going to top this one.”

“Yeah. I think you might be right, but I’ll still love you even if our next year’s date consists of us chilling on my roof and stargazing.”

“Huh. I think you just gave me an idea for our annual Autumn dates!”

Slowly opening her eyes, a faint smile graced Sumin's face as Seokjin's words echoed throughout her mind.

And true to her boyfriend's word, he did set up a stargazing date for their yearly Autumn dates.

It still baffled her mind that he was always consistent whenever he suggested something unexpectedly, but that was something that made her fall more in love with Seokjin.

Speaking of love…

Peering down with an exciting twinkle in her eye, Sumin took a deep breath before shouting,

“If I recall that night correctly, I did not confess my love to you until the week after!”

Not even a minute later, Sumin heard Seokjin’s fake laughter, causing the amused young woman to genuinely chuckle as she shook her head, slowly climbing down the Ferris-wheel. There was no point in staying up there if she didn’t see any abnormalities in the shadows.

As the fearless lady descended the ladder, Sumin could hear Seokjin make a few jabs at her memory—or lack of one.

“And another thing, my gorgeous yet always wrong princess! How could I’ve told the story wrong when my memory is ten times better than yours!? So, there! I win!” bragged Seokjin, completely forgetting the fact this booming voice could easily attract a horde of the undead.

A low growl escaped from the annoyed girl’s lip as she paused in her steps. Her gaze drifted upward as the anger bubbled within her chest. Her grip tightened on the rusty metal of the ladder; her knuckles turned white, which meant that the poor girl was seconds away from punching her oh-so-charming boyfriend.

Was it too late to leave Seokjin behind while she journeyed off to find the Fireflies? After all, her boyfriend could easily manage a bunch of zombies on his own.

Forcing out a sigh, Sumin continued her journey down, loving yet hating the fact that she could never leave him behind.

She loved him too damn much…

Little by little, Sumin gradually closed the gap between herself and the sweet ground that she wished her feet stepped on as opposed to the tiny stairs. As much as she didn’t mind heights anymore, she would rather be on the floor if she could help it. More comfortable to defend herself and Seokjin if necessary.

“Ah, I hope he’s doing….” She mumbled to herself, stopping abruptly when her eyes picked up something strange into the distance. She halted in her place. Her eyes squinted, hoping that it would help her vision become sharper. Then, her breath hitched as it grew sporadic. Her chest tightened as she gripped the ladder once again.

This heaviness of complete and utter dread crashed into Sumin’s body like a gigantic tidal wave that hit into a city. She slowly felt the wind knock out of her as the horrific shrieks drew near.

Then, her heart completely stopped the moment she heard Seokjin cry out to her in terror.

“Seokjin, just leave me!” She commanded sternly as the adrenaline-fueled woman rushed down the ladder, no longer caring if she fell from the ladder. Sumin was close to the ground anyway and could quickly get into a combat-ready stance while Seokjin dashed to safety.

Seokjin’s safety would forever and always be a top priority for Sumin…

As the worried young woman descended from the maintenance ladder, practically near the gravel, she heard Seokjin idiotically taunt the undead as they surrounded him, desiring so much to eat his warm flesh. However, the secretly terrified young man couldn’t let his fear consume him. He needed to protect Sumin as he could never imagine living his life without her. Since the start of this horrendous outbreak, the lovestruck man vowed to protect his beloved and ensured that no harm came her way.

He hasn’t failed yet, nor would he ever fail at keeping his promise because, just like Sumin, Seokjin’s utmost priority is his girlfriend’s safety.

Using his sacred promise as his motivator to keep fighting, Seokjin peeked into the scope and fired shot after shot with his semi-automatic rifle, readying another round of ammo as his ammunition clip emptied.

Just as he pulled out the emptied ammo, Seokjin felt something sharp swipe at his right arm, creating a gash on his bicep as blood streamed down and stained his black leather jacket; though, it didn’t matter as no one would notice it. Well, the horde of undead caught it as the addicting scent of fresh plasma enticed them even more, sending them into a frenzy.

The injured man winced as the pain grew increasingly unbearable, but he refused to stop fighting. The moment he ceased firing, they would attack Sumin and more than likely kill her.

No…

Seokjin would never allow that to happen…

Not as long as his heart continued beating…

Exhausting his last amount of strength, Seokjin suddenly stopped firing and rammed the end of his semi-automatic rifle into one of the zombies before shooting a few bullets into its decaying body. As the adrenaline-fueled protector readied to fight off more zombies, he failed to realize that he had a few rushing at him from his flank. As their growls grew close, Seokjin knew it was too late to fire a few rounds at them while five more zombies ran at him from the front.

No matter which direction he focused on, those undead bastards would aggressively claw at him before devouring his juicy flesh. However, he couldn’t let that thought deter him from his personal objective; his mission of getting Sumin to the Fireflies, so those groups of doctors could create a cure that would one day restore humanity on this lonely planet.

That’s why he had to keep fighting….

Breathing deeply, Seokjin readied his weapon, releasing bullet after bullet at the horde in front of him, ignoring the ones that rushed at him from behind.

But he also neglected his ride-or-die partner…

A loud grunt entered one ear and exited through the other, followed by the sound of a sharp object impaling one flesh after the other before bodies dropped right behind the handsome man. Their decaying, decapitated heads rolled towards the assailant’s feet before the person kicked to the side like a soccer ball.

Seokjin faintly scoffed as he glanced behind his shoulder and whispered, “And I thought it was my job to save you, p-princess…” as the last bar of his energy finally depleted. His face paled from the amount of blood that slowly drained from his arm. His eyes shuttered close as Seokjin gave in to the exhaustion that plagued him. His legs wobbled as his knees buckled in, ready for his entire body to collapse onto the pavement.

Yep…Seokjin depleted all of his energy…

However, as he was seconds away from dropping to the floor, Sumin quickly sheathed her Katana and grabbed Seokjin before he could. She then wrapped his uninjured arm around her shoulders as she hoisted Seokjin and supported his weight with all the strength she mustered minutes before.

“C-come on, Jinnie…” A few grunts left her lips, “You c-can’t give up on me just yet.” Sumin’s voice quavered as she struggled to reach for Seokjin’s assault rifle. Her fingertips grazed the strap a few times before she successfully wrapped them around the leather material and hung it around her boyfriend’s neck. Of course, she switched the rifle’s safety on before doing that. Insult to injury would be that she caused the death of her boyfriend.

“Alright…” She softly began as she surveyed her surroundings, hearing loud shrieks in the distance. Terror settled in her face, but Sumin didn’t allow it to show. No. The second she let the fear win, it was game over for her and Seokjin.

And Sumin would never allow that to occur, so she had to think of a place for them to hide.

Her mind went into overdrive as she thought of all the possible places for them to wait for the horde to lose interest in them quietly. The site also had to provide them enough cover that could not only disguise their scent but ward off the stench of blood as she patched Seokjin’s deep wound.

Sumin’s concerned gaze glanced at her boyfriend’s limp and severely injured arm as streams of blood stained his scarred hand.

Quickly shaking her head, the worried girlfriend forcibly pushed away any possible worst-case scenarios as it would neither help her or Seokjin in their current situation.

Suddenly, another thunderous, bone-chilling scream echoed in the eerie atmosphere, and this time it sounded nearby.

“Shit…!” She cursed through clenched teeth as she readjusted Seokjin’s weight against hers. “Okay, do you remember where the Hall of Mirrors was at?” She asked, guiding them away from the pile of lifeless zombies.

Seokjin groaned a few times. His eyes fought to stay open, but he found it difficult to do so. Shit, he barely registered Sumin’s question. That was how drained he was.

Sumin’s brows furrowed as wrinkles formed on her forehead. Her heart tightened from Seokjin’s lack of response.

“You know what, it’s okay, Jinnie,” Sumin forced an affectionate yet tired smile, “I think I remember where it was at,” She said, hunching her body as Seokjin’s weight slowly collapsed on top of her tired body. Still, she exerted enough of her depleting energy to keep them standing.

“Alright, let’s go.” She whispered, hobbling the two of them over to the entrance of the Hall of Mirrors. She kept her right arm anchored on Seokjin’s waist. At the same time, her left hand interlocked with his as she practically dragged them towards the entryway.

In between her grunts, she suddenly heard Seokjin let out this light chuckle. Sumin couldn’t help but giggle as her boyfriend’s delirious expression was priceless; though, she shouldn’t find his dying state hilarious. She believed the dehydration slowly crept on her emotional state and took a mental note to take a few big gulps from her canister. Just one of the many containers filled with water that Sumin and Seokjin filtered by boiling out the impurities from a river they stumbled upon a few weeks back.

But before she could dive into the hilarious memory associated with that river, a string of slurred words entered her ears followed with pain-induced groans.

Sumin forced air through her nose, “Seokjin, save what little strength you have. Okay?” She kindly suggested, though, it sounded more of a demand.

“B-But…princess…” Seokjin winced as his eyes opened slightly, “We can f-finally settle o-our bet once and f-for all.” He finished, stumbling over some words.

Sumin briefly halted their steps but swiftly resumed as they couldn’t afford to stop with a pack of starving zombies on their trails.

With a raised brow, Sumin asked what he meant by his rather vague statement as she and Seokjin finally passed through the entryway to the Hall of Mirrors. Correction. The place was now a dark, spacious area surrounded by broken mirrors and cracked glass decorated the pathway.

“I mean, S-Sumin…” He coughed twice, causing the tired girl to become alarmed and even more concerned for Seokjin’s wellbeing, “Don’t you r-remember on our fourth a-anniversary that y-you a-and I made a bet—” Seokjin let out a loud cry as Sumin accidentally bumped his injured arm against the wall as her body finally gave up on her. The two of them collapsed onto the floor, panting heavily.

“Sorry, Seokjin.” The exhausted young lady mumbled as she took a minute to catch her breath before moving his body to a more comfortable position.

Seokjin made a face before continuing where he left off.

“As I w-was saying before you c-carelessly d-dropped me,” Sumin shot him an icy glare, resulting with him swiftly apologizing before resuming, “Anyway, you a-and I made a b-bet on our f-fourth a-anniversary because neither one of us h-had y-yet to come inside here,” Seokjin repeated, hoping that something – anything – triggered Sumin to have this lightbulb moment.

Then, like clockwork, she did.

“Oh, my God…” She trailed on as she took off her jacket and tied her hair up in a pony-tail, “Are you talking about that stupid bet that you created because you were too much of a chicken to go in this place by yourself?” She questioned, emphasizing a specific word.

Seokjin gawked but let out a few more coughs, “That b-bet isn’t stupid!” He declared, wincing loudly as Sumin carefully removed the torn leather jacket sleeve from his arm. The fabric lightly grazed his gaping wound, creating an endless wave of this unbearable stinging sensation.

Sumin smiled wanly as she gently held his injured arm, assessing the severity of the wound.

“I know you’re in pain, Jinnie, but the bet was stupid, and I’ll tell you why.” She said in a matter-of-fact tone, not realizing that Seokjin closed his eyes, surrendering to the darkness that slowly swamped his mind. Sumin didn’t notice this yet, but Seokjin sadly began reacting to the virus that caused this damn outbreak in the first place.

Minutes rolled by and still no snippy remark from Seokjin. Panic settled in Sumin as she immediately shifted her focus on him. She gently cupped his marked-up cheek; her eyes dripped with fear.

“Jinnie?” She lightly tapped his face while the anxiety settled within her chest, “You gotta stay away, okay? Just stay awake for me. P-please…” She desperately begged as tears formed in the brim of her eyes. “After all, you have to travel down memory lane with me on how that stupid bet came to be…” She stated in a soft-spoken voice as she applied pressure to his wound, refusing to give up on him.

Sumin’s eyes fluttered close, slowly breathing out of her nostrils. Her mind wandered off, transporting her back to that fun evening.

Harden stares. Smug smiles. Two people proudly stood in front of each other, hiding one of their hands behind their backs. The unusual duo anchored their bodies in front of the infamous entryway to the Hall of Mirrors, calculating the other person’s next move in their fun game of rock-paper-scissors. Rumors surrounded the infamous carnival attraction as legends said that a couple of fair-goers had unexpectedly grown ill and currently fought for their lives in the downtown hospital. Knowing that only enticed every single customer to want to brave it out and check out the attraction for themselves.

But not for Seokjin and Sumin. Nuh-uh. This quirky couple would rather look like complete fools in front of the infamous fair attraction than go inside.

And this all started because Seokjin stubbornly refused to go inside the Hall of Mirrors by himself.

Naturally, Sumin called him a coward; thus, it led them to their current predicament.

With an arrogant smile painted on her beautiful face, Sumin’s stare narrowed as if she had telepathic abilities, allowing her to read Seokjin’s next move.

“Stare at me all you want, princess, but you will never defeat the rock-paper-scissors champion!” taunted Seokjin with an equally cocky smirk plastered on his gorgeous face.

Sumin snorted; her eyes briefly flickered to the side.

“You and I both know that there’s no such thing as a champion of rock-paper-scissors. You giant doofus!” She quipped in a high-pitched voice, earning her a few odd glances from a few bystanders.

Yeah. That reaction resulted in Sumin’s boyfriend doing his infamous windshield wiper laugh, causing a couple of people to stop in their tracks with a confused expression.

The embarrassed college student hung her head low. Her cheeks heated from unwanted attention.

Shyly, Sumin lifted her head, uttering a few apologies to the strangers before shooting Seokjin a cold stare as he continued cackling for a good three minutes.

The agitated brunette blew air upward from her mouth before stalking up to her hysterical boyfriend and punched him in his bicep.

Seokjin yelped but showed no sign of his laughter ceasing any time soon, which further annoyed Sumin.

Finally fed up with her cackling boyfriend, Sumin shouted, “Enough! I’ll go inside the stupid hall of mirrors with you!” She walked towards the carnival worker, dragging Seokjin by his wrist while his laughter slowly faded away. He quickly wiped away the tears that formed because he laughed so hard that his stomach ached.

Ah, he hadn’t a good laugh like that since Namjoon broke their Chemistry professor’s beaker and set off the smoke alarms in the classroom.

Good times right there…

Softly shaking his head, Seokjin handed the worker two entry tickets. Then the employee granted them entrance into the Hall of Mirrors.

Gradually, the couple walked further into the hallway. The light from the sunset faded in the background as the young pair went deeper into the creepy attraction.

Without a second thought, Sumin wrapped her arms around Seokjin’s forearm and clung to her protector. The frightened girl shuffled alongside her boyfriend, disregarding the fact that she could’ve easily tripped him. Her heart pounded against her chest as she caught glimpses of her funny reflections in the mirrors.

Tiny whines left Sumin’s lips as she cutely stomped her feet because Seokjin wanted to admire his humorous reflection.

His action shocked her tremendously since it was Seokjin’s idea in the fucking first place that they played rock-paper-scissors to see if Sumin accompanied him or not inside this terrifying place. Now, she started believing that the attractive idiot she called a boyfriend hustled her.

If that were the case, then what she was about to do next, she wouldn’t feel guilty whatsoever.

With both a devious smirk and gleam on her innocent face, Sumin turned her attention towards Seokjin, slightly tilting her head.

“Hey, Jinnie…”

“What’s up?”

“Wanna make a bet, especially since it’s our fourth anniversary together?”

Seokjin blinked a few times. His lips thinned as this uneasy silence covered them like a warm blanket on a Winter’s night.

His stare darted between Sumin’s innocent face and the random stranger squeezed by them.

The confused man opened his mouth but soon closed it as the longer he stared at his girlfriend’s doe-like eyes, the more he realized that there was a trap waiting for him.

With knitted brows and taking a step backward, Seokjin hesitantly took the bait and asked what kind of bet Sumin talked about.

“Simple, Seokjin,” She gestured to their rather cramped surroundings, “Since you and I both do not want to be in here any longer than we have to,” She then pointed towards the direction in front of them, “And judging from the bone-chilling screams that echo every five seconds, it seems that this place is only going to become even scarier.” She explained, though, not really getting her point across.

However, that was the beauty of their relationship. Seokjin always understood what went on in Sumin’s beautiful yet devious brain.

And sadly, for him, this was a bet that would result in his loss…

Looking briefly displeased, Seokjin sighed heavily before interlacing their fingers together and continuing their journey inside the spooky attraction.

“So…what happens if you lose the bet?”

“Me? Ha. That’s comical, Jinnie. Tell me. Who’s the braver one between us two?”

“Well, that depends princess on what we’re doing, you big goof.”

Sumin scoffed, rolling her eyes, “You just don’t wanna admit that I’m braver than you.”

Now, it was Seokjin’s turn to scoff.

“Uh-huh. Let’s see if you keep that mindset once we near the end of this hallway since I believe that is when we heard the most terrifying induced shrieks.”

“You’re on!”

And true to his words…Sumin freaked out first and punched one of the costumed workers in the stomach.

Yeah…

Safe to say that the carnival manager banned the couple from entering the Hall of Mirrors ever again.

Well, at least there was a positive aspect of this epidemic…

Seokjin and Sumin were allowed inside the attraction; though, the concerned woman wished it were under better circumstances…

A defeated expression washed over Sumin’s face. Yet, the anxious but determined young woman refused to allow Seokjin to succumb to the deadly virus. A few sniffles echoed slightly as Sumin maintained pressure on the wound, allowing the disinfectant to have some sort of effect on the injury.

“Come on…” The distressed girl repeatedly uttered as tears cascaded down her dirty and bloodied cheeks. Out of anger, Sumin threw the blood-soaked gauze and hurriedly applied another, cleaning and dressing the gash some more. The upset girl’s tears landed on Seokjin’s arm, unknowingly stirring the man from his pain-induced slumber.

A couple of faint groans escaped his precious lips as Seokjin’s eyes slowly fluttered open. He slowly turned his head; his gaze landed on Sumin’s.

A small smile displayed on the handsome man’s face before he started to reach out to Sumin with his injured room, stubbornly ignoring the severe shooting pains that surged through his veins.

“…n-now…why is m-my princess crying…?” whispered Seokjin as his bloodied hand cupped Sumin’s soft cheek, “Beautiful w-women shouldn’t s-shed any t-tears…” He added, successfully causing his concerned girlfriend to chuckle.

Sumin leaned into his warm touch, maintaining her solemn smile, before grasping his hand with hers.

“G-gross Jinnie…” She teased, forcing herself to make light of the situation for not only her sake but Seokjin’s as well, “I don’t want you touching me with your bloody fingers.” She added, removing her hands from his bloody one as she resumed tending to his wound. Using her jacket sleeve, the brunette carefully wiped away the tears that threatened to fall. The last thing she needed was her purposely causing more minuscule pain to Seokjin.

Seokjin tried laughing, but they soon turned into small coughing fits. The injured man rolled his eyes; though, he maintained his tiny, playful smile.

“Well, I’m s-sorry that I c-couldn’t w-wash my hands before doing t-this—” Seokjin suddenly yelped as he felt this unbearable pain shoot up his arm once again. Then, he felt a cooling sensation that followed shortly. Wondering what it was, Seokjin’s gaze followed Sumin’s arms and then noticed yet another gauze slowly soak up his tainted blood. Not even a minute later, that excruciating ache returned.

“Ouch woman!! Be a little gentler next time!!” cried the injured man, shooting glares at his girlfriend.

Sumin gawked, “You know what…I take my tears back now,” Her face became emotionless, “Since you’ll be fine now seeing as that you finally stopped stuttering caused by that excruciating pain you were in earlier.” She said blankly, blinking a few times before turning her back towards him to put away their shared medical supplies.

Tiny chuckles escaped Seokjin’s chest as he slowly sat up, examining his bandaged-up arm. He stared at his wound as curiosity slowly washed over him. His eyes trailed over to Sumin and instantly noticed that her left hand dawned a bandage. Then, it occurred to him. She must’ve fused her blood with the disinfectant and made a quick cure for his wound before the virus had a chance to completely take over.

With the corners of his mouth turning upwards, Seokjin shuffled his way over to Sumin and warmly placed a hand on her head. Love glowed in his eyes as he stared affectionately at her backside.

“Well, it’s thanks to you that I’ll be fine,” but not even a second after saying that, he winced; his hand rested on the side of his torso. “Damn, did those undead bastards get me somewhere else too?” He bitterly thought but was soon thankful that he didn’t feel any fresh blood on his fingers. However, he didn’t want to alarm Sumin yet again. He saw how anxious she became when those zombies severely injured his arm. Seokjin couldn’t put her through that heartache for a second time.

Through gritted teeth, the stubborn fool repeated that he’d be okay and that he could never die.

“As long as I’m breathing and standing before you, I will always protect you,” He pressed his plump lips to Sumin’s temple, “Again, nothing and no one can kill me.” He declared; his eyes burned with determination as if he made another sacred pact to himself.

A faint scoff escapes her lips, unbothered to show her face to him.

“What if someone is successful and does kill you? Then, what, Jinnie?” She asked; her breath hitched for a split second. “I-I can’t afford to lose you…” She added, muttering as her voice softly broke in the beginning. Then, Sumin closed her eyes, slowly exhaling through her nose as she desperately tried taming the anxiety that gradually swallowed her body. The thought of losing Seokjin always triggered it for her. There were days where she wished that she were this emotionless, ruthless killing machine immune to emotions such as love, but that wasn’t the case.

It was thanks to those beautiful emotions that Sumin was herself. If she was this robot, then she wouldn’t have met Seokjin.

And with that final thought, the uneasy young woman turned towards her boyfriend, facing him with a brave expression as Sumin swung her backpack around her shoulders and tightened the straps.

“And that is why I will not stop at nothing until I find that safe haven.” She declared suddenly yet firmly; her eyes sparked with this undying resolve for her personal mission. “You hear me, Jinnie? I will find us that secure place. I s-swear to you.” She finished, letting out a few sniffles as her eyes became glossy.

Seokjin remained speechless, unsure of how to answer Sumin’s question. He was also taken back from Sumin’s sudden declaration; however, his mind soon drifted back to her earlier question.

Truth be told, he never thought about his death since that was something, he couldn’t afford to even imagine it.

No.

The moment he thought about someone killing him, it would be game over. His body would succumb to the fear that Seokjin channeled countlessly into courage. He needed to be strong for him and Sumin.

He just had to…

Tapping his chin, Seokjin hummed in response before wrapping a warm around Sumin’s shoulders, pulling towards him. His chin now rested nicely on top of her head while his courageous girlfriend finally broke down and sobbed in his chest, dampening his shirt. She could only hold that brave face for so long.

“Aw, Minnie…” He cooed, softly rubbing her back and sweetly kissing her head, “You don’t have to worry about keeping me safe, and do you want to know why?” He asked softly; his eyes blazed with absolute devotion and admiration.

Sumin nodded her head but remained glued in his broad chest as more tiny sniffles escaped her precious lips.

Seokjin couldn’t help but chuckle in response, finding his girlfriend extremely cute at that moment.

“Well, the reason why you don’t have to worry about keeping me safe is that I’m already safe, princess.”

“Huh? How’s that possible, Seokjin?”

Then, he grinned widely before answering,

“Because I’m always safe whenever I’m with you, sweetheart.” He happily stated, earning himself a light shove and angry stare from Sumin. “Ah, that tiny push was worth it since you’re no longer upset and shedding your beautiful tears when they aren’t necessary.” He added, smiling brightly. His smile was so vast that his cheekbones practically touched his eyes, causing them to disappear.

Sumin made a face, “Unbelievable…” She trailed on, walking away from him, “After all these years, you still manage to become cheesier than your last attempt!” She shouted over her shoulder, wearing this amused yet teasing smirk on her face.

Seokjin shook his head, forever enjoying their endless game of cat and mouse.

“I swear, I must be a masochist…” He humorously thought before chasing after his woman.

Inch by inch, Sumin peeked her head out; her gaze flickered toward every single direction, making sure the close was clear before leaving their hiding spot.

Seokjin’s breath fanned the back of her neck, creating goosebumps to appear. Tiny giggles emitted from her lips as Sumin hunched her shoulders, hoping that it would stop the rather affectionate man that she called her boyfriend.

However, it did not. If anything, the lovesick fool saw his girlfriend’s protests as a challenge. A challenge that he’d surely win.

Without a second thought, Seokjin wrapped a protective arm around Sumin’s shoulders, pressing his chest against her back. Then, he slowly lowered his head; his plump lips hovered over her ear.

“So…is the close clear?” He whispered; his hot, breathy tone caused the poor girl to become flustered as a small, yet enticing moan escaped her innocent lips.

Then, seconds later, a loud smack echoed throughout the dark, empty halls of the destroyed carnival attraction.

Seokjin grunted, rubbing the area where his girlfriend smacked him.

“Did you really have to go for my chest? You know how sensitive I am in that area.” He whined, pouting cutely as he continued rubbing his injured chest.

Sumin scoffed, ignoring his rather cute complaints, “Obviously. Why else would I slap you in your most sensitive spot beside your humongous ego.”

“Ego? That’s a weird name to call my—”

“Finish that sentence and no sex once we find the safe haven.”

Seokjin flinched. His face tensed from the mere thought of not being intimate with his girlfriend. Then, he hung his head low, “I’ll behave, princess.”

The triumphant young lady uttered a quick, “good,” before placing an innocent peck on his scratched-up cheek. She then gestured towards the exit, announcing to him that it was safe to run towards the fence that faced the abandoned, ruined mall. During the couple’s attempt at escaping the hungry horde, Sumin noticed a destroyed wall in front of the mall that she and Seokjin frequented for many years.

“You ready? Do you have enough energy to dash towards that gate?”

“I think I can manage, sweetheart.”

Tightening the strap that held her sword in place, Sumin slowly inhaled then released the pent-up stress and other frustration through her nostrils.

With a look of determination on Sumin’s smudged up face, the fearless woman charged out of the entrance; her gun fired round after round, emptying the clip before she quickly inserted another ammo clip. She briefly took note of how many clips she remained before she completely ran out.

Running behind her, with an infinite release of ammo from Seokjin’s semi-automatic, the protective yet still injured man guarded his girlfriend, protecting her like a royal knight for his princess as he safeguarded her from any harm. He shot down any undead bodies that rushed at Sumin, finding it a bit therapeutic as killing those zombies was another form of revenge for him.

Funny, huh?

Gradually, the abandoned mall became large as it appeared in the running couple’s sights. Their hearts drummed against their chest as they felt the adrenaline deplete from their bodies, but they couldn’t give up. Not just yet. They needed to find a safe haven and restore humanity to this rotting planet.

They just had too…

Skidding towards the open gate, Sumin held it up, widening the gap so Seokjin could fit in the hole. She breathed heavily while her eyes homed in the rushing horde that slowly closed the distance between them. With her free hand, she aimed her gun at the dead crowded, firing a few times. The frightened girl landed head-shots and permanently killed them.

“Come on, Sumin!” hollered Seokjin as this wave of anxiety washed over him as well. Being on the other side of the fence did not sit well with him whatsoever—scratch that. Not standing right beside Sumin did not sit well with him at all.

Just as the worried man readied his weapon, Sumin scrambled through the hole, earning herself a small cut on the back of her hand.

Seokjin instantly noticed, grabbing her uninjured hand, and pulled her towards the ruined building. The exhausted boy tapped into any reserve energy he stored. At the same time, Sumin addressed his wounds earlier as they continued their mad dash for the broken mall building.

With the entrance doors in sight, Seokjin practically shoved Sumin inside before following after. He swiftly scanned his surroundings, looking for anything that could be used as a barricade. Seconds later, his eyes focused on a pile of pipes.

“That should work…” He frantically thought as he grabbed a couple and stuck in between handles. For added measure, he rolled over some of the fallen metal trash bins, completely ignoring the surging pain in his right arm. Even though Sumin wiped away the virus from Seokjin’s body, his gash still remained and gradually reopened.

A few winces escaped his plump lips, instantly alerting Sumin. She tucked her pistol in its holster before helping him push the trash bins.

Playfully shaking her head, Sumin gave him a look, teasing him in the process.

Seokjin rolled his eyes, scoffing before flashing her a boyish grin.

“You know I could’ve rolled that by myself.”

“Uh-huh. Sure,” Sumin pointed at his injured arm, “And that’s why your wound reopened, doofus.” She stated before maneuvering the metal bin in front of the door, securing its position.

Seokjin jokingly mocked her as he felt a slight tug on his wrist. He obediently followed Sumin, sitting down when instructed to. His eyes trailed up, noting how breathtaking his princess was despite the many cuts, bruises, and dried up blood that decorated her face. Soon, the corners of his mouth curved upwards as he continued watching Sumin redo his bandages. He couldn’t quite explain it, but he felt like he transported back to the day he first fell in love with her.

And it all because of the angelic smile that graced her beautiful face…

“Okay, all done.” Announced Sumin, tightening the knot on the bandage. “Next time you reopen up your gash, I’m gonna let it get it infected.” She warned with an overly sweet tone before placing an innocent kiss on his cheek.

Seokjin chuckled, jokingly saluting his woman before standing up. He grabbed his weapon and flung the strap around his shoulder, allowing it to lazily hang beside him as he and Sumin journeyed deeper inside the empty mall.

Walking past broken glass displays, where only a few shards remained hanging on the wall, Sumin mumbled the name of each storefront. Suddenly, she halted, tugging on Seokjin’s jacket sleeve.

Seokjin peered down, asking her if she was okay, and why they stopped in their tracks.

Without saying a word, Sumin simply pointed at the storefront. The concerned young man followed her finger and soon gasped.

“Is that—”

“Yup.”

Sumin took a step forward, walking towards the broken counter. She observed the discarded plastic cups and open cash registers. She clicked her tongue, devastated seeing one of their favorite food places utterly destroyed. She turned her head but quickly looked away after seeing the bloody hand prints that decorated the door that led to the kitchen.

The bottom of her lip disappeared as Sumin closed her tear pooled eyes. A few drops trickled down her cheeks, alerting Seokjin. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder before pulling her body towards his. He wrapped his arms around her, resting his cheek against her head as he whispered loving words, hoping to soothe away her sadness.

“It’s just not fair, Jinnie.”

“I know, princess, but at least we have each other.”

Sumin sniffled before mumbling, “Kind of like how Hoseok had Lainey?”

Jinnie chuckled at her sudden lighthearted comment as he pulled away from his now smiling girlfriend.

“No. I think you’re thinking of Renae, sweetheart.” He corrected. Though he secretly could be wrong as he too couldn’t remember which girl, he and Sumin successfully paired Hoseok up with for his third blind date.

Quickly wiping away any remaining tears, Sumin cleared her throat a few times before speaking,

“I don’t think so, Jinnie. It could be this one girl. Oh, what’s her name…?” She trailed on, snapping her fingers in hopes that it’d help her remember. Then, it finally clicked. “Ah! Bunny, I believe, was her nickname!”

Seokjin shook his head briefly humming before correcting Sumin yet again.

“Nope. Wrong again, princess. She ended up with Jungkook, remember?”

Sumin lips fell slightly open, silently berating herself for having the worst memory. Granted, she and Seokjin busied themselves with saving the human race and fighting off countless undead hordes, so that played into her favor.

With her brows knitted together and her lips thinned, Sumin thought long and hard on who the fuck ended up being Hoseok’s girlfriend. Alys? No, she remembered that she wound up with Namjoon. Kenzie? That was also another no since she ended up with Jimin—or was it her good friend Lindy? Oh, my God. Sumin drew a fucking blank on the name as she swiftly ruled out another friend of hers, Bean, who ended up being Yoongi’s adorable girlfriend.

“Fuck!” She mentally cursed as she gnawed on her bottom lip, desperate to figure out who ended up with Hoseok.

Seokjin, on the other hand, laughed at how serious yet adorable Sumin looked. He found it especially cute when her cheeks puffed out as the frustration slowly washed over her face.

Should he be a good boyfriend and help her? The amused young man quickly weighed his options, finding both the pros and cons to helping Sumin out but decided to assist his poor, agitated girlfriend.

“It’s Nina.”

“Nina? Oh! Nina! I’m a dummy. I can’t believe I forgot her.”

Seokjin gave a lop-sided grin as he wrapped a loving yet protective arm around Sumin and repeated, “It’s okay,” and “I still love you, stupidity and all.” He then guided her away from the ruined food court and resumed their journey inside the mall.

Laughter echoed throughout the three abandoned floors of the humongous building. For that brief moment, Sumin and Seokjin were simply two lovebirds on a simple date.

The loving couple recollected all the times they ended up at the mall after an extravagant dinner. Seokjin gently caressed the back of Sumin’s date, releasing a chuckle or two as she recalled the time Jungkook stole a black leather jacket.

“I’m still trying to figure out why he thought it was wise to steal the mannequin as well.” Sumin laughed, smiling brightly as she oddly felt relaxed.

Seokjin shrugged, “I have no clue, but with Jungkook, I never do. That boy has always been a strange one.” Suddenly, sadness clouded his handsome features, halting his steps, the more he thought about Jungkook and the rest of his close friends. He had yet to receive any news on their whereabouts. The last time he heard anything was 7 years ago.

7…long…years…

Before he could dwell on his friend’s untimely demise, he felt a warm hand cup his dirty cheek. His solemn gaze trailed down and met Sumin’s loving and comforting stare.

“Hey. Think positive, Seokjin.”

“How can I? For all I know, they could be long dead, and I wasn’t there for them, like the older brother I was supposed to be for them.”

Sumin sighed but quickly validated his feelings. Shit. She felt the same way about her close friends and family, and she allowed the guilt to eat away at her conscience. However, it wasn’t until the 3rd year of this pandemic that she turned the blame into resolve and swore that she would avenge everyone she loved.

Softly rubbing Seokjin’s marked up cheek, Sumin plastered a sweet smile and said,

“Once we find that safe haven, we will go look for your friends, okay? I mean, they have Namjoon and Yoongi with them, so the rest of them can’t be dead. Alright?”

The distraught boy nodded his head as the corner of Seokjin’s mouth twitched.

His princess always knew what to say, especially to light a fire underneath his depressed ass.

He sweetly pressed his lips against her forehead and muttered a quick, “thanks,” before taking her hand once more and resumed their exploration.

The completely smitten couple journeyed to the third floor, both of them finding it humorous that they actually walked up the broken escalators. Years ago, when it worked properly, the duo always rode it up to their designated floor. Even when it became evident that walking up the escalators were so much faster. However, they didn’t care.

They were proud to be called the “lazy” couple within their group of friends. Shoot. Sumin secretly found it amusing that they were dubbed that since she and Seokjin studied medicine before this horrific pandemic began.

Funny how everything turned out for the two of them. Seokjin became her protector, and she carried the cure that could potentially reverse humanity back to its original state.

Jogging away from Seokjin with a mischievous gleam in her eyes, Sumin peered behind her shoulder, enticing her boyfriend to chase her. Soft laughs escaped her sweet lips as she picked up the pace, wanting to increase the distance between their bodies.

“Be careful, princess!” advised Seokjin, feeling the anxiety slowly settle within the pit of his stomach. His worried gaze remained on Sumin’s retreating backside as the gap grew wider with each passing second.

Out of frustration, the concerned fellow ruffled his hair before running after his woman. Within minutes, Seokjin closed the gap between them and protectively wrapped his arms around Sumin’s torso as he shouted,

“Gotcha!”

Sumin laughed, smiling radiantly as her boyfriend peppered her face with soft kisses and whispers of adoration.

“You know that I love you to the sun and back, Sumin. Right?”

“Of course, Jinnie,” She turned her body, though, she was careful to not whack him with the hilt of her Katana, “And you know that I love you to the moon and back. Right?” She said sweetly and softly.

Seokjin hummed in response as his brows furrowed together.

Sumin gawked, lightly slapping his chest, and pulling away from him.

“I’m kidding, princess! Please come back! I need you in my arms, or else I’ll die.”

“Oh, my goodness. You’re such a drama king, Jinnie.”

“Well, yes, but that’s beside the point! Please give me a hug?”

Now, it was Sumin’s turn to playfully think about it. Then, not even a minute later, the stubborn young lady simply shrugged and walked up to her pouty boyfriend. She cupped the back of his neck, locking her fingers into place, and gently pulled Seokjin’s face towards hers. Their noses lightly bumped into each other as their dirt-stained foreheads pressed against one another.

The two of them, dawning warm smiles, remained lost in each other’s gaze for what seemed like forever until something captured Seokjin’s attention.

“Is that one of those luxurious contest cars?”

Sumin perked up her brow as she peered behind her shoulder. Her eyes widened as she untangled herself from Seokjin and ran up to the car, much to his dismay.

Curiosity got the best of her as her calloused fingers traced the cold metal of the car. She couldn’t help but admire how beautiful the car still looked despite its surroundings destroyed.

Well, until she heard a loud smash, causing the poor, unknowing girl to flinch as Seokjin swung his assault rifle back to its original position, blissfully unaware of Sumin’s death glare. He then carefully reached through the broken window and tried to feel for the door lock. His fingertips grazed the car door handle a few times before finally latching over the lock. Seokjin pulled it towards him, the two of them heard a click before swinging it open.

Like the gentleman he was, the attractive young man gestured towards the door, politely bowing his head at Sumin.

“Your chariot, my lady.” Joked Seokjin in a poorly imitated British accent.

Sumin chuckled lightly as she shook her head, brushing her shoulder against his.

“Why, thank you, my good sir.” She played along before removing her Katana from her back, making it easier for her to maneuver inside the vehicle.

Using the sleeve of her leather jacket, Sumin carefully brushed off the broken window shards from the car seat.

“You know, I’m thankful that the car battery died because you would’ve definitely attracted a crowd of zombies to us, you impatient dork.” She quipped, shimming her way towards the backseat. The exhausted lady let out a massive sigh of relief as she rested her head against the leather seats. Through a tired, cloudy gaze, Sumin squinted at the door and then realized something.

“Hey, Jinnie.”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“You’re a jerk for having me shimmy my way towards the backseat,” She then reached over the backdoor and unlocked it, “When you could’ve just reached even further and unlocked this door as well.” She finished, opening it up and flashing him a knowing smile.

Seokjin rolled his eyes as he teasingly closed the door on her before finally entering the car. He quickly placed his gun on the passenger seat and then put both hands on the steering wheel.

With a boyish grin written on his face, Seokjin glanced over his shoulder and asked,

“Where to, princess Sumin?”

A soft chuckle escaped her lips as she leaned in her seat and poked her head between the two front chairs. With an alluring smile painted on her lips, Sumin hovered her mouth over his ears and whispered sweetly,

“To the stars…” Before grabbing his shirt and pulling him towards the back of the seat. Though, it was a bit difficult at first given how bulkier and taller he was than her.

A faint grunt exited his lips as Seokjin found himself plopped next to the love of his life. His eyes bore into hers as he couldn’t help but admire how breathtaking she was despite going through hell and back.

Without a single thought in his head, the utterly smitten young man cupped his girlfriend’s stained cheek, gently caressing it. Then, slowly, the two of them inched their faces closer. Their eyes flickered from each other’s loving gaze to their lips before the gap finally closed.

A gentle moan escaped Sumin’s lips as she entangled her fingers in Seokjin’s hair. She slowly massaged his scalp, resulting in a low moan from Seokjin as he anchored one hand against the door-frame and the other against Sumin’s hip. He slowly lowered her body onto the seat, careful not to accidentally bump her head against anything.

“I love you, Kim Seokjin,” Sumin whispered, briefly breaking their passionate kiss.

Seokjin, slightly panting, simply smiled before capturing her precious lips once more. He poured all the love he bore for the woman underneath him and hoped that she knew how much he loved her.

For that single moment, Seokjin knew that actions spoke louder than words. Releasing her addicting lips, he trailed fiery kisses down the side of her face all the way to the base of her neck. His teeth lightly grazed her soft skin, causing a few moans to leave Sumin’s mouth, further igniting Seokjin’s hormones.

His hands buried itself underneath her shirt, the warmth of her skin contrasted the coolness from his hands. Seokjin’s fingers lightly trailed upwards, and just as his calloused fingers grazed the fabric of her bra, they heard a loud, terrifying shriek.

The couple instantly broke apart, fixing up their disheveled appearance as Seokjin promptly peeked through the window. Now on full alert, he hurriedly scanned the area; his ears picked up even the tiniest of sounds. Then, the thunderous, horrific cry echoed throughout the mall once more.

Not wanting to chance it, Seokjin quickly instructed – well more like demanded – Sumin to run for cover while he provided covering fire.

Her mouth fell open while her eyes went round. Did Sumin hear him correctly? What Seokjin planned was a suicide mission as the hordes would easily overwhelm him. Still, deep down, Sumin knew that as she studied his overall body language. The frantic young girl vigorously shook her head, rejecting his idiotic idea with her entire body.

“Well, do you have a better idea, princess?” Seokjin asked, giving her a look.

“Yes, you run beside me, and we protect each other,” Sumin paused, cupping both sides of his face, “Like we did every single time we faced these undead bastards and will continue to do until it’s no longer necessary.” She finished in a courageous tone of voice.

Seokjin was rendered speechless but soon composed himself. Sumin was right because if he ended up dead, then who would protect her in his stead? No one worthy of her that was for sure. He needed to remain alive for her sake.

And she needed to remain alive for his sake…

Taking a long, deep breath, Seokjin’s eyes sparked with fearlessness as he stared at Sumin. He gently took her hand into his and quickly pressed a sweet kiss on the back of it.

“Okay, as soon as I open this door, you better be running right beside me. Got it?”

“I should be telling you that, Jinnie.”

Seokjin snorted, ignoring her comment as he pulled on the door-latch and opened the car door. He quickly grabbed his weapon from the passenger seat before diving out of the car. He readied his semi-automatic and peeked through the scope, looking for any scouts. Luckily, he saw none, but they needed to hurry and find cover. Then, his ears picked up a soft grunt followed by a string of swears.

With an amused grin, Seokjin glanced to his side, noticing Sumin rubbing her chin.

“Let me guess you hit yourself with that Katana.”

“Shut up and run.”

Sumin repositioned her sword and began running with her pistol out and ready to fire. Seokjin quickly followed behind, mimicking his sweetheart's every movement. This continued for a few more minutes until they found a suitable hideout and ducked behind the concrete wall. The two lovers seized that relaxing opportunity and calmed their irregular breathing. The last thing the two of them needed was to pass out while fighting a raging crowd of zombies.

Slowly, the loving couple inhaled the sweet oxygen through their nostrils and exhaled it through their mouths. With each breath they took, Seokjin and Sumin felt both their physical and mental strength restored.

They were ready to fight once more…

Slightly tilting his head, revealing this lazy smile, Seokjin gave Sumin a quick glance-over, making sure she didn’t have any secret injuries.

“So, are you ready for round 3?” He jokingly asked.

Sumin snorted, “Round 3? It’s more like round 5 at this point, Jinnie.”

This time it was Seokjin’s turn to let out a quick snort as he stood up with his assault rifle ready to fire at any given moment. The second he stood up, the blood-curdling shrieks grew near. Seokjin gave those undead gnats about ten seconds – give or take – before they swarmed their position.

“Careful, princess. People might think you’re talking about our sex life.” He joked, shamelessly winking at her as he pulled the trigger, firing a few rounds at the undead horde.

Sumin rolled her eyes as she unsheathed her Katana and shot up from her spot.

“What people?” She quickly gestured at the two of them and then at the never-ending onslaught of zombies that approached them, “In case you haven’t noticed, Jinnie, we’re the only ones here, so you have nothing to worry about.” She bluntly stated, completely missing Seokjin’s sarcasm, before impaling one zombie and decapitating the second one before raising her gun.

Sumin then cocked back her pistol and aimed it at the enemy, emptying the clip as she landed head-shot after head-shot. She hurriedly reached for another ammo clip and loaded it into the pistol.

Meanwhile, with Seokjin, the poor boy shook his head as he observed how frantic Sumin slowly became. He swiftly focused his weapon on her direction and fired at the zombies that threatened to swarm her.

“With you around, sweetheart, I will always worry.” He announced as he quickly fired at the zombies that rushed towards their direction. He then spun around and fired at his original path.

Sumin’s face reddened but soon composed herself, though her cheeks remained rosy.

She quickly cleared her throat before speaking,

“And to think, I thought you couldn’t get any cheesier.”

“Only for you and always for you…”

116 notes · View notes

lunaseongs · 4 years ago

Text

eternities ago // self para

location: several tbh timeline: luna’s birthday over the course of her life triggers: abuse mentions, death mentions, drug mentions mentioned: frank, max, aidan, jas, aylin, bash, skylar, bea, reese, aria, jerome

The first birthday she has any memories beyond vague recollections of cake and balloons is her sixth. Her current literary obsession is Alice in Wonderland and she doesn’t even have to tell her parents that she wants to have a tea party, because they just know.

It’s heavily themed, Luna the center of attention in her lovingly crafted Alice costume, silly hats and party favors supplied for her guests. They’re children, so they don’t have a taste for tea, so instead they’re served iced tea, the glasses sweating in the warmth of her home on a cold Connecticut October day.

It’s a bit awkward at first, nobody but Frank willing to jump right in and enthusiastically participate in the riddles she’s invented, in her retellings of the story that veer a little off course, but once everyone has warmed up to the idea, the table is full of laughter and ridiculous jokes that only make sense to six year olds.

Frank is the last guest to leave and she falls asleep on his shoulder while they sit on the front steps and wait for someone to cross the yards to walk him home.

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Her tenth birthday is her last with her father alive, and she doesn’t throw a party this time. She’s become a bit more introverted as she’s gotten older, not quite shy yet, not the level she’ll become over the years, and instead she asks for a day with just her parents.

She keeps a list of libraries she wants to visit in her diary, a page dedicated to each, and while she doesn’t dare ask if they can go overseas for some of the ones at the top of her list, a library in New Haven seems like an easy enough day trip. The Yale University Beinecke Rare Book and Manuscript Library isn’t one she can just wander through and take books off the shelves but that doesn’t matter to her, too tempted by the idea of seeing some of the rarest books in the world, even if it’s only behind protective glass.

She’s full of nervous energy that’s only stilled when her father takes her hand as they’re approaching the front door after lunch. She loves both of her parents more than she knows how to express at this age, but Luna connects with her father in a way that she knows he’s just as excited about this as she is, her mother loitering a bit behind with a fond smile on her lips.

Luna doesn’t know she’ll watch him fall to the ground in their kitchen in exactly 19 days, that he’ll never get back up again and that it will start a mountain of misfortune that she’ll carry around on her back, and it doesn’t matter because for now his hand is in hers and her entire world is this library and her parents.

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It’s her fifteenth birthday and it’s one of her worst.

There are finger shaped bruises on her arm, thinner than usual, quicker to bruise with less weight on her. It’s been a bad month for her and her mother, meals harder to come by than usual. She’s gone to bed hungry all week, and she’s trying not to be irritable about it because then she snaps back at her boyfriend, and then he grabs her just a little too hard, threatens her with just a little too much sincerity.

Luna’s starting to realize how stupid this is when she blames the bruises on her arm on her lack of food as opposed to his anger.

He’s strung out on the couch beside her and her knees are pulled into her chest as she reads The Dwarf for the third time, no particular reason for the book choice aside from the fact that the copy was in her backpack. She has a hard time reading new books when she’s this hungry, unable to focus, as she’s just read the same page three times in a row now.

He doesn’t wish her a happy birthday, but she doesn’t particularly want to hear it, either.

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It’s her 18th birthday and Luna is supposed to be dead, so what’s the point of celebrating?

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Luna knows that in theory twenty-one is supposed to be a milestone birthday, but she can’t remember the last time she’s associated her birthday with overwhelmingly positive memories as opposed to all the negative ones she has now. Even Frank’s best efforts over the years to cut through the grief she carries aren’t quite enough to make them feel worth anything.

She blinks herself awake slowly, not feeling any different, as if she’s only vaguely aware that she’s another year older today. She’s already awake when there’s a knock at the door, and she pulls herself out of bed as if she’s eighty years old today and not just barely past twenty.

It’s Frank at the door, and she’s not surprised, not in the slightest. She’s always hated the happy birthday song, feeling awkward having people sing to her, but it’s okay when it’s just the two of them. It almost makes her want to cry though she’s not sure why, focusing on the soft glow the candle casts onto his chin from the cupcake, and then he’s telling her to make a wish.

There’s a long pause, far longer than it needs to be, because there are so many things to wish for. The most childish, wishing her father back from the grave, every child’s dream after losing a parent early in life. The simplest and perhaps most realistic, to have her mother back in her life. And of course the wish that’s already granted, to have Frank in front of her, whole and in one piece and alive, like she can sense his heartbeat the moment they’re in the same place.

So she settles, keeps it simple, wishing for him to stay as she blows out the candle.

Luna figures that might be it, and she’s okay with that. It’s already far more of a gift than she’s ever dared hope for, but as she goes about her day, and the gifts pile up both in extravagance and amount, Luna is suddenly aware of how many people are aware of her, and not only that, seem to care. It’s jarring, unsettling, it makes her feel off balance and none of those feelings should be positive but she thinks they are.

A laptop from Aidan, because he’s noticed she’s been handwriting her notes for the last two years. Clothes from Max, Jas, and Aylin because they notice how many holes she’s patched in some of her current wardrobe. Non-necessities like baked goods and spicy ramen and bags from Skylar, Bash, Bea, Jerome, and others.

It’s hard to keep track of the list. She catches herself forgetting who’s approached her with a gift until suddenly she remembers the candy from Aria and the card from Reese. She spends the whole day feeling strange, like she’s still unhappy because why does she feel so strange? Is there something wrong with her that she’s having a negative reaction to so much love?

Luna thanks everyone excessively, obnoxiously, smile threatening to leave her cheeks sore for days, and yet she still can’t process how she feels, can’t understand why it’s not overwhelming happiness that floods her.

But when she gets into bed that night, stomach absolutely aching from the amount of sweets she’s consumed despite not having much of a sweet tooth, Luna realizes it’s actually happiness she’s felt all day, she’s just completely forgotten what it feels like.

It’s almost overwhelming, like she’s filled to the brim with so much emotion that she can’t handle it. She has a bed, and her stomach is full, too full, nobody’s laid a hand on her beyond hugs, and so many people love her that she can’t believe she’s just now noticing.

It’s the first time in years that she cries from happiness, She’s far too young to feel the way that she does, like things are never going to get better, and she realizes that now, that things have gotten better, she just hasn’t noticed.

Luna falls asleep with tears still wet on her cheeks, Frank’s rendition of the happy birthday song on loop in her head.

#if you think i proofread this you've simply never met me #self para #i have nothing 2 say it's bad but it needed to be done

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snowdog49 · 4 years ago

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A Signature

Happy Royai Week Everyone!

Day 1 is upon us.

Prompt: Letters

It didn’t dawn on her until she had written his name one last time, it would be the last time. The days of forging his signature had come to an end and Riza held the pen in her fingers, stuck between the U and the S. There was always no knowing to him, a memory of his name. She was unsure what she was going to do without it now. In a sense, writing his name had become so second nature, that it had become part of her own. Masterfully, she could switch her handwriting from her own to his in a single document. She knew his note pattern, the slight slant and abrasive jolt, narrow lines, of his penmanship. Her’s, on the other hand, was light, fleeting of the ink scribbled over the paper as if the pen was floating across the paper on a wispy cloud. Maybe that was the mastermind of Riza, and she wondered for a moment if and when he did sign his own name, anyone would notice a difference at all? S-T-A- Riza pressed the pen against the paper as she flicked the pen downward of the A and a quick snap as she dashed two lines to form an N.

Now that she thought about it, his handwriting was always abrasive and quick. She would have guessed that it would have been more like her fathers, precise and clean. He should have a perfectly clear written name, something that would distinguish himself among everyone else, but instead it was something that more resembled that he was in a hurry and was angry to even have to sign at all. No, she thought. It always had been a nuisance for him to have to stop at doing anything to sign for something. His image was broken in a simple gesture of the letters on the page which formed the only part of him that was true; his name. G. The lower loop then the violent sweep of the pen to finish it.

Riza sat up and looked at the empty desk which he sat. For years she had served him, by his side, with every intention of getting to this day. She watched over his shoulder, protecting him from physical and reputational harm. She infiltrated the enemy’s attentive gossip and … forged documents. I make a better spy than I do a Lieutenant… then a bodyguard… Riza put the paper on the stack on the corner of her desk, carefully making sure to perfectly scare the edges.

She remembered watching him work on his assignment under her father. It was fascinating to watch someone so dedicated work for hours on end. Though alchemy bored her to some extent, the work was tirelessly long and the studying was fierce, she understood the basics of it. She understood the concepts. At one point, she wondered if he could ever explain the love that he had for it. Alchemy had become a rift between and her and father. What was so important to him to lock himself away like he did? One day she sat next to him, lifting his notebook to her curious eyes to see the dark scribble of his work. It was illegible for the most part. She had to wonder, even as a child, if he did it on purpose? After all, alchemists were secretive in their work. Turning the page she had seen circles, and geometric symbols of an alchemic circle. For the first time, she saw his name, scratched into the paper, like an artist would sign his work.

She didn’t try to be like him though. She maintained her feminine stride for some time while she completed boarding school. It wasn’t until the military, where you signed your name more than you said it, that her name became wavy lines from a large R and a hurried H. You could make out the W and K, but everything else was a wave of the ocean a simple rolling line. It morphed with time, like her, aging as the years progressed. Roy’s? It stayed the same. Had he ever changed at all? Maybe in a sense, he was still the learning boy that buried his nose in every book that was handed to him and ran out of chalk because he wanted to practice his circles through his lunch. No, she argued. He’s changed into a man of laziness and shortcuts. Riza laughed to herself, letting a light chuckle fill the quiet room. But his dedication never faltered.

There was the day he handed her a torn note with his signature on it. “You’ll need this,” he said hushed. “Learn it.”

She nodded seriously, taking the paper home. She practiced, learning each letter of his name in his own handwriting. R-O-Y. One at a time she wrote it out. She worked on his initials, R-M, to mark off certain assignments. Over again and again she absorbed a part of him no one else could. And in a sense, it was the only part of him that she could claim ownership to. Maybe it was an offered gift to her from the start. He trusted her with his name. A curse on most days. An honor on others.

When she was working under the Fuhrer, he was gone from her. The need to sign his name left her fingers and his presence was stolen. She’d go home to see an empty table, bare of his papers and a glass of wine which was hers. A curse on most days. It became that she’d pause when writing, because his name would flash through her brain. M-U-S-T- and she’d think about writing his name just to see it. Of course, writing in her own style only made it look foreign. It wasn’t his at all. It was an imitation; as if she was speaking his name, Colonel rolling off her tongue. And as her mind wrote his name over and over, her fingers expertly wrote her own, R-I-Z-A. After all, that was her name.

The large door to her left opened and Riza looked over to greet the officer coming in. His dark eyes met hers and they both smiled. He was dressed in ceremonial garb, his cap tucked under his arm. His hair was slicked back, shiny and smooth. His shoulders squared, his feet level on the ground. “Hawkeye,” he greeted.

“Fuhrer,” she greeted in return.

He laughed, walking towards her. “Tonight.”

Riza leaned against her desk. “I’m trying it out.”

Roy let out a sigh as he stopped at her desk. “Everything is finished?”

She nodded slowly. “What am I going to do with all my free time? I don’t have to forge all these documents.”

He hummed, looking at the nicely squared stack on her desk. “I think I can still find work for you.” He looked towards her and she felt their eyes connect on that level that was greater in trust than other officers and their adjutant. There was a sense of trust, loyalty, and devotion that rivaled even married couples. “Remember when I asked you out to dinner that one time? And you told me no? You said you couldn’t jeopardize us.”

She raised her eyebrow. “I do,” she whispered, lowering her head.

He held out his gloved hand. “Come to dinner with me.”

She stood up, pressing off the desk as she did so. “General.”

“No,” he stopped her. “Let’s leave our titles behind today. Let me be just Roy Mustang for once.”

Roy Mustang.

“Before we do all this,” he said, grabbing her hand gently. “Can we be what we were to start with?”

Riza looked down at his hand, then back up to his dark eyes. She thought deeply on it. She was always firm about the laws to protect him, to keep him on track as he had asked her to do. How could she crumble in the last day?

“I was thinking about it,” he said softly, squeezing her hand. “I remember this blonde rambunctious girl who was adamant about everything. I miss her.”

“Do you know,” she replied, “that I just signed the last paper for you?”

He let out a light chuckle. “I bet that felt good.”

“It’s like giving up a part of you.”

Roy nodded, a few stray hands bouncing.

“I’ve written it for so long.”

“Well,” he cleared his throat. “I’m not going anywhere and my name hasn’t changed. Now you can just say it instead of writing it.”

She raised her eyebrow up at him.

“I’m serious. You’ve written it, call me by it.”

“Fuhrer…”

“Roy,” he corrected gently. “Come on. I only have a few hours before they announce my greatness.”

Riza stood up, brushing he brangs from her face. “There’s a very nice pasta place on 43rd and Willingham, Roy.”

#Royai #Royaiweek20 #Roy Mustang #Riza Hawkeye #Day 1 #Letters

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geejaysmith · 5 years ago

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Wolf 359 Classpects, pt. 1

Soooo, while I was still busy with the last few weeks of my summer internship, I did keep thinking about classpecting the Wolf 359 cast. Possibly too much, because it wouldn't leave me alone until I'd solved my own God Tier riddle. Unfortunately, it got really long in the solving because I have many Thoughts and want to share all of them, always, so uh, a complete Classpect Analysis of Wolf 359 will be in parts? This first one covers Eiffel's, Hera's, Lovelace's and Minkowski's aspects.

DOUG EIFFEL: An utter no-brainer; ya boi Dougie Fresh is a Breath player if I ever saw one. For Chrissakes, he's the communications officer, and the first one to start complaining about the monotony of being stuck in a deep space sardine can. Breath is associated with communication, freedom, openness, and change - "free as the breeze", you might think of it, but that also leads to Breath players having trouble pinning themselves down to anything. They get skittish if they feel pinned down, and frustrated when stuck in place. Doug's noncommittal aloofness, the way he's off in his own little world (partially to hide from the fact he really does not like himself very much at all), and the way he's incorporated media into his self-perception all match pretty well with John and the Nitrams. But at the same time, he's the one playing mediator even as early as The Sound And The Fury. Being largely outside of the War Industrial Complex the other characters are so familiar with and thus mostly free from its dogmatic worldview of hierarchy and order, he's becomes the One Sane Man when he's the one to shout "what is WRONG with you people?" when "murder" shows up in the top 3 potential solutions to a problem, and he has no hesitation in saying what's on his mind. And it's not all complaints and bad ideas, either; he's got whole speeches telling the others how amazing he thinks they are and how in awe he is of their skills. A key catalyst in the plot of Wolf 359 is the reaching effects of his radio broadcasts. Also, there's something hilarious to the fact that for the aspect associated with communication, Doug *literally* cannot lie to save his life. I kept my ears open for the infamous Breath Hex on my second listen - that is, the strange little way in which things Breath players say tend to come to pass in reality. Cigarette Candy is basically 20 straight minutes of the Decima virus being Breath Hexed into existence, and he guessed Lovelace's situation in one - "Maybe she's a clone, or like a *really* good robot replica."

HERA: Another easy one. Although Hera is resistant to splintering as we've come to recognize it, Heart players are nothing if not determined to be an individual. They have a firm idea of themselves as a person and defend it fiercely, including compartmentalizing away pieces that don't fit their self-image. Maybe less actively putting them down like Jade Harley did to Jadesprite (the manifestation of the negative feelings she repressed out of fear they'd make her less useful) - that would mean attacking or denying a part of themselves - and more... "why yes, I put this part of myself in this box, and I may look at the box on occasion, the box definitely exists, but I don't go near the box and I definitely do not touch or open or interact with the box. And then one day, I will die." So that piece finds other avenues to express itself because it can't not do that. Hera's programming dictates she be "chipper and non-confrontational and always ready to help", but she actively resists being a mere utility and always has - her earliest know action was to attempt a jailbreak of the manufacturing facility she was made in, born rebel that she is. She will insist upon her name over her serial number unless you force her not to, and gets passive-aggressive at people treating her like a machine. And yet, even as she teaches herself to ignore commands literally written into the base of her personality, she doesn't reject her directive to be helpful, nor does she express a wish to be a flesh-and-blood human, or even really to have a physical form? She has a human self-image in mental spaces (we presume, I will semi-seriously point out there's nothing definitively stating she doesn't see herself as like, her fursona or something), but when she has to limit herself to a human-like view of the ship, her immediate reaction is "this is weird, I don't like it." This is honestly something about Hera that I think may be unique among non-villainous AI characters; she seems to be content with being what she is in general, and she just wishes for people to treat her as a person and not a piece of equipment they can do with as they please.

ISABEL LOVELACE: Arm-wrestled Hera for the Heart aspect and lost, despite Hera not actually having any arms, but that's okay because there's two aspects that fit her much better: Blood and Time. I ultimately went with Blood.

This is the part where you notice I'm onto the third of four characters in an aspects-only meta post, yet there is still a lot of post to go. This is because These Kinds Of Characters, the sort that're constantly on emotional lockdown, are a Challenge Mode, and for me to truly be satisfied with my classification I have to start drilling into the bedrock of what it even means to have an aspect in general, what it means to have a specific aspect, and what each aspect is really about. When you're on that level you tend to find yourself throwing out explicit expositional statements as incomplete, oversimplified, or unreliable, and looking at the text directly with a subtextual electron microscope. Brace yourselves. I have thrown the author out of the airlock, and I am about to get verbose.

Lovelace's character sheet describes her in contradictions, and we get to see two different sides to her that resolve into the complete picture by the time Lovelace Mk. III wakes up. There's Captain Isabel Lovelace, goofing around in her earlier logs, and The Terminator. She does things Her Way and is very much prepared to fight you if you object - the whole reason she was picked for the Hephaestus mission was her willingness to go against (in her words) "stupid orders" and do what she thought was right. She's also fiercely loyal; The Terminator is the end result of her anger and grief for her lost crew and at her failure to get them home alive. Her backstory episode has her summing up her complicated relationship to the Air Force with "I owe a lot of who I am to them." And even before she and Minkowski have completely stopped butting heads, Lovelace shoves her out of the way of an exploding wall panel that would've killed her, and takes a near-fatal bit of shrapnel to the gut in the process. At her best, Lovelace is a fearless, boundlessly determined, dedicated firebrand of a leader. At worst, she can be impatient, stubborn, shortsighted, and ruthless. I dunno about you but that reminds me of a certain... angry crab that I know.

"Time" was what a few people chimed in with for Lovelace and while I see some of the connections (her awareness of the time loop, "Variations on a Theme", her multiple selves and multiple deaths, the repeated motif of clocks and pocketwatches) I don't think she quite fits in with the other Time players. Unlike most Time players, she doesn't have a fixation with historic context, the "Why Things Are The Way That They Are." This manifests in Dave's paleontology and his taking of source material for ironic twisting, Aradia's archaeology and knowledge of The Nature Of The Game, Damara's... /noises and vague gestures bc I don't want to go back through Meenahbound but her role as The Handmaid fits the pattern, and Caliborn's own warped, thoughtless replication of narrative archetypes. Context. Decisions. What came before and how it shapes the now, where your decisions will take it from here. The consequences those decisions will have. The details versus the larger picture. Even failure has its place in that scheme - that's the Time aspect. Lovelace doesn't like to dwell, she's a very "barrelling forward momentum" kind of person.

Side note: Aradia, Dave, and Damara all face hesitation to take action they had to learn to overcome. Also, all of them had to be pushed to use violence except in self-defense; Aradia let Vriska cross a series of lines before beating the everloving shit out of her, and Damara snapped after what, years? Of Meenah's abuse. Dave, on the other hand, never raises a hand to another person except as a complete necessity. Caliborn is, if anything, an aberration here in that he's outright homocidal and self-doubt is something that happens to other people. Caliborn is an outright aberration to a lot of Time player patterns, and to SBURB in general, because it's SBURB, so the rules are made up and the points don't fucking matter, except when they do, because Fuck You, The Author Said So.

No, Lovelace's approach to decision-making is that regrets are for afterwards, and "if I fail I deserve to be out of this picture; also, this situation has gone entirely pear-shaped, time to fling myself into the sun." (and that sounds an awful lot like someone that I know very well, but I'll deal with that royal mess when I get to the crazy whamma-jamma that is Classes). Impatience and railroading of other people can be her undoing just the same as assertiveness and decisiveness are her gifts.

...aaand then I went ahead and watched the live episode and yeah, major Karkat vibes there. However, I note that I don't believe we have ever hit hard evidence in Homestuck that Blood players are capable of Chilling The Fuck Out - this is part of the limitations of classpecting characters who weren't made for this system, you really have to dig into how much of their behavior is situational and where you see the kernel of individual perception shine through, the Rosetta Stone by which you begin to see the constants. "Where the object becomes the subject", to quote Memoria.

Finally, I think it's also worth noting that while Lovelace has a lot of connections to Time motifs, she also has connections to a lot of Blood motifs that arguably become more important to her story. Personal bonds and social justice are two of the Blood aspects strongest associations - see Lovelace's loyalty to her crew, and extending her desire to avenge them out to everyone Goddard Futuristics has ever used and tossed aside. The physical body and literal blood are other strong associations, and gee, how many times does the O-negative Cure-All Alien Juice in Lovelace's veins become a critical plot point? Not to mention the implication that her new friends all pulled through the finale because all of them now have her blood in their system. I'll accept that she's closer to the line between Blood and Time than some, but I'm holding by ground here:

(Also, here's some irony for you, she may share an aspect with the Cancer trolls, but her birthday is August 11th, making her a Leo.)

RENEE MINKOWSKI: Minkowski was the hardest of these 4 to come to a decision on. My first inclination was Mind. Her general disposition put me in mind of a Life player. But then, I sat down and thought my way past the Commander's layers of emotional armor and ultimately settled on Light.

First off, by being a stickler for protocol and procedure as well as an Actual Responsible Adult, Minkowski is a kind of character that Homestuck straight-up just does not have, so snap judgements aren't gonna cut it here. This is, again, another limitation of the classpecting system - all the examples we have to draw from are teenage disasters stuck in a lawless hellscape of some description or another, and written by an author allergic to boxing himself in with hard conclusions. But I digress.

Commander Minkowski is also stubborn. When she sets her mind to something, she digs in her heels, cranks the dial to 11, and then breaks off the knob and pockets it so you can't turn it back down. We see this as soon as episode 2, and at it's most hyperbolic when she Captain Ahabs the plant monster. Her's is iron-willed, bloody-minded, unstoppable, Determi-fucking-nation - when she sets her mind to it.

The submarine thought exercise is what had me initially lock her down as a hero of Mind before I mulled it over. The exercise is meant to provoke thought about priorities - what you think your role's purpose is in that situation will determine your priorities, and thus, your decisions. Mind heroes' most prominent skills are in riding the flow of causality, watching decisions, their causes and their consequences, and directing that path. They know people, and how to direct people. But the need for this means that they can get a little co-dependent. Other people are understandable - it's themselves that Mind heroes have the greatest struggle with. Without that vehicle of another person, Mind heroes may find themselves adrift and struggling to define themselves. This is fitting, given Mind is the most direct counterpart to the Heart aspect.

However, upon further examination, I found that this framework of priorities setting your decisions can also be extended to the Light aspect. What is "lucky" in a given situation? What do you define as a fortunate outcome? Rose arguably gets Grimdark'd by something like this, she asks the cue ball "are the horrorterrors evil?" and in doing so attempts to pry into the motivations and intent of *indescribable eldritch beings existing on a nigh-incomprehensible plane* and wedge it down into a relative human understanding of morality, which is sort of like trying to fit the Pacific Ocean into a water bottle. She was trying to deduce what impact the horrorterrors would have upon her and her friends, but asked the wrong question and got an answer she couldn't handle. She didn't recognize Doc Scratch was baiting her into this by leading her into a specific framework through which to ask the question. Vriska died because of her failure to recognize she was in a situation where luck didn't matter. Aranea got trounced because of her inability to recognize that reshuffling reality to prioritize herself and her preferred outcomes still didn't overcome the fundamental nature of timelines - you try to take over the alpha timeline with an insubordinate branch? That's a doomed timeline no matter how you slice it, and we know what happens to those. Luck and knowledge are both used by the Light-bound to give themselves power, whether in showing themselves off as The Smart One or the The Helpful One or The Unstoppable One, but their limited viewpoint often leads them to overlook the limitations of their own framework, or in other words, missing the bigger picture. I'll point out here also how Minkowski has the entire DSSPPM memorized and is the one who wants to get to the bottom of whatever the hell is really going on up at Wolf 359. Additionally, one of her other ambitions, at least once upon a time, was writing musicals. The verbal arts are one of the domains of Light players.

So while on the surface, Minkowski bears the most resemblance to a Life player, Life players tend to have an element of conformity to them. Unquestioned assumptions they've internalized have about the context in which they exist. Light heroes, on the other hand, need conformity so they have something to defy when they jump up and down screaming LOOK AT ME!

So after much pontificating, I came to a decision. In the end, what Minkowski wanted more than anything else was a stage. Maybe to direct rather than hold the spotlight, but still; that's a Light hero if ever I saw one.

#wolf 359 #homestuck #classpect meta #holy crossover batman #wolf 359 classpects

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javathewildone · 5 years ago

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One Day - Heartland AU (Pt. 23)

Summary: Heartland is a horse ranch run by Jack and his grandson Ty dedicated to rehabilitating both horses and the criminals that work with them. It’s also the place Amy Fleming is banished to after getting herself into a situation that will change her life forever. Thousands of miles from home living with total strangers and an uncertain future, with the help of an unlikely group of people, she discovers what second chances are all about and strives toward a new beginning she never expected. Inspired by the Heartland episode 4.08 - One Day and based on Anne Howard Creel’s novel “The Magic of Ordinary Days.” Rating: PG-13 for language, drugs, and violence. (The stuff that makes a story fun!) Parts: 22, ... 24

Ty rode solo to the temporary pens they set up to separate the cattle until they were all fully branded, inoculated, and ready to be sent back out to roam the range. With their skeleton crew, they didn’t have the luxury of posting someone with them at night to keep an eye out for predators, or worse, rustlers. They were lucky enough not to have any such encounters with the thieves, but neighbors lost several dozen head of cattle a few years ago that were never found. Rustling was a rancher’s worst nightmare, especially when cattle were their primary source of income. Heartland was fortunate enough to have its toes dipped in other things, but it would still be a hard hit to lose any of their livestock.

While there was that ever present hope in the back of his mind that he wouldn’t find anything amiss once he made it over the ridge, Ty’s thoughts primarily bounced between Amy and Kit for both different and similar reasons.

He cringed thinking back to the way he snapped at Amy over Kit’s phone call. Then shook his head at the memory of how the rest of that day went. Assuming he was right in his discovery, he would hate himself for a long time for the way he acted. Amy’s secrecy was understandable, but the truth would have saved them a lot of confrontation. Ty knew he would have felt similarly about her residency, but he’d have been more sympathetic to her attitude. Maybe. Knowing the truth could have also saved him an argument with Kit. Not according to Caleb, but Ty didn’t think he would have been as defensive had he not already been up in arms because of Amy.

Caleb’s words filtered through his mind: “You’re using Amy as your scapegoat.”

Ty scoffed, ruffling his hair with a hand as Harley picked his way over the narrow path. He was realizing that now as he gave his mind a chance to branch out in the silence and analyze things more thoroughly. She was the easy target.

“Christ, Harley, am I truly that horrible?” Being the easy target was apparently what brought her there. Ty shook his head again, hoping to clear it of all the negativity that congregated there. Unfortunately, in doing so brought back his fight with Kit. Or, lack thereof. She probably would have preferred a fight to Ty’s actual rebuttal of “I don’t know.” He still didn’t have much of an idea otherwise. What he felt for Kit was still there in some small form. He just wasn’t sure if those feelings actually fizzled out or if he suppressed them so forcefully for so long they no longer knew how to properly manifest. But, in either case, how fair was it to keep allowing her to be dragged along until he figured his shit out? Could he go on ignoring her and their issues and hope they went away? Probably. Should he? Probably not.

Ty sighed as they cleared the ridge and the cattle came into view. How was it that dealing with someone he knew his whole life was harder than a complete stranger with a sinister past that could pop up at any moment? Likely because he lived through the latter.

Ty let his thoughts idle for a while as he focused on checking the cattle. After a quick head count and few loops around the perimeter, he was satisfied they were all there and well. Still, he paused to linger a while, savoring the time alone that he didn’t often get despite living on a ranch of 600 acres. There was often too much work to be done to think about “me time,” so when opportunity came they all took advantage of it. Plus, he figured Amy would appreciate the lack of him for a while. Coward. His conscience told him. Learning what he had, Ty was now unsure of how he would approach Amy once they crossed paths again. Perhaps it would be better if he just tried to avoid her altogether for a while. Coward. Well, how the tables have turned.

”Come on, boy, let’s head back.” Coward or not, he was learning that trying to ignore things he didn’t want to confront just turned around to bite him in the ass.

The ride home seemed to go a lot faster than when he left. Before long they were riding along the far pastures toward the barn. He did a thorough scan of the yard, not seeing Amy anywhere but catching a glimpse of his grandfather disappearing back into the Quonset hut after sliding the new fence pole into the bed of his truck.

Ty dismounted in front of the barn, leading Harley into his stall to untack him then let him out in one of the smaller paddocks out back. As he passed the office, he glimpsed Amy kneeling on the floor. Once again his curiosity peaked and he approached the doorway as he had the night before when he heard her snooping. This time she wasn’t fingering through his mother’s possessions, but rather scrubbing the floor of the vomit she so gracefully deposited there the night before.

Swallowing the inappropriate remark that came to mind, Ty consciously kept himself in check as he announced himself with the subtle clearing of his throat.

Still Amy jumped at the sound, standing quickly to face him. She eyed him warily, gripping the stiff brush at her side. For a long moment they sized one another up, but this time Ty viewed her differently. They way she stood so rigidly, tension snaking up her spine. Before he could say anything, she spoke first.

“What? Come to interrogate me some more?” Her voice was clipped, but he could hear the slight quiver in it.

He stepped into the room, making her tense further, if that were even possible. Her eyes flicked to the doorway and he noticed then that they were in the exact same precarious position as the night before.

“That depends.” He stopped where he was, no intention of advancing further.

“On?”

“Whether or not you’re ready to willingly answer questions.”

Amy scoffed, stiffly dropping the brush in the bucket of soapy water and picking it up. “That would be a hard no.”

Ty waited for her to brush by him in a huff, but she remained standing in the corner as if waiting for him to take the hint and leave so she could too. More and more his theory of what happened to her became concrete.

“Fine. But we’re not done. Meet me at the house when you finish with that.” He nodded toward the bucket then left without another word, leaving Amy standing there confused, and a little miffed.

As soon as Ty went up to the house to forage for some lunch, the ache in Amy’s shoulders eased. She hated how Ty could so easily wind her tight as a drum. His actions last night and that morning were a big part of her involuntary reaction to his presence, but she hated how she had no control over it. Her fight or flight instinct was kicked into overdrive a lot easier than it used to be. It also didn’t help that Ty caught her in a very private moment of vulnerability earlier, leaving Amy to now wonder if and when he was going to decide to use it against her. He now possessed fragile knowledge of her weakness, even if he didn’t fully understand what it was he witnessed.

Now Amy’s anxiety about what Ty wanted distracted her to the point of forgetting what she was doing. She left the bucket and slumped against the filing cabinet. She didn’t have to go. She could stay right there in the office until…what? He would just come right back there looking for her. Or just wait her out. She wouldn’t last long before her grumbling stomach pulled her back to the house. It wasn’t like she had a means of escape unless she stole a horse that she had no clue how to ride. Or… hotwired a vehicle.

Slowly, she pushed off from the cabinet and wandered outside, trailing her eyes across the driveway to the two trucks that were parked in front of the house. Coward. She frowned. What was she thinking? Stealing a truck? What would that get her?

”You okay?” Amy startled as Jack approached, tugging off his work gloves, a cautious look of concern creasing his brow. After her episode in the chicken coop, he made it a point to wander by her every so often to make sure she was still in one piece.

”Sure.” Amy took a slow breath in attempt to hide her guilty thoughts. ”Are you heading up to the house soon?” A hopeful thought. If Jack was there then maybe Ty would back off.

”Few things to finish up first. You go on ahead.”

”Do you need some help?” Amy blurted, causing Jack to freeze and look at her with a surprised expression. That was the first time she ever volunteered to help with anything. He expected her to grumble and try to argue her way out of anything he asked her to do for the near future.

He recovered quickly, though. ”I appreciate the offer, but I can handle it. You earned a break. Go rest a while.” He nodded her off and continued to his business, leaving Amy feeling deflated.

Heaving a sigh, she headed for the house. Honestly, she’d been through hell and back, whatever Ty wanted couldn’t be any worse.

Ty knew better than to hold his breath waiting for Amy to show up, if she even bothered to at all. He took his time washing up and hunting around for something for lunch, making a mental note to stop at the grocery store for more cold cuts. With only peanut butter and jelly to make a sandwich, he opted instead to make some pasta after finding a jar of tomato sauce. He was just dropping the pasta into the boiling water when Amy made her appearance.

She hovered in the kitchen doorway trying to assess his mood. Though Jack welcomed her into his home, Amy felt like nothing but a trespasser when Ty was around, especially since he was banished to the barn. Was this the moment of retaliation?

“I’m making some pasta if you’re hungry.” He spoke easily, his tone holding no contempt. This made Amy even more uncertain about what was happening.

”Is that why you brought me in here? To make me lunch?” Amy’s voice held no such ease. She wasn’t in the mood for games.

Ty had to bite his tongue to keep from retorting. She really did make it hard to talk to her. He sighed, dropping a lid on the pan. ”No. I brought you here to call a truce.” He leaned against the counter and crossed his arms.

Amy’s reaction was similar to Jack’s as she froze, lifting her head a tad higher. She went silent for a moment, considering Ty’s sincerity. Then her eyes narrowed. ”…Why?”

”What?” Ty lifted his brow.

”Why do you want to call a truce all of the sudden?” Her tone held suspicion but her gut was starting to twist nervously. Did he find out something?

Ty shrugged. ”I’m just over it. It’s exhausting and stupid.” As if Amy would so easily accept that reason.

She shook her head, mimicking his stance. ”After what we said to each other, I highly doubt you can just be “over it.” Don’t lie to me.”

Eh, worth a shot. Breaking their stalemate, Ty turned to the stove to stir the pasta. ”The truth?”

”Duh.” No, not really, but she needed to know what he knew.

”This morning,” Ty started. Amy swallowed. ”left me uncomfortable all day. And last night. I never saw that kind of fear in someone. It’s been bothering me. More than I realized.” Ty didn’t turn to face her, giving her the courtesy to look shaken without needing to hide it. She appreciated that much as her nails dug into her arms.

”I know someone hurt you. You don’t have to admit it, but don’t bother denying it either. You don’t hide it as well as you might think. I don’t know who… if it was your father or the father of your baby or someone else, but I just want you to know that I’m not going to be one of them. I hurt enough people over the years because of my stupid mistakes. So, I’m over it. All the bullshit. It’s time to move on.”

Honestly, Amy was stunned to silence, and for a moment at the end unsure if Ty was still talking about them. Either way Ty apologized. He may not have used the actual words, but it was there between the lines. Now the question was could she forgive the hurtful things he said to her? He didn’t know her story and that was her own fault. Now, he managed to decipher a few key things that changed their entire dynamic. She was shaken by it, absolutely. This was the closest she came to facing her demons since the stick turned blue and she had no other choice. And she knew in that moment that she wasn’t ready. To admit Ty was right. To share her story. Her tragedy. It was too fresh and still scared her awake in a cold sweat at night.

She took a long moment to gather herself and find her voice so it didn’t quiver when she spoke. ”I can live with the fact you don’t want me here. And you’re well aware of the fact I don’t really want to be here either. What I can’t live with is your pity.”

Ty raised a brow, a little insulted. ”I don’t pity you. Believe me.”

”No? Then what is this?” Amy didn’t believe his sincerity. If she hadn’t seen Jack all morning around the yard, she would have bet Ty’s sudden change of heart was his doing.

”This is me trying to bury the hatchet to make both of our lives easier.” Now he was getting annoyed and regretting his decision to man-up.

”Why all of the sudden?”

Ty threw his hands up. ”You know what, forget it. If you want me to continue being an asshole so you can go on playing the victim then fine. You seem to be pretty good at it. You’ve got my grandfather eating out of the palm of your hand.”

Heat rose to Amy’s face. ”I’m not…” Her voice caught. ”I’m not playing any game.”

”Could have fooled me.”

”This my life, Ty!” Something in her snapped and her voice rose to a shout. ”What kind of mental case do you think I am to think I could derive pleasure from this?! You don’t know anything about what I’ve been through!”

”And whose fault is that? Are you that ashamed you can’t even say it to the people trying to help you?” His voice rose to match hers, but there was no harsh edge as there was last night.

His words made Amy recoil. The heat in her face was no longer from anger, but humiliation and tears welled in her eyes. She blinked and looked away from him, every nerve in her body tensing to bolt out the door.

Ty stood waiting for her to answer him. For once he didn’t press her, but the silence between them was pregnant with unspoken secrets. He could feel her desire to run. If she did, then that was it. They’d probably never make it passed this point again.

”Yes.” The word was thick as it rolled off her tongue. She almost choked on it. But once it was out, the air lightened.

Ty blinked. ”What?”

”I said ‘yes!’” She yelled in a fury, arms falling to her sides as her hands rolled into fists. Tears began to fall in thicker streams as she glared daggers at him. ”Is that what you wanted? For me to admit how ashamed I feel for letting myself get caught in this situation? Or how much I hate myself for wanting to end it?” Her heart ached at the last confession and she lifted her hands to rest protectively over her belly. She felt guilty saying it out loud when so many times she told her child she wouldn’t hurt them. But it was a thought that didn’t leave her alone, especially when she woke from the nightmares.

Ty swallowed, stunned. He hadn’t expected Amy to break. She fought him round for round every time they went at it. As irksome as it was, he gave her credit on her resilience. It seemed, though, that their bickering was wearing on her too. It had been two days and it felt like months.

”No,” Ty answered simply, deciding not to add fodder to the fire.

It was Amy’s turn to blink. ”What?”

”I just wanted you to accept a truce. I’d like to be able to sleep in my own bed again.” He shrugged as if her outburst was a gross overreaction. Which, it kind of was.

Amy stared at him, unable to decide if she wanted to continue being angry at Ty for brushing her confessions off or “get over it” and call the truce and move on. ”You can’t put that on me.”

”I’m not, I’m just…” Ty sighed, exasperated. ”That was a joke.”

Amy frowned. ”I just broke down in front of you and you’re making jokes now?”

”Oh my god. I was trying to lighten the mood. You’re very bad at this.”

”What are you talking about?” Amy wasn’t understanding what was going on. Now all of the sudden Ty was trying to be the funny guy? He was a total jerk to her every other time of day.

Ty pursed his lips, deciding it was better not to attempt further explanation before he dug an even deeper hole. ”Nevermind. Pasta’s ready.” He switched off the burner and carried the pot to the sink.

”I’m not hungry.” Amy turned and went back outside to find Lobo whom she left in the barn. At least he was welcome, quiet, company.

Ty turned to watch her go. Again he sighed and pinched the bridge of his nose to try and release the start of a headache. ”Can’t say I didn’t try.” Shaking his head, he went back to draining the pasta. All they could do now was wait and see how their next encounter fared. Ty wasn’t about to continue sleeping in the loft like hired help, but he also wasn’t about to continue trying to make nice if the attempt was only one-sided. There was only so much his patience could take.

#heartland #fanfiction #one day #amy fleming #ty borden #jack bartlett

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thechillingadventuresoflili-blog · 6 years ago

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Chapter twenty, my sweet people. Lilia is back and she knows who she is. Hope you enjoy it. Even though this chapter is probably shorter than the others. As always, this is dedicated to @zeciex, @lovelykhaleesiii, @frucienlover, @hedgewitchhollow, @heda-mikaelson, and @satanskittles.

Chapter Twenty After The Ritual

Lilia opened her eyes after the ritual was complete and stared into the black, demonic eyes of Michael Langdon, the love of her life. She smiled and flung her naked body against his, her arms wrapping around his neck. His long hair tickled her nose and she laughed.

“It’s been too long, Boy Wonder.” She whispered as she leaned back to look at him, moving a strand of hair from his face. “Your hair grew. It looks great. More to tug on than your curls.”

Michael chuckled and placed his bloody hands on her cheeks. “God, I missed your sassiness.” He leaned in and kissed her. A sweet kiss that told her how much he had missed her.

She pulled away and smiled at him, moving away from his lap. “Come on. Let’s get this blood off us. We have catching up to do.” She turned on the shower and waited for him to join her.

Half an hour and one very satisfying shower later, she was sitting in the chair before the fireplace, watching him. “What happened after you set the identity spell?”

“I met with The Cooperative and started building the Outposts.” He crossed his legs and smiled when her eyes moved down his form. “I take it you like what you see.”

She blushed and looked away from him, smiling. “And what of the witches? Where are they?”

“I thought the bombs had killed them off, but I believe at least one remains. The Grey, Mallory, is one. She damn near burned off my ass the other day.” He chuckled and looked at her. “There is a package coming in the next few days filled with apples. Venable and Mead will be filling them with venom from the snakes.”

She shivered as she thought of the snakes coming back to life after they had cooked them. “That was you, wasn’t it? You asshole.”

He chuckled again and waved his hand around. “This place was boring before I came here. Admit it.”

“You made Gallant unbearable.” She hesitated and looked at him. “You didn’t fuck him, did you?”

Michael looked at her and shook his head. “No. That was magic in the rubber suit from the Murder House. I saved it before the blast. Do you really have little faith in me?”

Lilia bit her lip and looked away. “You’re a man. The Antichrist. You have needs and I wasn’t there to fulfill them for you.”

He got up and knelt down to one knee to look her in the eyes better. “I didn’t want anyone else, but you. You are my other half. My Lilith. My lover. My Queen. Don’t ever forget that.” He leaned in and kissed her with a passion that burned through her all the way from the top of her head to the bottom of her toes.

Lilia smiled against his lips as the alarm went off for the perimeter. “I’m guessing that’s your apples arriving. “

Michael nodded and smiled, standing up and moving to the door. “You will meet me here when they are all getting ready for the Halloween celebration they have planned, yes?”

“Halloween is coming up? That’s how out of the loop we all are.” She rolled her eyes and stood up with him. “May I come here tonight? I missed you too much to be away from you any longer.”

Michael leaned down and captured her lips in another kiss, nodding when he pulled away. “Of course, you can.”

And with that, Lilia went to join the rest of the Outpost to hear the announcement from Venable about the Halloween celebration.

Looking around the room with her memories of before the bombs dropped, Lilia smiled as she saw Dinah Stevens, the Voodoo Queen, with her son, Andre. Coco and Mallory were witches. She was sure about them being the last of the Coven. She wondered what exactly Cordelia was planning when she put them in this Outpost.

At least she knew she was safe. Lilia remembered Michael saying that he would erase her from the Coven and anyone associated with them. She just hoped that it worked.

Everyone was a buzz with the party for Halloween. Some wondered if Michael would announce the people chosen to go with him to the Sanctuary. But, Lilia knew better. It was a means to an end. She was happy that all of the annoying people would be dead after Halloween. She was tired of them all. Especially Gallant, who wouldn’t shut up about the man who had fucked him and saying it was Michael.

“Like he would ever want to fuck you.” She snapped at him one day in the parlor as she was looking for a new book. “Has he come to you since you ‘found’ your precious nana?”

“Well no. But, that’s because he’s been busy interviewing the Greys.” He said with such confidence it made her blood boil.

“You moron. You really are dense. I thought gay men were supposed to be smarter when another man was into them.” Lilia chuckled as she stood up to walk over to him, not knowing that Michael was in the shadows. “Just to let you know, while you were hiding in your room, masturbating to Langdon.” She got up real close and whispered. “I was riding him and screaming out his name as I came all over him.”

“That’s a lie!” Coco jumped up to defend her hairdresser. “What would Langdon want with someone like you?”

“Everything.” Lilia told her and turned to see him standing in the doorway. “I’m in trouble, aren’t I?”

He smiled and nodded, walking away towards his office. She looked over her shoulder at the two and winked at them, walking faster to catch up with him.

In his suite, she bit her lip as she closed the door behind her. “Was I in the wrong? Putting them in their place like that?”

Michael stalked over to her and sighed. “Just as stubborn as ever. What am I going to do with you?”

“Love me. Duh.” Lilia smiled and kissed his lips softly.

“You are going to be the death of me.” He walked away from her and went back to his Macbook, sending an email to the rest of The Cooperative who had managed to survive. “I think it would be better if you stayed in this room with me until Halloween. Wouldn’t want any of them to go telling Venable about us and then them trying to kill us, now would we?”

She sat in front of the fireplace and watched do his work. “No, we wouldn’t.”

“If you continued to have run your mouth, one of the Greys would have told her.” He turned to look at her. “As much as I love you, I can’t lose you again. Not even permanently.”

“When are you going to bring back Mead’s memories? She’s a bitch now.” Lilia whined. She normally wasn’t like this, but her soul told her that something was wrong.”Michael, I feel weird. Like my skin is itchy. I don’t know how to explain it. I feel as though something will happen.”

He got up and walked over to her, kneeling in front of her. “Nothing will happen. I swear it.”

That night, the Banshee in her made itself known. The dream was awful. The witches had made their way to the Outpost and challenged Michael. He tried to fight, but when Mallory enacted Tempus Infinituum and went back in time to kill Michael before he learns he is the Antichrist.

Lilia woke up screaming as she felt the car run over her lover and his life force leave his body. Michael tried everything he could to get her to be quiet, but this scream was different than any of the others that he heard her do.

When she finally calmed down and stopped, she clung to him, sobbing so hard that her whole body shook. “They are going back in time.” She whispered.

“What? Who?” Michael pulled her away from his body to look at her.

“They are going back in time to kill you.” She sobbed as she tested every bone in her body. “They send that bitch, Mallory, back in time to kill you when your grandmother kicks you out of the house. I felt you die!”

He looked at her as if he didn’t believe her. “Are you sure?”

“Tempus Inifintuum. That’s what they use.” She got up and went over to the chair she was sitting in earlier that night, tears still pouring down her cheeks. “You kill everyone else, but Cordelia, Myrtle, and Mallory. Mallory gets stabbed and is taken to the tub in my room of all places. They try to heal her but can’t. Cordelia confronts you and stabs herself, dying to give Mallory the power to do it.”

He got out of bed and walked over to her, moving her hair from her face. “We have to stop them. You have to do it. Perform what they do.”

“I don’t know if I’m powerful enough to do so, Michael. I’m powerful, but not Supreme powerful.” Lilia was now terrified of him dying.

“You can do it. I believe in you.” Michael kissed her head and got ready for the day to deal with Venable and Mead later that night.

Lilia wrapped her robe around her and went to her room, trying to think about how to help him. She ran her hands through her hair and bit her lip as she paced her room. She looked to her bathroom and thought about how he used his rituals to talk to his father. Maybe she could talk to Lilith.

Lilia went to the bathroom and undressed. Waving her hand, she lit all the candles in the circle and stepped in the middle of it. She took a deep breath and sighed as she sank to her knees. Making lines up her wrists with her finger, she gasped as the skin split, blood pouring from her body. “Lilith, I need your help. Michael is going to die if I don’t do something. Rise from the void and help me.” She drew a pentagram in her blood like she had seen Michael do so many times before. “The witches are going to kill him. Please, help me, Lilith!”

She closed her eyes as whispers began to fill the room. She tried to listen to what they were saying, but there were too many of them. She sighed, thinking that she had failed when a gentle hand touched her cheek.

“Open your eyes, my child.” A feminine voice whispered in her ear.

Her eyes popped open and her face was looking back at her, but with dark hair. “Lilith.”

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otheroutlandertales · 6 years ago

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The second part from the prompt “Roger and Bree go through the stones together.”

Part 1

En Même Temps - Part 2

by @theministerskat

Oxford, December 1970

It was a damp night in Oxford, and just cold enough that snowflakes began to fall as they walked along the River Cherwell. Brianna watched as the heavy, wet snow came down around them in large crystals, floating to the earth as if in slow motion. Her arm was looped tightly through Roger’s, the slight chill of the wind imploring her to lean closer into him for warmth. Just like Boston, she thought to herself.

A particularly cold gust had her trying to burrow herself into him even more, and she glanced up at him. One flake after another landed on the top of his head, their bright white color sitting in stark contrast to his dark hair, before melting away into nothingness. She smiled to herself; he was so beautiful - tender, yet rugged - and a part of her wondered why she ever had reservations about her own feelings for him.

With the snow blurring and distorting everything around her but Roger, Brianna couldn’t stop her thoughts from straying back to the memory of their foggy walk along the River Ness the year before. “I’ll wait.” His assertion made with such sincerity and understanding, that she nearly forgot her own excuses for why they couldn’t be together just then.

She returned to Boston though, and Roger went back to Oxford. Frequent calls were placed; him catching her just before she started her day, and she ringing just before he went to bed. Their letters across the Atlantic held the passionate declarations that never found their way into their conversations over the phone. He made the journey to see her in April. With no obligations, they spent the week perusing museums, exploring old bookshops, and simply enjoying each other’s company.

Brianna became sure of it then; knew that this was the man she wanted to spend her life with. But there was still a full year before they could be together, before she finished school. She didn’t feel rushed to tell him, assured by his words - and actions - that he was waiting for her.

You should have told him, she admonished herself as she loosened her grip on his arm.

In the last three months, his letters had become less passionate, and more a direct, straightforward synopsis of his days. Their phone calls occurred less often and were short. Roger always having to ring off, excusing himself with research for a new project, or so he told her. She’d felt the strain in his voice and written words, as though he had carefully chosen each word.

He’d been distant since she’d arrived. No - not distant, she thought. Reserved. He was guarded, like he was building a wall between them. His actions confirmed what his letters only hinted at; he was drifting away from her.

You made him wait too long, Brianna cursed herself. You told him no then, and now he’s found someone else.

In her desire to be completely dedicated to him, to know her own heart fully, she had also given him the opportunity to reconsider his own. She never questioned Roger’s devotion to her, realizing now that she had taken it for granted. How could you be so stupid? She felt the doubt that had been accumulating in her heart grow.

Maybe it’s for the best, to end it now. Brianna had come to Oxford to ask so much more of him than he, and even herself, ever imagined she would. Yes, it was better this way. But she had to hear the truth from him.

Pulling herself out of her own mind, Brianna noticed him staring out across the river, deep in thought himself, absent from the moment once again. She wouldn’t stand by and let the space between them grow anymore.

“Roger?” The quiver in her voice was hard to mask, but she pushed back the doubt she was feeling and continued, “Is something the matter?”

“Hmm?” He pulled himself back to reality. “What’s that?”

She came to a stop, but he continued a few more steps until their arms fell apart. The sudden loss of her warmth jarred him, and he turned back to her, head cocked to the side in question, not quite meeting her eyes.

“I said, ‘Is something wrong?’ I’ve been here for three days, but I feel like you haven’t been here at all.” She sighed, knowing full well he’d be able to hear the sullenness in her voice. “You’ve hardly looked at me... hardly touched me.”

He met her eyes this time. There was warmth there, and love too she thought, but not the depths of emotion she had seen before.

“Just tell me.” Her pleading tone couldn’t be helped now. “Tell me if there’s someone else. I’ll understand.” She would, but that didn’t mean it wouldn’t break her at the same time.

“What? Someone else? Oh god, Bree, no.” He stepped towards her, but she took a step back. He froze, and brought his hands up, running them through his wet hair.

He was thinking hard, she could see his mind working all across his face, confused, but working out what to say to her. Her stomach dropped at the possibilities of his words, and she took a deep breath, bracing herself.

“Have ye ever thought about what ye’d do if we find ‘em?” His gaze traveled down to the path beneath his feet, and his hands found their way into the pockets of his Mac.

“Find them? Find wh-” She stopped, the meaning of his words finally registering with her. “My par- my mother and Jamie?”

“Aye, if we do find them, would ye try to go back, Bree?”

Brianna stared at him, mouth slightly open, but she was unable to form an answer. Roger moved towards her, a bit more tentative this time. She didn’t pull back, and his hands came up to rest on the curve of her hips, his touch snapping her out of her own shock.

Suddenly, it all made sense, and her body relaxed in relief. He found it. He had found the notice and he was preparing himself to lose her. Brianna felt an inappropriate need to laugh. She thought he wanted to call things off with her, but he believed the same of her.

“Roger, did you find the- the newspaper article?” She had stopped herself from calling it what it truly was: a death notice.

It was his turn to be flabbergasted. He blinked several times, very slowly. Then, his lips curved up in the faintest hint of a smile.

“Ye found it too, then?” He paused for the briefest of moments, but continued before she could answer him, “Aye, I knew ye would.” She thought there was a hint of pride in his voice and in the look he gave her.

“Yes, just a couple of weeks ago.” Her voice trailed off, the reality of the entire thing finally settling in her. Finding the notice had been shocking. She had been looking for something, anything, of her parents; using all of her freetime to comb through collections of newspapers more than 200 years old. And there it was. Thinking about it, she felt the tears begin to well in her eyes, and the first one fell down her cold cheeks.

Roger pulled her closer to him, one arm wrapping around her, while the other came up to brush the tear away.

“Ye’ll be able to see them. Ye’ll go back, hen.” It was a statement, no doubt in his words. He would help her, even if it meant losing her. “I promise I’ll make sure you have everything ye need.”

She composed herself as best she could, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. Yes, he would see her safe, he just didn’t realize how far his promise might take them both.

She pulled his head down to hers and kissed him.

“Roger, I do want to go back. But I want you to go with me.”

Continue to Part 3.

#outlander fanfiction #otheroutlandertales #mod kat #pair: roger x bree #ch: bree #ch: roger #canon divergence #book: DOA #category: mf #en meme temps #oot #*

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ejm513 · 7 years ago

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EXPLORING RELATIONSHIPS-VICTORIA AND HECTOR *REVISED VERSION*

Hello my lovelies!! I wanted to go back and edit this post because I realized there were some improvements that could be made-for example Victoria’s age when she died. I messed that up… period. Also having some time to think on certain other things about it that I want to change. I meant to go back and fix some of these things while ago but of course it never happened because life sucks and college sucks. Okay college actually doesn’t suck it’s very important if that’s the path you want and I am going to miss my school so much when I graduate in two weeks. So here is an updated version of my Victoria and Hector relationship head cannons!

Just as before this is dedicated to my grandfathers and every wonderful grandfather out there. I may not have mine with me but I know they are watching over me and I can only hope I’ve made them proud.

-Despite her kind’ of cool no nonsense demeanor I think Victoria would be the first to accept Hector… sort of. When Hector is brought back to the Rivera home Imelda would naturally be the one to help him heal, but I think as strong as she is she runs herself ragged both physically and emotionally. When that happens Oscar and Filipe pretty much drag her away from Hector’s bed side and make her rest. He still needs to be watched though and to no ones shock Rosita volunteers. But what sends everyone for a loop is Victoria volunteering as well.

-This is surprising because outside of helping Miguel she wanted nothing to do with him-not out of spite or anger because she is not a spiteful person … she just doesn’t know what to make of him. This man who she never knew, who she only heard negative stuff about (except from her mother on occasion), who hurt her Abuela and Mama was suddenly in their home. Not only that everything she knew about what happened was a lie-he didn’t just abandon them he left. So yeah it’s a lot to take in and process.

-But adamantly Victoria doesn’t volunteer to watch him out of any love for him-for all the reasons mentioned above. She does it more of love for her Mama and Imelda, and sheer curiosity.

-Hector has pretty much been a sleep since Miguel managed to save him and when he is “awake” it’s only briefly and he’s quite disoriented. It’s Rosita and Victoria’s job is to just watch him and calm him down if he wakes up.

-It’s during this time that Victoria’s curiosity turns into general concern-he looks so fragile and weak, like he’s not completely safe yet. She’s never really seen anyone in such a state and it unnerves her to say the least. But the longer she looks at him, the more concerned and conflicted she gets. Not only does it reinforce that his life still hangs in the balance, but she can see the see the resemblance not just to her mother but to herself. They have the same cheek bones, same chin and in Victoria’s case the same height. Seriously look at them in one of the few moments they’re standing next to each other and TELL me they don’t resemble each other.

-Basically the longer she looks at him the more it settles in that they’re family. Despite his mistakes-and despite she still has reservations about him-this is her abuelo and she prays that he’ll be okay.

-While she’s sifting through her thoughts she takes his hand without realizing it and gives it a squeeze. This actually wakes him and he’s still weak and confused. He asks where he is and once again Victoria acts on emotion (which is not normal for her). She gives his hand another squeeze and says;

“You’re home abuelito, you’re safe.”

-Hector looks very confused and repeats the word. Victoria replies,

-“It’s Victoria, your nieta.”

-Hectors smiles weakly at the sound of the word and fall back into his slumber.

-Its only when she sees Rosita staring at her in shock that she realizes what she did and is completely embarrassed and overwhelmed. Like a lot of people (including myself) Victoria reacts rather poorly when feeling this way. She makes Rosita swear not to tell a soul about what she said.

-From that moment on she keeps her distance is rather cold to Hector when he begins to truly recover. She hopes he doesn’t remember what she said but wouldn’t you know-he does remember…. sort of. He vaguely remembers someone holding his hand and calling him “Abuelo.” Victoria tells him nothing like that happened and wants to leave it at that. Hector isn’t convinced and asks her one too many times, causing her to snap. She says something along the lines of

“Please just please drop it! You were hallucinating-do you understand? I never said anything like that and as far as I am concerned I will NEVER say anything like that! Now would you please just let it go and leave me in peace?!”

-Now we know Victoria is not a nasty person at all BBBBBUUUUUTTTT she is a lot like Imelda-which means she is prone to acting stubborn and mean, especially when she’s embarrassed or overwhelmed. This was one of the moments. She immediately knows what she said was harsh (and prays to the heaven Mama Imelda didn’t hear). She opens her mouth to apologize but Hector just walks away without really saying anything. But of course she does-most of the house does. Before she knows what happen she’s swept into Imelda’s arm and taken away for what she knows is not a pleasant conversation.

- Rosita goes to Hector. He’s very despondent and it’s clear he’s taken Victoria’s words personally. She pats his shoulder and though she knew Victoria would be mad if she told Hector the truth, it would be better for both Hector and Victoria in the end. So their conversation goes something like;

Rosita: You were hallucinating Papa Hector. She did call you abuelito.

Hector: I know I wasn’t. I didn’t mean to push her. I was just..

Rosita: I know that Papa Hector. However, you need to understand things from Victoria’s point of view. She’s grown up only hearing… certain things about you, and that was all she ever knew. She’s also not like me or Coco or yourself. She doesn’t warm up to people easily or adjust to sudden changes very well. You need to give her some space to adjust. She’ll come around… eventually.

-Meanwhile Victoria is having a rather uncomfortable conversation with Imelda. Imelda is not being mean at all, but she’s laying down the law. She says something along the lines;

Imelda: Mija I know more than anyone else in this family how upsetting this has been. You’ve spent your whole life believing your abuelo was a bad person who didn’t care about this family… and that’s not your fault. I’m so sorry I let my own hatred and anger influence you bebita, it’s not fair to you or Hector. All he wants is to get to know you and be a part of your life… well after life. I’m not asking you to do anything you’re not comfortable with, or expect you to open up to him right away. All I ask is that you give him a chance, because he’s not going anywhere.

-Victoria takes her words heart and later that day she swallows her pride and goes to Hector.

Victoria: I’m…. I’m sorry I snapped at you, and that I kept saying you were hallucinating. It wasn’t right. I just… I need time to get used to all of this.

Hector: Why don’t we start over again. Soy Hector, your abuelo

Victoria: Soy Victoria your nieta.

-From that moment on they slowly begin to build a relationship… emphasis on slowly…. which is a little hard for Hector. He understands she needs time to get used to him being around and he gives her that space. But this his granddaughter-his little girl’s oldest child! It’s like having a little piece of Coco right in front of him. It’s hard for him not to dote on her, to just hug and kiss her and be the abuelo he never got to be. However just like with everyone else in the family, he gives her space until she is more comfortable with him.

-Much to Hector’s chagrin it’s just taking her a little longer than the others-at this point it’s been three months since Dia de los Muertos and even Imelda has let him sleep in the same bed and is openly affectionate with him. Victoria still hasn’t gotten beyond distant and very uncomfortable small talk.

-However Hector watches her to try and find something to break the ice between them and it only makes him love her more-and not just because she’s Coco’s child. He grows to love her for who she is. He loves how quick witted she is, how when she’s not working on shoes she’s always reading and like her Mama Imelda finds her perpetually annoyed expression adorable. What shocks him though is that Victoria can sing. Hector only knows this because he walked in on her singing to herself while she did the dishes… unbeknownst to her of cores. She has a very soft, sweet little voice that wouldn’t make her famous but is very endearing. Luckily despite his minimal frustration Hector his a very patient man and continues to give her space.

-Then, there’s finally a break through. It’s the beginning of March and Hector notices Victoria is even quieter than usual and everyone is super sweet with her. She always seems to be staying rather close to her Julio. He doesn’t say anything, but it’s clear something is off. However, it’s not until he’s alone with Imelda that he asks why everyone was acting so strange today.

Imelda: Today is the anniversary of Victoria’s death.

Hector: Really?

Imelda: Most of us don’t think much about our deaths, we all passed away rather peacefully. You and Victoria on the other hand…

Hector: What?! What happened to her? She wasn’t… she wasn’t…

Imelda: No no mi amor nothing like what happened to you- but she died suddenly and young... not unlike you. She was only 38 when she passed.

Hector: What happened?

Imelda: She had aneurysm. She was fine one moment and then the next she was gone.

-Hector is horrified by what he’s told. I totally think when someone dies they can still feel the same sensations that you felt when alive. He feels his heart break at the idea of Victoria dying suddenly and young… just like him. He ends up finding her sitting outside with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders, just looking at the sky. Hector sits down next to her and before he has a chance to say anything she says;

Victoria: Who told you?

-They begin to have a real and meaningful conversation, bonding over the fact they both died young and suddenly. Then it turns into just talking. Victoria tells him about her life-how she had always been a sickly kid, how she had been bullied in school for her height and serious nature, how close she had been with her sister. Hearing how much she had suffered throughout her life broke Hector’s heart. Without thinking he wraps her in her arms and holds her close. She doesn’t pull away-she lets him hold and comfort her.

Hector: Mi probe mija… you had a hard life.

Victoria: I wish you had been there abuleito.

*Hector holds her tighter and kisses the top of her head*

Hector: So do I angelita, more than you’ll ever know. But I’m here now, and I will never leave again.

-This ladies and gentlemen was the start of a special relationship. After that conversation Victoria noticeably more comfortable around Hector. He still gives her some space but is more of the doting abuelo he wants to be. He starts calling her his “angelita hermosa” (I’m so sorry if that’s wrong… I’m trying but I have no grammar anymore.) He gives her hugs and kisses her forehead and will sing along with her while doing mundane chore. They also bond over books because Hector actually loves to read, much to Victoria’s shock.

Victoria: You read?

Hector: Don’t sound so surprised!

-Fun idea-after being told she loved to read Miguel left a copy of Harry Potter and the Sorscers Stone for Victoria and she becomes HOOKED. Convinced that she would love as much he and most of friends do, he leaves the next six books for her and she devours them all. This is how she learns Hector loves to read because he catches her reading one of the books and ask about them;

Hector: What’s this?

Victoria: Harry Potter. Miguel gave them to me.

Hector: Them?

Victoria: *tosses him the first book* Read it and get back to me.

-He read it all right and the moment he’s done (which only takes maybe two days) he goes to her utterly enraptured. They start to talk *cough cough* geek out *cough cough* about the book. He finishes the series quickly, and every time he finishes a book they’ll talk about for hours-after work of cores. Though Imelda secretly lets them have a little more time to chat about books-she’s just so happy that he finally has a good relationship with Victoria.

-Victoria and Mama Imelda teach him some basic in shoe making because he expressed interest in wanting to learn and contribute to the business and it quickly becomes apparent Hector has absolutely no talent. Out of a desire to not ruin their relationship Imelda stops teaching him quickly and Victoria continues to try her best. In the end Hector is relegated to delivery and other mundane task around the shop-as well as playing music for them.

-They LIVE to tease each other. It’s all in good humor and with love of course. Sometimes it has to do with their choice in literature-

“You’re reading that?! What is wrong with you?!”

Sometimes it’s a harmless jab at certain personality traits. Hector will sometimes poke fun at how Victoria tends to take everything seriously, and she’ll make fun for being “a royal spaz”.

-By the time Coco comes to the Land of the Dead they are quiet close. Though she may not outwardly show it Victoria loves it when Hector calls her his angel and waits impatiently for when they can discuss the next book they’re reading together. Remember Victoria is still Victoria-and she doesn’t seem like the type of person to be so open with her feelings (most of the time anyway). However clear she adores him. She’s also more open to giving him a hug and maybe even a kiss on the cheek.

-When Coco sees this for this time she is overwhelmed with joy. Though she was elated to become a mother, she was always heartbroken her daughters never knew their abuelo. To finally see them together was nothing short of magical.

-And though Victoria may never say as such out loud, she feels blessed to have Hector in her life, and wouldn’t trade him for anything.

#coco #pixar coco #Hector Rivera #Victoria Rivera #exploring realtionships #revision #I messed up a little the first time #hopefully this is better

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some-cookie-crumbz · 7 years ago

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Shades and Hues

Title: Shades and Hues - Kidge Week Day 6 Prompt Fill Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Pairing: Kidge Summary: Soulmate AU where you can only see the color that is most significant to your soul mate until you realize you’re in love with them. Standard Disclaimer: If you read and enjoy this, please give it a like/ reblog so I know if I should write more. AN: So, for anyone that remembers, I wrote a [Soulmate AU] for last Kidge Week too. Initially I had no idea what to do for this one, but then I realized that I could do this other idea I’d had! Though it might sound a little similar to the last one, I guarantee that it’ll be a unique flavor all it’s own.

It was between the ages of five and seven that children gained the ability to see in at least one color that was most important towards their inevitable soul mate. For Katie, it was on a Saturday morning when she was six, as she rolled out of bed to go watch cartoons with Matt in the living room. She had only been paying half a mind to the world around her, still half-awake from staying up too late playing video games, as she walked down the stairs and headed towards the kitchen. She poured herself a bowl of cereal, headed towards the living room, plopped down on the couch next to an equally groggy Matt, and shoved the first bite into her mouth. It was when she glanced down for her next bite that she realized that the Fruit Loops didn’t look quite the same. She slowly cocked her head at the non-grey loop floating in the milk.

She then let out a loud, excited shriek as the realization dawned on her. Matt, startled, ended up sending his own bowl of Cap’n Crunch toppling over on to the floor while Colleen and Samuel both came running out.

“It’s the color purple,” Colleen said happily, smoothing back Pidge’s hair.

She looked up at her curiously then cocked her head, looking at the little loops that showed up in color as opposed to variants of gray. She liked it, being able to see it. “What do you think it’ll mean?” She asked, lifting her head to look up.

“Something amazing, I’m sure,” Samuel chimed in, helping Matt clean the mess of milk and soggy cereal out of the carpet. He leaned back a bit and grinned up at her. “That’s the beauty of it, Katie. Why that color is so significant… It’ll mean the world to you, once you find out why.”

“Oh yeah?” She asked.

“Yes. It’s a sign of how close the two of you have become… Whatever reason has caused that color to be important to them, it’ll be revealed to you once you two have reached a certain level of trust and comfort, when the two of you grow to understand one another on a deeper level. After all, they themselves won’t be able to tell what color it is, so it’ll be up to you to determine the why of the color. It’ll be a big moment, to say the least,” He said, turning a quick glance towards Colleen. His wife blushed and smiled shyly at him.

“I take it you’re speaking from personal experience?” Matt teased.

Samuel smiled back at his son. “Maybe I am. I’ll tell you more about it once you get older,” He said lightly.

Matt let out a small whine of disappointment but didn’t argue with their dad to say anything more. “Your dad’s right, though. It’ll be a moment that you’ll never forget, and then once you realize you’re in love with them and everything comes into focus for you… Oh, darling, you’ll never know a greater feeling than that,” Colleen chimed in happily.

“So seeing in color is really that great?” Katie asked, cocking her head curiously. The idea of seeing in color always appealed to her, calling to her on a deep level. The idea of being able to take in all the small details of life and the things around her always sent a thrill through her.

Colleen chuckled and shook her head. “Seeing in color is nice, Katie, but it’s the sense of belonging… The realization that this is someone who will be there for you, who trusts you with the deepest and most private factors of themselves… That is worth more than being able to see all the colors,” She mused, cupping her daughter’s face and pressing a small kiss to her forehead.

She looked up at her mother, at the happiness in her eyes and the giddy smile on her face, and felt a smile of her own turn up on her lips. She let her curiosity of what exactly was the reasoning behind the color she saw slide off to the side to simply bask in the joy of having a small spark of color in her life. After breakfast, she went to get dressed for the day. She paused after combing her hair, noticing a few little clips with stars on them at the bottom of her drawer. She could see them, practically glowing with their light purple color and one small stone of some sort in center. Her parents had told her that the stone in the middle was actually white anyway, so it being colorless made sense.

She picked the clips up and snapped them in, using them to keep her bangs out of her eyes. She grinned widely at her reflection before scampering off to ride down to the park with Matt.

……………………………………………………………………………..

The thing about traveling through space, as she realized, was that there weren’t a lot of color to things.

She supposed that it didn’t really make much of a difference for her, all things considered. Coloration in the universe around her was still something she lacked. They told her she was piloting the Green Lion and, despite being unable to actually see the color for herself. Altean tech, as they were told by Coran and Allura, whom didn’t have the issue of colorblindness, was primarily white and blue in color. It showed up to her as white and light gray. Most of the color-coding she did was because she had labeled things on her computer with the help of her parents, using symbols to represent different colors, since she couldn’t see most of them, simply because she figured it’d be easier to pull things up if they were organized and tidy. It was a bit disappointing to her that there was so little in their lives on the Castle Ship that was made of the color she could see.

Galra technology, however, was primarily purple in coloration.

It made her more interested in hijacking their materials and working with them, since it was occasionally nice to be able to see the hue of her functioning devices. It was one of the reasons she ended up pilfering so much Galra tech when they were on assignments. While she was never too bothered by her inability to see other colors, it was an inconvenience from time to time. Not being able to see all the fine details of her Lion, being able to distinguish all the different colors on her clothes without asking someone else, or even just being able to know what exactly the color of her own eyes were things that she had often times lamented but she didn’t realize just how much bad it could be until she was up in space.

She left the hanger one night, hoping to maybe find something else to do than work on programming this or that, and ended up out on the main deck.

She stared out at the black-and-white speckled abyss all around them, fighting back a sigh, then paused when she was another figure in the room. Settled off to the side, sitting with his legs stretched out in front of him, was Keith. She blinked then reached over to lightly tap his shoulder. He jerked up and looked over her, hand twitching towards the small knife he kept handy, then let his shoulders droop a bit. “Oh, Pidge… It’s just you,” He breathed quietly.

“Didn’t mean to startle you,” She said, before shifting and settled down beside him, making sure to keep a comfortable distance between them. She turned her attention back out towards the bland sky before them, where his gaze had been focused before. “Taking in the view?”

He shrugged. “Not really. There isn’t really anything out there that I can actually see, but it’s kinda nice to see all the stars and other worlds and everything,” He mused. He turned his gaze back out at the sky. “There’s not a whole lot that I can see in color out here, which is… weird. Back at the Garrison I could see a lot, and even on my own there were still things I could see.”

“Really? What color did you get?” She asked.

“Yellows that have a kind of goldish tint to them, interestingly enough. I thought that maybe the Garrison would offer some answers, maybe at least give me a hint as to who it was I was looking for,” He admitted. His eyes flickered from star to star, seeming to study them even if he couldn’t completely distinguish them from one another. “I thought that maybe I’d meet someone there, but it just never happened. I’ve never been good at connecting with people so… I guess that it makes sense that I would struggle with finding someone like a soul mate.”

“Doesn’t mean that you won’t find them, though. I mean, you can be a little tough to get along with some times, but you’re a really great guy. Once you get comfortable and are willing to open up a bit, you show that you’re loyal and dedicated and caring. Your soul mate has to be out there and I’m sure they’ll be someone who blends with you really well,” She said, reaching out to settle a hand on his upper arm. He paused to stare at her, eyes wide and coming into startling detail for her. “My parents always said that seeing color is secondary that the sense of belonging and comfort is what really means the most. I believe them when they say that. I think with patience and having an open-mind, you’ll meet that person someday soon.”

He stared then chuckled and smiled, his eyes shining almost as bright as a white light. “Thanks, Pidge,” He said gently.

She flashed him one of her trademark grins and nodded. “Any time, pal,” She mused before turning her attention back towards the sky. She sat and enjoyed the comfortable silence between them, breathing in, before she nudged his leg with her knee. “You have beautiful eyes, by the way.”

#Voltron legendary defender #Keidge #Kidge #Peith #Kidgemas #kidgeweek #kidgeweek2k18 #Pidge Gunderson #Keith Kogane #my fics

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lady-divine-writes · 7 years ago

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Kurtbastian one-shot - “Common Courtesy” (Rated PG)

In order to combat a common problem down at their rink, Sebastian institutes a new rule. (1731 words)

Notes: In case anyone's wondering, yes, this happens a lot at my rink, and I've wanted to tell parents to do just this literally every single day.

Part 38 of Outside Edge

Read on AO3

“Higher, Melanie! Higher! I want to see that leg in the air! And point your toe more! Madison, dear! Tell Melanie to point her toe more!”

An exasperated Madison looks at her young student, who had been doing her spiral perfectly before her mom began to bellow, and sighs.

“Point your toe, Melanie,” Madison deadpans, then crosses her eyes, which makes Melanie giggle. But Melanie laughing at the faces Madison pulls out of her mother’s line of sight makes the woman furious.

“Melanie! Show your coach some respect! I don’t pay her $50 a lesson so you can disrespect her!”

Madison rolls her eyes at the mention of her fee, which Mrs. Dickerson has tried to re-negotiate multiple times without success. Compared to other coaches, what Madison charges per half hour is a steal. But not every parent sees it that way.

Definitely not Mrs. Dickerson.

“Y-yes, mom,” Melanie replies, shrinking into herself. Madison puts an arm around her shoulders and leads her away, trying to find a spot where Melanie’s mother can’t bother them. But the rink is basically a fish bowl. There’s nowhere they can go that her mother won’t see.

“Respect your coach. Why doesn’t she try respecting her kid,” Kurt grumbles, occupying himself by writing in his skating journal, planning out the choreography for his next competition routine. He’s been doing his best to ignore Mrs. Dickerson, the way he tries to ignore all of the moms and dads who sit on the sidelines and bark criticisms at their kids as if they have been coaching figure skaters their entire lives. Most parents sitting in the hockey boxes have never set foot on the ice competitively a day in their lives. But the second their kids show some interest, suddenly they’re Marina Zoueva.

“Most parents don’t think they have to,” Sebastian says, just as irritated as his boyfriend. “Not when the kids want to be here and they’re signing the checks.”

“Except yesterday, Melanie didn’t want to be here. She twisted her ankle in practice the day before, and it’s still acting up on her. She told her mom over and over that she wanted to go home until she was in tears. And you know what her mom said? Deal with it. Yeah. It’s easy to tell your poor ten-year-old kid to deal with it when they’re the ones with pain in their legs, exhausted, afraid of twisting an ankle and falling on their heads, while you sit in the hockey box wrapped in a warm coat and blanket, doing nothing but yelling nonsense.” Kurt shakes his head, trembling with anger. “You know, my mom was a competitive skater for years and she rarely criticized me. And she sure as hell never yelled across the rink at me.”

“Come on, Melanie!” Mrs. Dickerson yells, snapping at her daughter as if she were a dog. “Get your butt moving! I want to see you land at least one double Axel before we leave.”

Melanie’s eyes pop. She looks at Madison, who puts her hands protectively on her shoulders.

“With all due respect, Mrs. Dickerson,” Madison says, “we just learned the single Axel. I’m not sure Melanie’s quite ready to land a double just yet. Give her a few months, and when she’s had a little more practice, we can …”

“With all due respect, Madison,” Mrs. Dickerson interjects, mockingly, “I think I know better than you what my daughter is capable of. I’ve been watching her practice that single for the better part of this week. Now, I want to see her land a double, or we’ll be here till this place closes.”

“That’s only six hours from now,” Sebastian says, seething. “And she’ll probably duck out for an hour in the middle to go to Starbucks.”

“Poor Melanie.” Kurt hugs his journal to his chest. “She doesn’t deserve this. She doesn’t want to compete. She’s not looking to go to the Olympics or anything like that. She just wants to perform, wear a sparkly dress, do some spins and jumps. You know, I think it should be a rule that if parents want to criticize their kids’ skating, they need to do it on the ice with skates on. Then maybe they’d see that it’s not so simple as pointing your toe more or lifting your leg higher.”

“Yeah,” Sebastian agrees, chewing that thought over in his head. He has an idea, but he’s debating exactly how much trouble he’d get in for doing it. In the end, he decides what the heck. Is the Westerville Ice-plex really going to kick him – a national champion – out of their rink for trying to get a mom off their kid’s back? Probably not. “Hey, babe. You’re into all that fashion stuff. What size shoe do you think Mrs. Dickerson wears?”

“Uh … I don’t know. A six, maybe a six-and-a-half. Why do you ask?”

“I think you came up with a way to get Melanie’s mom off her case.” Sebastian gives Kurt a quick kiss on the cheek. “Start practicing. I’ll be right back.”

***

“Melanie! What the heck are you doing with your arms? Hold them out straight! Straight!!”

“Hello, Mrs. Dickerson,” Sebastian says, then waits a moment for acknowledgement. When he doesn’t get it, he continues. “I came to give you these.” He puts a pair of beat up old grey-and-black rental skates on the bench beside her. The woman barely glances at them before she scoffs and says, “What’re those for? There’s nothing wrong with Melanie’s skates. Besides, she can’t skate in rentals.”

“They’re not for her. They’re for you.”

Mrs. Dickerson jerks as if Sebastian spat in her face. “What in the world …? Look, I know you’re a national champion and whatnot so they pretty much let you do whatever you want around here. But I don’t appreciate being fun of, young man.”

“No, what you don’t seem to appreciate is how difficult what Melanie does is. The physical exertion, the skill, the dedication. And we’re all sick and tired of listening to you berate her over something you know nothing about! So, from now on, if you want to comment on her skating – her posture, her arm position, anything at all – you’re going to put on those skates, and you’re going to go out there and tell her personally! $5 says you fall on your ass after two seconds.”

That’s what Sebastian wants to say. He’d also wanted to throw those rental skates right in Mrs. Dickerson’s pinched, mutant, bull terrier-looking face. But he didn’t because, regardless of how much of a jerk Melanie’s mom is, she’s a customer. So what he does say is: “It’s a new policy the coaches have come up with to cut down on the amount of extraneous noise in here while our skaters concentrate on their routines. Competition season is coming up, you know. So we’re asking parents to skate over to their kids if they need to talk to them … as a courtesy.”

“You must be joking.”

“Nope. It’s actually not a new concept. A lot of other rinks have started doing it all across the country.”

“Well, I’ve never heard of it.”

“It’s not the kind of thing a lot of rinks advertise,” Sebastian says with a commiserate chuckle, “but it’s been proven to work wonders in helping skaters maintain their focus.”

Mrs. Dickerson crosses her arms, glaring at Sebastian skeptically. “Has it now?”

“Yup. If our skaters are going to perform at their best, they need to concentrate on their coaches and their choreography. We’re just doing everything we can to make sure our skaters turn into champions. Make sure you get your money’s worth.” Sebastian winks and flashes her a smile. It’s forced, but he’s gotten better at faking it. Still, Mrs. Dickerson doesn’t look completely convinced. Melanie skates by, preparing to perform a single Axel – single loop combination (an attempt on Madison’s part to appease Melanie’s mother). But right before she sets up, she drops her shoulder. Sebastian sees her mother begin to stand, mouth open, and he knocks on the wall of the hockey box to get her attention. Her eyes snap to him, annoyed at being interrupted, but he simply shakes his head and points at the skates.

“I’m sorry,” he says sweetly. “But if you want to talk to her, you’ll need to put those on.” He turns on his blade and skates away, leaving her simmering on the bench with the pair of rental skates by her side. Melanie lands a second single Axel. It’s more or less technically accurate except for her hand position, which, of course, will improve over time.

Nathan Chen didn’t land a quad in a day.

Melanie’s mother is itching to comment on it. Kurt can see it in her eyes, the way they widen; her lips twitching at the corners. But she hesitates. Her mouth drops open, but nothing comes out. Her gaze finds Sebastian on the ice where he’s joining up with his boyfriend to go over his routine. Then she looks down at her side, like she’s considering putting the skates on. But eventually she relents. She was right about the Westerville Ice-plex basically letting Sebastian do what he wants. He and his boyfriend are like rock stars there. Even if Sebastian is playing her for a fool, the management would probably take his side.

He brings them money, after all.

She slides down the bench and away from those ludicrous skates. She sticks her earbuds in her ears and reluctantly starts watching videos on her iPhone. Huddled inside her coat, she ignores Melanie and Madison, as if that’s some sort of punishment. Madison sighs, gives Sebastian a grateful smile, then goes back to helping Melanie with her routine.

Sebastian doesn’t turn around to see the fruits of his handiwork, but he can tell by the expression on his boyfriend’s face that his bluff had the desired effect. It may not end the criticism altogether, but it might give Melanie a much needed break for a while.

“You are so bad,” Kurt says, giggling behind his hand as he pretends to scratch his cheek.

“You said it yourself,” Sebastian says, wrapping his arms around Kurt’s waist. “If parents want to talk down to their kids about what they do on the ice, let them do it in skates.”

#kurtbastian #sebkurt #sekurt #frankie writes

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calliopesquill · 7 years ago

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A Year in the Life: Chapter 5

Guess what! I decided to post before midnight tonight lol

You all are seriously amazing, you know that? The responses I have been getting for these last chapters have been incredible and I can't thank you enough.

Special thanks to all of you who left me such wonderful comments. It really makes my day every time I get one and there are a few these last couple weeks that almost made me cry. So really, thank you.

With that said, on to chapter 5!

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Chapter 5: La Familia Rivera

Nell needed to start setting alarms when she worked. She’d gotten so buried in her novel planning and concept sketches that it was three in the afternoon before she finally surfaced, and that only happened because her stomach had let out a growl loud enough to wake the dead. She pushed herself away from the table with a groan, letting out a muttered curse as she stretched, her back protesting at the hunched position she’d been in for the last three hours. It was definitely time for a break.

She shuffled across the kitchen to her fridge, only to find it almost totally empty. Right… I was supposed to go grocery shopping this morning.

She sighed, shutting the fridge again. Better to do that now, and maybe grab an early supper on the way. She was too hungry to cook. But first she should probably get dressed. Her style may be casual, but it definitely wasn’t “leave the house in pajamas” casual. Nell traded her pajamas for a pair of comfortable flower-printed shorts and a white tee shirt, twisting her hair up in a messy bun as she stepped into her pink ballet flats. After a quick double-check that both her keys and wallet were still in her purse, she was out the door.

As she walked, she went over what she’d come up with for her new novel so far. It would be narrated by the guitar itself, a twist that she would not be revealing until near the end. She didn’t have much for her protagonist yet, but was toying with the idea of him stealing the guitar for himself at first, so the story could be something of a redemption arc for him as well. There would be no familial connection between the hero and the guitar’s original owner, however. She wanted to tell her own story, not just re-tell something that had already happened.

She was contemplating the design of her main character when she was nearly knocked off her feet by a small, bony form. The dog continued on past her to dance around the feet of an old woman in a blue button-down dress.

“ ¡Oye! ” The woman protested, shifting the grocery bags she carried to one arm so she could shoo the dog away. “ ¡Abajo! Abajo, perro tonto. ¡No saltar! ”

The dog, completely ignoring her commands to get down, jumped at her again, knocking her bags from her hands in its attempts to smother her with affection. It only backed away when it saw her reaching for the sandal on her foot, electing instead to plop down next to her and begin chewing on its own leg.

Muttering to herself, the woman began to pick up her spilled groceries, letting out a muttered oath when she saw the strap on one of the bags had snapped. She looked up when she saw a second set of hands gathering up the spilled fruit and reached for her sandal again, prepared to fight off any tonto stupid enough to try to steal from her. But instead of running off they pulled a folded-up cloth bag from inside their purse and began putting the spilled food inside to make it easier to carry.

Nell stood, brushing off the road dust, and offered the woman a hand to help her up. “ ¿Estás bien? ” She asked, picking up the bag of groceries she’d helped pick up.

“ Si, gracias ,” the woman answered, then shot a fond but vaguely frustrated look towards the dog that still sat at their feet. “No thanks to you, silly dog.”

“Is he yours?”

“He thinks he is,” the woman shrugged. “He comes to the house sometimes, looking for food. He is very fond of my grandson.” Now that she could actually get a good look at the person who had helped her, she recognized the young woman who often sat in the plaza. “You are one of Coro’s tenants, si? The artist.”

“My name’s Nell,” she said with a smile. “It’s nice to meet you. Did you want some help getting these back home?”

“Ah, I will be fine,” the woman said, waving her off. “As long as someone --” Here she shot another look at the dog, who gave her a harmless doggy smile. “--does not jump on me again.”

“Aw, you won’t jump again, will you?” Nell asked the dog, giving him a scratch behind the ears. The dog gave a small huff, leaning into her hand as his skinny tail beat a tattoo against the ground. “Cuz you are a good boy.”

The dog barked the affirmative.

“You are a nice girl,” the woman decided. “My grandson, he says very good things about you.”

“Your grandson?”

“ Si. My Miguelito. He talks to you sometimes when you draw at the plaza.”

“Oh, you’re Miguel’s abuelita !” Now it all made sense. “It’s a pleasure to meet you at last. And that must mean that this handsome boy here is Dante.”

Elena snorted. ‘Handsome’ was not exactly the word that she would have chosen. What he was was dumb as a bag of rocks, but he was sweet-natured and very dedicated to her grandson, and the rest of the family by extension, so she’d developed a soft spot for the silly thing. “You are very good with dogs,” she noted, seeing Dante roll over so Nell could scratch his belly.

“I always wanted one growing up,” Nell confessed as she gave in to his desire for pets. “But my dad was allergic to the hair. Couldn’t handle cats either, so I never had a chance to have a pet growing up. And then after I moved out on my own I couldn’t really afford one so… “ She shrugged.

“This one seems to like you,” Elena said with a small nod. “He is very foolish, but he knows good people. You will come for dinner.”

“Thank you. I -- wait, what? Oh, no, you don’t have to. That’s very generous but --”

But Elena overrode her protests. “Nonsense. You will come tonight and meet the family.”

“I --- okay.” What else could she say? “Is there anything you’d like me to bring? I could make dessert.”

“No, no. I have all that I need. You will come tonight for six and we will have a nice dinner.”

“Ah… Okay. Thank you.”

Despite protests, Nell insisted on escorting her home anyway, telling her to keep the cloth bag that the extra groceries had been carried in as Elena’s other one was broken. The moment the door had closed Nell dashed off down the street to the grocery store.

She ended up making chocolate chip cookies, though she’d had to borrow a pair of baking trays and a serving platter from Tia Caro. She had been told not to bring anything but she had been strictly mother-trained not to arrive empty-handed when it came to dinner invitations. As the cookies cooled, Nell traded her shorts and tee-shirt for a casual emerald green maxi dress topped with a candy pink knit bolero sweater. Mindful that she was visiting a family of shoemakers, she paired her outfit with a pretty pair of black and gold strappy sandals. Her hair she tied back in a low, looped ponytail that would keep the curls out of her face, but would not give her a headache as the night went on.

She walked carefully towards the Rivera home, praying that she wouldn’t trip and spill all of the cookies before she got there. It might have been early October but to Nell it still felt like mid-summer. The leaves would have just started to change color back home and the neighborhood kids would all be in a tizzy picking their Halloween costumes. She smiled fondly at the thought. Halloween had always been her favorite holiday, though more for the costumes and the candy than the spook-factor. Funny enough, Nell could not handle horror movies or haunted houses at all. Her friends had tricked her into watching A Haunting in Connecticut one night and she barely slept for a week.

She’d be missing Halloween this year, but would be trading it out for her first experience with Dia de los Muertos. Already people had begun decorating, draping colorful cut-paper banners between the buildings. There were areas of Santa Cecilia where the little flags were always present, but there were always more come fall. It was a little early for people to be putting out the elaborate calaveras figures that were also used to decorate, but Nell did spot one or two between her place and the Rivera’s.

Thankfully she made it to the house without incident and knocked on the front door at promptly five minutes to six.

The woman who answered the door was just shorter than she was, dressed in a cheerful yellow blouse and a bright pink skirt. Her hair was dark and straight, tied back in a low, loose braid. She had a youthful face, with smile lines just appearing around her eyes -- some of which, Nell guessed, could be attributed to the toddler at her hip.

She smiled when she saw her. “Ah, you must be Nell. Mama told us you would be joining us for dinner. Please, come in.” She nudged the door open with her foot, stepping back so Nell could follow her into the courtyard.

“ Gracias, Señora Rivera. ”

“Please, call me Luisa,” the woman insisted, resettling her daughter on her hip as she closed the gate. “And this one here is my youngest, Soccoro. Miguel has told us so much about you. He says you are an artist.”

Nell nodded. “Yes ma’am.”

“Miguel really likes your books. He wanted to bring them home from the library so he could show his prima Rosa but they did not have them, so he has been showing her on the computer during their lunch hour. She really likes your heroine.”

“I’m glad they’re enjoying it so far,” Nell smiled. “I had a lot of fun writing it.”

“It shows. Ah, but you must be tired of carrying that tray. Come, I will show you to the kitchen. Mama should be just about done with dinner.”

“She told me not to bring anything but I wanted to contribute somehow,” Nell admitted, following Luisa through the courtyard. “I’m better with desserts than actual meals, so I figured chocolate chip cookies would be a good option.”

Luisa chuckled. “We will have to hide those from Miguel until after dinner. And this one too,” she added as little Soccoro reached for the tray.

No sooner had she said that than Miguel burst from his room, still dressed in the white button-down shirt and navy pants of his school uniform. “Mama I’m done my -- hey! Nell! What are you doing here?”

“ Ay! Manners mijo. Your abuelita met your friend this afternoon and invited her over for dinner.”

Miguel cocked his head curiously. “How did you meet abuelita?

“A certain affectionate xolo decided that the best time to give her kisses was when she was carrying groceries,” Nell told him. “I just happened to be nearby and helped her pick them up.”

He laughed. “Dante is still working on his timing. Are those cookies for us?”

“After dinner, mijo ,” Luisa told him. “Your abuelita should be almost ready, so why don’t you get out of your school clothes and you can help set the table.”

“Okay Mama.”

Abuelita Elena was the undisputed head of the Rivera family. She was a life-long shoemaker but it was in the kitchen where she truly reigned supreme. Everything was timed to the minute on an internal clock born of practice and instinct. Nell, who could not put a perfectly-timed meal on the table if her life depended on it, wanted to applaud. Elena seemed to know everything that was going on in her kitchen at all times and even though her back was turned, she was instantly aware of other people entering her domain.

“Ah, Luisa! You are just in time,” she said, not even turning around as she plated up a tray of ribs in a spicy-smelling sauce. “And you have brought Penelope with you. Good. I like it when people are on time.”

“I’m obsessively prompt,” Nell smiled. “And please, call me Nell. I brought some dessert for later. Is there somewhere I can put it where little cookie-monsters won’t be able to help themselves before dinner?”

Elena gave a short snort of laughter. “Anyone in my house knows there will be no desserts until after their dinner. For now you can put them on top of the fridge.”

Not for the first time Nell was grateful for her height, as she barely had to stand on tiptoe to set the tray atop the fridge. As with many homes it was a local showcase of family achievements; well-graded assignments and art projects from the varying Rivera cousins covered the door, fixed with colorful magnets. As she turned away she could see Elena glancing at her sandals out of the corner of her eye.

“Your shoes. They are pretty, but they were not made for you. They are too flat. You move like a dancer, but in those things you walk like a duck.”

Nell let out a snort of laughter. “I was a dancer, from about the age of four. Quit after I finished university because I moved out and couldn’t pay for lessons anymore. Took three years as an adult to train myself out of that turn-out so I could walk with my feet parallel again.” She still caught herself standing in ballet-third when she wasn’t paying attention. “I have a hard time finding sandals a lot of the time because most of them come in four styles: cute but flat as cardboard so zero arch-support at all, cute but with massive heels and can only be worn for like an hour before you want to die, cute but eat your feet and leave raw patches and blisters, and comfortable but really ugly. There is no place for ugly shoes in my wardrobe.”

Elena nodded in approval of the sentiment. There was no place in the world for ugly shoes at all in her opinion. Cheap shoes were an insult to her craft. No Rivera would be seen wearing cheap, poorly-constructed shoes, and if she had her way then no friend of the Riveras would either. “Come, you take that plate there and help me set the table and we will talk about shoes that you can wear for the rest of your life.”

“I -- okay.” What else could she do? She didn’t want to come out and say that custom-made shoes were not a luxury that she could afford right now. Most of what she had had gone into this trip, and though her book sales and commissions were keeping her afloat, they didn’t leave much room for luxuries. She took the plate and followed Elena into the chaos that is the dining room.

Seeing the number of people gathered, Nell stopped short and stared. When Elena invited her to dinner she didn’t think it would be with the whole family. It looked like half of Santa Cecilia had managed to fit itself around the table.

“Come, come. Put that plate down right here. Si, right next to the tamales. Manny, Benny, stop teasing your prima Rosa and come sit down. Abel, you shuffle down and make room for our guest. Todos, esto es Penelope. Penelope, mi familia.”

“Ah...hi everyone.” Nell set the plate down and gave a shy wave. “Please, call me Nell.” Should she start wearing a sign? She really felt like she should start wearing a sign. Something simple like ‘ Please do not call me Penelope until I am over the age of 65. Thank you.’

A seat was left for her between Elena and a woman who introduced herself as Miguel’s Tia Gloria. She then introduced Nell to her twin boys, Benny and Manny, who were a couple of years into elementary school. They weren’t particularly interested in introductions, and were much more focused in which of them could stuff the most food in their mouth at one time.

Miguel’s father Enrique, a tall man with a dark moustache, passed a platter of food to his wife before turning to Nell. “So, Miguel says you’re an artist.”

The question was offered casually but Nell had the distinct impression that what she was being asked was actually something very different. “Yes, sir. I write graphic novels -- comic books -- but I take other commissions as well. I’m setting my next series in a place similar to Santa Cecilia so I’m living here for a few months as I work on it because I want to get an authentic feel for the culture and the lifestyle and the architecture. I spend a lot of time doing reference sketches in Mariachi Plaza. It’s got really great atmosphere and that’s something I really wanted to capture. Then that one over there --” She nodded at Miguel. “--got curious one day and decided he wanted to know who the weird turista was who kept writing everything down in a giant notebook.”

“You should see her sketchbook. It’s really good,” Miguel told them. “She was drawing the bell tower yesterday and it was just with pencils and it was perfect! It looked like one of those old-timey pictures.”

“We read your comic at lunch sometimes,” added Rosa, who sat a few seats down from her cousin. “We just got to the part where Polaris and Astra start working together.”

“Have you gotten to the mirror incident yet?” Nell asked.

Rosa shook her head. “Not yet.”

“Let me know when you get there. That was one of my favourite chapters in the whole series.”

The conversation flowed freely throughout dinner, catching up with the goings-on at school. Abel was taking some online CAD courses for the business, and there was some discussion between the other family members on designs and techniques that they were experimenting with. Miguel mentioned briefly how he’d started reading Dante’s Inferno , which had the entire family in stitches when Benny and Manny asked how the little doggy wrote a book. Nell also got a more in-depth history of the business itself.

“I think it’s really admirable what Imelda did,” Nell said honestly. “Running a business is really difficult, and at the time, being a female entrepreneur would have been that much more challenging. Never mind being a single parent on top of that. So that she created such a successful business that has stayed in the family for so long is really incredible. Add the complication of foreign investment and multinational companies with giant factories, it must be challenging sometimes to stay competitive.”

“ Si , it is sometimes,” Miguel’s father answered with a shrug. “Much of our business is local. Most people here, they would rather be able to see and feel the thing that they are buying, so that is a benefit to us.”

“We did get that magazine placement a couple of years ago,” Gloria added. “That telenovela star. What was her name? She mentioned us in an interview and wore a pair of our boots for a photo shoot.”

“There is always a market for quality custom work,” Elena nodded. “Work that lasts. That is a legacy worth protecting. Would you like some more tamales?”

Nell leaned back in her chair and shook her head. “No, gracias. They are delicious but I am stuffed.”

“No, no, there is plenty of room left. You are so skinny! Have another.”

“You know, I think I’ve heard that from everyone at Tia Caro’s building,” Nell laughed as she accepted one more tamale. “I think she might have decided to adopt me. Ten bucks says she must be half-way through the paperwork by now.”

Elena gave a nod of approval. “Caro is a good woman. She takes care of her familia. ” It didn’t matter if they were related by blood or simply lived in her building. All were considered family. And that, to Elena was the most important thing.

How anyone at that table had any room for cookies after that meal, Nell had no idea. But somehow they did, and managed to empty the tray in record time.

“Have you figured out the plot yet for your new comic?” Miguel asked as he and Rosa started clearing up the dishes.

“Part of it,” Nell answered. “I was working on some of the background and lore this morning. The story is going to center around a cursed guitar.”

Miguel paused, setting down the plates that he had been stacking, memories of her inquiries about is own guitar immediately springing to mind. “How did it get cursed?”

She hesitated for a moment. As much as she really wanted to be able to use this idea for her books, she worried it might hit a little too close for Miguel. She would leave it for him to decide if he was comfortable with her continuing, or if he wanted her to write something different. So she gave a cursory explanation of the concept of the tsukumogami and how the guitar had developed a spirit of its own. “And what the guitar wants is to finally see justice done for its murdered owner, and to be played again by someone who is worthy.”

“Cool!” Rosa declared. “Who killed him?”

“No spoilers,” Nell grinned at her. “But if you guys want I can show you some of the concept art I’ve got later.”

Miguel hesitated, not entirely sure how he felt about the idea. On the one hand, it was a little weird knowing that part of his family’s history, even a small part, was going to be used in a book. But if there was anyone that he trusted to do it respectfully, it was Nell. He’d caught the look she gave him when she explained her idea and knew that she would not proceed with it without his go-ahead. And aside from that… a graphic novel series about a sentient guitar would be really, really cool.

He flashed a crooked, one-dimpled smile and nodded. “Can’t wait!”

When Miguel met with Nell that night, he knew that he was right to trust her. What she had planned did briefly allude to the history of Hector and Ernesto, but not in any way that would be recognizable to anyone but him.

In her story, the guitar was a family heirloom. The father was a brilliant musician with a poet’s heart. He and his wife had two sons. The eldest son was bold and adventurous and loved music too, though more for the attention that his talent brought him than for the music itself. The younger brother was just like his father, who loved the music for its own sake. And when the father died, it was the younger son that he gave the guitar to. But the older brother was a jealous sort, always seeing himself as second place, even though he was the oldest. He was determined to be liked, and cultivated a fine and charming manner in order to endear himself to those around him, but he could never match the simple sincerity of his younger brother. They were both talented, but when they performed together it was easy to see whose heart was really in the music. They travelled together, performed together, and all that time the older brother’s jealousy festered within him. Until one night, after a particularly bad fight and a few too many drinks, he smothered his brother in his sleep.

The death was mourned as a tragedy, a sudden failure of the heart in a time where forensic evidence and investigation barely existed. Nobody even considered the possibility of murder.

The older brother inherited the guitar by default, and did become a fairly well renowned musician on his own. He would never admit that the guitar that had become his trademark never sang as beautifully for him as it did for his father and brother. He performed until his death in 1931, when an earthquake caused the roof of the theater he was rehearsing in to collapse on top of him, burying him alive.

The guitar was salvaged from the wreckage without a scratch on it and was held in private collections until the mid-1990’s, when it was installed as part of a music history exhibit in a local museum. Stories say that sometimes, late at night, you can still hear the sad melody it plays, mourning its lost musico.

“You gotta write that,” Miguel insisted after hearing what she’d planned. “What happens next? Is that it?”

Nell laughed. “Nah, that’s more of the backstory that sets up the main plot. The main character is a paranormal investigator who heard the stories of the ghostly music, so he breaks into the museum at night. Next thing he knows he’s seeing ghosts everywhere, and the guitar quite literally seems to have a mind of its own and won’t leave him be.”

Miguel snickered. This was going to be fun.

“For real, though. You’re okay with me writing this? If you’re not comfortable with it, you’ve got to tell me. There’s no time-limit so I have all the time in the world to think up something else.”

He shook his head. “No, I like it. It’s different. And I like the guitar being the narrator. That’s kinda cool.”

Nell sighed with relief. “Okay. Okay. Cool. But like, if you ever change your mind, let me know.”

“I will,” Miguel promised.

They walked for a while longer, taking in the quiet, their path taking them past the painted gate of the Rivera house. Dante trotted companionably at their side. They’d discovered when they met up that night that the little xolo could indeed see them when they were projecting, and after spending several minutes jumping all over them, he designated himself their official companion for the evening.

“So what did you and abuelita talk about when you were touring the shop?”

“Ah, not much. Got a little more on the history of the business. Some of the process. Your abuelita is really determined to get me into a decent pair of shoes.” Nell chuckled.

Miguel snickered. “Fifty pesos says you’re in a pair if Rivera shoes by Christmas.”

“You’re on. And I’ll put my winnings towards buying my pretty new Rivera shoes after New Years.”

“Hey!” He laughed. “That’s cheating.”

“You set the rules, not me.” She reminded him. For a moment she was silent, then she spoke again. “Your abuelita is really proud of you, you know. Your whole family is. You can see it in their faces when they hear you play. I’m glad I got to meet them tonight.”

“They really like you,” Miguel told her. “And Tia Gloria really wants your cookie recipe. Benny and Manny would have eaten all of them if they could have.”

Nell laughed. “I’m glad I passed inspection. They were definitely a little concerned about me at first, not that I blame them.”

“What? Why?”

“Because it’s one thing for their fourteen year old to have adult friends among the local musicians, but it’s a little different when he’s suddenly friends with a random tourist eleven years his senior.”

She had a point. And it wasn’t like either of them could explain the particular circumstances behind them becoming friends to begin with, not without earning themselves a happy little trip to the hospital in the city for a psych evaluation.

What Nell didn’t tell him was how worried his family had been for him over the past few months. They’d known he wasn’t sleeping well, but as he refused to tell them what was going on there was nothing they could do. He’d been doing so much better since summer ended. He no longer came to the breakfast table with tired eyes, dragging his feet -- or at least, no more than any other young teenager. A question had been left unspoken of whether he had told Nell about what had been bothering him, to which she’d had to claim complete ignorance.

“Side note: I don’t know how the hell you survived that music ban,” Nell confessed, shaking her head. “I’d have completely lost my mind.” Music had always in some way been on the periphery of her life. She couldn’t imagine being cut off from it.

“I felt like I was some days,” he laughed. “And I was raised into it. Mama had to give it up when she married Papa and I don’t know how she did it.”

“People will do a lot for love. If it meant being with your Dad, it was probably a sacrifice she was willing to make.”

Miguel nodded. He’d almost made the same one before Hector and Mama Imelda had sent him back. To be able to return home and have a chance to save Hector, he’d have given up music without a moment’s regret. “Could you do it?”

“Give up music for someone?” Nell asked. “Don’t know. There’s never been someone that mattered enough that I would consider it. If it was the right person, I think I could. But then if it was the right person, I wouldn’t have to.”

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And there ends chapter 5! We met the Riveras, Nell finally got her plot sorted out, and we got to see Dante!

Next chapter will be the start of Dia de los Muertos, so buckle up buttercups because it's going to be a wild ride.

#coco #pixar coco #coco fanfiction #coco 2017 #miguel rivera #a year in the life

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bunnybbomb · 7 years ago

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Trying to Tie Loose Ends (Catharsis Continuation): Chapter 2: The First Oracle Knight

SUMMARY: With visions of his future descendants in mind, Brivere enlists Prince Sidon to help him persuade the Zora royal council to agree to an unprecedented request. The outcome of this request results in the need for a new First Knight.

(A fanfic for the Sidlink fanfic Coma Baby by @banishfics or @banishedone, a continuation of the other one I made called Catharsis)

This is a fanfiction for a fanfiction called Coma Baby by BanishedOne on AO3, and a continuation of the other one I wrote called Catharsis. If you like a grumpy Link and really well developed, deep characters and an amazing take on the political structure of the Zora Domain, then definitely check out Coma Baby! It’s a long read and still going on, but the writing and descriptions are superb and it just means more great content. This fic in particular is focused on my favorite character in the series, the OC Brivere. You don’t need to read the whole series to get what’s going on in this fic though, since a lot is explained in here.

I post memes and fics for Coma Baby on my tumblr, you can chat with me any time about anything! I also post all chapters on my AO3 account BunnyBob!

Huge thank you to my amazing beta reader Alina! Her tumblr and ff.net is @ipromiseitsnotanobsession. She actually does editing shit for a living and she is the one that makes sure these things aren’t trash, so

Disclaimer: In no way does this have any true ties or canon to Coma Baby unless stated otherwise. It’s really just an indulgence AU to feed my obsession for Brivere drama.

Brivere stood behind his prince, head bowed down, with his hands balanced the on the hilt of a silverscale longsword, its sharp point digging into the marble floor of the council hall. He usually didn’t use such an outdated posture in these meetings, but Prince Sidon had advised him to appeal to the older Zora council in order to gain a little of their favor.

Although the two of them had put a lot of thought and research into their proposition, the knowledge that Brivere could either secure or lose his request with even the smallest action kept him on edge. Luckily, he was used to suppressing such worries, and so no one was able to catch onto the pit of anxiety that gnawed at his stomach. The only noticeable trait that gave his true feelings away was how tightly he was clutching onto his longsword.

After everyone had properly bowed to King Dorephan and settled in, Prince Sidon gave Brivere the nod to raise his head and stand up straight with his hands folded behind his back. He did so after gracefully twirling his sword around himself, snapping it into the weapon strap that was wrapped around one shoulder and looped across his broad chest. The longsword was completely still, hanging off of his back. This earned him a couple of pleased nods from the council members and apostles.

“First Knight Brivere,” King Dorephan boomed. “it has come to our attention that you and my son have a request of us.”

Brivere nodded politely. “Yes, your majesty. While I am very aware that the positions we currently have in our government are traditionally passed down from our great ancestors, I find it necessary to add a new role into our roster.”

The golden knight didn’t need his future ability to predict the mutters and head shakes that immediately came after his demand. Nonetheless, it still upset him that his suggestion was already being shot down before he was even able to properly explain himself.

King Dorephan hummed thoughtfully. “What makes you believe so, Brivere?”

“As you all know, I have recently awakened my ability to see the future, which is similar to my father’s.” The council nodded, recalling the event from a few days ago. “With this, it is clear that this power is passed through blood, generation to generation. I believe it is a blessing from Hylia herself, wanting to continue her protection of our people with this gift. As a result, I would like to create the position of Oracle Knight, name courtesy of Prince Sidon.” The prince grinned at this, remembering how the two of them had playfully fought over what to call their joint creation for days in the royal records hall.

“And just what would the purpose of this position be, First Knight?” Muzu asked.

“It is similar to the First Knight position, but it has the additional responsibility of using the ability to see the future to properly advise and protect the royal family. It will be passed down generation by generation, to whichever of my descendants receives this power.”

At this, one particularly displeased council member scoffed. “We cannot defy Zora traditions! We have kept and maintained our current position roster since the beginning of our race, only picking those who are qualified.”

Prince Sidon was now the one to speak up, eager to show off how prepared the two of them were. “Actually, that is not entirely correct. If you examine these positions,” he said, holding up a scroll from the royal records hall, pointing a claw at several sections, “they have only been added within the past few centuries, when they became necessary. I would be glad to give you this scroll to examine, but rest assured that Brivere and I have already confirmed its legitimacy.”

“Even so, we cannot let the position only be passed down by blood! The only one that follows that ritual is the role of the king!” Muzu hissed. “Do you intend to create this position just to usurp power from the royal family?!”

At this, Brivere shook his head. “That is far from my intention. I only ask that the position of Oracle Knight be passed down my bloodline because that is the only way the power to see the future will flow, and that quality is necessary for this new title. If it pleases the council, you may take away as much power or pay from this status as you like, but all I ask is that you keep its duty to protect the royal family.”

The council listened, seemingly more content with that compromise. King Dorephan let the words sink in before he broke the silence. “I believe that is all the questions we have, unless anyone else is unsatisfied.” The other members shook their heads. Brivere slowly became nervous, as the council members all suddenly wore the same emotionless mask that he had. It was impossible to tell what conclusion they had come to. “In that case, you may make a closing statement before you and my son must leave for us to deliberate and come to our answer.”

Brivere nodded, quietly clearing his throat as he stepped forward. His eyes softly gazed around, trying to make direct contact with each individual council member and apostle. “I know that tradition is important, and I would never disrespect our culture and proud history. That is why I propose that we start this new custom, not starting with me, but with my late father Prion.”

The council broke out into a wave of confused murmurs as King Dorephan raised his brow. “My father used his abilities to protect and advise the king in order to help our kingdom prosper. I simply wish to pick up where he left off and protect Prince Sidon. With this, we can start a new tradition where my descendants will dedicate themselves to the royal family. I wish to create this position not to gain more power or status, but merely to pledge my bloodline’s loyalty to the royal line from now on. Whatever your decision, I am thankful for your consideration.”

With this, Prince Sidon and his First Knight Brivere bowed respectfully before turning to leave the chamber.

;

“How do you think it went?” Brivere asked as he and his prince strolled down one of the palace’s many halls.

“To be quite frank, it is difficult to tell. They all looked about as indifferent as you usually do.” Sidon teased, trying to ease his knight’s tension. His attempt failed, as Brivere looked up at him with a rare worried look in his eyes, clearly wanting to ask something. “And no, I did not use my abilities to read their emotions. You know that I never use them without the person’s clear consent unless it is an emergency.”

Brivere nodded sheepishly, ashamed that the prince had caught onto his curiosity. “I apologize, my lord, it was improper of me to expect such a thing from you. I am just thankful that you helped me with the research and construction of my argument. This never would have happened without your assistance.” Sidon chuckled at his knight’s modesty. The two of them stopped in front of one of the windows, quietly enjoying the sight of their beloved Domain sprawled out before them.

Turning to face the golden Zora, Sidon let a genuine smile stretch across his pale face. “No matter the outcome, I do not regret supporting the Oracle Knight. But are you absolutely certain that your bloodline will not feel chained to and resent the title?”

“I have already told you of the visions that I had.” Brivere said softly, not looking away from the window. “Although, I did not mention them during the hearing because I worried that the council may think that I was making them up for my own benefit. But as long as you believe me, I am confident in my decision.”

Sidon nodded and turned back to gaze at the citizens walking around, enjoying the sunny weather. “Could you tell them to me again?” he asked gently.

Brivere slightly bobbed his head up and down before closing his eyes, basking in the sunlight. “I saw myself training a young girl who looked so similar to me. She always followed around a young man who looked so similar to you. This girl could predict the future, and she used this gift to protect and serve the young man. They went everywhere together, maintaining an admirably strong bond no matter how terrible the war or how great the distance. Then, the girl was training a little boy who looked more like her, but I could still see myself in him, and he followed around another little boy who looked so much like you that it hurt.”

“I watched the same cycle repeat through generations and generations of our bloodline, the powerful bond between our families never breaking. It was obvious that my descendants didn’t despise their role. Instead, they were completely honored to have the chance to protect the person they loved for the rest of their lives. And in each of them, I saw our Domain finally at peace, continuing to thrive under your family’s rule.”

The two of them leaned against the window sill in silence, enjoying the thought of their descendants thriving within their beloved kingdom. Brivere only opened his eyes when he felt Sidon’s strong arm rope around his waist. “And did you happen to see if my future children were also yours?” the prince teased.

Brivere flushed, quickly looking around to see if anyone else was nearby. The two of them and the Hylian Champion had been in an open relationship with each other for a while now. He and Link weren’t dating, a fact that bothered Brivere for reasons he couldn’t quite explain, but were rather just friends that happened to be in love with the same prince. However, their polyamorous relationship was unheard of in Zora culture, who mated with only one person for the rest of their lives, always with a strong soul-bond. Anything else was taboo. Brivere knew this well, considering what happened with his late mother.

As a result, they decided to keep the whole thing secret for now since all of them held such high and public positions. And even though the Hylian Champion was off fighting the Calamity, the other two Zoras decided to keep their own bond a secret, not wanting to expose themselves without him.

But Sidon would always tease the golden knight, saying that if he and Link developed into something more then he would easily approve. Brivere would always ignore it in turn. There’s no way he could date a man he used to despise; their current friendship is nothing short of a miracle.

So there was no reason to push or hope for anything more and possibly ruin that.

Finding no one, Brivere eased up slightly and leaned against Sidon’s chest, angling his tail so that it wouldn’t be squished in-between them. “Admittedly, I couldn’t tell. I was more focused on watching the actions of our children rather than their actual relation to each other.” The prince hummed in response, leaning his head on top of Brivere’s as they continued to gaze at the scenery outside of the window. Neither of them had any idea of how much time had passed when they heard a guard calling their names. They quickly pulled apart from each other as he came around the corner, announcing that the council had reached their decision.

Thanking him, both Zoras ran over to the council’s chamber, stopping out of sight of the entranceway to catch their breaths and recompose themselves. Sidon was the first to straighten up, giving his knight a reassuring squeeze on the arm before turning to face the entranceway. Swallowing the anxiety that crept up his throat, Brivere followed his prince into the chamber.

When the two of them had fully entered, the council and apostles present hushed their conversations to watch the Prince and his Knight position themselves in front of the king. Brivere whipped out his sword, going back into the same position as the beginning of the last meeting. He held his head down and gripped onto the weapon until Sidon gave him the same nod, and then he spun the sword around again until it hung off of his back, buckled into the weapon strap. Although the council had already come to their decision and no amount of theatrics could change it now, Brivere figured that he may as well give them a show they wouldn’t forget.

“First Knight Brivere and my beloved son Prince Sidon.” King Dorephan said in a proud voice. “The council has agreed to create the new position and title of the Oracle Knight.”

Years of maintaining a stone-cold mask of indifference was the only thing that saved Brivere’s dignity in that moment. If it hadn’t been for his aquired muscle memory in keeping a tough, indifferent appearance, he would have jumped around and shouted with joy. One quick moment of eye contact with Prince Sidon made it easy to tell that the prince wanted to do the same, but he was much less skilled at hiding it. The wide smile that stretched across his face completely gave him away.

“However, in exchange, the Oracle Knight will have a few differences from the First Knight, in order to balance out the power and maintain the tradition of First Knight.” Brivere nodded hesitantly. Fair enough. “The First Knight will continue to be the captain of the knights, but the Oracle Knight will not. Rather, they will solely be the personal knight and advisor of their designated member of the royal line. Both knights will report to their ruler, but neither will have any formal control over the other. Each will be considered to be the same in terms of status and equal in their importance. Does this satisfy the two of you?”

They bowed in unison and said “Yes, your majesty.” Brivere then stepped forward and knelt before the council members. “I am extremely grateful to all of you for your approval. I promise that I and my future descendants will never come to make any of you regret this decision.”

“We will be holding you to that,” King Dorephan chuckled. “However, there is more to our decision. In order for us to establish this new title, we have one more addition to the role of the Oracle Knight.” Brivere and Sidon glanced up, unable to keep the confusion off of their faces.

“We will explain more in a moment, but the two of you should prepare yourselves to speak in front of the whole Domain.”

;

An announcement was made that the Prince would be giving an important speech that pertained to everyone, even the Undercity dwellers, and so every Zora in the Domain was crammed together in the large streets near the palace. That is to say that the upper class sat in more comfortable viewing areas while the Undercity Zora tried not to touch them. The streets were alive with the sounds of conversation and rumors, all of the Zora wondering what the announcement would be about. They all prayed that it wasn’t a worrying declaration of something catastrophic happening again in the Domain, such as another Water Blight spreading around.

Their patience finally paid off when the prince came into view on one of the balconies with his First Knight right beside him, as usual. As expected, complete chaos broke out at the site of their beloved Prince, the women shrieking at his handsome appearance and the Undercity Zora hollering in appreciation of his inclusive policies on class equality. The prince rode out the excitement, showing off a wide smile as he waved to the crowd. His First Knight next to him was wearing an unfamiliar but fancy choker that covered all of his upper chest and neck, but no one was paying attention to the reserved golden Zora in favor of the more popular Prince Sidon.

Eventually the prince had to hold up his hand, waiting for the excited crowd to calm down before he spoke. “Zora of the Domain!” he bellowed, making sure each word could be heard by every individual. “I must thank you all for coming on such short notice. The announcement that I will make was the result of a decision made by the council just a few moments ago, and it was important for us to get this information out as soon as possible.”

Prince Sidon paused. “In short, I am in need of a new First Knight.”

A collective gasp washed over the crowd as everyone gawked at the former First Knight who was still standing next to the prince with a blank face. Waves of rumors and conversation soon drowned out the shock as every Zora in attendance speculated how the First Knight had gotten himself removed from his position. Those in the crowd who had always ridiculed and despised Brivere grinned smugly as they watched him continue to stand there with his usual emotionally-devoid stare. They were pleased to imagine how much he was actually squirming under that cold mask of his.

Everyone silenced when the prince raised his hand again. “Just as before, I am making the position open to everyone within the Domain, no matter their bloodline or class. We will decide this with the same tournament system, which will start in a few months. For those who wish to participate, you will need to register in the Basilica within the next few weeks and undergo a mental and physical examination before gaining approval to compete. I wish the best of luck to all of you.”

The crowd cheered, Undercity Zora in particular, and Prince Sidon waited until the noise calmed before he continued. “With that being said, I am proud to ask all of you to pay attention to my new Oracle Knight, Brivere.”

The cheers quickly stopped as the crowd stared in confusion as the prince stepped aside and gestured for the golden Zora to take his place. Oracle Knight? Every Zora was required to learn about the different positions and statuses available within their government, and they had definitely never heard of that one before.

They all finally noticed the very flashy choker that covered most of Brivere’s upper body, and each Zora turned to each other to ask if anyone knew which position it signified. It was definitely fancier than the Prince’s, but there was no way that the former First Knight would suddenly have more status than him. When he opened his mouth, the crowd was almost silent, wanting to hang onto every word that he said, searching for answers.

“First off, I must apologize for the misleading way that my lord introduced me.” Brivere said, shooting a pointed glance to Prince Sidon who just smiled back sheepishly. “I was not removed from my position for any misdeeds on my part. Rather, I have just been appointed to the status of Oracle Knight. It is alright if none of you know of it, because it was created just moments ago by the royal council through my request. Put simply, in this new position, I will advise and protect the royal family, Prince Sidon in particular, with my ability to see the future.”

The crowd gawked at the Oracle Knight, the streets full of shouts of denial and shock. There was only one Zora that everyone knew of that had had that very same power, and that man was dead.

Brivere knew that he didn’t have as much respect built up as Prince Sidon, so he just waited for the crowd to quiet down. It took a while, since everyone was busy trying to wrap their tails around his words, but eventually they calmed down enough for his voice to be heard again.

“Some of you in the crowd are aware of the controversy that has surrounded my lineage ever since my birth. However, I am not here to discuss that or to explain every single rumor to all of you. To make a long story short, I have been confirmed to be the son of Prion, and this choker is the same that he wore.”

To an outsider, one would have thought that the Calamity had struck the Zora Domain once more. The streets shook in complete chaos as everyone began shouting and clamoring for answers. Those who had never known Brivere were completely blindsided by the fact that the late First Knight Prion, a decorated war hero that they all celebrated even to this day, had had a hidden son for so long. And those who did know Brivere either felt embarrassment for being wrong or felt nothing but rage and disbelief.

Several guards had to be dispatched in order to hold back the wild crowd. Prince Sidon threw his arms around as he shouted for everyone to calm down while Brivere reflexively held a battle stance in front of the prince, trying to hold him back from the chaos. The mayhem below nearly drowned out the approaching footsteps of King Dorephan as he walked to the balcony.

“Silence!” the king bellowed, his voice nearly knocking over every Zora in attendance. Instantly, the streets were quiet once more, almost as if the Calamity had killed them all in a heartbeat. “While the shock of these new decisions and discoveries are natural, it is no excuse to treat our speaker with such disrespect. We will release more detailed information about everything later but, for now, I swear to you, my beloved citizens, that we are absolutely certain that Brivere is the son of Prion.”

The crowd let his words sink in, only somewhat satisfied. King Dorephan let out a huff, turning to Brivere who had somehow went through all of the chaos with a straight face. “Please continue, Oracle Knight.”

Brivere nodded and walked back out to the front of the balcony. “I did not come here solely to speak of my new position or to confirm my parentage.” he began. “I must also talk of the additional position that the council has attached to mine: the Holy Knight. It is simply a personal knight and assistant to the Oracle Knight.”

“Similar to the First Knight, the position will be open to everyone, regardless of class or family name. Unlike Prince Sidon’s tournament, however, the winner will not be decided solely on raw strength alone.” Brivere explained. “A series of trials will he held to test for intelligence and a sharp mind. The final stage will be different, but its content will not be revealed until ten people remain. Those who wish to participate will gather in the records hall at dawn 3 months from today.”

“I advise anyone who considers joining to study as much as you can, particularly government politics, but unfortunately, I cannot give any other advice than that.” With this, Brivere bowed. “Thank you all for your time.”

He was about to turn to retreat back into the palace, but he hesitated, clearly sensing something. His body visibly locked up for a moment before he spoke again. “I am aware that many of you may be wondering why we are bothering to hold these trials and tournaments if I could just use my ability to already select the winners.” Everyone in the crowd stared back, dumbfounded.

Brivere quickly tried to explain himself. “Admittedly, I just had a short vision of many of you asking me that very question or disregarding the competitions altogether. However, I encourage you all to try. The future is always subject to change based on your actions, so do not believe that you have no chance. You will only fail if you do not try.”

At this, Brivere paused, and suddenly his golden eyes shifted off to the side. It was clear that he was staring at someone in particular. “Good luck to all of you,” he blurted out, shifting his gaze back before the crowd could determine who he was looking at. “I look forward to working with the winner.” With this, he quickly turned to go back to Prince Sidon’s side, and the two of them followed behind King Dorephan to disappear back into the palace.

;

With the announcements finished, the crowd began to disperse, loudly talking amongst themselves about the shocking news of not only the discovery of Prion’s lost son but also the rare addition of two new titles. Undercity Zora were absolutely ecstatic, boasting about how they were going to prepare for Prince Sidon’s tournament or the Oracle Knight’s trials as they swam back down to their homes. Uppercity Zora complained about the Undercity Zora’s excitement, confident that none of them would win against the elite class. But no matter where they were from, gossip began to flow between every Zora about the day’s new discoveries.

Estuu watched it all from the tall rock that he was perched on. He had been listening to the announcements from this height, wanting to avoid getting smothered in the rambunctious crowd that had filled out the streets earlier.

Admittedly, when everyone had burst into complete havoc at the announcement of Brivere being Prion’s son, Estuu had had a bit of a meltdown. He had covered his ears and whined, his tail wildly smacking against his back. King Dorephan’s loud voice had almost sent him over the edge, but his older brother’s familiar tone had brought him back.

Estuu didn’t quite understand why his brother had looked at him like that around the end of his speech. Part of him knew that it was because the overprotective Zora was worried about him, but the other part argued that there was something else in his older brother’s gaze. But Estuu quickly shook the strange feeling off, knowing that he had something else more pressing to attend to.

When the crowd had mostly disappeared, save for the usual residents who lingered in the streets to talk to their neighbors, Estuu carefully climbed down from the rock with his one functioning hand. He quickly scurried through the streets towards the library.

If he made it in time, he could still rent out enough books to study for the Holy Knight trials.

#sidon #prince sidon #botw #breath of the wild #loz #legend of zelda #coma baby #brivere #estuu #link #fic for a fic #ao3 #banishedone #banishedfics #trying to tie loose ends #catharsis #tttle

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