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sasaranomiya · 2 years ago

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Koukyuu no Karasu Volume 3 Chapter 1 - A Rainy Night’s Visit (Part 1)

I’m back guys~~! This is the volume where a bunch of new characters are introduced and we start the overarching plot of the series.

Translation Notes

1. Banka is written with the characters 晚霞 which means “evening glow,” while Chouyou’s name is written with the characters 朝陽 which means “morning sun.”

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At the deep, deep bottom of the sea, stretched out in the silence of the night, I am always waiting.

In the dead of night, Ishiha woke up. He quietly rose from his bed so as to not make any sound. He felt like he just had a bad dream. It was because his throat was dry. The rain he had been hearing before he fell asleep had already stopped, but the damp scent of rain that was characteristic of the end of a shower drifted in the air.

――It’s different from the scent of the sea.

It was different from the smell of the tide, mixed in with that somewhat fishy smell, that clung to his skin. Ishiha hugged his knees on his bed. He hated waking up in the middle of the night. That was when he was the loneliest and the saddest. Memories of his hometown and of the time when he was made into a eunuch swirled around in his head, making his chest squeeze tight. He was having trouble breathing and he pressed his forehead against his knees. He choked back a sob.

“…You can’t sleep?”

He heard Onkei’s voice in the darkness. He felt him getting up in the bed next to his. Ishiha shared a room in Yamei Palace with his senior, Onkei. He hastily apologized.

“I’m sorry, I woke you up.”

It was dark, so his tear-stained face couldn’t be seen, but he sounded nasal. He could feel Onkei staring at him. Onkei slipped off his bed and left the room. Just as Ishiha was panicking, wondering if he had irritated him, Onkei immediately returned.

He was holding up a candlestick. His face emerged from the darkness with the flickering flames of the candle.

“Here.”

Onkei held out a cup. It was filled with water. He seemed to have drawn it from the water jug in the kitchen. “You must be thirsty.”

“Y…yes. Thank you very much.”

Ishiha drank the water, wondering how did he know. His parched throat now quenched, he let out a sigh of relief.

“Everyone has nightmares for a while after they become a eunuch.”

That was all Onkei said in his quiet voice. He was a beautiful man, but there was an unapproachable coldness in his appearance that made Ishiha too nervous to approach him. However, the gentle smile that sometimes appeared on his lips told him that he was a warm person at heart.

“Mr. Onkei, was it like that for you as well?”

There was no answer to that question. Onkei blew out the candle and darkness returned to the room. The faint wisp of smoke from the blown-out flame faded quickly. The smell of smoke and water mingled together. There was the sound of Onkei crawling into his bed, and Ishiha laid down as well. The water that soothed his throat slowly seeped into his chest and loosened his stiffened heart. His eyelids naturally drooped, and he was lulled to sleep as though rocked by the waves. In the waves, the image of his hometown floated and disappeared. His parents, the village elders. The fireside on stormy days, the sound of the wind beating at the window, and the starry sky after the storm had passed, like silver sand scattered across the sky. The elders’ tales. The islands born from the chopped-up god. The lost souls blown into the cove. The one or two new lives raining down from the river of stars. He wondered if the baby born next door was growing up healthy. He wondered how his siblings were doing. How was his childhood friend, Ayura, doing——

It seemed that the rain had stopped. Jusetsu turned her attention to the latticed window. Late at night, beyond the lattice, all she could see was a deep indigo darkness. Water was seeping into the darkness. When the rainy season began, there would be large downpours of rain all at once, but they didn’t last long. After the rain, the soil, greenery, and even the darkness became fresh, as if they had come back to life. The scent of life was strong. Jusetsu didn’t care for this time of the year. No, it might be Wulian Niangniang who didn’t like it. She didn’t know. Jusetsu looked at the table. What she had been looking at until then was placed there. It was a necklace of two strands of black pearls. A delicate rainbow pattern played on the jet-black surface in the light.

These black pearls were the feathers left behind by the “Owl.” The remains of what was once Shougetsu, who was created by the Owl. Shougetsu had turned into feathers and disappeared, but Jusetsu had gathered those feathers and stuffed them into a hemp sack. They turned into black pearls overnight. She asked the Directorate for Imperial Manufactories to string them into a necklace.

We were born from sea foam—that was what the Owl had said. Was that why his feathers turned into pearls? Jusetsu let out a sigh, placed the pearls in a mother-of-pearl box, and put it in the cupboard. It wasn’t as though she would know the answer just by staring at it.

Jusetsu no longer knew who she was. Was she the Raven, was she “Jusetsu,” or was she a mixture of both? The Raven came here from the distant Kakurenomiya. This was the taboo island where gods who committed crimes drifted to. The Raven was trapped in Jusetsu so that she couldn’t escape. Just as the Owl made the doll called Shougetsu, Jusetsu was a vessel for confining the Raven. If she was shattered, would her body turn into feathers and become pearls as well?

Jusetsu let out a small laugh. At night, when she had her attendant Jiujiu retire for the night and was left alone, an unbearable emptiness began to take root in her chest. Loneliness could be endured. However, emptiness ate into her heart little by little. Right now, she wasn’t being swallowed up by it because Jiujiu and the others were here with her. Even if she was disobeying Reijou’s words in the process.

Xingxing, who had rested its wings at Jusetsu’s feet, raised its head. Jusetsu looked back at the door. Xingxing spread its wings and made a fuss. Jusetsu gently flicked her hand and opened the doors. It was a visitor who had come to ask for a favor from the Raven Consort.

Now, she could understand painfully why the Raven Consorts had accepted the requests of the people of the inner palace until now. They wanted to be connected to people. As they weren’t even sure of their own minds, if they couldn’t rely on anyone, they would at least like to be useful to someone and have a connection with others, even if it was just a thin thread.

“L-Lady Raven Consort. I have a matter I wish for you to…”

Before she could speak, the doors opened, and the flustered palace lady falteringly said this.

“You may enter.”

Jusetsu sat down in a chair. The palace lady also sat across from her while looking around nervously. Judging from her appearance, she seemed to be an attendant of some palace. Her ruqun was of fine silk, and her sash was adorned with an ornament of white coral with a violet-colored decorative cord.

“I am the Crane Consort’s attendant at Hakkaku Palace. My family name is Ki, and my given name is Senjo.”

The attendant introduced herself. She was a thin woman with a slender and pale face. Her hands were tightly clasped together in front of her chest, and her body was trembling slightly.

“What is your business here?”

When Jusetsu asked her that, Senjo took a deep breath. Hesitant to speak, her gaze wandered, then she looked at Jusetsu with imploring eyes.

“A ghost has been visiting me.”

Senjo’s nails were digging into her clasped hands. She closed her eyes and repeatedly exhaled and inhaled, perhaps to calm herself. She touched the white coral hanging from her sash, and as she stroked it, her breathing finally evened, and she spoke again.

“…The ghost only comes on rainy nights. It comes to the door of my room. It doesn’t even knock on my door, much less come in. How do I know that a ghost is visiting me? I hear its footsteps. Footsteps walking in the rain. It walks steadily and stops in front of my door. When the rain stops, its presence disappears. There is a puddle in front of the door. It cannot be a person. A few times, I couldn’t help but peer through the lattice window. I see a black shadow there. But I can’t make out its appearance. It’s right there, but I can’t see it. Only its feet in long boots are visible. All that I can see other than that is water dripping from its clothing. No matter how hard I look, its face is indistinguishable, as if it’s covered in shadows.”

After speaking with a trembling voice, Senjo let out a deep breath. Her shoulders were heaving. While she was talking, even now, she was stroking the white coral frequently. It seemed that she couldn’t calm down unless she was fiddling with something. Jusetsu got the impression that she was high-strung, but that might be because she was haunted by a ghost. Her almond eyes, which would be charming otherwise, were red.

Jusetsu peered at her face, and then spoke.

“When did this begin happening?”

“It began on the first rainy night on my journey from my hometown to here.”

“It didn’t start after you came to Hakkaku Palace?”

“Yes. I have always been an attendant of the Saname clan—”

“Saname clan?”

“It is Lady Banka’s family. Do you not know it?”

“I know not. Who is Banka?”

Senjo’s eyes widened in surprise. Perhaps remembering that the Raven Consort was someone isolated from society, she cast down her eyes and said, “I beg your pardon.”

“The Saname clan is a wealthy family from Ga Province. They are a clan that migrated from the country of Kakami a long time ago, and they were once feudal lords who governed the whole of Ga Province, but now they have stepped away from government and are a powerful family with a large number of manors. Ga Province is a rich land, and the Saname clan is in no way inferior to that of a great merchant.”

Jusetsu recalled hearing that the Crane Consort’s family was wealthy when she visited Hakkaku Palace before.

“This Banka is the Crane Consort, yes?”

“That is correct, Lady Raven Consort.”

“Despite her family name sounding foreign, her given name is in the Shou-style.”

“Lady Banka’s name was given to her by His Majesty when she entered the inner palace. Since long ago, the Saname clan has never revealed their true names to others. Since the head of the Saname clan, Lady Banka’s father, calls himself Chouyou, His Majesty gave Lady Banka her name to match him.” (1)

“I see, afterglow, huh.”

It was a stylish name. That man could do something so elegant? Jusetsu thought of Koushun’s face, which always lacked expression.

“Master Chouyou was also very happy. And—um…”

Her face said, What were we talking about again?

“We were talking about when the ghost appeared. You said that it was after you left your hometown, and you have been an attendant of the Saname clan for a long time.”

“Yes, that was the case. So, nothing happened when I was with the Saname clan in Ga Province. When it was decided that Lady Banka was to be married to His Majesty, on the way from Ga Province to the capital, there was a night when it rained, and that was when it started. It happened when we were staying at an inn.”

Seeming to recall that time, Senjo trembled.

“Even after the rain stopped and the ghost disappeared, I couldn’t sleep for the whole night. Even now, when it starts to rain after dark, I’m out of my mind terrified. Tonight as well—”

“It was raining just now, was it not?”

Senjo nodded while trembling.

“After I confirmed the rain had stopped and the ghost had left, I couldn’t bear it any longer and came here. I have no other choice but to rely on you, Lady Raven Consort.”

“Do you wish for me to drive away the ghost?”

“Yes. Please fulfill my request. I will prepare compensation for you, so please—”

Jusetsu thought about it for a moment. A ghost that only appears on rainy nights—?

“…I’m quite curious.”

“Eh?”

“The fact that it doesn’t come through your door weighs on my mind. You say that it only stands there and does nothing?”

“Yes, but,” Senjo was about to protest, but Jusetsu held up her hand to stop her.

“On the other hand, I am also concerned about the fact that it is following you. It seems that it isn’t a ghost that has settled down in the inner palace.”

Senjo paled at the words “following you.”

“I wish to investigate where the ghost appears. Tomorrow, I shall visit your room. And then—”

Jusetsu stood up and brought over a piece of hemp paper from the cabinet.

“’Tis merely for peace of mind, but I’ll give you this amulet. It is for protection. It’s the type of thing that sorcerers walk around giving out, but weak ghosts will not come near you with this.”

Senjo gratefully accepted the amulet, which had strange characters written on it in ink.

“Do you not have any clue as to the identity of that ghost?”

At Jusetsu’s question, Senjo hesitated for a moment, then shook her head. “No.” She hugged the amulet against her chest and quickly left the pitch-black palace.

Jiujiu was always noisy in the morning. She talked incessantly while bringing in the water basin for washing her face or while getting breakfast ready. It was like the chirping of a little bird. She rambled on about things like how it wouldn’t rain today because winter wrens were flying high in the sky, or how it was good weather for laundry, or how the rice cakes in the kitchen had mold on them.

“In my hometown, they say that if the Fishing Star looks hazy, then it’s going to rain,” Ishiha said as he helped prepare breakfast.

“They don’t say that around here. We don’t have the custom of looking up at the night sky because they close the doors at night.”

Ishiha’s hometown was a small fishing village. For those who made their living by fishing, the stars were an important guidepost for finding directions.

“For us, it’s very important to know where the stars are and when they appear.”

“Then, your tribe isn’t afraid of the night, then? They say that Yeyoushen appears at night.”

“No, we’re afraid of Yeyoushen. That’s why we wear charms against our skin and don’t go fishing on starless nights. We’re afraid of monsters coming out of the waves and dragging our boats down to the bottom of the sea on dark nights.”

It was very interesting to hear about Ishiha’s hometown, which was very different from this area. Jusetsu had never actually seen the sea with her own eyes. The exception was through the eyes of the Raven who slipped out of the inner palace on nights of the new moon.

“The sea must be a terrifying thing.”

Jusetsu murmured as she scooped up her porridge with a spoon. Ishiha laughed brightly. His tanned skin wrinkled tightly.

“It’s scary, but it’s also warm. It’s like a cradle.”

“A cradle?”

“The waves. They come and go, like a very big cradle,” Ishiha gestured like he was rocking a cradle. “Besides, they tell us that you have to be afraid. Otherwise, people will underestimate the sea. We should be afraid of it.”

“Did your village elders tell you that?”

“Yes. They taught us a lot about the sea and the stars.”

Jusetsu supposed that it was similar to what Reijou was like to her. She blew on her scooped-up porridge to cool it. The congee with snow fungus and dried day lilies was so hot that it would burn her throat if she didn’t cool it down enough. It would be nice if they could serve it a little cooler, but the old servant Keishi would never allow it. She always said that food must be served when it was hot because it would quickly get colder and colder. She finally put the cooled porridge into her mouth. The crispy snow fungus was one of Jusetsu’s favorites. The pine nuts sprinkled on top of the porridge were fragrant and nourishing. In Keishi’s mind, Jusetsu would always remain a small, underfed child, and she still only prepared nourishing food for her.

“Niangniang, what are your plans for today?”

Jiujiu asked. Usually, her answer was “nothing in particular,” but today was different.

“I’m going to Hakkaku Palace.”

“Oh, you’re going out? It’s been a while,” Jiujiu suddenly sounded excited. “Then, this is a good opportunity for you to wear the clothing that was given to you by Hua Niangniang recently. The pale purple raw silk robe and peach-colored skirt…the crystal hairpin will do.”

She spoke like a full-fledged attendant. “I don’t need to dress up so excessively,” Jusetsu reminded her, but the exuberant Jiujiu wasn’t listening. Since she seemed to be in a good mood, Jusetsu thought, Oh well, and gave up. Jiujiu liked dressing up Jusetsu. According to her, it was boring how Jusetsu usually dressed in black.

As soon as she finished breakfast, she was made to change clothes. The colorful clothing was a gift from Hua Niangniang—the Duck Consort, Un Kajou. Kajou wanted to take care of Jusetsu as if she were her younger sister. She often had garments tailored and sent to her even though she said she didn’t want them, and Jusetsu, unable to ignore them, reluctantly accepted the gifts. Why did those around her never listened to her?

Jiujiu kept changing the sash and hairpins, taking on the task of changing her clothes until she was satisfied. Jusetsu simply stood there. She kept silent, because it would only prolong the process if she interfered. “Are we finished?” Jusetsu asked Jiujiu, satisfied with the pale red crystal hairpin and the dangling gold hairpins. “I believe so,” Jiujiu nodded with an air of importance. Kougyou, who was helping with Jusetsu’s change of clothes behind her, had her shoulders shaking with amusement.

Leaving the care of Xingxing to Ishiha, Jusetsu left Yamei Palace with Jiujiu. For some reason, the usually-difficult Xingxing had taken a liking to Ishiha and became attached to him. Xingxing—didn’t the Owl call it Harara? Could that be its real name? As Jusetsu passed through the woods surrounding Yamei Palace, she looked up at the treetops. With a cry of “gah,” a bird landed there. Brown wings with white spots. It was the spotted woodpecker. She thought that bird had also disappeared when Shougetsu scattered into feathers, but it was living in this forest.

――Didn’t he say that this bird is a tsukaibe?

Was that why it was staying here? Nothing could be gleaned from the eyes of the woodpecker—Sumaru.

They went through the woods and headed north of the inner palace. Onkei, who was Jusetsu’s bodyguard, was most likely watching over her from somewhere in the shadows. That was why she was walking without much caution. Within the inner palace, it was filled with trees, blooming flowers, waterways, and sturdy mud walls. The tiled roofs of the palaces looked like waves as they reflected the sunlight. Just as Jiujiu said, it didn’t look like it would rain today. Senjo must be relieved as well.

“What business do you have at Hakkaku Palace?”

Jiujiu asked as they walked down the alley between the mud walls.

“I received a request.”

“Ah, so a visitor did come last night. You slept until quite late this morning, so I wondered if that was the case,” Jiujiu pouted a little, like she was sulking. “That’s why I always asked you to let me stay up until much later.”

“One never knows when visitors like that will come. It is useless to stay up late for them. You and the others have to wake up early in the morning.”

“But…”

Jiujiu didn’t look happy. Jusetsu would lose if they continued this quarrel, so she changed the topic.

“Do you know the consort of Hakkaku Palace?”

“Was it the Crane Consort who visited last night? No, I’ve never met her.”

“It was the Crane Consort’s attendant. Even if you’ve never met her, do you know anything about her?”

Jiujiu tilted her head.

“I don’t really know much. Hakkaku Palace doesn’t have a very high rank within the inner palace, and it’s located on the outskirts. Rumors about it don’t reach this far. I believe she is a princess of Ga province. I heard that she is the youngest daughter of an old and powerful family, and that she is a generous person without the primness of a rich young lady.”

Jusetsu also heard that she was very generous in giving away fabrics and hairpins before. Senjo had also been wearing fine clothing.

“There’s talk that since the position of Magpie Consort is now empty, the Crane Consort or Swallow Mistress might be promoted. If anything, it seems more likely that the Swallow Mistress——”

“…”

Jusetsu still felt depressed when she thought about the Magpie Consort. The image of her blood splattering as her throat was bitten open flashed through her mind.

Jiujiu, who seemed to have sensed Jusetsu’s feelings, changed the subject in a panic.

“Oh, Niangniang. By the way, we have the peaches that His Majesty gifted us the other day. I’ll peel them for you when we return to Yamei Palace.”

“I can peel a peach by myself.”

“But your hands will get all sticky. Ishiha makes quite a mess of himself, getting the juices all over his face.”

“He is a child, so it can’t be helped.”

Jusetsu let out a soft laugh. Ishiha wasn’t accustomed to eating fruit, so he always made a big mess. It was quite adorable to see his mouth sticky with fruit juices.

A hedge of juniper trees came into view. It was Hakkaku Palace. There were crane ornaments on the roof tiles. Jusetsu went around to the back entrance. When she came here before, she also entered from there. Just as before, there were palace ladies drying clothes nearby. There was a palace lady who remembered Jusetsu and had a look of “Oh?” Jusetsu called out to her.

“There is an attendant I would like you to call for me.”

“Aren’t you an attendant of Yamei Palace?” She tilted her head in confusion. “But you aren’t dressed like an attendant today.”

It would be bothersome to explain, so Jusetsu didn’t answer her question. “Call an attendant named Ki Senjo here. She’ll understand if you say it’s someone from Yamei Palace.” However, before the palace lady could leave, there was the sound of running footsteps.

“Lady Raven Consort,” it was Senjo. “I’ve been waiting for you. I didn’t expect you to come from the back entrance.”

Apparently, she had been waiting for at the front gate. Looking between Senjo, who was out of breath, and Jusetsu, who was called the Raven Consort, the palace lady’s eyes widened. The palace ladies drying the clothes at the back were whispering to each other about something. There was awe in their eyes. It was the fear directed towards the Raven Consort, who lived quietly in a jet-black palace, darker than the darkness of night, deep within the inner palace, and took on any request from searching for lost things to curse killings. Jusetsu glanced at one of them, sensing something different in her gaze. Standing a short distance away, a palace lady was staring at Jusetsu. There was no fear in her eyes. That said, she didn’t know how to describe it. It was neither friendly nor hateful. It was, dare she say it, something like earnestness. Did she have a request for the Raven Consort?

“Lady Raven Consort, please come this way.”

Led by Senjo, they headed for the palace. They were guided to a palace next to the consort’s residence in the center. It was the residence of many attendants. Across the courtyard was the building used by the emperor when he visited. Double-layered gardenias were blooming in the courtyard. The white flowers were as vivid and distinct as summer clouds, and their fragrance was strong. Their whiteness and scent would be recognizable even in the middle of the night.

“Apparently, peonies used to be planted here,” Senjo explained after following Jusetsu’s gaze. “I heard that His Majesty ordered the garden to be reconstructed. He must be pained by the memory of his mother.”

Koushun’s mother was the previous emperor’s Crane Consort. “I see,” was all Jusetsu said, and she looked away from the garden.

Senjo’s room was in a corner of the palace. It had a door and lattice window facing the outer corridor. When Jusetsu entered the room she saw that there was also a door and window at the back, and guessed that the ghost came from that side. She tried opening that door and going outside. The back was poorly lit, shadowed and cool. It was even darker because of the trees planted there. Beneath the shade of the leaves, Jusetsu stared closely at the ground. This was where the ghost was standing.

―There is certainly indications here.

The faint remaining presence of a ghost.

――But, this is…

“How is everything, Lady Raven Consort?”

Senjo timidly asked from inside the room. Jusetsu turned around.

“There is no doubt that there is a ghost coming here.”

Senjo paled and pressed her hand to her chest. Jusetsu took a step back and pulled out a peony from her hair. She blew on it. The flower instantly turned into smoke and spread like a thin curtain as it wavered. Soon, the figure of a person began to appear beyond the smoke. It was indistinct at first, but gradually became clear. Its contours took distinct form, and vacant eyes and slightly opened lips emerged. Bloodless, pale lips. The ashen face belonged to a man in his twenties with a dishevelled topknot. Loose strands of hair fell over his forehead, and there was no light in his sunken eye sockets. There was the sound of water dripping. A puddle was created at his feet. No, it wasn’t water. It was red. Something red was dripping from the hem of the man’s robes. It was blood. His body was slashed from the base of his neck to his chest. Fresh blood poured down from his neck unceasingly. His blood stained his clothes and dripped onto the ground.

Senjo collapsed onto the floor with a sharp, shrill scream. Jusetsu blew on the smoke and the man disappeared. She rushed over to Senjo and was relieved to find that she hadn’t fainted. She and Jiujiu helped her to a couch.

“That was Saku Hashuu.”

Senjo said with a pale face. Her voice was trembling and shrill. Her breathing was erratic, so Jusetsu rubbed her back to encourage her to take deep breaths. After taking two or three deep breaths, Senjo’s complexion improved considerably. She squeezed the white coral hanging from her sash.

“…That ghost just now was named Saku Hashuu.”

Senjo said after drinking some water brought by a palace lady and calming down. Her voice was still trembling.

“Was he an acquaintance?”

“Hashuu was my fiancé. We lived in the same neighborhood, and we had been friends since childhood…even though it was called a betrothal, it wasn’t so formal that we didn’t even know each other’s faces until the bride’s veil is lifted at the ceremony, but rather a relationship where we knew each other well,” Senjo spoke softly, sometimes at a loss for words. “In our region, we have a tradition of paying a visit to the shrine of the local god before getting married. Three years ago, we went to visit the shrine. I was accompanied by my mother and a servant, and Hashuu was accompanied by his parents and a servant. It takes two full days to get to the shrine on the mountain and back, so it was a bit of a sightseeing trip. Pilgrims would dismount from their horses at the foot of the mountain, and from there they either ascend on foot or by palanquin. Hashuu was a good walker, but everyone else were women or elderly, so we had to go by palanquin. That was a mistake.”

Senjo sighed with deep regret.

“Starting from the first palanquin, Hashuu’s parents, my mother, and I rode in that order, and the servants followed Hashuu’s parents and my mother on foot. Hashuu accompanied my palanquin on foot, and since it was a mountain road, the palanquin bearers walked slowly and without haste. We proceeded without issue in this way for a while, but then it began to rain. The rain was getting heavier and heavier, and I could no longer see the palanquin in front of me, but it seemed that only the palanquin I was riding in was falling farther and farther behind. Hashuu became suspicious and urged the bearers to go faster, but the two bearers only gave vague replies and made little progress. I had heard that some bearers were miscreants who would threaten customers with exorbitant prices or even mug them, I had never imagined that I myself would cross paths with such wicked bearers. When we were picking bearers, we picked young men who looked as simple and honest as possible. They decided that it would be easier for them to attack me and Hashuu, who were unaccompanied by escorts. In the rain, they finally bared their fangs. They abandoned the palanquin and pointed knives at us, demanding money and goods. If that was all, Hashuu might have obeyed them for the time being. But they were also trying to kidnap me. Because of that, he——”

Resisted.

“Hashuu held the bearers back and told me to run. He told me to follow my mother’s palanquin and ask for help, and he wouldn’t be far behind. I ran. I fell many times because my feet got stuck in the wet ground. I had never hated the rain so much as I did during that time. By the time I returned after calling for help, Hashuu was already…”

Senjo couldn’t get the words out. She took a breath and then said in a hoarse voice, he was already dead.

The bearers had fled the scene, but they were soon caught by the police. Since they mugged and murdered someone, they were of course sentenced to death. They had already been executed.

“…If Hashuu hadn’t let me escape during that time, I don’t know what would have happened to me. I can’t believe that he…didn’t cross over to paradise and wanders around as a ghost…”

Senjo covered her face with her sleeve. However, it wasn’t unusual that he would become a ghost if he was killed. Jusetsu wondered if Senjo had vaguely foreseen this. Last night, when she asked Senjo if she knew anything about the ghost, she had hesitated in her answer. She probably didn’t want to consider it, her betrothed becoming a ghost.

But, that ghost…

Jusetsu turned to the door again and looked outside.

“The ghost didn’t appear when you were still in your hometown, yes? Also, he doesn’t come in through the door.”

Senjo turned around. “Yes,” she answered and nodded.

“One thing is certain,” Jusetsu pointed at the door. “That ghost is what we call a tsukaibe.”

Senjo tilted her head. “A tsukaibe…?”

“Someone has set him to work and sent him to you. To put it simply, he’s being used as a tool. As a tool of a curse.”

Senjo’s eyes widened. “A…a curse?”

“The traces of sorcery are immediately recognizable. But I know not the curser or their goal. There’s no meaning in a sluggish curse where the ghost is simply standing outside a room only on rainy nights without haunting its target to death. I don’t understand their intentions.”

Jusetsu frowned.

At this stage, I can only think that they simply want to scare Senjo.

“Returning a curse is easy. However, it’s not wise to return a curse without a clear idea of the other side’s intentions. This level of curse will not kill the curser even you return it. Rather, by returning it, they might even cast a new curse on you. Do you have any idea who is likely to curse you?”

Senjo shook her head vigorously.

“Then, I’ll have to investigate a little more now.”

“Investigate…what do you mean by that?”

“The people around you.”

“Haa…” Senjo looked worried. “Are you saying that someone I know has cast this curse on me?”

“A curse wouldn’t be put on you if the person had nothing to do with you. In fact, it would be easier to find you if they did.”

Senjo ducked her head and looked around.

“What…what should I do?”

“Think carefully about whether there is any reason someone would cast a curse on you, or anyone around you who can cast curses.”

“Yes…” Senjo nodded nervously.

“For now, I’ll put a ward around your room. It seems that the ghost doesn’t enter your room for now, but this is just in case he tries to enter.”

Okay, Senjo pressed her hands to her chest, looking a little relieved. Jusetsu took out a shaft with thread wound around it from her pocket. She unwound the thread and circled the room with it, from corner to corner.

“…This technique was originally used by sorcerers. My arts aren’t suited for delicate work.”

Jusetsu muttered as she unspooled the thread across the floor. The principle was the same as the barrier that was previously used on the Jakusou Palace pond. The arts of sorcerers and the Raven Consort were similar yet different, different yet similar. Were they originally the same, or were they completely different—?

Jusetsu tied the ends of the thread in front of the door.

“This will do,” she said and stood up. Senjo thanked her profusely. “This is not a fundamental solution, though.”

“No,” Senjo shook her head at Jusetsu, who was bewildered by her gratitude. “I can sleep peacefully knowing that no one will come in.”

“…I see.”

Jusetsu studied her pale face.

What good would it do to curse such a frail, powerless woman?

She couldn’t figure out the curser’s goal. Curses were more or less magic that placed a burden on oneself. If it was returned to you, it could kill you, depending on the degree of the curse, and the greater the power of the returner, the greater the danger. It wasn’t something with much benefit.

Is the curser a sorcerer who’s this confident that the curse can’t be broken?

However, if that was the case, she didn’t understand the point of aiming for a mere attendant like Senjo. It would be different if it was someone with status like Koushun.

The more Jusetsu pondered it, the deeper the wrinkles between her brow became.

I sense something troublesome.

These kinds of hunches were usually right.

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#koukyuu no karasu #koukyuu no karasu 3 #shirakawa kouko #translations

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aggimaginary · 2 years ago

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The Bad Guys season 1: Our Own Story (chapter 22) - The Secret (Troubled) Life of Mr. Hornet

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Hi guys! Sorry, it took me a while. I was busy at school, but I got a chance to make the final touch on this chapter. I hope you'll enjoy this because this is a flashback chapter, centralizing Mr. Hornet in one of his troubled pasts before he met the Bad Guys

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Intro

Mr. Wolf: Yeah! I'm bad!

Mr. Snake: You're bad!

Ms. Tarantula: He's bad!

Mr. Hornet: She's bad!

Mr. Piranha: We're bad!

Mr. Shark: Who's bad?

The Bad Guys: Yeah! We're the Bad Guys!

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4 years ago

It's been months since Hornet was left by his own colony. He was now all alone, all by himself, in his own hive, which would be rotten soon when winter is over. Winter is coming, and the breeze is getting colder. Hornet was still outside the tree of his hive, where he was devastated by the departure of his colony, his supposed nephews and nieces, but they left him. They all left him to die. He stayed on that rock for days, waiting for his end. But he was still alone. Not even predators wanted to eat him. Great! Even predators disliked him. He stayed on the rock, hoping for his colony to return. He thought they just forgot him, and might return to retrieve him.

Weeks passed by, and Winter came. Hornet experienced his first snowflake. When he touched it, it was really cold, and he couldn't handle it as cold as a snowflake. More snowflakes flew down above him. He quickly flew back into the tree where his hive was, and stayed there to keep himself warm.

Hornet curled up into a small ball that fit himself into the comb where he was hatched, hopefully, the comb around him would keep him warm for the winter. While he was inside the comb, he could see the hole of the hive as he could hear the wind from outside and felt the coldness of winter coming. Hornet then suddenly cried as he finally accepted the fact, "What am I even doing here? Why should I keep hoping they will come back?" He started to punch his fist on the walls of his comb, "They'll never come back for me. They hated me. They always do. Why didn't I die yet? I just want to leave this world and die!" Hornet cried harder and louder with a lot of tears bursting out from his eyes, until he eventually fell asleep.

3 months had passed, and Winter started to warm up. The sun began to shine from the clouds, and the light started to slowly melt the snow.

The light of the sun then shined through the hole of the hornets' hive. In the hive, Hornet was still inside his comb. Much to his surprise, because of the warmth of the sun, Hornet woke up from his sleep. His eyes blinked rapidly, and let out a big, long yawn. He didn't know that he was asleep until he realized he was sleeping for three months. He slept throughout the Winter, and yet, he's still alive. That was a miracle. A hornet like him should've died by now. His lifespan was believed to be 3-5 months, but it's been 9-10 months already. How could that be? How did he survive this long, especially through the winter?

"I can't believe it. I survived through the winter!" Hornet exclaimed as he quickly flew out of the hive, and noticed the surroundings that the snow was partially melted. It was still the beginning of the season, "This is Spring," Hornet never thought Spring season would be like this since he was born in Summer. He got a chance to flutter around, and wandered around for sightseeing. He could see the ground sprout all over, the trees began to develop green leaves and small flowers, and the sun's rays became brighter. It was the most amazing thing Hornet had ever seen, "Wow, it's really beautiful," Even with all the beauty of nature showing Hornet some wonders, he still wasn't so happy. "Why don't I feel like it?" Then, he looked back at the tree where his hive was hidden. He stared at it for a moment, and he realized there was no hope that his fellow hornet would come back to get him. He should've known in the beginning his own colony and his queen never liked him, because he was so different. He was too different, he showed a lot of good the most. He was born in a colony of murderous merciless hornets, and he wasn't that kind of hornet. This was why he wasn't loved by his colony. He was abandoned, left behind, and left to die. He was nothing to them. And Hornet... he had nothing left for him in this forest. He would be alone and die alone here if he stays, "That's it! I'm gonna get out of this dump!"

He finally snapped! Hornet decided to leave the worst place he could possibly live. He didn't want to stay in the same place where he was hated and disowned. Hornet flew out of the forest, and kept flying far, far, far away!

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Hornet had been flying away for days from the forest. He had been taking breaks from flying, and continued his trip. Honestly, he didn't know where to go, but he believed there was something out there that might help him know what he would do with his life. He flew for days, until he reached the city of Blaine.

Hornet was a bit lost. He never had been to a city before. It was so strange. The worst part is whenever he tried to ask someone. They got scared of him, screamed so loud, and attempted to kill him by smacking, stomping, or spraying him with bug spray. It was a miracle that he was able to talk to other people, and they could hear him talk, but instead of helping him, they gave him the exact opposite, by shooing him away. Hornet avoided getting hit as he was confused why people reacted that way whenever he flew near them.

At the park, Hornet found a place to rest after flying around for days, and getting away from people trying to kill him. Gladly, he found a bench for him to sit down on. He never felt this tired before as he felt a little weaker than usual.

"Ooh, I don't feel so good," Hornet felt he wanted to sleep again as he let his body. Just then, what he didn't expect, was a giant plastic tube, "What? Wha—?!" Hornet was suddenly startled as he tried to fly out of the tube, but the cover was sealed tight that won't let him escape, "Let me out! Let me out of here!" He screamed as loud as he can, but the scientist didn't listen to him.

The scientists that captured him heard his cries, but they refused to free him as they kept the tube where Hornet was inside a box.

"Where are you taking me?! HELP!" Hornet cried, but the box was already closed.

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Hornet felt like he was trapped in the tube for 18 hours. Luckily, there was a flower next to him for him to eat and survive. He didn't know what will happen to him, but he was still sad that he got captured for no reason.

Just then, he felt that the box was shaking, and Hornet stumbled down from standing. It took just a few minutes of shaking before Hornet felt he was placed into something hard. The box then opened, and a hand got in to take the tube where he was in. Hornet kept crying for mercy at the scientists to let him go, but they still wouldn't listen as they transferred him to another tube, but this time, it was made of glass, and the opening above him was closed by a cork. The scientists made a quick conversation with each other before leaving the laboratory, and shut the lights down.

Hornet tried to find another way to escape, but he wasn't strong enough to push the cork off the opening. It was closed real tight. Since there was nothing he could do for now, Hornet curled into a ball, and hugged himself, shedding a tear, "What did I do to deserve this?"

Then, the next day, the room's light flickered on as Hornet woke up from his sleep. He watched 3 scientists having a short conversation before putting gloves on, and taking out forceps from the pouch.

To his surprise, one of the scientists approached him, and opened the cork of the tube before the forceps slid in towards him. Hornet tried to fly out since now was his chance to escape, but he was easily captured by the forceps, and struggled to break free.

Hornet growled as he shouted at the scientists, "Help! Let me go! I'm warning you! I will bite you if you don't— what?" To his surprise, he was placed on a desk with a bright light above him. Then, he noticed another scientist holding up a Hypodermic needle, and approached to him.

Hornet knew what that thing would be doing to him as he squirmed to break free, "No. No, please, no!"

"It's okay, sir. We won't hurt you. We're just gonna experiment on you for an important project," one of the scientists that pinned him down said.

The second scientist successfully pointed the needle at Hornet's back, causing him to yelp a little, until it extracted some kind of liquid into him. The next thing Hornet knew was he felt so sleepy and his vision was so blurry.

"It's okay, mister. You'll just fall asleep, and we'll handle the rest," the third scientist said before Hornet completely passed out.

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Hornet opened his eyes.

He blinked.

His vision was blurry.

He blinked again.

He felt something cold attached to him.

He didn't know how long he was out, but at least he wasn't dead.

But then, he felt a little comfortable with his body.

It took him a while to figure out what was going on. Aside from the muffled voices and the blurry colors slowly coming in, he felt disoriented. Did he really black out?

"It's a success!" said one of the voices. "He is coming to now!"

"Hold on," said another. "Would the project work on him? Rember what happened with the others."

Finally, Hornet could finally see.

He could hear again.

Though, he still felt cold.

He found himself lying on a desk. The room he was in was much smaller than the last one he remembered being in before he blacked out. It seemed to be some kind of testing lab. Strangely, he could see that there was a hamster treadmill, a couple of blocks of different weights, and a container filled with water. To say that it looked like it was a rat playground was an understatement.

"Subject 22," said one of the scientists. "Wake up."

Hornet blinked. The three scientists from earlier looming over him like shadowy monsters. Three of them nearly looked unhinged. It was hard to tell, but when you see their eyes, you could really tell.

"Hello there, Subject 22," said the female scientist. "I'm pretty sure that you have questions."

Hornet blinked sheepishly. He didn't feel safe, but he didn't know who to rely on in this situation.

"Erm...yeah...yeah," he muttered. "What...really happened?"

"Congratulations, sport!" said Male Scientist #2. "You have successfully fused with our greatest creation yet! There were a few tweaks here and there. We had to replace a few things so that your body can function well. You may feel your chest cold and loss of memory for a few hours due to some minor brain damage, but that is just variable!"

"Really?" said Hornet, unnerved.

He slowly looked down and his eyes widened.

If he would cry that he became like a cyborg, then his reaction was understandable. His thorax was wrapped in metal. There were a few gaps in it as if it was part of a design, but to feel it fused into his thorax. What caught his attention was the turquoise glow coming from the middle. Nearly poking out from it was the small orb.

Hornet touched the orb out of curiosity, "Wh-what is this?" He even tried to take it off of his metal thorax, but he couldn't. It was inserted way too deep in that hole of his metallic suit. He even felt that there were small tubes that connected to his back neck and his upper abdomen. He couldn't even take them off either. This was so weird.

Hornet was shocked. He didn't know what to think. He was slowly hyperventilating at this discovery, but the fact that he was still alive got him to at least calm down. He was still confused, but he felt that he didn't want to ask more in case the scientists felt like adding a few more 'adjustments' to him.

Eventually, the scientists noticed him breathing in and out at a rapid pace.

"Aww..." cooed the female scientist insanely. "He's hyperventilating...of excitement! Just about a few tests before we can confirm that you will be able to live forever!"

"L-Live forever?" said Hornet, doubtful.

"Well, we're not sure about that. There are still a few things we need to consider," said the female scientist casually. "You might die without our project right there," she pointed to the orb on his now-metallic chest, "So that's why we have tests around. You're welcome!"

Hornet crossed his arms, trying to appear a bit intimidating. "I'm...guessing you're obsessed with achieving immortal-"

"Shush," said Scientist #2, placing a finger over Hornet's mouth. "That is for later."

For some reason, Hornet doubted there weren't going to settle their participant group with small bugs like him.

Then, he felt something was not right with his rear end. Hornet turned around, and was able to look down. It was like a black sharp needle, similar to those female hornets, "Wait... is that...?"

"A stinger?" the female scientist guessed, "Yeah. We got that from a previous hornet like you."

This made Hornet gasp that this is a surgical stinger.

"Well, not like your species. It was from another species of hornet," the 2nd female scientist explained, "but you look at you now. You have your own stinger!"

Hornet felt annoyed by the 2nd female scientist's enthusiasm, but he looked back at his new stinger, and rubbed it on the floor. He kinda liked it.

"Okay, this is cute," he admitted while pointing at the stinger, but then pointed to the turquoise orb on his newly metallic suit, "But this... this is messed up!"

"Don't worry, Subject 22. You're going to appreciate that thing that we made for you once you take some of our tests," Scientist #2 grinned.

He was about to turn away, but one of the scientists tapped on his back.

"Nuh-uh-uh!" he said with a crazed grin. "Not so fast. You must be crazy. Anyone who tries to run out of here gets caught in a mouse trap! And you know what we do with mice!"

Hornet flinched, his antenna twitching. "O-Oh really? What else keeps me from splitting?"

"You will die out there if we don't test this first," said the female scientist calmly. "If we get the right results and thus be able to confirm how long you'll be able to live, then you should be grateful."

Hornet was in a tight spot. Those scientists weren't willing to leave him alone, but with that stupid gem on, there was no safe way out of this. He sighed, rubbing his face.

"O-Okay," he said. He sounded so quiet, but he was actually afraid.

"Good!" said Scientist #1, grabbing Hornet a bit too hard, and placing him on a tiny treadmill. "Now, our first test is known as the running test! Where you get to run as fast as you can on that treadmill while-"

"We get it," interrupted the female scientist. "Subject 22, start running."

Hornet nodded, slowly walking using his legs. The scientists didn't bother since the machine attached to the treadmill was already recording down. For a few minutes, he was walking at the same speed before the scientists prodded him to speed up. He started walking a bit faster, waiting for the scientists to take down their notes of this. Then, he went a bit faster, breaking into a run.

By the time Hornet felt like he was at his limit, he was running so fast like a bullet from a gun.

"Outstanding!" said the female scientist condescendingly. "The gem must be working! Adding this to the subject skyrocket how long they can be able to run for!"

"I think we're ready to move on to the next test," said Scientist #1. "Subject 22, proceed to lift weights."

Hornet stopped, jumping out off the treadmill. "Wait...weights?"

Sooner enough, he found himself carrying heavy blocks.

The first few ones weren't bad. It ranged from half of his size to his size and the list went on. It didn't go too bad, but once the blocks got bigger, that was when Hornet was struggling. Eventually, when it came to one block that was three times his size, he couldn't lift it up high. His arms gave way before it squashed him.

Or at least he thought.

He found himself still alive. Still breathing.

The pain was mostly coming from the soreness of his muscles, but so far, he didn't feel a bone break.

"He's a hornet, right?" asked the female scientist. "This would have killed him instantly."

"It must be the gem that is protecting his body from being squashed," said Scientist #1. "The readings of the gem are medium, so it is using a small source of its power to turn Hornet's flesh into something similar to metal! For this period of time, he is stuck under there!"

He wished that it was the end of it since he was already sick of needing to rely on his gem to have this wonderful train trip of being underneath really heavy blocks. The last one was something equivalent to a wooden crate and he found himself nearly unable to breathe.

But still alive. He squeezed himself out of the heavyweights

"Splendid!" said the female scientists. "Now onto the next test. Holding your breath in water."

"What?" Hornet didn't hear what the female scientist said as he was catching his breath after being squashed.

He barely got enough time to ask as he was suddenly grabbed by Scientist #1, and shoved viciously right into the water container. As Hornet felt his entire body submerging underneath the top, everything was freezing once again. It was really cold. And hard to breathe. Hornet immediately flailed his arms around, even screaming at one point, but he couldn't move.

That was because of the sadistic lead scientist making sure that he stayed in the water for a long time. And ONLY for long until they get results that the gem was in the full effect of making sure this subject didn't die. In fact, the lead scientist was nearly crazy in thinking of drowning Hornet like this. By the time the 6-minute mark struck, the lead scientist's grip was nearly crushing.

"That's passed 5 minutes already," said the female scientist. "He hasn't blacked out yet. His vitals are still working surprisingly despite lack of air."

Scientist #1 pulled Hornet out and the poor bug could only gasp for air. He choked out mouthfuls of water. Once dropped, he slowly tried to regain his energy, slowly feeling tired from the three tests.

"You're kidding me right now?!" he gasped. "I nearly died!"

"And you're safe and sound with the gem," said Scientist #2. "Who's crazy now?"

"T-This is enough," said Hornet, shaking his head. "I don't like it...I don't like it!"

"Cease your whining, you wuss," snarled Scientist #1. "You are exactly just like the other unfortunate subjects! We gave you life, but you're not even thankful for how much you can survive! Maybe I should have brought over boiling water to test on you!"

He angrily knocked the water container over. Hornet didn't see, but he could hear the unmistakable sound of the container breaking into millions of pieces and the water spilling everywhere.

Then, Scientist #1 suddenly lowered his voice. "Wait, would you like to try being underwater in a bucket of boiling water?"

"No!" said Hornet.

"WELL, I DON'T WANT TO ANYWAY!" shouted the lead scientist hammily. "It always gives me burn-!"

"Your shift expires now," deadpanned the female scientist. "Clean up this mess before I'll tell the boss!"

Scientist #1 suddenly went silent. "...Okay, fine!"

Hornet didn't need to worry about that guy since he was already on janitor duty. However, he was afraid of the female scientist. She was colder, collected, and determined. Nothing seemed to phase her despite the mad look in her eyes.

The last test (because the female scientist wanted to go on her lunch break already) was getting Hornet in a large testing room. It was empty and lack of any table or furniture. Honestly, Hornet would rather stay there instead of be in the same room with lab equipment and lab lunatics. It would have given him all the space needed for him to think.

But nope. He was forced to take rounds around the room. Flying laps.

He was already tired at this point and he wasn't sure if his wings could work, but he rather do so instead of being perished. He flew around at least 10 times already as fast as he could and he wanted to stop. However, he still had enough energy to continue this test. The two remaining scientists into taking notes about his progress that they failed to notice how Hornet wanted to collapse.

Hornet wished that he shouldn't have been made to be in these tests. He could have died, but this gem on his metallic chest seemed to be more than happy to let him go through this awful suffering. He wasn't sure how long he was going to last with those scientists. But as long as the tests were successful, he would be their guinea pig for a long time.

After 30 laps, he rested by the edge near the window, stretching his wings since they were already sore.

"That's a new record," said the female scientist. "Looks like the gem can ensure that you live longer, even if you nearly run out of energy. And you being healthy like this means that you can't die from the life cycle of your species. I guess that concludes today's tests. Hope we see you soon for the next tests."

Hornet wished he wouldn't.

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Once again, after all those tests, Hornet was still locked up, but this time, in a glass jar. The tube was too narrow for him, and he felt so uncomfortable in that tube. Luckily, the scientists accepted his requests of needing a bigger space for him to be kept.

Hornet's jar was placed on top of a shelf where the books and other experiments were placed. He could even hear their voices, but the scientists were unaware he was listening.

"Impressive. This hornet lived more than 3-5 months, which would've been his life span!" the female scientist said while reading the information online

"But we haven't found him yet before we put him that life gem," Female Scientist #2 stated, "Is it possible there were more sources of how he surpassed his lifespan?"

"I don't know. But he was weak when he was found. It seems like he was about to die, until we put that life gem on him," the female scientist answered.

"So, the life gem might work. It'll help him live for a long time," Scientists #2 cheered.

So, this was what it was. A life gem. Hornet looked down at the orb at the center of his chest. It was called a life gem. An object that helped him live, even from dangerous obstacles and natural causes of death. Maybe this was the reason why there are tubes attached from his now-metallic thorax to the rest of his body. The life gem had been powering not just Hornet's thorax, but also his head and abdomen, that was why he felt the rest of his body still functioning properly and strengthening.

Female Scientist #2 nodded in agreement while holding the clipboard that contained the information she and her fellow scientists gathered about the life gem, "As long as he had that attached to him, he will live longer than an ordinary hornet. Probably years or longer. But I don't think he's gonna be immortal. Life gems can expire sometimes, they are not forever. We don't know how long it would take despite our tests, but with that life span, our little guy here would live a normal life like everyone else does."

Well, that is good news. Hornet didn't mind living a little longer than his fellow male hornets. He saw them die before him, and it was weird why he didn't die along with them. It was a miracle, but he did feel a little weak days ago before he was captured. It was probably his body and mind that couldn't live that long anymore. Now that he has the life gem, he was able to survive his own life span, and live like humans and other longer life-spanned animals. Maybe this won't be bad after all. The test might've tortured him, but maybe this is a blessing that he got to live longer than his own colony. And not only that. He has a stinger! The thing that male hornets like him won't ever have! Take that!

But the conversation wasn't over as Hornet kept listening.

"Did you get another list of experiments for our subject tomorrow?" The female scientist asked

"Yes. One last test, and we'll get rid of him," Female Scientist #2 said.

Hornet gasped in horror. This was the most terrifying news that Hornet had ever heard.

"Good. After we get the results, we'll just get that life gem off of him, and recharge. That bug was no use anyway. No one would miss a short lifespan insect like a hornet anyway," Scientist #1 said.

"We should've tested a rat instead," Scientist #2 chuckled as the three of them left the room, and turned the lights off before locking the door.

This is bad. This is really really bad! He won't survive any longer after all. If he finished a test tomorrow, then he would die for sure. Hornet started to get scared. He looked at his life gem, and held it close. It was glowing. Hornet didn't know why he was chosen to be an experiment of this life gem, but this meant for him to live a normal life like everyone else, then he won't waste this "blessing". There was a reason why his life hadn't ended yet, and he was given an extra life to prevent him from dying. He might not like being tested with this life gem as it was torturing him, but living a normal life with this gem would be great to experience more time of freedom, and away from his troubled past. He couldn't wait until tomorrow to escape. He has to escape sooner or now.

"I have to get out of here!" He panted in fear as he looked around, trying to find a way out of this jar and this laboratory.

Hornet quickly shoved himself onto the walls of the jar, hoping that he would knock himself and the jar off the shelf to break it, and he would escape, but he wasn't strong enough to knock the jar. But then, he looked up, and only had the cover with holes that sealed the jar close. Just then, he had an idea, but he wasn't sure if it's gonna work.

Hornet grabbed two holes in the lid with his hands, and started spinning himself. He felt the lid was stuck, so he had to try harder. But then, a miracle happened. The lid started to turn. To his ecstatic, Hornet continued to spin around, until he reached the end, opening the lid of the jar, and threw it off the opening. Finally, Hornet was free!

Hornet flew out, and wandered all over the room to find a way out. Then, he noticed an open window, leading outside where he could see the night sky and the stars. Finally, a way out, Hornet flew threw an open window, and kept flying as fast as he could. He even removed the tag from his abdomen, and threw it away. Hornet kept flying fast and far far far away from the laboratory so he wouldn't be seen by any scientist or anyone in the area.

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Now that Hornet was sure he was already too far from the laboratory, he didn't know where he was now. He was only surrounded by bright lights, tall buildings, and fast cars. He wasn't familiar with a big city like this. He didn't know where to go or what to do anymore. With the life gem on the metallic suit of his thorax, Hornet had to keep flying to get away from danger.

"Why is this happening to me? Why do I live like this?" Hornet sighed as he felt his eyes watery while he was flying, "First, my colony hated me, then I became some kind of experiment, and now... where would I go?" Fluttering in the air, Hornet looked down on his glowing life gem, and caressed it, "Now that I had this thing in me, guess I won't die any time soon, but..." he looked up to see the tall buildings brightening the night sky because of their lights, "What would be my purpose now?"

youtube

Don't be upset or mad at all Don't feel regret, or sad at all Hey, I'm still an ordinary hornet

And I'm fine, I am totally fine I will stand on the side as they shine I'm not fine, I'm not fine

I can't murder another critter I can't kill another home I can't take another night Up in my comb

Waiting for a miracle I can't bear to defend the hive by fighting It leaves me in great disdain Can't keep down the unspoken visible pain

Always waiting on a miracle, a miracle Always flying alone Always wanting for more Like I'm still at that hive Longing to shine like all of them shine All I need is a change All I need is a chance

All I know is I can't Stay on the side Open your eyes Open your eyes Open your eyes

I would be useful Make a whole crew be victorious Someone please just let me know Where do I go

I am waiting on a miracle A miracle I would prove myself Show this world something new

Who I am inside So what can I do? I'm sick of waiting on a miracle So here I go

I am ready! Come on, I'm ready! I've been patient and steadfast and steady! Bless me now as everyone got blessed everyday

When they got a miracle Am I too late for a miracle?

That was all he could think of. He had been suffering enough. His fellow hornets hated him, his colony left him to die, scientists used him as an experiment with an object that would help him survive, and now he was lost in this big smelly city. What would he do now? Where would he go?

Hornet found himself in a narrow dark alley where there were garbage cans, and hung laundry above him. Hornet flew down, and took a small piece of cardboard and paper as he landed on the ground. He put the tiny piece of cardboard on the ground, and laid down with a newspaper covering his body. Now that he's a cyborg, he had to feel comfortable. It didn't feel comfortable with a new stinger sewn on the point of his rear end. Just then, he spotted a tiny stuffed baby swan behind the garbage can. He crawled and snatched the stuffed swan, and squeezed it. This made him feel comfortable, and even sleepy. Hornet put the stuffed swan down, and used it as his pillow before falling asleep.

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Credits:

Rhenzy Feliz - Mr. Hornet

Ben Affleck - Scientist #1/Lead Scientist

Alice Braga - Female Scientist

C.S. Lee - Scientist #2

Angela Bassett - Female Scientist #2

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Author aggimaginary

Co-Author TU4QU0I53T4IAN6L3 Masterclass60

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So you're a tough guy Like it really rough guy Just can't get enough guy Chest always so puffed guy I'm that bad type Make your mama sad type Make your girlfriend mad tight Might seduce your dad type I'm the bad guy

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So, here it is! This is the chapter that is a surprise for everyone.

This chapter took place after Hornet is abandoned by his colony as it was mentioned in chapters 3 and 4. After studying the map of Washington, I had the chapter mentioning Baine City, which was the only city close to Chuckanut Mountain.

This is also the first chapter of The Bad Guys fanfic that the canon characters of The Bad Guys movie were absent, due to being Mr. Hornet's past.

The concept of "life gem" was an inspiration by a Deviantart user, GrovyleFangirl1997, who also let me use this concept for Hornet and his story. Thank you so much for letting me use the life gem concept.

Male hornets don't have stingers, so, since then, Hornet has an artificial stinger made from a different species of female hornet.

The chapter also revealed that Hornet was a cyborg and got a chance to live past his species' original life span.

Hornet's "Waiting On A Miracle" was a parody of the original song from "Encanto"

Special thanks to TU4QU0I53T4IAN6L3 for helping me create the Test scenes. And also, to MasterClass60 for her and TU4QU0I53T4IAN6L3 helped me recreate the lyrics for the song for Hornet.

I hope you all like this chapter so far. Sorry for the delay. See you soon!

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#the bad guys #the bad guys movie #the bad guys dreamworks #dreamworks the bad guys #thebadguys #tbg #the bad guys movie 2022 #the bad guys 2022 #the bad guys oc #tbg oc #tbg dreamworks #the bad guys fanfic #mr hornet #experimented #Youtube

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miabebe · 10 days ago

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it was so funny i fell asleep without sending in my really long ask, then tumblr deleted what i wrote and now i can’t remember what i wrote in that.

anyway, jeonghan psycho fic was WILD. it was a banger. it rocked my world i must say.

to be honest i don’t like the dark themes and psychotic behavior in general, so i had my internal debate if i will read it or not. fun fact, if i read something it will remain in my brain for a really long time, my brain even illustrates a photo for me to see. for instance, i read a crime novel 10 years ago with graphic descriptions of killings, until now i can imagine the way how the killer killed them all. also my brain tends to spook me every now and then with those bloody photos my imagination created.

BUT if i watch something, may it be horror or not, it will stay for like a day or two and i will forget i even watched it in the first place, so if i really like what i watch i will grab my journal and write commentaries and reactions to that film or video or drama for it to stay on my brain. it was funny my brain is wired this way, and this is why i enjoy reading more than watching.

back to the jeonghan fic it was something really. i doubted i will read it but then i said, “you know what? fuck it. it’s mia’s fic we are talking about. mia always delivers, so i will give it a try”.

in the first few sentences i was like, “yes typical psychotic yn fic” BUT YOU PROVED ME WRONG. just like when i thought the climax dies down, the next sentence will take me up again. it fucked me up so good. especially when it said that jeonghan is equally, if not more psychotic than yn. they are so obsessed with each other but what do u mean jeonghan plotted everything? what do u mean he has a favorite dumpster? what do you mean yn drugged his dad’s milk and also jeonghan added some more pills?

it was stated how much they love each other to the point where they will kill for each other. jealousy really adds something to the mix, i started to wonder what exactly will jeonghan do if some guy shows interest on yn. but given the fact that yn herself clings to han for dear life, i don’t think someone will do that. or jeonghan will start plucking the guy’s fingers one by one, who knows?

the way you wrote everything down in your own style blows my mind. u didn’t gave me the chance to read this, but also u let me engage my bloody imagination and put it to good use. not only that, but given that you have a lot on your plate to work with and u still gave us this halloween present, it is a talent and a skill combined.

i can safely say you turned me into a new person with this fic. who wouldve thought i will enjoy these type of fic?

HANDS DOWN EVERYONE, MIA JUST WON THE BEST WRITER FOR HALLOWEEN SEASON.

as i always say, take care of yourself. drink a lot of water and rest whenever u have to.

ZEN <3 Long time no see my friend!

If I'm being honest, I get very uncomfortable with dark themes too? I'm not the biggest fan of horror - I'm not scared of it, it's just I don't find it entertaining? But psycho-thrillers, god they terrify me, I guess because it has a higher chance of being real? I don't usually watch or even read that genre much but idk something about spooky season just brought that side out of me hahaha

I totally get what you mean, imagination tends to be powerful like that! I can also tell you went out of your comfort zone to read this, I hope you're okay and also that you know you don't have to push yourself to read something that makes you uncomfortable just because I wrote it, I really do appreciate your effort to though <3

ahahhaha you know what they say - crazy finds crazy, so these two thankfully ended up with each other! If some guy is interested in Y/n hmm I think she will take matters into her own hands hahaha there's no need for Han to even step in - these two are meant to be like that

I'm a big fan of 'expect the unexpected' so I like having that theme in all my work, sometimes I obsess over it a bit too much too but that's a discussion for another time, I'm just glad you enjoyed it!

I hope you're looking after yourself too Zen - it was nice nearing from you after a while <3

#I do have another 2 in line for halloween btw #cheols is out #shuas is coming #but again #please don't read if it doesn't make you feel comfortable #zen #todayiscloudyday #favs #anything and always #yoon jeonghan

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kjack89 · 3 years ago

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An Agreement Between Gentlemen (Chapter 9/14)

Continuation of the E/R Bridgerton AU, regency-era fake-marriage fic. I feel confident enough in the remainder of my outline to finally put the end chapter number up top, though of course, it’s subject to change because I’m, you know, me. (Chapter 1 tumblr | AO3, chapter 2 tumblr | AO3, chapter 3 tumblr | AO3, chapter 4 tumblr | AO3, chapter 5 tumblr | AO3, chapter 6 tumblr | AO3, chapter 7 tumblr | AO3, chapter 8 tumblr | AO3)

Rarely has this Author been so inundated with the same piece of news, and so while most readers likely already know this, it must still be reported for those apparently unaware or living under a rock: the Marquess of Enjolras has made his triumphant return to the city.

But those hoping to catch a glimpse of the new Marchioness will find themselves disappointed: the Marchioness has returned to her family home, having apparently fallen ill while on her honeymoon. Still, there is plenty of time left in the season for her to make an appearance, so all hope is not lost.

And while she has not yet taken her place in the Enjolras manor, this Author has learned that her brother has been invited to stay with the Marquess, a move that gives no credence to the rumors that the two have fallen out ahead of the Marquess’s marriage to Mr. Grantaire’s sister. Indeed, if anything, the pair’s unlikely friendship seems only stronger now, which only proves that the marriage mart truly does make strange bedfellows.

Far more important than their living situation, of course, is the annual de Courfeyrac ball this very evening. With the Marquess back in town, he is certain to attend, and this Author is equally certain that even without his new bride to accompany him, all eyes will surely be on the one bachelor who got away…LADY WHISTELDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS, 14 MAY 1831

“Stop fidgeting.”

“I’m not fidgeting,” Enjolras grumbled, though he reluctantly stopped playing with the cuff of his shirtsleeves.

Grantaire rolled his eyes as the receiving line at the de Courfeyrac Ball inched forward. “You are so,” he said in an undertone. “And leave your damned cravat alone, it took me near a quarter hour to get it to lay right.”

Enjolras had barely even starting to reach up to adjust his cravat, and his hand fell back to his side as he gave Grantaire a look. “Yes, but only because you were the one who untied it in the first place.”

As Grantaire had indeed been the one who had untied it, in the carriage ride over to the de Courfeyrac manor, mostly to give himself better access to Enjolras’s neck, his self-satisfied grin was somewhat to be expected. “Yes, well, can you really blame me?” he murmured, eyeing Enjolras appreciatively. “I know you hate formal dress, but by God, man, you were made to wear an evening coat.”

Enjolras could not help but preen at that, just a little, even as he warned Grantaire teasingly, “Keep looking at me like that and our cover will be blown sooner than you think.”

Grantaire just laughed lightly. “Please,” he said dismissively. “I’ve been looking at you like this for ten years now with none the wiser.” He paused and considered it. “Or at least, with none willing to comment on it, and I doubt very much that would change now.”

But Enjolras was still focused on the first part of what Grantaire had said. “You’ve really been looking at me like this for a decade?”

Grantaire smirked. “Again, can you blame me?”

Enjolras hesitated, wondering for not the first time what it had been like for Grantaire, to love him as he had for as long as he had, and with Enjolras among those none the wiser. “Does it bother you that I never noticed?”

“I think it would have bothered me more if you had,” Grantaire said, sounding a little surprised by the question. “I wasn’t ready for you to know before.”

“And now?”

Grantaire shrugged, a little helplessly. “Well, that cat’s quite out of the bag regardless, isn’t it?” he asked, before his voice softened, just slightly. “Besides, no matter how prepared I was, it was worth it in the end.”

Enjolras smiled as well. “Keep talking like that and I might be tempted to do something untowards,” he murmured, bending his head toward Grantaire.

“Scandalous,” Grantaire said, with a wicked smirk. “Besides, keep talking like that and I might just let you.”

Enjolras let out a laugh, but his amusement did not last long. As the line barely moved, he could not help but bounce on the balls of his feet, trying to glance over the top of the receiving line. “I wish Courf would just let us go in with having to go through the whole thing,” he muttered.

“Yes, I too wish my friends would allow me to break all social protocol just because I dread having to sit through it,” Grantaire said wryly. “But alas, seeing as how we live in the real world…”

He trailed off as the line started moving again, and finally, with only a few more minutes’ delay, Enjolras and Grantaire were at the front of the receiving line. “Enjolras!” Courfeyrac called, sounding elated, and he grasped Enjolras by both shoulders before leaning in and kissing both his cheeks. “And Grantaire!” To Enjolras’s surprise, he embraced Grantaire in much the same way – and judging by Grantaire’s wide eyes, he was equally surprised.

“Christ, Courfeyrac, have you been borrowing Jehan’s opium?” Grantaire muttered when Courfeyrac finally released him.

Courfeyrac ignored him, just beaming at both of them. “From brothers in arms to brothers in law!” he trilled, clapping his hands together. “What an unexpected twist to this tale. Enjolras, you must find me later and fill me in on the details.”

Enjolras tried to smile, though he was pretty sure it looked more like a wince. “I am certain you would track me down if I didn’t.”

Courfeyrac laughed loudly and waved them through. For as long as he had waited to finally get inside, Enjolras found himself hesitating at the ballroom entrance, dreading what welcome awaited him within in the wake of his ‘scandal’ and marriage.

As if sensing exactly what he was feeling, Grantaire found his hand and covertly squeezed it, his own hand warm and strong in Enjolras’s. “Be easy,” he whispered in Enjolras’s ear, and for the first time all evening, Enjolras relaxed, just slightly.

Of course, he tensed once again when they finally entered the ballroom, and the first person Enjolras saw across the way was Combeferre. He reached out blindly for Grantaire’s arm, gripping his elbow harder than he likely needed to.

This was always going to be the hardest part of their charade, as Enjolras had confided in Grantaire the previous night as they lay together in his bed, neither one tired enough yet to fall asleep. “I don’t know what to tell Combeferre and Courfeyrac,” he had confessed, turning so that he was facing Grantaire.

“What were you planning on telling them before?” Grantaire had asked, curiosity clear in his voice.

“Before what?” Enjolras had asked.

Grantaire had given him a look. “Before, when it was just a straightforward fictional marriage,” he said dryly.

“Oh.” Enjolras flushed slightly. “Frankly, I hadn’t given it much thought. I was certainly going to allude to the arrangement solving certain matters with my mother, and let them draw their own conclusions.”

“And that same answer will no longer suffice?”

Enjolras had drawn Grantaire close to kiss him lightly. “Frankly, I suspect my interactions with you will undermine the credibility of that explanation. Combeferre and Courfeyrac are not stupid, and decidedly more observant than myself.”

Grantaire’s expression softened. “Then we need not interact in front of them,” he had said quietly. “I am overdue in seeing Joly and Bossuet, and it is not as if any of our friends expects me to be at your side all evening. Or at all, frankly.”

While Enjolras had agreed at the time, now, faced with the reality of the situation, he wanted nothing more than Grantaire to stay at his side. But Grantaire was already pulling away, even as the look he gave Enjolras was gentle, and understanding. “They’re your friends,” he reminded Enjolras in an undertone.

“They’re your friends as well,” Enjolras muttered. “And they will likely forgive neither of us for the deception.”

“Forgive? Perhaps not, or at least not immediately. But they will understand.”

“Will they?” Enjolras asked, more rhetorical than anything, and mostly because Grantaire had already abandoned him, making a beeline to where Joly and Bossuet were talking quietly together in the corner.

With no excuse left, Enjolras crossed to where Combeferre waited, feeling more nervous than he frankly expected to be. Combeferre’s expression was completely neutral as he approached, which did not help Enjolras’s nerves. “Hello,” Combeferre said when Enjolras finally reached him. “Long time no see. Anything new with you?”

Enjolras laughed lightly. Combeferre’s dry humor had never before failed to put him at ease, and this was no exception. “Oh, a bit of this, a bit of that,” he said airily before adding, in a more serious tone, “I certainly doubt either you or I were expecting the events of the past few weeks.”

“After the scene your mother made at the Musain?” Combeferre returned with an arched eyebrow. “I expected you married within the fortnight. Grantaire’s sister was a twist I did not see coming.”

Enjolras shrugged, avoiding meeting Combeferre’s eyes. “Yes, well. A twist, but perhaps not as unpleasant a one as some would expect.”

Combeferre nodded slowly, looking at him closely. “Whatever anyone may say, you seem happy,” he remarked.

“Well, I am rid of my mother,” Enjolras said. “Or will be, once I hand over the dowry.”

Combeferre’s expression didn’t change as he took a sip of his drink. “I didn’t say you seemed relieved. I said you seem happy.”

As usual, Combeferre saw right through him, and Enjolras took a moment to compose his answer, opting for as much of the truth as he could give. “I suppose I am happy,” he said. “It’s...freeing, in a way, to know that part of my future is settled.”

“To be free,” Combeferre murmured. “What greater thing is there.”

Enjolras smiled. “Precisely.”

Combeferre nodded slowly. “Well, if you are happy, then I am happy,” he assured Enjolras, before adding, in a slightly disapproving tone, “Of course, Grantaire’s going to be a bit insufferable for awhile, I suppose.”

Enjolras felt his heart stop. Had Combeferre figured them out so quickly? “What do you mean?” he asked, trying to keep his voice calm.

Combeferre raised an eyebrow. “Surely you realize – you’ve rather elevated his status.”

“In what way?”

“By marrying his sister, he is now brother-in-law to a marquess,” Combeferre said slowly, and Enjolras felt immediate relief that he had not figured him out. “Which may very well make him the most eligible bachelor here. A fact I’m certain he’s realized, even if you haven’t.”

He nodded towards the corner that Grantaire had headed to, but where previously he’d been in conversation with Joly and Bossuet, now they seemed surrounded by numerous young women. Enjolras’s initial relief was replaced by a pit in his stomach as he watched one such lady laugh, touching Grantaire’s arm in a way that made Enjolras’s vision go red.

Combeferre, as he always seemed to be, was correct. Before, Grantaire had been notorious as a rake whose sole redeeming quality was association with many powerful peers and gentry. But now, while he may still offer no title, he offered societal status that far too many mothers would crave for their daughters.

And even though Grantaire seemed quite convinced of his affection for Enjolras, there was little doubt that this could change things. After all, while Enjolras would get no enjoyment from marriage to any woman in the entire city, Grantaire very well might.

He was so busy watching Grantaire flirt (or at least, not automatically brush the young women off, which was tantamount to the same thing in Enjolras’s mind) that he barely noticed when Combeferre was pulled into a different conversation entirely, leaving him standing alone. It ended up for the best, though, as he then had no need to make an excuse for crossing the ballroom, making a beeline for Grantaire.

But he was intercepted on his way by Éponine Thenárdier, who blocked his path entirely. “Lord Enjolras,” she said, smiling sweetly at him.

Enjolras jerked a nod. “Miss Thenárdier,” he muttered, trying in vain to sidestep her, but she moved swiftly to again block his path.

“You must allow me to congratulate you on your nuptials,” she told him, her tone saccharine. “I wish you nothing but happiness, no matter how surprising the event was.”

Internally, Enjolras rolled his eyes, knowing damn well that she was trying to goad him into sharing details that would almost invariably make their way into Lady Whistledown the moment he spoke them. Externally, he forced a smile that almost certainly looked more like a grimace. “I’m not certain there’s much of a causal link between surprise and happiness, but thank you nonetheless.”

Éponine laughed lightly. “But where is your lovely bride this evening?”

She almost certainly already knew the answer, having undoubtedly read about it like everyone else had in Lady Whistledown, but Enjolras nonetheless gritted his teeth and told her, “I’m afraid she is ill, and staying at her family home in the country until she recovers.”

“Oh, how dreadful,” she said, though Enjolras noted she didn’t sound particularly upset by the news. “And we were all so eager to meet her.”

“I’m sure you were,” Enjolras muttered, before Grantaire appeared without warning at his side.

“Isn’t it a lovely ball?” he asked, so brightly that Enjolras wondered for a moment if he had been hit in the head – or been hitting the whiskey already. “It is as if someone has unhooked the stars and put them on the table in the guise of candles, don’t you think?”

Éponine’s smile slipped, for just a moment. “Indeed,” she murmured politely, but the look she gave Grantaire was icy as she swept away, clearly put out at having her attempted interrogation so rudely interrupted.

Grantaire smirked as he watched her leave, resting his hand on Enjolras’s back, a little too low to be entirely proper. “The trick,” he murmured in Enjolras’s ear, “is to be so banal that absolutely no one wishes to continue the conversation.”

Despite himself and the jealousy he could still feel, Enjolras was unable to stop his smile. “Is that your secret?” he asked in an undertone.

“My secret is usually to get drunk as quickly as possible and then disappear without saying goodbye,” Grantaire said cheerfully. “But as I am in polite company—” He nodded his head graciously at Enjolras, who rolled his eyes affectionately. “—we must make do together.”

And indeed they did. Enjolras was shocked to find that Grantaire’s trick of not providing any details about his fictional wife and instead speaking of the decor, or the weather, or something equally boring was enough to forestall almost all conversation that followed. It helped, he realized, as he and Grantaire made the rounds together, that far fewer young women and their mothers attempted to monopolize his time or beg him for a dance, almost certainly because they had set their sights on more available targets, and the ones that did want to make conversation were after gossip, like Éponine, and easily thwarted.

But neither was what really made the evening bearable; instead, it was Grantaire who proved the difference in the evening.. Grantaire, always quick with a quip or scathing observation under his breath, who stayed by his side despite the invitations to dance that he received. Grantaire, who knew without Enjolras needing to say a word when they needed to stop for refreshments or be pulled away from the conversation. Grantaire, who was as easy a companion as Enjolras had ever had.

And Grantaire who was, according to Combeferre at least, now the most eligible bachelor in the place.

As much as Grantaire was turning this most dreaded part of his social obligations into, perhaps not the most anticipated, but at least something that could be enjoyed rather than merely endured, Enjolras could not shake what Combeferre had said, or the pit that formed in his stomach when he thought about it.

“Is everything alright?” Grantaire asked an hour or so later, his brow furrowed as he looked at Enjolras.

“Fine,” Enjolras said quickly, giving him a tight smile. “Just a bit warm in here, do you not think?”

Grantaire studied him closely for a moment. “Perhaps we should step out onto the balcony,” he suggested. “Get some air.”

“That sounds like a good—”

“There you are!” Courfeyrac exclaimed with his usual exuberance as he joined them, oblivious to how close Enjolras had been to escaping. “As promised, since you did not come find me later as requested, I have instead hunted you down. And Grantaire is still at your side, how lovely.”

“Not for long,” Grantaire said, ignoring the pleading look Enjolras shot him. “I’m due for a refill. Anything for either of you?”

He did not wait for a reply, leaving Enjolras alone with Courfeyrac, whose smile had sharpened. “Come now, you can afford to look a little less panicked,” he said innocently, looping his arm through Enjolras’s. “After all, people will think you don’t wish to speak to one of your oldest friends.”

“Speak with, or be interrogated by?” Enjolras muttered.

Courfeyrac’s grin widened. “Potato, po-tah-to.” He patted Enjolras’s arm reassuringly. “But truly, more the former than the latter. Too many prying ears, and I’d rather learn the details of your scandal where they can’t be transmitted to the inimitable Lady Whistledown.”

Enjolras snorted. “Yes, that would be a shame,” he said dryly.

But something in his tone made Courfeyrac pause, his eyes narrowing slightly as he looked at Enjolras. “I was hardly anticipating you being the model of wedded bliss, but you seem far too downtrodden for someone who must no longer put up with the marriage mart. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Enjolras said, by instinct alone, and when Courfeyrac just looked at him, he sighed and relented. “Just something Combeferre said.”

He was expecting Courfeyrac to demand details, details that Enjolras would not be able to share without revealing the truth, but to his surprise, Courfeyrac just rolled his eyes and waved a dismissive hand. “Oh, ignore him,” he said. “He’s just jealous.”

Enjolras frowned. “Jealous?” he repeated. “Of what?”.

Courfeyrac looked at him as if the answer was obvious. “He thinks he’s been replaced, you fool,” he said impatiently, and when Enjolras still looked confused, added, “As your best friend. By Grantaire.”

The statement was so absurd that Enjolras barked a laugh before realizing Courfeyrac was entirely serious. “Really?” he asked derisively. “Forgive me, I did not realize we were still in the nursery.”

Courfeyrac just shrugged. “Perhaps not, but you cannot deny that he used to be your partner in crime when it came to your schemes.” He gave Enjolras an appraising look. “And whatever else you may say, you and I, I think, can acknowledge that this is a scheme of some variety, though of which, I could not say.”

Enjolras felt stricken at the realization of how Combeferre had interpreted his involvement with Grantaire, which, of course, couldn’t be further from the truth. “I never thought—”

Courfeyrac patted his arm. “Of course you didn’t.”

Enjolras sighed and tugged his arm out of Courfeyrac’s grip. “Still, I should go apologize.”

“You should do no such thing,” Courfeyrac said firmly, turning to face him head on. “You’ve done nothing wrong, but even if you had, actions speak louder than words. Spend some time planning with him before the next Les Amis gathering, and all will be forgiven.”

“But not forgotten.”

Courfeyrac just looked amused. “My dear fellow, none of us, I think, will be able to forget the moment when you and Grantaire finally stopped trying to kill each other using just your words.” His expression softened. “And believe me, no matter what Combeferre may say, we’re all quite grateful that you have.” His eyebrows raised. “Speaking of Grantaire, I believe he wants a word.”

He nodded over Enjolras’s shoulder, and Enjolras turned to find Grantaire, holding two glasses of champagne and gesturing with his head toward the door that led out to the balcony. Enjolras nodded his understanding, and turned back to Courfeyrac, who had already disappeared into the crowd.

Enjolras crossed to the balcony door as quickly as possible to avoid being waylaid once more, and this time, he was successful. Never had he been so relieved to find himself alone and out of doors, even if the night was unseasonably cold. Grantaire laughed lightly from where he was leaning against the balcony railing. “You look like you need this more than I do,” he said, offering Enjolras one of the glasses of champagne.

Enjolras took it gratefully and drained it in one long gulp. “I did need that,” he told Grantaire, setting the empty glass down on the flat top of the wide marble balustrade. “I suppose I did not fully appreciate how complicated this all was going to be on my return.”

Grantaire eyed him carefully, his expression unreadable. “Curious,” he said lightly. “You normally think through every detail before you take any action.”

Enjolras shrugged. “Desperation apparently made me less thorough,” he said. “And, of course, there were unanticipated complications along the way that I did not account for.”

Grantaire let out a light, humorless laugh. “Am I to assume that I am one of those complications?”

“Yes,” Enjolras said, not seeing any point in sugarcoating the truth. “Though a mostly welcome complication.”

Grantaire nodded slowly. “Who would have thought the word ‘mostly’ could feel like a dagger being driven into me,” he murmured, though he also hastened to add, “I jest, I jest.”

Enjolras traced a finger along the line of the balustrade. “I did not intend to hurt you by saying it,” he said heavily. “Only I think we need to be honest with one another.”

Grantaire searched his expression for a long moment. “I have been entirely honest with you,” he said carefully. “So if there is anyone with something to hide…”

He trailed off, looking at Enjolras expectantly. “Not to hide,” Enjolras hedged. “But one of the complications I did not anticipate has revealed itself this evening, and that is related to your social standing.”

Grantaire blinked. “My— what?”

“Combeferre pointed out that by me marrying your sister, your status has risen to one of the most eligible bachelors,” Enjolras explained. “And that knowledge complicates things.”

“How so?” Grantaire asked, his brow furrowed.

Enjolras shrugged, avoiding Grantaire’s eyes. “You have...options now, I suppose,” he muttered. “Real options, for a real marriage.” He hesitated before adding, “Options that I would not discourage you from exploring.”

Grantaire nodded slowly, turning to stare out at the sprawling grounds that surrounded the manner. After a long moment, he asked softly, “Am I being thrown over, then?”

“What?” Enjolras asked, confused.

“Is this your rather inelegant attempt to be rid of me?” Grantaire asked, his voice brittle. “Trying to soften the blow by intimating that I now have ‘options’?”

Enjolras stared blankly at him. “Of course not,” he spluttered. “That’s not at all what—”

“Then tell me,” Grantaire interrupted, “when I told you, multiple times now, that I love you, did you think I was speaking falsely?”

Enjolras scowled. “Not at all, but you did not know all the facts then!”

“And what facts could possibly matter in this regard?”

“The fact that you have a real chance to make a marriage match that would improve your standing and your family’s standing!” Enjolras snapped, though he wasn’t quite sure why he was angry, and especially at Grantaire. “You could secure a future for your lineage that any man would be envious of. It’s why most men put themselves through these torturous affairs.”

Grantaire just shook his head. “Most men, but not you, and certainly not me,” he said quietly.

Something in his tone caused Enjolras to deflate, but it also allowed him to realize why he was so angry, or more accurately, at whom he was so angry: himself. He had dragged Grantaire down this path, and this was perhaps the last real opportunity that either had to part ways before irreparable damage was done. “Think of what you are saying,” he said, his voice low and urgent. “I cannot offer you anything, not my name, not my title, not even the promise of the future if we are discovered. You deserve so much more than that.”

Grantaire shook his head again, but slower this time, and with a crooked sort of smile. “You can offer me the only thing I have ever wanted: you,” he said simply. “There is no one on Earth who can offer me more than that.” Enjolras shook his head, ready to interrupt, but Grantaire did not let him. “Do not seek to dismiss my words, when I mean every one of them. There is no happiness that I would find now with any other, not now that I know what true happiness is. Not now when I know what true love is.”

The breath caught in Enjolras’s throat, and for a moment, he could not speak. If he had been waiting for the perfect moment to finally tell Grantaire that he loved him, he knew he would never find one better than this. The music from the waltz taking place inside the ballroom swelled, and Enjolras leaned in toward Grantaire, reaching out to lightly cover Grantaire’s hand resting on the railing with his own. “Grantaire,” he started, his voice soft, “I—”

But before he could get the two most important words out, the doors to the balcony banged open, and Enjolras and Grantaire instinctively moved apart as two giggling couples spilled out of the ballroom.

The moment was thoroughly ruined, which perhaps explained the face Grantaire made as he turned back to Enjolras. “Shall we consider this our sign to adjourn for the evening?”

“Yes please,” Enjolras said with a sigh of relief.

His relief was short-lived, however, as a current of tension resonated between them as they made their way back through the ballroom and then waited out front until his carriage pulled around. As soon as they were inside and en route back to his place, Enjolras cleared his throat. “Shall we continue our conversation?”

Grantaire sighed. “I did not realize there was more to say.”

Enjolras gave him a look. “There is always more to say.”

“That should really be your family motto,” Grantaire muttered. “Plus semper est dicere.”

“I don’t think that’s an accurate translation,” Enjolras said mildly. “Though at least it’d probably be more appropriate than my actual family motto, Nox finiet.”

“Perhaps I’ll have Marius figure out the correct translation, then, and we can have it engraved on our stationary.”

Ordinarily, Enjolras probably would have laughed, but now, Grantaire’s attempt at glib just fell flat. “Grantaire—”

Grantaire ignored him. “After all, my family is too new amongst the gentry to have a motto of our own. Of course, if I ever got to pick a family motto, I’d probably choose Fidelitas usque ad mortem.”

His words were pointed, and Enjolras swallowed, hard. “Faithful until death.”

Grantaire met his gaze steadily. “And I aim to be.”

“I do not doubt that you will be,” Enjolras said quietly. “I only wish that you would consider what your loyalty will cost you.”

Grantaire reached out and took his hand. “Even if it costs me everything in this life and the next, it will be more than worth it.” He raised Enjolras’s hand to his mouth and pressed a kiss to his knuckles. “If you will have me, at least.”

Enjolras squeezed his hand, but before he could respond, the carriage jolted to a stop, and he glanced outside. “We’re home already?” he asked, somewhat surprised.

Grantaire just chuckled lightly. “One day we’ll figure out our timing,” he said before stepping out of the carriage and turning to help Enjolras down.

But Enjolras was not so willing to surrender the moment this time. As soon as his driver had left, he grabbed Grantaire’s hand, pulling him away from the lamplight at the door. “Before we go in, there’s something that I wished to say.”

“Something so secret you dare not speak it in earshot of your servants?” Grantaire asked, amused.

“Be serious,” Enjolras said with a frown.

Grantaire just smiled at him, his eyes sparkling even in the dim light. “I am wild.”

“Grantaire…”

“Fine, fine,” Grantaire said, chuckling. “What is it you wished to say?”

Enjolras took a deep breath. “Only that our time together has meant more to me than I ever thought it could. Not just our time up north, when it was just the two of us. But our time tonight as well. “

“Even when we were quarreling?” Grantaire asked.

“Especially when we were quarreling,” Enjolras said firmly. “Because our quarrel came from us wanting the best for each other.” He took both of Grantaire’s hands in his. “I do not know what the future holds, but I know that I want you in it, options be damned. Besides, with you at my side, I’m beginning to think anything is possible.”

Grantaire was quiet for a long moment before he leaned in and kissed Enjolras gently. “I may not share your belief in possibility, but I too have valued our time together,” he said softly. “It is everything I always dreamt it would be, and so much more.”

Enjolras laughed breathily. “You dismiss my belief in possibility, only to speak of dreams?”

Grantaire half-smiled. “Possibility speaks to hope,” he said with a shrug. “I never hoped my dreams would come true, though I am gladder than words can say that they have. That they are.” He squeezed Enjolras’s hands. “And who knows, you may make a believer out of me yet.”

This was Enjolras’s moment, and he took a deep breath, ready to finally say those three words he knew Grantaire wanted to hear more than anything else. “Grantaire, I—”

“Lord Enjolras?”

Enjolras could not stop the groan that escaped from his lips as he let go of Grantaire’s hands at the sound of his butler’s voice. “What is it, Porter?” he asked tiredly, taking a step towards the now-open door.

Porter cleared his throat. “Begging your pardon for the interruption,” he said, “but we’ve received word from the Marchioness.” Enjolras and Grantaire exchanged startled glances, and Porter corrected himself. “Beg pardon, the Dowager Marchioness. Your mother.”

Enjolras felt the blood drain from his face. “Christ,” he muttered. “What does she want?”

“She is planning on visiting tomorrow morning,” Porter said, glancing at Grantaire before looking back at Enjolras. “And I thought you would want to know immediately so that, ah, arrangements can be made.”

Not for the first time, Enjolras wondered how much Porter had surmised of what was going on between himself and Grantaire, and decided quickly that he cared less than making sure his mother knew absolutely nothing. “You were correct, Porter, thank you,” he said, and Porter nodded before closing the door again.

Enjolras sighed and looked back at Grantaire, but before he could say anything, Grantaire cleared his throat. “I should spend the night at mine tonight,” he said, in a tone that brooked no argument. “The last thing you need is to start your conversation with your mother with an explanation for our unusual living arrangement.”

“I know that you’re almost certainly right, but I wish to God you weren’t,” Enjolras said, reaching out to draw Grantaire close. “I need you on my side against her.”

Grantaire just laughed and tilted his head up to kiss Enjolras, a quick, fleeting kiss. “You will be fine,” he said with far more confidence than Enjolras felt. “I promise that I will be back tomorrow morning.”

“Yes, but before or after my mother leaves?” Enjolras muttered mutinously.

Grantaire laughed again and pressed one more kiss to Enjolras’s lips. “I love you,” he murmured before stepping away. “And I will see you in the morning.”

Enjolras watched him go, dreading the next morning and wishing more than anything that he had not waited until Grantaire was out of earshot to finally reply, “I love you, too.”

#exr #enjolras x grantaire #enjoltaire #enjolras #grantaire #with some Les Amis actually making a real appearance!#gasp!#les miserables #fanfiction #bridgerton au #regency au #canon era #fake marriage #developing relationship #chaptered #part 9

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imagines-by-a-typical-fangirl · 4 years ago

Text

Love On-Set (Pt. 08 of 10)

Pairing: Dacre Montgomery X Reader

Word count: 2.8 K

Summary: You knew acting on Stranger Things season 3 would be a challenge, and you also knew, from the start, you'd have to work closely with Dacre Montgomery. But is wasn't a big deal for you, since this is your job and you're determined to act professionally. You had it all figured out, or so you thought, until the moment you were out face to face with Dacre. Then, this job became a lot harder than it was supposed to be, since you can't seem to focus whenever you're around Dacre. And you'll have to be around him a lot until the end of production.

<- Previous part (07)

Next part (09) ->

{Dacre Montgomery Masterlist}

{Stranger Things Masterlist}

Sleep Talking

Giggling, you and Dacre run to the elevator, trying to catch your breaths. “Do you think they'll notice?” You ask as the doors close.

“That we're an hour and a half late?” Dacre asks, sarcastically. “I think they will. Her floor?”

“Nine.” As you speak, you press the button. “Room... 905, I guess. If I'm wrong we'll be in a very embarrassing situation.” With a smile on your lips, you step closer to Dacre, tiptoeing to place a kiss on his lips. His arms holds you close and yours find their way around his neck. “What happened at the end of the movie, by the way?”

“I have no idea. I was too busy making out with this girl, you know.” He smirks, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, really?” You were just about to kiss him again when the usual beep announces you reached the ninth floor. “Work now, kissing later. C'mon.” Taking his hand, you rush to find room 905, knocking softly just in case this is the wrong one.

But your breathe out relieved when Joe opens the door. “Look who finally decided to show up.”

“Good night, Joe.” Ignoring his comment, you walk inside, not letting go of Dacre's hand. Everyone is in position, but they're all turned at you now. “Hey, everyone.”

“Sorry. We're a little late.” Dacre says, guiding you to the middle of the living room, only letting go of your hand when he has to get to his position, next to Max and Dustin.

“Late? You're like–”

“An hour and a half late, yeah.” Cutting Gaten off, you nod. “We lost track of time.”

“That's so sweet,” Millie says, and that's when you notice she was recording this small conversation with her phone.

“Alright, can we resume this? Now that the two lovebirds are here we can get into the action scenes.” Joe claps his hands together, and they start reorganizing the scenario.

The scene they decided to go over is one where Millie will be thrown away, hitting you and making you fall with her, sliding for a couple of feet. So that's what you're into now. You get the sofa pillows and lay it on the floor to break your fall, and the plan is to find the right way to fall without making a mess. When the safety measures are taken, Millie positions herself across the living room.

“Ready?”

“Ready.” You nod, and on the next second Mille starts running, letting herself fall right before you, and she successfully kicks both your feet from under you, dragging you down with her. If it wasn't for the pillows, you both would hit the ground hard. Despite losing your breath, you laugh out loud as you stumble back to your feet. “This scene is going to be so hard to shoot.”

“My butt hurts,” Millie complains in between laughs. “I think I'll try landing on my side.”

“I'll try to hold your waist. So your weight will pull me easily.”

“Alright. Let's go!”

The action is repeated again and again, and you're having way too much fun being dragged down. You managed to hit the floor a few times when Millie pulled some pillow out of their place, but despite some pains here and there, you're fine. Soon after, you follow up with some general markings. Who stands where and who's supposed to run where, and all the interactions you'll have. It's a lot to cover, and you're a little tired, but you fight off sleep, keeping up with their pace.

But when they decide to focus on a particular scene among the kids only, you let yourself fall on the couch, and Dacre comes to sit beside you, an arm around your shoulders.

“Sleepy?” He whispers in your ear, and you snuggle closer to him, your head on his shoulder.

“Yeah, it's late.” Mumbling, you take a deep breath. Sleeping has been a little weird after you shared the bed with Dacre. You keep reminiscing that feeling, and it makes you feel terribly lonely. Cold, even. Sometimes you wonder if he ever feels the same. But you're way too shy to ask him that. “At least we only have to go to set tomorrow evening.”

“And that's why they're planning on doing that all night long.”

“What?” Bursting out, you turn to look at Dacre. “You're kidding me.”

“I swear I'm not.” He giggles at your eye roll. ”Well, it looks like they'll be doing that for a while...” Dacre gestures at the kids, and when you look, they're arguing about something, Noah and Millie with their scripts in hand, pointing at some line. “There's a sofa on the balcony we can use.”

“Please. If I get half an hour of sleep I'll be more than happy.” As soon as you're done speaking, he moves to stand up and you follow him.

“We'll get some fresh air,” Dacre says as he excuses himself, holding your hand as you make your way to the balcony. He slides the door open and gestures for you to walk out first and that's what you do. Dacre is a gentleman, Millie wasn't wrong about that, and the small details always warm up your heart.

You're happy to find that the small couch on the left corner will be shielded from their eyes by the wall. Dacre gently pulls you down when he takes a seat, and you let yourself fall with a deep breath, immediately snuggling closer, your forehead on his neck. “God, I didn't know I was this tired.” You mutter, pulling your legs up and laying them above his. Dacre's hand comes to your thigh, rubbing them softly.

“It's past midnight, I'm exhausted too.”

“Uhm... Let's sleep then.” Your voice is heavy with sleep, and your eyes are already shut.

You both fall into a gentle silence, as you fall into that funny state in between asleep and awake, where you're still somehow a little aware of your surroundings. And that means you know Dacre is holding you, making you smile. It's such an indescribable feeling. The butterflies don't seem to be sleeping at all, they still fly around your stomach, tickling your skin. It's amazing, better than being on LA, lying on the warm sand and watching the waves crashing. It's sweet and secure because you finally found someone who's not scared of what's inside, of confused, unnamed feelings. And you want him, this close, all the damn time.

“It's so weird to sleep without you.” The words leave your mouth, well, you think so at least, as you feel a warm hand rubbing the small of your back. “I feel so cold.”

“Do you want me to sleep with you?” A voice, so familiar and pleasant, speaks on your ear.

“Yeah.” You're quick to answer, the slow and steady movement of Dacre's chest rocking you to sleep.

“Hey!!” A shout makes you bolt awake, sitting up straight with your heart racing as your eyes find Millie, standing by the slide glass door. “Awn, I should've brought my phone. You look so cute.” Her voice softens as you clear your throat and stand up to your feet, still a little dizzy from sleep.

“Sometimes I wonder if your plan is to give me a heart attack.” You mutter, running a hand through your hair. “But let's go now, what's the scene we'll be doing now?”

“None. We're calling it a night.” Shrugging her shoulders, she gestures at the living room. “Almost everyone left already.”

“Oh, that's great!” You breathe out as Dacre stands up as well, taking your hand in his. “As you can see I'm super tired so I'll just head to bed.”

“Alright, but tomorrow at ten be back here,” Millie says as the three of you walk back inside. “I want you to perform the kissing scene.” There's a smirk on her voice, despite her back being turned at you as she makes her way to the door.

“Why?”

“Well, we gotta go over the scenes to make it right, haven't we?” Turning on her heels, she gives you a wicked smile.

“Well...” Mimicking her voice you smirk right back at her. “We have been kissing a lot so we kinda know how to do it, right, Dacre?”

At the mention of his name, he hugs you from behind, arms around your waist. “Absolutely.”

Millie rolls her eyes dramatically. She loves to tease, but she wasn't expecting you to snap back. “Alright, you two. Have a good night.”

“Good night.” Once you reach the hall, you take different directions since the elevator on the East side will leave her a lot closer to her room.

You and Dacre keep a slow pace, and you cover your mouth when a yawn comes. “I'll set my alarm to 9:45 tomorrow. I'll wake up, shower, and head back here.” Running a hand through your hair, you step in when the doors finally open. You both move at the same time to press the button, and Dacre gives you a look when you press 19. “What?”

“I was thinking that maybe we could...” His voice fades as he looks down at his feet.

“Tell me.” Stepping closer, you wrap your arms around his neck. “What were you thinking about?”

“Maybe we could sleep together. Like in the trailer.”

Oh. So he was thinking about that too... Right? Blushing a little, it's your time to avoid his gaze, shifting your weight from one leg to another. “Uhm, I... I would like that, but I'm so tired I don't think I'll be able to chat as we did in the trailer.” That's a stupid thing to say, you know it, but Dacre has this way to make you feel nervous, and you're not the smartest person on Earth when you're nervous. “But... Why this proposition now?”

“You kinda talk on your sleep and–”

“No, I don't.” Cutting him off, you step back, hands on your hips. “I absolutely do not and I forbid you to listen if I ever do, Mr. Montgemery.”

“Been a while since you called me that.” In a quick motion, he ends the small distance between you two, his arms pulling you close and his lips chasing yours. And despite the beep announcing that the doors are opening, you surrender to the kiss, lips moving together, as you both stumble out of the elevator.

“Alright, alright.” You exclaim when your hip hits one of the sideboards scattered around the halls. “Lead the way, Mr. Montgomery because I'm just about to faint of exhaustion.”

And so he does, never letting go of your hand. You can't help but feel a little nervous about this whole thing, almost to the point of finding an excuse and heading to your room. But you try to keep it cool, walking in, eyes immediately falling on the amazing view Dacre has from his balcony. “I'm still envious about the view you have here. It's the best. The only reason why I won't rant about it is because I'm tired.” Ignoring his giggle as he closes the door shut, you start making the way to his bedroom. “But just so you know, the first thing I'll do when I wake up is complain about why my room isn't facing this way. So brace yourself.”

“I would switch rooms with you, if only you ask.” Dacre reaches you when you get to the door, an arm hugging your waist. “Or just...” His voice fades as you both step inside. Turning on your heels, still in his embrace, you try to push tiredness back and understand whatever he means.

“Just what?” You watch as he closes the door silently. Dacre can be shy sometimes, mostly when he doesn't know if you will be comfortable with something, and when it happens, you always make sure to show him you want to know what it is. Even though this is not an official relationship yet, it does feel like it, and you're trying your best not to ruin it. To be honest and make everything work out.

“Maybe you could stay here.” The words finally come out, and you bite your lip as a little battle starts inside your heart. You do want to be around him as much as you can, but maybe it's too soon. Maybe this level of intimacy could break you apart before you even start. “I mean, there is only a couple of weeks left. Only the Battle of Starcourt scenes so... I just thought it could be nice.”

The fact is that you're always either here with him, or he's in your room. You only separate when it's time to sleep, so maybe this makes sense... And if it backfires, it means it was never supposed to be. Your mother told you to be brave, and don't let the anxiety and the habit of overthinking keep you from being around someone you love. “I agree...” Nodding, you look down. “I would be nice. But only–” Walking backward towards the bed, you point out at him. “–if we binge-watch The Office tomorrow.”

“Wasn't the plan to wake up fifteen minutes before ten and rush back to Natalia's?”

“Oh.” It completely slipped your mind. “Then we'll binge watch it whenever we can. Deal?”

“Deal.”

• • •

The Battle of Starcourt is way more complicated than you thought. The fact that you spent a lot of time with the guys preparing for it doesn't help much. James makes several changes and several takes, and more and more days pass by. You've been sleeping on the trailers since it's a lot easier to come and go from the set.

Today, you're super tired, drinking on another RedBull can, hoping it'll keep you awake for a while longer. It's almost three in the morning, and there's no sign of an ending in the next hours at least. Resting your back against the wall, you watch Noah and Gaten play thumb war, as you wait for the director to call you into the scene again.

“How many did you had already?” Millie asks, gesturing at your can.

“Third.”

“Fifth.” Says Joe, raising his can from his place, seated on the floor some feet away. “But this thing isn't working. Still feel like I'll fall asleep any moment now.”

“If anyone falls asleep, I'll be following shortly after,” Natalia says and you giggle.

“He's changing the lightning. Again.” Dacre mutters as he stands beside you. The mall is colored in pinkish, purple, and some blue lights. It makes everything beautiful, and you took too many pictures already, alone, with Dacre, and with the rest of the crew. But the bad thing is that the low lights aren't helping with your sleep at all. “He's obsessed with the lightning.” Dacre's voice is heavy too, and you can tell he's as tired as you are.

“When we get back to the hotel I'll–”

“Alright, everyone. Let's go!” James calls and you set in motion, drinking what's left in your can before placing it down on a table and following the others.

You take your place among the kids, under a fake wall that fell, kneeled down, you wait for the sign for the scene to start. Dacre is across the area, waiting for his cue too.

“Let's try to get this done in this shot, guys!” As he speaks, the smoke starts building up, and a lot of lights go on as some others go off. “Alright. And action!”

Millie starts running, coming from one the halls, straight across the open area, jumping on the fountain, and then at the ground again. Behind her, some explosions happen, right on the marks where the Mind Flayer will step on. Millie basically throws herself on the floor, a few feet away from where you are with the kids, sliding until the half safety the fallen wall provides. You see as Finn holds her, making sure to keep the act, with a scared, anxious expression on your face.

“Steve! Now!” Gaten yells, and you watch as Joe comes into the scene, followed by a bigger explosion, so louder than expected that everyone, you included, is startled.

Something goes flying into the air, and you're fairly aware of something coming your way, but when you squint your eyes to try and see better, you notice it's too close now, and before you can raise your arms to protect yourself, you're hit by something in the face, a loud noise filling your ears as the pain spreads through your skull. You feel the metal thing flying past you, and some the guys yell too.

With a hand covering your right cheek, you hear as James ends the scene, but it's hard to bring sense to anybody's words right now, not when your hand is getting wet by what could only be blood. You try stumbling to your feet, ignoring the commotion around you, but when the whole place spins around, you fall back to the floor, closing your eyes shut.

@baker151910 @shinydixon @dreamin-of-dacre @hanoi15 @lickmymelaninn @foccus @multific @uncookspaget @kellysimagines @peakascum @thisbreakableheaven

#dacre montgomery x reader #dacre montgomery imagine #dacre montgomery fanfiction #imagine dacre montgomery #dacre montgomery #imagine billy hargrove #billy hargove x reader #stranger things imagine #imagine stranger things

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azurethevampire · 3 years ago

Text

I Will Give You A Reason

A/N: Set in season 6, episodes 2-3 (I think at least it was those episodes xD) This piece is quite angst-filled one, so prepare yourself with tissues if you have to. If there is any mistakes to the few words/sentences of Swedish used in this, they are entirely my own as that isn't my strongest foreign language and I didn't use a translator. Also this was written about a year ago when I watched True Blood for the first time.

Fandom: True Blood

Summary: Emily and Pam have searched for Eric across the world. When they finally find the 1,000 years old viking vampire from France Emily's already shattered world seems to turn into dust: Eric, her rock, her best friend, the only father she's ever had, is sick.

Characters: Eric Northman, Pamela Swynford de Beaufort, Emily Northman (oc)

Words: 2736

•-•-•-•-•

"Pam, you have to eat."

You don't look like yourself, she wanted to add but stopped herself just in time. The vampire had been snappier for a few days now and Emily didn't want to make her mad at her. Not that she believed that Pam would really hurt her, even in anger. She had never done so after that one time and that had been when Emily was six and she hadn't known when to keep her mouth shut.

Well, maybe she still didn't know when to keep her mouth shut —but she was better than ten years ago!

Pam turned to look at the teenager—No. The young woman, that Emily had blossomed into in the last months despite that the world seemed to grow shittier every fucking day. Perhaps that was the reason why. Emily had lost that soft roundness on her face and her eyes were tired, dark bags under her eyes. Her clothes hung on her, and Pam, for a brief moment, wondered when was the last time the human herself had eaten.

"I'm not hungry."

Emily resisted the urge to roll her eyes, instead, she sat down on the only chair in the motel room they were in. "Snälla, Pam. You could at least stop lying to me about it - I'm not blind!"

Pam was about to snap something back, but instead, her hand reached the doorknob. But before she left the room she turned to face Emily again. "If I can't find anything tonight, I'll feed on you tomorrow, I promise. Stay here, don't open the door to anyone and don't invite anyone in."

Emily let Pam say those words the vampire had said every night although the girl is tired of hearing them night after night. But it seemed to help Pam, to get to remind her of those small yet so trivial rules. So Emily's "I know" echoed in the empty vampire-friendly motel room after Pam had left and closed the door behind her.

Her eyes spotted the room key left on the small cracked table near the door. In the first months of their search, Pam locked Emily in but lately, the vampire had not taken the keys with her at all.

And because of that Emily knew that Pam was starting to become suicidal in their search for Eric.

•-•-•-•-•

“I think I found him.”

Pam has never - as far as Emily’s memory goes back - sounded more… excited? Happy? No, that is not the right word and she knew that. Pam’s voice was flat, she tried to hide the hope that had filled her but Emily felt it. It radiated off Eric’s first progeny and she couldn’t help it; for the first time in months, Emily dared to let herself hope too.

But there was something else she sensed from Pam. She was sad too, and that made the girl swallow. “But?” When did my voice start to sound so weak? So small?

Pam’s next words killed something inside of her.

“Tara is dead. I felt it.”

What felt like minutes passed and Emily couldn’t say anything, couldn’t move from her spot. Pam was still but there was no denying the glint in her eyes. Emily and Pam had never been the type to coddle each other. Never.

Still, Emily raised up in her bed anyway, took the few short steps it took to reach the vampire, who had been her only family for six months now, and she wrapped her arms around her, swallowing and blinking back the tears she felt coming.

“I’m so sorry, Pam.”

And Pam - beautiful, bad-ass, smart Pam - returned the young woman’s embrace, letting bloody tears run freely, staining Emily’s shirt with red.

•-•-•-•-•

The plane landed in France the same evening - Pam in a coffin in the cargo hold.

They flew to the villa in France. Pam had told Emily that she and Eric used to live here before they were forced to go to Shreveport.

She could see why the two vampires had chosen this place to reside in — even in the night, the garden surrounding the sand-coloured walls of the large building was breathtakingly beautiful.

Emily had more pressing matters though than to watch the sights. She could feel him. First time in over six months, Emily felt Eric. That familiar flare that had so long been gone from inside her, burned again. No. Not completely familiar. There was no doubt that the vampire she felt was indeed Eric Northman. But his life force, which had always been so strong… it cracked. Like old dry cement.

Something is wrong, Emily thought as she followed Pam inside, to a spiral staircase going down, down, down.

Emily swallowed. She had a bad feeling. Very bad feeling - and god, she wished she was wrong. She begged to be wrong. That there was simply something wrong with her own powers, and not something wrong with her Eric.

Wishful thinking, foolish thinking, she knew. Knew because she had felt this same feeling before over the past months - recently more often than she would have wanted to.

Emily and Pam started to make their way down the stairs, and Emily - her chest tightened in pain.

Two youngish and beautiful women met the vampire and the empath on the stairs. One of them said something in French. Emily couldn't understand, she had never bothered learning French. Maybe sometime during 'forever' — she had used to think that. Not anymore, not for a long time now.

She didn't know what the French woman said but she did feel their emotions. Confusion. Betrayal. Hurt. Confusion.

The final round of the spiral and Pam and Emily saw the room.

As soon as Emily's eyes fell on him, she felt her heart tighten. She had thought she had felt pain last night when Tara died the true death. She had been wrong.

Nothing she had ever felt compared to the heart-wrenching, punch-in-the-gut pain that crashed over her like a hurricane when the dark veins creeping up her guardian's chest, the meaning of them, finally hit her.

And even though her legs felt like boiled spaghetti, Emily forced herself to step closer to Eric. Eric who was sick. He can't be! He's Eric for fuck's sake! But he could be, and he was. "No" pushed through her lips, past the lump in her throat, the word sounding broken.

And Eric.

Eric Northman's eyes switched from his first progeny to his human equivalent to a daughter. "You found me."

“How long?” Pam asked the question that burned on Emily’s mind too. It seemed that Eric was still in the first stage of the Hep-V virus but she knew that that didn’t mean anything. Not because she didn’t know how long Eric had been sick. He could have months left with proper blood sources but then again, if the disease got worse, he could only have days.

The tall blonde vampire didn’t answer, not right away. He almost looked like he was about to fall asleep. Hot tears began to blind the teenager’s vision as she grabbed his hand in hers. His hand had always been cold. Cooling touch relieving to Emily. Eric’s hand was warm now. This is wrong! Emily’s mind screamed at her.

“Eric?”

“Can you repeat the question?”

And those words that seemed so meaningless, so genuinely apologetic, were the words that sent Emily’s tears falling from her eyes.

“How long have you been sick?” And Emily heard in Pam’s voice that she was crying too.

“Saw the first signs last month”, Eric said and not once in the time Emily had known Eric had he sounded so weak. So tired.

“When you were in St. Petersburg”, Emily heard herself say. She and Pam had tracked Eric there - Pam cursing all of the time they were in Russia, how she hated the Russians with her gut.

Something flickered in Eric’s blue, tired eyes. And even though faint, Emily felt the emotion: surprise. And even if the situation they are in, is fucked beyond belief, the young woman of seventeen found herself smiling, just the tiniest bit. Because one didn’t sneak up on Eric Northman that easily.

“Don’t act all surprised”, Pam said behind Emily. “We searched the whole fucking planet for you - St. fucking Petersburg, Eric? You know how I hate the Russian people.”

“Well, I didn’t know you two were gonna come looking for me”, Eric said, eyes moving to Emily whose eyes squinted slightly.

“Then you were an idiot”, Emily said in Swedish. Another small wave of surprise from Eric. Emily continued. “Why did you keep moving then?”

“Yes, I want to know the answer to that as well”, Pam said crossing her arms.

Eric chuckled, although it awfully sounds like a mix of a chuckle and a cough. Too rough, Emily thought.

“Congratulations, Pam, Emmy-”, and Emily’s eyes were burning with unshed tears again because it had been so long that she had heard that nickname from Eric. “You have outwitted me.” His hand raised to touch Emily’s cheek. “But only because I’m not well.”

Pam told about Tara, but to Emily’s confusion, Eric didn’t offer words of comfort, didn’t say he was sorry to hear that. Instead, he asked about a stupid bucket game he played in Marocco - the same game Pam had played last night to get the information of Eric’s location.

“Oh… I liked the bucket game.”

And Pam was about to snap, she already took steps forward, but Emily beat the vampire to it.

“What is wrong with you?! You are Eric fucking Northman!” her hands balled to fists, the tears in her eyes no longer coming out of sadness, but anger. “You don’t give up. You fight!”

“Fight’s over, Emily.”

“This can’t all be about Sylvie.”

Emily didn’t know who Sylvie was. But she knew that Eric giving up like this couldn’t be just because of one person.

“Godric”, Eric stated. “Nora.” Emily felt a tug of pain in her chest, partly her own, partly the vampire’s whose hand she still held in hers. “And yes, Sylvie too.”

And Pam’s next question made Emily’s heart skip a beat, two beats. Because she had never, even in her wildest worst-case scenarios, thought about that. Not until Pam put that idea in her head when she asked: “Did you contract the virus on purpose?”

Eric wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t do something so… he wouldn’t! but despite her thoughts, Emily couldn’t have said why she was suddenly so afraid of his answer.

“On purpose? No-” Eric said, shaking his head a little, and Emily felt a relieved breath leave her. “But did I go about my dealings with a devil-may-care attitude? Absolutely.”

“Damn you!” Emily snapped, but then she burst into tears. She was exhausted - she hadn’t slept since Marocco and even there it was just a few hours -, and the only thing that had kept her from having a break-down had been hope. Hope that she would see Eric again soon. But this reunion had not been the relief she had waited for. She was glad to see him again, but a small part of her wished they never would have found him.

Because now, she was afraid. More afraid than she had ever been in her entire life - and that was saying something after the torture Edgington had put her through two years ago.

Eric tried to reach for the girl, but Emily turned away, scooting back in the chair so she sat by his legs. She pulled her knees up, hugged herself tightly and buried her face in her knees as sobs racked her whole body. She was barely aware that Pam had sat on Eric’s other side, trying to reason with him.

“Don’t do this to us”, Emily heard Pam start sobbing and she turned her head, just enough that she could see Eric and her again - and she didn’t want to. She really didn’t but she still reached out with her hand, and her fingers - still so small and slim in comparison - wrapped around Eric’s large hand the best they could. “Please, Eric…”, Emily sobbed, too.

“God damn you!” Pam cursed.

“For more than 1,000 years, the world has been my oyster”, Eric said.

“And it still can be”, Pam argued. “I’ll do anything.” Emily squeezed Eric’s hand. Me too. I would do anything for you. She wanted to say but the words refused to leave her.

“I’ve lost my taste for oysters, Pam.”

“Then find it again.” Emily’s voice came out harsher than she intended and she gained Eric and Pam’s attention. Wiping her face with the back of her hand, she uncurled herself from her position. “Du lovade mig”, Emily said in Swedish, desperately, and her voice was thick with emotion.

Something in Eric’s eyes shifted. Turned softer and sad. “I know I did, sweetheart, but the world has changed since then.” He grabbed Emily’s wrist and pulled her towards him - and even sick, Emily found out that Eric was still so much stronger than she was. She was only human after all - even if it was with a little something extra. Eric’s feelings were clear and honest at his next words as his hand rested on the side of Emily’s face, thumb lightly brushing away her tears.

“My sweet little Emily”, Eric whispered, his lips forming a quick smile, sad and warm at the same time. “You are gonna go out there. You are gonna grow up to be a beautiful, smart woman, go to some stupid fucking university and find yourself a good, loving human husband. You’re going to have kids and you will tell them stories about their 1,000 years old vampire grandfather… and you will be happy… Do you understand?”

Emily swallowed, her hand raising on top of Eric’s now-wrong-temperature hand. She only barely managed to croak out the tiniest of “yes”. Even though she knew she would not do any of that.

“You should go. Both of you.”

Pam was crying but she was the first to rise from beside Eric and start to walk towards the staircase.

This is wrong! Emily’s mind screamed as she rose. Virus or no virus Eric was not just any other vampire - he was Eric! 1,000 years old vampire and a viking! Vikings had not just sat down and waited for death to come collect them! At least Emily didn’t think so. No. Vikings, they avenged. Just like Eric had avenged his human family only seven or so months ago.

As his last act… Emily felt no guilt of thinking about this at that moment, no guilt about throwing someone else’s life to a path to death - as far as she was concerned the other person deserved it.

As his last act before true death, Eric Northman could take revenge against the person who did this to him.

“Sarah Newlin”, Emily said, turning back to face Eric again. Out of the corner of her eyes, she saw Pam turn on her heels a glint of surprise and (oh that traitorous) hope in her eyes.

“What about her?” Eric asked, his eyes closed.

“What if I told you that Jason Stackhouse let her live.”

Eric’s eyes opened, his voice hardened. “He didn’t.”

“He did”, Pam said, catching on to Emily’s plan. “And she’s out there.”

“Where?”

“No one’s seen her”, Emily said.

“I have to imagine she’s in hiding somewhere”, Pam offered.

Emily saw Eric’s jaw clench. Then… then, with what seemed like a heavy effort, Eric pushed himself up in the chair and slowly, slower than Emily was used to seeing the vampire’s motions - Eric Northman stood in front of her, grasping her shoulder, as his eyes once again roamed between his girls.

“Well, let’s go find her.”

Emily wasn’t naive. She knew that Eric was still dying, but at least now he wouldn’t just sit down here and wait for it. He would go down fighting.

Just like he had taught her was the right way to go.

Just like the viking he was supposed to be - just like Eric fucking Northman was supposed to fight.

So, yes, Eric was still dying but at least now - and maybe it was selfish to think that way, but Emily didn’t find it in herself to care - Emily had a few more days to spend with the man who had taken her in as if she was his progeny instead of some orphan human child with empath powers.

#true blood #true blood fic #eric northman #pamela swynford de beaufort #oc #eric northman fic #my writing #my fic #true blood oc #oc: emily northman #angst fic

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midnightsnyx · 4 years ago

Text

Consequences - Matthew Tkachuk: part 8

summary: you absolutely hate Matthew Tkachuk so it’s just your luck when you wind up pregnant with his child.

here is it! the last part! please let me know if its too corny lol. epilogue will be posted either this week or next.

couples notes: 1. i don’t know anything about childbirth aside from what google taught me so i apologize for any wrong info! 2. i’m sorry this story was pretty short lol ya girl is doing the best i can😅 3. i wanna throw a couple quick thanks now and then the rest when i post the epilogue.

first of all i wanna send a thank you to @hannahmb who let me bounce ideas off her, gave me feedback, listened to me complain about not knowing where to go with the chapters and also, helped name baby tkachuk! so thank you hannah! you rock 🖤

i wanna thank @notanotherhockeyblog95 for also listening to me whine about not knowing what to write 😂 also, for giving me loads of encouragement and letting me throw ideas at her! you’re the best!!🖤

anyways here’s part 8! i hope you guys like it and thanks again for reading<3

word count: 2.3k

warnings: none

Part 8

41 weeks

“Matty. Wake up.” You whisper, shaking his shoulder in attempt to wake him. He doesn’t budge so you pull the blankets off him in hopes that it might work but again, he doesn’t move. It’s quite disappointing considering you’re now five days past your due date and if you were in labor, he won’t wake. Luckily, Chantal is sleeping just down the hall. After many conversations, you and Matthew agreed that it was probably a good idea to have her stay with the two of you in case you were to go in labor while Matt was playing a game. Yes, you had friends around but it comforted you much more having Chantal here because she’s went through this before.

With one last look at Matt, you roll out of bed and waddle like a duck, because that’s what you looked like according to Matt and Brady, to the kitchen. You were trying to wake Matt up because you felt like a snack but you didn’t feel like getting out of bed.

You’re digging through the freezer for some ice-cream you’re sure Brady had bought when he last visited when you feel the first cramp. It’s a little uncomfortable but you’ve been having some braxton hicks contractions on and off over the past few weeks, some feeling real enough that you went to the hospital only to be sent home which was very embarrassing even though Chantal told you it happens all the time. It wasn’t exactly the fact that you got sent home that you felt embarrassed about, but that Matthew left practice because he thought you were in labor. You just thanked your lucky stars that it wasn’t while he was in the middle of a game because it would’ve been ten times worse.

So you brush it off, cheering silently when you find the tub of chocolate ice-cream, idly wondering if it’s weird to eat it in bed at three o’clock in the morning. You decide it’s not, walking back to the bedroom and crawling in bed. You sit up against the headboard and grab the PS4 controller so you can put Netflix on since you know you won’t be falling asleep any time soon.

Matt rolls over and throws and arm over your legs and nuzzling his face in your side halfway through an episode of Grey’s Anatomy. It’s gives your belly a weird feeling again, not pain this time but something else. Something a little unsettling because you haven’t felt this particular feeling in quite some time.

You’re pretty sure you’re in love with Matt which makes you equally frightened as it does happy. You’ve realized that your hatred for him stemmed from that one night when he did something to make you angry when your breakup with your ex was so fresh and you were emotionally vulnerable.

Just like Johnny had told Matt good things about you, he’s mentioned things about Matt to you, obviously in hopes that the two of you would hit it off. It gave you a little hope that despite what you had heard from some of the girls, he wasn’t that bad of a guy which you know is true now.

Your only problem now is that you have no idea how strong his feelings are for you. Part of you is afraid that what he does feel is only from seeing you carrying his child. You know what he told you at the baby shower, that he liked you since you met but you still can’t shake the feeling that maybe what he feels for you might just be temporary.

That one day he’s going to wake up and decide that he doesn’t want you the way he does now and it breaks your heart thinking about it.

“You’re crying.” Matt mumbles and you look down to see him now wide awake. “What’s wrong?”

You didn’t realize that you were crying and you can’t wait for the day when everything doesn’t make you cry like a baby.

“I’m fine.” You say, swiping the tears away. “It’s the show.” This is a lie because you haven’t been paying attention to the show for about five minutes.

He looks at the TV and then looks back at you with an eyebrow raised. “It’s a sex scene. Something you been wanting to tell me?”

He has a tiny smirk on his face and it’s temping, it really is, but you shake your head and try to come up with some other excuse.

“My ice-cream melted.”

“Do you want more?” He frowns, sitting up and it drives you insane sometimes, how willing he is to do anything for you at any given time.

“No, I just -” you sigh, putting the tub on the night table. “I’m tired.”

You know it’s a lie and so does he but he doesn’t push like he normally would. You let him tug you down so you’re laying on your side and he’s wrapped around you, hand resting on your belly and face tucked in your neck.

“What about Jasper?” He whispers and you smile.

“I like it.” You tell him and he nods.

“We’ll put it on the list.”

. . .

It’s later that evening and you’ve been having what you’re telling yourself are braxton hicks contractions all day. You refuse to go back to the hospital already because you know you’ll just get sent home again. Besides, Matty has a game tonight and you’re determined to go because it’s the last game of the season. The Flames won’t make the playoff’s this year and you know Matt is upset about it but he said that what’s more important is that he’ll be here for when and after the baby is born.

His words made you fall in love with him a little more.

You and Chantal arrived at the arena early enough that you can go down to see Matt while she finds your seats. You text him when you’re outside the locker doors and he looks happy when he walks out to see you. You can see the hint of disappointment that tonight is the last game until next season but he smiles at you anyway.

“How’s Jasper?” He asks, resting a hand on your stomach.

“I don’t remember agreeing to that name.” You tease and he shrugs.

“Jasper Tkachuk. Has a nice ring to it.” He says, giving you a soft smile. He looks like he wants to say something else but somebody yells his name and you know he has to go.

He smiles apologetically. “I’ll come find you after the game.”

You nod, letting him kiss you before heading back to the locker room. You find your way to Chantal in the stands, trying to ignore the way the braxton hicks contractions won’t go away. There’s a small part of you that knows you shouldn’t be brushing them off but now really isn’t the time for you to go into labor.

You can’t hide the winces from Chantal though because halfway through the first period, she frowns.

“How long have you been having them?”

You wince when another one washes through you. It’s much closer to the last one.

“Since this morning?”

“Y/N.” She scolds gently but firmly.

“It’s his last game! I don’t want to miss it.”

“Honey, you’re in labor.”

When those words leave Chantal’s mouth, it feels like somebody smacked you because it’s suddenly so real.

“C’mon. Let’s get to the hospital.” She says, helping you out of your seat.

“Matt-”

“We’ll get a message to him.” she assures you. “he won’t miss it.”

. . .

As you watch the game from your hospital bed, Chantal paces around the room on her phone trying to talk to someone who can get a message to Matt.

Your water broke shortly after you and Chantal arrived at the hospital and you know how quickly things can progress so you’re terrified that he won’t make it in time. You know that it’s something that the two of you had talked about early on, in the case that he was on a road trip and wouldn’t be here but knowing that he is here but you can’t get a hold of him, is hard.

“I know it’s an unusual situation.” Chantal snaps. “Figure it out.”

When she ends the call, she sighs and presses a hand to her forehead. You know how stressed she is about the situation but when she turns to you, there’s a gentle smile on her face.

“He’ll be here.”

You admire her attempt at trying to reassure you but you know that you need to get yourself in a good mindset to be okay if he’s not here.

“Did you call Becca?” You ask, hoping for at least some good news.

“Yes, she’s on her way.”

A little bit of good news. Finally.

You start to ask if she’s called anyone else but a nurse comes in the room to check you. When she tells you it shouldn’t be much longer, your heart sinks, realizing that Matt’s probably not going to make it here in time.

“I just got word that Matthew Tkachuk will be out for the rest of the game.” you hear Elliotte Friedman say and your head snaps up. You forgot that the TV was still on and it’s now intermission. “I didn’t see him get injured during the game, Chris. Did you?”

“No, and he didn’t take any major penalties. Maybe we missed something.”

Your heart leaps when you realize that he’s probably left the game because someone got the message through to him and you’re proven right when your phone buzzes and his name appears on the screen.

“Matty.”

“Hey, baby.” he says in a rushed voice. “I’m on my way to the hospital, okay?”

“Yeah?” You sniffle, knowing you’re going to cry.

“Yeah.” He promises. “Fifteen minutes, okay?”

He stays on the phone with you until he reaches the hospital and even until he reaches your room.

He takes Chantal’s place on the chair next to your bed as soon as he walks in.

“Ready?” He asks, taking one of your hands in his and pressing his lips to it.

“Not really.” You joke, trying to lighten the mood because you’re scared out of your mind. Your entire life is about to change but when you look at Matt sitting next to you, eyes kind and warm and with the smile on his face, you know you can do just about anything with him by your side.

. . .

“I guess we need to pick a name now, huh?” Matt whispers, cradling the baby in his arms. He was natural from the moment he held him and it was like your heart exploded. If you thought you loved Matt before, you know that you love him now.

“What about Henry?” You ask, watching him walk around, bouncing the baby gently.

His mouth turns up in a tiny smile. “I love it.” Then he looks up at you and tilts his head a little as if he’s coming to a realization.

“What?”

He shrugs, looking back down at Henry before walking over and sitting on the bed next to you. He lets you take the baby out of his arms so you can nurse him.

“I just realized something.”

“And what’s that?” You ask, raising an eyebrow when he smiles.

“I love you.” He says easily and when your eyes start watering, he just laughs gently. “I love you so much it’s crazy.”

“Really?” You ask and he nods.

“Really.” He grins and you can’t help but laugh when he pulls his phone out of his pocket and waves it in the air.

“Now, shall we make this Instagram official?” He asks and you roll your eyes fondly.

“You’re such a dork.”

“But you love me.” He says and you smile, pulling him close enough so that you can kiss him.

“I really do.”

#matthew tkachuk imagine #matthew tkachuk fanfiction #matthew tkachuk #hockey imagine #hockey imagines #matthew tkachuk imagines #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #calgary flames imagines #calgary flames fanficton

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barnesbabee · 4 years ago

Text

terra || S.M || J.Y

Summary: After destroying the Earth the human race has to face their biggest threat yet: themselves.

Pairing: Jeong Yunho x Song Mingi

Words: wouldn’t you like to know weather boy

Genre: Miscellaneous

⚠ dystopian!au, mentions of war, violence, mxm ⚠

A/N: Yes I’m back, there will be a part 2 to this, first time doing mxm if someone comes at me with their high morals I’ll just tell you to suck my left nut <3 also this is loosely based on The100 (the second picture is Sanctum lol), it’s based on seasons 1 and 2 (mount weather) I hope you enjoy it please reblog and give me feedback!!

ᴄʀ: ʙᴀʀɴᴇꜱʙᴀʙᴇᴇ

[PART 1] || [PART 2]

The heat and natural catastrophes started rising as the years passed, and all of the nations in the world reunited the greatest people in their country to secretly come up with a solution to the world’s end. Bunkers, artificial planets, space stations… Everything was discussed with great detail, but there seemed to be no answer.

Bunkers? How long would the human race have to last in a bunker? Wouldn’t there be a lack of resources? Would the bunkers survive the threats they would be facing?

There wasn’t enough time to think about an artificial planet, let alone begin to conceive one.

A space station would have the same problems as a bunker would, with the additional problems of constantly fixing the spaceship with the few resources the race would be able to take with them.

So, in pure despair, a german scientist blurted out what would become the savior to their lives: cryo sleep.

And so after nearly a day of being stuck in the stuffy, stress-filled room the crowd of geniuses and world leaders and began working on the salvation of the human race.

There wouldn’t be enough space for everyone in the spaceships they’d create, as a matter of fact, why would there be? One would not want to re-populate the earth with the people who destroyed it… So each government made a list, of scientists, biologists, farmers, doctors… Everyone deemed essential for survival on earth.

The spaceships would be launched out in space all at the same time, however, every 100 years one would be awoken and would descend down to earth. If it was survivable, they would contact the other spaceships through the communication systems implemented on each ship, if not, they would die and the next ship would come 100 years after.

And once everything was done and ready to go, a new uproar started.

Who would board the first ships, which were, undoubtedly, the most dangerous? How would the groups be divided?

“The Russians are not boarding after us. What gives them the right!? Are the lives of the Americans less worth it!?”

Profanities and insults echoed around the gigantic, Victorian room. The delicately sculpted walls and columns, carefully painted high ceilings and classic decorations certainly didn’t match the lack of respect and class of nearly every man and woman present.

It seemed impossible to reach a consent. Some leaders wanted a spaceship for their people only, as they thought it would agree easily since their mindsets were very similar, and the chances of disagreement would be less. However, others debated that it would be better to have a mixture of knowledge and ways of thinking from different regions.

Nonetheless, the wiser populations created an alliance whilst all of them discussed loudly, deciding to leave the most problematic nations go in the first ship. If they didn’t agree they simply wouldn’t board.

There were twelve ships on what became the Mission Restituimus. Iwen Restituimus, Helles Restituimus, Mosco Restituimus, Quitela Restituimus, Arak Restituimus, Champa Restituimus, Beerus Restituimus and Liquir Restituimus. Each of them named after each of the gods of destruction, as a punishment, as a reminder of what they had previously caused. Destruction upon Earth.

And so, as cruel as it might have been, all of the leaders and people chosen to go boarded the ships, leaving the rest of the world to die without any help.

A couple of years past and most of the remaining humans were wiped out. The water level rose, the plants died, and consequently so did the animals. With the lack of food and hydration, the race became weaker, and the last heatwave sent whatever was left of them to a better place.

100 years passed… 200 years passed… 300 years past…

25% of what was left of humanity was wiped out almost instantly as they set foot on the ground. Some being able to survive a couple of days, some a couple of weeks… It wasn’t until Mosco R. that there was a chance for humans.

They were alive long enough to determine what wasn’t right with the atmosphere around them and what could possibly be harmful, so they could find a way around it. Months had passed and the crew, that stood on the reviving planet in good health, and they still hadn’t called the rest of the ships.

People started wondering why the assigned captain of the team hadn’t made that decision yet.

“Dr. Vorderbruggen, I feel it is safe for us to call the rest of us down onto Earth.” One of the many geologists aboard asked.

The tall, skinny woman with permanently disheveled hair took a good look at the male and pushed her thick glasses up her nose.

“What if we didn’t?”

All of the heads present in the room turned to face her in confusion. The woman pulled out a book. One that seemed to have had a life as rough as theirs. She threw it in the middle of the makeshift table they had in the small, unstable shed outside of the spaceship.

They all looked at it for a second before looking at her, as if saying ‘are we supposed to know by looking at it?’.

She smirked before speaking, creating an eerie atmosphere that made most of the present people quite uncomfortable.

“How would you like to have an infinite life?”

There was an immediate split reaction in the crowd. Some looked on, interested, and others were reluctant about her words.

“I had previously been researching a way for humans to live longer, but then the Earth was destroyed. However this past month I’ve been studying it relentlessly and I believe I found a way to keep our conscience alive and our hearts beating forever.”

Silence.

The silence in the room was heavy. Playing with human life and modifying it was dangerous…

“But, the bodies… What about the bodies? They’ll get older and eventually rot, won’t they?”

The scientist walked away from the chair and circled the red button that allowed them to communicate with the other ships with her slim finger.

“That’s where our colleagues enter. We can’t call them yet because we’ll need their bodies. I’m working on finding out how but I’m so, so close. Of course, I’ll need the help of others and it needs some perfecting and some extra details, but it’s doable. Definitely doable.”

The geologist that had initially asked looked around. He couldn’t believe people were actually considering taking other people’s bodies for their own sake....

“But Doctor, won’t that have moral implications? It’s the lives of other people! We can’t kill them for our lives to be perpetuated!”

She looked towards the man threateningly.

“Dr. Bankole, what caused the last world to collapse?”

The man hesitated.

“Uneducated individuals.” He answered, confidently.

“Our differences. It was our differences, the divergent ways in which we were raised. There won’t ever be any differences if we maintain our people. There won’t be any wars, there won’t be any conflicts, and we can rebuild our planet. The more people we welcome, the more chance there will be for our demise to begin once more.”

The geologist refused to accept it. He took a couple of seconds to process her words, before launching himself towards the button in a fit of desperation. The doctor tried his best to save humanity, but unfortunately the crowd who agreed with the woman held him down. She smirked, knowing that her plan would be followed along.

And so it was. For hundreds and hundreds of years the bodies of the crews who arrived down on Earth would be replaced with theirs. Anyone who disagreed with the plan was executed on sight, as they couldn’t afford to have any conflicts at this point.

The new ships who arrived on Earth would always be confused. There were humans? So why hadn’t they been called? But of course, the residents would tell them that there was a malfunction in the system, and before the newcomers could question it or find out about the truth their bodies would be taken to what they called ‘The Ceremony’.

This went on for centuries and centuries on end, each passing year humanity became more robotic and synthetic. That was, until Liquir Restitiumus: the very last one.

It came down through the sky loudly, ripping through the atmosphere with immense force. The thrusters cause the small particles of dirt and little bits of rocks to disperse underneath the machine, and, when it finally landed with a violent ‘thud’, the crew stepped out. They all had their fingers crossed, as they didn’t want to be the only ones there. They wished more of them had survived.

“Liquir! Brothers and sisters welcome!”

Their smiles widened, as they realized they weren’t alone and that Earth was finally habitable. A man, no older than fifty, greeted them. He wore a long, pink tunic decorated with what seemed like gold-painted branches, and a green sash with some letters painted on.

Yunho, a young philosopher that was among others, frowned. How long had they been among the stars? Had it been only 100 years? The way the man spoke, the way he dressed… It seemed as if they had created a cult in the relatively short amount of time they had been asleep. However, he said nothing. Yunho was more of an observer, he liked to collect information and think, create theories and hypotheses.

“We were to call you, however one of our people destroyed the mainframe since he disagreed with bringing others over… We are Beerus, the ship just before you, unfortunately no other ships before us survived…” The male lied, as he guided the crowd as if they were their sheep.

Everyone took the time to listen, wanting to gather all of the information they were missing.

After just a couple of minutes of walking they arrived at a rather humble camp. There were small, colourful houses built on top of trees, almost morphing with them had it not been for the flashy colours, and some big buildings on the floor.

“The four buildings down here are the storage houses, the hospital and the Hall. Up on the trees are the houses of my people. We decided it would be best to live where less creatures would reach us, but fortunately there aren’t many predators as of right now.”

“Your… people?”

“Yes, me and my wife were chosen as the representatives of our community. She was the commander of Beerus and so we decided unanimously that she should remain in power.”

Yunho frowned. He thought that the commander of Beerus was a young man… Actually he was pretty sure it was a young man. Yes… He remembered because the male seemed about his age, and he was surprised to see someone as young as him be chosen for the mission. Yunho remembered feeling sad because in another situation maybe they could have been friends, but they were instead being sent to their death (most possibly).

Still, he kept quiet.

“I, Samuel, welcome you to Regnum de Caelo in the name of all of our community. I hope you are able to live happily here. The welcome ceremony is in about a week. We need some time for preparations! We will be taking your sizes for some fitting clothing and we will be running some tests to assign you a position, up until then, feel most welcome, brothers and sisters.”

The man wasn’t lying. They did need to take their sizes and run some tests, but not for the reasons he had stated. They ran these tests to make sure the new bodies were assigned to the correct person. Some of them only needed new arms, some of them requested bigger legs, and the couple in charge took care of that for their people.

Yunho roamed around the strange place. It was home, but it didn’t feel like home. At some point he felt like his cryo chamber was more home-like than this eerie place… It looked like something very creepy that they had splashed some colour on to try their best and conceal the actual appearance of the place.

“Hello young man.” A woman greeted, as she approached him.

She was much smaller, and had thick, black hair, that she moved out of her eyes so she could properly examine the male in front of him. Her clothes were very much like the previous man’s, the only difference being the colour pattern.

“Hi.”

Yunho wasn’t very friendly in uncomfortable situations, and although he tried to shoot her his best smile, he knew he had failed. The woman didn’t seem to care, as she went on and on about how amazing the ‘New Earth’ was.

From his periferal, Yunho could see someone peeking at him through the window of the so-called Hall, but he paid him no mind. He was a newcomer, people ought to stare.

“Ma’am, if you don’t mind me asking, you developed a new whole type of hierarchy in just 100 years?”

She cocked her head to the side.

“Yes, we did. Just like on Earth we needed someone whom we trusted and respected to set order and make decisions when needed, so who better than the person we chose as a leader for the ship team?” The lady’s lips were smiling, but her eyes looked dull, even dead.

Yunho hummed and looked at the ground, pursing his lips and furrowed his eyebrows as he tried his best to recall the launching ceremony. Each commander stood on a pedestal and introduced themselves, as they waited for the crew members to be sorted, 99 to each. He was sure the commander of Beerus was a man and not a woman. That much he knew. Because even though they had been in cryo-sleep for 1200 years, the last thing on his mind before entering the cold capsule was the boarding ceremony.

“But I was sure the commander of Beerus was a man-”

“Annie! I’m sorry I must steal him away, I would like to perform his fitting.”

Yunho looked at the male that was gripping his arm. He was able to control his facial expressions, the surprise and confusion, but he was sure that was supposed to be the commander of Beerus…

The woman gave him a weird smile, as if they were setting him up. As she walked away, the grip on Yunho’s arm grew tighter, and the other man only let go once they were by themselves, in a small room inside the Hall.

“Are you out of your fucking mind!?”

Yunho frowned, looking visibly offended at the male’s language choice.

“Excuse me!?”

The man took a deep breath and placed his hands on his waist.

“Stop asking questions. Never ask questions, never doubt them.”

“Why? What’s going on here is really odd and-”

“It’s exactly because this place is odd that you need to keep quiet and stop doubting everything. If they think you’re onto them you won’t even make it to the Ceremony.” He explained.

“I hope you realize I have no fucking idea what’s going on and I have no clue what you’re talking about.”

The other male stopped in his tracks, closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He quickly ran towards the window, made sure no one was outside, and then closed the makeshift blinds. He repeated the process with the small door and then pulled two chairs so the pair could sit down. The man’s antics stressed out Yunho a little bit. In the beginning he was confused, but now he was bordeline scared.

“I’ll explain it to you. Just listen, ask later.”

Yunho nodded as his eyes widened, ready for the explanation.

“My name is Song Mingi, and you’re right. I was, and still am, the commander of Beerus. The crew that you see walking on Earth isn’t my crew, it’s Mosco Restituimus. When we first landed I had the same questions that you did, I kept asking around, I kept trying to understand what had happened. I’m an engineer, I even tried to go into their ship to figure out if they were telling the truth but I was caught. Two guards grabbed me and took me to a weird room, everything here seems makeshift and shitty but that room was oozing with technology that I had never seen. They strapped me down to a chair and put me to sleep. I was scared for my life when I woke up, I had no idea what they would do to me. I managed to escape, fucked up my back in an attempt to bite off one of the weird handcuffs. I freed myself from all of it and I was about to leave but I could hear someone speak at the end of the hallway. ‘Yes, he’s strapped down already and once you’re also secured we’ll begin the transfusion.’ I remember these words perfectly, they scared the shit out of me. I started panicking and sweating, but I decided that pretending I hadn’t escaped would be the best option. I placed the cuffs back in their place without strapping them, and soon enough two men came in. One laid down and I could see the other one strap him down and put him to sleep, just like he did to me. I had to take the chance. I took whatever sharp tool was in the operating table behind me and I stabbed him.” Mingi paused, he looked at Yunho, who seemed a little afraid of the way the man had just casually admitted to murder.

Mingi proceeded to explain how he interrogated the other man once woke up, and he told Yunho everything. From who these people actually were to the Ceremony.

“I felt really nervous once I left the room, I had to pretend like there was a struggle. I told them the transfusion was successful but the other subject struggled and the doctor was killed. They seemed to believe me... After all these years they’ve become icredibly smart, but they fail to recognize many human behaviours, like lying.”

Mingi could see the panic in the other male’s face growing as he finished his explanation. Before Yunho could stand up and dash, however, Mingi grabbed his shoulders.

“Why… why are you telling me this!? What the fuck am I supposed to do now!? Did you just live among those people all these years!? How did you even survive-”

“I had to go through procedures. I didn’t want to, but I don’t hate myself for doing it. It was the only way I could survive until the last ship, which was you, arrived. These people are almost 100% synthetic at this point, every single child that was born was either born dead, or with severe deformities that prevented them to be alive for longer than a couple days. I need help to save everyone. If we don’t take down the previous crew… They’ll take the last one hundred human bodies, and that will be the end.”

Yunho clenched his hands and pursed his lips. He was trying his best not to look like he was nervous, but the slight shaking and quivering didn’t help.

“How many days do we have?” He finally asked, giving Mingi the response he was waiting for.

Mingi smiled slightly, showing his small crescent eyes, that Yunho wished he could’ve seen in a scenario that wasn’t the possible ending of his kind.

“About a week. They like to get to know their future bodies before they make a decision and they also need to prepare for the Ceremony. We have about the same body structure, so it won’t seem suspicious if I walk around with you, they’ll just think I chose you.”

Yunho took a deep breath. He had no idea what he was signing up for, but he believed Mingi. The little unexplainable lies he had been told ever since he got here made him doubt this place, he didn’t feel secure, plus, the other male’s explanation made sense.

“And what do we have to do? I mean, do you have a plan?”

Mingi raised an eyebrow at the stupid question.

“I was here for over one hundred years, do you think I was just making friends?”

Yunho blushed a little at his admittedly dumb questions.

“We have to kill them all.” Mingi told him.

The male saw it coming. Of course that was it... It’s never just an on and off switch, it’s always war and death wherever they go.

“I’m in.”

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pondermoniums · 4 years ago

Text

A little post season 3 ficlet (2749 words) featuring some holiday fluff <3 See tags or read on ao3 here ~

• • • •

Billy still feels it. He wishes his muscle memory had died with him, but it just came back with him too.

The things he felt.

The things It felt.

Everything It made him do.

His psychiatrist tries to tell him that his scars are his body claiming his soul back. Billy couldn’t agree. He didn’t like touching the starbursts on his torso because the shiny scar flesh felt tissue-paper thin—not to his fingertips, but underneath. His heart trembled as if he could just push a little too hard, and enter his ribs—

“Hey, the new place opened up off Main Street. You know those new roads they’re building? There’s already a Greek place there. Let’s get a menu.”

Billy frowned at him. Steve Harrington. He’d been at the mall. Billy didn’t remember seeing him…during…but afterward. In the spotty shreds of memory that were all his own, he remembered Steve looking nearly as bad as he felt. The memories swirled together like a circus dream. Steve and…Robin. Her name is Robin…in striped costumes. Steve carried Max away from his body. Robin practically did the same for the girl with a number for a name. All of them glowed with Starcourt neon pink and purple and red.

Steve’s car hummed around them, and fell silent when he turned onto the fresh asphalt of Hawkins’ new road. Steve laughed a little. “Farmer Higgins is probably still fuming. Last thing the mayor did before he got booted out of here was steal land for these businesses.”

“What’s it matter?” Billy exhaled. There were less people in Hawkins to fuel the shady economy anyway.

“Well I can’t speak for your Camaro, but my car doesn’t last long, driving brodies with trees in the way.”

His little sapphire. A dark mixture of humor and apathy seeped into his blood at the memory of Steve Harrington, of all people, slamming into him. He didn’t do it hard enough.

Now he sat in the car Steve drove. Not because the Camaro couldn’t be fixed, but because Billy wasn’t fit to drive yet. Maybe there was something full-circle about it. Or a broken circle; an open-ended thing, like Billy.

“As if you could do a brody.”

Steve smirked. “Thankfully I’ve ruined enough fields for practice.”

And then he pulled right off the road, slipped through a tiny thicket of trees framing the road, and burst upon a dry, yellow field. He turned sharply, throwing Billy against him…until the car locked into a paradox of calm and chaos. The back wheels revolved around them to dig a doughnut in the earth. Steve let the wheel go, and they rocked as the car jerked with the front tires straightening.

Steve looked around them to find the road again and made a mock sound of getting sick. “Glad we didn’t eat first.”

He grinned at Billy, making him realize a smile had stuck on his face like a cramped muscle. He pushed a hand over his mouth, physically melting it off.

The food was good. The flavors shoved their way over his pallet. It was kind of hard to enjoy food now. He ate when his body needed it but he didn’t get the emotional reaction to it—

“I didn’t know we had Greeks in Hawkins,” Steve conversed openly. A small, lost part of Billy remembered Steve calling him out for being mouthy during basketball, but Steve could talk. He wiped his mouth and dug back into his rice plate. “Then again, Robin and Dustin always have something to say about authenticity. Like you spend a day outside of Indiana and you’re worldly.”

“Did you forget where I’m from?” Billy spoke before he meant to. California didn’t seem to matter much any—

“Did you?” Steve tossed back.

Silence fell over their booth while Steve waited. Then he went back to his food when Billy clearly didn’t care about responding.

Over and over again.

Steve picked Billy up.

Hospital.

Food.

Back to Cherry Lane.

Steve talked. Sometimes Billy replied.

Then things began to change. Steve took Billy to the grocery store after Billy’s therapy. Billy had emerged ruddy-eyed liked he smoked a pound of weed, and Steve had merely said, “I’m feeling tacos.”

Only instead of a restaurant, he took them to the store. And then the Harrington house. Billy talked more there.

“No, no, it’s queso fresco.”

“It’s just cheese, though?”

“Jesus, it’s like I’m the one who grew up with farmers. Different rain waters different grass. That makes different cows, which make different milk. Do you know anything about breweries?”

“Do you?” Steve challenged while they made a mess of his kitchen counter. Crumbles of white cheese, lettuce, and other tacos toppings littered the fancy granite.

“I know that breweries stay put. Because the water’s different. They have to have the right water to make the right beer. I haven’t had my favorite lager since I moved here.”

“What’s it taste like?”

Billy told him. Billy told him a lot of things. Steve just…got a rise out of him the way his therapist couldn’t. Then again, Steve never asked about all the things Billy wanted to burn out of his brain.

Then Cherry Lane fell off the list. Billy couldn’t say how exactly he moved into Harrington’s house. Maybe the food flowed into Billy falling asleep, and starting the next day from Steve’s house just happened too many times. Maybe Max used Steve’s pool too many times. Maybe it was when Billy realized Steve wasn’t just driving him to his physical and mental therapy sessions.

He walked out of the physical therapy gym at the back of the hospital to meet Steve in the same lobby they parted ways in. But Steve wasn’t there. Billy asked the nearby receptionist if “the guy with the hair” had gotten lost to the bathroom, but she only replied, “He’s running a little overtime, but he should be on his way.”

Billy’s appointments took hours. It made sense for Steve to leave and come back—

But the elevator dinged, and Steve was too busy reading something to not walk into a passing nurse. “Oh! Ow—sorry! Sorry,” he exclaimed, holding his arm…

He rolled the shoulder of that arm on the way through the parking lot, swinging the arm round and around like he was warming up for tennis. Inside the car, Billy cornered, “What were you doing in there?”

Steve glanced at him but shrugged as he turned the ignition. “Blood work. An IV drip. MRI’s. My usual stuff. The drip took longer this time.”

“Usual stuff? How come I’m just now hearing of this?”

“Remember, Robin used to meet us here? She got cleared faster.”

“Cleared out of what? How are you more broken than she was?”

Steve stared at him for an unnerving minute. “They…kind of beat the shit out of me. So… I mean, you pack a wallop, but Russians with an agenda put you to shame.”

Billy suddenly wondered if he’d overstepped a boundary. Steve just talked so much, and took whatever Billy gave him without flinching that he never considered…

“Getting concussed and doped up with unknown chemicals isn’t everyone’s normal Thursday.”

Billy had forgotten that Steve had been through shit like this before. Not with the same variables, but… “I forget that your normal got thrown out the window before I got here.”

“It’s not a competition,” Steve tried to say lightly. He waved a hand in front of the vents as if their lingering in the parking lot was just to wait for the heating to kick on.

“And if it is, who’d win?”

“Oh, I think Will Byers has us beat.”

That…hit differently than Billy expected. A laugh burst out of him, like it had just been waiting for a weight to lift off of him to break free. “Yeah. Maybe he does.”

Then they went to Steve’s house, where more and more of Billy’s clothes had accumulated. The kitchen had been stocked with food bought from Steve’s wage and Billy’s top-secret government allowance—which turns out, was rather high. Steve, for all his fancy furniture and basically bottomless bank account thanks to his parents, had to pick his jaw up off the floor when Billy finally revealed the monthly check to him.

“Holy shit. Don’t let the nerds see that; they’ll siphon quarters out of you for the arcade.”

“They’re old enough to want beer and condoms.”

Steve scoffed as he flipped their dinner pancakes. “I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think they’ll sooner pop their cherries than go for beer.” Then he grimaced and waved his spatula. “New subject! Change the subject.”

Billy laughed from the breakfast bar, where he was arranging his medication into a days-of-the-week organizer. It was just a bar of little snap-closed boxes, but it helped him keep track of the pills he took—and the ones he ignored.

Steve had asked him once, “Why do you always leave the red ones?”

“They turn me into a vegetable.”

“Oh. You can’t, like…split it in half? Half vegetable?”

Billy couldn’t say why he felt comforted by Steve’s uniquely clueless way of thinking. Perhaps the guy actually made sense, or maybe he just over-simplified things in an over-complicated world.

Now, though, he set the spatula down with the announcement, “Oh! I got you something. Well, I hope I got the right stuff.”

Billy didn’t go with him to the garage, but he did follow Steve with his eyes. Blue irises locked onto the shockingly familiar box of lager when Steve returned. “Where in the hell did you find that?”

That dopey, thrilled grin made Steve glow like the Christmas lights they’d thrown all over the open floor plan. “Dude, there are professional shoppers! I mean, that makes each can like…a twenty-dollar beer, and this is the only box I got, but this is the stuff you were talking about, right? The lady on the phone said they released other flavors, but you only said ‘lager,’ so it’s what I got.”

The cans were practically frozen from being in the garage, but Billy tore open the box as well as he could to pry one out. “I don’t think I’ve been given the okay for alcohol.”

“We can water it down.”

“You don’t water down beer!”

“Then split one with me. I’ve chilled glasses somewhere…”

He went digging in the freezer drawer and pulled out plastic wine glasses. Billy snorted as he accepted one. “This is so cheap.”

“Yeah well, even mom’s fancy bimbo friends break wine stems around the pool. Gimme that.”

Billy appreciated that Steve made it sound greedy, instead of pitiful. Billy had trouble with his hands.

The can snapped open with a satisfying metallic crack. Billy teased as Steve poured, “Is this your first rodeo? Look at all that foam.”

“We’ve got time. The pancakes are almost done.”

Billy pushed his pill organizer aside to rest his chin on his arms, listening to carbonation sizzle while he watched Steve’s shoulder blades move under his sweatshirt.

“When do you get cleared for pot?”

Billy rolled his eyes. “I don’t think I’ll ever be officially cleared for that—hey, hey!”

Steve had turned around, leaning back against the counter with a pancake in his hand and a full cheek. “Whuh?”

“You’re eating my dinner! Dump the skillet over a plate and get over here!”

Steve came around to sit on the stool next to him with a pancake in his mouth and—

“Are those my slippers?”

“You mean my slippers that I hadn’t worn yet? Yeah, I took them back,” Steve retorted.

Billy successfully knocked one off his foot. “They still had the tags when I got to them. So dibs.”

Steve kicked the other slipper into the living room. “No dibs if you don’t have both.”

“You’re wearing my sweatpants. I get your slippers.”

“I get your beer and you get my pancakes.”

“Not if you eat all of them! Syrup, now,” Billy demanded with a grabby hand gesture.

Steve disintegrated into giggles that made him sound as much like a little kid as movie heartthrob. He finished pouring and passed the bottle.

So it went. Back and forth. Back and forth.

First Steve took Billy’s time. The minutes that built into hours driving to and from the hospital. Then Billy ate his food. Steve covered the restaurant tabs until they switched to cooking at his house. Steve washed his clothes and wore them like his own. Billy took Steve’s car keys and drove for the first time with Steve practically hostage all the way to the tree farm.

“I didn’t take you for a real tree kind of person.”

“You have the ceiling space for a nine-foot tree.”

“How the hell are we hauling a nine-foot tree?” Steve practically blanched. “And with what car?” He adjusted his earmuffs because he’d rather be caught dead than wear a proper hat. Billy, meanwhile, strolled through the greenery and the first snowflakes spitting from the sky with leisurely ease in his beanie.

He laughed, “I like how you’re not saying no.”

Steve didn’t do much to hide his mimicry as he trudged behind Billy, who chuckled to himself. “For once it actually smells nice. The trees really cover up the cow shit of—oh my god, there are actual cows.”

A line of tables displayed other living decorations like wreaths and garlands, but beyond them was a field of black and red cattle. Billy moved under a line of wreaths hanging over their heads to see how they actually had blankets on their backs. “Are the cow jackets norm—”

Steve caught his mouth in a quick, firm kiss. The sound of their lips parting echoed in Billy’s ears. Steve’s fingers lifted off his jaw to touch something noisy above their heads. Billy dumbly looked up to see the tiny bells interwoven with a mistletoe wreath. “Careful. We have real mistletoe here. Not whatever plastic California has.”

He left Billy stupefied, having the audacity to stroll away with a whistle on his lips before Billy snapped out of it and nearly tackled him. “OW! Agh, fu-shit, Jesus—”

“You’re better about planting your feet,” Billy breathed against Steve’s earmuff. He held Steve’s arms trapped against his body.

“Are you always this mean when someone kisses you?” he strained in Billy’s tight grip. The gravel under their boots grit and rattled as Billy dragged Steve deeper into the trees. “Alright! I should’ve asked! I’m sorry—”

Steve might’ve stolen the first kiss, but Billy shoved him into a tree and took it back. He took Steve’s cold shock against his lips, until hot breath warmed them up between nervous stares. Then Billy took his lips, his tongue, the taste of the mint brownies Steve ate on the way here. The cold tip of Steve’s nose pushed into his cheek, and Billy’s heart felt fragile against the softness of Steve’s mouth.

His breath trembled as he asked, “Why did you do that?”

Why do you give me rides? Give me food? Why do you cook every night? Why did you give me a bedroom? Will you let me into yours?

Steve’s arms around his waist moved, tightening a little but also moving up Billy’s spine as if to comfort him. To anchor them together. Steve swallowed, and the fragility in his eyes made Billy’s throat hurt. “I didn’t get to the first time.”

Billy couldn’t stand it. He pushed Steve’s earmuffs off in his effort to press his face against Steve’s neck. To absorb the delicious little sound that escaped him when Billy’s cold nose found the warm pocket inside his collar.

Billy didn’t think he’d be able to kiss anyone ever again.

Not after…

But all he wanted was to keep Steve’s lips on him. To steal him away like some fairytale winter troll and either keep him or devour him if he tried to leave.

“Billy?” His name was muffled against his own scarf, so tightly did Steve hold onto him.

But if Steve was taking…maybe Billy could let himself be stolen again.

“When we’re home…” he sniffled on his way back up to standing on his own. “Kiss me again.”

“Can I kiss you now?”

Billy laughed through his tears. “No, you’re buying me the biggest tree your car can carry. And I’ll steal that wreath while they’re distracted.”

“You have the money to buy it!”

“That’s no fun.”

#harringrove #pondermoniums #stolen #ficlet #one shot #holiday fluff #snowy kisses #post s3 #billy hargrove #steve harrington

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leafs-lover · 4 years ago

Text

Because Two People Got Drunk: 14

Series Masterlist

A/N: Bold is text messages, italics are flashbacks

Summary: You and Fred have returned from the summer as the new season is starting up. You try and navigate your lives as your dynamic has changed.

Warnings: Swearing, angst, smut

Word Count: 3700

Chapter 14

F: Hey home opener is Saturday, would love for you and Ollie to come. Let me know

You sit at your phone staring at it for a bit before facetiming Allie.

“Hey girl” she says answering.

“Hey what’s up?”

“Not much you?”

“Not a lot” you pause “Fred just asked me to come to the opener with Ollie.” “Why is that weird?” she asks you.

“He is still with Danielle the nurse” you grumble.

“You know if you didn’t weasel out in the summer you could be with him now".”

You hear a knock on your door and open it to see Fred “Hey Fred" you say letting him in.

“Hey (Y/N) how’s it going?”

“I’m good, you?”

“I’m good. Thanks for letting me get him so late.” He says about the fact it’s almost 10pm. “I had plans tonight, but I wanted the full day with him. Trying to get as much time in with him as I can before the season starts back up.”

“Oh no worries, I’m sure he won’t even move when we grab him. I actually wanted to talk to you about something anyways" you say as you head to the kitchen for some water.

When you arrived home a few weeks ago and realized you have feelings for Fred. After month of everyone around you telling you this, you finally realize it to be true and you hope you aren’t too late.

You hope you aren’t too late, because you plan on finally telling him tonight. And if you are too late you realize that you two can get through it since you have repaired your relationship from Valentine’s Day and everything that transpired after.

When you return you look at Fred and see he is wearing dark washed jeans with a white polo under a dark blazer. You stare at him a little bit before finally saying “you look nice, big date tonight?”

Crap, that wasn’t what I wanted to say.

He stares at you for a second “uh um” he starts clearly uncomfortable. “Yeah I was.”

You stare at the wall, looking about 3 inches beside his face. You aren’t able to look at him as you feel yourself go numb. You don’t hear anything and the silence feels like it goes on for minutes, although it likely was only a few seconds.

“(Y/N)” Fred says finally drawing you from your thoughts. “You wanted to talk to me about something.”

“Oh.” Not a chance you can say something now, he has moved on. Why couldn’t you have looked at him first and realized what he was wearing. He said he had plans; obviously it’s a date when he is dressed like this.

“No. It’s nothing" you manage to say talking a drink.

“You sure because -"

“Yeah I’m sure; let me get Oliver for you.” You walk into his room and lean against the wall taking a few deep breaths. You carefully scoop him up and return to Fred passing him off.

“You sure you don’t have anything you want to talk about?” he asks.

You shake your head, trying to avoid looking into his eyes. You can feel tears sitting in your throat, your bottom lip trembles slightly.

“No, everything is good” you manage to say placing a blanket on Oliver as you practically push Fred into the hall.

You take a few steps toward your living room so Fred can’t hear you through the wall. You fall to the floor and begin to cry as you realize that the man you love, the man who you thought loved you doesn’t. You hurt him so bad he walked away to someone else and now you are too late.

You shake your head remembering that night and how broken you felt. You managed to pick yourself up, literally and figuratively and have moved past those feelings. But you don’t know if you are ready to meet the girl he is dating.

“So is she going, and if so why invite me too?”

“Maybe they aren’t together anymore, or maybe she is busy or doesn’t like hockey. So many reasons. Just don’t overthink this. And if she is there maybe Fred thought you’d want to meet her before leaving your kid alone with her.”

“If that’s the case I’d rather just meet her at a drop off, not with a bunch of other people around. Or maybe he should ask me if I want to meet her before introducing us” you practically spit out the last sentence.

“I still don’t get why you didn’t tell him in the summer" she says lightly.

“Because he had a girlfriend” you say.

“She was hardly a girlfriend at that point and -"

“Well it doesn’t matter because he is with her and I’m over him” You yell cutting her off. You can see her scowl through the phone, she doesn’t believe you.

“I am. I met someone last week, I have been talking to Connor a little bit -"

“Like a band aid for Fred?” she asks.

“No, I don’t need a band aid for Fred because I’m over him and have moved on. What I was going to say is he seems nice, and he’s funny. I want to see him again.”

“Then why does it matter the reason behind your invite, if you both are seeing people. Just don’t overthink this babe. It’s the home opener, he wants his son there. So just talk to him after.”

You and Allie continue to talk before you finally hang up.

Y: Yeah for sure, we’d love to go!

F: Great, I’ll leave the tickets at the box office. Also I got him a new jersey I’ll leave that too.

Home opener comes and you are still a ball of nerves. You dress yourself in a pair of high-waisted white jeans, with a green and pink floral puffy sleeve shirt with pink open toed wedge sandals. You dress Oliver in a pair of jeans and white t-shirt, before heading to the lounge you swing by the box office to get the tickets and you put Oliver’s new jersey on him.

“Hey” Kathy says pulling you in for a hug “wow he is so big, probably going to be walking soon!”

“I know! He pulls himself up on things all the time, he also tries to walk holding your fingers, but he hasn’t walked without support yet.” You make your way down to the glass as the boys participate in the pre-game skate. Fred is skating a lap before he spots you guys and stops in front of you.

Ollie smiles at his dad as Fred taps on the glass “dadda” he babbles as he waves at his dad.

“Yeah is that your daddy” your coo.

“He is such a mini Fred, like identical to him.”

“I know the same hair and eyes, his entire face is just Fred” you say.

“Yeah” she agrees. “He will grow up to look exactly like Fred.”

The players skate off and you return to the lounge, scanning the crowd for Danielle. “Looking for someone” Christina asks scooping Oliver from you.

“Yeah, I was wondering if Danielle was coming, Fred’s girlfriend. I wasn’t sure if he invited her.”

“I don’t think she is coming, nobody told me is she was.”

The game is intense and Oliver falls asleep part way through the second period, you just hold him in your arms as he sleeps. The Penguins win 3-2 in overtime and you head down to the players tunnel to meet Freddie. As you wait there Oliver stirs in your arms and wakes up. You try to rock him back to sleep but the people around cause too much of a distraction. He starts squirming to be put down so you do, bending down to give him your fingers to help keep him balanced. A few minutes later you see Fred come out of the room scanning until he sees you guys. He has his tie loosely around his neck, the top button undone and his hair is still wet. He sees Oliver and bends down a few feet in front of him “what are you doing up bud? Way past your bed time.”

He reaches out to grab Oliver, at that moment Oliver releases your fingers and takes a few wobbly steps towards Fred before stumbling. Fred quickly scoops him up as you all start freaking out. “Oh my god!” you scream some people looking over at the commotion.

“He just walked, he just, he just walked. Like no support or nothing. Just like walked!” Fred exclaims picking him up and squeezing him tight. You walk over and kiss his forehead “I can’t believe my boy is walking. You’re too little, mommy isn’t ready for this.” Fred pulls you in tight and you smell his faint cologne mixed with soap and sweat as he kisses your hair. You hear Sidney say “time to get him some skates” which causes you all to laugh.

“Can I get a ride home? I carpooled here” he says.

“Yeah lets go” you reply. The two of you walk with to the car with Fred’s hand on the small of your back leading you out of the building.

“Is he already asleep?” you ask approaching the car.

“Yeah he is” Fred says buckling him in.

“Do you want me to park in the garage and help bring his stuff up?” you ask as you drive.

“Yeah that would be great thanks.”

You help Fred with the stroller and diaper bag as he removes Oliver and carries him to the elevator. You help carry everything in, as Fred puts Oliver to bed. He finds you in the kitchen, his tie now off. “You want a drink?” he asks grabbing a beer. You nod and he hands one to you sitting in the barstool beside you.

“Was a good game tonight” you say.

“Thanks” he says.

“Um, so you know that you could have got Danielle to bring him tonight.”

“Oh um… I haven’t introduced him to her yet” he says.

“Oh I kind of figured you had already”

“I’m not really sure if I’m ready for that yet” he explains. “It’s only been a few months, I don’t know how serious we are or where I see this going with her.”

“Okay, well when you are ready to introduce him to her, or someone just know I trust you.”

“Thanks.”

You sit there a little longer talking and drinking, you’re now on your 4th drink. Fred gets up to get you each a new drink when you look at the clock, it reads 12:10. You jump up and run over to Freddie as he turns around from the fridge and you wrap him in a big hug “Happy Birthday” you exclaim.

He chuckles wrapping his arms around you “thanks (Y/N/N)” you look up at him, as he stares down your eyes lingering maybe a little too long. He pulls back from you and you both move back to the island and continue talking.

“I can’t believe that happened!” you exclaim while laughing, you feel Fred’s land on your thigh. After you stop laughing, not even sure what you were laughing at you stare at each other. Fred’s hand remains on your thigh while you stare at each other.

You lean in as you feel him close the gap your lips softly connect. He sets his beer down on the counter before his hands reach the small of your back. You shift closer and run your hands through his hair as Fred deepens the kiss. His hands drop to cup your ass pulling you onto his lap; you allow his tongue entrance to your mouth.

He stands up and your legs wrap around his waist. He begins walking to the bedroom as your tongue attaches to his neck placing light nibbles and kisses. He groans as he drops you on the bed before climbing on top of you as he begins sucking on your neck.

“Mmm” you moan out as his hand slides under your shirt. You begin to unbutton his dress shirt as he pulls your shirt over your head “fuck” he mumbles as his mouth attaches to your breasts. You undo the last button and push it off his chest, you press on his chest causing him to fall onto his back and straddle him. Fred reaches up and unclasps your bra, freeing your breasts “forgot how nice your tits are” he says bringing a hand up to pinch one of your nipples.

You throw your head back before you undo his belt as you begin rocking against him searching for friction. You feel him grow hard under you as a groan leaves his mouth. You undo his zipper and slide a hand inside palming him over his boxers. Fred undoes your jeans and begin to slide them off you. You step off the bed and out of your pants. After you pull his pants and boxers down his legs, his cock slaps against his stomach. You work your way back up his legs, you slide your hands up his large thighs and you leave a trail of gentle kisses in your wake.

You finally make your way to his hard member as you lick a stripe up the underside. You use your hand to guide him into your mouth tasting his salty pre-cum. “Fuck” he mumbles as you start bobbing on him, his hands reach down to grab your hair. You continue to bob on him, gagging slightly at his size. You use your hand to help with what you can’t fit.

You continue your pace, as you re-familiarize yourself with his size. Bobbing up and down on him you slowly begin taking him deeper as you feel him hit the back of your throat. You continue taking his entire length; he hits the back of your throat every time. Your hands rub up and down his thighs.

You hear Danish curse words spill from his lips as you look up at him through your lashes. Saliva is dribbling out of your mouth and down your chin, your hair has begun to fall to the front of your face and in your mouth. You choke slightly on it before his hand comes down to your hair, hastily pulling it out of your face into a loose pony.

“I’m gonna cum” he says. You bring your hand up to massage his balls as you continue to deep throat him. His hands tighten their grip on your hair as you feel his dick twitch as warm cum spurts down your throat. You slow your bob on him as you swallow and lick up anything that has spilled.

You release him from your mouth and wipe your chin cleaning any spit from you. You crawl up him as he pulls you down capturing you in a deep passionate kiss. He uses his arms to reach down and grab your ass, pulling you up higher “come up here” he whispers as you crawl the rest of the way until you are sitting above his face. He grabs your hips and pulls you closer to his mouth, you can feel his warm breath against your folds as his beard tickles the sides of your legs.

You shudder as he begins nipping at the inside of your thighs inching towards your core. He begins sucking on your clit as a light whimper leaves your mouth “you’re so wet baby” he mumbles against you. You reach forward to brace yourself on the wall with your right hand, bringing your left down to grip his hair. He uses his hands to bring you down closer to his mouth and holds you firmly there.

His tongue licks a stripe up your entrance before sliding inside. His nose brushes against your clit as he pushes his face up. “Fred” you moan as he continues his assault on you. He pushes his tongue in further, you start to squirm as he pulls you down closer. He continues to lick the inside of your walls, one of his hands come down to scissor you as he sucks on your clit.

He pumps his fingers inside you, a slow pace but his fingers are thrust fully inside you. His mouth suck on your clit while his fingers continue to pump inside you. “I’m close babe" you whimper as you feel your walls tightening.

Fred pulls you down closer his tongue slips inside your folds, lapping inside you. Fred can feel your walls tightening around his tongue as he continues to work on you. You grip his hair even tighter tilting his head back slightly allowing him a better angle. This slight change sends you over the edge as you pulsate around his mouth. He keeps going until you finish when he loosens his grip on you. Your hand let’s his hair go, shocked you didn’t pull any out.

You slowly rise up and shift to sit beside him, your back against the headboard. He turns onto his side and looks at you, his beard glistening from your juices. “Fuck you’re unbelievable” he says.

Still out of breath you can’t respond, he pulls your legs so you are lying on your back. He rolls over to be on top of you, placing light kisses on the neck causing you to moan lightly. You feel his hard member press into your stomach as he places kisses on your neck and chest.

He reaches over to the night stand and grabs a condom rolling it onto himself. He returns to you kissing you passionately as he lines himself up with you folds. He slowly pushes in you as you grip the bed sheets, you lightly bite his shoulder to supress your moans.

Fred reaches down and grabs one of your legs bringing it to his shoulder as he slowly thrusts “fuck your tight babe.” He keeps his slow pace allowing you to adjust, your head falls back “been a bit” you whisper. His pace begins to slowly speed up as he drops lower pushing your leg down closer to your chest, allowing him a deeper angle.

“Freddie” you moan as he continues, your hands raking his shoulders. Filthy sounds leaving your mouth, your skin flapping fill the bedroom “you feel so good babe” he whispers as he pushes deep inside you. “You gonna cum for me baby? Need to feel you” Fred says as you feel your walls tightening around him.

“So close” you say as you feel him becoming erratic. You bring a hand down to your sensitive bud and press circles on it as Fred continues to thrust into you. Fred pushes deep inside you, each thrust hitting your sweet spot.

You spasm as your walls tighten. Fred feels your walls tighten around him, as he continues to thrust inside you, you scream out his name. Fred doesn’t stop thrusting inside you as your orgasm continues. As you come back from your orgasm you feel Fred’s dick twitch as he spills into the condom before letting your leg go and collapses onto you.

You bring your hands up and start stroking his hair as you lay in the bed, him still inside you. Finally your breaths begin to return to normal as Fred looks to you, engaging you in a soft kiss.

He slowly pulls out as you shiver from the loss of contact. He goes to the bathroom to dispose of the condom and returns with a damp cloth and gently cleans you before finding you a t-shirt and putting it on over your head. He pulls you in to his arms as the two of you begin to doze off.

The next morning you wake up to a cold empty bed, the clock reads 7:50. You lay there trying to process what happened. Did you actually sleep with Fred? What about Danielle? He did say they weren’t serious, maybe they aren’t exclusive yet. You are alerted from your trance by the sounds if Oliver’s cries.

You put on your outfit from the night before and pull your hair into a messy bun before walking to the living room where you see you crying son in Fred’s arms.

“Somebody takes a couple steps and thinks they don’t need help anymore. He fell and hit his head on the table" Fred explains.

You kiss him on the head and rub it soothingly “guess we better get used that now that he is learning to walk" you sigh.

“And he is a boy, they like to get in all kinds of trouble” Fred says poking Oliver’s side to try and tickle him.

“Oh, his crying face breaks my heart" you say kissing his cheek again.

You walk over to your purse and get a small box with an envelope and hand it to Fred “Happy Birthday Daddy" you say placing the items on the counter.

Fred sits at the barstool and opens the card smiling “I see Oliver signed it" he says due to the crayon scribbles on the inside.

Next he opens the small box which has some silver cufflinks that are engraved with Oliver’s birthday.

“Wow these a perfect Ollie, it’s like you knew I needed a new pair. Thanks bud!” Oliver claps his hands as Fred places another kiss on his head before putting him down.

“Thanks" he says pulling you in for a hug.

“No problem Fred.”

You both sit there silently for a minute before you finally say “I should get going.”

Fred doesn’t say anything he just nods. You walk over and kiss Oliver goodbye before going to the door and putting your shoes on. You open the door and turn to Fred who pulls you in for a quick side hug before separating. When you are in the hall and moving towards the elevator you hear Fred’s door close and lock.

That felt weird, maybe he regretted last night you think to yourself as you step in the elevator.

Next Chapter

#Frederik Andersen #Freddie Andersen #Fred Andersen #Freddie Andersen Fic #Freddie Andersen Smut #Fred Andersen Fic #Frederik Andersen Smut #NHL Smut #NHL Fic #Freddie Andersen X Reader #Fred Andersen X Reader #frederik andersen fic #Fred Andrersen Fic #frederik andersen x reader #fredzilla #because two people got drunk #my writing

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golgafrincham · 4 years ago

Text

The Forest God

Late December into the beginning of January was....tense and grim to say the least. Staring out my window into my own little patch of forest and retreating into an alternate reality where anyone could date a forest god was a huge comfort. Thanks again and again to🍃🌳💚 @dateaforestgod 💚🌳🍃 for the inspiration (psst under no obligation to read this however). The only constructive distraction I could manage that whole time was writing (but not the thing I was supposed to be writing, uh-oh) so ...here is a story about the first person to date a forest god.

Ch 1 They meet Ch 2 They meet again Ch 3 First date

🌳 Once upon a time there lived a person who was neither so young as they used to be nor as old as they would become. They lived in a small village on the edge of a great forest that was not as vast as it used to be, nor as dark as it would become.

Siv, for that is what their parents called them, was the last child of the family.

As the youngest Siv had been doted on and indulged - as one should with a baby - long after they grew up. They loved their parents more than anyone and never bothered to imagine what life would be like if they had not been destined to care for Mother and Father into their old age and until the very end. The older siblings had all been married off long ago, some happily, some not.

When not chopping wood for the fire or carding wool for the spinning wheel, Siv sat at the foot of the village wise woman. Since before they could remember, Siv had been fascinated with healing and little everyday magic, though not everyone in the village still agreed that everyday magic was a good thing. When Siv’s great-grandmother was still a little girl, a new god had been carried into the village by a group of men in black robes. At first the people had driven them away, but they came back again and again, with promises of prosperity and peace if they knelt before the new god - a god who they said was humble, yet of all the gods insisted that he was the only one. By the time Siv was born no one sacrificed to the old gods on their feast days or prayed to them for luck or a good harvest - at least not in public. By the time Siv grew up, no one hardly ever mentioned the old gods by their names, instead calling them all “false gods” or, as the more modern and progressive villagers termed them, “devils.”

As the old gods were pushed to the edges of the villagers’ consciousness, so too was the wise woman pushed to the edge of village life. But they still came to her when the new god wouldn’t calm their colicky baby or return their lost goat to the flock. They came to her after sunset, or in a panic at noon. They paid her reluctantly in bags of grain, or a chicken, or a promise that they never meant to keep. But still the old woman did her best to help, and she passed along her knowledge to Siv.

Together they would often go into the edges of the forest to collect medicinal herbs. The old woman showed Siv how to talk gently to the roots before pulling them up, how to take only what was needed, and how to leave an offering for the spirits of the forest to thank them for their generosity.

One day, after all the chores were done and the orange light of the sun was falling through the remaining dry leaves that still clung to the trees, Siv went to see the old woman and give her a bit of extra food in preparation for the long dark season to come. But she was not in her hut, and the hearth was cold. Assuming she had gone into the forest, Siv started down the well-worn track. It was the first time Siv had gone into the forest alone, though they had been there together many, many times before.

Hours passed as Siv followed the track deeper into the forest. The repeated call of “Grandmother! Are you here?” faded into the trees and received no reply. They called out louder, venturing just a little off the track to head towards the clearings that would allow their voice to carry farther. Still no reply. In frustration, Siv finally decided to give up after realizing the light in the forest was growing dim.

Siv pulled the edges of the woolen cloak tighter and turned around. After what seemed like an hour, though, the track was still in front of them but the edge of the forest was nowhere in sight. A white puff of breath escaped Siv’s lips. The sun had gone down and it was getting as cold as quickly as it was getting dark. There was no tinder, no flint to make a fire, only some bread and a hunk of cheese that was for the old woman. Siv knew they had to keep going, but the track was so dark - strewn with rocks and roots - the going was slow.

The moon rose as a silver sliver in the sky, but it was too weak to cut through the dense branches and reach the ground. It must have been after midnight when Siv, shivering and exhausted, decided to give up.

I will freeze in the forest or I won’t. But I can’t go any farther. They spotted a huge oak on the edge of a rise. The massive roots of the oak had twisted and pushed the earth up forming a little hollow at it’s base. Siv did their best to push a pile of leaves into the hollow to make a kind of nest, but before they lay down remembered that they were a guest in the forest, and a guest should always bring a present for their host.

Siv felt along the ground until they had collected twelve little stones to make into a small circle. In the middle of the circle they placed a larger, flatter stone, and on this stone put a single leaf and the bread from their pocket, just as the old woman had shown them. Satisfied that they had done all they could, they fell back exhausted into the pile of leaves. Wrapping the thin cloak around tightly, they curled up and immediately fell into a leaden sleep.

The forest at night was normally quiet, but immediately after Siv fell asleep it passed into an even more profound stillness. Looking up from the ground, there were only a few places amidst the tangle of trees where one could see the tiny pricks of light that were the stars. Suddenly but silently, even those few lights were obscured. A dark shape nearly as tall as the trees moved towards the gift that had been left in the circle of stones. The shape hunched over and shrunk as it lowered itself to the ground. One long dark finger reached out and poked the bread.

Though it wasn’t much, it was the first gift He had seen in a long time. He turned towards the sleeping figure and the light of the faint stars caught the edges of His horns. He sniffed the air. He had sensed this person in the forest before. Harmless. He thought as He shifted closer. Only a small patch of Siv’s face was visible through the cocoon of fabric, already covered with a light dusting of frost. Weak trails of hot breath escaped through pale lips. Pitiful.

He stared at Siv for a few moments more, then looked back towards the gift. In the center of the dark shape, a dark heart softened. The outline of the shape began to recede and melt like a shadow disappearing into the greater darkness.

The crescent moon peered between the crowns of the trees and threw a cold shaft of light into the hollow, illuminating the edges of Siv’s clothes and the dark gray fur of the wolf that stood facing them. The wolf approached, circled three times, and settled down as close as He could. He rested His chin on His crossed paws and closed His dark green eyes.

Soon enough He could tell that Siv was warming up. The pitiable human stirred and stretched their legs just a bit. They rolled over, threw one arm onto the side of the huge wolf and buried their face in the coarse fur.

He sighed to Himself. Only a human would do such a foolish thing.

They slept.

Dawn had not yet arrived when Siv began to stir. Wrapped deep within a dream of a warm fireside and a faithful dog, the undeniable fact of the hard forest floor only gradually reached into their consciousness to pull them back to reality.

For a moment, a handful of fur told them that the faithful dog was still there, and they wondered where they were. Siv rolled over and tried to uncurl and sit up, but every joint and muscle refused to budge. With a little time and patience, feeling started returning to the ends of their fingers and toes and they managed to prop themselves up.

I’m still alive. But also still in the forest. They knew they had to get moving, but before they could even try to stand up they saw it.

Not ten paces away was an enormous dark gray wolf.

Siv froze in place, barely daring to move. The wolf was staring directly at them with piercing dark green eyes.

Wolf. Dog. Wolf. This wolf is the dog in my dream. It kept me warm.

Siv looked more closely at the wolf.

This is not an ordinary animal.

The wolf cocked its head slightly and opened its eyes wide. It got up and slowly walked to Siv, stopping only two arm’s lengths away.

It spoke, or at least, Siv heard its voice.

You are not afraid.

“I am afraid.” Siv replied quite truthfully.

You do not run.

“If you were going to kill me, I would already be dead.”

“May I ask...” they knew that the wolf, not being a wolf, was best approached with deference “if you stayed beside me in the night to keep me warm?”

I did.

Awkwardly, with limbs still stiff from the cold, Siv got their knees and made a small bow. “Thank you for saving my life.” “I have no way of repaying you.” then they remembered the piece of cheese still in their pocket. That’s a poor present. But no, that’s not all I have. Siv looked around and saw a large brown oak leaf - they grabbed it and placed the piece of cheese on it. Then, slipping a small silver ring off of a pinky finger, placed the ring next to the cheese and slid the leaf towards the wolf.

“Please accept this small gift. Its insignificance is not meant as a slight, it is all I have.”

It was. The slender silver ring was a gift to a young child from their oldest sister’s family when she married off, and was the only material thing of value Siv had ever owned.

The wolf rose and lowered its head towards the gift. It smelled it cautiously before releasing a snort of hot breath. The cheese disappeared so quickly Siv wasn’t entirely sure it had been eaten.

The wolf sat back on its haunches.

I am not fond of metal.

By this time the sun was beginning to rise and the sky was fading into the blue white of morning. The outline of the wolf, however, was falling deeper into shadow. The shape of the wolf darkened until it became only a shadow, with two bright green eyes remaining.

Siv’s blood ran cold. Fool, fool, you have insulted a ....wolf...god. You’re going to….you deserve to die.

However, the voice continued I will accept your gift.

The shadow grew until its piercing green eyes were towering over the kneeling human. Within its darkness though, there were myriad things growing, myriad decaying, plants rustling in the wind, animals digging, running, flying. Siv was frightened and entranced.

Only when the morning sun had peeked between the trees, and the shadow had coalesced into a new, more solid form, was Siv able move their head just enough to look up and truly see what was before them.

The sun’s rays outlined a figure twice as tall as the tallest man Siv knew. It was crowned with dull golden antlers that cradled the rising sun.

The green eyes of the wolf looked out of a human, though somewhat long and sharp, face. The wolf was no longer there, but the figure wore a gray wolf pelt around its middle, tied with bands of ivy. Below the pelt the humanness ended, for it stood on the hind legs of a stag.

The being bent down and hooked one sharp pinky nail into the tiny silver ring before lifting it up to His face.

“Though I am not sure what to do with it.” This time when He spoke it wasn’t directly into Siv’s inner ear. Instead He spoke with a voice that was deep and rich as forest loam while gentle as a breeze passing through a copse of ferns.

Siv was transfixed.

He lazily twirled the ring around the end of his pinky nail for a few moments before seeming to remember the human in front of him.

“Why did you come into the forest so late at night with no fire or metal so necessary to your kind?” There may have been a hint of bitterness in His question.

Siv’s mouth opened, but there was nothing to say.

“Why? Come? Here?” He tried again, clearly and slowly enunciating. Perhaps I used too many words on this simple human He thought to himself.

Why...? For a few moments, Siv truly had no recollection of yesterday, or any moment before they had seen….Him. Think!

“I….had come…to the forest...with no disrespect.” Their mind shoveled through piles of frozen dusty thoughts until finally -

“the wise woman! I went to see her but she was gone. Her hearth was cold. I thought she had gone into the forest, so I went to find her and...I lost my way.”

“She is not in the forest.”

“Oh.”

“Thank you.”

“How...do you…?” Siv ventured.

“I know everything that comes and goes in this forest.”

“She is not in it.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you again for saving my life. Is there anything I can do to repay you?”

“No.”

The intervening silence was long enough for Siv to realize that the forest was no longer silent. Birds high in the trees called to each other, bushes rustled - the forest was awake.

Siv looked around - the giant oak, the piles of leaves, all looked more friendly and comfortable in the daytime than they had last night. Unfortunately, the daylight didn’t help the fact that nothing looked the least bit familiar. They were still hopelessly lost.

In the time they’d spent looking around, the forest god - for surely that is what He must be - had silently moved towards the deepest part of the forest.

“Wait! Please! Wait!” Siv shouted as they struggled to get to their feet.

The god didn’t seem to hear, continuing on in a stately pace.

Siv ran, jumping over roots and brambles, trying desperately to catch up.

“Please” they could barely get a word out, breathing hard as they ran “I don’t know how to get home!”

The god stopped, but didn’t turn. Instead He raised his hand towards a golden branch of a nearby larch. A tiny sparrow hopped onto his outstretched finger and they appeared to be conversing silently.

This gave Siv almost enough time to catch up. “Please” they fell to their knees, though whether out of exhaustion or as a gesture of respect it was difficult to tell, “I am lost.”

The forest god gently placed the little bird back into the tree and at last turned towards the panting human at his feet.

So frail and easily confused, these humans, yet, so troublesome at times. “And?” He asked, His voice was so low it almost slipped into a growl.

“Please...can….you….point me towards the eastern edge of the forest. The...village?

The god didn’t answer.

Oh no, I am asking for a favor...and I have nothing to offer in return. Fool. Fool. He saved your life, and you are asking Him for another favor. But...if He doesn’t help me I could die here.

“Lord” Siv began again, but this time as respectfully as they could “I don’t deserve your aid - You have already saved my life once - but I must return home. It is my duty to care for my aging parents. They will worry about me and if….if I don’t return there will be no one to chop their wood or go to the market for them.”

“...”

“If I don’t return...the wise woman has no one else to pass down her knowledge of the old ways.” Ah, wait, that’s it. Siv dared to look up at the shining face of the forest god. His face was an impassive mask, at once both beautiful and terrifying. Siv avoided His emerald eyes and looked up - only then did they notice the faded chain of flowers draped between His antlers.

“If you help me to return, I promise to find the forest shrine and make it like new. I promise I will return at the full moon with gifts, and light the little fires to mark the changing of the seasons.”

“...”

“Why should I believe you, human?” He demanded, though His tone was more weary than angry.

Siv was tired, and still cold, and by this time very very hungry. There was nothing more they had to give. There was no way they could prove that their promise would be kept.

“I...there is no security I can give you but my word.” But what good is the word of a mere mortal like me? Worthless. Their shoulders slumped.

“Thank you for saving me. I will leave.”

Dejectedly, Siv turned around and tried to make their way towards the direction of the still rising sun, hoping it would take them to the edge of the forest eventually.

They made their way under fallen logs and over roots and brambles. The forest had woken up fully by now, and Siv could swear that the birds - there were more of them than seemed normal for this time of year - were mocking the lost and hungry traveler with their echoing songs.

After what seemed like hours of frustratingly slow progress, Siv sat down heavily on a fallen tree. How could I have been so stupid as to get lost? If I die here...and never see my parents again....what a foolish way to die. Like an ignorant child. Their eyes began to fill with tears.

“You are going in circles.”

Siv looked up. The forest god was directly facing them, where moments ago there had been nothing. The dappled light that filtered through the trees played across His warm bronze face and shoulders.

“The birds have been trying to tell you for hours. Can’t you hear them?”

Siv’s head shook and they quickly tried to wipe the corner of their eyes. Instead of a proper answer, Siv’s stomach gurgled.

The sunlight that fell on the god seemed to sparkle and the edges of his form became less distinct. He took one step forward and was no longer quite so tall, quite so imposing. He leaned down towards the dejected human.

“Hungry?”

Siv nodded. Everything about the forest god seemed to have softened - His antlers weren’t so large and sharp, His lips were full and curved into a gentle smile.

“Here, I saved half of the gift you gave me earlier. Do you want it?” He extended one long sinewy arm, and in his hand was a half of the piece of bread Siv had left as an offering the night before.

Siv stared at it. The sound of their stomach grew louder.

“No, thank you.” the hungry mortal shook their head, resigned. “I can’t. It is a gift, given in thanks for hospitality. It is Yours alone.”

The forest god took back His proffered hand and stood up. “Good. It was only a rock. I ate the bread last night.” He tossed the brown rock over his shoulder where it hit the ground with a thunk.

He shook his head. Pitiful.

“I am tired of hearing the birds constantly yelling at you.” He straightened up to His full height, and extended one large hand towards the human.

Siv stared at the god, awestruck once again.

“...” He dropped His hand.

“Are you coming?” He said somewhat impatiently.

Siv immediately got up.

“Take my hand.”

Even reaching straight up, they could only just touch the ends of His fingers. In response, the god subtly shifted as if moving away from Siv - though He never actually moved. He was now only a couple feet taller than the confused human whose hand He grasped.

The moment the god took Siv’s hand, their heart began to race and stars filled the edges of their field of vision. Their whole body felt light and heavy all at once like they were going to faint. But instead of fainting, they were pulled forward.

The trees seemed to part before them. Siv would look to one side, then look again only to see a completely different scene. It was like the forest was running past them in the opposite direction while they were walking calmly. Within moments they were on the well-trod path, within sight of the edge of the forest.

The god stopped and let go of Siv’s hand. To Siv, it felt like suddenly being ripped from a warm bed in winter and shoved outside. It took every piece of willpower Siv had not to reach out and grab that hand again.

“I go no farther than this. I trust you can find your way from here?” He gestured out towards the open land beyond the trees.

Siv’s eyes followed the god’s motion and saw familiar landmarks. They turned to answer, but instead of the forest god they only saw the retreating form of a giant stag passing silently back into the woods.

💚Chapter 2

#3600 ish words #long post #tbh i don't like reading long form on tumblr #but idk where else to put this #now it's free #part of my motivation is that it's the only thing i've accomplished all month and setting it free makes it 'done'#my crap #writing #forest god #it was also an interesting foray into they/them pronouns since my other fic is all 陛下this and 臣that #will i finish ch 3? who knows?#other yet to be written chapters include They go to the village fair! He meets the parents! and Birds sure are gossipy.

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fortheloveoffanfic · 4 years ago

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Put Me In a Movie

Keanu Reeves x Reader (A/n-I just keep making things worse and worse for them. Are people even still reading this?)

Summary Prologue 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14

Warnings- Angst, just buckets of angst

Chapter 15- Insult to Injury

If she was there, then he'd fix things. If not, it was over.

That was the agreement that Keanu had made with himself. He wasn't even sure if the disrepair he'd caused could be fixed, but he knew he had to try. Ever since Y/n had left him in a cold, dim alley way, drenched in coke and rum, Keanu had been a mess. It hurt, way more that he had expected to. His chest felt tight and thick emotion made it burn, his vision went blurry and Keanu, from the minute Y/n had slammed the door on the shambles of their relationship, or whatever it was, felt the walls crumbling as they closed in. Even then, he was still confused on what he’d felt for her; lust, infatuation? Whatever it was, it had driven Keanu to bargain with himself; he’d give her the rest of the night to cool off, and first thing the next morning, he’d find his way to Y/n’s room, and if she was still there, then he’d accept it as fate and plead with her to let him make things right, but if she was gone, then he’d give up, for good.

So, there he was, at seven in the morning, not knowing what he’d say to make Y/n change her mind, but knowing that there was very little off limits. For a second, before he lifted his shaking fist, Keanu wondered how she was taking it, if she was still as upset as she was the previous night or if her rage had settled. Had she slept or laid wide awake in the mess of sheets like he had? Did she even resign to her bed, the one they’d grown used to sharing, like a real couple. They’d done so much like a real couple. She’d loved him, as if they were a real couple, and what had Keanu given her in return? Agony.

Did he even love her?

As fast as he’d asked himself the question, Keanu buried it, stuffing somewhere deep and far, so he wouldn’t have to think about it. If it hurt that bad enough without loving her, what would it feel like if he did? “Fuck,” he eventually sighed, realizing that he was thinking over, under and around the issue, and still hadn’t done what he’d taken the trek down the hall for. Just knock.

He was about to, raising it fist to give the creme oak a heavy tap, only stopping when a voice interrupted him as it came from the elevator, “Mr. Reeves?” It was Ester, the middle aged housekeeper he’d bribed to let him to Y/n’s room a few months ago. That morning felt so far gone, like the memories belonged to someone else; just as scared though impressively braver. The man he’d been then was almost in complete control of how he felt. But the man in front of Y/n’s door? He was jaded, a little broken, and very confused.

“Ester,” Keanu tried to summon up a smile, knowing his hollowed eyes and slightly disheveled form would sell him out whether he liked it or not, “How are you?”

“Good,” she nodded, wheeling her cart up the carpeted hall, cleaning products neatly mounted to the top and various items sticking out the bottom shelf, “Are you looking for Miss Y/l/n?”

“Uh, yeah,” he huffed nervously, rocking back and forth of the balls of his feet, anxiously stuffing his hands into his jeans pockets, “Do you know if she’d in?”

A worried expression pitched at the woman’s features, tugging at her wrinkles and dimming her eyes, “She checked out this morning, I saw her with her bags at the front desk. She looked very upset,” the matronly woman frowned deeper, debating on whether or not she should say more, “Did something happen between you two? Little lovers spat? Because usually she’d be up to chatting if we met around the hotel, but this morning she was just in a hurry, and I’m pretty sure the poor dear was crying.”

Did everyone know?

“I…..” Keanu stumbled on his words, shuffling his feet and avoiding Ester’s gaze, which wasn’t hard considering she was very small, “It’s complicated, I don’t think you could even call us lovers anymore,” he chuckled dryly, trying desperately to ignore the sting that accompanied the admission, “That’s probably why she left,” that was definitely why she left, “She doesn’t want to see me.”

“Can I give you some advice?” Ester spoke up, moving around the cart, placing a warm hand on his arm, “I see the way you look at her, the way she looks at you, and that kind of love, it’s rare. And I know I don’t know what happened, but I do know that you love her, so don’t some little thing get in the way of what you two have.”

“It’s not that simple,” Keanu objected, already ready to give up, even if everything in him wanted him to try harder. He wanted it so badly, that he hadn’t even realized that what Ester had said, about him loving Y/n. “I said some things, done things, I don’t think it's as little as you’re thinking it is.”

At that, Ester smiled knowingly, shaking her head, before turning to return to the helm of her cleaning cart, “In the scheme of things, where real love is involved, isn’t everything small? And I know this isn’t one of your movies, but that doesn’t mean you can’t still have a happy ending.”

Taking her words to heart, Keanu barely nodded and thanked Ester, casting his head down as he walked back to his room, now even deeper in thought. It hadn’t occurred to him before. The fact that he might love Y/n. Well, it had, but he’d dismissed it. What was love anyway? Hearts and flowers? Dinner together after work or extravagant presents for every occasion? Maybe it was marriage and kids, the nine yards with the white picket fence and everything. Keanu used to want that, but after a while, as he’d grown older, he’d convinced himself that his time had passed. That a wife and a baby or two wasn’t in the cards for him.

Perhaps, he thought, finally reaching his room, pushing the door closed behind him before slumping into the nearest chair, the one in the foyer near his packed bags, perhaps, love was the little things. That made more sense when he looked at what he and Y/n had shared. It could have been in the way he liked having his head on her chest, or how much he enjoyed the way she’d scoot on top of him in the wee hours of the morning. The way her laugh was like a melody, played just for him and the way holding Y/n’s hand made him feel safe and appreciated. Maybe it was how they’d learnt each other’s coffee orders by heart and how he’d always offer her the first spoon of his ice cream and how she always ordered his favorite dessert when they were splitting one after dinner. Love was in the little things. The things Keanu had spent so long searching for before deciding to give up one day. He’d always wanted someone who he could be himself around, someone who wouldn’t ever get bored of him and who made him feel like he belonged.

Someone like Y/n.

And was when it hit him. As much as he denied it, he loved her.

The evening sun cast a cloudy, yellow glow, filtering through the glass wall facing the city, on Y/n’s large living room. Late noon into early evening was always one of Y/n’s favorite times to spend there, she adored the way the light would bounce of some surfaces, casting long shadows on others, as the slight, though ever present Los Angeles warmth contrasted the coolness of her A/c perfectly. It was usually around that time when she’d resign to the sofa with a book or to watch television, sometimes falling asleep until it was past dark. But that day, seventy two hours after landing at LAX and having her dad drive her home, Y/n just could not focus. Not on the pages bound in a hard cover splayed on her lap, not on her favorite soap playing on T.V and she couldn’t even fall asleep.

Everything just hurt so much.

From the minute she walked into the apartment, the first thing that Y/n could remember was the short time she’d spent there with Keanu. And then, with those memories, came a slew of others. He’d done so much, and though Y/n usually preferred to reserve herself, having seen what a mess her parents made, not wanting to fall in love until she was absolutely ready, she had. It had happened slowly and suddenly, paces changing like seasons, Keanu’s moods keeping her on her toes and her own insecurities getting in the way of letting her fully enjoy their time together.

Sitting on the sofa that evening, Y/n’s gaze fell from the television, falling tears creating little darkened spots and making the ink run on the pages of her most recent read. After a hitched breath, soft, shuddering sobs wracked her body and there was no amount of deep breaths that could remedy the physical ache that had started in her chest and spread through her body as she reluctantly remembered everything they’d shared in just a few months;

Slow dancing with her in a barely empty bar.

Sitting with her on the beach

Holding her hand.

Pretending he wanted to protect her

Looking at her like she was all that mattered.

It was his fault really. He’d made her love him, and then he’d taken that away.

How could he? In the end, Keanu had barely batted a lash, even after Y/n had spun out and tossed a drink at him, insulted him. He’d just taken it, made her feel like she was the fool for expecting more. And just like that, right there and then, she sat thinking back on how it had gone down, for probably the millionth time since it happened

“You’re not my girlfriend.”

“.....this isn’t working for me.”

Maybe it wasn’t his fault, maybe it was hers for trusting him in the first place, after he’d given her so many reasons not to. Maybe- a knocking on the front door broke Y/n’s thoughts. For a split second, she considered ignoring it, hoping whoever it was would give up quickly and just leave, but soon after, they were knocking again. “Coming!” With a heavy sigh, Y/n tossed her book to the other side of the sofa, trudging barefoot to the door, as she rubbed the tears away. Pulling one side of the door open, Y/n gasped at the person before her, ready to slam the door in his face.

Though, Keanu was faster, and just as she moved to push the door closed, he firmly held it back, “Y/n,” he pleaded, sounding softer than he ever had. His eyes were bloodshot and his hair a mess, really, he looked as bad as she felt, “Please, I just want to talk.”

“I don’t want to talk to you,” Y/n actively avoided his gaze, shoving the door, though, Keanu was stronger, able to keep her from shutting him out completely.

“Then just listen, please,” even if he could see her trying to not meet his eyes, her anger still looming just beneath the exterior, Keanu also knew that he could get through to her, he just had to work for it, “I have a lot that I want to say to you. Can I please come in?”

“No,” every time she denied him, the lump in her throat grew and her eyes stung more and Y/n knew that all it would take was one look at his face to have her breaking down, “You need to leave.”

“I’m not,” desperate, Keanu longed to just squeeze himself through the space between the door and its frame, anything that would make her listen, just so she’d change her mind, “You close this door, then I’m staying right here. I’m not leaving, I’ll sit out here if I have to, but I’m not leaving.”

Exasperated, Y/n reluctantly relented and though a minute part of her was curious, it was against her better judgement when she finally let him in, not letting them get past the kitchen. Leaning against the counter and folding her arms across her chest, “I don’t know what you could possibly say that will change anything. Cause as far as I’m concerned, you said everything that you wanted back in Chicago,” there was venom in her tone and Y/n sniffled, anger and sorrow mixing like gasoline and an open flame.

“What I said that night,” Keanu blew an audible breath, knowing he deserved every shot she fired, “It was stupid and selfish. I shouldn’t have said any of it. But-”

“But you did,” chucking dryly, her eyes shone, tears ready to spill over on already reddened, stained cheeks, “You said it without even having to think about it. You essentially said that I was nothing more than a fling to you. There were so many signs that you didn't care the way I did, feel for me what I feel for you," a tired, pained huff broke past her bare lips and tears tangled in her thick, long lashes, "But I trusted you anyway, I kept on hoping you could change, that I could change you, but I'm done now," at the very last word, her voice dropped breaking the way her heart had.

Temporarily forgetting their current state of affairs, or possibly hoping some salvaged affection would would do some good for them, Keanu stepped forward, going to reach out, “Baby-”

“Don’t,” Y/n choked out a warning, stepping out of his reach, “Don’t fucking call me baby! Like you fucking care!” Running anxious hands through her loose tresses, Y/n hoped they’d somehow pull back the tears that were already falling, “Don’t you see what you've done to me?” Her face was blotchy and red, and for once, for the first time in a goddamned long time, Y/n wasn’t thinking of how great the good was, instead, all she could think of how absolutely terrible the bad was. How much Keanu hurt her after she’d let her heart bleed for him, after he’d called her ‘baby’ nearly a hundred times and made her believe that he could feel something more than lust for her. All she could think of, as they stood in her apartment, the evening bringing a solemn haze to the atmosphere, was how selfishly cruel he’d been in his so called romantic dealings, “You fucked me up you selfish, insensitive son of a bitch!” Her throat burned and Y/n didn’t care if the entire building heard her, “You made me love you, you acted like you cared. But you could never care, you don’t even care about yourself,” she spat bitterly, sniffling, “Cause if you did, you’d know that I was the best thing that’s happened to you in a really long time.”

She was right, and Keanu knew it, and for a second, his lips quivered, with the intention of playing it off the way he usually did. But something stopped him, reminding Keanu that he wrecked more than enough havoc to ruin Y/n for a century and that the purpose of his visit was to fix things, for real that time. To admit and repair. To tell Y/n that she was right and hope that she’d take him back, one last time. “You’re right,” he offered softly, sobering the mood, slumping his shoulders, “But that’s why I’m here, cause I understand now, Y/n it was never about-”

“No,” she objected, “You can’t just-”

“It was never about seeing where things went,” Keanu continued, hoping to combat her words with his own, “You were always the one. I always knew-”

Y/n tried to close her mind off to everything he was saying, everything she’d spent so long yearning to hear, “You can’t do this, not now-”

“It’s always been you, from the minute I met you, I knew,” tears gathered in his eyes as that day at the table read came back to him. How taken aback he’d been by her beauty, how intent he was to meet her in the parking lot to give her his number, praying to every god he believed in that she’d take a chance and call him. He��d fought it, for so long, for nights that he’d spent with her dancing through his dreams and days after their first coffee meeting, spent recalling her innocent touches. He’d never been touched like that, and the more Keanu got to know her, got to love her, he knew that Y/n was everything that he’d ever wanted and so much more. She was it for him. “Y/n, you’ve always been everything and I was just too afraid-”

“Just stop!” She pleaded, knowing that having him break her heart again might be the end of her. That was the thing about Keanu; he was capable of giving so much, but he was also exceptional at taking things away, of hurting her by turning the dagger he’d buried in her chest. “Please-”

“Please,” he ached to reach out, “Just give me one more chance-”

“Please, just leave,” she sobbed, “If you love me, then leave,” her hoarse voice was barely louder than a whisper, though Keanu heard every heartbreaking, gut wrenching syllable of it, “Because I can’t do this anymore.” For a minute, they just stood there, gazes glassy and equally tormented, though, when neither of them budged, Y/n yelled, a sob nearly stifling her plea, “Just get out!”

And in that very moment, Keanu swore that his heart literally broke, the ache in his chest breath stealing. Finally, he felt something minutely reminiscent of what he’d brought her over the past six months or so. He’d been killing her, but really, all he’d done was draw the makings of his own demise, because truthfully, Keanu knew that returning to a life void of Y/n wasn’t one he could thrive in. “Please don’t do this,” he begged, forbidding any dignity he’d reserved, “Please, Y/n I’m begging you to just-”

“Get out!” She screamed, starling them both, pointing at the door, “You’ve already made a fool of me Keanu, don’t stand here and do the same to yourself.”

Nodding, he ran his fingers through his untamed mane, acid on his tongue as he offered compliance, “Okay.” dragging his lower lip through his teeth, and stuffing one hand into his pocket, turning and heading for Y/n’s front door. Every step felt like a piece of his tired soul being chiseled away, and when he turned the knob, he could swear that the coldness of the metal was trying to freeze his lungs, “I hope you know,” he swallowed thickly, “That I’ll still love you. There’s not going to be anyone else, ever, not after you Y/n. And if you can ever find it in yourself to forgive me, if you ever decide you can still be with me after everything I’ve done, there wouldn’t be any question of how I feel about you. I’ll always be waiting.”

Keanu didn’t wait for a response, he wasn’t anticipating one anyways, and with his words, he left, easing the door closed behind himself. The minute was gone, Y/n fell to her knees, the hardwood cool beneath them. It felt like she was completely and utterly shattered, bits and pieces of her fragile being scattered across the floor, though most of it gone with him. Above everything else, seeing Keanu hurt like that had pained her the most and quicker than ever, the anger left, replaced by the severity of what she’d just done; pushed Keanu out of her life with a finality that Y/n wasn’t sure she could stand. The love she had for him was everything, and though it had ruined her, she’d take those ruins over a barren, listless life without the man she’d always longed to call her own. Her love for Keanu was everything, and without it, she had nothing.

******

Tagging- @harrisongslimited @paanchu786 @thesadvampire @fanficsrusz @fickensteinn @ladyreapermc @babygirltaina @septimaseverina @snatchedbylele @omg-imagine @21stcenturyyfoxx @magnificentclodpiebanana @allie1804-fan @keandrews @greenmanalishi @rdjloverxxx @danceoftwowolves

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nikkzwrites · 4 years ago

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(They Long to Be) Close to You | Dark Fix-It Fic Series Part 2 | Chapter 4

A/N: This fic is one that I started with my OC because honestly, I personally didn’t like how season 3 ended. So I am rewriting all of Dark with my OC Annalise Dahlheim. I hope you all like it. Some things will be expanded more on just for more depth to Dark that season 3 kinda skipped over so…. yeah. This is part two of the series! You can start the full series here!

CW: Canon Typical Triggers: Smoking, Sex, Language, Drugs, Drinking, Death, Violence.

Word Count: 7.9k

[First Chapter] [Previous Chapter] [Next Chapter]

“From then on, I knew that nothing changes,” the man explained to his son as their carriage went through the Winden woods, “That all things remain. The spinning wheel turns, round and round, in a circle. One fate tied to the next. A thread, red like blood, that connects all our deeds.” The man closed the book and explained to his son, “Ariadae. That was your mother’s favorite play. She surely would have liked to come with us tonight, in the company of such a distinguished young man.” He opened up his watch to see an engraving, “For Charlotte” inside.

His blind son spoke, “Why do we die?”

“The dead are never truly dead,” his father explained, “Maybe they’re not here, now. But everything that once lived, lives on forever. In the eternity of time.”

The old man sat remembering this memory of his father when his carriage stopped. He panicked as he heard his coachmen start to speak to someone. He hid his money away as he held close his mother’s favorite play. As the footsteps approached he asked, “Who is there? Who are you?”

“He who has eyes to see,” The Unknown spoke, “and ears to hear may convince himself that no mortal can keep a secret, because if his lips are silent,he chatters with his fingertips. Betrayal oozes out of him at every pore.”

“I…” The old man spoke, “I don’t understand.”

The middle part of the Unknown nodded, “Oh, but you do. You’re going into town to draft a telegram. Because you want to tell the world about us. Are you not?”

The man started to panic, “You’re one of them. A traveler. All those years.” As the man rambled, the Unknown started to take out his wire, “they said my father was insane. But now they are here. The travelers from the future. The world must know that they exist.”

The Unknown shook his head, “What we know… is a drop. What we don’t know is an ocean.” He slowly leaned forward to eand the man’s life.

Eve spoke to Jonas, “The mistake in all of our thinking is that we each believe ourselves to be an independent entity. One self… besides countless other selves.” When Jonas turned to her, she continued, “While, in reality, we’re all just fractions of an infinite whole.”

“What is this place,” Jonas asked Eve, “A copy of my world?”

Eve strolled over to him and asked, “Do you remember what you said to me? Under the bridge? The light. The forest. You. Me.”

“A glitch in the matrix,” Jonas responded. He stared to glare at her and asked, “Why am I here?”

Eve studied him then looked up at the painting, “You and I. Adam and Eve. That’s what we are. A glitch in the matrix. You want to know why you’re here? To save them. Your world and mine.”

“Last night, Kilian Obendorf, Bartosz Tiedemann, Annalise Dahlheim also known as Annalise Kahnwald, and Franziska Doppler, along with Magnus and Martha Nielsen, found an as-yet-unidentified boy’s body on the Doppler property by the forest road. His clothes and the Walkman are from the 1980s,” Ulrich explained with tears in his eyes, “We also found… an ID card on the body.” His eyes shifted to look at the evidence box. Ulrich started to sob and Charlotte walked over to him to give him a hug.

Charlotte turned to Woller and asked, “Woller, may you continue?” She turned to Ulrich and whispered, “Can I talk to you for a second?” Ulrich looked up and followed the woman into the file room. She turned to the defeated man and said, “You don’t have to do this. Woller can do the briefings. I can go to forensics. Go home.”

“I’ve spent 33 years looking for my brother,” Ulrich spoke up against the woman, ��Those are his belongings. Those are Mads’ belongings.” He took a deep breath and said, “Someone… Someone kept them all. And then put them on the boy in the bunker. Thirty-three years later.”

Charlotte’s brow furrowed. She asked, “You think it was the same killer? That it’s all connected. Mads, Erik, the boy in the bunker?”

Ulrich looked at her and asked, “Do you know why I joined the police? When my brother disappeared… they made pretty much every mistake you could imagine. The detective was a drunken moron. And me? I swore I’d do it all differently. That I’d do everything right. That was 33 years ago. And what do I do? My marriage is ruined and now I’m cheating on the woman I cheated on my wife with.” Ulrich sighed as Charlotte touched his face, “I can’t do this anymore.” He allowed her to remove her hand and he walked out of the office.

Jonas looked up to see Bartosz strutting in with Martha slowly approaching behind him. Jonas stormed to Bartosz and demanded, “Where were you?” His eyes turned towards Martha and turned back to Bartosz to ask, “What did she tell you?”

“We’ve been stuck here for weeks,” Bartosz responded to the man, “The fucking device is empty. You have no idea how any of this works. All you did was lie! You knew what would happen, and you told us NOTHING!”

Jonas growled, “Don’t you realize she’s just using you?” He motioned towards the girl and spoke, “That isn’t Martha. She’s dead.” His heart ached at his memories, “No one returns from the dead.”

Magnus spoke up and said, “Whoever she is… she may be our only chance to get out of here.”

Bartosz grit his teeth then asked Jonas, “Why don’t you tell us the truth?” When Jonas didn’t say anything, Bartosz stepped closer and growled, “Tell them who really killed Annalise and Martha.”

Jonas’s eyes flinted to Martha then down after hearing Bartosz. He sidestepped and started his way out of the warehouse. Bartosz growled and waited for a moment before going and chasing him outside.

“Bartosz! Wait,” Magnus called as he and Franziska chased after him.

The rain fell as Jonas walked outside. He silently thanked the God forsaken town for complying with his emotions before he heard Bartosz screaming behind him.

“Tell them,” Bartosz demanded. He growled as he pushed the man over, “Tell them who Adam really is!” The two rolled around fighting just as they did 34 years ago before Magnus and Franziska pulled them apart. Magnus held Bartosz back as he screamed at everyone, “I told you all along! Jonas is to blame for everything!” He fought Magnus off and stood away from everyone as he cried, “It’s him. He’s Adam!” When Magnus looked at him in disbelief, Bartosz screamed through his tears once more, “He’s Adam! Adam wasn’t even the one who killed Annalise! It was just him proper! He killed both of them!” He stormed away from the group after asking Jonas, “Couldn’t have both so killed them both? Huh?”

Jonas and Magnus tried to catch their breaths and exchanged a look.

Eve, at the same time in another universe, told Jonas, “In all of that, didn’t you ever wonder, why you can’t let go of them, of her? You knew, you know it’s impossible. Yet still, you can’t let it go.” When Jonas turned to her with tear filled eyes, she continued, “An invisible bond that binds you for eternity. Adam tried to sever it. But that’s impossible.” She took out a silver tree of life necklace and showed it to him, “You gave this to me.”

Jonas took out his Annalise’s necklace and rubbed his dirt covered fingers over it, cleaning the blood off of it.

“You and I,” Eve continued, “Black and white. Light and shadow. We are bound together for eternity in this eternally repeating deja vu.”

Jonas whispered, “What is all this? What do you want?” His voice started to get louder, “Why don’t you just tell me why I’m actually here?”

“You’ve seen what you’ll do,” Eve tried to reason with him, “What Adam will do. If you want to save your Annalise, you have to choose the side of light. And you have to make me what I am today.”

Jonas slowly approached her, “I have to? I don’t have to do anything anymore. I’m sick to death of always having to do things!”

“Then ask yourself,” Eve responded, “what you want.” Watching his face change she asked, “Do you want her to live?”

Annalise awoke, yet she was still face to face with Mads. She screamed and started to cry again. She kicked the small enclosure entrapping her with the dead boy. She heard a very familiar voice call her name. Then Mads slowly turned to Mikkel then to her father. After that, Annalise found herself listening to her father’s voice message and words flowed out of her mouth without consent, “I just called to let you know I had my first kiss today.” Her tears choked her as her voice continued against her will, “I wish you could have met him Dad. His name is Adam and he reminds me so much of you and mom. You would love him just as much as I’ve fallen for him.” As she looked out the window, her vision faded to black. Her throat feeling like it was being filled with water again. When Annalise tried to scream, she found herself in something like a mirror of Martha’s room. Annalise turned and saw a blond boy there laying next to her, fast asleep. He seemed so familiar. Her hand shakely reached out and his name spilled from her lips without knowing, “Jonas?”

Right when the boy was about to turn, Annalise shot up in her bed in Ulrich’s house. Her breath shaking from terror and crying. She turned towards her phone to see Bartosz had tried to call her. There was a text there saying, ‘If you need to talk, let me know.’

Hannah burst into the room, “Annalise!” She quickly waddled to the girl and held her closely as the teenager started to scream, “Shhhh… It’s okay. It’s okay. I’m here.” Hannah kissed the girl’s head as she rocked with her, “I’m here.” As she rocked the girl, her eyes started to trace the electrical burn scars on the teenager, yet she said nothing.

Martha stared up at the ceiling in her room. After finding the body last night, it was the last straw and Katharina forced her to come back home to be with her family instead of staying the night with Annalise. When Ulrich was finally able to come home that night, he drove his daughter back to his ex-wife. She sighed remembering that argument and the one before it where Hannah, her, and her mother argued about where Martha should be with as Annalise stood there just zoning out repeatedly and mumbling to herself some physics equations. Katharina had only conceded from seeing Annalise and knowing that the girl probably needed someone. So she made the condition that once Ulrich was back home, he was to bring Martha back. She heard the doorbell ring and sighed as she got out of bed. When she answered the door, there in front of her was Ulrich. “Dad,” she asked in disbelief.

“Can I come inside,” he asked his daughter.

Martha sighed and begrudgingly allowed the man inside. They stood in front of the staircase.

Ulrich asked, “Is Magnus here too?”

Martha studied her father trying to get a read on him, “I think he’s still sleeping.”

Ulrich nodded and told the girl, “You have to tell me the truth. What really happened in the bunker?” When his daughter looked at him again in disbelief, he continued, “What did you see?”

“I did tell the truth,” Martha said, “we went in and the bunker was empty. There was nobody there! Then there was a light. And then this...this body fell down. Annalise fainted at the sight of it.”

“Had you taken anything,” Ulrich asked accusingly.

“What,” Martha questioned him.

As Magnus walked down the stairs, Ulrich asked again, “Did that Kilian kid give you anything?” Magnus just finished walking down the stairs when Ulrich turned to him and asked, “Come on, what did you take?”

“What is this shit,” Magnus sneered at this father, “Are you playing worried father now? Why don’t you ask your precious new daughter?” Martha looked at her brother and shook her head, yet he continued, “You usually don’t give a shit about us!”

Martha crossed her arms and shrugged, “It’s just as we told you. There was this noise...It came from the caves...or the ground,...or… I don’t know. We went to the bunker. At first there was nothing there, then...he...he was just lying there.”

Ulrich turned away and stared out into the dining room calculating what was going on.

“Is that all,” Magnus growled at his father. When his father turned to look at him again, Magnus replied, “Mom will be back any moment. You’d better go. But it was nice of you to drop by to see how we’re doing.” When Ulrich reached up to caress him, Magnus took a step back.

Hannah walked through the halls of the police station with a tray of brownies. When she was greeted by Woller and Charlotte, she asked, “Is Ulrich here? I’ve been trying to reach him all morning. Annalise is having nightmares and just woke up finally.”

Charlotte shook her head and said, “I thought he went home.”

Hannah studied the woman for a second. Her mind started to wonder. “You look so different,” commented the woman, “Did you get a haircut?”

Charlotte shook her head, “No.”

Hannah looked her up and down. She laughed, then hugged the woman. She took her smell in deeply. She pulled away and waited a moment before saying, “It’s nice to see you. I’ll just put this in his office.”

Charlotte turned and watched her go.

Hannah closed the door behind her and walked to place the container on his desk. She looked up as she realized who it was that Ulrich was cheating on her with. She left as the pictures of his children, Annalise with Martha, and herself with him burned their place on his desk.

Annalise sat there staring at the wall. Her brain running six different directions just trying to figure everything out. She ran her fingers through her hair as she screamed. She yelled and closed her eyes. Everything that happened kept running in her head. Her dreams danced in her head. She felt empty. There was a pulling inside of her. She ran out to the woods and screamed again. It felt as if someone was tugging at a string within her. Plucking at it, like a chord of a guitar.

“Can we talk,” Martha asked her brother as she walked in.

Magnus rolled his eyes, “Get lost.” He assumed she was going to scold him about what he said about Annalise.

Martha, instead, walked in and sat next to Magnus, “Last night…in the forest... Did you see anything else?”

“No,” Magnus told her, “Like what?”

Martha turned away from her brother and asked, “Do you sometimes feel like you’re losing your mind? That nothing makes sense anymore?” She sighed and commented, “Maybe… Dad is right.” When Magnus looked at her confused, she said, “Maybe he was already lying there.” She shrugged and said, “And...we…”

Magnus stared at her and stated, “I know what I saw.” Martha and he sat quietly for a minute before she stood up and walked to his window. “Where are you going,” he asked.

“Don’t tell Mom,” Martha replied, “I’ll be back for dinner.” She opened the window and left.

“Everything repeats itself,” Eve told Jonas, “Again and again for all eternity. Because none of us is prepared to let go.” She lifted up a light and walked over to Jonas, “It took me a long time to understand that. That you can’t let go of your past. That you will always choose her, always choose your Annalise.” She nodded and told him, “And just as you can’t let go of your past, I’ve spent my life clinging to mine.” She made a face then told him, “You trusted Adam. But where did that lead you?” She walked to Jonas and said, “You have to show her, Martha, how everything is connected. You don’t have much time left. She has to see her future in order to understand what must be done.” She handed him the lantern and spoke, “She will follow you. She is bound to your fate, just as you are to hers.”

Jonas grabbed it from her and turned away. He looked at Eve and wondered if she knew what he was thinking. He walked out of the office determined to find Annalise before trying to go forward with Eve’s plan.

In Adam’s world, Martha looked down at the necklace in her hand. She quickly hid it after hearing a knock on the door. She pushed herself closer towards the window as she looked to see who was coming in.

Jonas opened the door and closed it behind him. He stood in the middle of the room and said, “You said I was in your world. With you. Why can’t I remember it?”

“I don’t know,” Martha told the man, “That letter… I didn’t write it.” She slowly approached him and said, “You have to believe me.” As he turned away, she spoke again, “Sic Mundus, what is it?”

Jonas sighed, “Old Tannhaus’ father… tried to bring someone back from the dead. His wife. He was convinced that the ability to time-travel would be the world’s salvation. Every mistake could be prevented before it even occurs. But it doesn’t bring salvation. Only Damnation.”

Martha took a deep breath and growled, “They’re all dead. In my world. I can’t help hoping I can change that.” He glared at her as he tried to walk away, but the girl grabbed him, “I know you think you can’t trust me. I want to prove to you that you can.” She brought him out into the woods and unburied her ball to show him the device she used to get there.”

“This is what you used to travel,” He asked.

Martha nodded at him. She undid a dial and took out a small dark ball, “this is the last one I have.” She held it out to him, “It’s the only way I can go back again.”

Jonas sighed as he took it from her.

Eve sat in her office waiting for her son and Mary. The Unknown walked in with all materials he had grabbed for her.

The Unknown told his birth mother, “You could have told him which path you’re sending him down. How it will end.”

Eve shrugged as she explained, “He will never stop trying to break this cycle. He’ll never understand that we must preserve the knot. That his Annalise must die. So all the others can live.”

She stared at her son as she opened the leather planner, “The beginning and the end.”

Jonas walked out of the cave and through the woods. He heard sobbing and screaming he only knew as Annalise and ran towards it.

Charlotte walked to the bunker and called Ulrich. She asked him to call her back as she approached the door. She opened it up and walked inside. She stared at the chalk outline and started to investigate. When she knelt down, under a bench she found a penny with a red string around it as if like a necklace.

On the other side of town, Helge sat repeating to himself, “Tick tock. Tick tock.” He looked up and started to walk out of the house to try to stop it.

Bartosz exited Mary’s car. He sighed and looked towards the power plant. As his eyes scanned, he noticed a figure stumbling across the street. Normally he wouldn’t think anything of it, but it looked very familiar. The beating of his heart echoed in his ears when he realized just who it was. He jogged across the street and called, “Anna.”

Jonas was just about to interrupt the girl’s drinking when he heard Bartosz’s voice. The boy had been following her for a while, but he didn’t know how to approach her, so instead he just decided to watch her from afar. He slunked back into the shadows right out of sight of the two. His heart raced. He knew what was going to happen.

Annalise took another large drink of her mixed drink a very kind older man had given her. She smiled gently. It reminded her of the drinks she heard about back home. Fruit punch, Red Bull, vodka mixed in the right fashion still only seemed like fruit punch. He had given her a large bottle just with a few bucks and for “looking cute.” She drank as she made her way to the bus stop out of Winden. The burning sensation masking her brain being torn apart at the seams.

Bartosz easily caught up to the girl and grabbed her arm, “Anna! What are you doing, idiot?!” He kept a firm grip on her. Frustration rose into his chest. Where did she even get what she was drinking? Where was she going? Shouldn’t she be with Martha or nearly anyone else? She never went anywhere alone.

“I’m going home,” she answered simply, “Now please let me go.” She tried to jerk away.

He shook his head, “What are you drinking? Your place is that way.” He gestured with his shoulder towards where she lived with Ulrich and Hannah. He stared at the girl floundering to get away from him. His heart started to ache. More than that. He was angry. Furious even. Filled to the brim with an anger he had never known before.

Annalise started to cry as she tried to tear away from his grip, “Let me go!” She started to yell at him. Tears built up pressure behind her eyes as she remembered back to what had driven her to this point. How she wished for the rain to finally start in this God abandoned town. The wind howled as it shook the trees awake. At least, she reasoned, that was on her side. “Let me go Bartosz,” she repeated screaming at him with the full force she wanted to let out at everyone.

Jonas felt powerless. Here he was watching a mirror of what happened that night. His throat dried up. His heart started to ache. It was being tugged in so many directions. Jonas wanted to interrupt. He wanted to run, yet his feet stayed firmly rooted in the ground. It was as if the Knot wanted him to see this. It was its punishment for him kissing Martha that night. It was punishment for taking Lise for granted.

“No!” Bartosz roared back at her. He pulled her into his arms. His heart raced. He just wanted her to calm down. He knew instantly then that he loved her. All this time was just him lying to himself trying to keep the status quo and hoping things were going to go back to the way they were before his mother died. He wrapped himself around her. Was she always this tiny, he wondered. It was his first time ever fully embracing her. He had to bend down a bit to bury his face into her shoulder and neck. Oh, how it felt nice to finally hold someone, to hold her, in his arms, but he couldn’t dwell on his own happiness. He needed her to be happy. He thirst to see her smiling and laughing again. That happy radiant infectious smile that he loved seeing across her face.

Annalise beat her fists into the taller boy as the tears fell from her eyes. She continued to scream at him to let her go. The girl struggled as he just held her in an embrace. Her breathing was off. The thumping his chest made as she hit it reminded her how her heart felt when they saw the boy just drop in the bunker like that. She just wanted to go back home but she could never tell him that. Annalise hated every moment of this. She hated every moment of Winden. She just wanted to go back in time to right before they saw that moment and never see that poor dead boy just drop...Before she agreed to help that short haired Martha... Before she was trapped with that dead boy...

Bartosz pulled his face away. There was something he had heard Magnus mention before while Mikkel was throwing a tantrum. He needed to distract her from her emotions so that Annalise could actually TELL him what was going on. He sighed knowing he was going to hate himself later for indulging the part of him that loved her without ever telling her that, but he had to do it. With one hand, he trapped her wrists from continuing to beat into his chest. The other he used to grab the back of her head. Bartosz pressed his lips against hers.

The girl froze. His lips were so desperate. She could feel his yearning for her to stop and think about what she was doing. She didn’t pull away. Instead, she allowed herself to kiss him back. There was a saltiness to it, yet tender and warm. Soon, she felt her wrists freed from his grip. She just gently rested her hands against the boy’s chest as his now unoccupied hand found a new home at the small of her back. Annalise’s heart fluttered. She felt as if drunk, longing for love, and finally acquired a bit of that feeling of being wanted.

Bartosz pulled her closer. He clinged to her as they slowly deepened their kiss. They both wanted this for such a long time. He sighed happily as her arms slowly started to snake their way off his chest to around his neck to play with his long hair. He let one of his arms slide under her so that he could scoop her up while they were still making out. He lifted her up into his arms and walked over to the bus stop so that the side of it could be used to stabilize the couple. He pressed her back against it as he could feel the both of them getting weak from the lack of breath and their hearts racing quickly.

The hidden boy’s heart shattered as it fell to the cement. He wondered how much of this was like that night and how much wasn’t. Jonas could see how much heat and longing was between the other two teenagers. They were so desperate for the other one to be close to them that the rest of the world didn’t exist. He didn’t exist. He wasn’t supposed to exist.

Bartosz eventually pulled away gently. Annalise reached up and pressed his forehead against hers. Her eyes closed as the last of her tears drained from her. He calmed himself and asked, “Anna, what’s wrong?” He gently brushed her wild hair from her face, unstuck some strands stuck around her eyes from her tears, and put it in a place not easy to get stuck there again.

Her face contorted in agony. The fountain of sorrow slowly turned back on. Something about this moment felt as if something similar had happened before. It felt as if she, him, the moment, it was all supposed to happen. “I,” she started. She took a breath and then confessed, “I am so scared. What does this all mean Bartosz? There is so much going on in the world now and I’m scared. I don’t know what I’m… I don’t know what role we play in this...” She choked on her words and started to cough.

Bartosz cooed at her and held her close once more, “I know. I know. It’s okay.” He swallowed hard and rocked with her. Bartosz gently kissed her head every so often as he just kept her safe within his arms. The boy just repeated that it was okay, that he was there with her, he wasn’t going to leave her, that everything was going to be okay until he could feel her body start to go limp. She must have been exhausted, he figured. He lifted her up and tried to figure out how to manage her with a bike. In the end, he called his father to come pick them up. He took off the jacket his mother had gifted him and put it on the girl as they waited.

Jonas turned finally unstuck from the Knot. He tracked his way back to where he knew he had to be, with this world’s Martha and to try and fix this world so that his could be fixed and he could go back home to his Lise. Be in her arms once more where she clung to him like that. Where she loved him, when she loved him. Not seeing some stranger with her face loving the boy that shared the same face as his best friend back home.

Martha walked over to Kilian’s trailer and knocked on the door. She stood back for him and spoke, “Hey.”

He responded back, “Hey.”

Martha stood there staring at him.

“What are you doing here,” He asked the girl.

Martha shook her head, “You weren’t at the dorm. I was worried.”

Kilian grabbed her arm and walked with her away from the trailer, “They kicked me out. Your father called. He wanted to know if I slipped you guys something.”

“Did you,” She asked.

“Fuck no,” He gowled, “No, I didn’t.” He shook his head, “But sure, none of you can get it out of your system. I haven’t lived here for two years, but I’m still the trailer park trash everyone points fingers at.” When Martha didn’t respond, he sneered, “I knew it.”

“What did you know,” she asked him.

He shook his head and said, “That you were only with me to rile up your parents. You didn’t give a shit about me or Erik.”

Martha scoffed at him. If she really wanted to do that, she would have just dated Annalise. She turned her head back towards him. She wasn’t really able to fight back though. Maybe she really was and he was just the safe option.

Kilian turned away and told her, “You’d better go.”

Martha fought back her tears as she whispered, “Okay.”

The boy turned and walked away leaving her alone in the park with Jonas there watching.

“About Regina…” Hannah spoke to Aleksader, “I’m sorry. It must be very difficult for you.” She paused, then asked, “How are you? Bartosz?”

Aleksander nodded and told her, “We’re managing.” He turned towards the pictures on his desk and stared at them.

“I…” Hannah spoke, “I hear that Annalise and Bartosz really like each other.”

Aleksander nodded, “My son speaks of her pretty often. Please, tell me why you are here.”

Hannah shifted awkwardly and got to the point, “I’d like to propose a deal.”

“A deal,” he questioned the woman.

Hannah looked down at her purse, “I have something that belongs to you. I’d like to return it.” She carefully pulled out the bag from 1986 and slid it towards him. As his face changed she asked, “Do you recognize it? Don’t worry. The contents are in a safe place.”

Aleksander asked quivering, “What do you want? Do you want money?”

“I don’t want money,” Hannah told him, “I want you to destroy Charlotte. I want her to lose everything. Everything.”

Charlotte drove to the church meeting her husband who was talking to a man inside. When she walked in, Peter stood up.

“Charlotte,” Peter asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Thank you,” The man told the pastor before leaving.

Charlotte slowly approached the man and said, “I tried to get a hold of you. I went to the bunker. Why aren’t you home with Franziska?”

Peter shrugged, “I…”

Charlotte shrugged it off and asked, “Last night, where was Helge? You said you ate dinner with him. Where was he afterwards?”

“What is this,” Peter asked her.

“In 1987, when you came to Winden, did your father still live in the cabin,” she asked the man.

Peter shook his head, “I don’t understand.”

“Did he or didn’t he,” Charlotte pressed on.

“No,” Peter shook his head, “After the accident he was moved into the nursing home.”

“And the summer before, in 86,” she asked.

Peter nodded, “I think so. Why do you want to know?”

“Did he use the bunker for anything?”

“Charlotte,” Peter approached her, “What do you want from me?”

She pulled the penny from out her jacket and showed it to him, “This is Helge’s. I found it in the bunker.”

Peter huffed and shook his head, “That...That can’t be. He was with us all night.” He answered his phone to hear that Helge had left the nursing home. He turned to her and said, “Helge’s at the police station and he made a confession.”

Annalise started to stir as she felt the atmosphere around her change. She was warm and cuddling something soft. This was very pleasant compared to last night and how horribly she slept then. She hummed happily, slowly waking up. She could hear a man and a very familiar boy’s voice talking.

Aleksander looked at his son in the rear view mirror with the girl snuggled up to him. “So,” he started to ask, “Is this the girl?”

Bartosz’s face flushed, “What do you mean?” He asked nervously. He started to awkwardly chuckle, “I mean, it’s just Annalise, Dad. You two have met before.”

“Have I,” Aleksander teased, “I don’t remember you telling me you liked her this much.” He chuckled, “You know I was around your age when I met your mom right?”

Bartosz thanked God that Annalise was asleep and couldn’t hear his father embarrassing him, or so he thought. Bartosz groaned, “You don’t have to embarrass me in front of her do you?”

Aleksander chuckled, “I thought she was asleep.”

“Still,” Bartosz complained. He looked over to the girl cuddled up to his side once more. A small smile graced his lips as he moved some of the hair from her face again. He couldn’t complain too much. The thought of her being like this with any other person ate him inside. So somewhere deep inside he knew that if they were together forever, that he would be happy.

When Peter and Charlotte reached the station, Peter asked his father, “Dad, why are you saying this? It makes no sense at all.” He turned to Woller and explained, “He didn’t leave the house. I was with him all night. Elisabeth was there too.”

Helge spoke again, “I killed the boy.”

“Dad,” Peter scolded the man, “Cut it out!”

Charlotte spoke up, “His things… The walkman. The clothes. Those are Mads Nielsen’s things, the boy who disappeared in 1986. Do you remember that?”

“I killed him,” Helge repeated.

“Who,” she asked, “Mads?”

Ulrich stormed into the station. He turned towards Helge and asked, “Where did you get his stuff?” The man rushed forward and grabbed onto the man despite Peter’s yells in protest, “What did you do to Mads?” He yelled at the older man, “What did you do to him?!”

“You’re alive,” Helge asked, staring at the man.

“What,” Ulrich asked.

Helge spoke, “It was you.”

“What was me,” Ulrich asked, pulling the man out of the chair as the other officers tried to pull Ulrich away from Helge.

“It was him,” Helge spoke, “It was him.” Helge held up the penny in his own things.

Charlotte looked down and unfolded her napkin to see the penny she had was still in her possession. It was the same coin, yet… two places at the same time.

Martha walked in the woods alone. She was determined to try and get to Annalise to talk to her when she heard a rustle in the bushes. When Jonas revealed himself from the shadows, she asked him, “What is this? Are you following me? Why won’t you tell me how we know each other? How you know Annalise?”

“Actually,” Jonas spoke, “You and I, we’ve always known each other.” When Martha swallowed, Jonas approached her, “When Magnus knocked your tooth out in kindergarten… I was there. When Mikkel put spiders in your shoes while camping in the yard… On the third grade class trip… when you were so homesick that Katharina had to come get you. You met Annalise and she told you how your father scared her because she didn’t know German really well to cheer you up on your first day back to school.” He whispered, “Where I come from, you and I share a past.”

Martha shook her head, “You’re nuts.” She turned to walk away from him.

“Last night,” Jonas told her, “in the forest. You saw yourself.” He shook his head and said, “I know how completely insane this all sounds. For the longest time, I too thought it was all totally crazy. That I was crazy.”

“Who are you really,” She asked the boy.

“I can show you,” Jonas explained, “How it’s all connected.”

It wasn’t long before they reached the Tiedemann abode. Annalise knew it was wrong to still pretend she was fully asleep, but when Bartosz scooped her up into his arms to carry her, she didn’t want it to stop. She listened as he mumbled to himself.

Bartosz debated on where to put Annalise, “I could put her in the guest bedroom. But that’s halfway across the house and what if she needs me? I am not going to put her on the couch. I know that much. But… My bedroom… would she be weirded out by that? Would-” He felt her move. He nearly dropped her from surprise. He panicked pulling her closer to him once more. He asked the girl, “Annalise?”

Annalise’s smile couldn’t contain itself any longer hearing his verbal debate. She let out a small giggle surprising the boy. She squealed as she felt herself drop for a moment before he grabbed her once again. The girl clung onto him. She turned to face him once more, “Yes?”

“How long have you been awake,” He asked, walking her into his room and gently placing her on his bed.

Annalise smiled and sat up. Still a little buzzed, she asked, “Do you really want to know?” She looked around his room. It was different. His room was full of dark colors and scattered books, diagrams, and hastily scribbled notes. There was an attached bathroom that seemed nice and light though. Yet still it felt like an empty shell. She yawned and turned to him as he helped remove his coat from her. Her voice strained as she looked at him beggingly, “Stay?”

In the other world, Jonas placed the ball into a large bowl. He walked to the control panel and started up the machine. He stared intently at it as the liquid slowly arose up and formed a ball. Sadly it was not enough energy to hold it.

After it dropped, the group converged on the bowl to investigate. Sensing someone was missing, Franziska looked up and around. After accounting for who was there, she asked, “Where’s Martha?”

The group all looked up to find the girl missing. Jonas, then, knew, she had lied to him.

Martha rushed back to her room and placed a new ball into her sphere and set it to go to her new objective.

The group walked into the bedroom just as she disappeared. Jonas turned to Bartosz and glared at him as if to say, ‘I told you.’

In the other world, Bartosz blushed and took a step back. He blinked wondering if he really heard what she had asked. He dropped the coat in his hands. He shook his head and bent down to pick it up. While he wasn’t staring at her, he asked, “Stay?” He slowly looked up to try and gauge her reaction.

Annalise nodded, “Please?” She grabbed one of his hands and pulled him towards the bed.

Breathless, Bartosz struggled out, “Wait. Just…” He held up the coat once more and slid his hand away so that he could go and put up his coat. His heart raced. He tried to calm himself as his back was turned to her. The boy knew his father wouldn’t care so he couldn’t use that as an excuse. He was shaking with nervousness. He really wished his mom was here so that she could help him with this. Annalise’s small voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Bartosz,” Annalise asked. When he turned his head, she blushed and asked, “Can I have some water?”

Bartosz nodded quickly and rushed out of the room closing the door behind him.

Martha followed Jonas to the cave. Right before she walked into it, she got a text from Annalise and Bartosz. The one from Annalise was her asking if Martha was okay and that Kilian had texted her to tell her what had happened. The text from Bartosz consisted of, ‘Annalise is staying over. Help?’ She shook her head and stared at Jonas.

Jonas looked at her and asked, “Is everything okay?”

Martha nodded, “Yeah.” She hid her heart breaking from the boy and started to follow behind him into the cave.

Helge stared at his hands as he sat in a cell.

Martha and Jonas continued through the caves as Charlotte turned away from Ulrich sitting sadly at his desk staring at the picture of him and Hannah.

Hannah walked into her and Ulrich’s bedroom to see the bed perfectly made up and her husband not there. She turned and walked out the door just as Jonas and Martha approached their door.

Eve looked down in her hand to look at Jonas’s Annalise’s necklace and then looked up at the pictures of Adam and Eve.

Bartosz walked to the kitchen and grabbed her bottled water. On his way back, he saw his dad.

Aleksander could read Bartosz’s hesitation all over his face. He chuckled and sat on one of the bar stools. “Something the matter,” He teased.

Bartosz jumped, “No. No. Nothing’s wrong. Everything’s good.” He blushed and tried to stand up taller to seem more confident. He ran his fingers through his hair, “What would be wrong? Everything is perfect.”

Aleksander chuckled, “Maybe the girl in your room?”

“What,” Bartosz unconvincingly laughed, “Annalise?” He shook his head with a giant uneasy smile, “No. There’s nothing…”

Aleksander laughed, “She woke up, didn’t she?”

“She wants me to stay,” Bartosz admitted, “I mean it’s not like it's the first time with someone, but like...What if she doesn’t just want to sleep? In my bed?”

Aleksander leaned on his elbow with his chin in his hand. He chuckled, “Well, it's just a question of if you’d want to, yeah?”

Bartosz’s face glowed, “It’s not just that simple. She’s… I…”

“So you don’t want to,” Aleksander asked.

Bartosz shook his head, “No! I mean… I’d like to, but she’s drunk…” He looked towards his room.

Aleksander nodded, "Well, have you tried talking to her about this?"

Bartosz blushed, "What? No. I… I mean I guess I can. I should."

Aleksander stood up and patted his son's shoulder, "I'm heading to sleep. Stay safe. Pleasant dreams." He walked back to his bedroom.

In the other world, Martha walked through the halls of the decrypted nuclear power plant on September 20, 2053, she walked into a room to be greeted by a gravely voice, “Did you give it to him?”

When Martha nodded, Adam turned to tell her, “I was always too gullible.” He turned back to look at the machine and said, “You did the right thing.”

Back in Eve’s World, Bartosz walked back into his bedroom to find Annalise not there. He heard the shower running and sighed in contentment. He blinked as he realized she didn't have a change of clothes. He knocked on the door and called, "do you need some clean clothes?"

The water stopped and he heard walking towards the door. She peeked her head out the door, "I'm sorry. I stole some of your pyjamas." She walked away to go grab it. Bartosz blushed seeing her naked form from the display of mirrors. He turned away with closed eyes. When she came back, she showed him what she stole. They were his soft plaid flannel ones that he loved. Not that he would admit that he loved them to his friends due to them being part of a matching set for his family and normally worn for celebrating holidays.

"Oh," Bartosz nodded, "okay." He turned away and told her, “You can let me know if you need anything else.”

The girl was very quick to walk out. His pants were extremely baggy on her due to his height over her. She was still buttoning the shirt and seemed to be having a bit of issues. She grumbled at the shirt, “Stupid ass buttons.” Eventually, she got it and smiled up at him, “Thank you.” Her face became a little bit more serious, “You know, you don’t have to stay if you don’t want to… I just thought… You know…”

“It’s not that I don’t want to,” He said hurriedly. His breath caught in his throat trying to explain, “I just didn’t want to make you feel like I’m taking advantage…”

Annalise smiled gently. She closed the distance between them and kissed him gently. She pulled away and shook her head, “You wouldn’t be. I’ve been wanting this.” She pressed her lips against his once more.

Bartosz smiled against the kiss then kissed her back. He wrapped his arms around her once again. He scooped her up once again. The boy walked them to his bed and gently sat down keeping her in his lap for the moment.

Annalise giggled against his lips and pulled them down so that they were laying down staring at each other. She smiled and asked, “Do you think that people are meant to meet?”

Bartosz nodded, “Yeah. I mean statistically it would be impossible for us to meet any other way.” He pulled them towards the head of the bed when he saw her yawn again. He chuckled, “You’re exhausted. Please allow yourself sleep. I will be right here in the morning.”

She yawned and nodded, “Promise?”

“Promise,” he kissed her head and tucked her in before going to get changed and showered himself.

Jonas walked with Martha into her 2052. He stumbled out seeing it so bright and more like a desert.

“What is this place,” Martha asked the boy as they walked through the blistering heat under the blazing sun. They looked around to see the debris of trees before just seeing a sandpit, “Where are we?” She turned to him and asked, “Did you do this? How did you do that?”

Jonas simply told the girl, “She told me to bring you here. That she’d explain it to you.”

“Who,” She asked. They turned to see a lone woman walking towards them. Martha asked, “Who is that?”

The woman stopped in front of them and took off her wraps to reveal herself, “Welcome to the future.”

#dark fanfic #dark netflix #dark fanfiction #yesterday once more fanfic #(they long to be) close to you fanfic #close to you fanfic #dark (netflix)#dark (2017)#dark (netflix) fanfic #dark (2017) fanfic #fix it fic

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fanficmepage · 4 years ago

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Chapter 3

Masterlist

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It's been two weeks since Raven has been home. She settled in quite nicely, everything fit her just right with a bit of room to grow into. Her favorite toy had become some small egg shakers, playing with the fox shaped one the most. She can’t quite grip it yet, but she enjoys the noise. Although her father’s finger still seems to be the one thing she prefers to hold. Raven even tried to put his finger in her mouth to Bruce’s dismay. Speaking of Bruce, he went back to his day job after a week with great hesitance. He knows Raven will be perfectly fine with Alfred, but she always seemed so attached to Bruce. It took the first week home to get Raven to be bottle-fed by Alfred, but she would stare at her father the entire time.

As for his nightly activities, he would still patrol, just weigh on the side of caution a bit more. He frequently would call the cave for updates, as if there weren't cameras around the mansion. Bruce did not like the idea of Raven down in the cave, that didn’t stop Alfred from setting up a portable playpen next to Bruce’s computer. Away from the workbench but close enough so Alfred can see her as he works as well. Even if neither liked the idea, it was necessary, Bruce needed Alfred down with him and Alfred needed Raven close. Raven didn’t seem to mind all that much, she liked watching the bright light of the screens and water raining down. Both men made sure Raven couldn’t see the graphic images that would pop up on the screen by either holding her away or covering the pen with a blanket. Another concern of her father’s was the climate of the cave. No matter what season, the cave was constantly chilly. Raven was thoroughly bundled up, nice warm onesie with a hood and fluffy gray blanket with extras just in case she gets colder. After Bruce found her, he did not want another trip to the hospital.

Raven had developed a bit from the time at the hospital. She began to start making sounds, her first one being a sneeze. She also tends to grunt when she can’t get the nipple of the bottle into her mouth. That was usually joined with the tiniest glare as she drank the formula. Raven still never cried for anything. The doctor said this sometimes occurs, Bruce and Alfred just have to pay a bit closer attention to her scheduling. Raven would eat every two and a half hours, play for about an hour or so, then fall back asleep after half an hour of rocking. That did cause some moments of frustration, they would think she finally fell asleep but her eyes were wide open when she got put back in the crib. It didn’t help that she would smile at them. Bruce knows she will be troublesome but just too cute to be upset with. Alfred has suggested having Raven sleep in the same bed as him during the times of difficulty putting her down. This came after one sight Alfred will never forget.

Bruce had just come home from patrol late into the night just as Raven was about to sleep. Bruce after removing the suit took her up to put her to bed, rocking her gently. Alfred stayed behind to finish up some filing. Knowing Bruce will have a bit of a hard time, he decided to check on them one last time before sleeping himself. The last thing he expected was to see his sudo son and granddaughter in the crib together, Bruce’s legs hanging out the side.

“Master Bruce,” pausing to find the right words, “what are you doing exactly?”

“She wouldn’t sleep unless I held her, this was the only option,” Bruce groaned. Alfred walked closer just to get the answer Bruce didn’t say. Bruce was on his back with the stuffed owl folded in half as a makeshift pillow. Raven laid face down on his torso. Her tiny hands gripped his shirt as hard as she could with the rise and fall of his chest. She kept her yellow binky in her mouth, gently sucking as she slept. Bruce turned his head towards Alfred, “I hope this doesn’t become a common occurrence, this isn’t the most comfortable position to sleep in.”

“Maybe we can get one of those baby body pillows for her to lay in when she has difficulty sleeping alone. It’s common for parents to let the child sleep in the bed with them.”

“Maybe, just don’t want to roll onto her or when she can roll off the bed.”

“She will be fine, Master Bruce. You already wake up to the slightest noise. It seems your new-found parental instincts kicked in. With how alert you are, our little bird is in perfect hands. Try to get a little comfortable Master Bruce, goodnight.” And with that Alfred left, not trying to hide the smile growing. Never once since Bruce had put on the cowl that he would ever become a grandfather. But here they are, starting a new family all because of that special little girl. There was only one concern: a mother. Bruce and he can raise the girl on their own, but two men can’t replace a maternal figure. Raven needs a mother, a female figure, to guide her. It's not like Bruce hasn’t had women in his life. Selena had come to mind when he thought of a mother. No other women really have gotten close to Bruce’s heart. Their relationship was still new, it was too soon to think about co-parenting. Even then, Batman wouldn’t allow real relationships, he knew this. Yet, she was still scheduled to arrive for dinner the next evening. Alfred would argue against this seeing as this will only lead to disaster, but it's hard to argue with that man sometimes, even if Alfred raised him.

The day goes the same, Alfred wakes up first and goes to prepare everyone’s breakfast while Bruce wakes up and gets Raven and himself ready for the day. Bruce would get dressed first while Raven was put on his bed. Then his attempt to get her into an onesie. He fights many criminals but the hardest one is keeping Raven still enough to get her dressed and swaddled.

“Every time you do this makes me wonder how the nurses did this in hospital, princess,” he whispered to her as he lifted her into his arms. Raven immediately reached for his tie and pulled into her mouth. Bruce pulled it back for Raven to only replace it with his hand, “I know you’re hungry, angel, just a minute, no need to eat my hand.”

Bruce turned at the sound of a chuckle in the doorway, Alfred walked in with a warmed bottle in hand, “someone is as impatient as her father.”

“Hasn’t even been here for two weeks and she is already taking after me?” Bruce chuckled, giving Raven her formula, her reaching to hold it, “not quite strong enough for that princess. Don’t rush it, you have plenty of time.”

“Already wishing her to never grow up? You are sounding like your father.”

“Maybe, hopefully, I can be half the man he was for her. Not like I can be both parents.”

“Moving on sir, Ms. Kyle will be here for dinner, Master Bruce, I assume you remember making that arrangement?” Alfred knew full well he did not remember.

“I assume that it is too late to cancel? It might be best to wait a bit.”

“If you are concerned about the little bird, I will gladly watch our little bird while you enjoy your evening. Parents do deserve some breaks.” Bruce wasn’t too sure but no reasonable excuse to cancel. Selina would have to find out about Raven eventually, but will their relationship go anywhere. He knows about her nightly activities, but she will never know about Batman. No one will ever know if he could keep Raven from it he would. It’s a solitary life he chose. Well, maybe not so solitaire with Alfred and Raven.

After a long day of meetings and coming home to what seemed to be a grumpy baby, Bruce started to get on board with the short break. Raven would probably be asleep for most of it anyway. He already put her to sleep in his arms just about ten minutes before his date. He and Alfred will see how long that lasts. Bruce slightly hoped to see Alfred in the same position he was in last night. What’s a couple of hours spending time with a woman gonna do?

“Ms. Kyle is here sir. I’ll take our little bird, dinner is already set, please enjoy your evening,” without giving Bruce a chance to further protest Alfred disappearing into the hallway. And so the night shall begin.

After two hours, Bruce finally relaxed a bit. Had some wine, talked about work; finally connected with someone in a somewhat personal way.

“You know, Bruce,” Selina laughed, grazing his forearm with her fingertips, “this isn’t what I expected.”

“I do tend to prefer home dinner dates. More intimate, allows me to get to know someone a bit better,” this evident lie. He just wanted to stay by Raven, just in case, “I hope that isn’t a problem?”

“Of course not, unless you planned there to be a bit more intimacy than just, ‘getting to know someone?’”

“Well, that would depend on-”

As Bruce leaned in closer, a loud cry can be heard from the baby monitor Alfred had wired in the kitchen. Then the sound of glass breaking. Before Selina had time to question, Bruce was halfway down the hall. Listening to the sounds of once mute infant grow louder.

Hey guys, thank you for sticking around and reading my au. I love to here from you all and I am quite curious, which batman do you imagine in this? I mean like Patterson, Affleck, West, etc.

Photo by Tuva Mathilde Løland on Unsplash

#Batman #bruce wayne imagine #Bruce Wayne #raven roth #dc au #family au #fan fiction

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