#slamming my head against the wall because of the whole 13 songs thing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

the-king-andthe-lionheart · 3 years ago

Text

The Fundamentals of Gendrya

So I just want to establish the possible foreshadowing Arya and Gendry have that hints at a possible romantic relationship in the future, as well as the romantic undertones present in their story. I’m not really going to focus on symbolism in this meta (although it will come up a couple of times in a minor way), as that will be a focus for future meta. This is only meant to establish the fundamental basics.

First I want to say that when I’m talking about the romantic possibility of Gendrya, I mean future Gendrya, as in once Arya is older. However I will posit and say that because we are viewing this in the world of Westeros (in a pseudo Medieval world that GRRM exaggerated and sensationalized from real Medieval sources as well as rumor) and because GRRM has established he has no problems with placing his younger characters in romantic or sexual situations (see Mercy TWOW) I think it would be remiss to think GRRM would not take Arya and Gendry here if that was his plan all along. After all, there is plenty of precedent.

This also leads me to remind everyone that Gendry is not an adult when he meets Arya, and the age gap between the two is one of the least egregious age gaps in the books as most of the age gaps are between adult men in their 20’s and 30’s with 12-16 year old girl’s. I think a lot of people think of the age gap as Arya being 9 the whole time and Gendry being 16, but this is in fact wrong. According to the timeline, Arya and Gendry meet at the beginning of 299 AC, right around Arya’s 10th birthday. In 299 AC Gendry was only 13/14 years old. He was born in 284 AC and is not the same age as Robb and Jon, like Ned surmises. Gendry is just big for his age, and it’s highly likely Gendry doesn’t even know how old he is. When Arya and Gendry separate in ASOS Arya is almost 11 while Gendry is 14/15 years old.

Regardless, this is fiction, and doesn’t reflect real world morals. So what I’m getting at is that if anyone disagrees with this meta because of their ages I suggest you don’t read any further.

Foreshadowing

Our first hint of foreshadowing happens in Arya’s very first chapter:

She frowned down at them with dismay and glanced over to where her sister Sansa sat among the other girls. Sansa's needlework was exquisite. Everyone said so. “Sansa's work is as pretty as she is,” Septa Mordane told their lady mother once. “She has such fine, delicate hands.” When Lady Catelyn had asked about Arya, the septa had sniffed. “Arya has the hands of a blacksmith.” - Arya I AGOT

This quote is later followed up with:

[...] “I ruined that gown Lady Smallwood gave me, and I don't sew so good.” She chewed her lip. “I don't sew very well, I mean. Septa Mordane used to say I had a blacksmith's hands.”

Gendry hooted. “Those soft little things,” he called out. “You couldn't even hold a hammer.” - Arya VII ASOS

In the same book Lem Lemoncloak says this to Gendry:

“You must be a lackwit, boy,” said Lem. “We're outlaws. Lowborn scum, most of us, except for his lordship. Don't think it'll be like Tom's fool songs neither. You won't be stealing no kisses from a princess, nor riding in no tourneys in stolen armor. You join us, you'll end with your neck in a noose, or your head mounted up above some castle gate.” - Arya VII ASOS

At this point Arya is indeed a princess, but Lem also makes an obvious reference (to the audience) to the Knight of the Laughing Tree, which I think we can safely say was Lyanna. The fact that Lyanna is Arya’s literary mirror, tells me we can connect Arya to Lem’s comment, not to mention the inclusion of “princess” just kind of seals the deal. We also know that Arya is the spitting image of Lyanna and Gendry the spitting image of Robert Baratheon. I think it’s worth noting also that after Acorn Hall, Lem takes it upon himself to make sure nothing untoward happens between Arya and Gendry (he thought Gendry was taking advantage of Arya after they wrestled) as he starts sleeping in between them, which is seen in Arya V ASOS when they are at The Peach. Lem saying “Don’t think it’ll be like Tom’s fool songs neither” is also interesting because at Acorn Hall we specifically get Tom singing a love song directed towards Arya and Gendry.

Speaking of Lyanna and Robert being reflections of Arya (in both appearance and personality) and Gendry (in appearance for the most part) this is said in Eddard I AGOT:

We were meant to rule together. If Lyanna had lived, we should have been brothers, bound by blood as well as affection. Well, it is not too late. I have a son. You have a daughter. My Joff and your Sansa shall join our houses, as Lyanna and I might once have done."

Now this quote may be referring to Sansa and Joffrey, but I do think it’s foreshadowing for Gendrya and this is just a misdirect. After all, Joffrey is not Robert Baratheon’s son by blood, but Gendry is, even though he is illegitimate. To me this also sounds like a promise. When you think about it, the story truly begins at the Tourney of Harrenhal with the events that broke the betrothal between Lyanna and Robert, so it would be very cyclical for the ending to do what the beginning could not, binding a Stark and a Baratheon together in marriage.

There are also several references about Arya marrying an apprentice/blacksmith:

“[...] Or if it is marriage and children you desire, tell me, and we shall find a husband for you. Some honest apprentice boy, a rich old man, a seafarer, whatever you desire.” - Arya II AFFC

We also have a comment made by Jaime:

“Not all,” said Jaime. “Lord Eddard's daughters live. One has just been wed. The other...” Brienne, where are you? Have you found her? “...if the gods are good, she'll forget she was a Stark. She'll wed some burly blacksmith or fat-faced innkeep, fill his house with children, and never need to fear that some knight might come along to smash their heads against a wall.” - Jaime I ADWD

Now I know what you are going to say, that Jaime is referring to Sansa possibly marrying a blacksmith or innkeep, but if it weren’t for Jaime’s thought’s in the middle towards Brienne, you’d never guess which Stark daughter he is referring to because Sansa was only just recently married as well. Also it’s Arya who is associated with a blacksmith (Gendry) and a fat-faced innkeep (Hot Pie). So while Jaime is referring to Sansa here I think we are meant to actually look at the reality behind this and reverse the foreshadowing back onto Arya, because it wasn’t Arya who was recently wed, that was Sansa. It’s also Arya who is legitimately trying to forget she was a Stark (Sansa isn’t trying to forget, she is only pretending to be Alayne to ensure her protection) and like I mentioned it’s Arya who had a blacksmith and future employee at an inn as companions for two novels. So I think it’s a foreshadowing switcheroo. And I think it’s also worth mentioning that while Jaime sent Brienne out to save Sansa, Brienne spends her whole journey almost exclusively hearing news and following leads about Arya.

There is also a reference in Brienne VII AFFC that makes mention that Arya may marry an apprentice boy:

Gendry was the closest thing to a man grown, but it was Willow shouting all the orders, as if she were a queen in her castle and the other children were no more than servants.

If she were highborn, command would come naturally to her, and deference to them. Brienne wondered whether Willow might be more than she appeared. The girl was too young and too plain to be Sansa Stark, but she was of the right age to be the younger sister, and even Lady Catelyn had said that Arya lacked her sister's beauty. Brown hair, brown eyes, skinny...could it be? Arya Stark's hair was brown, she recalled, but Brienne was not sure about the color of her eyes. Brown and brown, was that it? Could it be that she did not die at Saltpans after all?

“One day that little girl [Willow] will make some man a frightful wife,” Ser Hyle observed. “That poor 'prentice boy [Gendry], most like.”

Willow is very obviously a Arya stand-in which makes this specific quote about Arya and Gendry, not Willow and Gendry.

Arya IV ASOS has the strongest case for future romantic Gendrya. Not only does Gendry follow after Arya and invite her to look at the forge, Gendry opens up to her about his life right before he was uprooted, and does this:

Gendry reached out with the tongs as if to pinch her face, but Arya swatted them away.

Gendry is being playful and open with Arya during most of this scene in the forge, teasing her in a manner that verges on flirting, telling her a story about his past, laughing and having fun with Arya. And then this happens:

Gendry put the hammer down and looked at her. “You look different now. Like a proper little girl.”

“I look like an oak tree, with all these stupid acorns.”

“Nice, though. A nice oak tree.” He stepped closer, and sniffed at her. “You even smell nice for a change.”

“You don't. You stink.” Arya shoved him back against the anvil and made to run, but Gendry caught her arm. She stuck a foot between his legs and tripped him, but he yanked her down with him, and they rolled across the floor of the smithy. He was very strong, but she was quicker. Every time he tried to hold her still she wiggled free and punched him. Gendry only laughed at the blows, which made her mad. He finally caught both her wrists in one hand and started to tickle her with the other, so Arya slammed her knee between his legs, and wrenched free. Both of them were covered in dirt, and one sleeve was torn on her stupid acorn dress. “I bet I don't look so nice now,” she shouted.

Gendry compliments Arya’s looks and scent, only for Arya to think he’s teasing her about her appearance due to her intense insecurity when it comes to highborn conformation (Gendry’s laugh when he first saw her didn’t help matters in her insecurity even though Gendry most likely only laughed out of being startled at her transformation). This insecurity leads Arya into getting angry and starting a wrestling match with him. This wrestling scene also directly follows Jaime and Brienne’s very sexually charged sword fight, and could also be interpreted as foreshadowing a romantic and potentially sexual relationship in the future, like theirs did, when they are older.

Now I’m not saying that I think Gendrya is going to go NC-17 in the books, but I do think it’s likely to go PG-13 by the end of ADOS, considering we have precedent that GRRM has no qualms about writing these types of things as I mentioned above, and we know Arya is going to be 12 in TWOW and may be at least 14-15 when the series ends depending on how much GRRM can spread out the timeline in the next two books. But considering the amount of stuff that needs to happen, I think the next two books will span 2-3 years before the epilogue begins.

Then there is the love song GRRM specifically wrote for Arya. A song that has only appeared in one chapter, Arya’s chapter:

“My featherbed is deep and soft,

and there I'll lay you down,

I'll dress you all in yellow silk,

and on your head a crown.

For you shall be my lady love,

and I shall be your lord.

I'll always keep you warm and safe,

and guard you with my sword.

“And how she smiled and how she laughed,

the maiden of the tree.

She spun away and said to him,

no featherbed for me.

I'll wear a gown of golden leaves,

and bind my hair with grass,

But you can be my forest love,

and me your forest lass.”

Now we know this song is about them because when Tom O’Sevens is singing it, he winks at Arya, and later Lady Smallwood specifically says to Arya “I have no gowns of leaves”. The song specifically mentions yellow – a Baratheon color – and depicts the free spirited “Maiden of the Tree” who wants love on her own terms, which sounds like what an older, flowered version of Arya would want if she fell in love.

Romantic Undertones

Arya’s Crush

As she passed the armory, Arya heard the ring of a hammer. A deep orange glow shone through the high windows. She climbed to the roof and peeked down. Gendry was beating out a breastplate. When he worked, nothing existed for him but metal, bellows, fire. The hammer was like part of his arm. She watched the play of muscles in his chest and listened to the steel music he made. He's strong, she thought. As he took up the long-handled tongs to dip the breastplate into the quenching trough, Arya slithered through the window and leapt down to the floor beside him. - Arya IX ACOK

It’s very subtle but this paragraph tells us everything. Arya unintentionally reveals in this quote that she watches Gendry blacksmithing enough to know that the world falls away when he’s in his element. She watches the play of muscles in his back and notes how strong he is and even attaches poetic language to his work. Arya has a crush on Gendry. It’s not acknowledged and it’s likely she doesn’t understand it herself, but this seems to be the truth of it, especially with the way GRRM worded this. I don’t know how many times I’ve read a romance where the protagonist studies their love interest while watching the “play of muscles” in their back or their arms. It’s also interesting to note that Arya always mentions specifics about Gendry’s looks and notes details about him:

He blinked at her, startled. Strands of thick black hair, still wet from the bathhouse, fell across his deep blue eyes. "I'd hurt you." - Arya II ACOK

"It's me they want," Arya whispered back. His ear smelled of soap. "You be quiet." - Arya II ACOK

When she spied Gendry, his bare chest was slick with sweat, but the blue eyes under the heavy black hair had the stubborn look she remembered. - Arya VIII ACOK

"She's not alone." Gendry rode out from behind the cottage wall, and behind him Hot Pie, leading her horse. In his chainmail shirt with a sword in his hand, Gendry looked almost a man grown, and dangerous. Hot Pie looked like Hot Pie. - Arya II ASOS

Now most of these I’d normally chalk up to the author just being descriptive, but if that’s the case, why don’t we know more about Hot Pie’s looks, who Arya spent nearly a year with at the same time as Gendry? Why does she take special time out to describe Gendry so much? Honestly I think part of it is to keep reminding us that Gendry is a secret Baratheon bastard, but that doesn’t explain the first quote about Arya watching the “play of muscles” in his back and noting how strong he is. So I think it’s a combination of GRRM wanting to remind the audience that Gendry is a Baratheon and to also subtly show us that Arya has an innocent crush on him, but doesn’t know or acknowledge that this is the case out loud.

Their Mutual Jealousy

Starting after the events of Acorn Hall in Arya IV ASOS, it’s obvious that something shifts in Arya and Gendry’s relationship. One aspect is that Gendry can no longer ignore that Arya is indeed a highborn girl after seeing her for the first time dressed up as one. He knows what class differences will mean for their friendship. And another aspect, is that Gendry acknowledges that he may be romantically interested in Arya, or at least acknowledges the potential for those feelings to emerge in time. And because of this, combined with their class differences, Gendry knows that if he follows Arya to Riverrun where her mother and brother are, he would end up watching Arya grow into someone he could romantically love, only for her to be torn away from him due to an arranged marriage. Both of these aspects play a factor in why we see Gendry become more outwardly scathing towards highborns in the chapters following this and why his behavior seems to become one rife with jealousy.

In Arya V ASOS the Brotherhood Without Banners travel to The Peach and both of the above aspects I spoke of are present in this chapter:

"You don't even know what a brothel is."

"I do so," she insisted. "It's like an inn, with girls."

He was turning red again. "What are you doing here, then?" he demanded. "A brothel's no fit place for no bloody highborn lady, everybody knows that."

And when Gendry protects Arya from a pervert by saying that she’s his sister, this is what goes down:

"Why did you say that?" Arya hopped to her feet. "You're not my brother."

"That's right," he said angrily. "I'm too bloody lowborn to be kin to m'lady high."

Arya was taken aback by the fury in his voice. "That's not the way I meant it."

"Yes it is." He sat down on the bench, cradling a cup of wine between his hands. "Go away. I want to drink this wine in peace. Then maybe I'll go find that black-haired girl and ring her bell for her."

Arya doesn’t really understand the intentions of the pervert, despite knowing of sex, and is confused on why Gendry would say that he’s her brother, but when she asks him, he takes it the wrong way since he is already so sensitive about their class differences at this point in their story. That last paragraph is what makes this exchange really interesting though. Why would Gendry say this, when it’s already made clear and established in this chapter that Gendry has no intentions of sleeping with any of the girls, even when it’s offered to him for free? He is very obviously lying to try to get a rise out of Arya and the only way this makes sense is if we put it under a romantic lens.

Then we have this:

Arya whirled and left him there. A stupid bullheaded bastard boy, that's all he is. He could ring all the bells he wanted, it was nothing to her.

Now considering Arya’s defense mechanism (the mechanism that has her calling things or people stupid when she’s hurt or feeling inadequate by them to try to make the pain and hurt not seem so severe) the fact that she calls Gendry a “stupid bullheaded bastard boy” and proclaims Gendry ringing the bells of any girl was “nothing to her” tells us that it matters to her and that she’s upset. This is further reiterated in Arya VIII ASOS:

Arya wished she had another crabapple to bounce off his face. "My father had honor," she said angrily. "And we weren't talking to you anyway. Why don't you go back to Stoney Sept and ring that girl's stupid bells?"

So here we have Arya mention this three chapters later, likely weeks if not months later. If Arya didn’t care about Gendry ringing “all the bells he wanted” then why is she still so hurt and jealous? She’s obviously been stewing about this for a while.

In this same chapter we also see gems from Gendry that clearly proclaim that he’s still plagued about his class differences to Arya. It also clearly shows that Gendry is jealous of Edric Dayne once Arya befriends him, especially since she befriended someone highborn, like her, who just so happens to be a boy who we know has nearly the same coloring as Rhaegar Targaryen, which evokes the history repeating motif that is present in Arya’s arc of the Rhaegar/Lyanna/Robert love triangle.

"You have a knife," Gendry suggested. "If your hair annoys you so much, shave your bloody head."

He doesn't like Ned. The squire seemed nice enough to Arya; maybe a little shy, but good-natured. She had always heard that Dornishmen were small and swarthy, with black hair and small black eyes, but Ned had big blue eyes, so dark that they looked almost purple. And his hair was a pale blond, more ash than honey. - Arya VIII ASOS

And

"My lady?" Ned looked embarrassed. "I'm Edric Dayne, the . . . the Lord of Starfall."

Behind them, Gendry groaned. "Lords and ladies," he proclaimed in a disgusted tone. Arya plucked a withered crabapple off a passing branch and whipped it at him, bouncing it off his thick bull head. "Ow," he said. "That hurt." He felt the skin above his eye. "What kind of lady throws crabapples at people?"

"The bad kind," said Arya, suddenly contrite.

Gendry continues to encapsulate “ours is the fury” during Arya’s whole exchange with Edric Dayne.

I do want to add that I know Gendry’s class issues have always been there, and it’s definitely been made even more apparent to him during the War of the Five Kings during his time in the wartorn Riverlands with Arya, so it’s not exactly that far-fetched that Gendry may become even more sensitive and/or bitter about it. However, this extremity of his behavior only happened after Acorn Hall where he saw Arya looking like the highborn girl she is. And while I do believe part of Gendry’s increase of bitterness about their class differences does have to do with potential romantic feelings, I also think it has to do with Gendry also coming to terms with the fact that Arya’s family is also directly responsible for the carnage they have seen and experienced (even though he doesn’t blame Arya, as she seems to be one of Gendry’s exceptions when it comes to his dislike of the nobility). If it weren’t for the blatant flirting on his behalf in the forge at Acorn Hall and the jealousy, I would honestly chalk it up to Gendry trying to reconcile his own trauma and anger regarding highborns, including Arya’s family’s sins, but alas, that is not completely the case.

Post Separation

When Arya is kidnapped by the Hound and witnesses the Red Wedding, Arya contemplates where she may go and this crosses her thoughts in a very romanticized light:

She could stay with Hot Pie, or maybe Lord Beric would find her there. Anguy would teach her to use a bow, and she could ride with Gendry and be an outlaw, like Wenda the White Fawn in the songs.

But that was just stupid, like something Sansa might dream. - Arya XII ASOS

The fact that Arya follows this thought up with “that was just stupid, like something Sansa might dream” tells us specifically what type of fantasy this is. Arya isn’t fantasizing about an adventure, she’s fantasizing about love and romance, considering those are the types of flights of fancy Sansa always loses herself in. Now Arya isn’t outright rejecting the possibility of romance here, because there is more to that second paragraph:

But that was just stupid, like something Sansa might dream. Hot Pie and Gendry had left her just as soon as they could, and Lord Beric and the outlaws only wanted to ransom her, just like the Hound. None of them wanted her around. They were never my pack, not even Hot Pie and Gendry. I was stupid to think so, just a stupid little girl, and no wolf at all.

She rejects the possibility because she remembers that Hot Pie and Gendry abandoned her as soon as they could, and that all the Brotherhood did was use her, according to her perspective on the matter. And her perspective is entirely skewed because of her abandonment and low self-esteem issues, as well as not fully understanding the class issues as she honestly didn’t think that bringing Hot Pie and Gendry to Riverrun and Winterfell would cause any issues with their friendships, which is understandable for a kid to think. Especially one that hadn’t been in the highborn world for the past year and a half. In fact, Medieval children in the real world and in the books, weren’t reprimanded for playing together regardless of class, usually the highborn children played with the children of those who worked and lived within the castle walls, from other lords children to stewards children to the helps children. It’s just something children did until they reached a certain age where it just wasn’t allowed anymore. So it’s only natural for this not to really factor into Arya’s plans.

When Arya is about to walk into the House of Black and White, Arya comforts her fear with a memory of Gendry:

Suddenly she was somewhere else . . . back in Harrenhal with Gendry [...] - Arya I AFFC

Which indicates that Gendry is still very much on her mind at this point. I think it really says something as well that Arya takes comfort from a memory at Harrenhal of all places. I think this indicates how much comfort she took from their friendship. I also think she doesn’t think about Gendry with the Brotherhood to take her comfort because while ASOS has the most romantic foreshadowing for them and the two shared some nice moments, it was also the start of them truly fracturing, or so her unreliable narration interpreted it as. After all, she actually thought that Gendry was making fun of her looks at Acorn Hall, and she thought Gendry didn’t want to be her friend anymore as he “abandoned her” for the Brotherhood. So while Harrenhal was awful and they had their disagreements there, Arya still felt reassured with his companionship and likely found it uncomplicated in comparison to her other problems at the time.

When we next see Gendry in Brienne VII AFFC we see a drastically different Gendry. While Gendry has always been guarded and sullen with a chip on his shoulder, with little love for the nobility, this change is drastic enough where it’s unsettling to read at first. Not only is Gendry just flat out rude in a very mean way but he is filled with rage. Gendry joined the Brotherhood because he liked how they handled justice, but under Lady Stoneheart there is no justice and he doesn’t seem to mind. His beliefs have shifted as well.

And though his eyes had been that same deep blue, Lord Renly's eyes had always been warm and welcoming, full of laughter, whereas this boy's eyes brimmed with anger and suspicion.

Septon Meribald asked if he might lead the children in a grace, ignoring the small girl crawling naked across the table. "Aye," said Willow, snatching up the crawler before she reached the porridge. So they bowed their heads together and thanked the Father and the Mother for their bounty . . . all but the black-haired boy from the forge, who crossed his arms against his chest and sat glowering as the others prayed. Brienne was not the only one to notice. When the prayer was done Septon Meribald looked across the table, and said, "Do you have no love for the gods, son?"

"Not for your gods." Gendry stood abruptly. "I have work to do." He stalked out without a bite of food.

Gendry was at his forge, bare-chested beneath his leather apron. He was beating on a sword as if he wished it were a foe [...]

What would a knight be doing working at a smithy? "You have black hair and blue eyes, and you were born in the shadow of the Red Keep. Has no one ever remarked upon your face?"

"What's wrong with my face? It's not as ugly as yours."

Lord Renly was ahead of her, her sweet smiling king. He was leading her horse through the trees. Brienne called out to tell him how much she loved him, but when he turned to scowl at her, she saw that he was not Renly after all. Renly never scowled. He always had a smile for me, she thought . . . except . . .

While some people chalk up Gendry’s behavior as a result of trauma about what he experienced in the Riverlands, and I don’t deny that is a factor, I don’t believe it’s the only factor because we didn’t see Gendry like this post Harrenhal or even with the Brotherhood in ASOS. Yes he embodied “ours is the fury” at times and was jealous and bitter, and rude at times as well, but he wasn’t flat out cruel to people, nor filled with rage and vengeance. The Gendry before Arya was taken would never have led Brienne to Lady Stoneheart for the slaughter after she tried to save everyone in that Inn against Rorge and Biter and co. We can also see another difference in Gendry:

Lightning cracked to the south as the riders swung down off their horses. For half a heartbeat darkness turned to day. An axe gleamed silvery blue, light shimmered off mail and plate, and beneath the dark hood of the lead rider Brienne glimpsed an iron snout and rows of steel teeth, snarling.

Gendry saw it too. "Him."

While there is no emphasis on the “him” when Gendry sees the Hound’s helm, it’s an abrupt and emotionless statement. It’s one word without emphasis but it conveys a lot. Gendry recognizes the Hound’s helm and it’s apparent he’s not happy, thinking that it was indeed the Hound for a minute. And while I’m trying to avoid discussing symbolism, I just can’t ignore how the lightning that cracked in the south could also be symbolic of Gendry’s true mood. He is, after all, a bastard Baratheon, connected to the storm, the fury - thunder and lightning - as well as sharing a connection to the god, Thor in our mythology. This lightning could symbolically be linked to Gendry’s anger and vengeance. So why does Gendry act like this when he sees who he thinks is the Hound again? He had no issue with the Hound during his trial by combat, so what changed? The Hound kidnapped Arya. And while he knows Arya didn’t die at the Red Wedding, he and the Brotherhood aren’t entirely sure if the Hound sold Arya to the Lannister’s and if she is now Arya Bolton. So it makes complete sense why he would have issues with the Hound. In fact I think a lot of this behavior we are seeing from Gendry is the direct result of the Hound kidnapping Arya and not knowing if she’s dead or being brutally raped and tortured in the North.

Why do I think this? Because this behavior began between Arya being kidnapped in ASOS and Brienne VII AFFC. Only a few to a handful of months have passed since then. This, I believe, is the inciting incident. Another reason why I believe Arya is the reason is because of what he is doing. He is staying at the Crossroads Inn, one of the last known places Arya was sighted, and he’s helping take care of orphaned children. Arya took in strays as well and cared for them, like Weasel. And considering how Gendry in ACOK wanted to leave Weasel and Hot Pie and Lommy behind, it’s interesting to see that he’s helping by taking in strays himself now, as if he thinks he may be able to atone for not saving Arya. Another reason is because the Brotherhood is actively searching for Arya as well. She is ever present on their minds. So yes, I believe part of Gendry’s change has to do with losing Arya, which goes to show how much he really cared about her. Not to mention (a tiny bit more symbolism, oopsie!), Gendry’s stay at the inn, waiting for Arya to return (I believe Gendry and the BWB are hoping that Arya is alive and will return to the inn) is a romantic aspect to the mythology of Weyland the Smith and his Swan Maiden/Valkyrie, and the aspect about the Brotherhood + Gendry searching the realm for Arya is also a romantic Cinderella motif, hence why I feel Gendry’s behavior here is supposed to have romantic subtext.

Extra: Another interesting aspect that I think foreshadows this future relationship is the meaning of Gendry’s name. Gendry is a nickname type of surname for a person who has inherited his family estates from his father-in-law, deriving its origin from the Old French word “gendre,” which meant “son-in-law.” And as we know if Arya and Gendry married when they were older, Arya wouldn’t be taking his name, but he hers, due to her higher status. So by marrying into the Stark family, he would be inheriting from his father-in-law Ned so to speak, even if it’s just inheriting the surname.

So this is everything I’ve compiled so far about Gendrya, that relies on just their foreshadowing and romantic undertones in the texts we have available but I’m positive I’ll be adding more to this list once TWOW officially releases. However, I still have a lot more to share that focuses on their symbolism and motifs throughout the story, so I’m definitely not done making Gendrya meta, far from it and I can’t wait to share it with you all!

And if anyone is interested in Arya’s and by extension Gendrya’s Cinderella motifs, you can find it at this link: A Dream is a Wish Your Heart Makes.

#arya stark #gendry waters #gendry baratheon #gendrya #asoiaf

356 notes · View notes

min-chery · 3 years ago

Text

In the way | KTH

Pairing: Artist! Taehyung x Sound therapist! Reader

Rating: PG-13

Genre: angst

Warnings: Swearing, Both MCs have a sad past :( , side pairing Yoongi x Jungkook and Jimin x Hoseok is mentioned.

Word count: 2.4k

A/n: This is an excerpt from my ongoing series ‘Sky’ that is posted on Wattpad. I’ll insert the link right here if you want to check it out.

Also I have no much knowledge in sound therapy. So if you find any points inaccurate, you can leave it for me in the ask box!~

“Is that all you’ll need?” Taehyung asks, looking at the one bag that sits on the passenger seat of your car.

"Yes. Everyone in our team decided to split up and bring the necessities. I was in charge of lunch. So... this is enough." you reply. You had packed enough food for 8 people to eat one afternoon, a change of clothes, your laptop and sound equipment.

It had been three months since the two of you started dating. The two of you spent almost all of your free time with each other. A lot of time spent in each others’ homes and even met at each others’ places of work for lunch. One thing the two of you did in common at all places was make out.

It seemed impossible to keep your hands and lips to yourselves. Kissing against the wall, on the table, on the couch, on the bed and even on the living room floor. Too many times you’ve been walked in on, but you cannot bring yourselves to be fazed by it.

And now, you are getting ready for a project with your sound therapy group at a mountain a little far away. Another group that had been there before had claimed that the variety of birds that reside in the area make the most beautiful songs in the early hours. It was enough motivation for your group to decide to have a trip and record some of it.

"Okay. I think we're all done here." you sigh, standing on the tip of your toes and pulling Taehyung in for a hug by his shoulder. And he slumps into the embrace, nuzzling his face into your open hair. You rub his back, feeling your boyfriend yawn into your blue tresses.

"Still tired? You can go sleep, baby." you say, lifting his head and squishing his face in your palms. He shakes his head, pouting while his grip on your waist tightens.

"Go on, sweetheart. It's only 4am yet. You go catch up with some sleep, yeah?" you usher, wanting to see him well-rested and chirpy when you return in the evening. But he doesn't seem to want to oblige.

"Can't. Our best friends are too loud in there." He whines, eyes half closed as he falls back onto your shoulder. You laugh, happy for the two who are so in love.

"There won't be a disturbance anymore. I'm about to leave too." Yoongi joins in, with Jungkook holding his hand. Both of their hair are ruffled, sticking up at random places and clothes crumpled. Both look utterly ruined with blushes decorating their cheeks.

"Drop me off at my place, will you?" Yoongi asks you, placing a kiss at the side of Jungkook's head. He smiles at Taehyung as he gets into the passenger seat.

"Bye, Tae. See you later." you speak, pressing a kiss on his cold, red nose. Taehyung reluctantly lets go, pouting as he waves you goodbye. He watches you slip into the driver's seat and disappear into the morning.

"Aren't you tired? Come sleep with hyung." He tells a very drowsy Jungkook who's rubbing at his eyes, a sleeping yawn falling from his own lips.

***

It's around 1 pm when Taehyung calls you. You close your lunchbox that is almost finished, excusing yourself from the group.

"Tae bear!" you exclaim into the phone, voice full of cheer.

"Hey baby!" Taehyung replies, voice equally gleeful.

"How's the recording coming along?" he asks, sounds of a window being opened accompanying his voice from his side of the line.

"It went good, baby. Maybe we should come here on a date together some time. The view looks like one of the pictures you painted. Too beautiful."

"Maybe we should. Have you had your food yet, darling?" He asks and you hum into the receiver.

"Planning on returning yet? Or do you still have work to get done?"

"Why? Miss me already?"

"You know I do." Taehyung laughs.

"Our work is done but we found an amazing free climbing trail close by. Decided to check it out. And it's for beginners too." Leah says, expecting an enthusiastic response back. But all you's left with is stillness from the other line.

And then comes the shuffling, the sound of something falling down and Taehyung's muted cursing.

"What do you mean free climbing?" His voice somehow feels distant, piercing Leah through her heart.

"You know, rock climbing. And the ropes are going to assist me if I fall." you tentatively answer.

"And you thought it was okay to do that without telling me?"

"I didn't know I had to ask my boyfriend before I did things." Both of you speak with an edge to your voices, as if the sole purpose was to hurt one another.

"See ___. I understand that you have to climb up cliffs and dangerously high places for work. But this seems really unnecessary. I really need you to stop doing these things. Are you even aware of how many accidents take place during things like this?"

"You don't tell me what's necessary and what's not. I do it because it makes me happy. And I'm not going to let you stand in the way of my happiness."

"You can do whatever the fuck you want! I don't care anymore!" Taehyung yells. It has you flinching, lips wobbling from unpleasant memories of the past swarming you.

"Don't yell at me." you shout back, unable to hide the tremble in your voice. Taehyung is breathing hard into your ears through the phone.

"And it's not the first time I've noticed you clam up when I talk about going like this. You need to tell me whatever the fuck is your problem if you-" you never get to complete what you start from Taehyung abruptly ending the call.

Your hands tremble at your sides, knees feeling weak. It had been true when you said Taehyung clams up when such matters are brought up. Avoiding looking you in the eye and slowly drifting away from the conversation with an uncomfortable smile. It was clear he hated heights at this point.

But the extent to it was only now becoming clear when the ever calm yet cheerful Taehyung raised his voice. It seemed more of fear and frustration than anger towards you. But you weren't going to let him get away with yelling at you knowing how it affected you.

You make your way back to your group who are waiting for you with their bags on their back and smiles on their lips. Forcing a smile of your own, you sling the bag onto your back.

Like you said, you weren't going to let a guy get in the way of your happiness. No matter how much you love him.

***

Taehyung draws deft lines on the page of his new sketchbook with a charcoal pencil. He sighs, hating the texture of the pages with the kind of pencil he’s using. Everything blurs when he feels the tears rise. Hurt and shame surge through his veins for raising his voice at you. He looks out the window of the diner, watching droplets of rain wash over the street. For a minute he wonders what the two of you would've been doing in this weather had you not fought. Would the two of you be drinking a mug of hot cocoa at your apartment as you watch a movie on the couch? Or would the two of you have been watching the rain while cuddling on the swing in his balcony and being huddled in a single blanket?

‘I miss her.’ The voice in his head says. He misses you so much that it feels like a knife is lodged in his throat. But it's nothing compared to the way he’s felt when you left him behind that day. Better than being terrified to death wondering if he’d get a call bringing him news he'd never in his life want to hear.

Taehyung drops his head down on the table, pulling up the hood of his jacket as he goes down. Focusing on the pain that blossomed on his forehead, he forces all thoughts of you out of his head.

Just as he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, the loud noise and vibration of something being slammed down on the table reaches him. His head jerks up startled, coming face to face with the very person he’s been avoiding for a whole week. His lips part, nothing but silence falling out of it. You look vexed at his expression.

"A 100 calls!" you say, pointing at the phone you'd thrown onto the table with your call log on. "A 100 calls and countless texts. All to you. I even emailed you dammit! What the hell are you doing, huh? Ignoring me like that! Do you even remember you've got a girlfriend?" your voice takes on an edge, volume increasing the slightest than your normal.

He can't do anything but stare at your red face. He’s washed over with worry with how little you've dressed for a rainy evening. He holds himself back from swiping your wet lips in for a breathless kiss.

"Answer me!" you yell, slamming your hand down on the table. It makes him flinch in his seat. And the women at the counter.

"I don't want to." he says, a slight tremor in his voice. He avoids looking you in the eye, instead setting his gaze on the device on the table. He’s afraid anything he does will anger you further. And it does.

" 'Don't want to'?" You scoff dangerously. "What else do you not want!? Your girlfriend spending time doing something she likes!?" you grab the collar of his shirt, pulling him up from the chair and in front of the table.

Taehyung’s jaw ticks at your words and actions. He pushes your hand away and straightens the shirt. Dominating him like that in front of another person jabs at his ego as a man.

"That is not something I'm ready to talk about yet!" He shouts. Memories from the past swarm him, choking him so hard that it feels like he’s combusting from the inside.

"I'm your girlfriend, asshole! I would've listened to you if you had told me that at the time instead of yelling at me!"

"Stop repeating that you're my girlfriend!"

"Why!? Do relationships scare you now too!?"

"Because I'm not sure I want this anymore." he whispers, head falling low in resignation. It's only half-true. He does want it. More than anything else. But he’s too scared.

Fear, he learns, is the most dangerous emotion.

"You are breaking up with me?" you ask, voice too composed than earlier. Taehyung keeps looking down at his shoes. Big mistake.

You lift up the cup of hot tea from his table and smash it on the wall at your side. You throw it with so much force that the shards fly back at you, slashing you on the cheek. The hot liquid splatters all over your hand, turning it an angry red. You don't flinch. You stare at him, eyes void of anything he's ever seen in them. Like he has no more access to you.

You rove your eyes over him one more time and then turn away with your phone. You slam a fifty-dollar bill in front of Mrs. Choi at the counter and leave without looking at Taehyung again.

Taehyung looks around the cafe at the wreck the two of you have caused. He bends down to pick up the shards of glass through the tearful blur. He stays back, helping the part-timer clean up before he leaves. Mrs. Choi even comes around to take him into her arms, bracketing him into her motherly embrace.

Crying all through the walk back to his house, he asks himself the same question over and over again.

‘What the hell have I done?’

***

Yoongi can clearly see the smoke come out through the gaps of your bedroom door. His jaw ticking in anger, he pushes it open and immediately meets with the sight of his best friend.

You are leaning against her headboard, a cigarette clutched between the index and middle fingers of your healing hand. You leave out a puff of smoke and when he enters, you hurriedly push the remaining against the ashtray. You put it away in your drawer with wide eyes and fumbling hands.

"I saw that, ___. You're smoking again?" He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Sorry I just... I didn't know you were coming over."

"So you were planning on keeping this away from me? You promised me you'd stop." He says, seating himself down beside you.

"You know why I do it." You sigh and pull the comforter over the lower half of your body, pulling your legs towards your chest. Clutching your face in your hands, you put it on your knees.

The sight of you, curled up against the headboard has Yoongi's heart wrenching in sadness. It had been a week since the breakup and you were still as broken as the day at the diner.

Moving closer, he pulls you to his side. Almost instantaneously, you lay your head on his shoulder and curl up against him.

"Why did you come over without telling me? You always call me before."

"Jimin called me. He was scared of how little he saw you around the house. And any time he did see you, he said you were high. Barely aware of what was happening."

"I should've worried him a lot. Where is he?" a troubled look crosses your features.

"Apparently it's been affecting him too much. So, Hobi took him out for some breakfast."

You hum. You are glad Hoseok is being a good boyfriend to your other best friend.

"You need to learn how to control your ang-"

"I can't Yoongi." You say, lifting up your hand. It trembled in frustration.

"I almost smashed a cup against his skull. Had I not mentally reminded myself of who was in front of me, I would've put him in the Emergency room." you recollect, wiping the tears.

"We can always seek help, ___." He rubs up and down your arms to soothe your emotions.

"Is that okay?" He asks and you nod against his shoulder blade. The two of you bask in the silence afterward. Embracing the calmness that you knew wouldn't last once the voices in your head get too loud.

"Should've known it was too good to be true." You sniffle, "He was way too perfect from the beginning."

#bts #btsboys #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #taehyung fanfic #taehyung angst #books & libraries #angst #wattpad #bts wattpad #wattpad writer #fanfiction #fanfic writer #taehyung x reader

10 notes · View notes

thesmokingguns · 4 years ago

Text

Wendy and the Lost Boys Chapter 8

It was the week of Valentines Day and it marked two months since Nikki had seen Sasha. She hadn’t come to any of their shows or slept at the apartment. He hadn’t seen her at any of her favorite spots that he had been casually dropping by. There was no reason why he should go looking for her; if he saw her he didn’t know what he would even say to her. He couldn’t just say he was sorry because they had decided they were exclusive. Even though he had technically done nothing wrong he was feeling bad for his actions.

They had a few shows on the 12, 13 and 14th at the Whisky coming up and Nikki wanted to call and invite her to one. He could use a stupid excuse like the band wanted to see her or that they had a new song to play. If he could just lure her back out maybe when he saw her things wouldn’t be awkward or weird. He was standing in front of the payphone willing himself to make the call. He dialed her sorority house and when he got the busy signal cursed. What did he expect trying to call a house of girls the week of Valentine’s Day?

“Why are you on the payphone?” He turned to see Tommy looking at him, “Is Lita still at the apartment?” The drummer rolled his eyes when Nikki nodded to confirm this, “Get her to leave before band practice. She’s been stuck to your side for two months without leaving. Everyone wants time to just rehearse without her butting in.” For Tommy to say something meant that everyone was getting fed up.

“She’s just trying-“

“I don’t care if she’s trying to suck all our dicks and give us hundred dollar bills after. Get her out of the apartment for a couple hours so we can practice.” Tommy interrupted before moving to jump into his van and take off. Band practice was in an hour so he needed to figure out how to get her out before everyone was there.

The door to her room burst open and she glared seeing Tommy standing there. . Sasha had been avoiding him, only seeing him when he showed up for Sunday dinners at home. So him showing up like this wasn’t something that was completely out of character. She could see him still holding the keys to his van which meant he wanted to go somewhere and she didn’t exactly trust him to keep her away from the self prescribed segregation she had given herself to get over Nikki.

“No and get out.” She said flipping through her magazine, she wasn’t going to go along with whatever stupid plan he had. Tommy was moving closer and she watched him pick up her leather jacket and her purse. She shut her magazine now looking around for something that she could defend herself with. “What are you doing?” She asked as he moved towards her. She screamed, slamming a pillow into his head trying to jump off the bed but slipping and falling half on her face. Tommy took her fall as a great excuse to scoop up the girl and toss her over his shoulder. She tried to point a Ked towards his balls, kicking at him.

“Play nice.” he warned, spinning around the room and then tossing her down. “I want you to come to band practice.” He watched the way that she looked at him, wondering if he was actually being serious. “Nikki is going to get Lita out of the apartment.” He stopped when he saw her eyebrows fold together.

“Is she living with you?” Tommy had said too much and he wanted to back pedal. This was absolutely not what he had wanted to happen. From him not answering she knew what that meant. Her eyes widened slightly, “Are they dating, Tommy? Like is she his girlfriend?” Everything in her wanted him to say no and to laugh it off. She wanted him to say she just hung around the apartment and that Nikki didn’t date but he just looked down trying to take a long time to find and light a cigarette.

“You know how Nikki is-“

“Yeah I do know how he is.” She snapped this at a Tommy and he could see she was upset. This anger had settled on her face with tears threatening to fall out of her eyes, “I want to punch him in the face.” She admitted as she started pacing around the room. “Why am I not good enough for him but she is? He told me a bunch of times he doesn’t date people. I guess it just means that I’m not good enough.” She had stopped and was looking in the mirror at herself.

“Nikki is just an asshole. You know nothing lasts with him. And you always talk about Len at home so I thought you were moving on from whatever you had with Sixx.” She turned to him giving Tommy a look.

“Don’t bring Len into this. That whole situation is complicated and you have a big mouth. And you’re trying to take the pressure off of me being mad at Nikki.” She added pointing a finger at him in warning. Sasha walked over, flopping on the bed next to Tommy. They both laid down looking up at the ceiling. “Do you think there is something wrong with me? Is that why I can’t be in a normal relationship where someone loves me?” She asked. Tommy reached out grabbing her hand.

“Nikki doesn’t love anybody. I don’t even think he really likes himself. I think Lita just walked into his life and he’s waiting for her to decide to walk out because he doesn’t know what else to do. It has nothing to do with who you are. You’re smart and beautiful. But sometimes you forget you’re only 18. You have a minimum of ten years before you should get married. Maybe you should just have fun. Forget Nikki, Forget Len. Just have fun.” She rolled her eyes at him. She was a serious person and that’s what was fun to her.

“I can’t forget Len and I’ve avoided Sixx for two months so I’m doing great there.” She knew avoiding Nikki wouldn’t fix anything but staying away from him meant she didn’t make any mistakes. Like kissing his stupid face or punching it. Both emotions seemed to be appropriate for him.

“Come to band practice.” Tommy asked. “Like forget about Sixx and just come and hang out with everyone. You can get drunk on the couch and throw beer cans at us like when we first started.” He knew she wasn’t going to come and the way she rolled over onto her stomach made him sigh, “Just stop by one day and stop letting Sixx ruin the Strip for you.” He warned, getting off the bed. Sasha shot him a look and he was gone. And all the problems were still there.

It was June 1st when she finally got the courage to finally show up at the house. The only reason she found herself at the house was because she had moved home for the summer and didn’t want to be home. So it was close to one in the morning when she was crawling through the window to a packed apartment, trying to take in everything that was going on.

Her eyes scanned trying to see where everyone was and just trying to get to Tommy’s room where she would lock herself until he tried to get in. She saw Vince being pulled into the bathroom by some random girl, Mick was in the kitchen grabbing a bottle of vodka with his back to her, Tommy was sitting next to someone talking excitedly with a mountain of cocaine in front of him, and Nikki was nowhere to be found. Not having eyes on the bassist left her unsettled. She kept her head down as she slid past people turning the door knob to Tommy’s room and pushing the door open. She said a silent prayer of thanks that the room was empty.

“Bedrooms are off limits.” A voice made her turn and she saw Lita was standing there, hands on her hips. She didn’t seem to recognize who Sasha was and for some reason that made her even angrier. She threw the backpack she had filled onto the bed and just slammed the door turning the lock and tucking a chair under it. She heard the smacking of a hand, “HEY. YOU NEED TO GET OUT.” Sasha lit a cigarette, knowing that her hope of staying out of sight until the morning was out. There was the sound of knocking and the door knob was shaking.

“HEY, open up.” It was Tommy’s voice now and she knew this was her chance to stay hidden. She opened the door a crack grabbing his arm and yanking him inside and slamming herself against the door so no one saw her as she locked it, “Listen babe, I can’t just let you-Sasha!” He couldn’t believe she was in his room.

“I need to stay here because I didn’t figure out my summer apartment so I’m living at home.” She ranted. Tommy just waved her off.

“If you’re here, you need to party. No hiding in this room. We’re all talking about Canada. You need to come with us.” He was already pulling her out of the bedroom back to the party. Sasha knew this was going to happen so she had dressed up a little in a skin tight short dress in white.

“Canada, what the-“ she was cut off as they entered the room again and she saw him. He was laughing leaning against the wall by the window. Nikki looked up when Tommy was rushing back into the living room and his smile faltered seeing Sasha there. She nearly tripped over her own feet as she was pulled into the couch, her eyes snapping away from the intense look the bassist was giving her. The feeling of her stomach doing flips made her feel sick and she wished she had just called Len instead of showing up at the house. It had been half a year and still just a Nikki looking at her made her forget how to breathe. She drank the beer pressed into her hand and tried not to turn and look again the green eyes she could feel staring into her.

Since Tommy had pulled her out of the bedroom Nikki couldn’t stop watching her. She was beautiful in that white dress, standing out among all the black shirts and leather jackets. Even in the chaos he could hear her laughter. Thank God Lita was there keeping him anchored or he’d go over and say something to her that would probably ruin his whole Nikki Sixx persona. She was practically holding a band meeting towards the end me of the night. The guys all huddled up with her heads bent as she explained something.

“Nikki, come here.” Vince called out. He watched the way she looked up at his name, the long eyelashes dancing to keep her gaze off him. He untangled himself from Lita watching the dirty look she shot over to the table. “Sasha figured out how to do your publicity stunt in Canada.” He looked up at her, cocking an eyebrow at her. She looked at Nikki, her heart aching thinking of everything. She tore her eyes away from them standing up and smirking.

“I’ll talk to your manager tomorrow. But I’m going to bed now. Goodnight, kids.” He was jealous of the way she smiled at the other guys ignoring him big he also knew that she still must have felt something if she was leaving from him being so close. When she had slipped into Tommy’s room he heard Vince sigh.

“She is still pissed at you.” Vince pointed out making Nikki glare at him, “Wait until she finds out you’re moving out with Lita when we get back from Canada. She’s going to be thrilled.” He was so thankful for all his bandmates' support and understanding in the situation. They really did such a good job of making everything easier.

“Isn’t your wife pregnant at home?” Nikki asked making the singer glare at him, “Angel isn’t mad at me. Everything happened months ago and we never even had sex so it’s not a big deal.” He had given them too much information.

“Wait you didn’t even bone and you’ve both been moping around for six months?” Tommy asked, his mouth partly open. A hand of Nikki’s shoulder stopped the conversation as they all looked up at Lita.

“Who didn’t bone?” The guys all were silent and Nikki knew he had to get them out of them. He stayed silent moving to step outside of the apartment. He needed a second to collect his thoughts. He sat down in the chair that was outside to figure things out. There had never been a time where seeing a girl had absolutely consumed him like it had with seeing Sasha. He didn’t know why the time between them didn’t help. He still wanted to be around her and touch her; how did she get even more attractive in the time they were apart?

“Do you have a cigarette?” The voice brought Nikki out of his thoughts and he noticed the sun was starting to rise. Sasha was outside in her keds, shorts and a tshirt. Nikki realized he must have fallen asleep on the plastic chair. He handed her the pack, watching her light up the cigarette and sigh out a breath. “Tommy said I could come to Canada for your tour but I figured I’d ask you if it was okay first. I don’t want to step on any toes.” He could smell her shampoo and a new perfume. She looked at him and he realized he was supposed to respond.

“I’m sorry.” Her eyebrows furrowed together confused and then realization settled on her features. “I don’t even know what happened. I was thinking about you and then I was home with her and she just hasn’t left.” Nikki always articulated so now that he wasn’t being his cool calm self he was feeling off kilter.

“So I take it as it’s fine if I come on tour. Thanks.” She flicked her cigarette off the balcony and shook Tommy’s van keys at him. “You need to drive me to meet with your manager.” She threw the keys at him and he smirked feeling a little better knowing she would be back around them.

“RUN.” Tommy screamed pulling Sasha down the hallway. They skidded around a corner, the police hot on their trail. They ripped the door open to the stairs and he shoved her into the hallway before taking off in another direction. Sasha ran up the two flights of stairs and down the hallway slamming her fist on the door to Mick's room. When he didn’t answer she moved to Vince’s room.

“OPEN THE DOOR YOU ASSHOLE.” She gave it a kick and saw the door next to his open and Nikki stick his head out. She could hear footsteps and dove inside, shutting the door behind her and taking a deep breath. There was the sound of running and she bit her lip to keep in the laughter.

“What did you do?” He asked watching how she threw herself into the bed. She was obviously shitfaced or fucked up on something. Which seemed to be how things were going for the last week. Since she had showed up at the apartment she had been making moves for them and staying constantly fucked up. It had gotten so bad Nikki had asked Tommy what happened but no one knew.

“Tommy and I did mescaline.” She giggled at this and Nikki tried not to smile at how happy she seemed to reveal this. “And we were walking around and this dude came towards us and he was getting big and small like an accordion.” She started giggling again, kicking off her shoes. “So I told Tommy and he threw a plate at the guy. And we started throwing stuff at all these people chasing us around the halls.” She was wiggling out of her shorts and he had no idea what the fuck she was doing. “But we ran out of room service and the police came. So we had to run.” That’s how she had ended up here. She pulled off her shirt and he groaned seeing she was now just in her white underwear. “I’m tired from all that rubbing.” She said with a yawn, “Cmon, I’m probably going to have to bail Tommy out of jail in a few hours and I want to sleep.” She was laying in his bed, telling him to come in there with her but Nikki gave her the space and just let her fall into her sleep. As much as he wanted everything to be okay with her he knew she was going through something and trying to hide with the band. He just needed to find out what was going on with her.

The sun was hitting her back, warm and comforting, dragging her out of the deep sleep that she had fallen into. Sasha felt like she had been running around all night and that she had been hit with a sledgehammer. She groaned burying herself deeper in the pillow that smelled oddly like- She sat straight up the covers falling off her as she looked around the room. It was at least empty so there would be no awkward moment where she would have to talk to Nikki. The phone rang and since she was afraid that it would be Tommy calling from jail she reached out to answer it.

“Is this Nikki’s room?” a voice on the other line asked when she said hello. Sasha yawned, looking around and confirming that it was. She needed to get dressed and shower before going and finding everyone, “Why are you in my boyfriend's room?” she opened her mouth pulling the receiver away from her ear. Of course Lita was calling at 9am to check in Nikki when he was on tour. That was a sign of how much she trusted the bassist but also it was fair seeing who he was.

“Oh no, no no no. I did not sleep with Nikki. I did a bunch of drugs with Tommy, ran from the cops and ended up in his room to hide from them. I wouldnt have sex with Nikki well he is dating you.” She wanted to establish this understanding so maybe they could be friends. She got along fine with Vince’s wife and Beth knew she wasn’t a threat. Sasha watched as the door to the room opened and the woman's boyfriend walked in holding a tray with coffee and breakfast on it. He stopped seeing her sitting on the edge of the bed topless on the phone. She held out her hand signaling the coffee not seeing to notice that her tits were out. Nikki smirked giving her the cup of coffee watching the way she gave him a big smile.

“Are you on the phone with your boyfriend? Does he know that you spent the night in my bed?” he was trying to tease her thinking that it would be funny to get her in trouble but she just turned white. A pillow went flying towards him and all he did was smile. He didn’t care who got in trouble because of what he was saying. She also realized he didn’t know it was Lita on the phone and not Len.

“What the fuck did he just say?” the woman on the other line asked now getting mad about everything. There was no getting her to like Sasha now. Any idea that they could be friends and things could be nice when she hung out with the band was flying out the window because of SIxx’s big stupid mouth., “BUT HIM ON THE FUCKING PHONE YOU BITCH.” Sasha held out the phone giving Nikki a look like he was an absolute idiot. Now he had gotten them both in trouble from him being a moron

“It’s your girlfriend, Sixx. And now she knows I spent the night naked in your bed.” she said it loud enough that the woman would hear. That smile that she had blossoming across her face thinking that she was doing something to get him in trouble. Instead of taking the phone and talking to her Nikki just hung it up. Watching how her face fell realizIng that he wasn’t going to get into trouble like she had wanted for him.

“Don’t answer the hotel room phone, Angel. That’s just asking for trouble.” he threw her a shirt from the chair watching the way she smirked as she pulled it on, taking a sip of the hot coffee. The phone rang and she looked at it. “Tommy is sleeping off a very bad hangover in the room so there is no reason to answer that phone.” he watched her drink down her coffee, not talking to him for a second.

“Thanks for letting me crash here last night. Sorry that I answered the phone.” Nikki shrugged his shoulders. He wasn’t going to let her get arrested, “Can we talk about something and you can’t make it weird?” she asked after a few minutes of them eating in silence. He looked up at her wondering what would be weird of her to ask.

“I’m not going to get weird from a question, angel.” as he said this his heart started to race and he had to lick his lips as he felt like his mouth was starting to go dry from the nerves building in his stomach. Sasha sat on the bed, her hands wrapped around the ceramic cup wearing one of the Motley Crue shirts he had taken. He always imagined a life like this, a girl in his bed wearing his band stuff but seeing that it was Sasha there was something different. It was like at this moment he was doing exactly what he wanted to be doing with exactly who he wanted to be with. All the ideas he had of letting her sow her wild oats were gone and NIkki wanted to be selfish and just have her. She could grow up with him and he’d show her everything that she would need or want to experience.

“It’s about Len.” she gulped and her eyes flashed down at what was probably lukewarm coffee back up to look at him, “And I think it’s about you too.” she made eye contact again with him. Sasha needed to ask him about why he didn’t want her and the awkwardness from the conversation was already weighing heavy, “Is there something about me that makes it so that guys don’t want me?” his eyebrows furrowed in. “I mean, Len and I got into this big fight because-” she paused as a pink blush warmed her cheeks and her hand went to touch her neck. He hadn’t seen her so uncomfortable before and didn’t like how uncomfortable she was getting talking about this. There was a knock on the door making them both look up.

“Nikki, it’s me. We need to have a band meeting now. I have everyone with me.” Sasha audibly groaned hearing the manager's voice. Of course there would be a full band meeting when she was just starting to talk to him again.She was on the bed in just his shirt too, awesome, she thought as she watch Nikki open up the door and all the band coming in. Mick saw her first and just shook his head at her, Tommy gave her a confused look but sat next to her on the bed taking her half a cup of coffee, and when Vince came in he started clapping.

“FINALLY!” he cheered smacking Nikki on the back like he was proud of him. He moved over trying to ruffle her hair but getting smacked in the arm before he could touch her.

“Sit down, Vince.” She muttered, not even bothering to correct them. Sasha got up ready to leave but Tommy pulled her down to sit with them just giving her a slight shake of the head as they all turned to look at the band manager.

“Tonight will be the last show of the tour. We will fly back to LA in the morning. I bought tickets for all the band members.” He gave a pointed look to Sasha to let her know she would be on her own for airfare, “We’ve lost money so far and pretty much all the bullshit you’ve guys have done has cost us more money than we have made. So that’s that.” She looked over to where Nikki was, a shattered look on his face as he was trying to process what this guy was saying to them. All the guys had this look of dejection on their face at this. “But when you get back to LA Elektra wants you to start working on your next record.” They all sort of peaked up at this information.

Everyone sat around talking for a little while about everything before one by one they all left Nikki’s room. Sasha was still on his bed, her head resting on her knees as she looked over at the bassist. He had switched coffee out for a bottle of Jack Daniel’s by now. He looked over at her, the way her blonde hair was shining in the sunlight and how the dark t shirt clashed with the white linen of the bed. They stared at each other for a second before he was moving over to her, his hand finding its way into the silken maze of her hair and he was tugging her to him. Sasha could feel her heart beating as he inched their heads together, his forehead resting against hers.

“I just want to feel better about everything.” He muttered. She was wrapping herself around him, easing him out of his misery with soft touches on his face, her hand on the skin below his shirt. Sasha laid him in the bed beside her, wrapping him up in her body and pressing kisses on his face. Her hands in his hair as she held his head to her chest and comforted him.

“It’s okay, Sixx. You have a whole new album to write about me.” She teased softly, feeling his smile. Nikki’s hands were creeping up the back of her shirt and she remembered what it felt like to be touched and feel on fire. He could feel the way she shifted closer to him and smirked.

“It would be easy to write an album about you, angel.” Shifting her and watching the way she sighed out her hands in his hair, “I’ve missed this.” He admitted, watching the way she was smiling in his arms. It was easy when they weren’t mad at each other.

“It’s nice to feel tired and want to sleep.” She joked, but she was yawning and he knew she was going to fall asleep. Nikki adjusted her in his arms watching the soft smile she had. It was going to be hard to go back to LA and regular life; If she was around he couldn’t just have his life with Lita. Plus Sasha had Len, even if she was being strange about the whole thing. There were so many questions without any answers.

#nikki sixx imagine #nikki sixx fanfiction #nikk Sixx fan fic

18 notes · View notes

gyllenhaalstories · 4 years ago

Photo

SOUTHPAW, PART 1: HEADCANONS.

notes: dear anon: thank you for making me appreciate jake the rapper! also i know nothing about rap, so i’m sorry if this is pure trash! i never finished watching southpaw because it was too dark for me, but i took some very loose inspiration from it. warnings: mentions of dark past, mentions of sexual content... this got really long (2k words). gifs credits: alphalewolf. extras: if you want more informations about rapper!jake, please scroll through my blog. i have edited some older posts with the tag: topic: rapper!jake, so check it out if you’re interested. i have taken some ideas and put them in this list. (at the end of the list i provided some goodies!)

PART TWO WILL BE UPLOADED SOON, KEEP AN EYE OUT FOR IT!

attention, attention! please note i know absolutely nothing about rap. i very rarely enjoy listening to rap music, it’s simply not for me. this might be inaccurate and off compared to the actual world of hip hop and other similar genres. i apologize for my lack of knowledge! this is an au in which jake is not an actor or a producer or anything of the sort. his fame, he built it with his music. you must keep that in mind while reading these headcanons or else it will get confusing. also, i’ve taken some loose inspiration from jake’s actual work, but that’s just for the sake of backstory. are you ready to dive in this twisted fantasy?

Jake Gyllenhaal. Known as Hall. He exploded the charts after being picked up by one of the biggest record companies for his first album: Hall of Fame. He was a rookie, yet he was older than most of the rappers you can think of today. He worked his way up undercover. He started participating in poetry and slam nights at local cafés. He became a songwriter, through connections. He sold some songs that are absolute classics today, but he does not care. He did not feel like they fit him anyway.

Growing up, Jake had it rough. There was a lot of fighting at home. His older sister was the perfect angel and him? The absolute disaster child. It was not like he ran after danger and trouble, he seemed to always be at the wrong place in the wrong time, he hung out with the wrong crowd. He managed to avoid juvie on some miracle. What was the miracle, you might ask? He was caught robbing some local bank with his “friends” and the cops, at first, did not believe he was innocent. While his friends were screaming and threatening the innocent clients of the bank, Jake actually tried to help them out of the building safely. The cops arrived at the same moment and thought he was keeping the strangers hostage. He was arrested on the spot. The other guys played the victims, blamed it all on Jake but it was only when Jake wrote the whole story, from the beginning where his friends manipulated him and made of him their puppet to when he felt this adrenaline rush telling him he needed to save the strangers that night. His writing was too sincere, too raw to be a web of lies. The police released him, but they kept an eye on him.

His escape were writing and music. He impressed all of his teachers at school. Talented, gifted, magical. That was how they described Jake at every parent and teacher meeting. Writing dumb sentences that made very little sense and playing with a guitar after school, that did not make his parents very proud compared to his sister who was on top of all of her classes and working hard for a future of wealth and success.

Music was his entire life. He would come home from school and blast music until he was called out for dinner. Led Zeppelin, Aerosmith, Black Sabbath, Heart, Pink Floyd, Metallica, name it. He liked it loud. He liked it weird. He liked it with a deeper message, with double meaning.

He worked all types of jobs, some legal and some not so much. He was saving money for college. He applied. He got in. He started his classes. He had big dreams, too, he had ambitions. Maybe he could his talent to good use? He wanted to study philosophy, literature, music, creative writing... Anything that required thought and depth. He made friends, there. He befriended the edgy punk guy, he had tattoos everywhere, he listened to the same bands, he was quiet but his essays spoke volumes.

Jake was disappointed, his illusions were broken. He hated the format of his classes, the feeling like his opinion and his inspiration did not matter, it was always about meeting some stupid requirements to please a rich professor who did not care about passion, about talent, about originality. Jake dropped out, soon followed by his friend. His friend was hired at a tattoo parlor and Jake hung out there all the time. He would stay up until 5 am, 6, 7, all night and all day long. He loved the clients there. He would write and read his writing out loud to the clients when they were tortured by the needle shooting the ink in their skin. Talented and gifted, they all the same thing.

He started to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

He wrote, not just stories and opinion pieces. He started writing songs, melody and lyrics. He started playing them, he started writing his own poetry too. He was introduced to freestyle battles. And as he fought against other talented thinkers, he noticed he spoke with a tempo, with a rhythm. He was rapping and he did not even realize it.

His career sky rocketed from the moment a music producer attended one of the rap battles. He was famous, he got quite the thick wallet and the connections. Jake was introduced to legends of hip hop. They all influenced him as his career grew to become something overwhelming and terrifying, yet thrilling and addictive.

Hall had a style of his own, though. It was romantic, yet absolutely disgusting and dark. It was aggressive, yet vulnerable and philosophical. He spoke of his trauma, of his hatred, of his envy, of his fears... He used his songs as an escape. He was becoming his own escape.

And his own prison. His family did not care about him, he was a shame, even. Aside from his old college friend, he never built strong friendships. They were all after him for fame and cash. He slept around, guys and gals, threesomes, foursomes... He did not care, anything for some genuine connection, even if it lasted for a very lazy and messy fifteen minutes in the trashy bathroom of a concert hall. Rumour had it he was a great lover, but he was so bad at loving.

Now it gets interesting...

Hall rapped alongsides Eminem, Drake, Kendrick Lamar, Travis Scott... The biggest pop stars were fighting just to get him to rap a line in their songs. Rihanna wishes he was the one singing Love the way you lie, does that give you an idea? He appeared on duets. He wrote more solo albums, sold them instantly. He never left the top of the billboard in weeks, months, if not years. It never really got to his head. He was still that sensitive boy writing about knights and princesses in his bedroom with walls covered by band posters. Fans did not care about this side of him, they loved him for his lyrics about snorting coke, drinking his pain away and fucking whoever wore the tiniest skirt around.

His latest album, Southpaw, was an even bigger hit. Pure filth. Pure gold. Imagine 13 tracks, Cardi’s and Megan’s WAP but reversed. He does not rap about how good he fucks people. He raps about how good they feel. That’s some real depth here, no pun intended.

You met him at one of his concerts. Your friend won VIP passes, so you were standing in the front and got to take a picture with him. You did not understand the hype around taking a photo with this guy, he just stood there and looked absolutely emotionless.

You hated rap, or perhaps you loved it. You did not care much for Jake, that was for sure. You thought he was just another lame rapper who thought he was the real deal because his lyrics were so explicit, even the clean versions made angels cry. The truth was, you did not know much a bout him. You found him too commercial, like he was scared of becoming irrelevant.

You saw right through him already.

But him? He already cared too much about you. You caught his attention as he rapped his songs. He could not take his eyes off you. You weighted heavy on his mind, caused him to stutter and forget lyricvs. Fans laughed, they said he was probably too drunk or too high too focus. Drunk in love, that’s what it was.

There was something about you. Maybe it was the Black Sabbath shirt you wore. Maybe it was the unimpressed look on your face. Maybe it was your plump lips he wanted to kiss. Maybe it was the sight of you laughing with your friend that made his heart skip a beat. Maybe it was the fact you treated him like a normal person even if you had not spoken to him first.

So, you met backstage.

Your friend was beaming from ear to ear, showering Jake in compliments.

“Did you enjoy the show?” Jake asked you.

“For someone who shows no emotion, sound dead inside and look like they wish they were doing anything but making dozens of thousands of dollars by singing a couple of semi mediocre tracks, yeah, it was not that horrible.”

He was up for a challenge.

You two exchanged insults like it was a boxing match. Each round was getting more and more intense. It was no longer insults, it was straight up flirting. You noticed when your bodies were so close you could smell the scent of watermelon chewing gum that escaped from his warm breath. You could hear the way his raced even faster than yours.

You were snapped out of this fantasy by his bodyguard, indicating other fans waited for him.

He remembered the name your friend called out, saying he needed to bring you home before something bad happened.

It was the most beautiful name he had ever heard.

He hung out around that concert hall for the next couple of days. At the bar nearby, at Starbucks, at McDonald’s, anything for the sake of seeing your face again.

And he did.

You were walking out of the record store with a vinyl of Heart squeezed under your arm. You looked so happy. You had paint stains all over your clothes. You were erasing the memories of a terrible relationship by decorating your tiny apartment, and you needed to set the right ambiance. You needed guidance, you found it in the strong minds of the ladies behind Heart, in Joan Jett, in Stevie Nicks. You found your silver lining in music.

Jake ran behind you, he pretended he was out jogging and he mysteriously bumped into you. He grabbed your vinyl before it could fall on the ground.

“Nice pick.”

“We finally agree on something.”

Another round of flirty insults...

... That ended in the two of you fucking like animals on the floor of your apartment.

And fucking on the couch the next day.

On the kitchen counter the morning after.

And finally, on the bed. That was a really special one. Jake was the first person to be on your bed since the departure of your ex. He could feel that you were not in the mood for a rough battle for dominance.

That night, he made love to you.

For, quite possibly, the first time in his life, he expressed his love directly to somebody. “Princess, baby girl, beautiful, gorgeous, amazing”, he showered you in compliments, and praises. The slow movement of his hips, the intense passion in his eyes and love in his heart spoke louder than the music you were playing in the background to set the mood.

You were not just another trophee to hang on the wall. You were special.

He was special too.

He bought you every record that reminded him of you. He bought you collector items of your favourite bands. From the silliest decoration to a new car to replace your crappy one, passing by tickets to exclusive and sold-out shows, Jake had never felt more famous in his life than when he was with you.

His fans noticed the change in his songs, in his lyrics. They were just as explicit, just as rotten and just as corrupted. However, they came from a place of light and love, not of darkness and rage.

He sang about how good your felt when you climaxed around him. How drenched he was whenever he made you squirt. How he loved to taste himnself on your lips. How he was full of love and of lust for you. How he would quit everything if it meant he would live a normal life, for once, and with you.

You inspired so many songs that became massive world-wide hits.

You travelled the world with him on tour. You helped him design his new merch and you wore his t-shirts with pride. You attended concerts in your freetime. You loved staying up all night, painting and drawing while he was writing about this mirage of a goddess, blessing his existence with a smile and a sparkle in her eyes.

He was addicted to you.

He was crazy for you.

And he went crazy on you.

for research purposes and not because i wasted my time hearing eminem talk about stuff i don’t understand so i could stare at jake’s thighs

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mP_cKP4OjsA

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=whV5oQDvVWE

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UGqC9URTJIQ

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=5imXD1LPnwo

and finally, for good measure :

@gyll-yee-haw ily

#jake gyllenhaal #jake gyllenhaal smut #jake gyllenhaal imagine #jake gyllenhaal x reader #topic: rapper!jake #series: southpaw

141 notes · View notes

miastideclock · 4 years ago

Text

BTS Rap Line Drabble, “Ddaeng.”

could u do a drabble with namjoon, yoongi and hoseok and something around DDAENG?? have your fun with it!! Idc who ends up with who if there even is any romance or anything- get ur creative juices flowing :3 -Silver Anon

Of course I can! I love both the song and the boys, so I’m gonna have a lot of fun with this one :))

I highly recommend listening to THIS as you read x

Word Count: 2.68k Warnings: Violence, Swearing, Threats, Sexual Suggestions

You checked behind you once. Then twice. Even a third time to make sure you weren’t being followed. After you were certain there were no one with you down the abandoned alleyway, you jumped the fence. Climbing a 13-foot wall wasn’t easy, but it sure was easier now than the first time you did it- three years ago. The wall was pretty useful in keeping out people who didn’t belong there, like cops or whistleblowers, as they never bother to actually jump the wall.

You grunted as you hit the pavement and rolled to cushion the jump. You then got to your feet and jogged the last three minutes, the chants and the cheers growing louder and louder as you did so.

Underground boxing had been an interest of yours for years, so when you found the arena by accident one night, you knew you were in the right place. However, it took a few months before you actually began fighting yourself, but when you did? Wow. You had caught everyone off guard when you seemingly showed up out of nothing and became close to undefeated.

“Look what decided to show up!” A voice snarled from behind you once you had gotten into the crowd. You knew instantly who it was, and spun on your heel to face them.

“Namjoon! Good to see you- so sorry I couldn’t attend your funeral last year.” You smiled sarcastically as you looked up at the man in front of you. He was taller than you by quite a bit, but you didn’t let that intimidate you.

Namjoon chuckled at you reply, but decided to not spit back a comment of the same nature, rather he asked you why you were there. “You planning on fighting today or are you just here for my halftime?” Namjoon wasn’t a fighter like you, but he was more often than not one of the announcers of the fights, and often him and his crew had rap-battles and things alike when there were fewer fighters.

“I think I was set up at round six, maybe. I would never come here just to watch you and your friends make a fool of yourselves.” You smirked back.

You and Namjoon had a complicated relationship. You would snarl back and forth like arch enemies, but at the end of the night you would both be undressing each other with your eyes, the tension being insane.

“Oh please, everytime we perform your heart skips a beat, and your breath hitches. I can tell by your eyes, princess.” Namjoon taunted in a tone so low it wasn’t far from a growl. As he spoke he slowly got closer and closer to you, bending a little so he had you at eye-level. You found your lips parting ever so slightly as you licked the inner corner of your lips, your eyes never breaking eye-contact with his. You tried to look unimpressed, but what he was saying was the truth.

“Keep dreaming. I am here for one reason and one reason only. I’m going to do everything to win the fights, so I can leave here with the money-price. Me being here solely for you and your little performance is purely wishful thinking on your end, princess.” You belittled him as you spoke, ending it with a call-back to his nickname for you. You then flipped around, making sure your two dutch-braids would slap him across his chest, and then you were on your way.

You made it over to the announcer of the night and gave him your form.

NAME: your/fighter/name WEIGHT CLASS: xx HEIGHT: xx ROUND: Six With this, you take all responsibility of any damages that may happen to your person. By signing this you have no legal right to sue SEOUL UNDERGROUND BOXING COMMUNITY. SIGN: Signature.

It was a form every fighter had to sign to fight on the grounds of SUBC.

The announcer skimmed the form and gave you a nod then letting you go to the area behind him, leading into a small shed where you changed and put your things while fighting. You dumped your things onto the bench inside and tore off your hoodie, revealing your sports-bra. You found wearing loose shirts only made it hard for you to move as freely as you wished, so you more often than not opted for a sports-bra and basketball shorts or a loose-fitting pair of sweatpants.

The bell soon dinged as a sign that the current fight was over. As that had been round five, you were next up. You continued to wrap your hands as you made your way out of the small shed and over to the middle of the arena.

The stadium was positioned in an unfinished and abandoned tunnel on the outside of the city, and it would change locations every few months or so, to make sure the wrong people wouldn’t find it. But due to the location, the chanting and cheering became super loud as it echoed into the tunnel.

“..AND ON OUR RIGHT WE HAVE NINE TIME WINNER AND DEFENDING CHAMPION - Y/F/N !” The announcer screamed into the megaphone, you stepping out from the shadows as he did so. You walked over to the middle of the ring and shook your opponent’s hand. You would usually take that opportunity to size your opponent and try to figure out what tactics to use- but instead you gave him a smile.

“Hoseok! Long time no see!” You greeted him with a genuine smile. He was your favorite person to fight, as it didn’t automatically mean you would win. You would have to work for it, and those were the best fights.

“Y/n- didn’t think I would see you here today. Heard a rumor you were taking a break?” He commented as he too smiled all while jumping lightly from foot to foot to warm up.

“Fake news, mate. A girl’s gotta pay rent.” You joked and winked to him, making him laugh. You then stepped back to your starting points, waiting for the bell to ring.

You knew you had about a minute or so before the bell would go off, so you started doing what you did before every fight. You started slapping and hitting your chest, shoulders and thighs raw to hype yourself up. You were completely red where you had hit, but that just fueled the adrenaline.

The announcer soon started the countdown.

“THREE!” He screamed. You took a deep breath and locked eyes with Hoseok.

“TWO!” You breathed out, completely emptying your lungs of any oxygen whatsoever, to the point where it hurt.

“ONE!” You and Hoseok gave each other a nod, simultaneously, as to tell each other to not take the fight personally. The two of you had grown to become quite good friends, so none of the bruises would be because of who they were- it would simply be for the price.

The bell went off.

The crowd instantly went crazy as you and Hoseok started circling each other, both of you waiting for your opponent to charge. After about ten seconds, Hoseok finally sprinted at you, placing his shoulder into your stomach and lifting you up, then slamming you against the ground- all before you could even process what had happened.

The scary part about underground fighting is that there are no rules. No specific kind of fighting. You do whatever you need to do to keep your opponent on the ground for more than ten seconds, or until they tap out. Whether that is kicking them in the head or biting their calf, the judge won’t care.

Because of this, you took the opportunity to grab Hoseok’s leg while you were still on the floor, and wrap yourself around it, using your legs to hoist yourself up, and then use your whole body weight to send him to the floor, resulting in you straddling him and punching him in the face. The crowd went nuts.

You got in two solid punches before Hoseok came to and threw you off of him, you using his force to roll as far away as you could before getting up in a position where you kneel on one leg, both of your hands touching the ground.

He was in a squatting position about two meters away from you, waiting for you to make the next move. You breathed out and leaped at him, grabbing his shoulder as you rolled over him, sending you both flying.

This went on for a while, and after about four minutes, you felt like you finally had the upper hand. You were now sat on the ground, having his neck between your thighs, squeezing so he couldn’t breathe, waiting for him to tap out.

He finally did and the bell rung, making you let go as soon as you could, and then help him to his feet. “You did great.” You complimented him as he rubbed the side of his neck, it being sore from your finishing move. He then smiled and gave you a nod in return, it being his way of saying the same.

The judge was soon by your side, standing in between you and Hoseok, holding both of your hands but only raising yours to show you off as the champion of the round.

While you breathed heavily and had your hand raised by the judge, you took in the cheers and chants calling your name in awe. You scanned the crowd and soon made eye-contact with Namjoon, causing a smirk to play on your lips. He stood there clapping as if it was against his own will. You then playfully gave him a wink before looking away, this resulting in Namjoon chuckling slightly as he too looked away, licking the inside of his bottom lip as he did so.

You were soon allowed to go back to the small shed and grab the towel you had brought as well as a crisp bottle of water. After doing so, you walked into the crowd to find Hoseok, wanting to have a proper chat with him. But while you were looking for him, the announcer soon caught your attention.

“While we wait for the competitors of round seven, give it up for RM, AUGUST D AND J-HOOOPE!” He hyped up, dragging out the last name as he walked off ‘stage’, it just being the ring you had just fought in. In reality it was just a slightly raised part of the ground, about two feet or so above where everyone else was standing.

You found yourself a pole to lean up against as you calmed down your still heavy breathing.

The bell rang once as the music started, Namjoon being the first out, rapping in his usual style. He gracefully rapped the intro, something you found a bit annoying as you didn’t want to be attracted to his smooth flow. You recognized the song as Ddaeng, as they had performed it before at a different setting.

After that Hoseok rapped his verse, you cheering with the crowd as you hyped him up. Dancing along with the rhythm. It was soon time for the chorus again, this time Yoongi and Hoseok joining forces.

You had met this Yoongi fella once before, it being briefly. It was at your last fight about a month ago, you had stopped Hoseok in by-passing to tell him he had improved greatly. Yoongi was with him, you barely catching his name before they had to leave.

After that you had been to a rap-battle in a different city, and in the center you had seen him under the name August D. He hadn’t seen you, but you had paid very close attention to him as you vibed with his flow.

Before you knew it, the second chorus was over, and the third verse was brought down a bit, Namjoon’s turn. He found your gaze and locked eyes with you, his raspy voice growling as he spit the lyrics to his part. He beckoned you over using his finger, you doing so, wondering what he had planned.

As you reached the stage with you arms crossed across your chest, he slowly bent down to kneel on one leg in-front of you, however you still had to look up to meet his eyes. His verse carried on as he reached out his hand, hooking his pointer finger under your chin, his thumb resting in you bottom lip. His face came closer and closer, you breath hitching ever so slightly, and you prayed that he didn’t notice. As his lips inched closer to your own, it was as if you couldn’t hear the cheering from the crowd anymore, as if there was no one else but you and Namjoon. But all that broke away as soon as his verse was over and he pulled away from you, getting to his feet and joining his friends back in the center of the ‘stage’.

You felt yourself releasing a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, quickly looking around you to see who was watching you, but most everyone’s attention had returned to Hoseok and Namjoon getting through the last chorus together.

The music cut out and the crowd went crazy. The three men stood on stage heaving for air, especially Hoseok as he never got the chance to catch his breath after the fight.

Namjoon yet again found your eyes and winked, calling back to what you had done after the fight.

The announcer then ushered them off stage as the next fight was about to start. The three guys then jumped off the short ‘stage’ and down to you. You quickly gave Hoseok a sweaty hug, telling him how great he had been. After that you greeted Yoongi, letting him know that you liked his performance in the city over. Last was Namjoon.

“Hoseok! You were amazing! I could never do that after a fight what the hell! And Yoongi, hi! Lovely to see you again. I actually saw you in a rap-battle over in Busan, you were insane.” You hugged Yoongi as well, apologizing for being so sweaty still.

“I knew that was you! I thought I saw you but you left before I could confirm my suspicions. Next time you’re over there hit me up and let’s hang!” Yoongi spoke in a cheery tone, a large contrast from his persona on stage. You nodded and quickly wrote your number down on his arm for him to contact you later.

You then turned to Namjoon who was standing there with a sly smirk on his face. You took a step closer so you were touching him. “So you think you’re slick, huh?” You commented, resulting in him nodding, the smirk never leaving his face. “Well, two can play that game.” You mumbled mostly to yourself, but you were stood so close to Namjoon that he definitely heard you. He raised an eyebrow as to question you, but before he could get out a word, you grabbed the waist-fabric of his hoodie and pulled him closer to you, getting on your toes as you closed the gap between you two, placing your right hand on the back of his head as your lips connected.

You heard both Hoseok and Yoongi riot behind you, but you didn’t care. Namjoon had kissed you back instantly, and before you knew it you were full on making out. He had become like putty in your hands, almost wanting to make you laugh.

Almost as if he came to, he was about to grab your waist to pull you close, but that was when you took a step back, ending your kiss.

“Anyways, I have to go get ready for my next fight. Bye Princess.” You winked at Namjoon and made your way back to your shed, leaving him high and dry, just like he had done to you.

Once you entered the shed, you fell down onto the bench and kicked the air, not wanting to show him what effect he had on you. You gave it a few minutes before you collected yourself to get ready for your next fight.

Hope you liked it! Feel free to request more x

-Bentley

68 notes · View notes

tomiokai · 5 years ago

Text

More Than Friends || Spencer Reid

Masterlist

{not my gif}

A/N: Half wrote this one and typed the rest, so enjoy my pain and tears, cause my hand cramped after this lmao. THIS FIC IS NOT COMPLETE IT IS A DEAD FIC SO JUST WARNING YOU BEFORE YOU DECIDE TO READ. At the ending I will explain what was supposed to happen.

(Edit Disclaimer) I’m so sorry I thought I put this here but, yes I know this is a Girl In Red song, but I really liked this song and I wanted to do a take on this song because I love the lyrics and the meaning of it. Also I am bi so I know what I’m doing lmao. ;)

Summary: This is a songfic to the song ‘I Wanna Be Your Girlfriend’ pretty self-explanatory. Listen to the song, the fic will make a lot more sense, and it’s a great song. The only thing is, replace ‘Hannah’ in the song to ‘Spencer’. (Unedited)

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAU!Reader

Category: Angst. Songfic.

Warnings: None:

Word Count: 1.9k

“I don’t want to be your friend, I wanna kiss your lip. I want to kiss you until I lose my breath.”

As the elevator closed with Maxine and Spencer in it I felt my heart drop.

I knew from the very start Spencer and Maxine were dating but seeing them together in an elevator sharing their first kiss just hits differently.

Heavy tears streamed down my face as I stood there, body frozen. No matter what I did not a single muscle in my body moved, the only movement was the tears from my eyes sliding down my cheeks and onto the maroon dress shirt I wore staining the soft fabric.

Ever since the first day I joined the BAU I had fallen for Spencer, 13 years ago. I was a little late to the team but that didn’t change a thing about how the team treated me. For years I have wanted to tell Spencer that I loved him, but every time the time was not right. Then Maeve happened and my hopes of telling Spencer I loved him passed away with Maeve. He was never going to love me the way he loved her. After that, I never had the courage to tell him how I really felt. Yet again I was too late, he has Maxine now, and he genuinely seemed happier with her than usual. My mind was never going to let me live down the fact that maybe that Spencer and I could’ve been if I had just talked to him before he met Maxine. What could have been.

“Hey Y/n you okay?” Instantly snapping out of my daze, my hand shot up to my face and wiped the tears away. Putting on the best possible smile I could manage I turned around to meet face to face with Luke.

“Luke! Hey! Yeah, I’m good,” I laughed, brushing it off.

“Y/n even if I wasn’t a profiler I could tell you’re upset and you’ve been crying, hiding it with laughter isn’t helping,” Luke stated walking up to stand beside me.

“It’s nothing really,” I reassured.

“I know you hate talking about your emotions Y/n but if you ever need anyone to talk to, I’m your guy,” Luke said patting my shoulder.

“Don’t worry about me Luke, if I ever needed anything you’re my speed dial,” I laughed for real this time.

“Alright, well I’m heading home. Don’t stay too long,” Luke says before disappearing into the elevator.

For a moment I almost wanted to chase after Luke and tell him everything but he wouldn’t have understood how I felt.

Quickly making my way into the bullpen, I went straight to my desk. Everyone had cleared out by then leaving an empty space for me. I had a phone call to make and I had to do it quickly.

“Are you sure you would like to do this?” Security asked.

“Yes. After I’m in I would like you to leave the perimeter, you can stand guard, but you can’t listen in.” I spoke clearly with authority in my voice.

“Yes ma’am,” Security said, leaving the room. I waited for a few minutes to make sure security was out and away for good.

Making sure no one was behind me I opened the door to the room and slipped in. sitting down across from the women I needed to talk to I sighed and crossed my arms.

“Tell me what it’s like,” I breathed.

“What’s what like?” The women asked.

“Don’t play games,” I snapped.

“I’m not playing any games Agent Y/l/n,” The woman lied.

“I may be no Spencer Reid but it doesn’t take a genius to figure out you’re trying to manipulate the situation to your fitting, Catherine Adam,” I stated, hissing the last part.

“The world needs more women like us,” Cat laughs.

Choosing to ignore the obvious insult I rolled my eyes at her.

“From the moment I walked in here you already knew what I wanted,” I said, slamming my hands onto the steel table that separated us.

“You’re right Y/n. I do know what you want,” Cat says eyes darkening. “Let’s play a game!” She piped up, her whole demeanour changing real fast.

“No games!” I immediately said. “I’m not Spencer, Cat. I’m not so easy to manipulate and plus you don’t have any hostages that will make me play.”

“Oh that’s too bad, the game was going to be fun,” Cat sighed sarcastically.

“Any game from you is NOT fun,” I responded, emphasizing the ‘not’.

“Fine, you got me,” Cat said, playing with her hair.

“Now I’m going to ask you again. What was it like?” I deadpanned.

“What a pity, you’re just like me Y/n. We both want Spencer’s love,” Cat stalled. \

“I am not like you!” I hissed leaning forward.

Cat followed in suit and also hissed, “We are exactly the same.”

Leaning back in my seat, giving up on Cat, I proposed something different. “You’re right Cat, we are the same,” I said glancing at Cat who wore a smug grin. “And that’s why I'm willing to sign papers to move your death sentence to a life sentence and if they don’t approve of that I’ll push your death day back as far as I can.”

“How do I know you’re not lying to me,” Cat asked.

“You can read men Cat and I bet you can read women too, so you tell me,” I shot back.

Cat studied me, my face, my breathing, and my body language. “You’re not lying,” Cat breathed in disbelief.

“So tell me and I’ll sign,” I offered one last time. I was desperate to feel what it was like to be something to Spencer.

Cat stares at me, disbelief written all over her face. A sly smile crawled onto her lips. “What do you want to know about Y/n, how he talks to me? How he touches me?” She asked, biting her lips.

Anyone could tell I visibly stiffened uncomfortably.

“Or how he kisses me feverishly or are you into some rough play, do you want me to tell you about how he throws me against walls, and chokes me roughly while whispering death threats to me?” Cat whispered, poison lacing her words.

She was straight up playing me now.

Slamming my hand onto the table yet again I yelled, “You know what it feels like to be rejected by Spencer Reid, Catherine. You know how I feel!”

“I know how that feels, but you don’t Y/n,” Cat bitterly says leaning back into her chair.

“I might as well know,” I laughed, tears spilling out my eyes, mixed emotions filling my body.

Loud laughter filled the closed air. Looking over at Cat I groaned in frustration for letting my emotions show and letting my vulnerability get the better of me.

“Tsk, Tsk Y/n, you of all people should know men are shit,” Cat says, suddenly dead serious.

“What are you talking about?” I asked calmly, but really I was panicking on the inside.

“Now don’t play dumb with me Y/n. I know all about you. We are EXACTLY the same.” She growls.

Standing up abruptly I pointed a finger at the Cat and hissed, “Deals off Cat,”. My face felt steaming hot, God there was probably steam coming out of both my ears.

Cat sighed a very heavy sigh and closed her eyes.

“By the way Catherine, we are not the same and we never will be,” I say before slamming the door closed.

First thought that came to mind, ‘well that went as expected.’

6 Months Later:

“Can you believe someone actually signed the papers for Cat Adams life sentence?” Emily asked, throwing down files on Cat Adams.

Spencer immediately perked up, “Wait who signed it?” He asked, but more like shouted.

“We don’t know It’s classified information way beyond Federal level,” Emily answered.

“If Penelope were here she would have already had the files pulled out,” Matt stated.

Guilt dissolved me completely by then. Knowing fully well I was the one who signed them even after I broke off the deal. Something had ignited in me that day, something that just made me sign them. I had absolutely no reason to but I did, I was surprised they even let them pass through.

“Guys I have an announcement to make,” Spencer said standing up and walking over to the font of the room. Everyone’s chair all spun to face the front simultaneously to listen to Spencer.

“I’m not going to stall so… Max and I are engaged, and everyone here is invited to the wedding!” Spencer said with a cheer.

My attention flew to Spencer. Never have I ever thought Spencer would take things so quickly with Maxine.

Everyone instantly stood up from where they sat and ran up to Spencer and engulfed Spencer in a hug and congratulated him while I sat in my seat in complete disbelief.

People swarmed around Spencer, completely blocking my view from him. My vision blurred as I stared at the group huddle. On instinct, I fled my seat and out of the room never looking back, not caring if anyone saw me.

Pulling out my phone I texted Emily and told her I felt sick and needed a day off, as I stormed off towards the garage to leave this place. I didn’t know exactly where I was going but I just drove. In the end, I ended up at home. I spent the rest of my day in bed wondering about Spencer and answering the occasional texts from the team asking me if I was alright. I wasn’t but they didn’t need to know that.

For the few weeks I had avoided Spencer, every time he would try to talk to me, the air would get tense and I would always come up with an excuse to get away before the conversation went too deep. Luke kept an eye on me the whole time, it was as if he knew what was up, but he didn’t say anything.

A/N: THIS IS WHERE I STOPPED WRITING OOPSIES. So I’ll just tell you what was supposed to happen. Y/n was supposed to confront Spencer at his engagement and tell him she loved him, and the verses “I don’t want to be your friend, I wanna kiss your lip. I want to kiss you until I lose my breath.” was supposed to happen, and basically Spencer has to reject her and on the wedding day Reader gets a phone call from Cat, offering her a deal but she rejects it and Reader moves away to the UK and yeah know BLAH BLAH BLAH and years later she comes back and discovers Spencer was murdered and she has to solve the case and in the end Cat did it. Yeah so that’s what happened could’ve been a sick story but I lost interest and couldn’t write it at all so sorry about that. Don't be too mad at me.

#Criminal Minds #criminal minds angst #criminal minds x reader #spencer reid #dr spencer reid

36 notes · View notes

chroniclackofselfpreservation · 4 years ago

Text

Creatures of the Night

Chapter 2 - and down they forgot as up they grew

< Previous chapter / Next chapter >

AO3

Masterlist

(TW: child abuse, intense arguing, off-screen character death, car crash, blood, and mild injury.)

(The title for this chapter comes from "anyone lived in a pretty how town" by E. E. Cummings.)

Stokemore, Missouri.

Age: 10

Roman sat at the kitchen counter tapping his pencil against his chin. The math homework for this week was fractions, and he hated fractions. The clock on the wall ticked softly, and the dishwasher thrummed on the opposite side of the counter. His parents had left to go grocery shopping an hour and a half ago. He was starting to get worried, which wasn't helping him finish his homework at all. Pushing back, he clambered down the stools that were still a bit too high for him and grabbed the landline from its port near the fridge. He punched in his father's phone number, mouthing the words to the song he'd made up to help himself remember the number. The line rang... and rang, and rang. Nothing. The automated voice of a woman told him his father was unavailable, but he could leave his name and number after the beep. Roman replaced the phone and wiped his hands on his pants. What was he getting so worked up about? They were only at the grocery store. He was sure they'd be back in a few minutes. Nothing to worry about.

Roman climbed back up onto the stool and stared at his homework. He was only three questions in with seven more to go, and was stuck trying to figure out how to multiply three-fourths by five-eighths.

The front door slammed open.

"Roman?! Roman, where are you?" his father shouted, near hysterical. He rounded the corner before Roman had a chance to reply. His face was pale and covered in sweat, his hair plastered to his forehead.

"Dad, what's going on? Where's Mama?"

His father grabbed his backpack, unzipped it, and dumped all of the contents out onto the floor. He shoved the empty bag at his son. "Take this upstairs and fill it with clothes. Grab anything you don't want to leave behind."

"What? Why? Dad, what—"

"Just shut up and do it, Roman!" his father exploded. Roman's mouth snapped shut and he nodded, taking the backpack and sprinting up the stairs to his room. He blinked back tears as he collected a smattering of shirts, pants, socks, and underwear. His father had never yelled at him before. Had he done something wrong? Where was his mother? He could hear his father packing his own things down the hall. Roman made sure to pack his storybook, plastic sword, and dragon plushie Sir Sings-A-Lot. The name originated from an inside joke between him and his mother.

His father opened his door, holding a duffel bag in one hand and his wallet in the other. "Ready?" he said, out of breath. Roman nodded again, slinging the pack over his shoulder. "Good. Get in the truck. We're leaving." Roman wanted to ask where they were going and why they were leaving without Mama, but doubted he would get an answer. A minute later, and they were both piled into his dad's truck and pulling out of the driveway.

"Dad, you didn't lock the door," Roman said softly.

His father gripped the steering wheel with both hands and stared straight ahead as they drove down the road away from their house. "We're not coming back, Roman."

"But what about school? I promised Elliot I'd help out with their project tomorrow."

"You're going to a different school now," he said, his knuckles growing white. They pulled out onto Main Street and headed toward the interstate on-ramp.

Roman grew upset. "But I don't want to go to a new school, all of my friends are here! Why do we have to leave?"

"Roman, now really isn't the time—"

"Why won't you tell me where Mama is? Why can't she come with us? What happened?"

"She's dead, Roman! Okay?" his father barked, tears finally slipping down his cheeks. Roman's voice died in his throat. "I watched her die right in front of me and the last thing she said was to grab you and run so that's what we're going to do and if you ask me one more question I swear I'm going to lose it so just be quiet until we get wherever we're going, okay?" he blurted, his voice cracking miserably.

Roman choked out a whispery, "Okay," and pulled his knees up into his chest. Tears dribbled down his chin and he muffled the strangled noises of crying with his sleeve. Mama was...? How? Why? Who had done it? Why was his father there? But none of that mattered. All of the questions that usually flooded his mind were pushed aside by the overwhelming sadness filling his lungs like water.

His mother was gone, just like that.

* * * * * * * * * *

Wakeby, Oklahoma.

Age: 13

Roman opened the door to the apartment, his nose crinkling at the sickly sweet odor of alcohol that washed over him. Closing the door behind him, he found his father sitting on the couch watching the television with a half-empty bottle of beer dangling from his fingers.

"Hey, Dad."

His father grunted a reply, tipping his head back. Roman walked over to the counter, setting his backpack on the stool. A newspaper of job listings covered in angry red X's sat discarded on the floor. He looked back at his father, who had begun flipping absentmindedly through the channels. He'd been struggling to find another job after getting fired from his last one for yelling at a customer. Determined to cheer him up, at least a little bit, Roman rummaged through his backpack and pulled out the drawing he'd made in art class today: a knight in armor fighting off a fire-breathing dragon. It was pretty good, too. He walked around to the front of the couch and placed a hand on his dad's shoulder.

"I made something today in art class. Do you want to see it?"

His father looked up at him, his eyes red and swollen. He stared at his son for a moment before looking at the outstretched piece of paper. He licked his lips and managed a smile. "It's really good, Roman."

Roman's heart swelled. His dad hadn't smiled for two weeks. Spurred on by the good sign, he continued, "Yeah, I made a new friend today as well. His name is Virgil and he's also in my art class. He's a lot better at drawing than I am. He doesn't talk a lot in class, but he let me look at his sketchbook the other day. I told him he could come sit with me, and Logan, and Patton at lunch, but he said no. I think I'll ask him again tomorrow."

His father sniffed and set his beer down. "Good for you, Roman."

Hoping to ride out this new good mood, Roman jogged back to his pack, unzipping it. "Speaking of school, there's a field trip tomorrow to the Natural Life Museum. I have a permission slip for you to sign if—"

"The Natural Life Museum?" his father said, picking up his bottle and taking a swallow. "Isn't that over in Windon?"

"Well, yeah, but—"

"Roman, you know you aren't allowed to leave town."

His hope fluttered nervously. "I know, but I'll be with the school group. Lots of teachers will be there, so I thought you'd be okay with it. Windon isn't too far, right?"

"My answer is no."

"What if you chaperoned? Parents are allowed to come as well! Then you would be with me the entire—"

"You're not going, Roman!" His father stood, steadying himself on the arm of the couch. "Don't argue with me on this."

"Fine, whatever," he snapped, stuffed the permission slip back into his pack, and went to his room without another word. Roman didn't get it. His father had never explained it further than, it's dangerous. What was that supposed to mean? He understood that what his father witnessed three years ago was traumatizing, but it wasn't as if Roman hadn't also lost someone. He didn't even get to say goodbye. You didn't see him wallowing around in self-pity and micromanaging anyone else's life. He wanted so desperately to go. If he didn't, he'd get stuck in some boring study hall for the entire day.

A thought came to him.

Carefully, he took the permission slip back out of his backpack and smoothed it out on his desk. Grabbing a pen, he checked the box next to Yes, I will allow my child to attend this activity.

He hesitated for only a second before signing his father's name on the subsequent line.

* * * * * * * * * *

Roman's knee bounced nervously as the bus rolled farther and farther away from Wakeby. He knew his father's convictions about him being in danger weren't real, but still. Something about breaking a rule he'd heeded for three years until this point was exhilarating, if not a bit terrifying.

"Are you okay?" Virgil asked, glancing at Roman as he wrung his hands.

"What? Oh, yeah, I'm fine. I've just never left town before."

"You've never left Wakeby? Why? There are only, like, eight hundred people that even live here."

Logan, who was sitting on the bench in front of them, flipped around to face them. "Because his father's paranoid." Patton slapped his shoulder and he recoiled. "What? It's the truth."

"My dad worries a lot," Roman supplemented, "He thinks that something bad might happen to me if I leave town without him. I don't think he's right, but he's still my dad." Virgil swallowed and looked down at his shoes. He did that a lot. Roman had stopped taking offense to it, simply figuring it was Virgil's personality.

Patton turned around as well, kneeling on the seat and resting his chin along the back. "Then how'd you get the teachers to let you on the bus?"

Logan pushed his glasses up his nose, "He obviously forged the signature."

"Let the whole bus know, why don't you?" Roman grumbled.

"Roman, I'm surprised at you!" Patton gasped, horrified. "You got on the field trip by lying?"

He threw his hands up, exasperated. "What was I supposed to do, Patton? Sit in study hall for six hours while all of my friends get to have fun at the museum? Sorry, that isn't exactly my idea of a good time."

"Do you think anything bad will happen to you if you leave?" Virgil asked so softly they almost didn't hear it.

"What?" Roman laughed, confused.

Virgil sighed, shifting around in his seat and pulling at the sleeves of his over-sized jacket. "I don't know. Do you think your dad's right?"

"The likely hood of 'something bad' happening on the trip will be relatively low, Virgil. We're traveling in a group with plenty of adult supervision," Logan said. Before any of them could say something more, however, Ms. Hinckle leaned over and told Logan and Patton to sit normally in their seats.

The museum was incredible. According to Virgil, it was just like any other museum, but for the last three years Roman only had access to the meager attractions available in Wakeby: the movie theater, a few diners, and the amphitheater where his junior acting club met on Thursdays. The last time he remembered visiting a museum, his mother had been alive. Determined to enjoy himself, Roman dragged his three friends through every attraction The Natural Life Museum had to offer. Patton particularly enjoyed the butterfly exhibit, and Logan's eyes lit up whenever Roman asked him a question about one of the displays. Even Virgil looked like he was beginning to enjoy himself, though he still remained relatively quiet and reserved.

"All right, Virgil. It's your turn to pick where we go," Patton panted after they'd scaled the four flights of stairs. Roman had casually mentioned that he was faster than Logan, to which Logan replied that, objectively, he wasn't. Thus, the race up the stairs had ensued. Virgil, equally out of breath, pointed at a sign on the wall. The dinosaur exhibit. They wandered the section of the museum for nearly an hour, making sure to take notes on the hand-out Ms. Hinkle had given them on their way off the bus. Roman found endless entertainment in misidentifying each fossil as a mythical creature, completely ignoring Logan's outraged corrections.

"How does that look anything like a hippogriff? First of all, there's no physical evidence that they ever existed, and secondly—"

"Oh, lighten up and enjoy the reconstructed dead things, Lo," Roman groaned, tugging on his arm.

"Roman? Has anyone seen Roman?" a familiar voice called through the exhibit. Roman looked up. It was Ms. Hinkle.

"Hold on, guys," he said, jogging over to the teacher. She looked worried, her phone in her hand.

"Thank goodness," she sighed, placing a hand on Roman's shoulder. "Your father's looking for you. Apparently, he never signed your permission slip. Care to explain yourself?"

Roman's stomach dropped. "Uh, well, you see... it's a funny story, actually. I—"

"Don't you lie to me, Roman Kingsley," she warned.

His façade dropped. "I just wanted to come on the field trip and hang out with my friends, but my dad wouldn't sign the paper! I didn't want to sit at school and do nothing all day!"

Ms. Hinkle put her hands on her hips. "Roman, you know that lying is wrong. Same goes for forgery."

"I know."

"Normally, I'd have to call your parents, but seeing as your father already knows, I'll let it slide this time," she sighed. "He's on his way to pick you up. I'll wait with you out by the parking lot, okay? Go tell your friends why you have to leave, then come straight back."

"Yes, ma'am," Roman said sheepishly, walking back to where Logan, Patton, and Virgil all stood, watching.

"What happened?" Patton asked, nervous.

"They found out I faked the signature. My dad's coming to pick me up in a few minutes. I... I have to go home," he said miserably. "I'll see you guys tomorrow in class." He turned and fled before any of them could say anything. He really didn't want a pity party, and he especially didn't want any of them to see how upset he was. His father had just started cheering up again, and he had to go and do this. His father would never trust him again.

* * * * * * * * * *

Ms. Hinkle kept her word and waited patiently on the front steps of the museum with Roman. She tried to talk to him a few times, but he wasn't really in the mood to talk—a surprise, yes, he realized. He pointed out his father's white pickup as it pulled into the parking lot and waved goodbye to Ms. Hinkle as he made his way over. His father didn't get out of the car. He didn't even look over at Roman as he approached. Roman saw his teacher watching with a concerned expression as they drove off.

The car was completely silent, except for the soft ticking of the blinker. He couldn't even hear his dad breathing. Roman opened and closed his mouth a few times, trying and failing to think of something to say. The silence was suffocating, like someone was smothering him with a pillow. It reminded him of the drive they'd taken the day his mother died. He hated when his father got quiet like this. It meant he was either depressed, or extremely upset. Roman guessed the latter.

They pulled into their parking slot in front of their apartment building and his father killed the ignition.

"Dad, I—" Roman started, but his father shut him up with a look, getting out of the truck and slamming the door behind him. Roman's heart clenched. He was in far more trouble than he'd counted on. Letting out a shaky breath, he undid his seat belt and followed his dad up the stairs. As they ascended, he found himself growing less scared and more angry. Nothing had happened. His father should have no reason to be scared anymore. No reason to keep him confined to this insufferably small town for the rest of his life. His dad opened the door, then motioned for Roman to enter before him. He swallowed, and stepped over the threshold. His father closed the door, and pinched the bridge of his nose, sighing wearily.

"You're grounded," he said with the soft tremble of someone very near a breaking point. "For three months."

"Three months?"

"You will not leave this apartment except to go to school until the end of May, do you understand?"

"No, not exactly," Roman said derisively. "Nothing happened, Dad. I don't understand why you're so upset!"

"I told you explicitly not to go, and what did you do? You went! You faked my signature, lied to your teachers, and for what? Huh?! Tell me, what was so important? Your friends? They don't matter!" his father shouted.

"Shut up! They are the best thing that's happened to me since mom died! You're so paranoid about some boogeyman that doesn't exist! You just sit on the couch all day drinking beer and being depressed. Well, I'm sorry I got over mom's death and you didn't, but you can't keep me locked up because you haven't learned how to deal with it!!" he screamed.

His father's nostrils flared and he back-handed Roman across the face. Roman's head snapped sharply to the side and his ears rang from the force of it. He felt a small spot of fire on his cheek where his father's ring had punctured his skin. He grabbed him painfully tight, pinning his arms to his sides.

"I'm trying to keep you safe!" he pleaded. His grip tightened and Roman whimpered. "Can't you see that?! Why can't you see that?"

"Dad—"

"You don't know what's out there, Roman. I do. I've seen it. Seen it do terrible things."

"Dad, stop! You're hurting me—"

"Listen to me!" his father bellowed, hysterical. Roman choked back a sob, biting his bottom lip so hard he was worried it, too, might start bleeding. "You will never leave Wakeby again. Am I perfectly clear?"

Roman nodded, not trusting himself to speak without breaking down. His father stared at him for a moment, as if coming to his senses. He reached up and touched the trail of blood streaking down Roman's cheek.

"I'll get the first aid kit," he muttered. He released Roman and, looking exhausted, shuffled into the bathroom. Roman couldn't stop shaking. He barely withheld the tears that threatened to spill down his face. He stayed quiet as his father returned and cleaned his face up, quiet as his father muttered something about it being an accident, quiet as he finally retreated into his room before, at last, breaking down.

He would never leave Wakeby again.

* * * * * * * * * *

Wakeby, Oklahoma.

Age: 20

Roman pulled up to the quaint little house and switched off the ignition. He could feel the excitement bubbling up inside him. He'd finally done it. He'd moved out of his father's apartment. Not only that, but he was getting to live with his three best friends. Logan, who had graduated a year before the rest of them, was returning home after getting a bachelor's degree in elementary education, and Roman was nearly out of his mind with excitement to see his friend again. Patton had spent the last two years out of high school working with his mother at her nursing home while going to school online. He was the one who had given Roman the idea to try it out himself. Before that, he'd been convinced he'd work at Mia's bagging groceries for the rest of his life, what with his father breathing down his neck every waking moment. If he kept up with it, at the pace he was going, he'd have his associates before Christmas.

Virgil... Well, Roman was unsure about him. He said that he didn't have any plans after high school, avoided questions, and never talked about his parents. He'd been absent the entire summer spending time with them. Apparently, they lived farther out in the mountains and and raised rabbits, or something. He'd come back a few days ago and was acting even more reserved than usual. Roman was curious, sure, but understood. He didn't like talking about his parents with other people either. Even his three best friends only knew the bare minimum about why his father was the way he was. They didn't press him for details, and he didn't press Virgil.

Taking a breath, he got out of the truck, grabbed his bags, and walked up the front steps. He stopped in front of the door and turned back. He could see the edge of Wakeby from here. Maybe one day he'd do it.

Maybe...

* * * * * * * * * *

Interstate 59, just outside Wakeby, Oklahoma.

Age: 20

"Tell me again why we have to go all the way to Tolburn for this?" Roman asked, looking over at Virgil. He sat in the passenger seat, still swimming in his jacket like he had in middle school.

"He's a good therapist," he said, shrugging. He fiddled with his jacket sleeves and didn't look up.

"I'm just glad I'm finally getting out of Wakeby, you know?" Roman sighed. No reply. He tipped his head side to side, thinking. "You know, speaking of therapists, do you remember Emile?"

"Picani?"

"Yeah. Apparently, he's a psychology major. Wants to be a therapist! Dr. Emile Picani, how crazy does that sound?... Oh, come on, Doctor Gloom, I'm tryna get you out of this funk you've been in ever since the summer," Roman whined, leaning back into the seat as he drove. He glanced over. Virgil was shaking. Roman sobered immediately and sat up, "Hey, hey, what's wrong? Did I say something? Talk to me, Virgil."

He took a shaking breath and looked up at Roman, cheeks stained with tears. "I'm so sorry."

"What are you—"

Virgil lifted a hand, then slammed it down into his seat. A crack of thunder exploded beneath the truck, sending them flying into the air. Time slowed down and Roman watched, his brain unresponsive and sluggish, as the vehicle flipped. He looked at Virgil. His friend looked regretful and sad, but not concerned about the crash in the least. Roman's brow knit together and he started to say something when the roof of the car hit the asphalt. A burst of hot white pain erupted across his forehead and the world went dark.

* * * * * * * * * *

Pain. Before Roman had even opened his eyes, he felt the pain. It was all over, radiating across his head, through his chest, and down his arms. He heard muffled talking, like his head was underwater. Whatever it was he was lying on was cold and damp; he'd be shivering if he weren't so exhausted. Roman opened his eyes, squinting. He was lying on his side, so the scene before him was set off-kilter and blurry. There was some bright source of flickering light a few feet away from him. A fire? Had someone found him and Virgil after the crash? Hopefully that was the case.

Roman licked his lips and blinked a few times, trying to clear his head. He tasted the tang of blood on his tongue and tried to speak, but all that came out was a garbled whimper. The muffled voices stopped, then became clearer as the speaker approached him.

"...finally up. Let's hope you didn't rattle his skull too hard, kitty. This prince won't do me any good if he can't walk straight." It sounded like a woman, though Roman wasn't too confident in his senses at the moment. He felt a cool hand on his temple. "Mend the bones and clear the mind, skin and tooth and blood in kind," she chanted. Painfully uncomfortable sensations ricocheted through his entire body, but all he could manage was a weak groan. It felt akin to stepping into hot water after walking barefoot through the snow. Pins and needles on the brink of unbearable. Eventually, his head cleared and the feeling faded, leaving him feeling a considerably smaller amount of pain than before. He was still sore, but now he could sit up without worrying about being sick with dizziness. Looking around again, he now saw he was in a large cave with stalactites dripping water onto the damp stone floor. A crackling fire sat in a bed of coals, tended to by a morose-looking Virgil who squatted down near it and poked it with a stick.

"Virgil? What's going on?" Roman asked, but received no reply. Not even an upward glance. Suddenly remembering the woman behind him, he scrambled back. "Who are you? Where am I?"

The woman smirked, a hand on her hip. If he had to guess, she was somewhere in her early sixties, though she appeared as spry as ever. She wore a forest-green velvet dress riddled with pockets and patches. Her graying hair was long and unkempt. She looked like she'd been living away from civilization for quite a while. For a split second, he wondered if this was Virgil's mother, then discarded the thought. They looked nothing alike, and there definitely weren't any rabbits.

She squatted down in front of Roman. "Have you ever heard of the Dragon Witch, my prince?" Behind him, Virgil snorted. She shot him an angry look, then returned her attention to Roman. "Well?"

"Uh, no, and I'm not your prince. Can we leave, now?"

The woman threw her head back and cackled. "This one's funny, Virgil. I think I'm going to like him. Much more entertaining than the last one. I am the Dragon Witch, boy. Don't forget it. Now, give me your hand."

Roman pulled away from her. "Why? I still don't know what's going on. Virgil, please, just—"

"Virgil please, Virgil please," the woman mocked, shooting him a triumphant glance. "Wow, you've really got your hooks in this one, don't you, kitty? Or maybe it's the other way around?"

"Shut up and just start the ritual," Virgil snapped, still staring at the fire. His eyes were red and puffy, like he'd been crying. Roman's head spun. What the heck was going on? Who was this Dragon Witch, and what sort of ritual was she supposed to be doing? Why was Virgil here, and why was he completely ignoring him? The woman huffed an aggravated sigh and stepped toward Roman, grabbing him by his wrist and pulling him to his feet.

"Hey, what are you—Stop!" he demanded, trying to wrench himself free. She was far stronger than she looked. The strange woman dragged him deeper into the cave where the light from Virgil's fire grew more and more distant. When they'd traveled what must have been an adequate distance, she stopped. He could barely see her in front of him.

"Listen, lady. I don't know what you think you're doing, but I'm not just going to participate in some weird ritual. If my friend and I can just be on our way, we'll be out of your hair for good."

"Secure the spirit, bind the feet, power drawn from ancients deep." Her eyes began to glow gold. Roman tried to pull away, but his feet were stuck fast, as if they'd set in concrete. She still gripped his wrist, and her nails began to dig into his skin. "Strip the powers, rake the soul. Receive the curse and pay the toll. In mine own stead stand you this day, forever this one part to play. Magic from the Witch Queen past, fight until you breathe your last..." the chanting then devolved into some rasping language that Roman couldn't recognize. He saw her free arm move in the darkness, and gasped as a hot line of fire traced across the length of his palm. Warm sticky blood spilled between his fingers and onto the ground below. Suddenly, runes that he hadn't been able to see before began to beam the same rich gold as the woman's eyes. She released his wrist and stepped out of the circle, bringing the knife to her lips and whispering a final, "Seal it in blood!"

Roman's entire body shuddered and he doubled over, collapsing to his knees. It felt as if his blood was flowing backwards and everything inside of him was attacking everything else. It was just... wrong. He couldn't put it into words, but basically it was the worst feeling ever. He grabbed fistfuls of his own hair and screamed, wanting to crawl out of his own skin. It was over in the blink of an eye, and yet it had lasted an eternity. Roman was left trembling and shaking on the cave floor as the last of the gold light faded from the runes around him and the woman's eyes.

He vaguely remembered what happened next. The woman led him back to the fire, handed Virgil a letter addressed to Roman sealed with a thumbprint of his own blood, then handed him over. They left. Just like that. As if nothing had happened. Roman, unable to walk on his own, let alone speak, allowed Virgil to guide him down the mountain he didn't remember climbing. Something happened that Roman either couldn't describe, or his mind couldn't register, because one minute they were in the middle of the forest with no civilization in sight, and the next they were making their way through a field toward Roman's truck. It was still flipped over and all the glass was broken.

"Virgil..." he managed as his friend lowered him to the ground next to the truck. He tucked the letter into Roman's front pocket carefully.

"Stay there. Just... don't move for a minute," he said and clambered through the window and back into the truck. Roman couldn't tell if what Virgil was doing didn't make sense or if his mind was just muddled. Roman obeyed, though he doubted he could have gotten very far had he decided to run. What had just happened? Virgil, now thoroughly wedged into the truck, reached a hand out to Roman and touched the top of his hand.

"I'm sorry, Roman. Please forgive me. Mind and matter bend and break, let what once was never wake."

Instantly, Roman's mind was crisp and clear like a winter's day before anyone had a chance to mar the snow with footprints. His mind reeled back to the crash. He'd lost control and hit a ditch. Flipped the truck. He'd been the first one awake. Virgil was unresponsive. Desperate, he searched the surrounding area for signs of life. A fire in a cave up the side of the mountain. He'd hiked up, desperate to get some help for his friend. He'd met the Dragon Witch. She ambushed him and the ritual ensued. She gave him a letter, then sent him through some kind of portal with a snap of her fingers, and—

Roman gasped, sitting up. He was back at the scene of the accident. She sent him back! Fear spiking through him, he scrambled to the window of the overturned car.

"Virgil?! Come on, buddy, wake up. Don't die on me, please!"

Virgil, who was nothing but a tangle of limbs wedged in the crumpled cabin, coughed and groaned, shifting around somewhat. Roman nearly burst into tears of relief. He eventually managed to pull Virgil from the wreckage. His phone had remained undamaged and he called 911.

Help was on the way.

3 notes · View notes

kaitycole · 5 years ago

Text

A Year After: Sawyer

Summary: What happens in the 365 days since Morgan left Sweetridge for her dream job in Boston.

Word Count: 2629

Pairing: Sawyer x Morgan (F) (Past tense) Sawyer x ???

Rating: PG-13, there’s smut but it’s pretty tamed

Tag List: @desiree—1986 @kacie-0156 @shakespeareanwannabe

A/N: This is the second part which follows Sawyer once Morgan leaves.

P.S. This is prior to me reading Book Two as well as a modified ending to Book One.

“I….”

“Seriously? Did everything that’s happened the last few weeks mean so little to you?”

“No! Sawyer, I couldn’t say goodbye because the last few weeks have meant everything to me! All last night, I kept trying to find the right moment to tell you, but every time…I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.”

Sawyer shakes his head repeatedly, “I just don’t believe it. You could’ve said something when we snuck off, before we…we…”

He doesn’t finish his statement, he just turns away from her, hopping back up on his horse.

“Sawyer…”

“Hope that job gives you everything you want, Morgan.”

She watches as he taps the horse’s side, causing his horse to start walking back up to the ranch. Getting back in the car, she looks back at the Oakley’s, Cliff patting his son’s shoulder as he walks into the house.

I’m doing the right thing, right? This is what I’ve been working towards for years.

“Alright Spike, let’s go.” She looks over to at the cactus, but for some reason she gets the feeling that if it could, it would give her a disapproving look.

Fall

“What did you expect, Sawyer? She was just passin’ through and you barely knew each other.” Duke starts on his lecture as Sawyer aggressively shovels hay in the barn.

It has been three months since Morgan left, taking that fancy schmancy job in Boston, leaving the Montana gang behind her. But based off Sawyer’s behavior, you’d have thought that she left yesterday. Duke has never seen his brother this low over a girl before, sure he had a few interests in high school that ended, but this was different.

He props the shovel up against the wall before sitting on the floor. He runs his hands through his hair after sitting his hat on his knee.

“I guess I just thought she meant what she said.”

“I know it’s hard, but it does get easier, Sawyer.”

“Yeah, I’ve been hearing that a lot lately.” Standing up, he kicks the ground before walking out of the barn, not really feeling any better from his brother’s version of a pep talk.

Later that night, Sawyer let’s Juliette and Curly convince him to join their bonfire. Dallas and Jo are already there when they finally walk up.

“Hey y’all!” Juliette says as they all sit around the fire, seeing Sawyer looking at the spot that had been Morgan’s not so long ago.

“Are you excited for Smalltown, USA to come?” Jo says, trying to break the awkward silence.

“I think it will be a big thing for Sweetridge. Help put us more on the map,” Curly shrugs.

“What about you, Sawyer?”

“If it’s fixin’ to end like the last time a stranger came here, stayed and then just up and left, I think I’ll pass.” He pushes himself up and walks away.

“Morgan leaving really tore him up, didn’t it?” Jo asks as Juliette nods.

“I’ve never seen him this upset before, but you can’t blame him. Her leaving threw us all for a loop.”

“Should one of us go talk to him?” Curly asks, hating seeing a friend so upset.

“He’s not ready for help. But when he is, he’ll come askin’.”

* *

He finds himself driving with no real destination. Constantly flipping through the stations to try and find something to stop on. Every song so far has been one they listened to, reminded him of her or that she loved.

I've changed the presets to my truck,

So those old songs don't sneak up.

But they still find me

And remind me

Yeah you come back that easy

He slams on his breaks, pulling his truck over to the side of the road before he slams his palms against the steering wheel. He assaults the steering wheel some more, before he screams, “Fuck!”

Sawyer takes a deep breath, pulling himself together even though the tears on his cheeks show that he’s actually falling apart.

“Come back Morgan, come back to me,” his voice is low, almost a whisper, “Please.” His voice cracks as a sob escapes.

Winter

The Oakley’s, Mendoza’s and friends are all gathered together, watching their episode of the reality TV show.

“We can clearly see who the main character of this episode is,” Juliette jokes, nudging Sawyer’s shoulder with her knee since he was sitting on the floor in front of her.

“I’m just flaunting what my Momma gave me,” he playfully shrugs.

“I really hope we don’t get an influx of people moving in. I’d hate for the smalltown charm to be taken over.” Asha says, “Tourists I’m fine with. Residents, not so much.”

“I can agree with that,” Cliff said.

“You think Morgan is watching this?” Curly says, slightly hopeful.

Almost everyone gives him a dirty look before hearing Sawyer sigh, “If she was ever the girl I thought I knew, I’d say she is. She has to miss y’all.”

Juliette rubs his shoulder, “She misses you too, Sawyer.”

He shrugs, standing up, “Yeah, I don’t know about all that. ‘Scuse me, I need some air.”

Juliette follows Sawyer outside, “She’d be a fool not to think about you.”

He shakes his head, “The only fool is me, thinking that what she and I had was anything more than some fling.”

She wraps her arms around him, pulling him into a hug. Their friendship was the perfect solace for Sawyer, Juliette didn’t demand anything back but for his support when she needed it and help when she found herself in trouble.

He winces, her brow knits as she gently slides his shirt up, revealing dark purple bruises, “Ohmygod! Sawyer what is that!”

“Looks like a bruise to me,” was not the proper response he learned when she swatted his arm, “I got roughed up training for the rodeo.”

“What!?! I didn’t know you were training.”

“I just needed something to do to get her out of my head.”

“By the looks of this, she’s still in your head.” Her fingertips gently rub over the bruises.

He leans down, pressing his forehead to the top of her head. He takes a deep breath, inhaling her scent. They’ve never walked so close to the edge before. They were friends, that’s all. Sure, they were each other’s better half, but that’s just what best friends right?

“Jules ,” he whispers as he pulls her chin up towards him. He presses his lip to her, trying to find comfort, find what he’s been missing since Morgan left, but he doesn’t.

“Sawyer,” she pushes him away slightly. Looking at his face, she sees pure guilt. She places a hand on his cheek, giving him a gentle smile.

“I’m sorry.” He kicks the dirt at his feet.

“I’m not mad, but that isn’t how you’re gonna get over this.”

“I know.” He shoves his hands in his pockets.

She loops her arm with his, “Let’s go drink, huh? Oh, and Sawyer?”

“Yeah?”

“You ain’t half bad at kissing.”

Spring

“And the winner is Dick Mullagen, with a score of 86!” The crowd is a mix of cheering and boos after the announcer give the name of the winner.

“That’s a bunch of horse manure if you ask me,” Curly says, “He had that one in the bag!”

“Hey, here he comes,” Jo says as Sawyer walks over to the group.

“Just need a little more practice, is all,” Cliff says, patting his son on the back of his shoulder, “I’m still proud of you, son.”

“Thanks dad.” Sawyer smiles, it’s the first sincere smile he’s worn since Morgan left.

“Hey Oakley,” Dick yells from behind him, “I’d say better next time, but we all know I’ll win.”

Sawyer rolls his eyes.

“Do you think his mother knew he was going to be a total dick or that he became a dick because that’s his name?” Dallas asks, causing the whole group to erupt in laughter.

* *

“You done training for the day, Oakley?”

He pulls on Dolly’s harness, stopping her before looking over at Juliette. She was carrying a pitcher of lemonade. He hops off his horse and joins her for a glass.

“Refreshing, Mendoza.” He winks at her.

The two have seemingly moved passed the kiss they shared, but each would be lying if they said they weren’t thinking about it. A few touches lingered, cheeks blush and late nights lasted longer.

They weren’t going to overstep the wall between friends and more than friends again because they couldn’t. Not because of the feud or that they were being stubborn. Sawyer knew Juliette, she was his best friend, and she deserved someone who would give her the world. Sawyer knew he couldn’t give her that, right now she’d just be a rebound, something she never deserved to be for anyone.

But he wouldn’t say no to some harmless flirting.

“How are you feeling nowadays? You haven’t mentioned her lately?” Juliette says, sitting next to him.

“Better. I think I just needed to find what made me happy again.” He sighs, “I still miss her though. It just doesn’t hurt as badly.”

“As long as it’s not destroying you, it’s completely normal.”

He sighs, leaning his head on her shoulder, “Is it wrong that if given the chance, I’d want to try again with her?”

“Nope. Not at all. As long as you don’t lose yourself.” She tilts her head, resting it on his, “I’ll be here for you, every step of the way.”

Summer

Sawyer wipes the sweat from his brow before placing his hat back on. Dolly trotted up to him, nudging him with her snout.

“You want a treat, girl?” Sawyer chuckles.

“Neiigghh!” The horse exclaims before chopping down on the carrot Sawyer holds out for her.

“We have another busy day today, Dolly.”

The horse’s demeanor changes, her ears duck down and she shakes her head.

“I know girl. But you’ll get extra carrots, how’s that?” Sawyer rubs the mare’s neck. She seems okay with this exchange and trots off before he can change the deal.

Shaking his head, he laughs before he hears a high pitch squeal and turns to see Brit. He puts on a smile, not his typical charming one, but a smile nevertheless.

“Sawyer!” She throws her arms around his neck, pulling him close to her.

“Hey Brit. You ready?”

“Of course!” She steps back and does a twirl, “Like my outfit?”

Sawyer looks down the slender blonde’s outfit, it was once again not an appropriate one, but she never listened to him. She has on a strappy short sundress with brand new cowboy boots. Clearly, they were bought when she first met Sawyer. Her long blonde hair was braided and tossed to the side.

“You look nice, Brit.” He bites the inside of his lip. Sawyer gathers up a horse for her and whistles for Dolly to join them.

After exerting little effort, she pokes out her lip and stomps her foot, “Sawyeerrr!” She whines, “I need help!”

He walks over to her, holding the top of the saddle and has his hand on her back, “Just step up and then swing your leg over.”

“Yay! I did it!” She squeals.

“You sure did,” he walks over to Dolly, who just stares at him. He lowers his voice, “oh hush.”

Once he is on Dolly, the two of them begin riding around the field.

* *

“I really enjoyed today, Sawyer,” Brit says before they stop and he hops off.

“I’m glad that you did. You’re getting a lot better.” He places his hand on her lower back to help her get down.

“I’m even better at riding in other ways,” she gives him a flirtatious smile as his face turns completely red.

“Now Miss Brit, that’s no way for a lady to talk.”

She tosses her head back, laughing, “If you’d let me, I’d show you I’m not lady.” She places her hand on his arm, letting it linger against his muscles.

“Same time tomorrow, Cowboy?”

“Same time tomorrow,” he tips his hat towards her before she walks away from him.

Reaching down, he grabs a carrot for each mare before he hears Curly yell, “Morgan, wait!”

He snaps his head in their direction, “Morgan?” He drops the carrot, much to Dolly’s dismay and runs after her.

“Morgan! Morgan, stop!” He shouts, pushing himself to run faster. “Wait!” He hits him palms on the hood of her car, almost daring her to drive off.

“Sawyer, move please.”

“Not until you talk to me.”

“There’s nothing to say,” her voice cracks, the tears falling.

“Get out of the car, please.”

“Just move, let me go.”

“Get out of the car, dammit!”

With a small huff, she gets out of the driver’s side before he walks over and stands in front of her.

“Don’t you have some blonde to get back to,” her voice is sharp.

He chuckles, “You mean Brit? Jealous?”

“As if. She looks as smart as that fence post.”

He chuckles again before explaining to her what Brit was doing at the ranch. That ever since Smalltown, USA aired the episode on Sweetridge, that tons of people came to the Oakley ranch for horseback riding lessons. How his brother sold him out since the women would pay extra for Sawyer to teach them.

She looked up at him completely embarrassed, her face burning red while her mouth once again went dry.

“I’m sure that’s not why you came back here though.” He has one hand pressed against the car by her head while the other hangs by his side “Why’d you come back, Morgan?”

Sawyer would be lying if he said he wasn’t glad she was back. That he had dreamed of this moment for a whole year now. But he was trying so hard to not let himself go there, he couldn’t go through that pain again.

“You.” Her voice in low, raw from the emotions flooding over her.

He leans into her, a huge smile on his face, “What was that?”

Looking up, she catches the look in his eye. It was the same look she’s had since leaving Boston the second time. She wraps her arms around his neck, pulling him into her because she presses her lips to his. He wraps his arms around her waist, pushing her into him, deepening the kiss.

“Sawyer,” she moans, feeling him kiss down her neck.

“Oh, get a room, would ya!” Curly and Juliette yell at the couple.

“That’s not a bad idea,” she winks as he picks her up, “Then let’s go.”

* *

Morgan has her head resting on Sawyer’s chest, one of his arms wrapped around her. They lay there, wrapped in nothing but each other and a thin sheet.

“Morgan,” his breathing is slow, she swore he had fallen asleep.

“Yes?”

“What about Boston?” He feels her stiffen next to him, “I can’t do this again if you’re just gonna leave.”

She sits up, looking over at him, “I quit.”

“You quit?”

“I left Boston for good. I quit my job. I came here…for you. For us.” She takes a deep breath, “That is, if you’ll take me back.”

He runs his finger through his hair as he sits up, “Morgan, I…I don’t want you to regret leaving Boston.”

“I went there, I was miserable without you.” She straddles his lap, “I want to be here. With you.”

He chuckles as she reaches over and placing his black hat on her head, “What on earth are you doing?”

“If I’m going to stay here, I think I need a refresher course on riding,” she winks just before he pulls her into his chest and kisses her, “And I hear you’re the perfect teacher.”

#pixelberry #choices fanfiction #choices #big sky country #choices bsc #sawyer x morgan

40 notes · View notes

obsidiancreates · 5 years ago

Text

Something Old, Something New

(Des meets my old evil version of me from when I was 13. I wrote it like how I pictured the inside of my brain looking back then too. So, weird. Weird and edgy.)

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Des looked around the space. “Now where were those Sides again...” she muttered.

Sid’s mind was difficult to navigate. Her constantly shifting thoughts and interests made the terrain just as unreliable, the ground changing shape and color with every step. The sounds of a thousand ideas choked the air, buzzing and screeching, somehow both too quite to hear and too loud to hear anything else. A song played behind the thoughts chatter, looping over and over, consistent background noise to the constant foreground cacophony.

Des moved out of the way of a a person, made of letters and some kind of gray mist, as they sobbed and ran past her. It left behind the feeling of abandonment, and on the ground where it had stepped it left behind words. “Rude Awakening,” Des read. Ah. An unfinished story.

She considered trying to recruit the story. She’d have to see if they had any kind of power or influence after they’d been left behind. If not, she’d let them die with Sid.

She continued on her quest. If she could find that ‘Jessa’, the irrationality Side, she could get her to overpower Sid...

Des walked right into a wall.

“Shit!” She reached up to hold her head, and felt something warm and wet. She brought her hand down, and found her fingers to be coated in blood and lava. She growled and wiped it off on the ground, which shifted from bright teal to deep red at her touch.

She looked up at the building she had slammed into. It was made of deep purple bricks. It didn’t seem to have a start or an end, stretching as wide and tall as the eye could see.

Des looked behind her. Had she already gotten to the subconscious? She couldn’t have...

There was one door. One way forward.

She rubbed her thumb on the end of her sword’s handle, and then went in.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

As soon ash she stepped through the door the world changed.

The music from before became overpowering, and the clamoring of the thoughts went completely silent. She was standing on solid ground, but there was no ground to be seen. She stood in a void, with only one thing in it.

A girl. A version of Sid, in fact. Not one that Des had seen before.

The girl’s hair was short and dark purple, or maybe long and bright purple, or maybe Sid’s normal hair...

Her clothes were a pair of ripped skinny jeans and a band shirt and a black hoodie and sneakers, and they were a black skirt with leggings and a long sleeved dark red shirt and knee-high boots, and they were loose jeans and a loose solid pink shirt, and-

Des rubbed her eyes. The girl’s appearance never stayed the same. All that remained unchanging was the fact that she looked like Sid. A... a younger Sid. From before Des had even existed.

The girl hovered in the air, grinning, singing along with the music.

“Now I know,” she did a spin, “there’s no-one I can trust!” She grabbed the shirt of a faceless figure and pulled them close “I used to think there was!” She shoved the figure away, and they vanished. “Tell me that I’m cut-throat!” She dragged a knife across her neck, grinning, her eyes wide and shifting between purple and black as though they just couldn’t make a decision, and as she dragged the knife across her throat blood poured out of it. “I think you got your eyes closed!” A giant pair of eyes materialized behind her, looking terrified and very similar to Sid’s own, and they squeezed shut.

Des stepped closer. How had she never even heard of this girl? She knew all of Sid’s characters...

“Feel the fear!” The girl stared down at a group of terrified people, all of them as hazy as extras in dreams, but terror clear on their blurry faces. “And swallow back the tears!” The giant eyes returned, crying, before the irises were swallowed with purple and the tears stopped flowing. “Let weakness disappear!” The girl threw her arms out and threw her head back, purple energy pulsing around her. “There’s nobody but me her!” she sang to a mirror, a mirror that showed a younger Sid pounding on the glass, screaming. The girl just grinned back. She grabbed the sides of the mirror and got close to the glass, her nose touching the image of Sid’s. “The killer in the mirror!”

The girl continued her little show, and Des tried to guess who she was.

She wasn’t a Side. She wasn’t some kind of new OC either, her age made that clear. But the song she was dancing to was new... so she must be an old character, and something dragged her back into the forefront of Sid’s imagination.

Realization dawned on Des.

Another evil ego. From long before Des was even a thought.

“Knock ‘em. In the. Teeth. Now,” the girl sang, slowly advancing on another dream-like group, “Never! Let your! Guard! Down!” She “Get some. Of what. They’ve. Got! Have it. And the. Have. Nots!” With every word she got closer. Des got closer as well, curious, and a little pissed off.

Another evil ego? Why did she come back? She was clearly stuck as the age at which Sid made her, so she hadn’t grown with her creator. She was a relic! A... worse version of what Des could have been!

Des wasn’t jealous. Of course not. She was the best, the best of all Sid’s silly little characters. She didn’t get jealous. At all. Ever. It was inconceivable.

The girl grinned even wider somehow. “Knock, knock, knock ‘em all the fuck out!” she screamed, lurching forward, a burst of power exploding through the void. Des shouted as it knocked her to the ground, pushing and dragging her across the floor, knocking the breath from her lungs.

She stayed still, wheezing, pain gripping her whole body. She could faintly hear the girl still singing, but her ears were ringing too much for it to be more than muffled incomprehensible noise.

And then she was pulled to her feet and staring the girl in the face.

The girl was considerably shorter, both because of her age and the extra height Des’s boots gave her. She made up for it by floating high enough to be at eye-level with Des. “Hiya!” she exclaimed.The blood and cut on here neck were gone without a trace. Her teeth looked just a bit too sharp to be human. Her eyes bore into Des’s, and if Des herself wasn’t an evil ego it might have set shivers through her spine.

The girl tilted her head. “Did that hurt ya?” She laughed. “I hope so!”

Des scowled. “Who are you?”

“I’m !)@%*!” she said, using Sid’s real name. Des flinched. The girl didn’t notice. “But cooler! And with no worries or limitations or restraints!” She shrugged, still grinning. “And a little insane!”

“I’m Sid’s evil ego,” Des growled. She drew her sword.

The girl tilted her head again. “Who’s Sid?” Her voice never stopped being cheery.

“I don’t use her real name, idiot.” Des straightened her posture and posed regally. “I am LavaDestroys.”

The girl chuckled. “I don’t have a name! Never did!” Her eyes never closed. They never even narrowed. They just stared, wide as they could be, never leaving Des’s own. “You look different!” The corners of her mouth drooped. It was barely perceptible, the grin was still plastered to her face, but it was clear something had upset her. “Older.”

Des nodded. “I am.”

“How much older?”

Des looked the girl up and down. “A little over two years, I think.”

The girl laughed, bitterness clear in the sound, her left eye twitching. “Two years? I’ve been gone for two years? And... you replaced me?”

Des put her sword away. The girl’s smile dropped completely, her teeth clenching and her breaths coming in short and shaky. Her whole face twitched with rage, and the purple of her eyes became much more red. She screamed, the void around them filling with clashing lights of various shades of purple. She gripped her hair, staring at the ground. Des backed away, but the rage powered light-show left her alone. She watched the girl, braced herself, and took a step forward.

She took slow, careful steps, until she was right next to the girl. She put her hand on her back. “You poor little thing,” she said, pity filling her voice. “Ignored, abandoned, forgotten...”

The girl’s head snapped up and she grabbed Des’s jacket, yanking her closer. “WHAT MAKES YOU BETTER THAN ME?! I WAS FUN! SHE HAD FUN IMAGINING FIGHTING ME!” Her voice cracked and rasped as she screamed at the top of her lungs.

“It’s hardly my fault I was created!” Des didn’t fight back. This girl... she was made before Sid realized her love of manipulative villains. before Sid knew how to properly write manipulation... how it worked.. which left her open to a few ‘suggestions’ from Des. “I never even knew you existed! She ruined you, not me!”

The girl bared her teeth. “YOU STILL REPLACED ME!” She was practically howling the words.

“Please, if you must be angry with anyone, be angry with Sid!”

The girl dropped Des, tears filling her eyes. “She even changed her name in the time I’ve been... been dead! I’ve been DEAD to her!” She shook with rage, with the strain of trying to draw breath through her feelings taking up her chest. “Why shouldn’t I just kill you?! HUH?!” She grinned again, still crying. “Then she’ll HAVE to pay attention to me again!”

“Or,” Des said, using her most soothing voice, “We could fight her together.”

“What?” the girl growled venomously.

“I hate her as well, of course.”

“I don’t hate her! I- I want to help!”

Des blinked, taken aback. “What?”

“She’s so stressed all the time! Having to be sweet and happy and nice all the time!”

Ah. Of course, made when Sid was thirteen... the start of her emo/edgy phase.

“She needs to loosen up!” The girl spread her arms out. “And I can help her do that! She’ll fight against it, but she’ll like it eventually!”

Dammit. Des thought for a moment. “Fine... I think we could still help each other.”

“Oh yeah? How? You seem way too uptight for my taste.” The girl cackled. “I want to go wild! Be unrestrained! You look like you never stop holding things back!”

Des grit her teeth and took a deep breath. “Sid has changed since you’ve been gone,” she said. “Didn’t you notice the new music? The fact that you can curse now? I’m so different from you because she re-thought how she’d like an evil version of her to be. Because her preferences have changed. Her personality has changed. She’s a different person.”

The girl shook her head. “Not that different. I’m here again! I can feel it! She still wants to be able to loosen up! She still can’t be herself the way she wants to!”

“But she expresses herself more now,” Des argued. “Trust me. She’s not the girl she was when she made you.” ‘She’s just different enough for you to need me.’ Des tried not to smirk as she thought that.

The girl looked thoughtful. “You want to kill her. I need her.”

“Well, perhaps I can kill her in more ways than one.” Des smiled. “She’ll hardly be the Sid I’m bothered by if you get ahold of her.”

The girl stared into Des’s eyes. Des stared back, unblinking, unyielding.

The girl nodded slowly. For a moment she looked like a normal kid, looking for some help, some guidance.

“I... guess I could see that.”

Now it was Des who grinned too wide. “Wonderful. Come with me.” She held her hand out. “We have a lot to plan.”

#My OCs #LavaDestroys #Ferox #Seriously I never thought of a name for her #Or set appearence #As you can probably tell lol #my writing #writing #my egos

23 notes · View notes

fernwehbookworm · 5 years ago

Text

Woke The F*ck Up- Chapter 13

December 10th, 2017

Lena sits on the bed and stares at the floor. She knew as soon as she saw Kara she would regret everything. Something obviously happened to her. She looked like a truck had hit her. But why didn’t she call? If she could just hop on a plane to get here after missing flights for a month, how come she couldn’t get here on time. Why did it take Lena breaking up with her for Kara to fucking show up? The toilet flushes and the bathroom door opens to reveal a very naked Veronica.

“The 'ex' didn’t expect to see you moving on so quickly, did she?” Veronica leans against the door frame.

“Get out,” Lena says quietly.

“Oh, come on Lee. We had fun. Don’t let blondie be a buzzkill.”

“Don’t call me that,” Lena says, the nickname stabbing straight into her chest.

“Lee? Why not?”

“Because I said so. Now get out Veronica!” Lena roared. She crossed the room to open the door. Veronica huffed and gathered her clothes before striding past Lena. At the door, she turns to the raven-haired singer.

“Call me when you're ready for more fun. Or you just need to forget.”

Lena slams the door shut and collapses on the bed, doing what she should have the evening before, crying until she falls asleep.

January 12th, 2018

“Lee-na… wow, I haven't shaid your name in a long time. I knew you would send me to voicemail. (Lena hears a shuddering breath) I’ve… I’ve tried to forget you. But… My heart hurts. My whole body hurts. I know I fucked up. And you fucked up. But I still want you. Despite everything and all the pain in my chest. It makes it hard for me to focus on… on what I’m doing. Why did you do this to me? Why did I do this to myself? I shtill want to tell you the truth, but I think you need to figure out what you want too. I just hope you decide before it's too late, before… before we can’t talk anymore.”

Lena listens to the voicemail for the tenth time. Kara was clearly drunk as she slurred her words. It hurt Lena because she drove Kara to do that. She was toxic. The last line always got her. Too late, like Kara wouldn't love her anymore? But it sounded more ominous than that. She stares at the now empty text message window with Kara’s name at the top. She deleted everything from before. Pictures, texts, Instagram posts (which caused a major commotion in the media), and her contact. But then Kara called her. Lena re-saved her number after that. Why didn’t she delete this too? Because Kara still wanted her. Emotions moved through the message like a hurricane, and it made Lena sick. It made her happy. It made her hurt. All she can think about is how Kara's blue eyes turned to steel when she heard Veronica's voice. How she instantly went to the bathroom to throw up as her stomach rolled and the alcohol soured. Then she ran down the hall trying desperately to catch Kara, Only to see her crying as the doors slid shut. Lena thought of taking the stairs, but she was still only wrapped in a sheet. The sheet from the bed where she fucked her ex in a moment of extreme weakness after ending things with Kara in a stupid voicemail. Anyone else would have been better, or no one. She should have just drunk with Sam then went home.

Lena’s head whips up as the back door bursts open into the alley.

“Fuck, sorry. Nobody is usually back here. I’m the only one who smokes in this place.”

Lena just nods and settles back against the wall she was huddled against. She turns her head to watch the already bustling London traffic in the morning gloom on the adjacent street and takes another drag on her cigarette.

Lena looks back at the other occupant of her hiding place as a string of cursing echoes through the alley and the woman throws her lighter against the brick wall of the building. The cheap plastic breaks and its parts skitter on the ground.

“Need a light?” Lena offers her the engraved lighter Lex sent her after the second album released. No note, no phone call. Just a lighter with her name and the Luthor house crest.

The woman flashes her an appreciative smile and takes the offered object. Lena watches her eyes widen at the name on the side. Well, if she didn’t know her at first, she does now. Lena takes the time as the woman lights the cigarette to study her. Light brown hair styled with an undercut flopped slightly in her deep brown eyes. Several piercings line the ear Lena can see and a small stud sparkles in her nose. A black leather jacket, a black shirt, with dark jeans tucked into black bikers boots. Not typically Lena’s type but hey, she can appreciate the beauty of women. She hands the lighter back.

“Sorry for earlier, guess it isn’t polite to cuss in front of the VIP for the studio huh? Also sorry I didn’t recognize you.”

“Don’t apologize. I like women with filthy mouths.”

“That was nothing, my mouth has a lot of practice at being filthy.” The brunette winks at the star and Lena takes one last brag before dropping the butt and squashing it under her heel.

“I’ll keep that in mind. But right now, I have an interview.”

Lena disappears inside to dodge her way through a radio interview about her personal life and her upcoming album release. She felt dirty and not in a good way. Flirting with other people had left her with this feeling every single time since Kara walked out of that hotel. She still did it, especially drunk or high, but sober, there was nothing stopping that feeling. She should call Kara, at least to hear what she had to say, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it.

A text comes in. Veronica is in London, asking if Lena wants to meet for drinks at her hotel tonight. Lena already knows what that means. What its meant the last three times. Lena honestly doesn’t even want to go, but then another text comes in, Veronica offers Lena a sample new strain cannabis she acquired that she wants to try and sell to her clients. Veronica knows how to pull her in every time; before Lena even decides, she sends a text agreeing to meet her later. Then she is calling Sam to cancel their dinner plans. Making another mistake, but it's like watching a car crash in slow motion. She just can’t stop herself.

“Good job this morning. I don’t think you answered a single question unless it was directly about the album.”

“Well, it’s just those Luthor genes, shining through.”

“You can thank your family for one thing then.”

“Yeah… So listen, Veronica’s in town.” silence on the other end, then Sam sighs.

“You’re bailing on me again, aren’t you?”

“Yeah,” Lena says softly.

“You know I don’t like this. I don’t like how you are handling everything. This isn’t you.”

“This is me, Sam. This is who I am.”

“Not the Lena I know. The Lena I know would be on her way over here to eat lasagna with me and her biggest fan then spend the rest of the evening drinking wine with me while my daughter tortures us with her piano playing.”

“No Sam. That was someone I pretended to be. I tried to be better than who I am and I am sorry that was the version you met but I am done pretending.”

“You are better Lena. You are so much better. And you deserve better too. Look, I’m your friend. I care about you. But if you continue further down this path, I may have to start taking actions as your boss.” Anger bubbled in Lena’s chest. How dare Sam try to change her, threaten her.

“It’s my life Sam, so fuck off.” She ends the call and hails a taxi.

All Lena wanted to do was to forget everything going on, forget the album she was stuck on, forget her brother’s incarceration and her mother’s warrant. Forget that she ran away from Kara and did the stupidest thing of her life. A thing she continues to do because sleeping with Veronica feels strangely safe, and familiar. It reminds Lena of simpler times. Veronica is ingrained in her bones more than Lena would like to admit. She should cut all ties, but she just can't bring herself to do it. Lena tells the driver the address for Veronica’s hotel.

January 15th, 2018

The cannabis Veronica sold to Lena was helping. Loud Dream it was called. An expensive hybrid meant to promote creativity and help with depression. Music flowed through Lena’s fingers again and inspiration struck. She had sent all morning in the studio working on the album that she has about four more weeks to complete before she is officially late on her deadline. She had spent so much time with writer's block that she wasn’t going to waste this.

I'm holding on Why is everything so heavy? Holding on So much more than I can carry I keep dragging around what's bringing me down If I just let go, I'd be set free Holding on Why is everything so heavy?

Lena stops playing, trying to figure out what is bugging her about the song. She turns to face the window separating her from the sound booth and Sam. The woman had been cold since there phone call last week, well cold for Sam. Lena didn’t blame her, but Lena wasn’t sorry either.

“Sam? This song is missing something.”

“What?” Sam says through Lena’s headphones.

“It’s not a solo.” “So what do you want?”

“Someone to sing it with me.”

“I can tell you already have someone in mind so just tell me so I can go watch my daughter’s karate class.”

“Linkin Park.” A heavy sigh, and a long pause. Lena thinks she hears papers shuffle.

“I’ll see what I can do.” Lena looks meaningfully at her producer.

“Thank you, Sam.”

“I’m just happy you’re recording again.” Sam gathers her stuff and leaves Lena in her studio.

January 19th, 2018

Sam hadn't reached out. Lena was alone again. She could feel it. The loneliness seeping in as she sat in her hotel room. It settled heavy in her chest, pressing down on her. Her last phone conversation with Sam helping weigh it down. She hadn’t felt bad at first, but now her conscience was screaming at her for how horribly she treated someone who genuinely cared for her. She ran out the cannabis she bought from Veronica earlier that morning and had long since sobered from the small amount. Veronica was gone, back to National City to check on some shady business or other, and a small bit of Lena was glad for that, she was weak and so tired. She didn’t want to rely on Veronica anymore to try and fill the gaping hole in her chest. Lena picked up her phone, checked it, and put it back down. The silence grows louder and louder until it’s deafening. After another half an hour, Lena breaks and calls her friend. She almost thinks Sam is going to ignore the call, answering just before she gets kicked to voicemail.

“What is it, Lena?”

“I...umm… well… I…”

“Lena, for a writer you are not good with words. I have to get back to making dinner. Ruby will be home soon. Call me when you figure out what you want.”

Sam's words being Kara's message back to mind. Sam sighs after a pause.

“Goodbye, Lena.”

“Wait! I… I miss you.”

“Then maybe you shouldn't have canceled on me three times, or told me to ‘fuck off’.”

“You’re right. I shouldn't have canceled on you. Can we… Can we talk? I know I haven’t been a good friend lately but I miss having one. And I miss Ruby too.” Silence on the other end. Lena can almost see Sam rubbing her forehead as she thinks.

“Are you sober? I will not have you high around my daughter. If you want to be in her life, then when you are with her you will be sober.”

“Yes, painfully so.”

“Alright, dinner will be ready in half an hour. Come over.”

Relieved, Lena hangs up and gets dressed in her favorite sweats before calling a cab to take her to Sam’s. She grabs Sam’s favorite red wine to take with her. Once she gets to Sam’s cute little-terraced house that matches every other one on the street, she hesitantly knocks on the door. It was close to Ruby’s school so Ruby could walk there on her own. That was the main selling point for Sam. She didn’t want a big mansion or to live lavishly, like she easily could, because she wanted Ruby to grow up with a semi-normal life. Lena remembers talking to Sam about how she became a single mom. A party in high school, ending with a drunken mistake. Sam being kicked out of her house for not aborting the baby. A stereotypical high school pregnancy. But then Sam rose above it. She worked part-time until she couldn’t at a coffee shop. She took out loans and started college. She worked hard, part-time student, part-time worker, full-time mother. She did it alone, only occasionally getting child support money from Ruby's father. Sam didn’t complain. What she did get she put in a savings account for her daughter to get when she was eighteen. Eventually, she worked her way into a comfortable job. Then worked her way up in different businesses around the world. She heard about the producer vacancy, applied, and got it. She and Ruby would never have to worry again.

The door pulls open and Lena is greeted by an enthusiastic girl before she can even say ‘hi’. Ruby has her in a tight hug around her waist and Lena tries to hug her back while still holding the wine. She sees Sam down the hall. Her face is hard but it softens at the sight of her daughter, she relieves Lena of the wine.

“Good, you brought the good stuff.” Sam walks back into the house, leaving Lena with a ten-year-old hanging onto her.

“Hello to you too Ruby,” she says, brushing unruly dark hair back from her face, Ruby looks up at her favorite person.

“I’ve missed you. Mom said you had some stuff to work out and that you would come back when you were ready.”

“I’ve missed you too, little one. I’m still working on some stuff but it shouldn’t keep me away from you anymore.”

“Promise?”

Lena looks at the girl’s dark and hopeful eyes, it breaks her heart. She was an idiot for everything she had done.

“I promise.”

“Ruby? Set the table, honey.” Sam calls from the kitchen. The girl finally detaches from Lena to go grab plates. Lena follows her into the kitchen, when the girl disappears into the dining room, Sam turns to Lena.

“Did you mean it?”

“Mean what?”

“What you said to Ruby, that you’ll be here.”

Before Lena can respond, Ruby bounces back into the room. She begins chattering about school and football practice while Sam dishes up dinner. Ruby keeps up a stream of conversation with only occasional prompting from the adults. After dinner, Lena volunteers to do the dishes while Sam pours two glasses of wine and follows Ruby to the living room. Ruby begins to play then. She has improved quite a bit at the piano since Lena last heard her play. The soft tunes carry Lena through the dishes until she can relieve Sam of one of the glasses and sits next to the young pianist on the bench. Sam types away at her computer while the two musicians play.

“Want to hear something I've been working on?” Lena asks eventually, the girl nods enthusiastically.

“Keep it appropriate,” Sam chimes in from the couch.

“I promise, no cursing,” Lena says as her fingers begin the intro.

I don't set alarms

Lately I don't set alarms

But that's because of the ringing that's happening inside my head

Inside my head

Yeah yeah

It keeps me safe from harm

At least I tell myself I'm safe from harm

But really it's probably filling my dreams with dread

So I get out of bed

Yeah yeah

Yes I'm neurotic I'm obsessed and I know it

I can't take vacations and the brain won't, believe me, I'm on one

Hawaii under warm sun

Yeah yeah

I think I lost my mind

Don't worry about me

Happens all the time

In the morning I'll be better

Sing it again

I think I lost my mind

But don't worry about me

Happens all the time

In the morning I'll be better

Things are only getting better

Sing it again

“Why did you stop?” Ruby asks.

“That’s all I have. I wrote it this morning.”

“Is it about what you’re working through?”

“Yeah, it is Rubes. But I’m trying to get better. Music really helps.”

“That’s good.” Ruby yawns.

“Alright, my little pianist, time for bed. Give me a kiss then go brush your teeth.”

“But...I’m...not…tired.” Ruby manages through another yawn.

“Go.” Sam points to the stairs. Ruby pauses just to place a kiss on her mother's cheek and calling goodnight to the two women, who respond in kind. Lena takes about a more classical piece on the piano and plays for a few minutes before Sam sits next to her. Lena continues until she hears Ruby shut her door before letting the final notes settle in the air.

“I need you to mean it, Lena. If you are going to be in my life, in Ruby’s life. Then be here. Sober. I am a single mom with a job that requires a lot of travel. Most of Ruby’s stability comes from the people I allow in her life. I love you, Lena. I thought we were growing closer like you could be the sister I never had. I want you in my life, in Ruby’s life. But not how you have been. Not drunk or high, not regularly seeing questionable people. So, did you mean it?”

Lena slowly closes the lid of the piano. She takes a deep breath.

“Yes. I mean it. I am sorry I haven't been here. I am sorry for how I have handled things. But now with Veronica gone, my head is clear. I’m going to change my number and get a new phone. I’m cutting all ties with her. When the album is done I want to take a break from this life. No more tours, no more signings. I just want to figure out who I am now.” Sam pulls Lena into a hug.

“Okay. I can make that happen. We have to get you into an actual house and not a hotel room, you need a home.”

“I’ve never had a home, not really.”

“Then it’s time to change that.”

January 26th, 2018

Lena was still in the studio, she couldn’t remember the last time she left it actually. Lena had been writing and recording, then crumpling the music and throwing it on the floor in frustration. Her headache had gone from dull to throbbing, she needed to eat. She dialed Jess’ number.

“Hello, Miss Luthor.”

“Jess, I’ve told you, call me Lena. Can you send some food to the studio?”

“Its already on its way. I knew you wouldn’t have eaten since I sent food this morning.”

“What would I do without you?”

“Apparently starve to death. Goodbye, Miss Luthor.”

“Goodbye, Jess.”

As if on cue, an intern for the studio knocks on the door with Lena’s food. She gratefully accepts it for digging in and playing back the song she was working on. It was nearing eleven and so she was almost alone in the building except for those few interns doing work for the various bigwigs and the security staff.

t's 5 a.m. and I'm on the radio

I'm supposed to call you, but I don't know what to say at all

And there's this girl, she wants me to take her home

She don't really love me though, I'm just on the radio

And I'm not gonna tell you that I'm over it

'Cause I think about it every night I'm not sober, and

I know I keep these feelings to myself

Like I don't need nobody else

But you're not the only one on my mind

If I'm being honest

You said I should be honest

So I'm being honest

“Well if that isn’t a depressing song.”

Lena jumps and spins around in her chair. How Veronica alway looks like a snake about to spring always bothered Lena. She stood casually in the doorway, wearing a tight dress like most people wear jeans. She smirks at the flicker of surprise on Lena’s face.

“Veronica, what brings you here?”

“Seems someone has disconnected their number and I couldn’t call them to ask if they wanted to meet for drinks so I can discuss my business in National City.”

“What a shame.” Lena purposely turns back to her dinner and the sheet music in front of her. She hears Veronica walk closer, she gracefully sits in the chair next to her, nose wrinkling at the fast food Lena was eating.

“Yes, it seems there is a new player in my fight clubs. An undefeated woman who is making me a lot of money. She is going by the name Andromeda.” “Fascinating,” Lena says, trying not to look at the woman. She lets the silence fill the room.

“Why Lena?”

“Because I’m done. Done with you, done with us, and done with the drugs.”

“Lena we both know that’s not true.”

“It is. Which is why I am removing the temptation. Now please leave Veronica.”

“Very well. You know how you can reach me if you change your mind.” Veronica stands and makes her way to the door.

“Oh, excuse me,” Veronica says as she leaves. Lena turns in the chair, preparing to tell whoever it is to leave her alone. The protest dies in her throat as she takes in the tall redhead dressed in all black. An FBI badge glittering at her hip.

“Alex,” Lena whispers as she sees Veronica’s smirk over the Agent’s shoulder before she disappears down the hall. Lena clears her throat and stands, suddenly aware of the fact she hasn’t left this room in two days and hasn’t showered in four.

“Agent Danvers, this is quite unexpected. What is the FBI doing in London?”

Alex stares at Lena, fire burning in her eyes. Her features were sharp and hard, her body coiled like a spring. A lioness about to spring. Her glare makes Lena fidget.

“Miss Luthor, I have been sent to see if you would return to the United States for questioning and your brother’s trial.”

“Straight to the point I see.” Lena sits down in her chair again.

“Do you have any papers of extradition or anything that would force me to go with you?”

“No, Miss Luthor. It was to be on your goodwill.”

“Then I will pass Agent. I have too much to do.”

“Too many people to do too, I see,” Alex says icily. Lena stares at the Agent.

“Say what you actually came here to say, Agent Danvers. I have had very little sleep and have little patience for word games.”

Alex turns and shuts the door behind her before taking a deep breath. The Agent’s shoulders bunch with the tension of the words she carries. This was not a confrontation Lena was ready for, but here it was.

“I didn’t have to be the one to come. But I did. I had to see your face. I had to… I had to…” Alex drifts off and rests her forehead against the door.

“You had to tell me off. Had to protect your little sister from the Evil Luthor that broke her heart.”

“Did you even see her? Did you wonder why she looked the way she did?”

“I saw her.” Lena closes her eyes, trying to forget the bruised and swollen face, the sling on one of Kara’s arms. Then the steal in her eyes as they turned cold and filled with hate.

“It’s why she couldn’t come. She was unconscious for three days.”

“And how did she get hurt?” Lena asks.

“Its… I… I can’t tell you.”

“And why the fuck not.” Lena turns back to face the Agent. She seems to have shrunk back against the door.

“Because it’s not my place.”

“But you know. You know this big secret Kara has kept from me. The one that caused her to cancel and miss flights. The one that has left me unwanted and unloved by the one person I let in and gave everything I had to. That secret.” Lena stands back up in anger.

“Yes, that one. But it’s as important to her as you are and you should really give her a chance.”

“Give her a chance! Give her a chance! I gave her a fucking chance Alex! SIx missed flights. Twenty-seven missed phone calls.” That silences the agent.

“And then you slept with the woman who broke your heart. The one person you knew would make her hate you just hours after you broke up with her over a fucking voicemail.”

“Veronica didn’t break my heart,” Lena says softly. “She chipped it a bit. But Kara broke it, shattered it on the ground.”

The two stare at each other. The Agent brooding, wanting so badly to defend her sister's actions, but knowing she had no leg to stand on.

“I should go.”

“Yes, you should.”

“Don’t come back. She doesn't need to go through this again.”

“I wasn’t planning on going through hell again myself.”

“Have a good evening, Miss Luthor.”

“Goodbye, Alex. I’d say tell everyone I said ‘hi’ but I suspect no one knows you are here.” Alex just glares icily before leaving, shutting the door just a little too hard. Lena turns back to work, pushing the food aside because she had lost her appetite.

February, 13th, 2018

After weeks in the studio, the album was released. Lena abandoned her hotel room in favor of sleeping on the couch in the studio. On the occasion Sam did force her to leave, Lena would sleep in the guest bedroom in her house. Somehow her stuff made it there also, Lena suspected Jess. After the release, Lena slept for two days straight at Sam’s. Then she watched as news articles appeared, picking apart her songs and the titles. Sam made her food and took her phone, saying to ignore it and let the PR team handle everything. Lena was annoyed at first but was relieved to disappear for a bit. She helped Ruby with her piano more and actually curled up with a book to read.

“So, is this the start of your break?” Sam settles down with Lena on the couch, setting two steaming cups of tea on the coffee table. Lena closes the book and pulls her knees to her chest to make room for her friend.

“Unofficially, yeah I think so. You don’t mind, do you? I mean I can go back to the hotel if I’ve overstayed my welcome.”

“Oh, Lena, dear, no. We love having you here.” Lena relaxes back into the couch at her friend's words, relieved to not leave the safe warmth of an actual home.

“I’ll have Jess start a house search for me. It won’t be long.”

Sam picks up her mug and stares into the steaming liquid. Lena waits for her to say whatever's on her mind but after a few minutes, Lena returns to her book. She’s almost finished the chapter when Sam takes a deep breath.

“You could always just stay here.” Lena’s eyes snap up but Sam avoids meeting her gaze.

“What?” Finally, Sam looks at her.

“I mean, look, your stuff is already here, Ruby loves having you around, we don’t actually need a guest room since I haven’t spoken to my mother in ten years…” Sam trails off and Lena smiles.

“Sam, I would love to.”

Sam smiles and sets her tea down. She flops on top of Lean and pulls a blanket down on top of them so they can settle down for a lazy Sunday. Lena runs her fingers through Sam’s hair and sam flicks on reruns of Friends.

“Your the closest thing I have to family, Sam. I don’t know where I would be if you didn’t come into my life. Thank you for being my friend. For being my sister.”

“Family isn’t just blood. You can choose your family. And I choose you, you and all your baggage.”

“I have a lot of baggage,” Lena says. Sam squeezes her arms around her waist.

“It’s easier to carry with two people.”

Tears escape Lena’s eyes and she presses a grateful kiss to Sam’s forehead. Lena settles back down and listens as the cloudy day gives way to rain outside the house. She hears the soft notes of Ruby playing on the electric keyboard upstairs in her room that Lena had gifted her. The show drones on and Lena feels the occasional soft chuckles emit from Sam. A sense of peace settles of Lena that she hasn’t felt in a long time.

They stay like that for a couple of hours, Lena drifting in and out of consciousness as her body recovers from the strain she put on it in the past few weeks. Her fingers still throb from playing so much. A knock on the door rouses Lena and Sam groans before pushing off the couch. The cold from the room immediately finds Lena as Sam’s body heat leaves her. Sam answered the front door and after a muffled conversation she calls out.

“Hey, Lena! It’s for you.”

More confused than ever, Lena walks to the front door. The only person who knew she was here, outside of this house, was Jess. Lena rounds the corner to come face to face with two portly men in expensive suits. Lena recognizes them. They are Luthor Lawyers. Two of the many well paid lawyers to protect the Luthor name.

“Miss. Luthor.” The taller man greets.

“Yes?”

“We have been sent to give you copies of these contracts and to request your presence at the Luthor Law office here in London so that the assets may be officially signed over to you.” the man holds out a suitcase.

“Excuse me?” Lena doesn't understand.

“The assets ma’am. That your brother left to you in case of his death and or arrest. Since he has been arrested, then they are left to you.”

“What?”

“Ma’am it is all in the contracts. Please read them then call our office so we can complete the paperwork. We must go.” The man sets down the still outstretched briefcase before he and his partner turn and pop their umbrellas open to ward off the freezing rain as they made their way back to a waiting car.

February 16th, 2018

“What am I going to do Jess? They left the whole company to me?”

Lena asks her personal assistant after the lawyer left. Before her brother was arrested he transferred all his shares into Lena's name and her mother was God knows where running a criminal organization. She didn't have any controlling shares of the company, Lena had sixty-four percent now that she had her brothers fifty-three. She had only kept such a small amount to make sure she had at least a small income if she ever decided to quit singing. Now, now she had more of her family’s assets than she ever wanted. Jess bites her lip and looks at Lena.

“I have a master's in business,” Jess states after a long pause, taking Lena aback.

“What?” Lena asks, unbelieving.

“I was the assistant manager at Green Diamond. But when I met you, I knew you needed someone on your side. Someone to protect you from yourself. So I took the job as your personal assistant.” Lena is speechless. Jess chose to be here. Jess wasn't here for the money Lena kept convincing herself Jess needed. Lena bursts into tears and Jess tentatively reaches out and touches her shoulder. Lena awkwardly pulls her into a hug while sitting in the chairs. This is a rare moment of emotion that Lena never let's show with her assistant.

“I’ll go. I'll be your acting CFO until you decide what you want to do.” Lena tightens her arms around the slim woman until her tears subside.

“You would really do that for me?”

“Lena, I would. But you have to promise me. Once you have all this figured out, you will go find Kara.” Lena shakes her head.

“I can't. I can't. I am no good for her.”

“Shouldn't that be her choice?”

“Jess, I slept with someone else, mere hours after breaking up with her in a voicemail. She found me with Veronica still in my bed. She will never forgive me. Not after her last boyfriend cheated on her.”

“How will you know if you don't try?”

“Can I promise to think about it? It's all too much right now.”

“I'll drop it for now. But I promised you I wouldn't let you screw this up and I'll be damned if I don't make you try to fix it.” Lena nods and pulls Jess in for one more hug.

They part ways as Lena gets in her car to head home. Home. Such a foreign word for Lena but it was nice. It was like she was no longer floating on an empty sea. She had an island to return to at the end of the day. Despite this heaviness waving her down, it lessened the moment she stepped in the door. She stood there a moment in the entrance. She could hear Sam in the kitchen making dinner. The warm smells of a roasting chicken and sauteing vegetables as they sizzled in the pan. Soft piano sounds wafted from the second floor as Ruby practiced. Pictures of the mother and daughter lined the walls. There were one or two that included Lena. Despite still being fairly new to this house, Sam had made this place feel like home. Lena felt at home. She made her way down the hall and to the kitchen. Same sang along to music on her phone while she stirred the vegetables.

“Hey,” Lena says softly. Sam turns to her and immediately sets down the spoon to wrap her in a hug.

“Hey, what happened?”

“Well I now own the majority of LexCorp, more houses and condos than I will ever need, and I am the CEO to a company I haven't set foot in since my father died.”

“Oh, wow. So you have to leave?”

“I don’t know. I just… I don’t know. Jess is going to work as CFO until I decide. I just need time. After everything, I need time to figure out what I want.” Lena’s words unconsciously echo the words of Kara’s message that she has listened to more than she can count.

“Okay. Dinner will be ready in fifteen minutes. Go change and we will eat.”

Lena nods. She will feel better out of the dress she wore to the lawyer's office. It took hours to get through all the paperwork and she was so tired. Food and sleep would help.

February 22nd, 2018

It was weird for Lena to back in Metropolis. Jess had been putting out fires like a madwoman. Jess. She was a blessing for the millionth time in Lena's life. Jess had swooped into LexCorp and immediately began shutting down any questionable operation. From the updates Lena received, they were spread far and wide. Also very well hidden. It was amazing that Clark Kent was able to find enough to expose her brother. Although it wasn't far of a leap with their father being who he was. Then also figuring out that Lillian was running the criminal organization that Lex was funding. The one slowly taking over National City and creeping out to the rest of the world like a cancer. A cancer that Power Girl had been fighting with a new vengeance as far as Lena could tell. Lillian had contacted Lena to try and get her to continue funding Cadmus but Lena bluntly refused. Resulting in threats that Lena knew were anything but idle but choose to ignore for the most part. Lena did hire on extra security for herself and purchase a high-end security system.

But none of that mattered here. The elegant showroom packed with people draped in their most expensive clothes trying to impress each other. Lena was smiling and shaking hands with people as she introduced herself. Jess had asked her to be here. It was a fundraising art exhibit. Wealthy could buy art from rising artists and outbid each other in a silent auction. The auction money went to something that Lena didn't pay much attention to. Lena wouldn't have come anywhere near an art exhibit if it weren't for Jess. It was just too hard. Reminded her too much of Kara to be near any form of art like this. Jess had begged her to come, to help rebuild the Luthor name and company.

Lena couldn’t say no to Jess, not after everything she had done for her. So Lena flew to Metropolis, put on a fancy and expensive dress, and shook hands with anyone Jess directed her towards.

“Lena Luthor.” That wasn't a voice Lena expected to hear in Metropolis. She turned to come face to face with the Queen of all Media.

“Cat Grant. I didn't expect to see you here.”

“I’m here in place of an artist who couldn't make it.”

“And who might that be?”

“I think you will know once you see their section,” Cat said as she motioned for Lena to follow, making her way to a corner of the Gallery.

Lena stopped dead in her tracks when she saw it. A dark-haired woman, sitting under a tree looking away from the perspective, book open in her lap and a smile playing at the corner of her lips. It was beautiful. It was full of love. It was her. Lena stared at her own likeness, at how Kara saw her. It was the day in the park after Lena surprised Kara in National City. The feelings of happiness and soft beauty were repeated in several other paintings as well. Lena was distinguishable in all of them by the dark hair or the barley visible green eyes. The others though, those were pained. Tainted by much less cheery colors and harsh brush strokes. Love still seeped through every line. Anger and heartbreak bubbled under the surface, just barely tangible through the overall feeling of love. Some were hued in fiery reds and oranges, others saddened by deep blues and stormy greys. Lena was sure her stomach dropped through the floor as her heart stopped beating.

“She was too busy to come, but I brought these for sale along with her original painting for the CatCo cover signed by herself and I for the auction. I believe it will do fairly well.” Lena stopped listening.

Unconsciously, Lena is drawn to one of the paintings, it's her, but it's not her. The figure is half turned away, tangled in bedsheets, hair a mess. Beautiful. Perfect. The whole canvas is bright and soft. The one next to it is a very stark contrast. Two embracing figures on the street, one with black hair, the other with brown. The colors were all muted with reds and blacks and browns. The sky a dark gray. Every stroke was harsh and sloppy but the meaning was clear to Lena. Kara was in so much pain over finding her with Veronica. The same Veronica that broke Lena’s heart. Lena snatches back the hand that she suddenly becomes aware that she has reached up and almost touched the painting. Lena’s chest aches. The entirety of their relationship was laid out in these canvases, all from Kara’s perspective. Shouldn’t that be her choice? Why was Jess so damn wise. Lena had taken all this from Kara. She had taken what she wanted, what she feared, without even thinking about Kara. She looks at Cat Grant watching her closely.

“I have to go,” Lena says softly, hot tears threatening to spill out of her eyes.

“Go.” Is all Cat says, once Lena escapes the crowd she calls her driver and instructs him to go to the airport.

“Alana, get me a plane ticket on the first flight to National City. No, I don’t want the family jet, it will take too long to prepare. Just get me there.” Lena says into the phone, not letting the assistant speak, just answering the question she knew was coming and hanging up. The new assistant tended to ask too many questions and wasn’t as good as Jess.

The flight takes too long. It's too much time to think and agonize over what she needs to say to Kara. Really all she knows is she needs Kara. To calm herself and to organize her thoughts, Lena flags down a flight attendant and asks for pen and paper. Writing was always a way for Lena to sort out her feelings. By the time the wheels touch down, Lena has lyrics to at least two more songs and half the compositions done that she stuffs in her clutch for later. She hadn't even changed out of the uncomfortable dress from the Gala. As soon as she reached the airport she had to get on her flight, Alana paying the airline with Lena’s credit card to hold the doors open for Lena.

Lena looks for the driver who Alana promised would be waiting. She spies him with her name plastered on a sign and follows him to the curb where the sleek black car is waiting. The man holds the door open and Lena quickly slides in. She jumps when she realizes she is not alone. Across from her are the cold, hard eyes of Lillian Luthor.

“Hello dear. Thank you so kindly for coming to me. I was afraid I was going to have to send someone to Metropolis.” Lena scrambles for the door handle but it doesn't budge.

“What do you want, mother?” Lena says icily, trying to calm herself.

“Why, what I always wanted. For my daughter to join the family business.” Lena scoffs.

“I was never your daughter, you made it quite clear I was never good enough for this family.”

“I disapproved with some of your choices, that’s what most mothers do.”

“Again, why are you here?”

Lillian sighs in exasperation.

“Cadmus must have the support from LexCorp or it will never reach its goal.”

“What goal is that mother?”

“To bring order to the people. Our government is failing us. It is time we started over. It is time for a much more structured society. To make America great again. Cadmus can make that happen. We have already secured most of National City from gangs. We protect those who want us to.”

“Don’t bullshit me, mother. I have read the news. Violence spikes in every area you ‘protect’ until suddenly it stops. But some of those areas are near bankrupt because they are paying you protection fees to be protected from the very people they are paying. I will not be a part of this. Lex left me the company and I’ll be damned if it continues down this route.”

“I was afraid you would say that. Very well, we will get our money another way. But you, you, I can use to take out a very annoying vigilante.”

Before Lena can retort, Lillian holds something up while taking a handkerchief to cover her mouth. An aerosol sprays in Lena’s face and she barely has time to think, shit, before blackness overtakes her.

#supergirl #supercorp #kara danvers #lena luthor #singer #Vigilante #au #WTFU #fanfiction

6 notes · View notes

wintersqueenmab · 6 years ago

Note

Silly, do all the questions you definitely deleted. All of them.

Well, since you asked so nicely, sure. Under the readmore to save dashboard space.

1. how tall are you?

I’m 5 foot, 9 inches tall, or 175 centimeters for those of you using metric units.

2. what is your body type?

Softer than I’d like, but otherwise pretty standard.

3. what is your favorite part about your body?

I do like the color of my eyes, and I think my hands are pretty nice.

4. is your current hair color your natural hair color?

Partially, yes. However, the top of my head is currently a cotton candy riot, so not that part.

5. are you more outgoing or more shy?

I like to pull off the shy -> outgoing combo for maximum damage.

6. are you more femme or butch?

Being AMAB, I’m pretty sure I’m automatically on the butch side. Not where I’d like to keep it, though.

7. are you tol or smol?

I don’t think 5′9″ is very tall, or very small. The middle it is, then.

8. wine mom or vodka aunt?

Definitely vodka aunt.

9. weird habit?

Does eating popcorn seeds count?

10. favorite meme?

I’m a sucker for bass boosting in the middle of otherwise normal videos.

11. do you sing in the shower?

Ironically, that’s one of the only places I don’t sing.

12. ever used a bow and arrow?

A couple times, but never in any seriousness.

13. are/were you a theatre kid?

Not currently, but I definitely was in high school. Would love to go back.

14. have you ever seen a broadway musical?

Nah, son. Shit’s expensive.

15. do you think musicals are cheesy?

Yes, but in a good way.

16. have you ever been a part of a protest or a march?

Sadly not.

17. favorite Cards Against Humanity Card?

“Pac-Man uncontrollably guzzling cum.”

18. last movie you watched?

Spider-Man: Far from Home.

19. behind the camera or in front of it?

In front, definitely. Doing theater has shown me that I love being in the spotlight.

20. favorite tv show?

Toss up between Steven Universe and A:tLA.

21. meaning behind your url

Comes from an old username I had a long time ago. I still use Rydyr for most things online.

22. reason you joined tumblr

Kingdom Hearts fandom, then almost immediately comboed into Homestuck.

23. who’s your closest tumblr friend?

Probably samysticeti.

24. what’s something most people love that you hate?

Lord of the Rings.

25. have you ever taken narcotics?

Nope.

26. have you had sex?

Sure have.

27. have you ever gotten caught sneaking out or doing anything bad?

Yes, several times.

28. worst/funniest lie you’ve ever told?

I once told my dad that my brother had destroyed my writing journal to get out of writing in it for the day. It worked!

29. describe your passion without mentioning it.

Getting to know systems and the best way to exploit them is pretty dang neat.

30. describe your best friend.

Always there for me, even when I don’t want them there. But they know better.

31. give us one thing about you that no one knows.

Now, what makes you think you’ve earned that?

32. how do you feel right now?

Slightly irritated at the amount of formatting work I had to do for this (a lot), but otherwise good. Go listen to Starlight Brigade if you haven’t heard it, it’s fantastic.

33. what is your biggest fear?

Not becoming who I want to be.

34. what’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it?

Glory, by Bastille.

35. what is the best decision you’ve made in your life so far?

Being more outgoing has, in general, done a ton for me.

36. have you ever tried your hardest and then been disappointed in the end?

Yeah. That’s life, though.

37. something you fantasize about.

Financial stability, a harem of cuties, being in a harem of cuties. Lots of unattainable goals.

38. last time you cried and why

A while ago, probably over past relationships.

39. what was the last thing that made you laugh?

A dumb play my friend made in a League of Legends match.

40. do you really, truly miss someone right now?

Always.

41. who do you feel most comfortable talking to about anything?

Honestly, nobody. Without sounding like an edgelord, there’s a lot I don’t want people to know because they’d just worry.

42. the last time you felt broken?

Last night.

43. are you starting to realize anything

Many, many things.

44. are you more dominant or more submissive

Depends on the context, obviously. I try to be assertive in everyday life, but I think I’m more submissive in the bedroom.

45. i’ll only date you if _____. (fill in the blank)

I’ll only date you if you treat me with respect.

46. do you prefer to date people the same age as you, younger, or older?

I don’t have any real preference, but I think I’d feel weird if I dated someone significantly younger than myself.

47. describe the person you’re in love with/have a crush on in great detail.

That’s not fair; I have too many crushes to single anyone out. One of the pros/cons of being poly.

48. do you have any kinks?

Look, there’s a whole ass list here. Gotta get more specific.

49. first thing you notice in a person?

Probably their voice if I’m actually interacting with them. If I’m seeing them from afar, it’s their hair.

50. how can someone win your heart?

By being sweet to me.

51. been rejected by a crush?

Of course.

52. have you ever had feelings for someone who didn’t have them back?

Tons of times.

53. would you have sex with the last person you text messaged?

If they were down, yeah.

54. is trust a big issue for you?

Like, do I have trust issues? Not really. Is it a big thing for me in a relationship? Once we hit a certain point, yeah.

55. did you hang out with the person you like recently?

A couple of them, yeah. Not nearly enough, though.

56. is confidence cute?

It’s fucking sexy.

57. what would you say if the person you love/like kissed another girl/boy?

Good for them! They’re living their best life. Fuck jealousy.

58. would you be able to date someone who doesn’t make you laugh?

Probably not. I love being with funny people.

59. does the person you have feelings for right now know you do?

At least one of them does. I try not to make it a big deal.

60. ever embarrass yourself in front of a crush?

I’ve embarrassed myself in front of my partners more times than I care to count.

61. do you want to get married

Not unless the government gets really cool about a lot of things really quickly.

62. worst thing you’ve ever done?

Lied to people that trusted me.

63. three things that turn you on.

Confidence, a nice pair of legs, and the ability to take charge.

64. who do you hate?

Nazis.

65. favorite term of endearment?

Stardust.

66. who was your celebrity/fictional gay awakening?

Probably some fucking Homestuck characters, I dunno.

67. intimidating girls or kind girls?

Both. Both? Both are great.

68. what do you look for in a possible partner?

We gotta like the same stuff. Also want to get freaky in the bedroom the same way.

69. do you tend to like more masculine, feminine, or androgynous girls?

Sixty-nine, eyyyyy. Uh, all of them.

70. are you good at flirting?

Only when I’m unaware I’m doing it.

71. who was the first person you came out to?

My friends in high school.

72. do you have any friends who are wlw?

Yes! Several.

73. is your crush wlw?

Some of them are, yeah.

74. last person to make you reconsider your sexuality?

Pretty much literally any attractive person. I think about it a lot.

75. write a short love poem to your crush/self?

I wish you’d know me

As I’ve gotten to know you

See me as I am

76. do you fall in love easily?

Love, no. Infatuation? Almost pathetically so, yeah.

77. is there something that happened in your past that you hate talking about?

Boy fucking howdy, yeah.

78. are you good at hiding your feelings?

Yep.

79. are you a forgiving person?

Extremely. I just wanna be friends with everyone.

80. what is your “type?”

Kind people that can slam me against a wall and make me thank them for the privilege.

81. fall asleep in her arms or rub her back until she falls asleep in yours?

B O T H

82. tall girls or short girls?

I’d love to be with a girl that just fucking dwarfs me in height.

83. hugs or kisses?

I fucking love hugs. And I’ve had strangers tell me I give great hugs, so I wanna share that with others.

84. twirl her around or get twirled?

Fuck, dude, I’d sure love to get twirled.

85. tummy kisses or thigh kisses?

A tummy kiss that transitions into a big fucking tummy raspberry.

86. hairline kisses or neck kisses?

Neck kisses, hell fucking yeah.

87. play with her hair or stroke her tummy?

Hair, absolutely. Too many people are ticklish.

88. making out or soft kisses?

I don’t understand why I need to choose here. They’re both great in different situations.

89. hugs around the neck or hugs around the waist?

Waist! Easier to pick people up that way.

90. how confident are you in your sexuality?

I’m pretty confident in my ability to be attracted to nearly anyone that’s nice to me.

91. when you like someone do you blush or get butterflies in your stomach?

Butterflies, with blushing only when I get embarrassed around them.

92. have you ever liked a friend as more than a friend? did you tell them?

Yes and yes.

93. how old were you when you realized you were into girls?

Well, being AMAB, this was pretty early. It took me a lot longer to accept being into guys.

94. most embarrassing thing you’ve done in front of a cute girl?

There was this one time I just nerded out about MtG for like ten minutes, and she was just sitting nearby. When I saw her, I almost died.

95. do you have a favorite lesbian ship? is it canon?

Rosemary from Homestuck. It’s so good.

96. what is the most aggravating thing someone has said to you about your sexuality?

“Are you sure you can’t just pick one person and stick to them?”

97. when was the last time a girl made your heart flutter?

Like six hours ago.

98. what is love to you?

Love is caring about another person more than yourself. It’s wanting the best for them at all times. It’s being happy when they’re happy and being sad when they’re sad. It’s seeing the universe in their smile, and glimpsing eternity in how they make you feel.

99. ask me anything.

Well, this sure is awkward. If you read all this, congrats! You know more about me now than my own parents probably do. Have a great night, everyone.

#me #ask meme #99 questions #this was fun to do

2 notes · View notes

brokemultidotexe · 7 years ago

Text

Unexpected Pt.22

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Summary: You never expected your trip to Seoul to end up like it does. You didn’t expect to step off the plane and have coffee pour down your shirt. You also didn’t expect the guy to offer to show you around the city. You notice things about him that don’t quite make sense, like how he shows interest but will only see you when he has the time which is at random hours during the day and night. Who knew your only friend in Seoul would turn out to be an international star and just how difficult things could get.

Word Count: 3k

Warning: None

Genre: Romance/Friendship

Part: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 6.5 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 10.5 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 14.5 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 22.5 [final]

Song Suggestion: Let Go - BTS (thanks to @mrsbluesmize226 for the suggestion)

Your stomach had been in a knot since yesterday. Telling JK no hadn’t been easy and you weren’t quite sure what to expect but you hadn’t expected him to take you home and refuse to answer you or take your calls for two days. You’d ended up crying yourself to sleep the night before and figured you were done trying to be understanding and that you were going to go over there and force him to talk to you. You didn’t want him to think it was because you didn’t want him, because that wasn’t the case at all. You figured your best bet was to text Jimin and see if he could tell you when they’d be home. Jimin sent you back a timeframe of when they would be at the apartment and you decided to drive over and put this issue to rest between the two of you. You were terrified of him hating you and if he did hate you then you at least wanted him to tell you that to your face because the not knowing was killing you and you now knew how he felt when you said you had needed time after finding out he was an idol.

You text Jimin when your car got through the gate with the temporary password he gave you. He said that he’d meet you down in the lobby. Your heart was hammering in your chest with every step and you felt extremely queasy. You saw him standing against the wall scrolling through his phone. You stepped inside and greeted him softly. Jimin looked confused but sympathetic as well.

“What happened between you two?” was the first question that came out of his mouth.

You sighed, “He told me that Bang said I could come on tour with you guys when you do the American leg of your tour and I told him no.” Jimin seemed shocked at your answer which confused you.

“Why? What is JK saying?”

“Nothing. He literally shows up and does the work he has to and then goes home and goes to his room. We figured something happened with you two but didn’t want to get involved and seeing how you look right now tells me that it had to do with both of you because you look just as bad as he does….no offense.” He let a second pass before he pulled you in for a hug before letting. “But this explains a lot.”

After talking briefly about why you said no Jimin took you with him and headed back upstairs to their apartment. Jimin hated your decision but he also understood that it was your decision to make and that JK was probably hurt because your first instinct wasn’t to drop everything and go with him. By the time you reached their door, you felt like you were going to be sick. You stopped abruptly, “I don’t think I can do this. I don’t want to hear that he hates me Jimin.”

He looked at you like you had three heads, “Hate you? Why would you think that he hates you? Y/N Jungkook loves you and I honestly can’t think of a single thing you could ever do that would make him hate you.” He put his hand on your shoulder, “Just talk to him, if you need me I’ll be in the living room so you guys can have privacy. I text the other members and told them to not come home until I text them so you guys can have more privacy instead of having six other people in the apartment.”

“Thanks, Jimin.” He nodded and opened the door. He pointed down the hall towards JK’s room and you nodded your head while Jimin put his keys down and walked into the living room. You took a deep breath and shook out your hands as your nerves were taking over and causing you to fidget. His door was shut and you could hear music coming from behind the door. It felt like it took forever for you to get your courage up to knock on his door but eventually your knuckles rapped against the wood and slowly opened the door and looked around it seeing him sitting in his computer chair messing with his phone.

“Ah, so your phone does work.” It probably wasn’t the best way to start the conversation since it was very passive aggressive but you felt frustrated. His head popped up and he looked at you but didn’t say anything. “Are you really going to ignore me? You didn’t even let me explain JK.” You leaned against the door frame too nervous to get any closer.

He tossed his phone onto his desk and leaned back in his chair, “Explain? Okay then explain to me how you could tell me almost every day how awful it was going to be to be without me and then tell me no when a solution arises to that very problem. I’ve been trying to figure it out Y/N but I can’t.”

“It IS going to be awful without you and I wish that you weren’t going but I’ve told you from the very beginning that I would eventually have to go back to America. JK, I’ve literally depleted my life savings staying out here as long as I did because I only expected to stay for a month yet here I am five months later all because I wasn’t ready to leave you. My whole life is back in America and coming to this decision wasn’t easy, so please stop thinking that.”

“you didn’t even take a chance to think about possibly going.”

“You can’t expect me to drop my life for you JK. I’ve been trying to figure out for months what I was going to do and once you got your departure day finally scheduled I had already planned on buying a plane ticket home. I’ve already paid last months rent and told the landlord to just keep it furnished and she can rent it out that way.”

It looked like he’d been punched in the stomach because it was like all the air had left his lungs, “So you decided months ago that you were going home. Is that why you refused to have this conversation with me when I would actually try?” he looked at you for answers. “Well, it seems like you already had everything figured out and ready to go. I’m not even sure why I put off asking you to come for days because I was nervous, because it wouldn’t have made a difference anyway.”

“Stop.” You glared at him. “Don’t act like this has been such a simple decision for me JK. It was one of the hardest decisions I’ve ever had to make but what do you expect me to do?”

“Come on tour with me!”

“That’s only for a month that you’ll be in America, do you really expect me to wait around in Korea for the months before and after that? You aren’t the center of my life JK!” You were starting to get frustrated with him. His inability to see it any other way but the way he wanted drove you crazy.

“Do you love me?” the question startled you.

“JK you can’t just—”

“Do you love me, yes or no?” he cut you off and his stare was intense waiting for your answer.

“JK this isn’t going to make it better.”

“Y/N...just answer the damn question.” He ran his fingers through his hair in frustration.

“You know I do.” You were barely able to get the words out. Admitting it out loud while in a tense discussion with him was not the way you wanted to discuss how you felt about him out loud for the first time in detail.

“Then why won’t you even try?”

“A multitude of reasons, the fact that I would still have to pay for my apartment in Seoul if I did—”

“I’ll pay the rent.”

“Hell no.” You looked at him like he was crazy, “I’m not letting you pay for a single thing.”

“Are you fucking joking?”

“You can’t just buy your way into me coming on tour with you Jungkook!”

“Oh, so we’re going full name now?”

You tugged at the roots of your hair in frustration. “Do you have any idea how immature you’re being right now?”

“I’m immature? At least I’m willing to fight for something I want instead of running from it with a lame fucking excuse of going back to America. You’ve told me you love it here and that you’d love to live here but when the time comes to actually get serious about something you run the first chance you get. Just like when you found out about me being an idol, but I’m the one that’s immature? Right…” At this point, JK’s voice had gone from firm to yelling.

The door opened but you barely even noticed, “Jungkook you need to go for a walk.”

“Hyung this doesn’t concern you.” JK didn’t take his eyes off you as his chest heaved with pent-up emotion. Neither of you looking at Jimin who had entered the room.

“Jungkook go for a walk or I’ll remove you myself. You need to calm down before you say something you regret.” It was only then that JK’s eyes left yours and the both of you looked at Jimin. You had never seen Jimin’s face look so intimidating. You were used to the soft and joyful Jimin, but that person was gone and in its place was someone who you believed could pretty easily remove Jungkook if it came to it. Your mind was reeling trying to figure out how the hell the two of you got to this point. You had come to try and smooth things over but instead, you had only made things worse. The two of them stood there and stared at each other. Without even glancing back at you your eyes followed JK as he walked out and a few moments later you heard the front door slam.

“Y/N…” you looked at Jimin and he looked worried, “are you okay?” it was only then that you realized that you were shaking. The whole situation had you completely shaken and you felt like you were in your own personal hell and there was no way out. “He doesn’t hate you, you know.”

You gave a pathetic half laugh, “Yeah, I can tell.”

“Hey.” He put his hand on your shoulder getting you to look him in the eyes, “He doesn’t. This is the first time he’s ever let himself fully feel for anyone and while it does make his emotions more intense and can cause things to blow up, it means that there’s nothing in this world that could make him hate you.”

“You sure about that?” your voice quivered unexpectedly and the tiny second of instability in your voice has caused tears to start to pool in your eyes.

Jimin pulled you into a hug, “I’ve never been more sure about anything in my life.”

“I don’t want to lose him Jimin.” You mumbled into his shoulder.

“You won’t Y/N, he’s just not thinking clearly right now. He’ll calm down.” Jimin patted your back and you pulled away and wiped at the over spilled tears. “you guys can talk through this once he calms down and maybe you two can come up with an agreement that you are both happy with. You guys are so good together and I don’t see this tearing you apart.”

It was like your chest had been cracked open and a sob wracked through your chest. You knew loving him would hurt and you knew it couldn’t last but giving him up was too hard and now you were having to live through the heartbreak that you knew was inevitable. “I don’t want to hurt him Jimin, I told him this would happen and we still continued. It’s killing me knowing that I’m hurting him but if I don’t leave this will only hurt worse later on down the road.” You were furiously wiping at the tears that continued to trail down your cheeks. “I don’t want to love him.” Your voice cracked and Jimin quickly swept you into a bone-crushing hug.

The pain in your chest was even worse than you could have imagined when it came to the heartbreak you knew you would endure when you had to leave. It was the most painful thing you’ve ever felt in your life and there was no escaping it. Jimin didn’t try and console you with words instead he let you cry and held you tightly like he knew that if he let you go that you might literally fall apart. After what felt like hours Jimin finally spoke, “You don’t have to make a decision now Y/N.”

You pulled back and shook your head, “My flight leaves tomorrow. You guys leave for tour in three days and I couldn’t handle being in Korea without him so I got an earlier flight.” You could see the exact moment that the realization hit Jimin that there was no meeting in the middle with JK, that you were actually going home and it had already been set in motion. “He’s already so mad at me and he’ll be even madder if he knows I’ve already bought the tickets.”

Jimin drug his hand down his face as he processed the new information. “You have to tell him Y/N.” You nodded your head because you knew what he was saying was true. With everything, the two of you had been through you knew it would be wrong to not tell him and you couldn’t do that to him. You wanted to work things out so you could get that closure from him but you weren’t sure if you could get that anymore. Jimin pulled out his phone and dialed a number before putting it up to his ear. He sighed when he saw JK’s phone buzzing on his desk. “He’ll come back once he cools off, do you want to stay until he does?”

You felt torn but nodded because you really wanted to talk to him before you had to go back and finish packing your bags. You let out a shaky breath, “Is it okay if I just wait in here? I don’t want to be around anyone…no off—”

“It’s okay, I get it. You don’t have to explain. Just come to get me if you need anything, yeah?” You nodded and Jimin gave you a sad smile before leaving you by yourself in JK’s room. You sat in his computer chair and leaned back while taking in his room. All his hobbies littered around his desk, the few things of yours that had accumulated over the week of you staying. You ran your finger over the picture he had of the two of you stuck to his monitor. It was a picture from your date at the arcade and you could see true happiness shining through. Your chest ached with the thought of making him lose that smile.

After a few hours, Jimin came to check on you and he said he had text the other members and they’re trying to find JK and asked if you knew of any places but all the places you mentioned had already been checked. You felt anxious at the thought of not being able to see him again before you left. Maybe he really did hate you for leaving. Jimin left you to yourself and you realized that you needed to do something in case you didn’t get to see him again before you had to leave. It had already been six hours and he hadn’t come back to their apartment and without his phone, there was no way for anyone to find him.

After the eight hour mark, you realized that you couldn’t put off going home any longer so you did the only thing you could think of. You grabbed the nearest blank piece of paper and a pen and wrote down all the things you had wanted to say to him. By the time you finished the letter you were wiping your tears away, you hoped that the letter would help him and that maybe in some way it would give you the closure you needed. If the letter made him believe, even if it was only a little, that it wasn’t his fault then you would gladly go through the pain of losing him because he was the most important thing.

You folded the letter and pinned it under his keyboard where his phone was and left his bedroom. You gave all of the members a hug and apologized for everything that you had caused for them. None of them were mad and all were sad to see you go, but most understood after Jimin explained in a little more detail on what was going on and why. You left and as soon as you closed their front door you felt hollow in your chest. It was like there was so much pain at closing the door to that part of your life that you become numb.

You had just finished packing up and giving the boxes to your landlord so she could ship them home for you as a thank you for leaving all the furnishing in the apartment. Jackson had agreed to take you to the airport for your early flight and the car ride was long and quiet. It was only at the security check that you broke down crying and hugged him. You both promised to keep in touch and seeing him look so crushed over you leaving only added to the mounting pain in your chest. The final goodbye had been the hardest and it took everything you had not to look back as you made it through security.

Once on board the flight you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. Your emotions were unstable and once the plane was in the air the silent tears fell as your heart stayed in Seoul and you headed home.

AN: okay okay okay, pleaseeee don’t hate me. Remember that this is a Part 1 of a series and there WILL be a part 2 coming out at some point in the future. There is going to be a JK POV .5 chapter that will follow this i just don’t know if you want it right after this or not. This chapter was really hard to write because it didn’t come out how i wanted it to but i think it’s because its the last chapter and nothing will seem ‘goog enough’ but i hope that you feel it was good enough and i hope that the .5 chapter gives you a little more closure. Once that is posted i’m going to do a Q&A for anyone that has any questions about the story that maybe didn’t get answered

118 notes · View notes

ebhenah · 6 years ago

Text

I’m With The Band #Fictober18 (Original Fiction)

Day 19

I’m With the Band

Original fiction, Original characters (a continuation of my Fictober Day 7 story: Uncharted, Day 8 story : Anchor, Day 13 story: Soulmates, Day 16 Story: Sunkissed and Day 19 story: Wound Up. This one featuring Spook in her original timeline, before the mission that stranded her alone in the past)

Rated: Teen for language, violence, mentions of drug and alcohol use, and LGBT2SQIA+ themes

Prompt: "Oh please, like this is the worst I have done."

It was the last chance to see her ‘baby’ brother perform before the big mission, so the whole, massive family turned out to see the show. The venue was… not big, and having so many people crowd in to cheer him on pushed it dangerously close to capacity. As much as she loved all the various cousins and parents and aunts and uncles and might-as-well-be-family friends, having sooo many of them kicking around was seriously going to cramp her style when it came to the OTHER plans she had for the night- namely get shit-faced and work her way through as many orgasms with as many partners as not-quite-humanly possible.

Still, while the night was young, she could make the most of the crowd and party with her loved ones. She wasn’t quite THAT sex-crazed… yet. Ever since her parents had insisted that she start weaning herself off the grief suppressors that might interfere with her ability to access and channel the magical abilities that were vital to the ‘big mission’ she’d been coping by self-medicating with hits of adrenaline and endorphins- excitement and sex. Not the most sustainable long term plan, but she didn’t intend it to be long term. It just had to keep her functional until the mission was done.

So, everytime her little brother gave her that nod that meant he was about to play one of her favorites, she grabbed the hand of some new loved one and dragged them out onto the floor. She’d always loved to dance- she’d even taken classes when she was really young. Not that what she was doing now looked anything like tap or ballet. She bounced to the driving beat, a huge smile on her face as she screamed the lyrics out and wove to the music. This time she was dancing with her twin’s lover, a gorgeous charmer with a great smile, better rhythm, and what her favorite aunt called ‘latin hips’. One of her favorite dance partners, actually. They spun her out and back, pulling her tight to their thigh and grinding to the beat with her. It didn’t mean anything, they’d just known each other for years and years- since long before they’d started bedding her brother- and had always had this playfully flirty relationship.

She laughed as she was thrown back, dipped so deeply that her long hair brushed the floor, then snapped up into a tight spin. “He’s staring at your ass,” she yell-whispered into their ear.

“Oh, I am aware,” they answered, an evil little grin spreading over their midnight skin, “wait til we hit the black lights- betcha a fiver he’ll drag me out of here before the end of the song…”

“You got the ink?” she gasped, surprised.

“Ohhhh yeah,” they answered, pulling away enough to give them both a bit more space to maneuver, “I am very, very pleased… and he has no idea…”

“Oh, this will be good,” she laughed. Her twin had a thing for body mods- piercings, tattoos, other markings, cyber implants… he tried to pretend he didn’t but it was more than a little obvious. The inky-black skin of her current dance partner didn’t take well to piercings, and they had a religious objection to cyber. A few months ago, they’d FINALLY found an artist that worked exclusively in photoreactive pigments and they’d been planning this surprise for her twin ever since.

“Heads up,” they said suddenly, “you’ve got an admirer. Blond, Interrycan, blue… dress? Over by your sister.”

“Interrycan?” she echoed, “HOT.” She grabbed their hand and let them snap her out on a spin that gave her a full view of the room- including the tall, lean alien that was 100% checking her out. The ‘dress’ was a traditional Interrycan garment that was essentially a scarf that draped around the back and crossed in the front where the ends were attached to the golden rings that every Interrycan had placed around their clavicles once they reached the age of majority. “SERIOUSLY hot!”

“Go on,” they laughed, “I’m going to drag your brother up here anyway. Just don’t let Mr. PR see you duck into the backroom.”

“Mr. PR is totally shit-faced, in case you haven’t noticed,” she laughed, nodding in the direction of the table that held both of her fathers and her former father-in-law, who had no idea that the younger generation called him ‘Mr. PR’ behind his back- a nickname that originated from her late wife. ”I’m golden!” They both laughed as they spun away from each other, her heading in the direction of the alien that was still making eyes at her, and her dance partner making their way to her twin.

“Hey,” she said to the blond, making her little sister roll her eyes and make herself scarce, “want a drink?”

“I’d love one,” she answered, the syllables a little strange because of the forked tongue that Interrycans possessed. “But I should warn you… I’m on amaora…”

“Amaora? Oooh FUN!” she answered. Amaora was a party drug that amplified physical sensation, reduced inhibitions, and increased physical stamina… it was also excreted through the skin of users in reduced potency- resulting in a contact high for susceptible races… which she definitely was. “What are you drinking?”

Three drinks, two songs, and one swimming head later- she was stumbling into a back room with that deliciously forked tongue tickling her tonsils. Interrycans had skin that tasted like ginger- warm and spicy and delicious- and coupled with the amaora that ginger skin was laced with, she was having more fun necking than she’d had since… junior high, maybe? She giggled happily, loving the tingley, floaty feeling she was getting from the booze, and the drug and the imminent sex.

Kata- that was her name… Kata. She was pretty sure it was Kata, anyway. Kata was making quick work of her clothes and seemed to be having just as much fun based on the little gasps and mumbled words she was hearing.

She was lifted up by her tall partner and wrapped her legs around her waist as she was slammed back against the wall, the impact triggering a rush of sensation and making her shiver and sigh. “Strong,” Kata purred, nipping at her throat.

“Mmmhmmm,” she moaned, her head craning back, “you, too…” Her hands burrowed under the filmy fabric of the scarf, thumbs stroking over the little ridges in the skin that covered Kata’s ribs, making her moan. Man was she EVER glad she paid attention in Xenobiology class!

One minute she was having the time of her life, and the next she was trying to keep her focus as three BIG guys strong armed their way into the room and ripped Kata out of her arms. She dropped to the floor like a stone, dazed and disoriented. Kata, on the other hand was much quicker to recover. One long leg lifted and kicked the first guy square in the chest, sending him into the sink- oh! They’d ended up in a private bathroom. Cool. That meant…. She ducked under the hands that grabbed for her and rolled. She was impaired and unarmed and she didn’t recognize the race of the intruders, so she was uninformed too.

Not good. She’d gotten herself out of immediate reach and bought herself a few seconds. Hopefully long enough to fix the whole ‘unarmed’ issue. Her preferred weapon for hand to hand was Iriskan Batons, but she didn’t bring weapons to her brother’s shows… so… she hopped up, rocking on her feet slightly from the sudden shift, and grabbed the two narrow pipes that rose out of the back of the commode and yanked hard. It took another two solid jolts, but both pipes came free- sending up a spray of cold water and leaving her armed. On the upside- the icy cold water cleared her foggy mind a bit and rinsed any remaining traces of amaora off her skin.

Hugging the wall, she crouched and got a feel for the weight of the pipes. Kata was keeping two of the guys occupied and handling herself quite well. But the third guy was not the slightest bit slowed by the water. He strode toward her and he was MASSIVE easily twice her size with a long reach. Years of training kicked in and as he got close she rolled out of the way, swinging the pipes together to crack into his kneecap and the back of his knee at once. The joint buckled, throwing him off balance and she continued her spin into a high kick, the steel-reinforced toe of her boot catching him in the back, right over his lower rib. She heard a crack that might have been a bone, or could have been… nope, Kata had busted a sink and was wielding the broken ceramic like a blade. Hot. Focus!

Big guy was recovering and turning to face her, so she moved again, this time using the seat of the toilet to launch her into the air, bringing the pipes down in quick succession on his skull and leaving him dazed enough that she was able to land a couple of punches, still clinging to those pipes. He went down, but before she could catch her breath massive arms snapped around her torso, squeezing her so tightly she couldn’t pull a full breath in and her hands almost immediately started to tingle and go numb.

She shrieked (as much as her restricted breathing would allow) and thrashed, because when quiet and deadly wasn’t working, make a racket. Scream your head off. Attract as much attention as possible. Especially when you were a small female and the person you were fighting was a big male. Outdated gender roles still created an unconscious bias in onlookers that worked in her favor.

“He’s the last one!” she heard someone holler- Kata. She must’ve dealt with one of them herself. She was jerked forward, something must have impacted with the back of the guy holding her. The jolt made her slip down in his grip slightly. It wasn’t much, but it was letting her get a touch more air and when she kicked out, her feet scraped against the wall.

“Do that again!” she yelled back and she could tell the remaining asshat was starting to realize that hanging on to her like this was leaving him completely vulnerable to anything Kata threw at him. This time when he jolted forward, she was ready, legs curled up, feet together. He jerked forward and she kicked out, her boots denting the older wood of the wall and throwing his balance completely off. Reflexively, he released her to catch himself before he fell.

She landed on her back with a splash, winding herself, but managing to avoid cracking her head on the floor. Her arms were still numb and tingling, hands weak, so she wasn’t in the best shape. Thankfully, she wasn’t alone. Kata was a surprisingly good fighter… for a random bar hook-up. She rolled away from the stumbling man, still trying to drag some air into her lungs. She was getting dizzy from lack of air… and probably from the amaora and booze, too- but breathing was kind of important. Her head swam and it was getting hard to focus. Uh-oh… she might actually pass- suddenly her magic flared to life, sending her into a spasm like she’d gotten hit with electricity.

Her lungs expanded, sending a rush of oxygen through her, and the magic skittered over her skin, sparking into the air like little embers from a fire. Suddenly, she felt STRONG. Invincible even. Some part of her brain was trying to remind her that intoxication+magic was a BAD combo, but she didn’t really care.

“You shit,” she growled at the last guy, who had Kata by the throat. The words felt strange in her mouth and she suspected that the magic had done more than just energize her. She licked her lips, surprised by the feel of fangs where her canines had been. “I was having fucking fun!” With a sound that was very close to a roar, she charged, feet slipping slightly on the wet floor. She brought one of the pipes in her hands down HARD into the center of his forearm and there was a flash of light as the magic burst around the impact, increasing the strength of the blow. This time the crack she heard was definitely bone, and Kata fell from his grasp, a shaking wheeze telling her that the blond was pulling in some air.

The big guy howled, and she yelled right back at him, one of her boots stomping hard on the back of his knee. Another loud snap and bright burst of magic and he went down. Even on his knees, he was almost as tall as her, but the back of the skull was a weak spot for almost all bipedal races and she didn’t waste any time swinging her pipe down on his. This time the burst was so bright it blinded her temporarily.

Blinking rapidly she turned to where she thought Kata was, “you okay?”

“Yeah…” Kata’s voice was hoarse, noticeably pain-laced. “I think so.”

“I can… probably… help… with… the pain,” she panted, totally overwhelmed by power and intoxicants and adrenaline. “C’mere… Kiss me… it’ll help… magic kisses…”

She still couldn’t really see much, but she felt the soft, warm hand on her hip, felt the little burst of the contact high, and then there were soft, velvety lips on hers and a little forked tongue tickling the roof of her mouth and her body surged, reminding her strongly of what had been interrupted. She felt her magic swirl around the both of them, and heard the pipes splash and clatter to the floor as she moaned and pulled the tall blonde flush against her, deepening the kiss.

“What the actual hell!?! PIXIE!” her father’s voice cut through the haze and Kata jerked away from her.

Her sight seemed to be returning to normal, except for a few spots floating around the edges of her vision. She let her eyes scan the bathroom. Oh. Wow. The sink was destroyed. Water still sprayed from the busted pipes and was several inches deep on the floor. Her shirt, bra, and jacket all floated near the drain that was completely ineffective against this volume of water. Three large guys were strewn on the floor, two of them bleeding… that one by the door might actually be dead- she had no idea what Kata had done to him. One end of the light was torn free of the ceiling, wires hanging in a tangle.

She caught sight of herself in the mirror- oh. Her hair looked like hell, sodden and matted and clinging to her skin weirdly.. Power was still crackling through her, making her skin and eyes glow, her pupils had slitted and- oh hey- those fangs were still there. Kata didn’t look much better- that thin floaty scarf completely transparent from water, streaked with blood and torn in several spots.

It could be worse though. She was unharmed as far as she could tell. Kata seemed to be mostly okay. AND her father had used his pet name for her instead of the litany of ALL of her given names- which meant he was worried, not angry. Which was good, because, she’d been the one that was ATTACKED, after all.

Still, he probably wasn’t thrilled at finding his daughter glowing, and be-fanged, half naked, drunk, high, and making out with a random alien in a trashed bathroom surrounded by- um... possibly corpses?

“Baby? Are you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle as he ventured into the room and looked around.

“I.. think so?” she answered.

“Holy shit, Pixie- this place is destroyed… we need to get you out of here… if word of this gets out….”

"Oh please, like this is the worst I have done,” she giggled, still totally buzzing from too many things to count, “this wouldn’t even make my top ten.”

#fictober18 #Fictober18Day19 #Day19PromptOhPleaseLikeThisIsTheWorstIHaveDone #OhPleaseLikeThisIsTheWorstIHaveDone

2 notes · View notes

ohmydavidbowie · 6 years ago

Text

TBC

Two rules.Two obvious, simple, easy rules.

That's all Debbie Ocean had in mind - along with all the excitement that kept making a shiver go down her spine - whenever she performed a new heist.

Just two rules: 1. don't fall in love, and 2. don't get caught.

Unfortunately, breaking rules was something she enjoyed just as much as stealing things.

Five years in prison gave her plenty of time to plan and think and think and plan again until her brain would claim for some sleep and in her sleep she would dream about what later she would start calling The Perfect Heist.

It always started the same way: Debbie getting out of prison, Lou waiting for her outside with her exaggerated motorcycle and her exaggerated smile. They would go and steal an incredible amount of jewelry - which had nothing to do with Debbie but everything to do with Lou - and live a happy life together as the best friends they were.

Drinking, smoking weed, fighting everyday but still never letting go of each other, exactly like the two grandmas with gay ex-husbands from a show she started watching in prison but never got to finish because she had to trade the cellphone for tampons.

In her dream it was always just the two of them. The two against the world. But of course in real life things changed a little.

Not that she didn't like the girls, she loved them. She learned how to appreciate each one of them for what they were, with their virtues and flaws.

Amita was the yin and the yang. At the same time she was the most focused on the group, she was also one of the funniest. Debbie couldn't stop laughing for a whole hour when Rose told the squad about the French situation when they went to scan the necklace.

Speaking of Rose, Debbie didn't recall meeting someone that pure during her entire life. Of course she wasn't stupid or dumb or something like that. She was a mature woman who knew what she was doing but at the same time she was innocent, somehow. Something Daphne totally wasn't.

Daphne was like the 13 years old sister Debbie never had, except she was almost in her thirties. She loved listening to loud music, she loved having sex and she knew exactly what she was getting into when she decided to join the group. At first Debbie was skeptical, but she grew fond to the girl.

Just as she grew fond to Nine Ball. She was quiet and spent most of her time hacking stuff and listening to music in many different languages. She would go from Arabian songs to an annoying Korean thing (sis, it's called K-POP and it's NOT annoying, she would say) in minutes and she could sing all of them. Perfectly.

Constance was funny. She was an orphan who grew up trying to make the most of herself but ended up on the streets. It didn't make her less than anyone though. The reason she kept cheating on street games was because she wanted enough money to pursuit her dream of becoming a famous YouTuber (it IS a thing, Debbie, shut up) and getting enough money to help young girls on the same condition she went through. She wanted to be known and she wanted to be known by doing great things.

Which was totally unlike Tammy, the person she slept with countless times but was never brave enough to call her girlfriend. She was smart and probably the only one in the group who could pass for normal - if you call normal being married and having two kids and living in the suburbs while keeping your garage filled with stolen stuff. Tammy never wanted this but that's how she ended up. Debbie never forgot about how after the fifth orgasm Tammy would say things like "I wanna run away with you and live the wildest life ever".

A wild life. Much like Lou's.

She has known Lou since their early twenties and she never crossed anyone like her short-haired best friend. Lou Miller was born in Australia and moved to the USA when she was just a kid, their parents were both artists and thought America would give them better opportunities.

Their expectations weren't met though.

Lou's mother - Grace - started working as a barista while her father - Hugh - decided to follow the easier but wrong way, becoming a drug dealer. The money started coming but it didn't last much: he got murdered two years after they moved to New York, just not before turning Patricia's life a living hell.

When Lou was 15 she started arguing with her mother about her never mentioning Hugh or trying to avoid the subject when someone brought him up. Her mom said she didn't owe her any explanations and Lou said she was being a bitch. For the first time in her life Lou got punched in the face - and it was definitely not the last.

When Lou turned 17 Patricia died in a car crash and when she turned 19 she decided to steal for the first time.

Debbie was hanging out at this downtown club trying to stay away from her disfunctional family at least for a couple of hours when she felt a hand trying to reach inside her purse. She turned around just in time to see a blonde heading to the exit as fast as she could.

When the blonde was about to reach the door, Debbie held her arm, turning the girl to face her.

"Give it back", she said.

Lou just stared at her.

"And don't try to run, I'm fast."

Lou moved like she was going to return Debbie her purse, but she pushed her instead and started running.

Thing is, Debbie was indeed fast. And strong.

Lou ran to an alley and when she thought the brunette lost her track, she got slammed against the wall, her right cheek facing the cold material while her hands were trapped on her back.

"I told you I was fast, blondie."

Debbie got her purse back and was about to scream for help when the blonde took a deep, deep breath.

"Please, don't."

Debbie watched her closely, still holding her hands.

"Why shouldn't I?", Debbie asked.

"First, you can't prove I stole anything. Second, you're the one holding me with your leg between mine. Not that I'm complaining, just move a little to the righ-" Debbie kicked her.

"Ouch, ok, I'm sorry. I'm just saying - you're the one keeping me as some kind of hostage. I don't think people will buy that an angelic face like mine would steal anything from anyone".

Debbie rolled her eyes.

"You've got some balls, huh?"

"Ew, no. I don't. But thank you, I guess."

Debbie started to slowly release Lou's hands, allowing the girl to face her. "Don't do anything stupid."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Don't call me that, you're probably my age", Debbie said.

"But you're definitely not dressed as someone your age. What's the deal?"

"I... It's complicated", Debbie started.

"I have all night, pretty".

And that was the first night they spent together, talking about life until the sun started making its appearance.

The brunette bought them a beer and Debbie - the sweet, smart, she-would-never-do-this Debbie - couldn't believe she was hanging out with someone who had just tried to steal her purse. Still, Louise - that was her name - was something else.

She wasn't like the girls Debbie knew: the ones with perfect hair and perfect clothes and perfect boyfriends and perfect families. She was different.

Her hair was beautiful - blonde and short - and looked amazing moving with the wind - but it was far from perfect. If anything, it was perfectly messy.

Her clothes were very stylish but obviously second-handed and her jacket had a "vagitarian" button on it which meant she either liked girls or she had bought that from someone with spelling problems.

When Debbie asked her about her family, she said she didn't want to talk about it - and then Debbie knew her family was fucked up. She didn't want talk about hers either.

In the end, it was only a matter of time until their late night meetings became a regular thing. At least three times a week they would hang out together and do whatever they felt like doing. Debbie thought the first month would be at least weird since they were pretty much opposites but that wasn't what happened.

With Lou everything felt... easy. So she opened up. She told her everything. She spoke about college and about how she wanted to be known for doing great things and about how her entire family expected her to do better than her brother. "He's the black sheep", Debbie said with the drag of a cigarette Lou offered her, "you have to be everything he's not - it's what my parents say. As if they were in position to say anything", she rolled her eyes.

"They think I'm a saint. Or at least that's what they expect me to be."

"But you're not, are you?", Lou bite her lip.

"No, I'm not", and another drag.

"My mom isn't much of a bad person to be honest. She's just overwhelming, you know? Being around her sometimes is just... too much. She wants everything her way and she can get extremely mad when things go out of hand. Her greatest sin is being controlling and that's something I can deal with. My father on the other hand is unbearable. He cheats on my mom and she knows it. He's never sober. He finds a way to criticize everything I do because it's never good enough. I'm never good enough."

"Danny was a good kid once. His grades were amazing and he always had this charm that could get him anything he wanted. He could have had an easy life but he hated easy things. So he started stealing things and when he was twenty-two my father kicked him out from home because he almost got arrested. He said he didn't raise Danny to become a little thief."

"But before that? He would allow him to do anything he wanted to - and he's only two years older than me. He could bring girls home and he could stay out until late." "Meanwhile I'm can't drink, I can't smoke, I can't date, I can't even fucking sit the way I want to. If he knew I was swearing, for example, he would... God knows what he would do."

"Has he ever-"

"Hurted me? No. But only because - as you know - I'm fast."

Lou touched her arm.

"If he ever lays a finger on you, I'm gonna kick his ass".

"My saviour", Debbie smiled.

And that's how it went for a while. Debbie and Lou spending time together and Lou getting to know everything about Debbie while the brunette would try to make the other talk.

She wouldn't though.

"So what about a bucket list?"

"A bucket list?"

"Yep, a list with stuff you haven't done and you'd like to do before, you know, dying or something."

"Uhm, I don't know..."

"Come on, I can help you with that."

"Okay, what do you suggest?"

"For starters... How many items do you wanna add?"

"No idea. How many do you suggest?"

"Ten? Then you can add more later if you feel like-"

"Okay, ten" Debbie gave it a thought. "I wanna get a tattoo."

"Right, I have some friends who can get it done."

Debbie gave her a suspiscious look but went on.

"Right. I wanna learn another language."

"That's easy, I can also help with that"

Ialso wanna learn how to ride a motorcycle."

Lou gave her the biggest smile.

"I can teach you."

1 note · View note