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lveclouds · 4 years

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mist (i won’t say i’m in love sequel)

↬ pairing/character(s): hercules! mingi x reader, wooyoung as terpishchore (muse of dance), seonghwa as erato (muse of love poetry), hongjoong as euterpe (muse of music), jongho as polyhymnia (muse of hymns), san as clio (muse of history), yeosang as thaila (muse of comedy), and yunho as urania (muse of astronomy)

↬ genre: fluff, heavy angst, mutual pining, ancient greece au, strangers to lovers

↬ tw: mentions of death, heavy swearing, soul-selling, servitude, mentions of bullying (nothing too intense), mentions of abandonment, love triangle (im sorry in advance)

↬ disclaimer: may contain slight inaccuracies with dates, setting, etc. i also changed the story a bit to make it a little less intense. also, i forgot to mention this, but there may or may not be a slight plot twist and you guys are probably going to hate me for it :’) also this is loosely based off of hercules, the disney animated fim/ greek mythology

p.s. i am no expert on greek mythology or greek culture, so feel free to correct me on anything, but please be gentle about it.

↬ rating: m, 18+

↬ wc: 12k

↬ summary: you felt your heart ache at the utter anger and confusion on mingi’s face. “you lied to me?” “yes, but i-” “but you what? thought it would be amusing to lead me on? to rip my heart out?” you flinched at the uncharacteristic coldness in mingi’s voice. “please, i can explain-” mingi shook his head, grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. “i never want to see you again, and don’t you ever think for one second that i’m going to come to rescue you from whatever danger you might face. you disgust me.” he snapped, voice as hard as steel. you could only watch, helplessly, as the man you loved walked away, taking your heart with him. seonghwa, who’d been watching from the safety of a tree, came running over to you and pulled you into his arms, holding you tight as you sobbed.

“why, why am i afraid?” - ateez (mist)

↬ note: hello friends!! this is the sequel to my previous au, “i won’t say i’m in love”! thank you all for supporting me and my mediocre writing, and i hope you all enjoy reading “mist!” as always, feedback is always appreciated, and i hope you all are staying safe and healthy!

you hummed quietly to yourself as you sat on the edge of the low wall that surrounded the garden, letting your feet dangle in the air, mindlessly swinging them back and forth. the night air was cool and crisp, and the moon was glowing serenely against the midnight blue sky, bathing the garden in a soft, white light. it was late, and despite the hectic evening you’d had, you couldn’t bring yourself to sleep.

seonghwa, san, and the others had reluctantly disappeared into their small cottage to retire for the night, after you had assured them that you were just going to sit around in the garden for a few minutes before joining them. your mind was a whirlwind of thoughts. after all, you had just confessed your deepest and darkest secret to the people you considered family, and they hadn’t turned you away like you thought they would. however, you weren’t sure how you were going to gather up the courage to tell mingi.

you scoffed, immediately erasing the idea from your mind. don’t be ridiculous, it’s not like he would care anyways. besides, you’re not supposed to fall for him, you’re supposed to break his heart, so it doesn’t matter what he thinks of you. you ignored the bile rising in your throat. at first, you had thought that the task would be easy, as you were sure you weren’t ever going to fall for someone again, especially not after the way your past romance had ended tragically.

you clenched the soft fabric of your blue chiton in your hands, feeling angry tears prick at the corner of your eyes. you hated feeling so conflicted, especially over someone who had practically ripped your heart out. after all, men had done nothing but disappoint you, and your former lover had proved that to be true.

seonghwa couldn’t sleep. he was too worried about you, especially now that he knew that hades had a motive to hurt you. his heart had ached as you broke down and told everyone your secret. he sighed, running a hand through his messy hair and looked around him. even in the darkness of the small room, he could just make out the vibrant blue of hongjoong’s hair, yeosang’s light blonde hair, wooyoung and san curled up against one another, and jongho and yunho sprawled out on the bed across from him. seonghwa allowed himself a small, fond smile. he was grateful that he was able to spend time with his family every day, and that they were always safe and sound at the end of the day.

seonghwa reluctantly slid out of his warm bed, shrugged his worn sandals on, slipped out the door and into the cool night. he wandered mindlessly around the garden, admiring how the blue and pink flowers that grew in its vicinity stood out against the dark of the night. the air was cool and soothing against his skin as he wandered farther, mind swimming with thoughts.

suddenly, seonghwa heard faint sobs, and felt his blood run cold. he wandered into a more secluded part of the garden, and felt his heart drop into his stomach. you were sitting at the edge of the low wall that surrounded the perimeter of the garden, hands gripping the soft fabric of your chiton so hard that your knuckles were turning white, body was shaking with soft sobs. seonghwa immediately ran over to you, throwing his arms around you and pulling you into a hug. “h-hwa. i-i’m s-sorry, did i wake you?” his heart ached at how dejected you sounded.

seonghwa shook his head, hugging you tighter and rubbing comforting circles on your back. “i couldn’t sleep.” “i’m sorry for worrying you, i just needed to clear my head.” “y/n,stop apologizing. you did nothing wrong, and the fact that you mustered up the courage to tell us your secret must’ve been hard for you to keep.” you sniffled and buried your face in the crook of his neck, letting out a shaky breath. “it was, but i didn’t want to keep lying to everyone. none of you deserve to be lied to, not after all you all have done for me.”

“darling, please, none of what you did is your fault. it’s that godsdamn jerk hades. and never feel afraid to come to any of us for comfort, we are always here for you, ok? and don’t keep secrets from us again.” seonghwa felt you nod weakly, and allowed himself a small smile. “good. now, let’s get back inside before you freeze to death.” you chuckled, despite yourself. “hwa, it’s not even cold.” “don’t you dare argue with me, young lady.” seonghwa scolded lightheartedly. you rolled your eyes, glad he couldn’t see it as he scooped you up into his arms, carrying you bridal style. “yes, father.” that earned you a playful glare. “i am not that old, you know!” you laughed, reaching up and ruffling seonghwa’s hair affectionately. “whatever you say, old man.”

you woke up the next morning to find yunho practically wrapped around you, his soft black hair tickling your cheek, and you smiled fondly, remembering all the nights you spent as kids curled up next to the muses you had come to call family, feeling safe and secure. the early morning sun cast beams of light across the floor of the small cottage, bathing it in gold.

you slowly and carefully extricated yourself from yunho’s grip and headed outside to see if seonghwa needed help with tending to the garden. said male would wake up before everyone to tend to every plant and flower that occupied it, and you felt that helping seonghwa was the least you could to do to thank him for comforting you last night.

sure enough, seonghwa was bent over a bed of roses, golden eyes searching for any deformities. “hwa!” you called, and the former’s expression lit up, a fond smile tugging at his lips, waving you over. “how are the roses doing?” you asked, admiring how the pink rose petals stood out against the dark soil. “they’re alright, despite this weather.” you hummed thoughtfully, reaching out and lightly touching the rose petals, velvet soft against your skin. “thank you.” “for what?” seonghwa asked, moving on to another cluster of flowers, eyebrows furrowing in concentration. “for last night. for comforting me.” the love muse’s expression went soft, golden eyes glimmering with unshed tears. “no need to thank me, darling. you’ve been through so much, and you deserve to have comfort. besides, we’re practically family, and we’re all supposed to there for each other, no matter what.”

you smiled, reaching out and taking seonghwa’s hand in yours, squeezing gently. “do you need help with the flowers?” the former shook his head, black hair falling across his forehead. “well, is there anything i can do?” seonghwa smiled. “you can help me by waking the others up.” you groaned, knowing how difficult that was. “that’s going to take centuries, hwa!” “well, the flowers aren’t going to tend to themselves.” “aren’t you the muse of love poetry?” “yeah, and what about it? i am perfectly capable of taking care of nature.” you laughed, reaching out and ruffling seonghwa’s hair affectionately. “of course you are. now, if you’ll excuse me, i need to go wake up our little band of gremlins.” seonghwa chuckled softly as you turned and skipped towards the cottage, your heart seemingly lighter than before.

it had taken nearly forty five minutes to wake everyone up, save hongjoong, who had actually gotten up as soon as you had gently shaken his shoulder. the others had been a bit more difficult, especially jongho and yeosang, who were notorious for sleeping in late.

another twenty minutes later, breakfast was served, and it had been fruit, a few vegetables, bread, and cheese that seonghwa had managed to snag from the local market earlier that morning. then, yunho suggested that they lay out underneath the huge tree that took up a portion of the garden, of which everyone had agreed to, to your surprise.

“when are you going to be done sulking?” “not sulking.” mingi mumbled, leaning against the tree he’d been sitting under for the past few hours, the bark rough against his back. maddox scoffed. “yeah, and i’m a descendant of zeus. you’re not fooling anyone, kid.” mingi sighed. “i just-” “missing her already?” he felt his face burn. “s-shut up.” “there’s no need to be embarrassed, you know. i know i tease, but i genuinely want to see you happy, you deserve it.”

“what if she doesn’t feel the same?” mingi mumbled, blush deepening. he felt silly, pining after a girl he barely knew, but you were unlike anyone he had met. he heard maddox scoff. “please, that girl cannot fool anyone, even with her tough and stubborn facade.” “even if she liked me, would we even work?” maddox’s expression softened just a fraction, and he moved forward, placing a gentle hand on mingi’s shoulder, as if in comfort. “that’s something you’ll have to figure out yourself, kid.” mingi huffed. “that’s what i’ve been trying to do.” “give it time, it’ll come to you eventually.”

mingi’s mind was still heavy with conflict as he walked along a long dirt path that would lead him to the cottage he resided in. even though he had been offered nicer accommodation in the city, mingi preferred to live in a more secluded area and one that was closer to nature. the late evening air was crisp and clean as he ventured further down the path, mind constantly wandering. his conversation with maddox earlier that day had done little to soothe his anxiety. mingi was so lost in thought that he bumped into someone. “i’m so sorry i-” mingi felt his mouth suddenly go dry, as if he’d swallowed sandpaper.

“wonder boy?” you asked, leaning back against a tree, keeping your expression as nonchalant as possible. even in the darkness, you could still make out the blush that was forming on mingi’s face. in the soft glow of the moon, mingi looked as gorgeous as ever, and you ignored the slight ache in your heart at the sight of him. “h-hi.” he stammered.. “what brings you out here at this time of night?” “just passing through.” “ it’s been a while since we’ve seen each other, hasn’t it?”

“i’ve been busy.” mingi mumbled, running a hand through his already messy hair. you frowned at the slight annoyance in his tone, but didn’t think anything of it. “farewell, mingi.” you muttered, pushing off the tree with your elbow and walking away, not bothering to look back.

“everything ok?” yunho asked, light green eyes filled with worry. you sighed, leaning your head on the tall male’s shoulder, shaking your head slightly. immediately, an arm wrapped around your shoulders, squeezing gently. “what happened?” “it’s pathetic.” “just tell me.” “fine. on my way here, i bumped into mingi, quite literally, at that.” “and?” what happened that has you so sad?” “do we need to beat someone up?” an amused smile tugged at the corner of your lips, and you laughed. “well, let me finish telling you and then i’ll let you and the others decide.”

“what did he do?” “well, he seemed different.” “different how?” “i don’t know, it’s just the way he talked to me. he sounded kind of annoyed?” you felt yunho tense a little, the grip on your shoulders a little firmer, and you reached down and laced your fingers with his, squeezing gently. “i’m sure he was just having a bad day. don’t kill him, please. i can’t have you or the others being thrown into prison for beating someone up.” yunho huffed. “fine, but if he hurts you, i’ll get san to break his legs.” you laughed, snuggling deeper into the tall male’s side. “i’ll keep that in mind, then.”

you tried not to laugh at the way seonghwa and jongho’s jaws clenched as you told them about what happened between you and mingi earlier that night. “i’ll kill him.” “no killing anyone, please. it’s not that big of a deal, he was probably having a bad day, everyone does.” “ok, but he didn’t have to take it out on you.” “yes, but-” “next time you see mingi, tell him that i will not hesitate to break his legs if he hurts you again.” “he won’t, i promise. like i said, he was probably having a bad day.” san huffed. “let him know.” “ok, ok, i will.”

“enough about my love life.” “so you’re admitting you have one?” yunho asked, light green eyes twinkling with mirth. “s-shut up, i do not.” wooyoung snorted, plopping down next to san, who rolled his eyes in amusement as the former laid his head on his shoulder. “you totally do, darling.” “not you too, hwa.” “sorry, but i have to agree with wooyoung.” you groaned, throwing yourself down onto the grass, laying your head in hongjoong’s lap, who just chuckled and ran a hand through your hair. “tough day?” “s-shut up, i’ve had enough bullying for one day.”

(the next day)

“i messed up.” mingi mumbled, plopping down on the soft grass next to maddox, who only sighed in response. “what did you do this time?” “i might’ve lashed out.” “lovers’ quarrel?” “would you quit that? no, it wasn’t that, i just- i don’t know, i guess i was so conflicted about my feelings that i took my anger out on her. what do i do?” “apologize.” “i-it’s not that easy, you know.” though mingi wasn’t looking in his direction, he could tell that his mentor was rolling in his eyes in exasperation. “it is, actually, you just walk up to her, say you’re sorry, and then you two live happily ever after for the rest of your days.”

mingi frowned. “i’m serious.” “i am too. look, kid, if you’re not going to apologize, then i’ll do it for you.” “please don’t.” “i will if you would stop being a coward.” “i-i’m not a coward, she just makes me nervous, that’s all.” “i know it’s difficult, but if you don’t tell her how you feel soon, she might move on and find someone else.” “y-yeah, like who?” maddox shrugged. “i don’t know, maybe one of those muses she always hangs around.” “what? what muses?” “the muses? you seriously don’t know them?” “i-i do, i just have never seen them.” “well, she’s always around them, and they’re all pretty handsome, so i suggest you hurry up and profess your love or whatever before one of them steal her away.”

“they could probably treat her better than me anyways.” he mumbled, which earned him an elbow to the ribs. “what was that for?” “would you quit being so pitiful? you never know until you try, and besides, i think she might feel the same.” “doubt it, but fine, i’ll try.” maddox grinned, reaching out and patting his shoulder gently. “that’s the spirit, kid.”

the late afternoon sun bathed the forest in light as mingi leaned against a tree, ignoring how the rough bark dug into his back. his heart leaped in his chest as he heard soft footsteps approaching, and felt his breath catch in his throat at the sight of you. you were a vision in light pink robes that complimented your skin, dark hair framing your face perfectly. “hi wonderboy.” you called out, and mingi felt his face flush at the mere sound of your voice.

“h-hi.” “why did you want to see me?” “i wanted to apologize for how i acted the other day. i wasn’t feeling the greatest, and i took my annoyance out on you.” “it’s fine, don’t worry about it. although, my friends were quite worried and threatened to beat you up.” mingi winced. you laughed softly. “don’t worry. my friends are harmless even though they act like they aren’t sometimes.” “so, i’m forgiven, then?” “mingi, you were forgiven the moment you sent a scroll asking to talk to me.” you shrugged. “besides, i wasn’t offended, i just figured you were having a bad day, like you said.”

mingi allowed himself a smile, and felt his pulse race when you returned it.

“so, how’d it go with mingi?” wooyoung asked, wiggling his eyebrows suggestively. seonghwa rolled his eyes and smacked the former lightly on the shoulder. “will you quit that?” the blond male only huffed in protest, but the curious glint never left his eyes. “what’s there to tell? he apologized, and that was it.” “seriously? no passionate kiss in the forest? no getting pressed up against a tree and making out? nothing? not even a kiss on the cheek? you two are so lame.” wooyoung sighed, dramatically falling into yeosang’s lap, who rolled his eyes in response.

“jung wooyoung, if you don’t shut up right now, i will not hesitate to-” “yeah, yeah, i know, throw me into the depths of the underworld.” “exactly.” “it’s what you deserve, honestly.” yeosang mumbled, but made no move to shove the aforementioned muse off his lap. “yeosang! i thought we were friends.” “if you call barely tolerating you on a daily basis, then yes.”

you laughed in amusement at their incessant bickering. “yeosang, stop being so harsh on wooyoung. he’s sensitive, you know.” “i am not!” the dance muse protested. hongjoong scoffed, not looking up from the elaborate flower crown he was making, rolling his eyes. “says the guy who wouldn’t stop sulking after san ignored him for a whole day because he accidentally spilled wine on his brand new toga.” “it was a whole week, and it hurt!”

san sighed. “why am i friends with this idiot?” “because you love me.” “believe what you want, wooyoung.” jongho rolled his eyes. “hongjoong hyung!” said muse looked up from his now finished flower crown, carefully placing it on his head, hazel eyes widening in suprise. “yes, jongho?” “c-could you help me with this verse for a hymn? i’ve been stuck on it for days.”

hongjoong’s face broke out into a wide smile, eyes turning into crescents, then flung himself at seonghwa, who stumbled a bit from the sudden attack, but recovered and wrapped his arms around the former, holding him tight. “what’s wrong, joong?” he asked, voice as gentle as ever, but the amused smile tugging at his lips was obvious. “j-jongho finally asked me to h-help him.” hongjoong wailed, burying his face into seonghwa’s chest, soft sobs wracking his body. seonghwa bit back a laugh as he patted hongjoong’s head gently.

“are those tears of joy? or?” you laughed, reaching out and patting jongho’s shoulder gently. “definitely tears of joy. he’s been waiting for this moment for a millennia.” “finally, i’ve been spared!” yeosang cried out happily. jongho huffed. “i hate you.” yeosang only beamed. “love you too!” you rolled your eyes at their bickering. “have fun writing with hongjoong, he’s really been waiting for this day for ages.” jongho sighed. “i know. he wouldn’t stop whining to seonghwa hyung about it.” “yeah, i know, he’s also complained to me too.” “jongho! hurry up!” hongjoong called.

you laughed at the embarrassment on jongho’s face as he mumbled his goodbyes and ran over to hongjoong, both of them disappearing behind an alcove of trees seconds later. “he must be really happy, huh?” “yeah, he is.”

“how are things with mingi?” seonghwa inquired once everyone was distracted with the field of flowers a few feet away, marveling at the colorful petals. “honestly? i’m not sure. we’re not lovers, after all. i don’t even know if we’re friends. i guess we’re just acquaintances?” seonghwa rolled his eyes. “so, you’re telling me that after all the encounters you’ve had with each other that your relationship with him is still unknown?”

you smiled sheepishly. “i-i guess?” the silver haired male sighed in exasperation. “you two are giving me a headache.” you laughed, leaning against seonghwa’s side, resting your head on his shoulder. the aforementioned muse immediately wrapped an arm around you. “but you love me.” “yeah, yeah.” you smiled, snuggling deeper into seonghwa’s warmth and allowing a comfortable silence to settle between the two of you.

“mingi better not break her heart, or i will personally throw him into the depths of the underworld.” wooyoung muttered, breaking off a petal of the rose he had in his hand, letting it gently float in the wind before settling peacefully in the grass around him. “stop destroying nature, would you?” san scolded, snatching the rose out of wooyoung’s hand, earning a squawk of protest from the latter. “while i agree with you, woo, i don’t think we should just charge at him like a minotaur gone truly mad.” “then, what do you think we should do, oh wise one?”

“we should just talk to him, peacefully and without violence?” wooyoung scoffed. “that’s a terrible idea. do you want her heart to be broken?” “of course not, it’s just- he’s stronger than all of us, there’s no way any of us could take him in a real fight.” “yunho’s right, we’re all as thin as wheat and can’t lift anything remotely heavy.” “that’s not true! we’re not that weak!” yeosang rolled his eyes, but didn’t argue.

“why are we discussing murder?” a voice cut in, interrupting their conversation. yunho turned and saw seonghwa standing at the entrance of the garden, lean arms crossed over his chest, golden eyes twinkling with amusement. you were beside him, looking as equally amused as the former. “we’re not discussing murder, we’re just-” san slapped a hand over wooyoung’s mouth before he could continue, smiling nervously, ignoring how the latter squirmed, mumbling something incoherent. “we were discussing just how much of a great person you are, hyung.”

seonghwa bit back a laugh. “is that so?” “yes, of course! we would never think of murdering anyone! we’re too innocent and pure to commit such a wicked act!” unlike seonghwa, you laughed, the sound ringing in the air. “you are all so dramatic.” “ i honestly don’t know why i’m still hanging around you all.” “that’s because you have no other friends than us, yeosang.” wooyoung chirped, earning him a glare from the comedy muse.

“please don’t start fights, especially with mingi. i don’t want to see any of you hurt.” wooyoung beamed, throwing himself onto seonghwa, hugging him tightly. “so you do love us, hyung!” the older rolled his eyes. “no, i’m just tired of you all being a pain in my ass all the time. so please save me the trouble and not try to kill anyone, ok?” san pouted. “you’re so cruel, hyung!” “believe what you want, san.” “anyways, do you know when hongjoong and jongho will be back? they need to help out with supper later.” “well, they’re probably going to be done, at least, hopefully, before the sun sets.” “ok, then i’ll just go gather the vegetables and fruit.”

“hwa, i might need some help, that is, if you’re willing to.” seonghwa smiled, expression soft and gentle. “of course, i’d be happy to.” as soon as they were out of earshot, wooyoung leaned forward, making sure to keep his voice as low as possible.

“is it just me, or is seonghwa hyung in love?” yeosang rolled his eyes, smacking the blond haired muse on the shoulder. “quit being delusional, seonghwa hyung’s always looked at her like that, we all do, you know. he cares about her just like he does the rest of us. besides, even if seonghwa hyung felt any sort of romantic way about y/n, she wouldn’t return his feelings and he’d get heartbroken.” “you never know! she could just be trying to use mingi as a distraction to get her mind off of him.” “you’re by far the dumbest person i know, woo.” “i know what i saw, yeosang!” “then prove it.” “what?” “if you can prove to me that seonghwa hyung really has feelings for y/n that are far from platonic, then i will not pick on you for a whole year.” wooyoung’s eyes brightened with determination. “you will eat your words soon, sangie.” “can’t wait.”

mingi softly hummed to himself as he walked through the forest, admiring how the sun shone through the leaves, bathing it in golden beams of light. his last meeting with you had gone well, better than he expected. “daydreaming about going on picnic dates with your girlfriend?” “no, and she’s not my girlfriend.” “sure, sure, keep lying to yourself.” “why are you even here? aren’t you supposed to be, i don’t know, doing important things?”

maddox scoffed. “please, as if the officials need me for anything.” his mentor made subsequent trips to the heart of the city, where the council presided, looking over and approving laws. a comfortable silence settled around them as they continued on through the forest.

suddenly, they heard laughter from a few feet away. and before mingi could say anything, maddox grabbed his wrist and pulled him in the direction of said laughter. “what are you doing?” “you’re not curious where the laughter is coming from?” “not really-” he was cut off a few seconds later when maddox suddenly stopped in his tracks. “what’s wrong?”

“kid, i’m sorry.” “about what?” he ignored maddox as he tried to prevent him from going past. mingi froze when he saw what maddox had been trying to prevent him from seeing. it was you, looking as beautiful as ever in a dark blue toga, holding a basket full of vegetables and fruit. but you were not alone. a tall male with silver hair, dressed in a white toga, an impossibly soft smile on his face, stood next to you. then, said male took the basket from you, pulling you into his side and wrapping a slender arm around your waist.

mingi waited for you to push him away, which otherwise never occurred. then, what came next felt as if his heart was going to be ripped out of his chest. you smiled and leaned into the male’s embrace, resting your head on his shoulder. he had had enough. mingi fought back tears as he ran away, ignoring maddox calling his name in the distance.

“calm down!” maddox shouted, gripping mingi’s shoulders tightly. “why should i? after what i saw?” “you know, there’s such a thing as jumping to conclusions, which is exactly what you’re doing right now! and even if that guy was her lover, what does it matter to you? you’re not together anyway, right?” “i’m fully aware of that, but it still hurts just as much. i need to be alone.” mingi mumbled, trying to keep his voice as even as possible. as soon as the grip on his shoulder loosened, he ran off into the forest, vision blurring.

dinner consisted of fruit and vegetables, along with a few quail eggs that seonghwa had managed to pick up at the market earlier that day. the early evening air was cool and crisp, and there was a light breeze that caused the leaves to sway gently.

“were you able to write the hymn?” jongho nodded as he popped a strawberry into his mouth, chewing thoughtfully. “it wasn’t easy, but it is finished.” seonghwa smiled fondly, reaching out and ruffling the younger’s hair affectionately. “i’m glad.” “did you spend time with y/n today?” wooyoung blurted, light blue eyes glimmering with anticipation, “yes, yes i did. we gathered the fruits and vegetables for supper. why?” “no reason hyung, just curious.” he mumbled, taking a sip of wine. seonghwa’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but he didn’t press further. yeosang pursed his lips tightly and looked away, trying to will himself to disappear. the former shrugged and merely got up and walked away to the center of the garden.

once he was out of earshot, yeosang elbowed wooyoung in the side, causing the latter to cry out in protest. “what was that for?” “could you be any more obvious?” “what are you talking about? i was very subtle!” yeosang rolled his eyes. “you were not.” “do you really think seonghwa hyung doesn’t have any sort of romantic feelings towards y/n?” “i really do.” “i will prove you wrong, just you wait!” “i’ll be waiting for the day when you do.”

you sat underneath a tree with seonghwa, curled up into his side, resting your head on his shoulder. the night sky was glittering with stars, bathing the garden in soft white light. “do you think my relationship with mingi will become something more?” “i can’t give you a sure answer, but i think if you allow a space for him in your heart, then maybe something will happen.”

“when did you get so…” “cheesy? romantic? well, i am the muse of love poetry, in case you forgot.” “right, you write cheesy poems for a living.” “my poems are masterpieces, just so you know.” “i apologize, oh humble one. i did not mean to slander your poems, which a truly a gift to mankind.” “stop feeding my ego.” you laughed, snuggling deeper into seonghwa’s side. “ok, ok, i’ll stop.”

“this is going to sound very cliche and cheesy-” “darling, please, i write romantic poems for a living. try me.” “i just- i’m grateful.” “for what?” “for not neglecting me. for taking care of me when i had no one else, and for giving me a home when my parents left me all alone, defenseless and starving.” you hadn’t realized you were crying until seonghwa pulled you into a warm and tight embrace, rubbing comforting circles on your back. “let it out, it’s okay.” “i’m sorry for breaking down like this, but-” “don’t apologize, darling. we are always here for you, and it’s perfectly okay to have an off day, we’ve all been there.” “i just-” “you don’t need to explain yourself, you never do. just promise me you won’t hide your pain from us? we hate to see you so sad.”

you nodded, leaning further into seonghwa’s embrace, burying your face in the crook of his neck, the scent of roses filling your senses. the smell was comforting, and you felt your eyelids droop, and you let sleep take over.

seonghwa smiled fondly at the sleeping girl in his arms, looking peaceful and at ease. he brushed a stray strand of hair off your forehead, tucking it gently behind your ear. the night was cool and crisp and tame, just how seonghwa preferred it to be. “hyung?” a quiet voice said behind him. he turned around, careful not to wake you, and saw yeosang standing behind him.

“yeosang? what is it? is something wrong?” san hesitated as he saw the immediate concern on seonghwa’s face. “i- i just wanted to see if y/n’s alright.” “she’s fine, just tired. why?” “ah, no reason, just curious.” “san, are you ok? you’re acting a bit strange.” “i’m alright, just tired. wooyoung ‘s been a pain in my ass all day.” seonghwa chuckled at that. “perfectly understandable. wooyoung can be quite the handful sometimes.”

yeosang gave the older an awkward wave, trying not to run away in embarrassment across the grass. as soon as he plopped down next to wooyoung, said male turned to him anticipation. “so, what did you see?” “she was asleep in seonghwa hyung’s arms; they were practically cuddling.” wooyoung clapped excitedly, and yeosang smacked him on the shoulder. “cut that out. just because i caught them cuddling doesn’t prove anything. she’s fallen asleep on all of us at some point.” “was she on his lap?” “what in tarturus? no, of course not.” “she was curled up in his arms, that’s all.”

“are you seriously still convinced that seonghwa hyung doesn’t pine for her?” yeosang sighed. “look, wooyoung, you should really just give up on this, i mean, don’t you think trying to prove something that you know isn’t true a waste of time?” “it may be to you, but not to me! he loves her, i’m sure of it!” “just don’t go overboard, ok?” “i won’t, i swear on the river styx.” “i sense empty promises, but fine.”

mingi sat on the edge of a ravine, feet dangling dangerously in the air, dried tears on his cheeks. he didn’t know when the crying had stopped, nor did he know how he ended up at the very edge of the forest. maddox was standing a few feet away, giving him space, which mingi was grateful for. his mind was swimming with thoughts and his heart ached.

he felt pathetic, for even thinking that someone like him had a chance with you. you looked happy, happier than he had ever seen you. there was a part of him that was happy that you were being cherished, for it was what you truly deserved. i was foolish to think that she ever showed any interest in me as a lover, mingi thought glumly, fighting back another deluge of tears.

he heard soft footsteps behind him and a few seconds later, a warm and gentle hand was on his shoulder. mingi sighed. “are you going to give me a lecture about how much of a fool i am?” “of course not, and you’re anything but a fool.” he let out a bitter, sad laugh. “how would you know that?” “because i’ve been your mentor for years, and while you were a bit clumsy at first, you persisted.” “what are you trying to say?” “i’m trying to tell you that you shouldn’t give up! so what if she has a potential suitor? make her see what she’s missing!” “you want me to make her jealous?” “exactly! then she’ll realize just how much of a great hero and guy you are, and then she’ll practically beg for you to be her lover.” mingi shook his head. “there’s no way in tarturus i’m doing that.” “why not?!” “i don’t want to make anger her for my personal gain, it’s not right.”

“ok, then, what do you think you should do?” “you saw her! she looks happy, and i don’t want to ruin that for her. i should try to move on.” maddox sighed. “do you even know who she was with?” “n-no? should i know him?” “do you remember when i mentioned the muses?” “vaguely.” his mentor rolled his eyes. “anyway, the guy you saw her with was one of the nine muses.” “w-what? how did you know?” “i thought it was pretty clear.” “how can you-” “centuries ago, they attended one of the council meetings. the muse you saw her with was the one who did most of the talking.” “i thought muses didn’t involve themselves with the council.” “they don’t, but maybe they had a reason to.”

“that doesn’t mean anything, he could be her lover.” “believe what you want, kid. i’m not going to attempt to convince you otherwise. just don’t sulk about it too much.” with that, maddox walked away, leaving him with his thoughts and a heavy heart.

“are you close with seonghwa hyung?” you laughed, carefully rolling up another scroll and placing it back on the massive shelf in front of you. “what do you mean, woo? i’m close with all of you.” “i know that, but-” “but?” “never mind.” wooyoung mumbled, plopping down on a nearby chair, lips forming a visible pout. you sighed in exasperation, walking over to said sulking male, ruffling his hair affectionately. “what’s wrong, woo?” “nothing, i’m just tired from yesterday evening, i suppose.” “oh, well, why did you come along with me, then? you didn’t have to, i know reading scrolls can be quite a bore.” “i didn’t want to leave you all alone. if something happened to you, seonghwa hyung would have my head.” you smiled, pulling the dance muse into a tight embrace. “wooyoung, that’s very sweet of you, but you know i can handle myself.”

“i know, but if hades-” “he hasn’t come after me yet, and i doubt he will soon. even if he does, he won’t hurt me, at least, not enough to kill me.” “y/n! don’t say that! we wouldn’t be able to live with ourselves if something happened to you.” you felt your heart ache and hugged wooyoung tighter. “i’m sorry for saying that, i just-” “it’s ok, y/n. just promise me that you’ll let us protect you?” you nodded. “i will, i promise.”

“what do you think of y/n?” yeosang asked, quite abruptly at that, and seonghwa felt his eyes widen in shock at the sudden bluntness. “i don’t quite understand the question, yeosang, i-” “just answer it.” “ok, ok, uhm, well, she’s….” the former gestured for seonghwa to continue. “she’s wonderful. she’s very caring, loving, and is very selfless. y/n is always there for us, always.”

yeosang felt guilt rising in his stomach. he hated lying to seonghwa, especially after he now knew that wooyoung was completely wrong about how the older felt about y/n. at least, it was clear to him that she was nothing more than a dear friend, a sister, even. “are you alright?” yeosang snapped out of his thoughts, giving a worried seonghwa a half smile that he hoped was convincing enough. “i’m fine, just exhausted.”

seonghwa’s golden eyes narrowed in suspicion, but he didn’t press further. “i have to go help y/n with something, i’ll see you in the evening?” yeosang managed a brief nod before the former walked off. he sighed, leaning back on the rough bark of a tree behind him. things were definitely going to get even more complicated, and yeosang wasn’t looking forward to it in the slightest.

“don’t you think wooyoung and yeosang are being a little... “ “strange?” “i suppose? wooyoung asked me if i’m close to you.” seonghwa raised an amused eyebrow, carefully rolling up a scroll. “close in what way?” suprisingly, you felt your cheeks flush scarlet. “i-” “as lovers?” “y-yes.”

“ah, well, that is quite amusing.” “is it?” seonghwa nodded, golden eyes twinkling with mirth. “you are not angry?” “why would i be angry? any man would be lucky to have you.” “thank you, hwa.” his expression softened, if that was even possible. you smiled, carefully pulling another scroll from the shelf. “i’ve always loved coming here.” “i know. whenever we visited the town, you would beg us to take you to the library so you could read scrolls.” you blushed. “that must’ve been quite irritating.” seonghwa shook his head. “not at all, it was quite endearing.”

“i’ve always loved stories, even as a child. though i don’t remember much about my parents, i know they always told me them to help me sleep. that is, before they abandoned me.” you didn’t even realize you were crying until strong arms were around you, pulling you into a comforting and tight embrace. “i’m sorry, i don’t know why i’m being so emotional all the time. you must think i’m being dramatic.” seonghwa scoffed. “you are not. i’m the one who should be asking for your forgiveness.” “hwa-” “hear me out, ok? i was the one who suggested we come here, and that was a terrible thing to do, because it surfaced tragic memories of your past. i’m so sorry, darling, i should’ve been more considerate-” “hwa, listen to me. it was not your fault. you didn’t know, and besides, i think it’s important for me to bring the painful memories to light instead of dwelling on them. i’ve been resenting my parents for centuries, and i think it’s time i start trying to forgive them.” seonghwa’s expression softened, as it always seemed to whenever he looked at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “if you need any assistance, i’m here for you, and so are the others.” “i know, thank you, hwa. i really don’t know what i would do without any of you in my life.” “that was extremely cliché, but i’ll let it slide because the feeling is mutual.” “you’re the absolute worst, you know that?” seonghwa laughed, eyes crinkling at the corners. i know, but you love me.” “correction, i tolerate you, there’s a difference.” that earned you a light shove to the shoulder, and you couldn’t help but throw your head back and laugh, feeling lighter than you had been in centuries.

“wooyoung, i really think we should put an end to our bet, i mean, there’s no point anymore.” “why? did seonghwa hyung tell you something? or did you tell him about it?” yeosang sighed in frustration. “i didn’t tell him anything, i just really think it would be best to stop.” wooyoung huffed. “how can you be so sure?” “i just- look, i really don’t think seonghwa hyung loves y/n in a romantic way.” “suit yourself, yeosang, i’m going to prove it.” “do what you want.”

“kid, are you even listening to me?” maddox’s worried voice snapped mingi out of the trance he’d been under, bringing him back to reality. the former sighed. “let’s take a break.” mingi nodded, carefully putting the bow and arrow he’d been holding off to the side, plopping down onto the soft grass beneath him, the blades tickling his bare legs. “are you alright?” maddox asked, his voice unusually soft, as if mingi were a fawn that would run away the instant it heard a loud noise. mingi didn’t reply, just shook his head softly and hugged his knees to his chest, somehow managing to look small and almost vulnerable, despite his bulk.

maddox sighed, settling down beside him on the grass. “i know that sulking over unrequited love is trivial and a little pathetic of me-” “it’s not pathetic. you’re heartbroken, and it’s okay to sulk.” mingi managed a small, grateful smile. “thank you.” “i’ve never felt this way about anyone, and i know that’s cliché, but it’s true. she’s the only girl who doesn’t fawn over me like everyone else, she doesn’t even know about my being a hero or slaying monsters!” “she knows you as mingi, not mingi the hero.” “yes, and that simple fact makes it hurt even more.”

mingi didn’t even realize he was crying until he felt a comforting hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “it’s okay, kid, let it out. i’m sorry for pushing you too hard to train. i didn’t realize you were still grieving.” “stop making it sound as if i’m mourning the loss of a loved one.” mingi scolded, but it was light-hearted.

“i’ll be okay, i just need time.” “take all the time you need, i’ll be here for you if you ever need a shoulder to cry on.” “thank you.” “i’ll likely forget about her, so don’t get your hopes up.” maddox grimaced. he knew that mingi would most definitely not do such a thing, and that he would sulk about her for gods knew how long. i just hope he doesn’t completely fall apart, maddox thought, fighting back tears.

seonghwa hummed softly to himself as he admired the deep purple hyacinths on either side of him, contrasting greatly with the forest green of the grass. the day was perfect, with a light, refreshing breeze tugging at his hair and toga, ruffling the leaves and branches of trees, the sky cloudless and blue, and the sun shining golden beams of light upon the earth. the air was just the right temperature, and seonghwa absolutely adored days like these.

wooyoung, jongho, yeosang, and san had all gone to the town marketplace to find food for supper, and you and hongjoong were in the center of the garden, weaving flower crowns, which left seonghwa by himself for a bit. not that he minded, of course, seonghwa secretly enjoyed it when he got some time for himself, so he can be alone with his thoughts.

while he loved his fellow muses dearly, it could get overwhelming to be around them at times. seonghwa never took the moments he got to himself for granted, for they were rare. seonghwa was so lost in thought that he didn’t notice you settling down on the grass beside him, a hand woven crown of roses on your head. “hwa?” you asked, which made him jump in surprise. “when did you get here?” “about a few seconds ago, why?” “no reason, just, you scared me, is all.” you smiled in amusement. “you’re always so easily startled, huh?” seonghwa felt his face flush scarlet. “weren’t you with hongjoong?” “i was, but he insisted i keep you company.” “i hope i’m not bothering you, you seemed like you wanted to be alone for a while.”

seonghwa nodded sheepishly. “well, one part of that is true.” “which one?” “the second, because you could never bother me.” that earned him a light shove to the shoulder. “when did you get so cheesy?” “i’m the muse of love poetry, cheesy is all i know how to write.” you laughed, and seonghwa ignored the way his heart sped up a bit at the sound. “what were you thinking about?” “you don’t have to tell me, of course, only if you’re willing.” “it’s okay, i wasn’t thinking about anything in particular, actually.” “just daydreaming then?” seonghwa smiled. “perhaps.”

you returned his smile, eyes crinkling at the corners, and the sight made seonghwa’s heart clench painfully. he felt his pulse race as you moved closer to him and laid your head on his shoulder, all the while making sure not to crumple your flower crown. you’d done this many times before, but it never failed to make seonghwa’s heart race. he knew it was pathetic and silly to harbor feelings for someone who would never return them, but he couldn’t help it.

you were kind, loving, the most gorgeous woman he’d ever seen, and whenever you looked at him, it felt like a punch to the gut. he loved the way your expression would brighten when visiting the town library, looking at various scrolls. most off all, he loved how selfless you were, and that you would do anything for the ones you loved.

while it was extremely painful to see you long for someone else, you were at least happy, and that was all that mattered to seonghwa. you deserved someone who would cherish you for the rest of your life, and who would never hurt you.

seonghwa ignored the shiver that ran down his spine as you snuggled closer into his side. as if on impulse, he wrapped an arm around your shoulders, your bare skin warm against his own, and held you tight. “are you alright?” “yes, just a bit exhausted. is it okay if i take a short nap?” “go ahead, i’ll wake you once it’s time for supper.” you shot him a grateful smile, and seconds later, you were fast asleep. seonghwa sighed heavily, resisting the urge to hide his face in his hands to hide the blush that was forming on his face. i need to get ahold of myself, seonghwa thought.

wooyoung hid the smirk that was tugging at his lips as he caught sight of you cuddled up against seonghwa, resting your head on his shoulder. “ what are you doing?” a voice asked, which made wooyoung jump in shock. “san! did you have to sneak up on me like that?” said male rolled his eyes. “i didn’t sneak up on you, you were just too busy staring at seonghwa and y/n that you didn’t notice.” “ are you stalking them or something?” wooyoung huffed in frustration and hit san gently on the shoulder. “i am doing nothing of the sort!” “then, what are you doing?” “i’m observing?” “seriously, woo?” what? just think of it as supervising.” san just sighed in frustration. “you really expect me to believe that? y/n can take care of herself, and seonghwa would rather get thrown into the depths of the underworld than even think of hurting her. what’s the real reason you’re watching them like a creep?” wooyoung sighed. “keep this a secret, okay?” san nodded. though his expression seemed uninterested, his violet eyes were glinting with curiosity. when wooyoung was done explaining, san burst out laughing.

“you think i’m insane, don’t you?” “uh, yeah, i kind of do.” “look, woo, do you really believe that seonghwa hyung is in love with y/n? don’t you think that’s a little… i don’t know, impossible?” “anything is possible, san!” “yes, but not that.” “why? why does everyone think i’m crazy for this?” “wooyoung’s right, san.” they turned and saw hongjoong standing a few feet away, arms crossed over his chest, expression unreadable. “how long have you been standing there?”

hongjoong shrugged. “long enough.” “wait, what? what do you mean i’m right?” “you’re right about seonghwa.” wooyoung let out a small whoop of triumph, while san looked at hongjoong in utter disbelief. “what in tartarus? how do you know that?” “because he told me.” “when?” wooyoung asked, practically beaming. “centuries ago.” “wait, so seonghwa hyung’s liked her for that long?!” hongjoong grimaced. “ah, it’s actually the opposite of that.” “he loves her?!” san blurted, and wooyoung slapped a hand over his mouth. “don’t be so loud! seonghwa hyung’s nearby, he might hear you!” he hissed. “when did you notice?” wooyoung asked, slowly taking his hand off san’s mouth, who glared at him in return. “i thought it was pretty obvious, and honestly, i’m quite surprised no one picked up on it sooner.” “so, when did he tell you?”

“i don’t remember exactly, but i’m pretty sure it was when y/n was in the garden with you guys and seonghwa and i went somewhere to talk in secret. he was extremely anxious.”

(six centuries ago)

hongjoong let out a cry of protest as seonghwa led him into a more secluded part of the garden, anxiety rolling off the latter in waves. the late afternoon sun cast golden beams of light on the soft patches of green grass. the air was crisp and cool, and the weather had never been more perfect. “what’s wrong?” seonghwa hesitated, rocking back and forth on his heels.

“i-i love someone.” hongjoong’s eyes widened. “what?” “i know it’s sudden of me to say something so bold, but i-i know that i love her.” “who is she? do we know her?” seonghwa chuckled, golden eyes shining with an emotion that hongjoong had never seen him express before. “yes, you know her, very well, in fact.” hongjoong furrowed his brows in confusion, thinking about which female in the entirety of athens seonghwa had his heart set on, and suddenly, it clicked. the gentle and soft gazes he’d send your way, the way he’d look at you as if you were the only star in the sky, and the way he handed you a basket of flowers or even a piece of fruit were all telltale signs that seonghwa was irrevocably smitten, and yet hongjoong hadn’t realized it until now.

“i- when did you realize that you loved her?” seonghwa rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, color staining his cheeks. “do you remember that city official that started to insult y/n the day we went to the market?” hongjoong grimaced at the memory. “of course, how could i forget? i was tempted to throw him into the depths of tarturus.” “she defended herself before we could, despite having tears in her eyes. she was so strong, and i admired her for that. i knew that she was not a damsel in distress, and that she was perfectly capable of taking care of herself, but i’ve always felt i need to protect her, to shield her from harm. isn’t that so selfish of me?” seonghwa asked, laughing bitterly. “it’s not selfish, it just shows how much you love her.”

“i suppose. hongjoong, promise me that this will stay between us?” “of course.” hongjoong said, swallowing against the bile in his throat. the smile that seonghwa sent his way afterwards, bright and hopeful, made his stomach churn with guilt.

“that day was the worst, i was going to kill him if someone didn’t stop me.” san hissed, glaring at hongjoong, who rolled his eyes. “i’m sorry i foiled your plans of vengeance, but seonghwa would’ve killed me if anything happened to any of you.” “seonghwa hyung really is in love with y/n.” wooyoung mumbled, looking dazed, as if he had been in a trance. “yes, he is. now, you two have to promise me that this stays between us. seonghwa cannot know that i told you.”

san pursed his lips tightly. “i hate keeping secrets from him.” “i know, but if finds out that i told you this, he will never forgive me, and i can’t live with myself knowing that i hurt seonghwa.” san looked as if he’d rather jump into the river of souls than agree to it, but just sighed and gave hongjoong a small nod. “fine, but don’t make me regret this.”

hongjoong gave the younger a grateful smile.” thank you, san.” “i’ll also keep this from seonghwa hyung, but it’s not going to be easy.” “i know, just try your hardest not to tell him.” wooyoung also looked as if he were going to object, but managed a miniscule nod. “i just hope that no one gets hurt in the end.” hongjoong felt dread pool in his stomach at the thought of seonghwa looking at him with absolute hatred and sadness in his eyes, and forced what he hoped was a convincing smile on his face. “time will tell.”

after the confrontation with san and wooyoung, hongjoong headed to another secluded part of the garden, feeling dazed. he settled onto a soft patch of grass, stretching his legs and basking in the late afternoon sun. though the weather usually lifted hongjoong’s spirits, today, it did nothing to distract him from the immense guilt he felt. he knew it wasn’t his right to tell seonghwa’s secret, but he had just suddenly gotten the urge to, after overhearing wooyoung and san’s conversation. hongjoong sighed, reaching up and rubbing at his temples. he would be doomed if seonghwa ever came to know that his secret had been disclosed, especially since he’d promised all those centuries ago not to tell anyone.

“joong?” a soft voice said, and hongjoong looked up to see you standing over him, an amused smile on your face. “y/n?” “taking a nap?” you asked, settling down beside him, your sky blue robes bright against the green grass. hongjoong shook his head. “no, just thinking.” “about what? you don’t have to tell me, of course, i’m just curious.” “well, honestly, it wasn’t anything important.” you didn’t look too convinced, but didn’t press further, much to hongjoong’s relief. “can i talk to you about something?” “of course, anything.” hongjoong said, immediately sitting up and moving closer to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “what’s troubling you?” you sighed, leaning your head on his shoulder. “it’s seonghwa.” “what about him? is he being an asshole?” you laughed softly. “no, of course not. hwa’s one of the sweetest, gentlest, most patient, loving, and selfless people i know. he doesn’t have a mean bone in his body.”

“then, what’s wrong?” “i- is he in pain?” “what do you mean?” “is he pining for a lost love?” hongjoong felt his stomach coil with nerves. “why do you ask?” “i’ve noticed the way he looks at me, almost as if i remind him of someone who hurt him.” no, it’s because seonghwa’s in love with you, but he’s not saying anything because he knows you will not return his feelings, hongjoong thought sadly. “is he hurting because of me? did i do something?” you sounded so sad, so lost, and hongjoong’s heart ached. “no, of course not. seonghwa’s always been one to wander off into his own thoughts and keep his feelings to himself. he doesn’t want us worrying about him. he’s probably just daydreaming or exhausted.” “i suppose.” you murmured, snuggling deeper into hongjoong’s side. hongjoong forced what he hoped was a convincing smile on his face and held you tighter.

mingi loosed a breath as he let an arrow fly, allowing a small smile when it struck the center of the target. the air was warm but not too humid, and he loved when the sun would shine through the trees, bathing the forest in golden light. it was late afternoon, and he had finally gotten out of bed after a while to train. maddox had had business in town, so that left him alone for the day.

mingi sighed and propped his bow against a tree, practically collapsing onto the soft grass. it’d been a long few days, of which were mainly spent crying until his throat and eyes hurt, or until maddox threatened to throw him into the river if he wouldn’t stop sulking. ever since that day, mingi had been trying his best to heal from the heartbreak he experienced. it was a bit pathetic that he was so devastated over a girl that he barely knew, but in some ways, he felt drawn to you. he felt as if there was something that intrigued him about you, but couldn’t quite name the cause. he supposed that as long as you were happy and that you were being treated well, there was nothing he could do. after all, he was a hero, destined to save athens or whatever fairy-tale shit maddox ranted about constantly, and if you were together, you would be in constant danger. mingi knew he couldn’t live with himself if anyone he loved got hurt or killed, and the image of you being stabbed or becoming lifeless in his arms sent a shudder through his body. mingi closed his eyes and let the tears fall, wondering if he would ever get his so-called “happy ending.”

yunho laid next to wooyoung on the worn blanket seonghwa had found lying around the cottage, and looked up at the night sky, stars glittering like precious jewels. the air was crisp and cool, and he allowed a small smile to tug at his lips. yunho turned his head slightly to see you and san sitting on a patch of soft grass, your head resting on his shoulder. “penny for your thoughts?” wooyoung said, snapping yunho back to reality.

he felt his face flush scarlet at the knowing smirk on wooyoung’s face, and swatted at him with his hand, causing the younger to laugh. “i do not feel that way about y/n, if that’s what you’re thinking.” wooyoung rolled his eyes. “i know you don’t, i was just teasing you.” a comfortable silence settled between them, and yunho sighed, turning his attention back to the stars, mind wandering once again.

dinner had been normal, with the occasional light chatter and wooyoung and san bickering over trivial matters, but the aftermath had been quite strange. san had given wooyoung a look that clearly said ”don’t you dare speak another word or i will throw you into the river” , and the latter had whined in protest, but didn’t say anything else after. yunho had looked at them with utter confusion, wondering what in zeus’ name they’d been arguing about, but didn’t bother to ask.

he just hoped that whatever secret they were keeping wouldn’t cause any conflict.

you sighed, snuggling deeper into san’s side for warmth, and said male wrapped an arm around your shoulders. “tired?” he asked. you nodded, resting your head on his shoulder. “did seonghwa nag you too much today?” he asked, voice light and teasing. you rolled your eyes playfully. “no, he didn’t. today was just a long one, that’s all.” san hummed in agreement, squeezing your shoulder gently, as if in comfort. you shifted so that you were now lying on his lap, and he chuckled softly, playing with the loose strands of your hair. “are you really going to use my lap as a pillow?” “yes, is there a problem?” san shook his head. “of course not, you know i was just teasing.” “san?” “hmm?” “thank you.” “for what, love?” “no reason, i’m just glad you’re in my life.” “when did you get so cheesy? you’ve really been spending way too much time with seonghwa hyung.” you flelt your face flush scarlet. “s-shut up, i’m trying to be sentimental and you’re ruining the moment.” san laughed, patting your head gently. “ok, ok, fine.” you soon fell asleep to san humming softly.

san smiled as you slept, absentmindedly playing with the soft strands of your hair, humming a song he’d heard jongho sing once, and leaned back against the rough bark of the eucalyptus tree that took up one side of the garden, letting his mind wander. dinner had been interesting, and he grimaced as he remembered how wooyoung had nearly let seonghwa’s secret come to light. wooyoung needs to be more cautious, otherwise, seonghwa hyung might never forgive hongjoong hyung for telling us his secret.

it was also where he noticed firsthand that seonghwa was irrevocably and utterly in love with y/n, despite knowing that his feelings would never be returned. san didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed before. it was evident in the way seonghwa would look at you, as if you were the only star in the sky, and even a small gesture as handing you a piece of bread from across the table. his fingers always seemed to brush against yours in such an intimate way that san felt himself blush and look away.

san winced as he recalled the conversation with hongjoong and wooyoung earlier that evening, and his heart ached for seonghwa, whose love was unrequited, and for hongjoong, who had succumbed to the pressure of keeping such a secret that he told him and wooyoung.

he felt as if they didn’t deserve to know, for the secret felt so personal to seonghwa, and san knew that he would be devastated if he knew that hongjoong had told them. holding back tears, san closed his eyes and let sleep take over.

mingi woke to maddox gently shaking him, whispering fervently. he sat up immediately, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “what is it? did something happen?” even in the darkness of the cottage, he could make out the pale and ashen color of maddox’s face, and his stomach coiled with fear. his mentor gulped nervously before replying, his voice barely audible. “hades.” “what?” mingi felt blood rushing to his ears, and he felt himself get out of bed, hastily throwing the thin blankets off of him, reaching for his sword, which had been thrown on a pile of old clothes earlier that night. mingi could feel the nervous tension in the air as he loosed a breath and headed out into the cool night, feeling a shiver course through him. maddox was trailing slowly behind him, footsteps quiet and hesitant.

mingi knew it was extremely foolish to confront hades not properly armed, but at least maddox was with him. now, his mentor wasn’t the strongest or the best fighter, but he could at least try and figure out a way for him to escape unscathed, or at least mingi hoped he could.

the air got thicker with tension as mingi ventured deeper into the forest, ignoring the small voice in the back of his mind, screaming at him to run away. mingi knew that hades was close by, as the scent of death and smoke filled his nostrils as he neared a more secluded part of the forest, which, ironically, happened to be near a field of blooming hyacinths. the sight that beheld him made his heart drop down into his stomach and his blood run cold.

you were laying at hades’ feet, pale blue robes streaked with dirt, curled into yourself, as if bracing for an attack that would hopefully never come. mingi ducked behind a tree, hoping it would somehow obscure him from view. “you’re pathetic.” hades hissed, dark eyes flashing with pure disgust. you groaned, neck straining to look up at the god of the dead, expression full of fury and pure hatred. “i thought i made it clear that my relations with you were over.” you seethed, wiping blood from the corner of your mouth. hades laughed, cold and heartless. “you very aware of my conditions when you signed your soul over to me, and one of them was that you will never be free until you fufill my end of our deal. you seemed so willing all those centuries ago, i wonder what changed? is it because you fell in love?” hades sneered, tone dripping with mock cheerfulness.

you said nothing, clenching your jaw in anger and curling your hand into a fist. hades laughed, the sound hollow and void of emotion. “how touching, you fell in love with the very person you were supposed to lead to his own demise. i assume you want me to spare him?”

you glared at the god of the dead, refusing to show any signs of fear, and mingi’s heart ached at the sight. “no, i very well know that you will kill him anyway, for seeing heroes perish brings you great pleasure.” hades clicked his tongue in mock disappointment. “i’m appalled that such a thought would ever cross your mind.” “you’ll spare him, then? if i request it?” hades scoffed. “you’d be foolish to think that i would ever take a request from such a weak and pathetic woman such as yourself.”

mingi felt a hand grip his shoulder tightly, and didn’t try to resist. “kid, if you go out ther now, you’ll die. hades may be a prick, but he’s powerful, and can most likely turn you into ashes before you can even take a single step.” maddox murmured, voice barely audible, but mingi nodded, a sign that he’d heeded his warning, and the grip on his shoulder loosened.

seonghwa felt his heart shatter at the sight of you crumpled on the ground, pale blue robes dirty and blood-stained, helpless and injured. it took every ounce of self-control for him not to run over to you and wrap you into his arms and hold you. he knew that you would never forgive yourself if something happened to him or the others, and that you would continue to blame yourself for their deaths, no matter what. seonghwa bit back tears as he watched hades sneer and curse at you, hands curling into his white robes, the soft fabric bunching in his grip.

the others were fast asleep at the cottage, and that fact alone made seonghwa’s heart settle, just a bit. seonghwa was glad that they weren’t witnessing the horrific scene before him, for he knew that the sight would be too much to bear.

out of the corner of his eye, he noticed mingi, armed with nothing but a sword, clutching it in his hand tightly, and a shorter man with shoulder length hair was with him, body stiff with tension. it was maddox, who he had seen occasionally at council meetings, quiet but not afraid to speak his mind when needed.

seonghwa felt his blood run cold when mingi finally stepped out of the shadows, with maddox trying and failing to prevent him from being reckless, and held his sword out in front of him, the silver blade glinting in the dark.

hades’ dark eyes shifted towards the newcomer, and the smirk that tugged at the corner of his lips was enough to make seonghwa shudder with fear. “look who decided to join us. if it isn’t the hero himself.” “let her go.” mingi hissed, body tight with tension. hades chuckled darkly. “and why would i do that? what could a mere human like you offer me, a god?” “it’s me you want dead, isn’t it?” seonghwa’s heart dropped into his stomach at the naked fear on your face, and clutched the fabric of his robe tighter. don’t be so reckless, seonghwa wanted to scream, but he knew that if he were in mingi’s position, he would’ve done the same, so he forced himself to stay quiet. “i would take pleasure in seeing your untimely demise, such is true, but what would you give me in return?”

seonghwa racked his brain for a list of possible things mingi could offer to the god, and cursed under his breath when he realized that the only thing the latter could give hades was his soul. “i’ll trade you my soul, but only if you agree to break the contract you have with her.”

hades’ dark eyes flashed dangerously. “you do know what selling your soul to me entails?” mingi nodded. in doing so, i enter a state of servitude, until you decide to give me freedom.”

your eyes widened in horror, and seonghwa watched, heart aching, as you struggled to your feet, unable to stop the tears from streaming down your face. “mingi, do not sacrifice your freedom or your soul for me. i don’t deserve to be saved.” “don’t say such things! you’re brave and selfless and-” “i am not! i’ve been working with hades all this time, trying to find out your weakness so that he may kill you! i don’t deserve to be saved or sought after by someone who is righteous and honest and brave. i-” you broke off at the sight of the confused, angry, and devastated expression on mingi’s face. nearby, hades chuckled darkly.

“i’ll leave you two lovebirds alone, it seems you two have many things to discuss.” hades drawled, tone dripping with mock sympathy. with a flick of his hand and a long, tired sigh, the god of the dead disappeared in a cloud of black smoke. mingi turned his head away, closing his eyes, as if the sight of you was too much for him to bear.

“why?” mingi asked in a soft voice, confused and hurt. “i did not want you to find out this way, especially with hades in our presence. i never meant to hurt you, i-”

“you lied to me?” “yes, but i-” “but you what? thought it would be amusing to lead me on? to rip my heart out?” you visibly flinched at the uncharacteristic coldness in mingi’s voice, and seonghwa gulped nervously.

“please, i can explain-” mingi shook his head, grip tightening on the hilt of his sword. “i never want to see you again, and don’t you ever think for one second that i’m going to come to rescue you from whatever danger you might face. you disgust me.” he snapped, voice as cold and hard as steel. you reached out helplessly as mingi turned on his heels and walked away, not bothering to look back, and that’s when seonghwa couldn’t bear to watch any longer.

seonghwa ran out from his hiding place and pulled you into his arms, rubbing comforting circles on his back and whispering soothing words in your ear. “h-hwa. h-he hates me.” you sobbed, curling your fingers in the fabric of his robes. seonghwa could only hold you tight as you cried into his chest, feeling his heart ache even more.

you returned to the cottage with seonghwa carrying you in his arms, your heart heavy and face tear-stained. your robes were filthy and torn, but seonghwa didn’t seem to mind as he had lifted you into his arms almost immediately, insisting on carrying you home. you felt tears prick your eyes at the sight of hongjoong, san, jongho, wooyoung, yeosang, and yunho standing nervously at the front of the cottage.

san practically tripped over his own feet trying to get to you, stroking your hair back softly as his violet eyes scanned your body, looking for any injuries. “we were all so worried when we woke and realized you and seonghwa hyung were gone. we thought you two had been taken, or killed, or-” “san, i’m so sorry. i’m sorry for worrying everyone. i seem to always cause trouble whenever i’m with you, and i always feel as if i’m a burden.”

“you could never be a burden to us, darling, we just hate seeing you get hurt.” yeosang strode right up to seonghwa, caramel eyes bright with anger. “you let her be injured? you watched as she got hurt and verbally harassed by hades? what kind of friend are you?” he asked, a harsh laugh escaping his mouth. before seonghwa could respond, san stepped forward, violet eyes bright with warning, gripping the comedy muse’s shoulder tightly. “that’s enough, yeosang.”

yeosang pursed his lips tightly, shook san’s hand off him, and stormed into the cottage. “i-i’m so sorry y/n, i should’ve done something-” you shook your head, reaching up and cupping seonghwa’s chin gently so he’d look at you. “none of this is your fault, hwa, and give yeosang time to clear his head, i’m sure he’s just angry because i’m hurt and he needs someone to blame.” “i just hope you two don’t resent me.” you scoffed, shifting so that you were a little more comfortable in seonghwa’s arms. “we will not.”

seonghwa smiled gently down at you as he carried you into the cottage, and you let yourself fall into a deep sleep, the ache in your heart subsiding, just a bit.

mingi buried his face into his pillow, soft sobs wracking his body. maddox sat slumped in a chair nearby, his expression grim. “i’m sorry your first love had to end so tragically, kid.” mingi didn’t reply, only cried harder, feeling as if his heart was going to spill out of his chest.

a/n: i hope you all enjoyed this! i know this was super lengthy and probably sucked, but there will be a part three! i’m not sure of the title yet, but i already have a few ideas in mind :) anyways i love you all and thank you for always supporting me and my mediocre fics lmao

#mine #fic series: iwsil #ateez #will post this on my side as well later!#also i know that the banner has my ateez sb url on it just ignore it lkdjflksdj

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pressedinthepages · 4 years

Text

Vorfreude (Part 2)

Fandom: The Witcher

Pairing: Jaskier x Reader

Word Count: 2369

Rating: E

Series Masterlist

a/n: Reader Request: [I’ve just read your Jaskier x reader story “Vorfreude” and I’ve came to say that it is truly beautifully written, and it’s just a shame that it is hidden in the tags. Can I please request an oneshot where it’s set a few years after the wedding, and they’ve been on their adventures, etc and they finally decide that they want to start a family and they start by having sex. Lots of fluff/smut!! Please and thank you!] absolutely anon! this was super cute and lovey the first time around, so im happy to expand!!! (Here’s the original!)

Tags: @whitewolfandthefox @havenoffandoms @MishaFaye @criminaly-supernatural @queenxxxsupreme @persephonehemingway @hina-chans-stuff

(There is a link on my page where you can be added to my taglist :D)

Warnings: SMUT, discussions of pregnancy, jaskier is gonna be such a dilf, jaskier’s iconic butt bow

Jaskier returns from another adventure, ready to settle at home and create a family.

The flowers in your garden shine under the light of the evening sun, soft colors awash with life. You kneel among them, trimming and pruning stray leaves and weeds from where they pop up from the soil. You hum to yourself as you work, one of the songs that Jaskier wrote but never performs, only sung for you in the comfort of your home.

You rise to your feet, brushing the dirt from your hands on your skirt as you cross to the well that sits at the side of your house. You lower the pail to the ground, quickly plunging your hands into the cool water. As you stand once more, water dripping down your arms as you dry them on your skirt as well, you hear heavy hoofbeats, accompanied by the sound of a lute. Your skirt falls from your hold as you turn with a gasp, watching as several people break through the treeline.

You run to your fence, fingers fumbling with the latch until it relents, opening the gate as you dash through. Jaskier sees you coming and swings his lute across his back, his smile wide as he moves to meet you. He leaves his companions trailing behind him, wind whipping through his chestnut locks as you race into each other’s arms. His arms catch you, wrapping around your waist as he sweeps you off the ground. He spins you, the both of you laughing at the joy of feeling one another once more.

Jaskier sets you back down and pulls you in close, pressing his lips to yours in a deep kiss. You can taste the longing in it, how he quietly moans into your mouth and discreetly digs his nails into your sides as he grips you tighter. You smile into him, running your hands up and down his arms, over his chest, feeling him under your fingers as you confirm that he is truly there in front of you. You hold his face in your hands as you pull back, seeing far beyond the endless pools of love in his eyes.

“Welcome home, dear,” you murmur, resting your foreheads together as his dimples deepen with his grin. You stay like this, breathing each other in, feeling the empty spot in your soul fill back up in Jaskier’s presence. You glance over to the treeline, spotting the silhouette of Geralt and Roach where they wait patiently for an invitation. You huff out a laugh, stepping back from Jaskier as you wave them over.

Grabbing Jaskier’s hand and threading your fingers together, you walk leisurely to the entrance of your home. As you open the door Jaskier spins you back to him with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “May I?”

You roll your eyes, “Love, you do this every time-ah!” Your voice carries into a fit of laughter as Jaskier swiftly bends down and sweeps you into his arms, carrying you once again over the threshold of the home. Your husband is ridiculous, sure, but it is with love that he carries out his rituals. Jaskier sets you down as you hear Geralt and Roach walk up the path to the backyard.

You stoke the fire, throwing some leftover stew into the pot so that it can warm through. Geralt steps through the door, nudging it closed behind him. You see him glance around the room, surveying the little trinkets that adorn the walls and the books on the shelves. He steps towards them, undoing his sheathes and sliding them from his shoulders.

“I see you’ve found some new titles, little magpie,” his voice is low, dark as he runs his thumb over the spines of the books. You smile, grabbing three bowls and filling them generously before placing them on the table.

“Well, Geralt, you’re one to talk,” you tease, “seems you’ve picked up a new traveler.”

A young girl, maybe fourteen, stands huddled in the doorway. She looks exhausted, like she’s been through hell and sees that journey with every blink of her eyes. Her hair is the same hue as Geralt’s, ethereal silver waves framing her young face. Her eyes, though. They are striking, the light green so clear it felt as though you were peering into the waters of Brokilon. They stand out against her pale skin and hair, strength and pride shining through your humble home.

“Ah yes, darling, terribly sorry,” Jaskier stands from his place at the table, bending low in a gesture to the young woman, “This is Princess Cirilla Fiona Elen Riannon, rightful heir to the throne of Cintra. And this, Princess, is the love of my life.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, moving to bend in a low curtsy. “Forgive me, Princess, I did not know of your identity.” You glare over at Jaskier, who has now settled back at the table and is shoveling his mouth full of stew.

“Oh, please, do call me Ciri.” Her voice rings through your cottage, crisp with a life in court, but sweet around the edges of the words. You rise up, extending your hand to invite her to the table. She moves further in, looking over at Geralt before sitting across from Jaskier. Geralt comes over to the table too, one of your books tucked in his arm as he takes the spot next to her. You watch as she leans into his side, clearly relaxing just from his proximity. You catch Jaskier’s eye and give him a look, one that implies that he will be having a lot of explaining to do later.

Good thing he’s a bard.

…

“...So, now that she’s safe, Geralt is going to bring her up to Kaer Morhen. The other witchers are going to help for a while, probably Yennefer too.”

You’ve been pretty silent as Jaskier weaves the story, soaking in the tragic tale of the Last Rose of Cintra. Your home is far enough north that you still feel safe, but the threat of Nilfgaard looms overhead, an unavoidable disaster if ever there was one.

“Ciri’s been with Geralt for a couple of months now, and by the gods they are picked from the same tree. She’s stubborn as a mule, vicious with the words that she cares to share, but she’s still a sweet young girl underneath. She’s been through so much, I feel like I’d be a right ass if I went through half of what she has…” Jaskier sits next to you on the bed, taking your hand in his as he finally falls silent. Your heart breaks for the princess, just imagining her curled up on your extra bed in the attic, Geralt meditating at her feet.

“You know what this means though?” Jaskier squeezes your hand. You hum, looking over at him as you wait for an answer. “It means, darling, I’ll get to stay here, with you…” He nuzzles into your neck, pulling you tight against him. You can’t help the broad smile that pulls at your lips, thrilled with the prospect of having Jaskier here all the time.

Well, maybe not all the time...even you have your limits with how much *restless bard energy* you can take. Hopefully one of the taverns will strike a deal with him to perform regularly...

His lips pull your attention back, kissing a line down your neck and over your shoulder as he slides the sleeve of your shirt down your arm. You undo the laces down the front, slipping the soft fabric off and letting it fall to the floor. Jaskier kisses hot, wet marks along your bare chest, his hands roving and squeezing and pulling little needy noises from the back of your throat.

“Jaskier,” you breathe, “since you’re staying, we should-we should have our family.” Jaskier’s head is resting right over your stomach, and you feel the way that his lips turn up against your skin before rising. He sets his hands on either side of your face, his wedding ring cool on your cheek.

“Are you sure, love? You think we’re ready for that?” You can hear the waver in his voice despite his obvious excitement as he searches your eyes, his thumb lightly running over your cheek. You set your hands on his waist, pulling him to straddle your legs.

“I’m not sure that we’ll ever be ready, but I think that it would be silly to wait any longer.” You can’t deny your own nervousness as well, but it is far outweighed by the raging urge to keep Jaskier, his heart, his soul, all of him, and let him know the joy that a loving family can bring.

“Now, take this damn shirt off,” you murmur into his neck, nipping lightly at his collarbone where it peeks from under the chemise. Jaskier shakes with laughter, swiftly pulling the shirt over his head as you run your hands over his body. You’ve missed this, the feeling of his skin under your fingers.

Every time that he comes back home, you have to relearn each other a bit. But it’s a good thing that you’ve always been a quick study.

Jaskier cups the back of your head as he leans down, taking your lips in his as he licks into your mouth with fervor. He hums as he moves against you, ever the performer with his still-clothed erection pressing into your hip. You reach around, finding the little bow on his trousers at the small of his back.

“These pants are ridiculous,” you huff, undoing the tie and pulling at the now loose garment.

“Not ridiculous!” Jaskier gasps incredulously, “They are perfectly suited to traveling and they are comfortable, plus,” he waggles his eyebrows a bit as he stands from your grasp, “they keep me wrapped up like a little present, just for you.”

You shake your head with a smile, watching as he slides them down along with his underclothes. You’ve lain with him gods know how many times, but the sight of Jaskier bare, in all of his glory, still sends you reeling, your fingers itching to stroke, pull, pinch, touch your husband.

Jaskier sways towards you, pulling you to stand with him as he undoes the buttons at the side of your skirt. Ever practical, he yanks both it and your underclothes down in one fluid motion. He leaves them pooled on the floor as he slowly climbs back up your form, kissing up your legs and lingering at your core before standing to his full height.

“Fuck, I’ve missed you,” he whispers, holding you close, as if worried you’d disappear if he strayed too far from your reach. You kiss him then, your lips fitting together as if molded from the same block of clay. You fall backward onto the bed, pulling him so that he hovers over you.

Jaskier’s fingers dance down your body, light touches leaving goosebumps in their wake as he finds your core. Your legs open as he runs his fingers along your slit, letting his thumb rub slow, gentle circles on the peak of your core as he slides a finger inside of you. You curl into his touch, desperate for anything he chooses to give you.

His lips move on your neck, worrying a mark into the same spot that he always chooses when he returns home. As he plunges another finger into your cunt you moan, almost a growl with impatience. Heat flushes through you relentlessly, waves breaking on the shore in a storm of pleasure.

“Jaskier,” you gasp, your fingers digging into his hips. He is especially lean when he first returns to you, but you know that he will grow just a little bit softer with the comfort of your love. “Please, I need you,”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he teases, running the tip of his cock through your folds before slowly pushing inside of you. Your back arches into him, the fill of him so familiar yet unique, as if you were truly made for each other by the gods.

Jaskier moves quickly, clearly just as pent up as you are as he thrusts into you. He hits deep with every snap of his hips, your impending pleasure building faster and faster under his touch. One of his hands grips your hip, digging into the soft flesh. His other finds your own hand, threading his fingers with yours as he fucks into you. Jaskier’s head still rests in the crook of your neck, the damp ends of his hair tickling you as he moves.

“Gods, love,” he whispers between breaths, “I always try to remember just how good you feel, but it is never the same…”

His hips start to falter, quickening as you hook your ankles around his back and pull him closer. His thumb returns to your core, circling the peak of your pleasure as he finds the spot inside of you that makes you see stars. Jaskier hits it again and again and again, sending you plummeting into the high of your orgasm. You cry out his name as your hips cant unconsciously with him, squeezing his hand in your own hard enough to turn your knuckles white.

Jaskier loses himself then, his hips stuttering before stilling deep in your cunt, his cock throbbing with his release. You feel his spend swirl inside of you, hot and thick as it mingles with your own slick.

You hold him close, keeping him where he lays atop of you. “Stay, for a moment,” you murmur, running your hands through his hair as he catches his breath. Jaskier does, staying inside of you as he shifts his weight, rolling onto his side and pulling you with him. He peppers kisses all over your face, drenching you in his adoration.

“Maybe I can convince Geralt to build us a crib before he leaves,” he whispers, holding you lightly as he carefully slides himself out of your core. You whimper a bit at the emptiness, but a comfortable bliss envelops you as your breathing deepens. Your hand rests over Jaskier’s heart, the feeling of it beating under your fingertips and Jaskier humming another one of his private songs lulling you into the grasp of sleep.

#jaskier x reader #smut #happy bard times #butt bow #pregnancy discussions

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jace-todd · 4 years

Text

Hahaha I wrote a todoshin story. @bakushinsquad newest post. Yeah here's my crappy story.

Really, he knew that something like this was bound to happen. He had heard all about Endeavor’s shitty behavior towards his family from late nights with Shouto, the other curled up around him, tears still spilling down his face from a nightmare. He’s heard of all the times that Endeavor was too hard on Shouto or his brother, Touya, who had been considered dead for a while now. He had heard all about the quirk marriage, about what his mother had done to him, about where his mother was currently. He had heard about how Shouto’s sister, Fuyumi, was the only one who had a semi-decent relationship with their father. He had heard about Shouto’s brother, Natsuo, was the most aggressive towards their father, having outright arguments and being downright petty.

Shinsou knew it all, having gained Shouto’s trust after the many nights he comforted the dual-quirked boy after nightmares. Shouto had seemed to let it all out after hearing about one of Shinsou’s bad exploits with a father figure in his life. And for that, Shinsou would always have a sense of protectiveness over the kid.

Growing up, Shinsou was almost always the one protecting others. From bullies, teachers, foster parents, and even himself. It was second nature to him, something he didn’t even think twice about despite his usual think before you act attitude. When it came to saving others, he wouldn’t think twice about his own health, which had gotten him plenty of injuries and a decent number of scars.

Maybe it stemmed from trying to make up for all of the wrongs he had never done but everyone thought he’s done. Maybe it stemmed from his heroic desire, the longing in him to help people because no one deserves to go through what he’s going through, or has gone through. Or maybe it stemmed from something else, from his own stupid belief that maybe he deserved it. Deserved the pain that came from jumping in front of his little siblings when their foster father or mother raised their hands or moving them out of the way before a quirk hit.

He knew that ever since Shouto had confided in him that if Endeavor ever showed his face and intended to hurt Shouto, he would get in the way. Shouto didn’t deserve the pain from his father, no one did. And there was no way in hell, Shinsou was going to let Endeavor hurt him anymore.

And as expected, when it finally happened, he did jump in front of Shouto.

They had been working on hand-to-hand combat, Shouto paired against Uraraka, while Shinsou had been paired against Kaminari. It wasn’t a fair fight, but then again no one would’ve had a fair fight against him, other than maybe Ojiro, but they weren’t paired together after an incident. Shinsou had been taught to fight hand-to-hand since he was a kid, his criminal parents wanting him to know how to stand his ground, while the fights in the streets had wanted to underdog to win the fighting rings when he was 11. Shinsou had just wiped the floor with Kaminari again when the figure descended onto campus.

Shouto had gone stiff, arms falling to his side, and eyes watching his father land and start his walk towards Shouto. Aizawa hadn’t been paying attention, his back to the commotion, trying to deal with Bakugou and Midoriya who were arguing again. The rest of the class either continued fighting, glancing occasionally over, or stopped altogether.

Shinsou had helped Kaminari back up before starting his way over. He couldn’t tell what was being said between the duo, but he could tell that whatever Shouto was saying wasn’t pleasing his father. Endeavor was progressively getting angrier, his voice rising some, enough so that Shinsou could start to hear him, but blocked out the voice when he saw Endeavor start to raise his hand.

Logically, he knew that Endeavor wouldn’t hit Shouto in a public setting, especially not in front of heroes to come who had a decent amount of sway already, and another hero who was also respected. But that protective feeling consumed him and Shinsou using the capture device around his neck to swing closer, using a tree to swing around the rest of the way and land perfectly in front of Shouto.

Both Todoroki’s seemed surprised to see the hero student drop down between them, the conversation stopping. Shouto lifted a hand to rest on Shinsou’s shoulder, pushing some, “Hi-Shinsou, what are you doing?” He could hear Shouto’s own protective-instinct kicking in but ignored it as he stared directly into Endeavor’s eyes.

“Todoroki go get Aizawa. I’m going to have a talk with your father.” Shinsou held his ground, still holding the capture device at the ready.

Shinsou could hear Shouto begin to argue, but when he glanced behind him, his eyes soften and he gave a small smile, “Please.”

Reluctantly, Shouto let go of Shinsou’s shoulder, backing up before racing towards where Aizawa was holding Bakugou with the capture device, the blond acting feral again. Shinsou followed him with his eyes before turning back to the adult in front of him, finding a comfort in the fact that he was only a few inches shorter than the hero since his latest growth spurt.

Endeavor looked piss, and Shinsou wondered if there was steam coming out of his ears. Shinsou held his own ground as Endeavor lowered his arms to cross them over his chest. Just as Endeavor was about to speak, a word already leaving him, Shinsou cut him off.

“Don’t say anything. You’re going to listen to him, Mr. Number-One-Hero. You’re a shit person, father, and husband, forcing a woman to marry you to have kids that would be strong, then taking the childhood away from those kids. You isolated them from one another, trained them to exhaustion, traumatizing all of them. When your wife had a meltdown, you set her into a mental institution, because you know you couldn’t control her anymore and she hurt your masterpiece. But your masterpiece is a kid, was a kid when she hurt him. You never treated him like a kid. You only care about being famous, about being adored, about the money and title. He’s an emotionally screwed kid, estranged from reality and his siblings, because of you.

“You can’t afford a scandal, so you made sure that Shouto wouldn’t speak up about it. You got the cops to admit that Touya was assumed dead after just a day. You keep Natsuo silent, pulling the card of your connections of knowing the boss of his school. You are kind to Fuyumi, maybe because if Shouto does turn into your definition of a failure, you’re hoping you can turn her into a hero. Yeah, I know what her quirk is. You still try to control your kids, control Shouto and what he wants to do now.”

Shinsou channeled all he could remember from how his father acted when dealing with subordinates, the strength and firmness in his voice, the pure anger in his eyes. He was tired of Endeavor’s shit, and he knew that someone else needed to put Endeavor in his place alongside the siblings, someone who may not have hero connections, but had villain connections. He hated having the connections that he did have, but at times like this… he wouldn’t be afraid of pulling some of those strings and get Endeavor into more trouble.

“Here’s what’s going to happen, Endeavor. You’re going to keep your distance from your kids, you’re going to leave Fuyumi to her job, you’re going to stop holding Natsuo’s education as a hostage, and you’re going to let Shouto be who he wants to be. Or so help me, I’ll expose everything about you, Endeavor. I may just be a second-year hero in training, but I’m not afraid to lose everything I’ve worked for to get your ass thrown in jail. Leave, Endeavor. You’re unwelcome here.”

Endeavor looked beyond angry now, lifting a flaming hand out to Shinsou, as if to get him to shut up or get rid of his anger. “Who the hell do you think you are, speaking to me like that?”

Shinsou smirked, “I’m Shinsou Hitoshi, nice to meet you.”

Behind him, he could hear some laughter, meaning that they had a crowd watching him. He could sense Aizawa’s presence behind him, along with Shouto’s. Aizawa looked between the two, before facing Endeavor.

“He’s right, Endeavor. You’re not welcome here without valid reason to be. Take your leave. Now.” Aizawa’s voice was firm, quirk activated and the fire around Endeavor faded.

As expected, Endeavor opened his mouth to argue back but realizing that all the kids seemed to be against him, that Aizawa was prepared to fight him, that he had lost this battle. He stepped back, anger still clear in his eyes. He searched the ground for his son, finding him already standing next to the purple kid who had gone after him.

“This isn’t over, Shouto. You’ll realize you need me, that my quirk is the better.”

Shouto shook his head, “No, father. It’s over. I’m done with you.”

With that, Endeavor took his leave, scorch marks filling the ground as he flew off. Shinsou was still tense as the rest of the kids stood around. They were all making sure Shouto was okay, praising the other for telling him no, etc. Shinsou was still standing tall, staring at Endeavor’s retreating figure. Aizawa’s hand found its way to his shoulder, startling from his trance.

Aizawa gave him a soft smile, “I’m proud of you, Shinsou, for sticking it to Endeavor and for protecting your friend.”

Shinsou gave him a smile, turning back to where Shouto was being embraced by the Dekusquad. Shouto peered over Iida’s shoulder, their eyes connecting for a moment, but that was all it took for Shouto to mouth ‘thank you’ at him before Shinsou looked away.

The rest of class got canceled, with Aizawa sending the students back to the dorm so he could deal with Endeavor’s appearance. Shinsou had hung back to catch his breath, everything that had just happened setting in like it always did.

He had thought he was alone when he slumped against the tree, pulling his legs to his chest, and laying his head against them, eyes sliding close. But when a hand fell to his hair, he was proven wrong. The familiar warm hand kept him from tensing though, only leaning more into the hold as he lifted his head to look at his boyfriend.

Shouto was kneeling in front of Shinsou’s spot, a smile on his face. The younger boy looked more at ease than he ever had after a visit from his father, which made Shinsou immensely happy. Shinsou lowered his legs, sitting cross-legged as he waited for Shouto to do something. And something he did, as the minute Shouto removed his hand from Shinsou’s hair, he launched onto the taller, hugging him tightly.

Shinsou’s arms came around Shouto’s waist, hugging him back. They sat like that for a while, Shouto in his lap, arms around one another, enjoying the other’s presence, before Shouto pulled away.

Shinsou flinched when Shouto flicked his forehead, “That was really stupid, Hitoshi. Something could’ve happened. He could’ve hurt you. My father has a short temper sometimes, especially when people challenge him like that. Never do that again.” Then he surged forward and kissed Hitoshi softly, causing the other to chuckle. “Also thank you, that was very sweet of you to protect me like that even though you know damn well I can hold my own.”

Shinsou placed his forehead against Shouto’s, staring into the mix-matching eyes. “I’d take a hit for you, any day, Shouto. Plus, someone had to stand up to him. I was tired of him being a little prick. Someone needed to put him into his place.” There was a pause before Shinsou looked away. “I didn’t want you to get hurt by him again.”

Shouto pressed another kiss to his lips, earning a content hum from the other, before pulling away. “I would take a hit for you, as well, Hitoshi. You’re lucky I love you so much.”

Shinsou beamed at the declaration, holding him closer. “I love you, too, Shouto. And I meant when I said, if he bothers you or your family like that again, let me know. I’ll make his life a living hell.”

Laughter from the other filled the area as Shouto rearranged so the two could lean fully against the tree. Things weren’t okay, but they were getting better. It was more bearable with the other by their side. With interlaced hands, Shinsou knew that Shouto would be okay from now on, that the other was reassured that he wasn’t alone anymore in this fight against his father. Now he had some friends and a boyfriend to fight with him.

#hannah's writing #shinsou hitoshi #todoroki shouto #todoroki enji #i've never posted my writing here #first time writing todoroki #its baddddd #i tried #it was supposed to be more angsty and more like...#centered on enji but then... soft #yeah #my hero academia #todoshin

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holidaywishes · 4 years

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It Had To Be You XXXVIII

Chapter Thirty Eight: Sad Song

Summary: Fast forward six months and the new Preseason is just about to start. After a rough playoff loss, Tyler wants this season to be better and he has some ideas on how to make everything go smoothly.

Warning: I guess because this song is so cheesy and sweet, there’s going to be a lot of fluff in this chapter, this one’s also got a few time jumps as well.

Author’s Note: I don’t really know where I’m going with this series anymore. I think I’m trying to stretch it out to 50 chapters but it all depends on how I’m feeling obviously. Just know that I have a thing with odd numbers. That is to say, I will only end on an even number or a multiple of 5 (45, 50, 55, etc.) But this one will be another short chapter (and I’ll admit this is really not my favourite) but I’ll probably put two out back to back since I have something in my head and I’m literally not doing anything else, so why not? Anyway, I hope you like whatever comes from the rest of this series, ENJOY!

P.S. This chapter took a little longer than I thought it would but I have some clearer ideas of what the next like four-ish chapters are going to be so that’s exciting.

P.P.S. I wanted to update the timeline because this chapter has a lot of time jumps as did the last chapter. So here’s a quick recap of the whole series:

Part I: September 2013

Part II: November 2013

Part III: January 2015

Parts IV and V: May-June 2015

Part VI: June 2015/January 2016

Part VII: January 2016/June 2016/November 2016

Part VIII: November 2016

Part IX: December 2016

Part X: January 2017

Part XI: February-August 2017

Part XII: September-November 2017

Part XIII: mid-November-December 2017

Part XIV: January-February 2018

Part XV: March-April 2018

Part XVI: April-June 2018

Part XVII: July 2018

Part XVIII: July-November 2018

Parts XIX, XX and XXI: December 2018

Parts XXII: December-January 2019

Part XXIII, XXIV, XXV and XXVI: January 2019

Part XXVII: late January-March 2019

Parts XXVIII and XXIX: March 2019

Part XXX: late-March/April-May 2019

Part XXXI: May-November 2019

Part XXXII: January 2020

Part XXXIII: late January 2020

Parts XXXIV and XXXV: August 2020

Part XXXVI: October-Early November 2020

Part XXXVII: March 2021

Part XXXVIII (this chapter): July/September 2021/January 2022 (yup I did that)

Song Credit: Sad Song -- We the Kings & Elena Coats

masterlist

the other masterlist

After the whole quarantine last year, and the season being cancelled, Tyler wanted the next to be better but after being knocked out in the first round he wasn’t in the best mood for a few months. He spent every waking minute training during the summer, except for his seemingly annual trip to the Bahama’s with the guys.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come?” he asked when you said you’d stay behind and watch the dogs

“I’ve gotta work,” you replied, pushing yourself up to wrap your arms around his neck and press your lips to his, “plus, I think you need some time with your boys to let loose. As long as you don’t let loose too much...”

“Don’t worry, babe,” he replied, pecking your lips between words, “we’ll really just be playing a lot of golf. You know how it goes..” You sent him off with one last kiss and sent him an ‘I love you’ text before he got on the plane. You felt completely secure with Tyler lately but maybe that had to do with the fact that two of you had survived four months in self-isolation together. Whatever it was, you weren’t nervous about spending a week away from each other.

Tyler’s week away proved to be just what he needed to get his spirits up but as soon as he was back in Dallas, the two of you decided to head up to Brampton to see his family but it was over just as quickly as it began and it was time for the preseason to start. It was a pretty easy start to the season with the Stars winning 7 of their 8 preseason games which left Tyler with a huge grin on his face and he told you he was very positive for the rest of the city.

“I have a good feeling about this season, you know?” he said, rinsing the dishes as you washed down the counter, “I feel like this could be our year.”

“I think you guys are looking good out there but--” Tyler put his finger in front of your mouth to stop you from continuing

“Don’t jinx it. We’re looking good and we’ll continue to look good because we’re in this for the long run.” He said, raising his eyebrows intensely so you got his point and you just smiled before nodding and walking away. You were happy he was so confident about the season especially after everything that happened and seeing him so excited made you excited for the season.

“Hey, Ty,” you called from the couch, “you’re turning 30 in January. How do you want to celebrate?”

“That’s a while from now, I haven’t thought about it..”

“Well think about it!” you laughed, “I know the season will be like in ‘full swing’ or whatever, but maybe we can do something during Bye Week? It’s a big year you know?”

“Yeah, another year older..” he sighed and slumped next to you on the couch, “I’m getting to be an oldie. I’ll be vintage soon...”

“Oh stop,” you nudged, “vintage? I have a hard time thinking you’ll ever be vintage. It’s just a birthday. If you don’t want to celebrate it, we don’t have to. But I’ll have you know, men get sexier as they age.” you said, moving towards him to kiss his neck, “It’s actually very annoying.” He kissed you back

“I’ll think about it,” he smiled and you tucked yourself into his side, “but for right now, let’s figure out something to watch.” As the two of you settled in and started some action movie you were sure you wouldn’t pay attention to, you caught yourself looking up at Tyler for the billionth time, “what?” he laughed

“What?” you responded

“I can feel you staring at me,” he continued, still not returning your gaze, “do I have something on my face?”

“No,” you smiled, “I just like looking at you.” When he finally looked at you, your stomach filled with butterflies and you felt the need to bury your head in his chest; looking back up at him just in time to see his smile stretch across his face.

“I like looking at you too.” He said, leaning his head down to capture your lips in a soft kiss. You reveled in it for a minute before finally saying anything

“I’ll never get tired of that” you giggled and he smiled against your lips before continuing to kiss you.

Tyler’s P.O.V

You hated that you couldn’t be with (Y/N) and the dogs on your birthday again this year, especially because things seemed to be going so well, so you figured out a way for her to be with you in

“Boston?” she said, a hint of confusion in her voice over the phone

“That’s where we’ll be on my birthday,” you replied, “there are some great spots though.”

“I went once,” she said, nonchalantly, “it was beautiful. But I mean.. Bruins fans run rampant” she laughed and you knew then that she would meet you there.

“So you’ll be there?” you asked

“If I get to see you, I’ll be wherever you ask.” You could hear her smile over the phone and your smile grew in return

“Good,” you laughed, “I’ll see you in a couple days. Love you”

“Love you, too.” You ended the call only to turn around to your teammates waiting to chirp you

“Ooooh, Tyler and (Y/N) sittin’ in a tree,” they started, “k-i-s-s-i-n-g, first comes love, then comes marr--”

“Alright, alright. That’s enough guys.” They laughed and you smiled as you found your way back to your seat beside Rads and Jamie.

“She’s coming to spend your birthday with you? That’s sweet” Jamie said

“Well...” you hesitated, “I’m thinking of proposing to her!”

“On your birthday?” Jamie asked and Rads gave you a sideways glance

“Yeah...” you answered, “I mean we’ll already be out to dinner and I love her, so..”

“You think you’re ready?” Rads asked and you took a second to answer

“Yeah”

“What if she says no? Then your birthday is like forever tainted by that” Jamie challenged

“It’s still my birthday, it won’t be tainted. Forever.”

“She’s a great girl and you seem really happy with her,” Rads interrupted, “I like her and I like her for you. But just make sure, if you feel weird about it, don’t do it.” You took a second to think about what he was saying but you couldn’t stop thinking about how she’d be in that moment and what the rest of your life would look like with her.

“Thanks Rads,” you finally said, “it’s alright though. I want her in my lie forever. I can’t imagine a day without her there.”

You showed up at the Boston airport and waited for instructions from Tyler when he sent you a text with directions to his hotel

“Am I suppose to get my own room or find my way to yours?” you replied as you got into the cab and told the driver the address

“Don’t worry, I got you a room but it’s close to mine” he said

“Sounds good, it’s under my name?”

“Yes. I’m heading to practice, so I won’t be there when you check in but I’ll call you when I’m out. I made reservations at 6 so you’ll have to be ready”

“What kind of place is it? What if I didn’t pack anything fancy?”

“I have something for you. I’m always prepared”

“Well you’re lucky. I figured you might do something like this so I brought a dress”

“Thinking ahead, I like it” he joked and you rolled your eyes

“I have to or you’ll get me something wayyyy too revealing”

“The amount of revealing it would be is debatable.” You let him go after that by sending him an eye roll GIF and he sent back a laughing emoji. A couple hours later, you started getting ready for whatever Tyler had planned, deciding whether you should curl or straighten your hair when he called you

“Hey babe,” he said happily, “you almost ready? I’m just about to jump in the shower so I wanted to check in”

“I’m almost ready. I’ll be ready by the time you’re out of the shower so I could meet you in yo-”

“NO” he blurted out, “I want to pick you up.”

“Fine,” you laughed, “I’ll be ready soon. Go take your shower, I love you.”

Tyler’s P.O.V.

You finished getting ready, making sure to do a quick pep talk to yourself in the mirror.

“You got this dude. You love her, she loves you.” You smiled and made sure you had everything you needed, careful not to forget the ring, and headed over to (Y/N)’s room.

“Just a second!” she called after you knocked on her door, fidgeting with your suit jacket while you waited. When she opened the door, your mouth dropped at the sight of her in a beautiful blue dress and she smiled before spinning around for you to get a complete look at the outfit, “what do you think?”

“You look.. stunning,” you smiled, “guess it’s a good thing I didn’t pack anything for you isn’t it?” She smiled to herself, shaking her head as she grabbed her purse. The two of you laughed and she took your hand as the two of you headed to the car.

“What do you have planned?” she asked as she put on some music

“A nice dinner, I’ll take you to some of my favourite places in the city,” you said, intertwining your fingers with hers to kiss the back of her head, “nothing too crazy.” She smiled at you and tried, the whole way to the restaurant, to guess where you were taking her or what you were planning. You pulled up in front of the restaurant and a valet opened her door

“Oooh,” you smiled as you heard her speak to the valet, “isn’t this fancy?” You met her on the sidewalk, thanking the valet and tipping him before taking (Y/N)’s hand to go inside. When she sat down, she browsed the menu and you tried not to give away how nervous you were about what you had planned for later in the night.

“Anything look good?” you asked about the menu

“Still looking..” she smiled. You ordered her favourite drink when the server came by to grab your orders, “ahh I get it” she said as the server left

“What?” you said suddenly

“You’re trying to be ‘the big man’ tonight. Coming to a fancy restaurant with valets, ordering my favourite drink,” she smiled and you let out a sigh, “who you trynna impress, Seguin?”

“Only you,” you answered, “always you.” The rest of the meal was filled with smiles from both of you; you watched as her eyes lit up when she talked about her job, her smile shine when you talked about how you felt about the team and the way the season was going and listened to her laugh that you couldn’t imagine not hearing everyday. You kept Rads’ words in the back of your head though, ‘just make sure, if you feel weird about it, don’t do it.’

“Would you like a dessert menu?” the server asked when he noticed there was a break in the conversation. You were prepared for her to say no, or to defer to you, but instead she said yes and that was the moment you knew she was comfortable with you. It was a small moment, a small thing, but it made everything so much clearer. You paid the bill and thanked the staff, guiding (Y/N) out to the car by placing your hand on the small of her back. You took her to the aquarium and watched her eyes follow the fish and tried to catch her as she chased the manta rays before eventually stopping in front of the shark tank.

“We may be slightly overdressed for this place” you laughed, noticing the stares the two of you were getting

“Do you ever wonder what they’re thinking?” she said, completely ignoring your statement

“What?” you asked

“Like are they sad? Do they know where they are? Do they wonder where their friends are? Or their families? Do they like it here? Are they happy?” You smiled at her thought process, “did you know that Sharks adapt to fit their environment? So like if there was a Great White Shark here, it would only grow to fit comfortably in the tank but in the ocean it would grow much bigger. That’s why you hear of like 30ft sharks.” She finished, eyebrows raised when she looked at you and you smiled while your eyes danced between hers.

“Is any of that actually true?” you asked and she smiled at you

“I don’t know,” she confessed, “it could be. It sounds like it should be, doesn’t it?” She grabbed your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours and continued walking, “and,” she added, “who cares if we’re overdressed.” She winked at you, as if to say ‘I’m always paying attention,’ and you shared the smile that she gave you. There was one last place you wanted to go before it got dark and it was the perfect spot for the proposal. A park with a beautiful river running through and a clear view of the Boston skyline. Sure, it was public but it wasn’t overly crowded so it had just enough of people for (Y/N) to have at least one picture of the proposal without feeling overwhelmed.

“Wow, Ty,” she said lightly, “this place is beautiful. Thank you for bringing me here.” She smiled at you and, with her hair blowing in the wind and the sun beginning to set, you knew it was the perfect time.

“(Y/N),” Tyler said when your back was turned, “I need to get this out so don’t say anything until I’m finished okay?” You giggled at his statement but slowly turned around to face him, surprised when you saw him on one knee

“Ty, what are you doing?” you said

“I love you,” he started and your eyes grew wide, “ When we first met, I was so focused on being the best for Dallas, to start fresh after Boston, that you were just some girl. I didn’t think of you really that way, until I saw you with James; I just wanted to see you happy because you deserved that, I just hated that it had to be with him. But now here we are, having chosen each other after all the crap we’ve been through. Together and apart. I know we’ve had some rough times but you’ve always been the person I want to be with. The one I want to wake up next to. Every time we’re apart, whether I’m on the road or your visiting Chris in Calgary, I feel like I’m missing something because I am. You. You’re my favourite part of me and I can’t imagine a day without you. (Y/N) (Y/M/N) (Y/L/N), will you marry me?” You stood in front of Tyler for a few minutes, in a state of shock that left you silent when you noticed a few people start to huddle around you and Tyler, who hadn’t moved at all

“Yes” you whispered, a smile starting to grow on your face

“What?” he said jokingly, a smile dancing on his lips

“Of course I’ll marry you!” you exclaimed and he slid the ring on your finger before picking you up and kissing you, you breaking the kiss only to laugh at the round of applause the two of you got. He put you down and waved to the crowd as you buried yourself in his chest out of embarrassment.

“I love you”

“I love you too,” you said, tucking yourself into his side while the two of you continued to walk through the park, “I can’t believe you actually proposed.”

“Why?” he asked, in fake shock

“I don’t know.. I guess I just never thought you were the marrying kind” you admitted

“I wasn’t,” he said, kissing the top of your head, “until you.”

“Well, happy birthday Mr. Seguin” you joked

“Thank you,” he replied, “and thank you for saying ‘yes’ on my birthday. The guys were convinced that if you said no it would’ve tainted the day forever”

“I’m surprised you did it on your birthday. I mean, the guys are right. It’s a risk.” You laughed and he shrugged his shoulders

“It was worth it.”

#Tyler Seguin #It Had To be You #it had to be you series #Tyler Seguin imagine #tyler seguin series #masterlist #the other masterlist #no idea when or how this will end anymore #i had an idea but now i don't #i guess that's how it goes #prepare for some short chapters #after this one obviously

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psycheswritings · 5 years

Text

Nothing’s Fair in Love and War - Seven

Title: Nothing’s Fair in Love and War Fandom: Peaky Blinders Pairing: Thomas Shelby x Daphne Scott (OFC) Warnings: Swearing, mentions of blood, injuries and medical procedures that I know little about. Word Count: 4337 Author's Note: Hello my lovelies. Hope you all are doing fine. Here is another piece of Thomas and Daphne’s story, hope you all enjoy it. Thanks for taking some time to read it and let me some love. Your feedback is always appreciated. Tags are at the end of the chapter, let me know if you want to be added. Also, please, let me know what you think of it, this one was a tough one to write. I think I did a hundred versions of it.

Disclaimer: All publicly recognizable characters, settings, etc. are the property of their respective owners. The original characters and plot are the property of the author of this story. The author is in no way associated with the owners, creators, or producers of any previously copyrighted material. No copyright infringement is intended.

Chapter Summary: It's the week of Jane's wedding and the preparations are in full swing. This includes a very educative visit to the dressmaker and some tea with the bride and her closest friends. The three eldest Shelby's get into a fight in London and end up being patched up by an unexpected friend.

Masterlist

Seven

After the war Daphne had pretty much lost faith in a lot of things. God was one of them, because she really couldn’t believe that a loving God would let all these bad things happen to innocent people. No, if there was a God he didn’t give a damn about them so it was only fair that she would treat him with the same kindness. But she still knew all the things she had learned growing up like as a good catholic girl and that came in handy when she had to help Jane plan the details of the ceremony.

The both of them had just left the church and were going to the dressmaker to meet Harriet so they could try on their dresses for the wedding. Jane’s and Charles’s mothers had stayed behind because they wanted to confess, so they would meet for tea later. Yet, even with all the rush that the last week before Jane’s wedding had brought to her life, Daphne’s mind was still replaying Polly’s words in a chant: “Love is a good thing but sometimes it can blind us…”.

“Look, if it it’s not my favorite girls!” Harriet hugged Jane first and then Daphne before leading both women inside the shop.

“You waiting long for us?” The blonde asked, while they both took of their coats, gloves and hats.

“No, just arrived. How it was at the church?” Harriet sat at one of the loveseats, observing the two other women.

“Everything’s settled, just waiting for the big day.” The happiness radiating from Jane was infecting but it did little to stop Daphne’s mind to wander. When the dressmaker came to get Jane, leaving the two other women alone, Harriet was quick to point it out.

“Are you alright, Daph? You seem distracted.” The courtesan patted the empty space beside her, the other woman exhaled loudly before sitting down. “Tell me.”

“It’s nothing important.” She answered not certain who she was trying to convince - herself or her friend.

“Well, it’s important enough to have you all distracted on the week of one of your best friend's wedding, so it’s obviously more important than you are letting on.”

“I… don’t want to talk about it around Jane.” The youngest Weston had been her friend since they came back from France and William had introduced her to the whole family. Jane was a really good friend but it still made Daphne feel strange to talk about her feelings for another man when they both knew all too well how William felt about her.

“It’s about Thomas, isn’t it?” Her hazel eyes said all that the other woman needed to know. “Okay, but you must know that Jane is your friend, above all. She has a good head on her shoulders, she will know how to deal with that.”

“I know, I know. It’s just...” The sentence hang in the air because Jane entered the room again, dressed in all white, veil upon her face looking pretty much like an angel.

“What do you think?” She asked, shyly.

“Beautiful.” The brunettes answered in unison, getting up to see her up close. Harriet’s next comment lightened up the mood in the room.

“My God, Charles will have a hard time getting this out of you on your wedding night.”

“HARRIET!” The blonde blushed profusely making the other two laugh.

“Oh, don’t start that. You’re not a nun. Might as well know what to expect on your wedding night.” When Jane said nothing, staring at the ground the courtesan let her mouth hang open. “Unless… Don’t tell me that you and Charles have been sneaking around before your wedding day?” The blonde tried to skip the subject, but Harriet was having none of it.

“It was just one time!”

“Oh what I would give to know what William would do after knowing that his best friend is fucking his little sister before their wedding.” Daphne laughed out loud at the same time that Jane protested.

“Considering that they are to get married, he should expect that this would come sooner or later.”

“Ok, can you two stop?” Despite her tone, Jane was laughing with the two other women. Daphne went to help Jane out of her dress at the same time that the dressmaker was doing the necessary adjusts on Harriet’s dress.

“How is it?” The courtesan asked when the two others came back to the room to find her in her outfit. The deep purple of the fabric was a good match to her skin tone and the shaping only accentuated her curves.

“Well, I wish I had a body like that to use a dress like this.” Harriet rolled her eyes at Jane’s words but the tree of them were laughing in no time. Daphne was next in line, going to put on her dress that had been chosen by Jane. Harriet rushed to help her tie the knot on the base of her neck, seizing the opportunity to lean her head onto Daphne’s shoulder, smiling at her through the mirror.

“You will give everyone a heart attack.” Daphne slapped her hand playfully and Jane came to join them.

“The most beautiful maid of honor that London had ever seen.” And even if she denied it, the only opinion that mattered for Daphne was of a certain Brummie gangster that she was not even sure if it would show up at the event.

*******************************************************************************************

Jane could be described as the perfect high class daughter that any wealth family in London would love to have - she dressed and carried herself like a lady, was polite, kind and had that air of innocence that enchanted everyone. However, she was also very much her brother’s sister - behind the sweet, kind and innocent face of the upper class lady you will find a very astute, intelligent and wise young woman. So it wasn’t all that surprising that she had caught on the tension in the conversation after they had returned from the dressmaker and sat down at the drawing room of her parent’s house to drink tea while they waited for her mother and mother-in-law.

“Ok. You two are certainly trying to hide something from me. Spill it.” Harriet and Daphne exchanged a glance at each other, knowing very well that their friend was also very stubborn, just like her brother, and wouldn’t give up that easy on the subject.

“It’s nothing you have to worry about.” The blonde just laughed at Harriet’s dismissal.

“Yeah, certainly nothing for me to worry about when my maid of honor is acting strange for the past half month and neither of you said anything to me.” Both caught in the act, Daphne was the one to break the silence.

“It’s problems with the business, Alfie have been acting strange and I just didn’t wanted you to worry because you had enough in your plate with the wedding plans.”

“The wedding plans you’ve been helping me with?” Her question was rhetorical and very much accusatory. “We are friends, aren’t we?”

“Of course that we are.” There wasn’t any doubts from Daphne’s part on that matter.

“Then you have to tell me the things that are bothering you so I can help, like you help me all the time.” Harriet gave Daphne that look she had perfected over the years of their friendship, the look that Daphne hatted the most - the ‘I told you so’ look. She let out a heavy breath, sinking into her chair, head resting on the backrest.

“Alfie’s been acting strange in the past few months. I think he’s hiding something from me and I don’t like it one bit.” She said, stretching her arm to take her cup of tea and take a sip.

“Maybe this has something to do with how his new business part is showing interest in you?” Daphne almost shocked on her tea, immediately sitting straight while Harriet bend over herself in laughter.

“Where did you get that from?” Jane just rolled her eyes at the question.

“Daph, I maybe be younger than you but I’m not stupid. I’ve seen the guy one time but the way he looks at you is… certainly not showing professional interest.”

“I’ve been telling her this for ages.” Harriet quipped in, nonchalantly, bitting a biscuit and receiving a death glare from Daphne.

“When will I hear the end of it?” Sighing and sinking back to her previous position, Daphne closed her eyes, one of her hands resting on her forehead.

“When you admit that you are attracted to him too.” The courtesan spoke again, making Jane look at her with wide eyes.

“I knew it was a good idea inviting him for the wedding.”

“WHAT?!” This time both Daphne and Harriet looked at the blond in disbelief while Jane’s face showed that she was very much proud of herself.

“Well, I might have suggested to invite him after I’ve noticed his interest in Daphne, it was worth a try to make her loosen up a bit.”

“My God, deflowered before her wedding night and making plans for her single friend right under my nose - who are you and what have you done with my sweet, kind Jane?” The bride to be threw a napkin at Harriet, that promptly caught it before it hit her face, both falling into laughter. Daphne was still too surprised to even talk. Jane rearranged herself in her chair, to face her, leaning into her direction.

“I understand that you must find it strange to talk to me about your romantic life because of William and I won’t lie and say that I wouldn’t like if you two ended up together, because I would love having you as my sister, but I am your friend, Daph. I want you to be happy, it doesn’t matter if it will be with my brother or not.”

“I know.” Daphne’s voice was low and she felt almost embarrassed for having thought any different about the subject. She knew that Jane was her friend just as much as Harriet.

“Well, do you like him?” There was a mischievous smile on Jane’s face as she asked the question, the same question that Daphne had been asking herself since her birthday party, after her little encounter with the Brummie gangster.

“I… it’s… complicated.”

“When has love ever been simple?” Silence filled the room for a moment, Harriet’s words sinking in, before Daphne spoke again.

“We barely know each other outside of business, how can I love him?”

“I fell in love with Charles when I was nine and didn’t even knew what love was, I’m pretty sure knowing people isn’t a required thing to fall in love with then.”

“Although it is very much needed if you want to maintain it, but that is another thing.” Harriet complemented, sipping her tea. “And what do you say about me, former war nurse, owner of a brothel, fell in love with the big bad gangster that everybody runs from.” Daphne’s features softened at her friends confession - it wasn’t that often that Harriet opened up about her feelings towards Alfie, even though she knew about then all along.

“I don’t love him.” Yet, Daphne wanted to add, but refrained herself from it - they were being bad enough without that information.

“Sure thing, honey, and I am the Queen of England.” The courtesan said, rolling her eyes. Daphne sighed.

“I can’t love him.”

“Why? And for the love of God, don’t say to me that it is because of Alfie because I will personally fight him if I have too in order for you to be happy.” Harriet’s words echoed in Daphne’s mind: why? Why she couldn’t love Tommy? It wasn’t because he was a gangster, because the first thing that she had done after coming back from France was start to work with one. Maybe it was because she believed in Polly’s words, that love could blind people. At the end, she didn’t had an answer for the question.

*******************************************************************************************

It wasn’t the first and, unfortunately for Ada, it wouldn’t be the last time that her brother’s came barging into her house looking for a safe place to patch up their wounds while in London. That was the reason why she wasn’t surprised at all by the scene in front of her - her three older brothers, all with some different kind of injury, alongside Jeremiah Jesus and and his son, Isaiah, bunched up on her kitchen.

“Unbelievable.” She exclaimed, making all of them turn and look at her.

“Hey, sis. Would you mind giving us a hand?” Besides Jeremiah and his son who were clearly not hurt, Arthur was probably the one who was less injured, despite having blood all over his face as a result of the cut into his eyebrow.

“I came all the way to London to get myself free of you bunch and even like that I don’t have a minute of peace!” Ada threw her purse onto the counter and starter to gather water and towels. Her brothers were ready to protest about her complaints but they all fell silent by the presence of another woman at the door. Daphne stood there, holding Karl on her arms, quite surprised by the scene.

“James.” She called, turning around so Karl wouldn’t see too much of the messy state his uncles were in right at the moment. They heard footsteps and soon the young writer appeared in their line of sight. “Can you please take Karl upstairs for a moment? I have to help Ada.” He just nodded and she passed the sleepy boy to his arms, not without a series of complaints of the little boy who wanted to stay with her.

“Daphne? What are you doing here?” Tommy was sitting in one of the chairs, being held by his elder brother and a young boy that Daphne didn’t recognized, there was a man with brown skin and dreadlocks poking at the wound on his right arm. John was behind them, leaning on the table and holding his shoulder.

“Clearly interrupting the fun. If you keep doing that you will only push the bullet further.” Besides Tommy, who knew because of Ada that she was a nurse, the other man looked at her confused. “No offense intended. May I?” She was already rolling up her sleeves and walking to the sink to wash her hands, the man looked at Tommy waiting for an answer and the gangster just nodded. He got up from his own chair and held it for her, but she dismissed it.

“This is Jeremiah Jesus and his son Isaiah.”

“Pleasure to meet you, Miss.” The older man - Jeremiah - said to her while taking a step back to get close to John. The boy, who was behind Tommy nodded his head in her direction. Daphne smiled to them, before getting closer to Tommy to take a look at the wound. Her touch was light and precise but it still made him hiss in pain. It certainly wasn’t the worst thing that she had seen but the bullet was still there and had to be removed. Tommy’s blue eyes searched for hers and she looked down at him.

“You think you will do better than him?” It was John’s voice asking. Daphne looked up to answer him.

“Well, considering I’m a trained nurse, yeah, I believe so.” There was a hint of surprise on their faces and then Arthur talked.

“Thank God.” He received a not so light slap from his younger sister. “What, everybody know you wouldn’t be of much help.”

“Next time you get into a fight and have to patch up your wounds don’t come to me.” Daphne smiled, turning her attention back to Tommy who was still observing her.

“I will have to take out the bullet.” He nodded at her and she turned to Ada. “Do you have medical supplies?”

“Yeah, I will go take it. Be right back.” She turned to leave the place quickly. Daphne tied her hair and washed her hands again before Ada entered the kitchen again. “Here.”

“Thank you.” She started searching for the things she needed, it seemed like a million years since the last time she had done something like this. At the bakery she took care of some of the minor wounds of their men but the bigger things were always treated by a doctor, so it had been a while since she had to take care of a bullet wound. “Do I want to know what happened?”

“Just a little disagreement.” Tommy answered her while observing her prepare things.

“Little disagreement?” She was mocking him, he could tell but didn’t said anything.

“It was always like this back home. They don’t know how to stay out of trouble.” Ada talked, putting a bow with warm water on the table and going back to lean onto the sink. Daphne took the tweezers, poured some alcohol in it and got closer to Tommy who looked at her a little unsure for the first time.

“Scared?” He licked his lips, blue eyes searching for hers.

“Just worried about that training of yours.” She smiled before answering him.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be gentle.” Focused on the task on hand, Daphne didn’t notice how close they both were - she was standing in front of him, one of his legs between hers, his hand brushing the inside of her knee. He groaned in pain when she started to search for the bullet, the other man flinching with him, but it only took a minute for her to get it out.

“Well, that was quick.” It was Ada who commented.

“I have a lot of practice.” Daphne started cleaning the wound what made Tommy hiss in pain again. “It will need a few stitches, you better bite this, it will help.” She took one of the towels and folded, holding it for him to bite. The gangster only shook his head.

“No need.” Daphne rolled her eyes, still holding the towel in front of him.

“You are about to get a bunch of stitches in an open wound without any kind of anesthetic, the only thing you will get from being stubborn will be breaking your teeth.” They stared at each other for a moment, while John and Arthur exchanged a glance with Ada, then Tommy exhaled loudly and murmured something under his breath before biting the towel. Daphne only smiled, taking the needle and the seam, and starting to suture the injury. When she finished it, she dressed the wound and took a step back - Tommy immediately missed the heat of her body closer to his. “As good as new.”

“Thanks.” Her told her, getting up from the chair, Arthur throwed a jacket on him before he leaned onto the table beside John.

“Arthur.” Daphne called him and the eldest Shelby sat down onto the chair. She held his face between her hands, searching for other injuries besides the most obvious one. When she noticed that he had none more, she did the same thing she had done with Tommy - folding a towel and giving it for him to bite, the only difference was that he didn’t complain about it. Daphne cleaned and stitched him, he thanked her and then she looked at John who didn’t seemed all too eager to get patched up. “Do you need a special invitation?” Arthur, Ada, Jeremiah and Isaiah laughed out loud and she could swear that Tommy was trying to hold back a smile.

“It’s nothing serious, I can handle it till we get back home.”

“This is all fear of me? Seriously? After I stitched both of your brothers?” She was riling him up so he would to what she wanted without noticing - John didn’t take the hint, but Tommy and Ada did.

“‘m not afraid of you!” Daphne raised and eyebrow.

“Sure not.”

“Bloody hell!” He exclaimed before sitting down at the chair in front of her, making her smile to herself.

“Dislocated shoulder?” She asked while touching his shoulder gently.

“I think so.” He grunted at the discomfort.

“Ok, so tell me, why were you so afraid of me?”

“I wasn’t…” John had no time to finish the sentence before he screamed in pain and Daphne could hear the faint “pop” of his bones coming back into place.

“See, nothing to worry about.” She smiled at him, turning to take some bandages. “Take of your shirt.”

“Wow, wow. Why do you want to take off my shirt, sweetheart.” Daphne rolled her eyes at the flirtatious tone.

“Don’t flatter yourself, there’s nothing here that I haven’t seen before.” The others laughed again and Arthur was the one to mock him.

“You should watch your tongue around that one. She’s smarter than all of us together.” John just shook his head but took off his shirt for her to put his arm on a sling.

“All done.” Daphne helped him put on his shirt again the best she could with the sling, then started to clean up the mess on Ada’s kitchen.

“Come on, you can take some rest upstairs. Karl might want to see you, anyway.” The man started following her out of the kitchen, except for Tommy who didn’t moved a muscle. She looked at him questionably and he just dismissed her with a shake of his head. Daphne had her back turned to them, cleaning things in the sink, so she missed the warning glare that Ada gave to Tommy before she left.

“Our Ada had mentioned you had medical training.” His voice startled her and she turned around to face him. He was shirtless still, she hadn’t really registered it before, too lost into the rush of adrenaline that made her jump into action. “Didn’t know if it was true or not.”

“It is.” She answered clearly avoiding the real question behind his inquiry, drying her hands in one of the towels. Ada entered the kitchen with a shirt and an undershirt on her hands.

“I picked these from James, think they will fit you. It’s better than your blood stained ones.” She put the clothes on the table and looked at Daphne and then back at her brother. “Are you going to stay the night?”

“No. We have to go back home today.” The siblings looked at each other for a moment before Ada turned to Daphne.

“I’m sorry for dragging you into this mess.”

“Don’t beat yourself over it. It’s not like I don’t know how this life works.” There was a moment of silence before Ada’s name was called from upstairs.

“Bloody hell! Can I have a moment of peace?” She shouted back and turning to face Daphne. “I will see what they want. You will be fine?”

“Yeah, I will just sort this things and see myself out. There are some things that I need to do at the bakery.”

“Ok.” The Shelby sister walked to her friend and hugged her. “See you next week?”

“Yeah, you can count on that.” Then she left the room again, ignoring the fact that Tommy still didn’t moved from his spot near the table. When the two were alone again he looked at her direction just to see Daphne approaching him, pointing at the clothes on the table. “You want help with that?”

“Sure.” He answered after a moment, she took the undershirt that had been tossed on the table and passed the collar through his head, folding the sleeves so it was easier for him to slip it through his arms. Daphne saw the smirk on his face when she unbuckled his belt to stick the fabric into his pants, but he made no comment on the matter after she gave him a warning glare. Then she took the shirt and he turned around, his back to her so she could slide it up his arms. Then he turned around to face her again, they were as close as they had been at the day of her party. She ignore his stare while buttoning the shirt and tucking it into his pants like she had done with the undershirt and then buckling his belt. When she took his good arm to button his sleeve he pulled her into his body, making her let out a gasp and look into his eyes. “Are we ignoring this thing between us?”

“There is no thing between us.” Daphne could swear she could get lost into the blue of his eyes that only seemed more alluring this close but she had to hold her ground. Indulging herself for a moment, she rested her hands onto his chest, weary of his injured arm. He smelled different than he did at the day of the party - she recognized all too well the scent of cooper from the blood mixed with gunpowder but there was this other thing that she couldn’t quite distinguish, it was something that just reminded of him.

“No?” He brushed his nose on hers and observed as her eyes fluttered shut just for a second before she opened them again to look straight at him. There was something in this woman, something that drawed him to her. “Keep telling yourself that, love.”

“Tommy, Ada asked…” Thomas just closed his eyes, his forehead leaning against Daphne’s while he took a deep breath to restrain himself of lashing out on Arthur, who had stopped in his tracks a few feet away from them, and looked a little unsure about what to do. Ada, of course his sister would have done something like that to protect her friend from him. “Huh, I’m sorry, brother, Daph. I will go back upstairs.”

“There’s no need, Arthur.” Daphne called, making him stop at the kitchen’s door. She looked at Tommy as she talked, just before disengaging herself from his embrace. “We are finished here.” And then with a last glance at Tommy, she left and at that moment he knew that things were just getting complicated.

Tags: @stressedandbandobessed7771

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinderes fanfic #peaky blinders imagine #thomas shelby fanfiction #thomas shelby fanfic #thomas shelby #thomas shelby x ofc #thomas shelby x oc #tommy shelby fanfiction #tommy shelby fanfic #tommy shelby imagine #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x ofc #tommy shelby x oc #thomas shelby imagine #my writings #psycheswritings #nothing's fair in love and war

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aspiestvmusings · 5 years

Text

TMS S3: GROUP A

THE MASKED SINGER SEASON 3 GROUP A/ GROUP 1: (contestants 1 - 6)

EP 3x01: CLUES & MORE: RECAP for remaining 5:

SPOILERS BELOW!!!

KANGAROO

CLUES:

Location: Outdoors: “Australia”

Location: Next to a /in a yard of a “peach coloured” building with arch/vault-style architecture

VISUAL CLUES:

Sign: OUTBACK (with the U being in the shape of horseshoe)

Sign: Yellow “road sign” with an arrow pointing down (”spiraling down”)

MIB as papparazzi/press following her - taking pics, media attention (for “the wrong reasons”)

Gramophone on a tree branch

Boxing bag - the kangaroo boxing/hitting the boxing bag

Jump rope - the kangaroo jumping over a jump rope (made of a vine...held by MIB)

AUDIO CLUES/VOICE OVER:

”Like most of you watching, I’m a survivor.”

“I recently lost a person, who held my familys heart together. Then, by my own admission, I found myself in the spotlight for all the wrong reasons.”

“But I’m here to do what kangaroos do best - bounce back.”

“I have to fight for my family. And show them that bullies never win.”

“I am beyond terrified - I’ve never done anything like this before. But I’m not about to lose the chance to realize the dream I’ve always had.”

“To all the survivors out there -- This one’s for you.”

ON STAGE CLUES:

Song choice: “Dancing on My Own” by Robyn

Look/Costume: The kangaroo has a pouch (indicates female), but also has a red/silver boxing outfit & gloves (indicates male). Outfit colours: red & silver. Important: there is a crown on the back of her robe.

Stage: hexagon-shaped mirrors (5 of them) surrounding her/behind her [if my other guess is correct, then that stage design is a “clue”]

Height: Tall-ish...almost the same height as host Nick. A bit shorter, around 175cm, probably.

Mic hand: Right

Talking: “One of my greatest fears is being vulnerable. And this year I’ve had no other option than to be vulnerable. But...with this kangaroo costume I feel like I can get my superpowers back.” + [breathes in/sighs heavily before the song starts]

GUESSES:

I HAVE NO NAMES OF MY OWN. -- I thought she was this certain female artist, because the voice kinda seemed familair (sounded like hers to me), but none of the clues and other things seemed to fit. And after checking the clues it seems to confirm it cannot be her, cause nothing matches. Also... to me she doesn’t sound like any of the singers I thoughts she could be based on the clues, so... I havent actually figured her out...

I think people online are correct, and it’s a certain “reality star” (gramophone = reference to her dad being a sound engineer on a well-known past TV show) Though I am considering a few more options - mostly other reality stars/youtubers/family members of celebs... particularily one name. If my guess here is correct, then just like Llama, she would have a connection to a previous TMS contestant...but since I am not that familiar with her singing voice, I cannot be sure. But she has lost family members in the past few years, she has been in a media scandal, and you can even explain the australia thing kinda... so...until I hear more of her, I’ve got one name mainly in mind. But I wont name it until I’ve heard her sing at least once more.

POSSIBLE MEANING OF CLUES.

Survivor = the title of a “Destiny’s Child” hit song

Lost a family member recently = either her family member (parent, grandparent?) died or they parted ways (were cut ouf of each others lives)

Gramophone = possibly a reference to a Grammy nomination/win. Or just music/sound/audio

Outback = possible connection to Australia

“spiraling down” road sign + papparazzi following her = she’s been in a media scandal “recently”

Crown = King/Queen

LLAMA

CLUES:

Location: Radio station/Mixing studio - mixing console (close up)

Location: Pottery making “class”

VISUAL CLUES:

Mixing console - close up of a studio/radio station mixing console

23.3 The Wool (name of the radio station/show)

Red lightbulb in the studio

Photo of a bull (the animal)

Playing cards: Ace of Spaces & Jack of Spades). Two black suit cards showing (Jack Black)

Sounds of Seattle - title of a vinyl album

Romancing a llama: pottery

AUDIO CLUES/VOICE OVER:

"Mi-Mi-Mi-Mi-Mix it up!”

“Good morning, Nerd herd! You’re listening to The Wool. Where we’re all cool. No Bull.”

“I’m here for one reason only - to have a laugh. And what’s funnier than a Llama? (laughs at his own joke)”

“You may call me a joker. But I’d like to get serious for a minute. The song I’m singing tonight is my favourite track for celebrating love with that... special someone. There’s nothing like being swept up by it’s deep, profound lyrics. It’s a tune that really gets me in the mood for romance. I can’t wait to sing it for you tonight.”

“Llama out!”

ON STAGE CLUES:

Song choice: “She Bangs” by Ricky Martin

Look/Costume: Dressed as a tourist - “hawaiian” style shirt,, photo camera around his neck. Llamas tongue out of his mounth, on the side.

Height: he is around 180cm - about the same height as host Nick (their shoulders are on about the same height)

Mic hand: Left

Talking: “umm.. This whole costume just spoke to me... My vibe... I wear digs like this in real life.” (answering the question about his costume & it’s looks)

GUESSES:

Drew Carey (TV host/comedian/actor...)

POSSIBLE MEANING OF CLUES.

23.3 Wool = His show (The Drew Carey Show) had, during it’s 9-season long run, a total of 233 episodes.

Photo canera prop = His hobby is photography. Actually, it’s more than just a hobby - he has been accredited press photographer during many (sports) events.

Radio = He was a radio operator during the time he served in the Marine Corps. Also..he’s hosted a radio show (radio DJ) during his later career

Red light in the room = photography reference. In the DarkRoom red light is used when developing photo film/photographs.

Buddha figurine (Dalai Lama/Llama joke) = He is a buddhist.

Joker = he is a joker aka comedian

Seattle = He is the co-owner of a Seattle Football Club.

Playing cards = He took part in the celebrity poker game in 2003, where he did better than Jack Black did (played against Jack Black)

Nerd herd = He did take part in Zack levis (Chuck) “Nerd herd” lightsaber race one time at a Comic-Con convention.

Nerd herd = his show (DCS) & character were/was about nerds/was a nerd

Llama’s side tongue = early in his stand-up comedy days he had a joke with a side-tie (it looked visually very similar to what the llama’s tongue looks like - he just added some wires & tape to do “the trick” of swinging the tie to the side)

BONUS: He knows last years winner, “The Fox Mask” - they did “Whose Line is it Anyway” together, so... connection...

SPOILER ALERT: Llama is the mask who will be voted off next - in ep 2 (on Wed, Feb 5th). But while his voice might not be as trained as some other contestants, I loved his stage energy, and the comedy/fun he brought! One more song coming from him! And no, I am not sharing some secret info - they “accidentally” revealed the first two contestants, who get unmasked, so it’s been revealed by the network...for those, who notice small details...

MISS MONSTER

CLUES:

Location: Lady’s restroom/bathroom. The moster getting ready (coming hair, applying hairspray...)

Location: school hallway - lockers

VISUAL CLUES:

Sign: (image) ladies restroom

Itmes on the counter in bathroom/dressing room: Furspray (hairsray) can, pink bottle of some beauty product, three crystals (stones), a piece of sequin fabric

Key/Keychain: a single (old style) key with a keychain that says “FUN” #FUN #KEY = FUNKY = “QUEEN OF FUNK”

Purple furry diary/good luck charm/cosmetics bag/pencil box (with a face + kitty ears & unicorn horn) + a glittery pen

Lockers: Lockers numbered 10 (the ones she opens) & 11 (the one next to it)...with no other lockers having numbers on them

Miss Monster Locker: filled with images of S1 Monster, scrapbook flowers..etc...

Piece of paper on the locker door: Monster Hits.

Photograph of a cityscape (skyline with many skyscrapers) on the locker door [if I could only see the image better to know which city it is on it, that’d be one more clue]

AUDIO CLUES/VOICE OVER:

“When you become famous, people want you to look or act in a certain way. They forget that you started off as just a shy little monster.”

“It didn’t take long for me to be misunderstood. So I’m here to set the record straight. Just like my favourite creature in Season 1 did. The Monster. He made me feel. He re-wrote his story. It was fire!"

“And now this performer in pink wants to follow in his furry footsteps, But darlings... I’m nervous. Will you still love me without knowing my name?”

ON STAGE CLUES:

Song choice: “Something to Talk about” by Bonnie Raitt

Look/Costume: pink & purple/violet furry costume with a bowtie

Height: she is short-ish (shorter than host Nick). She looks very short (barely 5 feet - more Dolly P. height 152cm than Chaka K height 162cm)

Mic hand: Right

Talking: NO ON-STAGE TALKING!

GUESSES:

Chaka Khan

Dolly Parton (since the total number of Grammy noms that the 18 contestants have in combined in 69 & Robot as the first revealed one has had 24-25 of them, that leaves only 44-45 for everyone else, that rules out this person, because she alone has had 46 nominations...compared to C. Khan’s 22 noms)

POSSIBLE MEANING OF CLUES.

Number 10 = She has 10 Grammy Awards/wins. (interestinly: both D. Parton & C. Khan have 10 Grammy wins!)

Monster Hits = she has had (many) hit songs during her career

He made me feel = She has a song by the title “I Feel You” (1984 hit)

It was fire = She has a song by the title “Through the Fire” (1985)

Will you love me - that is (word for word) the title of of her her hit songs, “Will You Love Me?” (2007)

It was fire = She wrote the hit song “Fule to the Flame” (1967 hit) for Skeeter Davis.

Will you still love me? = She has/wrote a song titled “I will always love you”

Furspray/Hairsray = he was/is known for her big hair/haircut (managing that probably takes lots of hairspray)

FUN = FUN(K) #FUN KEY [FUN:KI] - she’s kinda the “queen of funk” (one of her albums is titled “FUNk This” (btw: Pun intended by her!)

TURTLE

CLUES

Location: school’s track & field event (Balzano Track Field) - contestants getting ready to run. The slow turtle surrounded by fast bunnies, all preparing for the event. [Slow & steady (turtle) wins the race]

Location: Schools track & field event - BANG! The race begings. The three other contestants (MIB as bunnies - wearing pink bunny ears - starting the race with a head start, all jumping on their blue bouncy balls)

VISUAL CLUES:

Turtle vs bunnies

BANG! in comic style - to mark the start of the race

The others (three bunnies) bouncing on blue balls whe n the race begins

Surf board - the turtle poliching/cleaning his poink & blue surf board

Pins on the track...popping the blue jumpy balls

Grilling burgers on an (outside) grill...on the track field.

Turtle crossing the finish line first (bunnies just going in circles, being stopped by pins on the way, or other reasons), as he has time to do other things & take it slowly, and then still get there first...with a burger in hand & winning the golden medal.

AUDIO CLUES/VOICE OVER:

"At the starting-line of my career I was surrounded by other hungry new-comers. It felt like everyone around me was fighting tooth-and-nail for the dream. And I watched as many of those stars burned too brightly, too quickly, and then fizzled down”

“I’m a turtle, because I’m always taking it step-by-step.”

“Slow and steady wins the race. But now I feel like I’m ready to break out of my shell. After years of preparation I would love to make a big splash. So I don’t want anyone to cross that finish line before me.”

ON STAGE CLUES:

Song choice: “Kiss from a Rose” by Seal

Look/Costume: Punk/Rock-style, dressed in leather (pants, jacket), has a spike (hair)

Height: Short-ish (shorter than host Nick) - seems around 175cm. Small in size.

Mic hand: Right

Talking: “It’s hot. It’s really hot. And it’s heavy!” (when answering how doesn it feel to be in that costume and perform in it)

GUESSES

Jesse McCartney

Joey McIntyre PS. I tried connecting the voice to any boy-bands (of 1990s & 2000s), but I coukdnt. Even after some “research” - listening to each possible candidate...and IMO it’s none of them. The voices dont match, the heights doesn’t match---But it did sound like someone, who for me was a one-hit-wonder. Yeah, I only know that one song (and one more) from him... but voice seemed familiar.

POSSIBLE MEANING OF CLUES:

Surf board = that he is a surfer; that he is from Cali/Australia/somewhere which is known as being popular among surfers; that he has won Teen Choice Award(s) (this award in in the shape of a surfboard)

being surrounded by other new-comers at the start of his career = either he got his start through a (singing) competition and was one of many contestants fighting for the win AND/OR he got his start in a “boy-band” and was one of the youngsters looking for fame...

Surf board = Teen Choice Awards - winning several TCAs for his first/biggest hit song/album in 2005, and more. And he’s played a surfer character on a TV show

BSB references/connection - he was the opening act in 2005 for BSB during the European part of the tour.

Dream = he started in a boy-band with the name “Dream Street”

on stage presence/body language (movements) = very similar to J.M.

WHITE TIGER

CLUES:

Location: Football field. Tiger striking a power/winners pose.

Location: School hallway, lockers. Tiger walking in, shoving everyone out of his way.

Locatrion: School library (sitting behind a table, with his legs on the table)

Location: School hallway, lockers. MIB trying to get him to audition for TMS. MIB (fans) taking selfies with him.

VISUAL CLUES:

Golden plate/sign with text: Ultimate champion for clam shucking: 51 clams” (next to a golden clam shell)

Sign/ad on the wall: “Masked Singer tryouts 5/3.” + images of three past masks included: Eagle, Lion & Raven. Plus the text: “Hurry. Not for long" also written on it.

Sign on the all with images of past US presidents, including Abe Lincolns & the text/quote “Four Score and Seven Years Ago...”

The TMS golden mask throphee shown next to the lockers (as Tiger says “let’s party!”)

AUDIO CLUES/VOICEOVER:

“Ready to meet your next champion? My entire life I’ve sought out perfection, so choosing a mask with unlimited power like the White Tiger was a no-brainer.”

“I’ve had a giant career full of accomplishments. But when I imagine being on stage (and) singing, I’m a big old scared cat.*

“It’s been a while since I did something that scared me, so I’m here to concour yet anither challenge.”

“What’s my motivation? My fans! I don’t wanna let them down."

“So now I’m ready to get in that ring and smash the competition.”

“Let’s party!”

ON STAGE CLUES:

Song choice “Ice Ice Baby” by Vanilla Ice

Look/Costume: Dressed in “Egyptian style"

Height: very tall & big (much taller than host Nick) - over 190cm, looks about 2m tall

Mic hand: R & L (alternates)

Talking: “It’s the most powerful I’ve ever felt. Like I can concour anything. I never wanna take it off” (when answering what did it feel like when he first put on the costume/mask)

POSSIBLE MEANING OF CLUES:

He played during the 51st (51 clams) & 53rd (5/3) Super Bowl games.

The three past TMS masks shown are all animals that are parts of names of existing football teams: Ravens, Eagles, Lions. Meaning he is an athlete & specifically plays american football (NFL)

The Lincoln quote translates to “87 years ago...”, so number 87 is the clue here. This could be a reference to player No. 87.

He has had a very succesful career in his own field (sports). Singing is not his main job.

IF the voice-overs were done later, not during initial filming, then it’s possible that “smash” relates to the person smashing a lego-statue of a TV host during 2019/2020 New Years. Which in itself was supposed to be about his famous “Gronk Spike” during football games.

A tiger (albeit “regular”, not white) was one of the characters & costumes + name of the sports team in the Katy Perry video “Swish Swich”, where this athlete also appeared.

The Golden (Golden Mask) trophe - most likely a reference to his many wins (the trophees he/his team has won)

GUESSES:

Rob Gronkowski (Gronk, athlete, 198cm) = 99% certain it’s him

Because of the height alone (seems to be around/almost 2m = 6 feet 5) there are not that many possibilities at all. Even if we don’t listen to that voice or consider the clues. Based on height alone it can basiclaly be only one of these names: Dave Bautista (198cm); The Rock (196cm); Hulk Hogan (201cm); Tyler Perry (196cm); Brad Garrett (204cm); Joe Manganiello (196cm); Jeff Goldblum (194cm); Jason Mamoa (193cm); Tom Brady (193cm)..or the likes...

Even other possible names, like the ones listed by the panel, are not valid guesses, because of their height: John Cena for example is actually only 185cm tall. Also... several of these tall men are bigger/more muscular, so that makes it even easier to determine the name based on only the physical appeance...without even listening to the clues.

ROBOT

First mask to be voted out in ep 1

Havent listed his clues, cause there’s no use for them anymore, as he was voted off.

With his 86 tattoos he makes up for about half of all the 160 tattoos the 18 contestants have combined. With his 24-25 Grammy nominations he makes up about 1/3 of all the 69 noms the 18 contestants have combined. And quite many of the 88 gold records the 18 contestants have combined, belong to him (I don’t know the exact number, but most/all of his 10+ albums have gone gold, I think) - exact number depends on how they count it for this list.

<<<<< THIS IS WHAT GOES ON IN MY HEAD AFTER EVERY TMS SHOW/EPISODE. THIS IS HOW I CATEGORIZE THE INFO I HAVE INTO FOLDERS IN MY MIND. THIS IS HOW SPECIFIC I AM, AND HOW INTO DETAILS I GO. THIS IS HOW MUCH I PAY ATTENTION (while, most likely, missing a ton of more hints that I’ll only notice during re-watch) I JUST DECIDED TO WRITE IT DOWN...FOR ONCE.

BUT... unless I decide to cut some sleep time to do this again, I am probabky not gonna do this after every episode. Possibly for the first episode of every Group (so beside ep 1, also ep 4 & ep 7)

#THE MASKED SINGER #TMS #SPOILER #TMS SPOILER #TMS US #THE MASKED SINGER USA #THE MASKED SINGER SEASON 3 #TMS S3 #TMS SEASON 3 #THE MASKED SINGER S3 #MASKED SINGER

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stuffandnosense · 6 years

Text

Harvest in Fire - Plance

Description: The inhabitants of a small trading village take it upon themselves to punish Lance and Pidge for Voltron’s disappearance.

Warnings: Violence, blood, etc

***

“Hey, what are you doing!”

Lance cries out as an unseen hand yanks him back by his hood, pulling hair as they yank it down from his head to expose his face. Other rough hands are reaching for his arms, reaching for Pidge, locking them in the center of the quickly-forming mob. He blinks in the fine drizzle of rain his eyes are now subject to.

There was a reaction as soon as the word ‘Voltron’ fell from his lips. He should have kept his mouth shut. Why couldn’t he keep his mouth shut?

“You’re paladins of Voltron!”

The stall owner’s sharp cry brought eyes from across the market. His hands snapped to Pidge’s arm, ready to drag her away, but they were surrounded too quickly. Angry pedestrians and some kind of local law enforcement.

Why didn’t they bring their bayards? Why did he have to open his quiznaking mouth? They could have found what they needed cheaper somewhere else without him trying to—

“Watch it!” Pidge snarls, yanking her leg up as if someone stepped on her foot.

“Let her go!” Lance demands. Does he think they’ll really listen? Not really...but…

“Let HIM go,” Pidge retorts.

“You’re throwing off my groove, Pidge.” But for a moment the guilt tying a knot in his chest loosens. Pidge rolling her eyes at him is almost a relief; it comes with a certain fondness.

“It’d probably be a good idea to say something ELSE now!” she says.

Lance pulls back at the hands trapping his arms and only gains the butt of some kind of staff to face to show for it. “OW! Hey, what’s going on! We’re here to help!”

There’s so much shouting he can scarcely make any of it out. It’s hardly more than noise. But he can tell they’re angry as they drag him and Pidge toward the center of the small village.

Someone else—more than one someone else, he thinks—snatches at his jacket again, pulling it entirely free from his body so violently his shoulders wrench. “Ahhhh...hey, give that back!” He shouts, trying to cover the cry of pain. He glares at the smirking alien who has it now. “Wouldn’t look good on you, anyway!”

The crowd is so thick he doesn’t see the wide tree stump until the hands pulling at him spin him around and shove him forward to all but slam into it. About stomach-height, it knocks the breath out of him for a moment—long enough for his wrists to be secured in one of the sets of thick metal manacles fixed to the stump by steaks driven through the short chains.

“Lance!”

Across from him are wide honey eyes, eyebrows pushed high above them as Pidge yanks at her own chains. The stump is nearly chest high for her.

Lance is coughing, trying to get his breath back enough to protest. “What…!” Another cough. “What are you doing!” he demands.

His gaze jumps around the crowd surrounding them, looking for a sympathetic face, but he finds none. At least they finally have a little space now. The people are pulling back, clearing an area around the stump.

Voices finally start to stick out from the noise as it starts to die—as many go quiet as if anticipating something.

“Our lives are miserable thanks to you!”

“With no Voltron, what’s left of the Galra raid our villages!”

“We can barely feed our families!”

There’s more—accusation after accusation—but Lance almost stops hearing them for the buzzing in his ears. He feels almost lightheaded.

The angry mob begins to look less like a mob and more like a crowd of desperate families. Just people, trying to survive. Parents and children. Shop owners. Farmers like his parents.

“Lance...” Pidge says again. This time it’s a gasp, and when he catches her eyes, they’re damp. He can see what he’s thinking in her eyes.

What if this IS our fault?

The thick circle around them parts for a middle-aged-looking purple alien wearing some sort of colorful vest; everyone seems to defer to him. They look to him and the shouting goes silent.

“What should we do with them, Magistrate?”

The alien in the vest narrows his eyes, and Lance’s stomach drops. If there’s going to be a time to speak up…

“We didn’t mean to be gone for so long! There was an accident...weird...w-weird science stuff; we lost time. We couldn’t get back sooner. We didn’t mean to—”

“Silence!”

“He’s telling the truth!” Pidge speaks up. “The time dilation was caused by—”

“Speak out of turn again, and I will have one of you killed where you stand!”

Pidge closes her mouth. Her eyes are wide again, and Lance holds a breath. Surely they don’t mean that...but…

Oh god, maybe they do. And he can’t risk it. Not with Pidge.

The crowd is just as silent. The magistrate circles them and the stump, coming to a stop at a wooden rack of instruments at the edge of the cobblestone square surrounding the stump, before the roads become thatch and mud beyond it.

Two aliens stand beside it, waiting.

The magistrate reaches for what looks like a whip made of woven blades of thick grass; not quite rope, but somehow stiffer like leather would be. Some kind of native plant or something…a stiff handle wrapped tightly in some sort of burlap-like fabric for grip gives ways to several short tails embedded with what looks like bits of rocks and glass at the ends.

Lance presses his knees into the stump to hide them nearly giving way beneath him; his heart is beating so hard his chest hurts. Across, from him, the stump isn’t so wide he can’t hear Pidge’s breaths start to come shorter and more shallow.

The magistrate hands over the whip to one of the two aliens waiting beside the rack, and the other picks up a second.

“Thirty for each of them and then into the cellars until I decide what to do with them.”

No. His breath catches, and Lance can’t let this happen. He can’t. Not to Pidge. Not when this is his fault.

“Wait…!” he croaks. If they kill anyone just for him speaking, maybe it will at least be him. “Don’t hurt her!” he says in a rush, before they can decide to. “I’ll-I’ll take hers, I’ll—!”

“Lance, shut up!” Pidge hisses. The chains are just long enough for her to reach his hands and clasp at them. “You can’t do that; you’ll die!”

He throws her a glance, apologetic but not backing down. “Wouldn’t be the first time,” he mumbles.

“Lance…!”

“J-just let her go and you can do what you want with me!”

Pidge growls. “Ignore him; he’s an idiot!”

He knows she doesn’t mean it—or he hopes she doesn’t—but Lance winces anyway. The magistrate, at least, is focusing on him now, crossing to him and pushing into his face until he almost has to lean backward.

His breath stutters in his chest, but he holds the alien’s gaze. If it’s some sort of test, he can only hope he’s passing.

When the magistrate pulls abruptly away, he huffs. “If you are content to die, then very well,”

He motions sharply to Lance as he backs off, giving the go ahead. Pidge is shouting in protest and for a moment there is the thrill of victory even as his stomach sinks to his feet and something in him begins to tremble.

All of him. It’s all of him trembling.

“We will not hurt her, but we will not let her go,” the magistrate adds.

“What?” Lance gasps. The burly aliens with the whips are closing in on him and he can’t breathe anymore. There are hands at his back, and the cool flat of a knife blade sends a shiver up his spine; his shirt is cut open and up the arms and everything from his waist up is left bare. “W-w-wait, no, let her go!”

“I’ll take mine!” Pidge shouts, but no one is listening anymore. Her fingernails are biting into his hands as she squeezes them.

Lance squeezes back because he has no other way to brace himself other than his knees already pressing back into the stump. The crowd is pressing closer but not too close, eager for the spectacle as the aliens with the whips take positions on either side of him.

Pidge is too close. Too close if they leave her there. Lance fights through the panic stealing his air as he pushes back against her hands gripping his to reach through her fingers, up for her face, beckoning. Begging.

“Pidge, get down! Pidge!” It comes out like a sob; he’s relatively certain that’s the only thing that gets her attention.

When she catches his gaze, there are already angry, frightened tears in her eyes. “No...!”

“Pidge, please…!”

It’s probably only reflex that makes her do it, in the end, but when she ducks down to hide her face against the top of the stump Lance seizes the chance to drop down, to cover her with his own head and arms—as far as he can go before the chains stop him.

Just in time before the first lash falls across his back like clawing fire.

***

Pidge doesn’t mean to duck. She catches the swing of the whip from the corner of her eyes and ducks automatically.

Immediate regret churns her stomach when a shocked shriek from Lance echoes near her ears as he drops over her head and arms.

“Lance…!” she gasps.

His breath shudders above her, maybe in pain and maybe anticipation of the second blow she hasn’t heard yet.

One hand he pulled free when she ducked, to wrap an arm around her head and shoulders, but the fingers of his other hand are still clutched between hers, trapped against the top of the stump beneath her chest now. They flinch when that next blow falls, Lance’s scream trailing off into a dry, shaking sob that ends in a whimper.

“Oh god,” he breathes. Beyond him the crowd is shouting, jeering...

Pidge chokes back a sob of her own.

That was only two. Oh quiznak, that was only two…

The next few seem to come at uneven intervals, surely on purpose, the waiting only there to make the anxiety worse. Both of them scarcely breathe between unless it’s to gasp out a sob. She knows hers aren’t dry, and before much longer her neck is damp from Lance’s tears. She squeezes his fingers tighter to let him know she’s there in the only way she can with her tongue tied in her mouth.

Her heart beats overtime as her mind runs over itself calculating, desperate to find some way the math comes out that Lance might survive this if the others don’t get to them in time.

On Earth the Romans could once kill someone with 40 lashes or less, but their whips were leather and these don’t seem as stiff. There are fewer tails...particulates are still tied into it—it will still be tearing flesh, but the pieces aren’t large, but...but the aliens are a little larger than the typical human. Probably stronger…

The data goes back and forth through her mind half a dozen times in a moment, but it never comes out any better.

Lance is going to die. Protecting her.

“Lance,” she whispers, between blows. “Lance…” Quiet enough no one else can hear but hopefully loud enough that he can. If he still has enough presence of mind to listen.

“You don’t have to do this,” she chokes quietly. “Don’t let them kill you…!”

His breath catches as he tries to answer her. “I...t’s my fault...my...”

Pidge doesn’t have time to say anything else before he stiffens over her with the next crack of the whip and a strangled cry pierces her aching ears. The blows are coming faster now.

“That doesn’t mean you have to die!”

Lance doesn’t answer, and when he starts to slip away from her she pulls back to clutch at his arm as he collapses, searching for his face as he slips to his knees against the stump. His arm slips through her grasp, but she catches his hand and holds on to both of them again.

“Lance!”

The edges of the wood on either side of his body are already damp with the blood dripping down his sides. Pidge doesn’t know why it’s the first thing she really sees when her head is free, but her heart stutters in her chest.

His hands squeeze around hers, his only lifeline, bleary, wet eyes seizing hers.

“Hang on,” she cries. What else is she supposed to say? Don’t die?

She can’t see his back, really, but she recoils at the movement of the next lash falling across it. She sees the force with which it falls for the first time rather than merely hearing it—the tails curling around to grip into his side and the way his body jerks when the alien yanks the whip away again, bringing skin and bits of flesh with it. She can’t quite tell, but the ends of them could be reaching as far around him as his chest and stomach. The rocks and glass could be raking all of it.

Is that why Lance can’t seem to be able to breathe well anymore? It isn’t just pain, is it? His hair is already plastered to his forehead with sweat, and his chest heaves in shallow, rapid breaths that only seem to make everything worse.

“Pidge…” His eyes snap shut briefly with the next blow, a sobbing cry wracking his shoulders. “‘M…’m sorry,” he gasps. He opens his eyes again only for one of the tails of the whip to catch his cheek on the next strike.

“Keep your head down…!”

Lance is already dropping it, burying his face against a lacerated arm. His wails are muffled there, but it doesn’t help.

It doesn’t help at all. Pidge is shaking as much as he is.

How many strikes? How many left? She meant to be counting, but she lost it long ago. She doesn’t know. She can’t even guess. Too many. When his sobbing trails away to silence and his hands go limp in hers she panics, lurching forward over the stump, whips be quiznaked.

“Lance! Lance!”

The aliens stop. Thank god, they stop. One of them moves in to drag his head up by his hair, but it’s clear Lance is unconscious and it’s going to take more than that to rouse him. His breaths are still coming short and shallow, but there’s no response.

Pidge is hoping they’ll stop. At least for now. Something. But the alien draws back as if to hit him.

“Don’t!” she cries. “Don’t wake him up! You don’t have to wake him up! Just let me do it! I’ll take the rest, please!”

They just stare at her at first, but the magistrate at least appears to be listening.

The idea that they might actually listen to her gives her more air in her chest—the ache eases, just a little—but what’s going to happen if they do sets her shivering harder than before. “Y-you’ll kill him...please...please d-d-don’t kill him. I’ll ta-take them, please…”

She can scarcely see the magistrate anymore, really, for the tears in her eyes, but she can see him shrug, finally...finally. Pidge gasps in anxious relief; everything in her tenses in fear, but she allows herself the moment of victory.

Lance isn’t going to die. At least...not right now.

A blade catches the collar of her shirt, and maybe out of some semblance of decency, the alien behind her stops the cut halfway or so down her back. The severed sides of the top of her shirt are roughly pushed out to expose most of her back, but her arms and chest are still covered. Somewhat protected.

Lance isn’t awake to help her brace herself, but she squeezes his hands anyway. If he hasn’t woken by now, that surely won’t wake him. And it’s all she has.

Pidge hears herself screaming almost before she really feels the first blow. It isn’t just stinging and biting; it’s fire ripping across her skin, cutting into her flesh. It’s as excruciating as she was sure it had to be, after what it did to Lance, and it’s somehow so much worse at the same time.

When the second blow falls, Lance’s fingers twitch in her tightening grip when she shrieks.

“Wh…” A deep groan as he stirs, but she can’t really see him.

It hurts. It hurts it hurts it—

Pidge screams through a sob as a third strike claws into her, and a fourth quickly after it from the other side. She thinks she hears a panicked, breathless call of her name, but it’s weak. She isn’t sure if she imagined it, but she can’t be imagining the sudden flash of light. Her ears are ringing, strangely enough, but not so much she can’t make out the whine of charging weapons and the voice that echoes through the square.

“Drop them! Drop them now!”

Keith.

She sobs again, but this time in relief.

Hunk, Krolia, and Keith’s growling wolf are keeping the crowd at bay and, Pidge presumes, the aliens behind her away. Clattering sounds make her think they listened and dropped the whips and any other weapons.

She doesn’t know what alerted their friends—they were miles away collecting water; they aren't even in armor—but she has never been so glad to see them.

Allura is with them too, glaring down the aliens as Keiths cuts the chains between their manacles...and Pidge has never seen Keith so furious as the look on his face when he leans close enough to cut hers. She’s never seen Allura so clearly shaking with rage as she is now, once she glances down to take in their wounds.

“How could you do this?” the princess snaps, hot and accusing.

“You allowed the Galra to ruin everything we have worked for!” the magistrate growls.

“And doing things like this makes you any better than them?”

“You will never understand—!”

“The Galra destroyed my PLANET! When they’ve reduced yours to rubble, then speak to me about how you believe you have the right to atrocities like this.”

Keith gingerly pulls one of Pidge’s arms around his shoulders and slips one around her still-covered lower back to help her up; it isn’t until then—until he helps her around the stump to join the rest of the group—that she can see what they’ve done to Lance. Really see. The blood-covered cobblestones around him and all.

Already dizzy and nauseous from pain, she gags, and Keith’s arms are the only things keeping her upright as she wretches onto the ground.

Allura and Krolia haul Lance up, carefully, and maybe he was somewhat awake again for a moment, but he passes out again when they move him. Hunk’s blaster, thankfully, is intimidating enough to keep the aliens at bay until they’ve all grabbed onto Keith's wolf.

A flash later, and the village square has been replaced by the interior of the black lion.

“I need to heal Lance, quickly,” Allura says immediately. Her voice shakes, though only slightly. “There is no way to know how much blood he has lost.”

His sides are just as torn and bloodied as his back, and just as Pidge feared, the damage even extends around to patches of his chest and stomach, out to his arms...in the few ticks since they teleported, blood has already dripped to the deck.

“Unless your abilities will compensate for particulates left inside of him, we should be sure nothing is embedded,” Krolia adds.

Coran, who only seems to have paused for a moment when they materialized, to take it the extent of what’s happened, is already all business. “The full body scanner in the stasis pod we have will help us find those more quickly.”

Allura swallows. “I...of course, and we...I should see to his chest first, I think. If his ribs or...or lungs, or any other internal organs are damaged that should be the priority…”

Keith helps Pidge find the edge of a crate to rest on, but he doesn’t seem to know what to say as he crouches beside her.

“Pidge…?”

She swallows, still trying to catch her breath. “I-I’ll be okay,” she gasps, swiping at her cheeks with shaking hands. “Lance is...Lance is worse. Just…”

“Keith!” Krolia calls. Lance may not be heavy, but the others need more help to get him up onto the stasis pod’s bed without hurting him too much. Coran has already covered it with a thick blanket.

A new hand rests on Pidge’s arm. “Romelle and I’ve got her,” a quiet voice says. Shiro. Keith exchanges a thankful glance with him before going to help the others with Lance.

“I’ll um...I’ll get rags. And some water,” Romelle says quickly. “We can do what we can until um...right.”

Then, for the moment, Pidge is left with only Shiro. But she doesn’t mind that so much. His arm moves around her shoulders, high and against her neck to avoid any of the stinging wounds and warm through what’s left of her shirt. Even sitting down, things are spinning.

“Easy...deep breaths...breathe, Katie...”

“I can’t...oh god...Shiro...they almost killed him…”

A wail cuts through the black lion’s cargo hold. Lance, awake again and panicking. They have him sitting on the bed of the stasis pod, Hunk and Keith holding his arms to support him in a sitting position so Allura can get to his chest.

Lance is in too much pain to know what’s happening. At least...that’s the way it looks to Pidge.

Her breath catches, and Shiro clings to her shoulders a little more tightly. “He’ll be all right,” he says. But even Pidge can hear the strain in his voice. When she glances up his gaze is caught across the room, eyes haunted like he’s really somewhere else.

Pidge doesn’t really want to know where else that might be. She wishes she could help, but she doesn’t know how.

“Lance, buddy, i-it’s okay, it’s just us,” Hunk is saying.

Allura has his face in her hands, trying to soothe him. “Lance, I know you are hurting...I know. You’re also having trouble breathing, and I need to see to that before anything else so it isn’t a danger to you. Please, calm down, please, it’s all right…”

Coran reaches in to press something to his neck—an injection. Pidge hopes it’s a painkiller.

Romelle returns with rags and basins of water for both the group huddled around Lance, and for her and Shiro. She settles on the crate behind Pidge and asks quietly if it’s all right to clean the wounds. Pidge nods absently, because what else is she supposed to say?

Across the cargo hold Allura and Hunk are finally succeeding in calming Lance enough for the princess to reach for his chest to begin healing it. He’s still crying, but at least the keen edge of distress has leached from the sound and his shallow breathing has slowed. Something in Pidge relaxes, too, even though she winces when Romelle presses one of the damp rags to her back.

The pain lessens when Coran breaks off from the others long enough to come give her an injection, too, and thank quiznak for Altean drugs.

At some point, it all still seems to become too much for Hunk. He gently hands off his side to Coran and comes to Pidge instead. Carefully hugging her from the front, just around her neck, he clings for a little while. She can’t blame him. She clings back, really, what’s left of the chains heavy around her wrists.

Hunk notices them when he pulls back, swiping at his eyes. “Oh, uh…” He catches one of her arms to study the manacle and its’ trailing, cut chain. “Right, I can...let me get something to get these off.”

Pidge only nods in answer; she doesn’t say anything to take away his excuse to leave the black lion for a while.

“Are we safe here?” Pidge asks, as she watches him go. “Where we landed...a-are we far enough away…?”

“We should be,” Shiro answers, quiet. “We’ll keep a watch through the night just in case.”

Hunk comes back with both a laser cutter and her bayard, holding up the laser cutter first. “I grabbed this, and then I realized you could probably just get them off yourself easier and then...yeah. I don’t know.”

“It’s okay,” she says. She holds out an arm to let him do it, only picking up her bayard when he’s gotten both of the metal bands off. “I can get Lance’s.”

“Uhm, yeah. Okay. I mean…”

“Are you sure you’re all right to get up?” Shiro asks.

Pidge pushes herself to her feet, five hands reaching out to steady her, but though she’s still a little dizzy it’s better than it was. More than wanting to stay still, she aches to get to Lance.

He’s calmer now, lying on his healed stomach as Allura alternately works at healing his back and sides, and uses the scanner to help her and Coran pinpoint any bits of rock and glass that need to be removed from his wounds. Still...she needs to get to him. She needs to know he’s really...still here. That he’ll really be all right.

It’s a relief to hear Lance breathing more deeply. The painkillers Coran gave them don’t seem to have done as much for him as they did for her—no surprise there, really, to see him still clearly in pain, even if it’s less—but he’s resting, only moving or wincing when Allura or Coran have to pick at the wounds that are left. He doesn’t open his eyes until Pidge has cut off both of his cuffs, but they’re clearer than they looked from across the room earlier.

He’s trying to smile at her. “Hey…”

“Hey…” Her stomach flips over and pressure builds in her throat all over again as she squeezes his hand, rubbing gently at the chafed skin around his wrist.

“You know I’d have killed you myself if you’d died, right?” she teases weakly.

Lance makes a face. “Yeah.”

Something nudges at the back of her legs, and Pidge finds Shiro and Romelle sliding a smaller crate up behind her for her to sit on. Glancing back to be sure she sits in the right place, she misses whatever makes Lance cry out but she feels him move.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Allura murmurs.

Pidge sits quickly, leaning closer and still clutching his hand as he tense and groans.

“I’m sorry, my boy,” Coran says. His hand rests for a moment at the back of Lance’s head. “Not too much longer now, I should think.”

Lance goes still again, panting quietly. Tears that seem borne of exhaustion more than anything else at this point are trailing silently down his cheeks. Pidge swallows and swipes gently at them, leaning closer to rest her forehead against his. She just needs to be close. And he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Are you okay?” he asks. “They...you…I’m so sorry, I—”

“I’ll be okay. It’s okay. Don’t worry about it…”

At least he seems too tired to contradict her.

***

Hours later, Pidge has been healed, too, and nearly everyone is in pajamas after bathing in the stream just outside their campsite. Their clothes and the blankets and rags hang drying from being washed, on makeshift stands around the fire.

But Lance is nowhere to be seen, and he hasn’t been since Pidge came back from the stream with Romelle.

“He’s...I guess he’s okay?” Hunk told her. “Ish. I mean...he said he was going to rest, but I think he just really wanted to be alone.”

“Did he at least eat something?”

“A little. I wasn’t really gonna push it right now…”

Pidge can’t make herself eat much, either, and after sitting quietly around the fire for a while, wedged comfortably between Hunk and Shiro, no one stops her when she retreats from the group to find Lance.

She hasn’t seen him since Allura finished healing him. He reached for her when they helped him sit up; he was still shaky, but he got an arm around her neck the way Hunk had and Pidge was content to let him hold onto her that way for as long as he wanted to. Even with the drying blood that hadn’t been washed away yet, she returned the embrace as tightly as she could.

When he released her Hunk helped him down from the stasis pod bed and out of the black lion, toward the stream to get cleaned off. After that he never joined the rest of them around the fire.

Not that she can blame him. Even sitting there, she didn’t feel much like talking.

“Lance?” She calls up Red’s ramp, but gets no answer. He may be sleeping, but she doesn’t think he’ll mind if she checks.

His back is to her when she tiptoes through the open door to the cargo hold. “Lance?”

He shifts, turning over in his bed to look at her in the dimness. “Pidge?”

Even in the low light, she can tell his face is red and irritated from crying, and her chest clenches.

“A-are you okay?” he asks. “Allura…?”

“Yeah. I’m fine…”

Lance is clean and in his pajamas too, now, and if it weren’t for the exhaustion written on his face under the redness she could almost pretend nothing happened.

But she can’t. She could never. Not after that. She doesn't know if she’ll ever be able to forget what he looked like, or forget how he screamed.

“Pidge…?” Lance is moving as if to get up, his eyebrows rising on his forehead. She doesn’t realize until then that her fists have clenches and her breaths have sped up.

She crosses the room because she can’t not, her bare feet picking up speed on the deck until she all but barrels into him. Lance catches her with an on ‘oof’ and falls back onto the edge of the bed.

“You’re an idiot!” she sobs.

With her face buried against his neck, she feels him swallow. “Come on, you don’t really think that…”

“Yes I do! I mean...no. Yes. You’re not STUPID, Lance, you’re just an IDIOT.” Her fist falls against his chest for emphasis.

“Thanks for the clarification…?”

Pidge huffs out a breath in frustration and pulls back to look him in the eyes, her knee braced on the bed against him. “I thought you were going to die like that! For me! Did you think I wanted to live with that?”

His mouth opens and closes once or twice before he can answer. “I...I just didn’t want them to hurt you because I couldn’t keep my quiznaking mouth shut, Pidge. I…”

“Come on, Lance; they probably would have figured out who we were anyway.”

“I’m sorry…” His head ducks against her as if in shame, and no, that’s not what she wanted.

“No, no, I didn’t mean…” Maybe she did want him to apologize. But why? Because she’s never been more terrified in her life? How is that his fault? She pulls him closer again. “Sorry, I was just...scared,” she whispers. “I’m sorry it...happened. At all. Quiznak—”

She cuts off to choke back a soft sob, and Lance squeezes back, tugging down a bit until she lets her knees fold up. She means to come down beside him on the edge of the bed, but he pulls her into his lap instead.

When Pidge pulls back to see his face again, his cheeks are red for an entirely different reason as she glances from his face, down to the fact that she’s now sitting on his legs, and up again with a raised eyebrow.

“S-sorry,” he stammers.

His arms twitch around her waist, pulling back to let go, but she catches one to keep them there. “It’s okay…”

Her thumb presses gently into his cheek, caressing the side of his face the whip had caught. The gash there is gone now, thank goodness, but she finds faint marks behind his ears and down the back of his neck that linger. Small dents in his flesh that she almost wouldn’t have noticed if she weren’t looking, most of them half hidden under his hairline.

“Allura said there were some places there was just...too much missing, or something,” Lance says quietly, while he lets her look. “She couldn’t smooth it over.”

She missed that. Before. She was there until Allura was done but the painkillers were wearing thin by then. She remembers Lance hugging her briefly, but not all of what happened is clear.

“Your back…?”

“Yeah...there’s some bigger ones there. Hunk uh...he said it’s not too bad, or anything…” He trails off tightly anyway. He looks away like he’s ashamed, and why should he be? No no no, he can’t—

Pidge pulls his chin back and presses her lips to his before she can think about what she’s really doing. What she’s giving away. Lance pulls in a breath through his nose and rocks back in surprise, but she follows him and he doesn't stop her. In a moment he’s responding to the kiss, and his arms tighten pleasantly around her waist again.

They nearly fall backward entirely by the time they stop, Lance shooting an arm back to steady himself as Pidge slides off his lap and onto the mattress. Pidge is laughing. She thinks Lance is until she sees the tears on his face.

“Lance…! I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

“It’s okay!” he says quickly. It comes out frustrated, but not at her—the kind of tone that makes it clear he’s more frustrated with himself, and now he IS laughing. He’s also still crying. “I just...I’m sorry, I...a few hours ago I thought I’d never get the chance to do that.”

What?

Lance is trembling as he says it, and Pidge doesn’t have time to process that. She winces as she urges him back against the head of the bed and his pillows. She lays beside him and wraps herself around him, trailing fingers gently through his hairs until he calms. The faint tremors last longer, but after what happened to him she isn’t surprised.

“Will you stay?” he asks into the dimness. “Sorry I’m a mess…”

Pidge snorts quietly and presses a kiss into his hair. “And I’m not? Just in general?” Lance laughs at that, and her chest warms with the victory. “Anyway...I’ll stay.”

#plance #flirtyrobot #whump #angst #langst #hurt/comfort #vld pidge #vld lance #tw: blood #voltron #voltron whump #voltron legendary defender

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wikipediathefreeencyclopedia · 5 years

Text

compilation of my favorite otp prompts 5

tag

cute weather/seasonal AUs your OTP [x]

when it rains

who wears the designer raincoat/umbrella set and who is wearing oversized polkadot rainboots and a huge yellow duck raincoat

going for a walk in the rain and splashing in puddles

which one seduces the other into standing under a tree before shaking the branch and soaking them

gOING SWIMMING IN THE RAIN and making out maybe

fall (aka autumn)

who buys mulled cider, who buys hard cider

who wears the really intense halloween costume, who wears a sheet with holes in it

snow/winter

Who builds the snowman, who eats the carrot nose bc they weren’t paying attention (”OH THATS what the carrot was for, my bad”)

oh no we stayed out too long and need to warm up better share the shower/hot chocolate to conserve resources

person A burying person B in snow and then kissing their forehead and walking away (“YOU MOTHERFUCKER YOU CANT LEAVE ME HERE” “I love you too I’ll be back!” “EXCUSE ME”)

imagine your competitive otp [x]

making ridiculous bets on whose wind-up toy will win the race (may include sabotage)

having a food competition (with a food both of them hate)

having a cake-baking competition

sabotaging each other in mario kart

Some height difference things for your OTP [x]

The taller one sitting on the floor between the shorter one’s knees as the shorter one braids/plays with their hair.

The shorter one tackle-hugging the taller one when they come home from some sort of trip, hoping that they’ll both fall to the floor in a pile of limbs and cuddles/kisses, but unfortunately the shorter one isn’t strong/heavy enough and they both remain standing.

Bonus: to compensate, the taller one decides to pick the shorter one up.

The shorter one having to sprawl like half their body across the taller one whenever they ride the bus/train so as to give the taller one all the leg room.

Or, the shorter one sitting down and immediately noticing that their feet don’t touch the floor, becoming embarrassed by this, and then pretending that they’d rather just snuggle up super tight with the taller one.

Bonus: the taller one realizes exactly what’s going on but says nothing. Or teases them endlessly about it, up to you.

The shorter one physically sitting in the taller one’s lap.

The taller one standing behind the shorter one and putting their arms around their shoulders, then resting their chin on top of the shorter one’s head.

Bonus if they’re watching the stars/sunset/ocean together.

Imagine your OTP: Orchestra edition [x]

‘I didn’t bring my music but you gave me your extra copy and I blurted out that I loved you, and we could have awkwardly moved past that but then you accidentally said that you loved me back’

‘I was in the very back row of your concert so I could barely see the stage but I was so impressed with your performance that I decided to hang around and see if I could meet you, and it turns out that you are actually very cute holy shit’

AU List #3 (Theme: Jobs/Work) [x]

“You stood up for me against that really rude costumer who almost made me cry, thank you.”

random aus to consider though [x]

we pulled an all nighter trying to play monopoly and i think i may have confessed some weird shit

Hospital OTP Prompts [x]

I’m a bit loopy on the drugs they gave me for the pain and I told you that I love you and it’s the only thing I remember afterwards AU

The doctor is constantly telling you off cause you keep making my heart beat go faster when you’re talking to me AU

Things I need to be written [x]

person B is a half mermaid and person A orders the salmon for the both of them

Who wants some AUs? [x]

“‘You’re gonna get a cold if you stand out in the rain!’” AU

“I’m on the swings at the park and looking real depressed why did you come over to talk to me?” AU

Weird OTP Prompts for all your fanfiction needs [x]

You’re colourblind, and I managed to get you glasses that will let you see all the colours, but instead of being amazed, you’re just really offended by the colour purple, and you’re yelling at me for wearing a purple shirt.

“Do you masturbate?” “I–I’m sorry, do I know you?” “No, now answer the question.”

I’m colourblind, and you gave me these really awesome glasses that let me see colour, and I’m pretending to really hate the colour purple because I want you to take your shirt off. But really, purple is a fucking ugly colour.

Some of my actual experiences in musicals/plays... [x]

hey we’ve never talked before so now we’re playing love interests how about that AU

hey we’ve been good friends for years so now we’re playing love interests how about that AU

I play a police officer and at one point I get to arrest and drag your character offstage and I’m having a little too much fun with it AU

Did somebody say OTP PROMPTS? [x]

Person A dips Person B (like the dance move, but then get distracted and drops them).

A walking in on B absolutely killing it at Just Dance.

Person B wins Person A a gigantic stuffed animal at the fair.

Person B reading to Person A on the couch to help them fall asleep.

A and B having no mercy on each other in Super Smash Bros.

Person A playfully teasing Person B about how cute they are.

your otp finding each other annoyingly endearing [x]

you’re so stoic or deadpan most of the time but when you get flustered your face lights up red like a beacon and it’s so cute.

you have no idea what personal space is and it’s really distracting when your face is two inches away from mine, what if i turn my head and accidentally kiss you

you don’t like snuggling or a lot of touching but when you’re asleep you’re a cuddler for better or for worse

MORE AUs for you [x]

you’re a magician and you pick me to be your assistant for a trick but the real magic is how you managed to slip your phone number to me while you were sawing me in half au

I made my thousandth paper crane and wished to find my soulmate and the next day you move in next door to me what does this mean au

AUs based (loosely) on things that have happened to me recently [x]

I just watched you fill up a container with dry dog food biscuit by biscuit what the hell are you doing

76 OTP prompts list [x]

Person B is reeaaaaaally tired, but Person A is super, super energetic and loud. Trying to get Person A to shut up, Person B kisses Person A.

Imagine person A of your OTP relentlessly flirting with B in public, just to see B blush.

Imagine Person A of your OTP seeing Person B with bed hair for the first time, and being totally blown away by how cute/hot/etc. they look with their hair being a huge mess. Bonus: if Person A gets flustered when Person B pokes fun at them for liking it.

Imagine your OTP getting in a fight and one of them yelling that they love the other one and then it gets really quiet.

Imagine your OTP cuddling under a blanket on a cold winter night. Person A gently wrapping their arms around Person B and lightly kissing down their neck making Person B shiver from something other than the cold outside.

Imagine your OTP running into each other under the mistletoe. Person A blushes and goes to suggest that they don’t have to kiss but Person B cuts them off with a kiss.

Imagine person A walking out of the bathroom after a shower, half-naked and wreathed in steam, and B immediately dropping whatever they were holding. Bonus if it’s an animal which gives them the stink eye before slinking away.

Imagine your OTP living in a dorm. Person A thinks that person B is kinda cute, but otherwise doesn’t feel much for them. Person A goes to borrow a textbook from person B and walks in on person B in their pajamas with their hair all messed up and person A thinks it’s the cutest thing ever.

Imagine person A of your otp is reading a book late at night and person B can’t sleep so they ask person A to read to them so person A starts reading out loud and a few minutes later person B is completely knocked out and person A gives them a kiss on their forehead.

Being on the brink of admitting their feelings for each other but then getting interrupted.

“You were trying to reach for a box of cereal and a whole shelf’s-worth of cereal boxes fell on you here let me help”

OTP Prompts [x]

Imagine Person A seeing Person B and just having the most powerful, undeniable urge to have sex. Just out of the blue with no provocation except for Person B’s existence. Bonus if they’re having conflicting feelings about acting upon the urge because they’re in public.

no title [x]

‘i keep bumping into you everywhere and you’re starting to get weirded out but i’m not stalking you it’s just a string of coincidences i swear no wait let me explain’ au

Random OTP Prompts [x]

Everyone I talk to mentions you at some point and I didn’t get it but now we’ve met and I do. I definitely do.

We knew each other when we were like 2 years old because our moms are friends and we haven’t seen each other since but now your family is visiting and you’re a lot hotter than you were when you were a toddler.

Everyone thinks I have a crush on your friend but actually I like you which is even more embarrassing.

Reunited AUs [x]

“we’re texting for the first time in forever and i told you about some stupid thing i did and sent a sarcastic ‘you must really miss me, huh’ and you just replied ‘yes’ and i think my heart just broke” au

Spoopy Halloween AU’s for ur OTP!!! [x]

we were supposed to go on a double date to this horror movie but neither of our dates showed up and it’s really just our friends trying to get us together

we both got dragged to this stuffy Halloween party by our parents wanna kiss in the corner?

#writing #writing prompts #otp prompts #au prompts #prompt list #compilation of writing prompts #otp aus

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fishfingersandjellybabies · 6 years

Text

Messed With The Wrong Heart - fic

Characters: Bruce Wayne, Talia al Ghul, Lincoln March, Alfred Pennyworth, bits of Clark and Diana Summary: He had a feeling this would happen one day. It was a simple solution to a mutual problem, an almost mutual goal. An easy team-up. It was shocking it took them so long to think of it. A/N: I probably didn’t do it justice but I have just been so obsessed with two major baddies teaming up against Bruce to get at 1+ of his kids. I had such a blast writing this, even though I’m bad at fight scenes. Bruce probably ran into Talia or Lincoln prior or found out about their plans somehow in a case etc etc. Dick and Damian (and the other kids) had no idea about anything beyond there being a threat Batman had to take care of. Bruce sedated/headphone’d Dick and Damian so there would be no chance of them interfering in the fight or attempts to sacrifice themselves to keep him safe. Bruce is very guilty/not guilty about doing it though. He also sent the others away to protect them as well.

It wasn’t complicated.

He sent Tim away to his Titans, Jason to his Outlaws. Cassandra to the protection of Kate, Barbara and Stephanie.

Didn’t tell them anything. The less they knew, the safer they were. They knew something, though. All of his children did. Knew there was a threat coming, knew they wanted to help their father and should stay at his side.

No, he wouldn’t hear of it. Shooed them all away. He could handle this himself.

Would, even if he had to die to do so.

He stood at the top of the stairs, watching, waiting. His only light was the moon shining through the giant windows of the manor. He had some weapons nearby, but not on him. Had no tools on him, in fact. Was just in sweatpants and a tshirt. Socks.

But ready. Oh, he was so ready.

He had a feeling this would happen one day. It was a simple solution to a mutual problem, an almost mutual goal. An easy team-up.

It was shocking it took them so long to think of it.

He heard the sudden call of disturbed birds in the trees outside, checked his watch. Barely the middle of the night.

He tapped a button. Heard the locks click shut on the door down the hall. Cracked his knuckles, stretched his neck. Smirked.

Bring it on.

The glass of those giant windows shattered, attackers crashing through in waves of two, three, four, six.

Some wore maroon, covered their mouths. Others wore black, gold, facemasks with large black eyes.

The League of Shadows. The Court of Owls.

They all jumped. All had various blades already drawn. Bruce didn’t care. Grabbed one assassin before he landed and swung him like a bat, taking out the line of fighters behind him easily.

A Talon tried to use that to her advantage, and duck around Bruce’s arms. He merely kicked backwards, hitting her spine. Flipped over her, and out of the way of others. Flung her body towards another mob of them, and barely held back his laugh as they tumbled comically down the stairs.

The numbers didn’t matter. Their means didn’t matter. He was prepared for this. Had prepared for this since day one. Since he started being Batman. Since he started being a father.

Not to mention: fighting was in his blood. For him, fighting was fun.

Especially when he knew how to win. Especially when he knew he was going to win.

Especially when it was for love.

Besides, these were just the lackeys. He could let every single one of them go past if he felt like it. They’d be taken down when they got to their destination. When they got to that door he locked with a deadbolt, combination lock, and defense system even he couldn’t get through. And even if they got through that, there was Hell and the Devil himself waiting for them inside.

But these fighters weren’t the main players. Oh, no. And even as he fought them, and beat them, he kept his eye out. Looked past them, for the two who were no doubt already present, somewhere in this house.

Them, he would not let by. Not ever. Not even if they killed him. Over his dead body and all that, but even if he was cold and bloodless, he wouldn’t let those two win. He wouldn’t let those two get near that door.

So he fought and he waited. Enjoyed the fight and enjoyed the waiting. Mostly because he didn’t have to hold back, not really, not here. He wouldn’t kill, of course not, still wouldn’t cross that line – unless he absolutely had to.

But he didn’t have to have mercy.

Because under the smile and the enjoyment, was pure, raging fury. How dare they. How dare every single one of these human beings, living or modified.

How dare the two he was waiting for.

They should have known better. Their leaders, the special two, did. So were they insane, trying the same thing over and over again? Or were they just stupid?

In the long run, he supposed, as he punched a Talon into an assassin and knocked them both unconscious against the wall, it didn’t really matter.

He figured it was time, when he noticed that there were no more enemies coming through the windows. When he was thrown against the banister next to the stairs, and saw that his front door had been opened.

So he dodged the next punch. Ducked the next stab, took the weapon and slashed at the back of both his attackers’ knees, then rolled to the wall, where his weapons still sat waiting. He grabbed a few smoke pellets, launching them straight into the faces of the mob running after him.

There were a few small clicks, a few louder hisses, then the landing was engulfed in gray.

He took down the remaining thugs with ease.

When he knocked the last assassin down for the count, tossing his unconscious body into a few Talons in a similar state, he just slowly backed out of the fog. Kept himself between the stairs and the door, his fists at the ready.

And when the smoke cleared, there they were. At the top of the stairs, one with a sword, the other a dagger.

“I want my son.” Talia said simply.

“I want my warrior.” Lincoln March added.

“Too.” Bruce looked to Talia. “Fucking.” He looked to Lincoln. “Bad.”

Lincoln clicked his tongue and shook his head like he was disappointed. Talia just blinked slowly, and sighed.

Then, they came at him.

He blocked Talia’s blade while he kicked at Lincoln. The Owl got the blade into his calf before he went flying backwards, crashing into portrait of the grandparents they supposedly shared. Lincoln got right back up, plucked another dagger from the belt across his chest and came running back.

Talia just kept hacking at him. Pulling her sword and slashing it back down with even more force than before. Over and over and over. She was hitting his arm, his blood was spraying across her face, but she didn’t care. He knew that look in her eye. She was desperate. Crazed. Murderous.

She would get what she wanted, whether she killed her Beloved or not.

And even after all this time, it broke Bruce’s heart to fight her. To have to punch her in the throat and send her tumbling away as he turned to deal with Lincoln.

But he just couldn’t let her hurt their son again.

Lincoln was screaming as he came at him. Bruce merely ducked, let his ‘brother’ tumble over his shoulders. Lincoln gave another shout as he flopped to the floor, floundering to get himself righted.

“You were never supposed to have him!” Lincoln roared as he got to his feet. “He was promised to us!”

Bruce stood and looked at him with an emotionless gaze.

“Dick Grayson is not a thing to be owned.” Bruce countered. And it was hypocritical, he knew, and maybe showed just how similar he and this potential sibling of his were. “But I will never let you take him from me.”

If Lincoln was going to respond, Bruce didn’t care. Not when he heard Talia leaping at his back.

He dodged her swing, yanking the sword from her grasp and snapping it against his knee, throwing the remnants over the banister. Caught her fists as she tried to slam them into his face and chest, pushed her kicks away like they were nothing.

“You didn’t want him.” She hissed. “You never wanted him. He’s in this world because I said he could be. Now give him back.”

“Never.” Bruce swore. “I’ll never let you or your rotten father near him again so long as I live.” A pause, to correct. “So long as you’re like this.”

“He needs his mother.”

“He needs love.” Bruce pushed, trying to keep the begging out of his voice as her hits forced him back, as the railing began to dig into his spine. “And even I can’t give him the love he deserves, I’ll admit that – but this family can.”

Talia didn’t respond to that. Just let out a battle cry as she kicked out the railing behind him, and the wood shattered.

And he didn’t want to do it – he didn’t. But he had to. He had to win here, he had to beat her and Lincoln. He had to protect that door.

As he started to fall backwards, at the last possible second, he grabbed her instead. Used his momentum to pull himself up while simultaneously throwing her from the top floor of the manor.

She was so light compared to him that she flew instead of dropped. Hit her head on the nearby chandelier. Was unconscious before she hit the bodies of her army on the ground.

He grabbed the broken railing to balance himself, feeling blood blossom on his palm. He couldn’t lament his actions right now, or even take a moment to rest. Because Lincoln was still there. Lincoln March – maybe Thomas Wayne Jr. – he was still an annoyance that had to be dealt with.

So he tightened his grip on that broken banister and ripped it from its frame. Shifted his hold on it to be more comfortable, and turned towards Owlman.

The other was still on his knees, new knives in hand, deciding his next move. Bruce didn’t care. He’d bested this man before, and he’d gleefully do it again. So when Lincoln inhaled, when he shifted to move and use those blades, Bruce leapt and swung. As quick as he could. As hard as he could

Over and over and over and over.

Even when Lincoln collapsed, Bruce didn’t stop. Just kept swinging. Kept hitting this man who threatened his family. Threatened one of his children.

Hitting and hitting and hitting and hitting and hitting.

The spray of blood didn’t stop him, nor the ache building in his arms. It was a groan from nearby. One of the assassins or Talons, already starting to wake up.

And he could fight them again, maybe. But he couldn’t guarantee a victory, not with the injuries already sustained, the energy he already used. Could still win, probably would. But not guarantee.

He needed to be able to guarantee, here.

So he gave one last hit, then dropped the stick and backed away. Huffed and puffed for a few moments, then carefully dropped his shoulders, closed his eyes and leaned his face up towards the ceiling.

“It’s done.”

A second later, he heard the whipping of a cape in one of the windows. Glanced over his shoulder to find Clark and Diana.

“And everyone’s okay?” Clark asked, eyes darting around the bodies. He didn’t mean the criminals, of course.

Bruce turned to glance back at the door down the hall. “Everyone’s fine.”

“Then we’ll start loading out. I’ll call the others to help, so we can get out of here faster.” Clark sniffed. “You guys have somewhere to go tonight? The manor is…”

“Only the foyer is damaged. The rest of the house is fine.” Bruce grunted, stepping forward, not-so-accidentally kicking Lincoln March in the head as he did.

“…Bruce.” It was Diana, gently landing behind him, putting a hand on his shoulder. “You’re injured. There’s blood everywhere. Let us fix you up first.”

He immediately shrugged her off. “The first thing you two should do is get Talia and Owlman the fuck out of my house.” Then quieter: “And I’m fine, Diana. Nothing serious. But thank you.”

Diana hesitated at the answer, but sighed anyway. Bruce watched her stoop and sling Lincoln March over her shoulder, listened as Clark gathered up Talia, before stepping off towards the door.

He waited until he was standing in front of it before hitting that button on his watch once more. Listened as the locks clicked again and the traps disarmed before opening the door as quietly as he could.

His eyes barely scanned the dim room, instead going straight to the bed in the corner. Dick’s bed, since this was Dick’s room.

Dick was asleep in said bed, just like Bruce had left him. His arm was wrapped around an equally slumbering Damian, who was curled into his side like a cat, using his shoulder as a pillow. Both tucked in, both in comfortable pajama-esque clothing, both with noise-cancelling headphones tight to their ears.

And one Alfred Pennyworth sitting in a chair next to them, shotgun across his knees at the ready.

“Did I hear Clark and Diana out there already?” Alfred asked, leaning back a little in relief. Bruce nodded silently as he entered the room, shutting the door firmly behind him. “The battle is already won?”

“Piece of cake.” Bruce mumbled walking forward. “How are they? Has the sedative worn off at all?”

“No, sir. Neither of them have moved an inch, and have remained entirely unaware of the battle just waged for their honor.” Alfred sniffed. Bruce cracked a smile as he passed him and stared down at that mattress. “…Might I say, Master Bruce, as I have so many times already…they’d have been happy to fight at your side this evening.”

“No.” Bruce answered simply. Carefully, he reached out, brushing Dick’s hair off his forehead. “I won’t let Talia or the Owls even look at them. I refuse.”

Alfred hummed thoughtfully. “Despite their defeat…do you believe they will attempt this again? Together or separately?”

“With even more numbers next time, I bet.” Bruce gently pulled the blanket up to Damian’s chin, brushed at the fingers the boy had curled up by his mouth. “But I’ll be ready.”

“And let the family assist you in protecting their brothers as well.” Alfred tried. “Let the boys protect themselves.”

Bruce didn’t answer right away. Just sat down on the bed, and stared at its occupants. At their peaceful, relaxed, young faces. At the ones he would gladly die for. Two of the ones who owned his heart, wholly and unconditionally. His eldest and his youngest.

He softly ran his knuckles over the hand Dick had across Damian’s shoulder, carefully stroked Damian’s arm. Glanced out the window to watch his friends drag his enemies away.

“I’ll be ready.”

#bruce wayne #Talia al Ghul #lincoln march #Damian Wayne #dick grayson

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dannyphantomisameme · 6 years

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Not What I Want

~ Chapter 3 ~

(Click for prologue, chapter 1, chapter 2, and fan fiction link)

Once again he found himself dragging his body through the devoid halls, his clothes drenched in ectoplasm. His head throbbed in agony, pulsating with each step he took. Walking down the halls took all the energy he had. He had mopped up the final remains of Ember, cleansing the the floors and walls till they were spotless. Muscles aching, his stomach grumbled with the realization that he hadn’t eaten lunch. No worries, dinner was in another hour. He could wait.

The image of Ember’s face haunted his soul. Maybe she was in a better place now, hopefully. Although the afterlife was a safe haven from fullon nonexistence, no one knew what happened when a ghosts core was fractured.

Ember knows now.

He regretted his actions dearly. The metaphorical hand of failure wrapped around his neck and squeezed till he could no longer breathe. However, he was half-ghost, so he didn’t need the intake of oxygen. His father would definitely reprimand his antagonistic actions the moment he saw him.

What was he thinking? Playing hero for Ember, ha. He could never abscond from his father without his notice. He really was a fool, instilling hope in the innocent ghost. He began to chuckle at his own stupidity, his voice echoing throughout the deserted hall.

Once he reached his room, he opened the door and slipped in. He continued his daily routine after hurting a ghost. Typically the hunt for the ghost took two or three days max, but Ember was an exception. He knew where to find her, although he wished he didn’t. Removing his clothes, he stepped into the shower.

Usually his showers were relaxing, but this time all he felt was remorse, suffering, heartache, etc. He scrubbed his body, but he felt as if dirt and grit remained. It was attached to him, coating his skin and spreading until it covered every inch. He couldn’t eradicate himself of his behavior, just like the memories he couldn’t expel from his mind.

Drying himself, he wrapped the towel around his waist and shoved his dirty clothes into his laundry hamper. The basket was spilling out with clothes covered in the green substance. He needed to do his laundry soon, before his father came for his weekly room inspection.

Walking out of his bathroom, he dressed himself in his brand-named clothes and made sure to comb his damp hair. He looked at himself in the mirror, grimacing at the scar that ran across the right side of his forehead. Luckily, the wound lay hidden under his bangs.

Next he sat on his couch and polished his shoes. Wiping away the ghostly matter with a towel, he scowled at the lemony scent that tackled his nose. He continued to rub the remains of his only friend away as he tried not to breathe. Finishing, he slipped his socks and shoes on, discarding the now green towel.

Looking up, he noticed the dreariness outside the window. The gray sky was littered with altostratus clouds as the trees swayed through the rigid wind. Bits of snow fell and grazed the yellowing grass. Icicles hung from the bare trunks of the trees, awaiting their moment to descend into the blanket of snow. He always desired to sit in the luscious grass on a warm summer day and read a good book. Maybe a sci-fi. The light from the sun that streamed through the windows always warmed his heart, like a loving family should.

The only view from the windows of the entire mansion were of a forest. No other signs of life could be seen, even the natural wildlife. He never witnessed a squirrel scurry across the snow or a bird fly through the sky. Daniel never understood why his father chose to build his home within a forest, but then again, he never understood his father in general. The man was so vague, only demanding his son to follow his every whim. Finally, he ripped his gaze away from the window and took off to the hall.

Dreading the upcoming encounter with his father, he trekked down the stairs and into the dining hall, sitting down in his spot. His father sat paging through a newspaper, waiting for his son to join him. Lucy entered the room from the kitchen with two full trays of food. The chef had prepared a delicious turkey salisbury steak with broccoli and mashed potatoes on the side. Daniel never had a preference for dinner, he just ate whatever without a complaint. Plus if he made the slightest complaint, he would be terribly injured by the end of his sentence.

Just as he picked up his fork, his father set down his newspaper. Vlad’s mouth, which had previously formed a straight line, began to curl upwards. His demonic grin was enough to make Daniel sick to his stomach.

Daniel felt the urge to run to his room and speed away from his worst nightmare. He gripped the table to avert his attention away from fleeing. His heart palpitated fiercely within his chest, triggering the release of cortisol, a blood-pressure increasing hormone. His breathing began to pick up the pace, rapidly shortening in length.

Vlad placed his hands on the table, curling his fingers together. Eyeing his son, Vlad opened his mouth to speak, only to be intruded by Daniel.

“Why did you do that? She could have been useful.” he interrupted speaking softly. Vlad sat there, gawking at his son.

“Since when did you question my actions?” Vlad replied growling. His fangs started to peak from his frown.

“Everyday.” Daniel’s voice echoed through the room. Fortunately, the kitchen staff couldn’t hear him through the sound proof walls, his father made sure of that when he built the mansion.

Vlad was shocked at his son’s assertion. He never once talked back in his life or looked so confident doing so, until now. “Did you just talk back to me?”

“Yes.” The food was getting colder.

Vlad stood up suddenly, swinging his arm at the table and knocking down a wine glass. The liquid coated the floor like a bloodstain while the glass shattered into a million filaments. Leaning over the table, he whispered “Don’t you ever disobey me again. Understood?”

Daniel stood up; he was going to be in immense trouble for this. “No.” he deadpanned as he starred his father in the eye.

Vlad shook his head in disbelief. His son was in it for now. “How dare you, you son of a bitch! I provide you with this luxury life and this is how you repay me?!” He was shouting now, eyes glinting with hints of blood red. He swung his arm onto the table, striking it hard enough to break the edge in two. His dinner slid down towards the crack, ceramic plates exploding in every direction. Daniel flinched at the sound.

“I don’t need a luxurious life.” he replied sharply. His father began to laugh now, his chuckles ringing through the airy room.

“Don’t need me, ha.” Vlad snickered darkly, “You couldn’t even stand a single day without me.”

“Watch me.” Daniel retorted straight-faced. This time, he didn’t tremble or squeak, he asserted his ground. His hands were balled into fists, glowing ecto energy surrounding them. He stood tall, defending himself for the first time in his life.

“... devil.” the word rolled of Daniel’s tongue effortlessly.

Shit.

Vlad growled and lunged for him, but Daniel anticipated his move. Grabbing a dull silver knife off the table, he plunged it into his father’s right arm. He grunted and fell to the floor, clutching his brachium that was now spewing blood. Daniel took the opportunity to slip away by calling upon his invisibility.

Hardly escaping his father’s claws, Daniel zoomed through the dining room, flying into the main foyer. There he soared past the red curtains, adopting a zig-zag pattern in order to shake off his father, not knowing if he was following him or not. He didn’t risk looking back, in fear of witnessing his father’s devilish glare.

He took the long way to his room. Flying all the way to the other side of the mansion, up the stairs, and back to his room. He didn’t care if the staff saw him zoom past, they would only see a blur. He would have flown directly through the walls, if they weren’t ghost proof. Entering his room, he grabbed his backpack from earlier, which still held weapons, and stuffed in some clothes, snacks, and a bottle of water. He dug through his sock drawer and took out a wad of cash, shoving it into his backpack as well. He had stolen the money from his father years ago, in case of an emergency like this. He grabbed a jacket from his closet and threw it on.

The ghost shield around the mansion made it impossible to leave, so Daniel decided to tear it down. Once again returning to invisibility, he flew through the mansion. Over the years, he kept track of the rooms in the enormous estate. There were a few doors that were password protected, but only one of those doors caught his attention. Flying down the stairs he headed straight ahead into another long hall. He stopped at a black door and began pressing buttons on a keypad resting on the handle.

He typed in his father’s birthday.

Incorrect.

The day his father became a halfa.

Incorrect.

His own birthday.

Yes!

Mentally congratulating himself while simultaneously considering why the password was his birthday, he entered the room without a sound, locking it behind him. Inside were huge silver furnaces, yet the atmosphere reeked of the unforgettable smell of ectoplasm. He turned back to visible and wound his way through the eerie room while concurrently pinching his nose. He came across a silver box on the wall with a large green ‘x’ on it. He opened it swiftly, and was met with a ton of wires. Anxiously anticipating his father’s appearance, he pulled the wires with a grunt. His objective was to destroy anything that brought about suspicion.

He would have guessed that time had slowed down, as that’s what it felt like. Ripping the wires, he felt an invisible weight lift off his shoulder. He smiled; the feeling felt like nothing he had ever felt before. The sparks flew to his right as he was unexpectedly thrown into a giant silver cylinder. He groaned an sat up, only to be enclosed within a circle of fervor.

The green flames roared and scorched against his skin. He struggled to breathe, coughing intensely. This was no ordinary fire, ectoplasmic fire was a danger to all, even half-ghosts like him. Breathing in its fervent smoke could reduce one’s strength significantly. Daniel had only ever encountered the fire once in his life, fortunately escaping before intaking it, but the stories were enough to scare him.

Shuddering to move out of the room, he clutched his shirt. His lungs burned under the intense heat as the lemony aroma attacked his mind. His brain throbbed in his head, skin beginning to char. He couldn’t see through the thick smoke as he dragged himself through. His limbs protested any movement, but he ignored them. He felt defenseless. Even his ghost core felt so far away, although it was situated in his chest. He was also starving. Skipping dinner hadn’t been his brightest idea.

Suddenly he was on the ground. Something sharp clawed across his stomach, shredding his expensive clothes. He shrieked at the pain and squirmed under someone’s grasp. Through the fog he could see two glowing red orbs.

The devil.

He yelped as he forced out a shield of ectoplasm. His father was thrown off of him and into another silver furnace. Steam escaped from the now ruptured cylinder and suffused into the room. Coughing, Daniel grabbed ahold of the nearest object and brought him onto his feet. His legs were shaking, begging him to stop. He heard a groan to his right.

Trudging and clutching his injured stomach, he continued through the room. He couldn’t just walk away from his father, he needed to hide. Before he could ponder anymore, he felt a tug on his hair. His head slammed into the concrete floor below, knocking the breath out of him. His head exploded in agony, as if he was dying all over again. He felt a cold substance trickle through his hair.

Clenching his eyes shut, Daniel felt hot breath on his ear. “You will never escape, you goddamn piece of shit. You don’t understand anything. Even if you leave, you’ll never survive. The world’s too cruel for you.” he paused, catching his breath. “Your safe here.” Vlad gripped his sons hair firmly, twisting to induce more pain.

Daniel couldn’t take it anymore. Quickly opening his eyes he grabbed his father by his forearms and yeeted him across the room. The impact of his father’s body hitting the wall rang through his mind. His entire body was shaking now, but he got up once more.

“I NEVER WANTED ANY OF THIS!!” Daniel shrieked at the top of his lungs. His hands ran through his hair, staining them with his blood red liquid. He needed to gain control once more. Mustering all the strength he could, he soared straight through the wall and out of the house, charred backpack still in hand.

It worked. The shield was gone.

He escaped. He was now outside.

Outside.

Away from the devil.

Zooming under the stars and above the trees, just like his dreams, he felt himself tire. He continued for what felt like an eternity. Finally he lowered himself, but landed roughly, tumbling into the frigid snow. His jacket was ripped into scraps clinging to his body. The rest of his clothes were ripped in various spots and encompassed in black soot. He risked looking back, but was only met with bare trees surrounded by the night sky.

His eyes fluttered to close, but he fought the instinct. With his heightened night vision, he was able to navigate his way through the dark. He took off his destroyed jacket and ripped it into strips of fabric. Lifting his once white shirt now splotched with a large crimson stain, he wrapped the jacket strips around his abdomen and hissed at the sting.

Once he finished, he laid down into the frozen white blanket. It felt so relaxing against his burning skin. The cold didn’t bother him since he had an ice core. He was used to the icy sensation when he mustered up ice shards.

A grin began to spread across his features. He was finally free.

Free.

He never thought he could utter those words through his lips. He sat back up and reached into his backpack, pulling out a packet of Lays chips. He devoured the entire bag under seconds. The little boost of sodium gave him little energy, enough to take a quick flight. He couldn’t stay here long. His father could locate him any moment.

How could I forget?

Searching his backpack, he uncovered a knife. Rolling his left sleeve up, he penetrated the tip into his wrist. Grunting at the impact, he twisted it until he felt something underneath. Blood rushed down his wrist and blotching the pure snow. He gouged a small rectangular chip out of his wrist. Slowly removing the chip, he threw it into the snow and used another jacket strip to apply pressure and prevent any more loseage of blood.

Vlad had input a little chip under Daniel’s skin when he was little, although he never knew where to find it. After injuring his left wrist several times, he could feel something unusual against his muscles. From there he realized the chip was probably located there. Luckily, he didn’t just stab himself for nothing. With the chip, his father could locate him anywhere, except the ghost zone, or so he previously thought.

He struggled to stand up, but finally made his way onto his quivering feet. Transforming invisibly to not attract any attention to himself, he levitated in the air amd zoomed off. He didn’t know where he was going, nor did he care less.

He munched on a granola bar as he soared over the trees, marvelling at the beauty of the outdoors. He observed many critters scattering throughout the night.

As time passed he felt himself become more tired, until he was unable to continue. The forest seemed to continue forever, a sea of bare trees.

Just as Daniel felt like he was about to collapse, he saw a small light ahead. Instilling hope in his little innocent heart, he sped off towards the light. Its illumination grew larger and larger, until he came upon a road. Cars, something he never witnessed before, zoomed past on the road. The luminous glow originated from the streetlamps.

Knowing he couldn’t continue, he dove towards the cars and decided to hop in one. Awaiting for the perfect vehicle he could escape in, he noticed a large moving van driving by. He instantly flew in, removing his backpack and transforming back into his human self.

Before he could lay down on a sofa, he was already knocked out.

~~~~~

In a black office chair, sat a man with a ruffled suit. His silvery hair was tousled in several directions. Bandages were wrapped around his arm and forehead, some parts stained with a wine-red substance. The man swiveled in his chair to face his desk, eyes transfixed in a dissociated state.

“Did you find him?” He growled through his barred teeth. His naturally blue eyes were gleaming with hints of blood red. Two giant, neon green figures, one in the shape of a bear while the other a rabbit, returned a growl. The bear placed its paw on the desk, opening it to reveal a small rectangular object covered in flaky dried blood.

“You incompetent fools! I request of you the simplest of jobs and you return empty handed?!” His voice rang through the office room. His expression displayed pure fury. The ghosts stood in panic, afraid for their afterlives.

Vlad Masters stood up as a white circle of light descended down his body. His silvery hair was now fixed into two horns, its color matching that of the night sky. His wrinkled and worn suit was replaced with a silver long-sleeved top and pants, with a matching cape. A black belt was bound to his waist, containing various buttons with specialized functions. His outfit was complete with red accents, pair of jet black boots, and matching gloves. His skin had a blue tint to it. Hovering over the chair, the devil smirked at the two innocuous entities.

Manifesting his telekinesis, he grabbed ahold of the two specters by their throats, squeezing tautly. “The next time I ask of something, I want it done.” he slammed the two ghosts onto the floor. The entities grunted in response, unable to speak in return.

“Oh wait, there will be no next time.” He once again picked the ghosts clutching their chests, this time with his gloved hands. Crushing their cores, he continued to hold up the ghosts till they began to dissolve into a clump of ectoplasm. The green substance ran down his arms and onto the floor as he grinned diabolically.

He wiped his hands on his silvery cape, calling upon his transformation back into human from. He once again sat down in his office chair, rotating to turn to the bleak window. Leaning forward, he whispered.

“I will find you.”

“And you will want me.”

#long chapter #had to research some of this shit #I don't even eat steak #please tell me what you think #Vlad's a bitch #spent so long drawing a cover pic only for it to suck so bad #I need feedback becuz I'm a dependent bitch who requires affection

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youvebeenblessed · 6 years

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Ok I have no idea where I'm going with this and it has no title yet but I'm going with Reed for now

This is born out some discord talk about how Nick and John have a complicated relationship built around planes and anger. Will be many more parts and proper content warnings etc when more is written. This is just a slooooow intro to the history of my two favourite boys. Only warning right now is some strong language and some strong feelings about John Seed.

The Seed Family had rolled into town on a dull Tuesday afternoon about 7 years ago, 3 brothers who quietly bought up the big ranch south west of Fall’s End.

The place had been vacant for the last few years, more people trying to leave the valley than settle down in it. At first, no one noticed the family much past them turning up in town to enquire about buying the ranch and the land surrounding it. Most of the townsfolk wondered why 3 youngish men needed such a big space, wondered at the experience any of them had when it came to working a ranch. Wondered where they got the cash. Back then, there had been a subtle southern lull in their voices, not that any of them spoke much. The youngest seemed the most talkative, a glint in his eye, soft buttery words, and brilliantly white teeth as he negotiated the price. He was in his mid twenties, a well-groomed dark stubble across his sharp jaw that made him stand out from the regular, rugged Montana men that had lived in Holland Valley all their lives. The other two brothers stood back, older than their sibling by a good few years. One stood rigid, shoulders square, feet apart, and hands clasped in a way that would have given him away as a military man if it weren’t for the regulation jacket and the dog tags hanging from his neck. His gaze rested on the imaginary horizon, as though still on duty, still on patrol, still waiting for that enemy to come, seeing everything and looking at nothing. If his presence was unnerving, it was nothing compared to the middle brother, all wide eyes and piercing stare covered by bizarre yellow glasses. He radiated a stillness that seemed altogether unnatural, and he smiled often as the youngest spoke. John it transpired, discussed the terms of the ranch’s purchase.

“...you fellas aren’t from round here, are you?” The man studied John quietly as he spoke. He didn’t look in the least familiar, and he couldn’t see a trace of any of the families that lived in the valley in the features of these brothers’ faces. You didn’t just happen across Holland Valley, you came because you had some distant relative there, or you were born there. You knew it was there. These 3 men had turned up out of nowhere, asking questions about the town and the county like they had read about it in some travel guide and were looking to see the sights. Yet somehow they knew about the ranch, and even more strangely, wanted to buy it. The place hadn’t been a profitable business for the last two decades, and the damn place just wouldn’t sell for love nor money. John simply smiled wider at the man, letting out a laugh before continuing.

“Is it that obvious?” His smile faded a little after he spoke, getting no reaction from the man behind the desk. The silence lingered in the air like stale smoke in a dive bar, hinting at something on edge beneath the niceties. John cleared his throat like he was about to speak again when the man cut him off.

“Look, I only ask because Hope County might not be the place for you boys. Ranch has seen better days, and ain’t really worth all that much to anyone who ain’t got the wherewithal to turn it around. No offense, but you don’t seem the type to be ranch hands,” He notably glanced at John’s impeccable dress shirt, pausing before continuing, “and there ain’t many folk left in town looking for work these days. Maybe you’d be better off heading to Missoula.” John laughed again, a dissatisfied sounding huff, and placed his hands down on the desk in front of him, leaning heavily, shoulders rounded, and moved closer to the man behind it. He was about to speak again when he felt a hand on his shoulder. The odd looking brother with the yellow glasses motioned with his head for John to move over and stood next to him in front of the desk, clasping his hands behind his back. He stood motionless, staring at the face of the man John had been speaking with as though sifting through his thoughts, the edges of his mouth curving into a slight smile. Up close, he seemed even more oppressive, and that unwavering stare seemed to pierce right through him. The man tried to hide his involuntary shudder. Finally, the other brother spoke.

“Hope County will be a new home for us. We will work the land as needed. We will build a new life here. We will welcome you as neighbour, help build a community.” He paused, nodding to his brother John once more who promptly withdrew three crisp stacks of 50 dollar bills from his back pocket, somehow unaffected by their time in his jeans. The man reckoned there was at least 15 grand on the table and he contemplated the stacks neatly place in front of him before looking back up at the brothers. The eldest hadn’t moved from his spot near the door, except now he was watching the man carefully, peering between his brothers’ shoulders. The man looked between them all, saying nothing. John inhaled a long quiet breath in, spreading his face back into that winning smile.

“A deposit. We can transfer the rest of the funds to you today, if it suits you. We’d really like that ranch.” The man just kept looking. They all three of them had the same eyes, those eyes that bored their way through him, made him feel like a deer caught in the headlights. He seemed to think it over, unsure of these strange newcomers so insistent on a beat up old ranch miles from anything. He would understand them buying property in town, if he understood them coming here at all. The youngest certainly had the air of a city dweller about him. The brief glance he had had as John had rested his hands on the table had told him he hadn’t worked a day’s labour in his life, though he noticed the odd scar on the back of his wrists, peeking out the edge of his sleeves. Maybe from a childhood spent playing in trees and scrambling through the brush back down in the south. He thought he could glimpse the lines of what might be a tattoo on his arms, but the long sleeved of his shirt revealed little. But damn if he hadn’t been trying to shift that cursed ranch for years, and the money before him was a welcome offer. Without another word, he opened his desk drawer, pulling out a key from the few he had littered in there. He paused, catching sight of the old pistol he kept in there, briefly wondering why it struck him, but pushed the drawer shut again, holding the key out to them.

“...Welcome to Holland Valley, fellas.”

News of the newcomers had spread in Fall’s End pretty quickly. Nothing more than that the old ranch had been bought up by a family of brothers who seemed friendly enough. No one had seen them in town yet, which seemed surprising since it was the only place to get supplies for miles. Mary May had been working behind the bar, a young girl just barely eighteen, fresh faced and freckled, just like her Daddy, chatting with Nick Rye as she flipped the bottle cap off another beer and handed it to him, mentioning in passing that he had a new neighbour.

“The old ranch, huh?” Nick had said, eyebrows raising as he took a swig of the cold beer. “It’ll be good to have more folks around on the land that way. They ranchers?” He asked Mary May. She shrugged, drying off glasses with a dish towel.

“Not much anyone knows about them. Supposedly nice enough.”

“I oughtta swing by, introduce myself. See if they need a hand. Offer ‘em a tour of the valley courtesy of Nick Rye and his future sons.” Mary May snorted, shaking her head.

“Yeah, that’ll be a long time coming, Nick.” Nick shook his head at her, gulping down more beer and letting out a loud burp.

“I’m a fucking catch, Mary May.”

Nick decided to drive up the following afternoon, excited at the chance of having new neighbours after so many years. The ranch had belonged to a friend of his Daddy’s, and the pair had spent almost every night drinking beers together, blaring rock music on the porch as they took shots at passing birds. Nick had spent almost every summer growing up helping with the cattle before he was old enough to learn to fly, and join his Daddy’s business. The man had been like an uncle to Nick, and it broke his heart to watch the place fall into disrepair, cows long gone, and his Dad’s buddy dead. It’d be nice to see some new blood there. Nick had heard the brothers were around his age, and he had grown sick of hanging out with Sharky and Hurk all the time. They were great and all, but they had known each other since they were babies, and Nick could only talk about huntin’ puss for so long.

He pulled up in front of the old house, scanning around for any sign of movement. There were big black cases everywhere, but the house was deathly still, and looked like it hadn’t even been touched yet. “...hello? Anyone home?” he called out his open window. There was no answer, no twitch of the curtains, no sound at all. He opened the door and got out his car, stepping forward a few steps towards the door. “Name’s Nick. Nick Rye. I live just down the road a ways, down at the airstrip.” He waited, looking around again at nothing. Seemed odd to him there would be no one there only a few days after they had bought the place, and with shit everywhere. Deciding they might have headed off to town to get supplies or something, Nick fished out a scrap of paper and a pen from his glove box, scrawling a note that read: “Hey neighbour, came to introduce myself but missed you. Let me know if you need anything, I’m down at the airstrip. - Nick Rye”. The old mailbox was long gone, knocked over one night when he and Sharky had taken a little joy ride up round the ranch after a night of heavy drinking at the Spread Eagle, so he left the note on the porch, pinning it down with a rock and heading home. Maybe he’d see them at the bar.

Jacob was the one who found the note, kicking the rock off with his boot and scooping it up roughly. He read it over saying nothing, heading over to Joseph coming up the stairs to the house and pinning it against his chest with his hand. The brothers had returned to Atlanta, packing up things from the church, moving families out that would follow them north, to Hope County, to Joseph’s promised land. John had been battling with the local law enforcement, using his connections built as an attorney to sway things in the family favour. They couldn’t prove anything, he whispered, smiling that sharp smile all teeth edge and never reaching his eyes. Circumstantial evidence at best. The family would move on quietly, and the missing man searched for long after they left. A few loyal followers had made the return trip with them, ready to help with the ranch, sleeping on the dusty floor like it was the softest bed.

Joseph was shaken from his reverie by his brother, taking the note from him and reading it through with a blank expression on his face. “They have welcomed us already. This is a good place. These are good people. Just as God told me, as he planned for us.” Jacob said nothing to this, looking at John coming up the steps behind Joseph. He stopped when he noticed his brothers looking at him.

“...what? What is it?” He said, looking between his brothers. Joseph passed John the note, Jacob filling him in.

“We missed the welcome wagon.”

Nick told Mary May about his venture up to the house that night in the Spread Eagle. “Thought they might have called, or dropped by or something. You seen ‘em in here yet?” Mary May shook her head.

“No one’s seen ‘em yet. Maybe they’ve been busy. Maybe they don’t drink.” Mary May smirked, watching Nick shake his head drinking his beer and almost spilling it down himself.

“Nobody doesn’t fuckin’ drink, Mary.” he said, sitting his beer down and wiping the drips that had snaked their way down his beard. “Maybe they’re moving their stuff in. Mac said they sounded like they were from the south. Maybe they had to drive back.” Mary shrugged.

“Well, they’ll be in town sooner or later. Ain’t nobody patching that place up without supplies, and ain’t nothing that way for miles and miles and miles and miles and--” she chuckled as Nick cut her off.

“Alright, city girl, I get it, you love the big bright lights of Fall’s End.”

“Well you drag your ass up here every night in my bar, you don’t see me coming to you.”

Mary May was wrong, no one saw the family in town for the first two weeks after they had moved in, though there were rumours saying there were strange people all dressed in white hanging about the ranch, moving and fixing, and patching things up. No one had seen the strange people in town, and most folk just took it for people looking to stir the pot in the bar of an evening. Truth be told, everyone was itching to meet them. Who the hell moved in to Holland Valley?

It was the Sunday three weeks after the ranch had been bought up that the brothers finally appeared in Fall’s End. Pastor Jerome had just started his sermon, welcoming the usual faces in the crowd, cracking a few jokes with people before getting into the main words of it. The church doors had quietly opened, no one paying much attention as there was a latecomer every week, nursing a hangover from one too many at the bar. It wasn’t until they had walked down a few rows of pews to be as close to the front as they could be that people began to realise it was the family there had been so many whispers about. Nick was sat reclining on a pew near the back of the church, eyes wandering to where that cute girl Kim was sat with her parents a few rows up, but the passing brothers broke his view, and he looked up at each of them as they passed, first Jacob, then Joseph and then John. The youngest did indeed seem to be about Nick’s age, maybe a few years older. The others looked like they were heading towards the later years of thirty. Nick wondered why none of them had settled yet, no women with them, and what had brought them here like a stray tumbleweed. A few people began to whisper to each other as they took a seat, Mary May turning round to catch Nick’s eye, facial expression amused and full of sparking curiosity. Pastor Jerome noticed them only from the rush of whispers they left in their path, pausing to glance at them before continuing to preach. He couldn’t remember the last time he had seen a new face in his congregation.

After the service had concluded, and people began to meander their way back to town, Mary May walked quickly to Nick, grabbing his arm and speaking closely in his ear. She always smelled distantly of beer and some sugar sweet perfume, and he could feel her warm breath on his neck as she spoke excitedly. “Well fuck me, if they ain’t a good looking family, Nicky.” He shook his head at her. She was always a sucker for a pretty boy. That’s what kept her turning Nick down.

“Easy there, Mary, they’re all too old for you and you don’t know a damn thing about them.”

“I know that youngest one has the finest ass in this whole damn county, and don’t you act shocked Nick Rye, I’ve heard you and Sharky cussin’ every which way since I was knee-high to a grasshopper and talking about every girl in this town like she’s a pork chop ready to get eaten up.” His shocked face at her declaration was cut short, and by the end he was grinning sheepishly. Sharky was a bad influence. He noticed that the middle brother had stopped to talk to Pastor Jerome, wide smile on his face as he spoke animatedly with him. Oddly, Jerome didn’t seem quite so enthusiastic, but he nodded patiently, and spoke every now and then between breaks in the man’s words. The other two brothers stood a little ways off, the youngest flashing a big pearly grin as he chatted with some of the townsfolk. Mary May was watching him approvingly, and he noticed a few of the other women similarly entranced, casting too-long glances at him and walking more slowly than usual. The eldest brother stood, arms crossed, between his two siblings, watching John talk but saying nothing himself. His deep red hair marked him out from his brothers, but he had those same startlingly blue eyes, his razor sharp compared to the warmth of his siblings. “Come on, we’re gonna go talk to them.” Before he knew what was happening, Mary May had dragged him over by his arm, making a beeline for the youngest brother. The group he had been talking to began to wander off as they approached him, and he turned to them with that brilliant smile never faltering. Up close, Nick felt there was an odd tension in the man’s jaw, and stiffness to his shoulders he tried to cover as he moved. Maybe he just seemed tense next to the intensity of his eldest brother. Nick looked at them both as Mary May spoke. “Hey there, you must be the new family that’s moved in up at the old ranch. We wondered when we might see you in town.” John watched her intently, giving her all his attention with soft eyes never leaving hers. Nick could see a faint flush rising on Mary May’s neck as she spoke, swallowing slightly after her words, but never faltering. “I’m Mary May, I work up at my Daddy’s bar, the Spread Eagle, and this,” she tugged on Nick’s arm “is Nick Rye. He works with his Daddy at Rye & Sons not too far down the road from the ranch. Big airstrip? They help out crop dustin’, giving tours, that sort of thing.” John glanced at Nick, giving him a quick nod and turning back to Mary May.

“What a pleasure to meet you both. I’m John Seed. This,” he moved over to where his brother stood scowling and gripped both his shoulders, shaking him as best he could, “is my oldest brother Jacob, and that over there,” he nodded over to where the middle brother stood still chewing the Pastor’s ear off, “is t-- Joseph.” The stutter was almost imperceptible, and he quickly hid it behind that ever present smile. Jacob said nothing. “We are looking forward to joining the community.” John said, turning to face Nick again. Nick couldn’t work this guy out. He seemed nice enough, genuine and warm, well-dressed. Obviously well educated. He had almost completely thrown off the southern lilt in his accent, and from the shirt he was wearing, clearly had money. But there was something off. Nick shook it off as just not meeting new people often, trying not to judge the brothers, but being wary of them too. He still couldn’t wrap his head around why anyone, let alone three fairly young brothers, would move out to the sticks. John seemed like he might have been about to speak, but Nick jumped in.

“You guys ever fancy a drink, you can find us down in the Spread Eagle most nights. Best way to meet everyone in town, most folks spend their evenings there. Be nice to have some fresh faces in the place.” Mary May glowed as she looked at Nick. He could tell she was delighted at the prospect of getting this guy in her bar.

“That’s kind of you.” John said, glancing at his brother Jacob briefly. He kept his silence, but cleared his throat in a gruff way, and shifted his stance. “You said you’ve got the airstrip down the way?” John had turned to Nick again, those keen eyes locking onto him. Nick nodded. “Rye & Sons was it?” John’s voice was smooth as silk, and almost hypnotic. It was oddly soothing.

“Sure is.”

“What kind of planes do you have?” His eyes seemed to glimmer more as he asked the question, showing that same keen interest in Nick as he had speaking with Mary May, like Nick was the only thing that mattered in that moment. He almost found it endearing.

“We got Carmina, she’s an old seaplane my Grandaddy bought after he came home from the war, and she’s a thing of fuckin’ beauty. You lookin’ to hire a plane?”

“Actually, I was looking to buy one. We’ve got big plans for the ranch, and we’re hoping to have our own airstrip on the land. Once we’ve done the place up, maybe we can come by and take a look at what you have.” Nick shook his head.

“Nah, I’m afraid no can do, Carmina ain’t for sale, and our other plane is out of commission at the moment. You fellas need an airstrip, huh? What is it you guys do?” John smiled widely, stretching his arms out and laughing softly. This guy sure was a smooth talker.

“Family business, same as you.” Nick’s eye was caught by the other brother finally breaking away from Pastor Jerome and walking over to where the four were gathered. He placed a hand gently on John’s shoulder, but he flinched as though a pile of bricks had landed on him. “Joseph” John said, without looking at his brother. “These are our neighbours, Mary May and Nick Rye.” Joseph stared unblinkingly at them, smiling and speaking just as softly as his younger brother.

“Ahhh, the good samaritans.” Nick stood confused. “We appreciated your note.” The note. Nick had forgotten he left it, and it struck him as strange John hadn’t mentioned it. “I hope we can help each other in the future, Nick Rye.” This sibling creeped Nick out even more than the other two, but he couldn’t put his finger on why. Maybe the way those yellow lenses made his blue eyes muddy, all at once hidden and magnified by the glasses. They all stood, awkward in the niceties of new conversation before John broke the silence.

“Well, it has been swell getting to meet the pair of you. I’m sure we’ll be seeing more of each other from now on.” If it hadn’t been for his sickly sweet smile, one Mary May returned gladly, that would almost have sounded ominous. The three brothers headed off to where Nick could see there was a large white truck parked, waving at a few people who greeted them on the way. City boys, he thought, the damn thing was gleaming with not a dent or nick on it.

The bar was buzzing that night with talk of the new brothers. How handsome and friendly they were. Guesses at what they did, why they wanted the ranch, why they had come here of all places. Whether they had girlfriends or wives. Or boyfriends, Sharky pointed out loudly. Ain’t no need to be making assumptions. Mary May had that same flushed look on her face she had done that morning as she talked about their meeting with the youngest brother.

“There were three of them, you realise that, Mary May?” Nick couldn’t help the corners of his mouth curling to a grin before sipping his beer. That girl.

“Yeah, and any one of them could get it. I’m just saying.” “You’re a freak, Mary May.”

“You’re a dick, Nick Rye.” Nick laughed again, finishing the dregs of his beer and contemplating the road home. But his mind stuck again on these three brothers. Breezing in to town with their charm, and their money. Wanting a plane? That’s an odd one. Sure, a fair number of folk had planes in Holland Valley, but most of them used them for crop dusting, same as Nick, or for an easy means of travelling the county. Beat up old things on tiny strips of clear land that hardly counted for anything. Building a full on airstrip? For a cattle ranch? Seemed weird to Nick. And that John had been so charming, so polite, asking all the right questions, but said nothing about the note Nick left. He was thinking too much. They were just new and he was just curious. He wondered when he might meet them again.

#nick rye #john seed #I haven't written in fucking years omg

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