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silenceofthecookies · 4 years ago

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Gin Ichimaru x reader(F) - perspective

Okay so, story time, several years ago I promised @nakunakunomi I’d write her a Gin fanfic for her birthday. Time passed, I started writing in character, and I found out Gin is ridiculously hard to write for. I’ve started about 4 stories, all of which I ended up deleting because they didn’t fit Gin well enough to my liking. About 4 hours ago I got this idea, and I’ve been writing it non-stop since to just finish and publish this before I decided it was no good as well and deleted this as well.

Hazel, I am so sorry this took so long, I hope you like it!

Word count: 3344 Warnings: none

A young man had entered the castle. A commoner. Apparently he had helped out some soldiers capture an enemy spy. There was a war going on with the neighbouring country, and the situation had been tense lately. Spies were not uncommon, though they were hard to catch. This man had not only discovered one, he had also worked with the soldiers to apprehend the spy. The soldiers took him to the king so he could receive a reward for his deeds.

The man was long and slender, certainly not the kind of man you’d think of when you thought of a man who captured an enemy spy. If anything, he was exactly the kind of person you’d think of when imagining an enemy spy. His white hair hung partly over his face, hiding his eyes just a little from sight. But that was not what unnerved you about this man. It was the man’s smile. It was an eerie, long, stretched smile that almost made it seem like he was guarding a secret he would soon reveal. One that would lead to very negative consequences. You did not take your eyes off the man for as long as he was in the throne room.

Against your expectations, he did nothing that would worry you. The man simply accepted the reward from the king for his services and left. Your father had offered him to join the army, saying that surely with his abilities and intelligence he would quickly rise up the ranks, but the man had declined, saying that the life of a soldier was not one suited for him. You were glad when he was gone and let out a breath you were not aware you had been holding. The king laughed at your reaction, having been aware of your caution from the start, and warned you that men could not be judged on looks. You agreed with him and quickly composed yourself before the next person entered the throne room.

After the audiences were done, you went to the library to read a book while you waited for dinnertime. One of your personal maids, Rangiku, went with you.

“Shall I bring your tea to the library, your highness? Or will you be reading in your room?” “In the library is fine, thank you, Rangiku.”

The young woman bowed and left your side to go to the kitchen. You entered the library and took the same book you had been reading for a few days now. It was a romance novel. The protagonist was the daughter and second child of a merchant. Though she was not extremely wealthy, she was smart and beautiful, and she attracted many suitors from higher standing, who offered her father financial support for his company in return for his daughters hand in marriage. Her father refused them all, saying his daughter would marry out of love. After many hardships, she fell in love with a blacksmith’s assistant. He had little to no money to his name, but he was kind, respectful and romantic, and they were going to get married.

The thought seemed almost absurd to you. Didn’t commoners live a very hard life? Why would she turn down all those well-off suitors to go live with a blacksmiths boy? As she was the second child, her father’s company would go to her older brother. Why not marry a well-off man and live comfortably? It confused you so, that you decided to ask Rangiku about it when she arrived with your tea.

“Excuse me, your highness?” she asked, a little shocked as she heard your question. “I asked if it was hard living as a commoner. You once told me you were an orphan and you lived on the street for a while, right?” “That’s true but… your highness, if I might ask, where does this sudden question come from?”

You explained the story you were reading to her, and Rangiku’s eyes softened.

“To answer your question, yes, it was hard. However, it was not all bad. I lived together with another group of orphans. Sure, living wasn’t easy, but we were happy together. Having the right people around you can bring you more happiness than money ever could.” “I see… if they made you so happy, Rangiku, don’t you miss them now you work here?” “Of course I do, your highness. But I visit them regularly on my days off.” “I see… what are they like?”

Rangiku happily told you about the people she grew up with, people who were all like brothers and sisters to her. There were two people who she spoke of more than others though. They were Gin and Toshiro, her older and younger brother respectively. According to Rangiku Gin had a weird sense of humour, but he was very reliable. Toshiro on the other hand was way too serious, but he was always thinking about others. Seeing her face light up as she spoke about her little makeshift family made you think that maybe, the book that now lied neglected on the couch next to you was not just pretty words.

“They all sound so wonderful.” You told Rangiku as she finished talking. “They really are.” She agreed with a gentle smile on her face. “Do you think I could meet them?” you asked carefully, in a small voice. “Of course! If that is your highnesses’ wish, you could invite them here at any time, I’m sure they’d be honoured to-“ “Actually, I’d rather meet them at their home. And maybe without them knowing I’m the princess. I feel like… I don’t know… it would give me a better understanding of commoners and their life? Listening to you just made me realise that I have no idea how commoners live… but this country will be mine to rule one day…”

Rangiku’s eyes widened in surprise before an excited smile appeared on her face.

“Your highness, that is a fantastic idea! In that case, how about I bring you with me on my next day off? We’ll put you in one of the maid’s dresses and tell them that you’re another maid who grew up in the castle.” “Would that really be alright?” “Of course!”

You and Rangiku worked out all the details, how to sneak you out, how to make sure nobody would realise you were gone,… and then agreed that next Sunday, you’d head to the kitchen after breakfast and that you’d leave with Rangiku.

---

You adjusted the hood of your cloak as you walked through the gates of the castle. As the princess of this country, you had never been allowed to leave the castle without a guard and yet here you were, leaving the castle with a maid. You briefly wondered if this truly was a good idea, wondering what the consequences would be for both you and Rangiku in case you got caught, but these thoughts were soon banished from your mind when you came across a market in the castle town. Rangiku bought a pie from the baker. The baker happily chatted with Rangiku as she did so, and from their conversation it was clear that Rangiku did this every time she went home. After a while of walking, the two of you left the walls of the castle town and walked in between the fields that surrounded it. There were a lot of farmers out on the fields, watering their crops and milking their cows. Most of them waved at Rangiku as she passed by, and Rangiku happily waved back. Several of them yelled ‘good morning’ and ‘have a safe trip’ as well from across their fields, and the happy atmosphere caught hold of you. You had always thought that commoners were unhappy because they did not have a lot of money, but perhaps Rangiku was right. Maybe happiness required the right people around you instead of a lot of money.

Not too long after the two of you left the castle walls, a small house came into sight. It looked a bit old and worn-out and it was clear that there had been work done to patch it up here and there. In fact, as you approached, you noticed a small figure sitting on the roof, attaching a few new planks to the roof.

“Toshiro!” Rangiku called out. The young man jumped at the sound a little and turned around. You immediately recognised the name. “Welcome back Rangiku. I’ll be down after I’ve fixed this. There’s a small leak in the roof.” “Take your time~” “Who’s that with you?” “This is Shiori, we work together at the castle.”

You resisted the urge to curtsy at the introduction. Shiori had been the name you to picked to cover up your identity, but Shiori was an attendant of the princess, not the princess herself.

“Nice to meet you, Shiori, I’m Toshiro.” The young man showed a small smile as he addressed you. “Nice to meet you, Toshiro.” You answered with a smile of your own. “Toshiro! Where is Gin?” Rangiku asked once introductions were over. “He’s out helping the old man next door with milking the cows, his son is sick. He should be back any time now.” “Alright~ Come in, Shiori, I’ll make us some time. Toshiro, come down soon too, I’ve got pie~”

Toshiro did not reply, instead the sound of hammering was soon heard again. Once you entered the house, it sounded extra loud, but you would bear it for a little. For now though, you were more distracted by the interior of the house. You had never been in a commoner’s house before. Everything was dark because the windows were small, there was very little furniture, and most of what was visible seemed older than you. It was truly a culture shock. Rangiku started boiling a big pot of tea.

“It’s not much, but make yourself at home. I’ll prepare some tea and cut the pie already.”

You somewhat carefully sat down on a chair, wondering if it would give out under your weight. It didn’t take long for Toshiro to come back in. Rangiku put down cups of tea and handed out plates with pie, both were made of simply, unpainted clay. They were very different from the cups and plates you had back in the castle.

As you were enjoying the refreshments, you found out that most of the people Rangiku had mentioned no longer lived with them. Most had taken up trades and were living with their masters. Some others had moved town, hoping to find happiness somewhere else. Only Gin and Toshiro had remained in the house. They made a living by tending to a patch of land that as attached to their house and by helping the farmer, who was also their landlord.

Just when you were starting to relax and enjoy the company, a fourth person entered the small home. As you looked up, your heart sank. It was the man you had seen at the castle, the one with the unnerving smile. Certainly he would recognise you. His eyes lingered a second on you before he turned to Rangiku, his smile never wavering.

“Rangiku, who did you bring with you?” “This is Shiori, she works at the castle too. I talk about you two all the time so she wanted to come with me. Shiori, this is Gin.” “Nice to meet you” Your voice came out shaky, partially because of the fear of being recognised, partially because of his face. “Nice to meet you, Shiori. Oh by the way, Rangiku, did you know I went by the castle last week?” “What? No way! And you didn’t come say hi to me?!”

As Rangiku got the details from Gin about his business in the castle, you let out a shaky breath. Did he not recognise you? Certainly not, otherwise he would have treated you differently, right? This was good, your cover was safe.

“Wait, Gin, you refused the king’s offer to join the army despite him offering you a higher position from the start?!” “Yeah.” “Are you mad?! Those guys earn good money!” “Aw come on, Rangiku. Then Toshiro would’ve been lonely.” “I would definitely be happier without you around!” Toshiro yelled. He had been silent ever since Gin had entered and he had seemed more tense too. “Of course he would have been! Then he and Momo could’ve lived here together~!” Rangiku quipped in. “Wha-?! Rangiku!” Toshiro yelled, a light pink dusting his cheeks. Rangiku and Gin laughed. “Yeah, maybe I should have thought about that earlier~” Gin joked. “As if, you just don’t want to work for the king because you hate that guys guts, right?” Toshiro asked. “Toshiro!” Rangiku lightly slapped his arm. “What?! I know you work in the castle, but that’s not changing the situation!” Toshiro yelled.

You looked in confusion between the three. Your father was a beloved king, right? Why did they act this way? Rangiku noticed and immediately tried to steer away from the subject.

“Oh I’m so sorry you have to see this, Shiori. Toshiro, Gin, we have a guest. Let’s not do this now.” She said. “Oh come on, Rangiku. Certainly she’s just as fed-up with the king as we are. Aren’t you, Shiori?” Gin asked, his attention, and grin, now directed at you. “I…I think he’s a fair king.” You said. “Let me guess, you were born in the castle?” “Yes…I was. What does that have to do with it?” “It means you lack perspective. The king wanted more power, so he started a war with the neighbouring country. To pay for said war, he’s raising taxes.” “Yes, but when he wins the spoils from the war will certainly be plentiful.” “When? You’re naïve, aren’t you? If. If he wins. And on top of that, those spoils will go into his pocket, not ours. And then we’re not even talking about the people who have died fighting this stupid war. Do you know how many have already died? How many more need to die for that bastard to fill his pockets? The king is a greedy son of a bitch, that’s what he is.” Gin spoke calmly, as if reading a line from a book. And yet, there was something menacing about his tone. There was a certain edge to it. One that made you very nervous. “I…I think the king is doing what he thinks is best for the kingdom.” “By killing his people and robbing them blind with taxes?” “I… I cannot deny that that’s happening, but I truly believe the king means well. Maybe… he’s lacking perspective.”

Gin’s grin grew and Rangiku was about to get up and drag you away before Gin got up and got closer to you.

“Let’s say you’re right. He’s still doing bad stuff. He only has people advising him who will also fill their pockets after the war. His perspective will never expand. He has no-one around who has the guts to point out his mistakes.” “The why don’t you join the army and become that person?” “Because the moment I speak up, I will be branded a rebel and executed, that’s why. Life is not that fair, young lady. Usually when you point out mistakes to nobles and royals, they’ll have you hung.”

Your head dropped. He was right, whenever someone was rude to a royal, said royal needed but say the word and the offender was executed. Nobles had the same power to a certain extent. In the past, it has been used to repress rebellions by your ancestors. And you had never thought anything of it, you had seen it as normal.

“Gin! That’s enough!” Rangiku huffed, pushing Gin out of your face. “Aww don’t be so serious, Rangiku. I was only playing teasing her~” “You were harassing her, Gin.” “Oh, was I? I’m sorry, Shiori~”

His apology was light-hearted and sounded as a joke. As if he did something funny. Rangiku continued to scold him for a little longer, before stepping back and grabbing your cloaks.

“I think we should leave, Shiori. I’m sorry about my brother.” “It’s alright, Rangiku. He… he had a point.” Rangiku stared at you in shock as you put your cloak on. “Despite the topic just now, I had fun while I was here. Would it be alright if I came with you more often?” “O-of course. If that’s what you want…”

You thanked Toshiro and Gin for their hospitality and left their home, Rangiku following behind you in a daze. The sound of the door closing behind her seemed to snap her out of it, and she quickly ran up to walk besides you.

“Your highness, I am so sorry for Gin’s behaviour. He was out of line, talking about your father like that.” “No, Rangiku, he wasn’t. He voiced his a opinion. Gave me a perspective I never even thought about. As the future queen of this country, I need to hear things like this. The rich are only a small portion of this country, yet it’s the only view I know. Sure, it hurt to hear him speak about my father like that… but I want to be a good queen. I want to make the people happy. All of them, not just the rich. I can’t keep walking with my eyes shielded from the ugly truth.”

Rangiku was unsure of what to say to you as she continued walking besides you on your way back to the castle. Unknown to you, Gin, who had been listening to the conversation from next to a window that was open, grinned and walked back to the kitchen, where Toshiro was still drinking his tea.

---

Your little escapade had gone by without a problem. Nobody every knew you were gone, so nobody got in trouble. That had been a few days ago now, but Gin’s words were still etched into your mind. You pondered over them as you read several books about history and politics, trying to think about them from a commoners perspective as much as you could, the romance novel you were reading long forgotten.

You tucked the books you wanted to read under your arm, ready to bring them to your room with you to enjoy them in the safety of your room. As you walked though a hallway, a man in light armour walked by. It wasn’t uncommon, as the strategy room was close to the library. What was uncommon though, was the man’s white hair. As you got closer, you realised exactly who that was.

“Gin?” you gasped. “Good evening, your highness. Or can I call you Shiori? Wait, your real name was Y/N, right? Can’t I just call you that? I do hate formalities, certainly when you’ve visited my house already.” “I- Wha- You knew?” “Oh yes, all along. You’re not very subtle, you know that?” “But, I thought you hated my father? Did you change your mind?” “Oh no, not at all. I still can’t stand the guy. But I heard the princess needed to hear the opinions of the commoners.” “You overheard that?!” “The walls of our house aren’t nearly as thick as the castle walls, my lady.” “So… you came here to help me?” “I had three reasons for doing this. That is one of them.” “What are the other two?” “Easy. Toshiro has a girlfriend and I’m pretty sure he wants to marry her, but as long as I live at home nothing is going to happen.” “And the last?” “Oh, the third reason?”

Gin stepped closer to you, which in turn made you step back. You continued retreating as he kept advancing until your back was against the wall. He stared at you, that unnerving smile of his present as always.

“Because you caught my eye, Y/N.”

Your eyes widened and you felt your cheeks heat up. Before you could even process the words, Gin was already continuing down the hallway.

“Anyway, I have a meeting with the king. Have a nice day, your highness~”

#gin ichimaru x reader #gin ichimaru imagine #bleach x reader #bleach imagine #gin ichimaru #bleach #cookie writes #scenario #gift work #nakunakunomi

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filmista · 4 years ago

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Vertigo (1958)

“Here I was born, and there I died. It was only a moment for you; you took no notice.”

Alfred Hitchcock was generally a no-nonsense man who, when interviewed about his work, kept on talking about plot and audience manipulation: how do I keep the audience in suspense with a good story? Intellectual, thematic discussions of his own work were largely foreign to him, but of course that doesn’t mean that those themes were not there.

Fear of the irrational, a perverted sexuality and obsessive thoughts were just a few of his hobbyhorses, which, consciously or otherwise, popped up again and again. And that may never have been more the case than in "Vertigo," his most personal and complex film.

At the time, the film didn’t receive good reviews and the public wasn’t interested either, but over the years its reputation grew, until it was routinely included in lists of the greatest films of all time. Most Hitchcock films show the director as a professional. "Vertigo" shows him as an artist.

James Stewart plays John "Scottie" Ferguson, a police inspector who sees a colleague jump off a rooftop. Physically injured and mentally traumatised he decides to say goodbye to old job, only to be hired as a private investigator shortly after by his old school friend Gavin Elster (Tom Helmore). Gavin's wife Madeleine’s (the unforgettable Kim Novak) behaviour becomes increasingly absent, she makes long journeys through the city and speaks increasingly about death and suicide.

Scottie starts to follow here and slowly but surely he discovers that Madeleine believes she is possessed by the ghost of Carlotta Valdes, a woman who died tragically many years before. He also discovers that he fell in love, perhaps for the first time. Scottie becomes dangerously obsessed with Madeleine.

And that romantic-erotic obsession is an immediately important theme of "Vertigo". Basically this is a movie about people in love with people they can’t be with. Scottie falls for Madeleine, who - beyond the fact that she’s the wife of his friend - also lives under the delusion that she is possessed by the ghost of a dead person.

Meanwhile, Midge (Barbara Bel Geddes), a friend of Scottie’s is in love with him, without Scottie seeming to realise it or feeling the need to correspond that love. The characters are frustrated from the start, and the events in the film only serve to trigger those frustrations to a critical.

Madeleine kills herself by jumping from a church tower. Scottie's fear of heights prevents him from stopping her, and afterwards he stays behind with a sky-high sense of guilt. several months later he meets Judy (again Novak), who bears an eerie physical resemblance to Madeleine. He talks to her and as the two enter into a relationship he purposefully changes her appearance to that of Madeleine (clothes, haircut, and so on).

He uses Judy as blank canvas on which to bring Madeleine back to life, and she allows that. Why? Because Judy was hired by Gavin to frame Scottie. Gavin killed his wife and threw her body down from the tower.

Scottie's story made that no one would have trouble accepting the suicide. Undercover Judy, however, really falls in love with Scottie. Which immediately causes the third unrequited love in the movie - Scottie doesn't feel anything for Judy, he was in love with Madeleine, with the fictional creation Judy and Gavin had made for him. With which Hitchcock reintroduced a time-honoured question: when we fall in love with someone, do we feel affection for that person themselves, or for the image we’ve imagined of that person.

That was a very personal theme for Hitchcock. He was himself Married for more than 50 years to his wife Alma Reville, but his movies are packed with icy blondes who in most of his stories who in most of his work have to endure at least one scene of mental humiliation or physical pain. From his work speaks a very ambiguous attitude towards women, and in "Vertigo” director decides to study that for the first time, on a psychologically profound level.

After all, what else does a director do other than fill the actress’s empty canvas with the behaviours and appearance that he himself has in mind to make his film? Judy / Madeleine is dominated by two men in the movie (or, if you like, directed): first off camera by Gavin, then by Scottie. In who she herself is, neither gentlemen are interested.

Visually, "Vertigo" is probably Hitchcock's most ambitious film, in the sense that there is a strong symbolism throughout the film.With important roles for the colors green, red, yellow and blue. Green is continuously associated with Madeleine, her green dress when we first see her, her green car to the natural green that often surrounds them. Why specifically that color?

Green is traditionally the color of jealousy, and further it provides a kind of traffic light contrast with the red identifying Scottie: just look at his red ties, his red front door and the bright red interior of his favourite restaurant, where some important scenes take place.

Scottie is someone who until he meets Madeleine, keeps romantic feelings at bay as much as possible: he pretends he doesn’t understand Midge’s advances, has never married and prefers to be so.

He is a rational man, who rejects everything that threatens his rational, carefully demarcated world (including powerful emotions such as love). When Gavin is asked at the start of the film if he believes in ghosts, he answers immediately, resolute and without thinking "no". As the story continues that certainty crumbles - as is often the case with Hitchcock, rationality disappears the life of the main character.

During a key scene in a forest, Madeleine walks away from Scottie as if in a trance, only to disappear behind a tree. Scottie stares dubiously: Where has she gone? Suddenly disappeared as the ghost she is? No, of course not, she’s standing just behind the tree, but Scottie (and the audience) are in doubt briefly.

Yellow then is the color of Midge, a safe, warm color which suggests homeliness. Her relationship with Scottie is in part love, partly motherly. And blue than reappears when the feelings of guilt of the characters returns (note Scotties bright blue suits during the second half of the film). The visual motifs of ‘Vertigo’ don’t end there - spiral forms constantly return as a visual representation of Scottie’s dizziness and then of course there's the infamous technique that Hitchcock used to zoom in while he camera physically moves backwards, which made Scotties fear of heights palpable. It's perhaps one of the most imitated shots in film history.

James Stewart had played darker roles more often than ever since the 1950s (as opposed to his overbearingly wholesome image that he acquired in the 30′s in films like ‘It’s a Wonderful Life ’and‘ Mr Smith Goes to Washington ’). He knows how to give Scottie real emotional depth, nominally the hero of the movie, but actually a mentally deeply hurt person.

His monologue at the end, in which he confronts Judy / Madeleine and his own anxiety is probably one of the best moments from his career. Kim Novak, who during the first half hour of the film has almost no lines plays the ultimate Hitchcock blonde with Madeleine: cool, distant, troubled and - for the hero at least - irresistible. The complete opposite way in she plays Judy indicates how good and varied her register as an actress was.

"Vertigo" is a slow, methodical film, especially according to current standards. It’s a film that requires patience, but one that also rewards that patience. Thematically, this is without a doubt the best film that Hitchcock has ever - not to mention his most daring - visually its his most complex and thoughtful. With "Vertigo", Hitchcock faced some of his own demons. The confrontation resulted in unforgettable cinema.

@idasessions @mad-prophet-of-the-airwaves @siobhanlovesfilm @purecinema

#back with a new movie analysis!#vertigo #50’s cinema #vertigo 1958 #alfred hitchock #kim novak #movies #films #cinema #review #film analysis #filmista

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little-kat07 · 4 years ago

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Unrequited Roceit, endgame logince, and endgame dukeceit idea where Roman and Janus are a double dancing and singing act (think like the musical Chicago) and are in a relationship as well. Roman is just happy to have a career with the love of his life, while Janus is MUCH more interested in fame and money- with or without Roman.

Janus: The press LOVES us! My act is wonderful and the producers can’t ignore it for long.

Roman: You mean OUR act?

Janus: Right. OUR act.

Roman soon meets Logan, a Broadway director who offers them an audition for a play. Musicals and Theater isn’t usually what they do, but they need the money. During the audition-

Logan: *clapping* That was amazing!

Roman: *breathless* You really think so?

Logan: You are going to go far in the world with that kind of talent, Roman. We’ll see you at the first rehearsal.

Janus: Wait- what about me?

Logan: Janus... you were amazing. You have so much talent, and it really pains me to say it’s not what we’re looking for. I’m sure there are lots of other directors who-

Roman is PAINFULLY oblivious to the fact Janus doesn’t care about him, so he stands up for his ‘boyfriend’.

Roman: What? You can’t reject him! Logan, I’ve been by Janus’s side in our career for decades. Either you take both of us or neither.

Logan: I... I suppose we can find a role for Janus.

Roman and Janus travel from Atlanta to New York, where their career is supposed to start.

Logan can tell Janus doesn’t care about Roman, and is heartbroken that Roman would stand up for the snake so easily. But he’s not supposed to get involved with the personal affairs of actors, so he tries not to think about it too much.

He has a hard time with that since during rehearsal, Roman won’t stop being so fucking adorable all the time.

Logan: Hold on, Roman, could you-

Roman: Okay okay so I know what you’re going to say but I DIDN’T MEAN TO RAISE THAT LAST NOTE, It just felt really right and I can totally stop, but I actually had a little riff on the end there I wanted to do if I could and I know it’s really confusing and I’m rambling but please?

Logan: ...I was going to say move a bit to the left, but go ahead.

Janus is VERY AWARE that Logan and Roman have chemistry, and normally he wouldn’t care since he doesn’t actually love Roman but this time, his ticket to fame and glory is riding on the fact that Roman stays with him, so he tries to intercept their relationship.

...at the very same time that Remus, (who is Logan’s brother in this AU and i’m so sorry to intrulogical shippers) wants Roman and Logan to get together. He has been waiting for Logan to find love for so long and he is NOT about to let some snake boi take away his brother’s happiness.

So, Janus and Remus have a huge, unspoken battle over getting Roman and Logan together OR keeping them apart. Remus sets them up to be alone together, Janus sabotages it or gets there at the exact time and drives Roman away.

Janus: What is your PROBLEM?

Remus: What is MY deal? Uh, bitch, what is YOUR deal?

Janus: My financial and social future depends on Roman and Logan staying apart. I need Roman to get me to fame. YOU need to stay out of it.

Remus: Logan is my brother who up until this point was lonely as fuck. I’m not letting you break his only chance at happiness. You don’t even LOVE Roman!

Janus: Can you not talk so loud? Someone is going to hear us.

Remus: Maybe I WANT THEM TO!

Janus: *puts a hand over Remus’s mouth* Keep quiet, rat.

Remus: *licks it*

Janus: EW!! EW EW EW- WHAT THE FUCK, REMUS?

Remus: *cackling*

Roman hears.

That’s really all you need to know- He was right outside when Remus and Janus had that conversation. He stormed back to his room of the hotel and waited for Janus to come back, where they broke up and Janus took his things and left.

This is where things get interesting...

Remus: *knocks on janus’s hotel room door* Uh... snake?

Janus: *muffled grumbling* *opens the door* Yes?

Remus: *trying to smother his worried feelings* Hey snake bitch! I noticed you haven’t tried to... sabatoge any of my plans lately.

Janus: Y e s.

Remus: ...and I was just wondering why? I-I mean I just feel like you’re planning something. What are you planning?

Janus: ...your futile attempts at being aggressive amuse me. I’ll tell you.

Janus has been feeling strange lately. He tells Remus how he and Roman go together- They had been best friends in highschool, and Janus actually did like Roman once. They used to be an inseparable couple, it was only when Janus realized Roman had talent that could bring him glory, did he begin to stop caring. Now that they’ve broken up, it’s hard to say whether Janus MISSES Roman- because he doesn’t, not really, it’s not about Roman as a person. He missed the feeling of being cared for by someone, being held like fame and money didn’t matter, those little moments Janus missed so achingly much because he thought he would ALWAYS have them- and now he doesn’t, and he doesn’t know what to do with himself.

Remus: ...why did you tell me all that?

Janus: My life feels pretty shitty at the moment and I don’t see how spilling my guts to someone who’s already familiar with my less than pretty personality could bring me any lower.

Remus isn’t quite sure what to do with this information, he’s spent his entire time going up against Janus and hating him. Now he doesn’t see what he knew as Janus, he sees a confused and self-depreciating person- and he feels bad. But he knows he SHOULDN’T, he shouldn’t feel bad because Janus is the bad guy, Janus is the villain in the story-

But he isn’t anymore. This is what the villain looks like AFTER the fairytale, after the hero beats them- confused, lonely, and... crying?

oH my god, Janus is crying, do something, help him, holy fuck, nOoooOOO-

Meanwhile, Logan comforts Roman.

Logan: ...I should have done something. I KNEW that snake was bad news. Now he-

Roman: I’m quitting.

Logan: I- what?

Roman: I’m quitting- Janus still has his role in the play, I don’t want to spend another second looking at him. He can have his fame and his money, I don’t care about revenge, I just wanna go home.

Logan: But- Roman, no- You have so much talent! You could show him up, get famous, spread your story in the papers and never have to deal with anything like that again-

Roman: I’m sorry, Logan- I’m not mad at him. I couldn’t care less about what happens to him- I’m going home.

Logan: Back to Atlanta??

Roman: Yeah... *sniffle* Atlanta. Or maybe Marietta, or somewhere in that area. Northern Georgia, basically- I don’t know how I can go back to Atlanta right now, not with all the memories and stuff.

Logan: But... Roman... what about me?

Roman: Huh?

Logan: I-I mean, what about everyone else? Virgil, Patton, and Remus- you’re just going to leave all of us behind? (he laughs, almost hysterically) how- how am I gonna find anyone on the face of the earth who can fit your role?

Roman: Oh, come on Lo. I’m sure anybody can fit my role in the play, it’s a simple character and-

Logan: N-Not that, Roman- Your role in our lives? How am I- How am I going to find anyone I love like I love you?

Cue crying confession, adorableness, all that Jazz. Logince pining FINALLY comes to a close- And the rest of the fic would focus more on the Dukeceit aspect.

Remus, at some point, comes to the glaring realization that he ENJOYED bickering and fighting with Janus. He almost stops BREATHING when he finds that, in fact, he likes JANUS.

Like, Like-likes janus. (No, the L-word isn’t available yet sorry lmao)

Janus figures out pretty quickly that he likes Remus but he just came out of an awful relationship in which HE was the manipulative one, and he really isn’t in the mood to focus on romance right now. Partly for fear that he’ll hurt Remus like he hurt Roman, and partly because nOT EVERYTHING HAS TO REVOLVE AROUND ROMANCE, HE STILL HAS BILLS TO PAY AND JOBS TO WORK, YOU HEATHENS-

Anyway, we have a couple of chapters dedicates to healing the tear in Roman and Janus’s platonic relationship. Janus works hard to try and show Roman he can be trusted as just a friend. (When I say works hard I mean WORKS HARD. I mean, remember what he did? It’s gonna take some work to sift through this.) Eventually, Roman and Logan (newly dating) have a little talk about Janus’s attempts.

Logan: I just- I get that he’s trying to heal it, but... I don’t know. I think I’m just being protective because you two dated once and I thought, if you fell for him once... you might again. And then, he might hurt you again, or even WORSE, he won’t hurt you at all and I’ll have lost you to him permanently.

Roman: ...guess what?

Logan: What?

Roman: When I look at him, I feel nothing!!! :D

Logan: ...nothing?

Roman: *grinning* Nothing at all! Now that I look at him, he’s not even cute!

Logan and Roman continue to burst into laughter.

One day, this happens:

Roman and Remus: *being lovable chaotic idiots*

Logan: *sighs* Why do we love them?

Janus: No clue.

Logan: *eyebrow raise*

Janus: waIT WAIT Okay look I didn’t mean Roman, okay, I- I meant Remus, and- Wait no I- UGH! *slams head on table*

Logan: *smirks* You like my brother. I knew it.

Janus: I’m so sorry I keep falling for people you know.

A couple chapters dedicated to having funny group bonding time, until this happens-

Janus: *acting on stage* If only someone were to look at me with the eyes that Jeremiah does with Her, I might finally be complete and live on to learn to love. My heart-

Remus: *from the audience* I will!

Janus: *pauses and turns to look out* What?

Remus *waving frantically* I’ll look at you with eyes! I’m not sure how else I would look at you, so I’ll do the eyes!

Janus: ...What?

Remus: *groans* JUST DATE ME ALREADY!

Janus: *taken aback* Uh. Okay.

Remus: Wait, seriously?

Janus: Darling, just shut up, I’m doing a scene here...

Remus: :D

And they all lived. Happily ever after? Who knows. But they lived, and that was enough for them.

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

Do what you will with this idea! Tag me if you write or draw something though-

Reposts are appreciated!!!

#sanders sides #tss fandom #tss #tss fanfic #logince #dukeceit #demus #trashnoodle #ts logince #ts fanfic #sanders sides fic #ts dukeceit #ts demus #i'm bored

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letfatewritethewords · 3 years ago

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I process things with art. I process with written words in the hopes that one day it can be spoken without my voice shaking. This week has been one for the books.. and I decided to share. This is long, but I want to remember what I’m learning.. how I’m processing.. if you decide to read, thank you. If not, this will still be here as a reminder of my progress every year.

I always tell people that there was no reason for my name, but it’s a lie. I’m named after Samantha on BeWitched. My grandfather loved that show and suggested it when my mother couldn’t decide. I was born in early September and that makes me a Virgo. Astrology is one of my favorite things. There’s something extraordinary about the idea that we’re connected to the universe by the positioning of the stars. Sometimes it’s so vague.. but other times, it’s right on the nose and my horoscopes will make me cry. Speaking of that, I’m an empath and a 2. When I’m unhealthy, I’m a 4 and If you know what any of that means, I’d love to talk to you more about it. Winter is my favorite season. Fall is a close second. I love the snow and how muted everything is. I like the quiet, the beauty. Sometimes, the light from the sun will shimmer off a fresh coat of snow on the ground. It is absolutely blinding, but I’d still stare, and when the snow fell at night, I’d watch it under the street light across from my house and it felt like time stood still. When I was little, I would lay in the yard full of snow, alone, in my puffy suite, until my fingers and toes would go numb from the cold, listening to the silence, but the best part of those days was going back into my grandparents house and warming up with hot coco made on the stove, wrapping myself in a soft blanket and watching old movies with my grandfather. To me, the Winter is magical. My love languages are Quality Time and Acts of Service. I’m an introvert but I love people. I like to observe, I like to really understand how the mind works and Im eager to help. I thrive in controlled chaos. I like puzzles, I love music, I like crafts, I like to fix things because grandpa always taught me that nothing is to broken to fix. Nothing. No one.

This is the light. This is the part of me that I give willingly to anyone I meet. I wear it on my sleeve. It’s only the light. Until the last 2 years.. this was all I could give of myself because I’ve always been scared of the dark.

The darkest part of me lasted 8 years, my rock bottom lasted 4.5, but as a whole it’s taken up almost 12 years of my life. Sometimes I worry that all I'm ever going to be is this thing that happened to me. That this will define me for the rest of my life and I need to remind myself that I’m a person that can live separate from an event.

I went to the police station this week, I filled out more forms. I’ve filled out so many forms over the last 2 years. For an emergency restraining order this time. For Florida this time. I knew it would eventually follow me here but typhus felt too soon. The clerk called me brave. I smile and thank them every time but I never know how to respond to that. She has no idea how weak it feels and I mean.. how could she. This is the right choice, the obvious choice, the smart choice. In a different situation, it’s one of the many steps I’d be urging someone else to take. In all the chaos, all the hurt, in all the anger and sadness.. it always circles back to “I loved him”. I did. I wanted to fix him. I wanted to see him grow and heal and if I loved him hard enough for the both of us, it would’ve evened out eventually… right?

I failed.

He was always who he was, but I was young and naive and ready to fix the whole world. When I was 18 and we were free, I would’ve told you he saved me. Now that I’m in my 30’s… and he’s in prison and I’m in limbo.. I don’t know what I’d tell you. He didn’t save me, but he didn’t destroy me either. I had every opportunity to tap out and give up.. but I grew into a person I might not have been if I never met him.

Am I angry? All of the time.

Am I scared? Yes.

I see things more clearly now though. People talk about how you never know someone’s story, and that’s because we are experts at playing pretend like we have it all figured out until we’re alone and have to face truest selves. The facade is the hardest thing to give up. Some people saw through mine and there are others, who have built their own, that never will. I share posts about what I’ve learned, how I see people, how I’ve try to treat people with grace and teach children with love and patience in hopes that a little of that sinks into whoever it reaches, but I very rarely show the journey. Partly because I know the details are gruesome and that’s not for everyone, but mostly because I’m scared.

How will you see me?

What will you think?

I’m learning that I’m not this big awful thing that happened to me. I was never anyone’s property and I’m not chained to it anymore. I was very much lied to and manipulated and hurt long enough that it flipped onto me and I carried it without missing a step. I wanted to love him so much that I would heal him. Instead, he “loved” me so much it almost killed me, and he did call it love. Enough times that he re-defined it and I didn’t use that word for a very long time in any meaningful situation. He, for better or for worse, drastically changed the trajectory of my life.

But it’s ok.

I’m wounded but I’m healing. I’m lonely, but I’m learning how to slowly welcome more people in and step out of my comfort zone. If I’m being honest, I’m relearning a lot of things, including how to exist in a world where I have room to make mistakes and fail. I can say or do the wrong thing and be gently corrected for it by my people and move on … sans violence. There are no words for amount of relief I feel because of that truth.

Is it over? No.

He was sentenced to 7 years last year and every year around mid July early August there is an opportunity to apply for an appeal based on his behavior, which will always be immaculate because he is not as tough as he thinks he is. This means that if he applies and it goes to trial, I’m also notified and have to reappear, show any new evidence, and reexplain why he needs to stay there for the safety of others and myself. Telling my story once a year on a whim to a room full of strangers, always men, so they can decide my fate, as well as the fate of this “upstanding young man with a good head on his shoulders” (actual words used during my initial rape/domestic abuse trial against him), was never what I imagined finally turning him in would look like. I really never thought that after everything, his sentence wouldn’t even be as long as our relationship. The original sentence was 5 years. After he got out on a Governor Cuomo Covid related prison loophole and broke his parole almost immediately, he was sentenced to another 2 on top of that. He has 6 left. We talk about how flawed our system is, but really seeing it is a different kind of punch. Women aren’t believed. There’s a reason so many of these crimes go unreported, and why so many women die at the hands of angry men. The hoops you have to jump through are miles high and on fire, and when you and the advocate show up armed only with your truth, your tears and a little evidence from one night at a bar when he got to drunk and forgot he was in public, it’s very easy for a judge to rule on the softer side. Because, as you all know, we’d never want to ruin a wealthy mans life unless there’s cold, hard, reason to.

Seeing his face when they read out his sentence, after years of terror, was satisfying to say the least and if I hadn’t been so numb to get through the hearing, I would’ve enjoyed it more. I will never forget going to a trusted friends house after that hearing and being completely overwhelmed with all of the emotions. Relief, guilt, sadness, anger, happiness, fear.. so many I couldn’t express.. all at once because the novocain wears off and numb isn’t forever and I fell asleep with their dog after a lot of crying. I’d be lying though if I said that 18 year old in me didn’t feel a loss. I grew up with incredible grandparents that did amazing things in teaching me how to love people and be a good human, but no one can protect us from everything. I also grew up with a mother who fights demons of her own and never had the capacity to love two kids. In a situation like that, someone becomes the punching bag. I became the punching bag and desperately looked for ways out, an opportunity to run.. and I ran right into him, who accepted me with open arms for the first time in my young, very inexperienced life.. and I followed him blindly and he was my whole world. Until I was 27, I didn’t have a guide. By the grace of God I landed into a community in Florida that slowly helped me realize my worth.

So.. what now.

How do we fix what our parents and past broke?

How do you reparent yourself?

The mental health journey is proving to be my biggest struggle yet. There’s no more outside factors, it’s just me and the lies that have fed me for years and altered how I think and feel and understand the world. I can feel myself frustrating people I’ve let close to me. I feel myself getting nervous and pushing people away. Sometimes I can catch it and regroup, other times that nasty little voice is too loud and I’m exhausted. My goodness though, how cool is it to learn so much about yourself? I know I have the capacity to love that broken part of me eventually, but it’s still hard to face. Getting to learn and understand the reason behind your actions is terrifyingly amazing. I am proud of this journey. Even when I don’t always come up on top. It’s hard to see the progress while you’re in it, but laying it all out like this.. I can safely say I’m never going to be that 18 year old girl ever again. Some days this journey looks different, some days the darkness wins, because healing isn’t linear. Sometimes it’s one step forward, 2 steps back… but nothing is too broken to fix.. and I will never call that darkness home again.

#lonliness #abuse survivor #survivor #domestic violent relationships #domestic violence #processing

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joy1579 · 5 years ago

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The RFA boys and how they express love

I swear someday I’ll play jaehee’s route and I’ll come update this to include her but right now I’m on the route of pain and sorrow and I don’t know how to stop. its only like day 4 of the “another story route” and I don’t see this shiz getting any less painful. if anyone wants to send me jumin or yoosung fluff it would be much appreciated oh and also is there an easier way to tag?

anyways without further ado. I hope you guys enjoy my take on how the RFA boys express their love.

Jumin

If its planned: spoiling you he buys gifts. he loves your smile when he surprises you with a gift and you love the goofy grin on his face when he gets to spoil you. At first it made you nervous. You didn’t like the idea that he thought he had to buy your love. You didn’t want him thinking you stayed with him just because of the money, especially since you would gladly stay with him even if he had nothing. You confronted him about this after your first valentines together. You didn’t plan on crying though and the second the first tear fell you could see Jumin’s heart break. He explained that he wasn’t giving you gifts to make you stay, he bought you gifts because he would pass by something and think of you. He bought you gifts because even the thought of your smile made his day better. he bought you gifts because he loved you and not to make you love him. You launched yourself at him catching him off guard you tumbled to the floor together as you nuzzled into his chest. He laughed at your antics as he wrapped his arms around you in kind.

If its unplanned: physical affection He isn’t used to affection. Especially romantic affection so his tolerance is fairly low. He can tend to get swept up in the heat of his emotions so when he gets overwhelmed by his feelings towards you there’s only really one outlet. (wink wink) he doesn’t enjoy PDA however so more often than not he’ll whisk you away to somewhere private. The second his lips meet yours you practically drown in his passion and you wonder how anyone could call this man a robot when he his every movement was filled with love and heart. You suppose you could be the only one who has the privilege of seeing him like that and pride wells up within you as you lean into his embrace. You love him like this just like you love him when he sits at his desk working intently. Everything about him seems to call out to you and in this moment you hope he can feel it.

Yoosung

If its planned: games with you fun it this cutie pies middle name. he plans dates complete with games and roleplaying adventures (look at his valentines DLC where y’all played like it was your first date). He enjoys nothing more than seeing you laugh and play with him. Sometimes he worries you won’t take him seriously though especially after someone else treats him like a child. You always know this has happened because he’s not up for your normal games. He gets agitated when you call him puppy and cutie. This is your cue to remind him that being cute doesn’t make him less manly. You tell him you love his cute side because no matter how hard your day was he never fails to make you smile. You remind him you chose him. You chose him and no one else.

If it isn’t planned: takes care of you this precious boy is all about acts of service. You wonder if it has anything to do with his Kink desire for praise. He wants to do things for you. Anything! He likes to cook for you and help you study or teach you a new mechanic in your game. It makes him feel strong even if he can’t beat someone in a fist fight. The more he helps you the more useful and secure he feels. You assure him that he doesn’t have to do anything to earn your love and affection “you just have to be yourself puppy! I love you for you not what you do!” but you let him keep doing things because it gives you a good excuse to praise him and the look in his eyes when you praise him it far too good to give up. He gets all red and starry eyed you could almost swear he’s having an out of body experience. You’ll admit you get a bit uneasy when other people praise him because of this though, that being said you don’t want to stop it if it makes him happy. So instead you simply double up on your cuddles and praise when you get home.

Saeyoung

If its planned: hand made gifts for Saeyoung a gift means nothing if it’s not personalized. When he gives a gift its always handmade or hand built maybe. Either way its hours spent to prove how much he cares about you. You can guarantee that a gift from him is more than the sum of its parts. He likes watching you interact with his latest gadget discovering all its hidden uses and programs. His favorite part is when he can tell its surprised you, he thinks the mixture of shock and mirth on you face is the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. Every gift he gives you gets increasingly complex, from that first robotic cat made to simply keep you company to his latest gift which even after 3 months your still finding new things the glowing long cat robot (extendo-elly the 4th) can do.

If its unplanned humor he loves to make you smile. His jokes and memelord nature wasn’t completely for show. He genuinely enjoys seeing you laugh. He’s constantly looking for new ways to have you ROTFL’ing. Once he sent you a meme completely in binary just so he could watch you translate it and face palm while you giggled to yourself. He considers the times when you punch him playfully tears of laughter in your eyes to be a rousing success. He learned pretty fast you enjoyed his cosplay that you always thought one of two things. You either thought it was beautiful or you had to practically bite you hand to stop your giggles. His showmanship only grows from there. If you’re feeling down, he makes it his life’s purpose to bring your smile back even if it means making a fool of himself (especially if it means making a fool of himself).

Zen

If its planned quality time Zen just wants to spend time with you. He likes being near you even if you’re doing nothing. When he does his strength training you do yoga, when he practices lines in the living room your sitting on the floor laptop in hand. He likes to be near you so he plans date’s where you can simply be together. Stargazing, motorcycle rides, even trips to museums if that’s what your into (though you might have to help him understand why that stuff is important). he likes catching glimpses of you while acting, hearing your voice while he’s chatting with a fan, recognizing your perfume as you rush past him for an onset project. It’s partly why he wanted you as his manager, the other part was that you where damn good at it. You could juggle the RFA party and his shooting schedule and the upcoming auditions like you were born for it. Honestly he was just so thrilled to be with you whenever possible.

If its unplanned praise let’s face it this boy is dramatic as all get out. So when he gets overwhelmed he can’t help but revert to those cheesy lines from his plays. He’ll shower you in praise and love and you’re always a little worried that one day he’ll just start spouting Shakespeare. he calls you princess and angel while fawning over you because he just can’t help it he loves you and if he can’t spirit you away to a nice private place when he can unleash the beast, then he’ll simply have to verbally drown you in praise and love.

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lilallama · 4 years ago

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(Sorry if I spell something wrongly lol) Idk, This is my opinion? Gryffindor, Jungkook. Hufflepuff, Taehyung & Yoongi. Ravenclaw, Namjoon & Jin. Slytherin, Jimin & Hobi??? I literally just searched the meaning of each house and just picked one based on the personality shown. Also, If you don't think this matches them, Sorry ;-;

[Don't worry, sweetie ^^. You don't have to apologise! 💕🍑]

Hoseok is a lot more two faced than I actually tend to show. The way he presents himself is mostly a mask. While he seems mostly calm on the outside, he's actually quite the opposite on the inside. Out of all the boys it'd be easiest for him to manipulate/influence Y/n (@bangtans-apollo Tae is quacking-) and he's aware of that. That's one of the reasons why they started the club 1. To protect Y/n, 2. The club concept came because it'd be easier to meet up and they would automatically get a clubroom and 3. Hoseok threatened to tell on them if they don't join, he'd make Y/n despise each one of them.

He is a strong leader (one of the Slytherin traits), I try to make him resourceful (but I am not myself so that might not shine through too much), he is definitely cunning. The whole ordeal with wanting to be with Y/n no matter what is pretty ambitious, I'd say. And lastly the traditionalism trait, he is very into tradition and has to keep his domestic fantasies with Y/n a secret. His parents raised him very traditional, he would hate it if (female) Y/n would ask him out first or would propose first and would at first frown upon his attention to (male or non binary) Y/n.

All in all Slytherin seems very accurate.

Now concerning Jimin; similar to Hoseok he too can be a two faced snake. He doesn't hide his true thoughts from Y/n or the boys, if anything he overshares sometimes (one time he started talking to Taehyung about some... rather inappropriate things concerning Y/n. That got his Y/n privilege taken away for a whole month). And despite practically pleading to be the "dumb bimbo" stereotype, he is surprisingly clever and intelligent. Before Highschool, before he made his first experiences with popular boys, he was a straight A's and B's student. Yet once he had his first boyfriend, he discovered that the people surrounding him typically preferred the dumb blondes. (He actually broke up with the captain of the football team for Y/n.)

He also sometimes displays ambitious, just in a whiney sort of way. Self preservation is definitely something. Unlike Taehyung, Yoongi, Namjoon or Jeongguk, he wouldn't let himself be killed for Y/n's sake. If Y/n were to be killed he would end up deluding himself into thinking a person who looks similar to them is them and would force Y/n's personality and style on them. Cunningness is 100% accurate. He's fake. He pretends to be a silly sweetheart who loves everyone but will spread rumours about you, blame things on you etc. and everyone believes him. His cunningness concerning Y/n is more whiney than anything.

So I do think Jimin fits Slytherin.

Namjoon was raised by strict parents who forbade him a tremendous amount of things and painted his world for him. It was engraved in his head, he was going to be the CEO of their company one day. Yet despite everything he still had a head of his own. Maye it was because if his high IQ that he understood that his parents weren't the only opinion in his life. Don't get me wrong, they still left him scarred (sadly literally, as his father once hit him bloody) and traumatised but not without a mind of his own. Ever since he was small creativity and originality was something he admired and loved. It was partly reason of why he fell for Y/n, their individuality, their mind, their heart, their soul.

We will not need to discuss intelligence, it's a trait he undoubtedly has. He is always willing to learn and showed interest in many different things before Y/n captured his focus. He is most likely one of the wisest members as he is aware of how twisted his love for them truly is (once again something I tend to fail at portraying) and tried to stop it when it started. But somehow that only made everything worse and by now he doesn't care anymore at all. When he was a child he used to be more openly curious than nowadays (as it caused him many punishments from his parents).

I feel that Namjoon would fit Ravenclaw.

Seokjin was spoiled all his life. His parents adored him, other kids adored him, everyone adored him. While he might've acted oblivious he knew that it's because of his money. Similar to Jimin, Seokjin changed when he entered high school. While he always was a pretty intelligent and well behaved student (still very arrogant though) he then became less concerned with studies and once made a teacher cry (that was before he met Y/n). He loves standing out as an individual, that includes making anyone change who crosses his path with the same outfit (not in school as they wear a school uniform. But outside, yes, he has that much power. Everyone knows Kim Seokjin).

As said before, Seokjin is far from stupid. He is a very intelligent individual but doesn't show the extent of his nolage. Instead aiming for a cool "Queen B" persona. He is witty with his comebacks (something I cannot write because I do not possess that superpower), he's quick with his words. He holds respect for people who are 60+ years old as he believes they've been through a lot in life already. These people have wisdom he could only gain by experience and that he respects (there is one very sweet lady that lives alone in a very big mansion a few streets away from his penthouse. He always visits her because he loves her genuine kindness. When he met Y/n she recently passed away and he saw a part of her in them).

Seokjin could qualify for a Ravenclaw.

Taehyung was raised by a very Christian family that he still cherishes very much. Because of their intense belief he was raised to worship. He never fell in love, so when Y/n crossed paths with his, he started showing love how he's used to it (Out of all the boys Taehyung is straight up insane. Something in his brain might be wired wrong, there is no explanation on why he likes them, on why he believed that's what love is because his parents treated him with normal, familiar love. So he is simply sick, there is no "saving" him. He's better of in a mental hospital). But he was always a very kind boy. Giving instead of taking, never wanting anything in return. Out of everyone, Taehyung was the one who welcomed new students and made tons of friends. But he grew out of it as his focus turned to art. He aimed to make his parents proud so he didn't have time for friends.

His loyalty is unlike any other. You could torture him half dead and he'd still forgive you, stay loyal to you, serve you. He is Y/n's servant. He works hard on improving his artistic abilities and also to maintain fairly good grades. For Y/n any labour he'd have to be put through would seem like a blessing. Another trait for Hufflepuff would be fairness and he surely is fair. As one of the least jealous members of the club he really only cares if Y/n's okay with what's happening or could get hurt (he always kets the other members have more privileges than he has because he believes it'd be not only greedy but prideful to want Y/n to hinself. He avoids any sin when it comes to Y/n, envy, wrath, pride, sloth, nothing will ever come near his modern day Jesus).

Taehyung definitely is a Hufflepuff.

If the boy who works two parttime jobs, to pay for rent, bills and food, cleans the shabby apartment by himself because his alcoholic mother is busy messing it up again, yet still treats his mother with kindness, only to be treated like trash by seven more powerful and successful guys in his school who all like the same person he does and still manages to maintain the position as intern and honour roll student at a prestigious school for roch people, isn't in Hufflepuff then I don't know what. This poor soul is incredibly sensitive and kind. He isn't judgemental (as he himself is used to people judging him). All round very sweet.

I think it's very clear that he's very diligent and hard working. He holds great passion for music and enjoys writing poetry, a very sensitive soul. Yoongi isn't someone to complain about something being unfair (cough cough Jimin cough cough) or try and steal Y/n away from them. His day dreams consist of imagining Y/n liking him back, but he is certain that would never happen (according to you guys, it seems a lot of you would pick Yoongi if you'd get to decide). Not only is Yoongi kind but loyal as well, he'd never imagine leaving anyone behind even his useless mother.

Yoongi is 1000% a Hufflepuff.

Jeongguk tends to be hot tempered, he goes from zero to a hundred in a matter of seconds. Everything in life seems like a challenge to prove he's better than others think (his father was a notorious serial killer who killed twenty one people yet got away with a ten year prison sentence and got released after six, ten months later Jeongguk was born). In truth he did not care for anyone else, only Y/n. So all tge chivalry he could muster was directed at them.

He is one brave guy who doesn't get easily scared (I guess living with as well as being a serial killer at sixteen years old desensitised him). Jeongguk is courageous just not in/for a positive way/purpose. He deluted himself into thinking that Y/n needs protection, HIS protection. He once attacked a teacher because they were helping Y/n with a question, that's very daring (more like stupid) just not in a good way. A (still not) more positive example of his daringness is when he wants to impress Y/n. He hung from a skyscraper for five minutes doing pullups, just to inpress them. One time he also jumped across his luxurious pool at home (and almost slipped, almost bashing his head in) just to prove that he can jump further than someone they talked about.

I could very much picture him as a Griffendor.

If you enjoyed reading my work, please consider reblogging it. Thank you for reading

#yandere bts #cooking club #hogwarts au #yandere jimin #yandere taehyung #yandere jungkook #yandere namjoon #yandere hoseok #yandere seokjin #yandere yoongi #harry potter au

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anotherhamiltonblog · 4 years ago

Text

Unwritten Destiny pt 1

Unwritten Destiny part 1 a Daveed Diggs x OFC fic (partly Rafael Casal x OFC)

Rose Soo faceclaim is Christian Serratos(Rosita from TWD)

Warnings: Flirtation? Cursing? Embarrassment. Some fluff? Pregnancy. Some social media in there. Talk of Cheating... that’s it i think. ALSO ITS NOT PROOF READ.

Word Count: 2.5k(maybe a little more. i forgot now)

Forever Tag: @i-know-i-can

Enjoy.

The first time Rose ever spoke with Daveed, it was back in 2015, she was trying to call her cousin. Yet a male answered the call. Not that Rose even noticed, she went straight into a rant about her delayed flight. Her asshole boyfriend who refused to travel with her and how she was starving.

Of course, after finding out that it was a man named Daveed listening to her rant. Rose listened to him explain that Pip had left her phone at his place after their cast dinner. It was past midnight and Rose was waiting for late flight from L.A to NYC to spend time to her cousin.

The two happily chatted, going on random things. Like the Hamilton show and how much Daveed was really enjoying his part in it. Daveed kindly talked to her until she had to board her plane.

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The second time was when her cousin Phillipa was dragging Rose to a after party after the show. Rose had been fighting with her boyfriend over the phone a few minutes before they had arrived. To say her mood had turned sour was an understatement. She was on break from filming The Walking Dead and just wanted to spend time with her cousin. He didn’t want to join her, his loss. So, as she stood around, a cup in her hand, Rose couldn’t help but roll her eyes and judge the party. Not that meant to do so, she was just in a foul mood.

“Hey! Pip’s cousin!” a voice called out, Rose looking over and raised an eyebrow. “Daveed… we once talked for over an hour on the phone?”

At that she laughed and held out a hand. “Ah, a face to the voice… I’m Rose, or Rosie.” She introduced herself.

“Well it’s nice to finally meet you.” He winked and looked around. “Enjoying the party?”

At the question, Rose pulled a face. “I mean, it’s ok. Feels a little… high school scene.” She admitted. “The red solo cups, tacky music…” she shrugged and looked around. “At least everyone’s having a good time!” She added with a laugh.

“DIGGS!” A voice yelled out from Daveed’s other side. “Dude… where is the food? Also… I might have broken a vase. BUT I cleaned up the mess!”

Rose’s face paled and her jaw dropped. “Wait… it’s your party?” she asked turning to the two men. Cursing under her breath when Daveed nodded, Rose tipped back the drink in her cup before excusing herself.

She could not believe she just bad mouthed the party to the fucking host. God this was not her night.

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By the third time they were talking, after countless teasing from Daveed at the ‘boring’ dinner and ‘horrible’ music the restaurant was playing. Rose ignored him, while the rest of the Hamilton cast were laughing and having a jolly good time.

“Yo, where you going?” Rafael asked when Rose stood up.

She just gave him a pointed look and held up her phone, showing a call was coming through. Turning, making sure she had her ringing phone, Rose walked away from the table.

Standing outside of the restaurant, talking to her boyfriend, more arguing then having a conversation. Rose talked, expressing herself and moving her hand around as they fought.

“Trouble in paradise…” Daveed commented, everyone really trying to ignore the girl outside, not that it was easy. They were seating next to the windows, which gave them perfect view of Rose.

“Not that it’s anyone’s concern… her boyfriend is an asshole who didn’t want her to come visit.” Phillipa glanced at everyone and went back to talk with Jasmine.

When the girl came back to the table, her eyed, red and slightly puffy from crying. She picked up her purse and put down money. “I gotta go… I’m sorry.”

With that, she didn’t wait for anyone to stop her. She turned and rushed out.

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Being busy with the show, comic con and interviews. Rose was finally getting time off. The year was 2016 when the two ran into each other. The two being in Miami, while one was on a break, the other was simply just on her day off from Comic Con and photoshoots.

Walking the beach, wearing a one-piece black bathing suit that showed off all of her back. Rose was enjoying her time away from her cast mates. She loved everyone she worked with, yet these little moments when she could just breath and he herself. It was what she preferred.

“Rose?” a strange, yet very familiar voice called out. Causing the dark-haired girl to turn and be shocked to see Daveed standing there.

Shirtless.

In just swim trunks.

Damn

“Hey! What brings you here to Miami?” she asked, a small smile on her face.

“My group is doing some shows here…” he chuckled. “I’m just enjoying the sun and almost deserted beach.”

Nodding, Rose looked around before facing the ocean. “It is nice when almost no one is around, huh?”

“What are you doing here?”

Turning back to face the man, Rose chuckled. “Uh, work… This is my day off. Tomorrow I’m back at comic con and interviews about the new upcoming season.” She sighed, rubbing the back of her neck.

“Oh true… I’ve been watching that. The ending of season six… that was fucked up.” Daveed grinned and raised an eyebrow, nudging Rose softly. “Come on… give up some spoilers?”

Laughing and nudging him back, Rose shook her head. “No can do.” She laughed, the two giving the other a small smile.

Spending the rest of the day together, Rose snapping photos for Daveed to post. Only for him to do the same for her, he snapped various photos, some without her knowing.

Rose had a good day; she had planned on spending it alone. To clear her head from her idiot ex, yet by nightfall, as she got back to her hotel room, after having dinner with Daveed. Rose realized she didn’t think about Mark once the whole time she was out.

Grabbing her phone, she found Daveed’s number and clicked on it to send a message.

Rosie: ‘Thanks for today. I hope you have a great show. I’ll have to try and make it to one of your shows before leaving!’ D. Diggs: ‘Tell me which night your free and I’ll arrange it for you!’ Rosie: ‘Will you also arrange the menu, the venue, the seating?’

Giggling at her little Thomas Jefferson jab, she started to take off her makeup waiting for a reply. When her phone dinged. She picked it up and giggled.

D. Diggs: ‘You think you cute or something?’ Rosie: ‘Oh, I think I’m adorable! 😉’

When she didn’t hear back from him, she went and got ready for bed after posting a photo pn twitter.

Her phone going off hours later with a new text, yet Rose was already fast asleep.

She was sad when the opportunity to go see Daveed with his group never came. Though she tried to get a night off. She wasn’t able too. Something Daveed luckily understood. Not that either party were particularly happy with it.

Rosie: ‘Sorry I couldn’t make it to your show… ☹’ D. Diggs: ‘I understand. You’re a busy gal.’

Getting on the plane with her castmates, Rose sighed and fixed herself on the seat and fell asleep.

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2017. A year in which Rose didn’t see anyone other than her castmates and boyfriend. Going as far as changing her number to stop all the fighting she was having with Mark. He hated that she was texting Daveed. So, she did everything to not talk to him anymore. No matter how much she missed the man.

By the end of 2017, things were going so horrible that Rose couldn’t take it anymore. She was in the middle of packing her bags while Phillipa was waiting in the living room for her.

“I can’t believe you would do this!” she yelled at Mark, fed up with all the lying and cheating. “After everything I did for you. Fuck. You!” she snapped, pulling on her coat and grabbing the four bags she had packed.

“I’ll be sending someone to get the rest of my stuff. You touch one thing that’s mine. I won’t hesitate in going to the cops and charging you with the abuse you put me through.” She hissed, raising an eyebrow at Marks scoff.

“No one will believe a bitch like you.”

Grinning, she nodded slowly. “I have proof. Pictures, videos and voice recordings.” She said calmly, “So don’t fucking test me.”

With that said, she turned and stormed out of the room and went downstairs. Her cousin helped her with grabbing two bags, and they left the house.

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Being at the Premiere of Blindspotting, Rose was excited. When Rafael messaged her on Twitter and asked her to be his ‘date’ seeing as he had recently broken up with his girlfriend and didn’t want to go alone. Deciding to go for it, Rose was more than happy to dress up and be one of the first people to see the movie.

At the Premiere, she was on Rafael’s arm, the two talking and having a good time. When they bumped into Daveed, Rose still smiled. Despite the little green monster on her shoulder when she saw him with the gorgeous Emmy Raver-Lampman. The four talked, she allowed them to take pictures with the cast of the movie, even getting pulled into some photos thanks to Rafael.

By the end of the night, both Jasmine and Rose were ready for the after party.

At the party, the girls were dancing, drinking and laughing together. Jasmine telling Rose about how Daveed and Emmy met back during the Hamilton days and they started dating a few days back.

Rose told Jasmine about her ex, the cheating and beatings. The end and how Phillipa went to help her leave. Then the random message Rafael sent to invite her and how the two hit it off. Just as friends,

Not that the night ended like that, after lots of alcohol and light touches, Rose and Rafael ended up sharing a hotel room and bed that night.

The next morning, neither really minded what happened, deciding to keep it up simply for pleasure. Seeing as neither one of them were in a relationship.

There were times, Rose would go visit man, go on tour with him and Daveed, whenever she wasn’t filming. He would come to Georgia to visit her as well. The two hitting it off pretty well. When they decided to end things, around the time Daveed and his girlfriend Emmy split. Magazines always making things up about the two friends, everyone wanting to know if they were dating, or what was going on.

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Rose found herself living in New York. 2019 was starting to look a lot better than she expected, only problem… Rose was pregnant, and Rafael was now dating some pretty model. He knew, of course he knew. So did his girlfriend. They all decided that Rose would keep the baby and split visitations.

The situation was a weird one, not that Rose cared, she was happy, Rafa was happy. Everyone was happy.

On an afternoon walk, she was surprised when she bumped into Rafael, who was waiting for Daveed. Jokingly posting a photo of Rafael on her Instagram, tagging Daveed. The two waited around for the other male. Just walking around and laughing. Rafael buying her a New York pretzel as they waited.

By the time Daveed joined them, the guys kept making her stop to take pictures of them every now and again. Rose rolling her eyes and smile each time.

“Come on… Phillipa is waiting for us to have a late lunch!” Rose linked her arm with the two males, and they headed to the cute deli.

Sitting down, Rose asked for an iced tea and a smoked ham deli sandwich with a side of tator tots. Everyone at the table being quiet and just sitting around after the orders were placed.

“So… we gonna talk about the elephant in the room?” Daveed asked, glancing around his friends at the table.

“I think I’m gonna call him Dumbo, Jim and Henry…” Rose said, looking behind Daveed, who turned and saw mini statues of elephants on a shelf.

Thankfully that broke the ice and they fell into comfortable talk, mostly about work. When the food came, Rose scrunched up her face when the smell of smoked ham hit her. Covering her mouth, she excused herself and rushed off to the bathroom.

Rafael on her heels, along with Phillipa who went into the bathroom with her.

Daveed’s POV:

Watching Rafael come back, Daveed raised an eyebrow. “She ok?” He asked, obviously worried.

“Hmm?” Rafa raised an eyebrow and lifted his head once he sat down. “Oh… shit man. I didn’t even.” But he trailed off. “Remember how we were kind of seeing each other and broke off a month back cause I met Adrienne?” he looked up at his best friend and slouched back in his seat. “She’s pregnant. I mean, we don’t want to terminate the pregnancy. Adrienne is ok with it, understands that Rose and I were never in love… simply physical between us.”

Daveed rubbed his forehead. “Well… there goes my chance with her.” He mumbled and

Rafael furrowed his eyebrows and leaned forward. “What do you mean?” he asked his best friend. “You’ve been with Emmy… That’s why I asked her out man.” He kept his voice down so those around wouldn’t hear.

“Yeah, I know. Why do you think we didn’t work out. She’s a great girl. Talented… but she’s not Rose. I was waiting for y’all to end so I could ask her out.”

“Well, you still can… I mean, if you don’t mind her being pregnant or anything. Won’t be like it’s some strangers kid or anything.” Rafa suggested with a smirk. “She’s a great gal ya know.”

Daveed just sighed and shut up when the girls returned.

“Hey, I asked them to switch your sandwich. Hopefully Roast Beef will be better for you.” Daveed grinned at Rose, noticing the slight blush on her cheeks.

“Aw, thanks Diggs.” She smiled and kissed his cheek before sitting back down. “Don’t worry… I washed my mouth with mouth wash I carry around.” She added making Daveed chuckle.

After everyone ate, Phillipa went to the theater her show was at, Rafa left to head back to the apartment he was sharing with his girlfriend while they are in New York,

Daveed looked at Rose and smiled. “Want to go grab some ice cream?” he asked and offered his arm to the girl, she grinned and nodded, agreeing to go with him.

The rest of the day went nicely, with both Rose and Daveed walking around New York, acting as if they were tourists visiting the city for the first time.

AN: That’s the first chapter. It’s long. the fic itself will only be around 5-6 parts.

Hope you all enjoyed this!

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ladycatofwinterfell · 4 years ago

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The art of reuniting with your love(s)

Summary: Cat gets pregnant after her meeting with Ned in the brothel. Later Robb manages to take King’s Landing and rescues his father and sisters. They all reunite and it has a happy ending.

This can be seen as an unofficial second chapter to “The art of leaving your love”, even though some things are different from it. (”The art of leaving your love is another fic I’ve written, it’s on my blog or on ao3 where I’m CatelynStark956, if you want to read it)

This one’s for you @yerevasunclair I hope you like it <33

The bells were heard first. Then the distant sounds of battle echoed out over the lands. Catelyn hated it. She hated not knowing, she hated that she couldn’t even see what was going on. She had managed to convince Robb to bring her when he marched against King’s Landing to join Stannis’s troops. He had wanted her to go to Riverrun and wait there, but she was done with being locked up while her loved ones were in danger. And it really didn’t matter where she was. If she was in Riverrun and they lost she would be captured. If she was closer to the battle and they lost she would be captured. But if she was closer and they won she could see Ned and the girls quicker than if she was at Riverrun. And she could show them her baby belly. She had jokingly called the child “her brothel baby”, Robb absolutely hated it. But she found it funny. And it wasn’t long until the little brothel baby would enter the world, she wasn’t exactly sure, but she guessed it was just another two weeks or something like it.

Catelyn restlessly walked around the camp with some thirty men following her. Robb had left them behind to defend her if something went wrong. She had found it very unnecessary to have so many when she was the only one they were defending. It would have been different if they had been set to defend the whole camp, and all the people, well, mostly women, who had been left behind while the men rode into battle.

Just as she walked past a group of women who had made themselves busy with skinning a deer a loud boom shook the ground. A child could be heard crying somewhere and all the dogs started barking at the same time. Catelyn didn’t even want to imagine what could have happened to make such a deafening sound.

“Smoke” someone said and pointed towards the sky.

And when she looked up she saw that he was right. Black smoke rose towards a suddenly partly green sky, but they were too far away from the city to see where the smoke had it’s source. But as the saying went, there’s no smoke without fire, and something turned in Catelyn when she watched the cloud of smoke get larger and larger. Green fire meant wildfire. Wildfire was bad, wildfire was dangerous, wildfire meant death.

“That’s not good” she said, frowning.

“We can’t know that, my lady. Not until it’s over. You shouldn’t worry.”

They seemed optimistic. That was not something that could be said of Catelyn. They could have been tens of thousands of men against one and she still would have been worried. The lives of her family was on the line. Her son, and her daughters, and her husband. Even her own life, and the baby’s. She missed Ned, Sansa and Arya so much that it ached in her. She just wanted them back with her, she wanted them to be safe again. But that wouldn’t happen if they lost. Heads would be flying if they lost.

“Do you have any family?” she asked.

“I have a wife and two small daughters back at home, my lady” he said and smiled.

It was a proud smile. She didn’t understand how he could be smiling. Maybe it was because neither his children nor his spouse was in danger because of the battle that raged not very far away from them.

“Now imagine your wife and the youngest daughter is trapped by the enemy, and the older daughter has to lead an army and fight for their freedom. You can’t do a thing, you just have to stand around being useless and wait. If the older one loses, you’ll all die. Tell me, wouldn’t you be worried?”

He was quiet after that. She felt a bit mean, but she quickly forgot about it when another boom could be heard. It almost sounded as if though the city was collapsing, and it probably would if wildfire continued to be set off. She wanted to be able to see what was happening, but all she saw was more smoke.

It continued like that for hours. She paced back and forth in the camp until her legs ached from it and it felt like her body was about to shut down. No more booms were heard, but the sounds from the battlefield continued. Though after a few hours it got quieter and quieter until it was completely silent, even the bells stopped ringing. The silence was almost worse than the sound of battle. Because the battle seemed to be over. But she had no idea of who had won.

The camp got quiet too, she could almost touch the tension that hung in the air. Not even the dogs made a sound. She quietly walked towards the end of the camp that was closest to King’s Landing, hoped that maybe she could see something that would tell her if they had won or lost, if she would live or if she would die. But she was disappointed. Nothing. All she saw was the open fields and the ominous black smoke that never seemed to fade away. But she stood there, and she waited. She must have stood there for an hour. Her heart was beating hard and fast in her chest, and she couldn’t seem to stop fidgeting.

“Look!” someone said and pointed.

A rider came galloping towards them. She couldn’t see if he was Stark or Lannister or Baratheon, but she stayed right where she was until it became apparent exactly who it was.

“It’s my uncle!” she exclaimed.

If the Blackfish could come back then surely he would bring good news. Though she dared not hope until she heard words come from his lips.

“We won, Little Cat!” he shouted when he came close enough.

A stone was lifted from her chest and suddenly her eyes were filling with tears of relief. They had won. They were safe.

“And Robb? Is he alright?” she asked him the moment he had climbed of his horse.

Her uncle took her face in his hands and looked at her with that smile that she loved so well.

“Your son is alright, Cat. And your daughters too. We found Arya out in the streets, Sansa was in the Red Keep. They were both beyond happy to

Sansa and Arya were alright. They were alive. They would be back with her.

“And Ned? What about my husband, is he well?”

“He’s... he isn’t well. But he’s alive, and he will get better quickly now that he’s out of the black cells.”

“Take me to them” she said. “Now!”

“I can’t, Little Cat” he sighed. “The capital is still a dangerous place, you shouldn’t be there.”

“Then I want them brought here, immediately. Husband, and daughters, and son. I don’t want them to be in danger longer than absolutely necessary. Stannis is king, he will deal with this from now on.”

Uncle Brynden dried the tears from her cheeks and kissed her forehead.

“I will take them to you as quickly as I can” he promised.

“Thank you, Uncle. But before you have to leave, I have to ask, was it truly wildfire?”

His face turned grim for a second.

“They blew up part of Stannis’s fleet. Many drowned in the river because of it. But we won anyway, and I would rather not speak of it.”

~*~

“Mother!” Arya shouted and almost fell of her horse in her haste.

But Catelyn was there to catch her. She pulled Arya into a hug, showered her in kisses. It really was Arya, it was her daughter. She was safe.

“I’m sorry I’m so dirty” Arya mumbled into Catelyn’s side.

She had not even noticed that Arya was dirty. Nothing could have mattered less in that moment. That wasn’t important, what was important was that she was safe and healthy.

“That doesn’t matter, sweetling. You’re safe now, you’re here with me. And I don’t care if you’re dirty.”

But where was the other daughter? She seemed to recall that she had two. She looked up and saw Sansa standing by her horse, looking on with worried eyes.

“Come here, my sweetling” she said with a smile and held out a hand towards her daughter.

Sansa practically ran into her then, almost knocking over all three of them. Catelyn kissed the top of her head and held both of them close to her.

“Aren’t you angry with me?” Sansa whispered, her voice trembling.

“Why on earth would I be angry with you, child? None of this is your fault.”

“But I went to Cersei and I told her that Father planned to ship me and Arya to White Harbor. We would have been able to leave if I hadn’t told her, this is all my fault, Mother! It’s my fault they killed everyone and threw Father into a cell and it’s my fault you had to fight to free us!”

Sansa was crying by then, hysterically searching for words.

“Hush now, Sansa” she hushed. “Look at me.”

Sansa looked up at her.

“This isn’t your fault. Don’t ever think any of this was your fault. It is on me, and your father. We have let you down and we put you in a dangerous position. Us grown women and men are to be blamed for this, you have done nothing wrong, I promise you.”

She realized that she was crying too.

“Do you hear me?” she asked.

Sansa nodded and then she buried her face in Catelyn’s shoulder once more. And despite all the crying it was all like it was supposed to be. She had her daughters in her arms. And that was all that mattered.

“Your husband and your son is on their way. But Lord Eddard has a badly injured leg, he can’t ride, he had to be put on a wagon. Robb is with him.”

“I bet he hated that” she chuckled.

If she knew Ned correctly he didn’t like being pretty much helpless.

“Ah, he wasn’t too happy with it” Uncle Brynden grinned.

“Mother, I’m hungry” Arya mumbled.

“Me too” Sansa sniffled.

“Okay, go with your uncle and I’ll be with you in a moment. I promise.”

“Why are you not coming?” Arya asked.

“I’ll wait for Robb, and Father. And then we’ll join you and we’ll all eat together” she said.

She reluctantly let go of them and they trotted after the Blackfish towards her tent. They both looked back at her with smiles on their faces. Seeing them smiling filled Catelyn with a warmth that she had not felt in a long time.

It actually didn’t take very long before she saw them coming over the field. For a moment she considered running out and meeting them, but running while very pregnant wasn’t something she liked. So she had to stand there patiently for what felt like many painful hours.

Ned’s head hung low. He was probably exhausted, the poor thing. But at least he was alive.

“Mother!” Robb called out. “You waited for us!”

“Of course I did!”

Ned looked up when he heard her voice, something in his face seemed to change when he saw her. And she couldn’t stop smiling. The way he looked at her with his soft grey eyes wide in surprise, she loved that.

She almost bounced over to the wagon to help him off it.

“My dearest husband” she greeted him and her smile grew even wider.

“Cat” he almost whispered, as if though he couldn’t believe she was really there.

“I’m right here, my love” she said and reached up to take his hand.

He managed to get off the wagon and before she knew it he had wrapped her in his arms.´

“Tell me I’m not dreaming” he mumbled. “Tell me it’s true.”

“It is true” she said. “I’m real. And so is this baby. Our baby.”

One of his hands traveled down to her belly.

“It can’t be long until it’s born now, can it?”

“I haven’t counted properly, but it shouldn’t be more than a week or two.”

He leaned down and kissed her.

“I’m sorry I haven’t been with you” he then said.

“Don’t be, you’re here now. We are together now. And I’ll never leave you again.”

~*~

“Mother, where did that baby come from?” Arya suddenly asked through a mouthful of bread and broth.

Sansa shrieked in horror and Ned had suddenly donned a very uncomfortable look. Robb snorted and hid a smile behind his hand. Catelyn just smiled, she had missed Arya’s sometimes a bit nosey and intrusive questions. And she was a bit surprised by that that was what the girl had been pondering over.

“Arya, we have spoken of this” she said calmly. “You know where babies come from.”

“But how did Father put the baby in you if you weren’t together?” Arya continued.

She did seem genuinely confused.

“What if Mother’s a witch?” Robb said and ruffled his little sister’s hair. “And can make babies on her own?”

That was a much better response than telling her about the brothel.

Arya swatted his hand away and looked at him angrily.

“Mother is no witch, stupid! Witches are ugly and scary and they live in the woods! And besides, I’ve never seen her do magic.”

“What if it’s a secret and she can’t use magic in front of us?”

“Then it was very stupid to make a baby, because we figured it out” Arya said solemnly. “But it isn’t magic, because she’s no witch.”

A year earlier Catelyn would have chastised Robb for teasing his little sister, but she could only watch fondly. The fact that they could bicker made her happy. They were back together again. Robb acted like the child he was, and not a seasoned veteran of a thousand battles. Arya was just as stubborn and outspoken as when she had left Winterfell. And Sansa... Catelyn looked at her oldest daughter. She was quiet, looked down at her plate with steady eyes.

“What is on your mind, sweetling?” Catelyn asked her, ignoring Arya and Robb’s continued conversation.

Sansa seemed unsure for a moment. Carleton took her hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze. Then her daughter leaned towards her and whispered.

“The baby is Father’s, right?”

So the baby had occupied Sansa’s thoughts as well as Arya’s.

“Yes, it is” Catelyn told her and kissed the top of her head. “I came to King’s Landing the day you arrived there. I needed to speak with your father, so Littlefinger took him to me.”

That satisfied Sansa for a moment, but then she frowned again. There was something almost accusing in her eyes.

“Why didn’t you see me and Arya too?”

“Because no one could knew I was there. It was a secret. I wished I could have seen you, but it was too dangerous. I’m sorry, Sansa.”

“It’s fine. We are together now and that’s what matters.”

Sansa smiled then, and Catelyn did too. Arya and Robb had gotten absolutely nowhere in the speculations about whether she was a witch or not. Ned had joined them too, advocating for that she was actually a witch. But Arya was stubbornly set on that her mother couldn’t be a witch. No one had came up with the idea to just ask her.

She caught Ned’s eyes for a moment. He winked at her and that made her laugh. She had missed him so much. So so so much.

They sat around the table and discussed and laughed until Arya began to yawn. She denied that she was tired, but it didn’t take long before she was almost falling asleep in her chair. By then Sansa’s eyelids was also beginning to look heavy.

“Arya, Sansa, come on. It’s time for bed” Catelyn said and stood up.

“I’m not tired!”

“Me neither.”

“Okay, but I’m very tired, and I think your father is quite tired too. I think it’s better if we all go to bed, and we’ll talk more on the morrow.”

“Can’t we stay up for a little longer?” Sansa asked. “Please.”

“We have many long days of travel ahead of us, we should get some sleep” Ned said and stood too.

They were going back to Winterfell, they were returning home. Leaving all the horrors of the south behind them. She couldn’t wait until they would be back behind Winterfell’s high walls, she missed everything about it. Even the summer snows.

The girls groaned loudly but actually left their chairs. Robb took one of them on each arm and they walked out of the tent. Catelyn stood too, and walked over to Ned to give him an arm so that he could lean on her when he walked.

“I missed you” he whispered.

“I missed you too.”

She put a hand to on cheek. His beard had grown shaggy and there was more than just a bit of gray in it. His face was thinner, his hair was longer and also a lot grayer. He looked older than when they had met in that brothel. But it was still her Ned, it was the husband she loved with all her heart. Despite his changed appearance.

“I look terrible, don’t I?” he chuckled.

“You look like you need a couple of hot meals, and a scissor, and a good night’s sleep with your arms around your wife” she told him. “But I wouldn’t say you look terrible.”

He smiled and leaned down and kissed her. She welcomed that, pulled him as close as she could with her belly in the way. She had missed his warmth and his love, missed the way he kissed her deeply and lovingly.

“Are you two coming?”

She broke away from Ned and saw that Robb had poked his head inside.

“Yes, we are coming.”

“I’ve been wondering how the hell you managed to get pregnant when you had no time at all, but now I am beginning to understand” Robb said with an eye-roll when they followed him out into the dark night.

They had five children, if they wanted any closeness at all they were forced to take what little time they had. “Quick and quiet” had became a bit of a motto. That hour in the brothel had been a luxury. But it had also cost the part. In the moment the price had seemed reasonable, but afterwards she had realized that Petyr had probably given them a higher price than what he usually took. But it had been worth it, purely to see Petyr’s face when they made reality of his jape about a bedchamber.

“We payed good money for that time” she muttered.

That made Robb laugh so that he could barely breathe.

“You payed for it?” he howled. “Whoremongers!”

Catelyn accidentally got eye contact with a passerby who looked at her like horns had suddenly sprouted from her head.

“Robb, please lower your voice” she hissed.

“I don’t think you can call it that since no whores were involved’” was what Ned said. “And for the record, it was worth every coin.”

It really had been worth every little coin. It would have been worth it, baby or not, but she had longed for another baby for so long. And soon she would get to hold it in her arms. Another little son or daughter.

She laid a hand on her belly.

“And we got the brothel baby out of it!”

“Don’t call it that!”

“Then what do you suggest I call your new sibling? You can’t deny it, he or she is a brothel baby. Paid for and everything.”

“Please stop talking!”

She would definitely continue to call the baby that. Simply to annoy Robb.

~*~

#catelyn stark #ned stark #robb stark #sansa stark #arya stark #brynden tully #ned x cat #eddard x catelyn #got fanfic #asoiaf fanfiction

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mythriteshah · 4 years ago

Text

The Sultan’s Dream

“Nyra… Glacius… It has been a journey of ten-thousand malms since we stepped foot upon Eorzea. I was but a simple lordling that wanted to make a name for himself, with nothing but my two greatest companions – my best friends – by my side. You two were always there. Through my triumphs and my failures, you were all I had to depend on.

Yes, I have my Angels to watch over and safeguard myself and the Regalia, but even they are not always around – unlike you two. ‘Tis not often I am given an opportunity to simply enjoy the scenery and share my thoughts; there are few whom I trust enough to divulge my deepest secrets. And to tell you the greatest truth of all, Nyra & Glacius… I’m tired. My time spent in Eorzea was one filled with so much turmoil that I would not even wish such a life on my worst enemies. And although I’ve brought the Regalia to a shining age of prosperity, I had still suffered a great deal since I first became an adventurer.

All this conflict is for the cloudkin. I’ve already cavorted with enough primals to live three full lives. And the repeated incursions of the Garlean Empire are evolving into quite the proverbial broken record. There are numerous other adventurers and ‘heroes’ strewn about the realm to make an army; what’s one merchant-lord in the grand scheme of things?

We’ve played our part on this grand stage of imbeciles, Glacius. Nyra. But now it is time for the curtains to descend. I am done fighting and tempting fate – I’ll grow old doing this for so long. ‘Tis time we returned back home to where we belong.”

Thiji reflected back on his speech he gave to his two most trusted companions some summers ago. While he has gained and lost much throughout his time as an adventurer, he was tolerant of the outcomes and made peace with them. Of course, there are certain moments in time he wish would have changed for the better.

His confrontation with the Harriers and their leader in the heart of Snowcloak, though successful in its objective, costed Thiji the life of the only Angel who ever loved him – Mamai Mai, who was given the title of “Lady” posthumously. She insisted on accompanying the then Mythrite Prince and his comrades-in-arms in his assault, offering her pugilistic skills to the table. Unfortunately, she was waylaid unexpectantly by what may as well have been a sub-zero blast of cold by the Lady of Frost. Thiji may have withstood the brunt of it, but Mamai was not so prepared, and she fell as a result. This was the beginning of a martial awakening within Thiji, for this event catalyzed his ascent – or descent, to some – into the path of the Dark Knight. This would later be realized in its fullest when he battled against the fourfold master of the blade in His home turf: Ravana, Lord of the Hive.

“Martial perfection”, the Amalj’aa called it. The apex of one’s skill for which all Amalj’aa seek to strive. This concept stuck close to Thiji as he eventually took up the sword and shield, continuing his adventures as a Paladin during the campaign to liberate Ala Mhigo. When he had faced off against the Lady of Bliss, whose Qalyana dreamers were coaxed into summoning their false deity due to threats from the Garlean Empire, he had received word from Nyra, who bore a message from one of his Angels informing him that his then-Sultana, Nanago Nago - whom was with child and under the care of Sarielle - had succumbed to her own avarice, consuming gratuitous amounts of aether from his weapons collected throughout his journeys during the Dragonsong War. The resulting effulgence – combined with her own innate powers as an Astrologian – caused her and their unborn child to perish in a stellar explosion, effectively removing them from existence. Another crushing loss – greater, even, than the one incurred from losing Mamai. Thanks to the laws of time and space, no one but he and his Angels know of this event. Once more unhinged, Thiji found new strength in not only his martial, but his magical prowess, effectively dispatching of the Lady of Bliss, though at the cost of his own blade and board… and his soul crystal, which he casted away with his armor following the battle.

It always seemed passing strange that the Dunesfolk nobleman from the Near East would gain new strength and prowess by leaps and bounds at the expense of some tragedy – this only further added to his eccentricity. He was a calm individual, but was incredibly vindictive – especially if one ever crossed his Angels, whom he cared for so dearly. Others may not have picked up on the cause of these… awakenings, but Thiji was more than aware of it. Some days following the Largesse, when he was alone in his Aldenard Branch office, he gazed upon a glistening blue greatsword of exquisite make. It was made by a Dragoon friend of his who had a fascination for all things Allagan, and upon the length of the blade was an engraved sentence:

“As long as you make it out of a battle alive, you're one step closer to fulfilling your dream.”

More than just pretty words to the Mythrite Sultan. He had experienced many battles and came out of each intact. Even now, as the kingpin of the Higuri Regalia, Thiji had even conquered a battlefield which extended beyond the physical: the realm of high fashion. He toiled for many winters to get to where he is now; to be the titan of aesthetic and philanthropy which has earned the respect of many (and, for some reason, the ire of some). Yet therein lies the problem:

What dream remained?

Sure, Thiji Higuri was a man of ambition and intellect. But he had not enjoyed the pursuit of a dream since the assault on Djanan Qhat. Ever since he was a child, he was spellbound by a particular play, and never missed a single showing. Thiji had experienced it so many times that he could (and probably still) recite the entire script verbatim. It was a tale of romance and tragedy; of a powerful sorceress with a good heart who stood up for a broken country’s people, and the solitary man who rose up to defend her: the Sorceress’s Knight.

A dream he may have fulfilled after the Dragonsong War, but was snatched away prior to Ala Mhigo’s freedom. It was a sensitive topic, and seldom brought up in the Mythrite Sultan’s presence, lest an Angel earns his anger. Why keep the claymore, then, if he had no dream to pursue? What other meaning could the decorative sword have to Thiji if he is a man bereft of that driving force?

The evening following the Largesse, the Mythrite Sultan was no longer present at the Aldenard Branch. He had begun making for the Main Branch for reasons as of yet unknown – probably to oversee the release of the Blessed Wardrobe’s second clothing line. As usual, his Advisor, Veeveena Veena, was present in his chambers, enjoying some Winter Lassi as she gazed upon the moon with that lovely smile on her face. It was yet another peaceful night in Radz-at-Han, and though she has seen the view many times, it was no less breathtaking to behold for the Near Eastern flower.

Veeveena took a few sips of her drink as the winds suddenly began to rise. The trees amidst the emergent layer of the jungle which could be seen from the city began to sway and billow, and would eventually cause a whisper or three to blow through the balcony. The sudden shift in temperature caught her off guard as the Dunesfolk woman let out a soft gasp, stumbling somewhat, but maintained her posture as the numerous jewels and decorations on her sampot clinked like wind chimes against her body.

“This breeze…” she whispered to herself. “Could it be the North Wind? Has he arrived in Radz-at-Han?” The sheer thought of meeting the elusive debonair was too enticing to resist, and Veeveena would quickly down the last of the lassi, enduring the brain freeze that would follow. As swiftly as she could, she doffed her garb to put on some evening attire before making her flight from the Main Branch Headquarters. Forgoing the usual method of taking the bridge out from the city, she utilized her fans to conjure wind-aspected aether to propel herself upward, gliding down gracefully toward the canopy.

Meanwhile, as Veeveena made her way to the rivulet, a lone figure was seen dancing about. It was shrouded entirely thanks to the shadows cast by the dense canopy beneath Menphina’s light. The figure’s movements were seamless, effortlessly transitioning into fouettes, sliding along the waters from one side to the other as they froze over, striping the rivulet with bands of ice. All throughout was the sound of steel ringing through the night air, and that same icy wind began picking up once more as the figure gathered aetherial energy for a brief moment before soaring from one end of the river to the other in a twirling flourish. Upon reaching the apex of the jump, it performed a flawless jete, the silvery moon cloaking the figure all the while as if the spectacle was taken straight out from a painting. The concealed terpsichorean was releasing the stored energy as it did its finish, resulting in an arch of slick ice to form over the rivulet. Sticking the landing with one final twirl into a plie, it detected movement within the trees. It did not bother to take the time to discern the incoming presence, and instead fled the scene with a blinding dash into the forest floor.

When Veeveena had finally emerged, the figure she believed to be the North Wind was nowhere to be found. All that she beheld was the stark scenery of a partly-frozen rivulet, the banks dotted with shards of frost, and an arch spanning its breadth. “This is beautiful… but the North Wind could not do this,” she thought, as she felt the scintillant snow particles kissing her face. While she was awestruck at the sight, Veeveena had to report this occurrence to her peers. Without wasting another moment, she contacted the Angels at the Main Branch, who would then arrive within the bell.

The “S” Trio (Sena, Sona, Suna) and the “L” Trio (Lena, Luma, Lina) were investigating the area as Veeveena brought them up to speed on what happened to the best of her ability. Sosona was easily able to deduce that the lingering aether was not the result of a primal’s thanks to her aetherometer obtained by the Scions of the Seventh Dawn (who, when asked about how she acquired them, stated that they didn’t seem to be using them anymore anyway); Lelena and Lilina, with their own unique abilities, further deduced that the culprit was not using the ambient aether or the influence of a construct; Luluma and Susuna had also come to the conclusion that the focus area was away from any wildlife or beastmen, so none were harmed from the result of this… phenomenon.

What really stood out, however, was Sesena’s observation after gazing upon the frozen arch for several minutes:

“Hey, Angels… do any of you feel… different?” she asked them. “Miss Veeveena?”

“Yes,” she replied. “I thought I was the only one who felt such… emotion from this scene, so I did not address it.”

“Miss Veeveena’s right… I don’t feel all that chipper,” Lilina commented, holding a hand to her heart. “It’s not… aether sickness, but when I gaze upon this scene, I’m seemingly overcome with… sorrow. But it’s a sort of… beautiful sorrow – like a dying maiden being held in her lover’s arms before the last flames of life fade from her eyes…”

The other Angels absorbed Lilina’s words, taking in the scenery, watching the snow particles dance in the air. The longer they remained, the more these senses seemed more profound. They may have been involved in many conflicts both small and large, but the Angels were no strangers to emotion – especially ones as palpable as what they were experiencing. They felt tranquility… yet sadness; bliss… yet loss. It was as if they were traversing a thin line between positive and negative emotion.

“I’ve heard tales of his prowess, Angels, but I don’t think even the North Wind is capable of something like this,” Sesena commented.

“Whomever it is,” Sosona began, “they’re damn good at expressing themselves.” The Angels remained for a while longer, until the icy spectacle would be whisked away by an errant gust of wind, freeing the rivulet from its frozen state in a cloud of diamond dust.

From atop the city in the Main Branch Headquarters, a Lalafell woman veiled in mythril blue and silver watched silently from her vantage point. Lady Mimizo, the Valide Sultan, was surprisingly awake during this bell, her face obscured by one of her fans. But for what reason was she spying on the Angels?

As Nyra flew to her side, Mimizo looked over her shoulder to find a slumbering Thiji, who seemed to be well into his sleep, a rare smile of content made visible on his face. His mother would grin in kind as she gave a kiss to the owl’s cheek.

“[I am indebted to you, Nyra. Thank you for keeping this secret for so long. But soon, the Angels will have to know. Until then, pray hold your tongue a while longer],” Mimizo whispered to Nyra in their native tongue. She would bow her head before taking wing, flying off into the night sky. Mimizo gazed upon the vestiges of the ice particles swirling into the heavens, enjoying the sight for a moment before quietly leaving her son’s bed chambers. She would return to accompany her husband before the Angels would make their way back to report this event to the other branches.

“May your dreams bring you the bliss you so rightfully deserve, my beloved son…”

#thiji higuri #ffxiv #higuri regalia #ffxiv a realm reborn #balmung #lalafell #endwalker #thavnair #hannish #radz at han #thavnairian #short story #dancer

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deadanddeactivated · 5 years ago

Text

Mirrors

Fandom: Sanders Sides Pairing: DRLAMP Characters: Virgil, Roman, Patton, Logan, Deceit, Remus Notes: Day 19 for @tsshipmonth2020 - DRLAMP. Slowly I shall pick at this prompts. Perhaps by the end of the year I will have finished this month long event. In other news, this au is based off an original work of mine so if you want more of the universe let me know, ‘cause it has its own story. WARNINGS: Slight mention of child abuse, slight mention of character death Summary: Virgil has been standing in front of the mirror for an hour. Probably longer, actually. Roman only noticed an hour ago but Virgil could very well have been standing there all day.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

AO3

–

Virgil has been standing in front of the mirror for an hour. Probably longer, actually. Roman only noticed an hour ago but Virgil could very well have been standing there all day.

It wouldn’t be the first time.

Roman doesn’t get it. He knows Virgil doesn’t see anything in that mirror. Not himself or the world beyond it. And he knows Virgil isn’t about to step through. He wouldn’t risk that.

So why does he stand there? Stuck in thoughts that just make him feel worse?

Roman sighs, leaning back against the wall and trying to figure out how to help. He’s not very good at this. Patton is. Patton wouldn’t hesitate like Roman. Patton would have walked in the first time he saw Virgil, pulling him out of his focus with a smile and making Virgil’s eyes brighten. Even just a little bit.

But Patton isn’t here.

He could be. If Roman asked, he’d come running, especially if he heard Virgil needed help.

But Roman saw the bruises last time Patton disobeyed his father. As much as Patton tried to hide them, Roman has those marks burned into his brain.

Virgil does too. Virgil probably knows more than Roman, because Virgil saw the Other Patton and the Other Patton’s Father. He’s hated Patton’s father a lot more since.

So no, there’s no asking Patton for help. Not this time. Which just leaves Roman. Useless Roman who's too scared to even step into the room, so worried he’s going to mess everything up that he doesn’t even want to try.

Some friend he is.

“I can see you, you know.” Virgil calls, making Roman startle and look up. “Just because I don’t see my reflection doesn’t mean I can’t see yours.” He hasn’t looked away from the mirror but Virgil’s eyes have focused on the Roman reflected in the door. Think of something witty, Roman tells himself, make a vampire joke or say something so brilliant that he has to smile.

“Sorry.” He says when nothing else comes to mind. With a gesture of his head, Virgil beckons Roman over to stand with him. For a moment they both just stare at the mirror, Roman seeing two boys reflected back while Virgil only sees one. Then Roman asks, even though he doesn’t think he should, “what are you staring at?”

“...Nothing.” Is Virgil’s belated response, followed by sigh. He makes it sound like the greatest defeat, the heaviest weight. It probably is. Roman didn’t have to give up what Virgil did, even if Virgil didn’t have a choice.

“Then why are you staring?” Roman continues to press without thinking. He immediately winces, wanting to take it back, but this time Virgil’s answer comes quickly.

“Sometimes I just… think about it.” He says. “About what life is like for them now.”

“Oh.” Roman says, like he hasn’t thought of that every night. Like he hasn’t stared at his ceiling the way Virgil stares at this mirror. He gets it now. “It’s better probably. Better than it used to be.”

“Better than it is here?” Virgil asks.

“I hope so.” Roman practically whispers. “I hope they got their happily ever after.” Not like us, he doesn’t say. “I hope they’re together.” Not like us. Silence returns and Roman doesn’t break it. He doesn’t even look away from the mirror. Instead of seeing himself, he tries to see someone else. He imagines a moustache, hair that’s partly dyed and completely unstyled. Clothes that manage to be more dramatic and yet somehow more appropriate.

It’s just a fantasy though. Roman knows he isn’t going to see Remus staring back at him anymore. The barriers are back, they’re stronger than ever.

“Is it bad I hope they miss us?” Virgil eventually breaks the silence, breaks the illusion Roman is wanting desperately to believe.

“No.” He says. “I hope they miss us.” I miss them.

“They probably don’t have time to miss us.” Virgil sighs and, for the first time, he looks away from the mirror. “They probably don’t care.”

“Virgil…” Roman breathes, turning to look at the named boy. He can just make out the tears Virgil’s trying to hold back and it breaks his heart. But what’s he meant to do? Patton would know. Patton’s good at this.

Roman has to try anyway.

“Of course they miss us.” He says. “None of what we had was fake, they were as heartbroken as we were when our worlds were cut off.” Not literally, not for people like Virgil. But no one wants to risk either world coming so close to shattering again.

“Sure, but they’re heroes now.” Virgil points out. “Why would they care about us?” About us, he says. About me, Roman hears.

“They care because they love us.” Roman says, turning to face Virgil probably. Virgil doesn’t return the favour until Roman gently guides his head so they can look each other in the eye. “They love you Virgil.” He says. “I love you.” He adds. That’s the last straw for Virgil it seems, who loses his fight against his tears. He clings to Roman, crying into his shoulder. All Roman can do is cling back.

“I wasn’t… I wasn’t sure if…” Virgil tries to explain but Roman shushes him.

“I’m sorry.” He says. “I should have said it sooner. I just… I was worried I wouldn’t be enough by myself.” He admits. “I mean…” This time Virgil shushes him, pulling back to meet his eyes.

“You’ve always been enough.” He promises. “I miss them, I love them. But I love you too. I don’t… I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you too.”

“You won’t lose me.” Roman promises. “Not ever.”

They fall asleep in front of the mirror, tangled together in a mess of limbs and tears.

“Roman! Virgil! Wake up I have to show you something!!” Roman wakes up slowly and confused.

“Patton?” He mumbles, rubbing sleep from his eyes and grabbing the glasses Virgil had insisted he get last night. (Just because they slept in front of the mirror that didn’t mean Virgil was going to let Roman sleep with his contacts in). “How’d you get in here?” He asks when the blurry figure does prove to be his very grounded, very not allowed to be near them, friend.

“That’s what I’m going to show you!” Patton grins, practically bouncing with excitement.

“You learnt to pick a lock?” Virgil guesses, not sounding nearly as asleep as Roman still feels.

“No.” Patton laughs. “Wait, have you been crying?” He frowns, all excitement gone.

“I… was.” Virgil admits because there’s no hiding the red of his eyes and cheeks. (Although there’s no longer any streaks of make-up, if Roman wasn’t sleeping in his contacts Virgil wasn’t sleeping with eyeshadow steaming down his face). “But I’m okay now.”

“You are?” Roman checks, one part because he’s worried and one part because he has trouble believing he helped that much.

“Yeah.” Virgil assures, smiling a little and taking Roman’s hand.

“If you’re sure.” Patton says, still frowning a little. “Just know that I love you alot, okay?”

“Thanks Patton.” Virgil smiles. A moment later he raises an eyebrow when Patton hasn’t continued/ “What was it you wanted to show us?” He prompts.

“Oh! Right!” Patton starts. “Watch this!” Virgil and Roman can only frown as Patton takes two steps backwards and then…

And then disappears into the mirror.

“Patton!” Virgil shouts. He doesn’t think about the ban on travel between worlds, doesn’t think of the risk. He simply runs right into the mirror, pulling Roman by their tangled hands. Roman shuts his eyes on the moment of impact, feeling as though he’s jumping through a window of a sheet of ice for just a second before his feet touch solid ground again. Opening his eyes, Roman finds himself in a very familiar living room.

It’s not large, because it’s not really a living room. It was something of a kitchenette between several small bunks, with access to the bathroom. He’s not sure how they managed to squeeze a couch and a coffee table against the other wall. Or how the five of them managed to fit on that couch, even as cuddled up as they would get.

“Oh my god.” Roman breaths, suddenly feeling as though he didn’t cry all his tears out last night.

“You guys can do it too!” Patton grins, looking like he’d been about to run back through the mirror.

“You gave me a heart attack Patton!” Virgil snaps. A quick squeeze on his hand reminds Virgil to take a deep, steadying breath.

“Since when can you do that Patton?” Roman asks as Virgil calms down.

“I’m not sure.” Patton shrugs. “Father put a ban on like all mirrors in the house after I woke up but we went to a family friend’s the other day and I noticed I didn’t have a reflection and I tapped the mirror and I fell right through! There’s a whole other world over here!”

“Of course.” Virgil says, running a hand through his hair. “I should have realized you’d become a singularity.” He mutters. On one hand that’s fair, because the Other Patton well… uh, went the way of the Other Virgil, or the way of Roman’s father, or… the point is, the Other Patton is gone. And because Patton, like Virgil, survived that it only makes sense he’d be a singularity and be able to hope between worlds.

On the other hand Virgil’s not giving himself enough credit because he did guess that, and they talked about it several times. But Patton didn’t mention anything so they figured things were different now with the barriers fixed and Patton wasn’t a singularity.

Apparently, they were wrong about that.

“That’s what Logan called it!” Patton says. “Did you two already know about all this stuff?” He pouts. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“You met Logan?” Roman asks, emotions running through him just as strongly as they hand looking around the room. They’re really back. They could really… they could really see the others again.

“You did already know this!” Patton frowns, arms crossed over his chest.

“We couldn’t tell you, you were in a coma.” Virgil says as though it’s that simple. It’s not, but Roman doesn’t really want to explain that the Other Patton had just been shot and their Patton was only barely clinging to life before Virgil had been with him and able to use his new magical skills. “After that things were… complicated.”

“Complicated?” Patton presses.

“Well, we’re not really meant to be jumping between worlds anymore so…” Virgil trails off.

“Logan said that too.” Patton admits. “But I missed you guys!”

“Hey, no complaints from me Pat. This is great!” Roman grins, pulling the slightly shorter man into a tight hug. He’s missed Pat almost as much as he’s missed the others. And only almost because he’s seen Patton more recently.

“Yeah, until you-know-who finds out.” Virgil mumbles. “We should leave now, before he finds out.”

“Or we see the others first, and then leave before he finds out.” Roman suggests once he’s let go of Patton. “We’ll have to jump back anyway, what does it change if we do it now or later?”

“Oh! If you’re looking for Logan I can take you to him!” Patton offers.

“You know you want to.” Roman pushes when Virgil hesitates a moment.

“I do.” He gives. “Okay, led the way Pat.” Patton does so happily, chatting all the way about his last few days in this world and getting every detail he can about Roman and Virgil’s trips. (He’s rather upset to hear they saved the world without him, but he begrudgingly forgives them because of the coma).

“Uh, are you sure this is the right place?” Roman asks when Patton stops in front of a large, familiar foor.

“This is definitely Logan’s office!” Patton assures in a way that is not at all assuring.

“Maybe we should-” But before Virgil can finish protesting, Patton’s pushed open the door.

“Logan! I know you said to wait until you assessed the barrier, but I couldn’t!” He announces. Roman and Virgil are both frozen to the spot until they actually see the man before the desk.

It is, indeed, Logan.

Which is…

Wow, okay, clearly they’ve missed a lot.

“Patton I told you that’s dangerous.” Logan frowns, looking up. To his credit, his eyes barely widened when he spots Roman and Virgil standing just behind Patton.

“It was really quick, I promise.” Patton assures.

“It is the action of jumping that is dangerous, not the time taken.” Logan sighs. “You could have destroyed both our worlds.”

“Oh.” Patton mumbles. “I didn’t think it would be that bad…”

“Gee Logan.” Virgil says, trying for a lighthearted tone. It almost works, until he continues. “You’d think you weren’t happy to see us.” That sounds just a bit too real to be teasing. Logan notices it too, his eyes softening.

“I never said that.” He says. “I’m incredibly happy to see you both, although I’m rather surprised.”

“I came and said hi and they followed me back.” Patton explains.

“Patton just stepped through a mirror, I panicked.” Virgil adds sheepishly.

“We were holding hands.” Roman finishes, raising their still joined hands for emphasis.

“I see.” Logan nods, raising from behind the desk. “You don’t have anything to worry about here. Our previous general was fired and I took his place, I’m certainly not going to begrudge you such a visit.”

“Oh, good. I was worried about getting another lecture.” Virgil says with a wince.

“General Loganberry.” Roman hums. “I like it.”

“Roman.” Logan scolds, face heating up the way it always does when they use pet names.

“Do you have a uniform?” Roman asks. “I love a man in uniform.”

“Wait, were you dating? That means… you two had three boyfriends you never told me about!” Patton pouts.

“Have.” Logan corrects. “They have three boyfriends. As I recall there was no discussion of breaking up, simply an acknowledgement we were unlikely to see each other again.”

“And how glad I am we were wrong.” Roman says, taking Logan’s hand in his free one to press a kiss to it.

“Roman you’re hogging all the flirting.” Virgil complains and this time his tone really is lighthearted.

“I must agree, though I am not often wrong I am happy to be this time. I have missed your pretty face.” Logan says and Virgil bursts into laughter when Roman’s face turns red.

“Can’t handle what you dish out.” He teases.

“Oh shush.” Roman huffs. “I’m just glad to see you laugh again.” He mumbles and regrets it when that seems to kill the mood.

“It has been rather sombre here as well without the both of you.” Logan eventually breaks the moment.

“We missed you too Logan.” Virgil returns.

“Oh that’s it!” Roman decides enough is enough and immediately pulls his boys into a tight hug.

“This is rather inappropriate.” Logan complains, even as his arms wrap tight around Roman and Virgil. “I’m working.”

“Work later, reunion now.” Roman decides.

“Well if that’s the case we’re missing two. Dante’s working not fair from here and Remus should be back by now.” Logan says. Despite his words, he still takes a moment before pulling away. “I’ll page them.”

“You two really had a whole life here, huh?” Patton mumbles as Logan moves to the desk. Roman’s ashamed to admit it had sort of, maybe, slipped his mind that Patton was there.

“More or less.” He admits. “Virgil went back and forth but after Remus accidently pulled me in here, well… you were in hospital there wasn’t much to go back to.”

“Then why’d you come back at all?” Patton asks.

“We had to.” Roman says. “The barriers were fixed, the world was stable. We couldn’t risk wrecking that. Besides, you were awake by then.”

“You barely saw me after I woke up.” Roman doesn’t have an answer for that so he gives Patton a quick side hug.

As they wait for the others, Logan catches them up on what’s changed. He tells them how they’re rebuilding since the world almost ended and since the war really did end. Logan’s been trying his best to handle everything from the top while Dante handles the rebuilding from the ground. Remus has mostly been scouting, checking for safe places to build and rounding up what remains of the Dragon Witch’s supporters. Which isn’t much. Patton listens just as attentively as Virgil and Roman, having been largely unaware of the big picture of this world's past.

Their conversation is ended by a knock at the door.

“Come in.” Logan announces.

“Is everything alright love, or are you finally growing lax on your room against pda during work hours?” Dante asks as he steps inside. Then, as he spots who’s sitting on the couch (much larger and more comfortable than the one in their common room), he freezes.

“Hey De.” Virgil greets sheepishly while Roman just grins.

“...I don’t believe I’ve gotten enough sleep.” Dante said.

“Not with those bags under your eyes you haven’t.” Roman huffs. Dante does look rather more tired than usual. Even more tired than Logan looks. “You’re almost as bad as Virgil.”

“I’m hallucinating Roman so he can tell me off for my sleep schedule.” Dante says, sighing to himself.

“You’re not hallucinating.” Logan assures.

“I went and got them!” Patton adds.

“Can a hallucination look this good?” Roman jokes.

“Then perhaps I’m just dreaming.” Dante says, taking cautious steps to the couch.

“I can pinch you if you want.” Virgil offers, smirking.

“No thank you, I remember when you did that last it was horrible.” Dante shuts that down immediately but makes the mistake of getting closer enough for Roman to reach out.

“I’ll do it.” He announces, pinching Dante on the arm.

“Ouch!” Dante frowns. “Roman.” He scolds.

“Now you know you’re not dreaming.” Roman assures, and then grabs Dante to pull him onto the couch. “I missed you.”

“We both missed you.” Virgil says.

“And I missed you, it’s a clear cycle of missing yes.” Dante says, rolling his eyes and turning to cuddle into Roman and reaching across his lap to take Virgil’s hand.

“It’s so weird to see you all so cuddly.” Patton comments. “I mean Roman’s always cuddly, and Virgil a little bit, but Logan and Dante is definitely weird.”

“You should have heard Logan having emotions for the first time.” Roman teases.

“It was a perfectly precise presentation!” Logan argues.

“It was an essay.” Virgil reminds.

“Falsehood!” Logan snaps. “It was a report.”

“It was twenty pages long.” Dante says.

“Aw, that sounds really sweet.” Patton smiles.

“Certainly sweeter than Dante.” Roman says.

“You just started squealing.” Virgil points out.

“I was excited!”

“BABE YOU ALRIGHT?!” A blur comes racing into the room, skidding to a stop and then gasping as the figure spots everyone. “VIRGIL-POO, BROMAN!” Remus shouts, grinning ear to ear.

“Oh no.” Is all Dante has time to say before Remus is pouncing onto the couch.

“Hey Remus.” Virgil smiles, hugging back.

“And whose number three?” Remus asks, turning to probably look at Patton who waves sheepishly from the armchair. “Patton!” He grins.

“Uh, hi?” Patton returns. “How do you know my name?”

“Roman and Virgil spoke of you constantly.” Dante says, smirking at the muttered ‘shut up’ he got in response.

“Patton, this is Remus. If you remember, he was on a scouting mission until this morning.” Logan introduces.

“I’m Roman’s Opposite!” Remus adds.

“Opposite?” Patton frowns.

“I explained that everyone has an Other in this world, except for Singularities. Well, Opposites are another exception like Singularities. Instead of being mostly similar copies like Others are, Opposites are often as different as oil and water.” Logan explains.

“Just my luck that I got stuck with an Opposite like Remus, huh?” Roman teases, grinning at Patton.

“I don’t know, I like him.” Virgil smiles.

“Gross.” Roman complains at the same time that Remus says ‘aw babe!’. Remus leans in, assumedly to kiss Virgil’s cheek, only to at the last minute lick it.

“I take it back.” Virgil decides.

“Nuh-uh, no take-backsies. There was a clause about that in the romance contract Logan wrote!” Remus says.

“It was a report!”

They chat well into the night. It’s only as they stepped back into their little common space, as Roman and Virgil see the mirror in the corner, that they remember.

“...We should go.” Virgil mumbles. “We don’t know the side effects of sticking around.”

“With the barriers fixed and everything in balance, there shouldn’t be any ill effects to you staying.” Logan says.

“Except what will happen when we jump through the barrier after it’s had time to close the gap from this morning.” Virgil argues. There’s a moment of silence before Dante clears his throat.

“What I believe Logan is trying to say is, you could stay here. Forever.” He clarifies.

“Stay?” Roman repeats, eyes widening. It’s something he’d considered once or twice but never seriously. After all, the old general would never have allowed it and they had Patton on the other side. But with Logan the general and Patton here… well, what’s stopping them?

“Your rooms are still set up.” Remus says. “We haven’t even let them collect dust!”

“Of course only if you want to.” Logan adds. “We understand if you have commitments over there.”

“I don’t have anything.” Virgil admits after a minute, looking at Roman as he speaks. “I… I’d rather stay here.” Would you? He’s asking. For a moment Roman thinks of it but… well, any empty house and a life he’s not sure how to go back to. It’s not a compelling argument against staying.

“Same.” He smiles.

“I uh, I guess I should go now then.” Patton mumbles, making the others look back at him. “Is there, is there anything you want me to tell anyone?”

“You are welcome to stay if you’d like Patton.” Logan offers.

“Oh no, I don’t want to intrude.” Patton says, shaking his head.

“You really wouldn’t be, Roman and Virgil have been crushing on you longer than we’ve known them.” Dante says.

“Dante!” Virgil and Roman scold, turning back to glare at their smirking boyfriend.

“I thought Patton already knew!” Remus gasps. “I would have spilled the beans way earlier!”

“Why am I dating any of you?” Virgil mutters to himself.

“Really?” Patton asks, sounding so hopeful that it makes Roman’s heart want to burst.

“Yeah.” Virgil says, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Really.” He nods.

“I think I started crushing on Roman while we were talking about being in love with you.” Virgil admits. Which is really cute and Roman almost wants to say ‘same’ except that’d be a lie. Roman fell in love with Virgil when he saw him handling that spear in combat.

Patton doesn’t seem to mind, grinning widely and jumping to wrap an arm around both their necks. “I feel the same!” He announces. “I’d love to say.”

“Then I suppose we’ll see how this all goes.” Logan smiles.

“Pst, I bet it’ll go great.” Remus faux-whispers to Patton, making him laugh.

“Oh my god.” Roman stops as he realizes something. “You think we’ll end up on BuzzFeed Unsolved for disappearing like this?” Only Virgil and Patton understand what he means, and only Patton laughs.

“That’s it.” Virgil decides. “Logan and Patton, you’re my favourite boyfriends.

Patton’s grin is splitting.

141 notes · View notes

brooklyn2006 · 4 years ago

Text

The cafe

MENTIONS OF ABUSE AND RAPE

After three failed serious relationships, love just seemed silly and meaningless. You were almost certain you’d never find true love. It was you that was the problem, the reason the relationships never worked out. You were too clingy, fell in love too fast, spoke too much and never did enough for your supposably other half. At least that was the last thing said in arguments before the men you loved walked out of your life. All those things were true and you had come to terms with it, taking it on board with every relationship you got into, but it still always ended and was still because of you. You decided to prioritize work over love after Hunter left, he broke it off because you’re ‘a lazy ass who doesn’t make any money and relies on the people you sleep with to pay the bills’. With a stable job and a good income, this was the one sentence you didn’t believe said about you, but it still made you work even harder. You had two jobs to keep you busy. A primary school teacher three days a week and a café manager, but inly worked on sight for two days.

-May 23rd 2019-

It was Thursday today which meant working at the café. You got there around 4:30AM to prepare all the sweets, but you didn’t officially open until 6AM. You were in the middle of making a cinnamon scroll when you heard the bells jingle at the front door indicating someone had walked in. You looked over your shoulder at the clock that read 5:17AM and sighed. You finished off putting the second round of scrolls in the oven and walked to the counter with the first freshly cooked ones. There was a tall man standing near the end of the café looking over some of the books, then picking one up and flipping through the pages after reading the blurb.

“Good morning sir, can I help you?” You asked softly, not to startle him.

“Oh sorry, good morning” He smiled turning around to face you, his pupils dilating at the sight of you standing there in your apron with icing sugar all over your face. “Um-“He starts but then cutting himself off with his thoughts, suddenly forgetting why he walked in.

“We aren’t open yet, but if you’re on the go I can make you a quick something?” You offered, kindly letting him know you’re not open.

“Oh I’m sorry I didn’t realise you weren’t open, I just saw the lights on and assumed” He put the book back on the shelf and walked towards you.

“That’s alright, can I get you something?”

“Um, if it’s not out of your way, could I just have a black coffee?”

You smiled up at him and put it into the cash register then walked to the side to make the coffee.

“What brings you walking around at 5 in the morning?”

You make conversation with this man for what feels like hours, but was really half an hour until opening time and you had to get busy.

“Oh before you leave sir-“

“Harry” He puts his hand out for you to shake

“Harry, would you like a freshly made cinnamon scroll for your travels? Made by me of course” You say already getting it ready without giving him time to say no.

“Would love one” He says getting out his wallet

“On the house Harry, for keeping me company this morning”

“Then keep this as a tip, for the friendly service” He says sliding the 10 dollar tip over the counter towards you.

“Oh, no Harry, take it back please”

“Come on, I insist” You hesitate but take the money and exchange a small smile, before he leaves the café. When you hear the bells ring to indicate his left, you bring the money out of your apron pocket and put it in the tip jar.

It was a pretty normal day at the café. You’ve been working at the café pretty much since you started university 6 years ago, you were a trusted employee, which lead to the owner resigning and asking you to become manager. It was around 7PM when you peeked outside the window to see the pouring rain hitting the side walk. You lived a short distance from the café, so you walked. Now regretting your decision to leave your rain coat at home. You grabbed the last two scrolls and jelly slices to take with you on your wet walk home. As you closed the doors, you saw a familiar figure standing at the window of your café, but looking at the book section.

“Harry?”

“Hey- uh… I didn’t get your name earlier, sorry”

“Y/N” you smile. The majority of the day, this man standing in front of you consumed your thoughts. Something about him was so chronic. By the way he looked, he should be a dick, a heart breaker, but he wasn’t. Well he didn’t seem like it.

“y/n” he repeated smiling at himself. “Closing up?”

“Yup” you say holding up the bag to show that you were packed up.

You spoke back and forth for a while until your phone buzzed which reminded you of the time. “I should get going now, before the rain gets even worse”

You both looked around at the weather. “You’re walking home?”

“I didn’t realise this morning when I left it would be raining and I like to walk before a long day at work”

“Let me give you a lift” He stated more than asked.

“Thank you Harry, but I couldn’t ask you to do that, not after your tip this morning”

“The tip you put into the tip jar and didn’t keep for yourself?”

You looked at the ground not being able to hold in the smile. He was watching you, even after he left. You let out a small laugh, making Harry chuckle, something so small that you did was contagious to him.

“Let me take you home” He say once again stepping closer to you so you can be shielded underneath his umbrella as the wind picked up and pushed the rain in your direction.

You gave him a look saying ‘are you sure’, to which he replied with a smile and a nod. Moments later you were getting into his car, giving him your address, then last minute inviting him in to say thank you and for another sweet you made this morning.

May 24th 2019

It was a late night of small conversation over desert and wine between you and Harry. The late night an alcohol opened you both up about your lives. Not too much, but enough to lose sleep over thinking about him. He left just after midnight, promising he’d come bright and early the next morning for his black coffee and cinnamon scroll.

He held up to his promise, coming nearly at the exact same time, 5:31AM.

“Good morning y/n, how’d you sleep?” He asked walking through the doors, pulling of his grey beanie.

“Good thanks” You replied already getting his black coffee ready.

Much to Harry’s dismay, he didn’t get much sleep last night. He could blame it on the alcohol and say that’s why you were on his mind for hours until his useless alarm went off. But, the alcohol wasn’t to blame because it’s not the first time his mind only held you. He wanted to ask you out. To show you a good time. A good time with him.

“What are your plans for tonight?” he asks shaky at first, but finishing strong

You thought for a moment. “Uh- no plans tonight”

“Would you like to make plans with me tonight? I could use the company” he asks hopefully

As soon as the words hit your ears, butterflies explored your stomach, almost making your legs weak. You cursed yourself for feeling this way, even after promising yourself you wouldn’t fall again. Oh, how you wanted to say no, how you wished he wasn’t so damn resistible to make you say “Sure”.

“How does the bar sound? The one down the street?”

7:30PM

Your floor was a mess after throwing unapproved dresses on the floor. Again scolding yourself for putting this much effort into looking good for someone, who you don’t want to look good for. Finally you came upon the perfect dress in your closet. It was a basic, tight black dress that reached your mid-thigh with sleeves that wrapped around your forearm. You tied up the string covering your exposed breast. You grabbed your clutch, put on your black heals and sat on the couch waiting for Harry to knock on your door.

Just as you were getting lost in your thoughts, you heard the knock you’ve been waiting for. Checked your appearance in the mirror once more before unlocking the door to the gorgeous Harry Styles. He looked unlike you’ve ever seen him before. You wanted to stare, to run your fingertips over his partly exposed chest and trace over his butterfly tattoo. It took more than mental and physical strength to stop yourself from doing just that. You brought your eyes to the floor, too embarrassed by your vibrant red cheeks to meet his eyes. Harry using your lack of eye contact to his advantage to look at you. He didn’t want to take his eyes off you.

“You look really nice Harry”

“Y/N- you- uh, you look gorgeous!”

You internally roll your eyes, just as your blush was disappearing, he makes it come back up.

You meet with his eyes as he holds out his hand for you to hold.

It was a comfortable silence on the way there. Both of you stealing unknown glances at each other’s complexion.

You arrived at the club and headed straight to the bar, to buy your first drinks. It two shots and 15 minutes until you let your hair down and had fun. You danced the night away with Harry. Swaying chest on chest to the beat and singing to your favourite songs. You felt happy with Harry, dancing with him here, right now, you’ve never felt safer with anyone before. It scared you, but the alcohol in your system plucked the emotion from your mind for your sober mind to deal with. The drinks were catching up with your bladder, so you left Harry’s side for the first time tonight so you could relieve the throbbing feeling. You fix yourself up and go to head back to Harry when you felt someone’s eyes on you that had a different vibe to Harry’s. You mindfully twist your head over your shoulder, only to see your most recent ex- boyfriend, Hunter. You agreed that Hunter was your worst boyfriend. Taking your self- doubt and insecurities to his own advantages. Cheating on you, then making you the victim. Said the most disheartening comments on your appearance and personality. You sucked in a breath when you met his gaze, thinking back to the physical and mental abuse he caused you the last time you met. You quickly turned your gaze back to where harry was. He was sitting in the booth at the back waiting for you to come back. You quicken your pace before a hand grasped your elbow pulling you to a halt. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was. You were praying Harry would look over and see what was happening. You knew what Hunter was like when he had a few drinks in him too well.

“Hunter, let go of me” You state sternly. In your relationship, you’ve never spoken to him in that tone or even defended yourself like you are now.

“Well, hi to you to honey” ‘Honey’ a name he called you, in which only brought back graphic images into your head. You looked around back at Harry frantically trying to see if he noticed, to your concern, his still invested In his beer.

“Hunter, let me go” You almost yell, looking him dead in the eye.

“What makes you think you can talk like that to me” He pulls you in closer, close enough you can smell every drink that’s gone past his Tounge. “HUH” he yells. You flinch, trying to pull away your arm as well as covering the fear your eyes hold. Come on Harry. You think.

Hunter starts pulling you towards the front of the bar. His grip so tight on your wrist you can ear your bones clicking, like when you crack your knuckles.

You yell repeatedly, for him to release you. Given up on trying to hide your fear. You look back over your shoulder, no longer in view of Harry.

Hunter pushes your body up against a wall, were intoxicated people are In a heavy make-out session. He starts to untie the strings around your breast, the only thing other than your too tight bra keeping them from spilling. His other hand slowly rising up your leg from your knee to your crouch. He push at his chest, screaming for help, but it’s the silent part of the club. For all the terrible things Hunter has done to you, you’ve always gotten away from him before his threatened to go this far. You unfortunately knew how his routine worked. He’d hurt you, sometimes mentally, sometimes physically. You’d get away after cleaning up the shattered glass from his beer bottles or thrown objects that missed you by inches. You’d ‘fall asleep’ shortly after him making sure he can’t hurt you when his passed out. The next morning, it’s like nothing ever happened. This was how he fooled you: claimed “I don’t remember doing that shit, sorry Honey, it won’t happen again” kissing your cheek, then isolating himself in the garage where his beer cans were stored.

His now kneading your breast he got free from your bra, still pushing and playing with the bottom material of your dress. You’ve given up on yelling, its no use. You felt this was the end of your life. as dramatic as that sounds, you didn’t think any therapy could fix the damage he would cause to you, if he slides his dick in.

Just as he was sliding your panties to the left you felt he suddenly, forcefully being pushed away to the right. You opened your eyes for the first time since being shoved up that wall. Its Harry. You almost didn’t recognise at first, but you met with his eyes. You felt yourself let out a breath as he held you. You slid yourself off the wall onto the floor where Harry was now kneeling to comfort you.

Two security guards where handling Hunter, but you didn’t care, you didn’t want to have one last look at him for his last time of freedom. He yelled words of hate as he was getting pushed out of the club and into a police car. That’s when you let it out. All the tears you forcefully held in, came pooling out onto Harry’s exposed chest. Everything felt dark around you, like finally after all the torture, you broke. Harry rubbed reassuring circles on your back, whispering sweet words of comfort in your ears. That safe feeling that Harry had brought to you had vanished.

After continuously apologising for what this night could have gone to, harry finally offered to take you home. The whole way home, Harry held you. Wheatear it was your hand or your body, he never let you out of his touch. He held your hand and put his arm around your waist as he led you up to the front door of your apartment. He grabbed the keys out of your clutch he was holding and unlocked the door to a chilly breeze. For the first time in almost 2 hours (what felt like longer), his touch had left your skin. Usually his warmness would linger on your skin, this time it felt it wasn’t even there. It could be the cool in your home or the processing, but it wasn’t warm anymore.

Harry knew when he looked at your emotionless face that this wasn’t a rare thing for you that the man who hurt you tonight, has hurt you before. Harry was known for his heart healing, but he wasn’t sure if he could heal this heart. He gently rushed back to your side on the couch and you instantly rested your head on his lap. You were exhausted from all the crying and mental convincing that you deserved this. You fell asleep almost as soon as his fingers raked through your hair. Harry wasn’t going to be leaving your side for as long as you needed him to.

#harry styles #harry fan fic #harrystyles x reader

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imasimpforstevengrant · 5 years ago

Text

I feel you

Author's note:

@raven-romanoff

@maristela1968

For you again, lovelies!

This is the first smut I write after almost two years. I hope you like it!

As always, sorry for any typos. English is not my first language.

____________________________________

Summary: Follow up to "I understand you".

As his strange relationship with Harleen oscillates between friendship and desire, Arthur takes the things to another level.

Warnings: angst, self hatred, mentions of masturbation, swearing, house breaking, strong sexual themes and smut.

Words: 6.258

Part 1:

Part 2:

____________________________________

Arthur couldn't sleep that night. His mind, overtaken by a growing confidence, tormented with new feelings for her created a dark, devilish smile in his face. He closed the door carefully, taking off his hoodie, shirt and shoes, wearing only sweatpants around the house, smoking a cigarette. He sat on the couch, knees bouncing. Something in his chest burns. That night Arthur felt different. He felt sure of his actions, instead of the usual anxiety and fear. Replaying the wonderful moment which he was the protagonist of, savoring every detail, while directing to the table. Her voice echoed through his head, her smile painting across his memory, the way she looked at him. His feet weren't able to keep still and Arthur knew this hyperventilation was caused by the shock of his first intimate contact with a woman. He already planned what he would do once they'd meet again. Probably to take her to dinner or simply going to the playground with a coffee and cigarettes to spend the night talking.

Handing himself his treasured journal, Arthur searched for the section dedicated to her. Grabbing a pen, he wrote her name. Misspelled, but affectionately.

Harlen Quenzel.

He tried in vain to write anything else, because his mind clouded basking in a bliss he had never felt before.

The blinding white light coming from above the kitchen hindered the happy replay of the image of Harleen coming closer to him to kiss his lips. But he simply turned it off. The tips of his fingers touched the dry flesh blessed by her mouth. Lighting a cigarette he fantasizes now. Taking her in the floor, in the bedroom or in the couch... She would love it. Arthur guaranteed himself that. The proof was clear: she had enjoyed his sudden and explosive display of passion. He suppressed a chuckle, afraid of another fit of laughter. But it did not go further. He stood in the dark for a while, before going to the couch to try to get some sleep. His mind was way too excited to even hold his legs still. The lucky loner grabbed the pack of cigarettes, smoking another one immediately after finishing the other one. Thing was, he couldn't consummate his passion in this moment... But he certainly could let his mind fly by thinking about Harleen and her virtues for now. Arthur headed to the bathroom.

A little joy given by himself wouldn't be so bad. ________________________________________

Over the next two months, the strange relationship between Arthur and Harleen grew from a friendship that had frequent outbursts of passion to long hours of talking about anything, from work to jokes.

As much as Arthur felt a silently uncontrollable lust for Harleen, he truly felt affection and caring for her. This was shown in small gestures like inviting her to dinner or waiting up late when her shift was over whenever neither of them would spend the entire night sleeping. They had each other and it was okay with that. In was in these situations where their bond grew. It was so ironic that the one thing that prevented an actual rest to his tormented mind also allowed to have the closest and most meaningful relationship he ever had in his life.

Arthur became more introverted than he already was. He didn't talk too much at work and had the growing tendency to isolate from others. To his co-workers this was probably another demonstration of his deteriorated mental state but Arthur was too busy trying to cope with these new feelings. He was asked more than once about this but he avoided to answer, limiting to reply he was okay. At the end of the day, the party clown left with a anxious pace. His co-workers were sure Arthur had finally lost his mind. And in some way, he did. Why was he in a rush? They would never know.

It was saturday when things changed. Arthur came back from a gig to Haha's with his clown make up on. Once in, he cleaned it from his face to leave without saying anything afterwards, too withdrawn into his daydreaming. He set a foot into the bus, as always, facing the window. The lights of daylight disappeared into the darkness or the night, rain pouring out. Arthur shielded from the cold sinking into his partly tattered hoodie. By this hour, Harleen should have been in her workplace. He just hoped no one would harm her at the time of her return. Arthur thought he could wait for her at the building's entrance, making sure she was safe. Harleen would like it.

He thought this weekend would be different. And Arthur had a very good reason why.

_________________________________________

It was Sunday when Arthur got up early to clean the house and to prepare breakfast for Penny to feed during the first lights of day.

It was in this way he could focus completely on his upcoming date at night. As the day vanished for nighttime to arrive, he put a cheap cologne on, his pants perfectly ironed. Same with the shirt and red vest. And the usual yellow hoodie Harleen learned to love so much. His excitement reflected in his voice as he waved goodbye to his always distracted mother, who simply waved back, not interested on how much brighter Arthur's eyes were in that moment. Heading to the door, he heard a frustrating ask:

"Happy, can you put this letter in the box?"

His shoulders lose strength. Arthur tried his best to hide his annoyance.

"It's for Thomas Wayne".

"I know, mom", the whisper was almost inaudible. Returning to the living room, he took the letter gently just to jump back to the door to free himself, "I'll be back at night".

She just nodded. And he finally breathed his freedom, feeling more confident than ever. But his sense of victory over the world vanished as he realized he still had that fucking letter in hand. A tired sigh leaves his lips. But he ran as fast as possible to reach the first floor to get rid of the piece of useless attempt to get attention from a man who maybe didn't remember her. The rusty locker received it and Arthur at last could set a foot outside the building, crossing his arms.

Harleen arrived a few seconds later. Arthur smiled, coming closer to her. Her outfit was unpretentious but neat: black pants and sneakers, a red wool sweater. Her hair was done into two colourful buns and a few strands which fell into her face. But the thing he liked the most was that blood red lipstick... And her grin made it better.

"Hello, clown man", Harleen nuzzled his nose tenderly. It was an habit he loved from her, as any other touch. He chuckled, greeting her back. Then both got out of the building, leading to the donut shop so they could have coffee and toast.

"So, how was your week?", Harleen asked as Arthur held his cup, drinking the steamy hot liquid.

"It was fine. I had a gig in a children's hospital. It turned out great because it was a charity event".

"Really?"

"Yeah. They were... Getting money for families that cannot afford to pay treatments".

Harleen nodded, warming her hands with the mug. Arthur then returned the question. Harleen told him the bar had more regulars than usual. This caught her eye, and paid very much attention to it during the weekly shift.

"What is it?".

"People are drinking their souls out" she replied, after eating her toast, "and that's not all. There was a recently fired guy that feared if Wayne is elected mayor, unemployment and riots will get worse."

Arthur lowered his head. He ate the toast to state:

"Why do so many people believe in that man, anyway?"

"He's rich, successful and an entrepreneur. Men like him have no idea how to run a city for the simple fact that entrepreneurs like him see people as numbers, not as complex sentient beings."

"How come?", Arthur fixed his collar.

"They only care for economy, Arthur. They disregard the fact that not everyone has the same chances for success they had and therefore any help for impoverished people is nothing but a "waste of money". Wayne is convinced that everyone who receives any kind of welfare doesn't want to work." Arthur remained silent for a while, processing what she just said.

"Men like him will never know what is like to be someone like you or me", Harleen concluded, finishing her coffee.

"But at least we have our jobs" Arthur commented comically.

"Yeah, as long as we get paid" and both laughed.

The shop was almost empty, which made easier to listen to the radio while talking. This gave them more topics to talk about. But then a song came out. Arthur knew it, he closed his eyes, engulfing himself in the gloomy tune of the song:

"King of all

Hear me call

Hear my name

Carnival"

Harleen did not interrupt. She understood that Arthur, as an extremely introverted person, couldn't be interrupted when exploring, talking or listening. It was pleasant to see him glad or enjoying things for once. She smiled as he mouthed the lyrics, which he knew perfectly. As the song came to an end, Harleen extended her hand, eyeing Arthur to look for his approval. As much as he enjoyed the sudden outbursts of affection, Arthur still wasn't used to publicly show it. Harleen comprehended as well and wouldn't force him to do it. She discovered it when going back from a previous date when she just held his hand. He became a blushing mess but it didn't go further, thank goodness.

Arthur noted the hand whose black and red nail polish established a hurtful contrast in comparison to her light skin. He then looked at her. He slid his own towards Harleen's. Their hands intertwined. Another little touch and he was already yearning for her. Arthur wanted to love her without words, without distance between them. Just the two of them. He wanted so much to tell her, but didn't dare to. Despite the fact he adored her, there was something he could never tell her... Yet.

There was something Arthur loathed about himself but he did his best to not to give it too much importance, choosing to focus on other things, instead. Arthur Fleck was a man and as such, he had needs. But the need wasn't the problem. Satisfying it was. He was comprehensive enough to understand that motherly affection was the closest thing he ever had to love. Devoid of any bond with anyone else, he frequently masturbated to soothe the sexual need. Usually to porn magazines whose pages he tore up to stick them in his journal. A fulfilling sexual life was a dream, far away from his reach. He could only see it but never take part in it, as it was with everything in his life. An eternal spectator, never a protagonist. Thinking of her, lusting after her... And he wasn't able to even mutter a fucking word. He cursed the emptiness roaming during all his life. Because he had nothing to offer her except desire. His inexperience was never a problem, given his surrender to embrace a life of solitude. Until now. Her arrival to his life made him remember how much of a man he was. And her kindness just fanned the fire within him.

Harleen squeezed his hand a little more, noting his unsettled nerve. Arthur sighed, out of the gloomy, bleak storm that creeped out as a dark mist in his mind. But her face shines as a small light of hope. Her eyes promised so many good things that he couldn't bring himself to believe.

"What's troubling you, Mr. Fleck?" her smile was accomplice, as if she knew what was lurking into the labyrinth of his mind, but wanting to hear it from his mouth.

"I just... I was thinking about...", Harleen encouraged him to tell her. He inhaled deeply, lighting a cigarette to cope with the newfound stress. Once again, his everlasting negative thoughts clouded the moment. The vocal cords were unresponsive. His hand broke contact with hers to hold his forehead, looking for the right words to speak. His knees bounced. Harleen leaned in, waiting.

"Artie?"

The tender pronunciation of the diminutive form of his name turned his gaze to her.

"I think I prefer to tell you... In private".

Harleen nodded. The response sounded too dark. And she knew that if Arthur talked like that, it was something serious. They left the donut shop, walking towards the subway. It was almost empty and dark. Just a few people were on it. The couple sit down, with Harleen tangling the arm around his to tilt her head on his shoulder. Arthur kept his eyes on the window, trying to figure out how the fuck he'd tell her about it.

As they reached the last stop, they left the subway station to step up the stairs and then Arthur reached a dirty, dark public restroom surrounded on the outside of a fence. Both stopped for a moment before the gnawed door. Harleen looked up to the party clown's dark features. He pronounced no words.

"Arthur?"

"There's something I need to tell you", his murmur comes shy, cast down.

"What is it?"

He stepped away from her. His hands clasp his mouth, disapproving his thoughts. He shook his head, eyes shut. Circling his own personal space, lightheaded. Harleen came closer to him.

"Is it bad?"

Arthur glared at her, guilty.

"I mean... I don't know how to tell you. I just hope you don't laugh at me".

"Why would I do that?".

Arthur half opened his eyes.

"I want...", It took a long, deep inhalation to pronounce the first part. He coughed, to clear his throat seconds later, "I need to tell you... That I really like you... And--", he silenced his words, trying to put them correctly in his mind.

"And?"

"See" he sighed, "I've..."

Harleen widened her eyes in anticipation.

"I've been thinking about you a lot... and I would be lying if I tell you I don't want something else".

"What is 'something else'?" Harleen whispered.

Arthur processed the question. And then answered:

"It's just..." He brushed the small beads of sweat on his forehead with the palm of his hand, "I love the way you touch me, Harleen" Arthur continued, "and I simply can't get enough of it".

"Because we both need it, Arthur. I love just as much as you do. That makes it so satisfying", he chuckled, humbled. Harleen expected more of him.

"That's not all", he gazed not to her. This was the one moment that could end it all or strengthen this precious bond of theirs.

"Arthur" she called him, "don't be afraid. Please tell me".

"I want to sleep with you", Arthur finally confessed, gazing at her. His eyes confirmed the statement. He blinked slowly, wanting her to see the animalistic yearn on them.

Harleen stared at him, shocked of how much he trusted her to confess something so intimate. His breathe had shortened. His green eyes glowed like emeralds, embellished even more with his pupils dilated. The blonde invited him inside the bathroom so they could keep baring their souls. Arthur inspected the place to make sure it was completely safe to stay there. Harleen locked the door once they knew it was unoccupied.

"I don't want to beg for love" Arthur said, his voice raspy, "but I don't want to lie to you. I want to know if you feel the same" Arthur spoke in a very low voice. Harleen looked at him, infatuated before this new dark vibe from him. He looked like a totally different person. Her fingers slid into his curls.

"I knew it already, Arthur."

"And why doesn't it bother you?"

"Because I can understand why you want it".

Arthur turned to her. Never in his life he felt more expecting. Harleen explained, in very simple terms, that she found his attachment understandable: Arthur had been deprived of love during all his life and this new bond made him feel important. From becoming visible and cared for to reaffirm his manhood through sexual desire. Arthur heard every word carefully, and it made sense. Everything made fucking sense. It was through sexual intercourse that men felt loved.

Love.

It was always about love, at the end of all.

Harleen returned the cigarette to him.

"Don't blame yourself. You're a human, after all. Sex is the most pleasant of human activities, so don't feel bad for enjoying it".

"It's not that I don't enjoy it. I don't feel ready to do it, despite of how much I want it".

Harleen frowned, and her silence just made Arthur confess one of his most (if not the most) shameful secrets. Only now she knew the extent of her impact in his life. She knew a lot about him, including the seven medications he was in, but this? She had been aware of the way he looked at her, but hearing him actually admitting it out loud made her shudder. Her arms locked around his shoulders to pull Arthur to a kiss in the cheek.

"It's not a race or a competition. You just feel and act according to your instincts. Also, I'd be lying too if I said I don't want anything else" Arthur sank his eyes into Harleen's, "quite frankly, we were close to have sex the night we first talked if it wasn't because I was too tired to do so, but now, if you don't feel ready to do it, I won't pressure you to do anything".

"Starting a friendship in that way? I like it" he hummed, mischievous.

"We are not friends... Because... Friends are not supposed to touch each other. That's what lovers do. But... We aren't lovers, yet" Harleen whispered.

"Then what are we?" Arthur asked.

"We are, Arthur. We simply are" this time her kiss directed to his mouth. _________________________________________

Arthur changed his damp clothes to avoid the cold. The bedroom TV was turned on as well as the hall lights. The usual. He prepared the dinner for his mother, bathing her and making sure she'd go to bed. The conversation was the same. Thomas fucking Wayne and the fucking letters. Arthur had no interest on losing energy on nonsense, so he only nodded. He took a shower and shaved the growing beard and wore his grey sweatpants. A few observations written in the pages of the journal about his day at Haha's and Arthur felt his routine was finished, therefore he could count down to the moment when Harleen was back at home from work. His eyes darted at the clock. 1:14 am. Less than two hours for her return. He felt confident enough to go to her apartment and stay all night with her. He smoke five cigarettes in the meantime, walking over the house. Turning the TV on so time wouldn't pass so long. He sat at the couch, waiting for an old rerun of Murray Franklin's Show. An actor was to be interviewed but he couldn't focus entirely on it. He laid down. His mind pictured her beside him. However, as much as he cherished all the physical and emotional affection from her, it wasn't enough anymore. It was hard to accept it but that's just the way it was. As the show ended, an old movie ran. Arthur turned the device off. The clock sets the time: 2:24 am. Less than hour. He got up, turning the lights off, hoodie in hand and determination in his mind. Locking the door, Arthur left. He walked across the halls, stepping down to the destination: 7H. The door was unlocked, much to his surprise. The loner felt truly in home. If only she was in there for him to shower her in his affection. But he then realized the neon lights were on. His heart skipped a beat. The air seemed... Different. He stood as quiet as possible to see what was going on. The rain slightly broke the total silence that ruled the place. Arthur reached the living and then, only then, he saw her.

Harleen was placidly sleeping on the couch, wearing a two part, peach coloured pajamas. Her mane was a mess of white, blue and pink strands that fell over her face. Her head rested on a pillow and her pose revealed how comfy her sleep was. Kneeling beside the couch, Arthur leaned over her face, his fingers set aside the colourful mane to obtain the beautiful vision of her peaceful facial expression. His thumb glided over her lips, which he soon joined with his. It was slow, intimate kiss, full of subtle hunger.

Seconds later, her hands cupped his face to make the caress steadier, humming playfully. Arthur broke the kiss to eye her. Half sleep, Harleen smiled at him.

"Hey" he called, secretive.

"Good night, Mr. Fleck", she muttered, voice pasty, "another insomnia night?" but he shook the head.

"I thought you weren't here. I couldn't help it", he muttered.

“Never said I mind. Bar closed earlier and here I am”.

“Really? Why?”

“The riots, Arthur. Boss preferred to send us home before any damage could be done by the protesters”.

Arthur made room for himself in the cozy, fluffy long couch. Asking if she was okay, Harleen just replied she took a taxi to make home safely. Arthur sighed, relieved. The blonde smiled at him but didn’t move any further. He noticed that, blaming for being so inconsiderate. Getting into her apartment and disturbing her rest like that? What a awful friend (lover) he was! Recoiling with guilt and diving again in the brooding mood so typical on him, he distanced from his love. She fell asleep once more. Arthur kept his gaze on her, tracing invisible touches in her curves. She was so close yet so far. He wanted to be a part of her, to be with her.

Inside of her.

The calloused fingers held his face to wash away the shame. The nerves were too much to take. The laugh gestated in a noise initially deaf to hear from afar to a thunderous fit. Harleen jolted at the sudden outburst. Arthur couldn’t feel worse. The expression on his face was so desperate for silence that the blonde immediately went after him when he shrugged, attempting in vain to drown the horrible noise that made his vocal cords bleed. Harleen dissuaded Arthur of any idea of escape just to hold him. The mentally ill loner sank his face into her neck. The embrace didn’t stop the scandalous explosion to keep shattering the quietness of the place, sensing Harleen squeezed his faint figure, seemingly trying to put every piece of his broken yet beautiful soul to help to soothe the pain.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry—“

Her voice hushed his apologize. As the din disappeared into nothingness, both returned to the living room on the couch but Arthur took a step back from her.

“Why?”

Puzzled, Harleen frowns. She gave him space to recover.

“Why what?”

“Why me?”, Arthur regained strength to ask her, staring at her for a long period of time, “of all men you can have, why me?”

For the first time, Harleen seemed upset.

“If you think I do this out of pity, you are very, very wrong” the fire in her eyes was fascinating.

“Then why?”

Harleen processed the question while Arthur desperately awaited the reason to be verbalised.

“Please”.

She gulped.

“Because you’re a good man, Arthur”.

The response was too simple to be believable, though it was grateful to hear a compliment from her. Desiring more, his stare pierced her soul, to let her take the hint. Imprisoned under the green spell of his, Harleen proceeded to continue:

“I mean- you are always trying to make people laugh, yet people don’t see you and you still continue. You love what you do, you have been kind to me, you care about your mother putting your well-being aside. Don’t you think that is worth enough?”

Arthur shut his eyes, his head to the left, lighting a cigarette while the bouncing knee betrayed his feeling of unsettlement. Harleen noticed it. Wind took words away. Actions prevailed in time.

Time! That’s precisely what he needed. Both battled uneasiness in their own, unique way. While Harleen on her own end of the couch thought on a way to help him, Arthur tried to give order to his convulsed mind. He constantly touched his forehead and chest but never dared to eye her, terrified that she would vanish. The damn cigarette placed again on his lips. The muteness grew so uncomfortable the loner returned to glare at the blonde. She slowly approached to him, searching in his face his approval to get closer. Afraid to disturb his personal space in the same way someone would be cautious when getting closer to a wild animal. Arthur gasped, his blood boiling in what seemed the exact moment that would define his life. Harleen crawled to him, reaching his shoulders to concrete her goal: sit in the space between his legs.

If Arthur believed that just a hug put him on fire, this new contact aroused him to the point of insanity. The blonde crowned the physical bond placing her head in the crook of his neck. The temptation to take her and possess her now was insufferable but he found the will to not give in into the impulsive reaction. How? He’d never know. His heart rate was so violent, so overwhelming that the threat of a heart attack was becoming more real. Harleen placed her hand on his chest, like caressing his damaged heart like a mother would do with an scared child. His lungs finally caught a calmer rhythm as minutes went by. Arthur craved new touches, new discoveries, yet he wanted to remain like this forever. He savoured the closeness of their bodies… but it wasn’t enough. Harleen surely knew it by the moment Arthur stopped smoking.

And whenever Arthur Fleck stopped smoking, it meant something serious got his attention.

As the last fire on the cigarette died on the ashtray, Arthur turned his focus completely on her. He’d return her the favour, since she invaded his personal space so shamelessly. Harleen distanced a bit from him to allow the hoodie to come off. She approved the sight with a wide smirk: despite what people could say about his figure, Arthur was not as thin as his outfit revealed. His bare upper body had a plenty of muscle in the biceps. She traced a finger across the aforementioned part to touch his jawline now, going down his neck and collarbone. Next, a nuzzle against his face to continue the intimate bond, brushing her lips with his, without kissing him. However there was no further reaction from him except for a serene look on his face at the caresses. As the touch came to an end, she kissed his mouth repeatedly, her lips curved into a smile. The gesture motivated his instinct to get the better of him. He rose his dark, thick eyebrow to let her know how much of an accomplice he turned out to be, like a warning of what he had planned for her.

It was almost a ritual. Whenever a situation turned out to be too unfamiliar or too good, his hands would act as the link to confirm his psyche wasn't playing tricks with him. But this wasn't only a situation. This was a person who unchained a situation. And how he thanked every second of it. It seemed a spark of happiness enlightened his life, for once. Probably because even fate believed that no human being should be so miserable. He needed a constant reaction from her to keep convincing himself this wasn’t a dream. To increase the enjoyment of his hands touching her, Arthur executed a move directed to her chest, gliding his hands over her breasts, covered by the thin fabric of the sleeveless shirt. Harleen gasped, eyeing the curious hands as they roamed upon that delicate part of her. Arthur was fascinated, as his grin evidently brought out.

Since he had understanding about sex, Arthur craved a woman’s touch. It began as wet dreams, continuing with the subsequent discover of porn, a source he always went to in order to provide himself a little satisfaction. He remembered the particularly unhappy time of highschool, where bullying and harsh looks were a routine. The laughing fits during class, boys from all ages mocking at him during recess. But lunchtime was the worst part. If he wasn’t beaten up, his food paid the price. Starving and tired, Arthur was relieved in part by dropping school. He wouldn’t have to deal with the brutality of his classmates anymore. Girls usually avoided him, scared by his weak appearance. He never asked a girl for a date, afraid to be taken as a pervert. He just repressed any sexual need, feeling like a depraved creep for being curious about female body.

The mental drift continued for a couple of minutes when he noticed that Harleen wasn’t too quiet now, her shortened breath revealing an intense joy at his touch. As it happened always in a moment of adrenaline, through his arms an herculean strength ran so intensely that made her sit on his lap with no problem. The most exciting part of this new bold position was that he could face his lover, aiming his interest to her neck, covering it with slow, paused kisses. Harleen supports on his shoulders, delighted at his intimate exploration. Her shortened breath became a heavy panting while the latter morphed into a loud moan. Arthur immediately looked up to the blonde, her mane tickling his face. Did he caused such wonderful reaction? Him? Arthur Fleck, the perpetual loser, the unfunny clown, the embodiment of what a man should never be?

Suddenly, the grip loosened. Arthur felt he couldn’t concentrate anymore on Harleen in the same way. A sensation similar to fainting snatched away the energy on his arms. A surge of boiling blood flowed down his groin.

Arthur knew what this meant and her thighs straddling his hips, exactly where his searing intimacy reacted to such delectable recreation.

This encouraged him to let his wildest side come out. The pale hands lifted the shirt to the level of her neck, obtaining her bare chest to devour while getting into the inner part of the shirt, leaving the barrier between skin and fabric behind his back. Harleen reared up before the fulminant demonstration of lust, screaming while clawing at his shoulders. She felt his mouth, eager and famished, assiduously paying dedication to her soft sinuosities. The position enabled her to coddle him as well.

Because he fucking deserved it.

Her fingers stirred the dark curls under the cloth, begging for more. When Arthur felt the arousal was too much to keep building it up to simple caresses, he threw the shirt aside to obtain her upper nude body to admire. His eyes widened as the glimpse was even more beautiful in reality than in his fantasies. He hummed, approving the sight, too anxious to take her and yet so insecure if she’d be satisfied.

The blonde tugged into his belt, making clear her desire to pursue a deeper insight of their relationship. Her body performed a subtle movement to make him lay down on his back. As Arthur got rid of his clothes, so she did. Once she reached her own full nudity, he covered his mouth, amazed. Forget the models in his journal. Harleen had no comparison. And she probably knew it.

“Do you like what you see, mister Fleck?” she purred, seductive. He panted, regaining the oxygen to answer.

“Yes” was all he answered. Arthur could hardly speak at this point. His eyes said everything, anyway. The tease was a gift before the beloved blonde climbed atop him. Arthur helped her, grabbing her by the hips he longed so much to trace his fingers on.

Harleen leaned over his face to grant it a last kiss, enjoying this final step preceding to the loss of individuality.

She seemed so unreal, even when her full weight upon him proved wrong. And he knew exactly what to do to prove his psyche otherwise.

The last trace of doubt disappeared completely as his own sex found itself inside of her at last. The insertion was very slow, no rushes, so both lovers could memorize every sensation. The pressure around his hardened length turned out to be a pleasure beyond the thinkable, causing a shuddering, fastened breath to crumple his lungs. He arched his back, a loud, pleasurable moan escaping his mouth. As he got used to the warm welcome she gave him, his hands held her hips to proceed. Harleen lolled her head back, moaning softly, rejoicing at his presence inside of her delicate womanhood. Stillness held their bodies together as they enjoyed the sensation brought by the union.

Arthur recovered from the initial shock before the long desired loss of his hated celibacy started to take place. Harleen, naked much to the delight of his eyes, had her white, porcelain skin beautifully shaded by the pink and blue dim neon lights. Arthur smirked at her, admiring her body with his hands, not to convince himself that he was not hallucinating but to make sure to tell her how much he had desired to do this.

Just then Harleen did her magic.

“Let me show you that you’re not invisible”.

The rhythm worked in a slow pace. The blonde’s masterful moves made him moan and groan loudly as she straddled his hips. Everything he imagined with her appalled in comparison to this. Harleen, so provocative and prodigious, was so delicate in this erotic surrender. Like almost floating in the air. Arthur wondered how much it could take until reaching the peak of the carnal pleasure. But the obnoxious thud that beat his brain even in this moment found itself defeated by this lovely and pleasurable novelty, eventually. Watching Harleen on top of him was an irresistible landscape and Arthur couldn’t be more grateful for it even if he tried.

And her moans didn’t help either. Harleen was too lost in the moment to even talk to him, restricting her vocal expressions of pleasure just to plead for more.

Arthur plunged in this novelty to feel like a man for the first time in his life. He chuckled, joyful. His concentration centered exclusively on her. Harleen was a living mess of ecstasy, away from reality. He couldn’t love her more, specially when she called his name. The grip on her hips became tighter, as the warm space that surrounded his arousal narrowed. Her moans arose to louder screams. Now that was something he wanted to hear, sliding his fingers up to her waist to her chest.

The sense of control began to disappear eventually.

The instigation inspired a new move from Arthur, who got up to enclose her waist to absorb her essence. Fastening the moves, the blonde threw her arms to his neck, increasing the union as much as they were able. Their screams echoed through the apartment, announcing the proximity of the climax.

The final frenzy took ahold of the lovers. It hit Harleen first, as the convulsion whipped her insides, her figure trembling.

Arthur was convinced his soul was living his body at the time of his climax. While Harleen allowed him to flood her with his seed, he held her hips to keep inside her the longest time possible. The passionate, fulfilling embrace that served as the conclusion to the act recomposed their sense of reality. Once the physical bond was broken, the lovers laid back in the couch. Arthur still had a hard time recovering from his first sexual experience. His lungs finally eased down as Harleen reassuringly talked to him. Arthur opened his eyes, to smile to her.

“That…” he stuttered, breathless, “that… was… fucking sensational”.

Harleen supported her head in her hand.

“Couldn’t agree more”.

Arthur smiled and didn’t resist the temptation to sink into her arms, awaiting for sleep to come. He gave himself in completely, handing his vulnerability to her. Harleen sighed, palming his back. Arthur recoiled in pain and she didn’t hesitate to apologize.

“What’s this?” Harleen was going to get up to check him out but he prevented it, shaking his head. Apparently it didn’t have too much importance for him.

“I want this” his whisper sounded legitimately grateful. He took her hands to kiss them dearly, “I want this”.

She nodded and then changed her position so Arthur could place himself upon her. Her open arms received his fragile, starving shape to grant it comfort, like remind him of how much of a man he could be. The loner muttered something, but Harleen was already sleeping. Arthur didn’t move at all, silently enjoying her chest moving up and down. He planted a kiss above her right breast and closed his eyes.

The rain intensified. And Arthur fell asleep in a state of complete inner peace for the first time in his life as the pink lights dissipated into black as his eyes slowly closed.

It was the most beautiful darkness he’d ever been in.

#joker #joker movie #joker film #joaquin phoenix joker #joker 2019 #joker arthur fleck #arthur fleck imagine #arthur x harley #arthur fleck #harley quinn #joker x harley #harleen quinzel #dc comics #dc edit #jokeredit #arthur x reader

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a-vintage-snake · 5 years ago

Text

Hell To Your Doorstep

Pairing(s): Romantic Royality

First chapter - Previous chapter - Next chapter

Warnings: Abusive parenting, sickness, implied torture Characters: Roman Sanders, Patton Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Deceit Sanders, Remus Sanders,

Summary: Roman celebrates his birthday, but an unexpected guest crashes the party.

Word Count: 11304

People who were asked to be tagged: @avocados26, @fandoms-will-collide @nottoonormalme, @bihighandgivinghighfives, @atticusfinchthelegend

If you want to be removed or added to the taglist, just ask!

Read on AO3

Snow turned into rain. The rain slowly mellowed out into sunlight. The explosion stopped being the talk of the day, and eventually no one mentioned it anymore. Days turned longer and softer. Spring came bearing mild weather and the scent of flowers drifting in the castle’s halls. Before Roman knew it, May came around and his parents started planning for his birthday in June. He was pulled along in meetings over dinner arrangements, musicians and guest lists. Dimly he watched as his mother ordered servants around in the foyer, as they ran around with decorations, tablecloths and giant vases with flowers.

“No no no, you’re arranging it all wrong!” Queen Nadia let out a long-suffering sigh. “Do it all over, and this time try listening to what I say? Everything has to be perfect!”

Roman inspected the decorative tapestries that the servants had hung up, which illustrated several of Roman’s victories over the years.

“I think they look fine, mother.” He muttered.

“Once the interior decorating is complete, we will move on to the gardens,” His mother said. “If the weather allows for it, a garden party would surely be grand! It is all the rage these days.”

“It is?” Roman sighed. “I didn’t know that.”

“Now dear,” His mother turned to him. “What colour do you think the table runners should be?” She gestured to a lackey who held two colours of cloth examples, one red and one a pale cream.

“Does that matter?” Roman asked, exasperated.

“Of course it does! We have to make a good impression on our guests, after all!” His mother shook her head, like Roman was a child who she caught making an obvious spelling mistake. “Honestly Roman, you should know this by now. A royal’s reputation-”

“A royal’s reputation is the most important thing they have, I know, I know...” Roman finished emptily. Queen Nadia’s eyes narrowed.

“Don’t use that tone on me, son.” His mother whispered so only Roman would hear. “We are doing this for you, try to be a bit more happy about it.”

Doing this for him, huh? Then why were they more concerned about what the guests would think rather than what he wanted? Roman desperately wanted to say, but he swallowed it. “I just think that our neighbouring kingdoms won’t break our alliances over a wrong coloured table runner!” He said instead.

“That just goes to show how much you still have to learn.” His mother said icily. She looked away with a disappointed sigh. “Maybe we shouldn’t celebrate your birthday then, if my son is going to be so ungrateful for what we try to do for him.”

“Fine by me! I don’t want to celebrate it anyway!” Roman finally snapped loudly.

Queen Nadia froze, and so did several servants in earshot. His mother turned back to him.

“Roman, sweetie,” His mother said loud and clear for everyone to hear; her voice had taken on a honey sweet tone of concern. “Why ever wouldn’t you want to celebrate your birthday?”

“Because it’s not just my birthday, mother!” Roman yelled.

You could hear a pin drop in the silence that fell. All heads turned to stare at the shaking prince and the queen, the latter holding a hand to her chest in shock. Roman breathed heavily through his nose and ignored his rising dread. Instead he tried to keep a tight hold on to the weak flame of defiance in his chest.

“Why would I want to party,” Roman said, and he hated it, hated it, that his voice was trembling. “When my brother could be- could be- lost, or hurt-!” Or dead his mind supplied, but he didn’t dare to utter that. “He’s… He’s been gone for almost a year now, and you are here worrying about table runners and flower arrangements while he’s still out there somewhere-”

“Roman-”

“And we’re doing nothing-!!”

“ROMAN!”

As quick as the defiant flame had ignited, panic doused the fire like a flood of cold water. His mother rarely raised her voice, but Roman had learned from years of experience that whenever she did…

“So you accuse me of not caring about my own son?” Queen Nadia said coldly. Roman sputtered.

“That’s not what I-” He tried.

“Don’t interrupt me! You stand there spouting all those accusations, when your father and I are worried sick every day, and sent knights to look for Remus, all the while you have done nothing to look for your brother!”

“What? But you and father said-!”

“Of course!” His mother let out a cold laugh. “That’s very easy for you, isn’t it Roman? To let your poor parents take care of everything you don’t wish to do!” “That’s not true!”

“Why is it that you don’t want this party, which we throw partly in Remus’ honour might I add,” Queen Nadia crossed her arms. “Is it truly because you are worried about him? Or are you afraid that not all the attention will go to you, selfish boy?”

Roman felt like the ground fell away beneath his feet. His stomach churned painfully and his head started spinning. How could his mother say that? No one really believed that, did they? They couldn’t!

One glance around the halls however, and Roman was met with shaking heads and disapproving stares. Were they disapproving of him? Did they really think…?

Oh god, was he being selfish?

Roman clenched his fists tightly. His eyes started watering and he swallowed a good few times to keep it from showing.

Show no weakness; show no flaws.

“Well? Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?” His mother said. Roman wanted to say a lot of things. But he was certain that if he opened his mouth the tears would start flooding, so he just shook his head. His mother nodded.

“That’s what I thought. Now son, if it isn’t too much trouble for you, which colour of table runner would you pick for you and your brother’s party?”

Roman wanted to yell that Remus wouldn’t be there, how could he know what his brother would have liked? No wait, he actually probably did know; Remus would say they were both boring and they should use dead raccoons instead or something along that line.

But he didn’t. Instead Roman felt himself slip back into his perfect prince image as he straightened himself and forced his tears down.

“I like the red.” Roman said dully.

“Red? Really?” His mother scoffed. “No, the cream one is much more appropriate. We’ll use that instead.”

Roman fought back the urge to scream, and instead smiled and nodded. His mother turned to the next topic, while Roman’s gaze wandered to the tapestries. His own image smiled down on him, charming and brave and gallant, while he posed with one foot on the monster he had slain. A hero. A true prince. Roman would give anything to be like that.

The young prince didn’t notice the pitying glances the servants threw him.

The fourth of June started with a beautiful, crisp morning. The skies were clear and it was wind still, the promise of a warm and marvellous day ahead.

Roman had barely slept the night before. He stared at the ceiling where the sunrise gradually crept over and brightened his room by the second. Roman fiercely wished he could just stay in bed and let the day pass by without notice.

His birthday wish unfortunately didn’t come true, for sooner than he liked his servants bustled in to help him prep for the day. He let it all wash over him with a blank face. This was the first time his birthday didn’t elicit feelings of joy, but instead only a mournful indifference.

Hours passed by in a flurry of last minute preparations. Well-meaning birthday wishes were met with a subtle nod and a strained smile. Roman couldn’t bring up more. When at last the time came to welcome and greet the first guests, Roman went to the throne room adorned in his party best attire, which he loathed. Sure, the ivory jacket was gorgeous, but also stiff as a board and the golden details scratched at his neck and wrists. The crown on his head was uncomfortably heavy, yet he didn’t utter a word of discomfort. Instead he bowed his head and stood his place besides his parents, waiting for the first people to sweep in.

His mother took him in, head to toe, scrutinizing for any flaw, before she finally lifted his chin up with her finger.

“Head high and smile, my dear,” She said coolly. “You are a prince. Make sure the guests see that.”

He nodded. “Yes mother.” He said emptily. When the doors finally opened, Roman straightened his shoulders and smiled.

His birthday party was in full swing, and Roman had to hand it to his parents; the party looked lovely. After the long, long process of greeting the guests had finally finished (which had only slightly improved when Patton had come running in and threw himself into Roman’s embrace) the sun was already setting, turning the sky in a colourful painting of shades of pink, orange and red. The gardens were transformed into a soft-hazed dream. A big dance floor had been made in the middle, the orchestra already playing lilting melodies that flew away in the sky. If you grew tired of the dancing, lounging areas with soft couches and fluffy pillows beckoned you to rest your feet. Hundreds of cheerfully coloured lanterns were strung among the trees and hedges like chains of gemstones, waving gently in the soft evening breeze that carried the scent of roses and lilies. Bonfires were scattered among the garden, where servants prepared candied almonds and roasted chestnuts for any hungry guest. Lackeys walked around with serving trays with sparkling drinks in crystal glasses.

It was beautiful. Roman appreciated every bit of hard work that had gone into it, yet couldn’t care less for any of it even if he tried.

The sky went from pink and dark blue to a soft velvety black, dotted with stars and a waxing moon. For Roman the evening slowly became a repeating blur.

Chat politely with a guest.

Laugh politely at a joke he didn’t get.

Dance with someone.

Hide from Tristan, who insisted that they danced at least once together.

“I mean, really Roman,” Tristan said with a toss of his blond hair. “We will make the most handsome couple on the dance floor! It’s a shame you’re not marrying me! We could also very well be the most handsome kings there ever were…”

“That’s nice Tristan,” Roman somehow managed to say without gagging. “But I do believe I hear my fiancé calling! Talktoyoulaterbye!”

Use Patton as an excuse not to dance with Tristan.

Dance or chat with Patton, easily the best parts of the evening.

Get pulled away from his fiancé to meet some new court member.

Laugh politely at a joke.

Dance again, this time with an older lady who wouldn’t stop pinching his bottom.

Decline a next dance and run away.

No, not that way, Tristan is there too!

Chat politely with some more guests.

Dance with someone.

Get rescued by Patton.

Get pulled away from Patton.

Chat with more guests.

Laugh politely at a joke. (That one didn’t even make sense!)

Thank goodness, there’s Patton again.

Manage to eat some snacks.

Oh boy, is it Hide From Tristan Hours again already?

“I can’t keep doing this!” Roman hissed, hunching down behind a hedge.

“He is quite persistent, isn’t he?” Patton said, hunching alongside him. He smiled brightly at a couple that walked by and were looking at them with raised eyebrows. “Don’t worry! I just lost my ring!” He said as a way of explaining, before turning back to Roman. “Can’t you dance just once with him? He is your friend after all!”

“Not by choice, I assure you.” Roman grumbled as he heard Tristan drawl out his name again.

“He can’t be that bad, can he?”

“At first I thought he was fine! But Pat, last time we hung out he insisted that you can’t fall in love with both men and women. That people who do are just selfish and need to pick a side!”

“Oh! Well that’s not very nice!” “That’s not all. He also says that if peasants are starving, it’s their own fault for being lazy!”

“What a dumb-dumb!”

“He made fun of your pudge, Patton!” Roman stressed. “Your beautiful, beautiful pudge!”

“The very nerve! Body shaming is a very harmful thing to do!” Patton huffed as he put his hands on his sides. “That won’t do! But don’t worry, I know just what to do!”

“What?” Roman asked.

“I will give him a stern talking to! That will teach him!”

“Oh… OH. Oh, please do!” Roman enthused. A stern talking to from Patton was the equivalent of getting barked at by a very small, adorable dog. You can’t do anything about it without feeling extremely guilty. That would be perfect.

“I will!” Patton nodded. “In the meantime, why don’t you go visit our… hidden friend? He might be feeling lonely right about now! And you look like you need a break!”

“Good idea,” Roman said. “You sure you can handle Tristan by yourself?”

“Absolutely! Now go go go go go!” Patton urgently waved him away as they heard Tristan’s voice growing closer. Roman hurried away, still hunched behind the hedge. When he deemed himself far away enough, he straightened and looked behind him to see Patton raised to his full length (which to be fair wasn’t much), waving his finger in Tristan’s face. Tristan looked mighty awkward. Roman grinned. Good.

Somehow Roman made it to the castle without being interrupted by too many people. The garden doors of the castle were wide open, leading to the foyer where multiple tables were filled to the brim with the most delicious foods and delicacies. Savoury pastries full with steamed vegetables and tender meats, hearty cream soups, stuffed heads of wild boars and swans were placed beside marzipan trees decorated with glaced apples and dragons made entirely from cake and confectionery. All of it displayed on lovely cream table runners, of course.

Roman walked up to the table in the far right corner. He eyed the pastries and beautifully carved cakes like he was trying to choose which one to take, while he discretely knocked on the table three times. He held his breath and waited. After a few seconds three cautious knocks answered his.

Roman checked his surroundings, once, twice, before he ducked out of sight and hastily crawled underneath the table.

“My goodness, if I have to smile for five more minutes I think my face will be stuck forever!” Roman grumbled.

“Oh no, smiling. What a nightmare!” His companion in hiding said. Roman gave Virgil a playful glare as he settled the tablecloth back so no one would see them.

“Easy for you to say, Gloom-and-Doom,” Roman said. “You don’t have to deal with the court’s continuous chit-chatting about the latest fashion disaster of yet another random lord, lady or non-binary royalty I never heard of!”

“Fair enough,” Virgil shrugged. He leaned against one of the table legs, a small plate filled with food on his lap. Romeo the spider had chosen the court sorcerer’s head as his seat for the evening. Occasionally Virgil handed him some small bite sized snacks that the spider eagerly gobbled up.

“So how is our Star-Crossed Geek doing?” Roman asked.

“Logan? I think he’s having a great time. The sky is clear and the stars are very visible. He’s probably staring into his telescope and star mapping as we speak.”

“Well at least someone is having fun then…” Roman said. He had been bummed out when he realized Logan couldn’t come to his birthday party. Logan was neither royalty nor an important member of the court staff like Virgil, nor was he rich enough to warrant an invitation. He had considered asking his parents to invite him anyway, but had thought better of it.

At least one of his friends was here… Or there in spirit, anyway. When he asked Virgil why he barely saw him at any of his parent’s parties, he had nearly choked laughing when Virgil revealed the secret of his mysterious absences.

“I can’t believe this is where you sit every party my parents throw…” Roman said as he shook his head.

“Hey, you said it yourself,” Virgil said as he fed Romeo some pie crumbs. “Surviving the court is a horror-show all on it’s own. Seriously, if I get one more request for a love potion I’m going to flip. My. Lid.”

“I can imagine,” Roman said, lowering his voice when people came to the table to grab some food. “At least you can disappear without consequence. I only have about twenty minutes before they start missing me!”

“Perks of being the court sorcerer. Everyone expects me to mysteriously vanish at least once in the evening.”

“Ah yes. The puzzling disappearance of Virgil Storm! Last seen darkly muttering to himself about taking his vengeance on the traitorous tablecloth!”

“The tablecloth had it coming and you know it.”

The two friends snickered quietly, and Roman felt himself relax as he crossed his legs underneath him. He was about to ask something when more people approached the table.

“Colonel!” A woman said. “I thought you would have guard duty, old sport!”

“The general insisted on overseeing the security herself, as per standard,” Another man replied, who Roman indeed recognized as colonel Bentley. “Honestly, that woman will work herself to death at one point!”

“Well, we’re glad to have you here!” A man playfully joined. “The general is just no fun!”

“You flatter me, baron! It is quite an excellent party isn’t it!”

“Quite right you are! Although the service is abominable! I simply asked for a glass of pink champagne, and the server had the nerve to tell me such a thing doesn’t exist! Well I said to her-!”

The three kept babbling like excited hens in a henhouse. Virgil rolled his eyes and softly but exaggeratedly sighed. Roman suppressed a laugh.

“See what I have to deal with?” Roman whispered.

“You are a trooper princey…” Virgil said.

“I know,” Roman said before imitating the posh accent. “Quite right you are!” Now Virgil snorted.

“Please promise me you’ll never become like that.”

“Aw geez, old sport! Can’t promise you that!” Roman continued in the same haughty voice. Virgil muffled his laughter behind his hand. Roman nearly choked holding back his chuckles.

“Bad service, a son who likes adventuring more than the state of affair-” The baroness continued above the table in a snooty voice, to both Roman and Virgil’s hilarity.

“-And their other son disappears! Our monarchs have it rough!”

Roman stiffened, laughter dying in his throat.

“They had a search party issued last summer, right? Have any of the knights returned since then?”

“None,” The colonel answered. “And not a peep from our missing prince either!”

“As if anyone was expecting otherwise!” The baron huffed. “I mean really, a search party for that deadbeat? Can’t our king and queen put our resources into more pressing matters?”

Virgil sucked in a breath. He carefully watched Roman, whose face slowly turned thunderous.

“Baron! Don’t let our monarchy hear that!”

“I’m just saying!”

“Actually…” The baroness said thoughtfully. “I agree with my husband. Perhaps it’s even for the better that he disappeared, you know? There was always something… Dark about that boy. Something truly sinister, even when he was a child. Just look at what he did to the poor viscount Tristan! I’m shocked our king and queen tolerated him for as long as they have! Why, if that had been my son, I wouldn’t know what to do with myself!”

“Exactly! Good riddance I would say!” The baron laughed.

“Oh baron,” The colonel laughed. “You are so bad! Can’t say I don’t agree, though!”

Beneath the table Virgil had to grab onto Roman before he would rise out from underneath the table like a creature from hell with a vengeance.

“Roman, no! Bad idea!” Virgil urgently hissed.

“Let me go! Didn’t you hear what they said??” Roman loudly whispered back as the laughing trio moved away from the table. “The audacity! How could they-!”

“Yes, they’re assholes, but you can’t deck them in the middle of your own birthday party!”

“It’s my birthday, I do as I bloody wish-!”

“You won’t!” Virgil forced Roman to look at him. “This will only get you into trouble, trust me!”

“But… But…” Roman stopped struggling, but the fight didn’t leave him. “How can I go back out there and pleasantly chitchat with the people who said such filth behind my back??”

“Easy,” Virgil finally let him go. “You’re going to smile at them, while knowing in your heart that the minute you become king you can easily strip them off their power and make them the laughing stock of the kingdom.” Virgil’s eyes darkened. “As an old… Acquaintance once told to me; ‘Punching someone is great, but nothing beats the sheer satisfaction of watching the hope slowly drain from your enemy’s face as you shred their lives apart, take away everything they hold dear and reduce them to nothing but a shadow of their former self.’ ”

“…Damn,” Roman said after a short minute of stunned silence. He wasn’t sure if he should be scared or impressed. “Remind me to never get on your bad side.”

“I never did see those new potion supplies, princey.” Virgil said with a smirk.

“I’m working on it, dammit!” Roman said, but he bit back a laugh regardless. “Got any other wise life lessons from that old acquaintance of yours?”

Virgil’s expression crumbled slightly. “No,” He said. “No, that’s the only… Useful advice he ever gave me.”

Roman frowned, sensing the unease that had settled over his friend. He wanted to ask about it, but he heard someone approaching the food table.

“- ybody seen our prince? Where is he? We want to-” Roman heard, before the person disappeared in the crowd once more. He let out a tired groan.

“I guess that’s my cue…” He sighed. Virgil smiled in sympathy.

“You got this, Ro.”

“Do I?” Roman muttered darkly as he carefully checked under the tablecloth to see if no one was paying attention. Before he could to crawl back out to the party, he paused and turned to Romeo. The spider had skittered down from Virgil’s head to his knee, and perked to attention when he saw Roman watching.

“Hey,” Roman said as he leaned in to the little critter. “If you ever see the chance to jump on the faces of those jerks… Go for it.”

Romeo huffed up and brought up his front leg to give Roman a small, yet proud salute. Virgil chuckled. “Good luck out there,” he said as he gently scratched the spider with one finger.

“Thank you. I’m going to need it…” Roman quickly got out from underneath the table and stood up. Behind him the tablecloth was yanked back into place. Roman stomped away. He smiled politely at everyone he came across, but he was fuming on the inside.

How dare they- How bloody dare they talk about his brother like that! The sheer insolence! How could they be so mean, so-!

“Oh, look who it is!” Tristan said. Roman looked up, slightly irritated that his painting got interrupted, to see Remus running towards the pond at the other end of the garden. Once he reached said pond, he dropped to his knees and plunged his arms into the water, not even bothering to roll his sleeves up.

“What is he doing?” Emma asked with a half-hearted sneer, lounging with Madison on a garden bench filled with pillows.

“How should I know?” Roman responded, turning back to his painting. “Ugh, he’s ruining my view.”

“Hey, he’s your brother!”

“Don’t remind me that we share genetics, I was just having a good day.” Roman added a splash of colour on his painted trees. It was coming together quite nicely, if he said so himself.

Across the garden a resounding “AHA!” was heard, and Remus victoriously pulled up hands full of something bubbly and shiny.

“…Is that frog spawn?” Tristan said, squinting.

“Oh god, what on earth is he planning to do with that?” Madison said.

“…Perhaps he wants to put them in his aquarium?” Farah piped up softly from her own seat. “You did say he had one, right Roman?”

“Please,” Roman scoffed as he watched Remus run off with his prize. “He probably just wants to grow himself a friend just as disgusting as he is.”

“Although I highly doubt even the frogs would tolerate them!” Tristan joked. Promptly the group burst out laughing, save for Farah who just turned back to her book with a slight frown.

He slowed to a halt as Roman’s own voice echoed back to him from his memories. A heavy weight settled into his stomach. Years of ignoring and ridiculing started to flash through his mind’s eye.

How did they dare? How dare he get angry with people who spoke ill of his brother, when he had been one of many that mercilessly mocked Remus in the past? If Remus hadn’t disappeared, wouldn’t he have joined in on the taunting whole-heartedly?

…He had been horrible. Yes, what Remus had done at his engagement dinner was still incredibly stupid, but Roman had never bothered to even listen to any apology or explanation his brother wanted to offer him. That day Remus had taken off on his horse to go to the mountains they had exchanged more words than they had in months! What had happened to them…?

Roman felt nauseous. The crowd of people around his was suffocating, and even the soft night air felt like a dead weight on his skin. God he needed Patton, and he needed him now. He was probably done chastising Tristan by now, right?

Pushing his way through chattering guests, Roman’s eyes frantically searched for his fiancé’s blond curls and soft blue suit. When he at last spotted him at one of the lounge areas, Roman could weep with relief. Patton was cheerfully chatting with his mother, who just delicately laughed at something Patton had said.

“You’re a doll, my dear!” Roman heard his mother say as he approached. “When you finally marry my son, this castle shall be brightened by your sheer presence!” “Oh shucks, thank you!” Patton gushed. “You’re too kind! I honestly can’t wait to get married!”

“Well, we might start planning for your special day soon… Wouldn’t a summer wedding be delightful?”

“Hey now, don’t start planning my wedding without me!” Roman managed to playfully say when he reached them. Patton turned in his seat to beam up at him.

“Roman!” He chirped. “You came right on time! I was just feeling lonely!”

“Oh, I see,” Queen Nadia smiled. “I guess my company isn’t as desired then!”

“Noooo, I didn’t mean it like that!” Patton laughed as Roman sat next to him. He was quick to snuggle near to Roman. “I just missed my fantastic sweet fiancé who I love very, very, very much!”

“I know, dear, I was merely teasing,” Queen Nadia turned to her son. “And where have you been?”

“Just mingling with the guests, mother!” Roman said, hugging Patton tightly. He instantly felt calmer. “But my fiancé senses were tingling, and I ran here with utter haste!”

“Aaaw, you big old softie! You are so-” Patton looked up at him, and frowned. “Sweetie? Are you okay?”

“Of course!” Roman said with a tight smile.

“Are you sure? You seem tense,” Patton sat up. “You want to go somewhere quiet and talk about it?”

Yes! Yes, he wanted nothing more. But he caught his mother’s eye over Patton’s shoulder. She raised an eyebrow and threw a meaningful glance around. Right. The rest of party expected him to be here.

“I… I’ll be fine for now, Pat,” Roman said.

“You don’t seem fine!”

“Pat, really. I’m good. We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?”

“…Okay,” Patton said. “If you say so. Tomorrow then.”

His mother gave him a content nod, before rising from the couch.

“Well then, I’ll take my leave. I promised the marchioness of Ashworth a dance, and she might be getting impatient. Pray for my toes,” She playfully added. “I hear she still hasn’t quite learned all the correct steps!”

“Hey, she might have practiced hard since the last party!” Patton said. “You never know!”

“Oh how I wish that I had your eternal optimism, Patton.” The queen laughed, before walking to the dance floor, leaving the two lovebirds alone. Or as alone as they could be in the crowded lounging area. His father sat just across from them, talking enthusiastically to a group of nobles flocked around him.

“Really Ro,” Patton said softly as the nobles laughed loudly at some joke his father said. “You sure you don’t want to leave?”

“Positive,” Roman replied, before he pressed a light kiss on Patton’s lips. “Thank you for your concern though.”

Patton didn’t look convinced in the slightest, but let it go for now. They fell into a comfortable silence. He listened half to his father’s vigorous story telling. Some old story about the hunt Roman heard a thousand times before, so he quickly lost interest and looked around instead.

“Uh oh.” He said. Patton looked up at him curiously.

“What is it?”

“Here comes trouble…” Roman nodded towards the crowd, where general Isolda steadily made her way to the lounging area. Judging by her usual suit of armour and sword by her side, she wasn’t there for the party.

General Isolda approached the king. “Your Majesty,” She interrupted. Roman admired her bravery, especially when his father turned to glare at her. “The guards have changed, and the security measures are once more in position. No incidents to report so far, however-”

“General, general!” His father laughed jovially. “This is a party! Relax a little! Aren’t you technically off duty?”

“I am.” General Isolda reluctantly admitted. “But that doesn’t mean that I shouldn’t be vigilant.”

“What are you worried about?” The king taunted. “Don’t you trust your good little soldiers, general?”

The general’s jaw tightened. “Of course I do. With all due respect, my king, but your and everyone’s safety lies in my hands-”

“Just yours?” The king joked. “Well, not to worry my friends! My one-woman-army shall defeat the horde of monsters attacking us tonight!”

The group burst out in boisterous laughter. Roman only grimaced as he saw general Isolda close her eyes for a few seconds, her mouth a taut line. The king turned back to his story, but the general seemed determined to get through to him.

“Please your Majesty, protocol is important-!”

“Mama!”

Roman and Patton turned just in time to see a small form in an iridescent purple dress tackle hug the general’s legs. General Isolda gave a startled yelp, before she looked down, scooped the form up and hurriedly stepped away from the group. The king didn’t notice, he was too busy regaling his latest hunting story.

“Little firefly, you know you shouldn’t run!” The general said worriedly to the slip of a girl in her arms. A bright smile lit up a frail little face amidst an ocean of ringlet curls. Roman figured she could be no older than five.

“Mama, mama!” The girl excitedly wiggled, completely ignoring her mother’s worry. “I had four cupcakes! And a nice lady said she liked my dress! And there’s a chocolate fountain! And-! And-!”

“That’s so nice, firefly,” General Isolda smiled. Roman did his best not to stare at the incredibly soft expression the usually so tough general now sported. “But where is on earth is your-”

“TEMIMA!”

“Ah, there he is.”

A short man with the same dark skin as his daughter and his dreadlocks in a fanciful bun ran over to the lounging area.

“Temima, there you are!” He said breathlessly. “You shouldn’t run like that! Especially not away from me!” “Papa!” The girl once more ignored the worry in favour of climbing from her mother’s arms over into her father’s. “I found mama!”

“Yes, well done sweetie,” The man said as he adjusted his daughter in his grip. “But next time warn me, okay? You got your old dad worried!”

“Okay papa!” Temima giggled.

“…Be glad you’re too cute to stay mad at,” The man sighed with a smile. “And how is my workaholic wife doing?”

The man stood on his tippy-toes, while general Isolda leaned down, almost automatically, and he pressed a sweet kiss on her cheek. Then something happened that Roman had never seen before. The general blushed.

“Rashon, I’m working.” General Isolda sighed, although a tiny smile graced her lips.

“You shouldn’t be working! This is your night off!” Her husband gently chastised.

“But the security-!”

“You’ve done an amazing job training and preparing the guards, my love,” Rashon smiled. “They know what to do! You don’t need to worry.”

“You do know who you’re talking to, right?”

“I know,” Rashon said. “But it can’t hurt to remind you once in a while.”

Another sweet kiss was exchanged and their daughter made an exaggerated gagging face. Patton sighed dreamily.

“What a sweet couple!” Patton whispered to him. “And their daughter! So cute!” He sighed again, and gave Roman a bashful smile. “Hopefully we’ll be such good parents one day too…”

His stomach fluttered as Roman imagined a bunch of their kids running around the castle. “Don’t worry,” He whispered back. “You’ll be the greatest dad ever!”

Patton nuzzled his nose against Roman’s. “Don’t you mean we will be the greatest dads ever?” He asked.

“Oh, I sure hope so…”

“Hello!”

Interrupted in their little moment, Roman and Patton turned to be greeted by wide eyes. Temima apparently had enough of her parents’ lovey-dovey behaviour and had wiggled herself to freedom to run to them and cling to Patton’s knees.

“Greetings!” Roman said cheerfully as he inspected the girl up close. She appeared to be very thin for her age. Her arms resembled sticks rather than flesh and blood. Her face seemed frail, almost sunken in. Her eyes were lively and curious though as she inspected Roman.

“You are the prince!” Temima said, almost accusingly.

“I am!” Roman replied. “Thank you for reminding me!”

“Well, I am a princess too!” The girl said offhandedly, like it was old news. Roman and Patton gave twin gasps in fake surprise.

“Really? Oh, our apologies your Highness!” Roman said as he bowed his head. “We didn’t know you would grace us with your presence today!”

“Temima, sweetheart,” Rashon hurried over to them. “Come on, let’s not bother our princes.”

“Oh, she’s no trouble, really!” Patton said. “Royalty has to stick together, am I right?” He said to Temima.

“Yeah!” The girls’ curls bounced as Temima nodded. “We should have tea together and ride horses and get rescued from towers and battle dragons and-!”

Suddenly the girl ran out of air and doubled over in Patton’s lap with a hacking cough. Roman sat up in startled concern as Patton gently rubbed her back. Both the general and her husband hurriedly crowded around their daughter.

“Sweetie, we told you running is not good for you!” Rashon fretted as he pressed a handkerchief to his daughter’s mouth.

“Has she had her medication yet?” General Isolda asked.

“About an hour ago,” Rashon smiled apologetically to Roman and Patton. “So sorry for this, we’ll be out of your way!” He placed the hand with the handkerchief on his daughter’s back so he could escort the trembling girl away. Roman’s eyes zoomed in on the white cloth, and felt his heart squeeze in his throat as he spotted the red stains now marring the handkerchief.

Blood.

All of a sudden the frail frame, thin face and her parent’s concern made a horrible kind of sense.

“Oh no…” Patton said next to him. The heartbroken look on his face made clear he saw the stains too. “That poor little girl! And her parents, oh this must be awful for them too!”

Roman nodded as he stared at the little family. The general rubbed her daughter’s back gently as her husband wiped Temima’s mouth with the handkerchief. How had he never known this? He didn’t even know general Isolda had a daughter! Okay, he never really asked, but the general had always been the strong and silent type rather than the talkative type. And maybe a sick daughter isn’t something she wished to speak about with her employer…

Roman bit his lip. He wished he could do something. Something to cheer up this sick little girl and give her a night fit for a princess!

An idea came him, and Roman grinned. Roman gave a squeeze to Patton’s hand, before he rose from his seat.

“Ah, it must be fate!” He sang out, making everyone in the lounging area look at him in confusion. “I do believe the bravest, most beautiful princess in the land has joined this party at last! I simply must ask her for a dance!”

With a flourishing gesture he bowed before Temima and offered his hand. The girl gaped up at him with glittering eyes.

“May I have this dance, princess?” Roman asked. Temima nodded wildly.

“Yes, you may!!” She jumped up and down with a large smile. Her parents didn’t look as happy though.

“Uh, your highness, that is honestly very kind,” Rashon stuttered. “But she can’t do too many physical activities, it will-”

Before he could finish, Roman swooped the girl off the ground. He settled her on one arm and with his other he held Temima’s tiny hand in a waltzing pose. It was very easy to hold her up; the girl barely weighed anything.

“Would it be okay like this?” He asked the stunned general and her husband.

“I…” General Isolda looked between her daughter and her prince, before her perplexed stare turned into a soft smile. “Yes… Yes, like that it should be fine.”

“Well then!” Roman levied Temima a bit higher up. “To the dance floor, princess!”

Temima whooped with laughter as Roman sped off to the dance floor. The orchestra had just started up a nice waltz, and Roman gently started swaying and twirling to the steps he knew by heart. It was a little different when his partner couldn’t follow those dance steps along with him, but the beaming girl in his arms made it all worth it. Temima could barely stop giggling.

“I must say you are an excellent dancer!” Roman joked as he gently dipped her, careful not to drop her.

“I am the best dancer!” Temima proudly proclaimed, throwing her free fist up in the air.

“Yes you are!” Roman laughed as he twirled. He barely noticed how the guests around him slowly stopped dancing to look in pure endearment at their prince and his tiny dance partner.

Far too soon the music came to a close, and Roman gave one final dramatic whirl as a finish, making Temima shriek in delight. Applause broke out over the garden as he came to a stop. The girl startled at all the eyes on her, and with a sudden bout of shyness quickly hid her face in Roman’s neck. Roman chuckled and bowed for the both of them as he walked off the dance floor to where general Isolda, her husband and Patton waited for him. The general and Rashon were both looking a little misty-eyed. Patton hid a wide beaming smile behind his hands, eyes sparkling. He was squealing in a pitch that could only be heard by bats.

“Here is the princess back!” Roman said. “Such grace and poise! Truly the belle of the ball!”

Temima giggled in his neck and gingerly looked up from her hiding place. Rashon stepped up to take his daughter over from Roman, who gave her back a little reluctantly.

“Did you have fun, firefly?” Rashon asked lovingly. Temima threw her arms around her father’s neck.

“I’m gonna marry Roman!” She said excitedly, pulling laughs from the four adults around her.

“Oh dear, this is awkward! Sorry Pat,” Roman said to Patton. “It seems like I have a new fiancé!”

“Completely understandable, I hope you two have a good life!” Patton answered, looking moments away from weeping literal buckets of joyful tears. The little group laughed again, before Temima yawned loudly.

“Uh-oh, looks like someone needs to get to bed!” General Isolda smiled, ruffling her daughter’s hair.

“I’m not tired!” The girl protested, barely supressing another yawn.

“Oh, it’s definitely sleep time for you, young lady. Yes it is!” General Isolda said sternly as Temima gave a spectacular pout. “It’s way past your bedtime!”

“I’ll go put her to bed. You go check on security again, because I know you still haven’t stopped worrying about it.” Rashon said mischievously to his wife.

“That’s-!” The general protested… Then she dropped al pretence and nodded. “True…” She admitted guiltily.

“Don’t I know my wife so well?” Rashon teased.

Roman and Patton waved goodbye as Rashon walked away, ignoring the weakly mumbled protests from his sleepy daughter. General Isolda waved too, a melancholy smile on her lips. When they were out of sight, she turned to Roman.

“Thank you, your Highness.” She said in a gentle tone Roman never heard before. “This evening was… Well, I don’t think she’ll ever forget this.”

“Any time,” Roman said sincerely. “It was my pleasure!”

General Isolda gave him a searching look, seemingly unsure in what to say. But she smiled.

“I better try to talk with our king again.” She finally said.

“Good luck with that!” Roman joked before he could stop it. The general huffed a short laugh before walking away.

“So… How about another dance with your fiancé?” Patton asked.

“I would love to, but she just went to bed!”

“Oh, you know what I mean!” Patton laughed as he pulled Roman along with him.

As they danced, Patton looked up at Roman so softly that it made him blush.

“Penny for your thoughts, dear heart?” He asked.

“You,” Patton beamed proudly. “Are going to be the best husband and dad anyone could ever ask for!” Roman felt his cheeks darken even more.

“Oh Pat!” He flustered. “You think so?”

“I know so! I can feel it!” “Let me guess. In your belly?”

“Exactly!”

“Well, in that case I better BELLI-eve it!”

Both men laughed as they twirled around. The wind was picking up, making Roman shiver. Patton shuddered too.

“Gosh, it’s getting a bit colder, huh?” Patton said.

“Don’t worry,” Roman held him closer and smouldered a bit. “I’ll keep you warm!”

Patton chortled, hiding his blushing face in Roman’s chest. Roman pressed a kiss to Patton’s curls with a smile. Another swift breeze made him shiver again. Huh, the wind was… Really getting stronger, wasn’t it? Roman saw several people around him rub their arms, trying to abide their shivers and murmuring about the change of weather.

“Oof! Perhaps we better get back to one of those bonfires!” Patton said. Roman was about to agree, when a strong gust of harsh cold wind cut him off. Startled shrieks were heard of those whose hat or skirts were rustled high in the sudden draught. The dancing ceased, as the wind only grew stronger and stronger. The orchestra floundered to a halt as glasses were knocked off tables and the lanterns blew out one by one, plunging the gardens in partial darkness.

“A storm?” Patton said puzzled. “That’s odd, there weren’t any signs of a storm coming!”

“…This isn’t a normal storm.” Roman knew with a terrifying certainty. He was proven correct when a wall of swirling black clouds started to climb and gather over the castle, darkening the starlit sky. The clouds churned and coiled like a pit of serpents. A thunderclap echoed across the sky, loud enough to drown out the panicked screams of the partygoers that erupted all over the gardens.

“What is happening??” Patton cried out.

“I don’t know, but we better get inside!” Roman managed to yell over another deafening roll of thunder. He threw his arm protectively around Patton’s shoulders as they bolted towards the castle. Everyone else seemed to have the same idea as the whole crowd ran for cover. They were almost at the doors! Some had it already made it inside-!

Lightning struck right before the open doors, narrowly missing the people that had almost reached the entrance. Panic turned into terror as the crowd now had to run back in the opposite direction as three more lightning bolts struck down in fast procession before the doors. Roman barely managed to avoid getting trampled by the hysterical mob, as he and Patton had to turn and run back. People who tried to get out through other exits met the same fate, until finally the mass of people was gathered at the back of the gardens. The lightning strikes lessened but did not cease, trapping the huddled together horde. Roman held Patton tightly as his fiancé screamed over another thunderclap that left a ringing in Roman’s ears.

“General!” A voice rang next to Roman. He jerked away. He hadn’t realized his father was standing right next to him.

“Where are the guards at the moat you kept pestering me about all night??” The king barked over the storm at a baffled general Isolda.

“I don’t know! They should be in their position!” The general answered. “I don’t understand! I gave them new orders barely an hour ago-!”

“Did you now?” The king laughed sarcastically. “Well, how about you get out there and order them to do the one job I hired them for and fix this mess-!”

“Look there!” A woman screamed, pointing to the other side of the moat. Roman tore his eyes away from the swirling clouds above to look where the person was pointing.

At the riverbank stood a figure shrouded in mist, seemingly unaffected by the violent wind and lightning. The mist curled as the coiling clouds above, twisting itself around the man like fog serpents. A black cloak with a large hood hid away the person’s face.

A dark laugh echoed across the moat, louder than the storm above. All the partygoers fell silent and turned to stare in confusion and horror at the man.

“My my my, what a lovely party,” The man amusedly crooned. His voice drifted around the guests like he spoke directly into their ears. “I guess my invitation got lost in the mail! But not to worry…” The person spread his arms. “I’ve made it!”

A flash of lightning briefly illuminated the sky, followed immediately by a loud thunderclap, and for a split second Roman saw a face with inhuman features beneath the hood, a lazy grin showing too sharp teeth and eyes filled with hate. Roman felt his legs tremble underneath him as he moved to protectively stand in front of Patton. He heard his fiancé whimper in fear as Patton grabbed on tightly to his arm.

There was no shadow of a doubt in Roman’s mind; Somehow he knew exactly who this person was.

His father made his way to the edge of the riverbank. “You…” He fumed. His father’s face was contorted in anger, and Roman involuntarily flinched away from the fury, even though it was not directed at him.

“Augusto!” The warlock clapped his hands together in mock delight. “What a pleasure to see you again!” The man took a few steps closer to the edge of the moat, taking in the king on the other side. “You’ve grown old.” He teased, poison lacing his sugary cheerful voice.

“They know each other?!” Patton whispered behind him. Roman stared at the two men just as dumbfounded as Patton was.

“You’re not welcome here!” His father hissed. The warlock fanned a hand out over his chest in fake shock.

“Not welcome? What a horrible lack of hospitality! I’m disappointed in you, Augusto!”

“What do you want?” The king bit out.

“What do I want? Well, let’s see…” The warlock tapped a finger to his chin in mock thought. “I want your crown, your throne and oooh, I don’t know… You suffering in a deep ditch and begging at my feet for scraps of food.”

Roman shrunk into himself at the sheer venom in the other’s voice. His father however only laughed.

“Oh really? How are you planning to do that?” His father mocked. “You and your little tricks don’t scare me! You know the rules, Deceit.”

“Yes, yes,” The warlock made a bored gesture. “I can not enter castle grounds unless someone of the royal family invites me in, yadda yadda… I know the rules just as well as you, dearie.”

Roman’s eyebrows nearly shot up to his hairline. How- When?? And why- What. What on earth was happening??

King Augusto wearily looked around. Apparently he wasn’t very keen that the warlock shared that particular little tidbit of information with the crowd.

“If you know them so well,” The king said. “Why are you here?”

For a few terrifying seconds Roman felt the eyes underneath the hood resting on him, before the warlock looked back at his father.

“Because, dearie,” Deceit set one more step. His foot nearly touched the water of the moat. “You’re going to invite me in.”

His father scoffed with a laugh. “And what exactly makes you think I would do that?” He asked. The warlock tilted his head to the side. Tense silence fell, and his father already looked smug. Then the warlock started chuckling, low and softly. The sound made Roman’s hairs stand on end.

“Because I have something that belongs to you…” Deceit said in a singsong voice. The warlock stretched his hand out to his side in a silent summon. From the mist behind him, gnarled roots appeared like tentacles emerging from inky water. The roots were carrying someone, entangled in a wooden embrace. Roman squinted. The person lay limp in the branches, their eyes closed and their skin sickly pale, showing off gaunt cheekbones sticking out from hollowed cheeks and dried up blood on their forehead. A usually very well cared for moustache now hung lifeless above cracked, dry lips, because the person was-

“REMUS!!” Roman yelled as he tore himself from Patton’s grasp and ran to the moat, ready to jump into the murky waters to swim across because that was his brother, he was alive-!

Strong arms grabbed him before he made it to the water. Roman screamed and trashed while his father only grasped him tighter.

“No no- Let me go!! REMUS!!” Roman struggled as hard as he could, but his father’s arms were as unyielding as steel beams. Across the water the warlock chuckled again.

“Oh, his attempt to kill me was very courageous… And very, very stupid. I’ll admit; he has been good entertainment these past months.” Deceit reached out to gently caress Remus’ sickly face with his knuckles. “But I’ve grown tired of his… Incessant screaming. And since no one came to look for him, I thought why not deliver him back to your doorstep myself?”

The warlock laughed when Remus flinched away from the touch, and Roman started seeing red.

“You… YOU MONSTER!!” Roman screamed and renewed his struggle with new strength. “YOU LET HIM GO RIGHT NOW OR YOU’LL REGRET IT!!”

“If you want him, dear prince,” Deceit purred. “All you have to do is invite me in.”

Roman already opened his mouth, ready to invite him all right, invite him to a private meeting with his sword! But his father’s hand clamped over his mouth before a syllable could leave.

“Do you want to endanger everyone in this castle?!” His father hissed in his ear. Roman stiffened. Just the thought of what this villain would do to his friends made Roman want to throw up. So reluctantly he stopped fighting against his father’s grip, and shook his head. Slowly his father took away his hand from Roman’s mouth. He didn’t let go of him though.

“No invite just yet? Pity…” Deceit sighed. “But I’ll make you a deal, Augusto.”

“What kind of deal?” King Augusto asked.

“It’s you I truly want, you know that. Give up your crown and take your son’s place, and I promise no harm will come to anyone at this little get-together. As a true act of good will, I’ll even let your family live! Quite the bargain, don’t you think?”

“Why should I trust the word of a man who calls himself Deceit?” His father jeered.

“Let me put it this way… What choice do you have?” The warlock laughed as he turned away. “You have one hour!”

The warlock threw a wave of his fingers over his shoulder as he walked away, the roots with the trapped prince following him back into the dark.

“NO!! COME BACK!!” Roman screamed. He tore himself away from his father’s slackening grip, but when he reached the edge of the water, both the warlock and his brother had disappeared into the mist.

They had taken refuge in the throne room, the only space big enough to accommodate all the guests. The people huddled together in small groups, whimpering when another thunderclap rang through the air and shook the windows in their panes. Patton walked around, whispering comforting words to whoever needed them. Roman had been dragged inside alongside everyone else against his will. The image of his brother’s pale face haunted him with every step. He tried to focus instead on the argument happening between his parents and the general.

“How has that monster been able to come this close? Who let him through? Are these your well trained soldiers you always speak so highly about, general?” The queen sneered. “Or have you neglected your job so bad that you’ve only trained them to be snivelling cowards?!”

“Please, your Majesty,” General Isolda pleaded. “The guards were probably eliminated by the threat before the storm even started! I don’t think anything could have stopped this man from advancing in on us!”

“Excuses!” The king roared. “Nothing but excuses! If anyone in this castle is harmed, general, I will hold you personally responsible!”

The general tightened her hands into fists. “…Yes your Majesty.” She said, rage simmering beneath her calm exterior.

“Good,” The king growled. “Now, we need a plan of some sort. We can’t give in to this mad man’s demands! We should-”

“What did he mean, ‘no one came to look for him’?”

The king and queen paused, as they turned to the one who spoke. Roman looked back at them apprehensively.

“What was that, dear?” His mother said.

“What the warlock said. He said… that no one came looking for Remus.” Roman walked closer. “You told me you sent knights. You told me. Why did he say no one did?”

The king and queen exchanged a brief look.

“Roman, don’t be stupid,” The queen sighed impatiently. “He was lying, obviously! Men like that can only lie-”

“A man who brags about… about torturing someone,” Roman spat the word out. “Who enjoined inflicting someone pain… Someone like that-!” Roman’s gaze went distant. A horrid realization rose up in him as acid bile in his throat.“…Someone like that wouldn’t lie if he had taken more prisoners…” He said faintly. “If anything he would have rubbed it into our faces!”

“…What exactly are you implying, son?” His father said, in that soft dangerous voice that normally had Roman cower in the corner of the room. Now however… Roman did nothing to hide the dawning revulsion on his face as he stared at his parents, disbelief and fury fighting for first place.

“…Tell me the truth,” Roman said with a tremor in his voice. “Did you send knights to look for Remus, yes or no?”

“Roman, you’re being ridiculous-!”

“Yes or no?”

“You would believe that criminal over us?” His father said in disbelief. “We’re your parents-!” “You’re not answering my question-!” Roman bit out, clenching his shaking hands into fists. “Yes or no?!”

“Roman, you are obviously too emotional to talk right now!” His mother said heatedly. “We’re not talking to you until you can be rational again-!”

Roman screamed. His body acted before his mind could catch up. In one smooth motion, he moved, grabbed the sword out of general Isolda’s scabbard and pointed it directly at the general’s throat. Shocked gasps rang throughout the throne room as the guests backed away, creating a large circle around the royal family and the general held at sword point.

“TELL ME THE TRUTH!!” Roman roared at the pale general. “Did my parents sent anyone to look for my brother, YES OR NO?!”

“No! No they didn’t!” General Isolda cried out. “They never even considered it!”

“General!” King Augusto hissed angrily. “Shut up!”

“The knights that were dispatched were sent out on a five year diplomacy mission across the sea!” The general continued, stammering to get the words out as fast as she could. “They had orders not to tell anyone where they went! I was supposed to tell everyone they went to the mountains instead!”

Roman’s hands shook so hard that the tip of his sword scratched general Isolda’s neck. The woman did not pull away, just stared into his eyes while Roman’s mind scrambled to come up with something to say, something that could even come close to express the raging hellfire that was steadily growing inside his chest.

“How- How could…” Roman shook his head. “Why didn’t you tell-!”

“They threatened me,” General Isolda croaked. “They threatened my family. My husband, my daughter-! They said- They said they would take away her medication!”

“You filthy liar!” Queen Nadia screamed. “How dare you accuse us of such things-!”

“I’m sorry…” The general whispered to Roman, tears forming in her eyes. “I failed you, my prince… I’m so sorry…”

Roman took two tumbling steps away from general Isolda as he gingerly lowered the sword. He felt lightheaded. Dimly he was aware of his parents shouting at the general, of the guests’ horrified whispering and the thunder still raging outside, but it was like hearing them from underwater. Months filled with grief and mind-numbing guilt tore through him like a serrated knife.

It had all been for nothing.

“-oman? Roman!”

Sound came rushing back in. Roman slowly turned his gaze, and made eye contact with his parents.

“… you lied to me…” Roman said quietly.

“Honey,” His mother said sweetly as she and her husband warily approached him. “We would never-!”

“You LIED to me!” Roman shouted.

“Roman, calm down,” His father said. “This is all just a big misunderstanding!” He reached out to grasp Roman’s shoulder. “If you just let us explain-”

Roman swung his sword up so quickly that it grazed his father’s sleeve, cutting clean through the expensive fabric. “Don’t touch me!” He spat. His parents startled back, staring shocked at the sword pointed at them, before their faces twisted in anger.

“You dare-!” His father started.

“YES!! YES I DARE!!” Roman yelled. “Like I should have dared years ago! Like I should have dared when you forbade me to go into the mountains! YES YOU FORBADE ME!!” He screamed when his mother opened his mouth. “I’m not STUPID!! I’M NOT!!”

“Then stop acting like a child!!” His father bellowed. “There is nothing we can do now!”

“Yes. There. IS!!”

“You would have us surrender to that maniac?!”

“It is ONE man! Our army could easily overpower him, especially if we take our own court sorcerer with us!”

“I will not yield to your naïve fantasies Roman!” His father spat. “There is nothing we can do!”

“You… You don’t care, do you?” Roman said incredulously. How had he not realized sooner? “Your own son is outside, in pain and in the hands of a monster… And you. Don’t. Care.” He didn’t wait for an answer. Instead he turned and stomped towards the exit.

“Roman?” His mother snapped. “Roman, we’re not finished-! Where are you going?”

“I am,” Roman answered without looking back. “Going to get my brother.” He tore his stupid ornate jacket off and tossed it behind him. The crown on his head followed suit. “And if I have to beg for his forgiveness for the rest of our lifetimes, so be it!”

“You will do no such thing!” His father shouted. “Get back here, now!! That is an order!”

Roman ignored him. Not a hint of fear went through him as he trudged through the guests, who jumped out of their way to let him through.

“Roman?! I said get back here! ROMAN!!”

“Walk to hell!” Roman yelled back.

The king and queen gasped in outrage and disbelief.

“Fine. You want to do this the hard way?” King Augusto said through gritted teeth. “Then we’ll do it the hard way! GUARDS! Seize him!”

Roman stopped in his track as knights blocked the doorway and several others circled around him. With a snarl he raised his sword.

“Out of my way!” Roman growled. The knights hesitated.

“What are you waiting for?” The queen spat. “If you value your lives seize him!”

The knights closed in. Metal clashed with metal as Roman met their swords with determined vigour. He kicked a knight away before he blocked another attack with his sword. He threw a punch, elbowed a knight in the nose that tried to grab him in a headlock.

It was a losing battle. There were just too many! Still Roman fought, slashing his sword, kicking, punching, and trying to get to the doors. He was so close! Three knights grabbed him and wrestled him to the floor. Roman screamed and struggled as they started to wrangle the sword from his hand. Roman held on tightly even as they tried to pry his fingers open.

He couldn’t give up! Not now! He couldn’t he couldn’t he COULDN’T-!!

Abruptly the weight on his back disappeared. The guards screamed in terror. Roman turned just in time to see the knights being lifted into the air and thrown aside by familiar shadows. Shadows that Roman only now noticed had a purple tinge to them.

Footsteps neared. Hands gripped his arms, and a grim looking Virgil helped Roman to his feet.

“Anyone else object?” Virgil asked the dead silent throne room. “No? Good.”

“Mr Storm?” Queen Nadia sputtered in offence. “You half-witted traitor! If you want to keep your job, you better-!”

“Oh, haven’t I told you?” Virgil interrupted, looking the king and queen dead in the eye. “I quit. Now,” He turned to Roman. “Let’s go get your brother.”

“Virgil…” Roman marvelled with wide eyes. “I… Thank you. Thank you so much-!”

“Save the gratitude for later! We don’t have much time!”

“Right… Right!”

Quickly- and under sound protest of the king and queen- Virgil and Roman threw open the doors and ran out of the throne room.

“Do you have a plan??” Virgil asked as they dashed through the halls.

“None whatsoever!” Roman answered. “We’ll improvise!”

“Improvising? Terrible idea! Let’s do it!”

“ROMAN!!”

Skidding to a halt, Roman and Virgil turned to the familiar voice that shouted. Patton had run after them.

“Ro-Roman-!” Patton wheezed as he caught up to them. “Virge-! Don’t go, please-!!”

“Pat, I have to!”

“It’s dangerous! You’ll get hurt!”

“That’s my brother out there!” Roman said. “You can’t expect me to leave him there!”

“I... I know I can’t, but-!” With a cry, Patton threw himself into Roman’s embrace. Roman caught him, and felt tears wet his shirt. “I’ll go with you!” Patton’s muffled voice came from his chest.

“No!” Roman grabbed his fiancé by his shoulders to gently push him off. “You’ll only be in danger out there!”

“So will you!” Patton grabbed Roman’s wrists before he could pull away. “Please! I- I can fight!” “Puffball…” Roman said as gently as he could. “Last time you held a sword, you cried.”

“Yeah, well-! This is different! My fiancé and one of my best friends have to throw themselves into danger, and what would I do? Twiddle my thumbs until you return? I can’t-!”

“Roman is right,” Virgil interrupted. “Bringing you along will only put all of us at greater risk. No offense. Sorry Pat, but you’ll have to sit this one out.”

Patton shook his head. “It can’t just be you two! Look outside, you’ll get slaughtered! Bring knights! Soldiers! Anything!”

“Who, Pat??” Roman cried out. “Who here is actually going to listen to me, instead of answering to my parents??”

“I’ll go with you.” A voice answered. The three men turned. General Isolda made her way to them, her jaw set and a new sword by her side. She must have taken it from another knight.

“General…” Roman gave her a suspicious glare. “If you’re here to drag me back, so help me I will-!”

“No. No I’m not.” The woman came to a halt a little distance away. “Please your Highness, I understand that you do not trust me! What I did was…” She breathed in deeply. “It was inexcusable. That your brother suffered is partly my blame. But please, allow me to redeem myself. Let me help you get him back!”

Roman felt precious seconds ticking away as he took in the woman before him, torn between wishing to trust her and screaming at her for keeping this a secret from him. …But was she truly to blame? Or was she just another victim of his parents’ schemes?

An image of a small girl in a purple dress and a handkerchief stained with blood crossed his mind’s eye.

“You’re not going to redeem yourself,” Roman said shakily. The general let her gaze drop to the floor, resignation in her stance. “Because none of this is your fault.” He continued. General Isolda’s eyes shot back up.

“Your Highness-!” She protested, but Roman held up a hand to cut her off.

“This mess is not your fault,” He insisted. “You had no choice.”

“There is always a choice!”

“Not when it comes to your children,” Roman said quietly. “You protect your children, no matter what… Something my parents failed to do.”

“But I-” “You are not obligated to join me,” Roman interrupted. “I will not order you to risk your life when you can go and protect your loved ones instead. However, if you still wish to help me… Then I will gladly take your offer.”

“…Prince Roman,” The general said after a couple of seconds. “It would be an honour to fight by your side.”

Roman let out the breath of relief he hadn’t realized he was holding.

“Then let’s not waste any more time!” Virgil said. “We only have so much of the hour left!”

“But-! Wait! You can’t-!” Patton stammered. “Don’t worry, your Highness,” General Isolda put a reassuring hand on Patton’s shoulder. “I will safely return your friend and the prince back home.” She looked at Roman, determination filling her eyes. “I will bring both the princes home.”

Gratitude filled Roman up until it threatened to overwhelm him. He had no time to dwell on it, however. So he merely nodded in understanding and turned to run out the front doors. Virgil and the general followed, leaving Patton behind in terrified tears.

Outside the storm still raged. Thunder boomed, lightning flashed. The wind pushed at Roman as if it encouraged him to turn back. Roman only tightened the hold on his sword and bared his teeth.

He was going to get his brother back… No matter what.

#sanders sides #sanders sides fic #roman sanders #patton sanders #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #remus sanders #ts roman #ts remus #ts deceit #ts virgil #ts patton #romantic royality #royality #I though this fic was going to be a one shot with a small sequel #I now am 3k in with no end in sight #send help

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