#the story so far navy blue

[g-cedillo]

I hope this makes you sad.

[desidino]

And if I had a match for every lie

And every attempt to deny

I’d strike a few

[darkprincessw]

Damn it's hard to find sustenance

when all I had was love for this and now you don't

Now I just abuse substances to drown out your accomplishments, however few

[roxisucks]

i hope this makes you sad.

[imasucker-4-memories]

If it's something serious then hit me up

but until then the door is shut, forget my room.

[breaking-justin]

The traditional pop punk wedding must now have shades of navy blue. Parker Cannon makes the rules.

[alivee-in-spite-of-me]

Here’s an old video of me playing navy blue by tssf. I posted it on my old tumblr so thought I’d repost it on here.

[breakingjustxn]

the new pop punk wedding colors have to be navy blue. parker cannon said so, it’s the rule now.

[whateverloomis]

Dilf!Billy Loomis who kidnaps the sweet lil reader that works at the local Spirit Halloween?

I've always wondered how Billy would kidnap someone because he 100% would lmao. This is basically a drabble, it's all I've been able to put out lately. Anyways, here it is! Hope y'all enjoy babes 🫶🏼

Warnings: FEM READER, kidnapping (honestly it was a willing situation but the intention was there lmao,) spiked drink, alcohol consumption, flirting, fingering, stranger danger (lol,) Stu Macher feature, unedited

Finally, your favorite season has arrived and you couldn't be happier. Fall. Halloween. Gloomy nights and a full moon. Ghost stories and pumpkin spice in the air.

It also means night shifts at Spirit Halloween. It isn't exactly the funnest job, but being surrounded by all kinds of decorations and costumes is worth doing it.

Tonight the store isn't as full as it usually is and you're almost grateful. The week has been chaotic so far and you definitely need a slow day, especially since you're at the register.

A few people came in and browsed the costumes but nobody bought anything, except for one. A man.

He's wearing a white tee with an oversized navy blue jacket along with light wash jeans. As you scan his body with your eyes you land on his black doc marten boots. It looks like they've been used quite a bit but they're still in great shape. You fixate your gaze a little too long on them, boots are one of your weaknesses and the man wearing them sure make them look extra hot. He must be in his 50s, but fuck does he look delicious. It's odd for you to find older men attractive but when it happen you're practically weak at the knees.

You continue looking at him as you suck on a lollipop you stole from a random aisle. With the view of the attractive man studying and touching the Halloween masks your brain got creative, and you definitely wouldn't mind having his cock in your mouth instead. Gosh, what a slut. Thinking that way about a complete stranger? Who does that?

It doesn't stop you from entertaining yourself with the thought as you feel the sugary bulb against your tongue.

"Do you have another one of these available?" the man asks and snaps you back to reality. He's holding a ghost face mask and you can't help but imagine him wearing the damn thing.

You nod and search for another mask from the pile of items people decide not to buy last minute, and luckily you find another one.

After handing it to him, you pull the lollipop out of your mouth, "Anything else I can help with?"

You noticed how he looked at your lips when you removed the candy from your mouth and smirked, "Mm, no, I have everything," he responded and you instantly got flustered.

"So, are you new in town? I haven't seen you around before," he asks, making small talk.

"Yes, I moved here a few months ago. It's pretty nice, I didn't think I'd like Woodsboro much..." you trailed off and Billy looked at you with a questioning look,

"Is it that boring here?" he continued and you laugh shily, "No, I just don't really have friends to hang out with..." you say and the man frowns.

"Well, I can show you around if you'd like. I know a nice deck with a mini bar down by the Woodsboro lake. It's really nice at night when there's a clear sky." he said and you mentally curse yourself for being tempted to go hang out with him. A stranger. But you couldn't help it, it's been a while since you hung out with someone and this guy is incredibly hot.

Your mind is racing but before you reason with yourself, you accept his invite... Billy Loomis' invite.

•

After a brief walk and a few drinks at the mini bar you were already letting loose and getting flirty with Billy.

"Wait, so he fell in the water with his suit on?" you asked, giggling at Billy's story of Stu falling into the hotel pool where their prom was hosted in '96. You were sitting rather close to the man, your thigh touching his while you faced each other.

"He really did, the idiot" he responded and took a swing of his beer. "We should all hang out sometime, I'm sure he'd like you." Billy continued and you blushed at his words. "Really? You think so?" you asked, shyness taking over. "Of course, anyone would like a cutie like you," he said, no shame in being straightforward.

You bit your lip and let out a breathy laugh. "I've never thought that way about myself..."

"Well, you should, I mean look at you" he continued and placed his hand on your thigh, running it up your skin slowly until it rested right under the hem of your short dress.

Silence fell upon you in an instant and the tension that was building went up a notch. Naturally, both of you leaned in and gave each other a few lingering kisses.

Billy pulled back and hissed, looking down at his hand on your thigh, squeezing slightly. "Bars about to close... You wanna go back to my place?" he asked and you nodded slowly, following him to his car.

Once you reached the vehicle Billy leaned against the hood and pulled you towards him by your hips. You instantly wrapped your arms around his neck and continued kissing and it quickly got heated.

You might be a shy person, but when it comes to getting what you want? You don't hesitate one but, and at that moment you wanted him. This stranger that you met a few days ago.

It's reckless but you didn't care. The way that man was using his tongue to tease your lips and mouth was incredible and you could've stayed there all night but you needed more.

"Mm, let's go" you broke the kiss. Billy smirked and opened the door for you, looking at your ass when you walked past him to get in the car.

•

You found yourself straddling Billy's lap on the couch of his living room. The cabin he owns is relatively small but extremely cozy and charming in every way, just like him.

The sound of your soft moans mix with the crackling of the fire place. The make out session had been going on for a while and you were already grinding against his growing length. He feels big, and you can't wait to see what he's hiding in his pants.

Billy was careful with what he chose to do, he didn't want to scare you away after all, so he slowly slipped his hands under your dress and pulled it up and over your ass. You moved your hips quicker in response to his actions and he exhaled at the feeling of your pussy against his clothed cock.

He squeezed your ass and dug his fingers in your flesh before sneaking one of his hands between your legs. He rubbed your clit over your underwear, encouraging you to grind against them, and that you did. Slowly.

"Fuck... You soaked through these." Billy said while snapping the band of your underwear with his free hand, "I've barely touched you baby..." he continued and nipped your neck.

"Mm, please..." you said and grab his hand. "Need to feel..." you continued while you pulled your underwear to the side, moving his fingers inside your throbbing cunt.

"Fuck..." Billy moaned and finger fucked you from below imagining his cock buried inside you.

After a while his impatience took over and he stood up. You wrapped your legs around his torso along with your arms around his neck and into his room you went...

•

After Gods know how much time of fucking and playing with each other Billy offered you a drink, which you gladly accepted. After a few sips you went to the bathroom to clean up, and while you were away he took the opportunity to spike your drink. Of course he had alternate motives, and you were an easy target. Too easy.

Once you came back and took a few more sips of that drink you never thought you'd end up passing out... much less end up with your hands tied behind your back on a chair in the middle of a living room. A room that was comforting a few hours prior, but there you were. Confused out of your mind.

"Look who's up" you heard Billy whisper. His hand softly brushed against your cheek.

"Where... What?" you said while moving your arms around, feeling the restraints.

"Shh sh sh, we're at my place, remember?" Billy said softly. Why was he being so gentle in a situation like this? You had no clue, and it made the situation all the more confusing and frightening.

"What's goin- What the fuck?!" You lost it.

"Hm... Well, you see... It's a very interesting story, really. I used to study with your aunty Prescott."

No way.

"And I tried to kill her, but the bitch got away from me, so I thought... Hm, how can I get her attention again?"

"Billy... Don't" You started.

"Why not kidnap her sweet nephew. The one she loves like a daughter..."

"Billy..."

"Why not use these? Terrorize the town again... Terrorize Sidney again." He continued, holding the ghostface masks up. The ones you sold him a few days ago.

But why two?

"Am I late?" You heard another voice behind you. Turning around was useless so you closed your eyes hoping it was all a dream.

"Nah, I'm just getting started" Billy replied and the other man came to view. He handed Billy a knife and took his mask afterwards.

"YN, meet Stu." Billy said and Stu waved as if this were a normal everyday interaction.

"You. You're the ghostface killers..." you put it together quickly, all the memories of Sid warning you about moving to that damn town. How she wouldn't trust the silence.

She was right.

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

Where Will All The Martyrs Go [Chapter 5: Heads Or Tails, Fairy Tales In My Mind]

Series summary: In the midst of the zombie apocalypse, both you and Aemond (and your respective travel companions) find yourselves headed for the West Coast. It’s the 2024 version of the Oregon Trail, but with less dysentery and more undead antagonists. Watch out for snakes! 😉🐍

Series warnings: Language, sexual content (18+ readers only), violence, bodily injury, med school Aemond, character deaths, nature, drinking, smoking, drugs, Adventures With Aegon™️, pregnancy and childbirth, the U.S. Navy, road trip vibes, RIP Jace.

Series title is a lyric from: “Letterbomb” by Green Day.

Chapter title is a lyric from: “Are We The Waiting” by Green Day.

Word count: 5.8k

💜 All my writing can be found HERE! 💜

Let me know if you’d like to be added to the taglist 🥰

“I know he has a scalpel in his bag,” Baela says, meaning Aemond. You are sitting with her on the front steps of a two-story house—1970s construction, split foyer, pale blue siding and rust-red bricks—on Trux Street in Plymouth, Ohio. This town was named for the place where the pilgrims stepped off the Mayflower over four hundred years ago, pioneers who crossed through the doorway of an unfathomably changing world to die of disease, cold, accidents, starvation, violence. You wonder if you are so unlike them. “He’s assisted with c-sections before, if it comes to that. And he has needles and surgical thread. But he doesn’t have any way to anesthetize me.”

Luke and Rhaena are on the roof of the silver Chrysler Pacifica parked at the end of the driveway and surveilling the road. Everyone else is inside tearing the house apart as they try to find the keys. You don’t know what to say to Baela. There is no way to console her except by lying, and she’s too smart for that. “How far along are you?”

“I don’t even know.” She laughs like she’s on the verge of losing her mind. You don’t blame her. “The doctors calculate it based on the date of your last period, but mine was all over the place. I had tried a few different birth control pills and had all these side effects, weird spotting and cramping, no sex drive, feeling depressed, so I just figured I’d go all natural for six months and give my body a chance to reset. And we all know how that turned out.” She skims her palms over the globe of her belly, hidden beneath the flowing periwinkle cotton of a maternity dress she found at the Walmart back in Shenandoah. “I’m officially due in four weeks.”

“But it could happen at any time.”

Baela nods miserably. “My mum had me and Rhaena the…you know…the natural way, and it was smooth sailing. But she needed an emergency c-section with my little brother. What happens if that’s how it goes for me? Do you ever think about all the ways people can die now? It’s not just the zombies. I could get murdered, or fall and crack my skull open, or get a cut that turns septic, or rupture my appendix, or get frostbite or heatstroke, or get bitten by a snake. It never ends. We’ll be balancing on the knife’s edge for the rest of our lives.”

You wish you were better with words; you wish you were someone who spoke effortlessly like Rio or Aegon. You reply with the only thing you can think of. “Humans have survived for hundreds of thousands of years, and for the vast majority of that time with no modern medicine. It was dangerous, and it was painful. But there have always been people who made it. We wouldn’t exist otherwise.”

Remarkably, this seems to help. “I know Aemond will do everything he can for me,” Baela says, more steadily now. “He’s always been the most dependable one. So serious, so protective. Daeron was visiting us in Boston when everything shut down, and Aemond wouldn’t let the kid out of his sight for weeks…then Aemond almost died when he lost his eye and Daeron proved he could take care of himself with his compound bow.” Baela unwraps a Twizzler and takes a bite out of it, gazing vacantly at the sky, calm and overcast now that the storm has passed, breezy, mid-80s. She doesn’t even like them, but she’s been eating through a pack of Twizzlers Luke had been carrying in his backpack for Jace, slow mindless chewing like a cow’s. “Aemond feels responsible for you now. And that’s difficult when there’s so little control he actually has over what ends up happening.”

“Baela…I’m so sorry about Jace.”

“Drowning isn’t so bad, I guess. I hope he drowned. I hope he was dead before he washed ashore and they ate him.” Baela turns to you, eyes glazed. “Do you think we should have shot him before we left the river? To make sure he didn’t die in pain? You could have done it if you wanted to. Your aim is good enough.”

“No,” you say, horrified but trying to soften it. “I think that would have been…immoral.”

“I don’t even have a picture of Jace to show the baby, everything was online or on my phone, and now that’s all…gone. Just gone. Like he never even existed. How am I going to explain to my child what Boston was, or law school, or aerospace engineering, or grocery stores or shopping malls or Instagram, or anything else about our lives before this whole fucking disaster? All they’ll ever know is running from monsters, scrounging for shelter and supplies from the ruins of civilization.”

“The world is going to come back, Baela. Maybe not for five or ten years, and maybe looking a lot different than it did before, but humanity will recover. The Black Death wasn’t the end, and neither were the World Wars or the Mongol invasions or the colonization of the Americas, or famines or floods or volcanic eruptions. The zombies won’t end us either.”

“Do you really believe that?”

I want to. “Yeah, I do. We just have to hold on until the tide turns. We can’t give up.”

“In that case, I’ll try not to go completely insane in the immediate future. Thank God Rhaena and Luke are still here. Do you have any siblings?”

You smile vaguely. “Four.”

“Wow,” Baela says. “Do you know where they are now?”

There is an interruption before you have to decide how to answer: a roaring high above in the sky, a remote mechanical growling. You and Baela both look up to see a jet zooming by, just below the steel grey cloud cover and leaving a trail of condensation behind it like a comet’s tail of eons-old cosmic dust. From where he is perched atop the Pacifica, Luke is pointing at the jet to show Rhaena. Aemond, Rio, Aegon, and Daeron come rocketing out of the house to find the source of the noise. After a moment, Helaena moseys onto the front porch as well, tucking flashlights and napkins into her burlap messenger bag. Meanwhile, Aegon is filling his pockets with packs of Marlboro Golds and orange prescription bottles labelled Percocet.

“Is that an airplane?!” Aegon gasps. “People are flying again?! Oh, we are back, baby! We are so back! I’m catching the next flight to SFO, peace out bitches, no more Oregon Trail for me!”

“It’s a jet,” Aemond says flatly. “Not a passenger carrier. Probably military.”

“Doesn’t look like one of ours.” Rio turns to you for confirmation.

“No, I don’t recognize it.”

“Then who the fuck is up there?” Aegon says. “Canada? The U.K.?”

Rio sighs, ruffling Aegon’s already quite disheveled blonde hair. “Who knows, Honey Bun. Maybe it’s China or Russia swinging by to drop nukes on any survivors.”

“Fortunately, nobody’s going to waste a nuclear bomb on freaking Plymouth, Ohio,” Baela says, watching the jet vanish into the west, the droning of its engines replaced by the breeze through the sugar maples and sycamores, the screeching of cicadas and chirps of robins. “No luck finding the keys?”

Aemond frowns as he shakes his head, tapping his chin anxiously. He knows she can’t walk much farther.

“How do none of us know how to hotwire a car?” Aegon demands, exasperated.

Rio replies cheerfully: “Well, Chips and I have been diligently serving this glorious nation since we were eighteen years old, and you’re all clueless rich kids. So…I think that just about sums it up.”

“I need more arrows,” Daeron says, clutching his compound bow. All the ones he had are now speared through zombies along the river where Jace died. When you snuck away from the farm at dawn, Luke used his binoculars to check the shores; they were still swamped with zombies, even more than the night before. They are pack animals; alone, they are aimless and easily confounded, their memories calamitously short. As part of a group—if they were crows they’d be a murder, if they were camels they’d be a caravan—zombies attract and guide each other, moving symbiotically like planets and moons locked in orbit.

“I think you’re going to have to start making them the old fashioned way, kid,” Rio tells Daeron, accompanied by a rough pat of encouragement on the back.

“What, like with sticks?!”

“Yeah. Use a knife to carve one end to make it pointy and you’re good to go.”

“Love it. Very pioneer.” Aegon holds up a Sony Walkman, pink and covered with Disney stickers, Ava spelled out across the top in glittering rhinestones. “At least I found this. Helaena, do we have any more AA batteries?” She fishes around in her bag and hands him a pair.

Baela gapes at him, but she’s smiling. It’s horrible, it’s absurd, it’s something you can’t help but find a macabre humor in. “Aegon, you cannot use that poor eaten kid’s CD player. You know it’s haunted.”

Aegon sings like a jingle from a commercial: “Little Ava died, RIP. Now I get to listen to my CDs.”

“Oh, that is so fucked up!” Rio cackles.

You say, grinning: “Aegon, I’m really going to miss you when we’re all in heaven at the bowling alley made of clouds and you’re downstairs in the fiery version of the afterlife.”

“Don’t feel bad for me, Chipmunk. You’re the one who’s going to die without ever having an orgasm.”

“You don’t need a man for that, Aegon,” Baela says.

“You definitely don’t,” you agree. Aemond glances over at you, intrigued. You stare dauntlessly back. What? You said you weren’t interested. The corners of his lips curl up in a reticent smile; he looks down to try to hide it. He’s touching his chin again. His cheeks flush pink as his mind wanders.

Rio chuckles. “Oh yeah, I remember your little experimenting phase. Lots of trips to the Spencer’s in the Tysons Corner mall when we were stationed at Anacostia.”

You raise your eyebrows, though you’re not annoyed. “I thought you were never going to tell anybody about that.”

“It’s the end of the world, baby. No time to be shy.” Then Rio asks Aemond: “Since we’re here and it’s quiet, you want to go ahead and check every house that has a car with the fuel cap still closed? There are some minivans and SUVs down at the other end of the street. Even a few gallons of gas will take us farther than days on foot.”

Aegon adds, checking his map: “A half tank would get us all the way to Decatur, Indiana.”

“Yeah, let’s do it,” Aemond says. He offers Baela a hand and helps lift her to her feet. “You guys go ahead, I’ll meet you down at the driveway with the black…what is that, a Honda Odyssey? You know the one, the van in front of the yellow house. Don’t go inside until I get there.”

“Yup!” Aegon agrees as he speeds off, racing Daeron to the house. Rio—not one for sprinting—jogs after them with his Remington in hand, ready to bash rotting skulls in at a moment’s notice. Baela toddles down to the Pacifica to tell Luke and Rhaena the plan, her periwinkle dress billowing in the wind; then they climb down to walk with her. Helaena floats across the sidewalk like a ghost, pausing to pick buttercups that grow up between the cracks in the cement.

Aemond has been waiting until the two of you are alone. “Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, sure.” A few houses down, a female zombie—early-twenties, white bikini top, red Ohio State shorts—staggers across the yard and in her attempt to snag Aegon falls and impales herself on the white picket fence. She is suspended there, clawing and yowling, her blackening intestines and dark clotted blood staining the wood. Aegon takes his time getting into a stance and swings his golf club like he’s at a driving range. He hits her dead-on, caves the front of her face in, takes a few more shots just to be sure.

“I get what’s in Oregon for Rio,” Aemond says. “Sophie, the baby, his parents. But why are you going there?”

“Rio’s my best friend. He might be my only friend who’s still alive. And when we left Saratoga Springs, he made me promise that I wouldn’t let him die alone. So before anything else, I have to make sure he gets to Odessa and finds his family. And then I can figure out what’s next for me. But if it really is safe there, I don’t see why I’d leave. I’ve never wanted to be on my own. Maybe I can end up having a family in Oregon too.”

Aemond rests his elbows on the porch railing. He’s teasing you. “We’re friends, aren’t we? I’m still alive.”

You tease him back. He deserves it. “I’m not sure about you and me.”

“I’d like for us to be friends.”

“Would you?”

“Resoundingly.”

“Maybe I’ll give it a try.”

He considers you. “You know, Kentucky might have been a good place for you to hide out. And it would be a lot closer than Oregon.”

You stand up, throwing on your backpack full of bullets for your Beretta M9s, beef jerky and peanut butter crackers and granola bars, lip balm, bottles of water, Kleenex tissues, Juicy Fruit, miscellaneous treasures from the road, practically worthless trinkets made so impossibly valuable. “We’re done here, right?”

Aemond is disappointed, though not with you. He has committed an error he cannot understand. “Yeah, we’re done.” He walks with you to the yellow house, your sneakers pounding in tandem on the sidewalk, squirrels and rabbits darting through the overgrown lawns, eastern tiger swallowtails swooping between blossoms.

Aegon says when you and Aemond arrive in the driveway, nodding to the once-attractive blonde zombie pawing and licking at the glass of the living room window: “Who wants to take care of Ryan Seacrest?”

“Got it,” Rio replies immediately. He kicks down the front door, macerates the zombie’s skull with the butt of his Remington, then sweeps through the kitchen and dining room searching for any other monsters in need of hasty euthanasia. He doesn’t find any. He drags the corpse outside to lessen the stench of decomposition and opens all the downstairs windows.

“Commence Operation Find The Minivan Keys,” Aegon says as he rummages through drawers and cabinets. Helaena joins him, seeking so delicately she is almost soundless, her large blue eyes flicking from place to place. Luke, Rhaena, and Daeron stay outside to keep watch. Baela collapses into a recliner in one corner of the living room and is dozing within seconds.

“I’ll clear the upstairs,” Aemond volunteers, then asks you: “Watch my blind side?”

You can’t help but smile; it is a generous invitation. It is an honor. You shadow him up the staircase of olive green carpet, through the hallway, into each of the three bedrooms and one full bath. When you are certain it is safe—exploring the back of every closet, under every bed—you and Aemond begin searching for weapons and car keys. The main bedroom is like a forest: blankets pattered with trees and deer, wood furniture, paintings of the Battle of the Wilderness during the Civil War. You investigate every drawer of the nightstand and dresser, then go to leave.

“Wait.” Aemond peeks out into the hallway to make sure no one else is around, then closes the bedroom door. Your eyes track him quizzically, shy skittish optimism, your head tilted, your fingers finding the dresser behind you, cool rust-hued oak, a color like dried blood. You slip off your backpack. Then Aemond comes to you like a returning comet—once in a lifetime, once in an eon—and holds your face in his hands as he kisses you, soft, careful, unhurried, then turning famished, sweltering incurable hunger. You lift yourself up onto the dresser; your thighs have parted, and Aemond is between them, still fully clothed and leaving yours in place too, so innocent, so spotless, and yet in your mind you are imagining what it would feel like to lie beneath him as he opens and fills you, to be so irredeemably close to another person, to watch and listen as he teaches you what to do.

Right here? Right now?

It suddenly strikes you as too soon; you want this but you aren’t ready. Your heart races, you can’t catch your breath. “I am obligated to make you aware that according to your own calculations, I am likely dangerously fertile at the moment.”

Aemond grins as he bites playfully at your lower lip. “Relax. We’re not rounding all the bases this time.”

His voice evaporates your panic, lulls your rushing blood. Your muscles turn to seamless rippling water. Your bones crave the weight of his. “Yeah, totally, good, that’s good. Just making sure.”

“I want to touch you. Can I touch you?”

In reply, you unbutton your denim shorts and pull down the zipper, slowly, very slowly, your gaze linked with his like torn flesh stitched together. He’s close enough to kiss you again, but he doesn’t; he takes your chin gently and turns your face to the side, admiring the curve of your jaw. Then his lips are on your throat and his right hand is skimming down the front of your shirt, over your belly, under your shorts. You gasp—the foreignness of another’s hand here, the disorienting vulnerability—and Aemond stops.

“No, I’m okay,” you assure him, smiling. You kiss him deeply, your fingertips tracing his scar, the work of his careful, gifted hands. Aemond does not flinch away. He presses his face into your palm, offering himself fully, taking shelter in you. And everything other than him—this house, this world, this age, this westward journey, this apocalypse—goes quiet, quiet, quiet, like when you are shooting, like when you are hammering nails under the sun. Aemond makes everything horrifying disappear. It is the greatest sort of magic you can imagine.

“So,” he says. “What did you buy at Spencer’s?”

“Green Day t-shirts.”

“Sure.”

“And some, uh, battery-powered companionship.”

“Hm.” Aemond’s fingers are moving against you; it is increasingly difficult to respond to his questions. “Internal or external? Or both?”

“Oh, definitely…um…I stayed on the outside, mostly. I tried…oh wow, okay…inside a few times, but I didn’t get much out of it. It was mostly just uncomfortable.”

“No problem. We’ll work up to that.”

“Will we?” You hope you don’t sound too desperate. The warm coiling pleasure is swelling, strengthening, begging to be released, loosed like an arrow or fired like a bullet. Aemond’s fingers slip through your wetness, circling and pressing down harder, insistently, masterfully. It feels different than using toys: it is more gradual, less sharp, helplessly overpowering.

“That’s my plan. If you’ll allow it.”

You exhale a threadbare ghost of a whimper against his throat and then reach for his shorts, fumbling blindly for the button and zipper.

“No, don’t do anything,” Aemond murmurs, soft and pleading, almost like a prayer. “Let me take care of you. Please let me feel like I’m doing something right.”

“You’re doing a lot right at the moment.” You’re close now, your breaths quick and panting. You throw your arms around the back of Aemond’s neck and fold into him, feeling the thudding pulse of his carotid artery beneath your fingertips, the softness of his lips and unscarred cheek as he nuzzles the side of your face. It’s so quiet, but there’s no need to fill the silence, no words, no uneasiness. You’ve always wondered what you would have to do to please a man, what premeditated motions and praises you would offer him, niceties, perhaps even lies. But this is effortless. The shimmering golden glow like sunlight is here, and he is the one drawing it out of you, water from a well, blood from a tapped vein. The only sound you make is a shuddering inhale, but Aemond knows immediately. He closes his eyes, relieved, proud, beaming, resting his forehead against yours.

He asks: “Can I try…?”

“Yes, do it, please, I want you to.”

Aemond’s hand shifts between your thighs, moves lower, and there is a sudden jolt of pain like a pinch, like a bite. You wince before you can think to disguise it. Immediately, Aemond retreats, kissing your lips and your cheeks. “It’s okay, it’s okay. You were incredible.”

You reach for his shorts again and unbutton them. “Show me what to do.”

“You don’t have to—”

“I know I don’t have to. I want to.”

He takes a shaky breath, drags his tongue over the fingers he touched you with, moans so quietly you can barely hear him. He frees himself from his clothes: long and thick, harder than you believed flesh could be. Aemond grasps your hand and places it, demonstrates how to move and how much pressure to apply. Then his own hands drop to grip the edge of the dresser as you stroke him. You nip at his throat, his jaw, the shell of his ear; you coax euphoric sighs from him, feel a high in your bloodstream like something illicit and lethal.

“I’ll be honest,” you say. “I have no idea how that’s ever going to fit inside me.”

Aemond chuckles, distracted. “Women stretch, just like men do. It might take time, but it will happen. And I’ll make sure it’s as good as it can be.”

“I want it to be you, Aemond,” you whisper, and you can feel him throbbing in your hand. “You and no one else. Teach me how to do everything.” Make the world go away.

He gasps as he finishes, a thunderous trembling all over, a gush of white heat that flows over your hand. Curious, you lift it to your mouth. “Don’t—!”

But he’s too late; you lick him from your palm and then recoil at the taste, pungent, bitter, salty.

Aemond laughs hysterically, kissing your mouth and then your forehead. “Oh God, I’m sorry, I should have warned you.”

“I hope I taste better than that.”

“You definitely do.”

You peer up at him, dazed, dreamy. “I really like you, Aemond.”

“You can’t fall in love with me.” It is a taunt; it is a warning.

“If I do, I won’t let you know,” you promise. “You’re on first watch tonight, aren’t you?”

“I am.”

“Then I’ll stay up too.”

“Rio already volunteered to do it.”

“Really, I don’t mind.”

“No,” Aemond purrs, brushing your hair back from your face, marveling at you. “I can’t have you sleep deprived. You’re our best shot.”

“I can handle it.”

“You want to be honest with each other, you want to communicate? I like knowing you’re rested. I like knowing you’re safe.”

The door flies open with a bang; Aegon stands in the threshold. “We’ve got three-quarters of a tank of gas!” he announces ecstatically, jangling car keys in the air. Then he registers what he’s looking at. “Come outside when you’re done fucking.” Aegon slams the door shut; you hear his Sperry Bahama sneakers drumming on the staircase.

“I guess we should go,” you say reluctantly, untangling yourself from Aemond and sliding down from the dresser.

“Wait.” He gets a water bottle out of your backpack, soaks a handful of Kleenex tissues, and gives them to you to clean yourself off. When you’re done, he wipes himself down too. “Make sure you always take a piss after any…activities. We don’t have antibiotics if you get a kidney infection.”

“I know, doctor. I’ve read Reddit threads.”

“Not a doctor. Just a lowly intern.”

“You seem like an anatomy expert to me,” you say, then head downstairs.

The black Honda Odyssey is idling as the last of the supplies are loaded, the windows down, Baela adjusting the driver’s seat so she can accommodate her belly. Everyone piles inside and she steers the minivan out of the driveway and onto Trux Street. Aegon pops one of his mixtapes into the CD player. The song that pipes through the speakers is Prayer In C:

“Yeah, you never said a word

You didn’t send me no letter

Don’t think I could forgive you…”

“So,” Baela says casually, grinning at you in the rearview mirror. “How was the sex?”

“Stop,” Aemond begs, his face going red, smiling involuntarily.

You say placidly: “I appreciate your interest, but that’s not what we were doing.”

Rio turns to Aegon. “Do you know what sex looks like or not, dumbass?”

“They were doing something, okay! Those were not virginal activities!”

“See, our world is slowly dying

I’m not wasting no more time

Don’t think I could believe you…”

You rest your head on Aemond’s shoulder and watch the abandoned houses pass by in a blur.

~~~~~~~~~~

The Odyssey arrives in Decatur, Indiana just a few hours before sunset, gas to spare and plenty of time to find a safe place to spend the night. You break into a house on the outskirts of the west side of the city: a rancher with a screened-in porch, beach décor, bowls of seashells on tables and spray-painted aluminum dolphins on the wall. Baela plummets into sleep immediately, sharing the largest bed with Rhaena and Luke. Helaena writes in her spider notebook for a while before curling up on the living room couch, Daeron sprawled on the floor beside her with a couch cushion for a pillow. Aegon is in what was once a child’s bedroom; you have the bedroom of a teenage girl, perhaps spirited away to friends or relatives in some other part of the country, perhaps dead, perhaps lurching around out in the night somewhere, mad and murderous. Everything is purple, the walls, the blankets, the stuffed animals that form a mountain on the other half of the bed.

You are exhausted, but you can’t sleep. Your thoughts won’t stop racing, stop craving. Aemond and Rio are in rocking chairs out on the porch, keeping watch and working their way through the case of Sunny D they found in the kitchen pantry. You go out to join them, then stop at the screen door that separates the linoleum-floored dining room from the porch. They are discussing you. You sit, legs crossed, listening in the dim silvery light, stars and moon and nothing else.

Aemond is saying: “She doesn’t talk much about where she came from.”

Rio chuckles, a low baritone rumble. “She doesn’t talk much in general. But yeah, don’t expect any juicy revelations. That’s not how she does things.”

“Do you know what her life was like before?”

“I know some of it. I don’t know a lot.” Rio pauses; you can envision him shrugging and running his fingers through his dark curly hair, weighing what you would be okay with him sharing. “I know that when I met her, her mother was calling all the time telling her to send money home. And she’d do it, because she felt like she didn’t have a choice. Then she never had cash for drinks or anything, I was always paying her way, and one day I was finally like ‘Chips, how much do you actually have in your account right now?’ because I figured she must be down real low. Jesus Christ, I couldn’t believe it when she showed me the balance, she had like three bucks left until her next paycheck, and of course then her mother would be calling again. She sent tens of thousands of dollars home that disappeared, poof, gone, without a trace.”

Aemond sounds stunned. “What did they spend it on?”

“Who the fuck knows with those people. Lottery tickets and cigs, probably. Trips to Virginia Beach. Benny Hinn Bibles. And when she tried to hit the brakes, her mother and siblings got nasty, calling constantly and telling her how awful she was and that they were going to starve. I convinced her to stop picking up the phone, but it took forever. I think she knew by then she was going to have to cut them off if she didn’t want to end up back there, but she needed somebody to give her permission. That was my job. As far as I know, she hasn’t spoken to anyone from home in years. Hell, Sophie was her AOP.”

“AOP…?”

“Oh, sorry, Arrears of Pay. It’s the person you designate to get all your benefits if you die in the service. I guess she figured that if our base got bombed or our plane went down or something, at least it would end up with my family.”

Aemond is quiet, thirty seconds, a minute, maybe two. “Obviously my circumstances were a lot different. But I understand having to choose between other people’s expectations and yourself.”

“Why are you asking me all this?”

Another pause; silent thoughts under glimmering stars and the shrieks of short-lived summer cicadas. “She takes me out of this world for a while. She makes the guilt and the fear go quiet. I want to know everything about her.”

When Rio speaks, he is gentle, compassionate. “The hard truth is, the details aren’t my business. They aren’t yours either. When people enlist, they’re starting over. It’s a Get Out Of Jail Free card. It gets them away from home, but it also gets them away from whoever they were before.”

“She said something like that once. Back at Fort Indiantown Gap.”

“It’s a polite way of telling you to shut up.” You know from his voice that Rio is smiling. “If she wants to forget her old life, you have to let her. If you care about her, you’ll want her to be able to move on.”

“I care.”

“She likes you,” Rio says. “But you could still fuck it up. She’s good at finding reasons not to trust people.”

“It’s a bad way to live.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I know. I’m the same way.”

There is quiet now, only the sounds of Sunny D being slurped and cicadas screaming through the darkness. You have intruded enough. You stand and walk back down the hallway, then remember something Aegon said outside a Burger King in Pennsylvania. You go to his bedroom, illuminated by a flashlight pointed towards the ceiling, casting long deformed shadows.

Aegon is lying on his back with his head hanging upside down over the side of the bed—dinosaur blankets, bright red and blue pillows—puffing on a cigarette and listening to his new CD player, previously Ava’s, with both earbuds in. Then he spots you. Still upside down, Aegon hits the pause button on his CD player and says: “Hey, Microchip.”

“What did you mean about people pretending to love you?”

He smirks, shrugs, takes a lazy drag off his Marlboro Gold. “Every friend I’ve ever had has used me for money, mansions, yachts. Every girl I’ve ever fucked has wanted something in return. Mother prefers Daeron, Grandfather prefers Helaena, Criston prefers Aemond, and Father prefers his real estate empire and his model ships. Can you imagine loving a miniature replica of the Titanic more than your own children?”

“No,” you say, honestly and with heavy, gore-red pity. “You shouldn’t have to go back to people who make you feel that way. I wouldn’t.”

Aegon takes another drag as he watches you. “Aemond mentioned you’re from Kentucky.”

“I am.”

“But you won’t be returning.”

“No.”

Aegon nods, like you’ve answered an important question. “Aemond talks about you a lot. It’s cute. It doesn’t make me sick like when he was with Alys. Playing her games, breaking himself in half to follow her rules.”

You peer down at your fingernails, short and functional and unglamorous. You don’t want to hear about the older woman who was his lover, his obsession, his cure, his venom. She was poisonous to him, surely, and yet she was experienced where you are uninitiated and unversed, she had a PhD to compare with your high school diploma. Surely in those seven years he shared moments with her that were divine. Surely even a curse is woven from magic.

“Anyway.” Aegon rolls over, props himself up on his elbows, and extinguishes his cigarette in an empty plastic Sunny D bottle. “I have no particular affinity for my old life or the beach house in California, but that’s where Aemond is going. And I have to be where he is. I have to make sure he’s alright, you know?”

Yes, you do know; that’s how you feel about Rio. “What’s it like? That house up on a cliff all by itself?”

Aegon grins, like he’s caught you in a mouthwateringly compromising position. “Why? You thinking about visiting someday?”

“Just wondering.”

He squirms over to one side of the bed to make room for you, popping in an earbud. “Come listen with me.”

“What is it?”

“Just come over here!”

You cross the room and kick off your sneakers, climb onto the bed, lie down and take the other earbud that Aegon offers you. What you hear when you listen is Don McLean’s American Pie. “Oh, this is ancient.”

“It’s a classic. I wish I’d gotten to live through the 70s.”

“We’ll reinvent them when the world starts up again. Disco and lava lamps and shag carpets. We’ll shoot heroin and listen to vinyl records. Jimmy Carter can be president if he’s still alive.”

Aegon snickers, and then he sings along, hushed but surprisingly melodic, solemn, tender. He’s looking at you expectantly, eyebrows raised, nodding, beckoning for you to join him. You adamantly refuse. You don’t sing in front of anybody, not even Rio.

“I met a girl who sang the blues

And I asked her for some happy news

But she just smiled and turned away

I went down to the sacred store

Where I’d heard the music years before

But the man there said the music wouldn’t play…”

Aegon shoves your shoulder. “I could be dead tomorrow. Don’t ignore me.”

Self-consciously, but smiling a little bit, you begin to sing with him, so softly you can barely hear yourself. Aegon is beaming, small even white teeth beneath sparkling eyes, a murky cool blue like storm clouds, like the ocean, waves lapping at the shores of Diego Garcia, the Gulf of Tadjoura off the east coast of Djibouti, Corpus Christi Bay, places you once never knew existed.

“And in the streets, the children screamed

The lovers cried and the poets dreamed

But not a word was spoken

The church bells all were broken

And the three men I admire most

The Father, Son, and the Holy Ghost

They caught the last train for the coast

The day the music died.”

[linked-maze]

.:It's about Time:. part 1

A story behind how Navi and Time found each other! enjoy!

It was a cold hazy morning in the forest, after a whole night of rain. The small beam of light from the morning sun was shining through the leaves, warming up the air that was fresh and with an earthy smell. A tiny blue fairy emerged from a hole in a great redwood tree. Butt in the air, she yawned and stretched her whole fuzzy body, shaking the sleepiness out of her and flapping her wings awake. She raised her snout to sniff the air and letting out a sigh of relief. After months of winter, spring was finally settling in, and Navi couldn’t be happier about that. The forest was alive with all her favorite snacks, spiders, grasshoppers, and more! So, no time to spare! She set out to search the environment for some breakfast.

Navi flew through the cold air, the sun hitting her from above. The floor of the deep forest was filled with big old stones with beautiful carvings all over the place with moss and ferns covering the ground completely. A river close by, water flowing steadily. Navi took a glance for any danger in the area, but all seemed fine. She decided to start her hunt here. Flying down to land on some of the wet stones, almost slipping but caught her balance. She skipped along from stone to stone, stopping a bit to sip some water from a nearby plant that was dripping from the rain. Then, in the distance before her, she saw a delicious grasshopper! Navi ducked down quickly, and without making a sound she sneaked up to the prey behind the ferns, slowly approaching, ready to pounce any second now. However, suddenly a disturbance from the distance echoed throughout the deep forest. The grasshopper hopped away in fright. Navi attempted to go for the kill, but it was too late. It got away. “Tch…” Navi sighed in disappointment. She flew up to one of the tree branches high above, away from any danger. What in the world was that sound? Monsters did live in these woods, maybe it was one of those awful wolfos striding around the area, looking for their own prey. Or maybe it was one of those atrocious stalfos beating up a tree somewhere for fun. Suddenly the sound was back! It sounded like thunder rumbling! This was no wolfos or stalfos. This was something huge and dangerous. Navis curiosity got the best of her, and she set out to solve this. Navi got closer and closer to the mysterious rumbling. She flies above an ancient, overgrown temple ruin. Walls, Pillars, and statues broken down over time, greenery taken over the place completely. She has been here many times for the amazing apple trees that grow here. It has always been such a peaceful place. But not today, birds flying away in flocks, frightened by the ruckus. It sounded like a huge fight was going on!

Navi quietly landed on one of the big ancient statues, hiding behind it to get a peek in on what was going on, but nothing could have prepared her for what was making all that sound. It was a Goron! Out in the middle of the forest throwing around huge rocks, destroying them into small pieces. The Goron looked angry yet saddened, mostly getting his frustrations out. What was a Goron doing so far from home? Was he lost? Did he lose something? Whatever it was, he was making a commotion. Navi rolled her eyes. She had no time for this. She was about to set off again, but something stopped her. She took a glance at the Goron. Something about him seemed familiar but she couldn’t put her paw on what it was… it was like she had seen those eyes before, the right eye barring a huge scar across it. Navis memories sparked for a moment, the eyes resembling her dear old friend, but there was no way this was Link, this was a Goron. Navi felt a little bad stalking this poor Goron. So, she decided to let him be. He clearly didn’t want to be disturbed. Why else would he do his outburst deep in the forest far from home. Besides, Navi still needed some breakfast. She set off as quietly as she came. Back home, Navi was digging for worms in some dirt right underneath the redwood tree. It was no grasshopper and Navi loved the hunt of it all, but it was tasty, nonetheless. continued her day with small tasks and gathering fresh leaves for her nest. Walking down to a little puddle nearby to wash her paws clean after an evening of work, she couldn’t stop thinking about the Goron. And Link… it has been years now, but she still missed him deeply. The day she left him after completing the Dekus trees dying request, she was supposed to move on with her life. Finally reuniting with her great fairy and all her sisters in the forest. Living life with all her sisters was nice but she felt empty inside every single night, wondering what Link was up to and if he was okay… so one day she decided to go look for him! The hero she was meant to be with! But… he was nowhere to be seen. No one in Hyrule knew where he was. But that didn’t stop her! She searched for days, weeks, months! But with no luck… It was like he was gone… dead. Navis hope grew thin over the years, and she settled down in the deep forest, Abandoning her quest. But no matter what she did, she could never let him go in her heart.  The day went by, and the sun started to set at around dinner time. Navi laying at the opening of her redwood tree hole, still in thought, and was not feeling like hunting. She felt restless and couldn’t focus. So, she decided to go to sleep early this time. Letting her mind rest. to be continued~

[darkprincessw]

And if I had a match for every lie

and every attempt to deny, I'd strike a few.

I am the walls, the silent halls

My jacket at your sisters wedding, navy blue.

[lovecrime2]

Hannibal Lecter x Reader

summary: you begin therapy with Dr. Lecter, a man who you quickly learn much from. from his intellectuality, to the darkness hidden in the furthest parts of his mind, you become enraptured with him. will he feel the same about you? therapy sessions turn into exchanging books with notes, cooking together, and seeing more of each other in ways you both never thought possible. a love story.

authors note: hello!! this fic will have multiple chapters and i’m so excited to start this! it’s also on a03. and im creating a playlist for this!!

Chapter I: Prima

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـ

“Dr. Lecter is ready to see you now, miss.” the polite receptionist says, with a smile sent your way. It’s no more than a flash of positivity before she turns back to her paper work, reflected by her thin framed glasses. As her eyes scanned over the work, turning back to frantically look over her desk, presumably searching for something, she gave off an obvious air of worry. Perhaps she was new.

You were too.

Your first day of therapy. Well, your first day of therapy with this new psychiatrist. It wasn’t something you were exactly frantically nervous about- as the poor polite receptionist was. You’d been to therapy before. You were accustomed to the shallow invasion and prodding of the mind. This time, your hope was that this new Dr. Lecter would be unique. Different.

You’d heard many good things about him. Ranging from his written work and studies, to his success with patients. And after the worsening state of your mind and the life you had built around you, you decided that it was time to try again. So far, you weren’t disappointed. The office was classy. Nice chairs were set in the waiting room, where you had sat for some time. There was tasteful art, quiet classical music in the background. Bach, you had guessed. Other than the receptionist, it had emitted an air of class and calmness.

You flashed a smile back at the receptionist, returning the politeness.

“Thank you very much,” you replied.

You weren’t sure if she heard given how diligently she was scanning her desk currently. But it was of no matter, you had been polite, it was the most you could do. You stepped up to a wooden door, unsure if you’d have to knock. Before you could, the door was opened, and Dr. Lecter was revealed to you.

He was handsome. You weren’t one to judge or weigh value off of looks, but you would give him that simple statement. Looks were not the most important thing to you, and you certainly were not meaning it in a romantic way. But he was handsome. The eyes that quickly met yours were brown, maybe with a hint of hazel. His hair was brown as well, it shone in the light from his office. He wore a navy blue plaid suit, giving him an obvious air of seriousness, of class and respect. His lips curled into a smile, and yours followed suit.

“Miss L/N, it’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance.” he spoke, his voice was rich and soothing.

“Dr. Lecter, I’ve heard many wonderful things about you and your work. It’s a pleasure to make your acquaintance as well.” you replied calmly, mirroring his niceties and charm. He had a quiet suave demeanor. As if on instinct, you both reached your hands out for a handshake. More niceties. This doctor was very formal. You appreciated that. As your hands touched you felt his eyes scan you quickly. Almost like an eagle searching a field for prey. Though, there wasn’t malice behind this look.

“Please, do come in.” he said, leading you into his large room. And what a large room it was.

It had a mostly grey color palette, with the exception of the one wall which was a dark red. To your right was a large wall, with two large red and white striped curtains. To your left, a desk, obviously a professional one. Lamps and books and art decorated the top. Further back to your left was another desk and a chair, but nothing was on this one. Behind that, a fireplace. The room was lined with cabinets and bookshelves, and art (specifically paintings) were anything but scarce. Right in front of you however, were two chairs facing each other. And there was a ladder, on the wall behind them, leading up to another level of the room. This one was lined with books of all shapes and sizes and colors. You took note of the other items in the room. Your eyes scanned from the couch against the back wall, to the couch in front of the windows. The room seemed lightly dull at first, but the more you gazed, the more points of color stood out to you.

After having visually scoured the room, you summarized that the collection of books, European furniture, and art was not simply the doing of the building’s hypothetical interior designer. By his outfit and the look of the room, Dr. Lecter was a man of intellectuality, power, curiosity, and ambition. He was impressive.

“Have a seat, Miss L/N.” he said, gesturing to the two seats in the middle of the room- each sat directly across from the other. Each had small tables next to them, but one had a book (presumably for taking notes on patients) and a box of tissues. You assumed the seat that the book and tissue box adorned table belonged to: was his. So you took the other seat, smoothing the bottom half of your clothing as you sat down. He took a seat across from you, crossing his legs and folding his hands neatly in his lap.

“I have no doubt you know why you’re here.” he said politely. He was direct, eyes still piercing into you. You were afraid to look away. You wanted to maintain the eye contact but at the same time, the socially nervous part of you longed to break it, longed to gaze around the sophisticated room instead of facing his perceptive gaze.

“Yes, Doctor.” you replied, finally working up the courage to break the mural stare and look down as you smiled at him. He returned a brief smile, and nodded once.

“So then, I hope you won’t mind if I list off the reasons you put for requesting my psychiatric assistance which led to us meeting today?” he inquired, taking his notebook from the small table next to him.

“Not at all, go ahead.” you gave him an encouraging nod and he opened his book. As he looked over a page, a realization came to you. You realized how intimate the placing of his chairs was. You mirrored him and put one leg over the other. You wondered if this was a tactic of his to create a sense of connection, equality. Interesting.

“You have emotional regulation issues, accompanied by social anxiety. Past traumas, which I’m sure are accompanied by self-image problems, am I correct?” he asked at the end of his statement.

“Yes,” you said, pausing a moment. There was some more, but this was only the first session. You hated the way it sounded so labeled when it was later out like that, so shallow. Realizing your answer might’ve seemed curt, you rushed to say more. “Yes, that’s all correct.”

He set his book down on the side table and looked at you for a moment. The thought crossed your mind that he might be waiting for you to speak, you were about to say something when he spoke at last.

“How do you feel right now, at this very particular moment, Miss L/N?” he asked you, eyes endlessly boring into you.

“I feel,” you hesitated, trying to come up with the right words. “Comfortable and welcomed. Yet nervous.”

“I’m glad you feel comfortable and welcomed, I try to provide sufficient hospitality for those in my care. Though, tell me, why do you feel nervous?” he asked.

“I’ve just met someone new. Someone who will be peering into my mind, learning the most personal parts of me. It’s an odd thought that a man I met a few minutes ago will come to know my mind so deeply.” you replied, watching Hannibal process your answer. He had a good poker face.

“Are you afraid of what I might uncover in the depths of your mind?” he asked.

“I think everyone’s a little afraid of what can be perceived in the most personal parts of their mentality. We all have only so much we express. To the eye it may seem to show enough, but there’s so much hidden where we store our deepest thoughts.” you replied. You liked the knowledgeable banter.

“Knowing those parts of you is a fundamental aspect to your treatment, as it is to any patient. I am not here to judge, or to exploit. I am here to come to know your being and attempt to help it in a way that is beneficial to your mental well-being.” he replied.

“You make a good point, Doctor.” you replied, flashing him a smile. He returned it, and opened his book.

“Well then, shall we begin?” he asked, his eyes still focused on yours.

“Of course.” you replied.

And so began your session with Hannibal Lecter, your new psychiatrist.

ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ ﮩ٨ـﮩﮩﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـﮩﮩ٨ـ

[sebastianstangirl01]

One Man’s Loss is Another Man’s Gain

Title: One Man’s Loss is Another Man’s Gain

Pairing: Jake Seresin x Wife Reader

Warnings: Language, Fluff, Bradley being put in his place, Protective Jake

Summary: When the best pilots in the navy get called back to Top Gun for a special detachment and it’s learned that Pete Maverick Mitchell is the instructor Bradley Bradshaw looks forward to seeing his old crush again so he can finally confess his feelings, Y/N Mitchell. Too bad Jake Seresin already swept her off her feet and made her Mrs. Seresin.

Requested: Yes!

When you first heard about this special suicide mission it’s safe to say you were terrified for your husband and father. You and Jake had been married for around 3 years now and you’re currently 7 months pregnant with your first child. The idea of being left a widow killing you inside, but not as much as the chance of your son growing up without his father.

You and your father Pete Mitchell have a strong relationship, he was the only constant in your life for a long time after your mother abandoned you on his doorstep. Growing up you and your dad spent a lot of time with Carole and Bradley, Goose passed away 3 years before you were born and Carole and Pete sometimes joked that Goose sent you to them because he knew they needed you.

Carole was the only mother figure you ever had in your life and when she passed away when you were 16 it rocked your whole world, as far as you were concerned she helped raise you and you loved her like a daughter loves her mother.

Bradley. He was a different story, though you’re 6 years younger than him you two grew up as best friends. He was your first crush when you turned 13 and actually noticed how cute he was, but he was in college then and was always going out to parties with college girls, so you never saw him much. When you were 15 you finally realized how dumb your crush was, he was 21 and you were still basically a child playing softball and hanging out with your friends at the movies and the beach. For your own sanity you let the crush go and just focused on being happy to see him when he came home on breaks.

One day everything changed though. Bradley had written you off completely out of the blue, you tried getting in touch with him but your calls wouldn’t go through, you even tried the old fashioned way and sent him a few letters but never got a response. You tried asking your dad what happened but he refused to give you any details. As much as it hurt, you refused to let yourself feel bad and reach out over and over again when you got nothing in return. So you just stopped trying.

You went to college at UCLA where you played softball all four years and got your teaching degree in elementary education, you moved back home to North Beach where you got a job as a 1st grade teacher at Miramar Elementary School on base, thanks to a few strings pulled by your Uncle Ice to insure you’d be close to home.

You met Jake at the hard deck when you were 23 and he was 26, you had gone out to spend some time with Penny and your dad had just gotten back from a deployment so you all were celebrating. Jake had just graduated from Top Gun at the top of his class and came out with a few of his fellow graduates to celebrate. When you two locked eyes the attraction was instant.

Jake spent almost a month trying to get you to go out with him, you had heard of Jake Hangman Seresin’s reputation from your dad who heard it from Uncle Ice. So you wanted to play hard to get and make sure he actually wanted to be with you and not just get into your pants. He proved himself though when he took you out for a picnic on the beach followed up by a walk on the board walk with some ice cream.

You two dated for around 3 years before getting married, you had a small intimate ceremony with just your family and a few close friends. You two lived in a old fashioned farm house and turned it into your dream house, about a year into your marriage you adopted a golden retriever puppy from the pound named Lady and a tabby cat named Wendy and you two were fine with just being animal parents for a little while.

You spent these last 3 years of marriage building your family home. You and Jake decided to live permanently in San Diego regardless of his deployments. Jake worked as hard as he could for the Navy making a name for himself, while you worked just as hard at your teaching job welcoming kids into your class year after year who left feeling like your very own children. Maverick has his hangar around 20 minutes away from your house and you all have Sunday dinners every week without fail.

When you found out you were pregnant you were surprised but nonetheless thrilled, sure you two weren’t actively trying for a baby but you weren’t really doing anything to avoid pregnancy either. You immediately went to the doctor and got checked out learning that you were 8 weeks pregnant and left with a wide smile and some ultrasound pictures. When Maverick found out he was going to be a grandpa he just about passed out from excitement. But nothing beats Jake’s reaction when he found out he was going to be a father.

You had been anxiously waiting for Jake to get back from training, you found out about the pregnancy around a week ago and you were dying to tell your husband but wanted it to be memorable.

You brainstormed and then remembered the two things he loved almost as much as you. Your animals. You’ve seen other people use their animals as a pregnancy announcement and knew that this was the way to go.

You ordered Lady a thin sweater that read “Big Sister” and Wendy a collar that had baby booties on it since you knew better than to try to put your cat into a sweater, learning from past mistakes. You also found three of the cutest onesies at target, one read “my best friend’s have paws” the second one read “my daddy is a pilot” and the last one read “I love mommy and daddy”. You of course had to get all three, and you wanted to make a box to put them in so you got your pregnancy test and ultrasound picture and put it in the box on top of the folded onesies.

Jake is suppose to be home at 7 and it’s currently 6:50, you felt butterflies in your stomach as you sat on the couch with Wendy resting on the back of the couch near your shoulder and Lady laying across your lap asleep, with the box laying on the coffee table. You were excited but nervous about Jake’s reaction, you knew regardless he would be excited but you may have to scoop his unconscious form off the floor before the excitement hits him.

Before you could think much longer the door opened and both animals lifted their heads to look towards the door as Jake stepped inside. You quickly grabbed your phone and pressed record , wanting to get his reaction on video before urging Lady off your lap.

“Hey baby! How was your day?” You asked standing up

“It was something. I’m just glad to be home with my girls.” Jake smiled setting his bag down at the front door.

“We’re glad your home too. I have a surprise for you.” You smiled making Jake cock his brow

“What? It’s not my birthday, it’s not our anniversary, I didn’t get you anything.” Jake stressed making you chuckle

“This is for me too. Lady go see daddy!” You nudged Lady in Jake’s direction and the dog immediately stumbled towards Jake who squatted down with open arms while he was distracted by the dog you grabbed the box and held it patiently

“Lady girl! There’s my girl! What does mommy have you wearing? What is this?” Jake asked in a baby voice making you smile as he gripped the fabric to try and read it, Wendy had made her way over to the two and was rubbing her head against Jake’s leg purring. “Big Sister?”

You could see the gears in Jake’s head turning as he stared at the sweater before looking down at Wendy’s collar, his head snapped up towards you with wide glossy eyes.

“Baby? Is this what I think it is? Are you pregnant? Am I going to be a dad?” Jake asked slowly standing to his feet

“Open the box.” You smiled feeling tears burn in your eyes as you handed him the box. “Daddy.”

“Oh my god.” Jake mumbled as he looked at the contents of the box. “Oh my god! Oh my god! Oh baby!”

Jake carefully but quickly sat the box down on the ground before pulling you into his arms making you laugh tearfully as he spun you around.

“Oh my god! We’re having a baby! We’re having a baby! There is actually a baby inside of you right now!” Jake exclaimed cupping your face as your tears spilled over. “I love you so much. This is so perfect, I love you.”

“I love you too.” You smiled pulling him into a kiss

Jake has doted on you your whole pregnancy, he’s been to every doctor’s appointment, any craving you have he’s out the door to get it, any ache or pain he’s giving you a entire body massage, when your hormones are too much he holds you tight and litters your face with kisses, and pregnancy sex is out of this world.

You’d just hit your 7 month mark and felt like a whale, your ankles were swollen, your back always aches, your breasts are sore and tender, and you officially can’t stand or walk without supporting your bump because it feels like the weight of your bump is going to send you to the floor. You had recently just had a small gender reveal with your dad and some of Jake’s family and learned that you were having a little boy.

Jake has been busy training for the mission and your dad has been busy being the instructor for the mission, which has led to some long days and nights with Lady and Wendy as your company. You had heard from Jake’s nightly complaining that your estranged best friend Bradley Bradshaw is back for the mission and of course they’ve been butting heads, Jake is fiercely protective of you and after learning how hurt you were when Bradley tossed you to the side Jake made it his personal mission to be the biggest ass to him he could be.

Your dad had called you and told you about the fight between Jake and Bradley and how your name had been brought up, and that Jake bragged about how you were his. You smacked Jake on the head that night but quickly got over it when he brought up the idea of a hot bath and a back rub.

Today Penny had practically begged you to come see her, she was your favorite of all your dads conquests growing up and have always kept in touch she was more your mother than your actual mother. You hesitantly said yes, not really feeling like leaving the comfort of your bed but wanting to spend some time with her.

You took a shower and washed your hair and body, since your pregnancy makes you feel sweaty and disgusting at every moment a shower did you some good. You were feeling more energized after your shower so you even did your makeup routine and did a cute braid in your hair. You got dressed in a flowered blue sundress and some sandals and put your regular jewelry on, barley managing to get your wedding band on your swollen finger.

Since Penny loves Lady you decided to bring her with you, and Jake’s been training her since the beginning of your pregnancy to be your watch dog, a job that Lady takes very seriously. You got her in her harness and leash before grabbing your purse and keys and walking out to your white Rang Rover. You opened the passengers side door and patted the seat.

“Up Lady! Good girl!” You smiled giving her a treat and kissing the top of her head securing the leash to the seatbelt before closing the door and walking around to the drivers side.

You drove towards the hard deck with with windows down bobbing your head to your Taylor Swift playlist, the breeze blowing some of your flyaways into your lipgloss.

When you pulled into the hard deck you furrowed your brows when you saw both your dads bike and Jake’s truck in the parking lot. You got out of the car and walked around grabbing Lady’s leash and getting her out of the car before you two walked inside.

“Pen! Penny!” You called out seeing the bar empty

“Out here!” Penny called from the back deck

Lady jerked on the leash at Penny’s voice and you chuckled lightly before dropping the leash letting the energetic dog run out the back door.

“Lady!” Penny exclaimed as you walked outside seeing the golden retriever giving the woman some love. “Hey sweetheart, how you feelin?”

“Pregnant. Very pregnant.” You chuckled taking a seat beside her. “Whatcha doing out here?”

“Just taking in the view.” Penny smirked and you furrowed your brows before following her gaze to see the aviators on the beach playing football

“Oh. That’s why dad and Jake’s bike and truck are out front. I thought they snuck away to day drink.” You said making Penny chuckle

“Nope. They’ve been at it for about an hour. Jake’s already laid Rooster out twice.” Penny raised her brow and you chuckled

“That man. I told him not to be a dick, I swear he holds a grudge worse than any woman I’ve ever met.” You shook your head playing your hands on your swollen belly. “Your daddy’s a little bit of a drama Queen.”

Penny chuckled and turned her head back to the team of aviators and smiled when she saw them walking towards them.

“Looks like they’re heading this way.” Penny nudged your shoulder making you look up

Lady perked up when she first caught sight of Maverick, the dog stumbled in the sand towards him. Maverick smiled and crouched down allowing the dog to run into his embrace, licking his face in greeting.

“Lady girl! You’ve gotten so big in the last week, you just keep on growing.” Maverick smiled rubbing the dogs head

You got up with Penny’s help and walked onto the beach towards your dad, you saw Jake still down by the water with a few other pilots so you figured you’d make your way down to him.

“Hey dad.” You smiled as you walked over to him, Lady coming right back to your side

“Hey kiddo. How’s my grandson?” Maverick asked giving you a hug and kissing your forehead

“He’s being pretty lazy today, he hasn’t moved around much and when I pressed around to try to get him to move he just gave me one big kick basically telling me to shut up.” You chuckled rubbing your belly where your baby had just given you a kick, probably knowing you were talking about him

“It’s those Mitchell genes, he’s gonna be a stubborn one.” Maverick smiled gently patting your stomach

“God help us.” You shook your head. “How’s training going? I hope Jake isn’t being too much trouble.”

“It’s going. Jake’s being Jake. He’s definitely giving Bradley a hard time.” Maverick said

Jake was the one who put you back together, when you met you had some serious trust issues and were battling some depression as well. Even before you finally agreed to date him, Jake was always protective of you and when you finally opened up and let him in he swore no one was ever going to hurt you again.

“He’s just protective, you know that.” You sighed and Maverick nodded

“I know. I’m glad he looks out for you.” Maverick said looking slightly over your shoulder making you smirk

“You know, she still loves you.” You said making him snap his gaze back to you

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Maverick shook his head and you chuckled

“She’s been like my mother my whole life. I wish you’d make it official.” You said kissing his cheek before making your way towards Jake

“Y/N?” A voice asked from behind you making you pause, you knew that voice it’s one you’d never be able to forget no matter how hard you tried

You slowly turned around and saw Bradley standing in front of you, he was wearing his dads old aviators and some cut off jean shorts without a shirt. He’s grown up since you saw him last, now sporting the mustache that looked so much like Goose’s.

“Bradley.” You nodded managing a small smile, you felt Lady settle herself right on your side nearly sitting on your foot in a protective position

“Look. I don’t want any trouble. I know I screwed up so bad, cutting you out of my life was one of the dumbest things I’ve ever done. I was just so mad about what had happened that I didn’t even think that you might not of known about it I just decided that you had just as much to do with it as Mav and that was the end of it. You didn’t deserve that, I know that now.” Bradley sighed sadly looking down at your bump that you were cradling

“You’re right. I didn’t deserve that. I loved you Bradley, I honestly thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with you. You were my best friend and I know you were going through a rough time losing Carole and then your papers. But I lost her too, she was the closest thing I had to a mom and I loved her so much. I was grieving and then I lost you too.” You paused to clear your throat. “I don’t know. Maybe if you had stuck around I never would’ve met Jake, and I wouldn’t trade him and our life together for the world. I don’t want to bring my son into the world with any hard feelings, I don’t want any grudges to be passed down to him. So, I am willing to try and move past this. You were family once Brad, I think that maybe we could be that again.”

Bradley cleared his throat and looked away before looking back towards you.

“I would really like that. I’m happy for you kid, as much as I hate to say it I’m glad that you have Jake and happy that you found someone who will love and take care of you. I will spend the rest of my life trying to make this right, I promise.” Bradley said and you nodded reaching down to pet Lady when she nudged your leg

“I think we can do that.” You smiled softly one that Bradley mirrored

“Congratulations. I remember how you always talked about being a mom.” Bradley said gesturing to your stomach

“Thank you. It’s a little boy.” You smiled adoringly down at your stomach

Before anything else could be said, a familiar presence was felt behind you before arms wrapped around your waist and gently cupped your stomach pulling you back into a warm firm chest.

“Everything good here?” Jake asked leaning down to kiss the spot right under your ear

“Everything’s fine.” You nodded towards Bradley who nodded in agreement

“Yeah. Uh, congrats on the baby.” Bradley told Jake who nodded

“Thanks.” Jake said before taking Lady’s leash from your hands. “Want to get some food?”

“Yes. I’m starving.” You said and Jake chuckled taking your hand into his

“Let’s go then, I’m sure Penny would make you that burger you love.” Jake said pulling you towards the hard deck

“I’ll see you around.” You told Bradley who nodded watching as you left with Jake’s arm now wrapped around your waist

Bradley watched Jake lean down to kiss your forehead gently as he led you and your dog back towards the hard deck where everyone else was standing around the back deck talking. He watched your smile as you talked to Phoenix and Bob and as you were introduced to everyone else. He smiled softly, he fully expected to be filled with jealousy when he saw you and Jake together.

But seeing how happy you were, your bright smile and sparkling eyes as you cling to Jake’s side. You deserve the world and if Jake can give it to you then that’s enough for him.

Taglist

@daughterofthereaper02

@luckyladycreator2

@calpurniatypes

@littlebadariell

@qnfluvr

@raefoxiegirl

@maverick-wingman

@avada-kedrava-bitch

@army24--7

[justbelievinginmagic]

BEWITCHED - part 1: we're not in munchkinland anymore.

pairing(s): witch!seonghwa x witch!reader ft. honjoong & san. mini-series summary: all your life you've had this spark - a touch of magic to your heart. as a munchkinlander, it was both a blessing and a curse. after all, two horrible witches had ruled over the land - all your life you had been asked: would you be a good witch or a bad witch? you wanted to be a good witch. and, finally, you would be! the day arrived; you were going to shiz university, the most-esteemed magical college in oz! you were prepared to work hard and make your dreams come true. but when you stumble upon cold bullies and an even colder sorcerer-in-training named park seonghwa who seemed to captivate you at every turn, will you be able to achieve your magical goals or will you fall under his spell? warnings/tags: inspired by the musical and movie adaptation of wicked, magical college AU, wizard of oz AU, set at shiz university, fem!reader, 3rd person POV, use of YN, set after a divergent-wicked timeline (where the wizard or a wizard still rules), magic, angst, some bullying, oz references and lore, use of ozian vernacular, nervousness, second-hand embarrassment, mentions of panties/corset, name calling. let me know if there are more tags needed. word count: ~4.5k

It had been known throughout Oz, for as long as the Time Dragon Clock tick-tocked, that the only place to become a grand sorcerer was Shiz University. Established, expensive, and exclusivatory, the university was known throughout the land as the cradle to success. Anyone who wanted to be anything went there – or to the Wizard to have their heart’s desire granted. But, of course, a meeting with the Wizard was rare. So, the only other option to success was hard work. Work hard to one day get to Shiz University.

Staring up at the ancient buildings of Shiz, YN couldn’t help but feel a rush of exhilaration. She had made it. Spiraling towers, open-air patios, water canals weaving in and out of the architecture, she knew one thing for certain: she wasn’t in Munchkinland anymore.

A shoulder bumped into her, making her huff and stumble over the aged tiles. She righted herself with a small huff, a familiar zing in her chest making her pause and take a deep breath. That was the last thing she needed to happen. The bustling crowds of students surrounded her like a sea. Some in the perfectly-pressed navy-blue jackets and horizontal-striped uniform dresses of Shiz with the silver-stitched emblem proud across their chest. Others were like her, dressed in their best-to-impress as they entered the grand corridors of Shiz as a new student. It reminded her of stories of masquerades in grand ballrooms – their outfits were all so different and extravagant. Pinks of the lightest shades, deep-rubied vermillion, bright yellows, all in the strangest textures and designs. Far different from her own dress fabric but never the less fantasticamagical!

YN felt out of place like a lost air balloon amongst the clouds. Clinging to her luggage case, she took a tentative step away from the open-air waterfront. As she moved ever forward into the college, she realized just how different everything was here. The air was cool and humid; the sound of sea-salt water trickling between the canal-filled paths babbled; there was the smell of fresh-Ozma petals blooming on the large leaf-pads floating across the shimmering water. It was really nothing like Munchkinland, and its sprawling country-sides. There was no smell of Ozwheat-ground bread, of fresh upturned soil, fragrant tulips in every shade of the rainbow, or the towering blossom stalks of sweet-flowers.

It was strange.

Swallowing, she hugged her brown suitcase closer and continued to walk further into Shiz. The honey-soft yellow of the buildings was complimented by a once-royal, now-pastel blue in the awnings and in delicate hand-painted décor across the buildings. Sunshine flickered past the shingled rooftops to cast the center of Shiz in a golden glow. It was beautiful. A different beautiful than what she was used to, but an optimistic jingle in her heart said she could like it here.

Another person pushed past her purposely, and this time it sent her tumbling to the ground. A laughter grumbled from the crowd, surprised but cruel. A mean-looking girl with a pointy nose laughed as she crowed out, “Watch where you are going, little farm girl!”

“She’s used to being that low to the ground I bet,” another encouraged with a sneer.

YN’s face crumbled at the words. Eyes burning before her face flushed. All her things toppled across the bustling court-yard – her books scattered, her dresses tumbled, her keepsakes rolled. Her suitcase had broken open. The clasp was worn and old compared to the new fancy luggage the rich (but mostly their entourage) toted along, but she didn’t think it was that old.

Embarrassment burned more fervently than that spark in her chest. Her focus to split between the pain of in her knees, the hurt from their words, and the panic of needing to grab her things now.

YN didn’t understand their uttertodious rudeness. She wasn’t the first nor the last to attend Shiz as a Munchkinlander. She hadn’t expected the dirty looks, the cruel laughs, the cold whispers, the foul name-calling. How did they even know she was of Munchkinland? She wasn’t of Munckinland holy blood. She was no Eminent, nor of the upper-class. She was just… YN. Was that so offending? Was it her dress? Was that what they were whispering about behind their hands and falling into giggles? Was it hideoteous compared to the swankified fabrics of the upper-class? She didn’t think so. She had put on her prettiest – a dirndl-esque dress of a deep sapphire. Hand-embroidered vibrant poppies, delicate milk-flowers, and candy-chrysanthemums decorated the hem and décolletage. Fresh flowers decorated her pig-tailed hair; some had begun to wilt in the change of temperature, but they still were prettied pastel yellows, blues, and pinks.  Some of those petals now rested on the ground from her fall, crumpled.

She felt the burn flare like embers fanned by a wind. Her book pages rattled in a nonexistent wind unnoticed by the snickering students. Behind her, a man’s voice cleared itself, baritone and rumbly.

“Are you alright?” He asked beside her.

Oh, his voice so melodic it reminded her of the Lullaby League singers that would pass through Munchkinland during the holidays. It reminded her of honey being poured over fresh-bread, of warm summer nights in the fields, of a bed waiting for her to curl up in.  

Looking up at him, her breath was stolen. YN swore for a moment she saw a star, a wizard, a sorcerer, an otherworldly being. There, haloed in the light of the afternoon sun, was a man with hair as light as milk-flowers and a nose carved by an artist. His shapely lips pursed in a thoughtful yet neutral pout; his eyes were a dark shade of fresh-soil. And somehow, they twinkled with stars.

Or maybe her eyes were filled with hearts. She blinked. YN had never seen someone so beautiful. The burning spark in her chest faded with awe.

His hand outstretched to her after a moment.

“Are you okay?” he repeated, bleached brow raising faintly.

There was another blink of her pretty eyes before she was shaken from her stupor.

“Oh, yes, yes,” she insisted as she took his hand.

With ease, she was tugged to her feet. “Thank you,” she whispered, pink cheeked.

The figure was tall especially so with his heeled boots. His presence was one she imagined only the Wizard to embody. Peace, stoniness, wisdom. He struck her with wonder. His gaze flickered from her, a faint ghost of a smile on his lips disappearing at the sight of her dresses tumbling away, her books’ pages fluttering in the wind, and, mortifyingly, her panties tumbling from her luggage.

“Um,” he cleared his throat, chin nodding in their direction.

Red cheeked and mortified, she went to grab the frilly underthings before sliding to her knees once more to catch all of her belongings from blowing away. Laughter rang out as students rushed around her things. Someone stepped on her leatherbound book of the History of Shiz.

Her savior, her star, hadn’t bent at the knee to help. He simply watched on, glancing at the student who was cackling at the Munchkinlander’s humiliation.

“Seonghwa!” A cry from the side caught her attention as a red-haired man, shorter than the white-haired star that had helped her, rushed forward. His arm slung over the taller’s shoulders - despite their size differences. Seonghwa bent at the knee for him, letting the red-head adjust him ‘til he was comfortable half leaning on his counterpart.

“Your Highness,” Seonghwa replied.

Highness! Her face only seemed to grow hotter and hotter. She knew Shiz had the rich and royal but she didn’t expect to a royal highness to be watching her gather her intimates and shove them into her luggage today. If her face could burn any hotter, she’d be a furnace.

“Here.” A stray hand held out a blue nightgown her way, and she grabbed it with only the quickest glance.

Sweet Oz, was this entire school flooded with beauty? A strong-shouldered man in decorated regalia was kneeling down to offer more of her items her way. He had collected a handful in his arms - a book, another nightgown, her corset! Grabbing it quick, she thanked him under her breath as she pushed everything into her bag messily.

“Making the ladies swoon and lose their panties already?” the red-haired man teased.

The burn in her chest returned almost as if it could incinerate her away ‘til she was nothing but dust. She wished she could disappear. She didn’t even notice her fingertips fading away, disappearing as she accepted another book from the handsome knight. They sparkled a ghastly transparent shape, almost like she was part ghost. San’s eyes lingered on her hands for a moment, eyes widening. She didn’t even notice that as she shoved a balled-up sweater into the bag.

“She stumbled and fell on her own,” Seonghwa commented. His tone felt cooler than before, almost defensive.

“I was tripped,” she muttered under her breath as she placed the last of her things in her bag.

With the last thing safely tucked away and her bag firmly shut, the broad-shouldered man gave her a soft smile, charmingly so, before he rose and returned to the Star named Seonghwa and his Highness.

“No harm in swooning anyone; stop acting like it’s some scandalacious thing,” the red-head chuckled as he peered down at the Munchkinland woman. His hand rose to tilt his rose-tinted glasses down the fine bridge of his nose.

He winked at her, and her face nearly matched his crimson locks.

“We aren’t here to swoon, Prince Hongjoong. We are here to—”

“Study, yeah, yeah. You okay, miss?” This Prince Hongjoong’s smile, or well, smirk was deadly. Playful, seductive, charming, all wrapped up in one.

“She’s from Munchkinland; I’m sure she’s familiar with being in the dirt,” someone said from the crowd.

Snorts and giggles erupted around. It made her ears burn as she finally stood back on her own two feet, with no help from the strange trio in front of her. The only reassurance was that they didn’t laugh, well, much. Hongjoong giggled out a high-pitched thing as San whispered in his ear. It didn’t feel cruel, more jovial, but still her ego was bruised.

They were laughing at her.

“I’m fine,” she said firmly, trying to cling to her words’ truth as tightly as she clung to her luggage.

Water-chimes rang out; hummingbirds playing them to the tune of the Shiz University alma mater. Everyone’s heads turned; some exclamations of excitement rang out.

“Orientation time,” she heard a girl from behind her say. “We have to get a good seat, c’mon.” A trio of girls pushed past and soon everyone was heading in the direction of the quad.

Orientation… so that’s what those bells were all about. It felt so utterly strange to not know. Everything was so different here, no bell towers here. Everyone seemed to know what things were – even something as simple as orientation’s starting call. But with that, her disturberanceand bullies left in a herd of Ozians scrambling to the main courtyard of Shiz.

She sighed out watching their attentions shift. Like she was nothing but an ant. Momentary entertainment before they casted her aside. She didn’t know it was going to be like this when she left home. Humiliating. Teasing. They weren’t children – why did they act so childish?

After working hard in her classes, after studying day-in-day-out, after facing endless scribing of papers, and even after facing nay-sayers who would taunt her with the words, “are you a good witch or a bad witch?,” she made it here. And she wasn’t going to let some rich-snobs make her feel lesser. So, what she didn’t have money or status? So what she came from Munchkinland? She was going to make it for herself – live an Ozian dream.

Munchkins were simple-folk – small-minded some would say, but not her. No, she believed they were clever. Innovative. They were responsible for feeding Oz; they were the Ozwheat Bread Basket of the lands; their rainbow-tulips techni-colored Oz! That had to stand for something. She was something.

She deserved to be here. She made it. She did it. She was equal.

The burning flame in her chest eased as she reminded herself this, sighing out as color flooded back to her fingertips.

Following after the crowd, she noticed that the trio stayed near her. Hongjoong’s stance was lazy, half leaning on Seonghwa who stood tall as ever, towering over both him and the strong-shouldered man who had helped her.

None were in the standard uniform – did that mean they were freshman like her? The Prince’s attire wasn’t exactly sloppy but mismatched. Dark velveteen pants hugged his legs tight. Laced up black boots with far too many laces climbed up his calves. He wore an ivory-white button up with far too many buttons, far too unbuttoned to be appropriate. A cream suit-jacket-esque sweater rested overtop that. The pattern on it held delicate handstitched purple-flowers… maybe gillyflowers? Was he from Gillikin Country? Regardless, he wore a strand of pearls around his throat, haphazardly. His rose-tinted glasses perched on the tip of his nose and a large oversized blue suede fedora hat hid most of his vermillion hair.

Meanwhile, the two accompanying him wore more uniformed outfits. The broad-shouldered one wore a black-suited ensemble with golden embellishments. A cape draped over his shoulder in deep purple. The one who she thought came from a Star had all white linens on, sharp shouldered and corseted tight around his already lean waist. They looked more royal than the so-called prince.

“You’re staring,” Seonghwa stated, blankly.

His gaze caught hers solidly. His gaze was all-consuming. Like he could see right through her. Read her thoughts. Great Oz… she was both intimidated and intrigued by him. He felt magnetic. Her stomach clenched. He tilted his head.

“Sorry,” she blushed.

“Again.” he added, brow twitching into a sharp raise.

His expression made her feel little, like he was throwing her back to the floor metaphorically. Because, he just had to point out that he noticed her staring earlier. He probably thought she was a creep or some dumb farmgirl like the students cajoled.

“Sorry… again.” she said, finally glancing away from him and walking towards an empty spot on a bench instead. She shifted to hold her suitcase in her arms, hugging it close to her chest. The spark twinkled and she didn’t notice aura she put off. A physical manifestation of her magic. It was a gentle aura; something that was more felt and less seen. It felt like dark clouds were hovering around her. A bubble to keep her safe and hidden, subconsciously.

He didn’t stop looking at her still. She knew because she snuck a quick glance and, when their eyes met in that flash, her cheeks matched the red poppies on her dress. The one with the cape chuckled; his eyes flashing to meet hers once more with a playful gleam. He was laughing at her. Sitting down in an empty spot on a bench, she turned her face away to look down the row of students seated next to her. She offered a soft smile about to introduce herself to the one beside her before one after one they scooted away. Glancing at her like she was the plague. “She’s the Munchkin girl; no, no, she’s not of any royal blood – shes just a charity case – maybe she—” Gossip trickled out as the other students sitting there shifted and moved until she was the only one sitting there. An outcast.  

What in Oz was this place?! She knew it was exclusivatory but not like this. So hateful. She wrapped her arms around her suitcase. Her chin rested on top of it as she looked around, making sure not to look at Seonghwa… A third scolding? From him? She’d rather melt into a puddle.

Once everyone had been seated, there was a great hum of a tune – the same alma mater that had twinkled out in chimes to summon them. Some students sang out with pride, knowing every word despite it being their first day. She knew it too; she had read it in her history book. But she refused to embarrass herself anymore today. If she could get through orientation without drawing anymore attention to herself, YN would be content.

Her spark kept a small bubble around her as if telling the world to not disturb her. She heard someone murmur something about, “do you see that odd shimmer around the new girl?”

As if not everyone was new… she pressed her chin into her arms firmer. Orientation and then she can get settled and try to start tomorrow on a better foot.

“Welcome students!” cried out a fancy-looking woman approaching the podium. Her dress was swirling with ancient blue magic; her hat a sharp point upon her head. A sorceress, no, a Witch! YN’s eyes perked up and she gazed up at the Witch in wonder. A real-life witch… a Good Witch of the North! How oztastic.

“Welcome, welcome to Shiz University. I am Madame Ozma, Headmistress here. Whether you are here to study logic, literature, or linguification, I know I speak for my fellow faculty members when I say we have nothing but the highest hopes for… some of you,” it was said in jest and a chuckle waved through the crowd.

“While all subjects are valued here at Shiz, I do want to bring some attention to two very lucky, very talented students that will be joining my sorcery seminar this semester. As you all know – sorcery is the life blood of Oz, and it’s a blessing and duty to cultivate any magic talent that shows itself. As rare as it is. It’s been decades since there have been two students studying sorcery concurrently. Their powers brought into a new age – as we all know.”

There was a murmur of agreement. Everyone knew of the Wicked Witch and Glinda the Good.

“Such a gift should be celebrated.” Ozma exclaimed out. “Uplifted. Guided towards the Light”

There was a scattering of applause. Her cheeks were burning red once more. Her head tilted downwards. The letter hadn’t mentioned this. Good Oz, she wanted to hide.

“Please rise, Miss YN of Munchkinland.”

A silence washed over the crowd in shock. All eyes snapped to her. Hongjoong let out a laugh in the silence, the sound bursting forth from his chest without a care. Blink, blink, blink; she felt like she was an art display of exhibition. Could she just ignore it? What would happen if she didn’t stand? No one really knew if she was YN after all?

“Don’t be shy.” The Headmistress encouraged.

Oh, Great Oz… With poppy-tinted ears, she slowly stood, ruby-cheeked and tight-smiled. That feeling of magic tingled in her chest, fluttering as her anxiety grew. It wanted to burst out – protect her from the murmur that rose through the students. Gossip rolled in wave as they leaned into one another. Whispering what? She didn’t want to know.

“Thank you, dearie. And, rise Sir Seonghwa of Gillikin Country.” She beamed out, encouraging a round of applause once more.  

YN’s gaze flashed to where Seonghwa rose as well, waving polite and light. Unlike her, he held such an elegance she didn’t have. Of course, he had magic! Of course, he was a Knight! She was sure he could control it better than she could ever control her wild thing of a magic spark. And now they were going to have private lessons together? After his friends made fun of her? After school-wide ridicule? After he reprimanded her for staring! She wanted to crawl into a corn field and rot.

“Our two sorcerers-in-training,” she declared over polite clapping. “We will be seeing lots and lots of each other.” Madame Ozma promised her and Seonghwa before nodding and allowing them to sit. The Headmistress beamed at the students before shifting her attention to another professor who began to prattle about dormitories, their roommates, and where the halls were located.

Sitting down quick, she wished she could just sink into the ground. How was she going to stand being around him? She blushed if he even so looked at her. How would she focus?

-

Once orientation ended, it was like a stampede. The students shuffled and hustled around her, rushing towards the many faculty who were handing out keys to their dormitories and pointing on grand scrolls and proclaiming, “Yes, yes, Ms. Gale, you are in the North Dormitory. No, you can’t trade roommates. Yes, its permanent.” Overlapping and overwhelming, the world of Shiz was back in swing – the orientation a flurry of too many moments and moving bodies.

YN stayed on the outskirts of the chaos, peering through a navy sea of uniforms to peer up at the many scrolls, listing out name after name. She’s already embarrassed herself enough for today; she’ll wait ‘til the crowd dispersed she decided.

“There must have been a miscommunication,” she heard Seonghwa’s smooth voice like a siren’s call. She couldn’t help but have her eyes flicker towards him. How could she hear him so well? It was like her body was already in tune with him – he was so far away and yet she could pick him out of a crowd. He was a beautiful flower surrounded by weeds.

Seonghwa’s face was crinkled, divine confusion making his upturned brows

“This isn’t right,” he continued, raising a polite hand towards a faculty member. “The Gillikin Prince requested a private apartment – for himself, Sir Choi San, and myself. But I only see his Highness and San listed.”

“Name?” the bunny-faculty member chirped out.

“Park Seonghwa,” he told him.

There was a shuffling of papers, the rabbit-professor humming and bumbling.

“Ah, yes, yes,” the rabbit nodded, his mouth chittering a bit as he chewed on the edge of his pen. “I see – no, no mix up, Sir Seonghwa. Thank you.”

“Where is my dormitory then?” Seonghwa snapped, his tone sharp and authoritarian before he swallowed and followed it up with a soft ‘please’.

“With Miss YN, of course,” It wasn’t the rabbit-professor who spoke but the nearby Headmistress. She walked forward; the rabbit-professor bowed in her direction and Seonghwa followed suit, bowing his head politely.

“YN, dear,” Madame Ozma called, “Join us.”

Seonghwa’s gaze turned and met hers – because, of course, like two magnets their eyes found one another immediately. It felt like she was caught staring for the third time. Bumbling, YN nodded and stood with her suitcase, walking forward.

“Yes, Madame,” she called, curtsying and bowing and rushing forward to the Headmistress. “Honor to meet you.”

“What do you mean I am rooming with Miss YN?” Seonghwa redirected.

Nearby, she heard Hongjoong giggled out manically. “This is perfect,” the red-head commented.

“Hush, your Highness,” Seonghwa scolded over his shoulder with ease, not even glancing at the Prince. Too natural, too routine, like he knew where the Prince was at all times without even looking his way. The Prince still giggled, and surprisingly San joined him in his mischievousness.

“Yes, Seonghwa, you will be sharing an apartment with YN,” the Headmistress confirmed, her head nodding towards the Munchkinlander. “I thought that was made clear to you through our letters?”

Seonghwa’s head turned, almost like an owl, to stare down the chortling Royal and the smirking San.

“I must’ve missed that letter,” he replied slowly.

“As did I,” YN piped up. “I never received anything besides – well, besides entry into the school and your approval of joining the seminar.”

“Oh dear, I’m so sorry,” the Madame apologized, squeezing the arm of YN. “I will inquire my office about correspondence throughout Oz and where there were any mishaps.”

She nodded lightly before glancing towards Seonghwa who seemed so indifferent to her as he turned back to face the Headmistress. Like a statue, his facial features had settled into a calm, neutral glaze.

“However, I must apologize; there are not two room available for you both. There is only one apartment closest to my offices – I want to have myself available to you both as often as possible. Magical growth doesn’t happen overnight nor does it follow any class schedule,” she chuckled lightly. “The apartment is up to standards, one of the best if I do say so myself.”

The two sorcerers-in-training spoke over one another next.

“I don’t doubt that,” YN replied.

“It’s not about that!” Seonghwa exclaimed.

They locked gazes once more. The man swallowed, his Adam's apple jittering, before looking away forcibly.

Her face fell visibly. Was he so… disgustified by her that he couldn't even share a space with her? She was an adult. She wouldn’t be dirty or disrespectful as a roommate. She'd leave him be but with how he was acting - it was as if she was some lowly creature. He didnt even care if the apartment was the nicest ones on campus! She could only imagine its history and beauty and yet... he was acting so adamant.

“I am here as protection for his Highness,” Seonghwa stated whole-heartedly. “First-and-foremost.”

“I understand,” the Headmistress asserted. “His Highness, Prince Kim Hongjoong has written me most ardently over the summer requesting for his apartment to be furnished only for two – him and Sir Choi. He expressed his full support to your studies.”

At the new information, there was a flicker of dust whirling off of the sorcerer's bare skin; his honey skin glimmering as magic oozed from him. He rolled his tongue over his teeth before Seonghwa finally let out a huff of frustration. His perfect mask fell as he gritted his teeth.

“And I do,” Hongjoong drawled from behind them. He took a step forward, red glasses pushed into his hair as he looked at his friend earnestly. “Hwa, you’ve protected me your entire life – its time for your talent to grow.” It was said genuinely but Seonghwa’s anger, no matter how small buzzed and bubbled in the air. She could see his hair rise with static electricity just faintly. His magic was so reactive… just like hers.

She had never met another wizard or witch; only read about them. And to see his magic surging in a near invisible dust-like ember around him, the little tells of its reactions on his body, it felt like for once she had someone who would understand her.

If only he didn't despise her.

“There are no curfews,” the Headmistress reminded. “If you wish to stay at his Highness’ suite, no one will stop you. But I’m sorry; there are no other official accommodations I can provide.”

Seonghwa took in a deep breath through his nose before offering a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. “That’s alright, Headmistress. Thank you for the clarification. I’m sure me and YN will – we'll be fine. We will find a solution.” He stumbled over the right word.

She felt like he was already planning to sneak out of their dorm or distance himself from her as soon as the Headmistress floated away. He hadnt looked at her since she joined them.

“Very good. That's what I like to hear - my two sorcerers working together” The Headmistress beamed. Her magic blared out in a whirl of golden light with her happiness, looking like a living candle for a moment. “I do look forward to our lessons, but for now… welcome to Shiz.”

Yeah, what a welcome.