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buckyownsmylife · 4 years ago

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How I Want You - Logan Delos x Reader Fluff

The one where Logan confesses that he loves you.

Warnings: angst, Logan’s crappy father, sexual themes, selfdoubt and selfhatred.

A/N: No, I couldn’t help myself. I’m obsessed with Taylor Swift and it shows.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

It was way too fucking late for anyone to be up, and still, much too early for Logan to have gone to bed. Which was why the second my phone rang, I forsake my comfy blankets and grabbed my keys, knowing exactly who it was - the only person who would call me at such a time and the only number whose call would get through during my sleeping hours.

“Where are you?” Was all I asked, although I already knew that the answer wouldn’t be satisfactory to my plan of going back to sleep as soon as possible. “You know what? Just stay where you are. I’m coming to get you. This is why I download that find my friends app in the first place.”

“I’m home,” he interjected, his tone sounding very firm, and very tired, and very not drunk for the time of day. It caught me by surprise. “I’ll be waiting.”And then he was gone. Hung up in a show of just how quickly he needed me to get to him.

It made my skin crawl and heartbeat pick up, that intuition that only ever acted when it came to him telling me something very bad had happened, or at the very least, that he was as far away from okay as he could get. And if he was home, then it truly was the worst case scenario.

I got there as fast as I could without breaking any laws, and I barely allowed myself the time to kill off the engine before I was running out of the vehicle and into my best friend’s arms. Logan welcomed with a silent desperation that came in the form of reaching for me as a child would for any sort of parental guidance, and the anxiety that had been coursing through my veins while I couldn’t see his state little by little began to be replaced by anger. Pure, unadulterated, blinding anger.

“Get in the car, Lo,” I called him by the childhood nickname he pretended to hate, knowing it would help in my task to calm him down. “I’ll be right back.” He wanted to stop me the second that he realized what my intention was. I knew it because he seized my wrist and held it tightly, stopping me from moving any further away from him. But the second that he saw my eyes, when I turned around to stare at him and silently order him to let go, he did just so, knowing better than anyone else that when I got into this mindset, there was no one who could possibly get me out of it.

“Okay.” He nodded, and I knew he was watching me as I stepped into the huge mansion Logan did not call home. It only made me even more sure of what I intended to do. With quick strides, I crossed the main floor in the direction of his father’s office, and I didn’t even knock before I slammed it open, fire burning inside of me.

“What the fuck did you say to him?” I yelled as soon as James’ eyes met mine after my loud entrance startled him from whatever work he was trying to do at such a late hour - work he had always prioritized over his son.

“What?” He asked, clearly not expecting my sudden outburst, and probably not immediately relating my loss of reason to his only son. It only made me grow angrier, the fact that just because he didn’t worry about Logan, he couldn’t imagine anyone else caring for him either.

“What the fuck did you tell Logan that made him so upset? Only you can make him feel bad about himself, so I know it’s your fault. Tell me.” When realization finally seemed to hit him, no ounce of regret or shame painted James’ features, but that didn’t surprise me. Even if he had never been anything other than sweet to me, being Logan’s best friend meant I knew who he really was, and that implied that I knew every single one of his flaws as a father. He just didn’t know that I did, until then.

“You’re a smart girl, Y/N. You really shouldn’t waste your time on a failure like him.” The harsh reality of what he had said hurt me so deeply that it immediately drained me of all anger, leaving only a sickly feeling of disgust behind.

“Logan deserves every single second of my attention, and he deserves yours too. I’m sorry you can’t see it, but the only one who’s missing out is you.” Cold, bitter tears of pity for the sweet man I knew flowed down my cheeks, but I was quick to wipe them away. Logan didn’t need to see them.

“How was it in there?” He asked as soon as I was inside of the car again, his lips curled in a small smile that was half self-conscious, half knowing of what his father was capable of saying when it came to him, but I couldn’t yet stomach what I’d heard, so I just clutched his hand tightly with mine.

“Doesn’t matter. How about a sleepover?”

Logan’s P.O.V.

The drive to her place was silent, but she kept reaching for my hand every time she could, like she needed the physical reminder that I was there with her, instead of back at my house. Like she knew that I needed to be reminded of that too.

What would I do without her? Ever since I could remember, it was us against the world. Or more precisely, us against my father, and as a child, he was pretty much the only boundaries to the world that I knew. But even after I grew and started to see past my father’s empire, when I started to make real, lousy mistakes, instead of the childhood errors that would get me grounded, she still stuck up for me. She was always there, whenever I needed her.

My eyes trailed up her body, taking notice of the way her sleepwear still managed to make her curves enticing. She always looked beautiful in my eyes. No matter how many women I slept with, they could never come close to the beauty that I saw in my best friend and only in her.

“What do you see in me?” I blurted out, suddenly overtaken by the realization of just how inferior to her I was. It made my chest feel tighter, and breathing became a bit harder. The tears that would never come for my father suddenly stung my eyes, and I had to rub the palms of my hands against them to stop myself from crying.

“I’m sorry?” It seemed like she wasn’t expecting the sudden interruption to the silence that had fallen between us, but the desperation that had forced me to ask the question that plagued me had been dulled by my fear of her answer. I couldn’t bear the thought of knowing she thought less of me. I couldn’t bear the thought of being less in her eyes than she was in mine.

“Logan, what do you see in yourself?” She asked, once more glancing at me to make sure I was fine, which I was certain I would be able to pretend like I was. But of course, I could never fool her. So when she squeezed my hand to get me to talk, I found myself answering honestly, “Nothing. I-I’m nothing, Y/N. I’m just a waste of space and air and energy, your energy, and I have absolutely no idea why you put up with me.”

We had arrived at her apartment complex, I realized, but only because suddenly there were arms thrown over me, and a familiar neck for me to nuzzle with a familiar perfume that seemed to be the only thing able to relax my very soul.

“Well, that’s the exact opposite of what I see in you, Logan Delos. I see so much, I see everything. I see the whole wide world in you. You’ve always meant that for me. And to see you doubt that… There’s not a day in my life where I don’t hate your father for making you think so little of yourself.” That had me laughing against her skin, but it was a wet sound, unfortunately. Still, she didn’t seem to mind, allowing me to cling tightly to her as she drew soft patterns on my back. “You can’t say bad things about yourself, ever. That’s an order.”

After that last comment made me pull away from her to freely laugh, she looked patiently at me with the most loving smile on her face. “Do you have any idea what you mean to me?” I asked, caressing the side of her face and grinning with pride when she leaned against my touch.

“Almost as much as you mean to me, I hope.” I swear, only she could have me laughing after feeling so down a few minutes before.

“Way more than that.”

“I doubt it.”

For a while, it was a staring contest between the two of us in her tiny car. I wanted to lean in and kiss her. God, I wanted to find out if her lips were as soft as they looked like But the second my hand grazed her cheek, she seemed to snap out of whatever reverie we had fallen on, quickly putting some space between us to unbuckle her belt.

“Let’s go,” she called out, reaching out for my hand as we walked towards her apartment. The second we were in the familiar setting of her living room, I felt the last bit of weight that had settled over my chest suddenly vaporize and disappear.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” I acknowledged as I took off my coat. “I owe you.”

“You owe me nothing,” she tried to wave it off, but I couldn’t let her do that. No, I needed her to understand that this was important to me, and I started by pulling her close so I could cradle her face between my hands and force her to see the seriousness in my so often joking eyes.

“I owe you a lot.” That was all I managed to say, as my throat closed at the quickening of my heartbeat. The moment felt heavy with something we couldn’t find it in ourselves to explore, and so we just stood there in silence, eyes cautiously exploring each other’s features until one of us decided to break the tension with a joke.

This time, it was her.

“I’m glad I downloaded that app on my phone and activated your location on yours. I seriously considered buying you a nice collar, with a tracker or something, so I could always know where you were when you called me. Especially when drunk.” I didn’t expect her words to have such an effect on me, but it was instantaneous. I felt my cock harden on my pants, and I knew that she could feel it too as I hid my blushing face in the crook of her neck.

“Are you trying to turn me on or are you really that oblivious?” I tried to pass it off as a joke, hoping to calm down despite keeping her touch close to me, but when her fingers buried themselves in my hair, I knew she’d only keep me balancing on this tightrope we’d been dancing on for way too long.

“I had no idea you were into that kind of stuff. Does the idea of wearing a collar entice you that much, Lo?” She asked, and although I knew she also wanted to pass it off as a joke, her voice sounded different, raspier. Filled with desire, I realized with a jolt, finally detaching myself from her to look her in the eye again.

This was it. This was my chance to say something that would irrevocably change the nature of our relationship forever, but hopefully, it’d become all I’d ever wanted.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“If it’s a collar that shows I belong to you, definitely.” I inhaled sharply at the words that fell oh-so-easily from my best friend’s lips. I knew him enough - I knew him way too much - to doubt the veracity of them, but that didn’t stop me from being overwhelmed at the realization that Logan wanted to be mine just as much as I wanted to be his.

“C’mon, stop teasing me,” I pleaded, trying to put some space between us, but failing to do so. Logan kept me close to him, gaze heavy on my body and when I still refused to meet his eyes, he held my jaw and forced me to do so.

“No, you c’mon. You know this isn’t me teasing you like when we were kids. I really, really want you. And not only like a best friend.” I didn’t even notice I was biting my lip until he pried it away with his thumb, staring longingly at it. “I’m gonna kiss you now.”

Before becoming a kiss, it was just him sucking that same bottom lip into his mouth, making me gasp and hold onto his shoulders for support. But then, he fused our mouths together, licking his way inside my mouth until I couldn’t breathe anymore.

When my eyes fluttered open to find his, I could barely see his pupils anymore. “Well, I don’t think I’ll be able to sleep after that,” I joked, trying to ease some of the tension in the room, but failing miserably. There was too much desire between us to disappear just like that. We’d need to find a way to release it if we were to ever move past this.

“I’d be offended if you were.” It felt nice to laugh with him after this kiss, this revelation of sentiments. It felt like, regardless of what we would become after tonight, I wouldn’t lose the most important person in my life, my best friend. The only one who could make me laugh like this, even after a breathtaking kiss, apparently.

“Wanna do something else, instead?”

#my fics #logan delos fluff #logan delos #fluff #logan delos x reader #logan delos reader #logan delos reader insert #logan delos reader inserts #logan delos imagine #logan delos imagines #logan delos writing #logan delos writings

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stygianflood · 4 years ago

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Star to Every Wandering Bark (Ethan x F!MC)

Hi everyone! I’m here with my very first fanfic. I’m really nervous about posting this, and have been changing my mind every hour. But I suppose I’ll just do it. I would like to thank Ruby (@starrystarrytrouble) for her encouragement and appreciation, and also for prereading this.

Summary: Set somewhere in the time jump in 2.18. Ethan surprises Aparna by asking her to add her name beside his own, on paper.

Also my submission for Choices January Challenge 2021 day 30 prompt, “Hope”

Words, rating- 1.2k, Teen

Genre- Fluff, with minor angst at the beginning

Open Heart Fanfic Trope- And they were Soulmates

Disclaimer- Characters belong to Pixelberry.

We need to talk. How about tomorrow, at my place?

Aparna had been pacing the locker-room for the best part of an hour, ruminating the full import of that text. And knowing Ethan, she had an inkling what it was about. She now wondered if she should have asked for more.

With the recent exigencies at the hospital, even when they managed to be at his place, sleep overtook them the moment they hit the bed. And there was the added business of life after Edenbrook, an issue Ethan was skilfully eluding for some time now.

Between going through the prospects and the plummeting vacancies in other hospitals, and wondering if she had completely misconstrued Ethan’s view of their relationship, Aparna was amazed she still retained her sanity.

When Marlene informed her that Mrs. Watson had responded to the antihistamines and was finally sleeping, Aparna knew she was only playing for time.

Ethan had been checking the time every fifteen minutes over the last couple of hours. She must be miffed at his non-responses this week. And then there was the other matter he was planning. But just as he was about to call her, the buzzer and then Jenner’s excited barks broke into his reverie.

‘Hey.’

Her smile was weary, the circles under her eyes darker. A few unruly strands had escaped her messy plait. And Ethan had never settled his eyes on a more calming sight.

But today he saw something else.

Could it be caution?

When she returned his embrace with a one-armed hug, and almost deflected the kiss, he wondered if it was only because she was tired, and Jenner, a little too distracting.

‘Why don’t you freshen up first?’ He asked as Aparna and his dog completely divested themselves of his presence.

She scratched behind Jenner’s ear one last time before answering, ‘I think I would prefer the talk.”

‘Of course.’ Ethan gestured towards the couch as he pondered over the wine rack. ‘I’ll just get the wine.

His motions were untroubled, leisurely.

‘Ethan, I don’t have time for this.’ Aparna replied through gritted teeth.

‘But,’ Ethan flinched, perplexed. ‘You said you’re free.’

‘Not free enough to break up over your fancy wine.’ she snapped, turning away to face the dusk that smeared on his windows.

A fraction of a second passed before Ethan gathered his completely disarrayed thoughts.

‘What the… Have you lost it, Apu?’

He walked down to her, wary but resolved. And almost as a reflex, his hand caressed her arm. It was their dance. Choreographed and familiar. And when she did not object, he dipped his chin on her shoulder.

‘Come on…’ Ethan whispered into her hair, and though she avoided his gaze, she did not refuse. He took that as a sign to steer her to the couch.

‘I thought we’d discuss our prospects after Edenbrook. Among... other things.’ Ethan tucked a strand of her hair behind her ear and sighed.

Aparna looked up. Timid and sheepish.

‘And you aren’t breaking up with me? Or leaving the continent?’ She asked, her ears reddening by the second.

‘Seriously, where’s this coming from?’

‘I’m sorry,’ Aparna mumbled, before quickly defending herself. ‘But Ethan, you don’t just tell people you need to TALK... Ugh! I need a shower.’

After a hot shower and voracious gulping of pizza, Aparna found herself looking at Ethan in his element. She had seen him dressed to the nines, and in other more private occasions. But she knew her favourite version of him was the one before her, speaking of the future of medicine, and in no uncertain terms, her future in it. He finished with the fundamentals of the hospitals she had chosen, and turned to face her.

‘Of course, I’ll follow you after you’ve made your decision.’ Ethan laced their fingers, before continuing, ‘That is to say, if you want me to.’

‘I have my reasons for avoiding this at work.’ Ethan put down his glass and edged closer before continuing. ‘I know we aren’t hiding anymore. But I stand by what I said. Your professional development is far too important. And I won’t tolerate people saying you were matched to a programme because I had anything to do with it.

‘That.’ Ethan smirked before sweeping her into his arms. ‘And food.’

The steady thrum of his pulse beat a tattoo on her forearm as she stared at him.

Ardent and doe-eyed.

Reminiscent of Miami.

Hope was treacherous and liberating, she realised.

And for the first time since they had known each other, Aparna was at a loss for words. But when she closed her lips on his, she hoped he would know.

A few more glasses later, they were sprawled on his couch, Jenner snuggling close to Aparna.

‘They might suggest one of their research assistants.’ Ethan continued, hoping she would take the hint. ‘But I already have-’

Purple remnants of the day lingered on the window panes, and the dimmed lights cast a strange, dreamlike aura on the living room.

‘I meant to ask you something else,’ Ethan ventured with trepidation in his voice. ‘My book is getting a second edition. John Hopkins and Novartis had rudimentary talks of sponsoring the research that’ll go into updating the data.

‘Ethan, are you saying what I think you’re saying?’

‘Yes.’ He grinned. ‘And legally, you’d be the second author.’

‘But… But I’m just a second year resident!’ She was back on her feet.

‘With experience on my team, and the first authorship of a paper on phage therapy.’ He said as though it was self explanatory.

And it’d be our first co-authored book, he told himself.

Ethan sat with bated breath as his eyes followed her nervous pacing across the living room.

Absentmindedly, or perhaps drawn by some intuition, Aparna reached for Ethan’s copy of Diagnostic Principles, and ran her hand across the title page.

Her thoughts were muddled by her younger self furiously scribbling along the margins of his book, every whirlwind circumstance that had brought her to this beautiful man, and the inebriating realisation that her own name could accompany his, on the same plush paper.

And in that moment, Aparna knew something had changed. Irrevocably. She was no longer the only one fighting for their future.

‘I must be mad to agree to this. But… Yes, Ethan.’

And she was as certain as the day she chose medicine, her first utterance in a lore she had composed for a decade.

Ethan felt before he knew he had walked across to her. Pressing his forehead to hers, he caressed her cheek. And with a surge of pride, he realised he had long wed his life’s vision to the woman he had held in his arms in Miami.

And you have only detoured in vain ever since.

And he kissed Aparna as he had never kissed her before, soaking in the honeysuckle of her hair, the wine on her tongue. Fervent. Ravenous. And then slow, and delicate, until they were both out of breath.

They stood teetering on the spot, drunk on each other, Jenner staring at their antics. And a warm glimmer doused the scene, and curled itself about Dr. Ramsey’s minimalist living room.

Thank you so much for reading this!

Title inspiration-

Tag list:

@starrystarrytrouble @potionsprefect @schnitzelbutterfingers @choicesficwriterscreations @openheartfanfics

Prompts tag list:

@choicesjanuarychallenge2021 @lucy-268

Let me know if you want to be added.

#choices open heart #ethan x mc #ethan ramsey #open heart fanfiction #choices fic writers creations #choices january challenge 2021 #fics of the week

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babyen-ami · 4 years ago

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Smile

Lee Heeseung/reader | childhood best friends to lovers | fluff & angst.

Word count: 6.9k

Warnings: depictions of violence, minor character death, alcohol abuse, ideas of self-harm and worthlessness, running away from problems.

Synopsis: Heeseung has always been your best friend. the person that has always supported you through thick and thin. the person with the most beautiful smile, that could light up your whole life. how could you not fall for him?

Notes: This is also published on AO3 under hapenguin. hope you like it!

The first memory you had of Heeseung was when You were 4 years old. It was an amazingly simple memory, only him smiling at you, with a big, beautiful smile that Made his eyes crease. It was a bright, sunny day. Hence why you were outside playing. You had been chasing him around the garden when he stopped abruptly making you stumble into him and land on top of him. You held out your hand to prevent any injuries, but that only made the situation first because you put all the weight of the fall on your hand that encountered a branch and fresh blood sprung out. Heeseung looked at you with a sheepish smile while you cried your eyes out. He kept repeating how sorry he was and even through your tears you were able to give him a small smile and tell him it was all forgiven. That was enough for the little boy because he was suddenly offering you the most beautiful and grand smile in the world while he held your other hand. His smile distracted you, it calmed you down. and just like that, tears that had been flowing freely came to a sudden halt. He always had a way of calming you. He was the person that kept you grounded even when you were only 4 years old. And His smiles would always be the reason for your smiles. That specific memory was your favorite image in the world.

When You were fourteen your mother died and even though Heeseung's smile made you feel a bit better at the funeral, it could not make up for what you would have to live from there on out. after that, your father had never been the same. At that age you had to start doing whatever work you could only to pay for the bills, so your drunk of a father could keep up with his habits.

After two weeks of you working your ass off and not being able to hang out with Heeseung, he found out. He had walked to your house only to find your dad passed out on the sofa surrounded by bottles of whiskey. Heeseung waited for you to come home on your porch. You finally made it by nine and the moment he looked at you, you saw in his eyes that he knew everything. "How long?" He asked softly. You grimaced but answered, nonetheless. "He's been drinking since my mom died but I've only been working a few weeks."

He did not say a word after that, only stood up and hugged you. Nobody had hugged you since the funeral, and it was like your mind came to accept the reality all at once. Tears started to slip from your eyes, and you murmured "I'm exhausted."

Two years later, you and Heeseung were a well-oiled machine. He was your rock, the person you could always trust and lean on. While you worked 2 part-time jobs and got home to make dinner for your father, he helped by doing your homework and making sure your father didn't kill himself or break something when he got home smelling like alcohol and drugs. You loved your dad, but you also knew that you shouldn't be forced to deal with all of this. You were only 16 for crying out loud. You also loved Heeseung. He had always been a pretty boy in your eyes. even when you were 6 years old and "boys had cooties" you thought that he was pretty and that his smile could light every aspect of your being. But now... You had no words to explain what he meant to you. Sometimes you would get home and he would be there having tucked your dad into bed and waiting for you with a bowl of ramen. In those moments, the only thing that could cross your mind was how beautiful he was, and how thankful you were for having him, and how much you wanted to kiss him. And then he would follow you to bed and he would smile at you and everything would feel better, all your worries dissipated just by looking at his beautiful smile. Then, he would wait until you fell asleep because he knew that if he left before you fell asleep you would stay up all night worried about a hundred different things. And he would sing for you, and each time that he did, you fought to stay awake wanting to hear his voice forever.

It was the first Saturday you had off in weeks and you woke up early deciding that for one day, you would just forget all of it. You walked to Heeseung's house and were received by his mom. She welcomed you with a big smile and a hug and you asked her if you could go wake up Heeseung. She nodded. "But before you go up, could I talk with you?" She asked. "Oh yeah of course"

She led you into the kitchen and offered you coffee which you gladly accepted. "Heeseung has been getting home very late" she started. "Oh, it's all my fault. I'm so sorry" you said hurriedly. "Oh, no honey don't worry I'm not mad. I talked with him 3 days ago and he explained the situation." Your eyes widened and your gut tightened. You wanted to run back to your house. "H-he told you?" You stammered. "Don't worry and please don't be mad at him. I want to help." "You want to help?" You repeated. "Are you going to repeat everything I say?" She said with a smile. "You are always welcome here, and you can ask me for whatever you need," she added. "That's extremely kind of you. Thank you so much" you said quickly because you could feel the heaviness of tears at the bottom of your throat. "You are like a daughter to me so don't even worry about it, now go wake Heeseung up," she said patting your leg in a motherly fashion.

You landed beside Heeseung's body that was currently sprawled on the bed and he grunted. "Wake up," you said in a sing-song tone. He mumbled something like go away but you kept on insisting until he grabbed you by the waist and tugged you so you were lying beside him and then he did something that made your heartbeat so fast you were scared you would have a heart attack. He held you against him. "No, no Heeseung" you whined "it's my only day off and I am not spending it trying to wake you up" you added. He grunted but let you go. He then proceeded to rub his eyes, sit up and smile the sleepiest smile he could muster.

It was 3 in the afternoon and you were laying on the grass of the park near your house. Heeseung was beside you leaning against a tree. Heeseung had been talking about BigHit entertainment, which was a big company right now in the kpop industry thanks to BTS. Heeseung has always adored music. Even when you were he would always be singing and dancing. It was something he was truly passionate about and you could see it in his eyes every time the topic was brought up. "I mean it's just an idea, they're holding auditions, and well..." He was saying nervously as he looked at your blank face. The words in question brought you out of your reverie. "You should totally do it," you said, frankly. "But that means I would have to move to Seoul and it's..." He trailed off. "First make sure you pass the audition. Seungie let's take this one step at a time." You were sure he would pass the audition. He was incredibly talented, and any company would be lucky to have him. You had to tell him to chase his dreams no matter how much it hurt you to see him leave. "Yeah, you're right. Wait! Did you just call me Seungie?" He asked and you just smiled sheepishly at him. "You haven't called me that since we were like ten," he said with a smile.

The auditions passed and the results came. Of course, Heeseung had made it, he was incredibly talented. He came running all the way to your house to tell you that he had passed, only to find you picking up pieces of glass that were scattered all over the living room. "What happened?" He asked forgetting all about the audition. "He hadn't been home in a couple of days and when he got here, I told him that he couldn't just disappear and that I was worried. He started fighting with me and threw the bottle of whiskey against the wall" you answered and carried on with picking up the pieces of the bottle. Heeseung knew it wasn't the best time to tell you, but he had to. "I got in. I'm gonna be a trainee for BigHit" he said quietly. The statement caught you so off base that a piece of glass slipped from your hands and in your reflex to catch it, you cut your hand. "Ow!" You gasped.

You were both in the bathroom. You were sitting on the edge of the sink while he tended to your cut. "I'm not gonna go to Seoul," he said. "What, why not?" You asked immediately. "I can't leave you..." He almost whispered. But you heard him loud and clear. "Don't worry about me. I mean, of course, having your help has been a gift, but I wouldn't be able to live with myself if I stopped you from following your dream" you said firmly "I'm a big girl now, I can take care of myself. Plus, I'm not alone, I have your mom" you added looking him in the eyes. He had just finished putting a band-aid over the cut and his fingers moved up to grab your wrist and pull you down from the sink, while he kept on looking into your eyes. You had always been short. But right now, looking in his eyes, you had to tilt your chin up to be able to do it. He leaned his head down and all the alarms in your mind started going off like crazy. Was he going to kiss you? he was looking at you so heavily and his eyes would drift quickly to your lips and then back up to your eyes. This was it; you were finally going to kiss Heeseung. But before anything else could happen you heard your father yell your name making the both of you jump apart.

The chatter of passenger's surrounded you while you walked next to Heeseung and his family to the gate of the train in which your best friend would be going off to achieve his dream. Your mind was cluttered, and your heartfelt heavy with all of the emotions you were feeling. You were unbelievably proud of him and sure that he would prove just how talented he was. But at the same time, you couldn't help but think about how hard it was going to be without him. Not only were you going to miss him helping you out with all your problems, but you were also going to miss him as your best friend.

After the almost-kiss-incident in the bathroom the other day, you had decided that you were gonna kiss him goodbye today. You couldn’t live with yourself if he left without knowing how you felt for him. plus, you were a hundred percent sure that he would debut, and he would become famous, so you were also a hundred percent sure that you would probably not be seeing much of Heeseung again. It was now or never.

He suddenly stopped and you crashed lightly into him. You were in front of his gate. Heeseung said his goodbyes to his family and his mother started crying softly, so he hugged her again and whispered soothing words in her ear. He then turned to you. There were already unshed tears filling your eyes and he grimaced, grabbing your hand. He hugged you and whispered in your ear "what if I don't leave?" when he said those words, you felt a chill run through you. What if you kissed him and that just increases his desire to not leave? It was only a what-if, but you couldn’t risk making that what if come true. So, you refrained from kissing him.

You pushed him lightly so you could look into his eyes. "If you don't leave, I'm gonna drag you there by your ear," you said sternly. "But... I'm going to miss you" he said sheepishly. "And I'm going to miss you, but we'll talk every chance we get," you said but he still looked torn on whether to get on the waiting train or not. "I'm gonna be fine," you said and shoved him subtly in the direction of the train "go," you told him softly, but he didn't move. He just kept looking at you. So, you shoved him harder "go," you said louder this time. He gave you one last glance and then turned around to get on the train.

It was difficult talking with Heeseung, he was always rehearsing or extremely tired, and you were always working or taking care of your father. But even though it was hard, your chat could show just how much you told each other about your day-to-day. He would talk to you about the song he was currently practicing, and you would tell him about the weird customer that came into the restaurant that day.

two whole years passed this way. dying to see each other but never really having the time or energy. You knew Heeseung called his mother at least once a week, but you were never there when he did. So that's why you considered it extremely weird to have him calling you while he knew you were at work. You chanced a glance at your boss only to see she was busy, so you answered the video call. You were met with his beautiful smiling face. You had seen many pictures that he normally sent to his mom but seeing him smiling in real-time even if it was through a screen made your heart flutter. He had gotten even more handsome if that was possible. "It's been way too long," he said "I've missed your ugly face," he added teasingly. you rolled your eyes but smiled, nonetheless. "I'm at work, can we talk later?" you whispered. "right sorry, it's just something really quick," he told you and then added, "you know the series Big hit and Belift are making to see who the next band to debut will be?" you hummed in agreement and he continued "well I got in." A huge smile made its way onto your face "Seungie that's amazing!" you all but screamed and your boss turned to look at you with a scowl. "Does your mom know? she's going to be so excited." He laughed looking at you fondly "no, you're the first person I wanted to tell" his eyes showed a certain softness that you couldn't quite pinpoint but made you feel giddy. "you're gonna do amazing," you said. "thanks" A weird silence settled over the both of you before he blurted out "I miss you" at the same time your boss grabbed your phone and hung up the call.

Once I-land was announced and the schedule was set for each Friday, you negotiated working extra hours on other days just so you could see Heeseung and feel proud of him. it was the first Friday I-land would be airing and you were currently sitting on the floor of Heeseung's house. His mother and father were both on the couch and his brother was on the individual sofa. "I can't believe my little brother is going to be in a series," His brother said, and you smiled openly proud. "shush it's starting," Mrs. Lee said patting her son's leg.

I-land was a beautiful place, and you were almost jealous of Heeseung. It was surreal seeing him on TV, and he looked so handsome. It was also funny seeing all the other boys fawn over their Hyung. You weren't even surprised when he got into I-land. He was that talented. Seeing him, looking so happy made you happy too. As it had always been, His smile made you smile too. You hadn't felt your heart so light since he had left. It was the best day you had in a while, but that only lasted until you got home. You had stayed at the Lee's household way longer than you would have stayed at work, and for that reason, you weren't home to pick your dad from the stairs and get him into bed.

When you stepped into the house, it was deadly quiet, but your father was sitting calmly in the living room. When he saw you walk in, he spoke. "Where have you been?" "At Heeseung's house," you said. You didn't understand, he didn't seem drunk, but you still couldn't remember the last time he had not been drunk. "Oh, so while you whore around I have to starve to death?" He asked hotly. you walked closer to your father and sniffed him. He reeked of alcohol. "and here I was thinking you could actually be sober" you murmured walking over to the kitchen to make him some dinner.

When you walked to the living room with a hot plate of food, you found your dad sprawled out drinking directly from a bottle. You grabbed his wrist and took the bottle away from him. "no, if I'm going to make you dinner and keep on looking after you, you have to at least drink less!" you exclaimed filled with rage. "you're just a little bitch" he growled and pushed you, making the hot soup land on your arm. Your father grabs the bottle and leaves you to clean up.

Heeseung was sitting eating breakfast while everybody talked cheerfully. "What's wrong Heeseung Hyung?" Jungwon asked and almost everyone turned to look at him. "What do you mean?" "Well, you seem kind of quiet" Geonu chirped. "It's just because I miss my family, I wish I could call them" Heeseung answered simply. "But that's not it," K Hyung said "I mean, we all miss our family" he added looking firmly at Heeseung. "There's a girl!" K exclaimed after a while. It was as if all hell had broken loose. "Tell us about her" somebody yelled and Heeseung felt himself blush. "No, no there's no girl”. "Then why are you blushing?" K asked. Heeseung groaned loudly and said, "her name is y/n, she's my best friend and she has no idea that I like her."

It was the Fourth Friday the show had been airing, and you were currently sprawled on the couch in the Lee's living room. You had now learned to leave food on the table for your dad, and to hide every alcohol bottle in the house. But it seemed you hadn't hidden them well enough because when you walked into your house you found your dad sitting on the living room floor drunk out of his mind and crying over a picture of your mom. All the lights in the house were off and the only light was in the form of a candle surrounding your father. you went to turn on some lights but even if you moved the switch, it wouldn’t turn on. You had forgotten to pay the electric bill. You walked clutching the wall all the way to the bathroom and looked under the loose floorboard where you kept the emergency money. It would all be fine. You would go first thing tomorrow and pay the bill. Except it wasn’t going to be okay. There was no money.

“Dad… did you take the money?” you asked. “yeah! bought some whiskey” he murmured happily and that was your limit for today. You felt tears slip down your cheeks as you ran all the way to the familiar door. The door where Heeseung had always waited for you with open arms. The only difference was that this time, the door opened to reveal a Lee that wasn’t the Lee you wanted. But you still let him envelop you in his open arms…

The next day you sold your phone to be able to pay for the electricity bill, and also save up a little bit. A month ago, the idea of selling your cell phone was completely out of the picture, because it was the only thing that kept you connected to Heeseung. But now… he was busy, and would probably be busy from here on, so you wouldn’t need to keep in contact with him.

Once Heeseung got hold of his phone again, the first person he called, to tell that he had made it to the second part of I-land, was you. But you didn’t answer, all he heard was a beep and a mechanical voice informing him the line had been disconnected. He felt himself grow worried immediately. He called his mom. She answered after two rings. “I got into the second part of the show,” he said almost breathlessly, and his mom screamed in joy. “I knew you would make it; you are so talented. my boy,” she said happily and they both spoke for a while before Heeseung asked. “What happened to y/n’s phone?” “she sold it” was his mother’s short answer “she is probably coming by later if you want to talk to her” she added. “Yeah, I’ll call later,” he said. But he didn’t call. It felt weird not knowing everything that was going on in his best friend’s life. Was this how it was going to be from now on? he hated to think that way, but it seemed as if you didn’t need him anymore.

The second part of I-land started and although you wanted to support Heeseung so badly, you just couldn’t because you were working extra shifts, saving up money, finding ways to stop your father from drinking, and trying to hold yourself up by putting together the pieces of your heart with tape. You had been sleeping at Heeseung’s family house to avoid interactions with your father, but you needed to get some clothes and things from the house. You gathered your courage and opened the door to the house and stepped inside. The house was completely quiet and the sight that greeted you made your blood run cold.

your father was passed out drunk in the middle of the living room. You swore loudly and dropped to the floor beside him to take his pulse. his heart was beating as strong as ever. You knew the best option was to take him to the emergency room, but you didn’t have a car, you didn’t have the money and you didn’t have the will to answer all the questions that were bound to be thrown your way in the hospital. So, gathering all your strength, you dragged your dad to the couch and then proceeded to tuck him in comfortably with a blanket. You decided to take his pulse every few minutes to make sure everything was okay; you also grabbed a bucket to put beside his face for when he started throwing up.

After about an hour you were starting to get extremely worried. tears were streaming down your face and your heart filled with so many emotions you couldn’t understand anything. You were angry at him because he was supposed to be your father, he should be taking care of you, making you happy, but here he was making you grow up before you had to. It wasn’t fair that you had to live through all of this. You were sad and worried because you didn’t want anything to happen to him. Yes, he was horrible with you, and most of the time you hated him, but he was still your father. You were also angry at yourself for feeling sorry for the person who had made your life miserable. Your dad suddenly grunted and stirred on the couch. You felt like oxygen could finally enter your lungs.

You had already grabbed everything you needed and put it into a backpack. Seeing as you had nothing else to do while he woke up, you let anger overtake you. Angry tears streamed down your face as you raided the house looking for every bottle of alcohol you could find. gathering everything in the kitchen, you started opening them and emptying them in the sink not caring about how much noise you were making, and that was your mistake. You were down to the last bottle when you heard a loud cry behind you, and a pair of hands grabbed you, flinging you to the other side of the kitchen.

Your cheek impacted against the oven and you felt something hot trickle down and mingle with your tears. “WHAT DID YOU DO!?” your father asked, and you looked at him blabbering like a fish out of the water “since you decided to be a bitch, give me money to buy more” he added firmly, and although you were shaking with all your might, you said “no” “What did you say?” he said, approaching you and you scrambled to your feet. “I said no!” you screamed “I deserve a father, not this poor attempt you’ve been giving me. You always talk about how YOU lost her, how YOU miss her, how YOU don’t know how to live without her. But let me tell you that I LOST HER TOO!” you continued “and not only did I lose her, but I also lost you too” you finished only to feel a hard slap against your bleeding cheek.

You could see so much anger in his eyes, you immediately started backing up until your back hit the wall. He walked to you and clasped his hand around your throat. “Don’t you fucking dare talk about her” he said through clenched teeth. You were trying but failing miserably at getting air in your system and he seemed to notice you were becoming purple because he let go. You dropped to the ground panting wildly trying to compose your erratic breathing and he kicked you. You grunted in pain. “leave and don’t ever come back,” he said “I don’t even want to see you in this town. If you stay here I’ll know where to find you and not only will I hurt you, but I will also hurt your precious boyfriend’s family” He finished menacingly and you ran grabbing the backpack on your way out. It was already getting dark, so you knew you would have to wait until tomorrow to be able to do something. You decided to go to the people that had treated you better than your own family.

Mrs. Lee heard a knock on the door and went to open it, knowing she would find y/n on the other side. But what she couldn’t have known was that she would find y/n crying, with blood all over her face and the beginning of bruises on her neck. “God! what happened?” she asked worriedly ushering you in. you could barely talk, but in between your sobs, you managed to choke out “my dad” and Mrs. Lee didn’t need any more information to understand what had happened.

Heeseung had no way of knowing that while he was celebrating having obtained second place in the test for that week, you were having the worst day of your life. His prize for obtaining second place was the right to make one phone call. He immediately thought of you, but then remembered you didn’t have a phone anymore. He settled with calling his brother who answered on the fifth ring. “Hello?” “Hyung” Heeseung greeted happily.

You were standing in the kitchen with Heeseung’s brother talking about what had happened when his phone rang. After picking it up a giant smile spread on his face. “Heeseung-ah!” he exclaimed, “what’s going on?” you could hear Heeseung’s giggles through the phone, so when his brother looked at you asking for permission to tell him what had happened, you softly shook your head.

Heeseung laughed loudly as his brother made fun of him and told him that Jay was more handsome than him. He then spoke with his mom, who gave him encouraging words and told him how much she missed and loved him. All this while he knew the cameras were on him, but to speak with the person he wanted to speak to, he wanted to be truly alone. So, he headed to the bathroom. “Mom is y/n there?” he asked softly before his mother could hang up.

what Heeseung didn’t know was that he was on speaker mode and you had heard everything. you nodded softly at Heeseung’s mom and she handed you the phone. “hi” you breathed and Heeseung felt as if his heart wanted to leave his body and find yours. “I’ve missed you,” he said, and you told him that you had also missed him. “I know you probably don’t have much time so I’ll be quick” you started “you are doing amazing on the show and I know for sure that you will debut, and you will be a great idol, and you will help thousands of people to be better just like you did with me.” “Why are you speaking like this?” he asked. “let me finish,” you said, and he kept quiet so you continued “just promise me you won’t forget who you are, and whenever you feel like you can’t, remember all the times you helped me achieve something and believe I am right there with you helping you achieve it” you exhaled and he whispered, “I promise.” “Seungie” you also whispered. “yeah?” “I like you, as more than a friend. I have for a while now” you told him “and don’t say anything, go win the competition and then we’ll talk.” you said your goodbyes and you both stared at the phone similarly, except that the emotions for both of you were completely different.

He was looking at the phone with the biggest smile he could muster. He was genuinely happy. You liked him and he liked you. And once he got to debut and everything, he would help you leave your father’s house, and you would both be happy. He couldn’t wait for what tomorrow would bring. You were looking at the phone while tears dripped down your face, knowing that that was the last time you would speak to him because the next day you would be leaving and not looking back. You dreaded what tomorrow would bring.

Heeseung was picked through the global vote, to debut as a member of Enhypen. Once he was backstage getting ready for a photoshoot after the results had been announced, Heeseung called his mom. He was begging that you were there with her. "Mom!" He said happily. "Honey we just saw it all live. We are so proud of you" she said and after a couple of questions from her, Heeseung was finally able to ask the question that he had been dying to ask since his mom had picked up. "Is y/n there?" he asked. “Heeseung… Uhm...she left.” “oh, isn’t it late for her to be working?” “No Heeseung-ah, things hadn’t been great between y/n and her father, she was basically living here. The day you called, she had gone home to get some things and she came back beaten black and blue. He almost killed her. You called but she didn’t want to worry or distract you with her problems, we didn’t think much of it because we assumed, she would eventually tell you everything. But the next day, we woke up and she was gone with all her things, and we haven’t heard anything from her… that was weeks ago” His mom said. A heavy silence settled between them. “Are you okay honey?” his mother asked worriedly. “I-I am mom… C-can I call you lat-ter?” he stuttered quickly into the phone and before she could give an affirmative, he was already hanging up.

Heeseung thought he was gonna be sick. Fuck, fuck you were gone, and he had no idea what to do to find you. He couldn’t call you; you had no phone. He couldn’t ask your father… because well he was a bastard. They couldn’t report you as a missing person because you were an adult, and they weren’t your family. He felt the beginning of a panic attack. He couldn’t breathe knowing that he might never see you again, never hug you again, he would never be able to kiss you, and that hurt. Jungwon noticed his Hyung was looking pale and having trouble breathing on the car ride to their new dorm. “are you okay?” he asked but Heeseung was so lost in his thoughts that he didn’t seem to hear him. all the boys looked at Heeseung waiting for his answer, but nothing came. Sunoo shoved his elder lightly and Heeseung snapped out of it looking at them with an almost scared look on his face. The other boys were worried, but they also knew that they were being recorded for “Enhypen & Hi” so when Heeseung said he would tell them later, they all agreed quietly. Once they were all in the comfort of their own beds and the cameras had been turned off, Heeseung told them everything. From the death of your mother, his feelings for you, your feelings for him, your abusive father, and the fact you had run away, and he would never see you again. None of the boys knew what to say. They understood why you had run away, but they could also see how much it was hurting their Hyung. They couldn’t do much more than telling Heeseung that everything would be fine, even when they had no idea if that was true.

Heeseung debuted. Of course, he debuted. He was talented, kind-hearted, and drop-dead gorgeous. You felt proud.

But you also felt broken...

You were currently working cleaning tables and washing dishes in a run-down restaurant. The pay wasn’t the best, but it was what you could get. It kept you alive, fed... with a roof over your head, but most importantly safe and away from your dad. You missed the Lee’s, missed Heeseung’s mom’s delightful cooking and their warm house. You missed their stories and their affection. But most of all you missed Heeseung. And seeing him on tv doing interviews, talking about his inspirations, and looking the happiest you had ever seen him, or on billboards looking fantastic modeling some new item of clothing or announcing some brand, was a bittersweet pill. It was bitter because you were selfish. And you wanted to be with him, you wanted his beautiful smiles to be only for you like they always had been. You were also jealous of the girls who now got to hear him sing, and you wished that things were different. But they weren’t different and there was nothing you could do about it. But it was sweet because you loved him, and he was happy. He had achieved his goals and the band had now been going for two years strong. He was a fan favorite, he had money, he was surrounded by friends, and still had a good relationship with his family. And at the end of the day, you really couldn’t ask for more. If he was happy, so were you.

It had been almost four years since you had run away. You were sharing an apartment in a neighborhood where you finally didn’t have to worry about somebody breaking and entering in the middle of the night. Your roommate was your co-worker at one of the finest restaurants in Seoul. You were a waitress, and the pay was good. you finally felt financially and emotionally stable. Your life finally felt okay. Of course, you still missed Heeseung, he was the love of your life. But you didn’t think about him as often. You knew he was still a part of Enhypen because you saw him in ads and interviews, but you didn’t try to know much about him because it didn’t do you any good to still be pining after him. You had to move on.

The two maknaes had been yapping Heeseung’s ears off for about a week, constantly talking about the new hip restaurant in Seoul and how they were really dying to go try it. He wasn’t surprised when their manager told them that everything had been arranged and they would be going to dinner at that restaurant. supposedly, the restaurant had really good food and a very hip theme, but he really hadn’t paid much attention to what Sunoo had been saying.

you arrived for your shift at the restaurant and your boss Mina called you to the side before you could start. “Y/n-shi, I just wanted to ask if you could handle a couple of VIP customers that are coming at seven,” she said. “Uhm yeah of course” “Great, the hostess will guide them to their separate table and tell you so you can serve them. Is that alright?” Mina asked. “Yeah, it’s fine,” you said, and she reminded you to be on your best behavior before leaving you to work.

The hostess guided them to a separate room with a courteous smile and Heeseung sat in between jake and jay. They were handed menus and told their waitress would be with them in a bit. The boys were talking loudly while Heeseung had his head stuck in the menu reading over what he wanted to eat.

The hostess of the restaurant told you that the VIP customers were waiting at their private table, so you started walking there while you redid your high ponytail. once you got to the table you cleared your throat and grabbed your notepad and your pen. “Hello, my name is y/n and I will be your server tonight,” you said without looking up. And you did not look up until you heard an interested sound. In front of you were the boys from Enhypen and a very pale-looking Heeseung.

“Oh! you have the same name as the girl Hyung used to love” The one you recognized as Niki said looking at Heeseung and then back at you. Niki noticed you were both looking at each other with your eyes wide open and pale in the face and immediately shut up. Heeseung was here. sitting right in front of you. He looked so grown up, and so handsome. seeing him there made you want to just go up to him and hug him. “it’s really you?” Heeseung said almost in a whisper “I’m not dreaming?” he added and that snapped you out of your thoughts. “I-can get-t someone else to waiter you if-f it’s too uncomfortable” you rushed out tripping over your words. You turned hastily around ready to bolt out of the room before you had to face further embarrassment. “wait!” a voice called, but it wasn’t Heeseung’s. You turned back to them “you’re really Heeseung’s y/n?” Jungwon added. your heart fluttered wildly at the thought of being Heeseung’s. You were lost for words, so you nodded softly playing with your hands. Jay suddenly spoke up “uhm… let’s all go to the bathroom,” he said awkwardly shoving all of the members in the direction of the bathroom so you and Heeseung could talk in private.

Heeseung could feel his hands sweating. He no longer knew how to talk to you, or at least he didn’t know how to start this conversation. “I missed you” he suddenly blurted out and saw how your cheeks filled with color. “I missed you too,” you said, and he felt his heart start to thump at a crazy pace. During the last few years, he had told his members many times that he was over you, but that just wasn’t true. He decided to stand up because it felt weird having this conversation when you were both in different levels of height. “Why didn’t you tell me about what happened with your dad?” he asked, “or why didn’t you stay and let my family help you?” he added. “he threatened me, that if I stayed, he would not only harm me but also your family and I...” you let silence overtake the room while you put your ideas in order. “I just couldn’t let that happen.” Your eyes showed so much emotion that he took a step closer and you took a shaky intake of breath. “And I didn’t tell you because you would’ve wanted to help, but I couldn’t ask for your help when you were that close to achieving your dreams,” you said looking at the wall on your left. Heeseung suddenly invaded your personal space and engulfed you in a hug. you were frozen to the spot for a couple of seconds, but then you hugged him back. “I am so glad you are okay. I was so worried” he whispered into the hug and you felt tears start to sting at your eyes. “You told me the night I called you that you liked me, do you still like me?” he asked, and you gave a shy nod. His eyes lit up and he grabbed your chin. “That night, you also told me not to say anything until I debuted, and I finally debuted. So here it is I love you, I have for a while now” he said and let his hand engulf your cheek while his lips came onto yours in a kiss.

#enhypen #enhypen fic #lee heeseung #park jongseong #sim jaeyun #park sunghoon #kim sunoo #yang jungwon #nishimura riki #engene #kpop #enhypen imagines #enhypen fluff #enhypen scenarios

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ahgaseda · 5 years ago

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enough | six

even if everyone else leaves me, you’re enough for me, you’re my only one, stand by me forever, only you, just you...

summary : to survive as a single woman in the big city, you resort to letting rich men pay for your company, but never anticipated that your first client would be the boy you once loved, Jinyoung.

warnings : strong profanity, explicit dialogue, references to prostitution, mentions of gang activity, graphic sexual content, potentially triggering elements involving mental health, panic attacks, etc.

miniseries chapters : one / two / three / four / five / six / seven

It wasn’t until you stepped inside your condo that your heart began to calm. Arguing with Jinyoung still excited you like hell, made something reckless rush through your veins. The two of you were just as hot-headed and stubborn as ever.

Sometimes, you were desperate to get a reaction out of him. No matter how big or small. Especially when he was guarded, which was almost always. It was then you realized that regardless of how many years had passed, you and Jinyoung were still the same two kids wildly and hopelessly in love with each other.

It didn’t matter what was said and done, there would always be the push and pull. You would always find your way back to each other. Your fates were intertwined, destined to tangle despite the distance between you. In a way, you and Jinyoung were doomed to be stuck with each other forever.

With a shake of your head, you chuckled quietly to yourself. Less than an hour had passed and you already missed him. It was pathetic and deeply wounded your pride.

Striding toward the bedroom, you stopped in your tracks when Jackson proceeded to make himself comfortable on the living room sofa.

Brows stitching, you asked confusedly, “Um, what are you doing?”

Jackson glanced at you and flashed that grin of his, replying coolly, “Oh, Jinyoung asked me to spend the night.”

You rolled your eyes and retorted, “Why? To make sure I don’t fuck anyone?”

“Of course not,” Jackson scoffed. “Don’t be a brat.”

You snorted. Under the circumstances, only Jackson could get away with calling you that. Then, a dark thought crossed your mind and you asked, “Am I in some kind of danger?”

“Absolutely not,” Jackson said, like a seasoned politician. It technically wasn’t a lie, he reasoned. You were perfectly safe with him in the next room.

“Okay,” you sighed, knowing neither Jackson or Jinyoung would ever readily admit anything of that nature to you.

In the penthouse, Jinyoung sat pensively by the fireplace, a glass of hard liquor in his hand. He rattled the ice cubes before taking another swig.

Relentless and systematic, he had been undermining Jiwon. Turning his allies against him. Alerting his enemies to his moves. Jinyoung knew how to deal with potential threats, but that did nothing for the fact you were now in the line of fire.

Jiwon’s tactics had reminded Jinyoung why he stayed away for as long as he did, why he made sure to never link the two of you together. Until you forced his hand. It was a dangerous business, his line of work. And there was a reason why men in his position never kept lovers more than one night.

Jinyoung rubbed his forehead where a throb and ache were festering; a side-effect of thinking too damn long and hard.

He couldn’t protect you every minute of every day. You had a life to lead, a dream you had been working toward for as long as he had known and loved you. It wasn’t fair for him to control your every move, to make you live in a constant state of fear that at any moment someone could try to take you away just to punish him.

“I have to get out,” Jinyoung whispered to himself, running a hand down his face. For a long time, Jinyoung had been drunk on the power his status gave him. For once in his life, he had control in the hellfires that surrounded him.

But he wasn’t fireproof.

He could let it all go for you, couldn’t he? He wouldn’t think twice when it came to starting over for your sake. At this point, Jinyoung was ready to give up everything just for the chance to wake up next to you each and every morning.

The wheels were turning in his head. He mapped all the ties in his mind - the ones he would have to sever. Nothing could keep him tethered to this life. He would have to start from nothing.

When the phone rang and jolted him from his reverie, Jinyoung glared at the thing in annoyance, softening only when he saw your name and photo on the screen.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” he asked gruffly.

You frowned and wished you could stare daggers into his face. “Well, hello to you, too,” you smarted back.

Jinyoung felt his lip twitch with amusement at your tone and said, “I can’t talk long.”

You were agitated by his dismissal of you, which could only mean he was in deep thought and not to be disturbed, but you would be damned if you let Park Jinyoung tell you what to do.

Getting comfortable in bed, you pulled the blanket up to your chest and huffed, “Fine. I’ll keep this short. Do you think we will ever be able to move past any of this?”

Jinyoung chortled. “I’m an insufferable grudge holder.”

It went without saying you knew that better than anyone. “And I run from my problems.”

Jinyoung’s wrath flickered and he snapped, “I was a problem?”

You flinched, playful smile vanishing from your face as emotion bubbled in your chest, and quickly stammered, “That’s not what I meant…”

“I know,” he interjected, heaving a sigh. Jinyong realized one of these days he would have to let that go, but for now, it continued to burn a massive, gaping hole inside of him.

You felt small, like a child begging for forgiveness after running away from home with her head hung low. “You weren’t what I was running from,” you countered softly.

“You don’t have to explain yourself,” said Jinyoung. But I wish you would.

“Jinyoung, you saw me,” you replied, as if reading his mind. “Everyday I had to look you in the eyes and see how fucking terrified you were when you looked at me.”

Jinyoung remembered that, though he tried desperately not to. There were countless nights he tried to drown the image of you out of his mind, withering away before his very eyes. “We were in it together,” he whispered, hurt.

He wasn’t wrong, but he wasn’t right either. Yes, Jinyoung was always by your side, but he didn’t know the battles raging inside of you. He would never know the agony you felt. “I was the only one in that car,” you spoke firmly.

Jinyoung moved the phone from his mouth, stifling his rage. He would never forget the day he almost lost you forever, but even though you were back safe in his arms, he saw the light had faded from your eyes. The girl he knew and loved had left him.

At his silence, you were finally given the chance to say your peace. “I became defined by my trauma. I was dying inside little by little every day. I was losing who I was. The girl you fell in love with was fading away until I was just this shell of a person I used to be.”

Jinyoung swallowed the lump in his throat. “You had to get out.”

You nodded, though he couldn’t see. “I did.”

“I respect you for saving yourself, but I resented you for not saving me, too,” Jinyoung confessed, his voice nearly breaking.

Tears welled in his eyes. The hurt was festering inside him again. He relived the day you left him over and over until it was branded permanently across his memory. He waited for the pain to dull, to fade, but time never healed that wound.

“I wanted to,” you murmured, a tear escaping down your cheek. “When I came here I had a plan. I would work my ass off by night and go to school by day. I wanted to make a life for us and I wanted to be the girl I always dreamed of being.”

Jinyoung straightened his shoulders and buried his emotions as he always did. He couldn’t dwell on them. The more he did, the more the hole in his chest deepened. It threatened to rip him at the seams. “So, we went different ways toward the same goal.”

Your first instinct was to argue, but you mulled. “I guess we did.”

“You weren’t the only one who changed,” Jinyoung spoke in a low tone, rising from his chair to top off his glass. “If you were defined by your trauma, then I was defined by my anger. I let it put me on paths I would have never gone otherwise.”

You often thought of Jinyoung after you left. Did he tear the house to pieces? Did he scream and cry until his lungs gave out? You imagined he burned every picture that ever existed of you and him together.

“Jinyoung, I wanted to take you with me,” you started, biting your lip.

He swallowed down the liquor, gritting his teeth at the familiar burn down his throat, and continued, “I know, but I joined the gangs. That’s not your fault.”

“You did it because of me,” you insisted. “Because of what happened to me.”

Jinyoung paused. The image of you in the hospital - bloodied and bruised - had broken the last of the goodness in him. Jinyoung had danced with the darkness, flirted with the danger, but you leaving him on that driveway was the breaking point; the moment the dance ended and he let the darkness consume him.

“I had always known I would die for you if I had to,” Jinyoung finally said. “When I realized I was willing to kill for you, it changed me.”

“I regret it,” you whispered, face tensing with more tears. “I regret leaving you.”

“Don’t,” Jinyoung replied levelly, though he wanted nothing more than to hold you in his arms. “We are who we are because of the choices we made. Like it or not, we are all defined by the bad shit that happened in our lives.”

You sighed loudly, rubbing at your tears with a fist. “You’re right.”

He laughed in surprise and joked, “Someone get that on tape.”

You chuckled, relieved to feel the humor cutting through the tension. After a short pause, you told him, “Goodnight, Jinyoung. I love you.”

“Sleep well, baby,” he said, taking another gulp. “I love you, too.”

You hung up the phone and curled back into bed. The weight of his words kept you awake, haunted by the depths of their meaning and their consequences.

When I realized I was willing to kill for you, it changed me...

You swallowed, imagining Jinyoung’s hands dripping with blood as they came to settle around your throat. But you didn’t cry out in fear, you moaned in pleasure.

Shaking the imagery from your mind, you eventually drifted to restless sleep.

The next morning, you woke to your phone ringing. Heart thudding at the prospect of talking to Jinyoung again, all things considered, you roused yourself and grabbed your phone from the nightstand. Excitement quickly dissipated when you saw the caller.

“Hey, Hoseok,” you answered sleepily. “How are you?”

“I’m sorry to wake you,” he replied, apologetic. “I was calling to ask you that.”

You rose from the bed, stepping toward the window to see what weather to expect for the day ahead. “I’m okay. What can I do for you?”

Hoseok shuffled on the other line and he couldn’t find his voice for a moment, but finally said, “This is really inappropriate of me, but would you like to meet for lunch?”

“Sure,” you responded, brow furrowing. “Why would that be inappropriate?”

“Since we don’t work together anymore.”

You rolled your eyes at his concern and replied, “I still consider you a friend, Hoseok.”

Hoseok was relieved to hear that, but it only worsened his guilt. “I want to apologize and make things right with you. Is that okay?”

The awkwardness from the night before was still clearly present, but it did nothing to undermine the past four years of having Hoseok as a faithful friend and protector. You tried to put him at ease as best you could. “You don’t need to do either. We’re fine. But I’m not opposed to grabbing a bite to eat with you, for old times’ sake.”

“Alright,” Hoseok said, and you could practically hear his smile. “See you at the usual.”

“See you there.”

You hung up and looked at your phone for a moment. Jinyoung had accused Hoseok of having some kind of feelings toward you. Hoseok didn’t deny it, but he didn’t really say anything either. You wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. Hoseok had done nothing but be good to you since the day you met him.

Stepping out of the bedroom whilst fastening your earring, Jackson glanced up and asked, “Well, where are you going all dolled up?”

The pleated skirt stopped just above your knees and the sheer white blouse was loose-fitting over your black tank top. It was supposed to be a beautiful day and you dressed accordingly.

“I’m going to lunch with Hoseok,” you told him nonchalantly.

Jackson’s countenance changed on a dime. It was the first time he used a heavy tone with you. “Is that wise?”

Preempting an argument, you countered patiently, “Jacks, listen. He was there for me when I had nothing and no one. Besides, he’s a bodyguard. He won’t let anything happen to me.”

Jackson’s gaze was stern, you almost faltered, but with a sigh, he relented, “I will be right outside the entire time. Non-negotiable.”

“Fine,” you said with a short nod, thanking him for his understanding.

Meanwhile, Yugyeom was thrilled to have something to do. He opened the back door to the Range Rover for you, whistling at your dressed up self. You waved him away with a grin and hopped inside.

Given it was still quite early in the day, the small restaurant was almost empty. You stepped inside, spotting Hoseok at one of the tables. He stood and greeted you warmly, waiting for you to sit before he returned to his seat.

“I hope I didn’t get you into any trouble with the boss,” you spoke quietly.

“Not at all,” Hoseok replied, waving away your worry. “Business as usual today. Some of the girls have been asking about you.”

Your heart clenched a little at that. You were grateful for the friends you made at the agency, but by the nature of the business, no one bonded too closely. “I miss them already.”

Hoseok shifted in his seat and began, “I, uh, asked you here for a reason.”

You assumed to clear the air, but something about his visible discomfort put you on edge. “Let’s hear it,” you said as the waiter set a glass of water before you.

Hoseok paused until the server was out of earshot to say, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

His eyes were heavy as they bore into yours and he spoke under his breath, “For what I’m about to do.”

Your brows stitched.

Hoseok withdrew a folder from behind him and placed it on the table before you. “You know nothing about Jinyoung.”

Your heart sank, but a wave of rage surmounted your disappointment. After a pause, you murmured softly, “I’m the only one that knows him.”

“You know the old him,” Hoseok told you with a shake of his head and proceeded to pull a photo from the file.

At the tiniest glimpse of blood, you slammed your hands down over his, eyes fixated to his face. You didn’t know you were capable of the level of anger surging through your body and your voice came out a low growl, “Hoseok, I’m warning you.”

Hoseok hesitated. You were seething before him, gripping his hands and keeping them on the counter, blocking the image from view. Slipping from your grasp and placing a hand over yours tenderly, he warned, “I don’t want you to get into bed with a man like that.”

You bristled and snapped, “Hoseok, I’m not naive. I know everyone likes to think I’m the little girl that’s just a plaything for a powerful man. Every girl in the agency gets into bed with bad men, worse men. The only difference is your feelings for me.”

Hoseok blinked.

Fear crept up your spine. Emotion gripped your throat tight. Lips trembling, you thought, Please don’t show me the monster I created.

Hoseok lowered his head, sighing loudly. Without another word, he pulled the photo from beneath your hands and tucked it back inside the folder.

Seeing him back down, you asked, “You know who told Seokjin about me and Jinyoung?”

“Yes.”

“Who?”

“An interested party,” came a voice behind you.

As you turned, the man sitting blithely at the table behind yours had moved to your side. He spoke your name in greeting, a sinister smile plastered to his face, and said, “I’m Jiwon, a former employee of Jinyoung’s.”

“Disgruntled, it would seem,” you deadpanned.

“Why don’t you hand me that phone?” he sneered, glancing down at your lap and holding out his hand.

Your phone had been in your right hand, concealed beneath the table, and you were attempting to text without looking, hoping to get a message off to Yugyeom or Jackson or even Jinyoung, for all you cared.

Shifting your gaze to Hoseok, you noticed the shame on his face before he hung his head.

“No, I think I’ll hang onto it,” you replied, hiding your phone behind your back.

Jiwon exhaled loudly for dramatic effect as he sidled into the seat next to you, pulling a switchblade from his pocket. The bite of metal was suddenly cold against your waist, even through the fabric of your shirt.

You looked down at the blade and swallowed the lump in your throat. It all made sense now. Jackson staying over. Being hesitant to let you go to lunch. You were in danger. And now Jackson was right outside, but had no idea you were at a stranger’s mercy.

Bringing your gaze back to his face, you asked, “Are you going to stab me in the middle of a restaurant, Jiwon?”

Jiwon leaned in and whispered in your ear, “Believe me when I say I’ve done much, much worse.”

You believed him. Trapped between him and the wall, there was nowhere for you to run, no way to escape. With a frown, you handed him the phone without further resistance.

“What do you want?”

Jiwon slipped your phone into his back pocket and sang, “I want to open your pretty little eyes. Help you see the light where Jinyoung is concerned.”

You tried to stay calm, appearing unaffected. Instead, you feigned annoyance. “If you have a problem, take it up with him. I’m just his toy.”

“Nah, sweetheart,” he crooned, stroking a finger over your cheek. “You’re his baby.”

Everything about this man repulsed you and you tried to lean away, but the switchblade followed, staying pressed to your side. “Then, you know you should leave me alone,” you warned.

Jiwon took your threat in stride and said, “He started off small after you left him. Guns, drugs, women. Easy to imagine Jinyoung as a pimp, isn’t it?”

Your eyes burned.

“With patience and dedication, he ascended the ranks. Made a name for himself. He’s ruthless and rightly feared in the underground.”

You knew you were on the verge of tears, but above everything else, you couldn’t risk crying in front of this man. “Stop,” you choked out.

“Don’t you wanna know where all the money comes from? How he’s able to spoil his baby girl like he does,” Jiwon taunted, spinning a lock of your hair around his finger as he toyed with you. “Rich and powerful people have problems that can’t be seen or they will lose everything. Jinyoung is the one they call to fix those problems.”

“You’re lying.” You were adamant, but anyone could tell you believed him. You knew he was telling the truth.

“Am I?” Jiwon questioned, motioning to the table. “Look at the file. I got it for you. That’s a government official file. Everything they have on him.”

You looked at the manila folder before you and the next words out of your mouth surprised even you, “I don’t care. Whatever’s he done… I still love him.”

Jiwon cocked a brow. “Anything?”

“I can’t stop loving him,” you muttered in defeat. “I tried.”

Jiwon sighed yet again. “Oh, baby girl. If I can’t turn you against him, then I have no choice but to take you away from him.”

“Jiwon,” Hoseok warned. That clearly wasn’t part of the deal when he gave his cooperation.

“You’re done,” Jiwon shot back with a pointed finger.

Your eyes widened as Jiwon tugged harshly on your arm and you exclaimed, “Hoseok, you would rather I be dead than with Jinyoung?”

Jiwon pressed the blade to your side, glancing around. “Get up and walk. Don’t make a scene.”

A phone rang in the background. The owner of the restaurant answered and not a moment later, he began yelling to close down the shop.

“Shit, he’s on to me,” Jiwon cursed, leaping to his feet and hoisting you up violently. “Let’s go, baby bird.”

You struggled - it was your body’s natural instinct - and yelled, “If you’re just gonna kill me anyway, I won’t make it easier for you.”

Jiwon weighed his options. He needed you; you were the only card left to play, but you had no intention of going quietly. The situation was devolving. The restaurant cleared out. And Hoseok was starting to move toward you.

“Jiwon,” shouted a familiar voice.

You caught a glimpse of Jackson barreling inside before Jiwon released you, turning tail and running as his life depended on it. You staggered with adrenaline into Hoseok’s arms, pushing him away angrily.

“Hoseok, get out of here,” you snapped, trembling with nerves. “For the years you took care of me, I can give you this one chance. I may not be able to save you when he gets here.”

Hoseok gave you a parting glance filled with regret before reaching for the folder on the table.

“No, that’s mine. Remember?” you spoke under your breath.

Hoseok looked between you and the file, then he left without a goodbye or an apology.

Though you expected neither.

You grabbed the folder and hurriedly stuffed it into your purse, plopping down onto your seat and grabbing your untouched glass of water with a shaky hand.

The door opened and by the slow, drawn-out footsteps, you knew exactly who was coming.

Jinyoung slipped into the seat across from you, trying desperately to conceal the turmoil on his face.

“Are you…,” he began unsurely.

“Don’t,” you interrupted, refusing to look at him. Your blood was boiling.

Jinyoung exhaled loudly through his nose and respected your wishes. For a moment or two, you sat there in silence until you finished your glass of water.

“Are you happy?” you finally forced the words out. “Is this what you wanted?”

He frowned.

Gazing down at your trembling hands, you murmured, “You know, that day they kidnapped me, I swore I would never go through that again. If anyone ever tried to take me, I would fight like hell. I would rather die than be taken to whatever horror they had waiting for me.”

“Baby…,” Jinyoung started, wanting to silence you. This was dangerous territory for him. He couldn’t bear to hear anymore.

You set your jaw. “We both know what was gonna happen to me, Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung rubbed his hands over his face. He couldn’t stomach it; he never could. Even at the hospital, he refused to listen when the police tried to tell him about the men who had taken you and what their intentions were. The town had been descending deeper and deeper into depravity.

And even though salvation had come, you still lost a part of yourself. Your peace. Your joy. From that moment on, you stopped seeing people. You only saw danger.

Jackson rounded the corner, approaching swiftly. “Jinyoung, we got him. What do you want to do?”

Jinyoung looked at you for a moment. You still refused to meet his eyes. In fact, your attention remained fixated on your shaking hands. And he was overcome with hatred.

“I’ll be right back.”

You stood sharply in dissension and called after him, “Jinyoung.”

Your lover rounded on you, speaking darkly and slowly, “Sit.”

Everything in you resisted for the sake of your stubbornness and pride, but your body obeyed him without a second thought. The Jinyoung standing before you was an entirely different animal.

Your eyes lingered on his back as he stepped out of your sight.

Jinyoung ambled into the alleyway, devoid of expression as he approached the dead end. Jiwon was there on his knees, Jaebeom standing over him with a fist in his hair.

“Jiwon, I knew you were crazy, but I never thought you to be stupid,” Jinyoung chastised, taking your phone from Jaebeom’s outstretched hand.

Jiwon spat blood from his mouth. Jackson had not hesitated to inflict punishment on him when caught, resulting in the busted lip and broken nose. “I’m flattered,” he grumbled, obstinate.

Jinyoung slipped his hands in his pockets and drifted closer, appearing almost indifferent. The bloodied sight was pleasing to his eyes, fanning the fires of his rage.

“I admit, you had me for a moment, but all you did was wake the bear.”

“I already screwed you, Jinyoung-ie,” Jiwon taunted, flashing a grin of crimson-stained teeth. “I gave them every shred of condemnable shit I have on you.”

Jaebeom clocked a glance at Jinyoung. He knew what that meant. Jackson clenched his jaw, enraged.

Jinyoung didn’t flinch, didn’t bat an eye. “Then, I’m doing you a favor. There is no life on these streets for a snitch.”

Jiwon laughed. “No point in killing me. You’re going to lose her. I won.”

“I win,” Jinyoung replied. “I’m the one keeping my life.”

The blood drained from Jiwon’s face. The rebellion left him and he exclaimed, “Really, Jinyoung? You’re gonna kill me in broad daylight over this shit?"

Jinyoung glared and retorted, “I would gladly kill you in the middle of Time fucking Square.”

Jiwon whimpered. It finally sank in what a mistake he had made.

Jinyoung crouched down, his eyes scalding. He never made decisions out of vengeance, only strategy, only necessity. Which was what Jiwon had been banking on. But there was a first for everything. Staring his enemy in the face, he whispered, “You put your hands on my girl.”

Jiwon swallowed.

Jinyoung lifted back to full height and gave a single nod to Jaebeom. “Do it.”

Jaebeom pulled the gun from his belt and cocked back the chamber.

“Yugyeom, I swear,” you said sharply, yanking your hand from his grasp. Poor Yugyeom had been trying to usher you into the waiting car and failing spectacularly.

Jinyoung emerged from the alleyway and onto the sidewalk. You overlapped your arms, ignoring Yugyeom’s pleas. Jinyoung took one look at you and knew that you had far surpassed furious.

“What the hell is going on?” you asked loudly. “Why haven’t you called the police?”

Jinyoung dragged his feet to you, outstretching his arm with your phone in hand.

You took your phone, staring down at the screen and seeing your own reflection. It hit you. Jiwon was dead. Threatening you had cost him his life.

“Baby…,” Jinyoung began, ready to face your wrath.

You took a step back at his approach and cried, “What did you get me into?”

Jinyoung lowered his head.

You hissed, gritting your teeth, “This is exactly the life I didn’t want for us!”

“I know.”

That infuriated you. He never sounded so indifferent, so unaffected by something that shredded the fabric of who you were, but you knew he was only hiding. Jinyoung devoted all of his energy to appearing strong on the surface.

“I can’t do this,” you whimpered. “I can’t live in that kind of fear every day. You of all people know that.”

“Come here,” Jinyoung crooned, sliding his hand to the nape of your neck and tucking you into his arms, your face buried against his chest where you belonged.

“No,” you snapped, pushing him back and storming away, wiping your tears roughly with the back of your hand. You had no idea where you were going, just that you needed to get away from him.

Jinyoung knew that, too, and he trudged behind you, always a few steps in your wake. “Where are you going?” he asked, annoyed.

You continued down the sidewalk, aimless and in denial, and shouted, “I’m not doing this. I’m not going through this again.”

“Through what?”

You said nothing.

Jinyoung felt his heart sink somewhere into his stomach. He quickened his pace, grabbing your arm and spinning you round to face him. “Stop and talk to me,” he yelled, afraid.

“You’re going to make me do this all over again,” you spat, shoving his hands away.

Jinyoung was at his breaking point and though he never dared raise his voice at you, this time he screamed, “What the hell am I making you do? Spit it out!”

“Leave you!”

Jinyoung paused, stunned into silence.

You staggered, covering your face with both hands as the tears began to flow. “It killed me last time. It really killed me. I won’t survive a second time.”

Jinyoung frowned and his voice was barely above a whisper when he said, “Then, don’t.”

You shrugged, running out of energy. “What choice do I have?”

“You have me,” Jinyoung snapped, clasping your arms like he was about to shake some sense into you. “We have each other. That’s enough!”

You lowered your gaze to the road beneath your shoes. “I’m sorry.”

Jinyoung refused to listen, refused to believe for a second you would do this. “No.”

“Let go of me,” you whimpered, trying to pry yourself from his grasp.

Jinyoung was too strong and he held you with every fiber of his being. “I’m not letting you leave again,” he hissed bitterly. “I was young and stupid last time, but not anymore.”

What a fool you must have looked; standing on the sidewalk yelling at your lover like something out of a second rate drama. “Jinyoung…”

Jinyoung’s voice was filled with conviction, it seeped into the air around you to the point you could feel his fire inside yourself. “You said it killed you before. Well, it killed me, too! When are you going to realize we can’t live without each other?”

It was a poignant question. You knew the answer the moment you left him four years ago. Without Jinyoung, a piece of you was missing.

Jinyoung softened, only a little. His hands slipped from your arms, moving to cradle your face as he stared into your eyes with longing and devotion. “I don’t care if this way of life gets us killed in the end. At least, we will have been together. You would rather be away from me and safe than with me and in danger? That doesn’t make any sense. Your place in this life is with me!”

“I know,” you sighed.

“Then, stop all this bullshit about running away,” he growled. “I know you’re scared. I’m scared shitless, too. But I know what I’m doing now. I take care of you and you take care of me. That’s it. That’s the bottom line. Nothing else matters.”

You had no argument and even if you did, you wouldn’t use it. All you knew was that you wanted to be with him. You never wanted to be parted from him again for an instant. He was where you belonged and you finally came to accept it.

But you couldn’t justify his way of life and you snarled under your breath, “You know why I hate the gangs. Why I hate everything about what you do.”

Jinyoung nodded and spoke diplomatically, “I know every reason why. I hate them for all the same reasons. But I learned a long time ago, if you can’t beat them, own them.”

You sighed and peered up at him with bloodshot eyes. The file in your purse felt suddenly heavier. “How many people have you killed?”

Jinyoung blinked, surprised by your question. But he answered without hesitation, “None.”

You tilted your head. “You have other people do it for you, don’t you?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lied, and not very well. In fact, Jinyoung didn’t even try to change his tone. He knew you would see right through him this time.

“Don’t lie to me,” you pressed; unsure what answer you wanted out of him and knowing damn well nothing he gave you would suffice.

Jinyoung leaned in, slipping his fingers into your hair, and whispered, “I have never taken someone’s life with my own hands.”

That was enough for now. You just wanted to be in his arms. “Take me back to your place,” you ordered stubbornly. “I’m not sleeping alone tonight.”

Jinyoung studied your face and ultimately nodded. His heart was racing. He recognized your fight or flight response - you were ready to bolt. The memory of him chasing that truck down the drive flooded into his mind. You never looked back as he screamed your name, begging you not to leave him.

The car was eerily quiet as Yugyeom drove. You and Jinyoung sat together in the backseat, but there may as well have been a wall erected between your bodies. Jinyoung turned to you only once, seeing your eyes fixated on the window as buildings blurred by.

Jinyoung knew in that moment he had lost. He would wake in the morning and find you gone.

You felt a storm raging inside you; a constant conflict and collision of emotions. The hardest thing you had ever done in your life was leave Jinyoung and for what? He still became what you feared, if not worse. You looked back in regret, wishing you had stayed with him.

Jinyoung called your name.

You turned reluctantly toward him, but he was looking pensively at his hands.

“It was never your job to save me,” Jinyoung said gently.

“Of course it was,” you replied, a little too sharp.

Jinyoung shook his head. “You made the right choice, baby. Now it’s my turn.”

You rolled your eyes and angled back to the window before tears could stream down your face.

If the car was quiet and tense, the penthouse was much worse. Jinyoung had your study materials brought from your house and then ordered food, not that you had much appetite. Then, he locked himself in his bedroom and didn’t come out again.

You studied as best you could, occasionally stealing glances of his door. Yugyeom did his best to alleviate some of the stress, but his humor could only go so far. You spent the afternoon on the verge of tears as you poured over textbooks. In the evening, you indulged yourself with reruns on the television.

By the time night fell, the bedroom door opened and Jinyoung stepped out, looking quite disheveled. He had clearly slept most of the day away.

“Go home,” he told Yugyeom.

Yugyeom leapt from your side without argument. He had a penchant for rebellion and teasing, but even he knew neither of you were in a lighthearted mood at the moment.

You said your goodbyes and watched Jinyoung for an explanation.

Jinyoung cocked his head toward the bedroom and said, “Let’s go to bed.”

You pursed your lips, narrowing your eyes at him. You wanted to be angry, perpetually reminded of the day’s events and the folder in your purse that could very well hold the fate of your relationship inside. Standing up sharply, you stomped into his bedroom and Jinyoung closed the door behind you.

Jinyoung rifled for a white tee while you unbuttoned your blouse. Your eyes were on his back as you tossed the shirt away, tugging your tank over your head and unclasping your bra impatiently. Jinyoung faced you, failing to hide the way his attention fell to your naked breasts.

You pulled your skirt down until it dropped in a pile around your feet and there you stood in only your panties. Jinyoung bit his lip, pupils widening at the sight before him. You grumbled under your breath and held out your hand.

Jinyoung tossed the tee to you, which you pulled on quickly, and watched you clamber into his bed. You settled on the mattress and made yourself comfortable beneath his messy array of blankets. On your side, you closed your eyes and buried your face against the pillow.

It smelled deeply of him.

“Should I crash on the couch?” Jinyoung asked bluntly a moment later. He was trying to gauge just how angry you were at him.

Your fuse was short and you barked, “Get in here, Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung didn’t hesitate to crawl into bed behind you, tucking to your back and curling an arm around your waist. It didn’t matter how furious you felt, being in his arms provided a feeling of safety and security you could never find anywhere else. When you were with Jinyoung, you were untouchable, invulnerable.

“I will never love anyone but you,” Jinyoung whispered into your skin, his breath hot on your neck. “I need you to know that.”

“I know,” you sighed, eyes fluttering closed.

Jinyoung flexed his grip, holding you tightly. He wanted to lose himself inside you, until only the good parts of him remained. If there were any left. Jinyoung knew he was far beyond redemption.

Not long after midnight, the emptiness of the bed woke you. Adrenaline snapped you to attention, threatening to keep you awake for as long as it took to find Jinyoung and bring him back to bed.

“Jinyoung?” you called out, striding to the bedroom door and expecting to see him sulking on the couch.

But then you heard a noise in the bathroom and stopped, approaching the ensuite and opening the door.

There, you found Jinyoung on the tiled floor, sitting across from the toilet as he proceeded to cry his eyes out. You took one look at him and collapsed, falling to your knees and reaching for him.

“What happened?” you exclaimed, flinching when he batted your hands away.

“Nothing,” Jinyoung snapped, covering his red face as the tears streamed down his cheeks.

He looked on the outside the way you felt on the inside - like a total, hopeless wreck.

“What is it, Jinyoung?” you asked frantically, attempting to take his cheeks between your palms. “Did you have a nightmare?”

“Yeah, I did,” Jinyoung shouted, his voice reverberating off the tiled walls. “I dreamt the love of my life threatened to leave me again and I had no one to blame but myself!”

You fell back as if you had been slapped across the face. Blinking through your own tears, you studied Jinyoung and how devastated he looked. The facade he paraded himself behind had shattered into pieces and you were determined to sift through the ruins.

“I won’t leave you, Jinyoung,” you whispered tenderly, cradling his face though he looked away. “You were right earlier. We can’t survive without each other. We never could.”

Jinyoung tilted his head back, resting against the wall, and merely shook from side to side as if his entire body was saying no. He blinked slowly, finally meeting your eyes, and hissed, “I don’t believe you.”

Bristling, you snapped, “Well, kiss my ass then.”

Jinyoung’s eyes widened momentarily in surprise before the slightest smile took over his lips.

Rising to your feet, you stepped over him and into the shower, turning on the water before returning to him. “Get up.”

He peered up at you and said nothing.

“I said get up,” you huffed, reaching down and grabbing him by the shirt with both hands.

Jinyoung allowed you to pull him up and drag him into the shower, but he growled your name in surprise when the cold water hit his skin. You held him tightly to you beneath the running water, both of you quickly drenched while clothed, and assumed he would try to escape.

You had no idea what you were doing. Naturally you had assumed the water would be hot, given how damned expensive his penthouse was. Perhaps you just wanted a diversion, something to alleviate the heavy emotions threatening to suffocate you both.

Jinyoung fixed his gaze to your face, looking positively annoyed, and both of you fell into laughter at the same time at how ridiculous this was. You were relieved to see him smiling, heart fluttering when he leaned his forehead against yours and let his hands rest on your waist.

Overcome with your feelings for him, you fell forward, colliding into his chest and smashing your lips on his.

Time came to a screeching halt. Jinyoung cupped your face and smiled against your mouth, pleased by the urgency of your kisses.

He indulged your tongue slipping past his teeth for a moment and then he was on you, tangling his fingers in your hair while capturing you in a kiss full of hunger. His body pushed against yours, backing you into the wall roughly. You cried out at the contact, but he silenced you with his tongue.

“Fuck, why am I still so in love with you?” Jinyoung groaned.

“I love you,” was all you could say, tears stinging your eyes.

Jinyoung leveraged you against the tiled wall, slipping his hips between your legs. His next kiss was gentle, his eyes open to see the heat on your face.

Water mingled from the shower into your mouths, but all you could taste was him. Every slow, calculated tease of his tongue had you reeling. Your heart was beating at a steady but accelerated thrum, anticipating what would follow these passionate kisses.

“Jinyoung,” you finally whimpered, running out of patience.

“Shh,” he quieted you softly, kissing the corner of your mouth. “Just you and me, baby. Always.”

You hummed when his lips drifted to your neck, sucking at the base of your shoulder. You gasped in a breath, slipping your arms beneath his to sink your fingers into his shoulders. He was going to unravel you, you could feel it.

“Don’t stop,” you told him breathlessly, letting your head fall back against the tile and hooking a leg over his hip.

Jinyoung marred your beautiful neck, sucking and biting. Without a word, he slipped his hands beneath your thighs and hoisted you up, carrying you into the bedroom. You panted softly against his ear, heart racing with desire and expectation. You thought at any moment your chest would explode.

Jinyoung set you down on the bed beneath him, hovering over you and returning his kisses to your neck. Every smack of his lips was wet on your damp skin, droplets of water still streaming down your bodies from the impromptu shower. Jinyoung pried your hands from around him and stood upright, dragging your hips forward to the edge of the bed.

You exhaled nervously, slipping a hand into your hair. Your face was hot. Your pulse raced. With his simplest touches you were ready to shatter into a million pieces in his hands.

Jinyoung grasped the hem of your shirt and pushed it upward until you sat up and made it easier for the garment to slip over your head. He pressed another kiss to your lips, trying to calm your racing heart.

You watched with bated breath as he slipped his fingers in the band of your panties and brought them slowly down your legs. You couldn’t help but squirm beneath his heated gaze.

Jinyoung roamed his palms down your soft thighs, kissing and tonguing his way down the inside of your thigh before giving a swift bite. You squeaked slightly at the sharp pinch of his teeth, but your core clenched with delight, betraying you entirely.

He traveled up your body again, cupping your face and kissing you hard. You held him desperately and moaned into his mouth, grabbing his shirt and yanking it off of him. Jinyoung parted from your lips with a chuckle and stood again, gazing down at you naked and bare for him.

You watched him begin pushing down his pants, meeting your eyes and whispering, “I’ll go slow, baby.”

All you could do was nod and swallow the lump in your throat. You dared not say anything. Part of you was convinced that at any moment he would leave you wanting as he had done so many times before. Your mouth watered when he discarded his pants and his hard cock came into view.

Jinyoung finally kneeled on the bed, grasping the insides of your knees and lifting your legs how he saw fit, spreading you apart. You lay there like you forgot how to function. You were entirely at the mercy of the overwhelming need for him inside you.

You gripped handfuls of the sheets in your fists, losing your mind with restraint. Jinyoung guided himself to your entrance, pushing the head inside and watching you tense beneath him.

Jinyoung smirked at your sensitivity and grasped his cock, slipping his shaft between your folds and coating himself with your wetness. He watched your reaction as he teased your bundle of nerves with the tip of his length.

“Jinyoung, inside,” you keened, your body taut with desire. If he only knew how badly you throbbed and ached for him.

Jinyoung propped over you, chest-to-chest, and kissed your nerves - and impatience - away. He teased his tongue in your mouth and palmed over your breast, rubbing his cock between your slit.

Then, you felt his hips shift and he penetrated you slowly, filling you at an agonizing pace. You had no choice but to feel every inch of him bottoming out. You pressed your eyes closed and moaned for all to hear, legs bending beside his hips.

Jinyoung let out a groan, sheathing himself inside your warm cunt. His lips parted with a shaky breath.

He was so big. You couldn’t fathom how he fit so perfectly, so tight without ripping you open. That first thrust was always the best, making your body shudder with pleasure as you stretched to accept him.

Jinyoung was not faring any better than you. His lips were back on yours, but he breathed heavily. You were a vice on his cock, kneading and pulsing around him with need.

You gave him a nod that you were ready and Jinyoung lifted, propping himself on his fists and drawing back his pelvis to thrust into you. You bit your lip and let your hands lay at opposite sides of your head. You stared up at him in reverence, whimpering after another hard smack of his hips.

Jinyoung glanced down, growling at the sight of your pussy stuffed full of his thick cock. He fucked you at a steady pace, pushing himself in and dragging back out.

It felt so good, even better than you knew it would. Your soft whimpers and moans filled the room, music to Jinyoung’s ears.

He only touched where your bodies connected and the sight was erotic. You bent your knees and angled your hips to accept him deeper, sighing loudly in ecstasy. Jinyoung watched your breasts bounce each time his cock drove inside your tight pussy.

You wanted to smile. Jinyoung was making love to you.

He had a penchant for being rough, dominant, but there were times he could be gentle. Jinyoung loved taking pleasure from your body and fucking you to orgasm, but for now he took his time, wanting to savor the feeling of finally being one with you again.

“Deeper,” you coaxed, voice raspy. “Harder.”

Jinyoung finally tore his gaze away from his cock disappearing inside your cunt to look at the hooded lust on your face. He brought a hand to your throat and gripped snugly, not enough to put pressure, but certainly enough to snare your attention.

“Take what I give you,” he growled, stealing a kiss none too gently.

You held his wrist, walls tightening at his total dominance over your body, and nodded your obedience.

Jinyoung was about to lose his mind. He could hear the wet suck of your pussy each time he pushed his cock inside. He knew he couldn’t last much longer. The harder he went, the faster he would finish.

The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping against skin. Given the weeks of tension and the years of distance, you knew this would be fast. You knew he would make short work of you.

Tears slipped from your eyes. From pleasure. From emotion. You cried for the years wasted without him and for how complete you finally felt now that he was buried inside you.

“Shh, it’s okay,” Jinyoung crooned, reaching up to wipe a tear with his thumb.

You clenched your fists in the sheets beside your head. “I missed you,” was all you could choke out.

“I know, baby,” he said, running his fingers over your nipple before giving your bouncing breast a hard squeeze. “You feel so good. So warm and so tight.”

You moaned. He never slowed his pace, never fell out of rhythm for even a moment. Every inch of his thick cock kept pumping deeper and deeper inside you. You didn’t want it to end. He truly owned you mind, body and soul.

Jinyoung lilted his head. “You gonna be a good girl and come for me?”

“Mm,” you hummed. By his tone, it was not a request.

Jinyoung braced a hand on your hip, pinning you to endure his quickening pace. You shuddered beneath him, throwing your head back as the mattress began to creak from his roughness. He pounded into you, hitting that sweet spot and driving you insane.

“Jinyou…,” was all you could manage.

Jinyoung leveraged both hands on your thighs, throttling into you harder and harder, fucking you good until stars burst behind your eyes. He glanced down to see where your bodies met, where his cock disappeared inside your swollen pussy.

“Come for me,” he said darkly.

You cried out for mercy, body jolting from the intensity of his thrusts. Another hard smack of his hips and you were over the edge, back arching on the bed as your mouth opened in a silent scream.

Jinyoung pinned your arms, wary of your fingernails, and watched your satisfaction with a smirk. Your cunt clamped down on him with a vengeance, making his movements stutter.

The moment you regained some of your senses, you pushed his chest, wrestling him off of you and shoving him to his back. Jinyoung watched you in confusion before grinning with pride, grunting when you straddled him and took his painfully hard cock back inside you.

You watched his mouth gape open, the smallest of moans lingering in his throat. You anchored your hands on his firm chest and bounced your hips up and down.

“F-fuck,” Jinyoung stammered, surprised at how eagerly you rode him, how tightly your innermost walls gripped every inch of his length.

You flipped your hair behind your shoulders and ground yourself down on his cock, wanting him to climax harder than he ever had before. The lines of Jinyoung’s face were tense and furrowed. He was holding back with every shred of strength he had. His chest heaved for breath and his body bobbed on the mattress with how rough you fucked him.

Suddenly, Jinyoung sat up with you in his lap, grasping your waist. “Stay still,” Jinyoung choked against your neck.

“But…,” you started confusedly.

“I don’t want to come yet.”

You giggled and sighed, “I won’t hold it against you.”

Jinyoung released a nervous chuckle and the sound made you shiver. By the weakness in his voice, you knew he really was on the brink of blowing his load.

Grinning, you kept riding him, grappling with his hands as he tried to get ahold of you. You arched your hips, pumping your velvet walls on his cock.

“Say you love it,” you whispered darkly, yanking at his hair until his attention was on your face.

He didn’t hesitate to pant against your lips, “I fucking love it.”

“Come deep, baby,” you spoke even softer.

The familiar swell and throb of him almost made you climax again. With a twitch of his cock, Jinyoung lost himself to pleasure and began to fill you.

“Fuck,” Jinyoung cried out, moaning with every burst of cum that painted your insides.

You held him tighter, shivering at the rapid hot and cold of his breaths on your neck. He overlapped his arms around you, squeezing with all of his might while gritting his teeth.

Jinyoung gave a final groan, utterly spent, laying you on your back and pressing you into the mattress with the weight of his body.

You roamed your hands across his sweaty skin; anywhere and everywhere you could touch. He was scalding against the pads of your fingers, like a raging fire burned inside of him.

Jinyoung stayed sheathed inside and pinned you between his muscly arms, gracing tired, wet kisses to your lips. “Are you okay?” he asked tenderly.

You offered him a nod, staring into the glistening black of his eyes. He looked so fucked out, you wanted to grin with a mix of arrogance and satisfaction.

“Say something,” he rasped, searching your face for an answer.

You raked your nails down his back, stopping only when your hands landed on his ass. “Catch your breath,” you warned playfully.

Jinyoung’s eyes flickered with surprise and arousal. Then, he smirked.

You took his lip between your teeth and tugged, and your voice was husky when you purred, “The night’s just getting started...”

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a/n : this story was previously Lacuna on my old blog, minheoney. I’m really excited to finally finish it! This fic was my baby for so long and I’m ridiculously happy to give it a new home :)

Hey there, beautiful! If you enjoyed this, please leave a like or reblog or follow me! Or maybe buy me a coffee so I can keep writing? Or check out my masterlist here for more stories! Thanks for reading :) - Katya

This work is fictional and for entertainment purposes only, but is licensed and protected under a creative commons attribution-noncommercial-noderivatives 4.0 international license. Any instances of plagiarism will be dealt with accordingly. Do not re-post or translate without my permission.

#got7 fanfiction #got7 #park jinyoung #got7 smut #jinyoung smut #park jinyoung smut #got7 fanfic #jinyoung fanfic #jinyoung fanfiction #got7 scenario #got7 imagine #got7 reaction #got7 au

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thebibliomancer · 4 years ago

Text

Essential Avengers: Marvel Super Heroes Secret Wars #7-9

November, 1984

BERSERKER!

The death of an Avenger! The X-Men’s greatest battle! And, introducing the all-new SPIDER-WOMAN!

The cover sure isn’t burying the lede. This comic sure does introduce an All-New (presumably All-Different) Spider-Woman! Jessica Drew, move over! For now. You’ll be the Spider-Woman that endures in the long run.

Last times on Secret Wars: Some amazingly powerful being from Beyond the universe called the Beyonder kidnaps a bunch of heroes, villains, shades thereof, and chunks of random planets to put on a big toy commercial where action figures can bonk off each other.

The X-Men ditched the other heroes to do their own thing, as they’re wont to do. The villains storm the hero base and drop a mountain on them. The heroes take refuge at a small village where Johnny Storm finds a new girlfriend but there’s also a Galactus.

Galactus starts preparing a device to eat Battleworld, which would let him win the toy commercial in one fell swoop.

Oh, and Wasp was kidnapped by Magneto, escaped, crashed her escape ship, found the Lizard, and then got lasered to death by the Wrecking Crew. It was a Bad Time and I am sad, even though we know Wasp will be okay by the time they get back from Battleworld.

This time: Further not burying the lede.

The cover promised a new Spider-Woman and dammit, here’s one right away, first page. Truth in advertising!

Spider-Woman herself wastes no time introducing herself to everyone, that she comes from a chunk of Denver that got raptured by the Beyonder (still want that miniseries), that she came to help when she saw evidence of super fighting, and that she can pick up and throw large rocks so clearly she’d be able to help.

Captain America is hesitant about all this and Spider-Woman assumes that he thinks she’s a spy but as Captain America points out, why would Doom need to mess around with spies when he’s got so much power at his disposal.

Spider-Man is also hesitant at this new character. For different reasons.

Spider-Man: “She tossed that boulder as easily as I could have... at least! I wonder if she sticks to walls, too! And I wonder if I can sue her for infringing on my shticks! I should have gotten a patent or trademark or something...”

Cap tries to settle on the argument that a Secret War is too dangerous but Spider-Woman has the exceptional point “I suspect that it’s no less dangerous for the spectators, Captain America -- I might as well pitch in!”

And then the obvious toy pitch vehicle that the Wrecking Crew was driving in the swamp yesterday drives through the village blowing shit up, restarting the fires that the heroes just put out, and most insultingly of all, throwing Wasp van Dyne’s dead deceased corpse out the hatch before driving off.

Those dicks.

The heroes rush to Wasp and take her to Zsaji. That cool lady tries to heal Wasp but Jan has no pulse and isn’t breathing and might be beyond Cura. This may take Phoenix Down.

But since she went and got herself disintegrated on the Moon, Wasp is clearly dead forever.

-Looks over at Avengers #243- Hush, you!

The assembled heroes want to rush Doombase and kick the shit out of the villains and specifically the Wrecking Crew but Captain America tells them no.

Captain America: “Now, listen to me -- ! While we’re off getting even, what if Galactus starts to use that world-eating machine he’s building up on that mountain? Then every living thing on this world -- including these innocent villagers and all those people from that suburb of Denver will die! We’ve got to stay right here, ready to attack him! We may have only seconds to react when it begins!”

She-Hulk storms off while the other heroes debate the Galactus situation.

I’m sure this is fine.

Meanwhile, on the more volcano-y side of the planet, Xavier orders Cyclops, Rogue, and Wolverine to pursue Doom’s Four villains Molecule Man, Titania, Absorbing Man, and Doctor Octopus to try to capture them before they can return to Doom.

Back over at Doombase, Titania sees that her “little Owie” has been badly hurt and begs Enchantress to help.

Volcana: “Enchantress! You’re a sorceress! You could use your magic to transport me to my Owen!”

Enchantress -busy getting drunk-: “Yes... but why would I, mortal?”

Volcana: “Well... because... because I need you to! I can’t fly a ship! I -- I don’t even have a driver’s license for a car! Ultron won’t help me -- ! He only takes orders from Doom!”

Enchantress: “It takes much energy to transport a body as bloated as yours! I cannot be bothered!”

Wow! You’re a dick!

Volcana catches a lot of fat jokes and she’s not depicted as looking any different from Standard Comic Book Body Type. But also, don’t fatshame at all, Enchantress.

Anyway, Volcana promises anything to Enchantress if she helps.

Enchantress: “Rash words, mortal wench... and later, you shall deeply regret them!”

Its very handy for the villains that Volcana just showed up because their airship almost immediately gets show down by the X-Men. So even with Molecule Man out of commission, their numbers are back to Doom’s Four. And Volcana calls dibs on beating up Wolverine.

The X-Men have numbers but they’re not doing super well. Professor X is on the scene trying to be the field leader but the chaos of the battle and the villains’ minds being blocked by Enchantress’ magic makes it hard for him to coordinate.

Magneto even gets smack-talked by Absorbing Man.

Absorbing Man: “Tell me, Magneto. What’s scum like you doin’ hangin’ around with the X-Men? Sure, they’re outlaws -- but I thought you was big time! You got mass murder raps, manslaughter, terrorism, what else? Probably everything! You’re one of us! On second thought, a creampuff like you belongs with them losers!”

I can’t believe Magneto has to take that from a man who constantly carries a large metal orb with him everywhere.

Wolverine manages to slice off Absorbing Man’s arm, although the guy was made of rock at the time so it wasn’t as gory as it could have been.

Absorbing Man just. Picks up his arm and runs off to hit someone with it.

Amazing.

The villains manage to pin down the heroes with some Volcana blast and then steal one of the X-Men’s ships and get away.

Professor X declares that this is Totally a victory.

Xavier: “We lost nothing, save one of our ships -- which matters little -- and we gained much! We coalesced as a fighting unit passing our greatest test to date and I think we proved ourselves -- beyond a doubt!”

Like, you had a scuffle with some villains that ended inconclusively even though you had the advantage of a sneak attack, the villains stole one of your ships, and there was no major damage to either side.

It was largely pointless. But I guess Xavier has a vested interest in declaring it a huge success since it was his inaugural go at being field commander.

Meanwhile, skulking around Galactus’ ship, DOOM complains about doing that.

Doom: “Doctor Doom - a burglar! Rummaging about in another being’s home, seeking to steal some priceless thing! Bah! What choice do I have? I need a key, a way -- ! My armor’s sensors have led me to prize after prize -- hundreds, thousands of devices which, in the hands of a man as brilliant as myself could provide power to conquer entire galaxies -- ! Yet, all of them combined are not enough to defeat Galactus -- let alone the Beyonder! There must be a way! Doom must be supreme!”

Unfortunately for Doom, despite the volcano distraction making Galactus sigh and have to spend time fixing the planet so he can eat it, he senses something amiss in his house and mentally yeets Doom back to Battleworld.

The villains return back to Doombase but Doctor Octopus can’t help Molecule Man because dammit he’s a nuclear physicist, not a medical doctor! Ultron tells Volcana that there are medical devices that could fix Molecule Man up nicely but since he doesn’t have any relevant orders from Doom, he’s just going to stand here and look pretty. And Enchantress says she could heal him with a wave of her hand but refuses to because Volcana already gave her a blank check.

Absorbing Man returns and reattaches his arm by basically hoping like hell it’ll just be better if he holds it in place when he reverts to skin flesh.

And the Wrecking Crew have to throw the Lizard into a cell because he hasn’t stopped trying to eat their faces for killing Wasp, his new best friend.

The Wrecking Crew doesn’t get a chance to enjoy being back at base because She-Hulk has broken in and beats the crap out of them off-screen.

Titania comes in and starts fighting She-Hulk STARTING AN ENDURING RIVALRY.

Its fun how much got its start in Secret Wars.

The two fight more or less evenly from what I can tell but uh Doctor Octopus joins in as does the Absorbing Man and the Wrecking Crew once they catch their breath.

And She-Hulk is strong but this is a stomp.

In another part of Doombase where the Enchantress is sitting in “sullen reverie” refusing to get involved in the fight she can here, instead thinking about how much she’s going to seduce the crap out of Thor.

Doom arrives at Himbase after being expelled from Galactus’ ship and refuses to explain anything to Enchantress. He just stumbles over to his sweet bed and collapses in it.

Doom: “It is over... Finished...”

Back over at Zsaji’s Village, the heroes realize that She-Hulk took off. Hawkeye figures that she went after the villains and asks to go after her.

Hawkeye: “She can’t take ‘em alone, Cap! She needs us!”

Huh! When the chips are down even though they fought, Clint and Jen sure are coworkers.

Hulk also asks to go after her since she’s his cousin. The acknowledgement of which is what I’ve been wanting all along.

But Cap tells them no.

Hulk: “I don’t suppose you’d consider putting it to a vote?”

Trying to appeal to his love of democracy. How wily.

Captain America: “My heart would vote ‘yes’ in a minute... Too many innocent lives are at stake here, though! Many more than the few people on this planet -- we’ve got a universe depending on what we do here! We can’t allow ourselves the luxury of making decisions with our hearts!”

But Cap receives a psychic skype from Professor X who tells him that the X-Men can take Galactus watching duty for a bit so run along and save your teammate, you scamp.

Cap accepts.

Its fun how the tide of battle has shifted back and forth.

Now the heroes are largely fresh, having been sitting on their ass staring at Galactus, and the villains are bloodied from several fights with the X-Men and She-Hulk. Plus, their big gun Molecule Man got Wolverine’d.

But next issue is something so big that it overshadows basically everything else in Secret Wars.

December, 1984

INVASION!

YEAH ITS VENOM

OR WILL BE

Also, a bunch of other stuff happens. The cover is kind of funny for maybe unintentionally presaging what would happen where the black costume being more remembered than everything else in Secret Wars in general but definitely this issue specifically.

There’s actually a lot of really cool stuff happening in this issue.

Cap(tain America)’s group of heroes storms Doom’s Doombase, lucking out that Doom is too stunned by being expelled from Galactus’ ship to attempt any kind of defense and nobody else on his team has the braincells to be watching out for an attack.

Enchantress hears the heroes breaking in but she’s well and truly drunk by this point.

And bemoans her secret god meeting with Thor. That she was going to try to cast a spell on him to bend him to her will but is aware that she might have flipped good for him instead. And even now wonders what she’ll do if Thor shows up in front of her.

The villains still beating She-Hulk to her death hear the heroes breaking into the base and run off to ambush them, Doc Ock slamming She-Hulk against some wreckage as a coup de grace.

Wrecker gets the jump on Iron Man and Doc Ock dumps a convenient tank of water on Human Torch but Spider-Man jumps in and drops Bulldozer with one punch before he can pulp an extinguished Johnny.

The Thing tries fighting Absorbing Man but wouldn’t you know it, the Thing’s thingness fades at the worst time again, leaving him powerless.

Spider-Woman jumps in to save him.

She didn’t get to really do much in her actual introductory issue, despite being on the cover and splash. She just kinda shows up and goes ‘i can definitely help!’

She makes a much better second impression this time. Almost like she’s aware that she needs to sell herself.

Spider-Woman: “A clean knockout -- ! Of the awesome Absorbing Man -- ! And it’s only the fifth time I’ve ever been in a fight! The new Spider-Woman wins again!”

Marvel really wants you to like this non-Jessica Drew.

Piledriver charges Hawkeye, mocking him for missing with his arrows and gloating that arrows are useless to a guy who’s immune to bullets.

Piledriver: “Hawkeye the Archer! Hah! Boy you gonna need Hawkeye the M.A.S.H. doctor in a minute -- ‘cause I reckon this good ol’ boy is gonna ‘mash’ you!”

Good one, Piledriver. Good banter.

Hawkeye: “Those shots were just warnings, dummy! I don’t want to have to hit you! From my bow, at this range, an arrow hits a lot harder than any bullet! Back off... please...”

We did learn in the Hawkeye mini that Hawkeye’s bow has a ridiculous draw strength.

This is a pretty good Hawkeye moment people don’t really point to a lot.

Also, I do love when an invincible or durable person who isn’t used to getting hurt gets hurt once and goes ‘NOPE! I DO NOT CARE FOR THIS!’

Hulk busts into Enchantress’ drinking room and unfortunately falls for her “I am but a helpless female!” routine. She gets all up in his business, magically puts him to sleep, and then pours herself another drink.

It could have been a good day for Enchantress if Captain America hadn’t come in right after.

Captain America: “What have you done to the Hulk?”

Enchantress: “For the moment, he is merely asleep. Doubtless dreaming dreams of me! But, alas, he can never truly have me, for I am yours, my handsome captain! Am I not beautiful? Come to me...”

Points for audacity but Captain America is a champion of not thinking with his dick. Blah blah willpower is legendary, socked Prometheus in the noggin. You get it.

Anyway, he socks Enchantress in the noggin with his shield and knocks her out.

Hawkeye and unthinged Ben try to find the rest of the heroes but run into Klaw and Lizard, who Klaw let out of his cell because he didn’t like to see anyone imprisoned but also because he liked the way Lizard talks. What an audiophile.

Ben Grimm: “Uh... any ideas, Hawk?”

Hawkeye: “Well... I guess we’ll have to outwit ‘em!”

Ben Grimm: “Us?!”

Hah.

Thor, Iron Man, Spider-Woman, and Mr Fantastic find Volcana and Molecule Man.

Iron Man makes the dubious tactical decision to charge right into Volcana’s plasma burst and burns out his armor.

Mr Fantastic pulls him out of the way and the other heroes try to get through Molecule Man’s fused air molecules invisible shield. They fail until Captain Marvel just lightbeams right through it. Because its transparent.

Love it. Love that her power works like that. Because it should.

Captain Marvel grabbing Molecule Man pulls open his Wolverine wounds and he passes out. Volcana surrenders to spare her boyfriend more pain.

Not that Monica intended that or knew he was wounded. This is still early Monica before Nextwave hardened her outlook. This is the Monica who was horrified when Blackout and Moonstone got pulled through a singularity.

Titania tried to drop a forty-ton beam on the heroes’ heads but is interrupted by Spider-Man thanks to his spectacular spider-sense.

She out-muscles him by a lot but she can’t actually lay a hit on him because he’s got superior spider agility. Maybe if she had more experience it’d be different but she’s basically in the angry flailing stage of her skill tree so far.

Spidey brags “With a little room to operate, no one can lay a glove on me -- not the X-Men, not the Absorbing Man, and not you!”

Titania: “When I get you I’ll -- AGGH!”

Spider-Man: “All you’re going to get is frustrated... and, eventually, trashed!”

Titania: “No! It’s not fair! *UHH!*”

Spider-Man: “But, if we were fighting in a broom closet, that’d be fair, right?”

Titania: “Stop it! Stop it! Stop -- !”

Spider-Man: “You ought to be happy, cuddles! You aspired to be a bully, and, man, you’re a classic! You talk tough and nasty when you’ve got the upper hand -- but when you’re losing -- well, that’s when the whining little wimp-ette inside comes spilling out!”

And then he defenestrates her without a window.

Fun fact: she apparently developed a Spider-Man phobia from this.

Understandably.

Y’know, in terms of embarrassing and traumatizing people, Spider-Man is having a good run in this story.

Captain American and Human Torch find a passed out Piledriver who fainted from blood loss after staggering away. And they find Ultron, standing between them and Doom.

Ultron is an Avengers-tier stomper who takes down entire teams and there’s just two heroes who coincidentally were both portrayed by Chris Evans. And the Human Torch’s fire is ineffective as Ultron gloats.

Ultron: “The core of the hottest star could not melt my adamantium body, human! Nothing can harm me! I am invincible! I am mechanically precise and computer-swift! I am perfect!”

When Ultron grapples Human Torch and starts throttling him, Cap tells him to use his nova-flame. Then hides behind his shield.

The flame melts a good portion of the room and the air being superheated somehow doesn’t make Cap crispy. And when the nova flare of the nova flame fades, Ultron’s chassis is still intact.

But the heat damaged something inside and Ultron is down. Johnny is also down, spent from the nova.

I like that the Fantastic Four would have their own way to deal with Ultron should that ever come up. Has it? You’d think it would.

Captain America proceeds to Doom alone but Doom is non-responsive from being Galactus’d.

And Reed, Spider-Man, and Hulk finds Hawkeye and Ben Grimm, where they have outwitted Klaw and Lizard.

Lizard: “Disssturb our gamess-s and the Lizard will dessstroy you! Once we finissh, we will do as you s-ssay!”

Well, whatever works!

With the fighting done, Captain Marvel finds She-Hulk, barely alive. The heroes jam her into a healing tube saving her in the nick of time.

The heroes also jam the villains into healing tubes because they’re heroes and are nice like that.

Considering the heroes were fighting to take prisoners and the villains very much weren’t, it’s lucky that the heroes won the majority of conflicts and got away from the one they didn’t.

The villains that didn’t need bacta treatments - or whatever is in those tubes - got shoved into cells. Also, Doom, because he might need the healing juice but it would require peeling him out of his armor and its probably booby-trapped.

Hawkeye and Captain Marvel return to the village to bring Wasp’s body to DoomHerobase for a funeral but they’re in for a surprise.

It turns out that Zsaji WAS able to heal Wasp who wasn’t dead just in a laser-induced death-like stasis. AS YA DO. It nearly killed Zsaji to bring Wasp back from such grievous injuries.

Colossus learns this by getting into her exposition drugs while she’s passed out and mind-melding with her.

Of course, it just makes the big lug fall deeper in love with her.

The important takeaway is that Wasp is alive. Just like we knew that she would be. The universe has been set right.

Over at Herobase, Reed Richards fixes the Iron Man armor after Rhodey got it a little melted.

Iron Man, James Rhodes: “I’m curious... were you surprised there was a black man under the metal?”

Reed Richards: “Hmm... No, I never gave it a thought! I knew there was a man under there...”

Its a nice exchange.

Its kinda ruined retroactively by Illuminati revealing that Reed knew Tony was Iron Man and would have known about Tony having to step down due to his alcoholism and likely knew about Rhodey taking over.

Dammit, Illuminati!

Elsewhere in the base, Spider-Man spots Hulk and Thor coming out of a room with Thor sporting a brand new cape and helmet. They tell Spidey that there’s a device in there that will make any clothes you want.

Except Spider-Man doesn’t bother asking which device and they don’t bother specifying so Spidey just picks the likeliest one and gets a black glob.

An important black glob.

To eventually be revealed to be an alien goo symbiote and later eventually tied to a dark god that predates the universe.

But for right now, its a way to incorporate a new costume design that a fan submitted. And Spider-Man handwaves it not looking like his old costume by assuming he was thinking of the new Spider-Woman.

So that’s how it is, Pete? She ‘ripped’ you off so you’re gonna rip her off?

You know whats really funny?

A month before this came out, in Spider-Man’s own book, he had learned that the costume was a living symbiote and had gotten rid of it.

It be like that with Secret Wars but its still funny that we’re finally seeing him get the costume just as he’s getting rid of it.

Anyway, Spider-Man’s new costume buzz is interrupted by the planet shaking and someone yelling in his brain.

Professor X: “CAPTAIN AMERICA! COME AT ONCE! IT HAS BEGUN! GALACTUS IS DEVOURING THE PLANET!”

It’s nice that the crises are waiting their turn.

January, 1985

ASSAULT ON GALACTUS!

The issue titles for this story are all so excited.

The X-Men were left on Galactus watching duty so when the big lug starts trying to eat the planet, the X-Men charge in to attack him.

Hm.

Y’know, I sometimes wonder what iconic storylines would have been like if a different set of characters handled it. This used to be great What If fodder. I know there was one where the Avengers tackled Galactus’ first appearance. And because it was the tone of What If at the time to viciously shoot down any divergence of the 616 timeline, THINGS WENT HORRIBLY WRONG.

Think of it like the Turn Left episode of Doctor Who.

POINT BEING, I wonder how the X-Men would have handled Galactus’ first appearance. Of course, this would be the O5 roster so they’d have their work cut out for them.

Heck, even with Storm on the team, the X-Men are over their heads with Galactus.

She hits him with two massive lightning bolts and Galactus keeps working like he didn’t even notice.

The X-Men seem to realize how out of their depth they are (especially sans Phoenixes, their usual Galactus-fighting go-to) but at Professor Xavier’s command they charge in anyway.

Galactus sends out a defensive drone so he can continue not paying the X-Men any mind and the mutants find themselves completely bogged down in fighting the drone while Galactus does his thing.

And from Zsaji’s sweet village, Captain Marvel, Wasp, and Hawkeye see a massive explosion where the X-Men were.

I guess they’re totally dead forever.

Wasp: “Should we head up there now?”

Hawkeye: “No! We’d better wait for Cap... and strike as a unit!”

Hah.

Its the expression, really. Like Hawkeye thinking to himself ‘oh I want no part of that.’

The non-X-Men assemble at Herobase to rush to the fight.

Mr. Fantastic: “Hurry! No telling how long the X-Men can hold out!”

Spider-Man: “Yeah! Where’s the rest of the alphabet when you need it?”

HAH!

Oh, Spider-Man, you are a delight.

In the airship over, Thor notices that Hulk looks glum and tries to cheer him up.

Thor: “If ‘tis that you do not fit in these chairs that depresses you, count yourself fortunate! They were made, I think, for insect men... or by trolls, for torture! If ‘tis the impending battle troubling thee -- just think! What greater chance for glory has man or god e’er known? More even than Ragnarok, this is the battle I was born millennia ago to fight! You, too, are a warrior born, Hulk! A taste of battle and the berserker battle-lust shall rise in thy soul!”

Hulk: “I doubt it! I lost that when I gained the intelligence of my human side -- Bruce Banner! And now I’m slowly losing that, too! I’m not savage enough... or smart enough to be a relevant factor!”

Well, You Tried, Thor.

Johnny Torch is trying to cheer up Ben Grimm who is as grim as his name over his powers popping in and out as they please.

And then the rocks pop back on just as Ben is dramatically bemoaning that he can’t control them.

The Thing: “Whoopie! I’m the Thing again! I’m so happy, I even like you!”

Human Torch: “Yeow! You lummox! Put me down! Jeez, I can see the headlines -- ‘affectionate hug slays Human Torch en route to battle -- universe destroyed as a result’!’“

This book has some decent lines.

Iron Man ogles Spider-Woman under the pretense of not trusting her but then goes a little ‘I’ll show them all!’

Iron Man: “A lot of guys have worked with Iron Man before -- but that was when Tony Stark was in this suit! I think they’ve started to realize there’s a different guy in here, now... an’ they got their doubts! They’re keepin’ their distance -- don’t quite trust me yet! Don’t matter! As long as I got this armor, I’m one ba-ad dude -- especially since Richards souped it up! As soon as that fight starts, I’ll show ‘em -- show ‘em I’m Iron Man! The real Iron Man! James Rhodes is Iron Man -- now and forever!”

Rhodey pls.

Also meanwhile, because this is a long flight, Spider-Man starts hopping all around the interior of the airship overexcited because he’s just discovered that the totally benign goo suit he got has webshooters!

And he squirts Johnny in the face to prove it because that’s just how Spider-Man is sometimes.

Johnny complains that this webbing is even harder to burn than his old stuff which will turn itself into a bit of a plot hole down the line when its revealed that symbiotes are weak to fire.

Whoops.

Its fine though. Pre-modern Venom has always had sloppy writing around it.

He also demonstrates the goo suit’s ability to change shape.

I can’t believe that Marvel were cowards and never had Peter go around in the Summer Variant suit.

Reed lets himself go down a melancholic musing rabbit hole and starts poking holes in the story logic.

Mr. Fantastic: “At face value, the whole thing is absurd! Why would a being so far removed from us and so powerful as the Beyonder bring us across the universe for a stupid, simplistic ‘good-versus-evil’ gladiatorial contest? Is he a mad god? A cosmic idiot? And why us? Why this odd collection of beings, mostly from Earth? And why Galactus? He doesn’t fit! Human beings and even gods may be tempted, but Galactus is a force of nature -- no more capable of having enemies than a hurricane or an earthquake! Why is he here? There must be more to this... but what possible purpose could there be?”

Credit where its due, these are things I’ve been wondering!

But Reed is so busy pondering this that he runs the airship into the energy discharge from Galactus’ machine and crashes the ship on top of Colossus.

Smooth move, absent minded professor.

With only seconds before the world starts to burn, the Avengers, Fantastic Four, and assorted leap into battle against Galactus.

Iron Man manages to get past Galactus’ defense drones and punch his world eating engine, thanks to the upgrades done to the armor.

But now that they’re being successful, Reed interjects and tells them to stop winning so hard. Yes, really.

Mr. Fantastic: “Ben, we can’t go through with this! At last I see a purpose here -- a meaning to the universe for this insane conflict! WE MUST NOT STOP GALACTUS!’

Then Galactus effortlessly blasts the heroes away.

Which, if nothing else, gives Reed a chance to catch his breath to EXPOSIT MORE.

Mr. Fantastic: “For the first time this whole thing makes seom sense to me! I see a possible purpose in it! This is a chance to rid our universe of the threat of Galactus! All we have to do is let him win this contest! If the Beyonder indeed, grants hsi wish, he’ll be freed of his planet-consuming hunger at long last!”

The Thing: “And if the Beyonder reneges?”

Mr. Fantastic: “Re-energized by consuming this world, Galactuc will attack -- I know it! And force the Beyonder to pay up -- or be destroyed in the attempt. Any way you look at it... the universe wins! Countless billions who would have eventually fallen prey to Galactus -- will live in peace!”

Spider-Man: “Yeah, but why us? Why were we picked to decide the fate of the universe?”

Mr. Fantastic: “Why not us? We picked ourselves, remember? Besides... we beings of Earth seem to have a knack for being pivotal in the cosmic scheme of things.”

Reed, some offense but you’re the last person who should be speaking on this.

Galactus is only alive now because you had a hunch that he had some Big Important Role in the cosmic order and saved his life.

You may remember that because THE ENTIRETY OF SPACE PUT YOU ON TRIAL FOR IT.

Turning around on that because now you have a different hunch that everything will be a-okay if the Beyonder kills Galactus, is just such a classic Reed move.

Anyway, the discussion ends because Galactus raptures Reed and the entire mountaintop his machine was sitting on.

Since the suspects of Reed rapturing were Galactus or the Beyonder, its not very surprising that its Galactus forcibly inviting Reed up to his solar-system sized apartment.

What, you thought that the Beyonder would be more present in this story that it initiated? Fool.

Anyway, Galactus wants to have a friendly talk at Reed. Because Galactus is one of the few people that can talk down at Reed and he just has to sit tight and listen.

Meanwhile, over at the former Doombase, locked in a Doomcell, its Doom. Still in his catatonia OR IS IT?

Doom: “THE WORLD SHIP IS THE WAY! Galactus’s home itself is the way I seek! At last, I see!”

He activates the get-out-of-jail-free button hidden in his ankle which activates a point-singularity power supply that busts the door off his cell.

He ignores all of the other imprisoned villains to free Klaw.

Doom: “You, yourself, Klaw, are a ‘recording’ of sorts, due to the time you spent as a wave of vibratory energy coursing through the walls of Galactus’s homeworld! Come with me!”

Klaw: “Where to? Toodle-oo, toodle-oo!”

Doom: “To the lab! I’m going to dissect you!”

Klaw: “Oh, good!”

If it were anyone else that would read as sarcastic.

Its also revealed that Doom talks to himself because he is constantly recording.

Doom: “Every utterance of Doom must be recorded for posterity!”

How on-brand.

Meanwhile, back over at where the fight was, Cyclops OPTIC BLASTS out of the hole Magneto buried the X-Men in to save them from Galactus’ exploding drone.

Good job, Magneto.

Buuut. The fight is over so the X-Men just vaguely wander over to Zsaji’s village to catch up with Captain America’s group.

Zsaji wakes up from her Wasp-healing coma and runs over... right past Colossus to embrace Johnny. To make Colossus sad in the background.

But Johnny is too worried about Reed being raptured to make out with his new space girlfriend right now.

The heroes debate what to do.

Cap(tain America) wants to just stand ready until Galactus comes back and Cap(tain Marvel) suggests finding some spaceships at former Doombase and mounting an assault on Galactus’ imagination-ruiningly huge homeship.

The Thing offers the daring option of ‘hey Reed said not to fight Galactus and dangit what Reed says goes!’

He’s as bad as the Inhumans, I swear.

Reed reappears right about when Iron Man and the Thing are about to come to blows over the ‘do whatever Reed says’ plan.

The Thing: “Stretch! What happened?”

Mr. Fantastic: “Not much! We had tea...”

NOW I KNOW that Galactus likely has some robot servant or device that makes tea for him. But I can’t get the image out of my head of Galactus holding a tiny teapot and serving Reed tea.

How dare this comic cut away and let that happen off-panel!

Anyway, their big OFF-PANEL talk?

Mr. Fantastic: “He told me that I was a ‘force of the universe’ just as he is -- ! That I’m a ‘universal champion of life’ just as he is an instrument of death!”

Now. Nooooow. Champion slash Avatar of Life is a legitimate thing in Marvel, once filled by, uh, Captain Marvel. The Kree guy version. So the position is open.

I just find it easier to believe that Galactus was saying random nonsense to try to befuddle Reed into doing what Galactus wants rather than it being official.

The Avatar of Life page on marvel wiki doesn’t seem to credit it. It only has two versions of Adam Warlock, Drax, and Cancerverse Mar-Vell.

Anyway.

Mr. Fantastic: “I don’t what to say! I’m more convinced than ever that it’s right to let Galactus do what he must! And if I’m a ‘Champion of Life’ does it not make sense to allow Galactus to slay us so that countless billions will live? Or was he telling me that I must fight to serve even these relatively few lives here? I just don’t know...”

Yeeeeah. More convinced than ever that Galactus was filling Reed’s brain with cognitive chaff so to speak.

But Ben “Thing” Grimm is like ‘hey if Reed tells me I gotta die for the good of the universe then I’m ready to die so we’re not fighting unless Reed says so.’

Hawkeye: “This is a real crock! We’ve got to fight! Quitters! Cowards!”

I rarely say this but I think Hawkeye has a point.

Anyway, Galactus reappears the mountaintop, his machine, and himself to get back to snacking on the planet.

Far be it from me to tell Galactus how to ‘mortals are beneath my notice’ but maybe he’d get better results relocating his machine to the other side of the planet. Get some element of surprise, a head start.

No? Fine.

Captain America: “All right, listen up! I’m going to fight! The rest of you come or not as your conscience dictates!”

Wasp: “We’re with you, Cap!”

Captain America: “Good! But first... I just want to tell you, Professor Xavier, that despite our differences, you and your people did us -- and the universe, as far as I’m concerned -- a great service, earlier!”

Professor Xavier: “It was an honor!”

Captain America: “I hope you, the X-Men... and Magneto will come and fight side by side with us now! No one here will deny you’ve earned that much!”

Think about all the grief that could have been saved if people were willing to give Magneto the benefit of the doubt at the beginning of the story! Womp womp!

Meanwhile at Doombase (because the heroes are all off doing stuff and when the heroes are away Doom gets his base back), Doom observes the battle against Galactus starting AND that the Beyonder has cracked open his portal to watch the fight.

But more importantly, Doom cut Klaw into slices.

Back over at the heroes fighting Galactus, the heroes are fighting Galactus.

As in, directly. No drones.

Its a sign that they’re making some sort of progress.

He’s still batting them around like leaves in the wind.

But the Terrific Three show up to actually help.

Mr. Fantastic: “Galactus used enormous amounts of energy transporting his homeworld here -- and I’m sure he hasn’t fed for months! His power is almost depleted! We can take him!”

Captain America: “Richards, I -- I’m glad you’re here -- but what made you change your mind?”

Mr. Fantastic: “I... thought about what Galactus said -- and I’m still not certain that, in the cosmic scheme of things, what we’re doing is right -- but I realized just how badly I want to see my baby born, Cap! I want that more than anything -- ! And I’m going to fight for it!”

Aww.

He’s going to be waiting a long time for that baby though.

Not because of comic book time but because of intense drama reasons.

The heroes manage to reach the top of the mountain and start trashing Galactus’ machine despite Reed insisting that they ignore it and prevent Galactus from escaping.

And Galactus just animation-cell-slides-up ‘I must return to my homeworld’ style.

And as Reed explains how badly they done fucked up, Galactus takes a last look around his homeworld/spaceship. Because he doesn’t need his machine to eat planets. It just makes the process more efficient. So if the heroes are going to be annoying about him eating Battleworld, he’s just going to eat his own dang home!

Mr. Fantastic: “He’s devouring his own living world -- perhaps the greatest energy source in the universe! Moments after he’s finished, this godforsaken planet will be next! We won’t be able to stop him this time! Then he’ll probably consume the sun too! He’ll want every iota of energy available in case he must do battle with the Beyonder! We’re dead men!”

Wow. Is that the most kirby krackle we’ve ever seen?

But as Galactus converts his home into POWER COSMIC, Doom is ready with his own plan to steal that power, aided by a series of lenses he’s turned Klaw into.

As ya do?

You’ll have to tune in to the last quarter of Secret Wars to see if Doom succeeds in doing that thing that he always tries to do.

My thought is: maybe.

Follow @essential-avengers for the good job I’m doing with these Secret Warses. Like and reblog maybe.

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let-the-dream-begin · 4 years ago

Text

Hogmanay Hauntings: A Christmas Carol Crossover

Chapter 1 -- Past: Creideamh

Read on AO3

“No.”

It was a grunt, a growl, a snarl, perhaps all three.

“For Christ’s sake, brother, ye didna even let me finish,” Jenny huffed, putting her hands on her hips.

“I didna need ye to,” he snapped. “I’m no’ going.”

“And why no’? If no one is in danger, can ye even think of another reason to no’ go?”

“Ye canna guarantee safety, and ye ken it.”

“Jamie, it’s been four years since Culloden. We havena had any visitors in a year! The villagers said the harassment has lightened considerably,” she reasoned. “The tenants miss their Laird, Jamie.”

“I’m not their Laird.”

Jenny flinched a bit at the coldness. “Aye, I ken. But they do still see ye as such. Ye’re their hero whether ye like it or not.” She paused, moving her hands from her hips and crossing her arms over her chest. “And the tenants arena the only people that feel that way.”

“What d’ye mean?” He was still staring at the dirt between his feet, still refusing to look at her.

“The lad,” she said, her voice softening. “Your lad.”

Your adopted boy.

She had called him that.

“He’s...no,” Jamie said hoarsely. “He isna mine.”

I have no children.

“Christ, Jamie,” her voice regained the bite it had lost. “Try telling that to him.”

“What d’ye mean by such?”

She sighed with exasperation. “Ye’re no’ the only one that lost her.”

He stood up abruptly, propelled by boiling rage exploding in his blood.

“I’ll no’ be intimidated by yer pathetic excuse fer a towering bear.” Jenny rolled her eyes. “Claire was — ”

“Don’t say her name.”

“ — the only mother the lad ever knew. And ye ken it well,” she went on as if uninterrupted. “There was no need fer him to be orphaned entirely. Yet here we are.”

Jamie growled with rage, shoving over one of his piles of books, sending them flying all about. He should not have been surprised that Jenny would turn asking about Hogmanay into throwing her into his face.

“Fine,” Jenny said calmly, unaffected by his tantrum. “Suit yourself.” She hiked up her skirts and made to leave, but paused at the entrance of the cave, turning around again. “Christ, Jamie...I ken ye have sorrow. And I only wanted to bring ye a bit of happiness. I ken how much the holiday meant to ye when we were bairns. And it’s the grandest party we can afford since the rising.”

Jamie was momentarily seized by guilt, remembering the sad holiday they’d had last year. After Caitlin. Jenny had been grief stricken nearly to the point of no return, and Ian had suggested they not have a party at all. But she’d picked herself back up and thrown together whatever they could afford at the last minute. For the children, perhaps; they’d already lost enough. But for herself, as well. It had always been important to her, too, Hogmanay. And Jamie knew it.

“I just...I miss my brother. This…” She gestured to his hunched, ragged form, the cramped quarters of his cave, “isna my brother.”

“This,” Jamie bit back bitterly, “exists to keep the rest of ye safe.”

“One night, Jamie. That’s all. But if ye canna bring yerself to quit yer wallowing...suit yourself.” She turned again, and then she was gone.

He stood still for a moment, allowing his sister’s enormous presence to truly leave the cave, his chest tight, his fists clenched.

No, he would not go. Not only was it a threat to their safety, no matter how Jenny insisted that she’d insured there would be protection, but his presence was a blight. He would not bring misery to those he loved by dampening their joy on a night meant for rebirth and celebration.

He had nothing to celebrate, nothing to look forward to in the new year, or any year thereafter.

His future was gone. All that existed was his present, these dark walls, the quiet forest on days where he hunted. And pain. Such...pain.

His future...her future.

For the hundredth time in just that day, he thought of her. He thought of them. Four years...his bairn would be four years old. Running around with Jenny’s bairns, a child now, not an infant anymore. Claire would struggle to pick up the child, especially if it grew like a Fraser.

It. He’d never know what to call it.

The months he’d spent in the Bastille, not knowing the fate of his wife or child, trapped in his own mind as much as in his cell...he was living there again. Except this time, nobody would come to his rescue, nobody would enlighten him about his child, tell him it was a beautiful girl, what she looked like…

Ah, my sweet Faith.

And for the hundredth time in just that day, he thought of her, too.

Claire and the bairn were not dead, not really. But their loss had felt just as acute as that of his wee lost daughter.

I have no children.

A small scuttling sound jolted him from his reverie, and he sniffled, swiping at the tears on his cheeks.

“Uncle Jamie?”

Christ! How had the bairn…?

“Milord?”

Ah.

The smaller voice belonged to the head of strawberry blonde that bobbed into the cave, blue eyes wide.

“Are ye really no’ coming to Hogmanay, Uncle?” she said, her lips full and drawn into a sad frown.

Jamie was always sinfully grateful for the isolation of his cave. It physically pained him to look at the children. Especially wee Maggie. The red hues of her hair, always accentuated in firelight, were far too much like the copper hair he saw in his dreams, copper hair that only Claire had really seen. He couldn’t bear to look at her, at any of the lasses, and think that Faith would have played their wee games with them, and perhaps so would the new bairn, were she a lass. Were he a lad, he’d be traipsing around wee Jamie and Michael.

If he had his own bairn with him, if he had its mother with him...perhaps it would be different.

But that hair, those eyes, that sweet frown...it was too much.

“No. I’m not.”

His voice was far too short and harsh. She was only seven years old.

“But Kitty and I made ye a gift to give ye at midnight.” She twisted her apron in her hands, swaying a bit.

“Yer Ma will give it to me. Dinna come back here, it isna safe.” His eyes flicked up to Fergus, who’d been hanging back to allow this conversation to unfold. “Ye’re a fool to bring her here.”

“She will not remember,” Fergus said. “She was crying, Milord. I thought — ”

“Ye thought wrong. Quit my sight.”

The wee girl sniffled and rubbed her eyes with the back of her hand. He was wracked with guilt at the sound, at the sight. For a split second, he almost fell to his knees and pulled her into him, whispered into her hair, rocked her.

No, he’d fall apart if he did that, and he’d never be able to put himself back together. He’d never be able to let her go.

“Now, Fergus,” Jamie snarled. He couldn’t bear to listen to her anymore. He couldn’t bear to be confronted with the knowledge that he was incapable of bringing a child comfort. Because all of his children had been stolen from him.

“You are a heartless beast,” Fergus said with great disdain. “I do not want you at Hogmanay anyway.” He stepped forward and took Maggie’s hand. “Come, petit.”

And they were gone.

Aye, lad. I am a heartless beast.

His heart had been gone for four years. Never to return.

——

Jamie was in a deep, heavy sleep. Ian had come by with whisky, not to try and persuade him to come — quite the opposite in fact. He’d essentially encouraged Jamie to get piss drunk alone in the cave, and that was exactly what he’d done. His head had hit the pillow like a stone, and he’d passed out.

A gushing wind roared inside the cave, and it roused him immediately, like a bucket of icy water poured on his head. His eyes shot open just in time to see his singular candle knocked over by the gust, blowing the light out. He lay there in silence for a moment, waiting for the deafening wind to stop. When it did, he counted a few breaths, swallowing thickly.

He wasn’t sure why, but he felt a deeply ingrained sense of foreboding and dread.

He got up then to re-light the candle; though it was night, sleeping without the light of the moon had always been difficult, even after four years. A candle was a poor substitute, but it had to do.

As he fumbled around blindly, he was aware of something glowing behind him, as if someone had suddenly lit a fire. Yet the color was different, as if the fire were ignited by the moon itself. Brow furrowing, he turned around, and he staggered back at what he saw.

It was a child. A wee lass, barely even reaching the height of his waist. Barely bigger than wee Janet. But she was glowing, like her tiny slip of a nightgown was sewn from strands of moonlight. If Jamie didn’t know any better, he’d say that above her head was a flickering flame. Or maybe it was just her hair...fiery red. Like his.

And her eyes, how they glowed.

Like amber in front of a flame.

Like whisky.

“Hallo.”

She spoke, and her voice sounded like music underwater, like ringing bells in an echoing cave. Far away, yet right in his ear. He jumped at the sound, staggering back again, stumbling until he landed on his rear in his makeshift bed.

“W...what d’ye want…?” Jamie stammered, his eyes frozen and unblinking on the ethereal being. “Are ye...a spirit?”

“Aye,” she said calmly, a placid, gentle smile on her cherubic face. “I was sent to ye.”

“Sent...to me?”

“Aye.” She giggled, and it made his head spin. She was so...sweet. So lovely. Her hair was floating above and around her, never resting on her shoulders or back, like it was floating in water behind her. For the first time, he noticed the wreath of holly she wore atop her little head.

“By who?” Jamie’s eyes narrowed. He was a devout man; he’d not be tempted by one of Satan’s visions, sweet bairn or no. Yet, there was a lingering paganism in him, the part of him that believed his dreams of Claire were not makings of his own fevered imagination.

“By the Ghost of Hogmanay past,” she said proudly, as if reciting a poem taught to her in her lessons. She smiled, giggling again, and Jamie was overwhelmed by how small her glowing white teeth were.

“The...the what…?”

“She’s a little girl spirit like me,” the wee thing explained. “She gave me this crown of holly berries so I could do her job fer tonight.”

Jamie blinked dumbly, not at all understanding.

“It’s a very rare thing fer the spirits to appear,” she said, again like reciting lessons. “And even rarer that the honor be given to someone else. Like me.”

Jamie swallowed against a painfully dry throat, wracking his brain for what to say. “Why...why’ve they given ye the honor this time?”

She giggled again, and he swore he could feel it fluttering his heart. “Because the mortal they needed to reach was my Da.”

Something pricked him on the skull between his eyes, and he blinked rapidly.

“Da…?” His voice was nearly inaudible.

She nodded, her fiery tendrils bobbing midair, that flame that may or may not be atop her head flickering. She smiled sweetly, beatifically. “It’s me, Da.”

He thought he might faint. Copper hair, her mother’s eyes —

“It’s Faith.”

He lost vision completely for several seconds, but still glowed behind his eyelids, burned into his mind.

Faith.

His eyes opened again, burning and watery. The tears slipped out, unabashed, and a sob tore through him.

“Faith…?” he stammered, making to stand, but falling to his knees on the stone. “My...my Faith…?”

She was still smiling, twirling back and forth like any mortal wee lass, oblivious as to the effect she had on her father.

“Oh, mo chridhe…” he wept, inching forward toward her on the floor. “Christ, ye’re beautiful...I never even dared dream of ye...and here ye are...so bonny…”

She was now in arm’s reach, and he made a desperate grab for her, meaning to gather her in his strong arms and cradle her to his chest, rock her there for hours, never let her go.

But his hands met nothing but thin air, white-hot air, and he fell forward, his palms slapping the stones.

“I’m sorry, Da.”

She said it like she’d been caught eating too many bannocks or tormenting the chickens.

He heaved with shuddering breath, unable to look up at her again just yet after having his heart broken like that. He watched as his tears dotted the stone beneath her glowing feet.

“Mortals canna touch spirits.”

He bit back another sob, swallowing hard. Spirit or no, his daughter deserved better than to see her father completely unravel like this.

“It’s…” He sniffled. “It’s alright, lass.” He picked his head up, daring to look at her again. “It’s enough to...to see ye. To hear yer sweet wee voice.” He sniffled again, breaking out into a smile against his will. “I’ve...I’ve always loved ye, though I never saw ye. D’ye ken that?”

“Aye.” She nodded sweetly. “I ken. And I always loved ye, too.”

He was wracked by another sob, overwhelmed.

“Yer...yer mother…” he stammered. “Have ye…”

“No,” she said lightly. “Ma doesna need me.”

His brow furrowed. It was incomprehensible. How could Claire not need this? How could some powers-that-be decide that a mother need not see her child?

“Doesna need ye…?”

“I ken she misses me. But that’s no’ the same as needing me. That’s what the Ghost of Hogmanay Past said.”

“And why is it that I...need ye? And what’s all this about a Ghost of Hogmanay…?”

“It’s my job to show ye things ye need to see,” she said, that sweet, youthful pride pouring out of her again. “Hogmanay’s past.”

“I...I dinna understand…”

“It’s alright, Da. I’ll just show ye.”

She stooped down, reaching for his hand, and Jamie’s heart leapt into his throat. Perhaps he couldn’t touch her, but she could touch him. The thought almost had him weeping again.

But then there was fiery heat in his left hand, and his guts were in his mouth as the world dissolved around him. He cried out in fright, but there was no sound to be heard above the roaring wind.

As suddenly as it had begun, it stopped, and Faith was no longer holding his hand. He didn’t even see her at first, and the panic that that created was enough to make him completely unaware of his surroundings.

“Faith, mo chridhe? Where are ye? Come back, please…”

He whirled around and was met with a rowdy pair of children running headlong for him, and it was far too late to move out of their way. Much to Jamie’s horror, they ran right through him, as his hands had gone right through Faith.

Christ! Am I dead?

A small giggle.

He whirled around, and there she was, floating, flaming hair, glowing white skin and all.

“Ye’re no’ dead,” she said, shaking her head at his foolishness. “Ye’re...a visitor. But ye’re no’ really here. Everything here has already happened. Ye ken?”

His brow furrowed, and he finally took in his surroundings. He was...home?

But he wasn’t just inside the main house. No...something was different.

The parlor was decked out as Jenny always had it for Hogmanay when they could afford it, but it was far more extravagant than as far back as Jamie could remember. The greenery and the holly and the wreaths and the candles were simply beautiful. It was like stepping into a magical woodland castle, the air drugged with joy and high spirits.

And then he saw them.

“Da? Mam…?” His voice was no more than a choked whisper, and he found his feet bringing him closer to them before he even willed it.

They were whirling around the dance floor, and Jamie sidestepped other couples in vain. It didn’t matter anyway; they danced and twirled right through him. His mother was radiant. He’d forgotten, forgotten how beautiful she’d been, how full of life. And his father...he looked at his mother like he was holding the entire world in his arms. Jamie had forgotten what it was like to look at two people so in love, knowing that he had come from that love, however abstractly he’d known it at that age.

They were both laughing, red in the face from exertion. Jamie could not even keep up with them in following them around the room. He felt inexplicable giddiness bubbling in his chest. He used to watch them whirl around the floor all night, lost in the music of the fiddler accompanied by the laughter of love. Mam used to blow kisses at him and wink, sometimes Da would throw him up on his shoulders, or Jenny, or even both at once, tossing them both over each shoulder like sacks of grain.

“Willie! Lemme! Lemme!”

A piercing, chillingly familiar voice stood out among the throng. Jamie whirled around and completely froze.

That’s me.

Little Jamie was standing there, the tips of his ears red, his face twisted in a ridiculous scowl. He was watching two other children dancing clumsily, a little girl twirling around the finger of her partner.

“Willie…” Jamie breathed reverently, coming closer to the cloister of three children, unblinking, hardly daring to breathe.

“I want tae dance!” Little Jamie protested, stamping his foot. “Lemme!”

“Haud yer whisht!” Little Jenny scolded. “If ye dinna quit yer scowling, I’ll tell Mother to hide yer presents!”

“Jenny,” Willie interrupted. “He’s just a wee lad. Let him dance wi’ us.”

“He’s clumsy!” she protested, little nose wrinkling beneath mirthful, cunning blue eyes.

“He’ll never learn if he doesna get to try.”

Jamie crouched down nearby, watching and listening in awe. There Willie was, protesting about his brother being a wee lad, when he himself was only ten years old. He was wee as anything to Jamie.

And he’d be dead in a year.

“This must’ve been our last Hogmanay all together,” Jamie whispered before he realized he was saying it aloud. He didn’t need to look to know that Faith was standing beside him; he could feel the heat of her fiery presence, could see her glowing from the corner of his eye.

The little Jamie he was looking at was no older than five, Jenny was about seven. Willie would be eleven and dead soon, and his mother would follow in three more years. This was the last time everything had been truly magical during Hogmanay.

“This was...the last time,” Jamie said, unable to elaborate so that his tiny daughter would understand.

Willie finally convinced Jenny to allow Little Jamie to hold one of each of their hands, and they twirled and skipped in a circle. Little Jamie’s scowl seemed to transfer to his sister’s face, apparently unhappy that her nagging wee brother had gotten his way, but before long, all three children were laughing and squealing, tripping over each other in glee.

“The last time what, Da?” Jamie could not tell if his daughter was genuinely asking, or if she was wiser than she seemed and was trying to get him to reveal the contents of his weary soul.

“The last time we were...together. Happy.” Tears stung his eyes. “Willie was my very best friend, ye ken? I was so young when I lost him that I...I dinna even remember what it was like. But look at me....I’m looking at him like he hung the stars.”

And he was, Little Jamie. He adored his big brother. So did Jenny.

The fiddler ceased that particular tune, and everyone paused to applaud wildly, whooping and cheering. Da made his way over to his trio of wee Frasers. Jenny began hounding him to allow her to dance with him instead of Ma, Jamie began demanding to be sat on his shoulders. To compensate, he reached down with a great playful growl, scooping them up and tossing them over his shoulders as the fiddler started in again. Little Jamie and Jenny squealed their wee heads off as Da fully performed a jig with two bairns on his back, and Ma laughed her head off, taking Willie’s hands and swinging their arms between them.

Before long, the rest of the room took notice of Brian’s absurdity and was cheering him on, and then both of his wee children were sitting atop his shoulders, clinging to each other over his head as he danced. The jig finished and the room erupted again. Eyes leaking with tears of laughter, Ellen took Little Jamie into her arms, kissing his temple and rustling his wild hair as Jenny settled on Brian’s hip. His parents kissed, sweet and chaste and beautiful, and Jamie’s heart felt full and empty all at once.

“This truly was the last joyful holiday we had,” Jamie said with a sense of finality. He could live in this memory forever, forget the suffering that was to come, the fate of his poor brother and mother, the fate of himself all those years later. He wanted to fold himself into that loving embrace of that family of five, to meld himself with his five year old soul and live this night forever and ever.

“It wasna the last one, Da,” Faith said gently.

Before he knew what was happening, he felt a tiny, delicate hand grasping his again, and before he could speak the panicked protest on his lips into existence, his family was melting away in a whir of color, and the deafening wind was back. Jamie’s frightened cry made no sound, lost to the howling wind.

Colors began leaking back in around them, dimly lit and getting brighter by the second. It was like watching a painting being created right before his eyes, all around him. Then the parlor was back, the Hogmanay decorations all in their place, but just the slightest bit different. Jamie frantically whipped his head around, completely disoriented. His eyes took in a crowd gathered around a dancing couple, and he weaved in and out of them, apparently forgetting that he could just walk right through them if he wished. His heart soared, ready to find his mother and father again, but his breath was taken away at what he saw instead.

Jenny was grown now, hair long and flowing and tied back with a bow, her face bright and beaming, hands clasped with…

Ian.

He was laughing just as heartily, twirling and skipping and dancing right in step with Jenny.

Both of his legs.

Jenny was a young woman, clearly in love with the man that would be her husband, so this must have been…

“The last holiday before...” Jamie breathed reverently. “Before…everything.”

Before Fort William, before Da, before Ian’s leg was taken.

Before Claire.

“Mhmm.” Faith nodded in confirmation, swaying ethereally to the music. “Auntie is very bonny, aye?”

It took Jamie a moment to register her words, entranced as he was by the sight of his sister’s joy. So much had been lost, her brother, her mother. She’d become the woman of the house before she could even see over a washtub. Far too young. Yet, here she was, glowing, radiant.

She’s already stronger than I’ll ever be.

He smiled then, nodding. “Aye, lass. She’s bonny.”

He’d been so blind! How on earth hadn’t he seen the way his sister looked at his best friend? Where was he now that he hadn’t seen this, hadn’t heard the crowd whispering about what a bonny match they’d make someday?

A whooping roar sounded behind him, and Jamie whirled around, following the sound into the dining room, where he laughed out loud at what he saw.

Murtagh and his father were tossing back mugs of whisky and so was…

Himself.

It was not the same as looking at himself as a bairn; it was much stranger. It was so clearly him, yet it wasn’t at all. He was so young, this Jamie. So foolish; present Jamie could tell. He had that stupid glint in his eye, like he was seconds away from doing something foolish at any given time. The crowd roared again as the three men — or, rather, two men and the lad — slammed their mugs down. A drinking game of sorts.

“Aye, I remember,” Jamie breathed, laughing. “Da is about to drink me under the table!”

He’d passed out that night, so hell-bent on drinking more than his father and godfather that he hadn’t taken into account exactly how much he’d been consuming.

“I was sick as a bloody dog the next day,” Jamie went on, still laughing to Faith. “Da wouldna let it go fer weeks. Jenny didna even seem to notice, didna nag me as she would ha’ to see me in such a state. Her mind was elsewhere, I reckon.”

Jamie threw a look over his shoulder into the parlor, finding Jenny still bounding about the room with Ian, joined now by other couples. Jamie looked back again, watched as his father slapped younger Jamie’s back ruthlessly, causing him to sway, and causing the crowd to laugh raucously.

Then there was Da, beaming bright as young-and-in-love Jenny was.

Jamie had seen with his own two eyes how much losing his mother had crumbled his father. They were the loves of each other’s lives, there was no getting around it. Brian lost a piece of his heart when Ellen died, after having already buried a piece of it with Willie. Jamie knew the pain of losing a child, and he knew the pain of losing his wife.

And yet there he was, his father.

None could deny that there was always a quiet sadness about him after Willie, after Ma. But then he tossed his head back, howling with laughter as his son stumbled again, and Jamie’s heart twisted.

He carried on.

He looked back at Jenny again upon hearing her laugh, a shrill, shrieking sound that he’d always hated as a lad, but that now brought him such aching joy.

Certainly growing up too quickly had hardened her; it was unavoidable. And the horrors to come, Randall harming her, the rising and its aftermath, losing her own child...they’d all make her harder still. Jamie could see it in their present.

But she carried on.

Jamie did a visual sweep of the dining room, practically overflowing with food and decoration, every painstaking detail in place to give joy. He was certain that Jenny had done her best to recreate such a thing in her present day, for her children, for Fergus.

For him.

The way his Da had carried on and continued to make each holiday special after losing pieces of his heart had instilled itself into his daughter as well.

And it had missed Jamie himself.

Jamie was overwhelmed with crushing shame, tears stinging his eyes. His eyes bore into his father, so full of life, into himself so full of life. So young.

“Da...I…” he rasped, swallowing thickly. “I’ve failed ye. I have. I’ve failed Jenny, and Ma. I ken ye’d be disappointed in the man I’ve let myself become.”

How far had he fallen that such strength had eluded him? What was so bloody pathetic about him that he could not carry on as his father had set the example for his entire life?

“D’ye see, Da?” A little voice jolted him out of his reverie of self pity, and he finally tore his eyes away from the pillar of a man that he still loved fiercely, still missed with a painful ache.

Jamie’s brow furrowed. “Aye, lass...I see. I see that I’m a...a bloody coward. A puir excuse fer a son.”

“Oh, Da,” Faith’s wee voice was tinged with sympathy, as if she were coddling one of her dollies.

Jamie sniffled, then turned to look down at his beautiful wee daughter. “The spirits sent ye to humble me, then?” he said, trying to hide the bitterness in his voice for her sake. “To remind me how far I’ve fallen from this time of great joy?”

“Aye...I think so.”

Had he not felt sick to his stomach, Jamie might have laughed at her sweet innocence.

“But,” she went on, “all is not lost.”

She grasped his hand again, and Jamie threw a desperate glance back at his father, tossing his head back in laughter again; the last time he’d ever see him until the Eternal Kingdom.

The lights, the music, the laughter, and the joy all faded away like melting wax until the cave molded back into existence around them. His candle was still turned over, the only light in the room Faith’s glowing essence. Jamie’s head was spinning, so much so that he nearly forgot what Faith had just said:

All is not lost.

“What...what did ye mean, mo chridhe…? What isna lost?”

She giggled. “All!”

He laughed despite himself, his heart straining in his chest. He knelt down in front of his daughter, his hands physically aching with the need to reach out and touch her, and his heart splitting upon remembering that he couldn’t.

“Cheeky wee thing,” he said softly, his eyes glistening.

“It’ll be alright, Da,” Faith said sweetly. “The other spirits will help ye understand.”

“Others?”

“Aye, I only showed ye the past. The spirits said ye must see the present and future as well.”

“But what...what good’ll it do…?”

She smiled, reaching out to ghost a white hot finger over his nose. “It’ll do all the good in the world, Da. I promise.”

Jamie leaned into her touch, but was met with nothing but air.

“Can ye promise me ye’ll keep yer heart open?” Faith asked, and the room suddenly seemed to get darker.

Her light is fading.

“Faith? Faith, mo chridhe, what’s happening?”

“Promise, Da. Promise that what I showed ye has opened yer heart fer the next spirits.”

She’s leaving.

“Please, lass, dinna leave me…”

“Promise,” she begged, fading dimmer and dimmer.

“Aye,” Jamie choked, a sob wracking through his body. “Aye, my sweet babe...I promise.”

Faith sighed with relief, smiling brightly. “Thank ye, Da.”

“Wait…!”

“I love you, Da.”

And she was gone.

Jamie fell forward onto his hands and knees, sobbing gutturally, every inch of his body alight with the horrible pain of losing her again.

“I...I love you too, Faith.”

The room was entirely black, black as his heart felt now that she was gone. He didn’t bother to light the candle, didn’t even move from his hands and knees as he wept for his lost brother, parents, his poor daughter, and the mother that would never be given such a gift as he had to see her and hear her voice.

Then there was light again; he could see it behind his burning eyelids. He looked behind him. The candle was still turned over, unlit. He turned back around, sitting on his haunches and beholding the next glowing spirit to grace his presence.

He almost fainted.

“...Sassenach?”

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pinktintedmonocle · 4 years ago

Text

The Pin-Up - A Cobra Kai Lawrusso Fanfic - Explicit / NSFW

In which Johnny does post his thirst trap photos after all, and Daniel just can’t stop thinking about them.

Written for this prompt on the Cobra Kai kink meme:

Since Cobra Kai made Billy Zabka's thirst trap photos canon, I desperately need a fanfic of Daniel reacting to them. Maybe they were published when Johnny first did the photoshoot, and Daniel just happened to see them on the cover of the magazine. Or maybe Miguel eventually caved and posted them to Johnny's facebook as a Throwback Thursday kinda thing, and Amanda liked them. I really need a fic of Daniel reacting to those photos. Please!

“Hey kids, bananarama chocolate chip pancakes are up!” called Daniel, flipping them over in the pan. He glanced across at Amanda, sitting at the table scrolling through her phone.

“You want some, honey?” he asked.

Amanda didn’t seem to hear him, eyes transfixed to the screen. Daniel put the pancakes into a serving dish and took them over to the table.

“Earth to Amanda”, he said, placing the dish down and waving a hand in front of her face.

Amanda blinked and looked up. “Sorry babe.” She noticed the food. “Ooo, pancakes!” She transferred two pancakes from the dish to her own plate and went back to staring at her phone.

“What are you looking at?” asked Daniel, digging into his own breakfast. “Whatever it is, it’s clearly more interesting than me.”

Amanda smirked. “Johnny Lawrence. He’s – ah – posted some photos of himself on Facebook.”

“So?” asked Daniel, frowning. “What’s so distracting about that? You see him almost every day at the dojo.”

“Not like this”, said Amanda. She turned her phone around so her husband could see the screen and Daniel nearly choked on a mouthful of pancake.

The first photo was of a young Johnny on a beach, kneeling in the waves in a pair of tight low rise jeans. His hair was damp and messy and the sunlight glinted off his smooth chest and perfect abs.

Daniel swallowed painfully. “What the hell is that?” he asked, reaching for a glass of water.

Amanda grinned. “Apparently he did some modelling work in the eighties and nineties. He posted them this morning for a throwback Thursday thing.” She stood up, smoothing down her dress and grabbed her phone. “I gotta get to the dealership, get a head start on some paperwork.” She leant over and gave Daniel a kiss. “I’ll see you there later, let you look at the rest of Johnny’s pictures in private.”

Daniel pulled a face. “I have no desire to look at Johnny Lawrence’s modelling photos, believe me.”

“Whatever you say, babe”, Amanda teased, walking out of the room.

Daniel huffed and continued to eat his pancakes, trying to think of anything except the photographs. He failed miserably, and after a minute he pulled out his own phone and navigated to Johnny’s Facebook page.

The second photo was of Johnny leaning against rocks wearing white pants, his black headband and nothing else. His hair was a little longer in this one, and it curled up in fluffy blonde tufts. His chest was tanned and more muscular than in the photo on the beach, his pecs well defined and glistening with oil. Daniel licked his lips, wondering vaguely why his mouth suddenly felt so dry. At least in the third photo Johnny was sort of wearing a shirt, even if it wasn’t doing a particularly good job of covering anything. Daniel tugged at his collar, feeling quite hot for some reason.

“Hey dad”, said Sam, coming into the kitchen and causing Daniel to snap of his reverie and drop his fork. She frowned. “You OK?”

“Yeah, I’m fine”, said Daniel, wincing as his voice came out low and raspy. He took another gulp of water and then stood up quickly, adjusting his suit and sliding his phone into his pocket. “I’ve got to get to work, but I’ll see you later. Have a good day at school, sweetheart.” He dropped a kiss into her hair as he passed before leaving the house and getting into his car, the pictures still lingering in his mind as he drove to the dealership.

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

Daniel found it hard to focus on work. He had back-to-back meetings for most of the day, but he barely heard anything that was said in them, instead letting Amanda take the reins. He managed to escape outside for five minutes over lunch and found himself opening up Facebook automatically and staring at the photos, biting his lip as he took in Johnny’s golden locks and chiselled abs. As he was looking, his phone rang and Johnny’s name flashed up on the screen. Daniel nearly dropped the phone in shock before answering the call.

“What do you want, Johnny?”

“Hello to you too, LaRusso. Look, can you give me a ride to training tonight? Can’t get the engine started on my car.”

“You mean my car, which you effectively stole form the chop shop and never returned to the dealership?”

“Yeah, that one”, said Johnny, unfazed.

Daniel sighed. “Yeah, sure Johnny. I’ll be round at six.”

“Alright. Hey, sure you’re OK, LaRusso? Your voice sounds strange.”

“I’m fine”, Daniel snapped, hanging up. He took a moment to breathe deeply before heading back inside the dealership.

“You OK, hon?” asked Amanda, looking at him with a frown.

“Yeah, I’m OK, why does everyone keep asking me that?”

Amanda raised an eyebrow. “Alright, calm down Mr.” She gestured towards his mouth. “It’s just that your lip is bleeding. What, did you manage to get into a fight in the trading lot just now?”

Daniel touched his lip gingerly and winced. “It’s nothing, I just bit it. Anyway, ready for the next meeting? Who’s this one with, marketing?”

Amanda stared at him with a look of concern. “No, we had the meeting with marketing his morning. You were there for all forty minutes of it. Are you sure you’re OK, Daniel?”

Daniel thought of the photographs again, of Johnny Lawrence’s perfect body. He shook his head.

“I’m fine”, he said, smiling tightly. “Really I am.”

Amanda looked unconvinced, but mercifully didn’t say anything else as she steered Daniel towards the meeting room.

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

At 6pm Daniel knocked sharply on the door of the apartment in Reseda.

“Alright, I’m coming”, yelled Johnny. “Just don’t kick your way in this time, LaRusso.”

Daniel rolled his eyes and a few seconds later Johnny opened the door and ushered Daniel inside.

“You coming to practice like that?” asked Daniel, gesturing towards a robe-clad Johnny.

“I just had a shower, LaRusso, don’t get your panties in a twist. Let me get changed and then we’ll go.”

Johnny disappeared into the bedroom and Daniel sighed and sat down on the couch. Amongst the discarded cans of Coors Banquet and Slim Jim wrappers on the coffee table there was an old shoebox with a few pieces of paper poking out at the sides. He glanced towards the bedroom to check Johnny was still occupied before flipping the lid open, curious to see what was inside. He sucked in a sharp breath when he saw the photos. He picked up the one with Johnny in the white pants and the black headband and swallowed thickly, thumb grazing over Johnny’s torso.

“Alright, I’m ready”, called Johnny, emerging from the bedroom. Daniel quickly put the pictures back into the box and closed it. However, as Johnny rounded the corner he realised he was still clutching the white pants photo in one hand. He stuffed it in his pocket and stood up.

“OK”, Daniel said, desperately trying to act casual. “Let’s go.”

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

Daniel had the house to himself on Friday night; Amanda was out with friends and both Sam and Anthony had sleepovers. He considered going out himself, calling Louise or Anoush and seeing if they wanted to go for a drink, but it had been a long week and he wasn’t sure he had the energy to deal with either of them. You could call Johnny, said a little voice in his head, but he ignored it. Getting drunk with Johnny was probably not a good idea, not so soon after the incident with the photographs. He thought about the one he had stolen, now shoved down the side of the drawer in his nightstand, and he licked his lips.

No, he told himself firmly, pouring out another glass of wine. I’m not thinking about that picture. He sat down on the couch and started flicking through channels on the TV, trying to find something to take his mind off it.

After three more glasses of wine and an hour of a particularly dull documentary, Daniel found himself in the bedroom, looking at the picture of Johnny. God, he was gorgeous. He wondered if Johnny still looked a little like that under his clothes, or if he was a bit softer now. It was hard to tell; he was clearly still in shape, but maybe not quite that in shape. Daniel shook his head. This had to stop. His concentration span was shot to pieces and Amanda had been giving him increasingly concerned looks for the past two days. He just needed to find a way to get these feelings out of his system.

He glanced down at his watch. 9pm. It would probably be hours before Amanda arrived home, so he had plenty of time. And really, what choice did he have? He needed to clear his head and regain his focus so he could concentrate on both his business and training his and Johnny’s students so they could win the tournament. One time only, and that would be it.

Without further ado he pulled off his sweatpants and underwear, fished a bottle of lube out of his nightstand and lay down on the bed. He looked at the photo and bit his lip hard, tasting the copper tang of blood. He imagined running his hands over that firm chest, imagined Johnny’s large, rough hands on his own slim waist and felt himself start to harden.

He squirted a generous amount of lube into one hand and took hold of his cock, running his hand up and down the shaft as he became erect. He pictured himself burying his face in Johnny’s neck, breathing in his scent of sweat and oil and felling wisps of blonde hair tickle his lips. Daniel moaned, arching his back as his cock leaked. He thought about pulling down Johnny’s white pants and rubbing their cocks together. Then Johnny would press Daniel into the rocks before kneeling down and taking Daniel in his mouth, and as Daniel gasped in pleasure he would grab a handful of Johnny’s hair to steady himself as he bucked his hips, encouraging Johnny to suck him harder and faster.

On the bed, Daniel was close to orgasm. He realised he wanted to make this last, to spend more time in this fantasy, but he was far too aroused to last much longer. He imagined coming in Johnny’s mouth and the blonde swallowing before standing up and kissing Daniel and Daniel tasting himself on Johnny’s tongue.

Daniel came hard, hand still working his cock frantically as he rode out his orgasm, vision blurring. When he was done his body relaxed, boneless and sated, sinking into the soft bed. The photograph was lying on his chest and he picked it up, smearing cum across Johnny’s torso as he did so. He swore under his breath and picked up a tissue from the nightstand, trying to wipe the photo clean. He got most of it off, but there was still a suspicious looking stain over Johnny’s abs; he definitely couldn’t give the photo back now. The sensible thing to do would be to rip it into tiny pieces and put it in the garbage disposal, but Daniel didn’t quite have the heart to do that. Not yet.

Instead he stood up and wiped himself down before picking up a book from beside the bed that he’d been reading on and off for several months. He tucked the photo in the dust jacket and put it back down before padding across to the bathroom for a shower.

He may not actually look at the photo again, he reasoned, but surely there was no harm in keeping it?

Just in case.

#cobra kai #cobrakaifanfic #cobrakaifanfiction #Daniel LaRusso #Johnny Lawrence #lawrusso

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deadlynightshade-and-hyacinth · 4 years ago

Text

I’m Gonna Crawl

Chapter 9 Morning of July 23, 1973

The morning light danced across my eyelids from the small window high up on the wall of the plane’s bedroom. I opened my eyes and groaned. A breathtaking hangover ailed my dying body as I laid on the bed wishing the feeling would cease. I shifted to sit up but something heavy was draped across my abdomen making it impossible to move. I glanced down to see Jimmy’s arm holding me tightly against his body.

‘Oh God, no…’ I tried to recall the contents of last night… Jonesy sent me back to the plane, drunk, of course I was drunk. Few memories popped up from the abyss, Jimmy convincing me to stay on the plane with him… having an incredible evening with him, surprisingly… and… ‘Oh no… I slept with him. Oh fuck! Fuck! Fuck!’ I stiffened as I felt him move against me. I squeezed my eyes shut, wishing I were anywhere but here. He stopped moving and sighed in a heavy stupor.

And there it was, a flash of last night burning bright in my memory, I initiated it. I came onto him. Jesus Christ, why was I such a disaster with drink in hand? How do I get out of here? I looked down at his arm again and gently wrapped my fingers around the pale flesh. When I attempted to lift his arm off of me, he squeezed tighter.

“Where do you think you’re trying to go?” His sleepy voice was lagging and slow. I tilted my head to look at him but he had his face buried in my hair. He took a deep breath in through his nose. “Your hair has an intoxicating scent.” He murmured.

“I have to go.” I said quietly. His arm squeezed me tighter.

“You don’t have to go anywhere.” His melting honey voice was slightly muffled. “You, little girl, owe me.”

“Owe you?” I asked incredulously.

“Mhm.” He took another deep breath in before he lifted his face from my mass of brown curls. He propped himself up on his elbow, his other arm still holding my backside to him. I turned my head to meet his gaze, his green eyes were bright and full of frenzy, his dark curls a bountiful mess atop his head. “You owe me for last night.” His crooked grin was breathtaking.

I raised my eyebrows to which he rolled his eyes. “Of course, you don’t remember.” He mocked me. “Last night you gave me permission to touch you. I finally had what I wanted in my grasp…”

“If you got what you wanted then why do I owe you?”

He paused, slightly taken back. “What is the last thing you remember?” He lifted an eyebrow.

I could feel my face turning pink. The last thing I remembered was his hand on my center, his lips so close to mine and me needing more. “You were teasing me.” I gave him a dull, unimpressed look to which he chuckled. “Beyond that I have no fucking idea what you did to me.”

He raised both his eyebrows this time, a disgusted look on his face. “Necrophilia isn’t really my thing.” He said darkly.

“So, we didn’t fuck?” I sounded too hopeful; his face fell.

“No, darling. Unfortunately, you passed out before I could fuck you.” He emphasized the word I had used.

I inhaled sharply through my nose. “Oh, thank god.” I exhaled as I spoke. His smile was wide, mysterious and confusing the hell out of me. “What are you smiling about.”

He shrugged, his smile never faltering. “I may not have gotten what I want… But now I know the desire is double sided.” His eyebrows jumped, amused. “You let your guard down and proved that you want me just as bad as I want you.”

I gave him a disapproving look. “I was drunk.” I defended myself.

“Alcohol merely brings your deeper emotions to the surface.” He murmured; his grin cocky. “Gives you the confidence to go after what you truly desire.

I turned my face away from him. “I have no deeper emotions for you, I was drunk, I have no desire for you, James.”

“No?” He asked mischievously.

“No.”

“Hmm.” He pondered, pressing his semi-hard cock against my ass making my center throb. I bit my lip to keep quiet but when he pushed himself against me again a little whimper escaped my lips. “I don’t think you’re being very honest.” He whispered as he pushed my hair so my neck and shoulder were exposed. He gently laid his lips on the flesh just below my ear. A shiver shot down my spine making me shake against him. He let out a quiet grunt at the friction, his breathing heavy. His lips moved down to the divot where my neck met my shoulder but instead of kissing, he lightly dug his teeth into my skin. I let out another whimper. “Turn around.” He said huskily.

When I didn’t move, he bit into my skin again, higher up my neck and harder until I let out a whine. He replaced his teeth with his lips and began to suck the aching spot. When I started whimpering, he stopped, his lips found my ear. “Turn around, please.” He sounded as though he were on the verge of begging.

I didn’t move again, frozen to the spot. My brain was a disaster, a battle in sue. A sharp pain in my shoulder snapped me out of my reverie. He bit down on the back of my shoulder then sucked the spot again. I was panting heavily, my core throbbing vigorously, little whines escaping my lips.

Swiftly his fingers on the arm he had tangled around my waist wrapped around and pulled me so I would turn to face him. His eyes were smouldering, light green pools of ominous bliss. It felt as though I were melting like a bright, burning candle dripping down the sides of the candelabra. He pulled me closer so our bodies were touching, his cock harder now against me.

“Page!” Peter roared from the other room. “You better be on this goddamn plane.”

Jimmy sighed heavily; irritation heavy in his tone. “I swear to the fucking gods I’m going to murder someone.” He grumbled as he released me and sat up.

“Be out in a minute.” He yelled to Peter. He turned to face me and gently cupped my cheek in his hand. “To be continued, love.” He pressed his lips firmly to mine before getting up and shimmying into his jeans.

“Get out here Page!” Peter’s gruff voice was outside the bedroom door now.

“Christ Peter give me a bloody second will yah?” He donned a silk button down and opened the door just enough that Peter wouldn’t be able to see in. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” He murmured with malice.

“Don’t give me attitude, Page.” Peter warned. “You’re on thin ice. Where is Cali? You were supposed to bring her back to the hotel last night.” Aggravation and impatience were heavy in his timbre.

“She’s here and she’s fine.” Jimmy matched his attitude.

“Bloody hell, Page. You should have brought her back to the hotel.” He scolded. “She’s got a visitor waiting for her. Bloke looks right pissed that I couldn’t find her.”

My heart dropped with a deep hollow thump. I quickly hopped off the bed and patted my wrinkled outfit down. “Shit.” I mumbled. Jimmy turned and looked at me, something odd in his eyes.

“Who’s looking for her?” Jimmy turned back to Peter.

“Bloke named Daniel. Showed up at the hotel about forty minutes ago.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I raced around the bed and grabbed my shoes.

“Where is he now?” Jimmy asked.

“At the bloody hotel!” Peter was highly irate. “You better not be in their fucking things up cause I’m telling you now, I am not looking for a new film agent once this all goes to hell in a bloody hand basket!”

“It’s alright Peter.” I stood beside Jimmy and pulled the door open. “Just fell asleep here. James has been on his best behaviour.” I assured him with a forced smile. “Excuse me.” I nodded to the two of them then made my way hastily out of the plane.

Jimmy followed me to the parked car. “Peter is staying here.” He murmured, his tone low, his gaze on the ground. He opened the door and motioned for me to get in.

He slid in silently beside me. He was quiet for most of the car ride, his gaze forward until we were around the corner from the hotel.

“Did you ask him to come?” He wondered quietly.

I was slightly put back. I turned my gaze to him but he kept looking forward. “As I recall I told him I was never speaking to him again.” He still didn’t look at me. “I don’t know how he found me…” I murmured mostly to myself.

He turned his gaze to me, his eyes lighter. “You didn’t tell him where you were?”

I shook my head. “What exactly happened between the two of you?”

I sighed. “It’s a long story.”

The car stopped in front of the hotel. I grabbed the handle of the door to get out but Jimmy stopped me.

“Tell me.” He pleaded softly.

I blinked, trying to register what was in his head at that moment. After deliberating I sighed. “I caught him cheating. I ignored his calls, and wouldn't answer the door. Which only pissed him off. And then I left… with you.”

“Is it over?” His eyes were blank, guarded.

I nodded; our eyes linked. He grabbed the sides of my face and pressed his lips against mine, kissing me deeply. I kissed him back, my hunger growing like a forest fire. To my dismay he pulled away.

“Stay here. I’ll get rid of him.” He went for the door.

“No. He won’t leave. He’s stubborn and prone to tantrums, much like yourself.” He shook his head, a small smile on his lips. “I have to tell him myself.” I sighed.

He nodded, understandingly. “I’ll wait here.”

#led zeppelin fanfiction #led zeppelin #led zeppelin fanfic #jimmy page #jimmy page fanfic #jimmy page fanfiction #jimmy page fan fic #john paul jones #John Bonham #robert plant #I'm Gonna Crawl #chapter 9

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an-angels-blessing · 3 years ago

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Song Prompts #1

“Will nature make a man of me yet?”- The Smiths, This Charming Man

“If I leave here tomorrow, would you still remember me?”- Lynyrd Skynyrd, Free Bird

“When my time comes around, lay me gently in the cold dark earth. No grave can hold my body down, I’ll crawl home to her.”- Hozier, Work Song

“I don’t think that we should be alone together, when we’re in a room you get my eyes, you open your mouth I’m hypnotised”- The Neighbourhood, Single

“She looks as if she’s blowing a kiss at me and suddenly the sky is a scissor”- Arctic Monkeys, That’s where you’re wrong

“You think you want to be alone, just wait until you’re crying on the shower floor”

“They’ve got a pretty face, but they’ve got a pretty empty head.”

“But how the hell do you fall in love, the last time I checked you can’t fall in slow mo”- LANY- The Breakup *There were too many good ones in this song, I couldn’t help myself*

“I know it’s mad, but if I go to hell will you go with me or just leave?” - Panic! At The Disco, Do you know what I’m seeing?

“I don’t know who’s protecting me, but we hit it off”- Drake, Sandra’s Rose

“Do me a favour and break my nose, do me a favour and tell me to go away?”- Arctic monkeys, Do me a favour

“Baby just came back around, said she needs time to explore, said I can’t love her no more”- The Neighbourhood, Baby came home

“Just one mistake, you say you’re not in love no more, but was it really love if you can leave me for something so innocent is this the end?”- LANY, Thick and thin

“You can have Manhattan, I know it’s for the best, I’ll gather up the avenues and leave them on your doorstep. I’ll tiptoe away so you won’t have to say you heard me leave.”

“You can have Manhattan, the one we used to share, the one where we were laughing and drunk on just being there. Hang onto the reverie, could you do that for me?”- Sara Bareilles, Manhattan

“You don’t love me, big fucking deal, I’ll never tell you how I feel.”

“I’ll send my best regards from Hell”- Marina and the Diamonds, Starring Role

“I been writing these songs ‘bout how I can’t be with you. I don’t want to be a monster, but I’ve been here for days, drinking too much now I want you, can’t get you off my brain.”- Henry, Monster, Eng. version

“Change lives, get better, yeah that be the plan”

“That’s why you see me winning, yeah, even after I lose”- Jay Park, Ask bout me

“Love is not looking over shoulders, Love is you should trust what I told you”

“Love is not struggling to say I love you”- 6LACK, Disconnect

“All these people taking miles when you give them an inch, all these followers but who’s gonna follow me until the end?”- Drake, Emotionless

“She’s in the rain, you wanna hurt yourself I’ll stay with you, you wanna make yourself go through that pain, It’s better to be held than holding on,”- The Rose, She’s In The Rain *Absolutely love this one, don’t @ me, I will die for the The Rose**

“Sex by the fire at night”- Bruno Mars, That’s What I Like

“I’ve got the good side of you, sent it out into the blue.”- Troye Sivan, Good Side

“Standing by the window, rain falling, I want to have you full in my embrace and tell you, even when I’m born again and love you, even then, will you be with me?”- KREAM, 선물 Gift *Translated*

“It all passes, Someday, For sure, Certainly”- RM, ft. NELL, everythingoes *Translated*

“Please stay as long as you need, can’t promise that things won’t be broken, but I swear that I will never leave. Please stay forever with me”- Sleeping With Sirens, Scene One- James Dean & Audrey Hepburn

“When you move, I’m put to mind of all that I wanna be, when you move

I could never define all that you are to me”- Hozier, Movement

“Wake up and smell the coffee, is your cup half full or empty?”- Billie Eilish, come out and play

“Am I a bad person? Or am I just in pain?”- DEAN, Sulli, Rad Museum, Dayfly *Translated*

“Kiss me on the lips, a secret just between the two of us, deeply poisoned by the jail of you, I cannot worship anyone but you and I knew the grail was poisoned but I drank it anyway”- BTS, Blood Sweat & Tears *Translated*

“When the sun sets and darkness comes, I only remember your warmth, where the stars wrap around us. I’m going there, I’ll be there”- SEVENTEEN, Highlight *Translated*

“I don’t ever wanna feel like anything I do ever had a fucking resonance or meant a thing to you.”- Frank Carter & The Rattlesnakes, I Hate You

“You can’t take this away from me, the way I hit the melody, the waves bring clarity, running through me”- Tom Misch, Del La Soul, It Runs Through Me

“It was a lie when they smiled and said you won’t feel a thing”- My Chemical Romance, Disenchanted

“The fog has lifted and things get clear, all the lies pass by like a reel of film. I hate you”- EXO, 내가 미쳐 (Going Crazy) *Translated*

“I’m sorry- no, I’m not sorry, I’m just getting started and my life’s a party”- DEAN, Eric Bellinger, I’m Not Sorry

“Ain’t it fun, living in the real world?”- Paramore, Ain’t It Fun

“Ready or not, we are coming back- yeah, we’re over, we can tell you ‘bout what you need. You can look it up when you’re older”- Evergreen, Cargo Cult

“You, you got so much potential, every moment spent with you I bet was always eventful”- Aminé, Kehlani, Heebiejeebies- Bonus

“Could you imagine the taste of your lips if we never tried to kiss on the drive to Queens? ‘Cause I imagine the weight of your ribs if you lied between my hips in the backseat”- Halsey, Roman Holiday

“Forever isn’t for everyone, is forever for you?”- Arctic Monkeys, Snap Out Of It

“Wish you good luck being lonely, I’mma push red every time you phone me. You vow to be a memory”- Ella Mai, ft. Ty Dolla $ign, She Don’t

“I’ve been dazed and confused from the day I met you, yeah I lost my head and I’d do it again”- Ruel, Dazed & Confused

“I just want you closer, is that alright? Baby let’s get closer tonight”- Paolo Nutini, Last request

“You have no idea how pretty you are when you wake from sleep, you have no idea how beautiful you look as you get ready for bed”- Zion.T, No Makeup *Translated*

“I was thinking I could fly to your hotel tonight, baby, ‘cos I can’t get you off my mind”- Shawn Mendes, Lost In Japan

“She’s soothing like the ocean rushing on the sand, she takes care of me, baby, she helps me be a better man. She’s so beautiful, sometimes I stop to close my eyes, she’s exactly what I need”- Jeremy Passion, Lemonade

“And her lips are like the galaxy’s edge and her kiss the colour of a constellation falling into place”- Arctic Monkeys, Arabella

“It’s how you look, not how you feel. A city of glass with no heart”- Queens of the Stone Age, If I Had a Tail

“I’ll tell you my sins and you can sharpen your knife”- Hozier, Take Me To Church

“Bitter and hardened heart, Oh, aching- waiting for life to start”- Keane, Bend & Break

“When you move I’m put to mind of all that I wanna be, when you move I could never define all that you are to me”- Hozier, Movement

“She said, ‘Baby, I’m afraid to fall in love, 'cause what if it’s not reciprocated?’ I told her, ‘Don’t rush girl, don’t you rush, guess it’s all a game of patience.’”- Pink Sweat$, Honesty

“Share a casket with you, we’ll be buried alive, me and her playing truth ‘til the day we die.”- Granata Ft. Phoniks, You Dont Need Me

“And hope that I had survived yesterday, and today is jealous of tomorrow.”- Emeli Sandé, Breathing Underwater

“Heaven if you sent us down so we could build a playground for the sinners to play as saints, you’d be so proud of what we’ve made.” Stephen, Crossfire

“Tell me how do you cope with it? How do you sleep with yourself at night? How do you cope with it? How do you sleep with yourself at night?”- blackbear, make daddy proud

“If anyone looks perfect, you look perfect next to me.”- Nick Wilson, Obsolete

“When I meet you after time passes, I’ll know (you were my future), I’ll know (I was your yesterday). When I meet you after time passes, I’ll know (you protected me), I’ll know (I desired you).”- SEVENTEEN (Wen Junhui & Xu Minghao), My I *Translated*

“I need my sex n’ drugs, I need my money first, bless me with all my sins.”- Abhi The Nomad, Ft. Harrison Sands & Copper King, Sex ‘n Drugs

“Naked and fallin’ in love, look here I got you. Safe where there’s no one to judge, keep it insightful.”- Keiynan Lonsdale, Preach

“All alone, all we know is haunting me, making it harder to breathe, harder to breathe.”- The Neighbourhood, Leaving Tonight

“Now I see you get off of the subway, haven’t seen you in months but it’s okay. I’d forgotten but I feel the same, hate that I still wish you were…”- Claud, Wish You Were Gay

“A perfect stranger lying next to me, he’s playing God with broken figurines. He keeps calling me his little queen and I believe.”- Jake Wesley Rogers, Little Queen (This song deserves way more recognition, make sure to give it a listen!)

“Hell is so close to Heaven, hell is so close to Heaven. Hold on don’t look back, you know we’re better- we’re better than that. Lost and thrown away, you know we’re better- we’re better than that.”- Sleeping With Sirens, The Strays

“Alone tonight, I’m drawing my dreams across the sky farther than I can imagine- She wants it.”- CIX, Movie Star *Translated*

“Yeah I mixed words and some whiskey on the flight just to make sure I landed on time and I wrote me a song I could sing just in case I forgot everything.”- Marc E. Bassy, Last One I Love

“Don’t ask questions you don’t wanna know, learned my lesson way too long ago.”

“Deadly fever, please don’t ever break, be my reliever 'cause I don’t self medicate”- Billie Eilish, my strange addiction

“And it’s worth it, it’s divine, I have this some of the time.”- Hozier, Cherry Wine

“And I realize you’re mine, Indeed, a fool am I.”- Queens of the Stone Age, No One Knows

“Look in the mirror ‘til I forget everything I know, everything I did was just a way to make the time feel faster.”- Miya Folick, Stock Image

“Do you feel how I feel? Are you numb? Do you tread crystal waters, bound to be stung? Are you scared? If I see you, we’re upon,

will you dye your hair dark so you’re no longer blonde?”- Isaac Dunbar, Cologne

“Tell me; To you I’m bad & hurtful. Because I’ve been busy, you’re hurting. Bad, bad, bad, I’m bad, bad.”- Crush, NAPPA (나빠) *Translated*

“Just for the record, the weather today is slightly sarcastic with a good chance of: A. Indifference or B. disinterest to what the critics say.”- Panic! At The Disco, London Beckoned Songs About Money Written By Machines

“‘Cause you don’t say what you feel, I’m the one driving but you take the wheel. You wanna wait, 'til we’re older, I’m the one who started this, but now I just want closure.”- Ieuan, Closure

“Our names carved in the pavement, sealed by what’s left of our handprints, now. I told my mom, she’d love to meet you, but it’s too bad she won’t get the chance to.”- COIN, Malibu 1992

“I’m running outta time to hold you close, running outta time to be your man. I’m just lost in this moment, I’ve been zoning.”- blackbear, 4u

“Standing on your mama’s porch, you told me that you’d wait forever. Oh and when you held my hand, I knew that it was now or never”- Bryan Adams, Summer Of ‘69

“I’ll go out, grow my hair too long, sing your least favourite songs at the top of my lungs. I’ll go out, kiss all of your friends, make a story and pretend it was me who made this end.”- The Vamps, Hair Too Long

“Getting my mind right, I’ll wait 'til the time’s right. I’m meaning to tell you why it’s hard to sleep at night. There’s nothing to fear now, girl, we should be here now. So why don’t you hear me out?”- Jeremy Zucker, Ft. blackbear, talk is overrated

“We haven’t spoke since you went away, comfortable silence is so overrated. Why won’t you ever be the first one to break? Even my phone misses your call, by the way.”- Harry Styles, From the Dining Table

“Look overhead at the stars and the ocean, foggy emotions, moments, erosion. This supernova could cause a commotion, my minds of the notion, you’ll still be my motive”- Ansel Elgort, Supernova

“I love that new dress you bought, yeah, you sure look nice. Heard you liked that new restaurant, you know, I’ve been there twice. And the way that you switch up your hair, all of the moments we’ve shared, strolling the streets back in Rome, oh, how I wish I was there. It ain’t fair.”- Ruel, Face To Face

“Welcome to your life, there’s no turning back. Even while we sleep we will find you acting on your best behaviour, turn your back on mother nature.”- Tear For Fears, Everybody Wants to Rule the World

“I’m wide awake, not losing any sleep, I picked up every piece and landed on my feet. I’m wide awake, need nothing to complete myself, no.” Katy Perry, Wide Awake

“If you don’t realize, all of the things your life can do you will be left behind, swept up by the storm of those you knew.”- Meltycanon, thankful

“I always knew that we’d be by each other’s side forever, now our time has come and I’d be satisfied if we died together. Yeah, our climate’s fucked, we might as well enjoy the weather, our time is up and I’d be satisfied if we died together.”- Samsa, Anthropocene

“There’s still so much to say, I’m faded, broken, pretending you’re on the line, wasting my time. Sinking deeper, watching you spend your night,

like I’ll be fine and I’ll be over this.”- NYK, Faded

“I’d rather go to hell, than be in purgatory, cut my hair, gag and bore me, pull this pin, let this world explode.”- My Chemical Romance, Na Na Na (Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na Na)

“I reached for a shooting star, it burned a hole through my hand

Made its way through my heart, had fun in the promised land.”- blink-182, Wishing Well

“Let go of your baggage, but don’t think I don’t understand it’s probably a challenge,”- Isaac Lewis, Fly

“It’s been a long night in New York city, it’s been a long night in Baton Rouge. I don’t remember you looking any better, but then again, I don’t remember you.”- John Mayer, Who Says

Prompts 101-119

#song prompts #prompts

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katefiction · 4 years ago

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Angels - Part 1

by mrandmrswales (Emily) / January 28, 2013

So this is my first fanfic that I’m publishing and I am as expected a little nervous about it! I really hope you like it and so please give me feedback, negative or positive!! It’s set on December 25th 2020. Kate and William have had two little girls, Princesses Elizabeth and Isabella (Libby and Belle). I hope there aren’t any mistakes! If you have any ideas for part 2, let me know!

Emily x

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‘Mummy! Daddy! Wake up! It’s Christmas! Father Christmas came!’ two high-pitched voices filled my head and last remaining grip I had on sleep left me as I was jumped on by two little weights in excitement. Libby crawled next to me, forcing my body away from my wife’s and curling into Kate’s side. Any other day, I would have been a little irritated to be awoken rather rudely at quarter to 7, but it was Christmas Day after all. With a smile, I sat up and turned the lights on to observe my two little angels clutching their stockings. Their faces were red with excitement and their lovely green eyes, almost the same as their mother’s, glowed with anticipation.

‘Happy Christmas darlings.’ said Kate, giving them both kisses and I did the same. Christmas had never been the same for me after my mother died, however soon after meeting Kate and being able to spend it with her and then later our two daughters had rejuvenated my love of Christmas. Our littlest, Belle, who had been sitting at the end of our bed while Libby had wriggled between Kate and I, had decided she was cold so crawled in next to me and I gave her a cuddle.

“You excited sweetie?’ I asked and she nodded. She was a lot quieter than Libby who had always been the more outgoing and louder of the two, which was probably a good thing considering she was to be Queen. ‘Who’s excited to open presents?!’ I said cheerfully and was met with two little squeals of excitement. I glanced at Kate who was helping Libby to unwrap her first present and felt a swell of pride and happiness. My little family at Christmas-nothing could be better.

An hour later, our room looked like a bomb had hit it. Wrapping paper was everywhere and presents adorned the bed. In the middle sat Libby, Belle and Kate smiling widely as I took a photo, the girls holding up their favourite presents for the camera. Libby had a new scarf and Belle had a new little boat for the bath among other little goods. When finished, I was left to try and clear everything up, while Kate went downstairs with the girls to make a cup of tea and let Lupo out.

After the excitement of seeing that Santa had eaten his mince pie and drunk his brandy and the reindeer had eaten its carrots, Breakfast began. Pancakes were cooked (by Kate of course) and I helped put golden syrup faces and lemon on the girl’s pancakes, much to their delight. We were just about to start when Libby piped up, ‘Daddy Can I have sprinkles on mine?’ I saw Kate frown and laughed, ‘Of course sweetie.’ to which she promptly groaned, ‘Will it’s breakfast time, you’ll get them into bad habits.’

‘Oh it’s Christmas! One time okay girls?’

They nodded, grinning happily and I fetched the sprinkles, pouring them on the girls and then on Kate’s. She grinned and chuckled and we all began to eat.

—————————————————————————————-

‘You look beautiful’ I remarked as I left the bathroom to see my wife putting in the earrings I gave her for her 30th birthday. ‘Thank you’ she murmured quietly while I wandered over to her and wrapped my arms around her waist. She sighed contentdly.

‘Did you ever imagine how happy we’d all be a couple of years ago? Not that we weren’t happy, but having the girls makes me feel so complete.’ I nodded. There were no words needed between us. I swivelled her around and gave her a kiss that lingered slightly. She smiled and rested her head on my chest and I rested my head on hers. ‘Happy Christmas darling.’ I whispered and she smiled as I kissed her forehead. We stayed like that in our own world like we used to before children who needed your attention constantly came along. To prove my point, we promptly heard a crash upstairs and a muffled cry of ‘Libby Go Away!’ Chuckling, We broke apart reluctantly and Kate left to go upstairs and calm them down while I put on my suit.

———————————————————————————————-

‘Oh I wish it could be Christmas everydayyyyy!’ We all sang loudly as we drove the short distance from Amner Hall to Sandringham were we would spend most of the rest of the day. Kate’s parents, sister and brother with their families were coming down this evening to spend the following day with us. Pulling up, we were met by an excited Isla and Savannah, my Cousin Peter’s daughters who were only a few years older than mine. ‘Merry Christmas!’ they yelled and hugs and kisses were given all round before we were dragged inside to greet everyone else.

‘Uncle Harry!’ Came an excited shout further up the corridor as we walked through. I smiled as a familiar mop of red hair jumped out and began hugging the girls, making them laugh with his cheekiness already. Straightening up eventually, he hugged Kate and myself and walked the rest of the way into the enormous greeting room where the rest of my relatives were. Almost as if the spell of the older generation had hit, the girls fell silent and hung back. Belle clinging on to Kate’s skirt for support. Kate shot me a look and I smiled. It was almost the only time the girls were silent.

———————————————————————————————-

‘Can you hold Belle please Will?’ Kate asked me. Belle, being a lot shier than Libby didn’t like to interact with the public unless she was being held by either Kate or myself. I nodded and picked her up. Libby was holding hands with my cousin Louise and chatting away to her in front of us. I smiled watching them. It was really very sweet. In a moment of spontaneity, I took Kate’s hand in my spare one, prompting a hidden smile from her. We hardly ever showed PDA in public, but Christmas with my family had put me in a good mood and I wanted to show the public that even after two children, I still loved Kate more than ever, if not more.

‘Hello! It’s lovely to meet you! I hope you’re having a wonderful Christmas.’ I said to two old women. ‘Lovely to meet you too dear, thank you very much! Isn’t she sweet? Takes after her father!’ They cried, cooing at Belle, who was curled up into my shoulder. I laughed and thanked them before moving on. Further ahead, Kate and Libby were now meeting people. Libby had been confident, charming and chatty or so I was told by many people I met after she had moved on. I had never felt so proud. At long last, we reached the church. I met up with Kate and praised Libby, who smiled bashfully. Kate and I exchanged a proud look and we entered the church.

‘Daddy I’m bored,’ whispered Belle. I grimaced. This was the 5th time I had been told so and we’d only been here half an hour. ‘Not long Belle’ I replied and she groaned, wriggling about in her seat. ‘Shhh Belle’ Whispered Kate. ‘But Mummy I’m bored!’ Belle hissed again. Kate groaned and rummaged in her bag for a colouring book. ‘Here you go.’ She said and handed it over. Belle was satisfied and began to carefully colour a turtle pink and purple. However it wasn’t long before Libby decided she was bored too and asked to colour in too. ‘No. I’m colouring!’ Belle replied grumpily. ‘Come on you’ve been colouring in for agesss! Mummy please can I colour in?’

‘Shh. Libby aren’t you too old to colour in?’

‘No mummy!’

‘Oh all right. Belle darling can you share? I only brought one.’

‘No.’

‘darling come on and share.’ I said, stepping in to help Kate.

Belle turned around and glared at me, but gave in when I gave her my ‘cross daddy’ look. Soon enough, the two of them were colouring in a blue elephant.

———————————————————————————————-

‘Can I have five potatoes please?’ Libby asked. We were sat at the enormous table at Sandringham for Christmas Lunch. I noted how the table had just kept getting bigger in the last few years.

‘No Libby, you’ll only be having two for now.’ I told her firmly.

‘Oh Daddy its Christmas!’

‘Yes Libby I know, but were at your great-grandmother’s house and you behave okay?’

‘Okay..’ She replied sullenly and I smiled, remembering all the times I had done that as a boy. For a moment, the strong urge to see my mother swept over me. She would have loved the girls and they would have loved her even more. It was my wedding day and the birth of Libby and Belle that had been the best and worst moments of my life since she had gone. The fact I couldn’t look across at her for reassurance or ask her for parenting advice was tough, but I knew she was watching down on us and smiling. I snapped out of my reverie to see Kate watching me from across the table with a slight look that only I understood. Once satisfied I was okay, she smiled a loving smile and turned back to Zara to continue with her chatter.

Lunch passed and many a joke and laugh was held as the day lengthened out. After the many courses and continual chatter, plus the excited voices of the children as they ran around with the dogs between courses, it was decided that a walk would be good for all who wanted to go. Catherine and I helped the girls into their coats and wellington boots before setting off with the rest of the younger half of the family. The girls rushed ahead, leaving Kate and I at the back, hands entwined and huddled close for warmth.

‘Were you okay at lunch?’ She asked suddenly, interrupting the contented silence hanging in the frozen air.

‘Yeah. I was just thinking about Mum.’ She squeezed my hand tighter in support

‘She watching us. And she’s proud of you and the girls.’

‘And you.’ I corrected and she chuckled.

‘Exactly. Proud of all of us. She wouldn’t want you to be sad Will. I know Christmas is tough but just cherish all the happy memories with her and make happy ones for all of us in the future.’ I smiled and kissed her forehead. She knew exactly how to make me feel better, that was why I was so lucky to have her and my beautiful angels.

#mrandmrswales #cambridge fanfiction #royal fanfiction #kate middleton

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swanqueeneverafter · 4 years ago

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Sins of the Past Pt.25

Wonderland. Town Square. (Lizard and Will walk together down the busy streets.) Lizard: “Why risk your life going back for Ella? I mean, you promised you'd help her find answers and now she has them. And how does she thank you? She jumped on a dragon and hightailed it out of Wonderland.” Will: “You've got a point there.” Lizard: “I'm just saying you've been through a lot, fulfilled all your obligations. Don't you think you deserve a little ‘Knave time’?” Will: “Well I could use a chance to catch me breath.” Lizard: “Exactly.” Will: “If it weren’t for the fact that Ella’s probably on her way back to kill whomever it was that killed her mother! So why don’t you tell me where you found this Oracle and what she looks like?” Lizard: “Okay, calm down. The Oracle found me.” Will: “What, she came to your house?” Lizard: “Yeah, I had just come home to grab a quick shower when there was a knock at my door.” Will: “And she told you she had the answer to Ella’s quest?” Lizard: “No... I’m not exactly certain how it happened come to think of it, but I took Ella to see the Oracle, sure.” Will: “All right, so what did she look like, this Oracle?” Lizard: “Tall, blonde - your basic nightmare. She wore this red dress with silver trim and her eyes glowed like nothing I’d ever seen before.” Idirsholas. (Morgause walks behind tall cobwebbed figures in the chamber of an empty old castle and lights a fire in the middle of the circle of figures. Positioning herself above the Cup of Life, Morgause slices her arm, allowing the blood to trickle down into the Cup. Raising it high with both hands, she begins to chant.) Morgause: “Cnihtas Medhires, éower sáwla sind min sáwla. Onwác and cóm hér eft. Rid eft ond forsliehð eft!” (The stone figures begin to move.)

Storybrooke. Will & Tiana's Apartment. (Ella stands whisking eggs absentmindedly, staring off into space.) Tiana: “Okay, I don't mean to micromanage you, but...” Ella: "What? (Sees Tiana take the pot next to Ella off the boil:) Ooh. Thanks.” Tiana: “Mm-hmm. Let me guess. Writer boy's on your mind, not baking.” Ella: “I’m sorry, I’ve got a lot going on.” Tiana: “I know you do, which is why I was surprised when you turned up here offering to help with dessert.” Ella: “I just needed to get out of the house, you know?” Tiana: “Sure. Any word from Henry?” Ella: “No, nothing yet, but the plan was simple enough. Switch the tiara’s and let the truth come out.” Tiana: “So I guess that’s not what’s bothering you?” Ella: (Sighs:) “I found out something back in Wonderland, something bad.” Tiana: “Ruh roh.” Ella: “And I keep going back and forth on whether to believe it’s true or not. What would you do if someone you thought you knew did something unforgivable?” Tiana: “Okay, Miss non-specific, how bad of a thing are we talking?” Ella: (Shakes her head:) “I can’t say, at least not yet.” Tiana: “Hm. Well, if it were me, I’d confront this person. I’d hear their side of things and if I didn’t like what they had to say, I’d chop off one of their favourite body parts, (Puts her arm around Ella, making her smile:) deep fry it and serve it to them. But you know, that’s just me.” Ella: “Yeah.” Tiana: “Hey, whatever it is, you’ve got to face it head on. You know, like an adult. No more games. Life’s too damn short for games.” (Ella nods, watching Tiana retrieve more eggs from the fridge, still unsure what she intends to do.) Swan-Mills House. Kitchen. (A montage of cooking scenes. Emma chopping and slicing, Zelena stirring and tasting, Regina stuffing and cooking. The counters are covered with flour, cooking utensils and baking trays. When Emma tosses an egg to Regina, she effortlessly catches it and cracks it into a bowl. Everyone works in harmony with each other, until Emma's phone rings.) Emma: "Hello? Yeah, I'll be right there. That was David, he's over at the campsite, there are a few drunken stragglers giving him some trouble, I better go help him out." (After leaning over the counter to kiss Regina on the cheek, Emma leaves the kitchen.)

Hallway. (Brushing flour off her jeans, Emma heads towards the front door when Regina calls out to her.) Regina: "Hey." Emma: (Turns:) "Hey." Regina: "Seems our plans for retirement are going to have to be put off for a little while, huh?" Emma: "Yeah, I guess. But Lily's tough, she'll bounce back quickly." Regina: "Hm. Speaking of bouncing back, you just make sure you're back by curtain time, all right?" Emma: "Are you kidding? 'Gina, I wouldn't miss this for the world." Regina: (Smiles:) "Well you better not. I don't care how many people are there tonight when I'm performing, as far as I'm concerned I'm dancing for an audience of one." Emma: "I will be there, front row center. I promise." (They kiss.) Regina: "Good. Now go round up those drunks." Emma: "Will do, Superstar." Arendelle. (Lily is laying on her side on the bed when Elsa enters. Standing over her, Elsa tenderly strokes Lily's hair which brings her out of her reverie.) Elsa: "Are you okay?" Lily: "I'll live. (Pats the bed beside her:) Come lay with me awhile." (Elsa nods and crawls up the bed towards her. Nestling in behind Lily, Elsa places a protective arm around her waist and Lily takes Elsa's hand, lacing their fingers together.) Camelot. Morgana's Chambers. (Morgana enters her room and finds her window open and a little box on her window ledge. She opens it and reads the note placed inside, her hands obscuring pieces of the message.)

“My dearest Morgana, Meet me tonight after sundown in …outside the castle gates. I will…the marked and distinctive… Until then, keep…”

Guinevere: (Standing behind her:) “Are you all right?” (Morgana crumples the note and turns to face Guinevere.) Morgana: “Yes, just a little cold.” Guinevere: “Do you need something warmer?” Morgana: (Smiles:) “No, thank you.” Guinevere: (Watches Morgana close the window:) “I’d like you to join me in the council chamber, if you’re feeling up to it?” Morgana: “Of course.” Council Chamber. (With several courtiers, knights and Xena and Gabrielle gathered, a man with a heavy bag over his shoulder stands before the Queen.) Joseph: “I’m a herder from the northern plains, Your Majesty. We were camped beneath the walls of Idirsholas.” Guinevere: “I’m not sure I would’ve chosen such a place.” Joseph: “Good pasture is scarce at this time of year, Your Majesty.” Guinevere: “And what is it you have to tell me?” Joseph: “While we were there we, we saw smoke rising from the citadel.” (Guinevere glances at Lancelot who looks unnerved by this.) Lancelot: “And did you see anything else?” Joseph: “No.” Guinevere: “Did you go inside?” Joseph: “No. Nobody has stepped over that threshold for three hundred years! You must know the legend, Your Majesty.” Morgana: “When the fires of Idirsholas burn, the knights of Medhir will ride again.” (Guinevere stares at Morgana for a moment then addresses one of the knights.) Guinevere: “See to it this man is fed and has a bed for the night. Take a ride out there.” Morgana: “No. (Corrects herself:) I mean, why do such a thing?” Guinevere: “So we can put people’s minds at rest.” Morgana: “Surely this is superstitious nonsense?” Guinevere: “If our experiences with dark magic has taught us anything, it’s that anything is possible. (To Lancelot:) Gather the guard.” (Lancelot nods and leaves. Guinevere stands and the courtiers begin to disperse leaving only Xena, Gabrielle and Morgana that remain.) Gabrielle: “Why is Lancelot so worried?” Guinevere: “Because the Knights of Medhir are a force to be reckoned with.” Morgana: (Cutting in:) “Don’t tell me you believe the story as well?” Guinevere: “It’s more than a story, Morgana. Some three hundred years ago, seven of Camelot’s knights were seduced by a sorcerer’s call. One by one, they succumbed to her power. At her command, they became a terrifying and brutal force that rode through the lands leaving death and destruction in their wake.” Xena: “What happened?” Guinevere: “It was only after the sorceress herself was killed that the Knights of Medhir finally grew still. Xena, if what Joseph says is true, then something has awoken them, and I fear for each and every one of us.” Gabrielle: “Don’t worry, your highness, Xena and I will ride out with Lancelot and the others.” Guinevere: “Thank you.” (Guinevere leaves the room. Before Morgana can follow her, Xena draws her sword and blocks Morgana’s path.) Xena: “A sorceress huh? Now who do we know that fits that description?” Morgana: “You cannot detain me like this! Move out of my way.” Xena: “You may have Guinevere fooled, but not me. If I find out you or any member of your family is behind this, I won’t hesitate.” Morgana: “My sister’s actions are her own. They’re nothing to do with me.” Xena: “Right.” (Xena re-sheathes her sword, allowing Morgana to pass and leave the room. Sharing a knowing look, Xena and Gabrielle hurry from the chamber to catch up with Lancelot.)

Storybrooke. Woods. (Walking through the woods together, Emma and David search for any troublemakers still making camp in the forest.) Emma: "You'd have thought with Guinevere back on the throne the people of Camelot would want to be there for her coronation. Or re-coronation, if that's a thing." David: "Once is usually enough for a coronation, but Camelot always has done things differently. As far as Guinevere's concerned, no ruler is universally liked, maybe people were looking for an excuse to leave and the recent upheaval was their chance?" Emma: "Maybe, but I doubt camping in the forest is a much better alternative." David: "Well, we've combed every part of this area. Want to meet up with Robin Hood and his men, see if they've noticed anyone?" Emma: "Sure, why not. Just as long as we're back before dark." David: "Oh that's right, Regina's performing tonight. That reminds me, Snow asked if it would be appropriate for us to bring Neal to the show?" Emma: "Is it ever okay to bring a minor into a bar?" David: (Chuckles:) "I think you can trust us not to give him any alcoholic beverages. He's bad enough with sugar." Emma: "I mean, I don't have a problem with it. I just don't think my brother needs to be there to see me throw my panties onstage during Regina's performance. But it's your call." (Emma keeps walking while David stands stock still, trying to shake that mental image out of his head.) Kingdom of Valencia. Hall of Ceremonies. (In what has turned out to be a busy day for Geoffrey of Monmouth, the hall is filled with onlookers as Catrina's coronation is about to take place.) Geoffrey: “We are gathered here to bear witness to the naming of Queen Catrina as the rightful heir to Valencia. (Turns to her:) Are you willing to take the oath?” Catrina: (While Gareth looks on smitten, still wearing the amulet, Catrina picks up the tiara from the ceremonial cushion and places it on her head:) “I am.” Geoffrey: “Do you solemnly swear to govern the people of Valencia, to uphold the laws and customs of the land?” Catrina: “I…do.” (Scratches her arm.) Geoffrey: “Will you, to your power cause law and justice in mercy to be executed in all your judgments?” Catrina: (Continues scratching:) “I will.” Geoffrey: “Will you, to the utmost of your powers… (Catrina checks her arm and sees troll skin:) …maintain the laws…” Catrina: “Yes, yes.”

Geoffrey: “I’m sorry, you-you must let me finish. The wording must be exactly right to be binding.” Catrina: “Well, get on with it then. I mean, really, where did you dig up this old crone from?” Gareth: “She’s right. Get on with it.” Geoffrey: “Will you, to the utmost of your powers…” Catrina: (Scratching even more:) “Yes, yes.” Geoffrey: “…maintain the laws and customs…” Catrina: “I will, I will.” Geoffrey: “…of the land, and serve the people of Valencia?” Catrina: “Yes! Just shut up and get out of my way!” (The court gasps while Catrina runs out of the Hall of Ceremonies.) Gareth: “Catrina!” Corridor. (Gareth follows her into the corridor followed shortly by Roberta, Richard and Henry. Catrina tries to find a way to escape.) Gareth: “Catrina!” (Guards point him toward the throne room.) Camelot. Upper Corridor. (Morgana sneaks through the castle and peeks around the corner at some guards. She descends to the burial vaults, sets fire to some brush and places it in a notch in the wall to create smoke in the corridor above. The guards investigate, leaving the corridor empty. Pleased that her plan worked, Morgana continues along the corridor undetected.)

Kingdom of Valencia. Throne Room. Gareth: “Catrina!” (Richard and Henry close the doors so Catrina can’t escape.) Gareth: “Whatever’s the matter?” Catrina: “I’m sorry… (Hides troll arm:) I don’t know what came over me. I, I just suddenly felt so hot. I, do you know, I think I need to be on my own, alright?” Roberta: (Innocently:) “Are you alright?” Catrina: “Yes, yes, I’m, I’m fine. Really, thank you. I just… (Richard locks the door:) Oh come on. Come on. (Her voice rough and raspy:) Open!” Gareth: “Let me. (Gareth sees Catrina’s troll arm and backs away:) What’s that?” (Catrina begins to transform.) Roberta: (Dryly:) “Oh my, what’s happening?" (Catrina completely transforms into a hideous creature.) Richard: (Pointing:) “You’re a troll!” (The Troll gasps and Gareth’s reverie is broken.) Gareth: “How dare you speak about her like that!” Richard: “What is wrong with you? Look at the state of her!” Henry: “I don’t believe it.” (The troll rips open the door and exits with a snarl.) Richard: “She just ripped a door off its hinges. Doesn’t that tell you something?” Gareth: “Enough!” Richard: “She’s a troll! A giant…grey…” Henry: “Stinking.” Richard: “Stinking troll!” Gareth: “Stop it! Haven’t you hurt her feelings enough? Insult Catrina again, it’ll be the last thing you ever do.” (Richard, Roberta and Henry stare slack-jawed at Gareth as he picks up Catrina’s shoes and exits.) Gareth’s Chambers. (Gareth follows Catrina to his chambers, before he can enter however, Roberta catches up with him and snatches the amulet from around his neck.) Roberta: “I’ll take that, thank you.” (Roberta shoves Gareth through the door. No longer under the amulet’s control, Gareth stares at the Troll for the first time.) Gareth: “Catrina? What kind of trickery is this?” Troll: “How I’ve suffered these last few days. Allowing you to touch me! Having to share a bed with you!” Gareth: “Ugh.” Troll: “It’s repulsive.” Gareth: “I know the feeling.” Troll: “Ooh, I’ve been looking forward to this.” Gareth: (Feeling nauseous:) “Guards! Seize…it!” (The Troll throws Gareth aside then fights off Richard and the guards. Jonas arrives and goes for Henry, but Henry runs him through. The Troll attacks Roberta but Richard literally pulls the rug out from under the Troll; she lands on her back and, recovering, Gareth takes his sword and finally runs her through.) Storybrooke. Forest. (Still searching in the woods, Emma stops for a moment to answer her phone.) Emma: (To David:) "It's Regina. (Answers:) Hey, babe. (Looks at her phone:) Huh, that's odd. (Phone beeps:) She left me a video message." Regina: (Via message:) "Hi, sweetie. I hope you've had a wonderful day tracking down troublemakers, but as you can see by the view behind me, the sun is setting. Which means it will soon be dark and time for my performance. Now while you did promise me you'd be there and I trust you with all of my heart, just in case you're stuck at the station I wanted to give you a little preview in the hopes it might... focus your mind on what's important." (David watches Emma while she watches Regina's message. Noticing her cheeks get redder and her jaw drop, he takes pity on his daughter.) David: "All right, no need to say anything, just go and I'll finish up here." Emma: (Tearing herself away from her phone screen, smiles at him:) "Thanks, Dad." (Without another word, Emma waves her hand and vanishes in a cloud of smoke.) Camelot. Woods. Sundown. (Morgana rushes toward Morgause who waits for her in the forest.) Morgause: “Where have you been?” Morgana: “I am watched closer than ever in the castle. The Warrior Princess does not trust me.” Morgause: “Do not worry. The Knights of Medhir have been awakened and are under my command.” Morgana: “Then it is time?” Morgause: “The knights are mighty, but they cannot bring down the city on their own. You, too, must play your part.” Morgana: “Tell me what I must do.” (Morgause holds out a staff.) Morgause: “It’s carved from the Rowan tree that grows at the very heart of the Isle of the Blessed. Only the High Priestesses and their Bloodguard have ever set eyes on it.” Morgana: “My magic is... do you believe I have the strength to wield such an instrument?” Morgause: “Do not worry. The staff will guide you. It carries its own power.” Morgana: (Takes the staff:) “I will not fail you.”

#sq #swanqueen #swan queen

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weareallfallengods · 5 years ago

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Flight from Grace Chapter 1 - A small stumble

The long-awaited complete 1st chapter of my WIP novel! I started this over 6 months ago and I’m finally getting into the swing of it.

Synopsis: What happens when a Fallen Angel with no memory of her own eternal past meets a woman who can see her for who she really is? A head on collision between the world as we know it and an eternal battle between the immortals tasked with safeguarding the mortal realm.

Grace can see things she shouldn’t be able to; after all, immortals have gone to a lot of trouble to make sure we can’t see them as they really are, so Something Has Changed, and she and her Fallen Angel will find out what’s going on, and why they seem to always be stuck in the middle of it all.

Themes: Angels and Demons, examination of mortality and our understanding of and belief in the supernatural as well as the eternal nature of existence. The battle between good and evil, and how no one is ever what they seem to be when we look past prejudices and social judgements. LGBTQ+, proper ethnic and cultural representation (read: most characters aren’t straight or white!).

Triggers: If you don’t like stories that put an often irreverant and sacriligeous spin on Christian mythos, this isn’t for you. LGBTQ+ romance, slow burn, non-explicit.

===================================================

“Did it hurt when you fell from Heaven?”

Some neanderthal interrupted my deep contemplation of the double whiskey sour in front of me. Which was very rude. Whiskey sours demand your undivided attention and get cranky if ignored for too long. He should have known that, but either he didn’t know or didnt care, so either way- neanderthal.

He was leaning on the bar with the casual air of someone who has done this same dance too many times, the practiced ease of a used car salesman slapping the roof of a car. At least this one’s breath wasn’t too foul. Not that this hadn’t happened before. Oh no, I’d never been badly hit on in this bar like ten thousand times already. No that never happened. I was able to just sit in peace with my drink for the entire night. Yeah, right. Why do I keep coming back then, you ask? Well, Grace makes one hell of a whiskey sour for one thing.

“Hey, did you hear me?”

Ugh, this one wasn't going away with simply being ignored. Lovely.

“Excuse me?” I looked over languidly, with as much disdainful irritation on my face as I could possibly muster from the depths of my three-drinks-in soul.

“I said, ‘did it hurt when you fell from heaven?’”

His stupid shit-eating leer didnt help my mood any. I wasn’t ever in a good mood if I showed up here, and that’s probably one of the reasons I kept coming back- assholes like this gave me a vent for my foul mood.

“No actually. It’s less of a fall and more of a stumble really. More like getting tossed out of a club by a bouncer than falling down the stairs. Couple of bruises, a minor scrape, more damaged pride than anything really.”

I could see his monkey-brain churning slowly to try and digest my response that didn’t fit his pre-programmed scenario. I half expected to see steam coming out of an ear. God, some men are just so... ew.

“Um, what?”

Apparently I broke him. Well, that happens sometimes, when I give someone a response they weren’t expecting. Which happens more often than I’d be willing to admit to myself.

“I said that getting tossed out of heaven doesn’t hurt as much as you’d think it would. It’s not that far of a tumble really.”

He chuckled, “That’s real cute darlin’, never heard that one before! How’s about you and me find a table so I can hear more about it? Maybe have a look at those bruises, make sure you don't need more…attention.”

Sweet Mother of Mikhail, that was bad. Like even worse than his initial pickup line. I almost had to respect his commitment to such a shitty way of trying to pick me up. He had some balls, that’s for sure, either from drunken stupidity or pure ignorant self-confidence. They say that bravery and stupidity go hand in hand, and here was their shining example.

“Believe me sweetie, you don’t want my 'attention’,” I said softly, for the first time raising my eyes to lock with his glazed gaze. “My attention can become very… uncomfortable.”

He started to smirk for just a split second, but when my eyes met his, both the smirk and the color melted from his face. His mouth hung slack as he felt his soul staring down the opening fiery abyss that he found reflected in my eyes. I watched his mind recoil in horror at the emptiness it saw as it tried futilely to pull back from the horror of empty infinity it was confronted with. I saw in his eyes the sudden awareness of how small and insignificant his place in the universe was, and shrink in horror, trying to flee internally only to find that there’s no escape from your own mind and the finality of human existence.

I looked away just as his eyes started to roll back in his head. No need to cause a scene with him passing out. After all, my whiskey sour was crying from being ignored. As they do.

“I think you should probably go home now Blake,” I demurred softly. “You’ve probably had enough, and your wife would be happy if you tucked the children into bed for once. Oh, and coffee won’t remove the smell of alcohol, so just have a peppermint. Your kids like that smell, reminds them of Christmas.”

He kind of half nodded, like a sleepwalker. I sighed. Hopefully he doesn't have an existential crisis later and just shrugs it off as being too drunk. Hell, maybe he’ll cut back on the sauce. I hate it when I hear about someone offing themselves after meeting me, especially if they have kids. Well, hopefully he just takes the daily inebriation down a notch or two. I can hope, can’t I?

As he shuffled off, lager forgotten at the bar, I hoped he’d be alright. Genuinely. Sure, I enjoyed taking my frustration at being stuck here out on them, but I didn't actually wish them lasting harm. A lesson or two in politeness and decency, a minor scuffle to break up the monotony, but no real damage. That’s what I told myself anyway. Made it easier to pretend to sleep at night. Hope he makes it home ok. Hope his kids get a happy memory of daddy saying goodnight for once. Hope he says he loves his wife, and apologizes. Hah. Yeah. Like that’ll happen. But, what can I say, I’m a foolish optimist at heart. And nothing hurts more than having your hopes crushed. I should know.

Damn. My drink was crying, a small puddle of condensation soaking into the bar napkin it rested on. Again. Another sigh. And one more for the first sigh. I hate sighing. It’s the most comprehensive sound of the acceptance of defeat ever created. The acknowledgment of futility. And I hate that. I thought I’d be fighting to the bitter end, but apparently Destiny had other plans. Fucking Destiny. She’s the whole reason I’m even drinking in the first place.

“Get you a fresh one?”

A sweet silver-bell tinkle of a voice broke my unintentional reverie. Grace was back, checking on me. She knew my peccadilloes by now. She knew how much I hated when my drink got watered down by the ice melting if it got ignored for too long. I nodded.

She smiled pleasantly and slid over a new drink, already prepped.

“I figured, after that creep pounced on ya.”

I frowned slightly. There was something different about this one. Hunh. Oh, the ice. There wasn’t any. There were two black cubes sitting in it instead. OK, why are there rocks in my drink?

I looked up at Grace, still slightly puzzled.

“Oh those? Yeah I noticed you didn’t like it when your drink gets watered down, so I bought some Irish whiskey stones! That way your drink stays cold, but doesn't dilute. Got 'em special, just for you.”

I cocked one eyebrow slightly, “Just for me?”

“Yep! Let’s face it, you’re the only one who comes in here with that kind of class, so I put 'em in the freezer back here with a big 'ol note so Jimmy doesn’t think I’m crazy for keeping rocks in the fridge,” her airy chuckle sprinkled across my ears.

I stared. I was in shock. OK, well maybe I’m being dramatic, but I was still surprised. People don’t normally do nice things for me. Or to me for that matter. If I’m honest, they mostly run away.

“Why…” I couldn't even formulate a coherent sentence. Jesus, get yourself together!

“I dunno, I just figured you don't seem like you have anyone looking out for you, and you seem to attract a lot of the wrong sort of attention, so I thought you could use a nice surprise, y’know, cheer you up a little.”

I nodded, more in surprise than agreement. I literally couldn’t recall the last time someone voluntarily tried to do something nice, just for me, no hope or expectation of reward or compensation. I was probably silent a little too long for a comfortable conversation. Hey, I was revelling in the new experience, cut me some slack.

“Well. Wow, um, thanks.” Yeah real smooth. Sweet Mikhail’s Grave I have no idea how to actually talk to this woman.

In retrospect, that should have been my first clue, but hey, I was a little distracted.

“I appreciate it, that’s really sweet of you.” Ok that’s slightly less glaringly awkward.

“Not trying to be rude at all, but I gotta ask- what’s your deal? Like you come in here all the time, lookin’ like a million bucks, never talk to anyone, get in fights every so often, get harassed like every single time but you keep coming back? I mean, I’m not trying to pry if you don’t wanna talk, but you know, like I’m totally trying to pry!”

Now it was my turn to stare slack-jawed. Oh Fates, how your twists are cruel. I closed my mouth a lot faster than the sot from earlier though, so my pride wasn't too damaged.

“It’s kind of a long and uninteresting story really. Mostly, you make the best whiskey sour. And the people here are…interesting.”

“Honey, there’s no way a story coming from someone who looks like that,” she waved generally up and down at me, “could possibly be boring. Plus, it’s slow, as always, so humor me.”

Sometimes, I can be kind of thick. Slow. Moronic. A nincompoop. A maroon. Several minutes of conversation with this girl and I only just now noticed- she hadn’t looked away from my eyes. She was meeting my gaze with no problem. She wasn't sweating and shaking and passing out. She was looking me right in the eye, just like a normal person, no fear showing on her face. No reaction at all. Just a normal girl, having a normal conversation, with what she thought was another normal person.

“Are…you OK?” Grace looked a bit concerned.

Aw shit, I was staring, and not even trying to hide it. Well now I felt dumb. And, why did I feel dumb? What was up with this girl that she made me feel so self conscious, so uncomfortable, like one of those fainting goats that just freezes and falls over when you blink too hard at them. Speaking of blinking really hard.

“Um, oh, yeah, sorry, I’m fine. Really. Sorry, just not many people actually want to have a real conversation with me.”

Grace leaned over the bar a little, propping up on her elbows, lowering her tone a bit. “Well, I don’t know why, 'cuz you sure seem hella interesting to me.”

“Hunh. Well, I don't know about that. But I would like to ask you something first, if you don't mind?”

“Fire away honey!”

“This might sound odd, but, why aren’t you looking away? What do you see when you look at me?”

She pulled a tiny bit closer. “Nothin’ more than just about the sparkly-est green eyes I ever seen; a dash of blue, like the Bahamas. Somethin’ else I can't quite put my finger on…” as she trailed off, I felt her finger lightly brush the knuckles on my hand that was still holding my drink. “I kinda wanna find out though.”

OK, now that was smooth. Holy fuck, that was really, really smooth. Like two hundred year old Laphroaig single malt filtered through the blessed socks of His Holiness the Pope smooth. Hold up, now she was trying to pick me up? What the hell universe? What’s going on here?

I swallowed, unable to look away now myself. “That’s all? Nothing that scares you?”

“Not yet, sugar.”

Alright, that’s different.

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

I grabbed her hand. Maybe a little too hard from the slight wince I saw.

“OK we need to leave. NOW.”

“Hold up honey, we were just talkin’, we ain’t there yet!” She tried pulling back a little.

“No, no, you don’t understand! I’m sorry, but you shouldn’t be able to see that. I can’t explain right now, but we have to figure out how you can see me that way.”

“But my shift’s not over for a couple more hours!”

“OK OK, I’m not being clear, sorry, this is the first time this has happened, so I’m a little shaken.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” She actually blushed a little. “I just saw how you shot down every guy who came up to you, and I thought….well, you know, maybe…omg I’m sorry I didn't mean to upset you! I come on strong sometimes, when I’m interested in something, and when you first walked in, I saw those heels and that dress, and I just was like ‘oh wow’ and kinda couldn’t breathe for a minute, you know I don't see many girls come here lookin’ like that and oh God now I’m babbling and someone please shut me up I'm so sorry…”

I put a finger over her lips, gently.

“I’m not upset. Far from it actually. But we have something a tiny bit more urgent than that to address. I’m not who you think I am. Or what, I should say. But more to the point, there’s something bigger going on here. And I need to find out what. Fast.”

“Wait, so you’re not mad I hit on you?”

“We don’t have time for that now!” She recoiled slightly at my vehemence. “No, I’m not upset, but that’s not the point! You shouldnt be able to see my eyes. My real ones anyway. I was too slow on picking that up right away, and I’m sorry, but we have to get out of here, now, because something is different, and in my world, that’s never a good thing.”

“Your world?”

I was getting frustrated. “Yes, but I’ll explain later! I need you to come with me now. We need answers, and we need them fast. So, do you trust me?”

She hesitated. “Yeeeeees? I think? Like I wanna, but I don’t really know you?”

“Good enough for now! Let’s go!”

To her credit, she just dropped her bar towel, grabbed her phone from under the bar and came out from behind it, grabbing my hand as she yelled to the back, “Hey Jimmy! I gotta leave! Personal thing- cover for me?”

Just then, there was a bit of a commotion at the door. Grace turned to look, but I didn’t need to. I already knew what was there. I just clutched her hand even tighter and yanked her towards the back; there was an emergency exit near the bathrooms from what I remembered of that one really bad 'birthday’. Yeah, that was a bad one. But we ran.

Good thing I’m not super tall, wouldn’t want to draw attention, I thought to myself sarcastically. Goddamn heels. Why do I even wear these?

Sounds of glass breaking and shouting reached us as we plowed through the emergency exit into the alleyway. Don’t worry about that now, just keep moving.

“This way!” I pulled her to the front of the alley.

“Holy shit, that’s your bike?” She sounded genuinely impressed. Finally, I wasn’t the only one who had that reaction at seeing it.

“Oh yeah, she’s a sweet ride, and perfect for this situation. Or any situation, really. Jump on.”

I probably should have shut the door behind us, but hey, it was a day for me missing obvious things. The noise coming from the bar was getting louder.

“I’ve never done this before!” Grace exclaimed excitedly in my ear as I kicked my beast to life.

We roared out into the street, my white and gold Valentino’s left sparkling on the pavement where I kicked them. Fuckin’ useless, beautiful shoes. Sigh, they weren’t cheap. Oh well, they’re just shoes.

“Where are we going!?” Grace yelled over the rush of wind whipping our hair like tiny flails of purgatory.

“Not sure yet! But we’re going to find out!”

“I don't even know your name!”

My heart sank a bit.

“Don't worry! Neither do I! ”

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

The bar exploded behind us as it faded into the night thanks to the fabulous Ducati between our legs. Oh and that wasn’t metaphorical- I glanced in the mirror at the sound; it literally exploded. Ball of fire and all. I guess that’s to be expected, what with all the alcohol and what I’d suspected for a while was going on in the basement. Way too many flammable liquids in one place. But that didn't really matter now. All that mattered was getting away from what caused the explosion as fast as we possibly could.

“What the hell was that!?” Grace yelled in my ear. Again. I’m going to have to get some headsets or something if this is going to be a habit. Well, the riding together part, not the fleeing for our lives part anyway.

“I’ll explain as soon as we can talk, promise! For now, just hold on! And don't look behind us!"

“As if I’m gonna let go now!”

That glance in the rear view told me as much as I needed to know, which was more than I wanted, but enough to have an idea of what we were running from. I mean, I figured that’s what it was, but I’m still tired of being right, even after all this time. You’d think I'd be used to it by now.

That pale blue and red glow was enough. Hell, the noise it made had been enough for me to know what it was. And trust me, I was not overreacting by running first. I’d seen that color a few too many times in my life to think that there was anything else to be done except run. Once was more than enough for anyone. Who am I kidding? Most people don't get a chance to see it more than once. Guess I’m just lucky. Or the opposite. Pretty sure I’m the latter actually.

Grace was shivering on my back as we sped away. She’d gone quiet, her mood matching the night around us, the neon signs and street lights reflecting their multi-colored halos in the rain-slicked streets. Fog was starting to rise from the pavement, adding to the soft glow the streets were taking on. Thin, wispy strands curling around street lights and bus stops, blasted into nothing as the bike tore through them, the roar of the exhaust shattering the relative quiet of the late night calm.

Well, it should have been quiet anyway. The explosion of the bar kind of changed that. Then came the sound.

It mixed with the growing whine from the crotch rocket under us, which seemed like a fitting counterpoint to the cacophony of something that sounded like if you’d thrown a hundred maltese dogs into a tornado and then blasted it over a crappy school intercom. I hated that sound. Almost as much as the dogs it reminded me of.

“Aw shit, it saw us.” Time to see if the tires on this baby gripped as well as the kid at the shop claimed they did.

Well, at least there wasn’t too much traffic. Still, even though there weren’t many trucks and accountant-driven sedans to weave in and out of, there were still enough of them that it took a hell of a lot more concentration than my alcohol soaked brain was ready to deal with. Definitely hadn’t planned on being the next Lewis Hamilton after a night at the bar, that’s for damn sure.

“What the fuu….?” Grace’s expletive trailed off in the whipping wind as I kept us weaving in and out and through, gunning the shit out of my bike whenever there was an opening big enough to do so without turning us into extremely messy, if fashionable, pancakes.

“Try not to worry about it! OK I mean, yeah, worry, but not like understand worry!”

“How the hell do you not worry about...that!?”

I took a good look back for the first time as we whipped around a corner, using the rain-slick street to slide without losing any speed. My heart sank. At least it wasn’t in my throat choking me anymore. Sarcastic positivity in the face of death? Yeah that’s my jam. Even if I do keep it to myself. Most of the time anyway.

The damn thing was getting closer. Faster than I thought it could. Damn, tonight just wasn’t my night for noticing things, now was it?

That second of splitting my attention nearly sent us flying and a tired busboy standing at the corner bus stop to the hospital, but we only just missed him, with barely enough room to avoid slamming into the back end of something that should have been parked at a kids soccer game, not getting on the expressway at this time of night.

Slipping into an alley entrance, Grace’s nails dug through the flimsy material I was wrapped in, making me yelp in surprise.

“Sorry,” she muttered.

I was about to tell her it was cool, considering the circumstances, and given that I wasn’t sure if it made me jump because it hurt, or her hands were cold, or because of where they’d slid down to, when we blew out the other side of the alley, causing a literal postcard explosion from the stand I clipped as we bounced out on to the main road again, just in time to swerve hard to avoid becoming Penske poster-girls for a single truck.

"Sweet Jesus fuck! What the hell IS that?"

Goddammit, didn’t I tell her not to look back? I wasn’t going to tell her how the beast chasing us had seen us dart down the alley, and since it couldn't fit through the traffic as neatly as we could, silently charge down the side of the building, slamming into the same shop front that had so recently lost it's postcard stand as it tried to take the same corner, still snuffling the ground and air to track us. I managed to gain us a few precious seconds of lead as it disentangled itself from the fruit cart, re-launching itself down the alley, bicycle wheel still caught in it's whiskers that streamed and whipped behind it.

“It’s running fucking sideways on the buildings!”

Aw shit. She can see it. I was afraid of that.

And that was all the distraction it needed too.

With a last spring off the corner of an empty flower shop, the beast took a massive swipe at us. Come on, come on, make the corner! It's thick talons cut a blazing arc through the rain as it howled. One of its claws caught the rear end of the bike, knocking it heavily to the side, and nearly throwing Grace off. Good thing she’s got a death grip on my hips right now. Oh boy don’t think of that, too distracting right now, that’s how you get killed!

Grace screamed again as the bike was whipped around violently from behind, and Grace she was confronted with a vision not even her wildest nightmares could have come up with. At least, I hope she doesn’t have nightmares like this anymore.

The beast’s jaws opened wide to crush us like a nutcracker on adderall, glowing drool whipping around in thick, viscous strands from teeth bigger than my hand, while she seemed mesmerized by the halo of tentacle-like whiskers that seemed to float in slow motion, despite how fast everything was happening. The beast looked at me, it’s eyes burning red meeting mine as I tried to maintain my grip on the bike that was rapidly being torn from my hands. I was holding on to that tank with my knees in a way that would have made the Russian Women’s weightlifting team proud. I could hear the scream that tried to jump from Grace’s mouth only for it to turn into a slow rush of soundless breath as she slammed into my back from the force of me yanking that bike around as hard as I could possibly manage.

Ground. Street. Tires on. People off. Stay upright. Don’t let go. Run.

The bellow from the beast behind us meant nothing to me now. I was numb, my world narrowing to the few feet in front of me, and Grace behind me. Swerve. Dodge. Car. Bike. Red light. Faster. Green. Faster. Faster. Get away. Car. Car. Bus. Turn.

Suddenly the cars all dropped away. The turnpike. Oh thank God. I opened up the throttle all the way and finally realized I should probably start breathing again.

Grace was trying to yell something, probably wanting an explanation. I mean I can’t blame her, but I said I’d explain! Did it look like now was suddenly the time for it? Then again, maybe it was important.

I turned my head a bit to try to talk to her, but I paused with my mouth still open. The beast was gone.Like gone gone. Vanished. Vamoosed. Not even like really far away gone, just not there any more. I squinted. Yeah, that was a little too easy.

“Did we get away?”

I was actually about to answer her, when a glowing blue shape cashed into us from the side, just as I was starting to finally let my legs relax a little. Everything seemed to slow down. I know, everyone says that, but it’s true! I don’t know, maybe it was the whiskey sours, but as soon as we got hit, the world turned in to super slow-mo as the bike was ripped from my hands, and I felt Grace be pulled away from me.

This thing tossed us like a couple of rag dolls thrown from a child’s stroller being kicked by a football player. Or at least it started to go that way. Somehow, as the bike ground across the pavement, with just my left hand managing to keep any kind of hold on the bike, I managed to swing myself around it like a gymnast on a gold-medal winning vault-horse routine, snagged Grace’s bar apron with my free hand, and with sheer desperate strength, yank all three back together, right as the beast’s slavering maw snapped shut on empty air where Grace’s head had been just milliseconds before. Through pure accident of positioning, my toes raked across it’s eyes as my leg swung around and I slammed them back down on the pegs, jammed the throttle all the way open, even as Grace somehow managed to complete the circle I’d pulled her in, ending by straddling my hips, arms and hair akimbo while we slid sideways, fortunately tires first.

Grace’s eyes were wider than a kid who opened their eyes to Disneyland on a Christmas morning as she slammed into me, and I used our momentum to get the bike fully upright, only barely escaping a second snap from the beast as it lunged again, trying to tear us apart.

That near miss, and the sigh of relief I almost let happen, didn’t get a chance to last long.

Her damn hair was in my face, which at any other time, wouldn’t have been a problem, really, but just at that second, was incredibly, blindingly, distracting. And it might have saved our lives.

Something hot burned into my shoulder and face as the sound of crashing metal and people yelling slammed into me. Hm, spicy.

“Shit! Watch out! Sorry!” Grace called to the one lady who wasn’t running for the hills as we smashed through her food cart. Can you get third-degree barbecue sauce burns? Food trays, sauces and meat all went flying as we dervished our way right through the middle of her street-side restaurant, sweet and spicy and sticky all at once, all over the ground, and all over me and Grace as well. I couldn’t think of anything more than just keeping everything together and moving forward. Run. The only thought occupying my mind. Just run.

“Hey.”

The softness of her voice is what brought me back to the girl squished up against me and out of the rabbit-instinct flight mode I was in.

I don’t know why but for some reason, my brain decided that was the perfect moment to notice that I’d never realized how captivating the color brown could be. Grace’s eyes were less than inches from mine, and I froze for a second. Again.

“I think it’s stopped.”

I glanced back. The beast had been right on top of us when we hit the food cart, but now it was standing there in the middle of the sidewalk, sniffing around for all the world like the biggest, dumbest, glowiest dog you’ve ever seen. OK, a dog that could tear a truck apart like a box of tissues, but still.

“What the hell is it doing?”

“Maybe it’s hungry.”

I didn’t realize I’d said that out loud. I’d never seen one of these things just...stop like that. It didn't make sense.

No time to think of that right now, just enough time to dart down another alley, blocking the beast from view as it sat down to lap up all the spilled barbecued beef at its feet.

As we weaved and darted through alleys and parking lots, squeezing through sidewalks and darting across small streets, I started to recognize where we were now, and had the barest inkling of a plan besides ‘get away without dying.’

“Whatever that thing is, I think it likes barbecue.”

Grace’s whispered comment snapped me back to what was right in front of me, the whole reason I was in this kind of mess again in the first place. .

“Hunh?”

“I think it stopped to eat at the barbecue stand we knocked over. It’s not chasing us anymore- look.”

I tried to check the mirror again, only to find they’d both been ripped off by now, so switched to glancing over my shoulder quickly, and saw no ominous glow behind us, other than the few street lamps on the small boulevard we were going down.

“Barbecue?” I was still pretty confused. Probably drunk too. But definitely confused.

Grace’s laugh was carried away on the night like fireworks swept away in a light breeze. “Well, I dunno what the hell that thing was, but I haven’t met anyone yet who wouldn’t drop everything for good barbecue, honey.”

Raising an eyebrow, I laughed, “Well it’s good to see I’m not the only one here who can make wildly ridiculous comments with horrible timing!”

“Funny the things you think about when you should be focusing on other stuff that’s a little more important, hunh? Like right now, all I can think about is a nice rack of ribs.” Grace grew quieter as her head sank back down on to my shoulder. “Where we headed, sugar?”

“Somewhere close. Safe. I think.”

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

The old loft was just as dank and dirty and run down on the inside as it looked on the outside. Probably worse. No diamonds in the rough here, that’s for sure. Broken glass scattered on the beat up industrial floor scattered the glow of the streetlight through the mist that filled the space. Definitely not up to my usual standard, but hey, we couldn’t really complain too much.

Throwing an old, discarded, and probably moldy, but definitely more disgusting than I wanted to ever touch again, mover’s blanket over the plate window helped to at least hide a little bit of how gross this place looked. Plus, privacy. A quick scan around and I found a pile of old tarps and a couple skeezy mattresses that I definitely wasn’t going to think about where they’d been or who’d done what on them for how long. It’d have to do. A dirty mattress was a small price to pay for still being alive.

"It's not the Four Seasons, but it'll do for now. It's kinda cold- I don't think the building even has heat, but I think we can keep warm enough to make it through the rest of tonight at least."

Grace flopped down heavily on the mattress, exhausted, shoulders slumped, staring vacantly at the floor.

"That was...was that...I don't even know where to start. My brain's been turned to oatmeal. What…? What happened? What in the name of all fucks just happened?"

“Yeah, there’s kind of a lot to unpack here isn’t there?” I just crumpled down into one of the old blankets like a sock puppet being dropped into its nest. “I’m not even sure where to begin.”

“Ya think? Like one minute, I’m trying to mind my business, working my shift at the bar, wondering whether I’m going to have to give another statement to the cops after another bar fight breaks out, and the next I’m getting tossed around like a hot sweet-potato, almost get eaten by a glowing, walking catfish that got beaten a little too hard with the ugly stick, get covered in barbecue sauce, do-si-doed by a goddamn motorcycle ninja, only to wind up in some place that looks like it was lifted straight out of Zillow for Crackheads!”

A snort of wry, tired amusement escaped me. “Yeah, I guess it really does look that bad here. I mean, I’m surprised this place is even still standing after all this time, but you’re right, it definitely looks a bit sketchy.”

“Way to avoid the point, hun.”

“Yeah, I know.” Not sure why, but she kept making me nervous, and the way she was sort of frowning while pinning me down with those sparkling coffee eyes definitely wasn’t helping. Probably just wasn’t used to people making eye contact. Which was the whole reason I was in this mess to begin with. Another sigh.

“Alright. I’ll explain as much as I can. You deserve that much.”

Grace flopped down on the edge of the mattress, chin propped in her hands for all the world like a kid during goddamn story time. How the hell was I supposed to concentrate when she’s doing things like that? Look away! Only way to save myself for now.

“OK, here goes. So the thing you saw? Well, it’s a…” I scowled. “It’s a...sunuvabitch, I don’t really know what it’s called. Alright, further back then. The basics. Got it.

“Supernatural things exist. Like you believe that humans are the highest species on this planet and that you’re all alone in the universe, and no one can quite agree on whether there was anything before or after this life or what happens when you die, right? Well, a lot of what most people believe to be myth or religious superstition is actually, um, real.”

So she hasn’t tried to run away just yet. That’s a good sign, right?

“From what I’ve been able to piece together, from the bits I can remember, what you would call ‘heaven’ and ‘hell’ are real places- they’re just not really visible to mortals. Most of the time. ‘Angels’ and ‘demons’ are real things too, but they’re a little bit different than most people tend to think of them from what I’ve seen.

“I don’t know how many there are, but there’s angels and demons walking around, living just like you and me, every day. The thing is, that mortals like you can’t see them. And that’s where the problem is.”

“Like me?” It wasn’t really a question. Her tone made that clear enough.

“Oh boy. OK, here’s the big one- because with the heaven and hell stuff, most people can be like ‘meh, it’s all superstitious nonsense anyway’ and brush it off. This? Not so much.

“I’m not human. Or mortal. I can see angels and demons walking around plain as day, just like the ones I’ve met can see me. Mortals...see something else.”

“Like the creep at the bar earlier? Did he see...something else? In you?”

“Yeah. On the outside, at first glance, I look like any other girl. But look closer? Well, you saw what happened. People just aren’t ready to see my real nature.”

“But that didn’t happen to me.” Now Grace was looking a little bit confused- but the kind of confused you get when a teacher is explaining something that you know should make sense, even if you were having a hard time getting it.

“No, it didn’t. And it took me way too long to pick up on that. I should’ve realized right away. If I had, maybe I could have gotten you out of there faster and that whole ‘sweet potato’ thing wouldn’t have happened.”

“So what should I be seeing? When I look into your eyes I mean?”

“Probably something along the lines of falling through an eternally expanding universe, a sense that you’re tinier than a piece of sand in the scope of the cosmos, that sort of thing. At least, that’s what I’ve heard from a couple of the ones who were able to be slightly coherent afterwards. There haven’t been many of those over the years.”

“Wow. I definitely don’t see that.”

“And that’s the problem, really. I’ve never heard of something like that happening before. I don’t know what it means, or why you can, or anything! All I know is that something is very, very different, and very, very wrong, otherwise that thing wouldn’t have been after us. And right now, I don’t know if what’s wrong is you, or me, or both of us. But we need to find out if we’re going to not be looking over our shoulders for...what did you call it again?”

Grace laughed. A genuine laugh, not weighed down by worry or terror. “A glowing, walking catfish?”

“Ha ha, yeah, that got beaten too many times with the ugly stick!”

Grace sat up suddenly, nodding sharply to herself. “Alright, well, you’re either batshit crazy, or I owe my gran an apology.” Grace was still half chuckling, but looking very intent.

“Your gran?”

“Yeah, she was super religious, always prayin’, talkin’ and singin’ about god. She must’ve gone to church three times a week! Boy, would she have loved to hear all this.”

“I’ll bet!”

“So, I just wanna make sure I’ve got all the stuff you said- angels are real, and something’s wrong with the fact that I can see your real eyes, and not like, the fires of the Big Bang or something, but you don’t know why that’s a problem or what caused it.. Right?”

“I’d say that about covers it for now, yeah.”

“Alright, I can live with that much for now. I’m clean tuckered out, and you look like you’re about to just fall over any second now. Whaddya say we call it a night?”

“Yeah.” I really could barely keep my eyes open at this point. I guess pretending my motorbike was a juggling pin kind of took it out of me.

Grace popped up, suddenly all business.

“So doesn’t look like this place has a big ol’ tub to dump you in, so we’ll have to settle for a couple of wet wipes. Here, help me get these blankets on to the mattress here. They’re gross, but it’s better than freezing to death.”

“You’re the boss!” Those wet wipes were a pocket-sized blessing, wrapped in foil paper. I’m more of a Chanel and gunpowder type, not so big on the earthy, barbecue scents.

I was starting to stumble a bit as we plopped the discarded blankets down as well as we could in the relative darkness of the loft.

“Probably better to stay dressed with how dirty these blankets are.” Grace frowned as she watched me struggle to pick up one of the heavier blankets a couple of times.

That didn’t even register until much later.

“OK, you, lay down. No more for you tonight. Sleep.”

I couldn’t even argue with her. I just curled up in a ball on the bed, barely aware of Grace pulling a couple of the blankets over me, but I thought I could just make out her arm resting on mine as we both drifted off into the heavy, dreamless sleep that comes when you’ve been pushed to your limits. At least, I kind of hope it was.

=============================================

Story tag list

@random-with-garlic @a-dinosaurs-left-phgkneecap @flower-in-the-ashes @nixabee @luvnaught @pens-swords-stuff @alice-and-cheshire-cat @humans-are-seriously-weird @flying-f1shsticks @Neil-gaiman @glumshoe @lykanyouko @kaylewiswrites @just-a-bit-paranoid @thatsmybluefondue @Alice-and-Cheshire-cat @violet-galaxies @biggest-gaidiest-patronuses @midnight-spectrum-again @slytherinlovespuff @friendofcybermen @hemi528i @mirbisduschoen @khelladon @walkin-in-the-cosmos

As always, if you want to be added to or removed from the tag list, just shoot me a message and your wish is my command.

#flight from grace #supernatural #angels #demons #angelic fiction #wip #story #writeblr

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artificialqueens · 5 years ago

Text

And Now, We Wait (Branjie) - SnowBun

A/N: This took two weeks, at least ten cups of coffee, a visit to my best friend I haven’t seen in three years that lives eight hours away, and a fantastic beta (thank you and bless your soul pink-grapefruit-cafe) to write. Sorry to keep everyone waiting for this one since I announced I was writing this WEEKS ago, but it took a lot of planning and visualizing. I hope I do your Branjie dreams justice. If you have anything to message me or want me to write stuff, message me on holymolypestoaioli!! Xoxo

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Break-ups aren’t supposed to be this amicable. Not that he would know. To be honest, he’s really just guessing at this point.

The words and the bright white smile plastered on Jose’s face makes him think it’s not so bad, but then he sees the pain in his eyes. It isn’t like a knife that he plunged straight into his chest. No, it’s more like a flesh-eating disease.

He isn’t sure which one of them starts crying, but he knows he’s the first one to start laughing. His soft chuckle blends with his cackle, a cacophony of sound that paints the taupe hotel walls with miserable irony.

The smile on Jose’s face fades away with the laughter, and he thinks he’s never seen anything more heartbreaking before in his life. It’s all that is good and beautiful in the world, and he’s tearing it apart with his bare hands.

He opens up his arms, and when the shorter man melts into him, he realizes how unfair life is. The tears soaking through his grey t-shirt don’t belong there. The pained, heaving breaths don’t belong there. The only thing that belongs are the arms wrapped around his waist, tight like a corset.

Don’t leave.

He means for the thought to pass, but it lingers in his brain a little too long, just enough to make him wonder if this is the right thing to do. It’s just enough to make him wonder if this is what freedom should feel like.

There’s a final sob and shake to the fragile body with its skin like papers slipped under hotel room doors. He pushes away the thought, stores it in a filing cabinet that he might look at one day.

Jose pulls away from him, and he searches for the disease that dulls the glimmer in the brown eyes he’d started to call home. He hides them well enough for him to let any thoughts of taking it all back fade away.

He places a kiss on his forehead. There are words there, just floating around in the air, but he doesn’t say them. He leaves them there for Jose to find in the morning.

He loves him, he’s sure. He wouldn’t leave him if he didn’t.

December is easy enough to get through.

The number of whispers that she’s on season 11 are proportional to the gigs that she’s offered, and the ache in her chest decreases exponentially. Reducing everything down to simple mathematics makes the time pass by faster.

She’s finishing up a gig in Texas when she meets a man whose skin turns purple under the lights of the bar. When she pushes him against a wall outside the club and smears her lipstick on his mouth, she remembers that his name is Charlie.

The hook-up in her hotel room is so fast that she doesn’t even take off her make-up. She crashes onto the bed, sated and spent, and turns over to watch Charlie throw his legs off the edge. He laces up his shoes and takes a bottle of water out of the fridge.

All of a sudden, she feels too naked. She covers her lower half with the sheets, but she knows that it has nothing to do with skin.

She looks out the wide windows overlooking the city and wonders what the city below sounds like. Does it sound like stumbling out of clubs in Chicago, drunk on kisses and tequila? Does it sound like blaring car horns in New York when the cab can’t get her to a gig fast enough to calm a petite queen’s nerves?

“Hey.”

Charlie’s voice breaks her out of her reverie. As she watches him scribble something on the notepad on the desk, she realizes that he’s really not her type. He’s too tall and clean cut. Not to mention his ass is flat.

She feels nothing when he kisses her goodbye.

The walk from the bed to the desk feels nothing short of mechanical. She takes a seat and looks in the mirror she’s left there. The lack of a wig and the sullied /;/makeup only vaguely remind her of Brooke Lynn. It seems about right because she isn’t sure if she feels like herself anymore.

One wipe after another erases any trace of Charlie from her lips. She watches herself scrub at them, but she doesn’t stop when it starts to sting.

She looks at the notepad and sees that he’s left his number behind. She rips off the piece of paper, balls it up, and throws it in the bin along with the string of numbers she’d encrypted in her head five months ago.

When all the makeup is gone, he goes to the bathroom and lets the shower run for a minute. He thinks he needs a cigarette. Or maybe two. Maybe a pack if he’s really being honest with himself.

He allows the scalding hot water to turn his skin red. The colour doesn’t make him think of flushed chests with cat tattoos after too many shots. He swears it doesn’t.

It’s the last Saturday of 2018 when she decides to call her.

“Hey!”

Her voice is bright, like LA sunshine streaming in through windows over pancakes for breakfast. She tastes the ghost of the sweetness of real maple syrup, none of that weird synthetic stuff, on her tongue when they fall into bed together.

“Hi.”

The word comes out as a shaky, tired sigh. She doesn’t realize how exhausted she is until she hears it. The past month has been nothing but work, and if she’s doing it to distract herself from how lonely she feels, she let it happen anyway.

“How you doing?”

I just smoked a pack of cigarettes because I wanted to breathe in air that doesn’t feel like it belongs to you.

“I’m doing good. You?”

“I got a gig here in Sacramento tonight.”

It’s 2000 miles too far away. She wants to see her, to just look at her to remind herself that she’s real, that those four months of happiness weren’t just a dream that she conjured up to keep herself sane.

As if on cue, she hears someone remind Vanjie that she has half an hour to get ready. She chuckles when she hears her reply with the requisite, “Yeah, yeah, I got it, bitch.” She misses it more than she wants to admit.

“Keep me company while I get ready?”

“Sure.”

She stays quiet, thinks of how she probably looks doing her makeup. The way she scrunches up her nose when she puts on the translucent powder, the way she squints her eyes when doing all the little details, the way she smiles when she thinks the contour is just right.

In contrast to the now blurred lines of her overdrawn lips after a night of performing and making out with trade, she thinks she must look perfect.

“Sooooo,” She drags the word out like a cigarette. “People suspect you’re coming back?”

“Bitch, I don’t gotta say a damn thing, all them hoes already know.”

She shrugs, feels the latex stuck to her shoulders as it shifts against her skin. “Well, no one deserved to come back more than you.”

“Awww, thanks B. Now, don’t make me cry or Imma head over there and whoop your ass.”

The banter is nice, normal, routine. It isn’t the game of pretend she was expecting. It’s friendship, and it’s a good one. She realizes it isn’t so bad after all.

“Shit.” She hears something fall. “Sorry, dropped my palette.”

“Damn, is it okay?”

“Broke an eyeshadow.” There’s a groan and she holds back a bemused laugh. “No worries, you’re going to get me a new one with that Anastasia money anyway.”

“You don’t even know if I’m going to win.”

“Ha!” She says it so loudly that she’s scared that she’ll lose hearing in her right ear. “You kidding me? I know you gonna win.”

She raises a sculpted eyebrow; ignores that she can’t see it on the other end. “What about the Dreamgirls, then?”

“Bitch, those hoes ain’t gonna give me shit if they win.”

The banter goes on, and if either of them remembers that the last time they spoke was when they woke up from drug-induced comas after being addicted to each other, they don’t mention it.

“You’re the only pussy I’ve ever fucked.”

She almost spits out her drink on the vanity. When she’d invited him to come to one of her gigs in LA, she wasn’t expecting him to be so distracting; but she doesn’t complain. He’s welcome to annoy her anytime, if she’s honest.

She spins around, throws a glare at the tiny Puerto Rican man cackling like his jaw has unhinged. His whole body laughs with him, his legs and arms flailing.

The laughter dies down into small chuckles, and she turns back to the mirror. She doesn’t remember putting that much blush onto her cheeks earlier.

The noise coming from the bar outside creeps its way into the dressing room, their safe haven. She wants everyone to shut up, wants everyone to respect how comfortable she is as she sinks into the blend of laughter and silence.

She’s called him every single day over the past two weeks, almost at the exact same time. She wants to be his friend, wants to be everything that she can to him without the commitment she knows she can’t afford. If it’s anything more than a desire for companionship, she overlooks it.

When she hears him humming along to American Boy, she stops begging for the music outside to stop.

She stares at herself in the mirror, all perfect lines and blended edges. She isn’t the best at painting her face, but as she watches the way her cheekbones shine under the fluorescent lights, she convinces herself that she’s damn good at it at the very least.

The material of her literal catsuit feels like a second skin. She looks at him through the mirror, watches as he scrolls through his phone and unconsciously bites his lip, and ignores how much she wants him to peel the layers away.

“Hey,” She turns to him, two lipsticks in her hands. “What color should I do?”

He taps a finger against his chin, and her eyes drift to the lips he’s puckered like he’s sucking on a Sour Patch kid. She’s mesmerized by the way his eyebrows furrow, the way his eyes narrow, the way he can’t stop making him look anywhere but fuck, stop it.

“The red one.”

Of course, he picks the red one. It’s his colour, and she knows it. He owns it, owns the ruby running through her veins, owns the plush velvet her feet rest on in her favourite hotel room, owns the sangria that goes straight to her head on Sundays with friends.

“Thanks.”

She draws his name, his body, his soul onto her lips. She sketches the sharp, precise lines, observes the way they turn into pleas stuck in the back of her throat because she’s too scared to be anything other than free.

“Good?”

He shoots her a smile and a thumbs up, and she wonders why she was expecting more.

There are three different moments where he thinks about refusing Jose’s offer.

The first is in the dressing room, when she takes off her mask and watches in the mirror as the one underneath smiles. He asks her if she wants to keep drinking at his place, laughingly says that it’s drinks and nothing more.

The second is when they’re walking, and all he can feel is the heat of LA, even in January. He sees the orange light of a streetlamp highlight the twinkle of Jose’s eyes in the absence of stars in the sky. He can’t really say no to that.

The third is when they’re at his front door, and Jose’s trying to dig his keys out of his pocket. “Shit, fuck, bitch,” He says under his breath, and he thinks he looks quite cute when he’s all frustrated.

He steps into the living room, and it hits him that everything is the same. Everything from the picture of Jose and his mom on the coffee table to the crease in the couch that he falls into when he gets home from the airport is the same.

By 3 AM, he has his long legs folded up onto the couch and his head set on Jose’s lap. There’s a hand playing at his curls, the colour of sunlight at noon. They listen to the sound of cars and steady breaths. It’s cosy, like sitting in front of fireplaces during winters in Canada.

“Remember those cream puffs we got that one time?”

“Mhmm.”

“Shit, I miss ‘em.”

He chuckles. He can still feel the alcohol coursing through him, even if it’s been half an hour since they’d last taken a shot of tequila that someone gave Jose for his birthday.

“You scared of anything?”

“What?”

“Anything.”

He thinks about his fear of showing too much emotion, his fear of failure, his fear of hurting people that fill the void that sucks everything up. They flash through his mind like a scrapbook, reminding him of all the things he pretends to not be afraid of.

“Spiders.”

“What the fuck?” He wonders briefly if the neighbours ever wake up in the middle of the night to that voice. “I was not expecting that.”

He laughs, and one of his curls is twirled around a finger. It’s intimate, but not romantic. It’s what they both need in a world as cold and cruel as the one they’ve signed up for. Not enough feels better than nothing.

“I have a flight at 10.”

There’s a groan, and an arm is thrown over his body before he can even make an attempt to get up. “Just leave your long log body here, we don’t gotta move.”

He looks up, sees the head thrown onto the back of the couch, and knows that the decision really isn’t his to make.

When Promo week rolls around, she suddenly feels the weight of thousands of eyes on her. They’re so heavy that she thinks that they might not even allow her to board the plane to LA.

They go to shoots and interviews, some of which she doesn’t even try to feign interest in. Her ears burn at the sound of questions repeated by different people who will never get to know who she is by asking her what filming was like.

The only thing that makes it better is drinking in Nina’s room at the end of the day. She’s sprawled out on the bed, Vanjie sitting on the edge beside her. Somewhere, she can hear Silky’s banshee laughter at one of Nina’s spot-on impressions.

The world stops in the small hotel room, too picturesque to be disturbed by the shitstorm that the rest of the universe is experiencing. As she lets the exhaustion from the first day seep into her skin, she feels the alcohol go straight to her toes.

“I’m going to stop drinking.”

She looks up, sees the eyebrow Vanjie’s raised so high it might just hit her wig line. Her eyes ask the question she can’t quite verbalize in the midst of Silky’s yelling. She shrugs at her, doesn’t bother to answer when there’s no judgment to answer to.

“Hey, you two.”

Their eyes travel to Nina who’s already out of drag and sipping on a drink.

“Did you answer each other?”

“What?”

Brooke’s eyebrows furrow together in puzzlement at the question. She looks to Vanjie, face blank like it always is whenever she doesn’t know the answer, and tries her best not to laugh out loud.

“When they asked you who the trade of the season is.”

“They didn’t ask me that.”

She watches Vanjie fold up her hands in her lap as her eyes fall. Her heart stops in her chest, suddenly petrified that pursuing this line of questioning would be too awkward for them, for this beautiful little thing they’ve built.

“Honey, we all know that I’m the true trade of season 11.”

Silky’s hands are on her hips, and she stares all three of them down. Laughter washes over the room, and the mood becomes infinitely lighter again. Brooke sees her shoot a quick wink at Vanjie when she thinks no one else is looking.

It dawns on her how delicate and fragile this all is. The rapport is perfect, probably the best thing she’s ever had since Steve came into her life. She can’t let it be destroyed by the world beyond the four walls.

She takes a deep breath, feels all her worry deep in her lungs. It slowly consumes her, devours her. She wastes away on Nina’s bed as notes of laughter and shouting harmonize all around her.

A hand starts to pat and stroke her wig, and she resolves to request that no interviews be done with them together.

The first thing she does after the episode airs is do a livestream with her.

They’re both de-dragging, making jokes in front of an audience like the history that they have with each other doesn’t run deeper than a friendship built off of competition. It’s acting, and they’re terrible at it.

She can’t help it that their dynamic is a mix of flirting and caring, the way it always has been. They joke about their comments on each other being trade, ask if they’re doing good, ignore the elephant in the room.

Her heart beats a little too fast each time she spots a comment saying that they look cute together or that they should hook up. She wants to shout, yell, scream at the top of her lungs that they’ve already tried.

It’s only then that she realizes the gravity of the situation she’s gotten herself into, the danger of putting a love that she never expected to have on display for people starved for it. She wants it for herself, can’t even have it for herself.

When the live ends, she picks up a pack of cigarettes and steps out onto the balcony. She looks out over the streets of Seattle, watches the people walking below- wondering what they’re thinking about, making up stories in her head for each one that strikes out to her.

With the first drag, she imagines that the man in the suit is coming home from the office to a wife whose beauty he no longer sees. He doesn’t really look at her anymore, aside from when he guilts himself into not starting an affair.

With the fifth drag, she imagines the girl, no more than 18, go to clubs that she should and shouldn’t be at. She takes shots, lets the fire burn down her throat, and dances with a guy that whispers empty promises.

With the tenth drag, she imagines the child, surprisingly still awake past midnight, arrive at his mother’s house. He asks why his dad can’t be there, asks questions with answers that get stuck along the way, and he’s rocked to sleep as tears fall onto the pillowcase.

Her phone pings. She looks at the message and returns to pretending that her story doesn’t exist. When she blows out the smoke, she asks it to take the parts of her soul she doesn’t want any more with it.

J: i’ll call u 2morrow

The first time he sees the story, a word flashes in his mind like bright red neon lights in the dark of night.

Shit.

This isn’t how it’s supposed to go. He isn’t supposed to feel so invested, so concerned and so utterly relieved that she’s posted a song, their song on her story. He wants to take a red-eye just to ask what it all means.

Instead, he settles for Facetiming her in the back of the club he’s at. He’s received about ten different texts from Courtney about how she ever so casually and drunkenly mentioned him at her show, but he tries not to think too hard about it.

Which, knowing him, takes up way too much energy that he doesn’t have.

When she picks up, he can’t stop himself from thinking that she looks gorgeous. She is dark colours and skull dresses and everything he forces himself to believe he doesn’t want.

“Hey, you okay?”

She shrugs her shoulders at him, eyes throwing the question right back. Everything around him starts to fade away. Under the bright lights of the club, all he can see is the dejection on her face.

“You want to talk?” He almost has to yell over the music, tries his best to be coherent.

“Look,” She starts, and he knows that this isn’t going to go the way he wants. “I just had a few drinks. You know how I get all set—semti—all up in my feelings and shit.:

He opens his mouth to speak, but she shakes her head. This is not a subject to open up in a club, separated by cities and feelings that they haven’t come to understand quite yet. She tries her best to smile at him, and his heart clenches.

“You promise you’re doing okay?”

“Mary, I’m fine!” Her voice is joking again, no trace of the pain or hurt that he knows that they both still feel. “You don’t gotta worry about me.”

Someone goes in and out of Vanjie’s dressing room, and he’s suddenly conscious that he’s in public. He lowers his phone, tries his best to hide her from everyone else. Not that she’s his, anyway.

“Well, drink some water.” He says, and she laughs at him. “And uhm, can you send me that picture?”

She looks at him questioningly, and he feels like she’s right there, staring him down. Her eyes see straight through him, and he’s so terrified that he wants to hide behind the crowds forming all around him.

“Alright.”

Spending holidays with one of your best friends in the world is supposed to be normal. They’re times to be grateful, to express love. They’re supposed to be days straight out of Hallmark cards that he stuffs in a drawer because who the hell still buys cards?

He doesn’t consider that his best friend is an ex he’s still in love with.

They have brunch with Gia, go to a club with an old friend of theirs, and return to Jose’s apartment at half past eleven. He crashes onto the couch without a thought and doesn’t even think about how much it feels like a home away from home.

“So, you’ve never watched The Office?”

Jose shrugs, and hands him a bowl of chips. “Everyone’s been telling me it’s a show for white people.”

“Doesn’t mean it’s not funny.”

He spends the rest of the night with Jose, trains his eyes to shift subtly between the TV and his face. He laughs whenever he does, and he tries to hide his lack of focus by crunching the lime-flavoured chips.

“I got something on my face?”

“Hmm?”

“You keep looking here, bitch.”

He’s supposed to feel even the slightest bit embarrassed that he’s gotten caught, but he can’t bring himself to care. He laughs lightly, and sits up - becomes aware of how he’s close enough that he can feel the heat radiating off of the other man.

“Just making sure you’re here.”

“Nowhere else I wanna be, baby.”

He knows the last word is an accident, a relic from a long time ago, but it isn’t taken back. He turns his head, looks at him with no shame. Jose bites his lip as he stares at the screen, but he can tell that he isn’t really watching anymore.

“Brock?”

“Yeah?”

“You gonna keep me waiting forever or what?”

There’s a laugh, and he’s suddenly lost in Jose’s lips. They taste like lime and tequila, but there’s something else there, something unique and familiar that reminds him of what happiness should feel like.

Before long, they’ve pushed their way into the bedroom, and he’s on his knees. It isn’t the best idea. Shit, he knows it’s a terrible idea to fuck their unspoken problems away, but it feels good; good enough that they don’t stop.

When he falls onto the bed, eyes closed and breathing heavy, he tries to kill any thought of consequences. He chases them as they run around his brain, and throws them out. They bang on the door, try to remind him that they’re there, but he begins to drift.

Jose’s arm drapes over his waist, and he is home.

He wakes up the next morning and untangles himself as quickly as he can so they don’t have to talk about the things he doesn’t know how to say.

The night before the finale is all hushed whispers, an attempt at cutting away the nerves that have turned into vines that wrap around his neck. Jose holds him, goes no further, and tells him that he’s going to be amazing.

They film the reunion a few days letter, and she sees the pain in her eyes when they act like she didn’t need her arms around her when she’d accepted that she’d lost. It’s all a game of pretend, and neither of them are winning.

When she finally says that they’re no longer together, she tries to soften the blow by saying that she loves her; but in the fantasy that they’ve built for themselves, she doesn’t know if Vanjie will recognize that that one thing is true.

She starts to wipe tears away from the corners of her eyes, and she comes over for a hug. She’s addicted to the smell of her cologne and the feel of her skin against hers, and she does everything to hide it from Ru and the rest of the world.

They’re all ushered back into the dressing room when it’s all over, and all the tension from the stage disappears. All the girls return to kiking with each other like they’d done for months after filming as they start to de-drag.

So, why does she feel like guilt blocks her airways each time she looks at Vanjie?

She grabs her wrist, and pulls her aside; but when she looks down at her in the corner of the room packed with queens, she loses all her words. All she can see is disease ridden eyes and the ghost of a smile that she wants back.

“I love you.”

Vanjie winces, and she wants to burst into tears. It’s not fair, it’s not fair, it’s no fucking fair. Freedom should taste sweet like candy on Halloween, but all it tastes like in her presence is blood she draws from her lip in worry.

“I love you too.”

The words are strained, but she knows she means it.

They hug, and all the queens whoop and aww. She wants them all to shut up because this moment is theirs. It’s pain and pleasure and it’s theirs.

A fire starts in Jose’s apartment. It burns bright and scorches his skin, but he can’t take his eyes off of it. It’s all chaos and splendour, and he almost forgets that it has the ability to kill him where he stands.

“What the fuck do you want?”

The question is asked for the nth time. He stopped counting after the fourth time, when he realizes that he doesn’t really know the answer. It’s too abstract, too complex for him to try and explain.

“I don’t know.”

“Then what are we doing?”

He gulps, all the words falling into the pit of his stomach. It’s almost ridiculous that he’s scared of someone so much smaller than him, but they’re holding each other’s hearts hostage. The consequences could destroy them.

“We’re just friends.”

Jose huffs, and he throws up his arms in defeat. He wants to hold those hands that fit perfectly in his, but he’s too busy using them to burn it all down. The worst part of it all is that he knows he can’t blame him.

“Friends don’t fuck, say ‘I love you,’ then pretend it didn’t happen.”

The words are spit at him like venom, but he doesn’t mind. He knows that he deserves it after the hell that he’s put him through. Maybe they’re both willing participants, but his reasons are so selfish that he expects the pain.

He asks himself if anything is supposed to hurt like this. Maybe this is what breakups are supposed to feel like. Maybe they’re supposed to feel like someone throwing his heart into a blazing flame.

“I can’t fucking do it.”

The way he says it makes him cry, and he wipes the tears away. He sees something in Jose’s eyes, something akin to pity, and he wants to scream that this is everything he was afraid of from the day he’d fallen in love.

Jose walks to the door, opens it for him. He doesn’t move, at least not for a minute. He doesn’t want to. This is a refuge, a retreat, a goddamn home, and if he leaves, he knows he might never come back.

He thinks about begging for a moment. He thinks about falling to his knees and pleading for the forgiveness that he doesn’t deserve. He thinks about asking for an infinite chance because God knows how many times he’s hurt him before.

“I need you to go.”

It’s stern, and he knows that he has no choice. He carries his feet, and each step feels like breaking promises that he wants to make. Freedom is so close that he can taste it, but it still tastes like metal.

“I’m sorry.”

The door shuts behind him when he says the words, and it’s all over.

When he sees his tweets the next day, he crawls into bed and wishes for arms to hold him tight.

She almost backs out of their show together, but Nina holds her hand. She convinces her that Vanjie deserves better than a disappearing act that rivals their magic show. Brooke nods her head and does her best to smile.

“I’ll be right here if you need me, okay?”

Nina’s all warmth and love, and she thinks that she might be the luckiest person in the world. She squeezes her hand before she leaves her in the crowd to go to the backroom of the club.

When she opens the door, she’s greeted by the smell of her cologne. It assaults her senses, and she’s suddenly dizzy. The world starts to spin, and the tiny queen who doesn’t even bother to look at her as she finishes her makeup is in the center it.

“Hey.”

“Hi.”

She still doesn’t look up, and Brooke thinks she might just throw up. The quiet makes her uneasy, so she shuffles her feet as Vanjie applies her lipstick. She hopes that she doesn’t hear her heart thumping against her chest.

“If you’re gonna say something, you better say it.”

One deep breath. The words make their way from her heart to her head. They shoot upwards, and it takes her a moment to comprehend them. They’re too vulnerable, but that’s what Vanjie’s demanding from her.

Two deep breaths. The words make their way from her head to her mouth. She says them in a rush, like a waterfall that she’s always wanted to visit with her, but knows that they’ll probably never see.

“I’m sorry. I love you, and I fucked it all up. I told you I wanted to be free, but I can’t be free when I spend my every waking moment wishing I could take it all back.”

Three deep breaths. The words make their way from her mouth to Vanjie’s ears. She sets down the lipstick on the table and purses her lips together. The minute of uneasy silence feels like forever to Brooke, but she doesn’t dare keep speaking.

“I can’t do it, y’know?” She turns her head, and Brooke sees that the disease is killing her slowly. “I’m not ready for a relationship with you right now, if that’s what you want.”

“It’s not.” It is. “Maybe one day. Right now, I just want us to be… us again.”

She walks over slowly, delicately breaches Vanjie’s bubble. Her heart races even faster, and she prays to every single god that Silky doesn’t burst into the room to ruin the moment that they’re having.

“Hi,” She holds out her hand and her hopes. “I’m Brooke Lynn Hytes.”

Vanjie regards her for a moment, assesses her as if they’d never met before. With a sigh, she shakes her hand.

“I’m Vanessa Isabella Vanjie Mateo.”

DragCon passes by in a flash. She hugs all her fans, takes pictures with other queens, and smiles proudly when she sees the queue for Vanjie’s booth grow infinitely longer.

They barely talk for the whole weekend, far too busy and tired to make any meaningful conversation. All they manage is a few photos for the fans, and texts reminding each other to drink water.

The season 11 tour starts, and they find themselves playing along with Asia’s light-hearted jokes. If it stings a little to have a love that she still feels be the butt of a joke, she tries her best to ignore it.

The morning of the second show, he catches wind from A’keria that Vanjie can barely get out of bed. Without thinking, he buys about eight different medicines and a Gatorade before rushing to his hotel room.

When he knocks on the door, he hears a groan come from the other end. “It’s me!” He calls out, and enters the room. The curtains are drawn, making the room dark enough that he can barely make out the person wrapped up in the blanket on the bed.

“What you doing here?” Jose’s voice is barely a croak, but he finds enough energy to sound pissed. “You’re gonna get sick, you idiot!”

“I’ll be fine.” He brushes off his concern and takes a seat on the bed. He places a hand on Jose’s forehead and grimaces at how hot it is. “How are you feeling?”

“Like shit, what do you think?”

He laughs lightly and pulls out some medicine. It takes a small argument for him to convince him to drink it, and he smiles when he notices him hold the Gatorade bottle with both hands like a child.

“This is what happens when you work too hard.”

“You do it too.”

Jose sticks his tongue out at him, and he wonders if the childlike behaviour is because of the fever. There’s a voice in his head telling him that this might not be the best idea after agreeing to just casually get to know each other, but he cares too much to listen.

“Now go to sleep.”

“No way, hoe. I gotta get ready.”

It requires little force for him to get Jose to lie back down. “Oh no, you are not going to do the show like this.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.” He replies, but he’s already started to hike the covers all the way back up to his neck. Brock chuckles, and he thinks that maybe the warmth he feels is more than just from the fevered body next to him.

“Shut up.” He says lovingly. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep.”

Brock strokes his hair, and when he stays a minute or an hour longer than he’s supposed to, he doesn’t mind.

He gets sick a few days later, and he gets a call from miles away.

“Bitch, I told you so.”

June is a hazy mix of cities and bars. They return to their routine of texting every day, checking up on each other whenever they can. He hesitates to start each conversation, wonders if he’s pushing it too far. The smile he gets with each Facetime is worth the worry.

In July, he sees him again for the tour.

He stares at the floor as Jose gets ready, doesn’t look up to watch him cover up the flaws that he thinks make him so beautiful.

“You’re thinking too loud.”

Brock laughs under his breath and sees him walk over to the couch. He sits down beside him, and he can’t stop the love in his eyes from shining through, even if he knows he needs to be more subtle.

“Yeah? What was I thinking about then?”

“I ain’t no mind reader, Mary.”

He picks up Jose’s hand and locks their fingers together. It’s almost imperceptible, but he sees the smile on his face. It reminds him of roses and rain and the colour orange. This is freedom, he thinks to himself.

“Baby,” His voice is soft, a whisper lost in the wind. “I’m not ready yet, okay?”

When Jose doesn’t let go, he squeezes his hand. A promise, perhaps? He isn’t sure, but it’s something. Hope is better than having a gaping hole in his chest.

“It’s okay, I can wait.”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

#rpdr fanfiction #brooke lynn hytes #vanessa vanjie mateo #branjie #snowbun #please remember your tags!#canon compliant #dragcon

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