#when i first played through chapter 3 this was my exact thought process

[wysterius]

Chapter 3: Case Closed

So, as some of you may know, I'm working on a Ryoma-centric rewrite of DRV3. In this year-long project, I've written up a lot of drabbles and deleted scenes. I realize most of them probably won't be used in my fic, but some of them are so good I had to post them somewhere. So, here's my take on if Ryoma survived to chapter three. Please enjoy!

“A body has been discovered! Please make your way to the Ultimate Artist's Lab.”

Ryoma sighed, wondering who it could be. The last murder was inconclusive, resulting in Kirumi being executed. The odds of them guessing that right were slim to none, seeing as there was no evidence. Just a body and a maid with a motive.

As Ryoma stepped into the Ultimate Artist’s Research Lab, he was shocked to see blood. The last murder was a seemingly comatose body. This one had been stabbed and was laying in a pool of its own blood. It didn't take much to see that it had been Angie, with her white hair and bright yellow cardigan stained with her own blood. Hanging from the ceiling around her were wax figures of the four Ultimates they'd lost so far: Rantaro, Kaede, Tenko, and Kirumi. The wax Kaede had a golden katana sticking out of its chest. It was all so horribly macabre.

After the initial shock, the students began investigating. Ryoma looked up at the wax figures, focusing on the way they were tied. The ankles of each wax figure were neatly wrapped and suspended with lengths of rope. Ryoma found this peculiar, but he couldn't quite put his finger on why. Then he looked at the gold leaf katana, a hunch forming as he thought. He looked over at Korekiyo, studying the way they investigated the room. The katana obviously came from the Anthropologists lab, but Korekiyo was more interested in the paints and Angie's art. That settled it.

“It's Korekiyo.” Ryoma announced casually. Everyone, including the Anthropologist, reacted in shock.

“H-how do you know that?” Shuichi was stunned.

“Yes, please explain to everyone where you got that idea…” Korekiyo hissed, narrowing their eyes at Ryoma.

“The katana. Korekiyo, this must be from your lab. It's the only place someone could have gotten something like this. Anyone could have grabbed it. I'd expected a professional in their work to be more upset when a piece of their collection goes missing. Especially to be used like this. Yet you had no reaction to it at all. Also the legs are tied too neatly. Someone just trying to get a point across wouldn't have cared how the legs were tied. In fact, I don't think any of us would go to the lengths of tying up wax figures. It looks like a ritual. Pretty obvious.” Ryoma put his hands in his pockets and shrugged. “Just a hunch though.”

Everyone stood in shocked silence staring at Ryoma. Korekiyo seemed puzzled, frustrated, but most of all impressed.

“W-well t-there’s still more to investigate….a-and maybe with more evidence….” Tsumugi tried.

“No, I think Ryoma has a point.” Shuichi agreed. “No one else could have pulled something like this off.”

[bidisaster-peanut-romano]

What do you think a post-meds/post-therapy (bc he obviously needs both), mentally healthy Gary would look like? Most of what we see in-game is off-meds-and-super-paranoid Gary, and it made me wonder how much of his personality is genuine and how much is borne from megalomania and paranoia. Idk - I saw your anon answers about Petey/Jimmy and I thought that you would probably have a really interesting take, so here we are!

sorry if this ask took so long to answer, anon!!

first of all thank you sm for your nice words????? promise i'll try my best <3

so, somehow i think that we mostly got a quite close picture during the initial missions of chapter 1 (maybe up until halloween???), maybe just a bit more cruel - but i still do think that he's. generally quite mean?? i think it's implied that he gets along quite decently (or at least is able to communicate) with derby harrington, and honestly that does mean something. like he's still an unhinged sixteen years old trying to have fun in high school, except this time he's actually trying to have fun instead of... what he went through during the game

i don't think he'd be any less witty than we generally see him also. he'd love cracking stupid and even mean jokes, at the expenses of others, too. and also causing someone to get at each other's throats to slip away himself and witness the shitshow- like that time that he got wade and the bullies to come at casey and they were all sent to the principal's office instead of all the cliques against jimmy and each other, for example

i keep the stance that he would have. zero emotional intelligence. like he's very smart and, although all of his interpretations of everyone's thoughts were heavily fueled by paranoia, he's still good at understanding others' tought processes. i can still see him knowing the exact remarks to make to unsettle someone, or organizing elaborate pranks just a bit less radical than taking over the school. but he'd still have a hard time coming to terms with how he can hurt other people with words, esp when it's about small things and unintentional coincidences.

(gary: "i mean, i just made a joke about handcuffs." pete: "gary, his brother was arrested yesterday, of course you hurt him." jimmy: "the question now is, do you care?" pete, who's trying desperately to make gary Think About Others' Feelings: "JIMMY. PLEASE")

also i think a healthier gary would also be tendentially introvert?? i think he'd be a bit less interested in hanging out with or even understanding kids he's not especially close to, preferring instead reading or playing videogames (he feels like a horror games player to me??? it's a nice headcanon shall i say); once he's established the relationship with someone though he might as well text them in the middle of the night to tell them a thought he's had, an idea or really just anything he might want to share

(also like. what he first thought was making him better than everyone else, superhuman and above everyone else is, now that his mania is gone feels actually a bit... lonely? like he's found out that it makes him neither worse or better than others, so him feeling on a wholly different wavelength of thought than most other kids is a bit tiring sometimes. but he learns to kind of just. vibe along with the other people of the environment???)

more in general, i figure he'd be kind of the kid in the back of the classroom, occasionally cracking jokes or throwing paper planes but generally just . getting along with the others or pulling stupid pranks to have a laugh, then going up to his best friends and being like “hey how do you think it would look if we set a drop of hand sanitizer of fire? just a drop no massive fire i promise” (idk if you ever tried but that is funny to watch actually) and hanging out in the afternoon

[asweetprologue]

Nili’s Benchmark Geraskier Fic Rec List

hey yall! I officially hit 750 followers (a few days ago, I blew past the benchmark without even realizing!), which is... insane. I truly can’t believe that so many people over the last year have enjoyed my presence in this fandom enough to continue to follow my work. you guys are so great and I love you all so much, so I decided to put together a gift for you!

this is a list of my favorite geraskier fics from the fandom, which I have been putting together over the last year or so. a few of these are big in the fandom, but a lot of them are smaller pieces that I feel deserve more attention! I have provided ao3 and tumblr links where I could find them, as well as ratings and summaries. Most of these are canon!verse because I’m not personally a big fan of modern au’s, but there will be a few of those scattered throughout as well. I’ve divided the fics into two sections: oneshots and multichapter. See the list below the cut!

Being in this fandom truly has gotten me through the pandemic in a big way and I have made so many good friends while here. thank you all for validating my weird obsession with these characters and enabling me in these trying times <3

Oneshots

all that was good, all that was fair (all that was me is gone) | M | 7517 | WARNING: Graphic Depictions Of Violence | @xdandelionxbloomx

Somewhere, deep in a forest, a man drags himself from his grave by sheer power of will. He lies gasping on the forest floor and does not know who or what he is. The world is wide and wonderful, though, and there is so much to see.

Or, Jaskier is so stubborn that he literally comes back from the dead.

Another fascinating addition to the mythology of the Witcher. Jaskier’s slow rediscovery of himself is so well done here. One I’ve come back to again and again. 

As Fast As Love Can Go | T | 9628 | @bygodstillam

There are Faeries in the Wood.

That's what everyone said, at least, not that there was any solid proof. Jaskier had tried, more than once, to find some. Just a hint somewhere, of a real story, of real magic. But all anyone seemed to have was stories.

Jaskier was determined to find proof. He wasn't expecting to find a witcher in the process.

Fascinating fic with some really interesting worldbuilding, and a fresh new take on True Love’s Kiss. Also with some great art by @hehearse!

beautiful, he stirs up still things | T | 2575 | @alittlebitmaybe

“You’re not asking me to dance,” says Geralt.

Jaskier turns his palm up on his knee, offering it. “I think you’ll find I am.”

Just them dancing. This is a lovely sort of pre-relationship dynamic. So soft.

Dialogue Prompt | NR | 2932 | @reinvent-and-believe

Dialogue Prompt 48: “You make me want things I can’t have.” Wordless I-love-you 50: buying them a special treat when you go out shopping

Geralt gets Jaskier a gift, which prompts some confessions.

Even a small love | E | 22,272 | WARNING: Rape/Non-Con 

“Well,” Jaskier replies distractedly. “Lots of things want to strangle you.”

“You don’t.”

It isn’t a particularly troublesome accusation, or even necessarily an accusation at all.

This is one I read early on in the fandom, and it really stuck with me. The dynamic between Jaskier and Geralt is perfect, and the misunderstandings between them feel so realistic. The non-con is not extreme, but do mind the warnings. 

For the Space of a Heartbeat | T | 2021 | @drowningbydegrees

As it turns out, falling into bed with your very best friend who you are privately very much in love with isn't nearly so nerve wracking as waking up with them the morning after.

Just sweet, morning after discussions. I love to see them talking for once.

Greensleeves | T | 10,414 | @rebrandedbard

When Geralt crosses paths with Jaskier in the spring, the world is dressed in green. Quite literally. Everyone everywhere is wearing green, and it all comes down to a song Jaskier has written that, to his mortification, has become popular throughout the Continent. It's torment, being forced to preform the song over and over again and have his heart broken anew. But who is this Lady Greensleeves the people say Jaskier is so maddeningly, heartbrokenly in love with? At the baron's wedding party, Geralt is determined to find out.

This is one of my personal faves - there’s just something about Jaskier’s feelings being put on blast while Geralt remains totally oblivious that I think is so very them. And the resolution at the end is delightful.

I Don’t Wanna Fall (If It’s Not In Love) | E | 13,902 | @writinglizards

The first time it's out of desperation. Things get rapidly out of hand from there.

OR the building of a relationship through mutual wank sessions.

I love everything Ashley writes, but this one was the first fic I read by her and it still has a warm place in my heart. I also highly recommend It’s Been A While (makes me cry every time) and Tell Me Honestly

Like a Storm, Like a Flood | T | 1065 | @valdomarx

Jaskier is leaving for the winter, and Geralt can't bear the thought of not seeing him for months.

It was soooo hard to pick only one fic by George, but this one is so soft and sweet and yearning I just had to go with it. This is really just about Geralt finally hitting a breaking point and saying enough is enough.

one flesh | E | 10,763 | WARNING: MCD 

“Well, then. I’m a ghost.” Jaskier spread his arms grandly. Geralt held his gaze for a moment, then dropped his head and laughed. Jaskier put his hands on his hips. “Do fill me in on what’s so funny.” It wasn’t funny. It was just so - ridiculous, the things Geralt’s fucked up brain would invent. This had to be the last nail in the sanity coffin, it just had to be.

Or: Jaskier is a ghost, and Geralt is a mess.

Jaskier dies and comes back as a ghost to haunt Geralt into taking care of himself. Geralt does not handle this gracefully. This fic is so sad and heartbreaking, but the ending is so sweet.

to render it transparent | E | 23,901

Geralt wakes up warm, peaceful, and utterly content, which is how he knows that something is severely wrong.

Sigh. This fic. This is a time travel fic - Geralt ends up in the future living with Jaskier on the coast, just after the mountain. It’s slow and beautiful and extremely bittersweet, all about how we choose to love people despite how much it can hurt us.

With All the Continent A Stage | M | 4745 | @greyduckgreygoose

Later, Geralt learned that the play was four hours long. Four hours long. It didn’t feel like it. Most of it passed by in a fever dream of ominous music, dance-fighting and dryads in gossamer leaves, swinging from hoops attached to the ceiling. Yennefer made an appearance, played by Priscilla in a glittering negligee. She sang a song to Geralt about putting him “Under Her Spell”, and they had a sensual dance number which was made a little strange by a sickened Jaskier (played by Jaskier) coughing loudly in the background.

(Jaskier invites Geralt to a musical production inspired by his own life.)

Jaskier basically writes Geralt a love letter in the form of a four hour long play. Geralt is an idiot about it.

Multi-Chapter Fics

A Lover’s Lament | M | 25,364 | @somedrunkpirate

So,” Jaskier begins, as casually as he can, “you are telling me, that in theory, if I were to be in love with someone — anyone — that person could well be in terrible danger?”

Of all terrible and ridiculous things that have threatened Geralt’s safety, Jaskier’d never thought that loving him might be what will get him killed.

I honestly can’t count the number of times I’ve read this fic. The monster is so interesting, and the mythos of it fits seamlessly into the world of the Witcher in my mind. Jaskier being so afraid that his feelings are going to put Geralt at risk, clearly unable to see that Geralt is going through the exact same thing. I think about the scene with them looking at each other almost daily. 

A Pair of Gloves, the Scent of Roses | M | 24,134 | WARNING: Graphic Depictions of Violence

In the bustling days before the Midsummer festival, Geralt is sent into the countryside to deal with a monster - with Jaskier once again by his side. But the bard has not forgiven him, and while he's not hiding his contempt for the Witcher, he is recalcitrant about revealing his true motives for joining him. As the hunt turns into a desperate mission to save an innocent man and the monster is not what is seems to be, Geralt learns a few new things about his old friend and decides to finally attempt to mend the rift between them...

This is one of my favorite’s in the fandom - it feels so believable, the world is so rich and the oc’s are convincing and charming. Geralt and Jaskier feel so honest here, stumbling around each other but still drawn together. Beautiful beautiful beautiful

Bearing the will of the flower | NR | 11,449 

The way Jaskier sees it, his hobby of following a witcher around was always pretty likely to get him killed.

The fact that it's happening now because the witcher in question doesn't love him, he thinks as he coughs up crumpled flowers, hardly makes a difference.

My favorite hanahaki fic in the fandom. I’m such a sucker for these, and these two idiots being so incapable of talking about their feelings really makes them prime candidates. 

Food of Love | T | 22,488 | @wallatile-qvibbler

I brought a dead princess back to life through the power of song is the kind of thing that would have got an eyebrow raise even from the stone-faced Geralt of Rivia, so it's a good thing he and Geralt will probably never see each other again.

(or: the one where Jaskier channels magic through his songs, and it almost never goes as expected.)

This is a Jaskier and Renfri centric fic, which wasn’t something I knew I wanted until I read this. Jaskier is a bard which in this AU comes with magical powers, but it feels so well integrated into the universe that I wish it was just... how the Witcher is. Renfri is so good here, and even though Jaskier and Geralt barely even interact you can feel the tension and love between them. Cannot recommend highly enough.

friends and allies of the witcher | T | 10,312 | @theamazingbard

Yennefer crawls over to her newest cellmate. They’re curled up on their side. Breathing, but only just. She’s not sure what she’s hoping for when she turns them over. Still isn’t when she sees that it is indeed Jaskier.

“Shit."

Yennefer and Jaskier each suffer in more ways than one at the hands of Nilfgaard.

Yennefer and Jaskier get capture by Nilfgaard and tossed into a cell together. Exactly what I want out of season 2 honestly. Their interactions are gold.

I’d Be the Choiceless Hope | E | 45,188 | WARNING: Rape/Non-Con | @lesdemonium

As a baby, Jaskier was visited by a fae, who gifted Jaskier's mother with Jaskier's obedience. As Jaskier grew older, the "gift" became more of a curse.

You know I’m not gonna make a rec list without listing Zoe’s Ella Enchanted au. Need I say more?

Silver and Copper | M | 56,139 | WARNING: Graphic Depictions of Violence | @kaer-cuan

Geralt is just supposed to pass through the quiet Lettenhove area. He's not anticipating being begged by its people to help save their viscount from a curse that keeps him from daylight. Lord Jaskier, they call him, and he's likely dying.

As Geralt struggles to untangle the ugly web of history that has lead to the increasingly complicated curse, he finds himself spending more and more time with the strange young viscount and wondering just what he might have been before the curse, and who he might be after. But things are not always as they seem, and as the curse tightens its grip on Jaskier, Geralt is forced to face the fear of failing yet another person whose choices were stolen from them.

Or-

Jaskier is kept from becoming a bard. Geralt finds him anyway.

This is a fic that haunts me. It’s very scary in parts, and mind the tags - there are some very heavy themes here. But it’s beautiful and touching, and Jaskier feels very true to himself even though his origin is so different.

we could be married (and then we'd be happy) | E | 50,222 | @a-kind-of-merry-war

Jaskier reached into his pocket, fingers grasping around the little box. He pulled it out with what he hoped was a romantic flourish, flipping it open to reveal the simple gold band inside. “Geralt,” he said, confidently, cooly, like this wasn’t terrifying, “Will you marry me?”

Geralt and Jaskier fake marriage proposals to get free deserts and shit but it goes tits up when Vesemir catches them in the act. Not knowing how to fess up, they go along with it for a while, which is hell because they’re both pining like mad. As I said, I don’t love modern au’s, but it’s merry so of course this one had to end up on my list.

~

And that’s it! 20 fics for you, and hopefully you can all find one or two you haven’t read before. There are a lot of people and fics that I didn’t include in this list only because I was trying to not put a million down (which I could). I highly recommend anything by @wherethewordsare, @julek, @contemplativepancakes, @witcher-and-his-bard, and @inber, as well as those linked to fics above, and I’m sure there are others I forgot to mention. Yall have truly made being in this fandom worthwhile <3

[horansqueen]

Headlines - Chapter 7

Story Masterlist ✨

❤  chapter 1 ❤ chapter 2 ❤ chapter 3 ❤ chapter 4 ❤ chapter 5  ❤ chapter 6  ❤

NOTES  ❤

❤ written from both Niall and Ophélie’s POVs ❤ i don’t proofread, I never do, I hate it. ❤ OU comedy/fluff/smut/romance ❤ 3.2k ❤ i accept requests and ideas for this story, so message me in my inbox! ❤ if you want to be notified when this story is updated (or be taken off the update list) CLICK HERE

Ophélie

I had no idea what happened after the charity night but somehow, I felt Niall was even more distant. I knew I had gone a little too far and i felt slightly guilty after that, but at the same time, it was only money, wasn't it? And he couldn't pretend he didn't have enough to live. Maybe I had done that because of jealousy and the fact that his apartment was new, modern and huge while mine was old, horrible and that I had to share it with someone I hated. It's not like we enjoyed each other's company anyway and we only spent time together when we really had to which was, in my opinion, way too often.

It had been a few weeks and we were still acting in love. It was not easier with time but it was not harder either. I had even started seeing it as a job and it really helped. The fact that Niall barely talked to me when we were in private meant that we also didn't fight as much, which seemed to help, too. The only problem was that I was bored. Yes, this whole thing was boring me, and having to remain calm and collected around Viktor was not an easy task either. It seemed like my whole life, professional and personal, was a mess and I had no time to relax.

Today was almost exactly the same exact for the fact that I had a radio interview and that I was nervous. It was not my first interview but it was the first one I did with Niall and we had agreed to answer questions about our relationship. It was not something I would do normally, if this was a real thing, but since it was fake, I didn't have my say in this. I was a bit surprised both our agents had agreed on something live, though, but it probably meant we were good actors, especially knowing that we couldn't stand each other. I knew I'd have to control my reactions and my facial expressions and I was trying to calm down.

I got out of my thoughts when Niall moved closer and he wrapped his arms around me from behind, leaving a sweet kiss on top of my head. I felt something sink in my chest and swallowed hard.

"Hey, don't be nervous petal." he whispered, holder me tight against him. I felt his chest press on my back and held my breath at the proximity of our bodies. Somehow, it always made me feel nervous when he was close to me, and I was not sure what it meant. Perhaps pretending to be dating someone while not really knowing them made me feel uneasy. "It'll go well."

I wanted to ask him why he was doing that but I noticed some people looking at us and I understood. I tried to relax in his arms and let my head fall back slightly, leaning it near his shoulder. He smelled good and I closed my eyes, trying to focus on the role I was playing. I really loved being an actress but having to play almost every day and all day someone that was not me, whether it was at work, when I was with Niall and even when people would just talk to me about him, was getting heavy on my shoulders and I was scared to lose myself through the process, as cliché as it sounded.

"I'm here." he added after moving his head near mine and I felt his lips brush on my temple. "You'll do amazing."

I knew he didn't have these feelings for me but I started wondering if he was like that when he was in a relationship. It was not like a movie, we didn't have a script or anyone to direct us on how to play, and that made me believe that he played himself... An 'him' that was in love with me, of course, but still, it was hard not to think he was really this sweet, kind and loving guy... why wasn't he like that with me, when he was not playing? Why was he such an asshole when we would hang out? Why did I only see that bragging, annoying, condescending part of him?

"Ophélie King, Niall Horan, thank you both for being here!"

I smiled and licked my lips as I was sitting next to my fake boyfriend and I could swear my heart was about to jump out of my throat any second. I was an actress, and although I had been prepared to promote my movie and myself, It was definitely not my favorite part of the job.

"Thank you for inviting us!" Niall replied with a smile as I turned to look at him before turning back to the host.

"It's a pleasure to be here." I added, swallowing hard.

They asked me a few questions about my movie and Niall had to answer about his album but after the few normal and usual questions, the host turned to me and I could have sworn I had seen amusement glowing in his eyes.

"It's the first time Niall presents us one of his girlfriends publicly, you must be special, Ophélie."

Niall laughed and I smiled, tilting my head on the side. "I don't know, you'd have to ask him."

"It just came so naturally with her." Niall quickly replied with a shrug, shaking his head.

"Are you excited to see her movie?"

My lips parted and I turned to look at him, pressing my lips together. We hadn't really talked about the answers we could give, we thought we were smart enough to answer whatever questions they would throw our way, and for knowing Niall, I knew he wouldn't be scared to say politely that it was none of their business if they ever went too far, but at the same time, I feared we made a mistake by not really discussing this interview before.

"Yea, yea, I mean, my good friend Viktor is in it and apparently it's going to be quite big, so."

"You're friends with Viktor who apparently had something with Ophélie before, is that how you two met?"

I held my breath, feeling anger start forming in the pit of my stomach. They didn't ask if it was true, they just assumed it was, and I was ready to jump over the counter. I felt Niall's hand on my thigh and breathing in deeply. I thought it would annoy me but it calmed me suddenly and I turned to him, blinking a few times. Why was he being so sweet? Was it to save this PR? To save his image?

"No actually we met through our agents, and it just clicked immediately." he lied.

I remembered how much we hated each other at first sight and turned on my seat, making his hand slip off my thigh quickly. I wanted to say that nothing had happened with Viktor but I had no idea if I was allowed to, and I took a mental note to ask Lucy as soon as I could.

"A few weeks before though, you were seen quite a few times with Ruby Ann, and everyone thought you two were going to date." the host added, a smirk on his lips as he stared at him. "Do you regret it now?"

My heart literally stopped in my chest and I held my breath. I raised my eyebrows naturally and my eyes roamed on Niall for half a second. It was taking him way too long to answer and my heart sank in my chest. I tried not to show it but after two seconds, his lips parted and he shrugged a shoulder.

"No, of course not. Ophélie is... she's perfect."

For some reason, it felt like the worst compliment I had ever received. I knew he didn't like me but the fact that he couldn't even say anything nice about me was hurtful. I stared at him and swallowed hard but this time, it was not anger, it was pain. I was not sure if it was my ego or my feelings but that felt like someone had slapped me right in the face in front of way too many people.

"We saw you hugging before the show and I have to admit that you two are adorable together." an other host said, making me turn to her. I sent her a smile that she sent back and somehow, I felt like she had seen my discomfort. "Everyone is super excited for your movie, by the way, I hope you will both be together at the premiere."

"Yes, of course, I mean, if I'm invited."

I turned to Niall who sent me a smile and frowned a bit, an amused smile playing on my list. "We'll see if you deserve it."

Somehow, I felt like he could read through me. He probably knew I was not happy and that he had hurt me somehow even if I pretended for the stunt, but I hadn't expected him to move closer and press his lips gently against mine. They were warm and wet and for some reason, it made part of my pain disappear for a few seconds.

"Oh my god, you can't see it at home but here, we just witnessed a kiss!" the guy said with a small laugh.

"I am rooting for you!" the girl added, making me chuckle low as I felt my cheeks burn slightly.

I had never had my relationship, fake or not, be exposed like that and I had to admit it was a bit embarrassing. I knew it was part of the game but I felt like an impostor and I didn't like it.

Niall

The ride back home was silent and tensed.  We hadn't talked much these days, or at much contacts when we were not forced to. Every time we had to spent the night at my place or hers, we'd watch tv in silence then go to bed after a barely audible 'good night'. I was being cold with her, I knew it, but the words she had thrown at me after the charity gala kept echoing in my head over and over again. It was even worse when she was near, and it made it harder to be around her. Maybe I should have told her that she was hurting me but it would probably do no good and she'd just end up reminding me that this was just a stunt, and that she didn't have to like me to be in a fake relationship with me. Not only that, but I couldn't understand why it was affecting me so much. Maybe my agent was right, maybe I was just hurt because Ophélie was not mesmerized by my charm and that normally, people always end up liking me, and if that was the case, I had to keep this to myself anyway.

We walked in my apartment and she let her purse fall next to the couch the same way she did every day. This time, though, she didn't walk to the guest room and closed the door. Instead, she turned to me and I could see all the anger she had kept inside resurface suddenly like a tsunami.

"You're a fucking asshole!" she let out a bit louder than I expected, making me frown. "You made me look like a fucking idiot! You made it sound like.. like... like you fucking regretted dating me! That fucking Ruby something must be ecstatic in her living room, listening to you hesitate to answer that stupid fucking question!" My phone started beeping and Ophélie scoffed, shaking her head. "Bet it's her inviting for you a good fuck!"

I grabbed my phone, a bit speechless by her outburst, and read my agent's text message.

'We're gonna have some damage control to do.'

I didn't know if he was talking about Ophélie or the media but I put my phone away and took a step closer to my fake girlfriend who seemed near tears.

"I'm not sure I get it..."

Ophélie closed her eyes and breathed in as if looking at me was too tough and she shook her head. "You literally hesitated when they asked you if you regretted choosing me over her. Do you know how much that hurts, Niall?" she asked, her voice back to normal before hr eyes fluttered open again. "I know this is fake, but that really hurt. I'm not stupid, I know you'd never pick me over a girl like her... hell, you probably wouldn't even notice me in other circumstances.. but right now, you're supposed to pretend to love me. You really made me feel like shit."

"Ophélie, come on, I'm sure no one noticed."

Once again, she scoffed and shook her head, placing her hand on her forehead. "Everyone noticed, Niall. This two seconds hesitation felt like half an hour." she argued pacing the room. "And then, the only reason you find as to why you picked me is that I'm 'perfect'? What kind of answer is that?"

"I was caught off guard!" I let out, throwing my hands up and letting my arms fall back on each side of me. "I didn't expect that question and, I started thinking about the PR and that whole stunt and.."

"Or you were thinking about the chances you missed with that other girl." she said, cutting me.

"First off, no I was not. Second off, why do you even care?" I wondered with a frown, a bit surprised by this conversation. "Even if I think about an other girl I mean, it's not like anyone can read my mind? This is fake."

"You don't get it, Niall." she sighed, shaking her head. She moved her hand slightly and this time, I noticed she was crying. "We're not even dating for real and you reject me. I felt rejected live on the radio. You could have pretended-"

"I'm not an actor! Okay! I'm not!" I pointed out louder, cutting her tirade short. "I'm sorry if I've hurt you, I'm sorry you think I hesitated, I was not. I was just thinking about how this is PR and that it's extra fucked up, it was not against you!"

She stared at me, shamelessly letting tears fall down her cheek, and remained silent and motionless for a few seconds before to sigh again and walk to my couch, sitting on it. I watched her as she leaned her elbows on her knees and put her face in her hands and from the way her shoulders moved, I knew she was crying.

My first instinct was to sit next to her and try to comfort her but I was a bit scared to be rejected and I suddenly understood how she felt. She looked vulnerable and even if we both tried to piss each other off, that didn't mean I wanted to hurt her. It doesn't happen often but I normally just ignore the people I can't stand but with Ophélie, it was different. I couldn't ignore her because we were sort of working together, and we had a fake relationship that only a few other people knew about.

I finally sat next to her, far enough to make sure we were not touching, but after a minute or two, I tried to place my hand on her back and she didn't reject me. I let my hand rub gently on the fabric of her shirt and moved slightly closer.

"Hey, I'm sorry." I whispered before licking my lips. "I don't know if it changes anything but, I was not thinking about Ruby, or anyone else, really. It was not love with her, it was only sexual, and it's not the end of the world that it won't happen." I took a pause and closed my eyes. "Really, Ophélie, I'm sorry. I promise I'll do something about it. I'll sort this out, and show the world how much I love you. I'll be the one who looks totally obsessed with you, okay?"

She moved back slowly and her eyes met mine as her lips parted. I wanted to wipe the tears on her cheeks but I didn't dare, and we just stared at each other for a while. She finally nodded and I was surprised she actually trusted me.

I understood she didn't want to look starstruck, and that she didn't want to look like the one who loved the most in this relationship, even if it was fake. I also knew that I should treat her the way I would treat a woman i'm in love with, at least in public, and I had to work on that.

She let her tongue run on her bottom lip and my heart jumped in my chest. She looked pretty in a way I never thought she did before and something inside me just seemed to light up. I wanted to kiss her. I wanted to really kiss her. Not a PR kiss or a practice kiss. I wanted to really kiss her. I didn't know if it was to make her feel better or if it was purely selfish, all I knew was that I really wanted it for the first time.

Without thinking, I moved closer to her and changed my mind last second. Instead, I took her into a hug and she relaxed in my arms, buring her face in my shirt. I felt her hand grip it tight and I closed my eyes, wondering what exactly was happening to us.

"I promise I'll be faithful to this fake relationship." I added in a whisper, feeling her hair get stuck on my lips. "For as long as it lasts. And I'll do what I have to do tomorrow to shut everyone up, I swear."

Once again, she nodded but remained close to me without saying a word. I leaned my cheek on her head she stopped crying. I don't know how long we stayed like that but after a while, she moved away without looking at me and suddenly got up.

"I'm just... I'm tired, I'm going to bed."

I opened my mouth to point out it was barely 8pm but decided against it. She cleared was not tired, she just wanted to be alone, and that's something I respected.

"Okay, well if you need me, I'll stay here for a while and then I'll be on my room."

"Cool. 'Night Niall."

She grabbed her purse, avoiding my gaze, and walked to the hall before I sighed low. I knew tomorrow wouldn't be easy but I was wondering if the moment we had just shared was going to be forgotten tomorrow or worse, if she was going to regret it. I knew it could make things worse between us and I wanted to find a way to make things better. I didn't know if that game of 'who would piss off the other more' was over but at that exact moment, I was tired to play. I sighed again and shook my head. I would take a decision tomorrow. For now, I was too emotionally drained to think about it.

I kept looking at the hall where she disappeared and finally leaned my head on the couch and closed my eyes.

"Good night, petal."

[miraculous-trinity-leo]

Tᕼᗴ ᑕᕼᗩOTIᑕ ᗩᑎᘜᗴᒪ

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6)

Chapter 5: Don't Jinx It!

·•·—–·•†•·–—·•·

Chloé Bourgeois... A girl that can be described in many words

"She's absolutely ridiculous! I can't believe you have to do an art project with her of all people!" - Alix sprawled out on Marinette's balcony

"She can't be that bad, besides we might become friends." - Marinette sketching some designs

"Believe me, even I think she's a bit much... She's snobby, annoying, rude, immature, spoiled, she basically has the “I'm better than thow” attitude to a T."- Kagami sitting next to the flowerbed while reading a literature book

"See? Even Kagami agrees... Just don't talk to her, actually don't even move if you're in her sights. She's like a T-Rex, she can't see you if you don't move." - Alix

… … … … …

"Hello, I'm Marinette, it's nice to meet you." - Marinette reached out her hand as she smiled

*Que Alix facepalming herself while Kagami lets out a sigh*

"Whatever, I'm Chloé, but I'm sure you already knew that." - Chloé

They started their project and most interactions went the same way, Chloé would sit in a chair near the window and paint her nails while Marinette did all the work. The next day Marinette and Chloé were the only ones in the art room.

"Okay, let's get started." - Marinette skipping her way over to the art supplies

"You do that, I'll just sit over here." - Chloé walking to her chair

"... Say, is it fun painting your nails?" - Marinette looking over to Chloé

"Of course, what girl doesn't like nail art?" - Chloé

"Well, painting on a canvas is kind of like nail art, here try painting something." - Marinette handing Chloé a paint brush

"Please, I don't do art." - Chloé refusing the paint brush

"But you ‘Paint’ your nails." - Marinette

"It's different!" - Chloé

"Okay, how about this, if I can do a magic trick for you, will you try painting just a little bit?" - Marinette

"...Fine, impress me." - Chloé giving Marinette her full attention

Marinette pulled a seed she got earlier that day out of her pocket and showed it to Chloé

"A seed?" - Chloé giving an unimpressed look

"I'll turn it into a flower, as you can see I only have this seed, and there's nothing up my sleeves. When I turn back around this seed will be a flower, are you ready?" - Marinette still holding the seed for Chloé to see

"Just do it already." - Chloé

So, Marinette turned around putting her free hand over the seed, and imagined it growing. When Marinette turned back around, all Chloé saw was a fully bloomed Common Rockrose flower, leaving her stunned.

"How did you do that?!" - Chloé walking up to Marinette to get a better look at the flower

"Family secret." - Marinette with a small smirk - "So, you want to try painting now?"

"... Fine." - Chloé pouted her lips and sat down at an empty canvas while Marinette walked to the table beside it, and Marinette may or may not have seen a small smile on Chloé's face while she grabbed some more paint.

After about 30 minutes Alix and Kagami came in and found Chloé and Marinette flinging water paint at the canvas

"Ha!" - Marinette whiped her arm out, watching as the wet paint from the brush splattered onto the canvas

"Ha HA!" - Chloé doing the exact same motion, but with a little more flare

Kagami and Alix just stared in amazed silence... they had created a master piece... It was a magnificent painting showing a meadow with many flowers in an almost hazy dream kind of look,  it had a blue sky and a faint rainbow in the background behind some clouds on the horizon

"It's *sniff* Ridiculously beautiful..." - Chloé

"And you thought painting was boring." - Marinette teasing Chloé

"... Isley-Quinzel, look me in the face and say that again." - Chloé

"And you- ("Boop" - Chloé) -Hey!" - Marinette got booped on her nose by Chloé's paint covered finger

"I admit it was fun... to some extent. Now lets act like this never happened." - Chloé getting ready to leave

"How the hell did you get Chloé to paint?!" - Alix snapping out of her surprise, which caused Chloé to get startled and trip, knocking the paint onto Marinette and herself in the process

"Well... that was a colorful entrance." - Marinette now covered in blue, pink, green and red paint

"Utterly Ridiculous!" - Chloé now covered in yellow, dark green, and blue paint

"Ooops?" - Alix shrugging her shoulders

*facepalms* - Kagami

… … …

Marinette and Chloé had to walk around school covered in paint, definitely getting a few awkward stares from the other kids. About an hour later, each pair of students presented their shared work of art. When Marinette and Chloé went up, both holding their masterpiece while still covered in paint, stunned the other students.(Not because Chloé was 1. covered in paint, 2. actually carrying the painting, and 3. had a smile on her face) Needless to say they got an A+, and for the rest of the day Marinette, Chloé, Alix and Kagami hung out laughing and having fun. Not long after that the other kids started making bets on who Marinette would befriend next, and how long it would take for that someone to be an instant friend.

Chloé ended up spending a lot more time with the GPS and eventually...

The girls sat around in a circle within Marinette's room with all the lights off, only having a single lamp in the center of the room to add an ominous glow

"Are you ready to take the oath?" - Alix

"Yes, but why do we have to make it look like some utterly ridiculous ritual summoning?" - Chloe

"I agree with Chloé, I'm not allowed to summon the unnatural or paranormal." - Kagami

"Well, let's forget the paranormal stuff for now, ehem. Chloé Bourgeois, do you promise to always have our backs..." - Marinette

"Through the good and the bad..." - Alix

"To say the truth and nothing but the truth." - Kagami

"Wrong oath Kagami." - Marinette whispering to Kagami

"...... To always stay on the path that is straight and true..." - Kagami

"To uphold the justice in this crazy world..." - Alix

"And to guide those who have abandoned the light... Are you ready to join the GPS?" - Marinette

"Yes." - Chloé

"Girls, time to eat- ... Marinette, please tell me you aren't summoning the unnatural like Harley did that one time." - Selina just opening the door and seeing basically a ritual gathering

"In mom's defense, she was trying to get rid of the spooky spirit." - Marinette

"That was from a story Ed made up that one time, you wouldn't stop seeing the shadows ‘moving’, and then Harley thought she saw them move, and she ended up doing a ritual to get rid of it, but we ended up with the cursed toaster ghost. And now all bread we toast is burnt back home." - Selina

"... But burnt toast is the best!" - Marinette

"Ivy told you that it would make you grow quicker, which then tricked you into liking burnt toast, which isn't tasty at all." - Selina

"*dramatic gasp* You Take That Back!" - Marinette

"Nope, now come down in 3 so we can eat." - Selina closed the door and walked away

"You girls agree with me right?" - Marinette turning to her friends

"... Marinette, how can you think burnt toast is good?!" - Alix

"It's... burnt." - Kagami

"Ehhh, it's okay." - Chloé

"Thank You!" - Marinette hugging Chloé

"... un-second thought, I retract my ‘yes’ to that oath." - Chloé

"Too late." - Kagami

"You're stuck with us..." - Alix then leaned over and whispered in Chloé's ear - "Foreverrrrr."

……… ……… ………

After they had their food they went back up to Marinette's (ritual free) room and started playing Ultimate Mecha Strike 2.

After a few rounds of Marinette dominating Ultimate Mecha Slaughter Strike 2, they moved on to watching some Jurassic Park

"So... your mom cursed your toaster?" - Chloé

"... maybe." - Marinette

"Honestly though, who in their right mind likes burnt toast?" - Alix

"Apparently Marinette." - Kagami

"It's kinda like thin burnt rice crispy treats, just minus the sugar." - Marinette

"*dramatic gasp* You Take That Back Right Now." - Alix

"You don't even know what rice crispy treats are, do you." - Marinette now looking away from the TV and directly at Alix

"Not a clue." - Alix

"It's an American treat, it's actually really good, not to sweet, and not to crunchy." - Chloé

"This is why you are part of the GPS." - Marinette hugging Chloé - "You understand most red blooded American treats, and for that I give you my thanks." - Marinette now starting to tear up

"What are we, chop liver?" - Kagami pointing to Alix and herself

"Well unlike you two, I have seen the other side... I swear, they're all hillbillies, and they live in the worst weather ever! Sunshine state my ass, more like out door saunas 24/7." - Chloé ended up mumbling her last few words

"... That's Florida, and it's not that bad, it never gets hotter than 115°F, and that's during summer." - Marinette

"... No wonder you like burnt toast... your brains were burnt with it." - Alix

"I didn't live in Florida, I lived in New Jersey, and the weather is better there." - Marinette

"That's what she said." - Kagami stuffing her face with popcorn

……… ……… ………

Over the course of the next few months Marinette taught the GPS all she knew about parkour and self-defense, at first they wondered why she knew so many different techniques of self-defense, until she explained where she grew up had a few unpleasant people. They still think she's meta.

When Winter rolled around she was to head back to Gotham for the next month and a half. She was packed and ready when the GPS burst into her room.

"Don't leave! I need an Ice skating buddie!" - Alix clinging to Marinette

"You have Chloé and Kagami, besides, I'm pretty sure Kagami is better on the ice than I am." - Marinette accepting the fact she won't be getting Alix off her anytime soon

"It's Not The Same!" - Alix becoming a human koala on Marinette's back

"She's going to see her family, show some restraint!" - Chloé detaching Alix from Marinette

"No!" - Alix getting out of Chloé's grip and reattaching herself to Marinette

"There's a new attraction with a big ramp jump for the ice skating rink." - Kagami on her phone

"Really?! Let me see!" - Alix detaching herself to look at Kagami's phone, only to see the normal boring ice skating rink - "You tricked me." - Alix gave Kagami the stink eye

"It got you off of Marinette at least." - Kagami putting her phone away

"I'm gonna miss you girls." - Marinette gave them a big hug

"You better not do anything stupid while you're back home." - Chloé

"I would never." - Marinette thinking of the time she ran from the Bat-Birds

"What city in New Jersey do you live in again?" - Alix

"That's-" - Marinette

"Kitten you all set for Gotham?" - Selina opened the door and saw Marinette in a big hug with the girls - "Oh, you girls are here, hope you said your goodbyes because we're leaving in 10 minutes." - She then closed the door to make sure everything was ready downstairs

"... ... ..." - Chloé/Alix/Kagami - "You live where?"

"Gotham...?" - Marinette slowly backing up to grab her luggage and make her way to the door

"Oh hell No!" - Kagami standing between Marinette and the door

"You're staying!" - Alix clinging to Marinette again

"Gotham's a death trap!!!" - Chloé joining Alix and clinging to Marinette

... ... ...

After some convincing the girls let Marinette go, and she was now on the plane that would take her back home.

"... They really think Gotham's a death trap?" - Selina relaxing in the first class seats she got them.

"It's not that bad is it? I had asked them what they thought could even go wrong." - Marinette

"... Well literally everything can go wrong in Gotham... It's not to late to get off actually." - Selina getting up

"Not you too!" - Marinette grabbing her Aunt's hand

"I'm joking Kitten... you are wearing the bullet proof vest under that coat right?" - Selina

"Of course." - Marinette

"Then we should be fine..." - Selina now sitting back down and looking 10 times more nervous than before

"..." - Marinette put her hands together and mumbled under her breath - "Please don't jinx it. Please don't jinx it. Please don't jinx it. Pleeeeease don't jinx it."

……………… They had an hour delay, had to switch flights and couldn't eat anything because it looked like it would give them food poisoning, and they didn't get a wink of sleep......... but they made it to Gotham in one piece... at 2 in the morning.

"You jinxed it." - Marinette dragging her luggage sleepily

"It can't get any worse now-" - Selina

"No!-" - As Marinette tried to stop her Aunt from finishing her sentence, a truck past by the curb and sent a blanket of powdered snow flying into them - "-say it..."

"...Okay, now it-" - Selina was cut off by Marinette stuffing her mouth with the last secret cookie she had

"Don't anger the jinx gods, please." - Marinette pleading to her Aunt

After Selina finished the secret cookie she called Ivy to pick them up. They waited about 15 minutes before Ivy, along with a sleeping Harley in the back seat, picked them up. As they got in the car Harley jolted awake

"Are we dere yet?" - Harley rubbing her eyes

"Yes, and in our snow covered glory we entered the car." - Marinette giving her mom a hug

"I missed yuh so much, it just hasn't been de same wit'outcha cupcake." - Harley returning the hug

"And what about me, did you miss me?" - Selina getting comfortable in the passenger seat

"Ehhh." - Harley tilted here hand from side to side as she continued to side hug Marinette

"... Have I ever told you how great you are at warm welcomes?" - Selina giving Harley the stink eye

"She didn't mean it, you know she has no filter at this hour." - Ivy pulling up to the stoplight

"In other words her honest opinion of me being back is ‘ehhh’, I'm glad she thinks so highly of me." - Selina resting her head on the window

The ride to their base was peaceful, they arrived and went to their rooms after Marinette gave her moms and aunt a goodnight hug. As Marinette went to sleep in her bed, Bud and Lou jumped onto the bed and curled up next to her, as she stroked their fur, she couldn't help but feel excited to spend time with her family and friends. She soon fell asleep in the calm silence of her room, the last thought she had before drifting off, was that she was happy to be back home.

·•·—–·•★•·–—·•·

Chapter 5 complete, hope you're all having a magnificent day, rockin' all the positive vibes and staying safe !BUG-OUT! 🐞💮🐞

〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜Tag List〜(꒪꒳꒪)〜

1st Place★: @jumpingjoy82

2nd Place★: @myazael

3rd Place★: @solangelo252

@fandom-trapped-03, @zorua-adorable, @blueblossombliss, @thefangirlwholiterallydies, @woe-is-me0, @lady-bee-fechin, @jayjayspixiepop, @kashlyn, @toodaloo-kangaroo, @buginetye, @our-preciousss, @vroomtaka, @alessialeone6997, @doll246 , @aestheticnpoetic, @moon5608, @moonlightstar64, @kking13

[neonacity]

Black Daisies: Chapter 3

Preview:

“Only the dead have seen the end of war.”

An NCT mafia AU with OT23. Summary: Working for the mafia comes with many layers. There’s excitement, violence, loss, and betrayals. Yet there’s also friendship, family, loyalty, and code. The last thing it needs? Love and all the complexities it brings.

TW: violence, death, mentions of drugs and other illegal activities. If you’re uncomfortable with any of these, feel free to skip. Author’s note: This is purely a work of fiction. In no way am I supporting all the illegal activities and behaviors that might be mentioned in the story nor am I implying that any member of NCT acts whichever way I may write them here--they’re all sweetiepies that need to be protected!

Chapter: 1/ First Stage

Chapter: 2/Overture

“What’s your favorite flower, noona?” The girl, barely the age of ten, looked up from her spot on the grass at the boy across from her. Her fingers slowed down from wreathing the buds of blooms she had gathered on her lap as she mulled over the question.

“Hmm… I like daisies.”

The raven-haired boy turned his head slightly to the side as if surprised by her answer. 

“Daisies? Why?”

“Why not?” The girl asked with a lilting laugh, her hands working again to finish her wreath.

“I dunno… I just…” His nose scrunched as he tried to look for the right words. For someone so young, he sure is someone who takes great care of what he says or does.

“Daisies are so plain… They don’t fit you.”

“Hey, that’s not true.” The girl moved to tuck her legs under her to find a more comfortable position. “They’re very pretty. Simple, but very pretty,” she bit the inside of her cheek for a bit as she remembered something. “Also, Mama told me they mean new beginnings. I like that very much.” 

“Mm…”

She looked up again at the apparent dissatisfaction of her playmate. He can be so stubborn sometimes. Even though he’s still a kid, he loves acting like a grown-up, especially in front of her. Still, she looks at him like a precious little brother so she decided to smile and humor him for now.

“What kind of flower do you think will fit me then?” 

The boy looked at the stalk he was playing between his fingers thoughtfully before giving a quiet answer.

“A rose.”

The silence enveloping the room was deafening. The situation was the exact opposite of the energy of the headquarters just an hour ago, with everyone looking so tense in their seats. I tried to look as small as possible on the quiet spot next to my computer, the best place where I can look as invisible as I can be. I felt the seat next to me creak and barely managed to break a smile as I looked up at the boy who took it. 

“Hey, Jaehyun.”

He gave me a slight nod, his dimples showing just a little bit as he quirked his lips into a tense smile. Even he looks nervous, and he’s not usually one to be affected by anything.

“Can I sit beside you?”

I gave a feeble wave of my hand to tell him yes, not really minding the quiet company for now. He’s usually such a calming presence to everyone, though he does seem a little off today more than usual. I saw his gaze move towards the front of the room where the woman in red was currently standing, her expression composed as usual. Nobody knows her name, only her alias, but even then, her face is a prominent one in the family.

From her looks, one can assume her to be in her early 30s. She had the composure and air that can rival the most cold-hearted of ice queens, evident from years of being trained in whatever she was designed to do. But while her face and presence are something that can make any man fall on their knees, she remains untouchable in a few ways. 

“It must be serious, huh?”

I looked back at the boy next to me in surprise. I was so deep into my thoughts I almost forgot he was still there.

“I’m sorry?”

His gaze didn’t move from the woman standing in front of the room. “It must be serious for her to be here… the mistress of the Don.”

My jaw tightened a little bit at the truth behind his words. The Don is not one who often shows his presence to everyone. Usually, it would be his advisers who will get in touch with any of us, a power move that has kept his presence—and that of his family—almost detached from the criminal empire he has built. Whenever he would call the rest for a meeting, however, she would always come first to herald his arrival, like an Angel of Death opening the paths for the Devil himself. 

“Yeah… must be,” I croaked, barely finding my voice. As if on cue, the steel doors of the headquarters opened, causing everyone to either freeze on their seat or slightly flinch. I tried my best to keep my head down, my peripheral vision barely catching the black coat of the man who walked into the room with a choking presence.

For a moment, no sound other than heavy footsteps were heard on the expansive floor. Nobody dared to breathe until the Don spoke. He took the spot in front of the room, his mistress moving slightly to the side to give him way. 

Eyes like a hawk scanned the cluster of men and boys in front of him. His eyes barely touched the spot where I was, but I knew… I knew that was more than enough. 

“I called you here today to give an important announcement,” he finally spoke, his voice steady, commanding. He need not raise it with how quiet everyone was. 

“As all of you know, this family has a long history. My leadership was passed down to me by my father, and him, by his father before him. As much as I take pride from being its head for decades, the time has finally come for some new blood, if I must say, to run it.”

Cold seeped into my veins at his words until they sank to the pits of my stomach. Around me, all the members started giving subtle confused looks at each other.

“I have come to announce that I am stepping down from my position as Head of the Family.”

My heart raced, blood pumping loudly in my ears. The members did not dare say anything, though the glances they exchanged told me they’re much in shock as I am. Unfortunately, that’s not the only bomb that was about to be dropped tonight.

“I’m sure everyone here is aware of the tradition of our family. By our law, leadership shall be automatically passed down to the ruling head’s heir,” he stopped, his stern gaze sweeping over the crowd in front of him again. “To my great disappointment, however, my successor refused to accept their birthright.” 

My heart started racing faster than it had already been, the organ working so hard it felt like it would burst through my chest.

“Because of that, I am opening the position to all members of the family. Capos, generals, and soldiers alike. Each and every one of you here is a candidate to be the next head of the family.” 

...until it stopped working altogether. 

For the first time since he came in, my eyes snapped towards the man in front of the room. I was not the only one giving him the same look—everyone was shocked to silence as they processed his words. 

“The rules are simple. If you want to be considered, you should come up with something that can bring glory to the family. Add to our wealth, our influence, or power, I do not care. But it must be done with discretion, so that our identity is not betrayed to normal society and our rivals. Other than that…you are free to do anything you like.”

At that, his mistress stepped a little closer to him once again. She spoke in a well-rehearsed tone, devoid of emotions. For a half-second though, her eyes seemed to flicker with something else. I'm not sure if it was just my imagination, but her gaze momentarily stopped on me and Jaehyun before snapping back to the rest of the crowd. 

“Everyone here has two months to work on whatever plan they have in mind. We will deliberate who will take the position of the head after that.” 

“Wait—” 

Taeyong, who has barely moved a muscle on his seat since the announcement, finally stood up. His perfect features looked strained with worry as he addressed the woman. 

“When you say… you can do anything you like…” his gaze moved towards the Don, but it was the female who gave him his answer.

“Anything you like. The family code is waived for the next two months."

"No betrayal… or death of a brother shall be held against any of you.”

Chapter 4: Crescendo

[aficwhore]

Truth Is (Chapter 2)

Chapter 2: In the Moonlight

Frankie “Catfish” Morales x F!reader

Summary: After Benny’s fight, Chipmunk and Frankie bicker and have a heated argument, leading to something unexpected. When the moment passes the gang goes back to ‘Chip’s’ place to prepare for Colombia in the morning. Fish and ‘Chip’ reunite in the moonlight, but not for long. 

Word count: 4.9K

Warnings: explicit language, blood, violence, guns/weapons, lots of angst and emotions, infidelity, smut, sexual innuendos, drinking, mentions of drugs, talk of death, and talk of mental health(PTSD and depression).

A/N: I was so excited to start this new part, I had no exact plan on how I want it to go, but I went with what I was feeling in the moment. On a Side note THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR 100 FOLLOWERS, you all are so special to me <3.

“And the winner is!” The announcer yelled, his voice echoing through the arena, pausing just enough to make us anxious, “Ben Miller!” He then raised the hand which held Benny’s arm, to showcase the successor.

In seconds you could hear Will, “Yeah! That’s my baby brother!” followed by proud roars, ours being the loudest in the crowd. I jumped from my seat and started jumping up and down. Too distracted by my glee, I didn’t notice Frankie had stood up from next to me. Once I saw him from the corner of my eye, he picked me up, jumping with me pressed to him, Santi and Tom cheering and playfully slapping each other and Will. 

Though the whole room was bursting with noise and people, when I made eye contact with Francisco, it felt like the whole world stopped. As if we were the only ones here. His smile slowly dropped into a face conflicted with lust and other emotions, I guess mine did the same. He slowly released me, placing me back on my feet, his eyes still bore into mine. 

After a few seconds, his eyes flickered down to my lips. He leaned closer to me, attempting to bring his lips to mine. Feeling my heart stop when his lips lightly brushed mine, I quickly pull away, before our lips could fully meet. Clearing my throat, “We should hurry up and congratulate Benny, then we can all go rest at my house.” 

Fish’s expression read nothing but confusion and sadness. “I-uh, yeah sure.” I swiftly turned to find the boys, but they had already started to make their way through the crowd and back to the locker room. 

My body began to buzz with emotions, not knowing how to feel in this moment. I didn't quite understand why I pulled away, I wanted nothing more than to kiss him, but something didn’t feel right. The timing maybe, or even just the setting, or maybe the fact that I haven’t had closure from that one night many months ago. 

Trying to snap out of my thoughts, I walked a little faster to catch up, hopefully leaving Frankie behind so I could shake this feeling. As I swiftly made it back into the locker room I saw the rest of them surrounding Benny on the bench and making jokes, while Will held a towel to his face, collecting the blood dripping from his split eyebrow.

“Chippy!” the younger Miller exclaimed when his eyes made contact with mine. “Sad to see I didn’t lose?” he questioned with a smirk playing on his lips. 

Shaking my head and laughing, I glided over to him, taking over for Will, and pulling the towel away, examining the cut. “You may have won, but this sure does look nasty Benny Boy.” I light heartedly explained.

“Then it’s a good thing you’re here to patch me up.” He chuckled, a small pleading look in his eyes.

I quickly turned to Will “If I’m gonna fix this, I’m gonna need a first aid kit.” All he did was nod before trailing off the grab one. 

Before I could realize Frankie was in the room with us I heard, “You did great out there kid.” He gave him a nod of approval. “Honestly was surprised, the other guy was a lot bigger than you, which I didn’t think was possible.” 

Benny burst into laughter, Frankie, Santi, and Tom joining in as Will came back and handed me the kit. “Alright boys, I think we should give Mr. BigShot here, a break.” I suggested, opening the kit and pulling out some alcohol pads, gauze, and some bandaids. They all nodded and filed out the back door into the parking lot.

As I began to dab at Benny’s eyebrow, he flinched. “So, you gonna finally tell Fish about everything? You know, since now you guys are kinda talking again?”

“Ben...No, I can’t. You know that. Only you and your brother know.” I explained, attempting to use butterfly tape to seal the cut closed. Carefully, I secured the tape with a bandaid over it, making sure to be gentle as Benny sat perfectly still in front of me, staring at me.

“Fish would be understanding, maybe even regretful with how he acted. If you just told him, he would realize how dumb everything was!” The kid chirped in a hopeful tone.

With a frustrated sigh, I spoke. “No Benny, I don’t think it’s worth it, because I’m not over how he handled it all.” I turned away from him, picking up the trash from the first aid kit.

He tried to convince me again, reaching up for my shoulder. “But you won't even give it a chance, what if-” 

“No! I already said no! Leave it alone! If I want to, then I will do it when I want to!” I shouted, letting my anger out. I yanked out of his grip, causing a sad look to appear on his slightly tattered face. He stayed silent, making me feel quite bad for raising my voice. “Look hun, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to snap. Just so many emotions were awoken today. You can’t blame me.”

He quietly shook his head and stood up. Towering over me, he stepped towards me and wrapped his big and long arms around me, securing me in a well-needed hug. “I’m sorry, I pushed it, I shouldn’t have. I get it, you need time to process and heal. Don’t apologize, I love you Chip.” 

“I love you too B.” I hugged him back for a brief moment. “But please, for the love of all things holy, go take a shower.” I tilted back smiling up at him, reaching up and pinching my nose shut to make fun of him.

“That’s rude.” He scoffed with a smile on his lips. “I’ll see you tonight at your’s, right?” He asked as he gathered his things, heading off to the showers.

I nodded, waving and spinning around to leave out the back. When I walked through the door, I was greeted with Frankie. He was leaning against the wall next to the door. I glanced around, in hopes to find the others, but they all had vanished.

“Hey, I wanted to talk to you.” He spoke, pushing himself off the wall and towards me. I nonchalantly crossed my arms, still looking around.

“What about the others?” I inquired, wanting to avoid this conversation.

“They left, I told them I would drive you home and meet them there after they grab everything.” He revealed, taking in an encouraging breath. “But I wanted to talk to you about something, about us. To be exact.” He paused, stretching his hand out, behind his neck. As he began to sheepishly rub the back of his neck, he continued. “Look, I know things happened very badly, and I could’ve listened. And if I did, maybe we would- I don’t know, maybe we would still be together. But if you just told me the truth-”

“Excuse me? I know you are not trying to apologize and then still say its my fault I didn’t tell you everything?” I interrupted angrily. 

His body tensed, I could physically see the anger arising in him. “Would you just shut up and let me talk?” He spat, making me slightly jump in my skin. “This is another reason why things happened the way they did, you don’t know when to stop and be quiet.”

“You know what, fuck you.” I reacted, “Want to know what I was keeping from you? Want to finally know the goddamned truth? Well Dr. Philips is my fucking therapist.” His face contorted with confusion. “I was getting help, because I was getting worse again. The nightmares came back, and so did the depression, but I was too ashamed of telling anyone. So Fuck off Frankie.” 

Twisting around, I began to make my way out to the street. “Nena (babygirl), damn it, please, I’m sorry. I-I didn’t know.” He pleaded from behind me. 

Completely ignoring him, I kept walking in the direction of my apartment, even though it was blocks, maybe even miles away. When I heard his footsteps get closer, I sped up, trying to lose him once again. Then finally, it was quiet, except the sound of my own feet on the sidewalk and the bustle of the city.

After walking for a few more minutes, my anger calmed, until I heard a car pull up and drive slowly next to me. 

“Por favor (please), get in the car.” Francisco’s voice came from the window of the car. I acted as if I didn’t hear anyone and kept walking, facing straight ahead. “Stop being stubborn and get in! You can’t walk all the way home, it’s going to get dark!”

I rolled my eyes, still ignoring him. Then I no longer could hear the car, which piqued my curiosity, had he really given up that easily? I slowed my pace and as I turned my head to glance behind me, I was lifted into the air. “Hey! Put me down! Help! Help!” I screamed.

“Would you cut it out!” Frankie shouted, struggling to hold on to me as I swung and flailed in his arms. 

“I’m being kidnapped! Someone help!” I kept yelling. “Save me-” My voice being muted as he clamped a firm hand over my mouth, continuing to drag me into his car. As he was forcing me to sit in the passenger side, he yelped. “I know you did not just bite me!”

I huffed, “Well if you weren't trying to abduct me, I wouldn't have to!” His hand reached over me to buckle the seat belt around me, I leaned forward, attempting to bite him again. 

“What are you?! A fucking piranha?!” He screeched, yanking back.

Though he pulled back, his face was still inches away from mine. Our eyes met again. Our feud seemed to melt away with each passing second that his eyes bore into mine. I no longer wanted to put up a fight. Every inch of me ached for me to forgive him and make up, but I couldn’t. No matter how badly I wished to, I knew that our split wasn’t my fault, nor his, but its both of our faults for being so stubborn. 

“Baby,” He spoke softly, pulling me back to reality. His gorgeous brown eyes still locked on mine. His lips lay slightly open, fanning his breath across my face. His breath smelled like mint, it mixed with his scent. He always smelled woodsy, like pine and bergamot. I had missed his intoxicating smell for so long, that I wanted to revel in it, even just for a few seconds. 

I reached out my hand, letting it carefully caress his cheek, his stubble rough against my palm. He didn’t move, he stayed just a hand’s length away, allowing me to sweep my fingers along his cheek, down his neck, and to the collar of the shirt he wore. I gripped the ring of fabric and tugged him forward, crashing his pillowy lips against mine. 

It wasn’t a sweet kiss, it was a needy, rough kiss. Our teeth clashed as our lips parted, inviting each other in. Our tongues swept across each other as one of his hands tangled into my hair and the other gripping my jaw, coaxing me to open up more for him.

It felt like sweet relief, longing and pining had been all forgotten. The man I missed so much, was right in front of me, touching me, kissing me, which I dreamed of for nights on end. 

When I let go of his shirt and began to trail my hand lower, Frankie released my jaw and stopped my hand. He broke the kiss, offering a light chuckle when I whined at the loss of contact. 

“You have no idea how much I missed that. How much I missed you. I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry I didn’t respect your boundaries and that you weren’t ready to tell me.” He whispered with worry, placing his forehead on mine, rubbing his nose against my nose. I closed my eyes taking in the feeling. He laced his fingers with mine, with the hand that still held it to his chest. 

“I know Francisco, I’m sorry too. I should’ve told you, I could've still had you all these past months if I just got over myself and came clean.” I choked out, trying to keep calm.

He squeezed my hand, “Its okay, it’s over now. Please tell me its over.” It sounded like he was close to crying.

I nodded quickly, not wanting to speak, because if I did, I know my voice would crack with emotion. 

He remained crouched halfway into the passenger side, forehead to forehead with me. “Amor (love), they're going to make it to my house before I do.” I giggled, regretting my words moments later when we split. He nodded with a smile, stepped back and shut my door. He hurried around and got back in, starting the engine and making his way to my apartment. 

During the drive he reached over, taking my hand in his, and glancing over every once in a while to make sure I was okay. 

We sat in comfortable silence, until he spoke up. “I still have to run by my place and grab my things, do you mind if we stop on the way?” 

“Not at all.” I responded, bringing up our joined hands, to kiss the back of his. 

We rushed to his place, I stayed in the car as he ran in and gathered what he needed. It all seemed a blur, the euphoria from the event minutes before clouding my brain. 

When we made it back to my place it was dark and everyone was already inside, I guess one of the Miller’s used their spare key to get in. I helped Frankie grab his bags and head inside with them. As we walked through the door, the rest of the team was huddled on my couch, scarfing down pizza which I assume Benny bought. They glanced up and waved quickly before going back to eating and watching whatever they were playing on the TV. I set Fish’s stuff down with the other’s and walked further into the living room to find that the boys had laid out their blankets and pillows for the night already. 

I sat on the floor in front of the boys and grabbed a slice of pizza while Frankie set up his own area to sleep. When he finished, he strolled over and sat next to me. 

For the rest of the movie they guys were watching, we ate and chatted until we got tired and were ready for bed. I made sure to pick up the mess we made and helped the boys get comfy. When they were all laid down and falling fast asleep like children, I smiled to myself as I turned off the lights and headed to my room to turn in for the night. 

I tiptoed quietly, careful not to wake them as I walked to the laundry room and changed into my sleep clothes. Right as I made it back to my room, a hand reached out and covered my mouth to muffle the startled scream I was about to let out. 

“Its me, its just me.” Frankie’s voice contrasted with the silence of the room. I relaxed, turning around to face him. It was dark but I could still see some of his features with the help of the moonlight coming through the windows. 

His eyes crinkled with a smile, his teeth shining brightly. I couldn’t help but lean forward and kiss him. This kiss was loving and gentle. His lips moved against mine as I let my arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer. Feeling him flush against me, made my skin become hot with want and need. 

He seemed to notice because he deepened the kiss, pushing me further into my room and shutting the door behind us. In seconds he spun us around and pressed me against the wall. He tilted his head back to look at me, not daring to move, except his arm.

His cool hand trailed up my thigh, dragging my sleepshirt with it. His fingers leave goosebumps in their wake. The material bunching on my hip, revealing the shorts I had on. I felt breathless from his touch as his index finger dipped into the waistband, lightly tugging on it. “Please tell me you need this as much as I do cariño.” He pauses with his nose nudging the side of my jaw, waiting for a response.

“Yes, pl-please, just touch me Frankie.” I stuttered, feeling my heart beat harder for him. In an instant, he drug the shorts down my legs, following them, and kissing the skin they surpassed. Once they were off and tossed away, he began his journey back up, but stopping at my stomach. I gasped as he kissed and licked at the hem of my panties, tasting the fabric and soft tummy underneath.

Through his eyelashes, he looked up and met my admiring gaze. My skin burned with desire, as if his touch was the only cure.

With little effort he wrapped one of his hands around my calf, pulling it up, and placing it over his shoulder, causing me to push my weight against the wall behind me. A small smirk finds its way to his face as he moves my panties to the side. Feeling vulnerable and exposed, I carded my hand through his hair, silently begging him to touch me.

“Paciencia mi amor (Patience my love).” his breath ghosted over my wet core, making me whimper with need. And at that moment he dipped down, placing a sloppy kiss where I wanted him most.

He placed another open mouth kiss on my mound, letting his tongue peak out and part me. My breath hitched when I felt his warm tongue flick at my aching clit. He did it again, causing me to buck my hips, asking for more friction. As he continued, slowly beginning to roll and suck on the bundle of nerves, he ran his hands up the back of my thighs, gripping my ass and pulling more of my weight onto his shoulders. 

He sucked harder, bringing a hand forward, and dipping his fingers into my wetness. “Fuck, I missed your sweet taste.” He murmured from between my legs, scissoring me open with his fingers. A moan escaped my lips, not loud, but enough to spur Frankie on. He started to go faster, working me closer and closer to the edge. His hot breath encompassing my wet heat when he would open his mouth to lick a broad stripe up my slit.

Losing focus on all things other than the man situated at my cunt, I could feel him swiping his tongue across my lips, as if he was spelling something. His movements were too intricate for me to understand, if he was spelling. 

I could feel a mix of my arousal and his spit start to drip down my thigh, sending a shiver up my spine. He broke away from my wetness, and chased the leaking fluid, catching it with his tongue, licking and sucking up the trail slowly, teasing me, making me wait longer for a release. 

My head started to spin with lust, nothing but quiet whimpers and his name leaving my mouth. “Please, stop teasing m-” I was cut off by him curling his fingers and speeding up. He placed his mouth back on me, determined to make me finish. I tugged his hair on accident, the pleasure surging through my body.

He moaned into me from my actions, vibrations radiating through me, allowing the coil in my stomach to tighten quickly. “Yes, don’t stop,” I moaned, trying to keep my voice low. Even though my body burned for me to scream in ecstasy, there were four other men in my living room asleep.

He curled his fingers again, hitting my g-spot. A loud moan eludes me, I quickly bring my hand, free of his hair, up to my lips, biting the skin on the back, in hopes of muffling my noises.

Just as I thought I had it under control, the coil tightened to its max, and snapped. I felt my legs rush with heat and wetness. MY legs threatened to give out as Frankie kept going, prolonging the white, hot, orgasm ripping through me. He gripped my ass again, holding me up, he could feel my legs tremble around him. 

Feeling a little too sensitive I slightly jerked away, slowing coming down from cloud nine. He took this as a sign to stop, he pulled back, placed a gentle kiss to my lips for the last time. He peered up at me, watching my relaxed face come back to reality, and stroking my thighs. 

As my breathing calmed, I looked down, finding my handsome Frankie, staring at me with adoration in his eyes and a smile on his face. I picked my leg off his shoulder, leaned over and grabbed his face in my hands, tugging him up to meet me, embracing him in a passionate and strong kiss. 

I could taste myself on his lips, his face wet with my slick, letting our lips glide smoothly against each other. He placed his hands back on my ass, walking back towards the bed, and me still pressed to him.

His knees backed into the edge of the frame, but he still stood tall. I broke the kiss, a seductive smile on my lips. I grabbed the hem of my shirt, pulling it up and over my head, showing my bare chest to him. I tossed the shirt away and stepped out of my soaked panties, kicking them into the abyss of the dark room.

Frankie watched me intently, never taking his eyes off my frame. I came close to him, my fingers playing with this shirt. In seconds he tore off his shirt and began to yank his shorts and underwear down. Once they pooled at his feet, I leaned into him, kissing his jaw, nipping at the skin while my hand found his naked member, hard and leaking. His breath caught in his throat when I lightly stroked him. 

“I’m not go-going to last long baby, its been too long.” He choked out, struggling to keep his cool. I nodded, placing one last kiss to his neck. I stepped next to him, to get on the bed. I got on my knees, looking back to make sure he was watching me. As we made eye contact, I slowly bent forward, stretching my arms out straight in front of me. I guided my chest down and into the mattress, leaving my ass in the air and on display for him. 

I relaxed my face into the covers, feeling him touching my thighs and ass, lightly pinching the skin as he traveled up the skin. 

“Mierda (shit), all for me?” he questioned with a playful slap to my right cheek, luring a soft moan from me.

“Yes, all for you Frankie, always.” I responded, shaking my ass, hoping he would fuck me soon. The bed dipped behind my knees as he joined me. Thats when I felt his hard cock pressed to my cunt. He tapped himself on my clit, causing me to surge forward at the contact. 

He chuckled, “Are you sure princesa?” as he ran his head through my folds, eliciting a moan from me.

“Yes, Jesus Frankie, just fuck me already.” I growled frustratedly.

At my command, he lined himself up at my entrance and pushed into me. The stretch was borderline painful, it had been months since I'd taken him, and he was already bigger than all my exes.

Once he bottomed out, he gripped my hip and snaked his free arm around me, pulling me up and flush against his chest. He began to kiss and suck my neck, slowly rocking into me. His hand stayed at the base of my neck, splayed across my collarbones, pressing me into him. 

“Faster,” I whined, feeling him move quicker and more deliberately. His breath tickled my ear as he groaned, feeling me tightly wrapped around him.

As his pace quickened, I reached a hand behind me and braced it on his upper thigh, attempting to meet his hips. With a particularly aimed thrust, I moaned fairly loud, being consumed by the pleasure.

“Shh,” He spoke between grunts, “Unless you want the boys to know that I'm balls deep in you, filling you up with my cock.” He gave a hard thrust, never losing his pace. My free hand slapped my mouth, covering my cries.

Our hips sped up, meeting more passionately, with more meaning. With every thrust, all problems between us seemed to dissipate. I no longer cared about all things before tonight. All that mattered was him, us, and this moment. Being connected to him again never felt so good.

All that could be heard in the silence was the snap of his hips against mine, the small noises we let escape us, and the quiet creak of the bed below us. The moonlight illuminated our entangled bodies, the sweat gleaming in the night. 

The coil in my stomach tightening again, the waves of pleasure threatening to spill over the edge. Frankie had to be getting close, his thrusts became more erratic. He reached his hand from hip, down to my clit, rubbing in tight circles, trying to bring me to the brink with him.

“Fuck you're so tight, w-where do you-” He questioned until I cut him off.

“Cum in me baby.” I moaned, feeling my orgasm take over, the waves of bliss crashing down, taking me with it. Whiteness blinded my vision as my body convulsed against his chest. 

He thrusted a few more times before he let out a broken grunt, pumping his load into me, mixing our hot releases together, letting them seep out and down our legs. 

I turned my head to the side, reaching back and grabbing the back of Frankie’s head, pulling him into a kiss as we calmed down. The smell of sex filling our senses. He slowly pulled out causing me to whine at the loss of him. 

When we finally recovered, he got off the bed, taking me with him to the bathroom. He sat me on the sink, opened the cabinet underneath and grabbed a cloth, coming back up to wet it. Then he gently spread my thighs apart, cleaning up the remnants of the act. He then cleaned himself.

“You should go to the bathroom while I grab our pajamas.” He spoke softly, pressing a kiss to my lips and turned to scavenge for our clothes we had lost in the dark corners of my room. 

I hopped off the counter and sat on the toilet. I went to the bathroom, but began to feel exhausted. My eyelids felt heavy, drooping over my eyes.

Frankie came back in, only dressed in his boxers, my clothes in his hand. “I know love, let’s get you dressed so we can sleep.” He whispered, helping me up and helped me get dressed. His face had an unreadable expression, what could he be thinking? All was forgotten when he picked me up bridal style and led us to my bed, he pulled the covers back and laid me down, tucking me in. 

He wondered around the bed and got in behind me. He pulled me to his chest as sleep began to drag me under. His arm laid across my body and his hand splayed across my chest, feeling my heartbeat. Thats all I could process as I fell more deeply into slumber.

It may have been a dream but I felt him lean over, kiss my temple and whisper “I’m sorry for everything.” And everything went peacefully dark.

I couldn't tell how long I was asleep until someone began to shake me. “Chip, get up, it’s time to leave.” I groaned, not wanting to get out of the comfort of my bed and the comfort of Frankie next to me, or so I thought. 

My eyes snapped open to find Ben crouched next to the bed, face to face with me. I jolted up with surprise, quickly looking around to find Frankie, only to be disappointed. 

“Woah woah! Calm down, it’s Benny.” The man child looked frightened. 

I sighed, maybe it was a good thing Fish wasn’t in here, it could make a lot of questions amongst the team arise. But when did he leave? 

“Oh sorry Ben, I-I was sleeping too hard,” I lied. 

“It seems so,” he chuckled “Breakfast is ready, everyone is up and ready.” He explained. I nodded and he left, allowing me privacy to change. I quickly threw on my cargo pants and shirt, rushing to grab my packed bags. I brushed my teeth and hair in a hurry. I headed straight past everyone in the kitchen, out the door to throw my things in the truck.

When I came back in, everyone was staring at me. But I only made eye contact with one of them, Frankie. And the look on his face pained me, his expression was full of regret.

TAGLIST

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@winter-fox-queen​

@supernaturalgirl​

@actual-spawn-of-satan​

@hnt-escape

@toomanystoriessolittletime​

*if your user has a strike through, it wouldn’t let me tag you*

[onewithnomightypowers]

clandestine (chapter 7)

PAIRING: Tom Holland x fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Y/N is an up and coming actress, married to a once hotshot actor, Harrison (Haz). What happens when her co-star, Tom, makes her realise that she is stuck in a loveless marriage. A marriage starts crumbling and a new romance stars brewing.

chapter 7: rabbit hole

A/N: i do not encourage cheating. omg THE LAST CHAPTER!!!! i hope you guys like this chapter!! feedback is always appreciated. thanks for reading <3

warnings: drinking, cursing, hate comments

word count: 1.6k

important: bold and italic are character thoughts

series masterlist   main masterlist   chapter 6

Love, easy it comes and easy it goes. Y/N and Haz’ calamitous love had no tracks ahead of it. The only thing they could do was jump off the train before it crashed and burned. Y/N took that step and fell on Tom’s doorstep. When Haz saw her leave, he understood that hurt couldn’t save a dying soul, so he jumped too, causing their marriage to fall off a hill.

They left the hobbit’s room with a sea of change in their aura. Both had bloodshot eyes from all the rivers they swam through. “I will go settle the tab”, Haz said without meeting her eyes. Y/N walked towards her driver, Arnold, who was standing near the main entrance, eager to tell her about the situation outside.

“There is a herd of paparazzi out there, ma’am”, he said.

Y/N hummed in acknowledgment.

“Shall we go?” Haz walked over to them.

“Yeah”, her voice was small and dry.

Arnold opened the door and stayed ahead to make way for them in between the storm of people. They were all screaming something over one another, making it hard to understand. Haz and Y/N had their heads down, trying to hide the stained cheeks from the blinding lights. Haz clutched Y/N’s hand protectively, out of habit.

They made their way inside the car, parked not so far away from the pub.

“You can stay with me tonight, you’re leaving for New York tomorrow morning anyway”, Y/N said looking outside the window.

“It's fine Y/N, I can get a hotel room”

“No, I insist”, her eyes focused on the lamp heads passing them by.

“Okay, I’ll take the couch”

“You can sleep on the bed, with me”

Haz found Y/N’s hand in the dark backseat and squeezed it affectionately.

That night was the last time they slept together in the same bed. When Y/N woke up the next morning, he was already gone. He left a note on the refrigerator that read, ‘thank you for everything’. A bittersweet smile took over her face.

Y/N needed some time to herself, but she also needed to inform people about her decision. She craft an email to her manager, agent and her lawyer. All of them were sent the exact same email.

Harrison and I have decided to end our marriage. I would like to file for divorce as soon as possible, and the process should be civil. I will be unavailable for a few days, so do what you have to with the news.

Y/N

She also sent her parents that email but as a text on the family group chat.

It’s short and to the point, let’s hope they don’t call me with a million questions.

When it came to Tom, she noticed that he had sent her an image a few seconds ago. It was a screenshot of a TMZ article. The headline was, ‘Y/N left her movie premiere early to meet her husband’, it wasn’t jarring but the photo underneath the headline was. Haz was holding Y/N’s hand as tightly he physically could, both of their bodies looked tired and Y/N’s makeup was all messed up. She hadn’t noticed any of that in the moment, last night.

Tom sent her another text.

Tom: Are you ok?

Y/N: not really, I’m filing for divorce

Tom: oh, do you want me to come over?

Y/N: I think I want some time to myself right now

Y/N: I’ll probably watch Gilmore girls the whole weekend

Tom: ok, I’m here if you need anything

Tom: love you

Y/N: you too

---

On Monday, the news broke. The whole world now knew that their marriage was over. The news outlets tried their best to be creative with headlines.

‘Their kingdom has come and gone: Harrison and Y/N file for divorce’

‘Harrison and Y/N, Hollywood’s perfect couple not so perfect anymore’

These were some of the most impressive ones according to Y/N’s management team but they decided to keep it to themselves. No one had heard from Y/N since Saturday. Even though she had told them that she would be unavailable, they still sent emails, warning her to stay off social media sites, especially twitter, the creator of hate wagons.

Twitter was not kind to her at all. Their divorce was trending in the entertainment section. Many people thought that it was their right to comment on this situation. They had a lot to say, mostly about Y/N.

Y/N would often find herself diving into the rabbit hole of her trending tag. She would read almost everything they had to say about her, the good and the bad, but the bad overwhelmed the good.

‘She was only in it to get famous’

‘She ugly if I was Harrison then I would drop that ass too’

‘She is so fake’

‘Harrison is better off without her’

‘She was def cheating on him’

‘Why would someone even love Y/N’

She didn’t notice, but this was getting to her. She would constantly stare at her reflection, picking her appearance apart because someone on the internet called her ugly. Y/N would rethink everything she ever said in front of the media wondering whether she sounded fake or not. She would wake in the middle of the night, pacing like a ghost, thinking she didn’t deserve Tom at all and that he would realise soon enough.

All would be lost.

Even though she thought no one noticed that she was slowly losing her mind, Tom did. He would look at her touching her face, getting lost in deep thoughts. He could feel her tossing and turning in the bed, every night. He would look through her while she’s looking through her phone. Her leg would never stop fidgeting while at rest. He noticed everything.

He took it upon himself to save her from the demons. It was late evening, Tom picked Y/N up from the set. The whole ride home, Y/N was on her phone, mindlessly scrolling through her twitter, reading every inch and every corner. No words could escape her.

When they reached home Y/N informed Tom that she was going to take a shower. Tom was in the kitchen getting the food ready, when he saw Y/N’s phone unattended on the kitchen island. He was tempted to go through with his plan.

He picked up her phone and unlocked it, he knew her password. He went on deleting every social media app from her phone and also changed his contact DP on her phone. Earlier it was an embarrassing childhood photo, he changed it to a scanned Polaroid photo of them together.

Y/N came out with a towel tied up her head. She grabbed two plates from the cabinet and set them on the island.

“What are you making?” she asks him.

“Rice paper rolls”

“So we’re having Vietnamese today, interesting”, she grabbed her phone to check her Instagram.

Where the fuck are all my apps?

“I think my phone has some defect, the Instagram and twitter apps got deleted”, Y/N says vigorously swiping through her phone.

“That’s not a defect I did that”, Tom served the dinner.

“You did what? You have no right to go through my phone and delete apps without my permission, Tom.”

“It’s for your own good, all of that shit was getting to your head”, he said calmly.

“No it wasn’t” she poorly defended herself.

“Yes it was, you were letting some random divs tell you what you are worth. That’s fucked up, babe”

She lets out a loud grunt, filled with frustration.

They both ate in silence, only the crunch of vegetables audible.

After Tom was done with his dinner, he got up, placed his dish in the sink, picked up his coat from the sofa and walked towards the door. Y/N’s eyes never stopped following his figure.

“I think I should go back to my apartment”, before Y/N could reply, Tom was out of the door.

They didn’t talk for a day but Y/N realised how peaceful she felt without having other people’s opinions being fed to her constantly. She felt less insecure about her body, her personality and especially Tom.

He loves me so much that he was ready to invade my privacy to help me.

She decides to call Tom, noticing the unfamiliar photo on his contact. The phone rung, he picked it up on the second ring.

“You little shit changed your photo, huh” her smile was audible.

“I did and I’m sorry”

“No, I’m sorry. You were right, I do feel better with all the noise gone, but you know what would make me feel much better, you, here with me”

---

Tom came over almost instantly, it was like he was already halfway to her apartment when she called. They were on the couch, watching a movie on Y/N’s laptop. Y/N had her head on Tom’s lap and he was playing with her hair.

Holding her breath, Y/N slowly said, “You didn’t need to save me, you know”

“I know”, he replies nonchalantly.

“But the real question is, would you run away with me?”

“Of course, where to darling?”

“Somewhere no one can find us and it’s only the two of us”, she scrunches her face.

“Do you remember the first time we kissed, at the pub?”

“Yeah”, she replied, fondly remembering that moment.

“You said we should go to Ireland together and I said don’t make empty promises”

“Well, do you want to run away to Ireland with me?”

“Yes”, he bent downwards and kissed her softly.

THE END

@mysticapples17 @storybookholland @flqwsome  @hollandstanevans

[iwa1zumis]

“i love you and i like you”: passion and burnout in Haikyuu!! 

tw: discussions of self harm, anxiety, burnout and breakdowns. 

spoilers for the whole manga!! 

okay this is probably gnna be jflkafjdklfj all over the place, but i’ve been thinking a lot lately about the difference between loving and liking something, and how haikyuu emphasises the importance of both those feelings being present when pursuing a passion. 

a quick look at google (and i KNOW my college professors are cringing away in horror victor frankenstein-style @ my use of google definitions but jflajfsdk bear with me!!) demonstrates how often the concepts of love and like are conflated, with love her being framed as a sort of deeper or more intense like: “to like or enjoy very much” to be specific. but personally i’ve always thought there’s something a bit misleading about that kind of definition, since its absolutely possible to love something or someone without necessarily liking them. to take a personal example: i love debate. i debated through middle and high school, made captain of the debate team, and was constantly travelling to and fro for different tournaments. even before i started to debate formally i’d jump at the chance to do mini-debates in class, argue with and rebut parents and friends over meals and causal conversation.... you get the idea. i loved debate, and still love it dearly, but i honestly don’t think i particularly liked it much. tournaments would always fill me with the most INSANE kind of stress, i’d barely eat or sleep in the days leading up to a meet, and i’ve had more muffled bathroom breakdowns in between rebuttals than i can count. after my final year of high school, i decided against joining the debate at university. i knew that if i were to retain ANY love for the activity going into the future, i had to force myself to take a break. 

so what does this solipsistic tangent have to do with haikyuu, you ask? well i have no doubt that a vast majority of the players in the series love volleyball. they’re dedicated and passionate about it. they hunger for the chance to be put on the court. but do they like to play? 

1. oikawa: “i forgot that volleyball can be fun” 

ofc i wouldn’t be an oikawa stan worth my salt if i didn’t start this off with the (grand) king himself!! imo one of the reasons why oikawa is such a popular and well-loved character is his constant determination to keep moving forward and playing, even in the face of seemingly insurmountable opponents and adversities (”never forget my worthless pride”, anyone?). inevitably, all the hard work and practise he put into his craft has left him with a very carefully constructed, put together playstyle-- he’s the kind of player who knows how to bring the best out of each and every teammate on the court because of the amount of time he spends observing them and playing with them. it’s an outlook and playstyle best encapsulated in his now iconic line during the second karasuno v seijoh match: 

“Talent is something you make bloom, instinct is something you polish!” 

in my opinion the word “polish” it super significant here-- it explicitly singles out the years and years of hard work that set a foundation for his talent and instinct to shine. 

but what happens when they don’t shine? there’s no denying that oikawa is an incredibly skilled and intuitive player (something that hinata’s acknowledgment of him as the “great king” to kageyama’s “king” immediately sets out) but oikawa himself is acutely aware of the fact that he can never quite measure up to his long-time rival ushijima or his immensely talented protege kageyama. oikawa’s self described strategy to deal with opponents is to: 

“Hit it until it breaks” 

but what happens when hitting something again and again with your carefully honed, “polished” skills yields no results? imo there’s a very clear binary mentality drawn here-- either you hit it and it breaks, asserting your superiority; or you hit it and it doesn’t break, enforcing your inferiority. with each perceived loss against ushijima and kageyama, oikawa’s internalized logic holds his own weakness up to his own face, shaking his faith in himself as a player. if you’ll pardon the on-the-nose-metaphor: the whole “hitting it till it breaks” strategy is a two-way street, and oikawa has been hitting himself, metaphorically speaking, for a very long time. i have no doubt that he loved volleyball, passionately, through middle and high school. but with his inferiority complex growing in the face of constantly refuted results, i think he slowly began to like it less and less. 

so how does oikawa get his groove back? to answer that, we’ll have to turn to the post-timeskip chapters, particularly the two chapters that deal with oikawa and hinata’s unexpected meeting in Rio (372 and 373 for anyone curious!). while reminiscing with hinata over dinner, oikawa finally reveals the event that made him want to play volleyball (as a setter, to be exact)-- as a child, he watched veteran setter jose blanco step into a game and

“... inconspicuously help[ed] the ace get his bearings again... and then simply left the court.” 

oikawa’s reaction to blanco’s playstyle might just be one of my favourite panels in the chapter for how it conveys so much with such little space: 

the stammer of “i-i--”, which suggests a sense of resolve and determination forming in real time, finally coalesces into the determined declaration of “i wanna be a setter too!” what i took from this is that oikawa’s admiration for-- and liking of-- blanco expresses itself in the agency with which he makes his choice, in this case, actively deciding to be a setter so that he can support players on the court like blanco did. the liking that oikawa has here is therefore inherently linked to the agency and freedom he feels here-- freedom to choose his position, and how he wants his volleyball career to develop. 

this recollection of his childhood memories, and the subsequent game of beach volleyball that oikawa and hinata play afterwards, essentially push oikawa back into the mental and physical space of a child or beginner, as the manga demonstrates with panels of oikawa being forced to ditch his usual carefully developed, polished playstyle to learn the ropes of beach volleyball: 

ultimately concluding with the beautiful panel transition of oikawa, as a child AND adult, celebrating after a successful play: 

“It reminds me that-- I forgot that-- volleyball is fun.”

in a different country, playing a familiar game by slightly different rules and led back into the mentality and freedom of a novice after years of careful development, oikawa rediscovers his liking for the game. 

2. kageyama: “when you get strong, someone stronger will rise to meet you” 

moving on to the king of the court himself!! i’d argue that kageyama’s childhood memories and experiences of volleyball function almost oppositely to oikawa’s-- while oikawa has to re-access the sensation of being a beginner again to like the game along with loving it, kageyama’s process of coming to like and love volleyball come from moving away from his early experiences and into a new phase of playing-- specifically, his partnership with hinata. 

one of kageyama’s defining features is his individualism-- he’s both skilled and solitary enough to prefer to, as he puts it, “play every single position on the court”. notably, he wants to become a setter because: 

“[it’s] the one that touches the ball the most.”

in fact, i’d argue that kageyama’s “king of the court” attitude that he was known for in middle school is an extension of this individualistic mindset: he holds himself to extremely high standards, and expects his team-mates (as extensions of himself) to meet those very same standards. the similarities between his internal monologue and his commands to kindaichi in these two panels, for example, are strikingly, visibly similar: 

there’s that near-identical intonation of “move faster, jump higher!” that implies that the way he treats his teammates is just an extension of how he treats himself-- a deeply self-critical, miserable way, as it turns out. it’s telling that for the first few chapters of a manga in which characters’ eyes literally light up when they’re happy, passionate or excited, kageyama’s eyes are drawn as pitch black, even while he’s playing. 

imo the reason why hinata’s appearance, and their later partnership, is so significant for kageyama’s personal development is because he can’t treat hinata like an extension of himself. hinata challenges him and his preconcieved notions of the sport at every turn: first with his lightning-fast reflexes and raw intuition, and then with his determination to hit kageyama’s toss no matter what. in fact, the first time that kageyama’s eyes light up in the manga is, you guessed it, when he and hinata first pull off a successful “freak quick”: 

during the post-timeskip chapters we’re introduced to kageyama’s backstory in much greater detail: the way in which his grandfather fostered his passion for volleyball and the timing with which his grandfather’s illness and later death left kageyama increasingly alienated, thus further enforcing his individualist mentality. but what the chapter also gave us was an explicit confirmation of a theme that had been built up from the very beginning of the story, when kageyama’s grandfather tells him: 

“when you get really strong, i promise someone stronger will rise to meet you”

i’ve seen translations of the line that use both “meet” and “challenge”, and personally i’d have to say that i prefer “challenge” for what it implies-- even before hinata got strong enough to actually meet kageyama halfway he challenged him to move away from his pre-established mindset of doing everything himself, and into one where he actually comes to enjoy-- and like-- volleyball. 

3. hirugami: “maybe you’ve just had your fill”

hirugami’s case is kind of a strange one-- unlike oikawa and kageyama he’s not a major character, and his relationship with volleyball only gets a single backstory chapter as opposed to a series-long arc. but i personally ADORE his mini-arc for the things it has to say about burnout, passion and moving on. 

hirugami is introduced as the youngest member of a volleyball family-- his parents, older brother and older sister all play the sport. when explaining how he began to play himself, hirugami says: 

“... naturally, i started to play too. because i was good at it, and it was fun.” 

imo there are a lot of really interesting things to pick apart with this phrasing: the “naturally” implies a foregone conclusion but also a degree of passivity, like he himself recognises that he was swept up in his family’s influence. the “it was fun” coming AFTER “because i was good for it” also implies a degree of correlation, as though if he didn’t have the aptitude, he wouldn’t enjoy the game (a mindset markedly different to both oikawa and kageyama). as hirugami gets older, this correlation of being good ----> having fun ----> being able to play begins to reverse, and therefore manifest in increasingly self destructive ways: 

the main impetus for hirugami has now become not wanting to lose, which therefore requires a degree of heightened practise and self discipline in order to achieve. notably, having fun has been reduced to an afterthought, a state that might be achieved if he wins. 

the correlation of “winning” and “being good” is a slipperly slope to go down, though, something that becomes especially apparent after hirugami’s team lose a game. the frustration of being unable to reach his goal of winning manifests itself as not being “good enough”-- acting on this, hirugami seeks to punish himself for “messing up”: 

the close up panel of hirugami’s “confession” after hoshiumi confronts him hits particularly hard because it taps into a feeling that i’m sure almost all of us have felt at one point or another-- the realisation that something you once both loved AND liked is now only bringing you misery: 

ironically, it’s actually this acknowledgement of “not really liking volleyball that much” that acts as a catalyst for hirugami’s recovery from burnout. hoshiumi’s acknowledgement of, and reply to, hirugami’s state is seemingly simple but deeply freeing: 

and honestly, why not just quit? there’s nothing tethering hirugami to volleyball, certainly nothing as serious as life or death. personally my favourite part of this panel is hoshiumi’s description of volleyball as food from which hoshiumi has “eaten his fill”-- a lovely metaphor that re-contextualizes what could be seen as “time wasted” into something productive and indeed nourishing. 

when we check up on hirugami post time-skip, we find out that he has indeed quit playing volleyball in favour of going to veterinary school, but he’s seen watching the game between the jackals and adlers on his phone with an eager, fond smile on his face, implying that it was the act of moving away from the table (so to speak) after eating his fill that let him still hold on to a love and passion for the game, even though he is now interacting with it as a spectator instead of a player. and indeed that might just be why i love hirugami’s arc so much-- with it, haikyuu tells us that sometimes passion’s don’t need to be re-ignited in the same way. while oikawa and kageyama rediscover their love for, and liking of, the game through a return to childhood and the arrival of a new partner respectively, hirugami’s journey away from burnout comes from recognizing that he can step away from the volleyball court, and that the love and like will still remain. 

[melanielocke]

Lost in the Shadows - Epilogue

AO3

Taglist: @alastaircarstairsdefenselawyer @foxglove-airmid @alastair-esfandiyar-carstairs1 @justanormaldemon @styxdrawings @ipromiseiwillwrite @a-dream-dirty-and-bruised

Previous Chapter: Chapter 35

This is the epilogue and final chapter. While there are some loose ends and I might write a sequel one day, I have currently have no plans for one so it would take some time. As it is I'm working on a Frozen TLH story (chapter 1-3 are currently published), and one post CoI story titled "We bury the sunlight" so look out for those.

Alastair decided to move in with Jem at the end of the summer. He had managed to finish decorating his bedroom just in time for the first week of university, which he was excited about starting. He wasn’t sure why, but he’d expected Jem to be overbearing and constantly worrying about his mental health. He’d always thought that was what a psychiatrist did, he guessed, just like his father had always feared Jem would know about his alcoholism from just looking at him.

He’d learnt that wasn’t the case. Jem was a doctor, he couldn’t read minds, and although he was there for Alastair when he needed him, he was family and not his doctor, which was an important distinction. Jem gave him lots of space, and the ground rules were mainly about keeping everything clean, which was no problem. Jem also preferred it to know if someone he didn’t know was visiting, but that rarely happened since Alastair only had a few friends and the only one who hadn’t known Jem before was Kamala.

It was nice, having so much space to himself. Jem had changed a lot about the house, it didn’t look like an exact copy of the house he’d lived in when he was very young. Cordelia and his mother still lived with Risa, with him gone it fit a bit better, but they were in the process of getting the house back.

He saw Thomas regularly, and they had sleep overs once a week. Alastair had bought a new double bed for his room mainly so they could share the bed. Thomas was currently adapting to student life, but had vowed to Alastair that he would not drink any alcohol. Alastair worried that would severely limit Thomas’ social life, but secretly he was very happy Thomas would do that for him. Lucie had also decided they would all start playing DnD with her, and although Alastair still didn’t understand much of the game, they had fun. Thomas, who had been in Lucie’s previous campaign as well, had helped him with his character. Right now, the group consisted of Lucie as the story teller, or dungeon master as the game called it, and Thomas, Cordelia, Kamala, Eugenia and him as the players. Alastair played a warlock, which he felt suited him. Warlocks also got nightmares they never asked for all the time and were constantly exhausted, not to mention they made deals with otherworldly beings. Perhaps it fit a little too well.

He’d also decided to take lessons in ballroom dancing, with Kamala as his dance partner at the student dance association. He almost had something that resembled a social life, which was both very new and very weird. As it was, they both were quite good at dancing. Kamala had taken two years of dance classes too, although it had been years, and together they could figure out what they remembered and how to do it. Both had been forced by their father at the time and it was much more enjoyable now that they’d chosen to pick it up again, not to mention it was nice having a dance partner he matched well with.

Thomas was still considering starting dancing, but finding a partner who was tall enough for him would be a struggle. Alastair could follow decently and dance with Thomas, although he still noticed the height difference, but with the lack of men in dancing most teachers would rather pair Thomas with the tallest girl available.

He felt like for the first time in years, he was sort of happy? Happier than he used to be at least. He still had nightmares, flashbacks, all that, and didn’t think it was going away anytime soon. If anything, EMDR made it harder, but that was to be expected. He’d known that during EMDR he’d have to talk about everything, and although in time that would make it better, at first it just brought everything to the surface. He’d learnt not to plan anything else on days he had EMDR, except maybe cuddling with Thomas.

Although relationships were still new to him, any relationships really, he was getting more accustomed to having people around who cared about him. Not just Thomas, but Lucie and Cordelia, who had just started their last year of school and came to him for help with their math homework, Kamala and Eugenia, who he’d been spending time with at the dance studio. He often visited the Lightwoods too, and he felt welcome there. Gideon and Sophie had made a habit out of inviting him along with any family outings. He’d never felt so welcome before, it had taken some time to work through that.

‘You’re going to love my gift, I promise.’

Tomorrow was Alastair’s nineteenth birthday, and Thomas was sleeping over the night before.

‘What is it?’ Alastair asked.

‘A surprise.’

‘It was worth a try,’ Alastair said. ‘How was your visit at Matthew today?’

Alastair had spoken to Matthew once. He didn’t think the two of them would ever be good friends, but they could move past school and tolerate each other’s presence. Thomas had spent the day with him today, shopping. Matthew apparently loved clothes even more than Alastair did, and had an unusual and extravagant taste.

‘Awkward,’ Thomas said.

Alastair frowned. ‘Why was it awkward?’

‘Well, he’s the only other man I know who is interested in men and has previous, uh, experience. So I figured I’d ask what to expect and what to do. It was a very uncomfortable conversation.’

Alastair started laughing. ‘You could have just asked me.’

‘I know, but I thought it would be nicer for you if I had some idea of what I’m supposed to be doing,’ Thomas said.

Alastair put his hand in Thomas’ hair. ‘That’s sweet.’

‘From now on I’ll be asking you my questions,’ Thomas said. ‘Of course, the internet has also been helpful.’

‘As long as you know where to get your information,’ Alastair said. ‘Porn isn’t real and not a good source. But I don’t mind if there’s things you don’t know yet, because I know enough.’

They had sex for the first time that night. Alastair felt it was the right time. Of course, having sex the night before his birthday wasn’t new to him. The previous years he’d spend with Charles ever since he’d turned sixteen. It was far better with Thomas. Not because of experience or anything like that, but because Alastair felt comfortable, because he was absolutely sure he wanted it and felt like he could ask Thomas to stop if he wasn’t comfortable anymore. Thomas was a little clumsy, but Alastair didn’t mind. He would get better at it with some practice.

The next morning, they went to the Victoria and Albert museum. It was early on a week day and neither of them had classes today. Thomas had been surprised at first by how empty his schedule was but had ultimately discovered much of his free time was spent on assignments and preparing for lectures and classes. Fortunately, it did mean they could easily plan such trips on times it wouldn’t be crowded. Alastair still didn’t like crowds and didn’t think he ever would. Thomas had grown over his fear of them, but he also preferred the quiet. It was much nicer this way, taking his time to let a piece of art wash over him, undisturbed by other visitors. Thomas made the occasional comment. He’d taken art history in school and could name the different styles and put works in the context of the time period. Alastair didn’t say much in response, just nodded. He felt he didn’t have to.

Thomas had promised him his gift after coming back from the museum, and Alastair was starting to get curious. Thomas had hidden the gift somewhere in Jem’s house, so Alastair wouldn’t even be able to guess from the shape. He hadn’t bothered to look for it, but had been tempted. As much as he liked the small smile on Thomas’ lips as he said ‘not yet, mi Cielo,’ Alastair was not fond of surprises. He liked to know what to expect with a three to five workdays advance notice for anything out of the usual.

‘You’d think no one has ever given you a birthday gift before,’ Thomas said. He paused. ‘Wait, is that it? Did you not usually receive gifts?’

‘No, I did, from my mother and sometimes Cordelia.’

Charles too, Charles had had a habit of giving him expensive gifts. Or gifts he’d found among his mother’s things, he guessed. Alastair had not seen him again now that he was back in London, for which he was grateful. Gideon had spoken with Charles and told him he knew what he’d done and wasn’t welcome at his house anymore. Apparently Charles had been very angry about that, but Gideon had told Alastair he was welcome anytime and it was his responsibility to guarantee his safety. Alastair appreciated that.

‘Have you been asking them about it all this time too?’ Thomas asked.

‘No just you. But you made a big deal out of it by hiding it someplace here,’ Alastair said.

‘Alright, I guess you can open it,’ Thomas said, who left and came back to the living room carrying a very big box.

Alastair carefully opened the wrapping paper, making sure nothing tore. He wasn’t sure why exactly, but he’d always opened gifts this way, as if he intended to reuse the paper, something he’d never done.

‘I thought, with how impatient you were, you’d rip it all apart,’ Thomas said.

‘No,’ Alastair said.

‘You can rip it, it’s no problem,’ Thomas said as Alastair was struggling to get a piece of sticky tape off without damaging anything.

‘No,’ Alastair said, even more determined to get everything off properly.

Once he’d gotten it open and folded away the colorful wrapping paper, Alastair revealed something that resembled a hamster cage, but bigger. There were two floors, the top open and the bottom offering a little more darkness with a little home in there an animal could hide in. There was a wheel, several balls, and a little hedgehog plushie.

‘I know you were planning to get a pet hedgehog, so I researched what it needs. This has most things it needs to live in, you just might need to add a heat lamp because hedgehogs need a warm environment.’

‘I’d been looking into what I’d need too,’ Alastair said. ‘Jem is alright with me getting a hedgehog as long as I make sure to keep Church away from him. That shouldn’t be a problem, as I would put the hedgehog in my bedroom and Church doesn’t go there.’

‘How is Church?’ Thomas asked.

‘Usually, he is wherever I’m not. He doesn’t come into my bedroom. In the living room it can be a bit more of a struggle, as he likes to claim his space, and no matter where I sit, he gets upset because that’s the spot he wanted for himself. The only moment he tolerates me is when I’m accompanying Jem on the piano.’

Alastair had picked up playing music again after years and he tried to practice for half an hour daily. Sometimes with Thomas, singing his songs and playing more modern music. But he also played classical music with Jem, who was exceptional at the violin. Jem could probably have been a concert violinist if he hadn’t chosen to become a doctor instead.

‘Sounds like Church,’ Thomas said. ‘He won’t be a danger to your hedgehog, will he?’

‘I will keep my hedgehog in my bedroom,’ Alastair said. ‘If I make sure to keep the door closed when I’m not there, I think it’s unlikely Church will even go there. Even then there’s a cover for this hedgehog home and a little house for him to hide, and of course a hedgehog can roll into a little ball of quills. I think it’ll be fine. And my therapist thought it might be good for me to get a pet, as long as I am confident I can care for it of course. Now, can you help me think of a name? I’m not great with names.’

‘You and Cordelia have been arguing about baby names for weeks now,’ Thomas pointed out.

‘Yes, the baby should have a beautiful Persian name,’ Alastair said. ‘For pets it’s different.’

‘Or dnd characters,’ Thomas added.

‘So what if my character has my middle name?’

‘No, I like it,’ Thomas said. ‘Esfandiyar. It’s a beautiful name. For a pet I think a shorter name is better. I think your plushie hedgehog is called Mr. Prickly?’

‘I named him when I was a child,’ Alastair said. ‘I’m not naming my pet something stupid.’

‘No little pipsqueak?’ Thomas said with a grin.

Alastair rolled his eyes. ‘Absolutely not.’

***

‘You mean to say you forgot to buy Alastair a gift for his birthday?’ Lucie asked.

‘I didn’t forget,’ Cordelia said. ‘I planned to do it today, after school. How was I supposed to know I was going to get detention?’

They entered the bookstore, certain she could find something Alastair would like here.

‘Sorry I couldn’t get you out,’ Lucie said. ‘Even my dad can’t do that, but he knows it was completely unfair.’

Cordelia shrugged. ‘I finished my homework. But I’m still pissed.’

She knew teachers tended to be harsher on her, Alastair had always had the same problem, and she usually made a point to behave but she also wasn’t going to let people just walk over her girlfriend. So what if she’d gotten into a fight with a bully? He’d started it, but that’s not how the teacher who’d broken them apart saw it.

‘Alastair will understand,’ Cordelia added. ‘He was often sent to detention unfairly too. Now, which of these books do you think he’ll like?’

‘Both seem pretty good,’ Lucie said. ‘What are they about?’

‘This one’s called Malice, and is a Sleeping Beauty retelling focused on Alyce, the dark grace with powers similar to the original evil witch who cursed the princesses, and she might be the villain but she might also fall in love with Aurora. I haven’t read it, but it sounds awesome. The other is Girl, Serpent, Thorn.’

‘Oh, didn’t I lend you that one last year?’

‘Yes,’ Cordelia said. ‘It was awesome and the cover is so beautiful I wanted my own copy. I think Alastair will like it too, the world is inspired by Persian culture and the Shahnameh, which he loves, and the story is very good too.’

Girl, Serpent, Thorn was probably one of her favorite books, and Cordelia ultimately decided to buy it for herself while buying Malice for Alastair. He could always borrow the other book from her, she just wanted to reread it several times and have the gorgeous cover on display.

‘I doubt Alastair minds we’re late,’ Cordelia said. ‘He’s been spending the day with Thomas.’

Cordelia sometimes envied the amount of free time Alastair had compared to her. She hoped it would be the same once she went to university. Of course, Alastair had his memory, he only had to read everything once and he would remember forever. He could save so much time that way.

It still struck her as odd how they didn’t understand Alastair’s memory. Lucie was the way she was because her grandfather was the thief of souls. Same for Tessa, who’d gotten some of her power back after his death. Thomas had the sight because his mother did, and Kamala had healing powers because a fairy had given them to her. But no one knew why Alastair was the way he was. Cordelia knew it still frustrated him, not understanding.

‘I can’t wait until I can go to university,’ Lucie said. ‘I am so done with physics.’

‘Why did you take physics?’ Cordelia asked.

‘No clue,’ Lucie said. ‘I’ll survive another year. Then it’s English literature and creative writing.’

Cordelia wished she knew what she was going to study. Half her biology class was already working on their med school applications, but Cordelia had no clue yet. At least she couldn’t really picture herself as a doctor. Part of her still wanted to be a hero, but what if like Jem she decided to retire early? Being a hero didn’t exactly pay, and it was good to have some education. She just didn’t know what. She knew, of course, it was fine to choose wrong at first. Alastair had realized being a politician wasn’t for him, and was again starting in his first year.

‘At least Alastair promised to help me with my math homework,’ Cordelia said.

Cordelia and Lucie took the metro and arrived at Jem’s house. She’d been here frequently since the summer, and it already felt like Alastair’s house. She’d considered moving in herself too, but felt like she was still too young to move away from her mother and would rather stay for now.

Alastair and Thomas were in the living room, where an animal home was standing on the table next to a bit of neatly folded wrapping paper, not a tear in sight. Alastair had always been a little obsessive in the way he opened gifts. The wrapping paper would be thrown away, yet he always opened it with such a care and he never ripped anything.

‘Happy birthday,’ she said, hugging her brother.

He’d grown more comfortable with physical affection lately, and for Cordelia it felt like it had become easier to reach him. She’d had to get used to not living in the same house as him at first, but Alastair seemed happier here.

‘Thank you,’ Alastair said. ‘I’m officially on the waiting list for a pet hedgehog. It might take some time, but I have some of the supplies I need now. I am open to name suggestions as I have not thought of anything yet.’

‘Pipsqueak!’ Lucie called out.

‘Oddly, you’re not the first person to suggest that,’ Alastair said. ‘No, I am not naming my pet Pipsqueak.’

‘That’s because I already call Alastair that,’ Thomas said.

Alastair rolled his eyes. ‘My hedgehog will have a serious name, not something a toddler would have chosen.’

They didn’t settle on a name yet that evening. Lucie kept suggesting the kind of names Alastair meant to avoid as a joke, and Eugenia did the same when she and Kamala arrived. Kamala had a few good suggestions, and Alastair decided to look into Persian pet names.

Cordelia started feeling like things would be alright again, like things would be normal. Of course, she could never be sure. Tatiana had not turned up again, Gideon had reported her missing and so far the police had no leads. Cordelia didn’t think they’d find her, and she wondered if Tatiana would come back. There was no chance she could bring back her son, not anymore, but Cordelia feared she might want revenge. Right now, she tried not to worry. She would be prepared, yes, but she would also continue to live her life, go to school, worry about things normal girls her age should be worried about. Alastair seemed to be doing a little better as well, although she knew his EMDR days were hard. He was playing music again, and Cordelia loved to listen to him play the piano while she was here.

‘Do you want to play something?’ Cordelia asked at some point, gesturing to the piano.

‘Of course,’ Alastair said. ‘Thomas, I need your help.’

‘I didn’t bring my guitar,’ Thomas said nervously.

‘I don’t need you to play, I need you to turn the page of the sheet music. One of these days I’m going to make a copy and tape this piece together, but it’s 5 pages long.’

Cordelia would always be impressed at how fast Alastair could move his fingers over the keys. He’d tried to teach her when she was younger and she could play some simple melodies with her right hand only, but she’d never gotten the hang of playing with two hands.

‘I recognize this,’ Lucie said when Alastair was finished. ‘I think it’s in Pride and Prejudice. The one with Colin Firth.’

‘That’s possible, it’s well known. The Turkish March by Mozart,’ Alastair said. ‘I’ve been practicing this for the past week.’

‘It’s lovely,’ Cordelia said. ‘I missed hearing you play.’

‘And now you only get to listen when you’re here,’ Alastair said apologetically.

‘I’m here several days a week anyway,’ Cordelia said. ‘I’m glad you’re playing again.’

‘I forgot how much I loved it,’ Alastair said. ‘But I’m happy too. Even Church likes it when I play.’

Cordelia noticed the cat was sitting up from his spot on the couch, listening intently as Alastair started playing something else. Church might hate everyone and everything, but he loved Jem and he loved music.

Thomas continued to do his job as page turner and Cordelia could see the adoration in his eyes as he watched Alastair play. She was glad they’d been able to work it out and were still together, Alastair deserved that.

When Alastair was finished, Lucie decided to present her gift, which was a story she’d written herself in an insanely short time. Cordelia had read it and helped her edit, but the premise was that it was Frozen but with Alastair and Cordelia as the main characters.

‘I’m going to read it as soon as I have the time,’ Alastair promised. ‘This sounds brilliant.’

[apiratewhopines]

I’m going to alternate artwork so we get leather-clad Killian and fancy dress up Killian.

Midnight

Chapter 3 — The Godfather

Summary: In which our heroine accepts the finer things in life

Chapter 3 of 7 on AO3

“He gave her things that she was needin’

He gave her a home built of gold and steel

A diamond car with platinum wheels”

-Minnie The Moocher, Cab Calloway

The creeping pace her warden set was nerve-racking. She wasn’t sure if it was her imagination or if every eye in the place was watching their slow procession through the ballroom. Finally exiting the room, they paused in the hallway and Emma said resignedly, “Let’s get this over with.”

“I’ve had my eye on you from the moment you walked in,” the other man commented, nodding to passersby with no hint of distress. “You should have known better than to think you could escape unnoticed.”

“Well, I thought if I left quietly, no one would be the wiser,” she replied, smiling at him with a hopeful kind of chagrin. “You can’t blame a girl for trying.”

“Don’t apologize, my dear. There are three of us in rebellion against this entertainment if you want to call it that. I think I may turn down all future invitations from Regina if this is the torture we will be subject to…” Grabbing her arm softly, he started steering them through the throng still attempting to find a place in the ballroom.

She was shocked they weren’t heading to the front entrance. The man, who had yet to introduce himself, was leading her down a back hallway. Moments later, he paused in front of a closed door. “You do play bridge, yes?”

Emma hadn’t played the game since she was a teenager staying with Granny, but as usual, the lessons the older woman taught her were going to save her from a terrible fate. “Yes, though I’m a bit rusty. But why me?”

“You’re charming, you’re bored, and you have the face of someone who wouldn’t trump your partner’s ace,” he explained with a breezy smile. Placing his finger to his lips to hush any further conversation, he pressed an ear to the door and then gave two quick raps against the frame. Taking one more second, he then opened it and ushered her in.

Upon entering, she saw two occupants huddled by the fireplace, which blazed happily with a roaring fire in opposition to the warm night. Immediately, his pause made sense as she noticed a faint smudge of lipstick on the smooth skin of the man’s face.

“Lancelot, Guinevere, allow me to introduce Madam—I’m sorry, I don’t think I caught your name.”

Scrambling, she said the first thing that popped into her mind. “Jones.”

“Ah, Madam Jones, I’m Sidney Glass, your knight in shining armor for the evening. This is Guinevere Soberano and Lancelot du Lac, your fellow insurrectionists.” Her knight joked before adding, “Lance is the most dangerous man in the room, so watch yourself.”

Seeing how the tall, handsome man took his time sizing her up, she had a feeling she knew what made him dangerous. The fashionable lines of his tuxedo did little to hide his muscular build, and while he wasn’t the sexiest man she’d met that evening, she knew if they had met on any other night of her life, he would have been. She could tell by how his eyes continued to seek her out that he wasn’t immune to her charms either. It should have made her feel better considering she’d been in the same outfit for nearly two days and her hair was still wet from her dash through the thunderstorm. Instead, it made her feel tired.

Taking a seat with trepidation, she tried to hide her feelings of discomfort. She was the one who ran when offered a cozy landing place, so now she needed to play the hand she was dealt. Literally. Watching as Sidney took over as dealer, she asked, “What are we playing for? Bragging rights?”

“How about our normal stakes? Five dollars a point?”

Eyes wide, she calculated if she remembered the game correctly, there would be thousands of dollars exchanging hands tonight. If only a fraction of that money came her way, she may be able to get out of this dress and fill up her tank so she could hit the road and resume her search. She refused to think about what she would do if she didn’t win. Granny had been a cutthroat player, so she had more than enough practice.

Lance settled in as her partner, his eyes never leaving her face as the group silently arranged their cards and planned their strategies. Her heart racing, Emma mumbled, “Two spades.”

And the game began.

Hours later, they were in the hole and she couldn’t help wishing Sidney or the other woman was her partner. Lance seemed much more interested in flirting with her than winning, and if she weren’t sure it would get her thrown out, she would have kicked him under the table for screwing up her chance to turn her luck around. Not to mention the fact that with every suggestive exchange, Guinevere’s eyes grew a little bit colder. She had a feeling the woman would make a formidable enemy.

The door to their hideaway opened to admit her former neighbor, his eyes as unnerving by firelight as they had been in the brighter gleam of the ballroom. The ever-present smirk was there in full force as he made his way to their table and planted himself between Lance and Guinevere. “Darling, why don’t you introduce me to your newest recruit?”

“Madam Jones, this is my husband Arthur Soberano, the only man on the planet who enjoys these little parties. Arthur, this is Madam Jones, a woman in need of a better bridge partner.”

“It’s so hard to concentrate on cards sometimes,” Lance murmured, his heated glance never leaving her face so no one had any doubts about what was distracting him.

Arthur observed the exchange, and the subsequent reactions, with the expression of a man who finally found his silver lining. She hoped it was catching. “Jones, eh? Would you be one of the Rhode Island Joneses?”

Pasting a bright smile on her face, she demurred. “No, but I’ve heard they’re lovely people.”

“You’re American, correct?”

“What gave it away? My abysmal accent?”

“Something like that,” Arthur responded with a smile. “So if not Rhode Island, what Jones clan do you hail from?”

“Oh, Jones is my married name. My husband is from Cambridge.”

“Of course! I should have known. I ran into Baron Jones a few years ago in Budapest, and he spoke of an American girl. How is he? Is he here tonight?”

Resisting the urge to roll her eyes, because of course there would be a Baron Jones and of course this enigmatic man would know him, she stared at her cards and hoped she sounded more convincing than she felt when she said, “No, no. He’s still in Budapest. He wasn’t feeling well enough for transatlantic travel. You know, the old trouble flaring up.”

Tsking with a hint of amusement, Arthur narrowed his eyes. “That’s too bad. Guinevere, we really must make a trip there soon. Beautiful city. Tell me, Madam Jones, did they ever finish the metro Line 1?”

For the love of all that was holy, would the man never stop with the questions? “You know how construction is…the roads are still a mess here and there.”

She knew by the way his body shifted that she had misstepped. She wasn’t sure what trap he laid, but she walked right into it. To add insult to injury, the final hand of the night went into their loss column.

Lance shook his head in defeat and pulled out his wallet. “I really must apologize, Madam Jones. I’m usually a much better player. You’ll have to let me make amends to you. Perhaps lunch tomorrow? What’s your favorite place?”

“That depends, Lance. How much money am I out tonight? I will exact revenge in corresponding measure.”

Sidney piped in with a gleeful laugh. “Four thousand dollars from each of you. Not a bad haul, if I do say so myself. But bypassing the awful concert makes the win priceless.”

Her head swam with the figure, trying to ignore the way Arthur was circling the room like a caged lion and wondering how plausible it was for a baroness not to carry cash. Surely, the nobility class had people to handle this kind of thing for them. “I’m not sure I have that much on me. I hope you’ll accept my IOU. Has anyone seen my bag?”

She saw the look Guinevere and Sidney exchanged and her stomach dropped. They wouldn’t let it go. Perhaps looking for her non-existent purse would allow her to sneak out.

“Is this it, Madam Jones?”

“Yes, thank you.” Turning around, she saw a beaded clutch she’d never laid eyes on before in Arthur’s extended hand. She hadn’t stolen a single thing in her life, and she wasn’t thrilled to start now, but desperate times called for desperate measures.

Opening it, she found a wad of cash that looked like it could bankroll a small country for a year. Shocked, her gaze flew to meet Arthur’s and he winked before departing the room.

—

No matter how hard she tried to shake him, Lance would not leave her alone. Subsequently, everyone in the entourage hung on like they had nothing better to do than tag along while she flitted around the club trying to lose them. Finally, the evening started breaking up. Large groups of people gave each other air kisses and made plans to meet at various houses for brunch the next day. Freedom was within reach if she could only make it out the front door.

They bid goodbye to their hostess, who was high on finding the supposed party crasher, an older woman they dragged from the downstairs powder room and tossed out into the night, still swearing she didn’t know anyone named Neal and claiming she was the Duchess of Longbourn.

Emma thought a silent apology to the woman and hoped karma graded on a curve.

“Allow me to wait with you until your car pulls around,” Lance said, offering his arm to help her down the steps.

“I’d hate to trouble you,” Emma ground out, her voice deepened with the effort of holding in a groan of frustration. “My chauffeur is habitually late.”

“Then I should give you a ride,” Lance countered. He had yet to let go of her arm, and she was afraid she would have to cut it off to make a clean break. “Where are you staying?”

Having no clue of the lodging situation in Misthaven, she worried about another trap under Arthur’s expectant stare. “I’ll give you three guesses.”

“The Ritz,” he immediately countered.

“Right in one! But really, I’d rather wait for my car.” When the words left her mouth, the familiar lines of a black BMW cruised down the street slowly like the driver was looking for something. Or someone. Panicked, she flashed her new admirer a dazzling smile. “On second thought, let’s get out of here.”

As Lance handed her into his sports car, she heard Guinevere’s voice muttering to Sidney, “We don’t know anything about her. She came here all alone.”

“I notice she’s not leaving alone,” Arthur replied, smile widening as he caught her eye through the window and gave her a jaunty wave.

By jumping into a car with a virtual stranger for the second time that evening, she avoided one issue but created another. Her time was running out because this charade was doomed to fail when they arrived at the hotel and there wasn’t a room for Baroness Jones. She’d have to get rid of him in the parking lot.

Unsurprisingly, considering how her night was going, it was easier said than done. Lance appeared to be a gentleman if you overlooked his tendency to have affairs with other men’s wives and wouldn’t hear of dropping her off at the entrance. Throwing his keys toward the valet stand, he made his way to the concierge desk over her protests that she had some things to handle in the lobby before heading to her room.

She closed her eyes as she heard him say, “Checking into Baroness Jones’s room.”

Here it came. The boom.

“Of course, sir. Will that be all?”

Opening one eye, she watched as the employee handed over the room card. This couldn’t be right. She must be trapped in some nightmare where her pain and humiliation hung like a knife above her head, and the anticipation of the stabbing turned out to be worse than the violent act itself.

Laughing with fake merriment, she snatched the card from Lance before he could pocket it and said forcefully, “Thank you for a lovely evening. Good night.”

“My mother always said to see a woman to her door, or my job wasn’t done.”

Unable to hide her exasperation one second longer, she asked, “Don’t you know when to go home?”

“No.” With a broad smile, he held the elevator door open while she entered and wished for death. In hindsight, her original plan of sleeping on a park bench seemed like a real winner compared to this slow torture. She wouldn’t allow herself to think about the warm bed and warmer smile she had also turned down.

Tired, annoyed, and pining for her original driver of the evening, she didn’t even try to maintain a conversation with the man beside her, her head filled with dread at the idea she was about to open the door to a hotel room occupied by the real Baroness Jones. With the resigned stride of a prisoner walking the green mile, she reached the room slower than the situation called for and leaned against the door facing Lance. With a stony expression, she said pointedly, “Look, right to the door. You did your mother proud and can go home and sleep peacefully.”

“What? No nightcap?”

“No, absolutely not. I don’t need a mother to tell me inviting a man into my hotel room in the middle of the night is a bad idea. Go home.”

Laughing, he reached out and pushed her hair away from her face. “You’re magnificent.”

“I’m also married,” she bit out, barely resisting the urge to slap his hand away. There was something riveting about a man with an overabundance of confidence, but she refused to be charmed. If she were going to give in to any urges, she would have done it with the person behind Door Number One.

“So I’ve heard. At least make sure the card works. Those things are notoriously fickle, like most wives I’ve met.”

Chuckling despite herself, she swiped the card against the reader, grateful to hear the lock disengage in the quiet hallway. “There. Good night.”

Before he could say or do anything else, she slipped into the room and clicked the door firmly back in place. She tiptoed through the suite, not daring to turn on the lights while she looked for any trace someone else was in the room. Her search coming up empty, she reached over and flooded the bedroom with light.

The king-size bed looked heavenly. Giggling, she decided to make the most of this temporary reprieve. She dropped her clothes in a pile and ran to the bathroom, happy to find it as luxurious as the rest of the rooms in the suite. Turning the water all the way to hot, she allowed the steamy spray to wash away the hurt, the hopelessness, and the hysteria.

She stepped out of the shower an hour later, eyes red-rimmed and body weak with fatigue. Not even bothering to dry off, she collapsed in the bed and fell into a sleep plagued with blue eyes and black cars.

—

The sound of the antique telephone ringing penetrated the fog in her brain as the last strands of sleep broke. Startled, Emma glanced down at her nude form and immediately looked beside her to see if she was alone. Her dreams of the previous night didn’t fade quickly, and the vivid image of the Captain and his wonderful stubble made her ache.

Groaning as memory replaced fantasy, she plopped back against the mattress and grabbed one of the nearly two dozen pillows haphazardly strewn across the bed to cover her head in an attempt to drown out the noise.

It wasn’t really her hotel room, so she probably shouldn’t answer it anyway.

Unfortunately, the caller didn’t know she was an imposter and seemed determined to reach the room’s occupant. She picked up the receiver and pulled it under the pillow to join her. In a groggy voice she asked, “What?”

The chirpy voice of a hotel employee responded, “Good morning, Baroness Jones. Your luggage has arrived.”

“From Boston?” That didn’t make any sense. She’d pawned her last remaining possessions less than forty-eight hours ago, but unless she packed a boomerang in the pocket of her favorite jeans, she wasn’t sure what they were doing in Misthaven.

“I’m not sure, madam. The delivery driver only mentioned it was for the baroness. It should be arriving at your room momentarily.”

As if summoned by magic, there was a knock and she hung up the phone while trying to wrap herself in the thick comforter. Dragging the ends of the blanket like a train behind her, she threw open the door and felt her eyes widen at the sight greeting her. Lining the hallway was a parade of hotel employees carrying a few pieces of luggage each.

In mute shock, she moved out of the way and the group started piling the bags in the living room of the suite. When the final trunk was laid in the corner by the wall of windows overlooking the town, she stood staring unblinkingly at the head bellhop.

“Will there be anything else, Baroness?”

“No, I think this is quite enough.”

“Very well.”

The group seemed hesitant to depart, and she did a quick check to make sure her makeshift toga hadn’t slipped. Finding everything was as it should be, reason soaked through her dazed brain and she said, “Oh, the tip!”

“No, madam. Your chauffeur took care of it already. He wanted to know if you’d be needing the car today. It’s beautiful weather out.”

“My chauffeur took care of the tip and wants to know if I need the car…” she echoed back, trying to see if the words made more sense if she was the one saying them. No. No such luck. She was going mad. That was the only explanation. Or maybe the Captain wasn’t all he seemed to be and he had drugged her and this was simply a hallucination. Noticing the flock of bellhops was waiting patiently for her response, she smiled benignly and said, “I wouldn’t be surprised.”

A voice called out from the doorway, “And what about breakfast, Baroness?”

The hotel employees filed out, leaving her and her unexpected visitor alone. Pulling the comforter more tightly around herself, she hissed, “Arthur. It was you.”

“What was me, my dear?”

“The money, the room, the clothes, the chauffeur. Does Baron Jones even exist, or did you make him up?”

“I like to think of him as more of a group effort. You provided the inspiration; I provided the title. Seeing you in all your lost girl glory last night gave me an idea.”

“From the moment you looked at me, I had an idea you had an idea. I’m not interested.”

Chuckling, he tossed his hat and jacket across a nearby chair and sank into the couch. “I’m sure there is a robe or something a little less linen closet in one of these suitcases. I’ll close my eyes while you look if you’d like.”

“I think I’ll stay over here.” Where it’s safe.

“You have nothing to fear from me, dear. I’m here to make a proposal. One that will be mutually beneficial, I hope,” he drawled, picking a piece of fluff off his pants. He continued to avert his eyes, which she found strange since he stopped by to proposition her over breakfast apparently. “This is only the tip of the iceberg. I can guarantee you’ll never have to worry about money again.”

“Still not interested. You know the way out.”

“Come on, Baroness. Why don’t you slip into something more comfortable and hear me out? I promise it’s nothing like what you think.”

“Arthur, when Little Red Riding Hood spots long, gray whiskers, it’s ridiculous to keep insisting you’re the grandmother,” she retorted, moving carefully toward the nearest bag so she didn’t accidentally flash him. Pulling out a shirt at random, she riffled through the case until she found a pair of shorts as well. Scrambling to the bathroom, she called out over her shoulder. “Go huff and puff somewhere else.”

“I guess that means I’m the big bad wolf,” he said with a smile as he moved to trail after her. When she slammed the door in his face, he raised his voice and added, “I’ve certainly been called worse. Tell me, what was your impression of Lance?”

“I think neither of you takes no for an answer very well,” she mumbled as she pulled on the shirt and stared at herself in the mirror. What bizarre alternate universe had she stumbled into, and how in the world was she going to return to reality. Talking to her reflection, she said, “You’re Emma Swan. You’re not a baroness. Killian Jones is not your husband. You are not going to shack up with Lance or Arthur.”

“Nice pep talk, but if I may be so bold as to suggest a different path,” her visitor interrupted from the other side of the door. “You see, my old friend Lancelot and my wife think they are in love.”

“That’s very cozy but not my problem.”

“I’d like to pay you to make it your problem, Emma Swan. Nice name, by the way. Last night was the first time since their affair started that I thought there might be a ray of hope. The whole time Lance was flirting with you, my wife was fighting tears.”

Rolling her eyes, she snapped open the door and was satisfied to see him lose his balance. “Who won?”

“I plan to, and I’d like you to be on my team. I just need you to keep his attention long enough for Guin to come to her senses.”

Moving past him, she picked up her discarded dress from the prior evening and grabbed the laundry bag out of the nearby closet. “Why don’t you punch him and be done with it?”

“He’s the top man at our boxing club. And besides, the last thing I need is to drive her further into his arms by making him a martyr.” He reached over and placed his hand on her arm, stilling her frantic movements. “Please. At least hear me out.”

Meeting his gaze for the first time since he entered the room, she observed, “You really love her, don’t you?”

“Yes. She’s not the only one who made mistakes. I need your help to make this right. And it might work out well for you too, you know. Lance’s family makes a superior income from a very inferior champagne. He’s no baron, but he does have the bank account of one.”

“I think you need a lawyer, not another homewrecker.”

“I’ll never get a divorce. Come on, Emma. We’re having a party at my estate in the Enchanted Forest. Come out this weekend and give it a go. I’ll pay you fifty thousand to show up and another fifty if this harebrained scheme works.”

“I… I’m not sure…”

“Am I upsetting some other plans? Do you have another offer?”

Thinking of black leather jackets and pie, she smiled wistfully. Shaking herself, she tried to focus on the fact that a hundred grand would pay back what Neal had stolen from Granny and leave enough for her to put a down payment on a place in the city. “Yes, I think I do. But fine, I’ll play along through the end of the weekend. Then I’m out regardless of what happens.”

“Fair enough. I’ll let Guin know I ran into you and invited you to join the party,” he said with a grin. If he had a mustache, she was sure he’d be twirling it.

Before they could discuss any other details, there was another knock at the door. With an exasperated expression, Emma asked her companion, “What now?”

Putting his hands up in a placating gesture, Arthur assured her, “Hey, this one isn’t me.”

Yanking open the door, she saw an enormous bouquet of red roses. She took the flowers with both hands as Arthur cocked his eyebrow in silent question and pulled out the card. “‘If I had a single flower for every time I think about you, I could walk forever in my garden. -Lance.’ Huh. I rather resent that. The note to Guin just said, ‘So glad we met.’”

Notes:

For those who were wondering about Arthur’s trap, the Budapest subway is one of the oldest in the world and the line he mentioned was completed in 1896.

The quote on Lancelot’s card is from Claudia Adrienne Grandi.

@teamhook @kmomof4 @jrob64 @stahlop @motherkatereloyshipper @xarandomdreamx @xsajx @klynn-stormz

[writingtoforgetreality]

Help You - Little Movie Star Chapter Six (Jensen Ackles x Daughter!Reader)

[Actors-Masterlist], [Little Movie Star-Masterlist]

Previous Chapter / Next Chapter 

Summary: Your auditions were coming up. You would lie if you said you were not nervous but you remembered your lines. So nothing could go wrong. Maybe something would. But that something was not associated with the auditions.

Words: 2,003

Warnings: nervousness, little fangirl moment, anxiety, dark thoughts, panic attack, a lil sass, fluff, love for Jared <3, (Y/A) = your age

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

~2016~

“You know your lines?” Jensen asked for the thirtieth time today. Honestly, if you did not know better, you would say he was more nervous than you.

“I do, Jensen.” you did not ask him to stop questioning you. All you did was sending him a smile. Seating yourself in front of your laptop, (Jensen gave you his old one so you could write) you breathed slowly & controlled. Yes, you were nervous but you had a good feeling. Jensen & Danneel, both wanting to support you, each took seats right behind the laptop, only for you to see.

The first audition went by smoothly. You remembered all of your lines & implemented what was asked of you. Once you started, your nervousness faded away & you were delivering the lines confidently. At the end, they told you they would let you know as soon as they discussed everything with the rest of the crew.

“I’m proud of you, (Y/N).” Jensen stated after you ended the video call. Nobody had ever told you that. It meant a lot to you & he could tell by the way you reacted. Now, the waiting began. Jared had asked you to text him once you were done & you did. Letting him know that everything went fine.

You were more anxious for the Marvel audition. Unsure why, your heart was racing & your hands were trembling. It was not any different than the first one. Well, except for the fact that THE Russo Brothers were the ones doing the audition. You had been a fan of their work for years & wanted to deliver perfectly. Also, being part of the next Avengers movie? Surreal. You remembered it so clearly, when you watched your first Marvel movie in theaters. It was now or never. Again, Jensen & Danneel stood close by, hoping it would calm you down just the slightest.

Throughout your audition, you forgot your lines once or twice but covered it immediately by improvising a scene that you found fitting. It was weird. Sitting in front of a laptop, acting out a scene you were rehearsing before. You imagined working on film sets with other people to be easier. Here, you could only focus on the screen in front of you & Joe & Anthony Russo were not exactly people you wanted to focus on. Hell, you were acting like a crazy little fangirl.

“So, (Y/N).” Anthony started. “We actually have a few more auditions for this role coming up.” in the corner of your eye, you saw Jensen picking up his phone & walking out of the room. Huh, weird…

“I really don’t think we need to see more, though.” Joe continued.

“What we’re trying to say is that, if you want to, you got the role.” Anthony finished, smiling brightly. What did he just say?

“Really?” you could not believe it. They wanted you! YOU! Someone who had never acted before. The Russo’s simply nodded at you & told you that every piece of information would be sent to you in the following days. Somehow, you managed to end the video call professionally but not before thanking them again & again. They said you were a natural & a perfect addition to their new movie. And you were just loving everything at the moment.

Running over to Danneel, you hugged her tightly. She congratulated you, telling you that this was what you deserved. When you wanted to ask where Jensen was, he reentered the room, a big smile plastered on his face.

“I got the role!”

“You got the role!” the two of you said at the same time.

“What? I thought you were on the phone, how do you know?” how could he know about you getting the role if he was not even there?

“You’re talking about the Marvel one?” his eyes grew wide. You nodded & he pulled you into a hug.

“Today’s your lucky day, angel.” Jensen picked up that nickname from Danneel & you sure as hell were not complaining. “Just got off the phone with our producer. Welcome to the Supernatural Family.” it took you a moment to process what he said.

“Wait…Does that mean-?” Jensen nodded. “Oh my god! This is crazy…” you were pacing now. This being the only thing you could do at the moment.

“Congrats, (Y/N)! We need to celebrate!” he immediately called Jared to tell him the great news.

A celebration party was set up for this evening. Everyone was coming. The Padalecki’s, this time with Tom & Shep (& baby number three that was already growing inside Gen’s belly). Jensen’s parents were invited as well which meant that you would meet them for the first time. You were not a fan of parties, especially when the attention was on you, but Jensen & Danneel were so excited while planning everything, you did not want to ruin it by admitting that you actually disliked events like this. Being the center of a crowd made you uneasy but you just got two acting roles, you could play pretend for a few hours, right?

The party was not as bad as you first expected it to be. Meeting your grandparents for the first time was nice, they welcomed you warmly & told you that they were glad they could finally meet you in person. Everyone here knew about your upcoming roles but you were asked to keep it secret for the time being. People would find out soon enough anyway. This celebration tonight was more than you had ever had. Not even once had you had a birthday party or something similar. You were not used to these kinds of things. Apparently, you should get used to them since such parties occurred more often with these people. Though you had to admit that it would be a challenge for you. You liked each & every one of these people here but still, there were these tiny voices in your head that just would not shut up. Telling you that you did not deserve to have them in your life, that you were not good enough to be an actor, that they were better off without you. Shaking your head to rid yourself of these awful thoughts, you could feel your breathing becoming irregular. Shit, please not now. Not in front of everyone. You had to get out of here, you could not have a full blown panic attack when you were supposed to celebrate & have fun. Looking around the room, you saw that the kids were playing & the others were caught up in a conversation. If you were to make an exit, now would be the time. Without a second thought, you got up & hurried out of the room, heading for the safety of your own bedroom.

Shutting the door behind you, you did not even make it to your bed. You fell down to your knees & crawled the remaining distance to your bed where you sat with your back pressed to it. Your breakdown was stupid, you knew that. You got two acting roles, something you had dreamed about ever since you were little. You had a family where, for the first time, you felt like you actually belonged. Hell, there were people here to celebrate you. But the past always seemed to catch up with you, no matter how hard you tried to move on. You could not breathe. Why could you not breathe? If you did not get yourself together, you might actually pass out. Shit, you could not do this alone. But you also did not have the strength to get up. Your phone was left at the party because you forgot it in your state of panic. Trying to yell for someone to help you, you found that your voice had left you.

Experiencing panic attacks like this was everything but fun. Like you were the main character in a horror movie & you made all the stupid mistakes the audience usually joked about. There was no way to escape. You did not hear the knock on your door, neither did you feel when a presence sat down right next to you. But still, nobody was touching you. And you were grateful for that because who knew how you would have reacted to anyone touching you.

“You gotta breathe for me, (Y/N). In & out, in & out. Try to match my breathing.” was the first thing you heard after minutes. You knew the voice but could not tell who it belonged to. Not that it mattered in the moment. Having someone to tell you how to breathe was all you needed.

“There you go, you’re doing great.” the voice encouraged you. Your breathing slowly returned to normal & you were exhausted like crazy. Looking to your right, you found Jared sitting next to you, smiling slightly. Shit, you just embarrassed yourself in front of him.

“You okay?” he asked, still concerned about you.

“I’m sorry.” your voice was hoarse & it felt like almost every ounce of strength had left your body because of this panic attack.

“Nothing to be sorry for.” he assured you. “I could tell you didn’t hear me right away & I wasn’t sure if you were okay with me touching you so I tried my best to get your breathing back to normal.” you were unsure how to answer him. You knew he struggled with his own mental health. Maybe he thought you were faking this. At least other people always believed you wanted attention whenever you went through an episode like that. It was the exact opposite, if you were completely honest.

Silence filled the room once again. Jared was not done with talking, though.

“Do Jensen & Dee know?” you scoffed at that. If they knew they probably would have never set up this party in the first place.

“I guess that’s a no then.” he answered his question himself. “How long have you had these?” maybe it was the fact that you were too tired, but you found yourself opening up to Jared.

“Ever since I can remember.” admitting something like that was not easy but it was the truth.

“You should tell them.”

“So they have another reason to send me back?” Jared widened his eyes at your statement. Were you really thinking that?

“They would never, & I really mean NEVER, send you back, (Y/N). They care for you a lot & they’d be more than open to help you with this. You don’t have to go through this alone.”

“Oh yeah? Well, I’ve been dealing with this for (Y/A) years on my own & I’m doing just fine.” the moment you said it, you heard that you were way too harsh with him. That was not your intention. “Sorry, Jared. I didn’t mean it like that.” looking down to avoid his stare, you waited for him to get up & walk out of your room. He did not, though. No. But his next question caught you off guard.

“You want a hug?” that was all you needed at the moment. A slight nod of your head made Jared pull you closer to his body. His embrace felt like a safe haven & you were happy that he was the one who followed you upstairs. Jared let you hug him for as long as you needed. Right now, you were all that mattered. And if you did not want to tell Jensen or Danneel, he would. They were his best friends & if he knew you were struggling, it was his job to let them know as well.

“We’ll get through this together, I promise.” pressing a soft kiss on the top of your head, he could feel you tightening your grip on him. For once, you wanted to trust another person’s promise. For once, you needed another person to keep their promise. You were not sure if you could keep going otherwise.

~to be continued~

Next Chapter

Published (04/24/2021) by Cathy

Tags: @vicmc624​, @imaginationisgrowth​, @stoneyggirl​, @alyispunk​, @thevelvetseries​, @multifandomlover121​, @samsgirl93​, @supernatural3002​, @diabetes-03, @prettyybubblesintheair, @originalsoulcollector​, @vir-tual, @bellero​, @sergantbuckybarnes​, @namelesslosers​ (let me know if you wanna be tagged <3)

[crystaljins]

River lead me home | 08

Characters: Kim Seokjin x reader

Word count: 8.5k

Synopsis:  Ever since coming to the human realm when you were child, nothing seems to fit, and this was just supposed to be a simple roadtrip to help you find yourself.

Is that too much to ask for?

Spin-off to A long journey home

Rating: Teens

Genre: Adventure, fluff, angst

Notes: WOw. Second last chapter! Who knew we’d get this far....  I said last chapter was the emotional climax and now I’m looking at the word count of this chapter and I’m a bit like... wow... ok... you had a lot to say, didn’t you?

Anyway, please enjoy!!

Tags: @blue1928​ @veeparkersstuff 

Masterlist

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 FINAL

The three of you decide to make camp in the ravine that night with only minor hiccups. The Psittanurans had kindly provided you with two extra bedrolls, both far more comfortable than your own, and since the three of you hadn’t anticipated the addition of a third human-sized traveller, you had foolishly left your old bedroll behind in favour of travelling lighter. Of course, Jungkook, used to the comfort of sleeping curled up in your pocket, refuses to sleep without a bedroll. You cheerfully offer to just sleep on the soft, slightly damp sand that comprises the riverbank, but you’re quickly met with protests from both of your male companions. 

“Just share with me.” Jin mutters, only slightly grumbly. The two of you had shared the single bedroll multiple times throughout this journey, and he doesn’t enjoy the idea of you attempting to rest uncomfortably with the state you’re in. Particularly because you’re only in that state because of him. 

You’re about to nod your agreement when you are yanked back several steps into Jungkook’s torso. He throws a heavy arm across your shoulders and grins at Jin in a way that lets Jin know that Jungkook is fishing for a reaction. 

“Oh no, no, no, loverboy.” Jungkook scolds. “We can’t have you taking advantage of our dear, naive (Y/N). She can share with me!”

You yank at his forearm more out of annoyance than an attempt to dislodge his arm. 

“It’s not taking advantage.” Jin grits out between clenched teeth. He’s not even sure why Jungkook’s insinuation irritates him so much, but it does. And with the way Jungkook’s grin widens, Jin realises it was the exact reaction Jungkook was hoping for. 

“If you insist.” Jungkook gives in. But then his expression turns faux-innocent. He drops his gaze to the top of your head and you tilt your chin back so you can gaze back up at him. “I can only assume that means that (Y/N) wants to share with you as much as you do with her and well, no judgement but I-“ 

“I’ll share with you!” You cut in, and Jin doesn’t need good lighting to know your cheeks are aflame. 

Jin’s jaw drops. Jungkook just completely played the two of you. And he knows it- he shoots Jin a smug look as you clamber into the luxurious Psittanuran bedroll alongside him. 

Jin is utterly floored by the red-hot flash of irritation he feels at the sight. He glares for a moment longer, as if it will change the outcome of the situation, but when it becomes clear that it won’t, he sighs and resigns himself to attempting to sleep for the night. It doesn’t take long for you and Jungkook to settle into a slow, steady rhythm of breathing that tells Jin you are both asleep. 

Unsurprisingly, sleep doesn’t come easily to him that night. It’s not even that you’re lying a metre away wrapped in Jungkook’s annoyingly bulky arms, something Jin didn’t even know was irritating until now. No, what keeps him awake is the way his mind absolutely refuses to stop replaying the way you had looked at him when the arrow had hit you. 

It was easy, in the adrenaline rush that had pushed him through the events of today, to ignore any pesky emotions. He didn’t have time to process or understand his emotions in the onslaught of disasters. But now he has nothing but time as the night slowly passes and he’s lost. He’s so, so lost.

It’s been a common topic on this journey- how you make him feel. Initially the answer was easy. You’re annoying and pesky, like an untrained Labrador puppy, but you’re also family, like an untrained Labrador puppy. Someone he cares for greatly, but is also annoyed by beyond belief. 

But for some reason, the longer this trip has gone on, the harder the answer has become. Does he still care for you? Absolutely. Do you still annoy him? Beyond belief. So if that hasn’t changed, why does that answer feel so incomplete? 

He sits up with a groan, realising he’s not going to get any sleep any time soon. The shore of the riverbank is cold and damp and the sand gives way beneath his bare feet. On the edge of the river like this, he can gaze straight upwards and glimpse the jagged strip of starlight visible between the imposing walls of the ravine. The stars in this realm really are something else- bright, sparkling pinpricks on an indigo canvas, high overhead. So much brighter and more intense than the muted, dusky black of the sky in the human realm. When he’d first moved, he’d actually missed the brilliant glow of the stars above, and he’d bought little glow in the dark stickers to attach to his ceiling. It had been during the time where you used spend a lot of time with him and his parents because your mother was working a late shift. He’d come home, overjoyed at the little stickers he brandished, and then he’d noticed the way you’d eyed them. You’ve never been very good at voicing your thoughts- every admission of yours has to be coaxed out of you. But he’d known straight away that you wanted the stars. He hadn’t hesitated, that night, to grab a ladder and spend the evening attaching the stars to your bedroom ceiling in a pathetic imitation of the constellations of Magregnum. 

The young teenager who had cheerfully attached glow-in-the-dark stickers to the ceiling of his friend’s room seems so distant and far away now. So much has happened since then- so much has gone wrong and so much has gone right. Briefly, he wonders if you’d liked him back then as well. Maybe he’d mistaken the longing glow in your eyes as being for the stickers when it had actually been for him. Jungkook had made fun of him for never noticing your feelings until now, but it’s not like anything has ever changed between the two of you. You’ve always gazed at him like he’s someone amazing and special. He’s always given up everything for you without a moment’s hesitation. If anything, the only difference between then and now is that you keep drifting further and further away no matter what efforts he does or doesn’t make. What can he do? How can he solve the problem of you slipping through his fingers like water?

“Can’t sleep?” A voice sounds, and to Jin’s credit, he doesn’t scream. He does start so violently that he nearly tumbles forward into the water lapping at his feet, though. 

Jungkook settles beside him, hugging his knees to his chest and gazing up at the stars above. 

“Something like that.” Jin manages, when his heart rate finally settles back into something that is conducive to life. Jungkook snorts and folds his arms across his knees, resting his cheek on his folded arms so he can peer sleepily at Jin. 

“I can’t either.” Jungkook admits. “The bedding isn’t as comfortable as I thought it’d be.” Jin glances at Jungkook, arching an eyebrow at him. 

“Not as fun sharing as you thought?” Jin questions, unable to keep the slight sneer from his voice. Jungkook grins, a flash of white in the darkness. 

“On the contrary, I’m very comfortable.” He asserts, and something about the way Jungkook says it has Jin bristling in irritation. He’s about to snap a retort, when Jungkook drops the cheeky front he has on, quite rapidly. Like a balloon deflating. “It’s just... I thought that as a human, everything would seem smaller. Less big and threatening. Everything was huge to me as a pixie. But for some reason...” he trails away before swallowing.  It’s the most vulnerable Jin has ever seen him- he actually looks like a young boy, lost and afraid. “Instead everything seems bigger.”

Jin is silent for a moment, mostly shocked by this side of Jungkook. He should know better than to be surprised that Jungkook is more than a pesky troublemaker, after all the revelations of this journey. There’s always more to Jungkook. 

The thought makes him smile for whatever reason. Jungkook, fearless, pesky Jungkook, is afraid of the future. Who’d have thought it? In response to the sudden fond feeling in his chest, Jin reaches out a hand to affectionately ruffle Jungkook’s hair. 

Jungkook makes a noise of protest, pushing Jin’s hair away. 

“Hey!” He cries. “I open up to you and this is how you treat me?”

“I can’t help it.” Jin teases. “You’re surprisingly cute.”

Jungkook huffs for a moment, clearly outraged at the sentiment, before the fight slowly drains out of him. 

“I’m serious.” He mutters. Jin shakes his head and mirror’s Jungkook’s pose, hugging his knees in close to his chest. 

“That’s how everyone feels.” He informs the former pixie. “The world is surprisingly big and huge, and life can sometimes feel like a puddle and sometimes like an ocean. Welcome to being a human.” 

Jungkook is silent for a moment, contemplating what Jin is saying. 

“I... never imagined this would happen. There are all these things I wanted to do, if I were human, but I never thought I’d actually get to do them. And now, I finally have everything I wanted, right at my fingertips and I’m... I’m scared.” Jungkook confesses. 

“I get that.” Jin offers in sympathy. “I was scared when we first came to the human realm too. And then I was scared when I first got into med school. And I was scared when I first got to this realm again. The things we don’t know are scary.” He confesses. “But hey. Sometimes the best things to happen to us are the scariest things to start. Look at you- if you’d never overcome your fear of granting the wish, you’d never have become human, right?”

That silences Jungkook for so long that Jin begins to think he’s fallen asleep. But when he glances at Jungkook, he’s wide awake. The stars overhead reflect in his round eyes as he gazes thoughtfully upwards. 

“The best things... are the scariest things to start.” Jungkook echoes at last. He frowns and squints at Jin. “I think you’re a hypocrite.” He accuses suddenly. For a moment, Jin merely smiles stupidly, not fully comprehending the sudden turnaround. But gradually Jungkook’s words register and his jaw drops. 

“I’m sorry?” Jin answers in offence. Jungkook stares evenly back at Jin and even tilts his chin defiantly upwards. 

“You heard me. You talk all big and wise like that, and yet you’re too scared to start the most important thing to you.” He reminds Jin. “Why else are you sitting out here, glaring at the sky instead of sleeping?”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jin mutters, digging his fingers into the sand. It’s kind of satisfying, the way it gives way and crumbles beneath his palm. 

“I’m talking about her.” Jungkook says, jerking a thumb over his shoulder to where you are currently snoozing peacefully. “And how you’re in love with her but you’re too scared to tell her.”

The words seem oddly loud and booming around Jin. For a second, he can’t seem to form words- like his tongue has frozen to the roof of his mouth. 

“I...” he tries, but he doesn’t really have any follow up. “I...” he tries again. The air suddenly feels warm and his shirt feels uncomfortably tight around his throat. 

“Ok, wow.” Jungkook says, releasing a low whistle for good measure. “So, you’re still doing the whole “in denial” thing? Really? Even after that whole desperate “what would I be supposed to do?” anguished kdrama lead monologue you had in that burrow?” Jungkook tsk’s and shakes his head and Jin feels his face flush with heat when he realises Jungkook had been eavesdropping on that particular conversation. “Girl takes an arrow for you and you’re still gonna deny you love her? Dang.”

Jin swallows past the dryness in his throat. But Jungkook cuts him off before he can offer any words. 

“Save your denial for someone who might believe you. I’m not even going to force you to say it out loud because it sounds like (Y/N) is going to have to do something more impressive than taking an arrow for you and jumping into a ravine with you to finally admit it out loud. I’m just going to say that I get it. I didn’t before, but now I do.” He offers Jin a weak smile. “The things we don’t know are scary. And starting anything with her is probably terrifying given all your history. But maybe when you start to believe the whole “the best things are the scariest things to start” spiel, then I’ll follow your lead. But for now, I’m cold and tired.” 

He gets to his feet and dusts sand off the back of his trousers, before padding over to where you’re fast asleep. 

Jin is rarely speechless. He prides himself on often having lots to say- to some of his friends he’s famous for the speed at which he can spit out words. He’s even heard you refer to them as “jants” when you think he isn’t listening. 

But he’s speechless now. Jungkook’s good at that- taking impossible, scary, confusing feelings and making them seem so simple that Jin feels like a fool. 

The best things in life are the scariest to start.

The words echo in his head as Jin comes to a realisation, in that moment. Why he’s been feeling so lost... why every moment with you feels like sand slipping through an hourglass...

It’s because he’s absolutely terrified. Terrified of what you mean to him, of the risks he would have to take to keep you in his life... and terrified of the cost if he doesn’t take those risks. 

But at the same time... the best things in life are the scariest to start. And Jin is more scared than he’s ever been. 

This time when he settles into sleep, the soft, steady sound of your breathing and the gentle lap of the river against the sandy banks is enough to lull his stormy mind into a surprisingly restful sleep.

++

When you awaken the next morning, it isn’t hard to tell that there is something bothering your two travel companions. There’s a multitude of things that could be the reason behind their stormy moods. The three of you are still trapped in a ravine together. There is still the long journey back home. The Saishtas likely think you are dead, but they still linger out there and if you aren’t careful, you could expose your presence to them. So, you don’t blame them for being quiet and a little standoffish, but you wish you knew the exact reason for it. After all, you had kind of expected a more festive atmosphere after Jungkook became human. You certainly feel lighter and more joyous- why do your companions not mirror the sentiment?

“Is everything ok?” You finally ask Jin as he assists you with packing up the bedrolls. He looks at you, a little startled like he has been lost in thought. 

“Yeah.” He says, just a beat too quickly. “Everything’s... fine.”

Funnily enough, you aren’t convinced. But you decide you won’t push your luck. After all, there’s a long walk back to the portal, if you can even escape this ravine. They’ll come to you when they’re ready. There’s lots for you to sort through yourself, anyway. You still have to work things out with your mother, and you’re still unemployed, and now you know you’re in love with Jin as an added bonus. If they’re feeling even a quarter of the nerves you are, then it’s no wonder that they’re subdued. 

It takes most of the morning to find a path out of the ravine. Jungkook is confident there is definitely one, but he’s just unaware of where. When he had been born here, he had just flown up and out. But since guardians used to come in and out for these journeys, there must be something. 

It’s Jin who finds it, albeit accidentally. He’s lost in a haze, thinking deeply about whatever it is that’s bothering him, and the sand crumbles beneath his feet. He cries out, grabbing your and Jungkook’s attention from where you had been scrutinising the various carvings from past guardians. 

It all happens so quickly- Jin flails, stumbling a few steps. He reaches out, grabbing onto the side of the ravine to stabilise himself. 

But he just keeps going. He crumples into the wall. And it folds around him. And just like that, he’s gone from view. 

It takes a moment of you and Jungkook staring stupidly at each other before you both realise what has happened. Crying out in horror, you stumble over to the section of cliff where he vanished. You reach out your hand to press against the wall and find that rather than firm rock, it has an unusual spongy texture that gives way. 

You wave Jungkook over, who mirrors your action and digs his hand into the wall. It seems to suck his arm in slightly, and you both nod at each other before pressing your way through the odd, spongey section of rock wall. It spreads around you and clings like quicksand. For a moment you feel a flash of fear, but then the rock springs away from you like an elastic snapping back into place and you and Jungkook are standing in a darkened, open cavern. You can still make out the darkened path, but you doubt a human would be able to make out a thing. 

“Ow!” You hear a voice cry when something warm but firm catches your leg and you lurch forward, landing flat on the cavern ground. Whipping your gaze over your shoulder, you find Jin sprawled across the ground. 

“Well...” Jungkook observes, gazing around the tunnel. His new, human body did not have the enhanced abilities that you and Jin do (as they had arm wrestled the night before to check) and so likely he is completely blind in this tunnel. “I’m just going to assume this is the way out. Are you gonna get a torch out, (Y/N) or are we going to hold hands the whole time?”

“She’s getting the torch out!” Jin snaps, scrambling over to you and snatching the bag off your uninjured shoulder before you can do anything. 

He plunges his arm all the way in and pulls out the familiar yellow torch. It lights up the tunnel, highlighting the long, winding route ahead of you. 

And then the light stutters and blinks out, leaving you in the once more in darkness. Jin whacks the bottom of the torch a few more times and plays with the switch, but no light returns. The three of you remain silent for a moment, perhaps a shared moment of memory for your torch, who had fought long and hard for you on this journey. And then Jungkook breaks it. 

“Well, hope your hands aren’t sweaty.” He sighs, and his fingers barely brush yours before he’s yanked away with surprising force. 

“I have better eyesight.” Jin explains, perhaps a little too sweetly. It’s in contrast with the way he squeezes Jungkook’s hand perhaps a bit too tightly. “I’ll make sure you don’t fall over, Jungkook.”

Jungkook whines in protest. 

“You’re hurting me!” He complains. 

Jin doesn’t dignify him with a response, and instead sets a rapid pace forward, strolling confidently through the cavern despite the meagre lighting. 

It doesn’t take long for the sombre mood that had plagued them that morning to return. This time, you’re a little less willing to let it slide- Jin has proven himself prone to these strange, moody fits on this journey and you know he’s eventually forced to admit what’s bothering him, but for Jungkook to be just as quiet has you stressing. What’s wrong? Why are they like this? You’d gone to bed joyous and content and had awoken ready to face the world and the multitude of challenges ahead. But for some reason, Jin and Jungkook don’t share in your eagerness, and you’d be lying if you said it didn’t hurt a little. 

It’s not like you expected things to be easy, or simple after reaching the river. You hadn’t even known that message from your dad existed prior to this, so it’s not like everything would just click into place and you’d ride off into the sunset. It’s just... you’d thought you were all on the same page, after everything. You and Jin had plummeted off a bridge together, for goodness’ sake! And it’s stupid, but the way he’d held you, cradled your head protectively as you fell, you’d thought...

Well, you hadn’t thought he was in love with you, or anything. You’d just thought it was something, at least. Yet here you are- for every step forward you take with Jin, there seems to be another three steps you take backwards. And now Jungkook is joining in on the whole brooding-confusing act too. 

You haven’t even realised you’ve stopped walking until Jin stops to look at you over his shoulder. Jungkook, still completely blind in the dark tunnel, stops when Jin tugs on his hand. 

“What’s wrong?” Jin questions, gently. As if he hasn’t been ignoring you all morning. 

“That’s what I want to ask you.” You’re surprised at the soft, tentative way the words come out. They echo slightly in the cabin, and there’s a clear, confused waver in your voice. “What’s going on? Why are you...” you trail away, searching for the words, but you come up empty. “Like this?” is what you finally settle on. “Why aren’t you telling me what’s the matter? Why the silence and the brooding? Haven’t we had enough of that?”

Even though your eyesight is better than Jungkook’s, it’s still difficult to make out Jin’s silhouette. It’s impossible to make out his expression, which makes the tense silence that follows all the more nerve-wracking.

“There’s nothing wrong.” Jin finally says. “It’s just something stupid.”

His words aren’t meant to be hurtful. He’s trying to be dismissive so that you don’t worry. You know this, and understand his reasoning perfectly, but it still feels like a slap in the face after everything the two of you have been together. You’re so sick of this endless, perpetual cycle. If it’s not him, it’s you- someone is always holding back, too afraid to say the truth. To crush the fragile eggshells that you’re tip-toeing on. 

“Friends are supposed to share the stupid things.” You say softly. You can’t see his expression, but you watch the way his shoulders stiffen. “Did you know that Jungkook’s biggest fear is the washing machine? He’s afraid he’ll be asleep in one of my pockets and my mum will throw my clothes for the wash.” 

“That was private information-“ Jungkook protests, but you cut him off. 

“I know that sort of thing about him.” You tell Jin. “Because Jungkook and I are friends.  When I went through that phase where I wanted to be a warrior and started enrolling in all those different self-defence class, I told Jungkook. It was a stupid phase, but I still told him. Do you know why? Because I trusted him. Yeah, we make fun of each other, and we fight, and we call each other names, but I still tell him everything because that’s what friendship is. It’s trusting each other to stick it out through the ugly.” You don’t know where all this is coming from. All you know is this- you just trusted Jin enough to follow him over the edge of a bridge, but he doesn’t reciprocate. And that’s been the problem from the start. It’s always been uneven between you. You shared all your ugly, all your insecurities. You went to him when things were hard. But he hid it- he masked his insecurities and he held back the things he wanted to say and now the two of you are here. Two strangers in a dark cave.

“I trust you-“ Jin protests but the words are empty and ugly. 

“You don’t.” You finally say. “And I can-” you voice cracks, so you clear your throat and try again. “I can try until I’m blue in the face to be the sort of person who never needs you and never makes you worry and it still won’t fix whatever this is between us because the truth is, you don’t want me.”

Your words hang in the darkness between the three of you. You’re pretty sure Jungkook is even holding his breath. 

“You don’t want me, Jin.” You say again. “You just feel like you’re obligated to be with me. And I... I don’t want that. I don’t want you doing anything out of obligation for me. Not anymore.”

Despite the fact that your throat feels raw and painful after your tirade, you feel oddly lighter. You take a deep breath and move to push past Jin, but a hand shoots out and grabs your wrist. 

“That’s not true.” Jin protests, and his voice wobbles. “Don’t... You’re not an obligation.” He asserts. 

And you want to believe him. You do. But you just can’t. You’ve had a whole trip- no, a whole friendship of him treating you like the most inconvenient creature in existence.

“I sure feel like one.” You say softly, and Jin’s grip on you goes lax enough that you’re able to start walking forward. “It’s fine. Let’s just get out of here already. The sooner we get back home, the sooner I’ll be out of your hair.”

The sun stings your eyes when you finally reach the end of the tunnel- a similar spongey wall conceals the exit. You tell yourself it’s the sudden influx of light that causes your eyes seem to water as you enter the last phase of your long journey. 

++

Jin has an ugly, gurgly sensation in his chest. It’s close to guilt, but worse- darker, and more painful. He watches your back from where you walk, maybe ten metres in front of him. Jungkook walks close to you, clearly mumbling something. But since it’s Jungkook, it’s just as likely that he is comforting you as it is that he’s pointing at random lumps of dirt and noting the resemblance to your face. 

You haven’t spoken a word to him since stepping out of the tunnel. The exit had brought the three of you out at the northern edge of the Golden Plains- a direct walk east through the forest would bring you to a village where you could stock up on supplies for the journey home since the Psittanurans hadn’t given you enough for three human-sized beings, and buy a third bedroll for Jungkook. 

It’s an easy fix, really. All Jin has to do is apologise. Assert that you are not an obligation to him and that he does trust you. But every time he plucks up the courage to cross the few metres you walk ahead of him, something stops him. Because, if he tells you that, that you’re not an obligation, then that begs the question: what are you? As much as he loathes to admit it, he’s beginning to see the truth in Jungkook’s words; he’s a hypocrite. A cowardly, pathetic hypocrite who isn’t even brave enough to admit to himself what he’s feeling. 

An unholy screech interrupts his commiserating and he has just enough time to think here we go again to himself before he is greeted by the sight of a terrified Jungkook held bridal style in your arms. You look equally shocked, as if you hadn’t expected Jungkook to leap into your arms like that. Jin rushes forward, ready to offer aid should disaster come but he cannot locate any immediate threats.

It is only once Jungkook stops screeching and cowering in your arms like a distressed puppy that Jin is able to see what has him so terrified- a small group of mice, standing up on their hindlimbs and wielding tiny little swords. 

It takes a few incredulous blinks and a good rub of his eyes to convince himself that the scene before him is real and not something’s he’s hallucinating after watching too much Ratatouille. 

The little grey mouse, whose tiny nose twitches in fear as he edges forward, is the first to speak. 

“You are guardians, are you not?” The little mouse demands. You and Jin exchange a concerned glance across Jungkook’s hulking figure. It’s the first time you’ve acknowledged him for hours. 

“Not!” Jungkook squeaks, still terrified. You, to your credit, have not dropped him, but you are starting to look impatient with having to carry him. “Just leave us in peace!”

“Jungkook!” You snap. “You could literally squash them with your boots please stop being ridiculous.”

“You know I have a phobia! They always bully me back home!” Jungkook grumbles, but reluctantly drops from your arms onto the ground. Only for one of the mice to brandish its sword. Jungkook screams and leaps onto Jin’s back. 

With a resigned sigh, Jin doesn’t even bother to throw Jungkook off. He just lets him hang there, like a terrified koala. 

“You fit the legends! Hulking beasts with terrifying aura!” A little soft brown mouse declares, though the tip of its sword shakes as it squeaks. “Giants who offer aid to all who demand it of them!” 

Jin closes his eyes and inhales deeply, willing himself to be calm. 

“I think you have the wrong-“ Jin begins, ready to brush aside the little troupe of mice and continue with the seven day hike home, but the smallest mouse, a little grey and white one with a soft pink nose, stumbles forward. 

“Please!” It begs. “You are our last hope! You must help us! Forgive us if we startled you- we have been following you since you came to this realm and we are running out of time.”

This gives Jin pause. He’s not sure why- it’s not like he knows how to read the expressions on their tiny faces but something about the desperation in the little mouse’s words makes him unable to leave them.

“Our people are suffering from a plague.” It admits. “And there is only one cure for the illness.”

“A good mousetrap?” Jungkook suggests from over Jin’s shoulder. Jin glares at him just to make sure he knows the comment is unwelcome. 

The little grey and white mouse ignores Jungkook and focuses its attention on Jin. 

“The starshine fungus.” It explains. “It grows in abundance on the riverbanks just on the other side of this forest. But few of our people are well enough to gather and transport it back home. We need as many as we can gather, and yet we were the only ones healthy enough to make the journey. But the demand for it far outweighs the ability of just the four of us to transport it alone. We are too small, and too weak.” 

Jungkook has gone eerily quiet at those last words- even his breathing has seemed to cease. That almost never bodes well.

“I’m really sorry, but we-“ you begin, on the verge of rejecting them. 

“We’ll help.” Jungkook says, cutting you off. He pushes his way off Jin’s back and drops back onto the ground. He crouches before the four little mice and smiles. The expression on his face is almost gentle. “You guys don’t know what it’s like, to be small and helpless. We can’t leave a whole colony to die just because Jin wants to make it back in time for his dinner date with that cool engineer guy.” He says to Jin and you. Jin bites his lip, and you look momentarily guilty. But then your expression clears, and you nod your head. Jungkook’s expression brightens and he shifts his gaze to Jin, clearly waiting for approval. 

With a sigh, Jin offers a nod. Why did he become a doctor if he’s just going to let an entire village die? As much as he loathes to admit it, Jungkook is right. 

“So, you’ll help?” The grey and white mouse asks. Jungkook nods. 

“Show us the way and we’ll carry the fungus back for you.” Jungkook promises. 

On cue, all four of the mice bow deeply. 

“You have our deepest gratitude.” The largest mouse, the grey one that had spoken first, says. 

Jin swallows deeply. He has no interest on yet another detour on this ridiculous journey. He just wants to go home. At home, he can fix his Apple watch. He can have dinner with Joon. Maybe, in the safety of home and what he knows, he can even work things out with you, and himself. Here, in this realm, there is nothing but danger and the choked knot around his heart that he can’t seem to untangle in your presence. 

Still, it’s a pleasant walk. You let the little mice perch on your shoulders since Jungkook hasn’t fully shaken off his fear of them. They direct the three of you on a march southwest, towards the seaside. It takes nearly the whole day to get there. The lazy afternoon is warm but not sweltering although the air is heavy with the promise of rain later on. 

You all reach the river before the rain comes. The forest opens up into a wide river. Northwards, the river extends towards impressive cliffsides where the fabled dragon kingdom is said to be, and southwards it rushes out to meet the sea on the southern coastline. Here, though, it is a lazy flow. Dragonflies dance on the banks and the river reflects the silvery clouds back up into the sky. 

“They grow along the banks.” The oldest of the mice, the soft brown one, explains. Her name is Phrosia, and she has lost all her children to the plague. She has no family and the only thing keeping her going is the thought that she can’t let anyone else face what she had. She points at where the bank meets the river edge. Small plants and reeds grow along the edges. “They are bright blue and quite large. They’ll grow just inside the water. They should be easy to spot.” 

“Well,” Jungkook says, sighing as he sheds his jacket. “Let’s get looking.” He rolls up the edges of his jeans and sheds his shoes and socks before wading into the mouth of the river and sifting through the grassy tufts on the banks. 

Jin meets your gaze, which is a surprise because he didn’t realise you were looking at him. He offers you a tentative, awkward smile which has you looking away quickly. The action has that ugly, gurgly sensation from earlier returning. He sighs to himself before rolling up his sleeves and following Jungkook’s lead, wading into the river. 

Sure enough, as the afternoon settles into a thick, muggy heat that signifies an oncoming storm, Jin begins to spot patches of bright blue amongst the reeds that line the riverbank. It’s mindless work- sort of soothing against his stormy mind. At least while he’s focused on adding to his growing pile of fungus, he’s not thinking about you, a few metres away, and the weird ache in his chest. 

He’s so engrossed in his task that when he feels the delicate tap on his shoulder, he nearly has a heart attack. The handful of mushrooms in his hand goes flying, catching the current and zooming away. He stares in horror at his lost fungus, before turning to the perpetrator. 

He’s expecting Jungkook to be standing there, looking smug from a prank well done, so when he sees you before him, looking uncomfortable and strangely guilty, he’s reduced to staring dumbly. The silence draws out for an uncomfortably long moment before you clear your throat awkwardly. 

“Can... can we talk?” You ask hesitantly. “Jungkook offered to keep looking for more.” You gesture down the river to where Jungkook and the mice are working together- He plucks a mushroom and they carry it over to his pile for him. 

Jin feels a nervous and uncomfortable sensation clog the back of his throat, but he nods nonetheless. You smile weakly and lead him away from the riverbank and back past the tree line. When you’re out of earshot but still within sight of Jungkook, you stop and turn. 

This is it- the moment Jin had been waiting for. A chance to set things straight, to clear things up, to make it right. 

“I’m sorry.” He blurts, at the same moment that you blurt the exact same words as him. 

For a moment, the two of you stare blankly at each other in the ringing silence that follows. 

You’re quicker to recover. 

“I went overboard.” You explain. “You don’t owe me an explanation for when you’re upset. I shouldn’t get mad over that. And even... even if you see me as just an obligation, I’m grateful you’re in my life at all. So, I’m sorry for getting upset and I don’t want to ruin the rest of this trip home.”

It’s certainly a heartfelt apology. You wring your hands in distress and you won’t meet his gaze. He can tell you’re genuinely sorry for what happened. 

Maybe that’s why he’s so angry in response to your words. Because, even if he lets this happen, accepts your ridiculous apology, the original problem still remains.

“Obligation?” Jin tests the word and even just the shape of the word in his mouth is annoying. “Obligation?” He tries again and he feels his blood pressure skyrocket. 

“You serious think after all this time that you’re just an ‘obligation’ to me?” Even Jin is surprised by the volume of his own voice. The area around you is deadly silent in response to his outburst, but now that it’s out in the open, he can’t help but keep going. “What kind of idiot would risk his life on a ridiculous trip like this, just because of an obligation? Why would I give up dinner dates and drive to your place late at night to make sure you’ve eaten? What, you think your mother slips me a little allowance for babysitting you? Newsflash, (Y/N), I’m a literal doctor!!! I don’t need an allowance! I own my own apartment! I’m thinking of buying a maserati! You don’t have anything I need and I don’t have any obligation towards you! You’re minimising everything I’ve done for you and for what? So that you can play poor pathetic victim? How dare you belittle my feelings like that!” He’s out of breath by the time he finishes his rant and to be honest he’s not one hundred percent sure of the furious words which had poured out. 

“Well what am I supposed to think?! It’s not like you ever explain yourself! You just sit there, and stew and I have to find out how you really feel by overhearing conversations you have with friends behind my back!” You explode in response. If Jin weren’t so angry himself, perhaps he would have felt alarmed by the vehemence of your answer. Instead, he just sees red, because here you go again! Making assumptions about him and not letting him get a word in edgewise! 

“When have I ever done that?” He demands. He doesn’t think he’s ever been so angry in his life, not even when Jungkook filled his shoes with pudding because he had nothing better to do.

“You always do that!” You cry. “I know how all your friends speak about me! There goes (Y/N), the leech! And you just agree with them- after all, aren’t I just like an untrained Labrador puppy?”

Jin falls silent at that. He doesn’t have a comeback for that. After all, for the longest time, that is what you were to him. He doesn’t even know why he’s so upset that you would think otherwise.

“No answer?” You accuse. “If I’m not an obligation to you, what am I supposed to think?”

“You’re supposed to think about how I feel!” He shouts back. His throat feels raw with the shout. 

You fall silent. You stare at him like’s he’s grown a second head. 

And then, in the ringing silence that bears down on the two of you, you ask softly “How do you feel?”

There’s that question. That terrifying, loaded question. The one that makes him feel like he’s dangling on the edge of a cliff by his fingertips. He feels the fight drain out of him as he opens his mouth to struggle through a half-assed excuse. Anything to escape that question. 

This realm apparently reciprocates his feelings of hatred, however, for he never gets the chance to respond. The muggy heat that had plagued the afternoon transitions into stormy humidity; overhead the stormy clouds that had gathered burst and immediately rain begins to pour down. 

The two of you flinch in the sudden onslaught, and a loud peal of thunder has you both skittering for shelter. 

There’s a small, hill like structure where the soil between the roots of an imposing tree has been flushed away; what remains in a shallow alcove that has just enough room for you and Jin to squeeze beneath the roots and shelter from the rain. He doesn’t know what Jungkook or the mice have done but hopefully the large pile of starshine fungus is being managed and not washed away in the onslaught of rain.

You rummage in your tattered hello kitty bag and produce a small, dry towel. Who knows what enchantments are cast on that stupid bag that the towel is still dry, but Jin isn’t complaining when you wordlessly hand it to him.  

He towels off his hair, and an almost comfortable silence follows, in stark contrast to the prior conversation. Only the background of rain falling and the occasional rumble of thunder hangs between you. In the silence, Jin registers your proximity. You crouch beside him, with your thighs pressed to his. The dampness of the rain makes hairs along your hairline curl and droplets of water cling to your lashes. His eyes catch the movement of one droplet as it traces a line down your cheek, across your jawline and down your throat until it vanishes beneath the collar of your shirt. Glancing away quickly, he’s suddenly aware of the muggy heat in the air and the way the space beside you just seems to radiate warmth. 

“You didn’t answer my question.” You comment. It’s so soft that the words are almost lost to the steady sound of rain breaking through the canopy overhead. “How do you feel?”

But he hears the words, and he knows in that moment that this is it. There’s no time or room for running or pushing it down. He can’t keep avoiding that question forever. 

“I feel overwhelmed. When you look at me.” He admits. You turn to look at him, awaiting an explanation. Something about the look in your eyes makes that weird gurgly sensation from earlier return. But this time, it’s less ugly- it’s actually almost pleasant. Like the fizz of champagne in the back of his throat or the tickle of butterfly wings against his skin. New, delicate, effervescent. His heart swells as he finally gathers his courage. “Did you know you always look at me in a certain way?”

He turns to look at you, and he doesn’t see that look now, but it’s not hard to recall. Eyes, sparkling with admiration and hope. In spite of all the ways you’ve changed over the years, that look has never changed. 

“How?” You question. When you’re facing him like this, the tail end of your breath catches against his skin. The fizzy feeling escalates to a nervous rumble in his chest. 

“Like I’m your hero.” He admits. “It’s a little scary- it’s so much to live up to. But it’s kind of exhilarating too. It makes me want to be the person you think I am.” 

You stare at him in confusion. 

“But you are-“ you protest. 

“I’m not. I’m no hero. I’m a coward.” He admits. “I mess things up all the time and I always say the wrong thing when it comes to you. And I’ve been trying so hard to be that guy. The one who has it all together and knows exactly what to say when you’re upset and can fix problems with a flick of his fingers.” It’s weird to finally be voicing this all aloud. He’s thought it a lot- that the real him doesn’t live up to expectations. But he doesn’t think he’s ever had the courage to tell you. Perhaps this is what you meant- if you are his friend, he should have told you all of this long ago. “But I’m not that guy. No matter how hard I try I can’t seem to be that guy. And if I open up… If I tell you all those things… don’t I seem so much less than that cool hero?” He confesses. “And I guess this whole trip has made it worse. Every time I think I have a handle on things, we get kidnapped or shot at or have to jump off a bridge. I haven’t had a spare moment to even pretend to be that guy.” He looks at you. “And then you come along, and you’re sneaking into enemy camps and taking arrows to the shoulder and defeating evil forest spirits. How am I even supposed to compare? And if you can do all of that on your own, what am I meant to be? What am I supposed to be to you? How can I be your hero?” He wonders. 

You stare at him in confusion. The rain starts to clear and a blade of sunlight cuts through the forest, catching the side of your face. It highlights the slope of your nose, the line of your cheekbones, the brightness of your eyes. In that moment, you aren’t his friend. You’re some ethereal, mystic being that feels a thousand miles out of reach. 

“I... I don’t want any of that from you, Jin. I don’t want or need a hero.” You finally confess. Your gaze softens as you shuffle forward, and the mood between the two of you shifts a little bit. Something intangible thickens the air and Jin feels strangely short of breath. “I just want... I just want...” you trail away, breaking your gaze but the tension in the air doesn’t dissipate. Instead, it seems to thicken when Jin realises that he desperately wants to know what you’re going to say. What do you want from him? What is he to you? What do you want him to be to you?

“You.” The word is barely above a breath and Jin feels like he’s been punched in the stomach. 

“M-me?” He stutters and he feels like a teenager with a crush with the way the tips of his ears go red and his face flushes hot. 

“Yeah.” You say, nodding shyly, before meeting his gaze with determination. “I want my friend back, Jin. I like the guy who stuck glow in the dark stickers on my ceiling when I was homesick but I also like the guy who gets scared of bugs and can fit an entire slice of cake in his mouth in one go. That guy is better than any hero because he’s here with me. And that’s what you do, Jin. You’re always here with me, and that’s all I’ve ever wanted from you.” You admit. 

The space between you is minuscule now- if Jin tilted his head just slightly forward, your noses would brush. This close, he can make out each individual lash framing your eyes. Every contour of your face is both familiar and unfamiliar; the air is electric. He recalls the way you had looked at him what feels like a lifetime ago, when he had realised your feelings. Are they still the same? Do you still like him even after seeing the pathetic person he is throughout this trip? If he tilted in and up and closed the gap between your lips, would you pull away or press forward? “I don’t want the guy who can fix things with a flick of his fingers. And I don’t want a hero. I want Kim Seokjin. It’s more fun to work things out together anyway.” You promise. 

It’s weird that those words are so liberating. Like a huge weight he didn’t know he’s been carrying all these years has been lifted. He’s fought and run and panicked for so long. Perhaps even longer than this trip. Long before you started avoiding him. Because all this time, he’s been trying to live up to an image he doesn’t fit into. He thought that’s what he had to be, for your sake. If you were struggling, he’d have to be strong enough to pull you out. But, with the words that hover between you, he realises he doesn’t have to be all that. He just has to be himself. Here the two of you are, after facing every imaginable danger, and yet you think no less of him. You’re looking at him with that same, admiring look. The brightness has not dimmed despite your awareness of his vulnerability, of his weakness.

And in that moment, Jin knows. There’s no more denying or running. He can’t keep it up- you’ve meticulously dismantled every stone in the fortress he built against you. He stands alone in the battlefield of his heart- you’ve conquered and won. He remembers earlier, when he’d tried to assert that he’d only ever see you as family, and the thought is laughable now. A pathetic, desperate excuse to avoid admitting the very thing that terrifies him to the bone. But, now he’s ready to admit it- ready to acknowledge what you are to him.

“You’re not an obligation to me.” He blurts. “You’re not a duty and you’re not just some un-trained puppy. You’re so much more than that, (Y/N), and everything I do is because I care about you so much. I’m sorry if it didn’t come across that way. I’m just..” He pauses and swallows. “I.. I lo-“

“There you are!” Jungkook’s voice sings out, and Jin winces. “I was starting to think you’d left me! Don’t worry guys, I’ve saved the fungus.”

You blink over Jin’s shoulder to where Jungkook has gathered the small little mushrooms into his jacket, which he’s folded into a little makeshift sack, the mice trailing behind. And then your gaze shifts back to Jin and you smile. 

“Guess it’s back to work.” You say, and your words are awfully cheerful considering Jin is currently considering murder. Jungkook doesn’t have a human identity yet- he could bury him in this realm, and no one would ever know. “Shall we work together?” 

It’s a loaded question, Jin knows, and despite everything, he finds himself smiling as well. 

“What other choice do I have?” He grumbles. “Let’s get home already.” 

[ssa-daddyhotchner]

The Struggle of Loving You - Chapter 5

Chapter Selection

It was radio silent for the next few weeks. Hotch barely reached out which honestly I expected. He had other things to worry about like his son and how the situation was going to play out. Based on the last time I spoke to him, Hayley wanted to try and work things out.

If Hotch had texted me I would've gone wherever he wanted me to. I wanted to help him but I guess everything happens for a reason. I had to think about school, what classes I was going to take and now that I was a senior starting October I needed to think about the FBI. 

I was sitting on the couch watching tv when Chloe came inside the room. 

"Look who I found", I glanced over my shoulder and Chloe held out her phone. 

It was Hayley and she was with her boy toy, "She's still seeing him? Hotch told me she wanted to work things out." 

Chloe shrugged her shoulders, "Guess not." What was Hayley expecting, that he was gonna let her back in and she was just going to hurt him again. 

The thought brought a bad taste to my mouth, not in the mood to watch tv anymore I turned it off. I stood up and went into my room, grabbing my keys and walking out the front door. I just needed to drive, try and turn my brain off for a moment. 

Again why I cared so much about a problem that's not even mine, I don't know. I wasn't with Hayley, she didn't cheat on me; it was Hotch. But for some reason I took it personally, maybe it was because of Jack? That now she didn't have time for him?

How she dropped her son off at her sisters so she can fuck someone else. 

Maybe it was just the fact that I clearly cared for Hotch and Hayley hurt him? I was driving for one reason only, to turn my brain off and I was doing the exact opposite. I needed something to keep my mind busy, I called Andrew. 

"You want to get some food?", I said to Andrew. "Alright, let me get ready.", I ended the call.

What we would even talk about I'm not sure, we weren't the closest. He was probably just going because I offered. I drove down the road and turned into Andrews apartment. I honked the horn twice.  Then I saw Andrew shuffle down the stairs. 

He opened the car door and climbed in, "Hey." I lifted some of my fingers off the steering wheel, like a wave. He caught notice of how quiet I was being halfway through the drive. "You okay?", I snapped my head to the side looking at him. 

"What? Yeah I'm fine, I just feel like my mind is in overdrive right now." He clicked his tongue and leaned his head back against the seat. "You know there's a few ways to fix that problem." He looked at me. 

I swear this man is so fucking dumb. "I'm not having sex with you", he cracked a smile and put up his hands, defending himself. "I didn't say that." 

"It's what you meant." Putting his hands down and unbuckling his seat belt he got out of the car. "You're not wrong", we both started laughing at the thought. Andrew has had a crush on me since freshman year and it's something he still hasn't gotten over. 

We walked up to the restaurant, going inside. We walked over to a table close to the window. Picking up the menus we started looking at the options although I already knew what I wanted. "What're you getting?", Andrew said setting down his menu. 

"I'm like a five year old remember", he opened his mouth and signed. "Forgot about that, so the chicken tenders." I nodded enthusiastically, smiling. 

The waiter came over and took our orders. "Why'd you really ask me here?", I furrowed my brows. "What do you mean?" 

"Y/n I've known you for a few years and let's just say... you don't hang out with people unless they ask you first. Honestly I think this is the first time you've invited me out in 3 years. So tell me what's going on." I let out a sigh, dipping my head down a bit. 

"Remember Hayley?", he nodded. "Yeah so I caught her having sex with another guy and I called Hotch to his house so he could see it for himself and I don't know I feel guilty." 

"Why?", I shrugged my shoulders. I truly didn't know the reason. 

"Because h- he didn't deserve it. How would you feel if your fucking kids babysitter told you that your wife was having an affair. Not just that but then called you to the house and you saw first hand your wife kissing another man. He probably feels like utter shit and-."

His full attention was on me, he was listening to every word; letting me rant and get the feeling out there. He knew that I didn't do it often. I would usually just bury it down and hope it never came back out.

The food was brought out and we ate it quickly now just in the mood to knock out again. We didn't during the car ride. I dropped Andrew off at home and he thanked me for the food. I pulled away from his apartment wanting to get home. 

My phone was connected to the aux, and I got a call. I take a second to look at my phone and answer the call. I sat there for a moment, waiting for the other person to start. 

"Hey", I said hesitantly. He didn't say anything, Hotch was thinking how it was stupid to call and that I didn't really care. "How are you?", he still hadn't said anything so I tried to steer the conversation. 

"I'm good, I know I haven't really been in touch, I didn't wanna rely on you to help me get over this. Lately It's just been difficult. I feel like I need things to be somewhat normal for once." 

I understood where he was coming from. Things were just falling apart for him, he used to keep in touch now he seems more detached. Like he was keeping things at arms length. 

 "Okay... how can I help." 

He waited some time to answer, I was still trying to process what he told me just a few seconds ago. "Can you come over, I just need someone here I can actually trust." I turned the car around and headed for Hotch's house. 

"Okay", I said probably quicker than I should have but I tried to make it seem like I wasn't too eager. He said okay then ended the call. I was stuck in my head yet again thinking about what he was expecting us to do when I got there. 

Did he want sex? Was just going to use me... why the hell am I thinking this, he isn't like that. 

I pulled up in his driveway and walked up to his door. Knocking a few times and he opened the door. I was slightly awkward, the thoughts from the car followed me in the house. 

We both walked over to the couch, "What'd you need?" We sat on opposite ends, I think he just needed comfort but I wasn't sure. "I don't know honestly", I didn't know what to do, hug him? He was like me in that aspect. I know he has other people to go to for this, like Rossi.

 Hotch didn't know what to do with his feelings, he's so used to hiding them away that when he can't anymore he doesn't know what to do with them. "Where's Jack?" 

"With Jessica", he replied almost instantly. "It's getting late", I said standing up. Again I don't even know why I actually came over here. 

"Don't leave. I'm sorry I don-." I sat back down and went closer to him almost right next to him. 

"I haven't personally experienced this so I'm not going to lie, I have zero clue how you feel right now. Obviously this is taking a toll on you." Hotch let out a quiet 'yeah' and put his head down. I wrapped my arm around his back putting my head on his shoulder. 

I felt him glance down at me and he moved his arm, it rested on my hip. He leaned back and I picked up my legs, curling up next to him. Sleep started to tug at me and while I drifted off I was in my thoughts. 

What am I doing? Why the hell did I put myself in this situation? Nothing's going to happen... not that I'd oppose if anything did. 

This is what he needs. Knowing him he didn't tell anyone about the separation. If he didn't I was the only person to really know about it. 

[lunewell]

The Lunewell Saga - Natura: Ch 3

Chapter 1 here

Chapter 2 here

Can also be read on ao3 (:

Book Sumary:

Zarifa Birch, an antique shop worker with an unusual past, has made a home for herself in the sleepy town of Lunewell. Though the shop she works at is not exactly ordinary, with cryptid items and odd occurrences, she has managed to carve the normal life she always desperately wished for out of it.

However, all that comes crumbling down, as a woman from Zarifa’s past throws everything into chaos. Faced with unimaginable horrors, seemingly unsolvable mysteries, and returning repressed feelings and memories, Zarifa along with her coworkers, must find a way to return the balance- and escape the cruel hands of death in this eldritch horror mystery

As always, he had not been himself in the night. He had been an old man, holding a rather nice-smelling bag, walking through the forest towards… something. Something he cared about.

His thoughts were not quite his own, but not the man's either; more a drowsy sort of mish-mash of voices, a bit like falling asleep in the middle of a bustling city. However, none of it really mattered, as he very much felt, smelled, and lived in the forest, above the crunchy leaves and around the warm scent. So hard to place. It was familiar, and yet, the exact detail of it had faded out.

He could hear his own voice, humming. It did not sound like his voice, not really, but it felt like his own, and that was enough for it to be his own. The vibrations travelled through his chest as he burst out in melodic sounds. He was humming a workers’ song, one that someone in his family had sung. Again, the details were blurry, like there was a block in his brain.

The forest was calm, basking in a sunny glow. Autumn leaves decked the ground, and the trees looked familiar. There was a comfort in this place, a home in the scent of mud and moss, and one that he cherished happily.

The trees, though originally quiet to his senses, rustled softly in a pleasant way. The wind must’ve been extra strong, he must’ve just not noticed it through the thick shield of stems.

The trees rustled once more, and felt a beat against the soles of his feet. It was slight, barely noticeable, but it got him to tilt his stiff, aged, neck downwards, if even just for a second.

It was then that it truly happened.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the trees curving, but he didn’t have any time to process as he was slammed down to the ground by a vine sprouting from the ground. A crack wrecked through his body, not unlike the sound a carrot makes when snapping, and he, in what simultaneously was and wasn’t his voice, howled in pain. His leg, already weak to begin with, felt as though it had been ripped in two, and he could clearly see red blood leaking from where the knee was bent at an unnatural angle. Fire coursed through his nerves, burning from his leg to his spine. The pain was so mind-numbing that he didn’t notice the much pointier vine heading right for him until it was too late.

As though it was sentient, a throned vine plunged at him, and punctured right into his stomach. It sliced all the way through him, as though his body was not but soft butter, before pulling out in an equally swift motion and landing him limp on the ground.

There was no pain, even as thorns began to wrap around and puncture every millimeter of skin, only numbness. Numbness from pain that could not be described in the English language. Numbness that no one alive had ever felt. Numbness that acted as a relenting defeat against his continuous fight for any hope of life.

And as he lay there, hands bloodstained, stomach gaping, and so incredibly empty, he feared. Feared for his wife, feared for his unachieved goals, feared for what was coming next. Even this fear, however, held a tragic sort of air to it, as it was dulled down by unrelenting numbness.

The numbness faded, along with all thoughts, as white, hot, pain came crashing down like a hammer. He let out one last pitiful, agony filled screech - for a scream was much too human to cover the sound - muffled by the thorns that had stuck themselves into his lips, before everything went black in what was truly the kindest mercy. ————————————————

Bruin awoke with a gasp, clutching his stomach. His eyes darted around his barren room, pulse racing at an olympic level under his skin. With a weak breath - still clutching his stomach with an iron grip - he closed his eyes, and repeated his mantra; You’re Bruin Becker, you’re not them, you’re safe.

The phrase played over and over again in his mind as his vision slowly morphed from a blur of panic, to the usual, groggy morning one. Taking a more stable breath, he slowly let go of his stomach. He couldn’t resist scanning his hands for blood, though he knew there was none.

Once he was sure his hands were clean, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and watched the world come to life. The white desk and closet popped from the midnight blue walls, the sheets on his bed clear as glass. He glanced at his face in the mirror, and was not surprised at what he saw; deep, dark bags under his slender eyes, porcupine-like hair, and a thin sheet of sweat that lined his forehead.

He collapsed back into his bed with a tired sigh, wanting nothing more than to ignore the clock that was taunting him with the ridiculous hour he had awoken. He would probably do that. Go back to blissful sleep, that is. He doubted he even had gotten an ounce of it because of his stupid… nightmares? Visions? Whatever they were.

He closed his eyes, relaxing back into his bed, mind so far gone and forgetting one quintessentially, very, important thing. A thing he was oh-so-kindly reminded of by what could have only been described as the sound of every single plate in the house shattering at once.

With an almost inhuman speed, Bruin threw the cover from his bed, and darted to the room next door. He adjusted his hair along the way in a frantic motion, pulse having quickened yet again at the commotion. He braked as he reached the kitchen doorway, looking at the source of the sound.

On the grey tiles sat a dazed Grant, covered head to toe in flour, shards of ceramic plates scattered around him like a bomb had just gone off. Grant looked sheepishly at Bruin, blue eyes just as bagged as his own. “Uhh… good morning?”

Bruin couldn’t help the look of absolute disappointment that rolled over his face. “How did you manage to - never mind. I don’t want to know,” he said, exasperated, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Well, if you must know,” Grant began, ignoring Bruin’s statement, “I was trying to make pancakes. Keyword there being trying.” He got up and tried dusting off the flour powdered on him like snow, but gave up almost immediately. “It was a shame really. I make lovely pancakes. It’s the only good thing about living with me, according to my dearest exes.”

“I’m surprised they listed any good things about living with you,” Bruin mumbled, before joining Grant to pick up the last pieces of the plates.

Though he would never admit it, Grant had been a blessing in disguise. When he first rented the little cottage in Lunewell, he had accepted that his co-worker would be an annoying, messy, music-box obsessed pest in the house that he would hopefully have to deal with as little as humanly possible.

Yet, almost like a mold, he had to admit that Grant had grown on him. Sure, he still couldn’t stand the messiness, and he swore that every time he turned a corner he saw another damn music-box, but those were things he had learned to forgive over the years.

“What possessed you to make pancakes?” Bruin questioned as they threw the last pieces in the trash.

Grant quieted, biting his lip.“They’re great comfort food,” he said slowly, as if testing out the words.

Bruin tensed, suddenly hyper aware of the rumbling in his stomach. “Oh,” he said quietly, after minutes of silence, “did you have a bad night’s sleep?” The question was pointless, but Bruin felt the need to ask it anyway. If only to take away from the barking that had begun playing in his ears.

“Yeah,” Grant responded, eyeing him, “I was up working on fixing an antique box, planning to go to bed, but I think someone was begging for their life outside, which wasn’t a very nice sound to fall asleep too.”

It was an invitation, one which he pondered for a while, before finally giving his response; “I wouldn't imagine so, no.”

He looked away as Grant's ocean blue eyes filled with pity, something that hurt him as much as any gun wound. “Hey, I… uh,” Grant began, no longer looking at him, “don’t feel obligated to answer this, but, are they getting worse?”

“You should probably go and get changed. I’ll make some breakfast for us. We still have a while before work.”

Grant, bless his heart, didn’t push. Instead, he simply nodded, vanishing the sad look from his eyes. He was halfway out the door, when he turned around with a snap; “that’s what I was forgetting to tell you!” he said, “Zarifa called earlier, she wants us to come in early.”

“Really? That’s unusual.”

“My thoughts exactly. I didn’t ever find out why though, she remained all vague. Sounded a bit panicked, if I’m honest.”

Bruin nodded. “We’ll head out after you and I get changed then. I’m not really in the mood for breakfast anyway.”

“Aye aye, Bruiny,” Grant said with a mock salute, before slipping out the door and presumably into his bedroom. Bruin did the same, taking one last glance around the rustic kitchen before walking towards his own room with a newfound haste. Zarifa had always been more than lenient with the times they showed and left work, especially once she realised both Grant and Bruin had abysmal sleep quality and patterns, so something like this was not only highly unusual, but equally concerning.

He just hoped nothing too terrible had happened. ——————————————

The walk to the Office was a beautiful one, especially this time of year. They were both bundled in hats and scarves that Grant had insisted on, as golden yellows and flaming hues passed and fell around them. For all the flack they could both give Lunewell - a lack of internet service, isolation from almost everything, and navigational systems that were seemingly built by a sadist - neither could deny that living there on mornings like this was truly a magical experience.

Or would be, were it not for the unfortunate scenario.

“Oh I hope she’s alright,” Grant panted out, slightly out of breath from the speedwalking that bordered on jogging. Working in antiques was unfortunately not a field that kept one in great physical condition, and in moments like this it truly showed.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Bruin reassured, “thinking logically, we know nothing serious has happened,” probably, “so it’s most likely something mundane, slightly ominous at best.”

Grant looked unsure at that, but didn’t say anything. Under the glasses, Bruin could practically see the well-oiled cogs turning in his head, eyes glaze as though lost in the mechanical world. It was his typical zoning out look, which was for once highly appreciated, as Bruin himself was in no mood to talk.

They walked up the path, letting the old, wooden store come into view. It seemed no different than yesterday, albeit much darker, except for, alarmingly enough, a room in the upstairs flat. They shared a questioning look, panic visible on both their faces, before speeding up and half-sprinting to the door.

With a lead ball in his stomach, Bruin realised that the door was not only unlocked, but stood slightly ajar. He shoved it further open, with an urgency but still lightly, as not to break any antiques.

Even the golden rays of autumn sun couldn’t hide the ruins of the shop. The furniture was at a slight angle, as though a lash had come whipping at the legs, the fragile glass and ceramics that had been close to shattering finally lay dead and dismembered on the floor, and most concerningly, there was an unidentifiable black liquid smelling vaguely of ozone.

“Zarifa?” Grant began calling, stepping over the mess with all the grace of a drunk octopus, “Zari? Boss? Are you in there?” Bruin followed his shouting companion, straightening the furniture as he went. They made it to the counter, still no sight of her, though that was changed as they heard a thunderclap of a sound emitting from the backroom.

They were in the employees’ lounge within seconds of the sound, greeted by the sight of an unusually casually dressed Zarifa surrounded by long walls of antiques, stacked in an organised manner. “Oh good,” she said, upon seeing them, giving them a warm smile that reached her tired eyes, “you made it.”

Bruin wasn’t so much looking at her, as staring at the large pile of antiques behind her. Some of them he recognised, like the ‘Girl in Field’ painting, or that odd statue of an old man made of clay, 200 years old, but painted in a cornflower blue pigment that could be no more than 100, though there were also surprisingly a lot of pieces he had no recollection of seeing. Zarifa, noticing his staring, looked at him apologetically; “Sorry I had to dismantle your system. I tried to keep the organisation, and I promise I’ll help sort it afterwards.”

“It’s fine. I’ll sort it myself,” he assured, not quite sure he truly trusted anyone to touch what he had sorted. Grant was a disaster on legs, and for as much as Zarifa was good at keeping schedule, she lacked the sheer efficient sorting instinct he had had since childhood. “Why is it all up here? Was there water in the basement again?”

Zarifa shook her head, before pulling a slightly splintered, old, wooden box with a golden, dust-painted leaf-engraving on top from behind one of the piles. Bruin’s eyes widened as he remembered where it had previously been, involuntarily glancing upstairs, and then back down to Zarifa. She hadn’t really… had she? No one had ever been in Valours flat, hell, no one even had the key to it.

She opened the lid cautiously, the box creaking as ancient and rusted hinges pulled back. She pulled out aged, folded paper, and slowly laid it down in Bruins hands. Though he would of course properly examine it later, he could tell it was far older than anything he was comfortable holding with his bare, gloveless hands. “It’s more sturdy than it looks,” comforted Zarifa, upon seeing his panicky stature, “go ahead, open it up.”

With a force comparable to a feather, he opened it in precise, calculated movements. He winced as he saw the handwriting, the fine, thin squiggles dating the paper to 300 years old at least, letting go of the note to the point it was barely still in his hands. He felt Grant peeking over his shoulder, and down onto the note curiously, mumbling the words as he read down the torn page.

It wasn’t a very long read, but it added tenfold to the confusion. “What seal?” Grant eventually asked, looking up at Zarifa, “this is the page blonde-pink-girl wanted, right? Why would anyone want this?”

Zaria sighed, looking at the paper with a darkness in her eyes. She looked contemplative, opening her mouth a few times to begin a sentence, before shaking her head and going back to thought. Finally, after tracing the golden part of the box a few rounds, silence echoing the room, she spoke; “We’ve all had encounters with Them before, right?”

Even with that single word, everyone in the room instantly Knew what she was talking about. It was Them that had drawn the entire group to the shop, Them that had left that hollowness that lived in all their eyes, Them that left all of them flinching at sounds and throwing hurried glances over shoulders, and most importantly, Them that created the bond they all shared.

Zarifa signed; “Take a seat, boys. This might require a bit of an explanation.”

—————- After a long, long conversation, involving the raiding of Valour’s alcohol stash for some well earned drinking, along with expensive chocolates for an alcohol-abstaining Bruin, all had finally been explained. There was a silence in the air, tinged in cheap wine and dread, as they all looked intently at the ornate box. “So,” Grant said, clasping his hands ripping away the silence like a band-aid, “we’re dealing with a big orb, monster thingy, which intentions are unknown, who kidnapped our intruder who was reading text that made vines sprout around her and smoke fill her eyes.”

“Yeah, that sums up what I experienced this morning nicely.”

Grant blinked, Bruin hurrying his mouth which had been firmly hidden deeper in his palm. “Fucking hell, I need another drink,” Grant exclaimed with a groan, reaching his hand out with his designated office mug towards Bruin.

“You guys are all out,” Bruin said with a tired voice, “besides, I don’t think alcohol is the wisest right now. I think we should try to figure out what actually happened.”

“Good idea,” Zarifa said with a nod, “we can begin with the note. Funnily enough, it’s the easiest thing here to deconstruct.” She took the box and gave it one last glance over, before rotating it away from herself and giving Grant and Bruin the opportunity to see it; “Obviously the seal is referring to the monster. I think it’s just a matter of gathering the ingredients, and whatever happened, will be reversed.”

Bruin, more than prepared, had already pulled out his black notebook and found an empty page. He looked once again at the section of the note containing the ingredients:

A key is forged by fragments of Touched sanity eating a sight of one that Sees, dipped in water oh-so divine. Once the key has begun, the fragments must sew themselves between the fabric, letting all webbed light shine on them. As they are blessed by the minute, and after the final step of-

And out of the nonsense, quickly jotted down the list of ideas that had been proposed by a slightly tipsy Grant, and an unusually frantic Zarifa;

Fragmented Touched sanity (Magic mind? Pieces of brain?) Sight of one that Sees (Some creature’s eyes obviously, maybe cow eye cult? (Most likely, Grant’s paranoia over cow eye cult, and not actually cow eye cult)) Water divine (Holy water?) Webbed light (Interconnected grids of light? Light systems?)

Jotting them down like that, was sadly, not very revealing. Partly because all their minds were still reeling, and what they had brainstormed was mostly a series of disjointed thoughts rather than a narrative, and partly because there was still so much hidden at the bottom of the riddle ocean. Bruin could still hardly find himself believing Zarifa’s situation, and had it not been for the black liquid stains he saw himself, the cryptic note, and the wobbly tone of her words as she recounted the events, he probably would have dismissed her as being driven a bit mad by paranoia.

Even now, fully aware of the fact that it was real, he was incredibly tempted to just storm out the shop, notebook in hand. Though he encountered the unearthly almost every time he was in deep slumber, he had never actually had a fully conscious encounter. And those… nightmares, visions - whatever they could be called - had left him gluing the pieces of his mind with only the instinct of survival. A real encounter would break him.

And yet, he couldn’t run. He had nowhere to go. Thorns Antique wasn’t so much a place he had chosen to stay, as a shelter he had desperately thrown himself into. Physically, yes of course he could travel or move. Marcus had been asking him if they could move in together for months, and would be more than elated to take him in. And he was sure he could put that business degree to good use.

But, though he was physically free as a dove, his mental wings were clipped. What was he supposed to do when he inevitably woke up one night in Marcus’s bed, screaming about the knife that he was convinced was lodged in his brain? How would he explain the countless of cryptic, weird, objects littered between pages upon pages of ripped-out death notices? Markus would see him as insane, and any future job he would have wouldn’t tolerate his hazy, obsessive, jumpy, and sleep-deprived state.

Though he did not personally know what their stories really were, he suspected Zarifa and Grant were stranded on the same boat of forbidden knowledge. Zarifa had no interest in history, having a passion for literature instead, and a people-pleasing nature and work ethic that could get her far, and Grant, though a bit of a clumsy idiot, was also incredibly academically bright, and a true cityguy at heart. They were an odd group, but a strongly connected one.

Or, at least somewhat connected.

“I propose we figure out what to do now,” Bruin muttered, after reading the bullet points a couple of times, “I don’t think there’s a standard protocol for situations such as these.”

Zarifa hummed in agreement, leaning against the table with a pensive look, sipping on some more wine. “I think we should prioritise figuring out what the riddle is actually saying,” she said, “and I think most of the answers lay here. There must be some connections between all this supernatural weirdness, and I’m pretty sure it lies in the antiques.”

Bruin and Grant nodded, both pulling the wildly uncomfortable chairs close to the table in a loud, squeaking drag. “As for the stuff that we can’t find the answer to,” Zarifa continued, once everyone was seated, “we can always ask for that.” She turned to Grant; “You’ve called Valour, right?”

Grant blinked, the words taking a few seconds to register, before grimacing sheepishly. “I’ll go do that afterwards, promise.” Bruin sighed, but Zarifa simply nodded. She’d always been a lot more forgiving of his scatterbrain than Bruin.

“I’ll do the same with Lottie. Assuming she’s, well, alive. She probably won’t answer, but it's worth a shot.”

“Thought Lottie didn’t give us her number?” Grant said, Bruin mirroring his confusion. Zarifa stiffened, smile dropping by a minuscule amount.

“She didn’t, but I know how to get in contact with her,” she stated, in her best assertive tone. Before Bruin could ask what she meant by that, she powered on, bulldozing in a purposeful manner. “What about you, Bruin?”

Bruin racked his mind for a good answer, recalling what needed to be done, and all the archival systems they had buried in the husk of a computer. “Every item has a corresponding ID, and a short descriptor. I wouldn’t mind taking a look at both the system and the antiques . However, we’re all out of gloves, and our magnifying glass has been broken for two months, so I’ll head to the shop first.”

While this was completely true, Bruin did leave out the little detail that it was also beyond time to see Marcus again. Through a mix of nightly hauntings, and antique mishaps, the days had somehow slipped by without them having a proper chat. He didn’t so much mind the lack of interaction, as the guilt that came with it.

“Thank you,” Zarifa said with a smile, “and, if it isn’t too much of a bother, please keep an eye out for any… unusual sights.” He nodded, her shoulders slumping down visibly, even under the thick cream turtleneck. Grant then promptly slipped out of the room to give Valour a ring with his smashed phone, and Zarifa headed out the front door and into the shop to tidy what was left of the mess, leaving him all alone.

He buried his hands into his neatly combed hair, tension deflating like a balloon as he exhaled heavily. His head was being squeezed by a thick rubber band, though whether it was the usual sleep deprivation or stress was anyone’s guess, and his eyes were droopy and heavy, as if magnets were attempting to pull them closed.

Nevertheless, he got up, pulling his winter coat and messenger bag off the chair. He left the scarf and hat where they lay, feeling they were a bit over the top considering it was only October. Slipping the black notebook into the black and purple bag, he headed out the door, and towards the outside world, heading in a general life direction he was not fully comfortable with.

[perriewinklenerdie]

Do no harm (Ethan x MC)

Open Heart, Ethan Ramsey x MC

A/N:  Hi guys! How are we doing? We got some info this chapter, huh? Not everything was what we expected (yes, Louise, I'm looking at your 'reasons' for leaving), but the chapter, while it definitely could have been better (especially LIs heading in the direction of a committed relationship instead of pulling away, since, you know, MC just almost died? ffs?), but it did have some sort of a nice balance of humor, romance (a bit, i'll give you that pb), medical cases and serious issues. My brain tried to think of a rewrite, but as soon as the chapter ended, my attention was pulled towards the idea of a certain conversation that could potentially happen between C and Louise (I don't see pb doing it, but who knows, it's pb). So here we are :D

I struggled a bit with what was supposed to happen in this conversation, simply because I didn’t want to overstep or make light of what the situation was. This is what I came up with, I hope I didn’t screw up too badly.

Summary: Some time after Louise moved to the rehab clinic, Claire decides to visit her and talk to her alone.

Enjoy! <3

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

„You want to do what?” Ethan sighed, leaning against the wall on the far end of the diagnostics office, his arms folded across his chest. Claire smiled timidly, taking a hesitant step in his direction, throwing a quick look over her shoulder to make sure they were truly alone.

“I want to borrow your car.”

“And just why would you need it?” he asked, observing how she stumbled over the explanations. It wasn’t that he didn’t want her to drive his car; she’s done that before, so he knew she’d be safe. “If you need to pick something up, I can drive you.”

“I know, but the store closes in thirty minutes and we can’t both leave the hospital for that long. I’d go by bus, but the books are incredibly heavy. I’ll be back before you know it, I promise.”

His eyes focus on her, on the way she shifts her weight from her right to her left foot, anxiousness rolling off her in waves. Shaking his head, he fished out his car keys from his pocket, handing them to her.

“Please, be careful.” He muttered when the skin of their hands brushed against each other, sending a lone spark up his arm. Claire nodded, a mischievous grin appearing on her face when she dove towards him, kissing him on the lips briefly before retreating quickly, as though she only then remembered their own rule.

“Oops.” She winked at him, then walked out of the office in a great hurry, giving him no time to respond, but plenty of time to process what had happened. With a grin that made him look like a fool, he walked over to the desk and picked up one of the charts, reluctantly going back to work.

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

Books that Claire mentioned to Ethan had a very specific name. Louise Ramsey. And they just so happened to be in a driving distance, on the path that she dimly remembered from the trip they took not that long ago. She parked the car and turned the engine off, taking a moment to breathe in and out. It wasn’t too late to back out, Ethan’s words ringing in her ear like a warning.

No. She came there for a reason.

The same lady greeted her at the reception, smiling at her insecurely when she remembered how both Ethan and Claire threatened to make the facility close down if they even so much as thought about mistreating their patients.

“How can I help you?” the woman asked, her back a bit straighter. Claire stepped towards the counter, feeling a bit out of place.

“I’m here to see Louise Ramsey?” her voice shook only for a split second and she prayed that the receptionist didn’t notice.

“What’s your name, if I may ask?”

“Clarissa Herondale.”

Nodding, the woman smiled and turned towards the book she had on the desk, checking something that Claire couldn’t possibly know. A moment later she excused herself, picking up the phone and disappearing behind the door leading to the back room, leaving Claire alone with her thoughts. Hesitation began to drip into her mind. She no longer knew if she was doing the right thing. What if she didn’t want to talk to her? What if Ethan got mad at her?

She didn’t have more time to overthink everything, because at this exact moment the receptionist came back, smiling warmly at her. “Please, follow me.”

A short walk along an even shorter hall left her standing in the threshold of Louise’s room, by which point she was left alone. Ethan’s Mother was sitting on her bed, looking out the window in deep contemplation, an open book in her lap. Claire cleared her throat to gain her attention.

“Ms. Ramsey?” she called out, taking a hesitant step and then waiting for the invitation. If she didn’t want to see her, this was the moment she could tell her to go to hell. But that didn’t happen.

Louise’s face lit up in a smile, clearly happy that someone visited her, but surprised that it was her. Closing the book and setting it aside, she sat up. “Dr. Herondale! Please, do come in.”

Claire walked over to her slowly before, finally, sitting down on the chair by the bed. The older woman watched her every move, like she was analyzing her based on the way her feet worked. Sitting a close distance away from one another, Claire could almost see how Louise’s brain tried to work out the situation. She didn’t blame her; the only times they saw each other, besides that one time at the store, was with Ethan by her side. Now, they were alone, and that, if nothing else, was an entirely new territory for both of them.

“To what do I owe the pleasure?” Louise asked, smiling at the woman that she knew for a fact, held an important place in her son’s life. Ethan most likely didn’t know that she knew, but it was impossible for her not to notice how he acted around the young doctor. If there wasn’t anything between them now, there definitely would be something between them in the future.

“I wanted to check in on you, see how you are settling in.” Claire responded with an unreadable expression. Not giving too much information, prompting questions.

“Does Ethan know you’re here?”

“No. He doesn’t.”

That surprised Louise. In the blank face of Dr. Herondale, she could suddenly see wild determination, like she was on a mission and she’s just found the purpose of it. Her entire posture changed into a straighter and more serious one, but right as the blonde opened her mouth to speak, her gaze turned soft, like she was thinking about something she felt deeply for. It didn’t take a genius to know exactly what, or more specifically, who the young doctor what thinking about.

“You care about him. Ethan. You two are together.” Louise added things up, coming to the only logical conclusion. The blush that immediately appeared on Claire’s cheeks only proved her theory to be correct. “He cares about you too, though I’m sure you already know that. He’s got that look in his eyes.”

Claire let her gaze fall onto her shoes, unsure how she should proceed. They were extremally careful around the hospital, but outside, that caution was nonexistent. For Louise to put the pieces together that fast, it meant that they were either entirely obvious or just so taken with each other that no amount of plotting could hide it.

“Alan thinks so too, by the way.” Louise continued, smiling knowingly at the young woman in front of her. Deciding that she’s made her point clear, she moved back to the subject at hand. “I’m so happy that you came to see me. Ethan visited two days ago, and Alan is here almost every day, but it’s nice to see a new face for a change.”

“I know Ethan visited you. He, uh, he asked me to come with him.” Claire twisted her fingers nervously, confirming further what the older woman already knew.

“Why didn’t you?”

“I thought that you two should have the opportunity to talk alone, so I stayed in the car.”

Louise nodded in understanding, the silence falling between the two women like an itchy blanket that made you more uncomfortable with each passing minute. Something didn’t add up about the situation they were in currently, and someone had to break the ice.

“Why are you here, Dr. Herondale?” she asked, watching the doctor with curiosity. She knew that Ethan didn’t send her there, otherwise he would have known about it. Something else was at play here. Claire’s face morphed from looking mildly unsure to troubled in a matter of seconds.

“One way or another, Ethan is a big part of my life.” she began explaining, unsure how much of her relationship should she let Louise know about. “I’ve been by his side when he learned that you wanted to talk to him again. He was with me that day when we ran into each other in the store.” Louise’s face twisted at the memory of the day she met Claire for the first time, not knowing who she was at the time. “I was with him when you came to the hospital. I don’t want to talk about your reasons for leaving, or about what happened while you were gone. I don’t want you to tell me anything about that, because it’s not me you should be telling that to. It’s Ethan and Mr. Ramsey that should hear it. If Ethan decides that he wants me to know about it, he’ll tell me himself, when he feels ready.”

As she finished the sentence, Claire felt out of breath. Louise’s eyes hardly left hers, observing her with intensity that kicked the air out of her lungs; like she knew something and was waiting for Claire to confirm it. Shaking her head, Ethan’s Mother spoke once more.

“If you’re not here to find out the truth about anything, then why are you here? Without Ethan even knowing?”

The blonde doctor cleared her throat, taking a deep breath to steady and remind herself that this is what she came there for in the first place. “I want… need to hear you say that you won’t hurt him again.” her voice was filled with desperation and the fierce protectiveness was evident in the way she spoke. “He’s been through enough, he doesn’t deserve to fall apart again.”

Louise watched the woman in front of her, speaking about her son with the depth of emotion that made her own heart ache. She’s wasted so many years while being away, hurting him beyond belief, but to see him have someone who wants to take care of him made her smile in relief. He had someone that smoothed out his rough edges and parted the clouds in the sky when they appeared. It’s all she could ever want for him.

“I’ve spent the last ten years thinking how to apologize and wishing I had enough courage to do so.” She tried to assure the younger woman, to no avail it seemed, as the next words that rang in the room were accompanied by a shake of the head that made blonde locks flow gently. Her voice, however, was stern and determined.

“Not what I asked for, Ms. Ramsey.”

“I promise I’m not here to hurt him. That’s the last thing I want.” Louise tried again, knowing that she would have to uncover all the thoughts she had hidden within her mind. “Even if he lets me see only a fraction of who he is, that will be enough.”

Claire considered what was said, then nodded slowly. Her shoulders fell in relief, her face breaking out in a fleeting insecure smile. “I’ve never been that person, to threaten others. Having said that, though, be warned.” She leaned forward a bit, schooling her expression into a serious one again. “If you hurt him, or Alan, you’re going to regret it. Are we clear?”

“Crystal, Dr. Herondale.” With a serious tone, the older woman nodded, understanding that the younger one wasn’t kidding. Claire breathed out deeply, clearly thankful that it was over. She glanced at the clock, her eyes widening in slight horror.

“I really have to go. I took a break from work, and while my boss doesn’t have a problem with that, I should get back to my patients.” She smiled as she said that, shaking her head in mock obviousness. “I promised Ethan I’d be back quickly, and I want to talk to him before my shift picks up again.”

As she stood up from her seat and turned towards the door, Louise spoke up again. “I hope we can talk more, some other time.”

“We’ll see.” Looking over her shoulder, the blonde allowed herself a hint of a melancholic smile. “Take care of yourself.”

-----------

Ethan was waiting for her to return in the same place she left him two hours prior. Sat on the couch with an article in his hand, he greeted her with a smile that got wider with every step she took towards him. She handed him the keys, standing in front of him in a safe distance. They didn’t say anything at first, the wordless atmosphere eventually getting cut short by Ethan.

“How’s Louise?” he muttered, looking up at her just in time to register her surprise, followed immediately by guilt. His knee nudged hers to reassure her that he wasn’t mad or upset. “The receptionist called me. The only people authorized to visit her are my Dad and I.” he clarified, making her face light up in understanding.

“So, you knew? And you didn’t stop me?”

“I believed you would tell me anyway. Though, I must say, I’m curious about the reason for your trip.” Ethan explained, wrapping one arm around her hips to pull her closer to him. She fell onto the couch with a giggle, trying to break her fall with her hands.

“She’s okay; a bit surprised that I was the one to walk through the door, as you can probably imagine.” She smiled at how a fraction of stress left his body at her words. “I wanted to hear her say it. That she wouldn’t cause you more pain.” Claire told him, muttering after looking at him in silence for a while. Ethan’s gaze softened at her words. “I even threatened her.” she recalled in disbelief, unsure how she managed to do it, given how unlike her it was.

“Is that so?” his smile grew wider, his eyes sneaking a look at the hall outside the office before he allowed himself to display his affection towards her. “My fierce ‘whatever-we-want-to-be’.” He whispered, inching closer to her. Them being in the hospital was the only thing that kept him from moving her into his lap. Instead, he stroked her calf with his foot, the corners of his lips rising higher.

“I don’t think she expected that.”

“I didn’t either.” He nudged her shoulder with his own teasingly. She scoffed, focusing her gaze at him with a mix of seriousness and playfulness.

“Hey, I feel protective of my ‘whatever-we-want-to-be’, okay? No one is hurting you on my watch.” Claire grinned happily, leaning into his touch when he brushed her hair behind her shoulder and kissed her forehead. Ethan smiled to himself at the feeling of warmth that flooded his chest, three words rising to the surface in his mind and almost falling from his lips.

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