#I’ll spare all the regular tags until she’s actually done

[mscribblz]

Got to return to this WIP for a bit today~

[marvels-bitch-boy]

Emerald Eyes: Chapter 5

Chapter 5: (Y/N’s POV)

Word count: 2k

A/N: this honestly was awesome to write, like I'm hoping I got the protectiveness of Clint right, and then change in attitude. Also, I hope you find the same stuff I laughed at for like 20 minutes while writing funny. Other than that Enjoy the Chapter and if you wanna be added to the tag list fill out the form and give me some suggestions and your Vote for our endgame!

Chapter 4 , Chapter 6

Your first week of training with Natasha seemed to be going well, everytime you got pinned, had to tap out or take a break (which was not often, so you had to pretend a few times) she would tease you which started to become something you actually enjoyed, you liked how creative she would get with a few of them. Every so often she would make comments regarding something Steve said about you “not being a regular recruit” and “you’re something special, apparently” is all she would say about it, you were glad that steve didn’t tell her about your enhancements. You hadn’t told anyone yet, not even your -self-appointed -“best friend” Pietro, who you know would understand more than the others at the compound, but you just couldn’t risk anyone knowing especially the person who is in charge of your training at the compound. If Natasha did know or had a suspicion of you, you couldn’t tell from the way she acted around you.

It wasn’t until her friend Clint came back from “personal time” did she start to act different, at first nothing changed she acted as she normally does around you, but after your first meeting with Clint something changed…

“Hi, I’m SWORD Agent (Y/L/N), its great to meet you... Agent Romanoff has told me about you” you greet him with a smile and an outstretched hand, he returns your smile with an indifferent look and refusing your hand “nice to meet you…” he says as his eyes scan you as if he is looking for something, and then he turns to Natasha with a wide smile “soo...Nat how about we head to the team dinner now? I don’t want Thor to get all the good stuff” Natasha turns to you with a surprisingly gentle smile “I’ll see you tomorrow, okay?” you return her smile with one of her own as you back away from the two “yeah, have fun…” you give Clint a small wave goodbye “...nice meeting you, Agent Barton” he doesn’t pay you any mind as him and Natasha walk off down the hallway.

---

You run into him a few times over the next few weeks around the compound after that, but none that stick out to you as much as when you were running around the track outside the compound while Natasha watched and wrote a few things down on her notepad every so often, you had noticed Clint walking up to her and just assumed it was regarding avengers business, but when Clint reached Natasha he just watched you run and would look at the redhead beside him a few times before his stoic expression slowly turned into one of surprise as his jaw dropped, he said something into her ear which made her finally look up at him. You couldn’t tell from where you were, but from the way she grabbed his arm and led him inside through the glass doors, she was either mad or something really bad had happened.

As you got closer to the side of the track they previously occupied you stopped for a sip of your water and watched them through the glass, Natasha seems to be annoyed while Clint just looked up at the ceiling with a huge smile and his arms crossed, Natasha however just shook her head and walked outside back to the track, she saw you and gave you a short smile that didn’t reach her eyes, when she came up to you she motioned for you to go back inside the compound you assumed that this meant training would be more sparing or shooting, but she didn’t move from her spot, you called out to her “you coming?...can’t really continue training without you” she looked up at you with an emotionless expression “you’re done for today, eat and rest and we’ll be back here tomorrow morning” this confused hell out of you, the entire that you’ve been training with Natasha she has not once let you go early if anything she keeps you for longer. You could tell something was up but you didn’t want to intrude so you simply walked back into the compound where you were greeted by Clint who was suddenly cheery to see you “Hellooooo, (Y/N)...I just realized I never asked how you’re liking training with Nat, is she fun? Keeping you on your toes?” this sudden change in mood from the two of them confused you even more.

“I’m finding it nice...she seems to know what she’s doing and she’s highly skilled, it was nice of steve to assign her to me” Clint’s brows furrowed at that last part but his smile didn’t fade “Oh...she told you Steve assigned her to you?...” you nodded because that is exactly what she had told you after your first training session “...big blue told me that she requested to be your partner, hmm I wonder why?-well I better get going have a lovely evening!” he pats your shoulder as he walks past you and down the hall, you stand there for another minute before continuing back to your qu-room -as Pietro kept insisting you call it- and called it a day before heading to the library to relax. You waited for a few hours for the young woman that you would talk with on the other side of the shelf, she had stopped showing up a few weeks prior and so you decided to head back to your room and attempt to get some sleep after the day you had.

Time Skip--3 weeks

After about a month of training with Natasha and getting lessons on “how to live” with Pietro you’ve started to feel comfortable around the compound, Natasha seemed to get back to her normal behaviour after a few weeks since her talk with Clint that had changed his mood about you suddenly, you were even invited to the avenger’s movie night by Pietro, it was a little weird when you first sat down though...

Pietro had asked Natasha if it was okay for him to join your training for the day and she knew he was lonely since his sister’s mission so she allowed for him to join a few exercises, once your session was over he was very quick to stop you when you were heading to leave the room.

He whizzes from his spot across the room to right in front of you as he beginnings “so dude, I was thinking...maybe you wanna join us for movie night?” he gives you desperate eyes that he always uses when he wants something.

You give him a “really?” look because you were pretty sure Natasha would object to this idea, “umm, well...I don’t know man, is the team cool with me crashing?” He nods and calls out to Natasha who is making her way towards you two.

“Is it cool if (Y/N) crashes movie night tonight?”

Natasha’s lips go up into a small smile -that you have been very oblivious to the fact that she only does it when someone says your name- as she responds to Pietro’s inquiry “well I think it would be a great idea, the team wouldn’t mind at all I’m sure”

You give a small smile before answering “I don’t really have a choice, do I P?” Pietro gives you a big grin which is all the answer you need, he was definitely going to bring you to movie night if you agreed or not “nope! Now tell me what do you like to snack on during comedies?” you tell him what your favourite candies are and he says goodbye as he rushes out to grab the snacks for the whole team and now you.

Natasha is already making her way down the hallway when you call out to her “You really had to give him an answer?” she lets a small giggle escape her lips as she continues walking.

---

You get into a few of the new casual clothes that Pietro helped you buy as part of his “how to live” lessons, and make your way to the avenger’s common room, it is much nicer than you imagined and is filled with a lot of comfortable looking furniture, as you enter you are greeted by Pietro of course, who is setting up the snacks on the coffee table in the middle of the room, and then Steve who is grabbing beverages from the fridge in the kitchen, he hands you a beer but you decline.

“I don’t really drink, but thank you” as soon as you say this Clint and Pietro appear next to you. Pietro has a faux look of sympathy and Clint is giving you a look that says “don’t worry we aren’t gonna judge you” as he takes one of the beers from Steve. Pietro presses the drink into your hand and looks you in the eye as he speaks slowly “Lesson. Number. Three, dude...relax a bit” you hesitate at first but reluctantly accept the drink and thank Steve once again. You see Bruce enter with Tony hot on his trail ranting about one of their new inventions “Brucie, I’m telling you this would only take a few- um I’m sorry who are you? who is this?” he says pointing to you.

“Oh um, hi I’m Agent (Y/L/N)-*Pietro elbows you and gives you a LooK* (Y/F/N)-I'm (Y/N) -this was another lesson from the speedster "use your first name more"- Pietro invited me to join you all tonight” you say before taking a sip of beer to calm your nerves, he looks over to Pietro “you keep bringing the agents your shacking up with to movie night and I’ll ban you again” you spit out some of your drink as he says this and proceed to cough while you try to correct him “n-no *cough* we-we are not *wheezes before coughing again* we *clears throat* we are not together sir...I can promise you that, I am-I am very much into women” Pietro is laughing on the floor after falling over while all of this is happening and cursing that he didn’t have a camera. Steve is patting your back to make sure you’re okay and Clint is giving you a cheeky smirk as he walks over towards the TV area.

Once you and Pietro are both recovered from that spectacle, and you say hello to Bruce, and everyone goes and takes their seats, Steve takes an armchair, Tony takes an identical one next to him and Bruce takes the one next to Clint, Pietro goes and sits in front of the coffee table facing directly at the screen, as you look around you notice that one redheaded Russian is missing from the group, you shrug it off and go to sit down on the couch that is behind the coffee table as soon as you get comfortable though the entire team is staring at you with wide eyes and concern...all except for Clint who is looking at you as though he is calculating something in his head.

You look at all of them before you speak up “umm...is something wrong? Did I get beer on my shirt or something?” Bruce opens his mouth to speak before everyone turns their heads to the direction of footsteps coming their way, as you turn your head to look you are greeted by yet again a pair of mesmerizing emerald eyes that don’t connect with yours as they scan the room before landing on you, you wave and give a small smile to the owner of those eyes as she looks like she is contemplating something for a second before shrugging slightly and making her way over to the couch and sits next to you, far enough away that you are both sitting comfortably on the couch.

“Hi” is all you can muster to say in front of her, she gives you another small smile and responds “Hi..." she waits a moment before asking you "...could you pass me a drink please?” you reach over to the coffee table in front of you both and grab her the only beer left on the table, as you hand it to her, her fingers brush yours and you nearly drop the bottle, she lets a small giggle escape as she thanks you and turns to face the tv before adjusting herself to be comfortable in her seat, as you turn to look forward you can see Clint giving you a wink and Pietro looking over at Steve with absolute bewilderment and Steve returning it with a look of his own before he presses play on the movie.

TagList:

@littlewinchester15 @ethanwoods1 @nektotersh

[thefanficmonster]

Stargazing

Ethan Winters x Mia Winters (Resident Evil Biohazard)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Romance, Fluff

Summary: A year after the events that took place at the Bakers’ residence and the three years of Mia being missing, the Winters spouses have finally been healed enough to start getting back into a regular lively rhythm, nevertheless haunted by the nightmare they lived through. 

Requested by Anon. Hi dear! Sorry you’ve had to wait so long for your request but here it finally is! They deserved so much better and I’ll never stop saying that! Sorry for the brief rant, still, hope you enjoy the read! Love, Vy ❤

Holding Ethan’s hand tightly, Mia follows his instructions to keep her gaze down at the ground and avoid looking up as much as possible. She’s been having a hard time containing the smile on her face, biting her bottom lip a lot to prevent it from showing. Same as she’s had a hard time keeping quiet with her guessing games of where Ethan’s taking her. The man’s unbreakable though, never once was he tempted to let her in on what he’s planned.

It’s been a year since the Baker incident and all the couple has done is switch from one coping mechanism to another. They got stuck in a sort of therapy-work-therapy cycle where they threw themselves in their work and periodically went to their psychiatric appointments, never daring to nudge the topic at home amongst themselves. It was enough that the whole night has remained as a dark cloud hanging over their heads, addressing it has simply been to painful so they’ve steered clear of the topic the best they could.

However, an important thing to note about this coping cycle they created is that it drove all the other mechanics in their lives and their relationship to become routinely and mechanic as well. There was little to no feeling in all they did - not that they ever did much together except have dinner and sometimes breakfast, both of them fully indulged in their work the rest of the day. Work became their therapy eventually, leaving little time for one another and for fixing what’s been broken between them. This conclusion bothered them both to no end but neither wanted to address it out of fear of disturbing the other.

Luckily, Ethan didn’t feel the need to bring it up before taking action.

“Here we are!“ He announces eventually, causing Mia to snap her head upwards without a second to spare, curious eyes doing the best they can to take in the dark surroundings. 

Surprisingly enough, she doesn’t have any problem with the dark. What happened back in Louisiana didn’t give her a phobia of the dark or of ships as her therapist initially thought she’d develop. However, she’s got a huge fear of bugs and insects now - especially mosquitos. Count on her husband carrying anti bug spray wherever they go - now is no exception.

As her eyes slowly adjust to the darkness of their surroundings, it doesn’t take her a while to realize they’re in an open yet secluded field. She’s not the slightest bit surprised by where he’s taken her, in fact, she recognizes it immediately. It’s the spot of their first official date.

“Who knew going to that dorm party would be the best thing I’d do in my life.“ He mumbles under his breath, admiring the sparkles in her eyes as she takes in the beautiful field bit by bit, letting the reel of memories play back, taking her all the way back to that first year of college, that fateful night when they met, followed by the night they came to this field.

“Who knew overcoming my fear of heights at an early age would’ve helped me find the man I’d eventually marry.“ She replies, turning to look at him, their gazes locking in place, both of them no reminiscing on those events they hadn’t recalled in a very long time.

2006

The humidity doesn’t suggest that the summer months have already ended. In fact, the air is still as unbreathable as it was in July and August, making the students who have to return to their studies super conflicted, longing for those beach days with little to no responsibilities. Given that no one is ready for the school year to start, the professors included, the first few weeks of college have been rather stress-free for Ethan. Well, that is if you don’t include the agony of moving into college as a freshman from an entirely different state.

Why he chose to go to college in Texas is a question he still doesn’t have a proper answer to. It was an impulsive, basically overnight decision, one that rattled his parents to no end when he announced it. However, having his own income and savings for college purposes, they couldn’t really do much in stopping him but they didn’t support him either. They kept trying to change his mind until the very last day but alas he stood his ground and now here he is, in his college dorm, trying to read a book while there’s a raging party going on just two floors above. The music is so loud though that is sounds more like it’s taking place in his closet instead. 

His roommate went up to help set the party up, only putting mild effort into getting his Cali-boy roommate to tag along and join the shenanigans which Ethan appreciated. Parties have never really been his scene so he knew he would’ve kept refusing no matter how much he tried getting him up there.

Finding the read hopeless due to the distractions, Ethan ditches the book and lays back on his bed staring at the ceiling, feeling like a fish out of water, ready to suffocate any minute. The AC in the dorm is faulty so it’s not serving its purpose properly, leaving the air at the same temperature as it would be had the device not been turned on at all. He’s stranded on things to do, feeling awfully caged in this new environment without any proper entertainment, going even as far as to second-guess if his parents were maybe right all along.

Fortunately for him, just then, his roommate bursts in, humming along to the song that’s currently being played at the party, never missing a tune even in his clearly intoxicated state.

“Hey Winters, aren’t you Californians supposed to know of a good time? You’re disappointing me right now.“ Jared slurs, laughing a bit as he leans against the wall to keep himself to his feet.

Ethan can’t help but scoff, “Thought I’d be a party animal? Sorry for the letdown.”

Jared laughs, shaking his head, “Come on, Cali. You have two semesters to be sulking around, it’s too early to start. Listen, one beer and thirty minutes, that’s all I’m asking you for. If you like it you can stick around. If not, feel free to leave. Just please give it a shot. How else are you supposed to make friends?”

Ethan stops to contemplate for a second, weighing his options. Jared takes this as a hopeful sign, seeing as how his offer wasn’t immediately turned down as it was the first time. Finally, the blond sighs in defeat: “Ok, but thirty minutes only.“ He says as he slides off the bed, briefly looking at himself in the mirror and deeming his appearance decent enough for a dorm party. As a very new student, he’d like to make a good first impression on his classmates but given that they’re all probably wasted, he’s not stressing too much over his looks at the moment.

Following Jared up to the floor of the party, he’s immediately handed a beer which he accepts with little hesitation. His roommate goes around introducing him to a few people before he disappears with some girl he claims has been his on-again-off-again girlfriend since sophomore year of high school - Sarah. Ethan, of course, doesn’t stop him despite hating the ide of finding himself stuck alone in a crowd of people he’s seeing for the first time in his life. Still, he sticks to the deal: thirty minutes and a beer...ok, two beers, but they’ve done nothing to make him enjoy this party.

So, off he goes to search for Jared to tell him he’s leaving. Thinking he saw the dark haired girl he went off with going up the stairs to the roof, he quickly follows.

Little does he know, that’s not the dark haired girl he’s looking for. That’s Mia

Mia, the rowdy, outgoing Texas tomboy who, unlike Ethan, thoroughly enjoys going to parties and having a good time with her friends and a few drinks. However, even a party animal such as herself sometimes needs to take a breather especially when people are smoking cigarettes as though they’re inhaling air and she’s never tried a cigarette in her life and is actually quite against the idea. She found this rooftop to be her prefect hideaway whenever she felt like her surroundings would suffocate her. Students were strictly instructed that climbing up there would earn them a penalty but that didn’t bother her in the slightest - She’s been frequenting the roof already and it’s been barely a week of her fresh start in college. Luckily, she got over her fear of heights at the tender age of twelve so this journey to quite a high point doesn’t pose as much stress as it would’ve about a decade ago.

As she lies on the floor, looking up at the starry night sky above, she nearly jumps out of her skin when another voice calls out to her presumably though it’s not using the correct name.

“Hey, um, S-Sarah? Have you seen Jared?“ 

Mia turns her head as she sits up, one eyebrow raised as she takes a good look at the silhouette which this voice belongs to. It’s pretty dark so even if she knew him, she wouldn’t be able to recognize him but judging by the voice, this is not someone she’s familiar with. And judging by the accent, this guy is not from around here.

“I’m not Sarah, but if you’re looking for Jared Letterwood, I can guarantee he’s in Sarah’s dorm.“ Mia chuckles, “I’d know. Sarah’s my roommate.“

Ethan cringes at the thought, “Yikes, you’ve got it rough. I mean, Jared’s my roommate but so far I haven’t had to leave the dorm for him to...you know. Hope I never have to.” Suddenly, an idea strikes him, “Wait, where are you gonna sleep tonight?”

She laughs, lying back down with her arms folded behind her head, “Right here.” She drags out the words as she adjusts her position a little, eyes fluttering closed. “Stargazing helps me fall asleep. The whole ambience up here is just...perfect, you know. Jared and Sarah are really doing me a favor.”

Ethan can’t help but scoff, “Call me crazy, but I’ve never stargazed in my life. I don’t know, never really saw the whole appeal. Sure, it’s cool to see in a movie or whatever, but it’s got no real purpose in real life. Not that I’m trying to bash your hobby or anything...”

Before the clueless blond could finish his statement, Mia’s already snapped up in a sitting position, giving him a narrow-eyed glare he can’t really see in the darkness. Her hand taps the spot next to her, “Don’t knock until you try it, Cali boy. Come’ere, see what you’re missing out on.”

Though reluctant, Ethan takes a few steps forward, stopping for a second to ask: “Wait, how’d you know I’m Californian?” Regardless of his confusion, he sits his ass down as he was told, awkwardly laying down so that there’s half a foot or less between their bodies so he doesn’t accidentally touch her and run the risk of freaking her out.

“I know a lot of things, Cali. Unfortunately, your name isn’t one of them. That being said, either you tell me it, or I’ll have to keep calling you Cali.“ She says teasingly.

“Ethan. My name’s Ethan.“ He says through a sigh, unable to contain the smile that spreads across his face.

A smile mimicking his appears on her face as well, “Nice to meet you, Ethan. The name’s Mia.“

Needless to say, the following morning Ethan woke up still on the roof, and surprisingly and terrifyingly enough, with the girl he barely met the night prior in his arms. Under the light of the newly rising day he could examine her features better, taking in her absolute beauty, her pale features contrasting her dark as the night hair. She’s still asleep so he can’t see her eyes but he has no doubt they are as beautiful as she is. Everything about her looks so delicate yet sharp simultaneously. And he’s simply in awe.

To avoid any awkwardness in case she wakes up, he falls back asleep, not even trying to remove his arms from around her body, silently hoping she won’t kick his ass for it. The next time he wakes up, an undecided amount of time later, he’s alone on the rooftop. Alone with a note that says: ‘Did you like it? If yes, I got a better stargazing spot to show ya. You know where to find me 

 ~ M‘

“And boy, was I missing out on something.“ Ethan whispers, gently running his fingers through his wife’s hair as they lay in that same field she was referring to in her note to him, gazing up at the stars, limbs intertwined, bodies completely collided.

“Told ya. Stargazing is incredible, ain’t it?“ Mia replies, snuggling closer though that’s simply impossible.

Her husband chuckles, his chest rumbling with the noise, “That’s not really what I meant.”

Her brows furrow but she doesn’t look at him, “Oh? Then what did you mean?”

With a content sigh, he replies, “I was missing out on having you in my arms, falling asleep and waking up by your side.“ He says, his lips planting a gentle kiss at the top of her head that has her melting in his embrace.

Mia’s not the romantic nor cheesy half of this relationship, quite the opposite, but she feels emotions to a way deeper level than Ethan would imagine her feeling. So, thankful to the darkness, Mia allows her eyes to gloss over with emotional tears as she rises up to collide her lips with his in a soft and tender kiss. 

“I missed you so much, Mia.“ Ethan whispers when they pull away, foreheads resting against each other.

“I promise to never make you miss me again, baby.“ She replies in a tone as hushed as his. As though they are both afraid someone would overhear this vow of theirs and try to force them to break it.

“That’s impossible.“ He says with a soft chuckle, “I always miss you at least a little.“

Mia hums in response, “Well, right now, you don’t have to miss me at all. I’m all yours. You’re the only thing on my mind, Mr. Winters.“

Even in the dark, she sees the grin that lights up his face, “As you are the only thing on mine, Mrs. Winters.” With that, their lips reestablish their contact, this time maintaining it longer, making it more passionate than before.

[wiyodreamz]

𝑽𝒊𝒗𝒊𝒅 𝑳𝒐𝒗𝒆 | 𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒘𝒂 [02]

⌜Nari is a college student at Seokhye University. One day she got off on the wrong foot with Seonghwa, throws her coffee on him and curses him out. Later that day she signs up for an internship at Hwa Corp. That same day, she learns that the same guy she threw her coffee at, is the CEO of that company. How will things go for Nari if she has a target on her back from that encounter? ⌟ Office AU

01 | 02

A/N: if you want to be on my taglist, dm or send me an ask with ur user.

Contains: fluff, angst, smut, alcohol drinking, cursing, and more as the story goes on.

Seonghwa X Fem!reader

Warnings: alcohol consumption and a heated makeout session

Tag list: @seonghwaskitten

Nari felt like she could hibernate after these few weeks. Mr.Park, or his real name Seonghwa which she learned from the workers, has been pushing her to her limits in the past week.

She was working on a PPT and then at the last minute before she had to hand it to him, he made her start all over again, making her want to hit her head on the wall for hours. Her appearance even shows that she was exhausted too.

“Did you just roll out of bed just to come here?” Dani remarked as she laughed at Nari appearance. Nari had very noticeable eye bags, even with makeup on.

“I’m not in the fucking mood Dani” she said as she glared at Dani and sat down at her desk.

“Ooh! A temper I see” Dani said in a snarky tone and then sat down at her desk.

“How many hours of sleep have you been getting, Nari?” Sunji asked as she looked at Nari concerned.

“About an hour or two, but the day he made me redo the ppt, I only got 30 minutes. So I’ve been functioning off coffee” she answered.

“Nari you’ll hurt yourself doing all those things! You looked stress...” Sunji trailed off as she looked and saw Dani glaring at her to be quiet.

“I know that I’ll have to stay up and finish the other things too, plus the stuff I have to do towards school to” she said as yawned sleepily.

“Moon Nari! As your friend I declare that once you get off work, you take a nice long shower to relax and sleep in until you can no more tomorrow! Because me and you are going out somewhere to distress!” Yunho declared as he stood up and that caused everyone to look at him. “And he’s at least nice enough to get us Fridays off.”

“Yunho you know I-“

“Nari we’re going tomorrow, no complaints or excuses!”

Nari laid back into her chair and rubbed her eyes. Taking a nice long shower and sleeping in sounds like heaven right now. She decided it would be best to with Yunho and she mostly can’t say no when he gets like that. She nodded sleepily at home and went back to working at her desk.

She was currently eating lunch and the same guy who made coffee came up and sat down in front of her.

“Are you sleeping okay?” He asked as he looked at her.

“I am” she said, not really wanting to make a conversation right at that moment.

“I can tell that you’re lying. Your eye bags or messy hair doesn’t help” he said. “Oh I’m sorry, my name is Hongjoong.”

Nari looked at him, “it’s fine. I’m Nari.”

“Aren’t you like close friends with Mr.Park?” She asked.

“Yeah I am. I never really see him work anyone as hard as he’s doing to you. Did you happen to piss him off or something?” He asked.

“Yeah, I sort of threw my coffee at home one morning” she admitted.

“You’re that coffee girl he’s always been complaining about?!” He asked shocked as she nodded.

“Yeah, now I wish I could go back in time and stop myself from doing that” she said as continued eating. She heard the clicking of shoes and looked up to see Mr.Park staring down at her coldly.

“Yah intern! I need these copied right now!” He said as he slammed a stack of papers right in front of her.

“Yah Mr.Park! Can she at least finish her lunch first and if she doesn’t have them to you ten minutes after her lunch, you can scold me alright?” Hongjoong suggested ad Mr.Park clenched his jaw and then sighed.

“You better be lucky that Hongjoong saved your ass” he said and then walked away.

“Thank you!” She said with a tired smile.

“You’re welcome and you better eat quickly, because even though we’re friends, he won’t hesitate to scold me harsh.”

It was now the end of the day and Nari, for the first time, she left with the other interns instead of staying over.

“You guys aren’t leaving yet” Mr.Park said as he came out his office. “Ms.Lee hand them the papers.”

“What are these papers for?” Dani asked as she looked at it.

“These papers are what rank you’re in” he said. “I’m also ranking you guys on your time management, workmanship, and how hard you’ve been working.”

“You’re ranking us?” San, a classmate that’s also going for the internship asked

“Of course, that’s how I’ll choose you guys in the end.”

Nari looked down at her paper to see her rank, but was angry at her rank. She was 10th, the last rank. How much time she put in while doing the work she was asked even overdoing it, the nights she stayed up to fix things up for him and other workers, and even staying a few hours over after everyone left. She crumpled the paper which made everyone turn their attention over to her.

“Aw, are you mad that you didn’t get the rank you wanted?” Dani asked in a mocking tone as Nari glared at her and saw the smirk Mr.Park was wearing.

She stormed away, despite hearing Yunho calling after here and made her way back to her apartment.

“How could he do that?! Ordering me around and stressing me out and giving me that last rank?! THE LAST RANK?!” She thought angrily as she walked inside her apartment building.

She followed Yunho’s advice and went inside the shower. The hot water felt so refreshing on her tense muscles, she swore she could fall asleep right then and there.

Once she got out the shower and into her pajamas, she felt relaxed and calm, but that feeling went away once she saw the balled up paper that fell from her coat pocket. She took it and threw it in the trash.

“Fuck you Mr.Park” she said angrily and then got into her bed. After a long time, she was going to get a full nights rest.

Nari was enjoying the amount of sleep she was getting, until her phone kept blowing up. She whined when she had to get up and go get her phone. She saw many text from Yunho

From Yunho [2:46 P.M.]: r u awake yet?

From Yunho [2:48 P.M.]: i see ur actually sleeping in

To Yunho [2:49 P.M.]: yeah i just woke up not to long ago. what do you need?

From Yunho [2:51 P.M.]: we’re going tonight like i planned yesterday.

To Yunho [2:52 P.M.]: like on a date??

From Yunho [2:53 P.M.]: of course not! we’re going to a dance club!

To Yunho [2:55 P.M.]: yunho, you do know I don’t do clubs or dance right?

From Yunho [2:57 P.M.]: well you better be ready at 7 because that’s the time I’m picking you up at.

The conversation soon ended and Nari thought she could spare a few more hours of sleep, she definitely deserves it by how hard she works.

It was now a couple of hours before Yunho came to get Nari. She decided to put on a simple dark red dress, that wasn’t too tight fitting on her. As she finishing getting ready, she saw Yunho’s car outside her apartment.

She grabbed her purse that had all her things that had her information on it just in case she was too drunk to respond to them, or they just find her asleep outside on the convenience store table. That has happened before. She walked outside and got into Yunho’s car.

“Still can’t believe I convinced you to go out” he said as he turned towards her.

“Most likely forced me too” she said as she crossed her arms. “I need it though”

The two soon arrived at a club. Nari could already smell the alcohol from the outside, she knew that the smell would be even stronger when they walk in and she was right. People were already drunk and were drunkily dancing on the dance floor.

“I don’t really want to dance, so I’m just going to sit at the bar” she told Yunho as he nodded.

“Once you’re ready to go, just send me a text or find me” he said and then disappeared on the dance floor.

She sighed and sat on one of the barstools as she looked over everyone getting drunk off their minds. She played with her hands nervously and turned towards the bartender. “Can I just have something random?”

The bartender nodded and went to go make the drink.

“Aah, classic Nari. Always doing this randomly” a voice said beside her. She turned to see her ex, Minhyuck, staring at her.

“What are you doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be with that girl you cheated on me with?” She asked as she sipped on the drink that was brought to her.

“Come on! It was a misunderstanding” he said as he leaned his body towards her.

“So seeing you deep inside another girl is a misunderstanding?” She asked in a state of shock. “Wow you’re ridiculous!”

He smirked at her. “And besides, I broke up with her.”

Nari watched him down his drink and intrigued on why he broke up with her. Minhyuck wasn’t the type of person to break up with a girl, he most likely cheats on them. “What did she do?”

“She was very distant and I honestly got very bored of her” he said as he swirled his second drink. “And I’ve miss you.”

Nari scoffed and rolled her eyes as she drunk the last of drink. “I haven’t missed you.”

She stared at her empty glass and decided to order another one, but Minhyuck stopped her. “Just put it on my tab.”

The bartender nodded and went back to their job. Nari turned to him. “So I guess you’re a regular here?”

“Yeah and I’m friends with the bartenders here. They owe me for the things I did for them” he said as he drink his new drink.

The two chatted for awhile. Nari hated to admit it, but Minhyuck was great person to conversation with, despite his personality and the things he’s done in the past.

As the minutes go on, Nari felt herself get more intoxicated. She felt Minhyuck hands on her thighs, but she didn’t due to her being intoxicated. He then leaned in and kissed her on the lips and she returned the kiss. If Nari was sober, she would’ve slapped him right then and there. But her drunken state told her to continue. Soon the kiss turned into a heated make out session, Minhyuck’s hand was creeping closer and closer to her core.

She felt dizzy and like she would faint any second, but that didn’t stop Minhyuck from kissing her neck.

“Min...Minhyuck can you please stop. I feel dizzy.” But once when she said that, her vision started getting blurry and she felt someone carry her.

The person who was carrying here suddenly dropped her and soon dropped to the ground right beside her.

“I’m glad I was keeping my eye on you bastard!” The voice said as they punched the person on the ground and then pick Nari up, she soon fainted after that.

Nari then woke up in a different setting that wasn’t her bedroom. She looked up and saw a more fancy bedroom, with a super huge window that showed Seoul. She looked down and saw she was wearing a shirt that was very large on her and saw black sweat pants. She can hear the shower coming from the bathroom and a note on the bedside table.

Take this medicine and eat this granola bar. You can see yourself out.

She took the pain medicine for her hangover and ate the granola bar and walked into the living room. It was bigger than her whole apartment and she made her way to door. It wasn’t hard to find her shoes, since hers were the only female shoes in the pile of men shoes, and walked out the apartment. She mentally told herself to run away if she sees Minhyuck in a place.

She was going to take the rest of the days to find out who that mystery man was and thank him for saving her.

[supernaturallyobsessedchic]

Save Him

Warning: A total rewrite of Carry on because…well…it’s shit. And maybe not from start to finish, the beginning half of the episode was good. No other warnings, just a feel good fic to help cope with the end of SPN.

Pairing: Dean x Reader

A/N: Events are after the fight with the vampires.

Word Count: 1,369

Mobile Masterlist

Summary: Sam and Dean go on one last hunt. But just before the older Winchester can accept his fate, his little brother fights for him one last time.

(My opinion, the acting was awesome. Jared and Jensen deserve all the Oscars after that performance. Just, story-wise, it’s shit. Too fast and rushed. And out of character, Sam didn’t even call 911, or put an attempt into saving Dean. They just accepted ‘fate’. After they said they’re better together, and worthless apart. Dean saying, he sees him retiring from the life in Season 13, and actually seeming like he was looking forward to it. Sure, it’s the only way to end the show, but too soon. Dean deserved more, and Sam’s kids deserve an uncle. The boys deserve to grow a family of their own. But that is just my opinion, Jensen and Jared will forever be my favorites.)

~

“It’s okay,” Dean says. Fighting off the pain as best as he could. “It’s okay, it’s good.”

“It’s good.” He says, smiling.

“No Dean, this is not good.” Sam argues. Clearly upset and freaking out his older brother is dying and there’s nothing he can do about it.

Unless…

“Jack!” he calls out, pacing the barn.

“Sam, don’t.” Dean groans. “He said he was hands off.”

“Jack if you can hear me, save him. You owe us that much!”

Moments later Jack appears in the barn.

“Jack, save him.”

“Of course, Sam. You don’t have to ask me twice.” Jack says. Snapping his fingers. Snapping the boys back to the bunker, Dean fully healed. Miracle running over to them, greeting them with licks and tail wags.

“But I thought—”

“I owed you guys that much. For all the things I’ve done to you, Mary. I just wanted to not only make it up to you guys, but to give you a proper chance at life.” Jack explains.

Dean stood there, speechless and taken aback by Jack’s reasoning. He was still wanting their forgiveness, and he did it by bringing Dean back to life.

“A proper chance?” Dean asked.

“I got Cas out of the Empty and we’re working on making a world just for monsters. So, this world can be free of them. No more monsters, no more hunting.” Jack says.

“That’s amazing Jack, thank you.” Sam says.

“Yeah, that’s awesome.”

Jack smiles on his family. “Anything for my family.” And vanishes.

“So,” Sam goes. “What now?”

“Now, we start living.”

 5 years later…

After 5 years of leaving the bunker and living the apple pie life. Sam, managed to get back together with Eileen, and have been married to her for two years. Sam working at a law firm agency, having gone back to law school, and graduated recently with honors.

Dean’s story. Dean always liked working around cars, he liked working with his hands. Dean tried his hand at school, wanting to open up his own garage. Not being a fan of being bossed around and such, following in Bobby’s footsteps. Opening a garage, scrap yard, fixing up cars, reselling them. Restoring them. At Winchester’s Restorations.

It wasn’t until a few years later, after his garage has been opened, and the Winchester’s are living comfortably in their apple pie life, he had a visit he didn’t know he was waiting for his whole life.

It was a stormy night, his garage normally closes around 8pm, later than most garages in Lawrence Kansas.

A car pulls up to his garage, sounding god awful. The engine making a noise even he didn’t like the sounds of it.

Hurrying outside, he urged the driver to shut off her car. She does so.

Grabbing her things, she gets out of her car.

“My car has been making this noise all day today, and just as I’m driving home from work the check engine light came on.” She explained. “Now, I know you do restorations, but what about just, regular like, garage stuff like fix up cars like mine.” She asked.

“I know what you mean, and yes, I do that stuff too. Let’s get you squared away so I can do it tomorrow.” Dean says with a smile.

They hurry inside to get out of the rain.

Dean grabbed the correct paperwork, having her fill out her information of her car and her contact information and the problem. And handing it back to him.

“Alright, I’ll start on it first thing tomorrow.” He tells her.

“Thank you so much.”

“It’s not a problem.” He says with a smile. “Do you have a ride home miss?”

“Um, no I don’t. I’m new to Lawrence.” She says.

“It’s totally fine, I have no problem giving you a ride, if you like.” Dean offered.

“I don’t know you.”

“Just thought I’d offer.” Dean says.

“My name is y/n. I’m from Nebraska, and I’m a writer.” She says.

“Dean Winchester, I’m was born and raised here.”

She nods. As the two get to know each other.

Dean happily gave her the ride, she accepted happily given the storm not lighting up.

As Dean sat outside her house, while she gathered her things and got ready to head in.

“I really enjoyed your company Dean, maybe you should call me some time.” She offers.

“I’ll take you up on that offer sweetheart. See you soon.” Dean smiles.

She smiles back, as she exits the impala, she’s taking a number of times looking back at Dean. She shuts the car door behind her, running inside so as to not get soaked by the rain.

Dean keeps an eye out to make sure she is in the house, safe and sound before driving off.

Only to make a turn seeing the road flooded. Turning around he tries another route to getting out of the neighborhood, getting the same road.

It had been raining all day that day, and well into the evening. It’s no surprise if the creeks and rivers have gone over their banks, or even the storm drains having a hard time keeping up with the rainfall. So, he drives back to her place.

Rings her doorbell. She opens the door after a few beats. Dressed in her more comfortable clothes, sweats, oversized t-shirt and a pair of big warm socks.

“Problem?” she asks, when she sees him.

“Roads are flooded, kind of trapped here.” He says sheepishly.

“It’s not a problem, come on in.” she offers

She had popped in a couple of frozen pizza’s in the oven while Dean got himself comfortable.

She headed up to her guest bedroom, where she had spare clothes stashed away. From number ex-boyfriends who have forgotten most of their clothes. She grabbed Dean a pair of sweats and a comfy t-shirt.

She heads back downstairs to offer Dean the clothes.

“I have some clothes, hope they fit.” She offers.

“I’m sure it’ll be fine, thanks sweetheart.” He says, taking the clothes.

“Bathroom is down this hall here on the left.” She points out.

Dean makes his way to the bathroom, getting out of his work clothes and into the comfy clothes offered to him.

The beeping of the oven going off as he exits the bathroom.

“Hope you don’t mind, I heated up some pizza.”

“It’s okay, I am starving, thanks for offering.”

She smiles, offering him a styrofoam plate of pizza.

 Dean spent the night that night, and every night since then.

After that night, they bonded over stories. She learned of the places he’s been, she knows he’s keeping a major part of his life secret. But maybe it is for the best that she doesn’t know the hell he has been through.

 As the years went on, Sam and Dean having families of their own. Sam had his son, who he named after his brother Dean. And Dean having him kids of his own, two boys, twins and a girl. Kevin, Jack and Charlie.

Monsters really were a thing of the past. But the people over the years up to this point, the people Sam and Dean have saved, made stories. Like heroes to legends.

They lived their life, happy and to the fullest.

Sam and Dean died of old age in their homes, surrounded by family and those they love.

 Up in heaven, where Bobby sat on the porch of Harvell’s Roadhouse and waited for the boys to enter heaven.

“It’s about time you boys showed up.”

“Bobby?” Dean asks.

“What memory is this?” Sam asks.

“This ain’t a memory. You’re not living in your golden years anymore. Rufus just lives about half mile that way. You’re parents there.” Bobby pointed out.

“Wait, mom and dad are here?” Sam asked. Bobby nods.

Sam taking off, Dean following him.

They catch a glimpse Dean’s Impala, with his old Kansas plates, KAZ 2Y5. Dean excited he sees his old baby again.

“Let’s go see our family.” Sam says. Dean smiles, agreeing.

Dean turning the key in the ignition of the impala, roaring the engine to life.

The radio playing Carry on Wayward Son by Kansas.

“God, I love this song.” Dean sighs.

“Same.” Sam says.

~

Dean Tag List:

@luci-in-trenchcoats​, @supernatural-jackles​, @becs-bunker​, @mlovesstories​, @winchesters-favorite-girl​, @winchest09​,

~

Copying and reposting someone else’s content is plagiarism and illegal. This work is property of supernaturallyobsessedchic. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. These works contain material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of these works may be reproduced in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system without express written permission from the author / publisher. An electronic reference link to the original posted work may be provided for purposes of promotion or assistance of publication by the readers discretion, if proper credits are given to the author in the re-post. 12/2/2020

[worldserasingandcreatinginmymind]

Enamoured | Part Two

Requested by anon: “could you write one where james mcavoy meets swedish y/n around micheal and his swedish wife and he’s enamoured. (also that he confuses her with an english girl because she’s got an english accent like me) xxxx”

“THIS IS SO CUTE I- I love it??? So much??? 11/10 would read a part two ooof I wanna read about these dorks on an accidental date in London SO BAD”

Summary: after being tricked into a ‘date’, James takes the reader on a tour of London

Pairing: James McAvoy x reader

Word Count: 1612

Warnings: very fluffy fluff

A/N: you guys requested part two so here we go, I hope you like it! As always, spelling and grammar are not my strongest skills so please be kind :)

Masterlist | Part One

- - - - -

‘have fun with James, don't do anything I wouldn’t do ;) xxx’

As you read the text from Alicia it sinks in that you’ve been set up. Your mouth falls open slightly in shock and you laugh to yourself, shaking your head. James turns to look at you, wondering why you aren’t following him. 

“Are you coming or…?” 

This may have been a set up but that doesn’t mean you cant enjoy yourself. 

“Sorry, yeah. No more distractions” you smile and drop your phone back in your pocket before catching up with him “where are we going first?”

“It’s a surprise” he winks playfully and you raise an eyebrow back at him.

He takes you to the nearest Underground station and attempts to explain all the different lines and zones, you both end up laughing as it all goes straight over your head. The underground system is complicated. When you get off he leads you up to Leicester Square and tells you stories of various movie premiers he’s attended there. You end up stood watching a street performer for a while until someone in the crowd recognises James and attention is turned on him and subsequently on you. When people start asking you personal questions and sticking cameras in your face he ushers you away from everyone and into a taxi. 

“Are you okay?” He asks quietly and you just smile and nod your head gently. He smiles back but you can see on his face something is bothering him. He doesn’t speak much for the rest of the short taxi ride until he asks the driver to stop. He pays him and you both get out, then James leads you into a small Italian restaurant. He waiter and James greet each other like familiar friends. 

“You want your usual table?” The waiter asks with a thick Italian accent.

“Please, thank you Mario” James responds and your lead to a candlelit table in a quiet corner of the room. 

Once sat the waited gives you menus and leaves you to decide what you’d like. Then you notice the prices on the menu.

“James, this place is expensive! I can’t-”

“Don't worry, its my treat” he cuts in

“No really-”

“My treat” he reaffirms and you sigh in submission

“Thank you” you smile

“No problem” he looks back at the menu for a moment then puts it down on the table and takes a breath. “I’m really sorry about what happened back there”

“Honestly don't worry about it, its fine”

“No it’s not fine for them to harass you like that. Don’t get me wrong, I love what I do and I wouldn’t want to do anything else I just wish sometimes I could switch it all off. You know? Be a ghost, or invisible or something. Have a day off from being James McAvoy and just be regular James. Ugh you must think I’m such an ass”

“No, no I get it. And I don't think you're an ass. I like regular James.” You pause “James McAvoy on the other hand… now he’s a bit of an ass” you wink and James bursts out laughing. 

— — — — 

When you finish lunch James pays and you leave the restaurant together. James continues his London tour by talking you to the theatre district, where he points out the many theatres he has performed in. A small gasp escapes your mouth when you spot the posters on the wall of the Lyceum Theatre. James looks at you and follows your gaze to see the you're staring at the Lion King. 

“I’ve always wanted to see that show” you say dreamily and James watches you. The look on your face gives him an idea. He hooks his arm around yours and leads you toward the theatre. 

“wh-what are you doing?” 

“trust me” he responds and he leads you around to the stage door. He knocks and a guy opens the door. When he sees James his eyes light up.

“James!” He booms as he fist bumps him

“Hey Andy, is Julie in?” James asks

“yeah, come in” he holds the door open and gestures you inside. He leads you through some doors till you meet a dark haired woman who hugs James.

“Hey Jules, this is Y/N.” James introduces and Julie smiles at you “She’s here from Sweden and she really really wants to see your show… don’t suppose you’ve got a couple of spare tickets for today’s matinee?”

“hmm.. I’ll see what I can do. But only because it’s you” she smiles at James before hurrying off. A few minutes later she appears again holding two tickets which she hands to James “sorted. Enjoy the show guys” and she hurries off again. You turn to James, a look of shock on your face.

“Oh, my, God! You're amazing!! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!!” You throw your arms around him and he laughs, hugging you back. You pull away and look into his eyes “really, thank you!” 

— — — — 

The show was incredible, although James found himself watching your reactions more than the show itself. The way your face lit up when you laughed, the way you smiled through almost the whole show and the way your eyes glistened when the show made you cry. He couldn’t help but reach out and squeeze your hand. 

“that was just, ugh, I have no words. No words” you say grinning from ear to ear as you leave the theatre together “thank you so much” 

“you know I think thats the 100th time you’ve said thank you” 

“101st actually” you grin “seriously I mean it, today has been the best day ever”

“its not over yet” 

As the day turns to evening you spend the rest of the day doing typical tourist things. You stand outside Buckingham palace where James tries, and fails, to make the guards smile. You visit Oxford street and look through the window of magnificent shops. You end up running around Hamley’s toy store together, playing with various toys until you almost get kicked out by one of the workers for plastic sword fighting but James bribes her with an autograph and a selfie. You finish the day with a moonlit walk by the side of the Thames before ending up back where you started at the bottom of the London eye. 

You turn to face each other. You're about to speak when James stops you. 

“don't say it”

“don't say what” 

“don't say thank you”

“why not?” You laugh

“because im not finished yet”

“but its late, surely we’ve done everything by now”

“there’s still one more thing we need to do” he smiles and points up at the giant wheel next to you. 

He leads you up to the entrance of the London Eye and you step inside one of the glass dome. Once inside you notice there’s a small selection of food and some glasses of wine waiting for you. 

“you cant say you’ve been to London if you haven’t been on the eye” James holds up his glass and you clink yours against it. You sit together on the bench in the middle of the dome, looking out across the contrast of the bright London lights against the dark sky. When the dome reaches the very top of the eye you stand up and walk to the edge, admiring the glittering city in front of you. James walks up to join you, putting his arm around you. 

“So, how did I do as a tour guide?” He asks.

“I think, you chose the wrong career. You’re a much better tour guide than you are an actor” 

James fakes hurt and you laugh, turning to face him.

“I’m kidding. You're amazing at both” you smile sincerely and lock eyes with James. He brings his hand up to your face. 

“I think you’re pretty amazing too” he smiles, before gently kissing you on the forehead. When he leans back his eyes flicker down to your lips. He leans in slowly, giving you chance to pull away but you don’t. His lips meet yours and you close your eyes as you kiss him back.

When the kiss comes to an end you giggle nervously, suddenly feeling like a blushing school girl, which makes James laugh.

“I think we should take a picture, I want to remember this moment” he says taking his phone out. He pulls you in with his arm around you and you both smile widely as he snaps a selfie, the lights of London in the background. 

Your ride on the eye comes to an end and James hails a taxi for you. 

“Thank you for an amazing day, you’re the perfect tour guide” you smile, and James takes your hands in his. 

“Well you're the perfect tourer… tour-ee? I don't know the word, but you get what im trying to say” he replies and you both laugh as he opens the taxi door for you to climb in. “text me when you're back safe yeah?” 

“will do” you nod and smile as he shuts the door. The taxi pulls away, leaving him standing alone by the road. A few minuets later a notification pops up on your phone. 

‘instagram: @jamesmcavoyrealdeal tagged you in a photo’

You click on the notification to see he’s posted your London eye selfie, with a simple smiley face emoji as the caption. You like the photo and put your phone back in your pocket only for it to buzz again straight away. You take it out to see a text from Alicia with a screenshot of James’ insta post.

‘oh my God tell me everything xxx’

[nikkywrites]

Firetruck Linen

Summary: This should not be hard. It was a simple purchase. Right?

This was for a pride week color thing thing originally, but I’ll just repost these as their own things. The writings, anyways. I don’t know if the aesthetic/moodboard things are gonna make it over.

Jackson is introduced! I still stand by the fact that not all my hero world characters are dumb teens. There are adults too who are decidedly less dumb. One day you will meet them.

A couple typos were fixed. that’s it. No warnings.  An anxious boy just tries to buy some linen at a craft store, totally not being awkward while doing so.

*****

Jackson hates the color red.

Which is kind of idiotic (and ironic) considering it wears it on a regular basis. Considering it’s a part of him as much as his blood is, something he willingly dons because of what he’s allowed to do when he’s wearing it, the freedom it grants him.

Red is a color he dislikes because it’s his freedom and his prison. Jail bars he can only ever peer out of to see the outside world. Something so simple that determines so much of him.

He figured out he had a power when he was eight. He’s spent every year since, minus that first one, hating it and most of it he also spent trying to repress it, smothering it in his chest like it’ll sputter out in the confines of his ribs to dissipate like ash in the wind.

All it does, however, is gnaw at his intestines like a parasite, burning away the lining to send smoke up his throat.

Heroing isn’t something he really has a choice in. He has to, if he doesn’t want to get hyperthermia or heat stroke or both. (He did, once, when he was nine in was the middle of winter when it made no sense. He was nine when his choice of his future was taken from him). He hates it, but at least he knows what he’s going to do when he graduates, so there’s that. 

That doesn’t make buying fabric in front of the eighty-year-old grandmother manning the register any easier, though. Especially since he’s, you know, a teenage boy in a craft store trying to buy half a yard of linen. But hey, sometimes you have to do hard things. Or awkward things. This was definitely the latter.

Sometimes he thinks he’d almost prefer the hyperthermia.

“This is crafting fabric,” she tells him, voice croaked and thin with age.

“I know,” he sighs, fists his hands behind the counter where she can’t see. “My, um, mom asked me to pick some up for her.”

Lie.

His mother was too busy for a time-consuming hobby and was absolutely horrible at crafts and sewing. But it doesn’t hurt anyone to fib about it. It’s just a little lie, not a crime (like unsponsored underaged vigilanteing). It was fine. Normal, even. Moms sent their sons on shopping errands all the time. 

She picks up the strip of firetruck red fabric with her nails. “So she sends you to grab half a yard of red linen? That’s all she needs?”

“That’s... what she told me to grab, yeah. I think she was running low?”

“Are you asking me?”

“No? No. That’s... that’s all. Please.”

“Alright.” She presses a few keys, pulling the fabric closer to peer at the tag. “Half a yard of red linen.”

He nods, feeling like a bobble head. “Yep.” He pops the ‘p’ and winces. “Half a yard of bright red linen for, uh,” his mind blanks on anything that can be made with linen, “...something. She didn’t say what.”

...and he wasn’t asked a question. Cool. Yeah. He was totally acting normal, just running an errand for his mother. Buying fabric for a perfectly normal home project and not to use as a half-baked mask that was going to be ruined in about a month, if he was lucky.

He knew he was somehow making this much worse than it needed to be, but he doesn’t know how.

He does know, however, that if he acts too off she might know what he’s really doing. Buying fabric to DIY a superhero costume. For vigilanteism. A punishable offense on two parts — unsanctioned Supers weren’t allowed to roam the streets and he was a minor.

Minors aren’t allowed. Period. It was too risky, too stressful, too much for any child to bear. He really wishes he had the option to wait until he was eighteen.

“Are you alright, dear?”

“Yes.” He responds too quickly, a little loud for the quiet bumble of the shop, snapping back into the situation at hand and not his runaway train of thought. “I’m fine. Why— why would you ask?” He narrows in on her eyes, wondering how people can see a soul past them. He just sees brown.

“You seem a little jumpy.”

He shakes his head. “No— I’m not... jumpy.” He laughs and it’s forced so he stops. Did that sound suspicious? It probably did.

She hums unconnectedly. “Alright. This’ll be $8.49.”He grabs at his back pocket and hands her a ten. “Keep the change,” he says, pretending his anxiety is the only thing making him think she knows. He smiles and it feels like the exact wrong move.

This would’ve been so much easier if he was a girl. He wouldn’t be questioned so much than and this could be a smooth experience.

“Here you go,” she says, holding out his now-bagged purchase, the curl of her lips smug.

He grabs it and ignores how his fingers fumble for the handle. “Thank you.” His heart pounds a rhythm in his chest, stirring up an urge to puke. He feels sick — does she know? Is she going to call this in? Is he done for? Has he finally been caught because he thought he had one more spare mask when he hadn’t?

That’s why he was here, though, because linen was supposed to be harder to burn than cotton. He needed something less flammable.

“Have a good day, hun. Be safe.

”His breath stills and he idly wonders where all the air went. “Yeah.”

Definitely. He was totally... going to do that.

Not.

Dang it, she really knew what he was actually doing, didn’t she?

He walks out the door and slaps his palm against his forehead as hard as he can. “Dang,” he whispers. “Should’ve just ordered it online and waited. Stupid. I was a wreck. That was horrible.” The heels of his hands press against his browbone, the plastic bag crinkling against his skin.

He sighs, feeling like the water running down the street and into the drain. He shoulda just — not done that. That was bad. That was really bad.

God, how was he so awkward? How did people hold normal conversations? He feels like his chest is about to implode.

He jimmies his phone from his pocket and types a note one-handed to his list of things to remember. He writes the name of the shop and in caps (for emphasis so later him will remember) writes not to ever go there again. Ever.

The little old lady behind the counter knew who he was. Maybe.

That, or he was just really paranoid. Or bad at reading social situations.

Something along one of those lines, probably.

[baepsaesbae]

Parang Kape Ko. Bittersweet. || Just Like My Coffee. Bittersweet

Pairing— Kim Taehyung x reader

Genre— Fluff/Romance, Enemies to Lovers au, coffee shop au

Warnings— None

Word Count— 1.8k

Summary— You work at a coffee shop with the most annoying person ever. Kim Taehyung. 

A/N— Thank you @kitsutaes​ for requesting! I hope you like it darling. You can still request drabbles up until the end of the August with this post

You couldn’t quite place it. Something about Taehyung made your skin crawl since the very first day you laid eyes on him. To make matters worse, your manager kept pairing you together for nearly every shift (she couldn’t help it, she thought you guys looked cute together).

You despised the way girls would giggle and try to subtly give him their number after ordering their drink. You rolled your eyes every time he’d wink and flirt back with them. Each shift with just the two of you was unbearable. 

Taehyung was naturally a player, anyone could see that. Women would swoon from a mere flash of a smile. They’d be putty in his hands with a simple wink. That being said, Taehyung was so taken aback when his charms didn’t work on you. He couldn’t figure out what he did to tick you off, but it seemed like you didn’t like him from the start. That was a concept he couldn’t fathom. 

It was like a never ending game of tag that you didn’t want to play, and you couldn’t risk Taehyung finally catching up to you. The more you showed your disdain for Taehyung, the more intrigued he’d be by you, thus spurring him to pester you even more. 

“Hey grumpy grump! How was your weekend?” Taehyung greeted you as you clocked in.

“It was fine. Yours?” you replied with indifference.

“It was chill, kinda lowkey. I actually found a cool hole in the wall restaurant that I thought maybe we could--”

“I’m busy,” you interrupted without looking at him.

“But I didn’t even say when--”

“You don’t need to. I’m very busy all the time,” you walked away to prep the machines before Taehyung could even reply. 

“C’mon, just give me a chance! It doesn’t even have to be a date. I genuinely want to get to know you. Why do you hate me so much?” Taehyung pouted as he followed you around like a lost puppy. 

“Prep the tables and chairs, please,” you commanded without acknowledging his whining.

“Yes ma’am. See? I’m such a good boy, I always listen to you,” he called out from across the cafe as he unstacked chairs. 

You ignored him. This was your normal routine every time you worked with Taehyung. He seemed to get a thrill every time he riled you up, so you’ve learned not to give him the satisfaction. Straight up ignoring him was the best way to go. 

Taehyung became preoccupied with taking orders once the customers started piling in. You absentmindedly made the drinks, a task that you could now do with your eyes closed. You thought about what Taehyung said. Sure, he’s an annoying prick who knows he’s too handsome for his own good, but does that really justify your hatred for him?

You hated to admit it, but Taehyung is the most handsome man you’ve ever seen in your life. Your heart fluttered every time he teased you, and though you gave off the impression that you wouldn’t care if he disappeared off the face of the Earth, you were secretly pleased with the attention he gave you. On occasion, you’ve caught glimpses of random girls glaring at you while Taehyung was messing around with you. 

You shook your head as you powered up the blender to make a double mocha frappe with 2 extra shots of espresso. What the hell were you thinking? This is exactly why you don’t like Taehyung. He lives in your mind rent free. 

“I think that frappe is blended enough,” Taehyung observed. He appeared out of nowhere, startling you.

“You good?” he asked with a hint of concern.

“I’m fine,” you answered curtly as you handed him the drink. 

“Frappe for Tiffany!” Taehyung called out before returning his attention to you, “I was serious earlier by the way. This little game of ours is fun, but I honestly want to get to know you. Plus, you never actually talk to me so I don’t know what I did to make you hate my guts or whatever. Unless you’re like a massive introvert or something. I’d respect that of course, but like I said I literally wouldn’t know that because you never talk to me so--”

“Okay! Fine! I’ll go with you to that stupid restaurant. Will you finally shut up now?” you snapped. 

“Aw, so you do listen when I talk to you. It’s a date! Or not, that’s up to you. You free after this shift?” he lifted his eyebrows with excitement. 

“Yeah,” you begrudgingly nodded. 

The rest of the shift flew by with the nonstop stream of customers. The morning rush is always tough, but Taehyung handled the flow perfectly every time. His demeanor calms even the most irate caffeine addicted customers.

“I’m starving,” Taehyung announced as he clocked out. 

“What kind of food does the restaurant serve?” you asked as your stomach rumbled.

“Hamburgers!” Taehyung beamed. 

“Cool. Text me the address and I’ll meet you there,” you say as you head towards your car.

“Wait! It’s actually not too far from here. There’s no need to take two vehicles,” Taehyung rubbed the back of his neck.

“Do you wanna ride in my car?” you asked quizzically. 

“Actually I wanted to take you for a ride. On my bike,” he quickly added.

“Sure I guess. You got a little basket for me to ride in or something?” you attempted to be friendly. 

“Not quite. I don’t have a spare helmet, but I can assure you that I’m a safe driver,” he says as he leads you to his parking spot.

“You have a moped?” you asked in shock. You couldn’t help but smile at the cute little lavender moped that Taehyung probably zips around on every day.

“Yeah, I love this little sucker. It used to be my sister’s, that’s why it’s purple. But it’s badass on the streets,” Taehyung patted the seat.

“So where am I sitting?” you asked even though you already knew the answer. 

“You’d be safest sitting behind me. You can hold onto me if you’d like. For safety reasons, of course,” he smiled. 

You climbed onto the moped after him. You didn’t want to hold onto him, but you whimpered and quickly wrapped your arms around him as soon as he took off. The tiny moped was surprisingly fast, and since it was so small, you could practically feel every bump on the road. 

Taehyung smirked as you hung onto him tightly. “Cute,” he thought. 

Taehyung’s scent enveloped you as you leaned into his back. You’ve grown accustomed to his smell since you were always together at work, but being up close and personal with him was a different story. He had a comforting smell that made you want to snuggle up to him even more. You wondered which cologne he was wearing, just in case you wanted to pick it up for yourself. 

You felt how solid his torso was as you clung to him. Your thoughts lingered to his earlier question yet again. Why did you hate him so much? He really didn’t seem like a bad guy. In fact, the opposite is true. Sure he could be a bit flirty, but he was also always kind and gentle. You realized that he never flirted with the customers first, he simply returned their energy. 

“We’re here!” Taehyung happily announced.

He led you into a small restaurant that appeared to be family owned. The owners greeted Taehyung by his first name, indicating that he’s probably a regular customer. 

“Welcome in! And who’s this lovely lady you brought with you?” the man greeted. 

“Taehyung! Is this this coffee shop girl? She’s just as gorgeous as you said she wa--” his wife began to ramble until Taehyung cut her off.

“I’ll have two of the usuals please. Oh, and two sodas. Thanks guys,” Taehyung ordered quickly before bringing you over to a small table in the corner. 

“How much do I owe you?” you inquired as you took out your wallet.

“Nothing. This is my treat. I’m surprised you finally agreed to hangout with me,” Taehyung smiled as he shifted his weight in his chair.

“What was that lady saying before you ordered?” you tilted your head.

“She uh, was telling me about the daily special,” Taehyung lied.

“No she wasn’t. I was right next to you, Taehyung. Am I the coffee shop girl?” you teased, delighted that the tables have turned. 

“I mean you are a girl and you do work in a coffee shop. But that doesn’t necessarily mean that you’re THE coffee shop girl…” Taehyung was flustered. 

“Is this a date or are we just hanging out?” you pressed further. 

“Which would you like it to be?” Taehyung retorted.

“I asked first,” you countered.

“I guess I can’t argue with that. I would prefer this to be a date. But since you hate me I’d happily settle for us just hanging out,” he admitted. 

“I wouldn’t say that I hate you…” you trailed off.

“Oh really? Then why do you always ignore me and only talk to me to boss me around. I find that hot by the way, but we don’t have to get into that right now,” he smirked. 

“I...I don’t know. Your face always bothered me I suppose,” you answered thoughtfully. 

“My face?” Taehyung burst out into a fit of laughter, “___, am I so ugly that you just can’t stand being around me?”

“The opposite actually. Oh what the hell, we’re here anyway. You’re so goddamn handsome it’s aggravating. You’re so nice it’s unnerving. And when you talk to me it’s like you’ve known me forever. If I didn’t act so cold towards you I would’ve fallen for you so easily,” you finally got everything off of your chest.  

An awkward silence filled the room and you began to regret coming clean. The owner came by with the burgers and you noticed the ketchup was done in the shape of a heart.

“Damn,” was all that Taehyung replied after a while.

You silently nodded as you bit into your burger. 

“I’m glad I kept bugging you then. I thought you were a cutie during orientation. I knew you weren’t actually a bitch because I’ve seen the way you interact with people who aren’t me. You’re such a sweetheart. Also please don’t think I’m a creep for watching you at work sometimes,” he chuckled. 

“I’m sorry for being so cold towards you. I’m not really good with processing emotions and all that,” you blushed, “But now that everything's out in the open, I’d be willing to let my walls down I guess.” 

“Sure. We can take it one date at a time. And maybe you could actually talk to me at work?” Taehyung gave you big puppy eyes.

“Maybe. I’ll see what I can do,” you failed to suppress a smile.

Kim Taehyung might not be too shabby after all.

Published August 9th, 2020. No editing, copying, translating, or reposting allowed. All Rights Reserved © 2020 Baepsaesbae.

[cordonian-literature]

The Aftermath - Ch. 13

Interrogations

SUMMARY: Olivia finds more information about Regina’s scheme

Word Count: ~2.5k

Warning: Mention of character death

*All characters belong to Pixelberry, except those that are unique to my story (I’ve also used some characters and fictional instances from Donna Tartt’s “The Goldfinch”)*

Catch up here!

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✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧✦✧

- Olivia - 

Since Hana was staying at Lythikos keep, the Duchess made sure that every room would be warm for her guest. Usually she wouldn’t care, but Olivia felt a certain pity for Hana. She wasn’t able to avoid marriage like Olivia was able to, and so she found herself in a loveless, miserable relationship. Olivia could tell that Hana was desperate to get rid of the misery: she had insisted Olivia stay with her during meals, and she even volunteered to help look up travel records for Riley and her family. Hana had also not yet told her husband that she had extended her stay, and he hadn’t returned to their home either. Olivia had wanted to question Hana about it, but she decided it would be better for both of them if she were to focus on more positive topics.

The warmth in Lythikos keep was not welcoming to Olivia, but when she followed Jacob down the stone stairs into the dungeon, the freezing air embraced her, preparing Olivia for whatever Jacob was about to show her. She mentally noted all the places where she had weapons hidden, both in her outfit and around the room. 

She heard muffling when they reached the bottom of the stairs, and then when she turned out of the doorway, saw a man tied to a chair. 

“This,” Jacob begins, “is one of the Queen Mother’s personal guards. I checked his records, and it shows that he had been on her right hand ever since Constantine abdicated, up until a few months ago.”

“So that means he was at the Beaumont wedding when Regina saw Riley,” Olivia concludes, leaning closer to her prisoner. The fear in his eyes multiplied as the distance between them decreased. 

She had the upper hand. 

“Exactly,” Jacob answers her. “He told me that there was another guard with him as well. I looked up the name, and found that he actually died a few years ago.” 

“Oh, a pity,” Olivia exclaims, not taking her eyes off of the man in front of her. “It would have been fun to have two prisoners. Don’t you think, Jacob?” She turns to face him. “If we had two of them, then we could have spared the one who gave the most information.”

Jacob gives her a knowing smile. 

“Now.” She turns back to the man tied in the chair. “You’re going to tell me everything you know about Lady Riley after her disappearance, or I’m going to cut off your—.”

The sound of his muffled screams increases. Taking that as a signal that he would tell her whatever she wanted to hear, Olivia motions for Jacob to remove the cloth over the prisoner’s mouth. 

He takes a breath when the fabric falls from his lips. “I’ll tell you everything! Just please don’t hurt me! I don’t work for the Queen Mother anymore, and I won’t tell anyone about this!”

“Alright then. Speak. Tell us what you know about the Queen Mother stopping Lady Riley from attending the wedding,” Olivia commands. 

He takes a few moments to gasp for air. Quite unnecessary, Olivia thinks. 

“She... the Queen Mother had been telling her security team for a while after the Homecoming Ball that we should keep an eye around Europe for Lady Riley. She said something about... something about knowing that Lady Riley would dare to come back to Europe after everything. And she... she knew that Lady Riley had come back. Before the wedding, that is.” 

“So...,” Jacob frowns. “She was in Europe for a while before the wedding?” 

“N-no. That’s not what I meant I’m sorry I’m flustered I’m just really nervous—.”

“Oh, shut it and get on with what you were saying!” Olivia interrupts. 

“Right, right. Um... uh... sh-she meant that... like... in between the Homecoming Ball and Duke Bertrand’s wedding, Lady Riley was in Europe momentarily. She said it was a little after the Homecoming Ball and the attacks on the palace.” 

“Where in Europe?” Olivia interrogates. 

“I... I don’t know I swear! That’s all she told us. We never asked her how she knew.” 

“Alright, alright,” Jacob speaks. “Fast forward to the Beaumont wedding.”

“Right... uh... s-so because of what the Queen Mother had told us about... like, keeping tags on flights in and out of Europe, we couldn’t really find anything under the name of ‘Riley Brooks,’ so someone from my team suggested keeping tags on people traveling who had the first name of Riley, whether they were traveling to Cordonia or not, and where they were going in Cordonia.” 

“Damn,” Jacob comments. “That must’ve been a lot.”

“Huh, no kidding,” the prisoner replies. “Shockingly there were a number of people named Riley who wanted to visit—.”

“Focus!” Olivia screams again.

“Sorry, sorry! Right, so a few hours before the wedding, we saw that there was a Riley who had landed at an airport near Ramsford. We sent a team to keep tabs on her and whatnot, and then when it was clear that she was coming to the wedding, we told the Queen Mother. She directed us to stop her from coming in through the main entrance, and told us to bring her in from a servants entrance where she could talk to Lady Riley.”

“And...?” Olivia prods him to continue. 

“And... sh-she made us lock them both in a room where they could talk. I didn’t hear what they were saying, I swear. S-so when she was done, she directed us to take her back to the airport and force her back on a plane to wherever she had come from.”

“Riley didn’t resist or anything?” Jacob asks. 

“Oh, she resisted. We had to cover her mouth because she was screaming so loud. She was kicking and punching. We tied her up and had the rest of our team bring an unmarked vehicle near the servant’s entrance. We threw her in the back and brought her to the airport. Eventually she stopped and started crying. She even threw up. We made her clean herself at a gas station while the rest of the team managed to get one of the royal family’s private jets to take her. We couldn’t put her on a regular flight. Too many risks and whatnot.” 

Olivia’s face twisted in anger. ��Wonderful,” she commented. “You did all that to a pregnant woman, did you know that?” 

The prisoner’s eyes go wide, and he violently shakes his head from side to side, his eyes still locked on Olivia. 

“How’d you know she was pregnant?” Jacob asks. 

“It was a guess,” Olivia explains. “Hana and I discussed the timeline on our way over. Eight years ago when Bertrand and Savannah were having their wedding, Riley would have been pregnant with her second child. But since you—” she turns to look at the prisoner “—said that she vomited while you were trying to remove her, that works towards confirming she was expecting.” 

“I... I didn’t know that I swear!” the prisoner claims. “I’m not a violent person I wouldn’t have done that had I known!”

“I’ve heard enough.” Olivia turns to leave the dungeon with Jacob following close behind. 

“Should I let him go?” Jacob asks. 

“Let him rot in there for a few more hours. Release him around sunset,” she commands. Olivia reaches into the pocket of her suit to take out her cellphone. 

She knew she had to call Liam and tell him everything that she just learned, but a part of her wanted to keep him in ignorance. Even though they hadn’t spoken much since he had left for New York, she knew he must have been doing better having Riley back. She knew that this news would break him... but Olivia had been one of Liam’s most trusted allies. She wasn’t going to break his confidence in her now, but Olivia shuddered to think what he would do with this information. 

- Madeleine - 

After the tea ceremony, the Queen Mother had insisted that Madeleine stay in the capital with her for a little longer. Madeleine had requested Regina to allow Countess Hana to stay as well, but she was unfortunately leaving with Duchess Olivia. Madeleine felt a sense of pity vibrate her bones. She may have slightly tortured Hana during the Engagement Tour, but Madeleine did not believe that Hana deserved that much misery; first she had to live depressingly with Neville for the past five years, and now she had to spend time with an ill-tempered Nevrakis. Madeleine wished she could save Hana from the pain, but she was rather powerless to do so. 

For the past few days, she had been spending a lot of time with Regina. The Queen Mother had invited her niece to eat every meal with her and to spend time with her during the rest of the day as well. Madeleine took that as an opportunity: she discussed many propositions with the Queen Mother, hoping that she would tell Madeleine to discuss it with King Liam once he returned. 

One afternoon, a few days after the ceremony, Madeleine was enjoying cucumber sandwiches with the Queen Mother, when one of Regina’s servants comes in. 

“Your Highness?” he asks in a low voice. When Regina nods at him, he continues, “there’s a phone call for you.” 

“From who?” Regina questions, taking a small bite of her sandwich. 

“It’s from His Majesty, King Liam.”

Regina sits up straight. “Oh, Heavens I’ve been trying to reach him for days!”

“Oh,” Madeleine exclaims. “I can excuse myself if you wish to speak to him in private?”

Regina waves away Madeleine’s words. “No, no, bring me the phone. Yes, put it on the table right there and put it on speaker. Countess, you’ve nothing to worry about, I’m sure Liam wouldn’t mind.” She thinks for a moment. “But if he does not mention you, do not speak.” 

“Of course, Your Highness,” Madeleine obeys.

Regina leans forward to answer the call as the servant walks out. 

“Regina?” Liam’s voice resonates out of the phone.

“Yes, Liam, what is it?” the Queen Mother answers. “What has possessed you to finally call me?” 

“I’ve just received an interesting phone call from Duchess Olivia.” 

“Oh?” she exclaims, going for a sip of her tea. “Liam, dear, if it has nothing to do about marriage, understand that I do not wish to hear it.” 

“Regina I think it would be in your best interest to listen closely to what I am going to tell you.” 

Madeleine freezes, worried about the agitation in her king’s voice. Even the Queen Mother stops moving, her teacup inches away from her lips. 

Liam’s voice comes out in a rough growl when he says, “I know everything about you having kept Lady Riley away.” He pauses, waiting for her to comment. 

Regina slowly puts her cup onto the table. “Liam, stop this nonsense, I do not know—.”

“No, YOU are the one who is going to stop.” His words are sharp. 

Regina stiffens and does not speak. 

“Do you understand what you did, when you forced her out of Cordonia during Duke Bertrand’s wedding? Do you understand what you did to me? You took away the only thing I ever wanted.” He scoffs. “All this time you’ve been telling me to marry, to produce an heir, to secure my throne.... How dare you?”

Madeleine stares at the Queen Mother’s face, waiting for a reaction. She wondered if the Queen Mother knew what Liam was talking about. 

“How dare you tell me to produce an heir.... Did you know?” He waits for her to answer. When Regina says nothing, he continues, “I said did. You. Know?”

“For goodness sake, Liam!” Regina exclaims. “I don’t know what you are talking about! Enlighten me, if you please, and stop—.”

“Enough!” he screams. “I don’t want anymore of your snarky comments. You knew how desperate I was to get Lady Riley back. I had told you. I trusted you with my confidence and you betrayed it. When I was panicking in front of you, not knowing where she was, worried I would never see her again, were you pleased with yourself that you knew her whereabouts all along and kept quiet?”

“Liam, listen to me,” the Queen mother rushes her words. “I wasn’t the one who knew of her whereabouts, it was—.” 

“ENOUGH!” he screams again. “I am tired of your lies. You have no idea of the damage you have caused me.” He takes a few deep breaths. When he speaks again, his tone is calm: “I will be returning to Cordonia within a few days. With Lady Riley and our son.” 

Madeleine slaps a hand over her mouth. Regina starts shaking. 

“As your monarch, I command you to stay away. If, by God, I have heard or seen you do anything that even momentarily undermines their physical or emotional well-being, you will no longer call Cordonia your home. I have pitied you and your declining health ever since my father’s death, but know that there is no drop of compassion left for you. Good bye, Regina.” He ends the call. 

Regina sits there, still shaking. Madeleine looks over with worry, wondering if she should say something. She sees the Queen Mother swallow a breath. 

“M-Madeleine, if you would... please excuse yourself?” Regina chokes.

“Of course.” Madeleine stands and begins to walk towards her room, Liam’s words repeating in her head. 

After Liam had ended their engagement and had not married another woman, Madeleine was infuriated with him. Now, she didn’t know what to feel. She had worked alongside him all those years, trying to help him with his work, trying to get him to notice her again. But he had a son. With Riley. He had an heir. Now there was no more hope of Madeleine becoming queen. Liam would never marry her, that was certain. 

Even though she had done quite a lot for the people of her country, she knew that if she was queen, she could do more for them.

Everytime Madeleine had failed in getting the crown... it had always been Riley who ruined it for her. Riley, and now her son, had swiped away Madeleine’s chances indefinitely. Anger pooled in her chest, and she promised herself that she wasn’t going to let Riley get away with it this time. 

And Liam... what a fool. He was going to bring back a son, an heir, just like that? Without warning the people or without training the boy to be a proper royal? 

I am not going to let them make my country look foolish. 

[concealeddarkness13]

WHG Post Games Nesri Part 5

Tagging: @ratracechronicler (also thanks for Elvira and Rebecca!), @maple-writes (also thanks for Asher and Cirrus!), @nightskywriter, @rhikasa, @pen-of-roses (also thanks for Rowan!), @aeslin-writes, @the-moving-finger-writes, @knmartinshouldbewriting, @makeitmonstrous, and @timefirewrites!

Zenith glanced at the overturned furniture and crossed his arms. “Now, we’ve got to get this furniture back to where it was before.”

I shook my head. “Nah. It’s more comfortable this way.”

No one objected. Rowan asked if anyone wanted food, and they went into the kitchen to make the food. I followed to make some more popcorn for the extra special announcement. When I came back into the living room, Asher and Cirrus were sitting beside each other. I grinned at them and sat on the other side of Cirrus, and I offered him some popcorn as I turned on the TV. Rebecca had moved to the chair she had sat in previously, and Elvira was sitting on the floor in front of her.

The stupid Capitol fanfare started up, and I sighed and leaned against Cirrus, glancing over at him to make sure it was okay. He didn’t seem to mind. Caesar was standing up, energizing the crowd as Evie and Lynn were seated behind him. They looked profoundly uncomfortable as another “wonderful” guest sat beside them. President Snow, the smug bastard, was smiling vaguely at the crowd.

Caesar laughed. “Welcome to another special interview! This time, our esteemed President Snow has decided to join us! So, let’s get going!” I frowned as he looked over at Snow, across Evie and Lynn. Were they just props? Why were they even here? “So, I heard that you are planning something special for the tributes who survived the arena!”

President Snow laughed. “I want to celebrate the ones who survived the arena: the Victor: Poli, Lynn, and Evelynne by hosting a party with them as special guests.” The crowd roared.

“How generous, putting them on display like prizes or cattle for the Capitol to fawn over even more, and here I had somehow believed they couldn’t sink any lower,” Rowan muttered. Asher nodded.

Caesar waited for the crowd to quiet down before continuing. “But it’s not going to be just any party, is it? Could you give us all the juicy details?”

“This party will actually be a cruise on my personal yachts, and the party will last two nights, with special guests being able to stay overnight near the tributes who survived the arena. And this was suggested by Alastair, who will also be a special guest at the party. It will be a themed party. Everyone is encouraged to dress as a pirate to fit the theme.” Evie hid a smile behind her hand at the announcement, and I grinned as the crowd roared again.

Rebecca sat up straighter. “I bet my stylist influenced that choice cuz of me.”

I laughed as Cirrus looked excited. “This is brilliant! Triel won’t believe it!” I grabbed out my phone and texted her about the cruise and the costumes.

Rowan looked thoughtful. “That’s good, Lynn can swim, he’s a very strong swimmer, that’s very good.”

“Captain Skeates will likely turn up uninvited,” Elvira muttered, rubbing one of her temples. I felt a thrill at that. Triel had mentioned Captain Skeates in the past.

Asher looked thoughtful. “Does he mean, on the ocean?”

I shrugged, trying to remember what Triel said about the geography of the Capitol. “Probably at the lake neighboring the Capitol. I hope they wouldn’t go to such extremes to go on the ocean. But, this is the Capitol, so I could be wrong.”

Zenith nodded. “The president’s yachts are outfitted to go on the lake.” He looked embarrassed and added quickly, mumbling, “I was invited there when I was working for the Capitol before.”

“They won’t recognize you and give us away, will they?” Elvira asked carefully.

He paused. “”The only people I really interacted with before I left was my team and some high ups in the Capitol. If I avoid them, I should be safe. Well, as safe as a former tribute could be. Any other person would recognize me as a former tribute instead.” Rebecca winced and nodded at that.

“Yeah, but that’s also a problem, isn’t it?” Cirrus added. “If they know we’re all tributes?”

I waved it off. “Triel has the best disguises.” Then added in a mumble. “But she’ll probably make us all wear wide brimmed hats and long coats.”

“For your entire faces?” Elvira asked.

I nodded. “She knows how to hide in plain sight. The hats will help too.”

Cirrus sighed. “We’re all going to look like umbrellas with those hats.”

I laughed. “Nah. The hats always flatter the person wearing them. I think you, especially, will look good dressed as a pirate.”

“It’s umbrellas or being spotted and as someone who’s done my best to avoid being noticed, I’d rather be an umbrella.” Rowan winced. “Though I’ve never actually stayed hidden for long.”

“Fine.” Cirrus leaned back into the couch. “If I have to.”

Caesar, luckily, had to wait longer for the crowd to quiet down. “So, how does one get these special tickets? And regular tickets, for that matter!”

Snow clasped his hands and smirked at the camera. “You will sign up for a drawing, and you will be pulled from the pool at a later date. Think of it as our own Hunger Games.” He chuckled at that. “Only fifty lucky guests will be able to stay overnight.”

My phone buzzed. It was a message from Triel. I relayed it to the rest of them. “Triel says this is fortunate for us. She’ll be able to get costumes for all of us. And she says that Alastair already contacted her, saying that he pulled some strings and secured the special guest tickets for us.”

“And we’ll be overstaying our welcome.” Rebecca chuckled darkly.

“Well, that’s part of the plan taken care of. ‘Our own Hunger Games.’ I’ve known animals with more humanity,” Rowan said.

I grinned. “And we get to screw with them and show them how stupid and not in control the are! Excellent!”

“That’s a lot of days undercover.” Asher was looking nervous. “There’s a lot that can happen.”

Zenith was frowning. “So, we go in our disguises, stay overnight, and what? How are we going to get them out from under the Capitol’s nose? And how many people are we going to get? I would assume the other person they showed off, Laurel I think, will be there too. Who knows who else will be there?” His eyes flickered over to me. “What if Churi is there?”

I kept my face neutral, even as I tensed against Cirrus. “Then I’ll avoid him.”

He shook his head. “What if you can’t?”

Cirrus shrugged. “Beat the shit out of him if he gets close?”

While I appreciated the sentiment, that wouldn’t work. I swallowed hard. “He’s not exactly a…physical being. It won’t work as well as you’d like. He can recover from any injury to his physical body in a second.” I looked over at Zenith. “I could ask you the same question with avoiding your team. But…I’ll try to figure it out.”

Elvira cut in. “We can spend the first day doing recon on our targets, then split ourselves between them to spring them simultaneously, hopefully with guards of our own to spare for whatever goes wrong.”

Zenith nodded, tearing his scrutinizing eyes away from me. “That is a good plan.”

I took a deep breath, composing myself. I forced a smile. “We’ll have to blend in. And that means dance lessons! Who’s already learned?” In the background, Caesar was asking Evie and Lynn what they thought about the party, and they were giving the expected, fake excited responses.

Zenith raised his hand. “Arque thought it was good training.”

Rowan raised their hand. “From my mother.”

Rebecca’s mouth dropped open. “That means dance lessons, why?”

I laughed. “Because we have to pretend we’re fancy Capitol idiots. We have to act the part. They depend on dancing for their daily exercise.”

Rebecca thought about it, grabbed her sword, swung out her leg, and made a motion as if to chop off her own leg. She already had the dramatic part down for pretending to be a Capitol idiot. Elvira sighed and pulled the sword away. “I’ll teach you. Behave and I’ll even let you lead.” Rebecca scowled but lowered both the sword and her leg.

Cirrus smiled at Rebecca. “I’ve never danced like this before but it can’t be that hard.”

“Speak for yourself,” Asher added. “I had to do it once way back in school and it didn’t go well.”

I leaned forward and grinned at both of them. “I can be your lead while Triel teaches!”

Zenith frowned. “So, we have the costumes, the dance lessons, and the tickets. Is there anything that we’re missing?”

“Snorkels?” Rebecca suggested. “How’re we gonna bail once we got the bounty? Is it a hit-and-run-and-hope-we-can-outrun-them thing, or do we try and keep it quiet and let them figure it out in the morning?”

Shine texted my phone, and I relayed their message. (Yeah, the author did not know that Shine was nonbinary, preferring he/him and they/them pronouns until last week, and Shine had indicated that they preferred they/them currently over he/him today). I relayed the message. “I have a machine that can keep our airship invisible, so we can get away without the Capitol noticing if you can figure out how to sneak them onto the airship.”

“If it’s a fancy yacht it should have an open air deck or something, right?” Asher leaned forward to look at me. “Could we pull them up from there?”

I nodded. “That would work, if the deck is crowded. If we want to be sneaky about it.”

“Definitely a lido deck at least, and they should cover the pool overnight to prevent drunken passengers from falling in. Whether they actually will remains to be seen,” Elvira pointed it out.

“Right, it’ll be a possibly crowded ship.” Rowan ran a hand through their hair.

“Maybe we can push some of them in before we leave,” I mumbled before I spoke louder. “That would work too! Shine will be piloting the airship, and he can bring it anywhere we need it.” I looked over at Rowan. “Then we’ll just have to make sure that they’re all drunk before we head out!” I gave him a thumbs up while I grinned.

They laughed a little uneasily. “If anything, having them drunk might make it worse and they’ll accidentally stumble in on us.”

“They won’t understand what they’re seeing, and then they’ll forget it all by morning!” I said.

“We can lure them away by smuggling some moonshine aboard and whispering that to a few people and make sure the word gets around by telling people not to tell anyone,” Rebecca offered. “Stash it or distribute it far off from the pickup point or the targets or whatever, huh?”

Zenith nodded. No hint of a smile or levity. Wow. “That would work. The Capitol citizens are suckers for alcohol. But I’m worried that the captured tributes might have too many visitors overnight.”

“Why shouldn’t such visitors include ourselves if we are, after all, esteemed guests from the Capitol?” Elvira asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It could lead to the Capitol learning they’re gone sooner than we’d like,” Zenith said.

“If they’re something more entertaining they’ll probably flock towards it.” Cirrus shrugged. “Might give us an opening.”

“That’s a good point, we need to make sure there is enough time to actually get everyone, somehow get everyone to the same spot, get rid of the shockers, and get away,” Rowan said. Rebecca winced at the mention of the shockers.

Zenith cocked an eyebrow. “What could we do that would be more interesting than the stars of the party?”

“Man overboard?” Cirrus suggested.

Brilliant! And at the same time Rebecca, me, and Asher spoke.

“Caesar overboard,” Rebecca breathed, with stars in her eyes.

I grinned. “President Snow overboard!”

Asher grinned. “President overboard?”

Rowan considered the suggestions. “Alright, how do we get  to the most important person on the ship to push him over?”

Rebecca rubbed her chin, thinking, but I spoke up first. I eyed Elvira. “The non-tributes. Triel and Elvira won’t be as easily recognized, so they should be able to get closer. How about that?”

A faint smile played on Elvira’s lips. “I accept.”

Perfect! Everything was getting figured out well! Just as I thought that, Rowan paled. “I just had a truly terrible thought that I hope is years of paranoia speaking and has no actual basis in reality because how could it right?”

Zenith tensed. “What was it?”

“What do they know about us escaping?”

“The Capitol probably didn’t tell them the truth about what happened to us. They could actually be using us against them.”

“Like, our friends think we got captured too, maybe, and the Cap’s threatening us, so that’ll keep them obedient? Or something like that?” Rebecca asked, sounding confused.

Zenith nodded. “Possibly. I’ve heard of the Capitol doing it before.”

“Would they believe us if we told them we aren’t captured?” Asher asked. “Or would they be suspicious?”

“Would the Capitol at all expect us to be looking to help them?” Rowan asked.

All this guesswork went way over what I wanted to think about. So, I just stayed quiet. Zenith nodded, looking thoughtful. “I think we could prove to them that we weren’t captured. We don’t have shockers like they do, for example. But Rowan brings up a good point. The Capitol will be expecting us to do something. Alastair getting extra tickets for special guests could already look suspicious to them.”

“Or I could be wrong really, that’s still a possibility, after all they’re the Capitol maybe they think they’re invincible and, Goddess, please let me be wrong.” Rowan runs a hand through their hair.

“If they’re expecting us to be active in undermining them, I feel they would’ve found us by now—or at least we’d know they were looking,” Elvira pointed out calmly. “The fact that we haven’t been approached means we aren’t seen as a threat.”

I sat up and nodded, actually trying to look serious. “That’s a good point, and also, we’ve already defied the Capitol once, when they were watching. We can do it again!” I smiled now. “Zenith knows all these people, so he can just scowl at them, and they’d be intimidated!”

He scowled at me, and I was super intimidated. “That wouldn’t work. Most of them don’t know me.”

“You don’t need to recognize the caliber of the bullet in your skull before it can kill you,” Rebecca snorted.

Cirrus shrugged. “If we don’t get recognized we don’t have to worry about suspicious anyway, right?” He glanced at me. “If Triel can disguise us all we have to do is act the part.” He paused. “How many of you have been to anything like this? Any of you know how to order a servant to do something for you without sticking out?”

“Usually the one being ordered,” Rowan muttered.

Zenith frowned. “Kind of. But I wouldn’t be too proficient at sounding rich. I was there as a soldier.”

I laughed. “I have no idea. Triel knows from pretending to be rich to get information, though.”

Rebecca cringed, chewing on knuckle. “I’ve…seen it happen. If that counts. I stalked an upper-class guy for two years cuz I thought we were in love. It’s morbidly fascinating. They just play gods twenty-four-seven.”

Cirrus nodded. “We’ll work on it then.” He smirked. “I was a prince once, you know.”

Asher laughed. “And an entitled ass.”

Rowan frowned. “You were? Wait, right, not important right now.”

“Technically still am, but it’s a long story.”Cirrus sighed.

Wow. Made more sense why he lost his cool so easily when I teased him during the fight. I grinned. “Thankfully, you’re not one of the annoying ones. At least not too annoying.”

“Do you play harpsichord?” Rebecca whispered suspiciously.

Cirrus twisted to face her. “The what?”

She relaxed. “You’re fine.”

Cirrus looked confused, but shook it off. “Anyway, I can help you out with that.” He pointed at Rowan. “You and Asher especially.”

Aw. I wasn’t part of the list. He believed in me. I grinned. “I’ll throw popcorn at you during your training, and you’ll have to ignore it!”

“Me?” Rowan asked.

Cirrus nodded. “You’re…” He thought for a little bit. “You seem like a considerate person and all but you don’t want to come off as too nice, not in front of the other guests.”

“Of course that’s the reason.” Rowan sighed but nodded.

I nodded, but my eyes were starting to feel heavy, and my brain was moving slower. “So, that’s all figured out! We can get started tomorrow. I’ll have to make sure to make a lot of popcorn!”

Cirrus mumbled something about me eating too much popcorn, but he agreed. I just made sure to make a face at him before we left to go to our own rooms.

[nikkyshows]

Firetruck Linen

DISCLAIMER: reposted here to the new blog

For @violetvineyardnetwork 's pride color week thing. I don’t know if I’ll do every day, but we’ll see. This is day one. The color is red which means life.

Pardon me if there are any errors — not thoroughly proofread because I lost track of dates and thought this was happening later than it was so I panic wrote this real fast. I am a professional, obviously. Anyways, enjoy this first look at Jackson! (I swear all my characters in this world aren’t dumb teens, just wait, I swear we’ll see an adult someday.)

1122 words and no warnings. An anxious boy just buys some linen at a craft store, totally not being awkward while doing so.

*****

Jackson hates the color red.

Which is kind of idiotic (and ironic) considering he wears it on a regular basis. Considering it’s part of him as much as his blood is, something he willingly dons because of what he’s allowed to do when he’s wearing it, the freedom it grants him. 

Red is a color he dislikes because it’s his freedom and his prison. Jail bars he can only ever peer out of to see the outside world. Something so simple that determines so much of him.

He figured out he had a power when he was eight. He’s spent every year since, minus that first one, hating it and most of it he also spent trying to repress it, smothering it in his chest like it’ll sputter out in the confines of his ribs to dissipate like ash in the wind.

All it does, however, is gnaw at his intestines like a parasite, burning away the lining to send smoke up his throat.

Heroing isn’t something he really has a choice in. He has to, if he doesn’t want to get hyperthermia or heat stroke or both. (He did, once, when he was nine in was the middle of winter when it made no sense. He was nine when his choice of his future was taken from him). He hates it, but at least he knows what he’s going to do when he graduates, so there’s that.

That doesn’t make buying fabric in front of the eighty-year-old grandmother manning the register any easier, though. Especially since he’s, you know, a teenage boy in a craft store trying to buy half a yard of linen. But hey, sometimes you have to do hard things. Or awkward things. This was definitely the latter.

Sometimes he thinks he’d almost prefer the hyperthermia.

“This is crafting fabric,” she tells him, voice croaked and thin with age.

“I know,” he sighs, fists his hands behind the counter where she can’t see. “My, um, mom asked me to pick some up for her.”

Lie.

His mother was too busy for a time-consuming hobby and was absolutely horrible at crafts and sewing. But it doesn’t hurt anyone to fib about it. It’s just a little lie, not a crime (like vigilanteing). It was fine. Normal, even. Moms sent their sons on shopping errands all the time.

She picks up the strip of firetruck red fabric with her nails. “So she sends you to grab half a yard of red linen? That’s all she needs?”

“That’s... what she told me to grab, yeah. I think she was running low?”

“Are you asking me?”

“No? No. That’s... that’s all. Please.”

“Alright.” She presses a few keys, pulling the fabric closer to peer at the tag. “Half a yard of red linen.”

He nods, feeling like a bobble head. “Yep.” He pops the ‘p’ and winces. “Half a yard of bright red linen for, uh,” his mind blanks on anything that can be made with linen, “...something. She didn’t say what.”

...and he wasn’t asked a question. Cool. Yeah. He was totally acting normal, just running an errand for his mother. Buying fabric for a perfectly normal home project and not to use as a half-baked mask that was going to be ruined in about a month, if he was lucky.

He knew he was somehow making this much worse than it needed to be, but he doesn’t know how.

He does know, however, that if he acts too off she might know what he’s really doing. Buying fabric to DIY a superhero costume. For vigilanteism. A punishable offense on two parts — unsanctioned Supers weren’t allowed to roam the streets and he was a minor.

Minors aren’t allowed. Period. It was too risky, too stressful, too much for any child to bear. He really wishes he had the option to wait until he was eighteen.

“Are you alright, dear?”

“Yes.” He responds too quickly, a little loud for the quiet bumble of the shop, snapping back into the situation at hand and not his runaway train of thought. “I’m fine. Why— why would you ask?” He narrows in on her eyes, wondering how people can see a soul past them. He just sees brown.

“You seem a little jumpy.”

He shakes his head. “No— I’m not... jumpy.” He laughs and it’s forced so he stops. Did that sound suspicious? It probably did.

She hums unconnectedly. “Alright. This’ll be $8.49.”

He grabs at his back pocket and hands her a ten. “Keep the change,” he says, pretending his anxiety is the only thing making him think she knows. He smiles and it feels like the exact wrong move.

This would’ve been so much easier if he was a girl. He wouldn’t be questioned so much than and this could be a smooth experience.

“Here you go,” she says, holding out his now-bagged purchase, the curl of her lips smug.

He grabs it and ignores how his fingers fumble for the handle. “Thank you.” His heart pounds a rhythm in his chest, stirring up an urge to puke. He feels sick — does she know? Is she going to call this in? Is he done for? Has he finally been caught because he thought he had one more spare mask when he hadn’t?

That’s why he was here, though, because linen was supposed to be harder to burn than cotton. He needed something less flammable.

“Have a good day, hun. Be safe.”

His breath stills and he idly wonders where all the air went. “Yeah.”

Definitely. He was totally... going to do that.

Not.

Dang it, she really knew what he was actually doing, didn’t she?

He walks out the door and slaps his palm against his forehead as hard as he can. “Dang,” he whispers. “Should’ve just ordered it online and waited. Stupid. I was a wreck. That was horrible” The heels of his hands press against his browbone, the plastic bag crinkling against his skin.

He sighs, feeling like the water running down the street and into the drain. He shoulda just — not done that. That was bad. That was really bad.

God, how was he so awkward? How did people hold normal conversations? He feels like his chest is about to implode.

He jimmies his phone from his pocket and types a note one-handed to his list of things to remember. He writes the name of the shop and in caps (for emphasis so later him will remember) writes not to ever go there again. Ever.

The little old lady behind the counter knew who he was. Maybe.

That, or he was just really paranoid. Or bad at reading social situations.

Something along one of those lines, probably.

*****

Tags: @citrusysumo (ask to be added!)

I hoped you enjoyed this! We’ll see Jackson again so I hoped you liked meeting him^^

I’ve been thinking of making a WIP intro for my two worlds (which really need more solid names — lmk if you have suggestions), but I have no idea how to do that. More experienced writeblrs, please tell me your secrets.

[aelaer]

So I have a request: A Stephen who, in the Canon compliant universe, returns to the Sanctum for the first time in 5 years, breaks down and is completely devastated and exhausted from everything that happened. And then a time skip, to Stephen now having moved on, in acceptance. He may still feel a little guilty, but is immensly thankful for intimately knowing the beautiful souls who sacrificed themselves and resolved to cherish and celebrate their lives with their friends and family.

So my goal for this was to keep it under 1500 words. I completely failed that goal.

But that is what I am going to attempt to do with my ask prompts (should I get any more in the future), mostly because I have three multi-chapter stories completely spiraling out of control (and a fourth that needs its last chapter completed) and I will never get my Stephen Strange bingo card done by November if I keep on writing these super long things for every square XD

I’m not terribly pleased with the ending but oh well. Nothing was coming for days and I figured I sat on this for long enough.

Fill for @stephenstrangebingo​ square ‘It’s not your fault’. Warning for canon compliance and my obsessive need to explain away plot-holes with magic-science for a few paragraphs before actually addressing the prompt :P

Title: Black TagRating: GenPairings: NoneWord count: About 3k

The sun was setting over a celebratory New York City when Stephen came again to the New York Sanctum after five years gone. The powers that surrounded the building muffled the cheers and shouts and crying out on Bleecker Street from all the locals, unaware that the man who had helped instigate all their suffering was within the neighborhood.

It had been well over thirty hours since he had come back with the rest of the Disappeared. He was done with giving his report to the other Masters of Kamar-Taj and done with his part in what immediate reorganization was needed for their order. They had finally let him go to rest; he was alone. Wong, for instance, was still settling things as one of those who had survived the Decimation, and still helping others come to terms with what had passed.

And now, now all Stephen could think of was bed. He had washed up a bit in Kamar-Taj, thankfully, for he did not know if he would have had the stamina to do it now. The Cloak more-or-less carried him to his room as his body trembled, complete exhaustion overwhelming his entire being. He fell asleep near instantly.

It wasn’t until twelve hours later, as the dawn broke through his (unnatural) window to an untarnished view of the eastern coastline, that his exhaustion had dimmed to weariness and his mind had time to sort through everything that had happened.

Stephen had not spent his five years gone idle; unlike most other souls that were caught within the Soul Stone due to Thanos, he had an awareness of consciousness due to his connection to the Mystic Arts that made him able to utilize his time, even if time was not something he could feel passing. In those five years he had drawn power from the Soul Stone, a continuous draw into his own spirit to prepare for what he had to do upon his return.

(He knew, of course, that the Stone’s housing was disintegrated into atoms back in 2018. However, its raw energy was not actually gone, just scattered like the rest of the Infinity Stones. The first rule of thermodynamics was something Thanos did not consider, or maybe he did not care so long as that power was not easily obtainable for some time to come. In the end, he supposed it really didn’t matter.)

When he came to on Titan once more, he spared a minute briefly explaining the situation to the others, then asked for complete silence as he got them back to Earth, and more; for he had taken his borrowed energy to send a mental message to all warriors across the universe that he had found within the Soul Stone: The one who sent you away for five years must be defeated. Prepare for battle.

And then he made portals. So many fucking portals, portals he had no business having the ability to create, portals connected to the locations of those warriors across the universe, portals created with the power of the Soul Stone accumulated over five years and fully spent over the course of five minutes.

It was a damned miracle he had anything left in him for battle, but the Soul Stone was unlike any power source he had ever used before, including the Time Stone. Channeling the energy of Infinity Stones was unique to the standard rules of magic already, but the Soul Stone’s power was— indescribable.

So he had been able to battle. To hold himself up. And to watch as people from all over the universe, both the newly resurrected and those that had lived in a broken world, were slaughtered by Thanos’s armies. Slaughtered and with no way to return, not this time; he had used the Time Stone once to reverse death, and he had paid the price with several (hundreds, thousands) of his own deaths.

But the fabric of reality surrounding the battlefield was already torn by the combined actions of both the Avengers and Thanos, and it would tear even further with the final sacrifice; to use the Stones again at that moment, even one, was to rip the threads of the universe to pieces.

And so the dead remained dead.

Even though Stephen knew this, knew the logic behind his actions, knew that in triage situations, some people got the black tag—  it did not stop his stomach from twisting into a knot as he lay in bed, staring up at the ceiling and weighed down by the consequences of his actions.

In the silence and loneliness of the Sanctum, even while logic echoed in his head, guilt settled in the depths of Stephen’s core and began to make a home there.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Despite pretending everything was okay and despite going through the motions of his duties, the guilt grew into a beast that swiftly consumed Stephen’s being. He felt little need to eat and his sleep was plagued with new nightmares that caused him to work himself into exhaustion (and thus dreamless nights).

By the time Tony’s funeral arrived, he had lost several pounds and the raccoon eyes were becoming more prominent. A small glamour spell helped conceal that, but still Wong looked at him with thinly-veiled concern.

“Are you sure that the invitation was not just for you?” Stephen asked as he found a suit, miraculously still intact after years (literally years) of no wear.

“Of course I’m sure,” Wong said slowly, his voice carefully even. “You were mentioned by name.”

“Ah.” He cleared his throat. “I’ll be ready in time, then.”

Wong was still looking at him with that expressionless and yet all-knowing look, so Stephen turned away and went to the ensuite bathroom to avoid uncomfortable questions. They didn’t have time to prod into that right now.

After all, it would be rather rude of him to be late to the funeral of a man he had black tagged.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

His lack of regular meals and general lack of care for eating was a new thing for him in this post-Thanos world (but he just didn’t have time for such trivial pursuits as food, not when he had five years to catch up on and a very damaged border between realities to monitor, to attempt to repair). Stephen got away with not really eating anything substantial for two weeks after Tony’s funeral.

Apparently someone (probably Wong) noticed this and the trend came to an abrupt halt. 

It started with the steward of the New York Sanctum. The steward’s role fulfilled the very real need of seeing to the general care and maintenance of the very magical and rather finicky building; it could only be fully overseen by a fully-trained disciple while its Master was dealing with the mystical threats in their part of the world. Stephen’s steward had been snapped into oblivion at the same time as he and was replaced with someone who spoke very little English. He remained at the post after the return of the Disappeared and generally avoided him, which was all well and good for Stephen. However, two weeks after the funeral, his steward was suddenly transferred to London (with no input asked from him either, the nerve) and the London steward came to New York.

His new steward was a woman: Italian, about sixty years old, five feet tall, and potentially the scariest woman he had ever met.

If anyone ever discovered his thoughts on the matter, they might wonder how that was possible when Stephen had been under the tutelage of the Ancient One. To him, she was the most powerful woman he had ever known, but he did not equivocate power with terror.

Ludovica Guerriero, on the other hand, was downright frightening. She seemed nice on first meeting; he learned she had come to be a part of the order a year after the Decimation, for all her children and grandchildren had been lost in that event (and with that story his guilt buried itself deeper into his soul). Unlike some of the new recruits who left for their families once they returned, Ludovica stayed on; she liked keeping busy and could ‘go visit the family whenever I want to, anyway’.

At first it was fine. Her first day there, she rearranged things her way while Stephen beat back some inter-dimensional boggarts and sealed a rip between dimensions in Guatemala. When he portaled back to the Sanctum, something that could only be called Italian was permeating the halls that led to the kitchen with a rich mix of smells. Unwittingly, his stomach growled.

He stepped towards the kitchen, then paused. He did not have time to sit down and eat if he wanted to finish his research before his body ultimately gave out on him. But as he started towards the stairs, Ludovica’s voice came to him with, “Doctor Strange? Is that you?”

Stephen sighed quietly and then called, “It’s me.” He took the few remaining steps towards the kitchen and halted at the doorway. “Smells good, Mrs Guerriero.”

“I’m glad you think so. I thought I’d do something special for my first night in New York for our dinner.”

Best to tell her immediately of his plans. “Actually, I—”

She continued on as if he hadn’t said a thing. “This was my nonna’s recipe. Parmigiana di melanzane with tomato, aubergine, the freshest mozzarella cheese; all ingredients picked up in my home town today.”

He blinked, momentarily sidetracked. “Sorry, uh, aubergine?”

Her brow furrowed. “Is that not the right word? It is melanzane, you know—” She cut herself off and pulled a stem with only part of the purple fruit remaining upon it. “This plant.”

“Oh! Oh, yeah, that’s an eggplant.”

“Eggplant? What a strange name.” She started dishing out the bake. “Would you mind setting the table, doctor?”

“I…” he started in protest, but the look she gave him was so sweet and imploring and kind. It reminded him of his grandmother from when he was young. He exhaled slowly; so much for his plans. “Sure.”

And that parmigiana di melanzane was really fucking delicious. It had no right to be that good.

About a week later, when he realized he had somehow been corralled to the dinner table every night since her arrival (and was a couple pounds heavier because of it), Stephen Strange realized that, underneath that sweet exterior, Ludovica Guerriero was an emotionally manipulative mastermind that knew exactly what to say to get him to do exactly what she wanted. This was absolutely terrifying.

Stephen was going to kill Wong.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

Despite the terrible emotional manipulation being forced upon his person regarding (incredibly delicious) food, Stephen somehow maintained the status quo with his duties for five weeks after the funeral. He would work himself to utter exhaustion and only then find some rest (though even with this method the nightmares came on occasion, when he was just not exhausted enough, in his opinion).

(The part of his mind well-versed in psychology laughed incredulously at that line of thinking. He told that part of his mind to shut up and mind its own business, then threw himself in his work again.)

But eventually it all came crashing down. Of course it did; that was his life the last… however many years. Two or seven depending on how one counted.

The most embarrassing part was the situation that ended up being the straw that broke the camel’s back. It was stupid, completely irrelevant, and shouldn’t have even happened, but here he was.

It went like this:

Ludovica was out for the day with her family in Italy, Wong was over to discuss things, and they were both hungry. Neither of them felt like cooking, so.

“What do you want to eat?” Stephen asked as his glamour spell transformed his robes to something more normal for New York. “Pizza? Sandwiches? Thai? Something else?”

Wong thought for a moment. “I wouldn’t say no to a tuna melt.”

Stephen stilled his steps; that sounded familiar. Why did that sound familiar? It was just a sandwich—

‘I’ll tell the guys at the deli. Maybe they’ll make you a metaphysical ham on rye.’

Stephen blinked and placed a hand against the wall to steady himself. He heard Wong say, “Stephen?” but it sounded muffled and distant.

‘A… buck and a half,’ Wong admitted.

He sighed. ‘What do you want?’

Wong clapped his hands together and followed him down the rest of the stairs. ‘I wouldn’t say no to a tuna melt.’

The crash of breaking glass and wood, emitting a sound loud enough to almost contest the car accident.

Bruce Banner. Tony Stark. Thanos is coming. Ebony Maw. We swore an oath to protect the Time Stone with our lives. Fourteen million, six hundred and five. 

One.

“…en. Look at me, Stephen. You’re in the New York Sanctum Sanctorum. You’re safe. The cloak wants to reach out to you, Stephen, but I batted it away until you can look at me. You’re safe.”

Wong’s words managed to break through the cacophony of madness splitting his mind and he gasped as he focused his eyes on Wong. At some point he had ended up on the floor. His heart attempted to beat itself out of his chest.

When they made eye contact, Wong said without breaking it, “You can rest on him, but get back if his heart rate increases.” Then he continued, as the cloak gently settled itself on Stephen’s shoulders, “Copy my breathing, Stephen. Inhale… and exhale. Good, just like that. Again, inhale… and exhale. Again.”

His breathing evened out and his heart rate eventually slowed to something approaching normal, and Stephen was finally able to manage words. “Where—  where did you—  learn how to do—  do that?”

Wong didn’t answer. Rather, he asked, “Can I help you off the floor?”

Still in a daze he nodded his acquiescence, and Wong took an elbow and forearm and hoisted him up with the assistance of the cloak. He led Stephen to one of the smaller, quieter parlours within the Sanctum and sat him down in a comfortable chair. “I’ll be right back.”

'Right back’ was certainly not immediate, but Stephen lost track of time and Wong seemed to return nearly instantly, this time with a couple fresh cups of tea. He did not attempt to give it to Stephen, but rather set it down beside him. Clearly he saw just how badly his hands were trembling.

Wong took a seat across from him and brought his own cup to his lips. He said nothing as Stephen further calmed his heart rate and the tremors in his hands became less prominent.

Several minutes of silence later, Stephen murmured, “Sorry.”

“I knew it would happen sooner or later,” was Wong’s answer. Stephen swallowed and said nothing. “You cannot continue going on like this.”

Stephen’s instinctive reaction was denial, but he could feel Wong’s eyes on him and his retort fell before it could even begin. “There’s too much to do,” he said instead.

“There always is,” was Wong’s reply.

The silence sat between them again when Wong did not expound further and Stephen battled against a myriad of emotions within his own mind. He tried to distract himself with tea, but the shaking in his hand was too prominent, too debilitating, so he withdrew it.

Another two minutes passed. “I have been given another chance in this world,” he tried instead. “All my efforts should go to protecting it.”

Wong eyed him expressionlessly. “Your efforts have gone above and beyond most. They have seen the resurrection of all life that was unjustly taken five years ago.”

“Those were not my efforts,” Stephen argued. “That was the Avengers.”

“And you set them on that path.”

The tremors increased. He swallowed heavily. “My efforts caused the entire universe to suffer for years. My efforts brought an intergalactic war to Earth’s soil. My efforts brought chaos and despair that led to so much death.” His voice broke on that last word and he turned his head away from Wong.

Wong permitted him a moment before speaking again. “I was told it was over fourteen million futures you saw.” A shudder ran through Stephen in reply. “At what point did you see this future?”

He swallowed. “Somewhere around four million.”

“And you searched another ten million after.”

His hands would not stop their violent shaking. He loosely gripped at the cloak and it curled around his hand. “I’m not—  I’ve done triage before,” he started. “Battle of New York. We didn’t have the resources to—  to save everyone. We had to pick our cases. Before the accident, it was one of the most difficult moments of my life.

“But this reality was—  it was too much to ask. There were too many black tags. I knew there… there were hundreds of millions of permutations. Maybe billions. But I could not sustain the strength needed to search further. I was not… not strong enough.” And to his horror, he felt tears falling from his eyes. He could not look at Wong.

“Stephen. Stephen, look at me.” Reluctantly, after a brief moment, he turned his face towards him. Wong’s steadfast look was blurred by the unwanted tears. “You are the strongest man I have ever known. What you did no other human being could have accomplished.” Stephen’s gaze lowered. “And you must remember: you saw the paths of the future, but you did not control its course. Everyone had their own free will to make the choices they made; they knew death was a real possibility, but they chose to fight.”

Another shudder ran through his entire body and he felt the cloak increase its pressure against him ever so slightly. He placed his face in his trembling hands and just tried to get a grip.

He suddenly felt a hand on his shoulder. “It’s not your fault, Stephen,” Wong muttered.

His tenuous grasp on his emotions completely broke. Another full body shudder ran through him before an ugly sob broke past his lips. Once it started, it was as if a dam had been broken; all his grief and guilt released itself then, the all-encompassing pain overwhelming his entire being. Even as he wept and mourned everything that had been lost, the cloak carefully curled about him and Wong remained a silent, steadfast presence at his side. His hand never left his shoulder.

And with the brick wall he had put about his heart finally breaking down, Stephen began to take his first steps towards recovery.

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

“Oh, Doctor, you have mail.”

Stephen looked up from the tome to stare at Ludovica. “Mail? As in… from the mailbox?”

“Where else does mail come from?” she answered with a soft tut. He took the envelope from her and she left the study.

He frowned at the address. Upstate New York. What was in upstate New York? He carefully opened the envelope and unfolded the letter.

Oh. They finished rebuilding the Avengers compound. And… a celebration. A memorial, for Tony Stark, Natasha Romanoff, and all those who gave their lives over a year ago.

And he, Wong, and any sorcerer who wished to attend were invited to celebrate their lives.

Stephen’s eyes grew distant for a moment as his mind went back to that day. The ache was still there, but it did not consume him anymore. It had joined the other poignant, bittersweet reminders of days past, of those gone but still within living memory.

He softly exhaled before standing to head down the hall to Kamar-Taj. He was sure there were many who would be interested in attending, and to remember those gone so that they would not be forgotten.

——

A/N: Someone with the dedicated duty of basically babysitting Sanctums while their Masters fight off things was lovingly borrowed from keshwyn on AO3. Her series of one-shots around this figure are super super super gorgeous, go read them. Wonderful character development (I’ll write a proper fic rec soon)

(had to save it as jpg because for some reason it’s not letting me save as a png on photoshop atm? ugh)(and formatting should be fixed double ugh)

[rogsclogs]

Some Day One Day (Brian May x Reader); part 8

some angst at the end for you all because this story has been way too fluffy so far and that just ain’t my style lmao 

enjoy :)

taglist: @brighter-thanthe-sky @im-a-sheerheartattack @fruityfreddie @discodeacygotmorerhythm @killer-queen-xo @destiel-stucky4ever-loki-queen @alfinaldelarcoiriss @warren-lauren (I’m sorry for some reason I wasn’t able to tag your other account, I hope this is fine anyway).   to be added to the tag list please message me.

Part 1 Part 2  Part 3  Part 4  Part 5  Part 6  Part 7  Part 9

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Y/N felt like she was living a double life, the first being her regular life when she was at school and the second being the new life she had started to create with Brian.

From 9 am to 5 pm she was old regular Y/N, who was your typical college student, and she talked to all her old friends like she always used to, even though she kept the biggest secret from them. In fact, she had not told anyone about what was going on in her private life, not even Joe knew about it, no matter how much she truly cared for him and trusted him. 

All she had told him was that she was going through some family problems and that she was staying with a friend for some time, which wasn't a complete lie after all.

Except her ‘friend’ was their professor, but that wasn't important.

Her ‘friend’ was someone she’d been building such a great relationship with every day from 5 pm until the morning. 

Her new life was exciting and terrifying at the same time, she helped him out with Emily as much as she could, picking her up from daycare and secretly taking her to get ice cream (if she promised not to tell Brian) (he actually knew but he just pretended he didn't because they were far too adorable for him to mind it), helping her get dressed in the morning and brush her teeth at night. She had become a motherly figure for Emily and she loved it, although the idea of children had never been much appealing to her in the past.

Every night her and Brian would take some time after putting Em to bed to go over all the notes she had been taking during lectures and he made sure to explain everything throughly more than once, taking small breaks in between chapters to drink some tea and make out on the couch. They had never gone any further than that and Brian wanted to, God only knows how much he wanted to, but he just wasn’t sure how to bring it up casually, without embarrassing her or making her feel like he was being pushy and desperate, so he kept to himself and tried to hide his excitement whenever they kissed, both fiscal and emotional.

Was she his girlfriend? He had no idea, they never talked about it in depth, only agreeing to keeping things between them as secret as possible, but they were pretty much living together at that point and that's all that mattered to him. 

He never wanted to let her go, and every time she told him she could go home if he had gotten tired of her, he just pulled her into his chest and kissed her so deeply that all her thoughts got lost in translation.

He had also finally grown the balls to tell her he loved her, which had first happened a couple of weeks after she told him first. Not that she minded being the only one to say it, she knew how hard it was for him to open up and let his emotions free, she was familiar with the heartbreaks and demons of his past, so she was absolutely okay with him taking his time to sort his feelings out. Needless to say, she was over the moon when he first told her he loved her after a heated make out session. She was on cloud nine.

As long as there was love between them, their relationship didn't need labels.

The only thing about them that kinda bothered Y/N was how secretive they had to be all the time.

Of course when they were both at school and she had to act like nothing more than a student she was careful, but he never wanted her to go out with him at all. If she was picking up Em after school, then he wasn’t going with her, if either of them went grocery shopping they had to go by themselves and they couldn't even go out for dinner together once in a while.

Brian was scared to death that someone from school would see them and spread the word, and that would mean losing everything they had both worked so hard for, so he wasn't willing to take any risks.

And Y/N understood, she really did, but at the same time she often felt like a prisoner because she wanted to spend all her spare time with Brian and being with him meant staying home, which got quite tough after a while.

She became more irritable and all her friends had notice a change in her attitude, especially Joe with whom she spent most of her time in school. He was so used to being made aware of mostly everything that went on in Y/N’s life that he could immediately tell when something wasn't right, and he couldn’t help but notice how stressed and tired she had been looking most of the time lately.

What he didn't know was that it wasn't just the pressure of having to retake the exam to keep her up at night, but also her anxiety about the relationship with Brian and where it was headed.

Her and Brian had even had a small argument about it, he’d lost his patience and raised his voice at her more than he’d ever done before, which obviously scared her because it was almost impossible for him to lose his patience. 

He had profusely apologized for it right after of course, plus it is normal for people who live together all the time to have discussions every once in a while, right? 

No matter what, Joe could sense something in her head was bothering her and he knew just what he needed to do to help her out.

“Hey Y/N, would you like to come to the movies with me tonight? It’s been a while since we’ve last hung out together after all and maybe it would be useful for you to go out every once in a while”.

He wasn't wrong after all. She had been so busy with her new life that she had almost forgotten how to live for herself, how to just go out for fun and not think about anything stressing her out for a while.

“Hey Joe, yeah I would love to go! Any particular movie you have in mind?”

“I was thinking of getting tickets for the new Star Wars movie if that's okay with you of course”

Y/N had not even seen the first couple of Star Wars movie and quite frankly she wasn't all that interested, but she was so happy to just be spending time with her friend and finally be a normal twenty something year old for a night that she didn't even try to question it, she would have watched any movie about anything. She just agreed, pretending to know what the saga was about and figuring she would just try not to fall asleep if the movie ended up being boring.

“Should I come pick you up at around seven?” She shivered at his question, of course he didn’t know any better but the thought alone of him picking her up from their professor’s house was horror movie worthy to her.

“No, don’t even worry about it, I’ll just get my mom to drop me off at whichever movie theatre we decide to go, it’s no big deal”.

Joe only insisted for a while before giving up on trying to argue and letting her get back to her lecture, which she knew was going to be one of the longest of her life.

Brian could tell she was in a great mood as soon as she stepped into the apartment later that day, and started questioning her about it soon enough.

“So, what's gotten you in such an amazing mood baby?”

“Joe asked me to go see the new Star Wars movie with him tonight, and I’m so happy I could cry. It’s been a while since I’ve taken some time off to be with my friends, you know”.

Brian didn't immediately figure out who she was talking about, not used to remembering his students’ first names, but then it hit him since she had briefly talked about him before.

“Joe as in Mr. Stevenson who used to attend my lectures last semester with you?”

“Well yes, but he did end up passing the test so that's why you haven't seen much of him lately. You can just call him Joe now” she laughed at the last part.

He was perplexed for some reason. It felt weird to know that she was going to go out with someone other than him, especially someone who he could tell had a crush on Y/N. He left a sudden wave of jealousy run through his veins, and he hated himself for it because after all she was free to hang out with whoever she wanted, but he couldn’t help it.

Of course he wanted her to have a good time, he just wanted her to have it with him in the comfort of his house (actually, to him it was their house by then, he considered her part of the family without a doubt).

“Wouldn’t you rather stay home with me? We can watch a movie and I can go grab us some dinner! Maybe Italian food? That's your favorite, isn't it?”

“Well, yeah, but I mean I haven't been out with Joe in so long and I honestly miss him, I’m going to be watching a movie either way, it’s just that I always do that with you”

“You don't even like Star Wars”

“It’s not that I don't like it, I have just never cared for it, but who’s to say that can't change?” She was starting to get irritated at him, after all he wasn't her father and he had no right to act so protective of her when she wasn't even doing anything that she needed protection from.

“But why won’t you just stay here with me? We have to go over some lectures from this week, you need to study for your test!” Truth is he was jealous of the kind of relationship Joe could offer her.

It was no issue for them to be seen in public together, he could take her out and make her happy any time he wanted to, and Brian couldn't. He just couldn't risk being seen by someone and he knew that it was taking a toll on Y/N, but the last thing he wanted was for her to realize that he wasn't worth the hustle and that Joe was a much better party.

“Oh come on Brian, don’t be like that! I am spending all of my free time here with you and Emily lately, and I don't mind that but sometimes I would like to go out with my friends and be normal for once”.

That last part hit Brian differently, and he felt like he was on the verge of tears.

“So you don't think our relationship is normal enough for you?”

“Of course it’s not, and you know that very well. You know, because you’re the one always telling me that we have to keep it a secret like we’re some sort of spies that work for the government or whatever. You’re the one always lecturing me on the risks of going out together and all of that, you know for a fact this isn't what a normal relationship is like”.

He didn't know what to say to that. She was right and he hated it, he wanted to be able to give her the world, but felt stuck inside a small box that he was forcing her to stay in with him, and that was a very unfair way of treating her, especially considering how much he really loved her.

“Then... then why are you still here Y/N?” 

She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

“What do you mean why am I still here?”

“Why haven't you gone back to your parents yet? Why is all of your stuff still in my apartment if you feel like you're so unhappy here?” He knew that the words coming out of his mouth were most likely untrue, but it didn't matter to the anger and sadness coming from inside of him.

“Because I love you Brian, and you know”

“Do I?” Why was he being so spiteful to her? Of course he knew she loved him, she showed him every fucking day. Why was he being so difficult? He didn't know the answer.

Y/N was left speechless after that, feeling the weight of a thousand stones drop on her heart. She didn't know where to look or how to act, afraid of setting him off even more and afraid of what he might do, after all she had never seen him that upset before. She quickly grabbed her backpack and wallet from her room, which actually used to be sort of like a storage room that Brian had redecorated for her to feel at home in, took one last look at him and left without another word being said.

[overwatchladieslover]

yooo so I had an idea... Fem!Reader works as tattoo artist at a high end tattoo parlor and meet some Overwatch ladies when they come in to get some ink.

You inspired me, so I decided to turn this into a semi-regular fic ! Thank youu !! 

Tracer:She’s this client who drops in every once in a while, to try and schedule anappointment, but forgets it, or sets her mind on a different design. It takes ayear of this dance for Lena to actually get her tattoo. Shakes so much you’dthink the girl is a walking vibrator. Rambles for the entire duration of theinking.

Symmetra:Calm, already knows what she wants to get, a pleasure to work with. A bitsilent, doesn’t appear to feel pain, but keeps her eyes off the needle.

Pharah: Astatue. Knew from a young age what she wanted to get. Doesn’t flinch, despitethe fact that her first tattoo is on a sensible zone. Once it’s done, she looksat herself in the mirror, and her smile seems rather sad.

Zarya:Loves getting inked, but she has to be reminded to stay still a few times,since she has a rather endearing habit of talking with her hands. She andFareeha are often hanging out at the parlor, ever since Fareeha got hooked ontattoos. She’s not as hardcore as Zarya, who’s starting to look like a splendidtapestry.

Mercy: Shechose this parlor for hygiene reasons and is rather fidgety. She chose to gethuge wings inked on her back, which earns her a few remarks from Moira, whotagged along to get inked with her. Rambles through the pain, to aninsufferably smug geneticist.

Moira: Isused to getting tattooed, actually convinced Angela to get inked at the parlor.When she learned about the medic’s design, she scoffed before chuckling for 5minutes nonstop. She doesn’t seem to feel the pain, and takes it all in herstride, smirking at her colleague’s discomfort.

Sombra:She’s got a ton of tattoos, which she flaunts along her cybernetic enhancementsat the parlor, where she spends a lot of her time. Occasionally helps theartists when they are out of ideas for designs.

Widowmaker:Stone cold. Asks for what she wants, has very high standards. Very quiet. Onlytalks when spoken to. When she discovers that both Overwatch and Talon frequentthe parlor, she dies a bit on the inside.

Brigitte:Zarya has to hold her hand. Brigitte almost breaks a chair with her death grip.Tries to keep up her façade and not to cry. If she so much as gets teary-eyed,Fareeha steps in front of her, sheltering her from anyone trying to steal aglance at the mechanic.

D.Va: Is inthe exact same predicament as Brigitte, and will become her tattoo buddy, sincethey both have strange reactions to this kind of pain. D.Va feels the urge tokick everything.

Ashe:Doesn’t mind the pain, welcomes it. She’s pretty chill during the inking butbreaks the rules and often smokes in the parlor. No one tries to stop her,though. Hangs out with Widowmaker and Sombra most of the time.

Mei: Silently cries during the entire durationof the inking but doesn’t protest or anything. Everyone in the parlor lovesher, and finds her adorable, until she roasts a rude customer to death. Ifanyone tries to hurt her, they’re in for a world of pain.

Fanfiction,cause I love spoiling ya.

It was yourfirst day in the Cerance tattoo parlor. You were beyond excited, for it was arenowned establishment, and you looked forward to meeting your new colleagues.

One of yourcolleagues, named Louis, whom was 75% steel and only 35% human, given all thepiercings and augmentations he had, was waiting by the front door to give you atour.

The Cerancebuilding had three floors and an attic, it was an imposing sight. The darkmarble contrasted with the flashing white of the intricate mouldings. Twocolumns, black with matching white and gold mouldings. The kitsch architectureseemed to flaunt the parlour’s wealth and status as one of the best in theworld.

“I know,makes me wanna puke too.” Said Louis, despite his three-piece suit, and neatlytrimmed beard, a certain aura of nonchalance followed him.

The firstfloor was reserved for ‘nobodies’, random people who saved for months on end toafford a tattoo at the infamous Cerance parlour. Celebrities, influencers andanyone who was someone, winded up on the second floor. It was lavishlyfurnished, just like the rest of the building, but there was an actual bar, andwaiters almost running from room to room. A French door led to a balcony, whereclients and guests smoked while appreciating the inner courtyard’s garden.

You askedLouis about the third floor, as your colleague showed you the basement. Heturned around.

“We aren’tallowed to ask. Only few of the artists have access to it, it’s under heavyguard. There are separate stairs to get to the third floor…And rumour has it,the clients get to it by using a secret elevator.” He whispered, his eyesdarting to the sides.

“Woah, thatis not suspicious at all.” You grinned. He seemed shocked by your attitude, andresumed his tour with the equipment stored in the basement.

Once yourlittle tour was over, Louis sent you to the second floor, to get to your boss,a man going by the name of Trelawny. You tried asking some of the waitpersons,but they were too busy, flashing apologetic smiles as they dashed past.

Stumblingto the bar, you barely had the time to catch your breath, after dodging withthe servers, as a hand gripped your shoulder.

“You mustbe the new recruit!” You spun around to meet a middle-aged woman, with a tightponytail and an even tighter blouse.

“I am. I’mY/N, a pleasure to make you-” You didn’t even have time to finish yoursentence, the hand you had extended for a formal handshake had been used topropel you into a closet you had not even noticed, hidden behind a lush plant.

“We don’thave time for pleasantries dear, there’s a uniform for you on the bench, getdressed quickly!” She slammed the door before you had time to tell her that youwere a tattoo artist, not a waiter.

You decidednot to act out on your first day, instead getting dressed as fast as you could,tripping in the dark, failing to find the switch.

Rushing outof the closet, a barman slid a tray in your hands, barking out several rooms inyour ear, as it was hard to hear amidst the chatter and the obnoxious pianoplaying in the background.

You spentabout two hours playing the waitress, your lungs begged for mercy. You put yourtray on the bar, waiting for your next order.

You turnedaround, already ready to run at full speed to your client, before collidingwith someone. The drinks spilled on your uniform, and you knocked your head onthe way down.

“Shit,” Youhissed, opening your eyes to see an extended hand. “I’m so sorry Miss, I shouldhave been more careful, it’s my first day and…” The hand pulled you up, and youfussed over the client’s ruined shirt, dabbing furiously at the mix of drinksmaking the white shirt quite transparent, enough for you to see a blue light onthe customer’s chest.

For thefirst time since your misadventure, you looked up to see the world famous adventurer,Lena Oxton herself.

“Motherfucker.”You let out, eyes wide as saucer, without realising it.

This causedthe Brit to erupt into a contagious fit of laughter.

You claspedyour hand over your mouth, terribly embarrassed.

“I’m-I’m sosorry, I didn’t mean to say that, my nerves got the best of me, and also sosorry for running into you with my tray, and ruining your shirt, I’ll pay youback, I am so sorry Miss Oxton, forgive me for my mistake-” Lena Oxtoninterrupted your rambling with a wave of her hand, as the last of her laughtersubsided.

“It’s allright luv, we all make mistakes! Plus, that was funny! I’ve never been greetedwith ‘motherfucker’ before, so that’s refreshing.” She giggled, helping youpick up your tray and what was left of the drinks you were supposed to deliver.

You heard aloud gasp behind you, to find the woman who pushed you into the closet.

“What haveyou done? Miss Oxton, I apologise for the stupidity of this klutz!” She grabbedyou by your ear, pinching forcefully.

“It’s quitealright Madame Isabelle, she made me laugh!” She smiled brightly, shooing awaythe waiters attempting to dry her shirt.

“You aregetting to Mister Trelawny’s office right now, young lady!” Spat MadameIsabelle, dragging you by the lobe of your ear through a labyrinth of corridor.As you left the common room, Lena Oxton offered a sympathetic shrug.

You arrivedin the lavishly decorated office, soaked to the bone, with your ear on fire,and feeling absolutely mortified.

MadameIsabelle came in first, telling you to wait for a few minutes. You tried tomake yourself look decent, but to no avail.

You heardher yelling through the massive oak door, and felt her stomping against thewooden floor.

The doorswung open, revealing an incredibly tall man, with a fabulous moustache and aridiculously large top hat.

“Ah! Thereshe is!” Grinned the man, “I’ve been looking for you all over, Miss Y/N!” Hegrabbed your hand, placing a smooth kiss over it.

“Please doforgive Madame Isabelle for her temper, she lives off rage and bitterness.”Trelawny cast a wink your way, as Isabelle shrieked with outrage.

“MisterTrelawny!”

“Yes, thatis my name, dearest Madame. You are dismissed, and please, double check thatthe waiters you mistreat are not renowned tattoo artists.” Grinned Trelawny,his eyes twinkling with mischief.

MadameIsabelle scoffed at the cold dismissal, before stomping away.

“My dear, Itruly apologise for what our dear Madame has put you through,” He extended hisarm, which you took gladly, as he led you into his office. “I hope that you arestill willing to join us, despite this…incident.”

You satdown on a comfortable armchair, in front of a fire, as your boss poured yousome cognac.

“I am alsoat fault, I should have been more cautious, but I accept your apology. I simplyhope that Miss Oxton has a spare shirt around.”

Trelawnylaughed at that, before sitting down next to you.

“Miss Oxtonpractically lives her, I gather she has her own quarters.” He took a sip of hisown glass, barely grimacing at the sour taste.

“I didn’tknow this parlour doubled as a hotel.” You looked at him questioningly.

“Y/N, theCerance is more than meets the eye.” He winked, as the twirled the tip of hismoustache, apparently deep in thought. “Your former employer mentioned yourdiscretion, I trust you will do very well on the third floor.”

That earneda gasp from you.

“I heard itwas rather hard to get in, why me?” You asked.

“You’veproven yourself to be quite versatile, which will be a key quality on the thirdfloor. As well as your discretion, since you will be working withrather…peculiar customers.” He chuckled, he was about to say something beforethe door to his office flew open, revealing a rather dishevelled Brit.  

“Josiah!Don’t fire her, she meant no harm at all!” Huffed and puffed Lena, resting herhands on her knees.

This causedTrelawny to erupt into a belly-deep round of laughter. The puzzled adventurerlooked at you, confused.

“He is notgoing to fire me, I think…” You tried to explain, still struggling to processthe situation yourself.

“Sinceyou’re here, darling Lena, would you mind showing our dearest Y/N to the thirdfloor?”

Oxtonnodded eagerly, smiling from ear to ear.

“You’recoming to the Third? Oh man, now, that’s great news! We’re gonna have tons offun!” She didn’t waste any time, grabbing you by your arm and all but draggingyou through a complex labyrinth of corridors and doors, until you reached aseemingly forgotten broom closet.

“Uhh…” Youwere about to ask Miss Oxton if she was lost, as she pulled on a shelf. A dingsound echoed in the room, as the wall cut in half, revealing an elevator.

“Is allthis secrecy necessary?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Quite.”She winked, before blinking in the elevator, just as the doors opened. Yourushed after her, resisting the urge to gawk at her powers.

Lenawhistled, pointedly avoiding making any small talk. Just as the doors startedto open, she patted your shoulder.

“Listen,everything you see in here, stays in here. Josiah trusts you, and so do I, Ithink you’re an honest lass, but you can’t be too careful.” She sounded quiteserious, which seemed to be rather rare.

You nodded.“I’ve had to work with rather strange clients before, I don’t suppose this willbe any more diffi-” And as you walked out of the elevator, you found yourselfface to face with Mei-Ling Zhou.

“Oh, hi!”She smiled and waved excitedly, “You must be the new girl everyone keepstalking about, I’m Mei!”

“I, hum,I’m Y/N, a pleasure, Miss Zhou.” You had read her journal, it was an honour tomeet her in the flesh.

“No need tobe so formal, Y/N! Mei’s just fine!” She giggled, before stepping aside,revealing a door leading into a titanic lounge, where several celebrities andinfamous spies, snipers and outlaws seemed to be lazing about.

You didn’teven realise your mouth was wide open until Lena gently pushed it close.

“Told you!”She blinked past you and onto the bar’s counter.

“Heyeveryone! This is Y/N, and she’ll be taking care of us from now on! Be nice,and remember, Hana, no biting!” All the attention was now focused on you, asvarious members greeted you.

You feltcold sweat running down your spine, as you gathered yourself and offered a waveand a smile.

This wasgoing to be a long, long day.

Just asLena dropped down from the countertop, a white-haired woman with blood-red eyesstood in front of you, hand extended.

“Ashe.” Shestated.

“Y/N.” Youshook her hand firmly, causing her to smirk approvingly at your grip.

“I want atattoo. On my back.”

“Alright,but I have no idea where the tattoo rooms are on this floor.”

She shookher head.

“We gettattooed where we want to, but we have a room for the squishies.” She pointedover her shoulder to the world-renowned gamer, Hana Song, who, without lookingup from her handheld gaming device, gave Ashe the bird.

“Isn’t itdangerous?” You asked, cocking your head to the side, where a small mountain ofenergy drinks stood menacingly on the coffee table in front of the Korean gamer.

This causeda round of laughter to erupt around the room.

A giant ofa woman, with bright pink hair, which you knew to be the infamous AleksandraZaryanova, slapped your shoulder, sending you tumbling onto the sofa where thegamer was lounging.

You landedon something that was too rough to be a simple couch. You opened your eyes tosee a woman materialising out of thin air, just under you.

“Well, youhave a strange way of introducing yourself, Y/N.” Grinned the not-a-couch lady.

“What theever-loving fuck?” You muttered.

She cackled,saying something along the lines of ‘I like this one’ in Spanish, beforedisappearing, leaving you to crash onto the couch again.

“What thehell was that?” You asked, your eyebrows raised so high they met your hairline.

“Oh, that’sjust Sombra.” Came a voice, with a noticeable French accent, from behind thebar. A tall figure with long, silky black hair so dark it seemed blue, and askin to match, was pouring wine into fancy-looking glasses.

“Sombra, asin the group of hackers? She’s a member?” You were completely bewildered, what wasgoing on here?!

“Oh, no,she is the group of hackers. To put it simply.” Answered the mountain of awoman that was Zarya.

You were completelybaffled at their lack of secrecy. Someone tapped on your shoulder. TheFrenchwoman was handing you a glass of wine.

“I don’tdrink when I work.” You stated.

“In thisplace, agents of Overwatch, Talon, Vishkar and many more meet. Believe me, youwill need a drink.”

“Thanks, Iguess…” You took a sip of the wine, as the white-haired woman was staring youdown intensely.

“Let’s get to work, Y/N.”

You finallymade it back to your apartment, a bottle of whiskey tucked under your arm.

Closing thedoor, you sighed heavily.

“My life isso fucking weird.” You stated, sinking to your knees against the door.

“Oh man,shit hasn’t even started.” A familiar voice came from your left, revealing thewoman you now knew to be Sombra, crouching next to you.

You jumpedto your feet, holding your hand against your thundering heart.

“What are youdoing here?”

“Well, yousee, our work is very important, but we need a place to unwind. As always, I amobliged to give you the mandatory ‘spill the beans and we’ll spill your brains’talk.” She came closer to you, a feline-like approach, which made you feel likea prey.

“So, youkeep your pretty mouth shut, and you’ll get a big, fat payroll each month. Not thatyour apartment’s bad… It’s certainly… something.” She gestured to the crumblingwalls. “And also, you’ll get to restock your fridge.”

So, shehelped herself to your food. What a dear.

“I justmoved in, and it was rather tough to find a decent flat in the borough.” Youtried to justify yourself, in vain, as Sombra tutted, while waving her finger.

“Don’tworry your pretty head over it, Y/N. Keep quiet, and keep working, and everythingwill be fine.”

“How will Iknow you guys won’t come after me after my contract is through?” You asked, asSombra made a beeline for your kitchen, downing the rest of your apple juice. Youdared not utter a word, despite the fact that it was the last semi-edible thingyou possessed.

“Sometimes,”She rested against the windowsill, the open window making her hair fly,highlighting her gorgeous features and feline grin. “You gotta take a leap of faith.”

She letherself fall from the window. You gasped, your bottle of whiskey shattering againstthe ground, as you ran to the window, only for you to catch a glimpse of brightpurple particles in the air.

“What adrama queen.” You sighed, massaging your temples. You cleaned up the remains ofthe shattered glass, before gazing into your fridge, hoping to find a yoghurtto sate your growing hunger, only to see that it had been completely restockedwith fresh vegetables, meat, white wine…

Maybe thisjob wasn’t so bad after all .

[quietcatastrophe]

To Begin Again- Chapter 6

I’ll keep this brief by simply saying thank you to everyone who has supported the journey of this story. This chapter is a pretty emotional glimpse into Jamie’s past, and I needed to make sure I did him justice. I know I’m the absolute worst about regular updates, but I’m grateful for your patience, and for everyone who has messaged to send encouragement. This chapter it dedicated to you guys! 

Edit: I’m my rush to post yesterday, I forgot to mention my extraordinary beta @mo-nighean-rouge who polishes this tale to a shine for you all. She’s definitely the best, and I’m so grateful to her for coming on this ride with me!

Previously: 1 2 3 4 5

         Jamie’s never been a particularly great traveler—prone to feelings of nausea and vertigo, especially if he’s not the one in the driver’s seat. But there’s something about the train that he’s always found soothing. There’s a steady dependability to the tracks, the course never really changing, and the clip of the scenery as it passes by the large windows makes him feel less trapped. It also reminds him of his childhood, tagging along with his father when he performed inspections. He still remembers the swell of importance he felt when his Da placed a much too large helmet on his head, and a lurid orange ScotsRail safety vest over his shoulders.

But for every happy memory, every fond recollection, there are the shadows of others that are more bittersweet. When he first thought of bringing Claire to Lallybroch, he imagined them making this trip together—sitting maybe a little too close to each other as he regaled her with stories about the Scottish countryside—but he finds himself lost in the spiral of his thoughts. He hasn’t told her much about his past—too concerned with her present, unwilling to drag her down with the demons that he’s mostly left behind. He can tell that she’s observed the change in his mood though, notices the surreptitious glances she sends him when she thinks he’s looking out the window. He’s not hiding from her, exactly, but he’s never been comfortable with his own vulnerability. He sees her reflection in the window, can see the way she wrestles with her own thoughts as they dance across her face. She is without guile—totally unable to hide the things she’s feeling or thinking— and he envies her in a way. He’s lived within the walls of his self-imposed fortress for so long, it’s hard to remember what it’s like to have someone to confide in.

“Are you alright, Jamie? You look a little bit lost.” Her fingers twist together in her lap, and he can’t resist reaching out with his own hand to calm their motion.

“I’m alright, Sassenach. I just get a wee bit melancholy when I think of going home. It’s nothing to trouble yerself over.” He sends her a smile that’s meant to placate, but he can tell it misses the mark. Maybe that fortress is not as strong as it once was.

“Jamie, you don’t have to share anything with me if you don’t wish to, but you don’t need to hide from me either. I wouldn’t be a particularly good friend if I only ever unloaded my burdens on you, and never gave you the opportunity to do the same.” She pauses briefly, her eyes imploring him to trust in her, the way she’s trusted in him. “Besides, you’re not the only one who can be a verra good listener.” She leans closer, bumps her shoulder into his, a teasing smile shining at him. He doesn’t want to add any more stress to her life—doesn’t want her to feel like she needs to be sorry for him. But he’s never been able to open up about his past, hasn’t ever talked about those years to anyone outside of his own family.

Looking into her eyes, he sees nothing but her honest concern for him. It’s not pity—not exactly, anyway— but rather the sense that their tragedies might mirror one another. It is the difference between sympathy and empathy, thinking and knowing. He thought he was better at hiding it, better at keeping it tucked away, but perhaps in this instance he’s found the one person who might truly understand the way he feels. He already knows he can trust Claire, a fact that makes everything else seem a little less scary. Decision made, he tightens his grip on her hands and draws in a fortifying breath.

“I was a verra lucky lad growing up. I had two parents that loved each other fully, and we bairns were never wanting for anything. We werena rich by any means, but our needs were well met. My mamwas an artist, a painter mostly, and her work was well-respected. My dawas an engineer on these rail lines.” He gestures to the car around them, and she smiles softly at him, encouraging him to continue.

“Our troubles didna start until we were a bit older. My Mam, she was in a car accident. It uh..she wasna...It didna take her right away.” He inhales a shaking breath, remembering the day his mother was brought to the hospital. “She was alive, but she never regained consciousness. They said she had a traumatic brain injury, and other internal bleeding.”

He feels his stomach start to turn as he recalls the details of that day. “It wasn’t until they started prepping her for surgery that they found…they realized she was pregnant. It was early on they said, she may not have even known herself. She was 38, but it had been twelve years since I was born, so I dinna even think they thought it was still possible.” He hears the interruption in Claire’s breathing, feels the way she shifts and curls into herself, a subconscious attempt to protect and shield the bairn growing within her.   

He swipes at the tears that have begun to fall, unable to lift his gaze from the laces of his shoes. His hand is displaced as he feels Claire slide closer to him, looping her arm through his, and leaning her head against his shoulder. She squeezes his arm gently, and it’s enough to bring his eyes back to meet hers. They’re flooding with moisture just like his own, but rather than feeling drowned by her tears, he feels buoyed. They’re swimming in the sea of tragedy together. It’s enough to give him the strength to continue.

“My Da...he started to drink after. And no’ just drink like a Scotsman, mind ye. He was drunk from dawn until whenever he finally passed out from too much drink. We were all grown enough to know he had a problem, even when he was still trying to hide it from us,” He pauses to wipe away a few more tears that have escaped. Claire rests steadfastly against his side.

“Eventually, it got so bad that he couldna keep his job. That’s when Murtagh came to stay with us. But the damage was already well done by then. Willie was 18, and getting ready to leave for university in America. He was so ashamed of Da, I dinna think they spoke but in anger those few months. Jenny was 16, and already dating Ian at the time. She all but moved into his house once things got worse, shared a bedroom with Ian’s sister.” He tries to remember to make himself breathe-in through the nose, out from the mouth-repeating in his head.

“They say everyone deals with grief differently. My da dealt with it by drinking until he couldna remember. My brother got as far away from us as he could go. My sister ran away to another family, one that was whole and healthy. And then there was me.” It’s always been the hardest part for him—remembering the sudden isolation, the bitter loneliness—knowing with sudden and cruel certainty that there was nobody in the would he could depend on but himself. He drapes his palms over his bent knees, his knuckles flexing with tension.

“I considered myself a man already at twelve, ye ken? For a while I thought I could manage things when everyone else couldn’t. I thought I could be strong enough for everybody else. But time went on, and I was all alone. I got angry, Sassenach.” He looks to her, finding her eyes swollen with tears, but also smoldering with an anger of their own.

“I was angry at my mam, for leaving us. It was no’ right or fair of me, but things had been fine before she was gone. She left us alone, and we all fell apart without her. I was mad at my brother and sister, for leaving me behind. They had the means to escape and they used them, but I was still a boy, no matter what I thought about it. I was mad at my Da the most though. He couldna take care of himself, let alone mind me. By the time Murtagh came, I was different.” Her expression softens, and from anyone else it would feel too much like pity. But he knows that she truly understands. Knows that she’s also spent too much time alone and angry at everyone that left.

“I canna pretend I was an angel before it all, but after… I shut everyone out. If they were going to abandon me, I’d do the same. I was disobedient and reckless. Just a rude little bugger. Poor Murtagh threatened to skelp me on an almost daily basis, but I didna care.” He remembers these days a little more wistfully as his angry independence days. Making his own choices, taking charge, doing whatever he liked… it was his Peter Pan year.

“But as I got older, things only got worse. I made friends with the wrong crowd, started sneaking out and then just leaving for days at a time. I fancied myself a wee renegade ye see, acted as if I was invincible. I didna think Da even knew most of the times I’d run off. I always expected that I’d get back, and he’d be waiting for me in the dooryard with his arms crossed, ready to knock some sense back into me,” he attempts a weak smile, but feels the corners of his lips turn down instead. “He didna have any sense to spare then, though. Then it was Murtagh waiting for me, threatening to nail my ear to the barn door if I’d run off again, and dragging me by my ear so hard I thought he might actually do it.” He does manage a smile this time, one that she mirrors, thinking of his godfather, and all of the layers he hides beneath his surly exterior.

“It went on like that for a few years. We were existing, but no’ really living. My Da kept drinking himself into oblivion, and I kept running amok. I started high school with a criminal record.” He can’t help but look at her face, the need to see her reaction, to know how she feels, is overwhelming. “I had a wee...trespassing habit. I got more than my fair share of warnings, mind ye, but I didna heed them. I had no care for consequences.” Her gaze is assessing, but she doesn’t pull away from him, as he feared she might.

“For my sixteenth birthday, some of my mates...procured me a motorcycle. I didna ask any questions, but I knew that they didn’t come by it through honest means. I felt freer on that bike than I had ever felt in my life, Sassenach. Like none of my problems could keep up with me, if I just kept pushing the throttle. I could go anywhere I wanted, no one could stop me. Or so I thought, anyway,” he shifts in his seat, angling his knees toward her, bringing them face to face.

“I only had the bike about three weeks before I wrecked it. I loved to ride in the rain, even though it was dangerous. Maybe even because it was dangerous. I’d been running some hills, flying over the crests, making a great muddy mess of things. I’d started making my way home, still going way too fast, of course. I could see the lights from the village as I came down the last bend, but instead of banking the turn, I lost control on the loose gravel.” Her hand comes to rest on his knee, and he slides his palm over hers.

“I was thrown off the bike, and sailed quite a ways through the air before I met the dirt. Next thing I remember is waking up in hospital, stuck on my belly, no’ able to feel much of anything. I had only been wearing a t-shirt to ride, and when I was tossed, I landed on my back and slid across the road. I must’ve passed out from the pain, because I still canna recall being found, or the ride to the hospital. I was alone when I woke the first time, and I was sure I was dead. Everything was so white and still, and I couldna make my body move. When the doctor came in to see me, he told me I was lucky,” he shakes his head, able to see the truth in those words now, but at the time he thought the man was mad.

“I couldna possibly understand how anyone could think me lucky. Sure, I wasna dead, but I think part of me then would have welcomed death. My mind hadna been right for a long time, but then for my body to give out too...I think I almost wished for it.” He’s never said these words aloud before. Never let them breach the darkest corners of his thoughts, and it is both cathartic and terrifying to declare his demons.

“The accident was a wakeup call for all of us. When I woke the next morning, my Da was in the chair next to my bed. It was the first time I’d seen him stone sober in three and a half years. He kept telling me was how sorry he was, and that he was going to get better. That he was going to be our father again. I dinna ken how to believe in him anymore, but it did mean a lot that he was there with me. He was the one to call Willie and Jenny to let them know what had happened. Jenny was at the hospital less than an hour later. Willie came back to Scotland for the first time since leaving for school. We didna remember how to be near each other, how to be a family, but I think we all recognized that maybe we’d been given a second chance.” He hasn’t thought about those first few days in so long, the tentative rebuilding of his family something he prefers to leave soundly in the past. It had been unbearably awkward at first— they felt apprehensive around each other, unsure of how and if they still fit together — and Jamie had been in and out of lucidity due to the pain medication.  

“And now? Have you had that second chance?” She asks, the hope in her voice is unmistakable.

“Aye, Mo Nighean Donn, we have. There are more good memories now than bad ones, which is why I’m so keen on taking ye. I think it’ll do ye some good to be away from all your troubles. And now that I’ve shared with ye all of my darkness, I’d like verra much to show you the light. Just like you’ve shown it to me, Sorcha.

Claire lifts their joined hands to her lips, placing a lingering kiss to the back of his hand. “Thank you. Thank you for telling me.” Her grip tightens, and he wiggles his fingers until they interlace with hers.

“Are ye no’ scared of me then? Of my past? I’d understand if ye dinna want to be friends with someone like me.” his whole body sinks, his eyes downcast, the thought of her walking out of his life hitting him like a fist to the gut.  

“Someone like you? James Fraser, please look at me!” she demands, her palm coming to rest on his cheek. “I can’t think of anyone that I like better than you, Jamie. You’re my best friend. Knowing about your past? It’s just another piece of what formed you in to the brilliant man you are today. If you can accept the baggage that I come with…” the hand not resting on his face moves to her belly. “If you can accept me as I am, knowing all you know about my past, then please know I can do the same for you. Readily, happily. And I’m so honored, really, that you chose me of all people, to share your story with. I’ve never felt...never known anyone like you before, Jamie. I’ve never been able to talk to someone the way I’ve talked to you, or related to someone as easily. I didn’t think I was ever going to be happy again, and then all of a sudden, there you were. I never saw you coming, really. But I’m so glad you did.”

He knows that it’s a risk— maybe too big of a risk— but he can’t seem to stop himself. He can’t seem to connect to his thoughts, reeling as they are, as his lips press gently to hers. He’s so overwhelmed with gratitude for her. To have met someone who understands him, who appreciates him just as he is, even knowing the shadows of his past...it’s more than he’s ever hoped for. He eases back a moment later, the contact brief yet poignant. He can see some of the longing he feels mirrored back to him as their eyes meet. Her brows are still raised just slightly, expressing her surprise at his sudden gesture. But he’s happy to note that she also looks more than a little pleased, the corners of her lips turned up in a coy smile.

“I’m glad I did as well, Sassenach.” She slides closer to his side, resting her head on his shoulder. It’s not close enough, so he brings his arm around her shoulders, tucking her head below his chin. They still have about an hour left before they arrive in Inverness, and he’d like nothing more than to spend that hour holding the woman he loves. And as Claire snuggles further into his chest, he thinks that she’ll be amenable to the idea as well.  

[osmw1]

Dimension Wave   Prologue

—Live another life in an alternate universe. Phase II of Project Second Life is live! Now accepting new participants, but hurry—offer ends soon!

“Whaddya think?”

The characters and background art were so realistic, they almost had me fooled. This feature took up seven pages in this gaming magazine, so it’s gotta be quite popular.

“I don’t know what to say…”

Two girls—actually, my older and younger sister—showed up out of nowhere with grins on their faces. They stuck this video game magazine in my face and hounded me over the article. Honestly, I have no clue as to what they’re trying to do. Well, I’d be lying if I said I had no interest in games. But the write-up seems to be about an MMORPG. I’m more of a fan of games like Harvest M○○n and Animal Cr○ssing. I like that comfy, casual pace.

“Ugh, you’re suuuch a bummer!” “I know, right?!” “…”

What’s with them? They’re so hyper. Even if it’s me saying, I think we get along well. We game together since both of my sisters are very into it. Well, it’s probably because of my influence on them, considering that I’m the only guy of us three.

“So? So? Whaddya think?” my younger sister asks me in a cutesy voice.

Her excitement is almost annoying, but since she’s my sister, I hold my tongue and continue reading the magazine pushed up against my face.

Dimension Wave

Looks like it’s an online multiplayer. Skimming through the pages, it looks like players get to work together with allies to fight off enemies. All their weapons, magic, and monsters are pretty typical too. Oh, you can also go fishing. I like stuff like that. It’s nice and relaxing. There are various races to choose from too. Oh? The description seems kinda odd. What’s this?

—Continuing with the well-acclaimed playstyle of the first phase, Phase II of the game will also not allow players to log out until the session has been completed. This further encourages players to fully experience a second life in the game. However, in-game time differs from real-life time. Though each session will require years of in-game time to be completed, it will translate to 24 hours of real-life time. This means that even players who are in full-time employment will be able to enjoy all of the content. We are now accepting new applicants, so don’t hesitate to sign up! Please visit the address below for details.

So it says. Oh, that’s right. I remember now. It was about a year ago when they caused a big stir. It was the guy who planned to create a whole “second life” thing in a VRMMO world.

And as it says in the magazine, months and years in the game will only be just a few hours in the real world. The game targets young professional. For the sake of giving them the chance to live a second life, players also can’t simply logout until the game is done. Content is released monthly to pretty high praise, save for a vocal minority. Or so I’ve read on a gaming news website. Even my buddies were raving about it after trying it out. Is it really that good though?

The problem is that people’s demeanors change after playing. I mean, if you spend seemingly years in the game, it’s bound to affect your personality. There’s even this disgraceful bastard who not only got a girlfriend in the game but is still going out with her IRL.

Fuckin’ normies!

… I should mention that cost of entry is rather high. Not only do you need special equipment, but the game itself costs a lot. After all, the developers and retailers need to make money. In short, it’s not spare change for a student at the very least.

“So? How are you going to pay for it?”

Honestly, even if you begged Mom and Dad for it, they’ll tell you off…

“Heh heh!”

My older sister remains reasonably excited and brings out an envelope. The Second Life Project is written as the sender’s address.

“No, you didn’t…” “I sure did! Here’s the acceptance letter.” “How did you get this? Who did you have to—” “Remember that tournament I won a while ago? This was the prize!”

She spoiled the answer but also my joke. The license was a prize for winning a tournament for this fighting game, which was made by another company of the same conglomerate. I’ve read that they’re making a lot of money lately. My sister definitely signed up the tournament just so she could get her hands on the license. It’s almost weird being related with these girls.

“Three people can sign up with one of these licenses, ya know!”

Here is my older sister who’s grinning from ear to ear and my younger sister who’s almost physically buzzing with excitement.

“Three people? That’s an odd number, eh?”

Isn’t it normally two or four? I’ve heard stories of couples who played together and came out with a stronger bond than ever. But I’ve heard that the game made things worse for some people too. In any case, it looks like I’m invited too. … wait, hold on.

“Hey, why don’t we put these up on an aucti—boof!”

Before I could finish my sentence, my right cheek encountered my younger sister’s fist.

“No way, you dummy!” “No, hear me out. Selling just one of these would give us enough money for a family vaca—boof!”

This time, it was left cheek, older sister.

“I believe I can leave the whole taking care of Mom and Dad thing until after I become a productive member of society.”

They sure are loyal to their desires. Well, it’s not the license is mine anyway, so I don’t really have the right to tell her what do with it.

“So, who’s player three?” “Huh?” they simultaneously interjected. “Hmm?”

The two girls stare at me as if I were speaking alien.

“Don’t you want to play too?” “Uhh, not really?”

It does sound interesting, but I’m iffy about VR games.

“And plus, I get kinda woozy from VR setups.”

VR machines and these fully-immersive online games have been sweeping through the gaming industry. Just before, the sci-fi subgenre of cyberpunk was very popular. Fully-immersive online games made a big splash when they first came out as it was almost as if cyberpunk has become reality. A large portion of gamers were very positive about it too.

Firstly—and I think a lot of Japanese gamers can sympathize—is that a lot of these physically-stimulating virtual reality games rub people the wrong way. For example, like how retro-styled games with pixel art are still really popular, people are used to gaming through a big TV screen. It’s hard to transition away from that concept. Even though I was born into a world where beautiful 3D games were the norm, I’m sure there were people who rejected the transition from pixel art to low-poly graphics.

Well, if that’s the case, I shouldn’t be opposed to these fully-immersive games.

Secondly, the games are very affected by the player’s brainwaves. It’s been recently proven that mental output and processing power vary greatly from person to person. In other words, a person’s ability to judge and reason have been proven, which is why fully-immersive VR games—games that depend on those functions—are heavily dependent on the player’s abilities.

To sum it up, there were gamers who were dissatisfied with the apparent unequal starting lines started cropping up. And excluding the small portion of people who physically and mentally fared well, the sales number weren’t so hot. Well, I guess it’s kinda like when touchscreens first hit the market. Those resistive ones weren’t so good and people didn’t love them. But as technology gets better, so will the performance of VR machines, and I’m sure it’ll then be a big hit.

Hmm, I swear I’ve heard someone tell me this before.

“Y’know, big bro, vat-type VR games have built-in brainwave normalizers so that anybody would be fine, right?” “Oh, is that right? I guess that’s why they’re so expensive then.”

Vat-types could be described as high-performance VR machines. They’re different than regular head-mounted display units hooked up to a computer. Vat-types connect the player by immersing them in a vat full of liquid in which humans can breathe. It’s really something straight out of a mad scientist’s lab. And to speak frankly, the reason why vat-types are invitation-only being because this is tech from the near future—it must cost a whole lot of money to operate.

“Well, I get that even I can play, but don’t you two have anyone else you could invite?” “It’s a ticket for three people! It’d be a lot more fun to go as siblings, don’t you think?” “Yup, she’s right!”

It seems like the three of us are closer than I thought. That makes me rather happy, to be honest. And so, that’s why I’ll be participating in Dimension Wave too.

The day has finally arrived. The three of us go to the venue by train.

Even though my sisters rushed me out of the door, a lot of people had arrived already at the event site. We brought a few things with us, including the license and a USB flash drive that was distributed to all the players. Stored in the flash drive was the data of our created characters. It takes quite a bit of time to customize a character, so they got us to do that ahead of time.

I made my macho mountain of muscles about three days ago. Swole characters aren’t ordinarily popular, but I think they’re cool.

Humans, Lycanthropes, Elves, Jewels, and Spirits were available choices for your character’s race and I chose to make a Spirit. Spirits don’t have levels, HP, or MP, so it makes them pretty special among MMOs. They had a bit of information on their official site, but I had to figure most of that out by myself. Jewels seem interesting too, but I ultimately decided on a Spirit.

I like the unique races.

As for my sisters, the older one picked Human and the younger Lycanthrope. I didn’t ask them, but they told me anyway.

“Oh, looks like they’re starting to let people in.”

Even before I had said that, those two were already restless and had begun heading inside. And why am I at the end of the line anyway? Eventually, I handed one of the three passes to a staff member and got in return a key with a blue plastic number tag attached to it. Then, we were split into two lanes—one for men, one for women.

“See you later.” “See ya!”

I waved them a simple goodbye before heading into the men’s changing room. It’s pretty big in here. I opened the locker with my number on it and found a set of clothes inside. Before the event, we were told to send in our measurements along with our authorization codes so that they can get it tailored to us.

I put my valuables inside, though that consists of only my phone and wallet, and put on the special clothes. It looks like a plugsuit straight out of an anime or something. It’s really elastic. The guys beside me are being awkwardly silent changing into their suits. But even without saying, I can tell they’re thinking of the same thing. I think they used to submerge you in the nude, but after some criticism, they came out with these tailored plugsuits. They even contain emergency life-saving measures. That’s probably one of the reasons why it’s so expensive as well. After changing, I double-checked to make sure my locker was locked and then hurried out the door.

“Whoa…”

The vats lined up row by row was really a spectacle seemingly taken out of a mad scientist’s lab. They’re actually pretty big, even though it’s just for one person. It’s as big as my bed at home.

“Let’s see, let’s see.”

There’s a large sticker placed instructing which way to stick the USB flash drive in and how to shut the door. It’s so simple, anyone can get it right with a quick glance. I plug in my flash drive into the port, hopped in the vat, made sure the door was closed, then slowly lied down. There’s still 10 minutes left until it starts. I take the time to think through what I’ll do in the game.

The two of them mentioned that they were picking a combat class, but I had other plans. I’d think I’d like to try the fishing activity that was in the magazine the other day. I know it might be a bit weird to just fish in an MMORPG, but the whole point of this game is to live a second life, right? I’ll live it leisurely. I haven’t thought much about what’s after though. I’m sure I’ll find a goal while I play. Just as I was thinking about that, I suddenly remember that they had an event called Dimension Wave going on, just like the title. I totally forgot about it up until now. I still have to decide on whether or not to participate, but I’m sure my sisters will. I’d like to at least play support for them.

“Oh?”

Time snuck up on me while I was lost in thought. An announcement played as they started to pump the liquid in. It’s green, I thought… but it was just the reflection of a light inside the vat. On second inspection, it’s actually colorless. The vat filled up in a flash. I’ve subconsciously held my breath, but I can naturally breathe in the liquid. What a shock. I really can breathe. Honestly, I wasn’t actually sure until now.

—Reading data 0%・・・100%. —Data import complete. Beginning brainwave normalizer load test.

I can see it. Rather, it’s being projected straight into my brain. A scene prettier than reality appears before my eyes. Lots of people are walking in the streets of this fantasy town. The sound is coming through too. I hear everything from the male voice of the shopkeeper to the noise of shuffling feet and footsteps. In normal VR systems, you get the tiniest hint of lag, even if it’s not much. But in here, not only is it running without so much a hitch, the fidelity is extremely high. That’s specialized equipment for ya.

—Test complete. Game will begin after all processes complete.

It’s a weird feeling. The voice goes directly into your head without me needing to use my ears. I was thinking that I’ve totally entered a sci-fi world, but tech in the real world is more advanced than I thought. I guess you could call it being excited, but oddly, I couldn’t calm down and stop looking around everywhere. But right as I do so, everything disappeared.

“That can’t be good.”

I’m not just talking about vat-type machines, but when any piece of electronic suddenly goes black like if you yanked the plug out, it kinda makes me feel weird. It’s like as if the world that I’ve been living it just suddenly disappeared.

And then—

—Best wishes to your new life!

previously: /ch000/ /next/

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