#I’ve never heard a single stern word from those parents to their kid which is just… in hindsight I can’t believe

[alsaurus-loves-dean]

.

[theinvisibledreamergirl]

#60 #72

angst/fluff prompts:

#60. You look like you could use a hug.

#72. You need sleep.

A.N: I’ve ran out of ideas so sorry if you don’t like it😔 I know this was a long time ago that you’ve requested it and I’m sorry that you’re not here anymore as you’ve deactivated dear Nadeen❤️

Warning: mentions of a character’s death and this prompt wasn’t prepared to be this long so sorry.

———————————————————————

Thunderstorms weren’t stopping.

They wouldn’t stop.

She was clutching her blankets forcefully, trying to avoid looking at the windows.

It had been two sleepless nights since the autumn started and she hated every single day of it. She didn’t have any problems with raining as she used to live in London but thunderstorms were something else.

It reminded her nights when she would leave her room to join her grandmother’s knocking softly on the door and hugging her like she was her life saviour. Daisy knew the habit of her granddaughter and unknown to the latter, she was always awake waiting for her every night when thunderstorms showed up. Even though they were far away from her house, little Klaw was skeptic for everything especially when she would hear on the news that many people just walking in a beautiful day were killed by a lightning while the others were witnessing the event, were left with traumatic memories. Or how many trees and houses were destroyed by natural disasters and she was imagining exactly for her country of Washington.

“My star, you know that they won’t come here.”

“I know granny but...”

“But?”

“What if I walk one day and I get hit by a light?”

The old woman laughed heartedly, knowing fully well that she had seen again those horrible news on BBC. This kid was really something else.

“Where for the love of god have you heard it?”

“Uhmmm... BBC?”

“You should stop seeing news. Do you know you’re only eight? Your friends see animated movies.”

“Which friends? I don’t have friends.”

It stung to Daisy to hear an eight year old child to say that she didn’t have friends. Klaw had difficulties to fit into different groups of friends despite her insistence that it was for her best. She pursed her lips in determination, to change her mind.

“You have my star. Kate, Lisa, Jessie-“

“They’re not my true friends granny... you are my true friend.”

In the darkness of the room (which she thanked) tears were gathering in the corners of her eyes as if the kid’s life depended on her. Klaw was truly a special one, that her parents should be really proud of her and luckily she didn’t see how emotional her granny was getting from her words.

“Oh, may I know why am I your true friend?”

“Uhmm... because... because you don’t lie and they lie. Uhmm... mom and dad lie too. They always lie.”

“Don’t say that my darling,” she cupped her cheeks in full adoration. “Your parents love you so much. They wouldn’t do that.”

“But they did,” Klaw frowned. “They lied to me about coming here in America.”

Apparently she had heard one of the many fights between Patrick and Marilyn about Elizabeth Craig and how she accused Marilyn for something she didn’t. Daisy had a huge respect for Elizabeth but with what happened two years ago, she would never forgive her and how she and the other people of the family treated her daughter with her son-in-law and their child.

“I think that’s enough discussion for the night,”when the younger one tried protest, the older gave her a stern look and she shut her mouth. “Now, who’s going to give to this old woman the best hugs huh?”

“Meeee!” Klaw beamed and crushed her true friend in a hug that felt as an angel’s wings.

“Ah that’s my girl.” Feeling her steady breathing, Daisy reached for the blankets to keep her warm enough.

“Good night my star.”

“G’night gran...”

Daisy gulped hardly while stroking her granddaughter’s back to calm her down from her shivers whenever the thunders echoed in the walls of their house. She was worrying about the child’s future when her death day would come. Because everyone leaves, right? She didn’t know what was planned for this kid that was holding in her arms but she promised one thing.

“I will always be your shield... Anytime and anywhere. And if I leave... you’re going to find a stronger shield than mine. I just know it.” She whispered before kissing the crown of her head, watching how fast the little girl drifted to sleep with her cute snores she let out. Children should be raised with love so they can show love and affection towards other people. But when you are part of a family that money and work comes before mental health... they will grow up alone. Daisy knew exactly how Klaw’s life would be- miserable and difficult as hell. But hopes were something she held onto and one day this eight year old girl would be an adolescent, a university student, an independent grown woman that fate will meet her with the best partner of the world and then getting married. And that would take a long time... certainly a very long time and Daisy Ahmad was praying to God to see those days.

Sensing that something was slipping from his body, he tilted his head to see her covered with his blankets and trembling beneath them. He tried to reach carefully but when another thunder was heard she gasped in fear and clutched even with more force, covering her head as if to protect herself. But a gentle hand pulled that away.

“Klaw... shhh it’s okay, it was a thunder.” He stroked her arm up and down.

“No, it’s not okay,” she shook her head frantically while keeping her eyes closed. “It’s a thunderstorm and I don’t want to see it so please give me back the blanket.”

“Klaw, open your eyes.” Another shake. “Klaw... don’t make me do this.”

She opened her eyes slowly only to see Ethan caging her with his arms and looking intensely with his icy blues that as always... made her weak.

“It’s alright, you don’t have to be afraid. Thunders are outside.” He assured her.

“But what if a lighting bolt comes through the glass window and bang! we’re dead?”

He chuckled. “Where have you heard it for god’s sakes?”

“I haven’t heard it anywhere!” She protested. “I know it!”

Ethan narrowed his eyes in disbelief because he knew that she wasn’t telling what she wanted. His girlfriend was such selfless that she wouldn’t ask for help or for a favour even for the little things. And he knew exactly what to do.

“Now if you’ll excuse me give me ba-” her ramble was silenced with a slow and a sweet kiss that only he was able to do it. Another thunder was heard but unexpectedly she didn’t feel shivers or trembling- she felt calm for the first time. When they parted her eyes roamed his face and giggled knowingly. “I’m really exaggerating this, aren’t I?”

“No you’re not,” he touched her cheek with the back of his hand. “I just don’t want you to feel uncomfortable with me.” He kissed her cheek. “I want you to open up and not bottle everything inside of yourself.” Another kiss in the forehead. “I don’t want you to lock your feelings in your heart. Because what I truly want for you is... to not be afraid to show me your fears.” Then he pressed their foreheads together while moving their noses.

Klaw knew she could rely on Ethan for anything. He opened up to her for his family problems and the abandonment issues thanks to his mother whereas she did the contrary and for that she felt guilty. But maybe one day she would open up and take the courage to talk to him.

“I know,” she raked his hair with her fingers. “I’m sorry that I woke you up. I know you need sleep after a long day at work.”

“I can’t sleep when you’re not okay and for that,” he changed his position from the right side to the left one so she wouldn’t face the window but made her confused. “Hm...” he propped himself on his elbow while crooking his eyes with a smile. “You look like you could use a hug.”

She felt her eyes welling at this ironic parallelism that was happening right now and tears streamed down her cheeks while whispering. “Please-”

He didn’t need another word to pull her immediately on his chest while listening to her sobs... of longing and mourning for a decade now.

“She... she used t-to hug me like this.” Ethan held her closer and firmly while she continued despite her cracked voice. “She was so warm... a-and safe. But when I felt he-her cold skin...” she let out another strong sob. “I was wondering who will hug me like she did? Will I ever feel that warmth and that strength ever again?”

Even though he didn’t know what was the grief of a family member, her vulnerability was also his as he felt his eyes tearing up too, not knowing how to convince her or to say sweet things about something you can’t take it back. So instead he let her speak... to open up.

“But you know what?” Klaw lifted her head while sniffing to face him in the same level. Ethan didn’t like her seeing with red eyes and puffed cheeks from crying and neither did she wanted to see him in that state because of her. “I think I have found it... and that’s you.” To prove it she kissed him, lingering her lips to his, not wanting to break this magical spell.

“And I’m glad that I’m the lucky one my Rookie. C’mere.”

Just like that they both held close each other until sleep overtook Ethan and not long after that Klaw joined too.

Unknown to her grandmother, Klaw had heard that Daisy was her shield.

The shield she was proud of.

But as Daisy mentioned, one day she would meet another but much stronger shield that would be unbroken.

I found it granny.

She smiled contently.

It’s Ethan Ramsey’s shield so you don’t have to worry about me anymore.

[aellynera]

Calavera (Santiago Garcia x Reader)

(ok, so, it’s been a while since i posted my writing. it’s not that i haven’t been writing, but i’ve started like eight things and nothing felt completely right. so, yeah. then tonight, boom.)

CALAVERA (Santiago Garcia x Reader)

Word Count: 2120(ish)

Summary: It’s a day of celebration, in more ways than one.

Warnings: A naughty innuendo but nothing else, not even a language warning, I’m not sure what got into me. It’s all fluffy.

“Baby, hold still,” Santiago commanded, his hand lightly slapping your knee to emphasize his point.

“Sorry,” you muttered. You straightened your back, let out a deep breath, and tried to comply.

Your eyes were closed so all you saw was dancing blackness. The wet, pasty feeling on your face almost made you jump but you held your reaction down as best you could and hoped Santiago didn’t notice.

He had asked to paint you. Your first response, with a laugh, had been, “Like one of your French girls?” and Santiago swore if you ever made a joke like that again, he wouldn’t be painting you with paint. Then you had asked, completely (not) innocently, what the problem with that was and how exactly was that even a threat, which led to a half-hour delay in the original mission and another half-hour of showering and grabbing some clean clothes.

None of which you were sorry for, by the way. Not at all.

So, then Santiago asked if he could paint you for real. Your face, specifically, as a calavera. A sugar skull. Today was November 1, and for him it held special significance. It was Day of the Dead, Día de Muertos. And although Santiago was neither Mexican nor particularly Catholic, at least not in a practicing sense any more, he could hardly deny the day was especially significant for him, both in his past and, possibly, more meaningful now in his adulthood.

In his past, because of the memories associated with his parents’ celebrating every year. The altars and the food and all the magical colors that flowed through the air. And the skeletons. As a kid, those were always cool.

In his present, to remember all the family and friends and comrades he had lost. Those he had loved and cherished and would never be forgotten.

You were also neither Mexican nor particularly religious, especially not Catholic, but you could appreciate the meaning behind the holiday and were happy to celebrate with him.

So when Santiago asked, a second time, if he could paint your face, you immediately said yes.

Which is now how you found yourself in your home office, the one you shared with your boyfriend, with every single light in the room flipped on - we need proper lighting conditions, Santiago had insisted. You were perched in a swivel chair, your eyes closed and your boyfriend, perched in his own chair across from you, humming a merry tune and occasionally singing a lyric in Spanish as he did, in fact, paint your face with actual paint this time.

Quite a few minutes had passed since he brought a brush laden with wet goop to your face. “Santi? What are you doing, can I please open my eyes?” you asked, anxious to find out exactly what he was doing.

“Mmm, not yet, cariño,” Santiago replied. You felt a brush land on your nose, the tickle immediately taking hold of your senses as he began to paint again. “Keep ‘em closed until I say so.”

“Santiiiiii,” you whined, annoyed with both the feeling and his sentiment. A centipede crawling across your toes would be more welcome than the intense prickling under the bristles of his paintbrush.

You heard the amusement in his voice as he repeated, “Baby. Just sit still.”

‘Fine,” a huff escaped your lips. “I just don’t...why is there like an hour between what you paint on me, it’s not like we have mirrors in here so I don’t understand why I can’t open my eyes, and what the hell are you doing when you’re not doing things to my face?”

His brush continued its work as he considered your questions and answered them in turn. “Well, one, it’s not an hour, it’s like 10 minutes so I can let the paint dry before working on the next part. Two, because if you keep your eyes closed, your face stays in the same position and it makes this a lot easier and the end result much better.”

You made a small grunt of reluctant understanding at that.

“And three, I actually do have a small mirror in here, so I can work on my face while the paint on yours sets.”

“Wait. You’ve been painting your own face this whole time?”

“Of course I have,” Santiago replied with a genuine laugh. “It’s an important day. I’m not gonna paint yours and not have one to match.”

“I don’t even get how you can paint your own face, and why have we never done this before?”

“I’ve been doing this for years, honey. Well, I mean, I haven’t actually done it for a while, but it seemed like a good time to start again. Painting my own face isn’t that hard since I’ve done it so much, and I have done my own camo before.”

“I imagine this is a little different than camo.”

“Different, yes, but not necessarily easier. Just different. Now will you please stop talking and stay still, I need to work on your lips and cheeks,” Santiago said sternly.

Your breath snaked out of your lungs and you used every ounce of self-control to stop moving, but before you let your body go lax and still, you asked quickly, “Can you tell me the meaning behind the calavera again? I know I’ve heard it before, but...can you just keep talking? If I focus on your voice, it’ll help me stop squirming.”

“That’s not what happened earlier,” Santiago smirked.

“Santi,” you giggled, then tried to act as stern as he had been a few moments ago. “You’re not helping.”

“Sorry, mi amor,” he replied quietly, the brush now painting lines on your lips. He continued in a warm, slow voice that nearly put you under, but you fought off the insistent call of sleep.

“Okay, so Día de Muertos is when we remember and pray for family and friends who have passed on. The calaveras, or sugar skulls, represent those people. The large one are for adults, and the small ones are for children. They can be decorative, or edible, or artistic like the ones I’m painting on our faces. It’s a huge holiday in Mexico, and my family always celebrated it since we were Catholic, and I’ve always just really liked the artistry in the face-painting so I learned how to do it. Now let that dry and then I’ll do the rest of the design.”

You sighed and sat back. You heard him humming to himself again, presumably as he worked on his own face, and waited.

A warm vestige of sleep did take you under this time, and when you felt wet paint hit your forehead, you nearly went through the ceiling, almost springing out of your chair. You probably would have made an actual hole above you, but Santiago’s strong hands pressed you to the leather beneath you.

You briefly considered that hole wouldn’t have been a total loss. You wanted to put a ceiling fan in that room anyway. You tried your best to clear your sleepy cobwebs without actually shaking your head.

“Baby,” he chided.

“I know, I know, stay still,” you muttered, returning to upright.

Santiago shook his head, even though you couldn’t see him. “You’re lucky I love you.”

“You’re lucky I love you,” your voice remained a mutter.

“You know,” he replied, “I could paint, like, all of you. That would be really sexy.”

This time, you chose not to verbally respond and you kicked his foot instead.

“Ow,” he grumbled. “Party pooper.”

“Just finish the job, Santiago.”

“Yes ma’am.”

He worked in silence for a few minutes more, adding...dots?...around your eyes - as far as you could tell with them still closed - and what felt like teardrop shapes on your forehead, and swirly shapes on your cheeks. 

Santiago finally made a noise, humming in satisfaction. “Okay, baby, you’re done. Now, just hang out like that for a few more minutes while I finish mine, yeah?”

“No,” you whined under your breath, making Santiago laugh. You laughed with him. He knew for all the trouble of making you sit still for so long, you were kidding, and he was grateful for it.

As you pushed your chair back slightly, you turned slow circles. You may still have to sit there, but at least you could do something other than just sit there now.

Mostly, you really wondered what Santiago was up to. You could hear him get out of his chair. You could hear vague rustling out in the living room, and then in your bedroom. You felt the change in air current when he came back into the office and hear several soft *fwick* sounds. You could hear his once-again humming voice, and noticed that his song had changed to…

That song. Your song. The song that was playing the first time you both said I love you.

“You can open your eyes now, mi amor,” Santiago called, a gentle whisper.

Gentle, flickering candlelight met your gaze first, the small mirror and your reflection in front of you second.

White paint was the backdrop on your face, with your eyes, nose, and lower cheeks blacked out, and black lines representing teeth painted over your lips. Purple dots ringed your eyes. A red flower and blue teardrop shapes graced your forehead, and various swirl patterns came down from your forehead and lined your cheeks. A red heart sat on your chin.

You had no idea your boyfriend was this creative and this talented. Another of Santiago Garcia’s hidden gifts.

“Santi, I lov---” you started, but then you noticed the third thing.

Santiago’s face.

Hovering directly above the small mirror, Santiago’s face looked mostly the same as yours. Same colors, minus the flower, more teardrops, and the dots surrounding his eyes were green, but otherwise, the same patterns. Except for the words.

Except for the words.

Above his right eyebrow, will.

Above his left eyebrow, you.

On his right cheek, marry.

On his left cheek, me.

You were pretty sure your eyes would pop out of your now-sugar-skull if they got any wider. Your lips parted but nothing came out.

Santiago lowered the mirror, tossing it onto the nearby desk. He sat back down on his office chair and took both of your hands in his. An eyebrow cocked and the corner of his mouth curled up before he pulled his bottom lip nervously with his teeth.

After a good minute, your brain reactivated. “Santi,” you started, “not that I have to think about my answer, but I do have my own question.”

“Okay?” his voice was still soft, and you could hear the slight waver in it. He really was nervous.

“Something tells me that’s not traditional Día de Muertos calavera design, so…?” you trailed off, cocking an eyebrow back at him.

He nodded. “You would be correct,” he smiled fully now, “but one of the really old meanings behind calaveras was rebirth into the next stage of life. And that’s what I felt when I met you and got to know you. I got to leave all the bad things I did in my past behind and spend all the good times in the present with you. And I want to spend them with you in the future, forever. You’re my rebirth, my next stage, my forever. So...what do you say?”

You didn’t stop the springing out of your chair this time. You pounced into Santiago’s lap, nearly knocking you both off his chair as you cupped the sides of his face. Part of your brain hazily registered that you were smearing his face paint, and your own with your tears running down your cheeks, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

Not even a little bit, not about that.

“Yes!” you cried. “Of course I’ll marry you.”

Santiago responded by pulling your closer and pressing his lips to yours, over and over, while his hands held your face.

After a few minutes, you both separated for air, and you couldn’t help the small groan that left your mouth.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Santiago whispered, pressing his forehead to yours.

You motioned between the two of you, and grabbed the mirror so he could see what you were talking about. The beautiful paint job he had done was now completely destroyed, colors mixing and smearing, like an artist’s palette that had been dropped on the floor and then stepped on.

Or a clown with very dubious make-up application skills.

“The paint. You’re going to have to redo all this paint.”

Santiago laughed. You were right. The initial beauty was gone, but something even more magnificent had taken its place.

“Worth it.”

~end~

Tagging: @anetteaneta @darksideofclarke @girlwiththemostcake @deeandbobbymcgee @itspdameronthings @rosemarysbaby13 @writefightandflightclub @spider-starry @yourbucky084 @iamthe-shadow-on-the-wall @veuliee2 (tag list always open - inbox me or comment if you’d like to be tagged)

[cotncandyboifics]

1989 [High School AU]: Chapter 1

AO3 Link

Masterpost

Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5 ~ Chapter 6 ~ Chapter 7 ~ Chapter 8 ~ Chapter 9 ~

Pairings: slight Logince, eventual Prinxiety & Logicality

Word count: 1,780

Story summary: Roman Prince is your stereotypical Jock, with everyone swooning after him. Every day a crowd of people follow him around, only to disperse at his personal whim. In reality, he's lucky to have such good acting skills that help him cover up the disdain he has for his life. He only wishes he could use his skills properly.

Patton Whitelock's always there to lend a helping hand, no matter who you are. If you need a favor or just need someone to talk to, go to him. In reality, he's been taught from a young age that kindness should be held above all else. No one suspects that he took it the wrong way.

Logan Montgomery is the smartest boy in the Senior class. He's stern, and most people are too intimidated to speak to him. In reality, he despises most all of his fellow students. He sticks to his studies and doesn't stray, for fear of being stuck in his father's shadow his whole life.

Virgil Black is the most emo kid in school, let alone 12th grade; everyone knows to leave him be. In reality, he's very fortunate. He has two parents who love him dearly. But everything beyond his life, everything within his mind, is utter chaos and turmoil.

what will happen when they're assigned a biology project together?

General CW: food, swearing, implied s-lf h-rm, non-graphic descriptions of s-lf h-rm scars, graphic and non-graphic descriptions of anxiety attacks and panic attacks, drug abuse, minor character intoxicated on heroin, non-graphic drug overdose description, sickness/description of sickness, blood, non-graphic descriptions of needles, (will be added to as I write more)

Chapter CW: <none> (let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author notes: hook chapter go brr

...

Nice to meet you, where you been?

I can show you incredible things

Magic, madness, heaven, sin

Saw you there, and I thought

"Oh my god, look at that face

You look like my next mistake"

Love's a game, wanna play?

Roman checked his watch discreetly as he walked down the hall toward his first class. 7:58. He was almost late, but not quite. As he walked in, earning a glare from Mr. Berry and a few students, he glanced at the whiteboard. It read: "Tuesday, September 3 / Classwork: OT essay workday / Homework: OT Analysis and Essay due FRIDAY". The word "Friday" was written sloppily large and underlined. Roman just kept his sleepy poker face and walked to his desk, in the second-to-last row in the middle. He'd not noticed the shrunken figure at the desk next to him, whom everyone knew but no one liked. Virgil Black.

New money, suit and tie

I can read you like a magazine

Ain't it funny, rumors fly

And I know you've heard about me

So hey, let's be friends

I'm dying to see, how this one ends

Grab your passport, and my hand

I can make the bad guys good for a weekend.

Virgil shoved his hands in his hoodie pockets as he glared in Roman's general direction from behind bright purple bangs. His scowl deepened as Roman pulled out his notebook but didn't take his single earbud out, proceeding to doodle on the margins of his notebook.

Roman propped his head up on his right palm, tilting his head carelessly as he drew stars around a stick man's head. By this time, the plump red-faced man known as Mr. Berry, teacher of English 12, had taken his respected place at the front of the class for a quick lecture before they began classwork.

So it's gonna be forever,

Or it's gonna go down in flames

You can tell me when it's over,

If the high was worth the pain

Got a long list of ex-lovers,

They'll tell you I'm insane

'Cus you know I love the players,

And you love the game

"Good morning students," He said in a blubbering gritty voice, the sagging skin below his chin bouncing comically as he did so. "I trust you completed reading the rest of the book. Now, as I'm sure you've noticed, the Analysis and quotes along with your essay's final draft are due - both printed - on Friday. If you turn it in on Monday, it'll drop two letter grades, and any time after that is a zero. I should hope this first assignment will get you in the punctual mindset for my class." The large man was walking about the room, between desks checking for cheating or kids working ahead. He was strict, and didn't tolerate out-of-line behavior. As he completed his sentence, his eyes fell on Roman, who was still slouched apathetically, doodling, earbud in. The students watching Mr. Berry saw his face somehow achieve a deeper hue of red and his eyes bulge, as a bull does when it spots it's target. Roman however, didn't notice; a pale-faced Virgil tried to get his attention without the teacher noticing.

'Cus we're young and we're reckless,

We'll take this way too far

It'll leave you breathless,

Or with a nasty scar

Got a long list of ex-lovers,

They'll tell you I'm insane

But I've got a blank space baby...

And I'll write your name.

"Psst. Roman." he hissed in vain. Roman's earbud was in his right ear, the same side Virgil was sitting on, so quiet noises from that direction were inaudible to him. Despite the class's uneasiness as Mr. Berry made his way to Roman's seat, and though Roman was fully aware of the fat fuming man advancing on him, he made no change in expression or focus; merely, filled in the dark half of the yin yang he had sketched next to his name as he lightly mouthed the words of the song.

Mr. Berry stopped right in front of Roman's desk, looking down at him furiously. When Roman ignored him, he took further action. Just as Roman had completed the yin yang, a fat red hand came down loudly on his desk and a sudden "MR. PRINCE!!" Erupted from the old man's gullet.

Cherry lips, crystal skies

I can show you incredible things

Stolen kisses, pretty lies

You're the king baby I'm your queen

Find out what you want,

Be that girl for a month

Wait, the worst is yet to come... oh no.

Roman looked up at him slowly, but no trace of fear could be found on his face. Even, a slight smirk hinting at the corners of his mouth. But, not enough for the old man to notice.

"What sort of media is emitting from those... earphones?" Mr. Berry said, bug-eyed.

Roman held up the earbud that wasn't in his ear, looking at it. "You mean these?" He said.

Mr. Berry simply sighed and rolled his eyes frustratedly. "Yes, 'in those', Mr. Prince. You'd better have an adequate response."

Screaming, crying, perfect storms

I can make all the tables turn

Rose garden filled with thorns

Keep you second guessing, like

"Oh my god, who is she?"

I get drunk on jealousy

But you'll come back each time you leave

'Cus darling I'm a nightmare dressed like a daydream.

Roman held the old man's gaze, as if searching for something within his grey-brown orbs. After a moment, he sighed quietly and said, "Taylor Swift."

His response earned a few snickers from other students, to which Mr. Berry scanned the room to see if he could bust two students in one go.

Most of the students thought he looked like Napoleon from the 1954 animated movie based on Animal Farm, a fair comparison. His balding head and fat body gave him an appearance that was quite comparable to a pig.

After a moment of glaring at a few of the known renegades of the class, he returned his focus to Roman. But, this time, he didn't appear as angry; rather, he was smiling gently, but his eyes still held an angry glow. "Since you see no point in listening to my lecture, I'm sure you wouldn't mind showing the class a sufficient outline for your first draft essay? Along with the requirements, of course," the senile man's smirk curled up into a grin as he spoke, tilting his head a bit. Roman merely smirked himself, and stood.

So it's gonna be forever,

Or it's gonna go down in flames

You can tell me when it's over,

If the high was worth the pain

Got a long list of ex-lovers,

They'll tell you I'm insane

'Cus you know I love the players,

And you love the game

Mr. Berry watched in moderate surprise as Roman walked swiftly past the rows of desks to the whiteboard, uncapped an expo marker, and began writing in neatly printed lettering. "Ok, so the final draft is due on Friday," He began, "So you should have your first draft completed by tonight. The essay must have at least five body paragraphs, a minimum of two quotes each-" Virgil watched, shocked, gripping his pencil so that his knuckles paled. "So I hope you've picked out your quotes already. The thesis needs to answer the prompt, obviously. Conclusion should be at least five sentences. So overall, about two or three pages. I'd recommend using this class time to create an outline in your notebook, and typing up a first draft. Have your second draft done tomorrow, and final details on Thursday. And because Mr. Berry is too... behind the times to use Google Classroom, you'll need to print it out and hand it in physically. I'm sure Mr. Berry isn't partial to the trees we're killing, so if you're in Environmental club, I'd not bother complaining." And with this final sentence, Roman touched up his writing on the board and walked back to his seat, never taking out his earbud.

'Cus we're young and we're reckless,

We'll take this way too far

It'll leave you breathless,

Or with a nasty scar

Got a long list of ex-lovers,

They'll tell you I'm insane

But I got a blank space baby...

And I'll write your name.

Mr. Berry was still standing over Roman's desk, now staring down at him with large eyes. He opened his mouth slightly to say something, but was interrupted by another student asking a question. From then on, Mr. Berry ignored Roman, which was an easy feat, as Roman did the same.

After a little over half an hour, the bell rang, and Roman slung his backpack over his shoulder and walked out. Mr. Berry considered asking him why he'd only doodled for the entirety of the class period and not worked on his essay, but his pride got the best of him, and he watched as the young man walked out of the room confidently.

Virgil had slipped out before Roman, and was now pretending to exchange things in his locker, which was unfortunately right next to Roman's. The tall jock walked up to his own locker, earning a scowl from the darker boy.

"What? Enjoy the show I put on in Mr. Diabetes' class?" Roman said, leaning against the lockers as Virgil shut his own. The dark boy just grunted and walked off, feeling Roman's eyes watching as he turned a corner. Roman smirked for the hundredth time that morning when he was gone and turned to open his own locker. When a few girls from the cheer team started to linger, flipping their hair and puffing out their chests, and Roman actively ignored them until he walked past close enough that a few of them let out squeals. He heard the usual murmurs from behind him, "he's so hot," and "I'd kill to be his date to Homecoming." He smirked to himself again, making his way to his Physics class.

...

Virgil spotted is best friend Patton in his usual seat as he walked into his second period Economics class. The boy smiled at Virgil up on seeing him, and waved happily.

"Hello Virgil!! how are you feeling this morning?" He said cheerily as Virgil took the seat next to him, sliding his backpack under the desk.

"Alright I guess." He thought about telling Patton about Roman, but thought better of it; Patton had enough on his plate to worry about as it was.

As for Patton, he had already taken to pulling out his notebook, preparing for a long class of note-taking. Economics was one of the most note-heavy classes either of the boys had, and usually required all their focus. As the teacher stood from his desk and turned on his projector, Virgil could've sworn he saw Patton staring at someone, but as soon as he looked, Patton focused on the teacher, readying his pencil. But, Virgil being the parano- vigilant person he was, followed what he thought was Patton's line of sight to... Logan Montgomery? What? Upon realizing who he had thought Patton was looking at, he brushed it off. There's no way Patton would be looking at him. is there?

[keanureevesisbae]

The alluring charm of Henry Cavill - Chapter 3

Summary: During a trivia game, Adelaide impresses people with her knowledge.

Henry Cavill x Adelaide Park (ofc)

Wordcount: 3.5k

Warnings: None

A/N: For the people who have send in character asks and I haven’t answered it yet: I’m working on it 🤗 Because of school, I haven’t gotten to it yet. But somewhere this week I’ll answer them. Also: I love the responses to this fic. I want to let you know that these comments make my day 💕 Also, did I use the twitter accounts from the characters of my other fics for the tweets at the end? Yes, I did.

Masterlist // Previous chapter // Next chapter

Why am I in bed?

I look around and see that I’m in the middle of the bed that Henry and I share back on the show, but the improvised wall between us is gone.

Back when I was growing up, we had one bedroom and one bed, where we had to squeeze in if we happened to be all home. That rarely happened. It was usually just me, or later on my dad joined, when he got back from work. On mom’s days off, she’d be in bed all day, resting from all those hard days at work. Sharing beds isn’t something that I really mind, even if the person I’m sharing with, is Henry Cavill.

‘You’re awake,’ I hear Henry’s deep voice and I look to my left, to see him standing up from a chair. He sits on the edge of the mattress, sinking into the soft material. ‘How are you?’

‘I don’t know,’ I mumble, pushing myself up straight. I’m not in the muddy clothes anymore and I look at Henry again, slightly worried and ashamed. Did he undress me?

‘Don’t worry,’ he calmly says, ‘Jennifer went with us. She changed you.’

I clear my throat, as I start fidgeting my hands, one of the many nervous ticks I have. ‘I’m sorry.’

‘Why?’ Henry asks.

‘We were leading and then…’ I sigh deeply, trying not to think about what happened to me. I never learned how to swim, but I always avoided waters like the plague. During my acting career, I only had to swim once, but I was with David Castañeda, who played my love interest. I let him know that I was scared of water. He promised me he wouldn’t let go and the director actually loved the twist we gave to that swimming pool scene.

However, David knew I was scared of water, but didn’t know I couldn’t swim. Now I told Henry and in a matter of days, the rest of the world will know too, when this episode will air.

Henry doesn’t say anything. I bet he is mad, I think to myself. Fuck, I really let him down, didn’t I?

‘I’m sorry,’ I say, ‘that I let you down.’

His gaze softens. ‘You didn’t,’ he tells me. ‘I shouldn’t have pushed. I should’ve calmed you down. It was obvious that it really scared you.’ Henry sighs deeply. ‘But Adelaide… Why can’t you swim?’ he asks.

I could tell him. The whole world will know I can’t swim in the near future, why not tell them the entire story? ‘We didn’t have the money back when I was younger to go for swimming lessons,’ I say. ‘And I haven’t had the chance to do it now.’

Henry nods. ‘There is a pool in the backyard,’ he says, a telling smile toying on his face. ‘How about, over the course of these two weeks, you and I try it. It’s not deep and I’m there with you every second.’

‘Why?’

He shrugs, as if he is a little embarrassed that he offered, but he shouldn’t be. It’s just that I’m surprised, because the last time someone offered something like that to me… That was so long ago. I think it was when I still lived at home. I always do everything myself and people on set know that I tend to be very independent, so they don’t try. But Henry doesn’t ask or offer, he just does it. In the days that I’ve come to know him, he has been nothing but a gentleman. He made me breakfast and when we were cooking dinner, the oil was splashing over the pan. Before I could step aside, Henry grabbed another pan to shield me from the hot oil. The way he lifted me up during the obstacle course when I couldn’t reach the bars and how he caught me when I fell.

‘Well,’ he says, ‘because I think everyone should know how to swim.’

I smile and say: ‘Well, let’s consider it,’ I say. ‘We finished last, didn’t we?’

‘Yeah, we did,’ he says. ‘But don’t apologize for it, please. I don’t want you to feel bad about it. We were really great during this first challenge, so we’ll climb our way back to the top.’ Henry sends me a dashing smile and I can’t help but blush a little bit. ‘How about you get ready for tonight, then I’ll go and make you something to eat.’

‘Ready for tonight?’

‘Trivia night,’ he says.

I nod. I can’t seem to tear my eyes from him, as I look into his soft eyes. When I first met him, I thought he had that stern look in his face and I still did think that from time to time, but in those days that we spend together, it never looked like this. ‘Right, I’ll get myself ready.’

After a fifteen minute shower, I get dressed in a jeans skirt, with a simple black shirt that I tugged in. I paired it with the same white sneakers I wore the first day. I keep my hair and make-up pretty simple.

Henry made some sandwiches. I never knew that I thought it was attractive that a man could cook, but I sure do know now. Come to think of this, I never really thought about what I wanted for traits in a man.

My parents were happy with one another, but I feared that one day, I ended up like them. Poor, overworked, with two kids and a husband, who maybe felt—just like my dad—that he had to take care of us. Besides, I never experienced love. I never fallen in love, I only had on stage kisses and sex scenes. It was never real.

Maybe I’m way ahead of myself, but I feel something. I feel cared for. I feel noticed. I feel appreciated. Like I’m worth it. And that’s all thanks to Henry Cavill.

◎ ◎ ◎

Everyone seems concerned about me, but after I reassure everyone I am okay, we take place at three different tables, one for each duo. I take a seat on the chair. It’s a little colder than I imagined and I curse myself for not bring a jacket with me. I rub my upper arms as the crew is setting everything up, checking if our mics are working well enough, making sure the screen works.

Henry stands up as he wiggles out of his cosy vest, before placing it without a word on my shoulders.

‘Oh, that’s not necess— uh… needed,’ I say to him.

‘I’m not cold,’ he tells me, as he sits down next to me again. I want to stop my smile, but I can’t help it.

‘Thank you, Henry,’ I say in a soft tone, as if I don’t want him to hear me, but seeing how the corners of his mouth curl up, I know that he heard me.

The game is pretty simple: there is a host who asks a question and you have to answer it. It’s fairly easy and I almost feel like they are taking it easier because of me.

Every team has a button in front of them and ours meows like a cat.

‘What country won the first FIFA World Cup in 1930?’ the hosts asks.

Meow. ‘Uruguay,’ I answer, as I retract my hand from the button. .

Even the host seems impressed. ‘That is correct.’ On the screen behind him, I see that we are actually first now, with only one point, but it feels nice to be ahead of someone else, because of what I did. ‘Okay, next question. Which boxer was known as “the Great—’

Meow. That is not because of me, but because Henry slammed the button a little harder. Guess he doesn’t know how strong he is. ‘Muhammed Ali,’ he answers.

‘Correct.’ Why does the host not seem impressed now? Okay, this is nothing to be surprised about, so I should stop letting the subtle differences in reaction get to my head. It’s true, I’m pretty stupid according to the public.

And besides, we only had two questions and I had one right.

‘What animals have the longest gestation period?’

No one presses the button and I tap Henry on his leg. He looks at me and I usher him closer. ‘What is a gestation period?’

‘Pregnancy,’ he whispers, his hot breath against my lips, that start to tingle as a response. I shouldn’t get distracted because of that.

Meow. ‘An African Elephant,’ I answer.

We are ahead now with three points. I can’t help but beam with pride. Maybe the public will think a little more highly of me now.

‘What does HTTP stand for?’

Meow. ‘HyperText Transfer Protocol,’ Henry says with a smile.

‘What year was the first model of the iPhone released?’

Meow. ‘2007,’ Henry answers with ease.

He knows a lot, I think to myself. I look to the side for a second and I wonder what goes on in his head, right now and basically every single time we’re just alone. He can look at me in a way that I can’t explain and I don’t even understand why he looks at me like that.

We continue to answer multiple questions correctly and the meow is one of the only sounds that we hear. By the time we reached ten points, I discovered that Charlie and Jennifer’s sound is a bark and when we reached fifteen points, I found out that the Biebers’ sound was a chicken.

Who were the founders of Adidas? (Rudolf and Adolf Dassler—I knew this one.) Some Greek mythology questions that I knew nothing about, but Henry did and he seemed so giddy to explain it all to us, though no one seemed cared, besides me probably, because I could listen to this man for days on end. Together we knew the seven world wonders, who the Danish author was who wrote many fairy tales and they even asked us what Superman’s birth name was…

While Superman is in the room.

We are way ahead of everyone with twenty points, Charlie and Jennifer have ten (who knew that babies weren’t born with kneecaps—for knowing that alone I feel like they should win) and Justin and Hailey have nine. But the next question we can think about for a few seconds and it’s worth fifteen points. So we either become second or first, depends on how well we do.

‘Name these chemical elements of the periodic table. Ge, Sn, Rf, K and Ba.’

Henry places his arm on the back of my chair and leans over. Gosh, he is really close. Not that I’m complaining, but feeling his body heat so close to mine and it’s not even acting… Why does that make me feel all sorts of things?

‘Ge is Geranium,’ he whispers, ‘and Ba and Barium.’

‘K is Potassium,’ I say in a soft tone. ‘So we only have Sn and Rf left. Sn is Tin.’

‘You know a lot,’ he says with a smile.

Does he mean that? Did he just say I know a lot? Me, the Hollywood ditz? ‘Rf is Rutherfordium,’ I whisper.

Meow. Henry presses the button and he looks at me, non verbally asking me if I want to answer this, but I simply shake my head. He names them in order and everyone seems impressed, but before they can give him a compliment (I know the host is desperate to call him ‘Handsome Henry with a Brain’ again. He did it seven times already and it was annoying the first time, let alone the seventh time), Henry says: ‘I only knew Geranium and Barium. Adelaide is the real genius here.’

◎ ◎ ◎

It’s twelve ‘o clock when Henry and I are in bed, both staring at the ceiling. Normally I’m in bed long before he is, but today we’re awake in the bed together. The only reason why I get into bed early, is that I hope I can fall asleep before he gets in.

But not today.

‘I have something I want to ask you,’ Henry says. ‘I’ve been thinking about this for awhile.’

‘Okay?’

‘Are you dyslexic?’

He could’ve given me a slap across my face and that wouldn’t have shocked me as much as this question. I push myself up, so I’m sitting. ‘Why?’

‘Just wondering.’

I simply shrug. ‘I don’t know. I never got tested back in school.’

‘Why not?’ Henry sits up straight as well and from the corners of my eyes, I see him placing his pillow on the headboard. That one curl covers part of his forehead and it’s almost a signature look when we are in the cottage.

‘The teachers didn’t care and we didn’t have a lot of money,’ I explain. It feels weird and uncomfortable to open up to him, however on the other hand, it feels right to have this out in the open. ‘And I don’t want to get tested now,’ I whisper. ‘I’m an adult, I can manage.’ I finally force myself to look over my shoulders, only to see that same soft look in his eyes, that I almost grown accustomed to. ‘What?’

‘Nothing,’ he whispers. ‘I just want to say to you that I underestimated you and—’

I can’t help but chuckle. ‘You are not the only one,’ I interrupt him. ‘It’s okay.’

‘No, Adelaide, it’s not okay.’

The sternness in his voice, make me turn around on the mattress completely, so I can look at him. ‘I did it myself, Henry. Really, it’s okay, don’t worry about it.’

Henry moistens his lips, before he clears his throat. ‘Then I won’t worry about it. Just know that I—now—think very highly of you.’

‘You don’t need to,’ I say as a frown appears between my brows. ‘Henry, what is really the case?’

He rubs his face, resists even and he actually looks really frustrated. ‘It’s just that I’m trying to figure you out, but I can’t seem to actually get to know you.’

‘There is not much to know,’ I say, but he shakes his head and says: ‘There is. You are so intriguing, Adelaide, you don’t even know it.’

I don’t really know what to say. He thinks there is much to know about me and that I’m intriguing? ‘Oh.’

‘And I get that it can be hard to open up, truly, I know, but… We have to work together. Wouldn’t it be better if we knew something about each other?’

Okay, that’s a fair point. ‘You tell me something first,’ I say to him.

‘Like what?’ he says, genuinely looking relieved that I’m going along with it.

I tilt my head as I look in his eyes as I take in the brown spot on his left eye, that is surrounded by a beautiful blue. ‘You want to win?’

Henry frowns, probably confused by my question, but when he sees I’m dead serious, he nods. ‘Of course,’ he says, ‘I’m competitive. Why was that your question?’

‘Because now I know that I have to work extra hard not to let you down. It doesn’t really matter to me if I win or not.’

‘You won’t let me down, Adelaide.’

‘I did already,’ I say, ‘and don’t try to convince me otherwise. Now, what do you want to know about me?’

He tilts his head and says: ‘You have a nickname?’

And he thought my question was a bit weird? I snort. ‘My parents called me Dasom. That’s my Korean name.’

‘Really?’ he asks. ‘I didn’t know that.’

No one knows that. ‘But other than that I don’t really have a nickname. People call me Park every now and then, but that’s it.’

‘What does Dasom mean?’

‘Love,’ I whisper. ‘Because, as my parents always say: I was born out of pure love.’ I roll my eyes, because I hate the cliché, but thankfully I was born out of love. It meant that I was welcomed in their lives, though they were poor and barely had anything.

‘That’s sweet,’ he says. ‘So, no one called you Addy for example?’

‘Come to think of it, Keanu Reeves called me Addy every now and then. Especially when we were doing stunts for the movie and he had to encourage me.’

‘Can I call you Addy?’

The fact that he asks me if he can call me Addy, shows me that he is so much more than the news outlets let him to be. Of course, he is handsome, but there is more than just looks. He is intelligent, caring and a real gentleman. Though he can look slightly intimidating, he is a big softie. ‘I would like that, Henry.’

As much as I want to sleep, I can’t. I’m too awake for that, maybe because of the thrill that we are actually ahead of the others now. Who knows how long that will last…

‘You want to do something?’ Henry suggests. ‘I’m not as tired as I figured I would be.’

‘Like what?’

‘You want to swim?’

◎ ◎ ◎

Henry is already swimming laps in the pool, as I try to build up the courage to actually walk out of the door to the pool. I have a large towel wrapped around me, to hide my red and white striped bathing suit.

I can do this, I think to myself. I wore a skimpy bikini for a movie, I’ve been naked on sets with the crew around me. This isn’t too hard.

I walk out of the cottage and see that Henry leans with his under arms on the edge of the pool, placing his chin on one of them. ‘There you are,’ he says with a smile.

I dip my toe in the water and start to shiver, goosebumps appearing on my entire body. ‘It’s cold,’ I mumble. ‘And it looks too deep.’

‘It’s not. It’s only one meter sixty.’

‘I’m one fifty,’ I retort. ‘What if I drown?’

‘I’m not letting that happen,’ he says. ‘I promise you, Addy.’

The use of that nickname, makes my feel all sorts of things. Normally I’m not too keen on nicknames, but I could get used to this.

I fold the towel, before I place it on the floor and I sit on the edge of the pool, as my legs dangle in the cold water. Henry bumps his elbow against the side of my thigh and he asks: ‘Ready?’

Maybe it’s because of the dim lighting of the lanterns outside, or the reflection of the water, but he looks even more ethereal than other times. My eyes fall on his beautifully formed lips, that curl up in a smile.

‘I am,’ I say.

He stands in front of me and I place my hands on his broad and tight shoulders. I shimmy myself off the edge, into the cold water. Despite the fact that his large hands in the dips of my waist, makes me all warm from the inside, the water is really cold. Henry starts to laugh, probably because I scrunch up my entire face like I’m a Sharpei dog. ‘Maybe you should keep breathing, because I can’t have it that you pass out on me twice within one week.’

‘Shut up,’ I shiver, as I hold on tightly to his shoulders. ‘You’re not going to let me go, right?’ I ask, just in case.

‘Of course not,’ he whispers.

For a second I envision we’re having a moment together, but then I realize that’s not the case, because he takes a step backwards and we are further away from the edge. I can still reach over to my left, so I’m directly at the other edge, but it does terrify me a bit.

‘Henry,’ I say.

‘Yes?’

‘I’m scared.’

‘I know,’ he tells me, squeezing my waist to let me know that he is there. ‘But there is no need for you to be scared. You just have to grow comfortable in the water and that takes time.’ Henry’s voice is soft and I have to take a deep breath. ‘You’re doing great.’ He slowly takes more steps backwards and smiles at me, as if he knows that that comforts me.

After two laps of him walking backwards and me moving my legs (I don’t know why I do that, but it just happens), I feel more and more accustomed to the water. Still, I don’t want to let go of Henry for one single second, because the fear that I might drown is still there. For the other two laps, he wraps his arm around my waist, as I hold onto the edge and my other arm around his shoulder.

Henry lifts me on the edge, before he hoists himself next to me. He reaches behind him to grab my towel and wrap it securely around my shoulders. ‘How was it?’ he asks.

‘It was good,’ I admit. ‘I mean, I still don’t want to swim myself, but it’s not that scary anymore.’ I look to the side, only to discover that he was already looking at me. From the looks of it, he is looking at my lips, but I must’ve hallucinated that. ‘Thank you,’ I say, to break the silence between us.

‘You’re welcome,’ he says, his voice low.

I smile, before I stand up and hurry back inside. I was making that up, wasn’t I? He wasn’t totally staring at my lips?

Or was he?

◎ ◎ ◎

After the first episode was aired, showing the first few days of the duos together, these were the favorite tweets of the producers of ‘the Celebrity Project’

Taglist: @thelastsock​ // @jolly-polly​ // @henrythickcavill​ // @maan24​ // @diegos-butt​ / @agniavateira​ // @onlyhenrys​ // @turkish276​ //

[thethreemages]

*rises from the grave to finally deliver on a certain new story arc chapter*

...Heeeey everybody lol I know this may not be something anyone expected in like, ages compared to my other recent TTM-content... but well, ever since my last chapter upload from maaany months ago... I've just continuously kept getting blocked from wanting to get back more into the main story, especially with the influx of developing lore and side casts I've been having fun with a bit more in comparison.

But well, after some more heavy thinking and reworking a bit of how I wanted to frame the next few bits of the story to go (while still keeping relatively faithful to my original concepts)... here's the official next part to keep the main story flowing with some rather "juicy" drama ahead~

((Here's the DA Link for the fic itself in case it gets too cut-off here-))

===========

The eerie stillness of the forest was something all too familiar to those raised around this trek of the woods… but this night in particular was getting all the more “curious” for what semblance of peace was broken left and right....

On one side, a noble prince and a gentle strength mage were connecting all the closer together as they were quietly walking through the woods.

On another, a fiery prince and a gruff healer mage were stumbling into the middle of an ominous find… enough to have stirred up some lingering “threats” following after them.

And finally, as of now… a cunning dark mage was finding herself apprehended by a group she once looked up to, respected, and trusted…

“-I will not say this again! Unhand Me. This. Instant!” Prym Fletcher hissed towards the pair of guards who were roughly escorting her back to the camp, feeling tempted to have blasted them back already with her magic… had it not been for a fierce pair of eyes ordering her to keep still.

“Save it, kid. You’ve snooped upon very classified information against official orders, you’re not leaving our sight.” Taiyin Zhou replied back with a firm tone, “You’re about lucky we haven’t already arrested you as is…”

“Ughhh, I’m telling you I did NOT snoop! I had simply stumbled across your camp by accident!” the young dark mage insisted, her voice already growing exasperated with frustration, “Why won’t you believe me?? I’m Lady Meradyth and Sir Luka’s daughter, for Saint’s sake-!”

Halting in her tracks upon hearing that, Taiyin only turned her head to give a… rather puzzled look, “Sir… Luka? Um, sorry but... no one’s ever been registered in our ranks with that name…”

Rightfully confused as ever by that response, Prym had taken the moment to shove off the guards restraining her as she offendedly exclaimed, “Wait… w-what?? Oh, now this has to be a damn joke… Luka was once one of your top members back in the day! Closest friend to Ivor and my mother Meradyth, what do you mean by ‘never been registered’??”

“-Look, I’ve been here in the Elite for a good number of years, kid... and I think I would know if I was aware of anyone named Luka,” Taiyin furrowed her gaze to Prym in a frustratedly tired way, almost reminding her of one of the strict & overworked teachers back at St. Ravilda’s, “I don’t know what else to tell ya on that front, but we’ll be the ones handling the questions here, thank you very much...”

The younger mage could feel her fists clenching in a rising anger towards this woman’s insensitivity… yet didn’t have time to make another retort as a pair of familiar faces joined to greet them from behind Taiyin.

There stood the imposing General himself, alongside the stoic Alastair who gave a quiet look of disapproval towards his comrade’s harshness to Prym. In the meantime, Ivor’s face seemed to twist with many mixed feelings upon seeing his daughter’s friend. Shock, disappointment, confusion… and perhaps even a bit of fear?

“Prym… what in the Saints’ good names are you doing out here??” Ivor shakily demanded to know, the stern fatherly side of his kicking into high gear as if she were his own child caught in the act, “I told you specifically to stay back at home where it’s safe! Don’t you know what kind of danger you’re putting yourself in, especially at this hour of night within these woods??”

“I… w-well,” Prym struggled at first to find the words, not wanting to risk giving away that Tula and the others were very much out there in the woods too… so, after taking a second to think and compose herself, she retorted back to him with an unamused tone of her own, “Hmpf… I suppose I should be more asking you the same question, Ivor. Don’t think I didn’t hear His Majesty giving you orders to collect this insidious-sounding ‘white plague’ for him… whatever the hell that means for his standards…”

“-Hey, what did I say about watching your tone, kid-!” Taiyin attempted to scold her… only for Alastair to hold up his hand to let the young girl speak her mind. Not exactly expecting Prym to have spun the question onto him now, Ivor gave a conflicted moment of silence… but eventually, an approving look from Alastair encouraged the hulking General the resolve to just admit what’s up, not seeing much else to lose now that she’s already here...

“The… white plague we were speaking of earlier, Prym… is a code name for this strand of white fungal root that had suddenly taken bloom within Graystone. These plants… they’re about the most devastating plant species our country’s faced in these past few decades… once was the stuff of legends within our oldest history books, but then… somehow some twisted, sick individuals decided to recreate these plants and spread them loose to cause countless amounts of destruction among the lands…”

Hearing of these plants made Prym’s eyes widen a bit in recognition… taking a moment to think on it, “Hold on, I… think I might’ve heard of such plants back in this one story Professor Blanchard once told us; an old crone who was jealous of the younger beauties in her town made up a mash of brew from these weird, white twigs so she could poison the girls, and absorb their own beauty to become a ‘goddess’. The plan backfired when it simply made the other men exposed to her inner flaws despite all her good looks, so she was cast off in a ritual fire to pay for her sins. Could… those perhaps be the white plague plants you were mentioning?”

One by one, Ivor and the others had given a nod of yes as Alastair floated up a steel box to open in display… revealing within a sealed-jar the shriveled up remains of a ghastly, half-rotted root… curled into a position like that of a crooked hand. Nauseating as the contents were to look at, the fact that this root was seemingly swimming in a sickeningly thick black liquid near the bottom didn’t help either…

“Indeed, Prym… this is the white plague we’ve been tasked by King Grayle to retrieve,” Ivor continued on to explain, “In our years of tracking them down, they’ve been linked to many terrible cases of people becoming infected when they didn’t expect it. Whether it’d be from injesting the root itself or the snow-like spores spread out into the air… its almost impossible to fully recover from it before its too late...”

“Yes… these roots were the ultimate cause of many terrible tragedies our country will never forget…” Alastair finally spoke up as cleared his throat, his tone serious yet solemn as ever, “Queen Elianne’s death, the double-crossed Wraith Night survivors, the village residents of Yulong…”

‘...Aevri’s hometown…’, Prym thought as she felt the tears prick to her eyes, remembering when her friend was given the grave news of her parents passing away of illness a few years back in school... so sudden and out of nowhere during a seemingly peaceful period of time. Long as it was since the last she saw Mr. and Mrs. Ren, Prym could still plainly recall them both being such kind, healthy-bodied people who wouldn’t hurt a fly… so hearing of them being the unsuspecting victims of such a ghastly plant this whole time was beyond tragic… “...even among our own ranks we’re all too familiar with white plague being inflicted right under us… ” Ivor admitted with a saddened tone, his gaze to Prym signifying she’d know who he’d talk about next, “The night Lady Meradyth had fled, the arrow blades recovered from the crime scene were found to be traced with this blackened poison linked back to the plague root… which, in connection to those other past incidents could only mean one thing..”

Not having to say another word, Alastair let his magic do the talking for him as he enchanted his glowing aura to shapeshift a group of silhouetted figures gathered together, each holding the white plague roots within their hands in an ominous, unified fashion. With that, signifying that whoever was perpetrating these white plague attacks… were all working together in a single, spread-out group.

Hearing all this was already pretty heavy for Prym to bear… breaking her more into confusion as she noticed Taiyin and Alastair turning to leave along with some other guards, “w-wait, where are you going?”

“Continuing the rest of the mission, kid.” Taiyin informed her, thankfully not as harshly as before but still firm enough to try and hold the young dark mage back.

“Yes, if our sensors are correct then its only a matter of time before these plague roots bloom upon the first morning hour. We must give haste at once.” Alastair joined with Taiyin as he packed some quick essentials nearby, looking over to his superior, “General, please inform us if anything stirs around this area while we’re gone, and we shall do the same in return.”

“Noted.” Ivor simply nodded as he gave some silent orders for the two to continue heading out. As much as a part of Prym wanted to say more in perhaps suggesting to go with them or however… her mind was still much too focused on the growing anger she had towards all these suspicions and secrets being kept from her. Not even letting Ivor reach to touch her shoulder in comfort, she had resigned to simply stomp towards the tent to cool off… the shining light of the moon following behind her.

——-

On another section of the sprawled forest, making their way through the thickets was Prince Elas and Tula… seeming to make good headway on the path they were on. Further back they had found some tracks being quite imposing enough to belong to no one else but Tula’s father,

“Okay, looks like it won’t be long to find Papa!” Tula had deducted, feeling some more confidence at finding another cluster of footprints up ahead, “my guess is that he might’ve set up camp just a few trees away, by this rate.”

“Indeed, I can’t say I can find much to disagree with that notion.” Elas gave an approving nod, analyzing some of the tracks for himself, “Seems to me he might’ve had some party members of his own crossing though here, so whatever he may be up to then he’s bound to not be alone…”

Looking on ahead in the direction they were headed to, something inside Tula was feeling… odd, and kind of confused as to how everything was going so smoothly at the moment. Perhaps… a bit too smoothly, as the forest seemed eerily still at this point in time.

“...Elas, does something seem ‘off’ to you?” the young Strength mage pondered, her gaze glancing around for any signs of possible life within the trees or bushes. At first, the prince didn’t seem to detect anything out of place as he stepped ahead… until his foot caught sight of something that made him jump back in shock.

“Oh good Saints, w-what in the world was...?” gathering himself to calm down, Elas took a closer look to find that his shoe had stepped into what looked like a puddle of thick, ghastly-white goo… the contents sizzling a bit under the glow of the moonlight above. Tula had curiously peaked over his shoulder to see what was up… only for them both to jolt back again once the puddle started to bubble and release a hissing, acidic green stench.

“-What is that stuff?? I-I’ve never seen anything like that in these woods!” Tula exclaimed with a clear worry in her tone, “Do you think any of the girls or Kain found-”

Halted in her thoughts was the ear-piercing shriek of something very much inhumane ringing throughout the trees, rattling both her and Elas from standing upright. Careful to at least not fall back in the goop behind them, the two helped pick the other up as within these shrieks, they heard the loud crashing and glowing of magic clashing near the distance ahead.

“-Kain!” Elas deducted, upon recognizing the reddish-orange glow from where he was standing, “He and Aevri must’ve found something dangerous up there, come on!” he encouraged to Tula while instinctively firing up some blue fire in his hands.

Answering back only with a firm nod, Tula didn’t take long to summon up her Strength gauntlets as the two of them hurried on to try and help the other mages. If only they had looked back behind them, they would’ve noticed how that white goo from earlier was beginning to fade away as a figure summoned it back into the darkness…

—-

The normally firm General was in quite an awkward spot having Prym stumbling upon such top secret info as she did… having hoped that tonight could’ve been just a simple detour mission without having to drag any of the kids along. And he knew that hearing the truth about the dangers of white plague had truly shaken her up… so, he knew that he couldn’t have any room to blame her for not being willing to talk to him at the moment while they were alone at the campsite.

A few more minutes would pass before he’d finally make the move to head inside the tent as well… looking to find Prym with her back turned from him, clearly lost in thought and conflicted.

“...Prym, I know what you may be thinking,” Ivor steadily began, trying to keep his tone as delicate as possible, “-But you must understand that this situation was... much too dire and dark for me to just confess it freely among you and the others back home. I simply wished to protect you all-“

“-Protect us from what, Ivor?” Prym finally spoke up, not so much defensively as much as she sounded… tired, “If you haven’t already noticed, me and the girls are not little kids anymore… if you truly meant to be on an important mission regarding these plague plants, then we could’ve understood if you simply told us. Otherwise I thought… well, with the King’s orders and that one lady’s coldness to me, I…”

“...I know. And for that as well, I deeply apologize...” the General lowered his head as he sighed, “Taiyin is quite a strong soldier, noble-hearted as well… but we’ve been meaning to correct her more about not letting her loyalty to the Elite get the better of her towards outsiders. I’ll be sure to have a talk with her when she gets back, I promise.”

Assuring as that thought was, as well as relieved at his genuine apologies… something in Prym’s mind was nagging at her to not let it go. Something regarding one, particular detail that wouldn’t leave her thoughts…

“...Ivor, earlier Lady Taiyin had given me this… really strange response to me mentioning my father Luka. Basically saying he… apparently never existed within the ranks.” Prym had turned to further face the general, looking up with a look of questioning, “You didn’t even directly say that he died within those other plague casualties, simply that there was poison found at that scene where Mother ran away. Is… there something you’re not telling me, Ivor...?”

“...Prym, n-now is not the time to-“ he looked quite shaken by her sudden accusation, but Prym continued to stand her ground further with a firm anger in her tone.

“-No. Now is more than the perfect time to explain- Why is it that all my life, I’ve been told my father was this grand, loving hero of the King’s Elite alongside my mother, giving his life to protect countless innocents… and yet now I learn that’s all apparently been one big lie?? Ivor, please what is the real truth here?? W-Was my father a true soldier, or not?? Was he working for some other party, dealing with some unsavory types?? Please, j-just tell me already, Ivor!”

Steadily her voice began to shake more to a near-sobbing tone, lip quivering as her mind was drifting to all sorts of possibilities… and one more question stuck out the most as she pitifully looked up to the older general,

“Ivor… is my father even alive…?”

Silence quickly fell upon the tent… as Ivor looked conflicted as to how exactly he should answer such a question, let alone in a situation like this. As the seconds were passing into a minute between them, Prym was afraid that… perhaps he wouldn’t give her an answer, that maybe it was a mistake to ask at all after she had already stepped out of line as is… until at last, the still air broke when Ivor delivered a simple, one word answer that changed everything…

“...yes…”

——-

On their end of the forests away from everyone else, things had… really picked up much more chaotically for Kain and Aevri, the two of them now lost in a battle between an eerie group of monsters clamoring around them. Resembling that of tall, ragdoll-like humanoids made of white tree bark… their gaping mouths and hollow eyes dripping with white goo could’ve easily shackled their two foes in complete fear, if they both weren’t so stuck in fighter mode right now.

“-Eat this, bitch!” Kain had exclaimed with some kicks and punches of his crystal magic blasts, encasing the tree-like creatures in red shards that pinned them all to the ground. Aevri in the meantime did her best to defend them both, having summoned her shields to ward off and slice away closing-in enemies.

“Ughhh, will you freaks get the damn hint already?? Piss off!” the Healer mage grunted, swiftly throwing her summoned-shield to knock back some of the foes before it flew back into her arms. Try as they might through their defenses, however… Aevri and Kain could only watch as the monsters had simply risen up more from the ground up, not even seeming phased by their earlier attacks.

“Oh for fuck’s sake… what the hell is keeping these things alive??” Kain cursed while powering up another set of crystal attacks, “Even a wyvern would’ve fallen down by now, shit!”

Before Aevri could’ve answered back with a possibly-snarky retort, their thoughts were halted as they saw a flurry of blue flames burning back the horde of monsters that tried to make a grab at the two… the sender revealing none other than Elas and Tula who had hurried on to join the battle.

“...Greeaaat, perfect timing, bro.” the younger Graystone prince flatly remarked with a roll of his eyes, his brother simply scoffing in response with a flick of his hair, “-Save the backtalk til after we’re safe, Kain.” Letting his companion Tula take the next step in pummeling down some of the creatures with her firsts, she at least gave a more grateful and relieved look to her healer friend at seeing her standing strong in the fight, “-Aevri! Thank the Saints you’re alright! I-I hope these things didn’t hurt you too much…”

“Pff, hey... what would it be a fight without a few scrapes?” Aevri joked a bit to lighten the mood, bringing a small smile to Tula’s face before the both of them turned to ward off the next wave of monsters. It almost seemed concerning just how much these things were reanimating up again despite the waves of attacks… only seeming to keep going and going within the next few minutes to pass.

All… until each of the tree dolls suddenly halted in their place like statues, the melting white goop re-materializing into their eye sockets properly as each of them stood up straight. Confusing the hell out of the mages that were fighting them, the four watched as these dolls started to assemble into some upright positions… almost like an army awaiting their leader approaching. And with a rustle of movement coming from the bushes from behind, that… actually seemed quite closer to the truth as a pair of footsteps came walking out from the dark.

“-Hey! Who’s there??” Aevri turned in the direction of the steps as did the rest of her party, all rearing for another big battle… but then pausing as they finally saw who it was. Turning out to be a pair of hooded, ominous figures greeting them in plain view… their features hidden from where they were standing a lil far back. All until they stepped further into the moonlight was it shown that they were both women, one of them covering their face with a featureless white doll mask… and the other simply smiling back in a rather calm, calculating way.

“Aww… whats wrong, little ones~?” the hooded figure with a mask tilted its head, giggling in a tone that sounded much too saccharine sweet, “Sister and I simply wanted to have a lil playtime with my babies here… don’t be so mean~”

Naturally, this quite frankly creeped out the young mages who were now all the more confused seeing the masked lady stepping over to gently caress one of the tree dolls, as if it were her most prized possession. Compared to everyone else ain was at least trying to mask his unnervedness by standing back more boldly,

“H-Hey, these things of yours attacked us first, lady… what the actual fuck are you on about-??”

“...Hmmmm, temper temper...” came the much more dignified voice of the other woman, shaking her head in Kain’s direction though that smile of hers still remained clear as day, “Is that any way to speak to your family… Kain?”

The once-fierce gaze in Kain’s eyes had… very much evaporated into a look of disbelief upon hearing that voice… the crystal auras in his hands disappearing as they dropped to his sides in shock, “...w-what…?”

Alarmed by his brother’s sudden distress, Elas had turned to try and step up in Kain’s defense as he demanded, “-What in the Saints’ good name are you on about?? Kain is my brother, and I do not recall either of you being anywhere near ‘family’!”

“-Shhhh, manners… young man~” whispered the masked-figure, holding a finger to her lips as all stilled around her… summoning an eerie aura that surrounded the other mages into freezing in place, much like the tree dolls. Unable to do anything but move their heads and faces, Tula, Elas and Aevri all looked on as only Kain was allowed to move on his own… yet all he could do was just shakily stand in place as the unmasked figure slowly approached him… again still smiling that damn smile of hers…

“-No, n-no no you can’t… you can’t be her…!” muttered the now-shaky voice of the usually-haughty prince… trembling as the figure was now up face-to-face with him. Even without being freeze-spelled like the others were, Kain could do nothing but stare as the figure reached up a hand to his face… gently caressing his cheek as her free hand moved to pull back her hood.

Now… there was really no doubt who exactly she was. The striking red hair, the ruby red lips, the amber eyes all too similar to Kain’s… save for the subtle signs of aging, he could never forget a face like that....

“Yes… it is me, my son~”

———

Millions of thoughts were running through Prym’s mind as she recalled what Ivor just confessed to her. Her father… her own father Luka… was alive all this time?? As much as she wanted to celebrate such news, another dark side of her was just reeling at the implications…

Where was her father, all this time she and her mother were in hiding? Why didn’t he come back for them? Was someone keeping him hostage, forcing him in place? What if… what if he willingly chose to abandon her? Not even sparing her a second thought, wherever he’s at now…?

Sensing the growing conflict growing within Prym, Ivor did his best to try and diffuse the situation as he reached to comfort her, “Prym, I… p-please try to understand-“

“-What IS there to understand, Ivor?? Nothing is making sense anymore!” the dark mage exclaimed as she threw up her hands, feeling her tears growing hot as she began to pace back and forth, “You say my father’s apparently alive all this time, but where in Terra IS he?? Obviously he’s not within the Elite ranks now, Mother hasn’t heard from him in ages, and none of the current Elite seem to know who he is! All I want now is the truth, and I want it now!”

“...” Ivor had grown quiet for the moment, heavily sighing as he gestured for Prym to follow him near one of the seats, “I… know this is very much against protocol, but… i-it’s about time you knew, Prym…”

As much as she would’ve liked to argue and stay pouting… the ever-curious side of Prym decided to relent in at least hearing his side of the story out, wiping away her tears with a still-determined look in her eyes. All she could do was watch on as Ivor went and grabbed an old wooden chest to carry over to her, opening the contents to pull out a sealed document folder hidden under some other papers and trinkets inside.

“Prym… your father was a man that had many burdens over him at his age,” the General began to explain, handing Prym the folder as he sat down next to her, “As much as he tried his best to fulfill his duties as a leader… others still feared and hated him for feeling like he took away what wasnt ‘rightfully’ his, on top of the already-detested dark magic he carried. And well… being his oldest friend, I knew that it wouldn’t be healthy for him to linger on all this bad press… so, it was my suggestion that he would involve himself more with our growing Elite forces, to help him lighten up from the stress of it all...”

Within her grasp, Prym flipped open the folder to see the first page contained a picture of Luka’s face on it, with the royal insignia of the Elite stamped below it. With a silent nod from Ivor, she flipped under it to see that inside held some various papers and photos from the old days of Luka’s younger years… from sparring with his troops, to happily posing with some grateful-looking civilians, to joining together with his team to stand vicariously together all at once.

“Overtime, your father grew to fit in well within the Elite for letting him express himself for who he was… beyond all the titles and dark magical stigmas, but as a loyal comrade who’d do anything for the good of Graystone. And since the local civilians didn’t seem to recognize him as a simple soldier like the rest of us, he had even felt comfortable enough to try and help out these communities through his own acts of vigilantism…” Ivor chuckled, unable to resist a small blissful smile at the memory, “Not too surprising that he and your mother grew to get along a lot well in that department, denying as they were at first...”

Pausing for a moment from browsing through the folder, Prym looked over to Ivor with a look of puzzlement, “...So, if you say my Father did all these great things for the people… why would they turn on him because he performed some darker magic spells than normal? I know Mother had mentioned that he enraged some uptight army for his necromancy, but…”

“...W-Well, truth be told, that... wasn't exactly the ‘full’ reason for his eventual attack, Prym...” Ivor admitted, rubbing the back of his neck, “Luka, well-meaning as he was… at the same time was always rather stubborn and reckless when it came to what he thought was the right thing to do, regardless of the possible consequences ahead. There was no better example for when he had stepped out of protocol in one of our missions against a local crime-lord of the downtown New Grayle district… Boss Byzantine.”

“Byzantine…?” Prym blinked, steadily recognizing that surname after a bit of thought, “-One of Kaz’s bully friends shared that name back in school… Cable Byzantine.”

“Ahh, yes… the Boss would’ve been Cable’s father, from what I recall of that man.” Ivor gave a nod of acknowledgement, “Often kept to himself apart from the few public appearances with his family… most wouldn’t even know much else of him aside from that automobile company of his. But well… we as the Elite were having our growing suspicions after examining more of how poorly the downtown area was, and interviewing the locals terrorized from his gang’s past attacks. And thanks to one of our undercover operatives, Sgt. Kodiak, we had not only started to put any and all accomplices in jail, but had planned in the near future to soon put Byzantine to justice too. Luka, however… well, turns out he had decided to take fate into his own hands by cornering the Boss one day in his office with his dark magic… giving into temptation with his soul-ripping spells to really show the crooked man who he was messing with…”

The air seemed to grow heavier as Ivor quickly grew quiet again, his gaze going back to the chest’s contents as he pulled out something else from under all the papers… a locket with a purple moon gem symbol on the front, “...In the end, thanks to some nearby guards catching wind of his actions, Luka wasn’t fully able to be rid of Byzantine as he hoped… but that would soon seal his fate as the Boss had subtly planned a “vengeance” of his own. And so, a few years later Luka and Meradyth had made plans to head into the Downtown area for a quick errand, picking up this upcoming birthday present for you...” explaining as he gently placed the pendant within the girl’s hands, eyes closing as he painfully recalled further...

“...and, just as they were heading back home… they were ambushed. A mix of Byzantine’s own men and a few hired hands from the army Luka has disgraced, together overwhelmed the couple in more ways than one. Within all the smoke, blades, and spells being thrown around it was practically impossible for either of them to evade it all on their own…”

“So, how exactly did my father manage to survive from it all...?” Prym turned her gaze to ask, a hand gently resting onto Ivor’s as he felt himself getting shaken by the recollecting… only pressing on further for Prym’s sake, “-Through having to spend a good chunk of his aura energy on teleporting Meradyth away from safety, and the last of it to unleash one, devastating blast to ward off the remaining foes, they were defeated and got taken into custody… but at a grave cost to Luka, himself. Our troops, try as we did to bring him back to heal him up, just weren’t able to stop the plague-induced infections from slipping him into a deep sleep. Hours had turned to days, and days turned to weeks… and throughout it we were beginning to lose hope. Finally, at last he was able to wake up and face us again, b-but…”

It was here that Ivor had turned to look back at Prym, placing a hand to her shoulder as he delivered the news that had shattered the shred of hope she had earlier...

“Prym… h-he didn’t recognize us anymore, and… neither could he remember either you or your mother when we tried to tell him after waking up…”

“...W… What? No… n-no that can’t be right..!” the dark mage bitterly broke into a sobbing mess, shaking her head in near-denial, “-What kind of father would just up and forget his own loved ones, his own family?? P-Please tell me this isn’t true, Ivor! Please…!”

“...I-I’m sorry, Prym...” a guilt-ridden Ivor muttered, instinctively pulling Prym in for a tight hug despite her protesting sobs, “We tried all we could, believe me we did… but this plague proved to be the most resilient curse on our fellow comrade, even with the best medicinal help. Showing him pictures, records, and home videos did little to jog his memory… after awhile, he started refusing our help all together despite our protests…”

Soon, even as toughened as he usually was… even Ivor has begun to shed some tears as he held Prym close,

“He’s changed so much as time further passed, Prym.. not even going by his name anymore whether he’s off duty or not these days. To the point where eventually we just decided to never bring up the subject of Luka anymore, with the very few remaining soldiers from our old ranks swearing to silence never to speak of him either. As much as we wanted to reunite him with you both in the coming years, we just… w-we didn’t want to task the risk if anything were to… well, go wrong…”

To say that this did anything to soothe Prym’s heartbroken state would be a lie… as in the minutes that passed her furious sobs had silenced into mere whimpers, whilst Ivor continued to do his best to hold and comfort her as if she were his own child. In some ways, this news had devastated her even more than her initial thoughts of her father being deceased. To even imagine having to go through as much as he did, miraculously surviving but erased of his own memories like that… it was beyond crushing of a thought...

...Yet, the more she had paused to think on this info, the more she began to realize the implications of what exactly Ivor meant by Luka not going by his name anymore. Thinking back to the folder left next to her, she couldn’t help herself in pulling away from Ivor… desperately flipping through until her eyes caught sight of the last page. Her father’s medical file.

And this time, even Ivor didn’t move to stop her as he defeatedly looked away, accepting that she had to know this sooner than later...

...our current patient has been confirmed to have been inflicted with trauma-induced memory loss, and by royal order we have been requested to withhold further treatment by his end. Our staff has grown worried with his own past history of ongoing PTSD and Chronic Depression, but well… as our fellow staff had put it, an order’s an order.

With a heavy heart, this concludes our progress into looking after our patient of the past year and a half... Luka Grayle.

[restlessmaknae]

youth is never coming back

Every year, on 13th June, he went to the graveyard. To remember. To forget. To say thank you. To regret. To let the tears fall and laugh with them.

♦ Characters: OT7 (Jin-focused)

♦ Genre: HYYH-based storyline, angst, drama

♦ Words: 8k

♦ Warning: mentions of phobias, mental disorders, suicide, physical abuse and major character deaths

PROLOGUE

It was 13th June.

Today − just like every year after I’ve turned 12 – I accompanied my grandfather who went to the cemetery to put some flowers on six particular graves. He slowly crouched down, accumulated all the fallen leaves and cleared the surface of each and every grave. Then, for long minutes, his eyes were staring far ahead and filled with bittersweet nostalgia. It seemed that something was eating him up; he was quietly struggling, clutching onto his chest, gasping for air and murmuring to himself.

When I first saw him, I thought that he was having an episode – it wouldn’t have been a surprise after all. But the moment I tapped him on the shoulder, he turned around to look at me and when our eyes met, I saw tiny teardrops shining in his eyes like beautiful sea pearls. He was definitely one of the most frightened creatures I have ever seen in my life. To my astonishment, he shrugged my help right away. He was stuttering, searching for the right words to say while I tried my best to help him but he didn’t let me – not even once.

As years went by, I became quite hesitant when I noticed that 13th June was just in a few days’ time. I asked my parents why I should go with him when I don’t even know the loved ones he’s visiting and they merely said the following:

“Your grandfather has a very tragic and sorrowful past. Since we can’t always give him a ride to the graveyard, at least you should be there for him. Once you will be old enough, I’m sure he would tell you what you need to know.”

That was it. Grandfather was always pretty reserved and secretive but until my first visit with him to the scary graveyard, I didn’t think much of it. After that, he became the definition of mystery for me. I knew that he had such a painful youth that everybody thought that it was a miracle that he was still alive; not hunted by ghosts and developing a mental illness.

It’s pretty weird to think of it that you have a grandfather whom people like to talk about and you still don’t know anything about him. Or at least, not those things that you are most curious about.

However, this year, it all became clear and I wished I hadn’t got all the answers this time. After his confession, several times I caught myself lying in bed, staring at the ceiling and replaying his memories in my mind. I frantically flinched whenever I heard screeching sounds of tyres or someone lit up a cigarette around me. I was never the same person and I couldn’t look at him the way I did before. I even understood why he said that youth is never coming back whenever I had to face obstacles.

Because he knew it; he knew that I could get over them because my problem was never as serious as his. Or his friends’. My teenage years were never as devastating and definite as his. And luckily, I was never in his shoes and could never feel the way he did. Now looking back, I know I should have been a happier person, I should have respected my friends more and I should have loved my family even more. I should have said thank you and sorry and I should have said I love you as well.

Why? It’s simple. Grandfather thought me that you never know when things would start falling apart and you never know when you see the faces of your friends for the last time. You could never be prepared for when they will be gone. And not just figuratively but really.

Since you never know when they will die.

THE STORY OF LILIES

The day had come.

My ordinary school day went by in its usual pace and I never allowed myself to wander off and start worrying about my afternoon visit to the graveyard. It was kind of terrifying to walk by hundreds of graves and I swear that I even heard whispers once. Maybe it was just another family member who didn’t have the chance to say goodbye to the loved one who had died. But it was still scary and small wonder why it wasn’t a favourite place of an 18-year-old high school student.

Anyway, it was still better than neglecting grandfather who seriously needed company and a helping hand after granny had died when I was 12. Yes, that was also the time when I became his partner for his graveyard trips on 13th June.

As I was leaving after my last class and unintentionally slammed the entrance door in somebody’s face, I noticed a familiar figure sitting on a newly painted bench in the park which was in front of our school.

“Grandpa!” I exclaimed as I was approaching him and saw the lilies in his hands. It was always those lilies; he bought them every single time we went to those graves and there was always six of them. Six beautiful but stern piles of lilies.

“Nari!” A genuine smile was forming on his lips when he heard my fairly childish voice and began to stand up. I walked faster in order to help him and gave him a tight hug when we succeeded.

He was old, I was aware of that. 72 years could be considered quite old but he wasn’t old because of his silver-grey hair or bad eye-sight. Everybody knew why he was like that; because of all those horrifying things that happened to him when he was young. Some people were particularly surprised that he could make it to 72 years; some didn’t even expect him to survive after what had happened back then. And what I knew nothing about.

“How was school today?” He whispered while I was still hugging him and I was only able to withdraw when I had to answer. I suppose a frown was evident on my face.

“Tiring as usual,” I rolled my eyes in annoyance because what else could I say? School was tiring and boring as always. Nothing interesting ever happened there. Not like I wanted my life to be fast-paced but it wasn’t the least interesting.

“You should cherish these years as well. Once you will be old like me, you will regard this time of your life as the best one.” He stated absent-mindedly and I had this feeling again that he was referring to his own youth.

“I know, grandpa. But it’s hard…” I whined like a toddler and let out an irritated grumble.

“It is.” He nodded in agreement and his words were all part of his little secret; the one that only he knew. Maybe I wasn’t still old enough to know the truth.

We slowly fell into a comfortable silence. We didn’t even talk for the next 25 minutes except me asking him where we should sit on the bus. When we finally arrived at the graveyard, I started fidgeting anxiously because I exactly knew what was following. The same old sorrowful routine which I knew step by step.

As we were on our way to those particular graves, the almost touchable proximity to the dead made my heart beat in bewilderment. This whole mysterious, stern and terrifying atmosphere was lingering around us; the thought that one day I would be here as well always seemed to cross my mind. I couldn’t help nibbling my lips.

We were getting closer and closer and my heart was beating faster and faster. The moment we reached the first grave, grandfather turned to face me and said:

“Would you mind holding these for me?” He asked with a broken smile and looked down at his pale hands. He was referring to those six lilies which he was holding firmly.

“Not at all.” I mustered and grabbed the handful of flowers. I didn’t get it. Why did it always have to be those lilies? Why couldn’t it be roses or baby’s breath? Why couldn’t it be something that wasn’t connected to me?

He didn’t say more, so I didn’t know what to do. Should I let him struggle alone and stand a little bit further away – like always? Or would he need the flowers in the next minute?

“Grandpa…” I whispered hesitantly.

‘You can stay.”

The sudden permission struck me like lighting. I wasn’t prepared for him allowing me to stay. My blood ran cold.

I opened my mouth to say something but he had already averted his eyes to the grave when I was finally able to speak. Suddenly, he tucked his hands into his pockets and got out some polaroids. Judging from how torn they looked, they could be pretty old. He looked down at them and a minute of silence followed.

I didn’t even dare to breathe, the seconds seemed so unbreakable. I could only hear the sound of my crazily beating heart and screeching tyres from the distance. I was shivering.

Then, he chose one polaroid and held it in front of his face, examining it again and again. He didn’t seem nervous or scared, he was perfectly in control of his emotions. He was standing there – stern and brave – like a statue. When he finally spoke, his voice sounded strained.

“Kim Taehyung, my dear friend,” he cleared his throat and stopped after saying the name out loud. I only knew about this boy because he was once one of grandfather’s friends but I was never told whether he was still alive or already died. Well, obviously, I knew the answer by now.

“You were always a kid to me; a talkative, bubbly kid. I thought that you always saw the bright side of life and enjoyed joking around and teasing others. Your smile was something that made our days better. Your laugh was something that made us laugh as well. Maybe you couldn’t recognise it but you were the centre of the wheel.”

Grandfather’s words were lovely and heart-warming. My shoulders loosened as I started listening to him and even though the sadness in his voice didn’t go unnoticed, his words soothed my nerves a little.

“Soon I had to realise that this was just the surface,” he croaked and my heart almost missed a beat. “There’s no denying that you were the one who had to suffer the most. We were aware of the fact that your frequently drunk father beat you, your mom and your sister. We knew about your bruises that you tried to cover with your long-sleeved shirt and baggy pants yet they couldn’t cover them all. That’s how I recognised it first and alarmed the others but you didn’t let us help you. You said that you would try to find a way to make things right. But after the day when he beat your mom to death, you couldn’t take your anger back.” He continued with shaky voice and I was at the verge of fainting, sternly holding onto those lilies and trying to pacify my crazily beating heart. No, that can’t be. He couldn’t have done that.

“Everyone thinks that you were the motive of the whole butterfly effect; of us falling one by one. But even if it’s true, you need to know that we never blamed you. You had to do what was right; you had to save your sister and even yourself. It was self-defence and you didn’t mean to take your father’s life. We knew. But we also knew that you could go to jail because there was no evidence and maybe that was why you decided to end your own life. You were always a good friend, a brother almost and we thought that we could easily read your mind. However, on that day, when you climbed up on that platform, we didn’t have the slightest idea that you would do so. That you would jump off and leave us. You couldn’t see but we tried to save you – at least 5 of us. We jumped into the sea, one after another, trying to swim to the area you had landed but when we finally found you, your heart had already stopped beating. You can’t even imagine how long we tried to cherish the thought that you weren’t dead and there was still hope. We tried to resuscitate you but there was no response. You were the first to leave us.”

My nerves were frazzled, I could barely breathe. I had never once imagined Kim Taehyung committing suicide because of his father. I had never once imagined any of grandfather’s friends ending their own lives. I couldn’t even muster a single thing as I started to puzzle up his words.

“Thank you for being a resilient fighter and caring brother! Your sister had the chance to live a full, happy life thanks to you. She now has children and even grandchildren but my favourite one is her first-born son…” He confessed coyly, his cheeks tinted pink. He looked down at the photo and then up again. A pearl-like teardrop was already shining in his eyes when he continued. “His name is Taehyung.”

I had to look away in order not to start weeping. Even if I didn’t have the chance to meet him, I was sure that he was such a lovable person. I already respected him with all my heart as he sacrificed so much because of his family.

“Thank you for being with us, Kim Taehyung,” he whispered, silently crouching down and putting the photo on his grave accompanied by one pile of lilies. Then, he bowed and my heart ached for him. I helped him to get up and we moved onto the next grave. There, he hold onto another picture and started talking – with only a mysterious half-smile just like before.

“Park Jimin, my dear friend,” he pondered and got his grip together. “You were always a delighted, open-minded and positive person. You didn’t let any day pass by without your trademark eye-smile appearing on your face. You gave in so easily and joined us in whatever stupid thing we wanted to do. You were always radiant. However, as they say, you can fall the hardest from the top of the world. And that day−“he trailed off and paced out for a moment or so. “That day literally broke you.”

I peered over grandfather’s shoulder to look at the next polaroid. All I could see was a charming, black-haired boy at around the age of 18. He looked beaming and satisfied like nothing on Earth could bother him. There was actually no boy like him nowadays; everyone was either busy and stressed or greedy and selfish. He must have been a lovely person to be around.

“Taehyung’s death affected all of us but you were the one who couldn’t take the pain. It was mostly because of shame. Because you couldn’t save him and couldn’t even intend to save him. You had aquaphobia from a very young age and seeing him jumping into the water made you more terrified than ever. You had a constant fear of water and when we all jumped in to save him, you were standing there, frozen and absolutely devastated. I saw the commitment in your eyes when we pulled Taehyung to the surface but you couldn’t do it. You couldn’t swim and it drove you crazy. You were screaming and walking up and down on the harbour like a lunatic, tears constantly sliding down your cheeks. I could see that there was hope shining in your eyes when we managed to get him to you. You didn’t know then that he was already dead, just when you tried to listen to his heartbeat. You couldn’t hear anything. Anything at all,” he said, his voice barely audible. There was a moment or so when he suddenly stopped and I thought that he would start crying but he didn’t. He stayed strong, firmly holding onto the picture like it could bring Jimin back. I was the one who was already on the edge of tears.

“After that, there was no turning back. You were lost in the maze of confusion, shame and regret,” he shook his head and his voice suddenly became so raspy. “When I heard the news, I couldn’t believe it. You left us, you ended your life in the same way Taehyung did. You drown yourself in your bathtub. I don’t know if it was because you thought that you would do justice to his memory or because you wanted to overcome your fear. Whatever your reason was, I just want you to know that you shouldn’t have blamed yourself. It wasn’t your mistake, Taehyung wouldn’t have blamed you. He also wouldn’t have wanted you to follow him,” he continued and my world suddenly became numb. How was that possible that such wonderful people decided to end their own lives? Just by thinking about it, my heart broke into tiny little pieces. The world was all wrong.

“Thank you for being a loyal friend and a sunshine in everybody’s life! Boyeon’s also doing fine but she couldn’t fall in love with anyone else. Your bond must have been too strong to let her fall for any other man. She still has that angle-like smile – like you called it – but it’s slightly broken now. As she loved you till the end, she still does,” he crouched down, put the polaroid and another lily on the grave and stood up again. I had no idea who Boyeon was but I puzzled up his words and assumed that she was Jimin’s love. I couldn’t even imagine her pain; loving someone and waking up one day to the thought that this someone was already in another world. “Thank you for being with us, Park Jimin,” he bowed slowly and respectfully, his eyes full of affection and concern. Every of his words were sincere yet heart-wrenching and I couldn’t be prepared for what was following.

“Jeon Jungkook, my dear friend,” we moved onto the next grade and grandfather looked at another torn picture. It showed a young boy with a cheeky smile and the most wonderful pitch-black eyes I’ve ever seen in my life. His childish features couldn’t hide the fact that he was younger than his other two friends but he was also so tall compared to another guy who was beside him. I soon realised that the one who slanged his arms around the boy’s shoulder was actually grandpa. Of course, in a younger version, with his fluffy chestnut-brown hair and chocolate-brown eyes. They looked so happy, it hurt to look at that scene.

“You were always a bit shy and more introverted than the others but we still liked you like that. We somehow managed to break down your walls and it turned out that you were actually quite amusing. You even teased your hyungs but never went too far. You always helped me when I wanted to cook something and you were always there when any of us needed company. You were truly an amazing friend,” he whispered with awe and looked up at the grave. It must have been hard for him, seeing that this was the only thing that Jungkook had left off. I felt the same when grandma died; I tried to cling onto the beautiful memories, the touch of her beloved books, the scent of her pillow but it eventually faded away. Memories became shorter and more distant, her scent was faint and her books were given away for charity.

“I never thought that you would fall apart like that. You were always the one who were good at everything and couldn’t even hurt anyone. Of course, you had enemies because they were jealous of you but you always fought back. Yet, going home after Jimin’s funeral, you let them hurt you. They beaten you up, they kicked you, they punched you in the face and you didn’t fight back. Not even once. When they realised it as well, they abandoned you in an alleyway and God knows how long did you stay there. You probably wanted to go home when you crossed a road but the traffic light was red. The driver of the car didn’t notice you in time and hit you. Even the ambulance couldn’t save you. When they arrived, you had already died,” his voice shook a little as he said ‘died’ out loud. I felt like my heart was in the abyss of sorrow; it gripped me from the very first word and didn’t let me go. I was shivering and my mind was full of crazily scattered imaginations. Pain was slowly engulfing my heart and encaging my thoughts. I gulped.

“Thank you for letting us see your beautiful soul! You were the most unselfish friend we’ve ever had. It’s cruel of this world to take you away from us because unlike Taehyung or Jimin, you didn’t want to end your life. You just wanted to forget about the pain. I hope, wherever you are now, you can’t feel pain. I hope you smile there like you always did and watch out for me,” he suddenly looked up at the sky, his eyes wandering, looking for Jungkook’s place among the invisible stars. His lips were slowly dissolving into a bittersweet smile. “Thank you for being with us, Jeon Jungkook,” he croaked and looked down at his own hands which were holding the polaroid tightly. He let out a sorrowful sigh. His hands were slightly shaky when he reached out to me, waiting for another pile of lily. I handed it to him but my heart broke when our eyes met. The usual affectionate glint in his eyes was gone; it was replaced by grief. I had never seen him so broken.

When he put the flower and the polaroid on the grave, he waited a minute before he stood up. I saw as he tried to wipe away his tears with his thumbs. I knew it was still not the end of our trip but I didn’t assume that he would hold back his tears for so long. Maybe it was because he rather accepted his friends’ decisions than the twists of fate.

Then, he reached out to another polaroid and started talking again.

“Min Yoongi, my dear friend,” he let out a sigh and cleared his throat before he continued. “You had a lot of different sides but despite being grumpy in the mornings, you know that even the younger ones really liked you. You were exceptionally hard-working and when you put your mind to something, you could always succeed. You were also quite amusing and made us laugh several times. The kids liked to tease you about being lazy but you would never mind their bickering. You would never admit it but deep in your heart, you really cared about all of us. You were the first to jump into the water after Taehyung committed suicide and the first to break down into tears when you heard the news of Jimin’s death. But as you always said, your biggest fear consumed you in the end,” he drew another heavy sigh and shifted his gaze away.

I respected him with all my heart; how he could talk about such sorrowful things was absolutely honourable. He didn’t hide anything, his soul was completely bare yet full of wounds. He was almost like a moon flower; it bloomed in the dazzling moonlight until its worst enemy approached the flower. Like the sunlight for the moon flower, memories were grandfather’s toughest opponents. As soon as the sun came up, as soon as memories began to tear him apart, he closed. I hope I could help him this time if he wanted to close again.

“You had pyromania but you could control it well, even experts didn’t believe in your progress after you had showed signs when you were young,” he slowly shifted his attention back to the grave, his eyes full of the most beautiful shining stars of dismay. “Your parents always cared about you but you became distant with them and even moved out when you had turned 20. So, they stated that it was because of us; we were the ones who motivated you to control your urges. You didn’t even start a fire when you were with us, just sometimes played with the lighter but nothing serious. However, after the death of three of our friends, you couldn’t take it back. When you were around us, you didn’t show any sign of fear but at home, you probably struggled a lot because in the end, that’s how you ended your own life. By burning up your room and yourself. Doctors said that when you started the fire, you just wanted to relieve tension and never actually thought that you would die because that’s how addicts think,” he trailed off and gulped. His lips were quivering. “It didn’t help to wash our pain away,” he stammered with subtle voice and that was the moment when he didn’t want to hide his tears anymore. He lifted his head up, his eyes shining with proud teardrops, slowly spilling down his cheeks.

“Thank you for always caring about us and overcoming your fear when you were with us! You were such a strong and brave person because you were able to say no to your urges and lead a healthier life. You taught us how to fight against our enemies, even if it’s our own mind who we fight against. There are so many things that we could learn from you and you had a huge influence on the younger ones even if you wouldn’t call it that,” he said and stopped for a moment. “Thank you for being with us, Min Yoongi,” he bowed respectfully, almost in a 90-degree angle. 

Soon, the first teardrop landed on the surface of the grave. He wasn’t crying helplessly like a starving person craving for food; he was merely sobbing silently like he didn’t even want to break the peaceful silence. I also tried not to bother him but I couldn’t take my tears back. The more I played his memories in my head, the more I wanted to cry. I was wretched, wounded and enraged at the same time. How could this world be so cruel? How could fate write such endings for these boys? It didn’t seem right. The world suddenly became a big, cruel mess for me.

Grandfather put down the picture and the lily on the grave without any word. I tried to wipe away my tears but to no avail. As much as I wanted to run away and cry until I dozed off, I also wanted to stay beside him until the end. I still had some questions to ask and I still believed that I could only do justice to grandfather’s friends if I listened to all of their stories.

“Jung Hoseok, my dear friend,” he stepped to another grave and got out another polaroid from his pocket. It was torn as well but the smile on the boy’s face was so radiant that I couldn’t see anything, expect his joyful grin. He was the definition of that so-called light, someone whose smile was definitely sincere. “You were always such an energetic, light-hearted person, a beaming light in the darkest times. You never really cared whether you looked ridiculous until you could make someone smile with your behaviour. You smiled a lot and laughed a lot. When we were down, you were the one who pulled us through the hardships and showed us that there are always happier times waiting for us. You were caring, sincere and loyal, a truly amazing friend. I’m sorry that we couldn’t help you,” he suddenly admitted and his voice sounded so weary and extremely painful. “I’m sorry we couldn’t find a way to help your insomnia.”

I gasped for air; I felt like the words triggered so many emotions at once that the atmosphere became unbearably suffocating. I found it even harder to breathe as he continued.

“You had to take pills for your disorder and it helped at first. You said that you still found it hard to sleep at nights, mostly because of pressure to do well on your exams but you slept well when you could. We were relieved. It never affected our friendship since you controlled it well like Yoongi did but we were still worried about you. Your smiles were the only ones that could set us at ease. However, the more of our friends died, the more you couldn’t sleep. The pain was even unbearable when you were awake, so I can’t even imagine how much you could have struggled because you weren’t able to sleep. You mentioned that the others were hunting you in your dreams when you finally fell asleep and it scarred you to death. You didn’t even think it through, you just took more and more of those pills and it helped to release some of the pain. One day, you went too far and overdosed yourself. I wish it hadn’t happened like that. You, like Yoongi, probably didn’t know what you did, just wanted to get away from the pain. I wish we had done more but we couldn’t,” he shook his head in disbelief and went silent for some seconds. My tears kept sliding down but I didn’t mind. Sometimes tears could say more than words; sometimes it was the only way to show how we really felt.

“Thank you for being a warm-hearted, considerate and cheerful friend! Thank you for being our guiding light in the darkest times and showing us that life is beautiful even if obstacles occur. Thank you for making us smile when even you weren’t in the mood to smile. You were the one who we could lean on and you always put others’ happiness before yours. You were the source of light and joy in our lives. Without you, our days would have been so much harder,” grandfather sobbed and looked more broken than ever. “Thank you for being with us, Jung Hoseok,” he cried out in pain and dropped to the grave.

I immediately hurried to him, observing if his condition had anything to do with his poor health but it didn’t seem so. When I gently patted his back, he turned to face me and I didn’t even know how to phrase the expression on his face. You know, when you see a sun going down and you have this ambivalent feeling, that odd combination of happiness and sadness. Looking at the sunset, you are aware that something is over and something is still on the way. Maybe that’s how I could portray him; he was terribly hurt and somewhat gloriously calm at the same time.

“Grandfather−“ I started but was cut off by him.

“It’s okay. I-I will just need some minutes to re-arrange my thoughts,” he muttered and I obligated, still in the state of shock. I didn’t even intend to stop my tears from falling because I didn’t want to. All I wanted to do was to let it all out and clear my mind. I was terrified and his memories were haunting me whenever my eyes were slipping shut. There’s no doubt that I believed him, I believed every of his words but I still couldn’t believe the fact that life could be so cruel to them. Having 6 friends is an amazing gift but losing all of them is a horrible curse. How would anyone expect you to move on and forget the pain? I’m not at all surprised that grandfather had episodes several times and even spent years at a mental institute. Now it was all clear why.

Some moments later, he got up again and put the photo with the lily on the grave. He didn’t hesitate before he took a step forward to the last grave. He let out a sigh. He looked at a new photo which showed a laughing guy sitting on the floor, half of his face covered by his hoodie.

“Kim Namjoon, my dear friend,” his voice came out hoarse as he started to speak. “You were always like the leader of the team as you took care of each of us. You liked to tease us when we made a mistake but never forgot to support us whenever we needed encouragement. I guess you put a good balance between strictness and affection. Even if the younger ones liked to make fun of you and your hilarious dance moves, you couldn’t really mind. You liked to make us laugh and know that everything’s going well,” he stopped and pursed his lips a little. My heart always melted a bit when I heard the beginning description of grandfather’s friends but immediately became icy when he continued. The case of Namjoon was no exception.

“You were an orphan; your parents adopted you when you were only 6 years old. You spent your whole life at an orphanage and began to work in the hope of renting a flat for yourself. You worked at a gas station, helping customers but people looked down on you, especially after hearing those rumours about us. Some even stated that Jungkook was hit by either you or me and some said that we encouraged others to commit suicide. The worst was that they began to think that we would follow them, that we would also commit suicide and almost waited for us to do so. They feared you at the orphanage and you started to fear yourself as well. I remember having a talk with you one day about the future. You said that I needed to survive, no matter what. To prove them wrong. I had no idea then that you said that because you wanted to end your own life,” he shook his head in disbelief and his whole body was trembling. 

Even though sunshine was filling up the afternoon silence of the graveyard, everything was grey for me. I didn’t feel warmth, I didn’t feel happiness, I only felt pain and sorrow. I couldn’t imagine that I would ever commit suicide but under such circumstances, I quite understood why these boys did. Not only did they have to wake up each day for the absence of their friends but they also had to bear the gossip and people around them. Not only did the world abandon them but also people who should have helped. What kind of wicked game was it?

“One day, you were left alone working at the gas station and no customers were in sight for a longer period. So you casually lit up a cigarette, then throw it onto the ground and let the flames unite with fuel. According to the CCTV cameras, you perfectly planned it because there wasn’t any sign of fear or regret on your face. By the time the neighbours noticed the fire, the gas station had already exploded. The firefighters could put off the fire but they couldn’t save you. You left me without saying goodbye, just asking me to survive,” his voice shook a little as the last words left his mouth. Tears were streaming down his face, slowly and augustly. He still remained invincible, he still stood there like a wonderful state of art.

“Thank you for being the glue within our friends. Without you, we might have fallen apart but because you were always there, we maintained our relationship despite any arguments and the growing tension as our friends were leaving. Thank you for always encouraging us to keep going and helping us to find our ways. We needed a compass like you to know where our map is leading us. Even though you left us, left me, your last message was important and I never forgot what you said,” he sniffled as he put the photo and the last pile of lily on the grave. He remained silent for a minute and didn’t even budge a bit. “Thank you for being with us, Kim Namjoon,” he broke down into tears and heavy sobs again as he said goodbye to his last friend.

He crouched down, burying his face in his hands while he let out all those tears and pain which he held back during the previous year. Even if he didn’t make noise, even if he didn’t scream violently or yelling at those graves, it was still extremely difficult to look at him. He was hurt, he was broken and he was all alone. His friends left him and nobody could feel the way he did. Nobody could understand him as well as they would have done if they hadn’t died. He was struggling, he was dying every single second, yearning after his friends.

“You all left me by 13th June and I couldn’t do anything but suffer. I missed you and it hurt so much. The pain was unbearable but every time I thought I would give up, I remembered what Namjoon had said and lifted my head up. Because people needed to know what kind of friends I had. What beautiful and brave friends accompanied me throughout my younger years. You were my youth and the moment I was left alone, it was all gone. I know that you are never coming back again,” he cried out in pain and didn’t move for the next 30 minutes.

Chaos erupted in my head as I also fell onto the ground. I cried so hard when I remembered for what grandfather had always said to me. It all made sense now.

Youth is never coming back.

EPILOGUE

“Grandpa?” I asked hesitantly as we were sitting on the bus, heading back to my parents’ house. It was, I believe, almost half an hour after we had both let out all our emotions.

“Yes, Nari-ah?” he looked at me curiously, furrowing his eyebrows in question. His eyes were still a little bit teary and swollen but so were mine. I don’t remember crying so hard for so long all my life before. I must have looked scary and terrible but I didn’t mind.

“I have some questions,” I stated confidently but the reluctance in my voice didn’t go unnoticed. I didn’t know whether or not I had the permission to ask questions but I was undoubtedly curious. “Would you mind answering them?”

“I would be surprised if you didn’t have questions,” he responded and his face slowly dissolved into an affectionate smile. “Of course I wouldn’t mind answering them. Go ahead!” he encouraged me and even pressed my hand gently which he was holding for some minutes now. We didn’t talk after we had left the graveyard but grandfather’s hand immediately found mine. His touch soothed my nerves a little and I guess he wasn’t the only one who needed reassurance.

“Did you make those polaroids?” I started, still trying to erase all those delighted faces from my memory. It hurt so much. Knowing how little did the world need to push them off the cliff. One moment, they were together, laughing freely and teasing each other and in the next minute, it was all falling apart. They were gone, one by one, until grandfather was left alone, in the abyss of endless sorrow.

“I’ve made them myself,” he nodded slowly and pondered over for a thought. “I got a camera from my parents when I turned 18 and I always tried to capture our happiest moments. As I was rummaging through a cupboard last week, I found these polaroids and thought about giving them to the boys,” he continued absent-mindedly and the fact that he still called his friends ‘the boys’ made my heart ache. He was right, they were still boys when they left him, but it was heart-wrenching to think about it.

“Okay, then,” I gulped and mustered all my courage. “Who was Boyeon? Was she Jimin’s love?” I inquired and a slight twinkle appeared in his chocolate-brown eyes.

“Ah, yes, I forgot that you don’t know her,” he massaged his temple nervously as he realised that I had never even heard of Boyeon. It wasn’t a surprise since there was a big chapter of grandfather’s life that I was never permitted to read. Yet, now that he shared it with me, maybe he could also answer some of my questions. “Yes, indeed she was. But I guess they were more than lovers, they were almost soulmates. Their bond was so strong and despite Jimin suffering after Taehyung’s death and pushing her away, Boyeon never once thought of leaving him. They met a year before Jimin died and we were so happy they found each other. Boyeon was a truly wonderful young lady; smiley, optimistic, cheerful, childish and a little bit cocky. We ate together several times as she always cooked meals for us and she actually liked spending time with the 7 of us,” he continued and a kind of bittersweet nostalgia seemed to have taken hold of him. He was smiling sheepishly, simply out of the sudden joy that the memories triggered.

“How is she doing now?”

“Well,” he rubbed his chin, probably wondering how he should phrase what he wanted to say. “I had a phone call from her last week and she said that she was doing just fine. But if you want to know, she could never fall in love with another man after Jimin had died. She was beautiful and captivating indeed, lots of boys wanted to approach her but I guess she never felt the way with them than the way she did when she was with Jimin. I believe that’s what they call ever-lasting love,” he said absent-mindedly and turned to face me again. I think it was obvious that was only my second question and not the last.

“How did you know about how your friends died? I mean, in Jungkook’s case, you wasn’t there when those guys attacked him,” I gestured intensely as I tried to let him know what I didn’t get. His narration was so real, like he saw everything with his own eyes but it was impossible.

“Well, in Jungkook’s case, I only know about this particular detail because after they had filed a police report about the accident, those boys also admitted what they had done. They felt shameful because he died after they had beaten him up, so they wanted to report themselves. As for Jimin, her mother was the one who found him in the bathtub and every sign and the doctors’ examinations implied that he had drown himself. It was the same with Yoongi and Hoseok; the investigations showed that their disorders were the cause of their death. And for Namjoon, it was the CCTV that revealed everything,” he looked out of the window while he answered but I couldn’t blame him for it. It must have been so difficult for him, even if it happened decades ago. Even if I was only listening to the boys’ stories and not experiencing it, I was still in the state of shock and I assumed that I would be for a long time.

It was maybe the most sensitive topic which I was about to broach but I couldn’t hold it back anymore. It was time for me to ask about him.

“And what happened to you? That’s why you were at the mental institute, right?” I looked straight into his eyes which suddenly widened.

“How do you know about that?” he wrinkled his nose nervously but his tone wasn’t abusive, just merely curious.

“Grandma told me once,” I admitted with a sheepish smile but he didn’t seem to mind it. I was always a bit nosy and when I once freaked out about grandfather’s mysterious atmosphere, she shared this little detail with me. It was not too long before she died and I guess it’s one of the reasons why I would have never wanted to ask about his youth.

“And your grandmother also told you that she was a nurse at that mental institute and that’s how we met?” he glanced at me but I couldn’t even muster a single word. My jaw dropped and my heart missed a beat. I mean, I knew that grandmother was a doctor but she was working at a hospital as far as I could remember. “Before she became a doctor at the Yangji Hospital, she was working with me and other patients at the institute. I couldn’t make sensible decisions then, so my parents got me out of university and decided that it would be the best if I stayed at a mental institute. I stayed there for 6 years. Your grandmother was my consultant and helped me through all those dark years,” he smiled thankfully and still didn’t let go of my hands. 6 years. 6 friends. It couldn’t be a coincidence.

I didn’t want to ask more about his years at the institute because it must have been a hell for him. I didn’t want to dig too deep and there was still a lot of time for us to talk about it or at least I hoped so. However, this confession explained why grandmother and grandfather’s relationship was so strong and admirable. They were always close and didn’t even raise their voices during any kind of argument. They were patient and considerate towards each other. As far as I could remember, they had a long and happy marriage.

“And why do you always carry lilies with you?” I asked as my last question but it piqued my curiosity from the start. “This has something to do with the fact that my name means lily?” I glanced at him shyly. My name was Nari which meant ‘lily’ in Korean and knowing that everything had a meaning in grandfather’s life, I was suspicious about the flower as well.

“Well, you know people always bring lilies to the loved one’s graves. But do you know why?” I just shook my head. I had no idea. “They say that it symbolizes that the soul of the departed has received restored innocence after death. This is also why your name means innocence and purity. I just wanted to protect you from all those terrible things that my friends received by suggesting this name to your parents and they somehow accepted. I hope you don’t mind,” he coyly scratched the back of his neck and looked at me, his eyes full of fear. Love sprung through my veins and I felt my heart melting after his affectionate words.

“No, I don’t mind. Actually, I love it,” I bobbed my head thankfully and gave him a thankful gaze. He smiled back at me and when we got off the bus, we still didn’t let go of each other’s hands. He needed me just as much as I needed him. He shared my secret with him and so I shared my youth with him.

[xxrainstormxx]

Request: unsub targeting women who are brunette-believes they're witches and burns them at the stake after putting them in white dresses. Agent is dating Aaron or Spencer, gets kidnapped, team arrives just after unsub starts the fire where she is tied to the stake. Agent suffers burns to her feet and Hotch or Spence care for them after. (Thank you!!)

2The Witch Hunt. Aaron Hotchner x Reader.

Warnings- fighting, talk of death, kidnapping, injuries, burns, witch hate, some cussing.

I’m a witch so this was a little difficult to write. Sorry it took so long. Words: 5,253

“When change cometh, she will bring peace at her back. She will not bend to your will; you must bend to hers.” -Adriana Mather. How to Hang a Witch. 

(Y/N)'s P.o.V

Things were quiet for the first time in what felt like a week. Aaron, Jack, and I were watching movies together. It was a quiet Saturday and I really enjoyed that, especially since it was one of those weeks where Aaron hadn't been home so it was only me and his son. Aaron and I had been dating for about 7 months, I figured that moving forward was the best way to handle our situation. I worked from home as a website coordinator for major companies who just hadn't caught up with the technology wave, which was the polar opposite of Aaron's job. He was constantly gone, and in danger. I sighed softly, it was my idea to move in so soon. He didn't exactly love the idea at first but after I told him it could be good for Jack to have someone in the house it made him feel a little better, and since life is too short especially for him it was best to skip too much in between fluff. Life is a mess and yet I was content with the life I had chosen. "Opie." Jack said quietly to me. He had become like a child to me and I wasn't exactly read to be a parent so an Opie was next best thing I guess. "what is it Jack?" I asked softly "I want some snackies" he said quietly "please can I have some?" I just nodded and smiled nodding "Of course you can buddy. What kind do you want?" I hummed softly as he thought softly "How about some gushers" I suggested to him and he gasped nodding quickly "Gushers!" He yelled excitedly making Aaron let out a very rare laugh, a gentle smile resting on his face. "gushers!" Jack grinned bouncing on the couch as I walk to the kitchen. I sighed standing up onto my tiptoes to grab the box of gushers off the top shelf. Aaron said to put all the junk food up high so Jack couldn't reach it easily, but what he forgot was I struggle to reach sometimes depending on the shelf. It was a pain in the ass. I squeaked quietly as I felt a hand on my hip and a man pressed against my back. "Jesus Aaron, don't scare me like that" I snorted softly leaning into his touch closing my eyes. "sorry (Y/N), I figured you'd need some help since the unhealthier snacks are on the very top shelf," he hummed closing it and swaying with me happily. Sometimes I forgot just how romantic Aaron actually was, it wasn't the laying out flowers on valentines day, or calling me cheesy silly things, just sweet. He held me when he felt I needed to be held, spent as much time with me as I could, never made ridiculous accusation. He was an adult and we had an adult relationship. It was the first one I had too, so to say it was refreshing was a slight understatement. I really loved Aaron but I wasn't quite ready to say that yet. "Daddy! Opie! You're missing the movie!" Jack called making me laugh "He's right. We should go" I hummed sweetly pulling Aaron to the couch handing Jack his Gushers. I cuddled into Aaron's chest thinking about what to make all of us for dinner. I was tired of having takeout because that was what Jack and I ate when he was out on a case. This last case was a fairly easy one. A few murders here and there. Yes it took them a week but the guy was clever and kept getting out of custody, so I was told. It was scary how many bad people were out there and how you just had to narrow down the bad to the worst, and then take your pick of those sickos. "So-" Aaron began ever so thoughtfully. I've been thinking and I think it's time, you meet the BAU" That sentence alone made my heart skip a beat. "Really?" I grinned. The BAU was his family, a whole different world, and meeting them would mean he was sure of where this relationship was going. That was the best feeling in the world. "Yeah. I think we both know this relationship is going well, and I feel good enough to tell them. What do you think?" He questioned and I nodded quickly "Please! That would be so wonderful Aaron!" I squealed hugging him.

As we talked excitedly the phone rang, more specifically Aaron's hand held rang. My heart dropped because I knew what the deal was. He answered with a stern "Hotchner" as he always did. It scared me how fast his mood changed sometimes so sweet and happy, to stone faced mean man in seconds. I guess it was his way of coping with the job and everything it had put him through. Aaron's history at the BAU was nothing to scoff and and I knew better than to question his job or authority within it. I just sighed "What kind of takeout do you want tonight Jack?" I questioned the small boy softly who hummed "Chicken!" he grinned and I nodded sitting back slightly disheartened "That sounds yummy." I hummed. "right. Alright, be there soon. Thanks JJ" he said hanging up "I'm sorry. The good news is, I don't have to leave town. Bad news is this guy is so active we might need to stay at the Bureau for a night or two." He said looking to me with a frown. "Go." I smiled gently "go be a hero, and when you catch this guy. Make sure he knows he fucked with the wrong team" I whispered the last part in his ear. He grinned kissing me gently, the encouragement was always something he appreciated, I knew that much for sure. I kissed back holding his face as he stood up. I didn't want him to go. I knew he had to, I knew it was important, and I knew not to take it personally but it was still hard to watch him go every time. "I really have to go (Y/N)." he muttered against my lips making me whine. "Just. One more minute." I sighed as he pulled away putting on his jacket. "You know want to but I can't. You know that" he sighed kissing Jack's head and giving him a big hug "I'll see you in a little bit buddy." He said softly. Even when he was telling the truth it still hurt just a little, Jack was probably the strongest kid I'd met. He had become so used to his father leaving, he missed him every single time, but he sat brave sure his dad would come back the hero he knew he was. And that was what kept me strong. A little boy so assured of his father that you couldn't help but be too. I just sighed softly lost in my thoughts as Aaron left, I tired to keep a really open mind about it. His wife had left because of his job and I didn't also want to do that. It was a demanding and dangerous job though and the idea of him being gone for so long and maybe not coming back leaving me with his son? It made me feel sick. Worry was always on the forefront of my mind when he was gone. It was the worst sometimes. I started to fill a pot with water since I figured some macaroni for lunch would be good. "Jack! How do you feel about macaroni for lunch?" I hummed softly to the boy, who didn't respond causing me to be confused. 

I just sighed and set the pot down on the counter, and went to check on Jack wondering if he had wondered into another room. "Jack?" I called out into the almost empty apartment. I blinked walking into Aaron's study with a loud sigh. I wondered if he was 'working a case'. I learned that was what you said when you needed him to safety. A good way for him to hide, I was surprised, I remember that was when he told me about his late ex wife. I had just moved in with him and he was panicked and looking for Jack. When we had found him he smiled widely saying "sorry daddy. I had to work a case". It was sweet until Aaron had to explain the emergency plans. He told me he just couldn't take anymore chances. I just sighed as he told me the story of what happened to Hailey, and shook my head smiling when he offered me an out. "I'm not going anywhere Aaron. I care a whole lot about you, and danger? It's a given." I told him, we hadn't even come close to saying I love you. It was so early on that saying it felt a little wrong. We still hadn't actually, it was one of those things we were both scared to admit. "Here I am Opie!" Jack called from his bedroom making me smile and walk to him "Hey buddy. How does some mac and cheese sound for lunch?" I knelt down with a smile. "Yeah! We get to save some for daddy too right?" he asked "Of course. Come on. Lets go, you can play in the ki-" I stopped when I heard glass break "Actually, while I make lunch, you... uh you, daddy needs you to work the case with him okay? Keep working till daddy or I comes and gets you." I said softly kissing his forehead. He nodded and got up running off to his safe place and I grabbed a bat from his room slowly walking towards the living room. The picture of me and Aaron had fallen off the table. I let out a soft sigh and picked it up and went to the kitchen to get a broom to clean the glass. I set the picture on the counter and hissed in pain as I gently nicked my finger on a larger piece of glass. "Shit..." I hissed starting to wash it, I decided to get Jack after everything was cleaned so he wouldn't get hurt. "How did that even fall off the table. I didn't think it was that close to the edge." I muttered to myself. I shook my head gasping in shock as I was grabbed causing me to scream. My hair was used to pull my head back and I was faced with a masked man. It wasn't a ski mask but instead a plastic mask. I hissed and screamed turning myself around tangling my brown hair in the process. The man very clearly displeased with my actions shoved me into the counter causing my hair to fall over my face. "Stop struggling" the stranger's gruff voice commanded making me shiver with pure fear as he stepped closer grabbing my neck. 

I was so scared I was going to die I did the next best thing and grabbed the pot of water slapping him across the face with it ignoring the water. I stumbled out as he yelled in pain not even thinking straight. I could have grabbed a knife but I instead went for the phone. I was about half way there when I felt a blunt object causing me to fly forward into the table. I didn't feel the pain I was far too scared not to mention that my body was pumping adrenaline like crazy. I hissed sitting up searching quickly for anything. I found one of Jacks toys that was just a little too sharp but not sharp enough to harm, unless you were using it like I was. I screamed loudly using the toy to take out his fucking knee. He screamed falling to the ground long enough for me to discover I literally broke the phone under me when I fell into the table. I stood trying to run away from the broken side table and batshit insane man trying to grab me. I ran to the other side of the couch trying to trick him into following my path so I could make a B line for the kitchen. I need a knife more than ever, I couldn't leave to get help. There wasn't a guarantee he wouldn't follow and if he didn't follow for whatever reason that could be putting Jack in a seriously dangerous situation he didn't need to be in. I gagged at the smell of this man, he smelt homeless and like cigarettes. There was another smell I couldn't place but it was absolutely terrible. Add a years worth of whiskey to the mix and you had the man standing in my living room. "Come here bitch." He hissed "You need to pay for your crimes." now, the problem is I never committed a crime. And i wanted nothing more to scream and cry, but Aaron said never to show them fear, or give them what they want. So even if he did kill me, I wasn't letting him get any satisfaction from it. He came at me and I ran grabbing a glass shard from the counter and a knife, I stabbed at him blindly yelling, and cursing. "Get away from me!" I snapped, I missed the stab to the chest and only got his arm. Gasping for air I tried to grab another and screamed as a bag was put over my head, he shook the knife off like a god damn champ. I let out one final plea for help before everything when black.

With Aaron. 3rd person P.o.V

Aaron silently wondered if he really needed to be here. If it was actually a case that his team needed to take. He wondered if he could just shrug off JJ saying it wasn't actually priority, and he fully planned on it until he saw what was on the screen. It was just about enough to make him sick, there were four skeletons on the screen all of them had a pile of long brunette hair next to them, all wearing a white dress that was scorched to hell. It was almost nothing, it was a lot of messy cloth but you could just tell what is was. He sighed sitting down, it was local. He hated it, he hated how close it was to his own home. How close it was to Jack and (Y/N). He called the house with a frown before everyone else got there and it freaked him out slightly when it went straight to voice mail. He wondered silently if the battery had died, he hadn't changed it in a long time and had a bad habit of leaving it off the holder. He really was concerned, but tried to keep himself composed. And so when everyone came in he held his same stoic face. Spencer though was definitely the first to notice something was off though. He was good at his job like that, so when he asked if something was wrong it threw Aaron off slightly. "Hotch?" Derek questioned after noticing as well how off he was. Emily also noticed but decided not to press the issue as JJ walked into the room with a sad smile. "Time to get this show on the road." Everyone knew that it was time for the worst part of their jobs. Figuring out what they were too late to stop.

"This-" JJ gestured to the skeleton on the screen "Is Anna Beekly. She was reported missing three days ago and turned up two days ago as you see her now." She said quietly and pulled up two other pictures. They looked almost exactly the same as the previous victim except the first one seemed to have a cross in the picture. "All of these women were believed to have been taken by the same person and killed exactly the same." JJ said "and all of them had one thing in common while alive" she stated putting up the pictures of the alive and smiling women. "They were all brunettes." she sighed. "Well that takes victomology out of the way" Emily said quietly "Its odd, no one decomposes that fast and the bodies are badly burned but if he wanted to dispose of the evidence why wouldn't he keep trying instead of dumping them." Rossi mumbled blinking "Unless he isn't trying to burn the evidence" Spencer suggested. Aaron looked sick. (Y/N) was a brunette, sure it was a common hair color but the idea scared the hell out of him. "What do you mean?" Derek asked patting the now very quiet Penelope Garcia's back. "Well, maybe he's burning them alive." He said quietly "Look at the dresses and how they're burned matching up to how their body is burned. The fire's hottest point is at their feet." He said pointing out all the facts. "And look at the first picture" Aaron continued "It seems like hes burning them on it. And after the first dump it didn't feel right to leave the cross with them so he stopped" he frowned

"So what your saying is-" Derek began "-We have a witch hunter" Rossi finished scowling. Aaron nodded. "Penelope. I need you to look up anything and everything these victims may have had in common and if they knew or met the unsub. Now. Before we even leave." Aaron hissed. He was getting nervous and antsy. He hadn't even received a text that everything was alright from his girlfriend. "Yes sir" Penelope yelped tapping like mad at her keyboard "Okay.. Okay um..." she stuttered "all these women had online stores. And were connected to a man who's user was Olsin24, and that user traces back to a fake email address I can't track but he was the last one the victims had contact with" she whimpered softly. Everyone was a little shocked by how snappy Aaron was all of a sudden, it wasn't like him to have mood swings especially ones that made Penelope worried. "It looks like he only messages and meets one person at a time since he only has correspondents with the three women and a fourth." She said tapping quickly "Who's the fourth?" Derek asked raising a brow "She's our next victim and we got to help her before anything else" he said firmly "Already on that my sweet" she grinned and pulled up her laptop onto the big screen "Her name is (Y/N) (L/N), she works as a social media manager, and met up with this man three days ago to discus getting his business online." she hummed pulling up the picture of Aaron's girlfriend making him sick to his stomach "Where does she live? We need to get there immediately" Emily said standing up adrenaline already pumping. "She lives.." She pulled up the address and her face dropped. "With Hotch..." She blinked in surprise as everyone turned to the pale man for an explanation. "She's my girlfriend..." he mumbled "I was going to tell you all about her later." He mumbled "But we don't have time for that. She and Jack are alone at the house and our home phone is dead. We have to go" he stood and ran out to the SUVs everyone following "Hotch scored" Derek said to Emily before hitting him and running after them.

(Y/N) P.o.v

I woke up dizzy and confused at the very least. There was one blissful moment where I had forgotten everything that happened. I only wondered if Jack had brushed his teeth before we went to sleep, and not about the fight, and the mess, the knives and toys. I almost forgot about how I felt like my head was splitting and two and thinking Aaron would be home soon. But when I opened my eyes instead of questioning my surroundings I started to sob quietly, as all the memories flooded back and I was left in a cold room with water dripping down the roof. It smelt like death and I realized I was in a cage. One of those cages you'd put a husky in when it was bedtime and you didn't trust them to not shit in your room. I whimpered realizing I was tied up and pretty lost. The feeling in my wrists was gone and I was sure if I could see them they'd be purple but as they were behind my back I couldn't do much. Until I remembered a trick Aaron had taught me. You aren't normally supposed to be able to get your hands from behind your back to in front of you, but with enough bending and flexibility it was easily possible. I slowly worked and sighed in relief as I could see my hands. I began to bite at the rope hopelessly tugging on it even if to just loosen it enough so it would be less painful, silently panicking as I heard the jiggle jangle of keys down the hall.

I nearly started sobbing again as the man stepped into the cage "If you wanted them looser you could have just asked" He muttered unforgivably and started to loosen them but not taking them off. "Sit in that chair" He muttered stepping aside giving me room to crawl out. As I did I silently contemplated if I could run, looking at the disgusting green chair that looked as if it'd been thrown up on and smelt like cat piss. He grabbed me shoving and killing any hope I had of escaping. "We need to cut your hair. You'll burn to long if we don't" He said quietly and sighed basically inhaling it making me wince away fro him. I had never been so disgusted in my entire life. I moved away from him "Shame, it was so pretty" he moaned into it causing me to gag involuntarily. The body knew what it wanted, and it did not want this. "what.... what do you mean by,, I'll burn too long?" I winced regretting the question the second it came out of my mouth. "You're a witch..." he sneered. "I'm n-not a witch... a-and even if I wa-was. Witches aren't bad. They just want to do good things and live life wit-with good vibes. It's j-just a religion lik-like any other one." I whimpered softly as he threw me in the chair ignoring my pleas for mercy. I was human, that was it. I needed to humanize myself, Aaron told me that if I do that it may appeal to him "M-My name is (Y/N), I-I'm 39 years old, I have a boyfriend named Aaron who cares for me a lot, and he has a little boy." I whimpered, it hit me that we had met. "R-remember me... J-Jacob remember me? We met the other day" I cried softly "Yeah. But your hair, it's the devil's color. We can't let a witch like you walk aroun' runin' lives and such" he shook his head. I whimpered as I felt the brush start making its way down my hair. "Brushing makes it easier to cut" he muttered. Am I going to die here?

With Aaron 3rd person p.o.v 

Aaron nearly busted down his own door and went into a state of shock at the scene of his apartment. He quickly ran up to his study "Jack? JACK!" he yelled as the rest of his team followed shocked as well. He went to see if Jack was in his hiding spot and there he was peacefully napping. Aaron quickly picked him up hugging him, he yawned in response sleepily looking up "Hi daddy. Opie said you needed help working the case and not to come out until she or you came back" He yawned looking around "Can I goes back to sleep now?" He mumbled earning a soft nod from Aaron as he handed him off to JJ. He quickly got up and went to investigating. "This was some struggle, the table is broken and so is the home phone. There's a knife on the ground over here along with a bloody toy. There's broken glass but no picture" Spencer mumbled "He must have broken it to distract her so he could catch her off guard, and it didn't work very well" he muttered. It damn near killed Aaron to hear about his girlfriend being talked about like a victim. He'd had this happen with Hailey and he wasn't ready for it to happen again. "The picture is in here. Seemed like she was trying to clean it up. Maybe she worried someone was in the house, saw it was just the picture and decided to clean up, not knowing someone was actually here." Emily suggested as she yelled from the other room. "There's some blood and a lot of water all over the floor. But the pot is in the sink. (Y/N) clearly didn't put it here, and the glass has been moved to the trash, but there blood on the counter clearly someone cut themselves on it cleaning it up" She hummed confused. "The question is, who's really doing the cleaning?" She muttered. "Is that even important?!" Aaron snapped "What is important right now is finding (Y/N)" he muttered "Look. We're missing a knife. She had to stab him meaning there has to be a guy out there in need of medical attention." He snapped again, being way too on edge. "Hotch" Derek grounded him with a sigh "Look..." he said "I know you're very involved with (Y/N), but you need to calm down. Step outside okay?" He mumbled, worried for the man who looked like he might just break the other. "Fine" He hissed going out to his son, leaving them to look through the apartment. It came up clean. Except for one thing. A hand print on the table, bloody and clear as day. "Lets get to it." Emily said blinking.

(Y/N)'s P.o.V

I stared at the pile of hair the bastard chopped off crying softly picking up strands. I was proud of my hair and it was a different kind of violation, I was in shock and I felt sick. I was so caught up in my thoughts I didn't even have time to recognize that Jacob had come into my cell. I was completely terrified, I didn't know what he wanted, and I didn't know how to appease him. "What do you want!" I sobbed. "Why won't you let me go!" I screamed crying out in pain as he grabbed me by the face pulling me off the ground roughly. I whimpered in fear, unable to stop myself at this point. The pain was real, horrifically real, and that's what fear became. "Admit to your crime and maybe God will have mercy on you" he hissed spitting on my face. I winced my lower lip quivering "I haven't done anything" I sobbed "I'm not a witch. I'm just a woman!" I screeched as he threw me to the floor. He threw a dress at me "What do you want to eat? It'll be your last" he mumbled. I cried softly, "I... I want... some..." I thought about my first date with Aaron, it was simple but I could be myself. I ordered a burger and fries, with chilli to dip the fries in. It was the best, the food was mediocre but Aaron was attached to it. I wanted a little bit of him left. I sniffled "can I write it down for you?" I asked. He nodded handing me a pad and pencil. I wrote the order with a sniffle, handing him the paper. He took it leaving, and I immediately felt empty and sad. I needed to write to Aaron and Jack. They didn't know where I was and if this guy continued to bring victims here, someone was bound to find it and give it to him for me. That was all I could do, that and put on the dress. If I tried to escape lord knows what would happen. 

Mass chaos P.o.V

Aaron paced in Penelope's lair just waiting for a match to come up. He was monitoring (Y/N)'s credit card, any online history from Olsin24, if he messaged someone else that meant (Y/N) was already dead, but Aaron didn't want to think about that. He needed to continue working off the belief that (Y/N) was alive or else he might just loose his mind. He needed to find her and fast, he couldn't let anything happen to her. "Sir! We have a match!" Penelope said quickly "Jacob Harrson! He's a 51 year old man! And he was spotted... at a restaurant. He used (Y/N)'s credit card 12 minutes ago" she swallowed a lump in her throat "I'm sending you the address now." Aaron could have hugged her but right now he needed to focus on finding his girlfriend so he ran the team following.  As they loaded into their cars, (Y/N) was being pulled from the floor and towards the field. The dress flew behind her and she kept stepping on broken glass from what she assumed were beer bottles. The SUVs going as fast as they could sirens blaring. The idea of (Y/N) being dead was at the front of Aaron's anxious mind, he felt sick and so did she. She was being pulled through a backyard and tied to a cross. She felt sick watching as he slowly added more and more kindling. "You're going to be okay. God will have mercy. He always does." Jacob said, brushing his thumb across her cheek making her gag. They pulled up to the house guns out and they were ready to bust down the door. The BAU was ready to actually solve a case super fast the idea not dawning on them that if they were wrong, (Y/N) was dead. But her screams and cries for help caught Aaron's attention the flames and smoke being seen from the back yard. Aaron ran back Derek following quickly. 

The fight that followed was too blurry for anyone to remember but Jacob was on the ground nearly dead and Aaron was pulling (Y/N) off the cross quickly. "Shit. Baby it's okay. It's okay you're safe" He whispered crying and holding her. She just cried "I can't feel my feet" she whispered gagging. "I can't do anything, am I moving them?" she whispered Aaron looked down nearly gagging at the sight. (Y/N) had fourth degree burns, it had only been a few minutes but that was enough apperently. The bone shone through the skin around it red, the blisters bursting and the crisp skin around the bone charred beyond repair "MEDIC! WE NEED A MEDIC!" Derek yelled as Aaron tried to distract (Y/N). "Its okay. Don't think about it. We'll get you taken care of. You'll be home soon, you, Jack, and me can all watch movies, and it'll be fun." He watched her eyes light up. She nodded slowly "okay... I'm tired." She mumbled "Not yet. Okay? Just, keep looking at me" He whispered the stretcher back. Aaron knew everything would be okay.

"I am no more a witch than you are a wizard. If you take my life away God will give you blood to drink" -Sarah Good.

[olliedollie1204]

for future reference

Virgil works at the reference desk. Logan is looking for a very specific book.

Pairings: Platonic Virgil and Logan

Word Count: 3,613

Tags: Librarian Virgil, Kid Logan, (very loosely) implied but not shown romantic Moceit

based on that one tumblr post that is maybe the cutest thing i’ve ever read? also, Logan mispronounces some words because he’s Babey, so I included a guide at the end to clarify what he was trying to say.

also i meant to make this short and simple but i tripped and came up with an entire new AU, so hopefully if y’all slam that mf like button I will find the energy to write the sequel

(Read it on AO3!)

Working at the reference desk was cool. When you walked through the main door of the library, you’d never suspect that nestled beyond the rows and rows of adult nonfiction, far away from the busyness of the community room or the chaos of the children’s section, was a neat and well-tended desk, behind which sat just one man.

That one man was currently alternating between scanning the sea of tables and chairs in front of him, and reading a cheesy romance paperback under his desk. Listen, he had an image to maintain, okay?

Virgil had always liked the solitude of a good library, almost as much as he’d liked the books themselves. Despite spending many long hours hidden away among dusty shelves when he was younger, he'd never thought about actually working in a library. He wasn’t a people person, and libraries, unfortunately, tended to attract people; so when he found out there was a position where he could get away with isolating himself behind a computer monitor all day long, where his main form of social interaction was helping patrons fix the printer approximately nine hundred times a day, where he could read or play Temple Run or just sit still and daydream for hours on end? He was sold.

He supposed he had to thank the library’s set up for his lack of work; truly, most people never made their way this far into the building, and those who did were usually just looking for a place to sleep for a few hours, so it wasn’t uncommon for him to go an entire shift without speaking to a single person.

It had looked like today was going to be the same, with Virgil halfway through his shift and having only spoken to one patron who was looking for the bathroom. He had just gotten to the part in his book where the farmhand and the farmer’s son were trapped together in the barn during an unexpected thunderstorm, shirts dripping wet and faces flushed from humidity and passion (and maybe Virgil had read this one once or twice already, don’t worry about it).

It was a perfectly normal day. Until the kid showed up.

“Excuse me, sir?”

Virgil certainly did not jump about a foot into the air at the kid’s sudden appearance, but it was a close thing. The librarian quickly sat up in his rolly chair, dog earring the already well-worn novel and shoving it back under the desk.

“Uh, hi,” he replied, gazing down at the child in front of him. He was small and scrawny, with wildly scruffy hair and a large pair of glasses on his face. As Virgil sat up taller, he was able to see that the kid was actually tiny, his chin barely reaching past the edge of the desk. Despite his small stature, he had an oddly serious look on his face.

“How can I, uh, help you?” Virgil asked haltingly.

“I need to find a book about baby names,” the child informed him plainly. His quiet, high-pitched voice felt completely at odds with the grave importance he seemed to place on his request.

“Oh?” Virgil said for lack of a better response. He quickly scanned behind the kid, looking for an adult that might’ve misplaced their incredibly somber toddler, but he quickly brought his attention back to the child in front of him as he nodded.

“My dads told me that I’m going to be a big brother soon and I need to find the names for my baby twin brothers who we are taking from a woman in the city because she is a sugar-ette and she is giving us her babies to keep,” the child replied in one long breath. Virgil blinked at the sudden influx of information.

“Ah,” he replied, absolutely nailing this conversation with this random, unaccompanied baby. “Let me… look that up for you.”

He paused for just a second before jerkily turning on his monitor, opening to the library catalogue’s search engine. Instinctively he opened the filter and clicked ‘search for keywords’ and typed ‘baby names’, until he looked down at the… really small child in front of him, like damn, were all kids that small?

“Um. How…”

How old are you? How many letters of the alphabet do you know? How stupid am I gonna look if I send you to the checkout desk with an armful of dense, high-level books about etymology?

“How high is your reading level?” he settled on. To his surprise, the child puffed out his chest in pride.

“I am five and three quarters years old and I will be going into kindergarten in Set-member and Dr. Picani says that I am reading like a kindergartener and I even can read first grade books, too.”

Okay. Virgil didn’t know who Dr. Picani was, but that wasn’t important. Kindergarten to first grade reading level. He switched the filter to adjust for that new information, but he was quickly met with the realization that the kid was looking at him for… some sort of response, because that’s how conversations work, Virgil, come on.

“That’s cool,” he replied lightly. Lucky for him, the kid didn’t seem to mind his lack of social graces. He just nodded, rocking back and forth on his heels as he watched Virgil type.

“And my Daddy gave me a bunch of chapter books for my birthday and I already read them all because that was last year and he and Papa said that for my next birthday I can get some more chapter books but I hope they are mit-sery books because I like the mit-sery books most of all. Dr. Picani told me that’s because I like to collect and organize information. I like it when Papa reads the mit-sery books to me, even though I can read all by myself, because he is always bad at solving the mit-sery and I have to explain it to him every time.”

At first, Virgil had merely been listening with a polite interest, nodding a little as his eyes scanned the page for what books they had checked in, but as the kid continued to talk (and Virgil was seriously starting to wonder if he ever ran out of breath), he realized he was now listening with a genuine interest. This kid seemed pretty smart for his age, even with his tendency to mispronounce words in his rush to get them out of his mouth, and it was honestly kinda endearing. This coming from Virgil, who was running out of excuses as to why he couldn’t help out with any of the children’s programs that the library hosted in the community room twice a month.

He pulled his eyes back to his computer. “Okay, so, um, it looks like we’ve got a couple books that you might want.” They had more than a couple books about baby names, of course, but Virgil really didn’t wanna hurt the kid’s feelings by giving him a book that was too difficult for him.

“I’m gonna write the titles down on this piece of paper,” Virgil continued, pulling out an index card and one of the weird tiny golf pencils that were at every desk in the library for some reason. “Here’s what the book is called, here’s the last name of the person who wrote it, and here is the number of the shelf where you can find the book, okay?”

He finished writing and slid the paper across the desk to the kid, who hesitated for a moment before taking it.

“... Thank you,” he said stiffly, turning on his heel and marching away. Virgil wasn’t gonna look away until the kid was out of his sight, but to his surprise he stopped just about ten feet away from the desk, looking between the paper in his tiny hands and the tall rows of shelves.

Virgil stood up suddenly, feeling like an idiot. He’d just told an infant to go look for one specific shelf in a giant room of identical shelves. Alone. Fuck.

“Hey, kid,” he called softly, moving around his desk and hurrying to the child. The little boy turned to him, eyes wide behind his glasses lens.

“How about I help you find those books, okay?” Virgil asked, trying not to tower over the tiny child. The kid looked around for a second before nodding quickly.

“Okay, I think that is a good idea, because I know where the books are in the playzone but I think this li-berry is really big and— and maybe I’d get too lost and my dads are scared of me being lost and so I don’t wanna make them scared,” he finished, looking down and scuffing the toe of his shoe against the carpet.

Virgil raised an eyebrow at the end of the kid’s sentence. “Do you know where your dads are?”

The kid nodded quickly. “They’re having storytime in the group room!”

Virgil nodded. He knew there was an adult book club happening in the community room that day, so that definitely made sense. But still, he leaned down, catching the boy’s eye with what he hoped was an appropriately stern face for the circumstances.

“Do your dads know where you are?” he asked. As he expected, the kid began to look slightly guilty, scrunching the hem of his navy polo in his hands.

“Um…” he started. It was the first time Virgil had heard him pause between his words. “Well, technically, they told me to stay with the li-berrian, and they thought I was gonna stay in the playzone with Ms. Dot, but technically, if I can stay with you then I am with a li-berrian and so I’m not in trouble.”

There was a note of self-satisfaction in the kid’s voice, like he’d just solved a riddle as opposed to trying to explain why he disobeyed his parents. Virgil got the feeling that this was a kid who knew how to use his words to his advantage.

“Okay,” Virgil replied, gently pulling the paper out of the kid’s hand and scanning what he’d written. “We’re gonna go look for some books, but then I’m taking you back to the children’s section— uh, I mean the playzone— and Ms. Dot is gonna watch you until your dads are done, deal?”

The child nodded, watching Virgil with intensity, and the librarian gently ushered him to the side and led the two of them down a row of books.

“What’s your name?”

“Logan,” the little boy replied, running ahead a little and turning to wait for Virgil to catch up. “What’s your name?”

Virgil reached Logan at the end of the row just as he answered, “Virgil.”

Without warning, Logan darted ahead again, reaching the end of the next row before turning around to face him. “Daddy says I should call the li-berrians Mr., Ms., or Mx. What are you?”

“Mr. is okay,” Virgil replied, a little bemused by his childish bluntness. “And be careful, okay? I don’t want you to trip and hurt yourself.”

Logan trotted back to Virgil, walking backwards for a minute so he could look at Virgil while he talked. “I’m sorry for running, but I really want to find a book about baby names because my dads are busy making the babies’ bedroom and buying all of the baby clothes and toys and ex-cetera and I want to be a good big brother and I want my baby brothers to have names that are good but my dads are really busy and they don’t even know what they want to name the babies yet!”

Virgil smiled at the indignation in Logan’s little voice. Of course, he knew there were far more important preparations to make when expecting a new child (let alone two new children at the same time), but to a child as young as Logan, the name was probably the most important decision to be made.

“Well, they should be on the next shelf over, so let’s—”

Logan took off before Virgil could finish his sentence, running halfway down the row and looking at Virgil expectantly.

Virgil scoffed, an amused smile on his face. “Yeah, yeah, I’m coming.”

As he entered the row, he began scanning the numbers on instinct; he knew these stacks pretty well, but he didn’t have them memorized.

“Okay, 929.4,” he muttered to himself, bypassing books about genealogies before coming to the section for baby name books. “Here they are.”

Logan came towards him, standing on his tiptoes as he reached his arms up high.

“Mr. Virgil, may I please have the biggest book, please?”

Virgil looked back at the shelf, immediately seeing which book Logan was talking about. He pulled it out, holding it in both hands as he scanned the cover.

“‘Ten Thousand and One Baby Names For You’,” he recited, passing it down to Logan. “Is that enough names to choose from?”

Logan’s eyes were wide, struggling to open the heavy book while still keeping it in his arms. “I never even knew there were ten thousand and one names!”

“Same,” Virgil replied, helping Logan open the book without damaging it. “I think this book has lots of names from all over the world, plus some super old names from the last century.”

“Like the 1990s,” Logan said, nodding seriously, and Virgil had to pretend to cough to avoid laughing outright at the kid’s earnestness. He turned back to the shelf, pulling out a thinner yet still dense book.

“And this one is called ‘The Story Behind the Name’,” Virgil explained, holding it down to show Logan. “It tells you more about what the names mean, where all of the names came from… stuff like that.”

He held the book out for Logan to take, but to his shock the child was looking at him with something akin to distress.

“Do names mean things?”

Virgil blinked. “Oh! Uh, sometimes? Not really. But some names have things that they used to mean, a long time ago, but a lot of people don’t know what they meant. Like—”

He hastily flipped the book open to the ‘L’ section, skimming the page before he found what he was looking for.

“Like, ‘Logan’, for example, is an Scottish name,” he explained slowly, “and it apparently means… uh, ‘from the hollow’? Which, I don’t even really know what that means, so. It’s not that important nowadays.”

He looked back at Logan, who was looking into the distance with a pensive look on his face.

“But what if I give them a name that means something bad,” he pondered slowly, and Virgil’s stomach swooped at the idea that he’d just given this kid something to worry over.

“Well, here,” he said hurriedly, holding the second book out to Logan. “If you take this one, you can check that the names you pick mean good things. Some people like to choose names that remind them of something good, like nature or history or— or their favorite book characters.”

That perked Logan up, causing him to eye the book with a new interest. “Really?”

His gaze flicked between the second book, and the much larger book that he still held in his arms.

“I think I should take both,” he said after a long moment to think. “Just in case.”

He smiled up at Virgil, who literally couldn’t stop himself from smiling back if you’d paid him. Logan was just too darn cute.

“Well,” he said, “how about I carry your books and take you back to the playzone, and you can get started reading these before you check them out?”

Logan nodded, somewhat reluctantly handing Virgil his large book as the two made their way out of the nonfiction section. “That is a good idea, because I am already checking out a lot of chapter books and my book basket is full and so I think my dads will help me carry these books to the checkout counter because they’re really big books.”

“They sure are,” Virgil said conversationally, holding a hand out to stop Logan as another librarian walked by with a cart. Before he could take another step, however, he felt something small and soft wrap around his free hand. Virgil looked down to see Logan holding his hand in his own tiny grasp.

“Papa says I shouldn’t hold hands with strangers,” Logan informed him, idly swinging their hands together, “but I don’t think we’re strangers because I know your name and you know my name and you’re helping me carry my books because you are a nice li-berrian.”

Virgil felt an inexplicable surge of protectiveness over this child he’d met only fifteen minutes ago.

“Sure,” he replied softly, letting Logan continue to talk as the two walked hand in hand back to the populated side of the library.

He almost didn’t want to interrupt Logan when they did finally arrive at the playzone, but he wanted to make sure this kid got back to where he was supposed to be before his dads found out he’d left. Dot looked at him from behind Logan, her eyebrows raising at the sight of Virgil a) not behind his reference desk, and b) attached to the world’s chattiest five year old.

“Hey, Lo,” he gently interjected when Logan took a breath, kneeling down to be on the young boy’s level. “I’m gonna set your books down with your book basket, okay? Where is that?”

Logan paused, eyes flitting around the colorful rug. “Um… it’s… oh! It’s right there!”

Virgil’s eyes followed where Logan was pointing. There, on the ground next to one of the large plush sofas in the reading circle, was one of the library’s book baskets. From here, Virgil could see at least a dozen junior chapter books poking out of the basket.

“Oh!” Logan exclaimed, darting forward and grabbing the handle of the basket in both hands and tugging it back over to Virgil. “Mr. Virgil, look, I raised my hand and asked Ms. Dot if I could please have the storytime book to check out for a little bit because I liked it a lot, even though it’s not a mit-sery book, but it is about cephalopods and those are octopusses and squids and ex-cetera, and she told me to turn around and the shelf behind me had tons and tons of books about cephalopods, and I picked out this book because it has pit-chers but it’s not a pit-cher book, it has chapters, too—”

Logan flopped onto his butt in the middle of the carpet, pulling out each book one by one and explaining to Virgil exactly what it was about and how many chapters it had and how he couldn’t wait for bedtime so he and his dads could read them all together. He chattered on and on and on, and Virgil didn’t even realize when he joined Logan in sitting cross legged on the floor. He didn’t have to talk much, but every now and then Logan would actually pause to breathe, and Virgil would ask another question that set the young boy off onto an entirely different spiel that lasted another ten minutes.

It was so different from working at the reference desk, quiet and hidden and isolated. Different, but not bad.

“Mr. Virgil?”

Logan’s voice was suddenly quieter, and it snapped Virgil back to reality. He looked at the kid, who was looking at his own tiny hands folded neatly in his lap.

“Yeah, Logan?” Virgil asked. “Are you okay?”

Logan nodded. “Yes, thank you, I’m okay. I think you are maybe the nicest li-berrian ever.”

The sincerity in his little voice nearly made Virgil reel back in shock.

“Really?” he asked, and normally he might be embarrassed about how insecure his voice sounded after receiving a compliment from a five year old, but Logan nodded immediately.

“Yeah,” he replied. “Ms. Dot and all of the other li-berrians are nice but I think you are the nicest because I broke the rules and you didn’t tell my dads and you gave me the name books for my twin baby brothers and you let me hold your hand and I like talking about my books and you liked hearing me talk about them. So I think you are— I think you are the best li-berrian I ever met.”

Logan fell silent, looking down at his lap and fidgeting with his shirt hem, and Virgil was honestly a little speechless.

“Oh,” he said slowly. “Um, thank you, Logan. I think you are… the best reader I’ve ever met.”

No sooner were the words out of Virgil’s mouth that Logan looked up at him with wide-eyed shock.

“Really?” he squeaked. Virgil was literally going to get a cavity from all of this sugar.

“Yep,” he replied. “You’re smart and kind and you care a lot about your baby brothers. Your dads must be very proud of you.”

Each word of praise was brightening Logan up bit by bit, and he switched to sitting on his knees and bouncing up and down.

“Will you play checkers with me?” he asked, hands flapping in excitement. “I always want to play checkers but Ms. Dot says I’m not old enough, but you’re definitely old enough, right?”

Virgil laughed outright at that. He thought about his reference desk, sitting unoccupied on the other side of the library. He looked at Logan.

“Sure, kid,” he replied, standing up with Logan’s book basket. Logan grabbed his free hand, and Virgil let him lead them both to the game table, Logan already explaining the rules in anticipation.

Yeah. Different, but not bad. Not bad at all.

~

Post notes: As promised, here's the guide to Logan's incorrect words!

Sugar-ette: Surrogate Set-member: September Mit-sery: Mystery Li-berry: Library Li-berrian: Librarian Ex-cetera: Et cetera Pit-chers: Pictures

[hwallout]

our little secret - csy (iv)

summary: as a CEO of one of the country’s most powerful companies, you had your secrets to success. no one ever gained power without ruthless, filthy and unfair play, it’s all okay if no one knows right? well, what happens when your little secrets fall into the hands of someone you can’t get rid of that easily?

words: 7,1k

genre: angst, drama, some fluff if you squint

warnings: language

early an: honestly,,, is this worth continuing?

first part

second part

third part

The remark had different meanings for the both of you. Seungyoun was speaking his thoughts, but not exactly clear enough to be understood immediately. There was a hidden message behind the strong wall of his words, but the heir wouldn’t allow it to be known before the time’s right.

You looked at him with attentive eyes, pupils slightly dilated due to the sudden change of light. The moon carefully caressed Seungyoun’s features, making his skin glow bright. It seemed as if the heir wanted you to interrogate further, and with the curiosity that tickled your mind, it was only natural to do so. For whatever reason, the tiny voice whispered that it might just be what you were expecting all along - the door through which one would be able to regain control.

“What do you mean?”

“The drinking. I’m not an alcoholic, yet look at me” Seungyoun blurted out. There was a quiet but audible laugh coming from his end, which contrasted your sudden disappointed expression. Little did you know that Seungyoun wasn’t laughing because he was amused. The male was in disbelief, because even in such a state, he managed to hold his ground and lie.

The heir poured himself another glass of wine, the big black bottle now empty. He reached underneath the table and pulled out two things – another smaller bottle and one more transparent glass. Once opened, the aroma from inside of the bottle entered your nostrils almost immediately. It was strong and alluring, just tempting to reach for and taste. Seungyoun filled your glass and stood up, grabbing the other bottle by the neck and walking inside to throw it away.

The song playing changed but a new melody followed the same feeling. Calm and slow notes only immersed you more in the view, a rustling city that seemed so little and easy to crush from this high up.

Once Seungyoun came out, there was a little bluetooth speaker in one of his hands, while the other held his phone. A sincere smile caused by emotion one could only be able to describe as pride, was a rare sight on his features. The man sat down and sighed out loud after placing the two objects on the table.

“You know, this isn’t exactly where I saw myself a couple of years ago. Simply said, I still can’t see myself in a position of a future CEO”

This time though, as if some drastic change happened, Seungyoun approached his thoughts from a different angle. The tone used was unlike any other you’ve heard before. It wasn’t stern or emotionless, no, on the contrary, it was full of a certain something. You took a sip of the dark liquid, shivering at the taste.

“I always wanted to do music” He mentioned and you nodded along, already familiar with the fact. It wasn’t rare that the media pulled out that card when speaking about the heir. Blamed for being uninterested in business or praised that he’s doing well despite wanting to pursue a music career. Sometimes the only emotion one could feel while reading those was pure pity for the man. Could he really not do what he loved?

The melody changed pace. Your body unconsciously swayed back and forth, carried by the rhythm. The piece was so beautiful that it caused sadness, for you’ve been missing out on it for so long. Every beat was hitting just the right places in one’s mind and heart, awakening a thousand other feelings as it progressed. Unintentionally, your eyes closed and you relaxed back into the seat.

Soon, a soft voice accompanied the melody, and with careful, beautful words, only made the song better. The male singing had a mesmerizing voice, hushed and breathy to fit the current rhythm. Visible goosebumps formed on your arms, a smile sneaking up to beautify your facial features.  

Then, out of nowhere, that exact voice - just a little bit louder - sounded only a meter away.

It didn’t take long to catch up on the fact that Seungyoun was singing along. What took a moment to process was that Seungyoun’s voice matched the one in the song. Every single note, pitch, whisper was the exact same. Shivers ran down your spine in realization, but you didn’t dare interrupt the showcase just yet.

Once the last few beats faded away, the male turned around and locked eyes with yours, a huge smile on his lips, pearly white teeth bidding their hello. His happy expression contrasted yours, which was one of pure surprise.

“I made that” Seungyoun whispered. Short silence enrolled right after, but it wasn’t anywhere near uncomfortable. It was just a moment you dared take to properly swallow down the information that Seungyoun was actually seriously working on his music. A certain feeling welled up in your chest, caused by pure admiration for the man who still pursued his dreams, despite everything else.

“That was... pretty good if I’m being honest, Seungyoun. Good job” You replied, praising the other for the first time. The male looked at you staggered, as if the compliment was something much more serious, and maybe, for him, it was.

Without any more words exchanged, you stood up, taking hold of your glass and walking towards the railing. Leaning against the handrail, you continued staring into the distance, still mesmerized by the overall view. Silence once again filled up with a calm melody, you heard Seungyoun shuffle in his seat, before standing up to approach you. Taking a generous sip of the strong beverage, you felt another shiver overtake the body. The drink was something you’ve never tasted before, for it had a pretty strange, sour, yet addicting taste.

“You know...my father and I... I was always a disappointment for him” The heir spoke with a calm and collected words, which was somewhat surprising due to the amount of alcohol he consumed. Seungyoun didn’t look at you, but he was well aware that his every word was being listened to.  

“I was the creative kid, with a great voice and feeling for composition. I’ve never really been interested in what my dad was calculating or making business calls for late in the night. It never appealed to me”

You listened, although not exactly interested in the topic. Truthfully, you paid attention not to be rude more than anything else. In the end, the man was speaking about an emotional and serious experience for him, so really the least one could do was listen. Taking another sip, you looked at the other, noticing the little frown on his lips.

“When I wrote my first song and presented it to my parents, it’s an understatement to say they weren’t pleased. My mother had to shield me from his harsh words of discouragement. I still remember every single thing he has said” Seungyoun’s voice broke at one point, but he tried to cover it up with a forced cough. The heir was a decent businessman, but actor? Not so much.  

“You can imagine how a kid with broken dreams feels like” At that, Seungyoun broke a smile. A pitiful, weak smile, that still held that certain, hidden emotion behind it.

“I’ve built this empire, expecting it to grow stronger in the future. I didn’t throw away my whole youth to not have a responsible heir take after me! I’m not going to accept my son screech into the microphone when he can rule the world!”

Seungyoun’s words suddenly seemed to hit a certain spot inside of your heart. Gulping down what was left in the transparent glass, you went to pour some more before returning. The little ‘break’ allowed you to take a few deep breaths and calm down the heart that was unreasonably getting sad and empathic. It took Seungyoun a few seconds to continue with his talk, the man playing insecurity about continuing further which you dismissed with a soft hand gesture.

“Over time, you learn to be silent and take it. There’s no other way, really. You’re obliged to follow up and continue what someone else has started in such a situation. But... it hurts more when you’re guilt tripped into it as a child”

Another long moment of silence enrolled. The chill wind grew stronger, caressing the warm surface of your skin in a hurried manner. The alcohol flowed freely through your bloodstream, already having a strong effect on the heartbeat that quickened and mind that opened. You’ve never been someone who can handle a lot of alcohol well, but still far away from a lightweight. Often, you’d drink just enough to feel just a little carefree, but that line seemed to have been passed long ago. Surprisingly, it took two glasses. Who knows what kind of wine Seungyoun had at home.

A feeling of guilt bid its hello. Suddenly, the weight of words became far too important and noticeable. You remembered the times you’ve intentionally tried shaming the man in front of his father, not aware of the consequences they had. One voice whispered that those were asshole moves, something you should be apologizing for, while the other yelled that you shouldn’t be backing down and caring so much. The mind was walking a path that branched into two and it had no idea which one to take.  

The one that whispered appeared close and intimate, speaking slowly, softly, yet louder as you took another sip. The second voice seemed more distant as time went by, it yelled and tried to warn of the possible consequences, but it was so, so far away.

“I... I’m sorry...” You muttered quietly, unsure if the words should reach the heir’s ears. Unfortunately, they did, for Seungyoun turned to face you with one eyebrow lifted and a smirk on his lips. There it was, the true emotion surfacing. You could’ve left it at that, but without much reason, decided to continue.

“I must’ve affected and fueled the fire with my words in the past... I’m... I’m really sorry, Seungyoun” Your free hand moved and took a hold of his, feeling the contrast in temperatures between the two bodies. Seungyoun’s look turned more curious, but only to hide the sly one hiding behind. Despite it all, his chest squeezed tight, the space inside becoming way too small for the erratic heart. It encouraged the man to act up on the emotions he’s trying to dismiss and replace with something fake.  

Seungyoun finally found the hole that allowed entrance to the space of your mind and heart, yet restrained himself from acting on it. So far, the heir was managing just fine, finding out what were the exact weaknesses of your being, and using them properly against you. Manipulation – his face contorted in disgust at the word.

Of course, there was that voice that yelled at him for playing the game in such a way. Just your tentative hand on his forced the heir into rethinking all of the planned steps. You weren’t supposed to give in so quickly, to show the hidden, caring fragments of personality he never saw. Seungyoun suddenly felt guilty, although he tried fighting it off. The immediate battle inside of his mind, housed two worlds that clashed against each other. It was either he stuck to the plan until the end, or let fate do its job. It was either he won the game immorally, or accepted the guilt and opted not to ruin the life of someone he cared for. Success or possible elimination.

Sighing out loud, Seungyoun threw the dice and let them fall however.

“It’s okay. I’ve gotten used to it” That was such an asshole reply, and the male was aware of it. This way, he indirectly confirmed that you did have an impact, causing your heart to ache.  

Seungyoun both did and didn’t deserve this. There were many reasons that stood behind both of those statements. He was the one who approached the whole thing incorrectly, and although blindly, added yet another problem to his plate. On the other hand, Seungyoun had a proper and overall pure cause for his initial actions. The son only wanted what he thought was the best for his father, something that would finally get him the smallest bit of appreciation from the older.

After all, Seungyoun never once used the knowledge to his advantage. One call, click, or talk would do so, so much irreversible damage and it was that easy. You always jumped over it so carelessly, thinking that Seungyoun wasn’t dumb enough to ignore your threats and put his own head on the gambling table.  

But that simply wasn’t the case. Seungyoun has been putting something else on the table, something that made him look like an even bigger fool. The heir wasn’t scared of your threats and power, for he knew you just couldn’t put a bullet through his head no matter what.

The worst thing was, that you were aware of it too. You were aware of just how strong Seungyoun’s check mate was.  But it was your pride and ego that always tried pushing those thoughts somewhere far, far back, or under the mat.

The alcohol once again did its thing, blurring your thoughts and causing yet another unnecessary question to spill out. At this rate, who knows what kind of trouble you’ll get yourself into tonight...

“Don’t use my question as encouragement but...” The words were quiet once again, but the eyes that looked into Seungyoun’s were far stronger than before. Your irises focused on his, as if searching for something that would wake you up from the current state of mind.

“Why aren’t you using what you have against me?”  

“Why would I?”

Seungyoun’s reply was met with hush and a dumbfounded expression from his partner. Why, he asked? The man had the power to end the whole INVICTA empire, the power to prove the elder that his son was no little kitten. Yet... why?

You remained silent, afraid of giving away any ideas. But there was no need.

“Do you not realize my goal is not destroying your company?” The tone Seungyoun used to say those words appeared a bit too harsh. Visibly taken aback, you took a step away from the other, a breath you weren’t even aware of holding in, coming out in a form of sigh.  

“My goal is gaining my father’s trust. Everything else is just a part of the plan that will help me accomplish it” His face was surprisingly emotionless while speaking. The words seemed to have an effect on the organ inside of your chest, for it squeezed tight once before letting go. The revelation of being used was never a pleasant feeling, but you swallowed it down shamefully, tasting its bitterness.

Seungyoun turned around, facing the city and away from you. This were the facts and his selfish nature that occasionally surfaced as a defense mechanism. He didn’t want you to know the proper, complete truth, and decided to choose the rougher path to walk on. The not so irrational fear of losing you so quickly was too strong.

Maybe it was the better for you to know partial truth, which in most cases was better than none. Or, may haps it wasn’t, because from now on, there will always be that heavy feeling of being used hanging just above your head.

“I’m sorry that you were the one who got tangled into all of this, though”

The atmosphere was quiet for a little while. Both took time to take in the situation. With gazes trained far away, the two souls got lost in imaginary world. Chilly wind continued caressing the hot skin of your face, a light reminder of the present, but not strong enough of a sensation to begin sobering you up. That exact breeze messed Seungyoun’s hair up, strands flying in all directions, making him seem a little more boyish than usual.

The man wasn’t physically holding you back. He never did. You were allowed a chance to go home, rethink the whole deal over, change the gaming plan. Yet, for the first time ever, there were invisible chains pulling your legs down, making them too heavy to move. You couldn’t step away, and the other was well aware of that.

“If only you knew how delighted my father was when the news of us came out. He was so happy to see that his passive son found someone who’d maybe pique his interest for business” Seungyoun laughed pitifully and spoke with a voice that was much quieter than before. He resumed staring at the disappearing car lights in the distance.  

His words once again hit the soft spot. They had you thinking about your own parents, with a heavy heart. Losing both parents was the worst trauma you ever had the chance of experiencing; but even with that behind you, it wasn’t possible to imagine the pain of losing their support. Being distant emotionally with someone so close was on another level.

Seungyoun, intentionally or not, was playing all the right cards to awaken the emotional and trusting person that you tried so hard to hide. Especially in front of him.

This was the first time the two of you had a serious conversation about personal topics, which was a surprisingly pleasant change. It allowed you to get more comfortable and intimate with the other.  

On top of everything else, looking at the heir was a different sensation tonight. The stray strands that flowed freely through the breeze, occasionally covering his dark eyes. His skin glowed under the moonlight, the straight nose bridge emphasizing his beautiful side profile. And the soft, rosy lips that were just slightly parted, calling out to have a finger caressing over them.  

As if the desire you’ve been hiding for a while decided to come out and play with your already fragile mind. It suddenly fought all the pitiful emotions felt before, giving you all the different new ideas you’d usually be vary of.

It was the alcohol. The unknown, dark liquid that tasted better with each sip that made you feel such ways. With feelings all over the place when drunk, you were prone to sudden and drastic changes of mind. But even the tiniest pieces of sober mind weren’t making an effort at preventing your actions this time.

“Take a picture, it will last longer”

“I’d rather enjoy it live, thanks”  

Seungyoun’s cheeks rose higher, lips lifting upwards as a flustered giggle escaped through them. His hand came up over his mouth, trying to hide the smile that was too hard to control. After a few seconds, the heir glanced at you, noticing the hazy look in your eyes. Slowly, but surely, your body slowly rocked back and forth, as if carried by the wind.  

At one point, it looked as if you were going to stumble back, but Seungyoun was quick to step closer and prevent it from happening. A wide grin spread over your soft features upon feeling strong hands on your waist. The dilated irises only now proved your drunken state, as if the alcohol only now intensified its effect.

“Seungyoun?” You whispered, the grin never once disappearing. The heir hummed along, never once weakening his hold. A free point finger traced unknown patterns on his chest, the sensation slightly ticklish for the other.

“What if I... willingly helped you with the plan...” Seungyoun’s eyes widened at that, head moving backwards for an inch. It was impossible to believe that those words left your lips and entered his ears properly. The finger moved upwards, tracing a line over the male’s exposed collarbones, your gaze never once decreasing its strength. Even in such a state, you had Seungyoun on his toes.

“But!” Of course, there was a condition.  

“You have to... get rid of all the evidence you have against... me. No bullshit because I will find you out”  

At such a proposition, the male didn’t need a minute to think of an answer. Immediately, he let go of your waist, extending an arm with a smile.

“Deal” Seungyoun replied, watching the way your gaze fell to look at his hand, before they travelled back up with a mischievous grin. In a blink of an eye, your bodies were pressed against each other, fingers gripping the neckline of his loose t-shirt, pulling down lightly.  

“I’ll rather sign this way” Closing in the last piece of distance, your lips pressed against his in a hurried manner. Seungyoun was quick to reply, fingers once again positioned on your waist, trying to pull the two bodies even closer. Eventually, with one hand situated just behind your neck, the heir controlled the kiss and allowed it to grow more heated as time ran by.

Seconds turned into minutes, kisses into bites, sighs into moans. Seungyoun carried you back inside, opening unknown door and entering what you supposed was his bedroom. The man sat on the bed with you now placed on his lap, hands wandering beneath the thin shirt and over his back.  

Hungrily, Seungyoun’s lips trailed down, leaving light kisses on your jaw, before moving to the sensitive skin of your neck. Moving around, you allowed more space for the sinful bites, that the heir left behind with each kiss.  

Eventually, your fingers threaded through his thick strands, pulling with the slightest bit of force, just to have Seungyoun crane his neck back. He looked at you with hooded eyes, lips curving into a wicked smile, a silent laugh escaping through. Diving down, you excitedly began returning similar marks on his neck, listening to the most beautiful sighs and sounds that the man produced.

All while, your hips dragged down over his, but neither made an effort to take everything just a step further. Shirts were thrown down on the ground, but nothing more. It was the mutual understanding that although the moment was heated and tense, both parties were drunk, mind clouded and driven by more factors than just lust for each other.  

Therefore, the night continued with the same feeling. The only sound inside of the room were lips smacking against each other, sighs and occasional, slipup moans.

The morning brought a slight headache with itself. It was kind of unusual, for you appeared to have a mild hangover because of just two glasses. Truthfully, who knew what it exactly was that Seungyoun offered last night – probably something with a high alcohol percentage.

Your eyes opened a few seconds later, studying the small view of the dimmed room. The surface your head was pressed against was much firmer than a pillow, and it moved. Needless to say, it took a confused moment to process that you were laying down on the heir, who was still deep asleep.

Raising your head as high as possible, you studied the male. His face looked puffy, lips pouting slightly and eyelashes falling beautifully over his soft cheeks. Seungyoun’s hair was disheveled and sticking in many directions, alluring calling for a hand to run through and fix it.  

He looked like a sleeping beauty.

As your eyes travelled down, towards the man’s exposed neck and chest, you found a few deep purple marks. With eyes shut and brows furrowed, you sighed out loud, remembering the whole timeline of last night’s events. There was no doubt that similar purple rings would appear on your own skin too; a low curse perishing into thin air.

The plan on how to stand up without waking Seungyoun up demanded a few minutes of thinking. In the end, you decided on moving as slowly and lightly as possible, freezing up the moment the other moved.  

It took about ten minutes to execute, but in the end you managed. Once on the other, free side of the bed, you rolled down in an ungraceful manner with a slight thump. Laughing quietly, you stood up and looked around the room. It was huge, with similar aesthetics to the rest of the apartment. The curtains allowed only the slightest bits of light inside, making the space look incredibly dim, but light enough to see and navigate through properly.  

Although usually clean, the floor was now a mess thanks to your clothes. Despite remembering not doing anything too scandalous with the male, you looked down in panic. Thankfully, your body was covered up with an oversized shirt. Upon investigating what’s under, you noticed that fortunately, the underwear was still there, in its place.  

Opening the door of the bedroom, you clumsily navigated towards the bathroom. Locking the door behind, you stepped inside the shower, opting to take a refreshing shower. Cold water felt arousing to the hot skin, body moving in different directions to seek more feeling. The sensation elicited a soft moan and you froze, hand coming up to prevent any more sounds from escaping. You supposed the towel from the bunch of neatly folded ones in the cupboard were clean, so that’s what you used to dry off.

There was a big mirror above the sink, showcasing just what type of mess you currently were. Although clean, your hair needed good grooming, which you solved easily using a small black comb placed right beside the sink. Next, and also big reason for worry, were the expected purple marks. Fortunately, none were too high up, most of them decorating your collarbones and lower neck. Unfortunately, there was nothing but clothes you could hide them with for now. That was a job for later.

Without a toothbrush, you chose to take a little bit of the Seungyoun’s red mouthwash on the cupboard. The liquid burned the mouth, and you spat in out quick after a few seconds. Although not perfect, the mouthwash effectively dealt with horrible morning breath.

At that moment, you felt like a parasite living off Seungyoun’s necessities. Oh well.

When you walked back inside of the bedroom to pick up all the clothes scattered on the floor, there was a quiet but sensual melody playing. The small bluetooth speaker from yesterday was placed on the bedside table – exactly where the sound was coming from. Seungyoun was obviously awake, but his eyes were still closed.  

“Good morning” You chirped, faking charm while coming over to sit next to the heir. A hand came up to caress the man’s forearm. Soft fingertips touched the outlines of his bicep tattoo, before moving down to trace the circle on his inner elbow. The action tickled Seungyoun, eliciting a quiet but childish giggle.  

“Good morning, I’m surprised you’re still here” He answered, voice hushed and groggy.

“I can leave?” You answered, jokingly sitting up with intention of walking towards the door, but the man was quicker to grab your wrist. Almost stumbling forwards, you gasped, but Seungyoun was there to prevent the fall from happening for the nth time. Once you were safely situated back on the bed, he replied.

“Stay for breakfast at least?” Seungyoun’s eyes finally opened, immediately scanning your beautiful appearance. Despite the room being dimly lit, his irises shone with their own kind of light. The organ inside of his chest skipped a beat, noticing all of his marks on your skin.  

“I was planning to, but thanks anyway” At that, you stood up, breaking out of the light hold without much force. Picking up the heir’s shirt that still rested on the ground, you threw it back at him. The cloth barely flew through the air before it fell on Seungyoun’s face.

“Go shower, I’m gonna prepare us something to eat”

“Don’t burn the kitchen down!”  

“So, let’s set this clear, now that both of us are awake and sober” You said, chewing on a smaller bite of omelet with bacon. Seungyoun took a sip of yogurt, before taking a bite of his own omelet. The male hummed in appreciation at the taste, and although it was a rather simple dish, you felt happy that he enjoyed something you made.

“I will do what’s in my power to help your situation and you will get rid of any form of evidence you have against me and my company” While speaking, you lowered the fork and knife down, looking at the other with serious eyes. Seungyoun swallowed down with an audible gulp, choosing to imitate your actions and become more serious. Still, there was a smudge of yogurt left on the corner of his lips that made your façade break into a slight smile.  

Reaching out, you wiped it off in a quick motion. Seungyoun nodded and coughed to hide the embarrassment he felt.

“Yes. You said that you’ll have me found out if I don’t” The heir laughed, but it wasn’t because he found it funny, rather because the tension started to build. Your gaze turned sharp, warning the other about the situation still being quite serious.  

“How can I know that I can believe you, though?”  

“Well miss, you’re a businesswoman, a CEO, you’re supposed to know which deal is worth taking, no?” Seungyoun bit back, raising one eyebrow at you. Honestly, it should be expected that the heir will take whatever chance he gets to tease. You leaned back in the seat, sighing out loud with arms crossed. The other coughed again and straightened his posture.

“Okay, okay... how can I be sure you’ll help me though?”  

“Because I already am, although unwillingly. It wouldn’t be a problem for me to put in more effort. We’re only bargaining for 25/75 here. You’ll get my whole support and won’t have to act like a piece of shit to get what you want, while I guarantee safety for my own company. You’re getting more than you lose here”

Seungyoun acted as if he thought it over. The reasons seemed perfectly legitimate. Of course, the male didn’t have a problem with the whole proposal, from the moment it was suggested last night. It was only that he wanted to see you in action, negotiating the best possible outcome for INVICTA.

“You mentioned your father loving me. Just imagine what I can do with that information, Seungyoun. Winning the game is just a decision away from you, but so is losing. Think about how much impact I have on both outcomes. Confirm that INVICTA’s secret database won’t be in your possession, or anyone else’s for that matter, and I’ll play an angel”

The heir cocked his head to the side, prolonging the anticipation of the outcome. He watched your eyes grow more nervous, and it was almost possible to hear your hurried heartbeat. The scene was unbelievable, almost as if both of you weren’t aware that the deal was approved last night, almost as if the night didn’t mean anything.

But it did. It meant a lot. In many ways.

“Deal” Seungyoun said confidently, standing up and extending an arm over the dining table. Pleased with the answer, you did the same, accepting the handshake with a strong hold.    

After breakfast, you decided to leave. At the doorway, Seungyoun pulled you into a quick kiss, not leaving much time to process the situation, before you instinctively kissed back. The act lasted only a few seconds, but it left you feeling dumbfounded once finished. Looking at the man with dilated pupils, you bid a quick farewell and stormed towards the elevator.

It was almost 10am, which meant you a small amount of time to stop by the apartment and fix your appearance up. The Porsche roared as it glided through the streets slightly past the speed limit, the pleasant sound all too familiar to your ears. Thankfully, you arrived in a matter of twenty minutes, all but teleporting out of the car and inside of the building.

Changing into a new set of formal clothes didn’t take long, for you already had them ready in the wardrobe. Makeup took more time though, the marks on your neck appearing a bigger problem than you initially thought. The clock was ticking and you decided on covering only the ones that were higher up. Rest of the purple bruises will be hidden by the buttoned-up shirt, anyway.

Taking one last look in the mirror, you hummed in satisfaction, before heading outside.  

While driving towards INVICTA, an unknown fatigue blurred your vision. Shaking it off and turning on some music to wake up, you slowed down, entering a gear two levels lower for safety precaution.  

The strange energy continued to fluctuate even as you walked through the glass entrance of the expensive building. Every single employee seemed to be staring with a curious look. It wasn’t every day that their boss was late, therefore such circumstance piqued interest. The obnoxious sound of heels clicking against the ground served as a great distraction and stimuli to keep grounded. Which was funny, because in your eyes, the ground was slightly shaking, and in no way completely steady.

The inside of the elevator was covered in mirrors. There, you leaned against the metal rail that went around the walls, sighing out loud. It was hard maintaining a straight and stoic posture, especially during days like these. Looking at the completely normal, clean reflection in the mirror, you wondered what exactly it was that had everyone staring. You’ll hear the rumors fast if there were any, anyway.

With a soft ding, the elevator door opened in a swift motion. Eunha was standing right outside, as if she’s been waiting for the boss’ arrival all this time. Your frowned slightly.

“Good morning, Miss” She chirped and walked alongside you. The assistant had a vibrant smile on her face, an expression much different than the ones you’ve encountered at the entrance. She made no remarks about your timing, which you deeply appreciated.

“Good morning, Eunha” You replied with an unusual tone. It lacked energy and the usual upbeat. Time was barely morning, almost eleven o’clock, but it still seemed like the most appropriate way to reply to her greeting.  

Only when you flopped down into the comfortable leather chair, did your mind begin to blur. Seeking more air, you unbuttoned the collar of your shirt, head leaning back against the backrest. Eunha watched carefully, contemplating whether or not to ask about your state. Something happened to deter her from doing so, for she knew you’d tell her if it was anything serious.  

But that tiny purple patch on your now exposed collarbone perfectly triggered her curiosity. The assistant could only hope you’re going to speak up about it.

“A few people called, but no one who I couldn’t have rescheduled, not knowing you were planning on showing up today” She said, standing straight and swiping over the sensitive screen of a big tablet. Her pencil skirt was an unusual color of baby pink, different from her normal black, and instead of listening to the list of calls, you focused on the refreshing change.  

Your eyelids started dropping the more she went on, and all that you’ve picked up from the presentation was that working overtime tomorrow is a must. Currently, it didn’t matter because all that you wished for was another nap, being just millimeters away from dropping down and taking one on the desk.

“Miss? Should I leave and then come back later?” Eunha interrupted, immediately collecting all attention on herself. She was close to the desk, but ready to leave. Her head was cocked to the side while gentle hands held the tablet tightly against her thighs. You looked up at her and tried signaling something with a weird hand gesture.

“I’m sorry” You whispered, watching the other’s expression turn surprised.  

“Why, Miss?”

“I’m not feeling that well...I feel drained...” You continued, opting to massage your temples, hoping it would somehow help the situation. Eunha placed the big device on the desk, crouching down to be eye-level with you. The female had her own assumptions about your state, eyes still occasionally wandering down your neck and towards the little mark.

“Should I bring you some water or coffee? Aspirin maybe?” She questioned, tone nothing else but caring.

“You’re a sweetheart, please do” You answered, head finally lowering onto the two crossed forearms. It was a makeshift pillow, that you hoped would at least help make the short rest more comfortable. Eunha giggled at the passing compliment, whispering a quick ‘it’s my job, Miss’ before heading outside.  

Just when the fatigue was slowly getting the best of you, eyes steadily closing shut – your phone vibrated. The screen turned on, a colorful background now blurred, with a notification of a new message. With a sigh, you moved to throw a quick glance on it, interest immediately piquing at the name of the sender. It was Seungwoo.

Clumsily pressing in the four-digit passcode, you unlocked the device, reading the message in a hurried manner. Even though the man wasn’t anywhere near, you still heard him through the text, voice soft and cheerful.  

------

Snoopy – 10s ago

Hey, how about we go to our café later today? I’ll wait outside when you finish, I got discharged early.

Me

Can you come pick me up in twenty minutes? I don’t feel well and I don’t think I can drive home. We can pick up something on our way back. It’s on me.

-------

With the way your state keeps worsening as the day progressed, you didn’t want to risk driving home. At the same time, you couldn’t have asked for a better-timed moment to meet the other. Time with Seungwoo was extremely limited and rare nowadays, both being way too busy with work.

Often, the male appeared whenever you needed help. It was strange because frequently, Seungwoo didn’t do it intentionally – much like today. Sometimes, you wondered if he had a special sense that detects whenever you’re feeling even the slightest bit wronged. Those thoughts would usually paint a shy smile on your expression, easing off the tension felt at the moment.  

Without any questioning, Seungwoo texted back, saying he’s already out and will be waiting. Unconsciously, you cooed at the other.

Eunha walked in, carrying a glass with water with a dissolving tablet inside. The sound of tiny bubbles travelling up from the bottom filled the quiet room. Once the drug dissolved, you chugged down the liquid, eyes opening wide afterwards, as if to get yourself to shake of the never-ending daze.

Just then, upon a quick glance at the assistant, you noticed the direction of her eyes. Looking down at your chest, it didn’t take long to connect all of the dots. With a half-hearted, more so pitiful laugh, you motioned towards the chair. There were still fifteen minutes until you had to head out, there was just enough time for a quick recap. Eunha was quick to follow orders, hands neatly placed in her lap as she waited for the boss to talk about last night’s interesting events.

Maybe it really was the aspirin, or the excitement of meeting with Seungwoo, but you appeared more awake.

Putting on the usual stoic expression, you walked with much more confidence, greeting everyone with a strict nod and gaze. The employees bowed politely, going back to their usual work without much eye contact with their boss. No one dared to stare anymore.

Outside, Seungwoo stood leaned against his car, eyes travelling all around the place. The man wore a red silk shirt, fitting black jeans and black shoes. Needless to say, without much effort, Seungwoo was the center of everyone’s attention.

His hands were tucked inside of the jean pockets, long fingers occasionally coming up to sweep through his dark hair. It only took the man ten seconds to lock eyes on your approaching form, immediately noticing the slight sway of your hips.  

Pushing off the expensive Aston Martin, Seungwoo leaned in for a hug. Strangely enough, his arms lingered on your body way short, hold similar to a light breeze. Throughout the years, you got used to warm and strong hugs, ones that lasted a lifetime from the other. Therefore, the sudden and drastic change was nothing but unpleasant and disliked.

Swallowing the annoyance down and opening the door, you lowered down into the comfortable leather seat. It was as if you heard the white Porsche weep while you drove away in another car.

“So, what’s up?” The male asked, head tilting in your direction as he spoke. The pure, raw sight of him right now would arouse anyone. Seungwoo’s gaze was sharp but friendly, an eyebrow raised in curiosity and lips forming a teasing smirk. One of his hands was comfortably placed on the gear stick, while the other rested on top of the wheel.  

“Ah, I don’t know what has gotten into me...” You sighed, relaxing further back into the cozy seat. “I’ keep feeling more tired as the day goes on, I was late to work too. That never happens?”

While shuffling to a more comfortable position, the white shirt underneath your blazer moved, exposing that annoying hickey you haven’t covered. Seungwoo’s eyes absentmindedly moved to that area, immediately picking up the sight of it. His brows furrowed and the male reached out to pull the shirt back up, effectively covering the mark up. At least from his own eyes.

“It’s quite obvious what has gotten into you. Just tell your boyfriend to be a little bit less obvious next time” Seungwoo noted, with a voice he rarely ever used. You never caught onto its meaning, despite being good at reading people.  

The male locked his sight on the road, making sure to drive under the speed limit. The streets were bustling with people, and usually you’d look outside, enjoy the urban city, yet this time you couldn’t. Of course, it was only to the closest of friends, but why have you been so eager to tell Seungwoo that Seungyoun wasn’t your boyfriend? Why were you silently hoping that he’d speak up just so you could dismiss his statement?

“Seungwoo, he’s not my boyfriend” With a certain kind of pride, the words escaped through your lips. A tentative hand reached out and patted Seungwoo’s arm, feeling the tension of his muscles. As if externally sensitive, they visibly flexed underneath the careful touch.

“The mark on your neck doesn’t agree” The other spat again, this time with a noticeable amount of displeasure. Choosing the moment to tease the other and ease the tension, your hand that was previously on the man’s arm, moved to his sharp jawline. Your fingers gently caressed the soft skin.

“Is that what’s suddenly bothering you?”  

Seungwoo looked at you as he came to a red light, different emotions flashing inside of his irises. They were dilated, while his lips parted slightly, just barely showing traces of shock. He was ready to lie and disagree, but your thumb and point finger moved to grasp his chin.

“Would you feel better if it was yours?”

A/N: Hi! Uh this took... a lot of unreasonable time to write, I’m sorry. I was confused about what I want to do and what to write, and honestly I hope you guys still remember this fic and wanna keep up haha. Please be careful and stay healthy!

[strawberry-skies-xx]

a million reasons to let you go

C H A P T E R   S E V E N

word count: 2029

tags: eventual hiccup/astrid, slow burn, fluff, angst, happy ending, feral hiccup, hiccup whump, bamf hiccup, protective astrid, protective hiccup, interrogation, aftermath of torture, implied/referenced torture, hurt/comfort, stoick’s a+ parenting, stoick’s bad parenting, hiccstrid fluff, hiccup and toothless friendship

main masterlist | story on ao3 | next chapter >>

Gothi grumbles for all of three seconds when Astrid wakes her up from her early bedtime, but as soon as she sees Hiccup cradled in Astrid’s arms, her face sobers and she gestures to one of the extra beds.

Astrid sets him down gently, and if asked she will deny to her last breath that she runs a concerned hand through his hair, but Gothi doesn’t say anything and Astrid steps back to let her examine him.

Astrid stands there worriedly for five minutes before Gothi whirls and smacks her arm with her staff, gesturing irritatedly to a chair, and Astrid reluctantly sits down.

Shoving down the fear and worry for Hiccup doesn’t work, so Astrid spends at least an hour watching Gothi strip Hiccup’s shirt, touching hesitant fingers over what does turn out to be a brand on his chest, rubbing in lotions and wrapping bandages, all in utter silence except for Astrid’s racing thoughts and worries.

Finally, Gothi turns around and Astrid stands up instantly. “Will he be okay?” she blurts out first, without thinking.

She quails only slightly under Gothi’s reproachful look, but the elder nods and Astrid exhales in relief, feeling a weight she didn’t know she had lift off her shoulders.

And then she turns to the real issue, the one equally as pressing as Hiccup’s survival, if not part of his survival.

“Gothi,” she says hesitantly, and the healer turns from her sorting to face her. “Can you- this needs to be a secret, for his sake. Please?”

Gothi’s expression doesn’t change, and for a heart-stopping moment Astrid thinks that she’ll have single-handedly betrayed Hiccup and possibly ended his life, but then Gothi gives a slight nod and an indulgent smile. Her face turns stern just as quickly, tapping the Berk seal on a nearby parcel and glancing outside, and Astrid takes it for what it is.

Gothi won’t hide it from Stoick if he asks, but she won’t tell beforehand either. That’s more than Astrid hoped for, anyway, and now she hopes desperately that her luck doesn’t run out, and Hiccup survives.

Hiccup doesn’t wake for four days. At first, it’s from the sheer severity of his injuries - Astrid spends a good hour in the forest tossing her axe into trees when she learns that the men starved Hiccup for the week they had him - but Gothi puts Hiccup into his own sleep just so he can heal faster. She kicks Astrid out after the first morning, and she spends two days stalking around the village, glaring hard enough that everyone avoids her.

Fishlegs, however, doesn’t succeed. Astrid chases him down on the second day, pulling his Book of Dragons edition out of her clothes and dragging him just into the edge of the forest, swinging him so his back hits the bark of a tree and she holds the book up, expression stormy.

“What do you know about them?” she demands.

Fishlegs’ eyes widen. “About- about who? Where’d you get that? I left it in the forest!”

“And why were you in the forest near the cove, and why was the plant next to it burnt to a crisp? And why are there annotations that aren’t yours in the book? The Night Fury page is filled!”

Fishlegs whimpers, eyes darting around. Astrid glares, until his gaze meets hers and he closes his eyes, squeezing them shut as all his words come out in a rush.

“Snotlout and the twins asked me to go to the cove with them and we saw a Night Fury!” Fishlegs blurts. Astrid keeps her glare up for another long moment, then steps back, her expression smoothing over into the closest approximation to a neutral face as she has these past two days.

Fishlegs opens his eyes hesitantly, watching Astrid worriedly as he slowly turns to face her again, relaxing only slightly. “So… you’re not going to kill me with your axe?”

Astrid grins. “Oh, you’re not off the hook yet. Did you see anyone else?”

He hesitates, gaze darting around again, and Astrid glares again. It takes all of three seconds, in which Fishlegs meets Astrid’s glare and whimpers, for him to start talking. “There was a boy with the Night Fury. He was… defending it,” he says, and his eyes start to light up with the mystery of something he hasn’t learned about. “I’ve never seen anything like it, Astrid. He had a flaming sword, and moved with the dragon like-”

Astrid cuts him off. “I’ve heard enough. I’m assuming Snotlout and the twins were foolish enough to attack those two?”

Fishlegs nods, and then his eyes widen as he realizes what she said. “Wait, you know them- Astrid, what have you been doing-”

“Find Snotlout and meet me back here as soon as possible,” she interrupts, tone sharp.

“You know, I really don’t think-”

Astrid glares at him, feeling the anger simmering in her gut, and Fishlegs quails, nodding quickly. Astrid watches him for another moment, and then walks past him, annoyance in every movement of her body.

She has to find the twins.

“You went after him twice?!”

Snotlout glances down at Astrid’s axe, whose edges are embedded in the wood on either side of Snotlout’s head and the curve in the middle circling his neck, and then back at Astrid, whose glare is fiercer than it was when she was interrogating Fishlegs.

“Yeah, why is this important?” he asks, voice panicked with the threat to his neck. “They kicked my butt both times, well, they did one time and you did the second-”

Astrid shoves her axe closer to his throat, effectively cutting his sentence off with a yelp, then yanks her axe back with a glare and walks away. She faces the group - Snotlout, the twins, and Fishlegs - and glares at them all.

“Do you know what could’ve happened if the rest of Berk found out about those two?” she asks, voice harsh. “If Stoick found out about those two?”

Tuffnut makes a questioning face. “Well, you told Stoick and he didn’t believe you. I’d say nothing would happen.”

Astrid whirls on him, turning the full force of her glare towards him, and he goes quiet. “If they got injured,” -and she tries not to think about how they already are injured- “their defenses would’ve been down, and you know Berk would hunt them if they ever discovered, and believed, there to be a Night Fury in the forest. And the boy too!” She didn’t say Hiccup, because it was far too risky and she couldn’t trust them with his name. “He would’ve been brought back to Berk and most likely jailed!”

Under her glare and harsh words, all four of them shrink away from her anger. It’s a long moment before Snotlout finally speaks up, hesitantly and still glancing at the axe in her hand.

“You know them, though, right? I saw you talking to the kid the second time I attacked them. Or- tried to attack them. A bit difficult, you know, with all the axe-throwing and threatening-“

Astrid holds up her axe and smiles. “Would you like me to throw it again?”

Snotlout shakes his head quickly, voice rising an octave and hands raising in surrender. “No, no axe-throwing, I didn’t mean it, it was a joke!”

She lowers her axe and sees Snotlout let out a breath of relief, and then she looks at him - neutrally. “I do know them. I’ve been talking with them for just a few days.”

Fishlegs frowns. “But you called the hunt a month and a half ago.”

Astrid nods. “I didn’t have much time to sneak out and see them.” She glares at Snotlout, again. “And the last time I did, they had tried to leave. Because of what you did. The boy thought that I lied to him about not wanting to hurt him. He threatened me, and thanks to you  the trust he’d built in me was almost entirely destroyed.”

Snotlout glances away, muttering something under her breath that Astrid doesn’t care to find out, and Ruffnut speaks up next. “So what now? We have a dragon and a dragon-boy who want to leave, why don’t we let them leave?”

Now Astrid sighs defeatedly, staring down at the floor. “They can’t.”

“Why not?” Ruffnut asks.

“They did leave,” Astrid says. “I came back… and the Night Fury was all alone in the cove. The boy was injured and unconscious, so… I took him to Gothi.”

Fishlegs gasps. “Where’s the Night Fury?”

“Still in the cove. He was injured too, and unconscious. He would’ve never let me take the boy otherwise.”

“Does Stoick know?”

Astrid looks up at him. “No. Do you think the village would have been so quiet if he did?”

Fishlegs sighs. “No…”

Ruffnut frowns. “So… now what are we gonna do? If the boy is at Gothi’s… how long until Stoick goes in and asks about him?”

Astrid looks down. “I don’t know. We need to get him out somehow, but he’s too wounded to leave without more medical attention, and his medical supplies aren’t nearly enough. The dragon can’t apply medicines, either, so we can’t bring them to his cave.”

Tuffnut looks up then, out at Berk, and his eyes widen. Astrid opens her mouth-

And gets cut off by Stoick, towering over her and with a stormy expression on his face. “Astrid,” he says. “Who is the boy at Gothi’s?”

Now her eyes widen - that was a much shorter time frame than she expected to figure something out about Hiccup, and she blurts out the cover story that she hadn’t fully refined yet, because she didn’t think Stoick would find out so fast, but now it’s all she has. “I found him,” she says quickly. “He- he was injured, and unconscious, so I brought him to Gothi. I didn’t want a big deal made of it so I asked her to keep it a secret,” she adds on impulse, adrenaline and fear shooting through her. “Neither of us were going to lie if you asked, though, I swear!”

Stoick stares her down, expression unflinching. Astrid stares back, ignoring the wild pounding of her heart, and it seems like forever until Stoick’s face softens and he steps back.

He nods. “I believe ye. Come with me to Gothi’s. I want you to tell me what you know about him, and where he may have gotten his injuries.”

Stoick walks away then. Astrid shares a panicked glance with her friends, eyes wide and slightly trembling as the weight of what she has to do and lie about drops down on her, and she turns to follow Stoick.

Hiccup is still unconscious when they make it to Gothi’s, but he looks a little better - some of the bruises have faded, and the bandages wrapped around some of his cuts have stayed white instead of being soaked in blood. He’s also been cleaned, face and body now free of dirt and blood, and Astrid resists the urge to go to him and touch him, just to be reassured that he’s alive and breathing. She doesn’t know when it was that she started caring about him so much, but it’s happened and now she can’t exactly stop the tight feeling in her chest when she thinks about Hiccup being hurt.

“Do you know his name, Astrid?” Stoick asks. “Where did you find him?”

Astrid shakes her head, staring down at the ground. “I don’t know his name. I found him,” -she thinks of everywhere on Berk, because she knows she can’t tell Stoick the truth or they’ll find Toothless, and picks a location anywhere but the cove- “on the south side of the island, by the water. It looks like he’d washed up on shore.”

Stoick grunts. “When he wakes, we’ll ask him about his name, where he’s from, and what happened to him. We can’t have intruders on our island.”

Astrid nods, worry for Hiccup and thoughts about how she’s lying to the Chief of Berk making her hands shake and her heart pound. She turns away, hiding her face from Stoick.

“Yes, Chief,” she says.

next chapter >>

[perihelionicarus]

Alright, it’s long story time. I read a whole bunch of accounts of ex-cops yesterday, and they were all TOO similar to how my experience in cadets went. I think (I hope) I can shed some light from the inside about how easily corruption happens in a space like that. While you read, think about how similarly the police system works.

If you have no idea what cadets is, think of it like a junior military (ages 12-19). You get discipline training and drill training and classes about how the military works, but there’s no obligation to go into the military after. A lot of people do, though. A lot of them also go on to become cops. I was in cadets because you could get your pilot’s license without having to pay for it.

The way a cadet squadron is organized is you have commissioned officers (COs), who are actual military members and sort of oversee the whole thing. Then reporting to them are non-commissioned officers (NCOs), who are the kids, usually in their older teens, who pass a bunch of tests and stuff and achieve the rank of sergeant. At this point you become one of the “leaders” and are in charge of cadets, who are divided into sections and aim to work their way up to NCO.

Our squadron was famously pretty hard-ass about the NCO/cadet dividing line. Once you were a NCO, the other NCOs and the COs would make you delete your friends off Facebook who were cadets, and you had the “privilege” (eyeroll) of learning the NCOs’ first names. The phrase I heard a lot was “don’t fraternize with cadets”.

My friend who I went to high school with was promoted to sergeant before me, and had to delete me off Facebook. She pulled me aside at school, though, and warned me not to become an NCO. I asked why. She wouldn’t tell me at first, but after a while she confessed there was “initiation”, yeah, a fucking hazing process and the other NCOs would treat her like garbage if they found out she told me. I later found out they didn’t like her anyway, because she had spoken out and fought back during the hazing. Also because she told one of the other guys not to smoke weed while she was in the car.

I went ahead anyway, because I wanted my pilot’s license and the higher your rank the better your chances of getting on the course. I got promoted to sergeant at 17 at the same time as two other cadets.

I honestly can’t remember too much of initiation, because I’ve long since stuck it in a trauma box in my mind. I remember it involving tying our belts around our eyes, being shoved around, forced to say things, dance, and it ended with us being herded into a car and brought to someone’s house (at which point it was over). You have to realize though that I went into it fully prepared for it because my friend had warned me. I can’t imagine how scary it was for the other two who were with me.

After that, we learned their first names. They suddenly treated us like their best friends. The worst part? It worked. We were part of the inner circle.

We were then privy to the email chains. It was so long ago I don’t remember specifics, but it got pretty fucking racist, sexist, and any other -ist you can think of. We weren’t all white or straight, not everyone outright made racist statements, and it never got n-word bad, but it was still awful and we were all complicit in that the rest of us never called it out. And if you made fun of your own groups? Your respect level shot up. (I might even still have those emails, since I rarely clear my inbox).

We also basically had a no-narc policy where if one of us did something wrong--gave a kid contradictory orders, didn’t back down if we incorrectly scolded them about uniform etiquette, singled out and humiliated someone--the rest of us would not report it to the COs. But the number one no-narc policy was about initiation.

We had another initiation in the dead of winter, when three new sergeants were promoted. Their initiation was similar to mine, but they were also forced to strip down to their t-shirts while it snowed outside. One of the boys (he was only 14!!) got fed up, ran out, and called his mom to take him home. Another boy finished initiation, but was crying. For the coming days and weeks, we treated these two like less-than, ignored them in meetings, and generally treated them like shit, until they got fed up with it and reported the whole initiation thing to the COs.

I say ‘we’ throughout this whole thing because even though only 3-4 of us (out of 15-20 of us) were the perpetrators, the rest of us were fully complicit in our silence. We knew it was wrong but still allowed for it to happen. A lot of us were “good people” and treated the two boys, not to mention other cadets, just fine. We allowed ourselves as a whole to become a corrupt body because of “one or two bad apples”. Sound familiar?

Our punishment for initiation was a stern talking-to, a couple people (the ‘most guilty’, I guess) getting demotions, our parents being called, and being told to stop excluding the two boys who had reported it to them. That’s all. We were all still NCOs, and still in charge of a whole bunch of kids. My mom, notoriously strict, didn’t even give a shit. She was proud of me for not being a weakling for once. Really, staying silent was the weakest possible thing I could have done. The strongest people among us were the boys who reported it despite the threat of being ostracized by their peers.

I aged out of cadets shortly after, so I don’t know if initiation happens anymore. It stopped for a while as the COs kept a scrutinizing eye on us. But before I had even been promoted, initiation had happened for years, so it may well have started up again. That’s a lot of corruption that went unpunished. We were told that to be an NCO is to be a leader, and that integrity was to do the right thing even when no one was looking. We passed these sayings among ourselves, all believing we were the paragons of doing right. Nothing could be further from the truth. 

There is a really sinister high you get from being liked by a group of people that hates everyone else. It’s something I’ve been incredibly wary of ever since. In cadets you are given camaraderie within the NCO body, and power over other cadets. Recipe for disaster.

My point here is that I am 100% sure this is what happens with police. I don’t know if they do hazings, but I would not be surprised in the least. No matter how “good” they are, they power inevitably trip. They lose sight of what they’re supposed to be doing. Racism, sexism, homophobia, and ableism all run rampant. Their bonds with each other overshadow their supposed “sworn duty”. Every single cop is complicit in this; complicit in their actions and ESPECIALLY their lack thereof. All the ones who want to and do speak out are immediately ostracized. They’re organized by fear and not much else. There is no such thing as a good cop, just as there was no such thing as a good NCO. And it is no coincidence the sheer number of NCOs who later go on to the military or the police. 

It’s been almost 10 years, but to this day I’m ashamed of the way I acted. I’ve told this to maybe one or two people in my life. I’m sharing the story now because now is the time to see how easily “a few bad apples” can fuck up a whole organization. Google some of the memoirs of ex-cops, and you’ll see just how similar this is and just how easily that happens. So let me reiterate: power corrupts. There is no such thing as a good cop.

[razorblade180]

Lasting Embers pt28: Goodbye

Day six went by like a breeze; it was relatively quiet. The people who wanted to spend time with each other did and those who wanted to be left alone kept to themselves. Huntsman made their preparations for the long journey. The moment of truth is almost here; it’s the night of the seventh day.....

[Schnee Manor]

Weiss:*staring at the door*.......

Whitley:You heading out?

Weiss:Yeah, don’t wanna be late for tomorrow. *turns around* I’m gonna miss you. Take care of yourself okay. I’ll be back in no time flat.

Whitley:Pfft next time I see you I might be married with kids.

Weiss:That would be a nice surprise. Somebody in this family has to have kids.

Whitley:You still have plenty of time for love and stuff. Neo was really thankful for you giving her a ride home.

Weiss:*red* Not sure what you’re implying but I’m off! *turns back around*

Before she grabs the handle the door opens itself. Standing in front of the two siblings is their loving older one Winter. She’s gotten a bit up there in years but doesn’t look much different then their mom used to. White jeans and black sweaters have been her go to attire ever since she’s retired.

Winter:Hello dear sister. You didn’t think we’d just let you go off to the airship alone did you?

Whitley:*grabbing his jacket* Let’s walk there and send you off like a proper family.

Weiss:Walk? That’ll take like an hour.

Whitley and Winter:Exactly *smiles*

Weiss:.....heh *smiles* let’s go then.

[Menagerie, dockside]

Waves crash along the sand and pier as a decent sized boat makes its way to the island. The Frost family, Blake, Sun, and Ilia wait patiently for it to arrive. Jael tries to have a stern face but isn’t doing well keeping up the act; she’s trembling slightly. Her mind was is about to wonder when a hand on her back makes her jump a bit.

Dory:Sup dork, long time no see.

Jael:Dory? What are you doing here?

Dory:Lifeguard training obviously. You owe me a new whistle by the way. What’s up with everyone on the pier; going on a trip or something like that? *looking around*

Jael:Uhhh something like that. *obstucting her view* lots of boring details and stuff.

Dory:Haha, are you trying to stop me from seeing something? I’m taller than you so that’s not gonna- *spots man in a cloak*......is that?

Adam:Hm? *turns around*.......

Dory:*gasp*.......so he is alive. I knew he was your dad but....

Jacquelyn:*whispering* voice down gill for brains!

Dory:Right.... sorry

Adam walks over to Jael’s sharky friend and takes a knee. He can tell she’s a bit stiff which is to be expected. Not everyday you get to meet the most dangerous man on Remnant after all.

Adam:Hello, you must be Dory. Jael talks a decent bit about you.

Jael:*red* Dad.......

Dory:Sh...she does? Well I guess that makes since. I usually am the one giving her the prescriptions she needs. Whenever I’m around though all she talks about is you.

Adam:Is that so? That’s a bit risky.

Jael:*avoiding eye contact*

Dory:I...I haven’t told a soul about the things she’s told me. Jael has a hard enough time as it is. I’d hate to make it worse for her; I care about her.

Everyone:*smiles*

Jael:*bright red* Geez Dory. *hides face*

Adam:I believe you. *pats her head and smiles* thanks for being so good to my daughter.

Dory:*eyes widened* Of...of course sir.

Ilia:Boat is here.

Everyone starts making their way on board as as the two teens hang back for a couple seconds. Dory’s face left awe struck.

Dory:Jael your dad seems so cool!!!!

Jael:That’s because he is pretty cool. Do try your best to keep this under wraps okay?

Dory:No sweat, nothing catches me off guard. Safe journey.

Jael:Thanks.........hey?

Dory:What’s u- *kissed on the cheek*

Jael:Bye! *floats to the boat*

Dory:*red*Bye.......

Adam:She seems nice.

Jael:*nods* she’s a handful but I know nobody like her. It’s actually-

Adam:Jael?

Jael:Woah....*stumbles a bit*

Blake:You okay over there?

Jael:Yeah I think I just....just. *falls down*

Sienna:Jael! what’s wrong!?

Jael:I don’t know! Everything is just a bit....dizzy. *closes her eyes* it feels like the floor is moving.

Sun:Yeah we’re on a boa-

Everyone:.........(Sea sickness......)

Jael:Ugh, of course the first time I’m finally on a boat would be like this. Anyone have medicine for it?

Sun:Sorry kiddo, no dice.

Jael:Well this night just keeps getting better...

Jacquelyn:Float sweetie.

Jael:.... *floats* No floor no sickness. Guess I’ll be floating the whole time. Sigh.....perfect.

[Vale]

Nora:*laying in the bed* Ren you wake?

Ren:Yeah *sits up* can’t sleep.

Nora:Me either, you think Tenzen is awake?

Ren:Probably, wanna go find out?

Nora:You know me so well.

Quietly they get out of bed and make their way to his room to notice he’s not in it. As they walk down the stairs a blue light becomes visible. The tv is on as their son sits in front of it watching old dance videos. He hears them get closer but doesn’t bother to turn around; instead he makes room on the couch as they comfortably watch his first real dance competition.

Tenzen:I lost this one.

Nora:I remember it will. When the results came in you were crushed. For a moment I thought this was gonna be the last time you danced.

Tenzen:I almost did until you both took me out for ice cream. Told me that I’m still first place to you guys.

Ren:Ugh we were such cheesy parents.

Tenzen:Super cheesy, but it kept me going. You told me what I needed to hear. I......I’m gonna miss you guys.

Nora:We’ll miss you too *hugs him*

Ren:Not a day will go by when we won’t be thinking about you. *hugs him*

Renora:No matter what, you’ll be first place in our hearts.

Tenzen:.........

Nothing left to say, he couldn’t find any words. So he just held them close and closed his eyes; fighting whatever tears dared try to show up.

[Jaune’s Place]

Yujin lays on her bed with her head just off the edge. Unbeknownst to her there’s not a single person sleeping either. The weight of the week in full effect tonight. She’s kept her promise to her father and Tenzen by eating again, but tonight she found it hard to eat much. All her meals ended up half eaten, and going outside lasted only an hour. The strides she took quickly began doing the bare minimum. It wouldn’t stay like this. Soon it would be over. Soon conversations about her mother would return to the usual awkward and distant topic she was used to.

Yujin:(Tomorrow is the day they’ll leave. An entire week of avoiding her complete. Not like there was much left I had to say to her. If I go to sleep I just might wake up and she’s go-)

*knock knock knock*

........

Yujin:.........*heart nearly stops*

Yang:Yujin are you awake? I know it’s late but I thought I’d give it a shot.

..........

Hesitantly Yang grabs the door knob just as frantic foot step can be heard on the other side and the sound of a click. The door has been locked to her dismay but she quickly shrugged it off. It was expected in hindsight. On the other side Yujin simply sits up against the door not making a sound. Her legs bend as she begins hugging her knees.

Yang:That’s fine, I just wanted to know if you were still up. We don’t have to see each other; you don’t even have to respond to what I’m saying. *sits against the door* Listen.....I’m sorry this is probably the worst week of your life. It bumse out we didn’t spend time together but I understand. You hate me and I kinda hate myself too because of all this.

Yujin:.....

Yang:On the way coming home my mind was so fixated about seeing you and Jaune again. I can’t tell you how excited I was to finally see how beautiful and strong my little girl had become. *tearing up* You’ve turned out better than in my wildest dreams. I kept telling you how we were going to finally be together. If I would’ve known how the next few days would’ve turned out I would’ve never gotten your hopes up; I wouldn’t tease you by coming home like this. But I did come home, and tomorrow I gotta go.

Yujin:*quivering* (I know that already damnit. Why do you feel the need to tell me again? You’re leaving and there was no way to stop you).......

Yang:For the past week I’ve been working on something with Ruby and your dad.*hold a box* I have it with me right now; it’s for you. There’s nothing I could give that will make anything about this feel okay but maybe....just maybe.... *sniffling* You’ll see just how much I love you. *tears run down her face* I love you so much Yujin it hurts. I’m always going to love you. I....can’t believe that I hurt you like this; my own daughter.

Her sobs are clearly heard through the door. Try as she might, Yujin can’t say anything. Her voice won’t come out even with her mouth open. Every muscle in her body paralyzed with various feelings she can’t begin to make sense while all she does is listen. Not even a single tear sheds this time; crying has become so eas to her but right now there’s nothing. She can’t bring herself to let anything show. A few more minutes pass by before the sound of Yang’s tears finally stop.

Yang:Sorry, lost my composure. Well....I’ll be heading out. Tomorrow the train leaves at 10 if you feel like showing up. I’ll leave your gift by the door. *stands up*.........

..........

Yang:Goodbye....*walks away*

Creaking wood floors tell Yujin she’s actually leaving. Still she doesn’t make a move at all. Emptiness isn’t a good word to describe what is destroying her inside. Not feeling anything is was emptiness would be but she clearly feels something. It hurts, aches, everything about it makes her feel disgusting. This feeling kept happening anytime she thought of her mom and it drove her up a wall. Why couldn’t she just hate her? What feels so wrong about this situation. All those days of pondering it and she still had no answer. For the rest of the night she just sat there, alone and tortured by the feeling.

[gwydionae]

(Keep My) Back to You

A/N: My second Naruto fic in a month, and it’s even a chapter fic (if I don’t give up and decide it’s fine as a one shot, anyway). 19-year-old me would be proud. 25-year-old me would be appalled. Current me is choosing to revel in the past for a bit. Never enough Naruto and Sasuke friendship fics in the world anyway.

Posted on fanfiction.net >here<.

Teaser: Naruto just wants a friend. Sasuke will never allow himself to have one. But heavy burdens carried by small backs feel lighter when the load is shared with others.

Disclaimer: I do not own Naruto. Eventual canon divergence. Rated T for eventual mild language and violence.

Chapter 1: Classmates

"Naruto! You can't afford to not pay attention with as pitiful as your grades are! Now sit up!"

The boy in question couldn't help fidgeting in his seat as their teacher droned on about basic grammar. Learning parts of speech seemed pointless on the best of days - a ninja should care more about a kunai being sharp than whether it's a noun or a verb - so it was no surprise that he couldn't be bothered to listen on a day as important as this. To anyone else, such a cool and cloudy day would seem as dull and ordinary as any other, but this day was special because it had the potential to change everything he'd known for seven lonely years.

Today he was going to do it. Today he was determined to at long last make a friend. And not just any friend. He was stubborn in his selection: Sasuke Uchiha, star of the class who could do no wrong in neither the teachers' nor students' eyes. Sasuke, who could throw shuriken even better than those instructing him and passed all written tests with ease.

Sasuke, who very recently had been found the sole survivor of the Uchiha after the massacre of his entire clan in a single night.

Naruto absently doodled on his paper, his glances up directed less at their teacher and more at the back of the boy in front of him and the symbol of the clan of one displayed there. He may not have understood what it was like to have people he cared about cruelly ripped away, but he more than understood the result. The constant loneliness that came with an empty house left an uncomfortable, hollow feeling in his small chest, a feeling that only grew in strength whenever he saw parents picking up their kids from school or his classmates' lovingly prepared lunches. He found ways to earn attention during the day, usually in the form of scolding or jeering, but it was never enough to ignore the emptiness as he lay curled up in bed at night.

A grin slid across his face. All that was going to change today, he was sure of it. If he had even one person, anyone that he could talk with, eat with, train with, than that uncomfortable feeling would finally go away. He just had to keep an eye out for an opening.

"Get out of the way, Naruto! I'm trying to talk to Sasuke-kun!"

Openings, however, Naruto found to be both plentiful and nonexistent.

While he had of course always known the boy by reputation, now that he was properly trying to start up a conversation with Sasuke, it was obvious that none of his brilliant plans were likely to work. Naruto was eager and optimistic, desperately wanting to simply run up and chatter away. But this seemed to be the very last thing that Sasuke wanted as anytime one of their classmates shoved past Naruto to speak with him, he'd either fix them with an annoyed glare or ignore them outright. Whether the person was offering their sympathies or paying him a compliment didn't seem to matter; the sullen boy did everything he could to distance himself despite the constant crowd.

Having a desire to be alone was something that Naruto simply couldn't make heads or tails of. Being alone was painful. He had thought that, like himself, Sasuke would want the attention he was to never again receive at home. And he could offer not just attention but understanding, understanding of a life without parents or homemade lunches. The two of them would never have to hear the other complain about how unfair their dad was for forcing them to eat vegetables or boast about how their mom had promised to buy them their own katana for their birthday. They could simply enjoy each other's company without worry of any sudden pangs of jealousy or looks of pity.

But after failing all day to try and catch Sasuke in a moment where he was both alone and not shooting death glares at people, Naruto's enthusiasm began to wane. He wouldn't give up hope, of course - just because he hadn't found an opening today didn't mean there wouldn't be one tomorrow - but he'd been so confident that this would be the first night he'd fall asleep knowing that someone out there was looking forward to seeing him when he woke up.

"Ew, don't you have anything else to wear? That shirt is so dirty! You smell! Go sit somewhere else!"

He had one last chance of making that dream become reality. When classes were finally over, Sasuke would head back toward the Uchiha Compound which was tucked away in its own corner of the village, opposite from the homes of his fellow classmates. It'd be the perfect opportunity to face him one-on-one. Maybe he could even coax him into going to Ichiraku's for dinner; he didn't really have enough money to be paying for someone else's meal on top of his own, but what better way to pique a lonely orphan's interest than with free food?

With a plan set, Naruto impatiently tapped his foot as his stare practically bore holes into the clock on the classroom wall, willing it to hurry up. Twenty minutes left. Ten minutes left. Seven, five, two, one minute left...

The teacher finally announced the end of class, and Naruto leapt to his feet with a grin. This was it. He had to keep a close eye on Sasuke who had somehow already attracted a small crowd of admirers wishing him a good night. The farewells went ignored same as all the comments directed at the scowling boy that day as Sasuke steadily made his way toward the exit, Naruto keeping his eyes glued to his retreating back. He was just about to follow him out the door when a stern voice called out to him. The teacher wanted him to stay behind.

"I've taught four-year-olds less pathetic than you."

Naruto protested loudly as he got an earful detailing his latest failing test scores and lack of ability to stay focused in class. Only too late did he realize that his protesting was doing more to stall him further than help him escape, and by the time his teacher was done with him, it'd been almost ten minutes, and Sasuke was no where in sight.

Racing off in the general direction of the Uchiha Compound, Naruto kept his eyes peeled for any signs of a lone kid walking home with a grumpy face and hands shoved in pockets. Seeing no trace of him along the most direct path, with a frustrated huff, he began combing nearby streets in case his target had taken a detour.

"What's that monster planning now? Running around like a maniac - up to no good as usual, I'd bet!"

The sun was already setting by the time Naruto finally decided to give up for the night. Sasuke was surely home by now, and not only did he not know exactly which house was Sasuke's, but he wasn't sure he was quite brave enough to try and talk to the other boy in the midst of a newly made ghost town. He'd have to keep a closer eye out tomorrow for an opening. With a sigh, he began his defeated trudge back to his empty apartment.

It was by pure chance that he saw him. Passing by a still lake at the bottom of a hill off the side of the road, Naruto glanced down, eyes trailing to the end of a short dock where a small, hunched figure sat with his feet dangling over the edge.

The sight of Sasuke caused his excitement to roar back to life, and he struggled to suppress the urge to run down the hill with a cheery greeting. If he had learned anything that day - much to his teacher's chagrin - it was that Sasuke didn't respond well to unwanted chatter, and it was too late to implement his plan of offering to buy dinner. Naruto would have to start slow. He hated holding his tongue; it went against his very nature. But this moment was too big, too important to ruin by repeating everyone else's mistakes.

His mind made up, Naruto purposefully walked down the hill and across the dock, plopping himself on the wooden planks directly behind Sasuke, leaning his back ever so slightly against the other boy's.

He kept his mouth tightly clenched as he felt Sasuke's back stiffen against his own, but if there was a glare directed at him, Naruto didn't see it, and not a single word laced with hostility could be heard. Determined, he sat there in silence, watching clouds and birds fly by as the sun sank lower behind him. It was nice, in a way, he supposed. A bit too quiet for his liking, but he couldn't remember being so close to someone before without them making rude comments or pushing him away. And as the tension left Sasuke's back, Naruto's face lit up with a bright smile. It was a start.

The two boys sat on the dock until the sun had almost completely vanished below the horizon. By this point, Naruto couldn't keep his fidgeting in check any longer. Springing to his feet, he stretched loudly before turning his smile down to his still seated companion who was glancing up at him over his shoulder. Naruto genially gave Sasuke a light pat on the back.

"See you tomorrow, Sasuke!"

Not waiting for a response, he turned to leave with an awkward wave.

"...yeah."

It was amazing how one, small word could cause his chest to lighten. Feeling more alive than he could ever remember feeling before, Naruto ran home at top speed, easily ignoring the offended looks cast his way as he laughed and grinned through the darkened streets. He felt warm as he ate his dinner of cup ramen alone, and the smile was still firmly on his face when he at last snuggled into bed that night.

Maybe, just maybe his plan had worked. Maybe someone would be happy to see him tomorrow. Maybe he had just made his first friend. ____________________________________

"Morning, Sasuke!"

Feeling a familiarly awkward pat on his back, Sasuke glanced over his shoulder to see big, blue eyes and a wide grin leaning over the desk behind him. Normally he'd choose to acknowledge such a greeting with a glare, but he found the annoyance not quite reaching his eyes, and he offered up a stiff nod instead before quickly turning back around.

Naruto had never been someone he'd paid a lot of attention to. He knew of him by reputation, of course. Who didn't? Even the elite ANBU had been witnessed dragging him off to the Hokage's office on occasion. But proving himself to his father had always been Sasuke's primary goal, and therefore he had never had much time or patience to direct toward the kid with the lowest grades in the class. Besides, everyone else did that for him.

"Naruto! Stop bothering him! He doesn't want someone like you touching him, do you, Sasuke-kun?"

And yet somehow, for maybe fifteen whole minutes, Sasuke had managed to feel a sense of calm out on that dock, Naruto's back against his, a silent, firm reminder of the other's presence.

Ever since the night that had so drastically changed his life, every moment, every breath felt like a battle, whether he was awake or fighting off nightmares. He would see splashes of red out of the corner of his eyes, feel his heart pound at shadows, hear his brother's voice on the wind. Combating the fear and despair with determination and anger would work for a time, but as he reached the limit of his endurance, the weight of his guilt and responsibility would crush down on him with far greater force. The war against his threatening tears was nearly always lost when he was alone in his bed.

Sasuke didn't like going home anymore. Much as the constant nagging of his peers got on his nerves, being around them was generally preferable to the deathly stillness the once lively Uchiha Compound now offered. He often stayed out as late as possible, usually to continue his training, dreading the moment he'd once again have to set foot in a large, empty house. The lake had become neutral ground. There was no comfort in sitting there, not really, but the breeze and rippling water had a tendency to lull him into a bit of a trance, hollowing him out just enough to make it home and scrape together a quick meal before a flood of emotions could overwhelm him.

Until yesterday, that is. Yesterday had been different. It was the first time in the week or so since his brother's betrayal that anyone had simply sat with him quietly, simply shared in his existence. The silence that brought no comfort while alone had acted as a soothing balm in another's presence. Why Naruto of all people would cause such a reaction he didn't know. Perhaps it didn't matter who it was. Perhaps anyone could have sat down behind him and stirred the same emotions. Whether that was true or not, Sasuke couldn't deny his longing to return to that feeling of peace.

Abruptly shaking his head, he pushed those thoughts aside and focused on the lesson. He couldn't be thinking that way. He had to focus on more important things.

"Wow, Sasuke! You didn't get a single question wrong! Can copy off of you next time? I'm kidding! I'm kidding!"

Dropping the subject completely, however, turned out to be easier said than done. It wasn't unusual that he found himself surrounded by admirers, but he couldn't remember if Naruto had ever been counted among them. He guessed not as everyone else was doing their best to keep the increasingly frustrated looking boy away from their precious Sasuke Uchiha, not allowing him to get too close.

A part of him was relieved at his entourage's behavior. Last night had awakened Sasuke's awareness of the other boy, and now Naruto could only be labeled a distraction. If he wasn't careful, that warm, firm back could tempt him with a false sense of peace, maybe even trust and belonging. But that couldn't happen. He wouldn't allow it to happen.

And yet another part of him cried out for even just fifteen more minutes of that foreign tranquility last night on the dock had given him. He greedily wanted more of the freely offered gift. His heart was ready to betray his head for the smallest drop of water, the quickest gulp of air, the tiniest glimpse of the sun.

But his head had to win. He had to stay focused, for his sake and Naruto's. A drop of water wasn't worth a puddle of blood.

"That was amazing, Sasuke-kun! Teach me how to do that? Please?"

Everything was so much easier when people wanted to take from Sasuke Uchiha, the heir and idol, rather than give.

Sasuke hurried out of the classroom as soon as they were dismissed, foregoing his usual, lightly traveled route home for one packed with crowds. Glancing back cautiously, a head of bright blonde hair was trying desperately to keep up. He couldn't allow it. He forged ahead, quickening his pace, determined to lose his tail.

Classmates, parents, strangers on the street, all tried to stop him as he passed. He shook off outstretched hands and ignored calls of his name, wondering if such things were giving away his position. He needed to hide. A nearby weapons shop caught his eye, and he quickly ducked inside.

With every ounce of the stealth training that had been drilled into him since he first learned to walk, Sasuke hid amongst a rack of belts and holsters and peered out through the front window. Not a minute had passed when confused blue eyes came into view, straining in all directions to track down where his prey had gone. Sasuke held his breath, but he didn't have to wait long before the zealous boy darted off down the street, leaving the shop behind. A sigh of relief escaped from the nearly cornered target.

Needing to put some distance between them, Sasuke pretended to browse the small shop. The owner's scowl turned into what he must have thought a welcoming smile upon seeing the red and white fan on the young boy's back.

"Uchiha, right? You know, my daughter is around your age. She's a real cutie! Let me introduce you!"

Having no desire to meet a fussy four-year-old, Sasuke blurted out some story about being in a hurry. After a bit more clipped but polite refusing to stay, he ran out the door, heading for the nearest side street. Whether his pursuer saw him or not, he needed to get away from the suffocating crowds.

It took him longer than he would have liked to find the lake. With a sigh, Sasuke walked to the end of the dock, sitting with his feet dangling over the edge as he always did. To the casual observer, the day would have seemed barely different from the last several. But that one difference - that one difference with bright, blonde hair and big, blue eyes - had wedged itself into a corner of Sasuke's brain, forcing him to be aware of it at all times. And he didn't like it.

In a perverse way, he wished he'd seen splashes of red rather than tufts of blonde, heard his brother's voice over that of another little boy's. Death and grief were his past, present, and future, inescapable truths he could never outrun. But Naruto had the choice to remain separate. He didn't have to get in the way, push himself in front of Sasuke, inadvertently creating a seductively short path toward his revenge. No one needed to put themselves there. Sasuke wouldn't let anyone put themselves there.

His brooding thoughts were interrupted by sandaled feet on wooden planks and a small back resting against his own.

Sasuke didn't turn around. If he didn't see who sat behind him, he could imagine it to be anyone, a stranger just passing by and offering some quiet comfort. He could pretend that he was accompanied by an immortal, invisible companion, that he wasn't doomed to be viciously and utterly alone. The silence would soothe him, and he never had to confront its identity.

"It's pretty nice here. Do you come here a lot?"

His back stiffened and shoulders tensed. He ignored the question, heart and mind both imploring the intruder not to break the stillness again. Naruto seemed to realize his mistake as it was another few minutes before he tried a second time.

"What's your favorite food? I love ramen! It tastes so good, and it's nice and hot when it gets all cold out."

Sasuke wasn't even sure he'd ever tried ramen.

"There's a lot of hot food you could eat when it's cold out, idiot."

The words had left his mouth before his brain had a chance to stop them. He'd meant to continue ignoring the other boy, but something about this conversation - if you could call it that - felt off, something that loosened his tongue to a worrying degree.

"I know that, jerk! Ramen's just the best of all of them!"

But then it struck Sasuke just what was so different from every other plea for his attention. There had been no mention of his grades, his skill, his clan; no expectations about how he was supposed to react; no attempts to gain anything aside from the knowledge of what kind of food he preferred. Naruto didn't seem to want anything from the last Uchiha in Konoha, the so-called genius of their class. Only from Sasuke, a seven-year-old orphan.

The two continued to sit in silence as the realization churned Sasuke's stomach. It should have been a pleasant change of pace, being faced with someone who seemed to care little about his status. But he would never be just a boy again. He couldn't. He had to be Sasuke Uchiha, unmatched shinobi, killer of Itachi, patriarch of a nearly extinct clan.

He couldn't want what he feared Naruto would offer.

"Do you wanna go get some? Ramen, I mean. Ichiraku's has the best in the whole village, and it's not too far from here. I can pay for both of us. Whaddya think?"

Glancing over his shoulder, Sasuke found himself looking into a slightly nervous yet excited face. His heart clenched with dread, and he paused briefly before responding.

"Why?"

Safely anchored on this neutral dock, he could allow himself to steal a few minutes of serenity from Naruto. But nothing more. Anything more would be too much. Too dangerous. Too painful. His prayer that it wasn't already was an exercise in futility.

"Well, I - I've always heard that food tastes even better if you eat it with - with a friend."

Sasuke shot to his feet, hoping the trembling in his limbs went unnoticed.

"We're not friends! Now stop following me around, and leave me alone, you loser!"

He hadn't so much as glanced at Naruto before sprinting the entire way to his empty house, panting heavily as he wrenched the front door open, stumbled inside, and slammed it shut behind him. Mechanically removing his sandals and dropping his bag, he shuffled through the house until he was again kneeling in the room where his brother had cut their parents' lives short. He took a shuddering breath.

"I'm sorry. I'll avenge you. I promise I will! But I won't - I can't be like - like him. I can't gain power the way he did! I can't lose anyone else. I'm - I'm sorry I'm so weak. I'll get stronger another way. I promise. I promise! Please. I'm sorry. I'm - I'm sorry..."

It was dark when Sasuke fell into a fitful sleep on the floor, eyes red and puffy. His heart ached, crying out for the companionship he'd been offered as the vast emptiness of the compound constricted around his tiny body. But it didn't matter who the offer came from; not one of the many seeking to take, or Naruto who had only given. He would never accept.

It was impossible to be tempted to kill his best friend for power if there was no one he called friend in the first place. ____________________________________ 

A/N: I can’t for the life of me write a Naruto fic that fits with canon. Thanks, Itachi.

As always, critics and grammar police are appreciated!

Chapter 2 on tumblr >here<.

[darkwritingsnshit]

It’s Been a While

Chapter 6

Warnings: Bad Writing, dark characters with bad intentions, angst?

It had been five years that you were divorced from Hvitserk Lothbrok, five years since you had signed the papers, and not a single member of his family had contacted you in any way, shape or form. Radio silence. You supposed it was better this way, you were happy that they had never poked around in your life too much, never checked up on you or gave you a reason to hide your child too closely.

Your son had grown fast, he was a blonde little boy with striking eyes, sometimes would still crawl into your bed in the night. He was the light of your life, he was smart, quick and as much of a climber as you had been.

You worked part time with one of the charities your father had helped build, it helped children in need, and tugged at your heartstrings. You had hired a nanny and had a housekeeper that worked with Vald in the daytime if he wasn’t at preschool, you were home by early afternoon to spend the rest of your day with your little sweet boy. Five years and you had created a home out of your father’s estate, a home for you, your son, and Arne, a life for yourself, you were as happy as you had remembered. You had even adjusted to the sticky heat and the loudness of the city.

You had celebrated your five-year divorce with Arne as you usually did with a nice dinner and champagne, after Vald had fallen asleep for the night. It was not a few weeks after that, that you received an upsetting phone call while at work.

“I arrived at your house to be told you weren’t there, which was very disappointing. When can I expect you back?” Aslaug’s voice was easily identified as you lifted the phone to your ear.

“What the fuck?” You sputtered out; taken aback by the woman you hadn’t heard from in years. What was she doing? Why now?

“I’ve waited long enough to meet my grandson, tell me when you’ll be home, or I’ll go back right now.” Aslaug meant business and you could tell.

“I’ll be home at 5,” you said, already standing to leave; it was 11am.

“Good,” she sounded pleased, “I’ll see you then,” and hung up the phone.  

 You rushed home to find everything perfectly in order; Vald was playing with Cora, his nanny and your housekeeper greeted you at the door. You rushed over to your son on the carpet and kissed his head, trying not to be too upsetting.

“Did someone come by here?” you asked your housekeeper.

“I was going to tell you once you came in,” she replied, “but yes, a woman came to the gate asking about you. Long brown hair, sharp features, good looking woman. Drove a gray Bugatti, license plate read ‘ALBK’. Do you want her allowed on the premises?” That was Aslaug, without a doubt.

“No.” You responded immediately, then thought of why you had rushed home. She knew about your son, could you keep her away forever? You scooped up your son and gave him kisses as you carried him into the nursery off your bedroom. The two of you could play in there, it was safer and had just as many toys.

Five o clock rolled around faster than you had expected, the day fell away spending time with your son, eating lunch, playing games, coloring pictures, and it had grown late. Your phone rang again, ‘No Caller ID’. You ignored it until it lit up and buzzed a second time.

“What do you want?” you hissed, standing and walking away from your son, nodding at Cora to stay close to him.

“I want to talk to you, you’ve stayed away long enough dear,” Aslaug purred through your phone. “If you don’t speak with me now, I’ll tell Hvitserk that his wife was blessed, and had his son all those years ago, and that you’ve been hiding him away from his true father. He won’t wait politely at these gates like I have.”

Your heart sank as she realized she was right. She hadn’t told him yet, and she was using it as leverage. If she told Hvitserk, you knew he wouldn’t rest until his son was in his arms. He had only walked out when he believed he no longer had an obligation to you. You had stayed away for a reason, you didn’t want to be used as a puppet, or kept around as an obligation anymore.

“I’ll tell them to let you in.” You hung up, and called the housekeeper, letting her know she was to let Aslaug in.

Not fast enough you scooped your son into your arms and held him close.

“There’s someone here in the living room,” your housekeeper popped around the corner, “she’s unhappy but seated with tea.”

“Thank you,” you said, giving your son to Cora and hurrying out of the room.

 Always dressed in finery, Aslaug shone on your couch, radiating a smug energy, she seemed much too pleased to see you.

“It’s so good to see you again,” she greeted you, raising her teacup to you with a smile and taking a drink.

“What do you want?” you stood, arms crossed, not buying into her scheme. Instead, Aslaug nodded to the couch across from her and looked at you expectantly until you sat down.

“That’s not a very kind way to treat your guests, dear,” she reproached you; always a second mother trying to raise better children.

“I am here for you to listen to me. I am not here to be angry with you, though I have every right to be,” Aslaug looked stern, it felt as though she were scolding you. “You have been hiding my grandchild from me! I should be furious and drag you home right now. But I am not here to do that.” The woman went from shouting insults to a scary calm, you saw where Ivar got his temper from, and those few loose screws.

“What are you trying to say, Aslaug?” you asked her, “Why are you really here?” She was here for a reason, and you wanted to make her say it.

“I am here to take you home,” she said simply, sipping her tea.

“I’m home here, you can’t make me leave.” You were angry, “I want you out of my house!” You were standing again, pointing at the door. Aslaug didn’t make a move, just raised her eyebrow and waited until you sat down again.

“I’m not going anywhere with you, and neither is my child.” You looked her dead in the eyes. Kids had whispered that she was an evil witch when we were growing up, you were thinking that those rumors had some truth behind them.

“You can come home with me now, the easy way; you’ll come back home where you belong, your child will be raised with two loving parents in a safe, welcoming home and our family can forget these past few years of mistakes. If you don’t choose the easy way, I’ll still get you back home, one way or another.” Aslaug leaned closer still.

“Do you think I haven’t been watching you all these years, tracking what you do? I made you a promise, years ago, and now I’m making it come true. You’re coming home one way or another and so is my grandchild, my son’s son. You’re not going to take him away from us.”

You were praying that Cora had locked the doors to the nursery as you told her, terrified of this woman who was going to sink her claws into your child.

“Get out of my house.” You were shaking now, you had never been so upset in your life, this woman was threatening everything you had done in the last five years, the life you had built. “GET OUT!” You were screaming.

“Fine.” One word before Aslaug stood and made her way towards the door. “It’s your funeral.” She threw over her shoulder as her shoes clicked out the door.

[gasters-story]

Chapter 32

Word count: 2,026

Warning: Self-harm

Things didn't go as really planned for Anton today. News had yet to go out about the prince and Chara so he had no idea what he was getting not or what Gaster knew. Anton expected to just visit but he instead found Sans waiting absently by the royal scientist's door.

“He hasn't came out of his room in a while.” Sans starts to explain once he notices Anton. “I think something happened but he has yet to tell anyone.” Anton stared at the door for a moment before looking at Sans.

'Can you talk through the door for me and let him know I'm here?’ He asks the other. Sans nods and then moves to knock.

“Hey, G? Anton is here to see you.” There was a long pause as if there wouldn't be anyone responding. Sans opened his mouth to probably say something again but was cut off this time.

“Tell him to go the fuck away then.” Gaster says harshly from the other side. Anton didn't seem to care though, even it technically directed at him. Sans didn't respond to Gaster and instead looked at Anton.

“The door is one with a key to it. I'm not sure why exactly but if you really want in that's your best bet. I'm not getting in trouble with someone I will have to deal with.” Sans mutters to him. “You won't get in because of G since he's stubborn.”

'Alright. Thank you.’ Anton writes after he nodded. Sans smiled and gave a thumbs up before walking off.

“Good luck.” Anton just did a small wave to respond before starting his relatively long search. Anton didn't plan on giving up though, not until he knew what was up with Gaster. He even asked the helpers if they knew anything.

They managed to be as their job name suggested and directed him to a drawer with all their “useless” keys inside. It wasn't clear which one it was out of all the keys there besides a few definite “no”s for a variety of reasons. He ended up taking plenty of them to test on the door to find the one that works.

It was one of the last ones that made the door click. Anton smiled in relief as he dropped another key he was holding in his right hand. He was quick to open the door so he got a glimpse of Gaster quickly pulling down his sleeves. Anton wasn't really expecting it.

“Fucking great. You really managed to find a way in.” Gaster muttered before he stood up on the ground where he was sitting. He shot a glare at Anton before moving to sit on his bed instead.

The flame didn't speak back, no matter how rude Gaster was being, yet was moving over to the other. The skeleton glared at him once again but Anton still didn't take offense to it. He just grabbed Gaster's arm to roll up his sleeves.

It was littered with names and two of them were clearly fresh ones. Asriel and Chara. The others were ones Anton could tell were dead.

‘What is all this?’ Gaster had looked away before Anton could finish writing, already knowing what he was going to ask. The elemental forced the other to look at him, not planning to just take nothing for an answer. It still took a while of Gaster gazing down for that answer.

“My- mistakes…” He mutters without looking up. Anton stares at him for a moment before looking down at his cut up arms and running a hand over the names slowly. Gaster didn't show if he was affected or not.

'How exactly?’ The flame soon writes.

“They're… all gone and it all points back to being my fault.” Gaster kept his voice quiet as if he didn't want to be heard. Anton thought about it for a moment before asking.

'These are people from the war and who got ill after… I get the latter but why the former?’ Anton asked it but didn't get an answer. He just had to guess what the other believed to make him in the wrong. The flame just pulled the skeleton into a short hug with a sigh. 'How is Chara and Asriel one then?’ He asks after pulling away.

There was silence before Gaster's answer. “They're gone as well…” Anton stared at the other in surprise.

'That can't be true. How can they be gone all of a sudden?’ Anton frantically writes out. He couldn't hope they weren't though, Chara was sick after all but not Asriel. Gaster didn't just joke like that anyways.

“They're dead, Anton.” Gaster says a bit more stern this time. “They died just a while ago. Together.”

'I thought only Chara was sick though.’ Anton's writing got shaky with his hand.

“They had a plan and it just didn't work. Now they're both gone because of it.” Gaster was slowly pulled back into a hug after he was done speaking as Anton leaned against him.

The hours passed by quietly as Anton took the information in. The underground kingdom fell into despair as well once the news was announced and war later was claimed to inspire hope. Gaster didn't do much more than wait during the period after all the changes, especially of Toriel leaving with Chara's body, while Anton would visit more often to check on him. Sans didn't confront the topic like Anton and just kept his eye on the other skeleton.

The days started to feel quiet as they went by with hours and minutes of wasted time. Monsters continued as normal but didn't talk much between each other as much as they usually did until a bit later. No one wanted to confront the loss of their hope as they mourned and accepted it, eventually inspired for war on humans as their last option to leave this damp place.

Before he even realized it though, Gaster tiredly witnessed Papyrus make his first steps to Sans after being revived. The royal scientist didn't bother with it much and just kept on with the boring old days. Anton would eventually ask on his next visit.

'Who's the new small skeleton?’ He asks.

“His name is Papyrus and he is the younger brother of Sans.” Gaster responds. “That's all there is to it.”

'Though it's suspicious I have heard about him until now. I talk with Sans when I visit and he's never mentioned one or had him come with like today.' Anton writes as he continues to wonder about the new skeleton. 'Did he have babysitter problems or something recently?’

“He's just a newborn. That's all.” Gaster rolls his eyes.

'Really? Huh.’ Anton thinks for a moment before glancing at Gaster. 'I've never seen a skeleton other than you three though.’

“I wouldn't make that connection if I were you.” Gaster says maybe a bit harshly in tone but Anton hasn't cared for these past years he's known him. It's just Gaster being Gaster at this point.

'You gotta prove it wrong first then. It just makes sense to me.’ Anton gave the other an amused grin before patting Gaster's back. 'We can be single dads together otherwise.’

“No thanks.” The skeleton groaned at the thought. An arm of fire wrapped around him to give a side hug.

'Oh well.’ Anton shrugged before getting up. 'I should get going to see how Grillby is doing.’

Gaster watched him go as he waved goodbye and then let out a sigh. Dealing with people can be tiring.

Gaster let Sans be more absent or just work less when it came to Papyrus. Not like they had much to do so Sans focused a lot of attention on raising Papyrus mostly. Sometimes Sans supervised Papyrus in the labs to work and let him help out a bit by usually grabbing papers for Sans. Though that worked only when Papyrus didn't get distracted, listened, or could understand which ones. Papyrus had to always be supervised and banned from some parts of the labs for a reason.

When it came to Papyrus and Gaster's relationship, it was an iffy one. It barely existed since Gaster didn't feel like interacting with him or much of anyone at first. Papyrus started all interactions between the two, mainly when he gets bored, distracted or curious, and wanders his way to wherever Gaster was. The scientist would normally either return him to Sans and get an apology from him or give the toddler some science book for young kids that had pictures because he didn't feel like going to where Sans was.

This made Papyrus ask by pointing at said picture that caught his attention and tugging on Gaster's clothes for the other's attention. The skeleton just answered as simply as he could even if Papyrus wouldn't understand yet and he didn't want to give false information at all. He mainly wanted Papyrus to stop bugging him as they both waited on Sans.

By age three, Papyrus would try to say some big scientific words even if not always saying it right. Sans would get a kick out of it and ask Gaster but the scientist would just shrug it off. He did the same to Papyrus calling him “Ga!”, while at first sounding way too close to “da”, as much as it surprised and perplexed him. He tried to teach Papyrus early on how to say his full name instead.

Anton once stopped by while Gaster had Papyrus “reading” a book. 'How's single parenting going?’ Gaster glared at him for it, almost cursing at the other before glancing at Papyrus. He decided the other didn't need to know those words, yet.

“Maybe you should go home as the only single parent here.” Gaster retorted. Anton was only amused as he continued to crack jokes and build a good bond with Papyrus.

Gaster will only admit “teaching” Papyrus felt nice, especially since it distracted him from his own worries and Asgore's problems now that the queen is gone. It was honestly Gaster's doing if Toriel really wanted to blame anyone since he just wanted to take the souls as a solution, but he wanted to do it himself, not force it ever on Asgore. Even if it's been a year since that as well as Chara and Asriel's death, teaching at least made that feel distant. After all, he relied on his knowledge in his mind, not his problems in there.

Gaster would only start properly teaching Papyrus when he got more older and Sans had finally requested it. He had nothing else to do after all so he started properly teaching things in an easy to understand order that he could manage. Papyrus enjoyed it and even brought Gaster a scarf he made himself since he's the child's favorite teacher as the only one. Gaster wore it occasionally when hiding off in his room even if he already had a scarf to wear. His excuse was to keep warm and comfy.

It had made a while of no human falling feel longer. Gaster figured the chances were low because of either fear of monsters or no one knows about this place really. Perhaps a case of both. Maybe he should be checking to see if any have been falling but can't get out of the Ruins since the door seems locked now. Gaster has never bothered to check himself though.

The wondering about all that stopped mattering in a quick moment when one of the assistants came by to notify him. “A human has fallen down. I tried to direct them into the lab per your request but they honestly declined and went the other path. They apparently got a warning.”

“I see.” Gaster sighed as he stood up from his desk chair. “A warning huh?”

“Yes. They explained they got it from someone on the main river way.” The assistant explains. Gaster didn't say anything to that as he started to make his way out of the labs.

“Get one if the soul containers prepped for containment.” He says as he starts heading for the elevator.

“Yes sir.”

Royal Scientist Arc End

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