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sneakydraws · 3 years

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Well, here it is - a lengthy explanation of each card in my mdzs major arcana deck and what I meant to convey/what i would have changed in retrospect/what alternatives i considered! It’s a bit messy and my typing style is lazy but hopefully it will be an interesting read to some of you :)

And so you don’t say I didn’t warn you - jiang cheng’s section (11 justice) is absurdly long lmao

0 the fool I elaborated on this in the post itself but yeah basically jin ling is kind of representative of all the damage and trauma caused by the past, and there’s a kind of danger there of him falling victim to the same vices as the older characters and repeating the same mistakes and perpetuating the cycle of war and misery (the cycle that we already see with how the jin sect became the new wen sect, and later with how jgy became the new wwx) and he has a lot of room to grow! He grows so much over the course of the novel, comes to realise the complexities of the past and gets a harsh life lesson in how nothing is as black and white as it seems. But ill save talking about his progress for the end, for now whats important is that he has room to grow and also a dog. I don’t really have a justification for the sun, i mostly just thought it looked sick? It made its way to the next card as well, where it makes a bit more sense, but then i realised it was a dumb motif to include 1 the magician I still very much like wwx for the role, and that illustration would have probably had him raising a corpse on his left and pointing threateningly to the sun on his right. I considered including the table as well, with some mdzs relevant items replacing the card suits. Anyway, like i said wwx got a few cards to himself already so i went with the alternative wq design, since i think she fits the card as well. Both she and wwx are highly skilled people, extremely driven once they set their mind to something. The card to me symbolises the creative mind as well as a general drive for action, which fits them both - wwx was famously a prolific inventor, and wq came up with a previously unheard of surgery, after all. This card strays pretty far from the rider-waite deck design, largely because i was still figuring out how i wanted to approach this series, but you can still see the influence. 2 the high priestess I was actually going to skip this card at first because I couldn’t think of a fitting character, but once i considered a qings character post death, it all fit pretty well. She was already a highly intuitive person in life, and in sharing her memories with wwx she is, in a way, relaying a kind of secret knowledge. Anyway she’s one of my fav characters so im glad i got a chance to include her. The coffins could be interpreted to be xxc and sl or xxc and xy 3 the empress Theres other mother figures in mdzs who got to be mothers for a longer time, but jyl definitely embodies the positive aspects of this card the best. She’s nurturing, kind, emotionally supportive, she already mothered wwx and jc quite a bit when she was young. Plus i liked that the rw card had both water and flowers, making an easy lotus connection. In retrospect the stars look kind of out of place and i should have replaced them with something more relevant... Also, i should have had her hold a lotus seed pod instead of a flower, haha 4 the emperor Like i said I considered jc for the role but hoching bullied me into admitting that nmj was better… they’re both more of an inverted emperor than an upright one but then again theres hardly any character in mdzs who would fit upright emperor so. Jgs was also considered but he’s even uglier than nmj so i couldn’t bear to draw him 5 the hierophant It was pointed out to me that lqr would have fit this card better and the truth if that statement haunts me to this day. Unfortunately I have no space in my brain for lqr so lxc got the role instead. My main reason was his role during the wen destruction of gusu lan, when he ran away with the contents of the library - this is why there’s bookshelves behind him. The keys, take, from the rider-waite deck, are meant to represent the gusu pendants that allow you to enter 6 the lovers Im sure many people would have chosen wangxian here but I uhh don’t really care abt wangxian personally? And also their love story is so convoluted that jyl and jzx seem idyllic by comparison lol. Also i didnt really have an idea for who to put in the angel’s place for wangxian… mme jin certainly did not get these two together in the end but undeniably she and mme yu did initially give them a chance to fall for each other so. Thats something i guess. Anyway the trees became their sects’ flowers and the mountain became the burial grounds - an omen of their tragic fate, basically 7 the chariot There might have been other characters who fit this card better but i couldn’t really think of another card for lwj and i thought it would be weird to not include him… anyway i don’t really care for current timeline lwj BUT i do like that he was clearly influenced by wwx to walk his own path in life based on his moral convictions rather than follow his sect’s rules blindly. The chariot is to me a card of self control, self determination and focused action, so it seemed fitting. The composition felt kind of empty without the actual chariot so i padded it out with the guqin, the cloud recess in the bg (it doesn’t look great but i tried to replicate the drama design….) and the bunnies which conveniently fit the colour scheme of the sphinxes in the rider-waite design 8 strength Like i said before, my interpretation of this card is more… morally ambiguous than the quote unquote official meaning, so i thought about manipulative or duplicitous characters more than kind characters whose strength is expressed through gentleness (though i did consider jyl briefly for the latter interpretation). As such, i considered both jgy and nhs, but ended up going with jgy largely because i couldn’t pass up the opportunity to put the nie sect’s beast as the lion. 9 the hermit My thoughts immediately went to bssr lol. It may be an overly literal interpretation but whatever, i like it just fine. And i like that i managed to echo the rider-waite silhouette in the mountain and the tree (and even in bssr herself) 10 wheel of fortune God i love the parallels between these 2… this card to me is about how you cant trust your current situation, good or bad, to last forever, and these 2 embody that perfectly imo. Wwx went from son of a well off servant and a powerful cultivator, to street rat orphan, to adopted son of sect leader jiang, to double orphan, to MIA, to terrifying but admired warrior, to terrifying and despised traitor, to dead, to, at the very end, suddenly respected and trusted again. The dishonesty and cheapness of whatever the public’s current opinion of him is is portrayed beautifully as far as im concerned. And jgy of course claws his way up to power only to instantaneously become public enemy number one, to the point that he’s probably blamed for stuff there’s no reason to believe he had a hand in. Wei wuxian’s silent astonishment at how quickly the cultivation world turns against jgy and towards him again is a delicious moment of thematic resonance. 11 justice I settled on this card for jc after he got booted from the emperor seat but i do think it fits, in a somewhat convoluted way. I turned both the sword and the scales into visual representations of the golden core transfer (can you tell im obsessed with it). According to biddy tarot, the justice card is partly about searching for the truth, and the scene where jc finds out about the transfer is of course a big deal. I was also very influenced by the reversed meaning again - which is about being reluctant or unwilling to face or accept the consequences of your actions. I feel on an intuitive level that this fits jc but I’m not sure how well i can explain it - it’s something about how he’s a little too comfortable scapegoating wwx for things that were also, if much less so, influenced by his actions, and also something about the way he keeps wwx at an arm’s length emotionally but still leans on him and accepts his support when he really needs it, and somewhat hypocritically expects wwx to put the needs of him and the jiang sect before the needs of others. And also something about the core exchange is the consequence and proof of wwx’s deep - terrifyingly deep, even - love and care for him, which is something jc doesn’t seem to let himself acknowledge. Maybe even something about how you could argue that the way all of the jiangs acted around wwx - jfm’s favouritism that left him with the feeling of a debt he needs to repay, mme yus insistence that he be a servant more than a brother to jc, prepared to give his life for jc, and jc’s own unwillingness - or inability, he was a child after all - to clearly acknowledge wwx as an equal to himself, enabling wwx’s self sacrificial and protective tendencies - that all of this was what caused wwx’s complete and unquestioning willingness to do whatever it took to protect jc, and therefore paved the way to the golden core transfer. And i don’t mean this to be scapegoating jc - especially considering how young he was when this all went down, it wouldn’t be fair to expect this level of emotional perceptiveness, awareness and maturity of him - but i think adult jc has to grapple with the fact that the chain of cause and effect was not as simple as wwx fucking everyone’s lives up to be a martyr, and that both jc and his parents had a role in that story as well. I don’t even necessarily think this is something that jc only realised in the current timeline - i think it’s something he felt on some level this whole time, and it probably led to a lot of feelings of guilt - but the suibian reveal definitely puts it in sharp focus, and i think he’s now better equipped to handle this introspection than he was as a recently orphaned, traumatised teenager, lol. ANYWAY the window with the fabric is both a nod to the rider-waite design and a reference to the destruction of lanling - i actually did some basic ass research for this, and it seems that in ancient china fabric would indeed be hanged in a window if the normally used paper was damaged. The design of the window, as well as the very idea to use it to imply the reconstruction of lanling, was taken from this great piece of jc angst by my pal moroll1! Oh yeah also the covered window kind of works as a denial of forgiveness for jc because it’s like a halo but covered up... Also I completely forgot to put a blindfold over his eyes which would be perfectttt because blind justice and the core exchange......... ok moving on 12 the hanged man I always have issues with this card because i cant find a satisfactory summary of what it’s really about. Best i can tell it symbolises a need to hit pause, surrender or let go of something… ive also seen it tied to sacrifice? So mo xuanyu doesn’t fit perfectly, but sacrifice is definitely there in a surface level reading kind of way, and the idea that you have to surrender or let go in order to achieve your goal does fit the whole deal of getting revenge but giving up your life in exchange and not being there to see it 13 death This is probably one of my favourite cards, definitely not because I have huge issues with change or anything…. I see this card as signalling the necessity of change or putting an end to something / leaving something in the past in order to start anew? At first i considered putting past wwx, mxy and current wwx here as a kind of transformation and one cycle flowing into the next... But firstly, I’d already used mxy in the very previous card, so putting him in again would feel like overkill, and secondly, the longer I thought about it the less convinced I was that this would even fit with the card’s meaning? Because coming back from the dead doesn’t like... trigger an internal transformation within wwx or anything? Anyway, fun fact: the design I ended up going with was actually originally intended for judgement! I thought I was being very clever with the whole “figure plays an instrument and the dead rise” parallel, but apparently I’d just completely forgotten that the judgement card had a completely different composition... Truly I was boo boo the fool... But yeah anyway at the end of the day I figured the design would kind of work for death as well, with Wen Ning and the theme of transformation, (since in his case coming back as a fierce corpse does actually mark a certain transformation in behaviour) and Wei Wuxian’s protection of the Wen people essentially signifying an attempt to break the cycle of oppression if that makes any sense? Like, wwx is trying to revolutionise the way the world works a bit, if you catch my drift 14 temperance The centrist card! Again this is probably going off track from the “official” interpretation, but to me this card has a certain “don’t commit fully; do everything in moderation; don’t take either side” flavour to it that i personally find infuriating irl and that i very much assign to lxc. It’s entirely possible that I’m misinterpreting his character because i didn’t really pay him (and the 3zun in general) much mind while reading, but hell, I’m allowed to pick favourites and choose who i want to interpret deeply vs shallowly. Again, i wish id chosen lqr for hierophant because its so annoying for a character i don’t care about to get two cards…. But oh well 15 the devil My alternative idea for this was jgy as the devil and lxc plus nmj as the figures, but since all three had been featured already (multiple times, even!) i figured I’d go with xy instead, especially since he’s among my faves lol. I think the devil signifies something along the lines of unhealthy attachment, obsession or addiction, which isn’t 100% accurate in the case of xxc and a-qing, but if i stretch it a bit to cover toxic relationships in general, and especially manipulation or negative influence, i don’t think it’s half bad. My main struggle here was to choose who amongst the xxc/sl/aq trio to choose for the human figures. 16 the tower Arguably jin zixuans death and the following massacre of nightless city were the final and most direct reason for the siege of burial mounds, and the tiger seal is good shorthand for wwx’s loss of control over his powers, which led to the deaths of jzx and jyl. When reimagining major arcana i like to feature some kind of building in this card (spoilers for a possible future project but in my rose of versailles major arcana set the tower is bastille) and even if it’s not a tower, the image of wwx looming over the gathered crowd from atop a rooftop is so good i couldn’t resist 17 the star Struggled with this one - considered both jin ling and lsz for it, as symbolising a hope for the future, but that was kind of covered by the world so it wouldn’t make sense to include here as well... As usual when I struggle with interpreting a card (as opposed to understanding it but struggling with matching a character to it, like with death or moon) I went to biddy tarot and read all the details about its meaning. What i got was that this card signifies an incoming period of introspection and inner peace following a time of turmoil, as well as a general moving on into a new, better phase of one’s life or finding new meaning and purpose. The figure also suggests someone vulnerable, but possessing a keen sense of intuition as well as a good degree of practicality and common sense. Given all those, I settled for mianmian because IM LOVE HER..... I also kind of see her as a prelude to the “just one person is enough” theme present in tgcf!! And i think her decision to abandon her sect because she saw the toxicity and corruption in it is a very inspiring action - even if it didn’t make a large visible impact, i think the appearance of her and her idyllic family at the very end of the novel - paralleling and mirroring wangxian - implies that at the end of the day, it was a meaningful one 18 the moon Another card i ALWAYS fuxking struggle with - this time less because i can’t grasp its meaning and more because I can never find a character that fits it well. I usually get fixated on the “dreams and subconscious” part, but if i lean more on the “disguise, deceit, anxiety and fear” part, i eventually figured the whole yi city arc wouldn’t be a bad fit. I say the entire arc because it really does encompass all those themes if you include both the past and the present - xue yang’s disguise, his tricks with the villagers, a-qing’s lies and even xxc’s reluctance to talk about his past as well as xue yang pretending to be xxc all fit the disguise and deceit angle, and the general mystery and creepiness of the current timeline yi city work well with the anxiety and fear - the mist, the slow uncovering of the past, even a-qing being revealed to be an ally after scaring the shit out of the protags. I definitely struggled with including all the elements and characters, and even moreso with making them vaguely fit the rider-waite composition, but i think it ended up okay ish. OH and i completely forgot to draw mist swirling around them :( 19 the sun I was considering mianmian’s family for this one, but since I used her for star, I ended up with wwx and his parents instead. Once again I’m reinterpreting the card a bit - normally I think it symbolises incoming times of pure happiness and abundance, as well as a connection with the inner child, but I gave it more of a nostalgic or sentimental twist - wwx looking back at the brief glimpse of his happy childhood. 20 judgement another card that i struggle to interpret a bit... Here i actually used the tgcf tarot zine as a reference! In it judgement is summarised as “rebirth, following duty, absolution” SO i figured that nhs, mxy and wwx all together would fit pretty neatly... wwx achieving (public) absolution through clearing his own name after being reborn, and nhs sort of calling on wwx to expose jgy’s crimes... It’s a bit messy but not bad I think! 21 the world This ties very closely to my read on mdzs as a story - which is that it’s, at the end of the day, largely about cycles, and about how hard it is to break them, but how we gotta keep trying and have hope anyway. Or maybe more precisely, that the people directly involved with and influenced by the trauma of the past might not be able to get over said trauma and that the hope for healing from it will be shouldered by the new generation. Or something like that… Basically what i mean is that jc and wwx and lwj and lxc and nhs and jgy and all these people who were in the thick of the sunshot campaign and the siege are so profoundly affected by it that it genuinely feels by the end of the story like there is little hope for them to ever truly overcome that trauma and build a better future without repeating the same old mistakes - but there is a glimmer of hope in the new generation, specifically in jl and lsz. And it’s a bit paradoxical, because they have also been directly impacted by the past tragedies - lsz having his entire clan wiped out after wwx failed to protect them, jl losing both his parents to wwx’s mistakes - but despite that loss, and despite coming from arguably the two opposing sides of the past conflicts, they are both, in the end, capable of moving past that tragedy, of recognising the complicated nature of those conflicts (jl’s moment of clarity at the end is both heartbreaking and hopeful) and forging friendships between clans in the process. I honestly think that the extra where jl is struggling to assert his authority as sect leader, to treat his subjects well and to cooperate with other sects in a truly amicable way is the single hopeful ending note for the larger themes of the novel - it allows us to imagine that maybe these kids can learn from the mistakes of their elders rather than getting sucked in by resentment at those mistakes, and actually build a brighter future for the cultivation world. And sidenote, this is also why i have a soft spot for jin ling and lan sizhui as a ship... speaking of which their poses were directly referenced from the lovers card ehehe

Looking back, I’d like to add some symbol of jin ling’s trauma so that it mirrors baby wen yuan in the tree stump... maybe his father’s sword?

#mdzs #mo dao zu shi #tarot

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h2bakugou · 4 years

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Hey! I was wondering if you could write about the reader with Jean Grey powers (xmen) who keeps to herself until the bakusquad decide to recruit her? Then after hanging with them the reader opens up and bakugou starts to have feelings for her and confesses? Thank youuu

a/n: hiya! of course! i haven’t seen xmen in a minute oof i should rewatch them. thank you for the request hun!

summary: after watching you in action and then sulk off to your room alone, bakugou and the bakusquad get tired of seeing you alone so they decide to recruit you, but bakugou’s feelings for you only get stronger

key: (y/n) - your name / (f/n) - first name / (l/n) - last name / (e/c) - eye color / (h/c) - hair color / powerful psychic abilities - your quirk; for more info on this, you can look at the jean grey wiki page

warnings: swearing, fluff

wordcount: 1.5k

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Watching you in action was riveting. You had immense power, power Bakugou hadn’t seen in a while. It was an unusual power. After seeing All Might and other pro heroes fight, comparing you to them felt a little pathetic, not that the way they fought was weak, but you exhibited power from not just strength, but with emotion, with your mind, with your body.

You were unique in so many ways. From the way your hair seemed to turn to fire when using your quirk, to the way you’d manipulate the energy around you to fight.

It was even more impressive seeing you fly form your amazing control of telekinesis.

But he couldn’t understand you. The more he tried, the more he hurt his brain trying to figure you out. Even Kaminari didn’t make his head hurt this much.

You were a book, with thousands of pages if not more. But you were so shut off, closed in. You didn’t even talk to Midoriya which Bakugou thought everyone did.

The only time you ever talked to anyone was when you were spoken too. You opted to stay to yourself, but Bakugou was tired of seeing you this way. Why didn’t you have friends? Or maybe you did and they just didn’t go here.

Whatever the case was, Bakugou was going to get you to be his friend, and for the first time, Bakugou was going to put forth the effort in making the friendship.

“Oh hey bro!” Kaminari slung his arm around Bakugou as he sat down on the couch.

“Shut it Dunceface.” Bakugou waited for the rest of his quote on quote ‘squad’ to show up. And when they had, he began to speak.

“We’re inviting another person to the group.” Bakugou didn’t mention them as a group a lot. But he was serious. And he didn’t care about his pride for two seconds, those tow seconds being right now.

“Oh, Bakugou went and got a heart!” Sero joked.

“(Y/n).” Bakugou spoke, turning around to look at you sitting at a table reading a book.

You lifted your head and looked at him, confusion written on your features.

“He wants you to join our group! Come on!” Kirishima says with a smile. You can feel heat rise to your face, it’s not an intense blush but it’s happening.

Cautiously you stand and walk over to the group, your closed book in your hand.

“Uhm thanks.” You thank them for inviting them over to their group.

“We’ve never really talked, tell us about yourself!” Mina is excited to actually hear you talk.

“Well uh my name is (F/n) (L/n) and I like to read sometimes.” You sit down beside Bakugou, who had taken a seat when you walked over.

Bakugou’s head was swarming with all sorts of feelings. You were warm, you radiated energy and heat. He could feel how powerful you were just by sitting beside you.

- - -

Shortly after talking with the group, you’d opened up a bit and you were, for the first time in a while, comfortable with a group of people that you could call friends.

It wasn’t like you isolated yourself on purpose, you just never made the executive decision to make friends. You were here to learn, you didn’t really see a point in it, at the time, but now, having talked with the Bakusquad, you’d clearly missed out. Life was so much better when you weren't spending it alone moping in your room wishing you could make friends super easily.

Over the course of a week or two, you’d began to eat lunch with them, opting to hang out after training and class, and even spending time with Mina to do some girl stuff and sleepover things.

But it was Bakugou who you’d grown somewhat closer too. He would train with you, one on one. You’d spar and often ask to be partnered up in class activities.

You’d gone out on a walk with Bakugou, heading off campus before curfew.

“It’s weird being off campus.” You sat on a swing, you’d come to a park that was nearby, while Bakugou approached the one beside you.

“We do everything on campus, but I guess it is called school for a reason.” You joke, pushing back off the ground so you could swing forward a bit.

“Why’d you invite me to your group?” You questioned, curious about why it was Bakugou who made the big decision on recruiting you.

“I was tired of seeing you all alone. You clearly have skill so you should be making friends and shit.” Bakugou pouted, he hated being open, or merely he hated expressing feelings that made others think he was all soft and shit.

He was, to an extent that he’d only let people, the people who were really close to him, see those feelings and that side of him.

“I always struggled to make friends.” You began, deciding to open up to Bakugou. It seemed fair since this was clearly not the norm for him.

Bakugou’s head turned to look at you, he could read you like a book now, you’d pulled back the cover and all your pages were showing.

“I was just always focused on training and controlling my quirk. It’s always been super tough, and when it gets out of control I could really hurt someone. I never wanted to lose control and hurt the people around me, the people that I cared about.”

Bakugou knew what that was like. He had an explosion quirk, danger was always prominent, he could easily hurt someone if he got too angry.

“So I pushed everyone away, you can’t hurt people if you never surround yourself with them, right?” You try to crack a joke at the situation, but your failed attempt just makes you sigh.

“So when you were willing to invite me to your group, I didn’t know what to do, it was hard, but you just opened your arms and accepted me. I guess that’s why I gravitated to you so much, because you know what it’s like.”

“I do.” Bakugou added, he was inwardly happy to see that you’d caught on to his situation.

“But I can’t wrap my head around you. You’re so funny to me. You always criticize Midoriya and even Kirishima and Kaminari, but with me, it’s like you’re a whole different kind of Bakugou.”

“I could say the same about you. When I first saw you use your quirk, I was so fucking impressed it was insane. I couldn’t understand how someone like you wasn’t aiming for the top. You made me so angry seeing you alone.” Bakugou gripped the chains of the swing set.

“It drove me crazy, seeing you all alone, spending time with yourself like you were too important to make friends. It really pissed me off.” Bakugou looked at the ground.

“Because that was me.” Bakugou kicked at the red mulch under his feet.

“I hated the idea of making friends but those losers crept up on me, and as much as I still hate them, they’ve been there for me through all of this shit.”

“It was Kirishima who grabbed your hand when the league caught you, right?”

“Yeah.”

“I’ve always admired your duality.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” Bakugou looked back up at you, the sun was beginning to set and you’d have to head back to U.A. soon. God he wanted to kiss you right now.

You looked so beautiful, the way the orange and purple sky mixed with the sparkling of stars beginning to light up like a city in the sky, the glow of the sun dripping below the horizon made your skin look radiant, like it was covered in thousands of tiny stars itself.

You were beautiful, everything about you was beautiful, he couldn’t fathom it.

“You’re strong when you need to be, but you’re able to open up and acknowledge your weaknesses.”

Bakugou couldn’t resist any longer. The rustling of chains startled you as he darted up and took a few steps closer to you.

“Shut up.” He murmured before pressing his lips to yours. The swing was pushed back as you rose to your feet, your lips connecting to his like they were magnets.

His kiss was enough to make you realize one thing. Katsuki Bakugou was in love with you.

You kissed back but pulled away shortly after.

“Why’d you do that?” You questioned.

“I needed to. Was it bad or something?”

“No! No! It was nice, I liked it.” You admitted, flustered.

“Can you stop making excuses and just realize that you’re still learning.” Bakugou intertwined his fingers with yours, securing your hand in his as you began to walk back toward the campus.

“Yeah.” You whispered.

When you arrived back at the dorms, Mina was surprised to see your hand in Bakugou’s.

“Someone’s in love!” She cooed, excited for the two of you. You looked away and let out a small giggle while Bakugou’s cheeks burned red.

"Shut up!” He yelled, rushing up the stairs with you to his dorm.

You and Bakugou hung out for a little while but it was safe to say that not only had you made some new friends, you’d discovered love for the first time.

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rosy-wooyoung · 4 years

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Husband series [2/8] | Seonghwa

Word count: 3.8k Pairing: ex-husband! Yunho x single mom! reader x boyfriend! Seonghwa Genre: mostly fluff, kinda cliché af?? A/N: Second work out of the eight that I’m not really proud of... as usual, the gif doesn’t have anything to do with the fic :’)

You sighed as you looked for your child in the store, worryingly pushing strands of hair out of your eyes. Two minutes of inattention were enough for him to walk away, carelessly wandering around the shop. He was still quite young, but he was able to walk without your help, freeing him from any restraint.

“How could we lose him?” your boyfriend Seonghwa exclaimed as he looked around him, brows knitted. You were on the verge of tears and abandoned the trolley in a corner. Seonghwa gently caressed your back as you started searching for your son again.

“Minwoo? Minwoo, baby, where are you?” you said louder, starting to imagine the worst-case scenarios that could have happened to your son. You hurriedly trotted through the store, earning side glances from the rest of the shoppers, sometimes meeting Seonghwa at the end of an alley, only to find him alone. Your son was the most precious thing you had in your life and you couldn’t see yourself without him. It didn’t matter if you lost your boyfriend, you had already lost your husband by the past, but you’d kill to keep Minwoo by your side. You neared the fish counter and noticed a small boy next to two tall men, who were showing him the living sea animals in the huge tanks next to the fridges. You recognised the dark blue jacket your mom knitted for Minwoo and felt a weight flying away from your chest. However, you didn’t recognise the men next to him, so you ran towards your son.

“Minwoo!” you almost screamed and rushed to your son, grabbing him from behind, not paying attention to the men next to your son. “How many times did I tell you not to leave my side when we grocery shop! We were worried about you with Seonghwa!” you said in one breath, your hand cradling his head on your shoulder. “But Daddy,” you heard your son said and you froze. “What do you mean, “Daddy”?” Minwoo looked up from your shoulder and you recoiled as he pointed to one of the men. The man you didn’t recognise was none other than your ex-husband, Yunho, accompanied by Mingi, his best friend. After seeing his face, you noticed that he hadn’t changed, even after years of divorce. His hair was a bit shorter, but his facial features were the same as when you parted ways. He was wearing a suit and tie, an embarrassed smile drawn on his face. Your eyes widened when Minwoo made grabby hands at him, happy to meet his dad. “Hi Y/N,” Yunho managed to say, rubbing his neck, “I didn’t expect to meet you there,” you clenched your teeth and awkwardly smiled, not really knowing what to say. “Ah, Y/N, you found him,” you pursed your lips and closed your eyes as your boyfriend arrived, ready to take you and your son in his arms. He took a step back when he noticed Yunho and Mingi. Minwoo, who was in your arms, did everything to touch his father. Mingi, behind the two of you, took a step back and waited a bit further away to clear things out. He knew your situation since he was also a good friend of yours, your divorce preventing you from hanging out with him.

“What’s happening here?” Seonghwa said and none of you answered. You stared at Seonghwa, feeling sorry that he had to witness this awkward encounter. You could see his brain working, his eyes going from you to Minwoo, then to Yunho and his eyes widened when everything clicked in his head. For some reasons, you couldn’t talk, and the three men around you noticed that. You were frozen on the spot. Yunho cleared his throat and extended his hand towards your boyfriend. “I’m Yunho, Y/N’s ex-husband and… Minwoo’s father and, that’s Mingi, a good friend of mine,” he said, gesturing to Mingi, who nodded with a dull face. “I believe that you’re her new partner?” Seonghwa shook his hand without a word, his eyes never leaving your ashamed ones. He detached his eyes from you and looked at your ex, shaking his hand with such force that his digits turned white. “Exactly, I’m Seonghwa,” He said and his eyes darkened, suddenly remembering the reason why you divorced.

Of course, you had told him by the past the reason why you parted ways with your ex-husband, and he was mad. He was mad that your husband acted like a complete coward, scared of his parents. Yunho was someone from the high class. His parents owned an immensely powerful company and he fell in love with you the minute he saw you entering one of his parents’ restaurants. It was a place that your friends didn’t usually go to, but she wanted to celebrate your well-deserved promotion and went there, lucky to find a free table at rush hour. He immediately introduced himself as the son of the restaurant’s owner. Your friends were impressed, you were quite too, but you didn’t show it. You treated him like an ordinary person, with respect, but you didn’t admire or glorify him as your friends did. You beamed and nodded at his jokes, making him feel weird not to have everyone laughing and smiling like everyone did when he was around. He found you hard to get and Yunho loved challenges. At the end of your meal, he boldly asked for your number and you gave it to him without really thinking about it. However, when he was in private, he was way calmer but still very flirty, charming you with his sweet words and actions you exchanged until your first date.

After two years of life together, he introduced you to his parents and it was one of the worst nights you’ve ever had. You put a lot of efforts for your appearance, going to the hair and nail salon, buying an expensive, chic dress with heels. You almost chickened out at last minute but Yunho comforted you and you walked out of his car. But now, in hindsight, you shouldn’t have ever entered this mansion. The dinner was tense, even Yunho could sense it. His parents made zero effort to welcome you in their family, both of them shook your hands with such strength that it made you whine when they turned around. You kept your head high the entire dinner even if they put you down, subtly telling their son that you weren’t good enough for him. They even suggested in front of you that he should get married to someone richer and more influential. You swallowed your pride and feelings when you were in front of them, but you let everything out as soon as you entered your home. Yunho apologised for his parents’ behaviour but it didn’t make you feel better. The only thing you wanted to do was breaking up with him and get away as fast as possible from the two sharks that were his parents. Yunho begged you to stay and promised that he’d make everything to keep your relationship alive. And you believed him.

After months of struggle and rebellion, his parents reluctantly let him date you. On the other side, your parents were happy and proud that you were with Yunho, even if his parents were mean to you. It was sounded better to have their daughter dating a son from a rich company than being happy with someone from your social class. Sadly, showing off was something really important for your parents. They were even happier when Yunho proposed to you during one of your trips abroad. You had said yes without really thinking about the consequences with his parents, and it created many, many problems. You had to hide the ring every time your future mother-in-law randomly paid a visit to her son’s house. One night, she was there and Yunho was about to enter the house, but you pretended to go grab a bottle of wine from the cellar, grabbing Yunho by his tie and pulling him here. Yunho was thinking about something else as you untied his tie knot and unclasped his thin golden chain, your promised ring hung from it. You took off your ring from your finger and hid it behind a wine bottle, grabbing another one as you quietly explained the situation to your future husband. He nodded as he redid his tie, acting as you ran into him as you went out of the cellar in front of his mother.

One night, seeing your distress, Yunho offered you to marry him in secret. You were very against it at the beginning, worried about his parents and their power, but he promised to make everything work. He invited only your family and your closest friends and celebrated this wonderful day in a small group. You were a bit anxious to see his parents show up unannounced, but fortunately, they didn’t.

One day, as you slid your key into the slot, you realised that the door was unlocked. You first thought of housebreaking since Yunho’s house was big and filled with different kind of luxury items, silently making your way to the kitchen and grabbed a knife. Someone was upstairs and rummaging through yours and Yunho’s stuff. You instantly sent a text to Yunho about the current situation and took off your shoes, easier for you to climb up the stairs without making any noise. Through the poorly closed door, you recognised his mother, raging mad, searching through everything. You hid the knife in the bathroom next to you, scared that she might kill you when she’ll find out the truth. When she saw you, she yelled, hurriedly pacing towards you.

“You filthy bitch!” she said as she went to grab your blazer, but you pushed her away, feeling the rage boiling in your body as well. “What is wrong with you, what do you want?” you yelled back, making eye contact with her. “How can you enter your son’s house like a burglar?” “Oh,” she exclaimed, eyes shooting bolt lighting towards you, “you dare to call me a burglar when you are the biggest gold-digger out of all my son's girlfriends? You’re only dating him for his money, his fame and power we have in the city. I won’t let you ruin our reputation by dating and marrying my son! A silly cow like you doesn’t deserve to get a taste of luxury,” her behaviour truly shocked you, each word spilling out of her mouth sending daggers to your heart and pride. You gulped and started to walk back, noticing every item around her that could serve as a weapon. “Now, where do you hide it?” she spat and furrowed your brows. What was she talking about? “The ring, you bloody foul, where do you hide it, hm? You can’t deny anything, I found the wedding ring bill in Yunho’s desk drawer. Tell me where it is!!” she screamed, and you thought that she was going mad. You clearly didn’t want to fight or hurt her, knowing that she’d take you to court for your acts, so you avoided her as much as possible. Hoping that Yunho would come soon, you heavily inhaled and remained silent. “I’m going to ruin your life if you don’t tell me where it is.” “Mom!” Yunho yelled from downstairs and came up in a blink, shielding you from his mother with his body. “Get out of my way, son.” She said through gritted teeth but Yunho didn’t move. “Get out of my house first. How dare you coming in like a robber?!” he forced her to walk down the stairs by pushing her with his body, and you shivered when she looked at you. She squinted her eyes and pointed her finger towards you. “You,” she whispered, ignoring her son, “don’t think that you’ve won. You don’t know me, I’ll fucking destroy you.” Yunho pushed his mom out of the house, closing the door and locking it.

Three months after this incident, you discovered that you were pregnant with Minwoo. You were happy but his parents were the only fly in the ointment. During the time of your pregnancy, Yunho and you decided to live in a smaller house in the countryside, an unknown place for his parents. Yunho worked from home as much as he could and so did you, your maternity leave coming way sooner than you expected it. Those nine months flew by and you almost felt like breathing again, without being constantly feared that his parents would show up. You even had nightmares of it at the beginning of your pregnancy, but Yunho was here to protect you. However, a week before the scheduled birth date, you went back to your house and Yunho changed the door locks, preventing his parents from breaking in as his mother did.

A night where you were alone, Yunho paying a visit to his parents, labour had just begun, your waters just broke. It was very painful, yet you managed to call your husband to announce him the news. Yunho was stuck, he couldn’t leave his parents so suddenly without arousing suspicions about your pregnancy. He excused himself from his parents, but they didn’t let him go so easily and you started screaming in pain in the phone, his mother instantly understanding everything. She grabbed her son’s phone from his hand and threw the cellular on the floor. You were still on the line, but you were starting to be weak, not able to call for Yunho anymore. You were about to hang up to call someone else, but you heard his mother’s words.

“You divorce with this witch immediately or we’re disowning you. I’m calling our lawyer.” You hung up and called Mingi, knowing that he’d help while Yunho fixed the situation with his parents. His friend was terrified and concerned, but he managed to drive you to the hospital before you gave birth. Before falling asleep from exhaustion with your newborn son on your chest, you begged Mingi to look after you and he promised, allowing you to rest.

Yunho never came to see you. You learnt from a nurse that he still came and signed the birth certificate, but he never came to see you and his child that you carried for nine months. Mingi and his mother came to visit, taking care of you like her own daughter-in-law. They understood you because they weren’t the same as Yunho’s family, Mingi's parents worked hard to allow their son to work in this company, yet they were still mad that Yunho never came to visit. Once you could get out of the hospital (you had to stay a few more days because the doctors found that you were exhausted and dehydrated), Mingi and his mom took care of Minwoo while you drove back to Yunho’s house. When you entered the house, you had to lean against the doorway when you saw boxes filled with your clothes and other belongings.

“Yunho?” you called with a small voice, eyes filling with tears. You heard footsteps coming from upstairs and the tall man appeared, tear-stained cheeks and puffy eyes. He ran downstairs with a devastated face. “I’m so sorry Y/N,” he said, and you shook your head, understanding that it was too late. You swallowed and refused Yunho’s embrace, starting to drag the boxes outside, putting the maximum in the trunk of your car. In less than a month, you were homeless, a mother and divorced. When you closed the car trunk, you sighed and Yunho grabbed your wrist. He placed a set of keys linked to a tag, an address messily written on it. “I bought this apartment for you, I’ll come to visit when the situation will quiet down a bit.” He closed your palm on the key and you opened his other palm, putting your wedding ring in it. “Thank you, but I can’t do it anymore. I can’t risk my life, Minwoo’s and yours just because of your parents. I’ll put the keys of this apartment in the mailbox once I’ll find something else I can afford.” You said as you cried, starting to walk to the driver seat. “Please Y/N,” “No Yunho, we can’t. I can’t do it anymore. You didn’t even come to see me and our child. You didn't even ask why he's not with me right now. Everything stopped here for me. Our years of relationship, our marriage, it all ended. Thank you for the wonderful memories but it’s over. And deep down, you know that it’s already over, your parents probably forced you to sign the papers anyway. Goodbye Yunho.”

He sent you one last text that night, telling you that he was sorry and that they sent him in America, for “business matters” and it was the last time you heard from him. It took you months to move on and start again. You had found a place to stay which was smaller but closer to your workplace, a day-care centre only a block away from your apartment. Minwoo grew up and started asking for his father and you quietly explained to him why he didn’t have a father. You kept a picture of the two of you framed next to the door, showing it to your son every time he asked for his father. At first, he cried, but he slowly understood that you were still loving him and trying your best even if you couldn’t give him a father. You had also tried to date again, but you were so worried about your son in day-care that you never enjoyed any of them. It was hard to be a single mom, feeling worthless and unlovable each time you came home from an unsuccessful date. You knew that your son loved you, but it wasn't comparable to the love you could get from a caring man.

Since your work was closer, you privileged the public transports over the car. You entered the bus and your son suddenly started crying for no apparent reason. You tried to feed him, give him his cuddly toy, but nothing changed, he was crying at the top of his lungs. You were so embarrassed that you barely looked up, profoundly apologising to everyone around you, nearly in tears due to exhaustion and shame. The man in front of you looked around your age and his gaze on your son was tender. He tried to catch your son’s attention by grabbing his plushie, waving it in front of his face, the cries slowly fading as the man in front of you portrayed a funny sweet voice while talking to your son through his toy. Minwoo was now mesmerised by his talking plushie, laughing, and hugging it close to him while looking at the man in front of you. You rested your head against the window, and you sighed along with a few other people around you, relieved that your son had stopped crying.

“Thank you so much,” you said to the young man and he smiled. “It’s nothing, I couldn’t let this little man embarrass his mother,” he chuckled, and you started talking to each other until you had to get off the bus. He was named Seonghwa, and came with you to your workplace, distracting Minwoo from crying. You thanked him again and went to work, feeling more peaceful. Meeting Seonghwa on the bus had become your daily routine. He was an interesting and smart man, bringing you entertained until your stop, looking forward each time to see him the next day. Bus rides turned into dates, smiles turned into kisses, closeness turned into caresses and tenderness. You fell in love with him, hard, and you were scared, but he reassured you. You had almost forgotten your ex-husband and his tormenting family, hoping to never see them again. You were doing well. Until tonight.

You cannot lie, Yunho looked happy and surprised to see his son for the first time, but Seonghwa didn’t agree. You noticed the two men menacingly stare at each other and the atmosphere was tense. You couldn’t let them start a fight in the middle of the shop, so you grabbed Seonghwa’s hand, quickly bidding goodbye to your ex-husband, as well as Mingi and left the fish counter as quickly as possible. Once everything was in the car trunk, you sat Minwoo in his seat and went to the passenger seat, Seonghwa waiting for you to go home. You took big breaths during the journey home, expecting your boyfriend to leave you or not talk to you for a while. Why did you have to run into your ex-husband when you were with him? Why did it have to happen? You got out of the car as soon as it stopped in the driveway, taking in a big bowl of fresh air. You shook your head in defeat and opened the car door, unfastening your son’s seatbelt, carefully carrying him to your apartment and put him to bed. Seonghwa was tidying the grocery around the kitchen when you came downstairs, taking a glass of water along with a pill for headaches. Your boyfriend closed the fridge door and observed you, noticing that you were on the verge of tears. He walked towards you and took you in his arms, shushing you as you quietly cried on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry-” “I know the memories and scars are still vivid, but you need to move on. I saw how sad and upset you looked when we met him, but I won’t let this ungrateful bastard destroy what we built together. You were doing fine so far, we managed to make you forget him and I won’t let you dive back in your sorrow. You’ve been strong for so long, it’s not the time to give up. Do it for your son, for yourself, and for us as a pair. You need me, I need you, Minwoo needs healthy parents and I’m ready to take this role. Forget about this man, I promise that you will be better and healthier without him and his family.” Seonghwa whispered and worked his fingers through your hair, “I wasn’t so sure about bringing up a child who wasn’t mine, but I realised that I love you too much to let you down.” His words made you burst into tears and he shushed you, his fingers working in your hair. “I’m sorry that we had to see him, I swear it wasn’t planned.” You whispered and Seonghwa exhaled at your words, realising how guilty you felt. “No need to swear Y/N, and it’s okay. Let’s forget that for a while, shall we? You look really tired.” Seonghwa kissed your temple and you nodded, letting your boyfriend carry you to your bedroom.

Seonghwa made sure to kiss you on the cheek and dry your wet tears, his arm circling your waist before you both fell asleep in one breath.

190 notes · View notes

caxsthetic · 4 years

Text

Coming Home

Oikawa Tooru x F!Reader

Home is not something that you build. It was where you create memories. Either you find it in a place, or the embrace of someone.

Pt. 2 < Part 3

The squeaking sound of the shoes at the court could be heard even from the outside. It was around 22 degrees celcius right now, but sweats were already dripping down his figure. There will be a tournament in a few days, and not even once he spends a day without hours of practising.

“Hoi, Tooru!” The brunette was practising his serve when his teammates called out to him. He turned around to look at them as they sat on the bench, “Take a break, man! You will get injured if you keep doing that.” Injury, something that he always despised, but somehow he never lived without it.

“One more minute!” He shouted back. His teammates could only shake their heads, knowing for sure it wouldn’t take a minute for him to finally have a break. After five years struggling and living in this country, he finally achieved his dream to be on the top of the chain in the league.

It was a matter of time to fulfil his promise to Hinata anyway. He’s not the same man that’s crying after losing to Karasuno all those years ago, he’s no longer the same player who looked down to people anymore, he has changed, and it’s for the better. He feels invincible, ready to get as much experience that he could gather.

“Someone’s looking for you,” That stopped his movement for a second. It’s weird, he’s never close with anyone that could possibly come to his club. His leg immediately felt wobbly at one moment, thinking about maybe, maybe it was you. He put the volleyball in the basket and grabbed his towel.

Just the thought of you finding him excites the setter so much. His teammates were looking at him as he styled his hair, “You look excited.” A chuckle could be heard from his left, “Is it your lovers?”

Lovers, it was an unknown word in his life. You used to be his lovers, his significant others. He didn’t know anymore whether the thought of you is a blessing or a curse. Five years, he thought maybe being on the top of the chain could satisfy him. But these five years has been a torture for his heart, aching every time he remember about you.

He hoped that maybe someday he wouldn’t feel it again. The aching, the longing, the butterfly feeling. He didn’t want to love anyone in his life, so he didn’t have to feel any regret if he had to leave them. There’s a lot of women who actually want him to be wrapped around their fingers, either his heart or just his body. But every time someone wanted to taste him, he couldn’t think about anyone else except you, the one who always has his heart.

So it scared him a little, knowing there’s less than 10% possibilities that it was you who were waiting for him outside of the gymnasium right now. Even if you knew where he was, why would someone that he left broken wanted to see him. It just won’t add up no matter how many times he spun his brain.

He only answered his teammates with a smirk before walking up to the door. His thought was filled with you. He wondered if your hair became longer, or maybe how much you have changed, just like him. He closed his eyes, letting out a long sigh before finally opening up the door.

You are the most beautiful woman that he ever met. It’s not like you have a body like a greek goddess, or a voice as beautiful as sirens. But it fell on your personality, how caring you could be, the patience that you radiate by spending a lot of time with him. You were his everything, and it’s still the same even with five years without facing you.

So he was disappointed to see the woman turns out to be someone else, but not actually surprised by it. He chuckled bitterly when his eyes fell on the daughter of his landlord. From the start, he knew he shouldn’t get his hopes up. After all, you might be married right now with how successful you are, based on his best friend’s update.

“Do you need something?” The woman in front of him seems a little bit taken aback. He was too, shocked by the intonation that he emitted from his lips, “Sorry, I didn’t mean it to be that harsh.” Her chuckled rang out to the air, it was heavenly, and she was so graceful with her long brown hair.

To anyone else, him and the woman would be a perfect couple. Apparently his landlord was quite fond of him, and they even asked if he’s interested in their daughter. But no matter how beautiful she is or how her warm eyes could melt everyone, at the end, she’s not you.

“Dad changes the lock for the fence, you might need this.” She grabbed his hand and put the key on his palm. The woman actually has a crush on him, always giddy at the sight of the brunette. She looked up and found a blank expression on his face, “Tooru?” He jolted, a little bit surprised. He didn’t even realise that his hand was being held by her.

“Yes?” She kept looking at his face, admiring him discreetly. He pulled his hand and pocketed the key, “And thank you for this, Lucia. Tell your fa-”

Then her next movement caught him off guard. She tiptoed to reach him and put her hand on his cheek, slamming her lips immediately on his. He widened his eyes, too shocked to move at first. But after three seconds, he immediately pushed her away. Guilt filled his eyes as he looked at the woman in front of him.

“W-What are you doing?” His voice cracked, making the woman take a step back, “WHY YOU DO THAT?!” He screamed with tears starting to appear in his brown orbs. He felt sick, his lips never touched by anyone since that one time he left you alone in your bed. It’s weird, it feels like he was cheating on you to someone else and the thought of you knowing it broke his heart, “Oh god, I just betray her.”

“I-I am sorry, Tooru.” Lucia didn’t know what she should do, it was frightening to see the man broke down in front of her, “I didn’t know that you-”

“Please, go.” He pleaded, “Please, let me just calm down by myself.” The woman nodded and came back home. Leaving him to sit on the concrete, leaning on the wall behind him. He was sure that you may be with someone else already, at least that’s what he wanted to believe. But he was afraid that you don’t, and him kissing someone else seems so wrong and it nag his heart. For now, he’s just glad that you wouldn’t see him like this. Looking so vulnerable.

What he didn’t know was the fact that your figure was standing there before, looking at how another woman tiptoed to kiss him.

You haven’t slept for three days in a row now. Everytime you fall asleep, you will drink more coffee and just revise some paperwork for your business. You didn’t know what you were supposed to do when you heard the news. Five years passed and now you finally knew where he was.

“God, Argentine?” You let out a long sigh, dropping the pen in your hand to clatter on your desk, “But why- Why didn’t he say anything?” The information has haunted your mind since then. Life used to be so simple back then, the only thought that you two have was just how you want to spend tomorrow with each other.

Everything was falling apart now. You thought you could just live and focus on your dream without the need of someone else in your life. It’s true, you don’t need someone else, but you need him. You never felt so alive when you met him, it’s like he brought joy by just barging in your life. So when he left, it felt like you had lost the will to live. Making you to just exist, but not actually living.

He left you, and he didn’t want to be found. And if you love someone, don’t you need to consider their choice? But you wanted to be selfish, to just book a plane and see it with your own eyes how he was right now. You needed to see him, to see his smile and maybe with someone who could be there for him. You just wanted him to be happy, nothing else matters.

So you did what you wanted to do. Opening up your cell phone, you searched for a plane ticket. It may look like a spur of the moment, but you know you couldn’t move on in your life if you didn’t see him. You may risk your heart at the process, but it might be worth it to just take another look at him, one last time.

You let out a long sigh when you see the notification in your phone, the payment has been accepted, and you will go to Argentina tomorrow afternoon. You stood up from your chair, walking to your bedroom and grabbing a box that you put under your bed. When you opened it up, you almost choked out.

Your fingers grazing at the Aobajohsai jacket that folded neatly in the box, something that you found on your washer. There was his cologne that you found rolling below your dresser in your old room. You sprayed the room with it, slowly wearing the jacket that engulfed your body with a familiar warm. The scent in your room brought you home, to a place that you never have since years ago.

You tucked yourself on your bed, enjoying the feeling of his jacket. It feels smooth and feathery. He’s not there, not for the past five years. But somehow with just his jacket wrapped around your body, and the smell of his cologne permeates through the air in your room. And for the first time in forever, you felt like you were home.

“You looked like you couldn’t sleep.” Oikawa yawned and rubbed his eyelids with his sleeve, “You are a mess, Tooru.” His teammates got a little bit worried with the setter. Even when he always practised non-stop every day, he never looked this tired before. So it made the whole team worried when he appeared this morning with eyebags in his eyes, hair got a little bit messy.

“Hm? I guess I am.” He didn’t deny it, he’s a mess right now. When he came to his apartment yesterday and faced the woman who kissed him, he couldn’t look at her in the eyes anymore, “I feel like shit.” The others chuckled to hear his remark. It’s the truth, the only thought in his mind was you.

For years, he never had the urge to call you or just inform you where he was. But since yesterday, he always got this nagging feeling that tells him to call you. He just needs to keep holding on, he already decided what is best for the two of you after all. He would blame himself if his plan was falling apart to nothingness.

He and his teammates needed to go to another country, hence the reason why he was sitting here, in the airport waiting for his plane. He couldn’t sleep at all last night. He was rolling on his bed to the right and left, pouting because he needed to sleep but he couldn’t. You were the one who could make him asleep within seconds. With your fingers grazing on his scalp, your body heat to be his personal heater, little kisses that you put on his face, it was the only thing that he needed for a perfect sleep.

“You should wash your face you know,” His captain suddenly voiced out, “We still have time, it’s still an hour before we need to board the plane.” Oikawa groaned, too lazy to get out from where he sit.

“Why should I? I will look the same anyway,” He pouted, resulting in the others chuckling at how childish he could be sometimes.

“Tooru, do it or I will ask the coach to put you on the bench instead,” That threat startled him. He was sure his captain was only joking, but he didn’t want to take any risk. After all, maybe he could grab some snacks to kill the time. He left his belongings to his teammates, only brought his wallet and his cell phone.

The airport was crowded today, it was around 2 pm right now. The sun poured their light through the window, covering the tile with the orange hue. It was beautiful and warm. Airport always feels nostalgic for him. It was the place where he met his best friend the last time, and it was the place that reminded him that he left his home for good.

His long legs brought him to the mini market, where he found newly baked milk bread on the food warmer. He licked his lips, already drooling over his favourite food since childhood. He bought four of them and left the market with a happy face. Couldn’t wait, he opened up one of the breads and ate it immediately.

The milk bread was good for something that you could find in the airport, and the fact that it’s warm made the bread taste a lot better. He suddenly remembered how you used to bake him a milk bread. The first try was a failure, since the bread only tasted like flour. But you kept trying until you successfully baked the most delicious milk bread that he ever tasted.

“Argh, I really need to stop relating everything with-” He choked out all of a sudden, eyes trailed to a familiar white and turqoise colour. It was the same colour of his old uniform from high school. It was the colour of the VBC jacket, wrapped carefully around someone’s waist.

He lost his jacket a long time ago, so the sight of it brought amicable feelings to his heart. The person who wore the jacket was now ready to aboard since they were now queuing up to show their ticket. He run, to the said person, calling them out without shame,

“You! You with the Aobajohsai jacket!” He rushed to the said person, but they didn’t seem to hear him, “Wait, please!” He walked past his teammates who looked at him running to catch someone who he didn’t even know. As he grew closer and closer, he felt like he was running back home.

The said person was a she. Her hair swayed by the wind from the air conditioner above her, she looks so small with the oversize jacket that was loosely wrapped around her waist. He wondered if the jacket belongs to her boyfriend, that must be a cute reason to wear that.

But then she moved the strain of hair that was blocking her face, causing him to stop when he was now only five feet apart from the said person. It’s like the air was gone from his body, seeing the person that always lingered on his mind every single day.

He didn’t have any preparation to see you standing there, looking as lovely as ever.

After watching him happy with someone else, you don’t know either you should be happy for him or just bawling your eyes out. The latter seems to win as you sobbed without a break last night. It was painful to see him have someone who he called home, and here you were still hanging on the tight rope as you couldn’t find someone else that could replace him in your life.

It was tragic, loving someone who was long gone. You lost him that time when he decided to leave, but hope always kept you close to him. Your mind wandered to the one person that you love so much that you imagine him standing not far from you right now. It’s scary how mind works,

“(Y/n)?” You widened your eyes when the hallucination of him emitted a sound from his lips, “W-What are you doing here?”

That was when you knew that the man beside you was real. Oikawa Tooru, stood there with the same widened eyes on his face. You didn’t expect to see him standing tall right on your side. You walk out from the queue, facing the man that still has your heart no matter where you go.

The two of you only stared at each other, didn’t know what to say at the moment. You wanted to say something, maybe get angry at him for leaving without notice. But it’s like your voice trapped inside your throat. Instead, you remember the event from yesterday, where you found him in the arms of another.

“I-I have a business meeting here,” You lied as you remembered the question he asked you before, “Life has been good?” You put on a facade, smiling like seeing him didn’t bring the biggest agony that you ever felt in your life. But he knew you like the back of his hand, he knew every little thing about you.

“Yeah, I think.” He answered sheepishly, eyes glossy to see you standing right in front of him, “I hear from Iwa-chan that your business grew so wide!” There it is, the smile that you miss so much, “I know I am no one now, but I am so proud with your achievement!”

You could only stare at him, noting how his soft brown hair cutted a little bit shorter, remembering how he smiled so freely that it even lifted all of your burden everytime you saw it. He was the only person that you ever loved, and even after seeing him happy, you didn’t know that you ever could erase the love that you had for him.

Oikawa opened up his eyes after he smiled at you, frantic when he saw tears were trailing on your cheek. He wanted to wipe it away, kill himself to ever leave you. He wanted to coo at you and just pulled your body on his embrace. Calming you down, just like what you always do to him.

“You are…” Your hand swung to his chest, “So cruel!” He bit his lip, letting you hit him on the chest, “Trashykawa! Shittykawa! Crappykawa!” You closed your eyes as tears were already blurring your sight. Both of your hands keep hitting on his body. You didn’t even know either you did it out of anger, or you just poured all of your sadness that you held for five years.

Oikawa didn’t move his body, and he didn’t stop you from letting out all of your feelings through physical contact. He deserves it, for leaving you alone all of those years. He didn’t care that the other passengers looked at him like he was some kind of monster. Well, he really is a monster.

“I am sorry that I left you without warning, I-”

“I DONT’T CARE!” You screamed at him, “I don’t care that you left me, I don’t care that you left without giving me a warning.” It broke his heart to see you cry, and he was the one who caused all of this, “But I care about your goddamn reason!”

It was the one thing that haunted you for these past years. Waking up every morning wondering the cause of his leaving. If only he told you the reason why, you would know where you should put yourself. He left you with uncertainty every single day, making you think about the right path. You don’t know if you should move on or keep your feelings intact.

It’s not about how he left you all of a sudden. But it was all about the wide possibilities behind his disappearance. And it made you live like you were standing on the tightrope, that any kind of choice you made will risk your life forever. You could wake up with the thought of him leaving you for someone else, and you will sleep with the thought of him dying without wanting you to know.

And you have been living like that since the day he left.

After cursing at him and insulting him with the nickname that you were familiar with, you suddenly feel drained. Your body fell to his, and he caught you in his arms immediately. His large fingers stroked your hair and moved the strand that was falling on your face carefully. After all, it’s been years since the last time he saw you. And here you were standing so fragile in his embrace.

“Why did you leave me?” Your voice sounded hoarse, hands gripping on his shirt like your life depends on it, “Please, I am begging you. Please answer my question.” For maybe the last time, you tried to absorb the warmth once again. You were jealous with someone who was now always in his embrace. To feel the warmth that he radiated with just a simple gesture.

“I-If I said it,” Here it is, the answer that you have been waiting for, “You will leave all of your life behind.” It’s like your heart has been struck by lightning. After all this time, thinking about the worse scenario for the reason behind his action, this one never crossed your mind. Not even once.

“What?” You pulled yourself away from his embrace, staring at his face to see any kind of sign that will tell you about the truth. But you found nothing, and now it really dawned on you that he was saying the truth, “W-What do you mean by that?” Oikawa pulling his own hair, stressed because he spilled something that he never wanted you to know.

“Exactly how it sounds,” He crouched down on the ground and hiding his face on his palm, still thinking about the outcome if he told you everything, “If I told you that I am going to Argentina, you will leave all of your dreams behind and all of the plan that you build since a long time ago.” You clenched your fist, still processing how his mind works.

“You don’t know about that.” You bit your lips, trying not to cry in front of him again, “You couldn’t possibly know that I will follow you.” And that statement was enough to make him chuckle bitterly.

“Oh?” He looked up at you, “If I told you now that I want you to be here with me, what would you say?” You know your plan to make him feel guilty was backfired once he asked you that question. You opened up your lips, wanting to tell him that you will stay in Japan, forget about him forever.

But that was all a lie, and Oikawa noticed that with just one look at your face.

“Just what I thought,” It was painful, knowing the reason was for your own good. You wish you could hate him. It would be better if his reason was because he didn’t love you anymore, but the truth, his reason was circling around you, “You deserve someone better than me, someone that will always be there with you every step of your way, (Y/n).” He stood up, clenching his fist to hold the urge to pull you on his embrace once again, “You didn’t deserve to be with someone who put you less than number one on their priority list. Because you deserve the love and attention that this world could offer to you.”

There he goes, the insecurity that always crept inside his mind. The same pit of hell that he was falling to since his childhood time. The feeling of not being good enough. Either it’s for something that he loves, volleyball, or someone that he loves, you. Hearing that, you took one step forward, holding his cheek with one of your palms.

“You are not the one who should be the judge of that.” He looked at your face, sensing the same love radiated from your eyes, “It was my choice to have you as my boyfriend, it was the path that I want to walk into, it was where I belong to, with you.” He couldn’t hold it anymore, the tears that he tried so hard to hide, “And it’s my decision to keep you in my life, Tooru. It’s what I choose for the rest of my life, loving you.”

Now he was the one who broke down, gasping for air because of the guilt to put you in a disastrous life for five years. Surviving alone in this world while a half of your heart was taken from you. He let himself fall into his own insecurity. He was being selfish, not even trying to communicate his thoughts with you. The result? Two broken hearted people that were struggling with their own demons for the last five years.

“How come you could love me after I left you like that?” He really questioned your heart, because he still knew that he didn’t deserve to feel your unconditional love, “For goodness sake, I LEFT YOU WITHOUT SAYING ANYTHING!”

“I don’t know, Tooru.” You really didn’t know the reason why, “What I know is that I couldn’t stop loving you. Not even a second,” You lead him to the nearest bench, letting his head fall on your shoulders, “Even if you didn’t love me anymore, it’s not in my dictionary to ever stop loving you.” He jolted when he heard the statement that was rolling from your mouth.

“W-Who said I didn’t love you anymore?” You too were taken aback by his question,

“T-Then, who did you kiss yesterday outside of the gymnasium?” He widened his eyes. You were there, you were there to see him yesterday. He cursed the fate that didn’t bring the two of you together faster. So you were here right now to see him, not because any other reason, not even for a business meeting.

“Goodness,” He chuckled bitterly, “It was Lucia, my landlord’s daughter, s-she has a crush on me, I think?” One of his hands grasped yours, “But the only one who was always in my mind was you, only you.” You were skeptical at first, you didn’t know how much someone could change within the span of years, “You could ask all of my teammates. Ask them who is the woman in my phone wallpaper, ask them who I always mention every time I get drunk.” His voice was desperate, trying to assure you that you were the only woman who ever lived in his heart.

You jolted when you heard the reminder call for your flight, and he realised it immediately when you gripped his hand tighter. He only give you a faint smile, putting his lips on the back of your hand,

“W-What are we now, Tooru?” You need that, you need one absolute answer before you are back to reality, “I couldn’t live with uncertainty haunting the back of my mind again, I could be going insane, Tooru. I-”

“I am yours, I always be yours.” He shushed you with a little kiss on your forehead, “Remember that, don’t leave anything behind. Keep looking forward, okay?” You sobbed at this. It’s not enough, his words were so vague that you didn’t know how to process it, “I will be there, so keep looking forward.” He leaned down a little, trailing his lips to yours slowly.

That one gesture was enough to make you feel alive.

It was soft and filled you with energy. Both of you closed your eyes and shut everything outside. The kiss was something that you couldn’t quite put what’s the meaning of it. But you know it reassures you that everything would be okay from now on. That everything will unfold beautifully in time. He let go of the kiss and put his lips on your forehead one last time.

“You should go home now.” His voice was sweet and filled with love, “Remember to always look forward.”

“But, Tooru, my home is-”

“I know, my home is when I am with you too.” You chuckled at this, the two of you could still read each other’s mind even after all this time, “Then go back to Japan, I will call Iwa-chan to pick you up later. He will be happy knowing our reunion.” You still wanted to say a lot of things to him, but the last call for your flight interrupted it, “Go, my queen. I will be there in your life someday.”

You bit your lips, trying to hold your tears to slip again. So you stood up, him following your movement. He leaned down and kissed you on your cheek before pushing you to the gate. You giggled with how childish he still is sometimes, one of his traits that wouldn’t change by time. He waited for you as you showed your plane ticket to the officer.

You stole a glance towards him, a smile appeared on your face, “I just need to look forward, right?” He nodded,

“Yeah, and I’ll be there.” He smiled at you, making you let out a happy tear before turning your head to your plane who will bring you back to your hometown. The brunette stood still, the smile never left his face even when your figure was already out of his sight.

There’s a sound of footsteps behind him, he didn’t have to turn his head to see who they were. His captain stood beside him, following his gaze to the now empty hallway. The genuine smile that plastered on his face was the only sign he needed.

“So, that’s her huh?” The older man voiced his interest, “You didn’t tell her that this tournament is your last game with us?” Oikawa chuckled and only shook his head at this.

“Hm, no need.” The statement caught the captain off guard. The brunette just turned around and grabbed his bag from his teammate’s hand.

“Why? Don’t you fear that she might find someone in the meantime?” His captain was just concerned, but at the same time questioned the setter’s intention.

Oikawa just smiled, remembering that you promised you would only look forward. You have been in love with him for five years even when you live with uncertainty on every single step that you took. His eyes emitted confidence at the thought of you, something that he finally felt again.

“I am not afraid,” His mind kept lingering on yours, the one where he will come back to on any journey that he passed, “She will wait for me, and I’ll be there with her again.”

And one day, the two souls who were so long apart will be coming back home to each other, and both of them were certain of it.

#oikawa tooru #oikawa tooru x reader #oikawa #oikawa imagine #oikawa scenarios #haikyuu #haikyuu!!#hq #hq!!#haikyuu imagine #oikawa angst #oikawa x reader #haikyuu scenarios #haikyuu scenario

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hermannsthumb · 4 years

Note

"newt isn’t sleazy and is also too busy wrestling with the ethics of hitting on his hot TA if the guy is 5 months older than him to even notice" pleeeease write this

Anonymous asked: "When I Kissed the Teacher" AU ft professor newt and his hot 5-month-older TA hermann

and coincidentally, this older one

Anonymous asked: i just rewatched mamma mia 2 and was wondering if i could request a "when i kissed the teacher" newmann fic?? love your writing!!!!!!

Ask And Ye Shall Receive. sorry ive been MIA 😔 concept from this post I made earlier this month. idk what class newt teaches that hermann would be qualified to TA for but just like, decide for yourselves

---------------------

Newt’s never been a list-making kind of guy, or--for that matter--even really a planning ahead kind of guy, but certain circumstances have thrown his life more out of wack than usual lately, and he kind of needs the stability the like of things like lists offer. Desperate times and everything. Or, at the very least, Newt is desperate.

So Newt plans, and plots, and deliberates, and he even agonizes a little, but most of all, he makes a list.

On one half of the page, he writes pros. On the other, he writes cons. On top, he writes--what else?--Hermann.

The problem started in late August. Newt knew for months he was going to be assigned a teaching assistant come that semester--it was him, after all, who’d suggested it to the dean in the first place--but the Hermann Gottlieb of extensive, impressive, overachieving CV and overly-former cover letter was a far cry from Hermann Gottlieb in the flesh. Newt expected a dork, frankly. Someone too socially awkward to feel brave enough to thank someone for holding a door open for him. He expected a PhD student so eager to please he’d cater to Newt’s every whim, whether it was grading horrendous freshman lab reports or fetching him a sandwich from the commissary between class sections.

They met for the first time at the campus coffee shop. Hermann was dressed in an oversized pair of slacks, a threadbare green sweatervest, and honest-to-God saddle shoes; the buttons of his Oxford were done up all the way, from the collar to the cuffs, and an ornate cane was settled against his thigh. His haircut was tragic. “Dr. Geiszler,” he said, all clipped and English, and held his hand out to Newt. “Hermann Gottlieb. It is a great pleasure to meet you. I’m an admirer of your work.”

"Sup,” Newt said, and tried to bump their fists together.

Newt knew he was in deep shit then. It wasn’t just because Hermann was gorgeous (which he was, in a sort of weird, frumpy, ripped-outta-1945 way), or that the scowl he proceeded to level Newt with made his soul wither and his heart race a little bit too fast, but both of those things in conjunction with a big one: Newt was, and is, so fucking love-starved. It’s an unfortunate byproduct of being made a professor when he was as young as he was and completing a PhD before he completed puberty. His early twenties should’ve been spent dyeing his hair terrible colors and adding to his already impressive tattoo collection and having questionable hookups with other young twentysomethings; unfortunately, the only young twentysomethings Newt ever seems to come across are his students, and he has a very strict code of ethics. Not to mention it wasn’t like he was getting any action before that as a weird, gangly teenager with peers several years his senior. He was bound to latch onto the first genius hottie who crossed his path who wasn’t trying to flirt their way into bumping that B- to a B+. And better yet, Hermann is five whole months his senior!

The shit only got deeper when the semester started. No, Hermann was not the sort to fetch Newt sandwiches, or coffee, or Aspirin from his office, nor was he the sort to handle the dreaded lab reports (at least not unless Newt handled them with him), and he definitely wasn’t eager to please. Newt, anyway. If anything the opposite was true: he seemed to actively derive enjoyment from undermining Newt at every turn.

“Wrong,” he’d mutter during class if Newt screwed something up in a lecture, or “No, Geiszler, you’re doing it wrong again,” or “How in the blazes did you get three bloody PhDs when you can’t even do simple addition?” and snatch Newt’s dry erase marker away to scrawl his own answers on the whiteboard. It was less like having a TA and more like having...well, a bitchy, annoying co-teacher. Or, God help Newt, a colleague. And boy, did he wave those five months over Newt’s head like a fucking flag. Newt was immature; inexperienced; clearly not as serious about his studies--his completed studies--as Hermann. Meanwhile Newt’s class (bright young twenty somethings, taller than Newt, cooler than Newt, with more friends than Newt) would giggle and snicker, and Hermann would look smug.

It drove Newt fucking batty.

It also made him, like, super turned on.

The two can co-exist. Apparently. Hermann Gottlieb is already helping Newt discover new and existing concepts; what a fucking excellent TA he is. Someone give that man a raise.

So Newt draws up a list, and he writes Pros, and he writes Cons, and he writes Hermann. The pros are regrettably easy to come up with, because Hermann is Hermann, and (bitchiness and undermining of Newt aside) it’s unfair how many he has. Hot. Stupid sexy accent. Stupidly smart. This is crossed out and replaced with so smart he makes me feel stupid (in a good way), because it seems like an important distinction. Glasses on chain. Mysterious. (In a tall, dark, and handsome way. Sort of. Average height--which is tall to Newt, pale, and handsome. He still scowls more than he talks, which makes him feel mysterious. In a Bronte sort of way. Newt can picture Hermann drawing a billowing cloak around his shoulders and stalking some desolate moor in the moonlight, though in this case maybe’s more of a puffy parka than a cloak.) In tiniest font of all is makes me laugh, because Hermann does, goddamn it, with his snide asides and cutting remarks and sarcasm, often not even directed at Newt when it’s just the two of them alone in Newt’s office at night.

The placement of “is my TA” on the chart is acting as a particular annoyance to Newt, entirely on account of the fact that he can think of several pros and cons for that as well, and he’s not sure whether to nestle it between dark eyelashes and once called me a moron in front of my class and I got a hard-on or beneath sweaters smell like sweat and mothballs, has annoying tic of clearing throat when lost in thought, and the dick wins 86% of our arguments. Sexy forbidden fling. Abuse of power. Is older than me so it's not as weird as it could be? I’m his boss. The school’s paying Hermann though, not Newt, and it’s not like he’s going to scurry off to the dean and demand Hermann’s funding slashed if Hermann turns him down (which he’d most likely do). But it still feels like a breach of ethics.

On the other hand, Hermann is exactly the sort of guy he’d try to pick up at a bar if he still did things like that. (Tenure, rather than giving Newt breathing space to kick back and relax a little, has only increased his obsession with his work, and now when he gets a Friday night free to himself he mostly switches crap on the TV and falls asleep with his cat on the couch.) It’s about the experience, the impossible task of seducing someone who--by all accounts--is too straight-laced and tight-buttoned to indulge in something that debase. They were always the best in bed. Tension, Newt knows, has to snap at some point.

He’d like to wrap Hermann’s personal piano wire around his thumb and bang away at the keys until it snaps, too. Ethics, Newt thinks (folding up the list and stuffing it out of sight), his ass.

Newt sacrifices a Friday night with his cat and Unsolved Mysteries in favor of working on a solution to his Hermann Problem. Swamped with work, he tells Hermann over the phone, it fucking sucks, dude, I could really use your help in my office, and Hermann grumbles, and snaps that Newt should learn to be better prepared for his own damn classes, but declares he’ll be on campus in half an hour and that Newt will be ordering him takeaway for dinner as an apology.

The door swings open at half past five. Hermann is bundled in that heavy parka and scarf (which, even for a Boston November, still looks a little too warm), and his hair is damp. “Is it raining?” Newt says, perhaps stupidly, because there’s not a single droplet of water anywhere else on Hermann’s body.

Hermann makes a face at him and pushes the door shut with his cane. “No,” he says, tersely.

“Then why...” Newt touches his own hair.

“I was taking a bloody bath,” Hermann snaps. “I don’t work on Fridays, as you well know, Newton.”

The use of his full first name stings Newt oddly even as the notion of Hermann luxuriating in a bathtub excites him. “That’s Dr. Geiszler,” Newt snaps back, because goddamn it, he’s Hermann’s boss, he deserves respect, and then mentally adds a small, depressing tally to the Cons half of the board. Ethics, ethics.

“Oh, I’m terribly sorry, Dr. Geiszler,” Hermann says. He throws his scarf and coat viciously at the small couch in the corner of Newt’s office, then takes his usual seat across from Newt. “Well? Where are those papers it’s so crucial we grade?”

Hermann in a bathtub, Newt thinks. Hermann naked. Papers, Newt thinks. “Papers,” Newt says, and he shoves a stack at Hermann with twice as much force as he means to, causing several to flutter to the ground. “We need...to grade them,” he says. Hermann naked, in a bathtub, maybe some candles lit around him, some nice music on, daydreaming about that wretched professor he works for. Damn it. “I have a pen,” he says. “To grade.”

“What on earth are you saying?” Hermann says. “Be quiet. I can’t concentrate with your abominable prattling on.” Then he mumbles something that sounds like incessant, rips the top paper off the stack, and begins to slash at it in red ink. He doesn’t bother gathering the two from the ground.

Why did Newt invite him here, again?

Oh, right. He pushes his glasses up his nose and feigns casualness, pulling out another paper for himself to grade. “A bath,” he says. “Just to, uh, relax? Or...?”

Hermann narrows his eyes. “Or?”

Newt shrugs. “It’s Friday. Were you getting ready for a date or something?”

This time, Hermann’s mouth twists down into a frown. Almost suspicious. “Why do you care?” he says.

“I don’t,” Newt says quickly. “Just making small talk.” God, he could picture some stud of a computer science PhD candidate winning Hermann over with techno babble--or maybe one of his fellow students, ugh, maybe they made a study group together that meets Friday nights, and Hermann was getting all gussied up, goddamn handsome astrophysics grad students--

“I was relaxing,” Hermann says. “You must be aware at this point you cause me a great deal of stress, Dr. Geiszler, on a daily basis.”

“Oh,” Newt says.

He gives up on the small talk after that. Hermann’s promised takeout arrives--a small carton of pad thai--as does Newt’s--a large carton of the spiciest thing they had on the menu--and they eat in silence. They have about three-quarters of the papers to go when Hermann suddenly sits back in his seat with a groan and rubs at his eyes under his granny glasses. “Bugger,” he says. “I can’t fathom this one for the life of me. I’m too tired.”

“It’s getting kinda late,” Newt agrees. “Maybe we should--”

“It’s not that,” Hermann says. “I had a glass of wine earlier, and--oh, it doesn’t matter. Your students need to learn how to write in a way that’s actually bloody legible--it’s like chicken scratch.”

Newt hops up and leans over his shoulder, squinting down at the page. Hermann’s hair smells nice, like something floral, and his skin has a small hint of what could almost be cologne. Why is Hermann wearing cologne? “Okay, let me see it,” Newt says, struggling to keep from getting lightheaded at the close proximity to Hermann. “I’m used to that kind of shit.”

“No,” Hermann says, drawing the paper close to his chest. “I am perfectly capable of managing it on my own.”

“Dude,” Newt says, “let me look at it, seriously. Hermann--”

He manages to tug it away from him. The handwriting is pretty bad, but the math seems to be worse. “Didn’t they do the readings?” Newt mutters under his breath. “That’s not even the right equation for the diameter. I gave them a cheat sheet, man.” They’re junior year engineering students--they should know this shit.

“I know what the equation is,” Hermann snaps. “I can grade it on my own. Give it back.”

“I didn’t say you didn’t know,” Newt says, “I said this kid--”

“It’s the radius squared--”

“Hermann, dude,” Newt says, “I know you’re--”

And that’s when Hermann grabs him by his skinny tie and kisses him, hard.

They stare at each other afterwards. Hermann’s eyes are as wide as saucers; his mouth is hanging open. Newt’s tie slips from his fingers, which then fall limp to his lap. “Holy shit,” Newt squeaks.

Hermann is gone with a swish of his parka and a loud clack of his cane. And with a stack of papers Newt still has to somehow get through. Figures.

Their next few classes together are subdued. Hermann doesn’t interject any of his biting commentary or corrections, or even offer critiques of Newt’s lack of professionalism (when in the past his skinny jeans were such an easy target), and when the period is over, he practically sprints from the classroom before he and Newt can be alone together for even a second. It’s fine by Newt. Whatever. Maybe Hermann can get over it over Thanksgiving break, and Newt can try to get over the memory of Hermann’s strong fingers tugging him down, Hermann’s floral shampoo, Hermann’s chapped, wide lips against his, the little grunt of shock Hermann made as he did it, like he couldn’t believe his own audacity...

It’s not likely.

It’s December, the last week before finals, and Newt’s in his office bundled up in a sweatshirt (because the heat never seems to fucking work in here), revising a draft of an exam, and dreading the thought of trudging home in the snow, when there’s suddenly a knock at his door. Anticipating some overeager freshman here outside of office hours, he doesn’t look up as he says “Come in.”

A familiar clearing of a throat.

Newt shoots straight up to his feet. He knocks a mug of coffee to the floor in the process. “Hermann,” he says. “Uh. Hi. What--what are you doing here?”

Hermann shuts the door behind him, then takes a careful step forward. He’s back in his big dumb coat and big long scarf. “I thought I ought to tell you myself first,” he says, primly. “I’ve submitted a request to the dean to be reassigned to another professor next semester. Our research interests are far more in line, and I don’t imagine our personalities shall clash as much.”

“Oh,” Newt says, pretending his heart isn't sinking in his chest like a hunk of lead. Was he that bad of a kisser? He feels like he deserves a second shot at it--he wasn’t ready last time, you know, he bets he’d really wow Hermann if he had a fair heads up. “Are.. are those the only reasons why?”

“No,” Hermann admits. “They’re not.”

He crosses the room, and corners Newt against his desk before Newt even realizes what’s happening. “They’re not,” he says again, then adds in a murmur (lifting one hand to brush his fingers against Newt’s hair), “Dr. Geiszler.”

Neither of them talk much, after that.

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #thxstral

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sincerlypadfoot · 4 years

Text

Fantastic Beasts (1)

~After working with Fantastic beats from your parents you track one leading you to New York, running into Aurors who aren’t’ happy to have you there and one wizard joined with a muggle

Send Requests Here

Word Count - 1561

“Darling come look at this,” Mr Dario, my father called out from his office. “I found it!” He called out again, I lifted my head out of the bathroom doorway and came running to my dads office.

“What is it?” I asked running in and looking at the paperwork on his desk. “You found him!” I yelled tossing my hands on my head. “Where it is?” I asked looking at my father who leaned back on his chair.

“New York, I need you to go there and bring him back to our sansuracy. “Avoid to Aurora, your going by portkey I don’t want you being tracked Lyla, okay,” My dad said turning his chair to me. “The occamy is a deadly creature but I believe in you, your portkey leaves at dawn,” He said letting a breath out.

“I’ve waited nearly my whole life to do this, I can do this,” I calmly said kissing my dad on the top of his head and heading back to my room to back for the adventure in New York in a couple hours.

“Are you leaving again?” Doshi Dario, my little brother asked standing at my door. “What are you going after this time?” The fourteen year old kid asked.

“The occamy, come here,” I stopped packing and put my hands out pulling my brother into a hug. “Have fun at hogwarts this year okay,” I whispred leaning my head on the boy who was almost taller than me. “It’s your fourth year, I want you to make memories okay, i’ll write you,” I said letting him go.

“Can we go see some of the Niffler before you go, like we do the night before I go to hogwarts,” Doshi asked smiling at me.

“I only have a couple hours,” I said huffing, turning my head towards my case. I flicked my wand towards my bed letting magic pack my stuff. “We have to me quick okay let's go,” I said pushing my brother out of my room and keeping my wand close to me.

“How are you gonna bring him back?” Doshi asked as we walked down the stairs. “It’s the Occamy like huge, really really big,” he said jumping down the stairs.

“Yeah i’m not sure how i’m gonna do that, but when I find him i’ll figure it out, i’ll be gone for a couple weeks so you have to be good and not get in trouble because I won't be there to laugh with you,” I said to Doshi who was already unlocking the Nifflers.

“I promise I won’t get in trouble well your gone,” Doshi said holding a white Niffler in his hand. “I found a name for this one, Masha, he looked like a panda bear,” He smiled looking down at the baby Niffler who snuggled in his chest.

“Close them up when your done please, I really have to get going,” I said wrapped my arms around my little brother. “I’m gonna miss you so much,” I whispered.

“Yeah i’m just gonna give them some food, i’ll meet you upstairs,” He said as I let him go. “I’m gonna miss you too, so much,” He shouted as I finished walking up the stairs, I heard him laugh making me smile.

“Hey dad is everything set up?” I asked walking by his office, he spun around in his chair with a smile on his face.

“Yep everything is ready, I got you a map, where he was last spotted,” Dad said getting up from his chair and handing me a paper. “I want you to stay safe,” He whispered hugging me tightly.

“Doshie is downstairs with the Nifflers, he should be up here soon, take care of him well i’m gone okay,” I said letting out a chuckle as my dad let me go.

“Go grab your stuff, the portkey should be here soon,” He said walking back into his office, I looked down at the piece of paper in my hand, New York City here I come.

I looked down at the book that sat at my feet, a red golden book just sitting on the floor surrounded by my dad and Doshi.

“I’ll see you both in a couple weeks then,” I said not looking up from the shoe. “How is this gonna work?” I asked looking uncomfortable.

“Just step on top of the book when I say one, it should bring you too New York, I have a apartment set up for you, someone should be waiting for you when you get there,” My dad said pulling out a pocket watch. “Three,” He said as the ticking started. I looked back at Doshi quickly shooting him a smile then looking back down at the book. “Two,” he said pausing. “One,” As the words came out of his mouth I stepped on the book appearing in the middle of New York.

“Miss Dario?” I heard behind me, I spun around to a man dressed in fancy clothes. “Let me take you to where you’ll be staying,” He said pivoting on his feet. “Your father told me that you love a view, so i’ve gotten you the best room with a view,” He formerly said opening a door to a apartment building. “Room 352, here is your key,” The man said handing me a key and walking out of the building.

“Weird,” I mumbled looking down at the key in my hand. “Well here I go,” I whispred to myself making my way up the stairs. Five minutes later I had gotten to my room. “Wonderful,” I chuckled looking around, the room was fully furnished and the windows were open blowing the curtains. A view of New York stood infront of me.

“Hey Aurora,” Queenie Goldstein said excited running up to me and hugging me. “You dad told me you were coming to New York, I had to offer you my place to stay,” She chippered.

“Queenie,” I chuckled wrapping my arms around her. “I never thought I would see you so soon, how have you been?” I asked letting her go and looked at her. “You changed your hair, I like it,” I admired smiling.

“I’ve been good my sister Tina is living here too, i’m not sure if you’ve met her yet but i’ve moved in with her,” Queenie said practically jumping around. “Let me show you your room, I made it nice and loving just for you, my sister should be back soon, would you like anything to drink?” She asked pulling me forward towards a room straight ahead of us.

“I’m good Queenie, tell me about New York, is it just as amazing as everyone says?” I asked but stopped when we walked into the room. “This is amazing,” I smiled looking all around.

“New York is the best Aurora, unpack your stuff, i’ll make you something to eat, I insist,” Queenie said leaving the room, letting me do my own thing. Still crazy and weird like always, I said in my head. “I heard that,” Queenie shouted making me chuckle.

“Stop reading my mind,” I yelled back making Queenie laugh, I opened my bag tossing my stuff into the closet with magic, tossing my things onto the shelfs, my pictures placed perfectly on the shelves.

“Tina, we have a guest,” I heard Queenie say in the kitchen. “Auroras here,” She said with mutilie footsteps. “I know you haven’t met her, she went to Iverymore with us,” She said as I walked out of the room and came face to face with Tina.

“Hi,” I smiled recognizing Tina right away. “Your a Aura right?” I asked knowing her from somewhere.

“I’ve worked with your dad before, I know who you are,” TIna said with a smile. “Dario right?” She asked looking over at Queenie then me. “I’m not here for long, I have problems and issues to deal with, i’ll come back later and we can be formally indurduedc, I just came here for something,” Tina siad walking passed me and through the hallway.

“Sorry about here, she just, I don’t what what she really does in a day,” Queenie lightly chuckled handling me the cup in her hand. “I made you tea,” She smiled, I took a drink and smiled.

“Thank you for letting me stay here Queenie,” I said placing the cup down on the counter. “Do you have a bathroom I can use?” I asked looking around the room.

“First door down on the right, i’ll just be in the living room,” Queenie said taking her cup of tea and walked away, leaving me alone to rummage around the house looking for the bathroom.

“That door there,” Tina said pointing to the door that had a butterfly on the door. “I’ll be back tonight, make yourself at home,” She said walking passed me out the door.

I walked into the bathroom and leaned against the bathroom sink, having no desire but the stand in here. I looked up to the roof but was quickly caught off with a stud in my pocket followed with klanking.

“Masha?” I humbly said pulling out the white Niffler in my pocket whos pocket was filled with my rings and chains. “What are you doing here?” I asked looking at the little guy who just smiled at me. “Doshi,” I smiled shaking my head.

#Newt #newt scamander #NewtScamander #newt scamander x you #newt scamander x reader #newt scamander x y/n

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songfell-ut · 4 years

Text

Chapter 10, one month in!

Man, I might actually finish this. Link here and @lostmypotatoes remains great.

This one mostly features Frisk having enough of everyone’s shit.

When Sans had composed himself enough to leave the wallpaper behind, he found Dr. Serif double-checking the paperwork while Frisk rustled around in her dressing room. As soon as she emerged in her black dress, the doctor said, "I have a request, Sans. When you escort Snowdrake home, I'd like you to stay in human form. Two monsters going anywhere without an owner will attract too much attention, especially near the border, and we should see whether your disguise can fool another monster. Do you think you can masquerade as a human who is using Sans' magic?"

Sans didn't like the idea – in fact, he completely hated it – but he was in the mood to think before he spoke, and the more he did, the more it made sense. "Yeah, I guess. If I told 'im who I was, he'd probably think I'd been brainwashed or somethin'. Everyone would be weird about it when I got home."

"Exactly." The royal sorcerer rolled the papers back up and placed the scroll on the edge of the table. "Does Sans need to bring the deed to the house with him in case he's questioned, my lady?"

"No, I've written a note and put my seal on it. Here's a map with the house marked, and I also have an insignia he can carry." The priestess went to a little nook by the fireplace, glanced at herself in the mirror, and opened a drawer full of odds and ends. "Where is...ah." Frisk pulled out a leather armband. "This will identify you as the High Priestess' personal agent. I don't use it often, but anyone you speak to should recognize it."

Sans had retrieved his silver chain from the bedroom. He looped it around his neck, put the smaller items in his overcoat, and accepted the armband, admiring the patterns of tiny white and red crystals worked into the leather. "Spiffy. So, if anyone asks me who I am an' where I'm takin' Snowdrake, I can tell 'em to shove it?"

"You will not tell anyone to shove it." He winced at her tone—yep, she was still mad at him. "Furthermore, please remember your fortune. No matter what happens, unless it is absolutely the only way to keep yourself and Snowdrake safe, I don't want you to kill anyone." She swept an errant lock of hair behind her ear, voice softening. "Please, Sans."

The boss monster's SOUL fluttered. He looked down at the armband, which was more of a wristband at his human size. "Fine," he said, trying to sound careless. "I'll talk first, only kill 'em if they really, really bug me."

"Sans!" He'd forgotten that Frisk had the lungs to roar like a miniature hurricane. "Do you care about anything but yourself and what you want to do? If you kill anyone and you cannot come back here and look me in the eye to tell me why it was necessary, I don't want you to come back at all! Do you understand?!"

Sans was speechless. As her echoes bounced off the corners of the room, he not only couldn't think of what to say, it felt like the magic comprising his vocal cords had evaporated.

Into the silence fell the sound of someone rapping on the double doors. Frisk whipped on her veil and headdress, allowing the bemused Dr. Serif to get up and admit two armed guards.

Between the men drooped a birdlike, half-grown monster roughly four feet tall, ice forming on the chains around its neck and feet. Without preamble, the priestess snapped her fingers at the guards and said, "Remove his bonds. Now."

The shorter guard coughed as Snowdrake shrank further back. "He is secured with the commonest type of lock. Your Ladyship will doubtless possess the key already," the guard mumbled.

Though her features were obscured by the veil, the High Priestess' body language was so expressive of absolute wrath that the men swallowed and gripped their weapons tighter. Without turning her head, she said to Sans in measured, glacial tones, "Get rid of those chains."

"As milady wishes," Sans said cheerfully, raising his left hand. The guards didn't notice the red mist surrounding the collar or shackles, but they did see the metal burst into fragments; the men nearly wet themselves as the rest of the chains fell off the startled drake.

"Leave us," ordered Frisk, and they were happy to obey, one pausing to grab the scroll and the other nearly running out the doors ahead of him.

Snowdrake's beak fluttered open, but he shut it and cringed as Frisk reached for his neck. "That's Sans' magic," whispered the young monster. "How'd you get him?"

Frisk placed her hand on his head, feeling him tremble. "He's unharmed, and he's given us his magic in order to help return you to the Underground." She brushed the last few links off his feathery neck, trying to avoid the half-healed scabs where the collar had rubbed him raw. "I am not your new owner, Snowdrake. You're going to be free."

The ice monster's eyes darted between her and the two men. "Yes, my lady," he said woodenly.

The poor kid. Sans knew exactly what it was like to be at a human witch's mercy and having to hear that kind of crap. Only the knowledge that she wasn't lying and Snowdrake would be home soon kept Sans from dropping the disguise right then and there.

"My guard will escort you as close as he can to the entrance to the Underground," Frisk told Snowdrake, then looked at Sans. "You shouldn't have trouble, but if you run into poachers, I'm giving you full authority to protect yourselves through non-lethal means. Is that understood?"

Sans nodded. To his surprise, Dr. Serif cleared his throat. "I think you had better take this as well. Consider it repayment." He produced yet another brooch from his robe, this one large and faintly pink. Sans wondered irritably how many of them he still had. "If you use this to supplement the magic you already possess, you can make the journey in a few easy stages. Pace yourself, and do not hurry back." He sat down as Sans put the brooch away. "Several people in the plot against Her Eminence have already been detained. We will maintain a watch in case anyone else involved decides to strike before they're discovered, and I will personally check on her throughout the day."

"Indeed," said Frisk. "Please take your time."

Holy shit, that hurt. The boss monster plunged his hands into his pockets to avoid breaking anything. "Breakfast should be here in a moment," the priestess went on, "and as soon as you've—" Right on cue, there was another knock at the door. "—both eaten, we'll pack something for you to take with you."

Sans tried to catch her eye, but she went back to the office as the servant unloaded the trolley. Snowdrake made no move to eat until Sans put a plate down and told him, "Go for it," at which the ice monster almost literally dove in. There was no telling the last time he'd had enough to eat, so Sans didn't ask, letting Snowdrake devour nearly everything and gulp down all the milk.

Fortunately, there was a bundle of apples and sandwiches sitting on the bottom of the trolley, along with three flasks of water and one of cider. "I ordered extra provisions. You'll need to keep your strength up," said Dr. Serif, waving away Sans' muttered thanks. He checked that Snowdrake was done, then called, "They're leaving, my lady."

Frisk reemerged, still veiled. "The best of luck to you both," she said.

Sans picked up the bundle, tucking it under his arm. "Sure, boss. See you when I get back." He jerked his head at Snowdrake, who was peering up at him, eyes half closed. "C'mon." Sans shouldered the doors open for the smaller monster to trudge through; a second later, the guard outside made a squeaky sound that indicated Sans had teleported them away.

The priestess sank into a chair, shoulders slumping as she pulled off her headdress. Dr. Serif cleared his throat. "You look as though you need more rest, Your Eminence. Unless, of course, you'd like to talk about your—"

"No. Thank you," she said, loud and sharp. Frisk picked up a fresh stack of letters, sorting them into different piles according to the wax seals or lack thereof. "I have a great deal of correspondence to catch up on, and I'll be very dull company for the next several hours. I'm sure you also have a great deal of work to do—have you started drafting your proposed specifications for the first set of solar arrays?"

"Yes, my lady. In fact, I've scheduled a meeting later this morning with several of my colleagues to discuss the matter. I'll be back this afternoon, but if you need anything at all in the meantime..."

"Thank you," she said again, a little more calmly. "I also must thank you for your help earlier with Sans. Did you figure out why he was acting so strange? I can't believe he grabbed me like that! I don't know what he could have been thinking."

The doctor made a wry face at her back. "I'm not sure how it happened, my lady. I don't believe he intended to become inebriated, but that is certainly what he was." He paused. "I will also keep you apprised of developments in Fernand's interrogation. Your Eminence will be glad to know that Lord Owen has been cleared of suspicion, more than adequately."

Frisk looked daggers at him. "Has he?"

"Indeed," he said gravely. "The moment his friend was arrested, Lord Owen volunteered to answer questions under hypnosis. He was tested beforehand for any magic with which he might have resisted or subverted the procedure, which ensured his answers were completely truthful. He is guiltless, and can offer no further information."

She nodded, returning to the next stack of letters. Why did she feel just the tiniest bit disappointed?

It was no use pretending. In her too-honest, very tired mind, she knew exactly why: it would've been the ideal excuse to reject him and find another suitor for her "adequate" future. It wasn't at all nice, but facts were facts. No matter how much she wanted to be married, having Luke as a husband would be like sleeping with her brother!

So, that just left...who?

The doctor coughed theatrically. "Before I go, my lady..."

Something made Frisk look up at him. Dr. Serif gave her a brief smile, and said with unusual delicacy, "With no intrusion intended or opinion attached, I beg that you inform me if and when you wish to safely dispose of your box. Whatever may be inside it, I assume there is magic involved, and throwing it away without the proper precautions may have consequences."

Frisk picked up an envelope and hissed between her teeth as she felt the paper slice her thumb. "I understand, Doctor. Good day to you."

He half-smiled. "And to you, my lady." When she looked up a moment later, he was already gone.

If Frisk had ever had a more miserable day as High Priestess, she didn't want to remember when. She hadn't just been trying to get rid of the royal sorcerer; she really did have a pile of mail to get through. The only attention she paid to the proposals was to make a stack of rejects, maybes, and actual prospects. Then she threw the maybes into the reject pile. Then she had to literally grab her own wrist to keep from dumping the entire basket into the fireplace—if she was destined to either marry Lord Owen or hop right into bed with someone unmarriageable, why bother wading through any of these?

A small, flat package at the bottom of the stack puzzled her until she opened it and several bookmarks fell out. Right: she'd ordered them when Sans got after her one time too many for her uncouth reading habits. She could fold all the pages she wanted today, Frisk tried to tell herself, but it just made her wish he was here to tell her to leaf them alone or mark his words. When she got another paper cut, she started to ask him to heal it for her, only to realize she was speaking to an empty room. She had to make do by washing her hands and applying tiny bits of ointment that came right off when she picked up more envelopes.

Just before lunch, Frisk told herself she'd earned a break and went in to flop on the enormous bed. Would Sans be back tonight? If he wasn't back by evening, should she go ahead and sleep in here, knowing he could come back inexplicably drunk and try to cuddle her again?

...She couldn't shake the idea. Technically, she should be scared at the idea of a ten-foot monster with no inhibitions invading her space when she was most vulnerable, but...she wasn't. Not remotely. In fact, her imagination was running with it so fast that she couldn't catch up, much less stop it. Frisk actually had to remind herself that Sans was a skeleton, only for her self to remind her that there were approximately two hundred creative ways around that particular deficit. Ah, well. It was all stupid, harmless tired-brain fantasy about someone she was comfortable with, not as if she was going to marry him or anything...

This was ridiculous. It had only been a few hours, and she was still furious with him, but she missed Sans so much that she could barely function.

There was another knock, and the priestess scowled as she got up to put on her veil and answer the outside door. To her surprise, it was Luke, holding a tiny velvet jewelry pouch out to her. "Good morning, Your Eminence," he said as she pasted on a smile. "Forgive my intrusion, but I came to return this in person."

Frisk opened the drawstrings and pulled out her pearl bracelet, the one he'd removed so the parrot wouldn't destroy it. "Oh. Thank you," she said automatically. Luke waited for more, and she glanced behind her. "I am sorry, Lord Owen, but you've caught me in the middle of decanting. The fumes will be potentially harmful once the mixture has heated, so..."

"It's quite all right. I didn't intend a long visit," he assured her. "I wanted to ask if you've had a chance to look over the contact information I forwarded to you."

Thank God she had found his note in her mail, or else she wouldn't have remembered the farmland at all. "Yes, I have, thank you," she replied. "I'll send your broker an inquiry with the name of my banker. Shall I inform you when I hear back from her?"

"If it's quite convenient, yes, please." The young lord shuffled his feet, as if he was suddenly uncomfortable about something. "Fr—Your Eminence, may I ask if any of the rumors about the All Souls festival are accurate?"

The guard at her door had been doubled, and she couldn't help noticing how both of them were waiting to hear her answer. "Forgive my bluntness, Lord Owen, but I don't know what you're talking about. I have no time for ridiculous gossip," she almost snapped.

"Yes, of course, of course. I'm the one who must beg forgiveness. I'm sure you would never..." Her stare intensified, and he hastened to say, "The last reason I've trespassed on your time is that I am preparing to visit St. Brigid's. I'll be leaving early tomorrow. May I tell Mathilda that you've been well?"

"Absolutely!" Frisk knew this was where she was supposed to ask how his sister was doing in general, how her studies were going, etc. etc., and pass along all sorts of loving messages. But somehow, with her blood still humming and her potential husband right in front of her, and Sans not there to see, she had just one thought: "Could you give her something from me?"

"Yes, of course," he said pleasantly. "What is it?"

Frisk nodded, stepped forward and gave him a quick, decisive hug, careful to get her arms all the way around him before she stepped back. "Please excuse me," she said, "but I haven't seen Mathilda since Christmas, and I miss her very much. I hope you understand."

"Uh..." Luke blinked hard. "Yes, my lady. I'll see her and give her...that. Thank very much, and a good day to you." He bowed vigorously and turned on his heel, speed-walking down the hall in flustered elation.

Ignoring the guards' smirks, the High Priestess went back inside and slammed the doors, removing her veil again. She knew she should be embarrassed or at least care what they were going to say about her, but really, half the city was probably placing bets on who she'd be sleeping with in however many days or hours, so what was one brief embrace?

It was nothing. That was what she'd felt, anyway. Part of her was surprised at her own cold-heartedness, but Frisk knew what had happened when she hugged Sans, and she was certain that no matter how long she snuggled up to Luke, it wouldn't feel remotely similar; if he had put his arm around her, it would've just annoyed her. At least she had eliminated any remaining doubt: Luke could offer her pleasant company, and that was all. Not warmth, or real companionship, or gentleness, laughter, intellectual stimulation, literal attraction...

There went her imagination again. The workroom was still cold from however long Sans had had the windows open, but she had to pick up some papers to fan herself. It was quite a relief when lunch arrived and she could eat Sans' portion to make up for missing breakfast, then retire to the bedroom.

Having spent so much of her early life on her own, Frisk had been shocked when she came to St. Brigid's and discovered that even in a convent, the primary occupation of adolescent girls seemed to be talking about boys, or sex, or any combination thereof. She understood now that they had had very little else to talk or think about, and that being in a strict religious environment meant that there were no other outlets for their perfectly normal teenage curiosity, but those first few months had been eye-opening, to say the least.

To their credit, the sisters were aware of this and knew very well that after the lights went out in the dormitory, the girls would stuff their pillows under their covers to create a laughable illusion of being in bed, crawl to the center of the floor, and whisper to each other until they forgot themselves and laughed too loud at something, which was the cue for the proctor on duty to shout "BED" and send them flying back to their cots. It was probably also why everyone had to undergo a comprehensive sexual education course when they turned fourteen, and of course, the girls who could tell penis jokes for literal hours on end felt quite differently about the matter when an eighty-year-old priestess was passing out textbooks with full-color drawings and scientific labels.

In short, Frisk knew exactly what she was feeling and why. She'd never had the nerve to try anything when she was sleeping in an open room with dozens of other girls and young women, but once she moved into these chambers and found she had nearly unlimited privacy, she had finally availed herself of the opportunity to ignore the Church's teachings on self-exploration. Then she had availed herself of the opportunity a lot, figuring that it was harming no one whatsoever, and that she wouldn't have been given those parts if she wasn't meant to use them. But she hadn't done it since Sans arrived, especially not when they were in the same bed.

Sans was not here now, and she wasted no time, pausing only to throw a quilt over herself before she moved her skirt aside and worked her hand into place. She'd never done this in the middle of the day before, but that added a little excitement; what if she was to take down the barrier against teleportation, and he happened to get back right as she was in the middle of it? That would be just awful. Would he even recognize what she was doing, or would he just—

Another knock. Another fecking knock on the outside door as she was getting this close, and she wanted to burn down the entire castle. Frisk kicked the quilt off, pulled her clothes back into place, and stomped over to her veil and circlet before she threw the doors open. This had better be worth the interruption!

Over an hour later, she came back to her rooms with her cluster of guards and, given the general trajectory of the day thus far, was not surprised to find Dr. Serif waiting next to a stack of crates. "Good afternoon," he said. "It seems as if the items you've ordered for your apprenticeship have arrived. Would you like some assistance putting them away?"

Frisk looked at them, and at him, but she could barely speak. "I am overtired, Doctor," she mumbled. "I would appreciate your help, and then I need to rest."

"Of course." The royal scientist opened the double doors and directed the guards to bring the boxes inside while she went to the bathroom to remove her veil and compose herself for a few minutes. It didn't work, but it was long enough for the guards to put everything away and leave, so she only had to worry about the doctor when she emerged.

One look at her was enough. He didn't ask if she was all right, just moved aside a respectful distance as she sat down to check the inventory sheet. "Would you like to talk about it?" he asked kindly.

"No, thank you," she said, voice cracking.

"I understand." The doctor removed the lid from a long box of seedlings and began filling a vial at the sink. "They've found the guard responsible for leaving your door unattended and allowing the assassin into your room. It seems he is affiliated with a local group pushing to decriminalize the retrieval of monsters from the no-man's-land. It should be a valuable link in uncovering more conspirators."

"Excellent. I'm glad to hear it," Frisk said politely, mind still buzzing.

Dr. Serif tipped some water into each seed-bed. "If he avoids detours or anything else he is not supposed to do, Sans should be back late this evening. Don't be alarmed if he takes longer, though. I could easily see him deciding to rush back and overextending himself. He can sleep at your house tonight if need be."

The only sound was water running into the vial and being trickled onto the tiny plants. The doctor glanced at her over his shoulder. "If I may, High Priestess. Please don't go there to wait for him or try to meet him. He should—"

"Get out!"

When the doctor had obediently made himself scarce, Frisk threw her veil on the floor, stormed into the bedroom, and flung herself on the bed for a good, long cry, or at least a long one. It wasn't Dr. Serif's fault that he'd happened to visit right as she was returning from a talk with her father. She hadn't been so angry or humiliated in a long time—of all the people to drag her away from her private time to lecture her about maintaining a good reputation and not sleeping around, why the hell did he think he had the right to do it, especially based on a single stupid rumor? It'd been all she could do not to scream at him that he'd spent his youth screwing his way through most of the kingdom, left her to be neglected almost to death for ten years, and only taken an interest in any of his damn-near-orphans when his second wife died in childbirth and the midwives told him the baby might not survive! How dare he?!

The final nail in the coffin came a few hours later, when she'd finally pulled herself together enough to start writing replies to everything that needed replying to. After many more paper cuts, Frisk was almost done when she heard a knock that she hoped, for the other person's sake, was her dinner.

It was, but it was also another messenger. At least this one wasn't there to take her anywhere, merely to tell her that His Holiness had furnished the records she requested, handing over a folder roughly two inches thick.

Frisk probably should have been glad she could peruse the list of enslaved monsters without Sans hovering over her shoulder, and she was; it was just hard to be happy about much of anything when she was reading all the names and descriptions—she'd felt strongly enough about it when she wasn't remembering how completely beaten Snowdrake had looked, and wondering how many other monsters must be in similar or worse circumstances at that very moment. Her duty now was to go through the list of owners and judge which were probably the absolute worst, and organize inspections as quickly and stealthily as possible.

It all went back to her stupid fortunes. She'd half-purposely led Luke on, and her father had made it very clear that he expected her to make the respectable choice, the hypocritical old goat. The problem was that it was what everyone would expect of her; in the wee hours of the morning, it had felt daring and romantic to contemplate a future where she had a child with a not-husband, but the reality was that it would probably ruin her life, just like her mother's. Frisk was more confused than ever: how could she change the world and free monsters if she did something so socially unacceptable that no one would probably ever speak to her again? But she'd also have new parents and a huge family...how?!

Even if Sans had been a complete idiot at the fortune-teller's table, she wished more than ever that he was here to talk to. Damn Dr. Serif for reading her thoughts so easily. There was still the brooch he'd given her a couple nights ago, but she wanted to save it for a real emergency; besides, it wasn't as if she could do much to help Sans if he simply needed to rest before coming back to the castle...assuming he was coming back.

Frisk shook herself. There was no reason to believe that at all! She had to think more constructively. Wasn't there some way to communicate w—ah, yes, he was able to speak to Papyrus in dreams. She had joined him fairly easily the time she'd tried it. If she took down that barrier again...

...then the child could get in. But Sans wasn't here. Could it make her hurt him in a dream?

That was when Frisk officially gave up on thinking, or working, or doing anything else for the day. It was already after sunset, so she folded up the registry, instructed the guards not to let anyone disturb her unless something was actively on fire, and went to run a bath. Her mind didn't clear much, but it did help relax her, even if she was still too tense to pick up where she'd left off with herself. She put on her fuzziest nightgown, whisked the barrier away and built up a fire in the bedroom, then made a warm nest of blankets and settled herself to sleep, leaving her mind cautiously open.

She woke a little as the bed creaked beside her. She grumbled under her breath and turned away from him, pulling the covers up.

Undeterred, he ducked beneath the covers and draped himself over her side. His hard, smooth fingers caught on her hair as he pushed it out of the way to nuzzle her neck. It was a good start, but he must have been tipsy: she yelped as his nasal bone jabbed her. "sorry," he murmured.

That should've been that; she graciously permitted him to stroke her hair as an apology, and settled back down to sleep.

She should have known better when he started petting her back and down her side, and then rubbed her leg, knowing very well that she'd sleepily turn toward him so he could pet the other one, too. Then came a soft, warm touch on her neck, his hands sliding under her nightshirt, and her nightshirt creeping up as he eased his weight onto her.

"Really?" she tried to ask, but his mouth was in the way, and he easily caught the hand she brought up to push him off, spreading his fingers to interlace them with hers.

He would have stopped if she'd insisted. She didn't. She—

Someone was in her office.

Frisk was not afraid. She was done. She got out of bed with an ache in her groin and murderous resolve in her heart, moving silently through the bedroom and the dark workroom. There was no light showing under the office door, but she could feel ripples through the barrier over her safe as someone dug into the floor around it. With no restraint or remorse, she yanked open the doors and slammed a multi-layered barrier into the room, catching the would-be thief by surprise.

Whoever it was, they were unnaturally strong and agile, nearly catching the edge to squeeze through as it sealed itself off. But it was no use: fueled by angry determination, the barrier snapped shut into a golden sphere, trapping the person inside. The intruder struck at it several times with terrific force, but Frisk held firm until the figure staggered, then fell to its knees, wheezing.

Only then did Frisk click her tongue, dropping the layer that prevented air from getting in, and strengthening the layer that suppressed magic. "Whoever you are, you have ten seconds to explain yourself," she snarled.

A gulping breath. "Please, my lady—"

Frisk was so startled that her concentration wavered. The figure took the opportunity to hit the barrier again, and she promptly cut its air off, waiting several seconds before she allowed any back in. The priestess came forward and peered inside. "...Doctor?"

In the barrier's glow, she could see quite well, and though she knew she had him contained, Frisk felt a twinge of fear. It had sounded exactly like the royal sorcerer, but this was not Dr. Serif. It was a monster, a skeleton with a long, eerie face, much more smooth and hollow-looking than Sans or Papyrus. As it straightened, its arms stayed hidden in the folds of its long, ragged black coat, and several disembodied skeletal hands floated over its shoulders. "The man who speaks in hands," she said to herself. No wonder they were supposed to beware him!

The monster's brow creased. "The man who speaks in hands?" he repeated in Dr. Serif's whispery voice. "How very poetic." Cough. "May I ask where you—"

"You may not!" The barrier constricted, nearly brushing the top of his skull. "Who are you?" she demanded.

The skeleton visibly struggled to answer, and finally croaked, "My name is W.D. Gaster. I am a monster who has been posing as a human in order to maintain my post as the royal sorcerer." He took a deep, shuddering breath. "Young lady, what...what is this?"

Frisk sat down on the couch, which had been moved aside to expose the safe. "I assume you mean the fact that you can't lie to me while you're in there. I'm not much good at truth spells, but I figured out how to incorporate one into a barrier, which I am very good at. I just don't use it very often." On some level, she wasn't surprised that Dr. Serif had been hiding something like this, but she was still afraid—had any of his help or kindness been real, or was it all for some unknown, sinister purpose? Would he try to eliminate her now that she knew what he was?

Gaster was staring at her. Above him, both pairs of hands started a slow clap. "I am extremely impressed, Your Eminence. I am also very apprehensive. As a monster, I cannot match your determination, which means you have me at a complete disadvantage. I must commend you."

The priestess was gratified, but knew better than to drop her guard; she could feel him subtly testing the weave and span of the barrier with unseen hands. "Stop that," she snapped, and he did, tilting his head to concede defeat. "Were you trying to steal my box?"

"Of course," he said. "I infer that it contains your memories, and it is now common knowledge that the future of this world hinges on what you do with it."

Frisk controlled another stab of anger, though she couldn't stop the barrier from popping and snapping like a bonfire. "And you thought you would...what? Dispose of it without asking me?"

"I don't know exactly what I was thinking," Gaster confessed. "I succumbed to intellectual curiosity as to what distilled memories look like, and whether I could view them without disturbing the physical medium. What I would do with them would depend on their contents."

The barrier was now eye-wateringly bright. "You broke into my rooms when Sans wasn't here, damaged my property, and woke me up from a very good dream because you thought you knew better than me what I should do with my life?! How dare you! How dare all of you try to decide this for me?"

"You are completely correct, my lady, and I apologize wholeheartedly." The monster placed his hand on his chest and bowed from the waist. "I swear that I will not presume to meddle any further."

It sounded sincere, but the old priestess who'd helped her develop this technique had been very emphatic: if someone promised something while under a truth spell, there was nothing to stop them from breaking it once the spell ended. "Why are you here?" she asked. "What are your intentions?"

He managed a chuckle. "As I truthfully told your apprentice earlier today, that is a large question." The monster's hands folded into pairs. "I do not believe you will derive any benefit from my entire story, and that most of it will unnecessarily disturb you. May I tell you as much as I sincerely believe will benefit you, and omit that which is not necessary?"

Frisk bit her lip. "I'd prefer to be the judge of that. Answer me, please: what are your intentions towards me, and Sans, and this kingdom in general?"

Gaster didn't reply. Frisk felt him trying to use some kind of magic similar to Sans' to slip out of the barrier, and she gave one sharp whistle; the skeleton's hand went to his throat as his magic dissolved and the air started to thin again. "Please, stop!" he rasped.

The priestess did so, feeling a tiny bit guilty. That rush of anger was starting to fade, but she knew she couldn't let him manipulate her into letting him go before she was ready. The fact that he had been manipulating her up till now was more than enough to steady her resolve. She crossed her arms and stared him down in silence.

A hand came up to massage Gaster's temple. "All right. I...do not intend to harm anyone. I came here solely as an observer, and have only remained for this length of time in order to rectify my errors." He sighed. "As is so often the case, every attempt I make only compounds the problem, and yet I cannot seem to stop."

Frisk shook her head. "I don't want vagueness or lies by omission, Dr. Gaster. Where did you come from, and on whose behalf are you observing us?"

"I came from a place similar to this one. I lived inside Mt. Ebott, which contained the Underground, home to monsters such as Sans, Papyrus, King Asgore, Queen Toriel...to my knowledge, every living monster I knew currently resides here as well."

The priestess' mouth fell open. "How...?"

He made an impatient sound. "As I said, the majority of this information is not necessary to impart. You can do nothing with the knowledge of another Underground, except for the one or two details that are relevant to you and Sans, which I will tell you if you agree to trust me that you do not need the rest. Do we have a deal?"

She exhaled. "Fine. What are you doing here now? Are you gathering information to bring back to your Underground?"

"I dearly wish that this was the case, young lady, but no. I was expelled from my home in an accident, and I no longer exist there. I have been wandering ever since, looking for another place I might settle into." Another sigh. "I know now that it was not only a vain hope, but a dangerous one."

"Dangerous? How so?"

He grimaced. "I found out the hard way, of course. I thought I was doing the right thing when I transplanted a certain monster from a dangerous environment to a safer one where he was needed. I did not know that the danger would follow."

Frisk's skin prickled. "What do you mean? Please start making more sense."

"Very well. To start at the beginning, I must tell you I am not the first W.D. Gaster to have lived in this kingdom or its Underground. Many, many years ago, when I happened upon this place, I went looking for the first item on my checklist: myself. Unfortunately, when I found him, I discovered that your Gaster was easily one of the cruelest I have seen. He conducted horrific experiments on defenseless subjects, both humans and monsters, and he created new life purely to torment it."

The chill increased as Gaster's face darkened. "I was skilled enough to observe him unseen, and his actions disgusted me. I should have left, but when I saw him murder one of his 'sons,' I grew so angry that I could not stop myself. I killed this world's Gaster, and I tried to save his other creation, but it was too late. I broke my policy of noninterference without any real benefit to anyone." He sat down inside the barrier. "Imagine my surprise when I checked the rest of the laboratory and discovered one copy of the younger skeleton ready to awaken, hardly more than a baby. There was no sign that any other creations had survived. I now had a decision to make."

"The 'younger' skeleton? You don't mean—"

"Yes. He created Sans and Papyrus, and he killed them, knowing he could replace them at any time."

The priestess had to fight the urge to be sick all over the office floor. "Couldn't you have taken his place and tried to undo the damage he caused?"

"That was a definite option, and I was tempted. But this is not my home, and I did not want to stay for much longer. I believe I made the correct choice in that respect."

Now she understood why he hadn't wanted to tell her this. Too late; she had to hear the rest of the story.

"It was quite the dilemma. I could not leave Papyrus on his own, nor could I stay here to raise him, or take him with me. He was too young, and I did not know what might happen if I brought him into another place with another Papyrus. But there was no Sans here to care for him. So..." He closed his eyes, pulling the slashes taut. "I made another well-intentioned mistake."

There was a very long pause. "There are certain variations of time and place that I have seen more frequently than others," he said slowly. "The most tragic is where a very sorrowful and angry SOUL becomes warped into a force of absolute destruction, essentially a demon, and it finds a vessel to connect it to the physical world." His eyes opened. "It kills everything, Frisk. Every monster in the Underground, every human above, until there is nothing left. But the force itself does not die. It finds another place to destroy. And another. And another. The child you have seen in your nightmares is here because it cannot bear the fact that in one place, at one time, there was one monster it failed to exterminate. It has come here looking for him."

All the hairs on Frisk's body were standing straight up. "What exactly happened?"

"I found a place where a Sans stood ready to meet the child on its way to murder Asgore and leave the Underground. He had made a promise not to harm any fallen humans, and that promise bound him until it was too late. As always, he was still going to fight it, knowing that it was futile." Gaster looked at his hands, studying the holes in the palms. "I did not speak to him, or even let him see me. I approached him from behind, rendered him unconscious, and transported him here. I had checked Snowdin and saw that the house in which they usually reside was empty, so I brought them both there, left a supply of food and money, and allowed them to live as usual."

"...But...but doesn't he—"

"This world's practice of memory excision is not a good one, in my opinion, but it gave me the idea to try to...adjust him. I did not remove his memories to save for later if he chose to revisit them: I destroyed them entirely. As far as he or anyone else knows, he has always lived here with his little brother." Gaster looked back up at her. "I wanted to give him a second chance in a place where the demon did not exist, and where circumstances were not likely to replicate its creation. I knew that he might have nightmares as echoes of his past experiences, or even glimpses of other lives, but I had no conception that the child itself would stalk him all the way here."

The barrier wavered. Gaster did not move as Frisk shook herself and hummed it back to full strength. She'd have to process all of this information properly later. For now, next question... "Why did you become the royal sorcerer? Didn't you want to leave as soon as you knew they'd be safe?"

"I did, but I came back periodically to check on them. All seemed well until one visit where I discovered that a group of humans had just visited on a diplomatic mission that ended in violent catastrophe. Imagine my surprise when I examined Dr. Alphys' records and discovered that the Sans I rescued had become a boss monster through imperfectly understood means. It was one of the most anomalous variations in his growth that I have ever observed, and it absolutely fascinated me."

His tone was a little too rapturous for her tastes. "You disguised yourself as a human and became the royal sorcerer to keep a closer eye on Sans?" she asked warily.

"Oh, no, my dear young lady. I did so in order to keep a closer eye on you." Frisk started as the skeleton slowly got to his feet. "In order to affect physical matter, even something as tenuous as a monster's body, the demon must find a host. In the course of observing Sans and his brother, I became convinced that the child was trying to reach him, but it could not attach itself to any of the monsters. Through various means, I eventually tracked it to you, just as you were being considered as a replacement for the murdered High Priestess. Not only did I feel the need to protect Sans from a danger he no longer recalled, I became curious about you."

"In what way?" Frisk couldn't help rubbing her eyes. "Why did it choose me?"

Gaster smiled thinly. "At the risk of threatening you or, even worse, stating the obvious," he said in a different tone, "I would guess that a barrier of this strength and complexity requires a great deal of power, and you are not going to be able to maintain it much longer. I will only be at your mercy for another few minutes at most, after which I could make a serious attempt to break out and potentially injure one or both of us." He took a step forward. "I propose instead that I tell you more about Sans while you still know I am being truthful, and then you release me."

He was right. "If I release you, will you attack me or take any other malicious action against me, now or in the future?" Frisk asked carefully.

"I do not intend you or Sans any type of harm whatsoever, Frisk, now or in the future. I bear you no malice, though I admittedly find being caught in this fashion very irksome."

Frisk would have to be content with that. "Done. What do you want to tell me?"

"That you did not give Sans the opportunity to apologize for his conduct at the festival or the morning after, and you said something fairly cruel before he left. I thought I made it clear that he is not stable and you must be careful how you handle him."

It took a second to recall how she'd told Sans to take his time, and his expression after she did. "I'm not his mother," she argued. "I'm sorry I hurt his feelings, and I'll apologize when he gets back, but even you said I shouldn't be held responsible for his behavior. He's been fairly good at keeping his temper, all things considered."

"He's been good at keeping his temper around you," Gaster said severely. "Did you know that monsters can see the condition of a living monster or human SOUL? I have been monitoring Sans for a long time, as you now know, and soon after he became a boss monster, his SOUL began to darken at a remarkable rate. It was natural for him to accrue EXP as he fought humans to protect his kin, but it is extremely unusual for a single monster to develop such a taste for violence when the rest of the Underground remains unaffected."

Frisk didn't know what EXP was, but she could guess, and time was running short. "What are you saying, Doctor?" she snapped.

"I am saying that I do not know exactly why he is the way he is, and I don't only mean his metamorphosis into a boss monster. No matter what kind of magic he was subjected to, and however his LV grows, it cannot explain why Sans is so very angry. It's so ingrained that it feels deliberate, which I don't understand. Is it vestigial regret from his first life? A heretofore unknown side effect of the accident that spurred his transformation? All I know is that when he was listening to your song yesterday morning, I saw him let go of his accumulated rage for the very first time. When I took another look, it seemed as though several layers of that filth have been sloughed off his SOUL since he came here, though far more remains."

The priestess flushed. It was flattering to think she could affect him that much, but...

Gaster must have seen her skepticism. He sighed so mightily that his entire body settled to the floor, as if he simply couldn't keep himself upright. "You can't seriously—you can." He drew himself back up to his full height. "You may still be hurt by having been previously abandoned by those you cared for, young lady, but what do you need to hear before you understand the current situation? That Sans is deeply in love with you? That he behaved so stupidly at the fortune-teller because he was beside himself with jealousy? That any apprehensions you may have about him deciding not to come back here are laughable at best, and you are the only one who can make him want to return to a happier state of mind and avert the possibility of him hurting innocent people?"

Frisk had specifically been taught not to do what she did next: spring to her feet and bring her fist straight down on the barrier, shattering it like paper-thin glass. "However you got in here without alerting the guards, or waking them," she added darkly, "please see yourself out the same way. Good night, Dr. Gaster!"

In the sudden blackness, his eyes showed as two tiny pinpricks, one yellow and one blue. Frisk made herself meet his terrible gaze and point at the door, and he chuckled appreciatively. "Good night, High Priestess," he murmured. There was a rush of shadow, then an empty room.

The priestess could barely move or think. She felt her knees bend and her hand grope around the space where Gaster had been tunneling into the safe. She removed the barrier, picked up the box, put the barrier back up, got to her feet. Back to the bedroom, another barrier up on the door, and a collapse into bed, pulling the blankets around her. Too tired and too troubled to remember where she had left off...what would she see the next time she dreamed?

More importantly, where was Sans?

She was walking over an expanse of sand and scrubby trees that she had never seen before but somehow knew was the no-man's-land, closer to the Underground than to human territory. Her head turned at the sound of men screaming, far off to her left. In the fading light, she saw flickers of magic, a bigger flash, and a sound more awful than screams: silence.

Not total silence. As she approached, Frisk heard a familiar chuckle, but not in a familiar way. This was not a skeleton pleased with his own stupid puns or laughing at her rage when he beat her at chess five times in a row. This was someone standing amidst a pile of broken human corpses, surveying his handiwork and enjoying it.

For a terrified moment, Frisk thought Sans was doing this in the present, or had just done it, and she wanted to scream at him—but no, he was wearing the ragged canvas garments she'd first seen him in, not the wool and linen ones she had given him. If this had ever happened – which felt likely – then he was dreaming of a time more distant than the past twenty-four hours.

She was only about fifty yards away, but he didn't seem to notice her. She tried to call out to him, only for her voice to get stuck as she looked again at the human bodies he was stepping over like rocks in his path. Gaster had been right. Sans really was capable of this, wasn't he? He wasn't the gentle, protective, sometimes-somewhat-sweet-natured skeleton she'd grown fond of. He was a killer.

No. He was gentle and sometimes somewhat sweet, and he was a killer. Frisk couldn't fall into the trap of believing that only one side of him existed, or that only one was "real"; people didn't work that way. She had to talk to the one she knew—he was there, too!

Sans was trudging away. Remembering what Gaster had said, Frisk took a big breath and whistled at him over the empty expanse, using a few bars from this morning's song—she'd often seen him stop what he was doing to listen to it.

Sure enough, he paused. He turned, and his orange eyes focused on her. The flames dimmed just a little. "Frisk?" Sans came closer, skirting the pile of bodies. "'sat really you?"

The priestess held out her hands. Sans reached out to touch her fingers, then recoiled—his hand was spattered with blood. "What are you doin' here?" he asked, voice rougher than usual. "Ya don't wanna see this!"

"No, I don't. But I wanted to see you," she said.

Sans blinked at her. He jerked his head for her to follow him, moving until the grim scene was out of her line of sight. Then he sat down, plunging his hands into the sand to scrub the blood off. "Yer an idiot. Why'd you come after me? I thought ya wanted me t'take my time gettin' back."

Frisk winced. She really had hurt his feelings. "I'm so sorry I said that. I missed you today."

The boss monster swallowed hard. "Fine. Ya saw me." He shook sand off his metacarpals, aiming it away from her. "Look, 'm sorry, too. I embarrassed the crap outta ya at the stupid festival, and I..." He shrugged elaborately. "I dunno what the hell I was doin' yesterday mornin', but whatever happened, I'm sorry."

"It's all right, Sans." Frisk folded her hands behind her back. "Did Snowdrake arrive safely?"

"Yeah. I only saw one nosy neighbor lady at the house, an' I played nice 'n let 'er see the note. She left us alone after that. Didn't see anyone else till we got close enough to the Underground t'let 'im go. Poor little bastard kept thinkin' it was some kinda trick." The skeleton brushed more sand off his femur. "I ran inta some poachers on my way back t'the city, but they didn' have any monsters with 'em, an' they just told me to get lost, so I did."

Frisk smiled. "Thank you. That means a lot to me."

Sans made his usual noises, which just made her smile wider. "How was yer first day off from babysittin' me?" he asked crossly. "Good?"

"It sucked," she said, deadpan, and he snorted. "Seriously, Sans, it was awful. Everyone's heard of my fortunes already, and my father, who has had at least fifteen children that we're aware of, gave me a talking-to about my sexual mores."

The skeleton's eyes were fully alight. "Yer kiddin'. Ya haven't even done anythin'!"

There was the tiniest pause, and lest he add "...Right?" and force her to kill him, Frisk said, "Right. It just reminded me that if I open the box and end up having a child on my own, I'll be an unwed mother. Among humans, that makes you a complete outcast. I wish we were more like monsters, I really do."

Sans was very quiet, in a way that put Frisk on edge. "But, of course," she said with forced optimism, "if I don't open it, I'll get married and be completely boring and respectable for another fifty or sixty years, and just have to live with the fact that I chose not to let monsters go free." Her throat was closing up yet again, and she shook her head. "Why do I have to decide this, Sans? I'm used to being under pressure, but not like this! What am I supposed to do?!"

The boss monster edged closer as she sniffled. "Ya know what you should do?" he asked.

"What?!" It came out nearly as a shriek. "What should I do, Sans? Tell me!"

Sans remained sitting, watching her quietly as she scrubbed her face on her sleeve. "I think you should make a decision an' go for it insteada tormentin' yerself like this. Whatever ya wanna do, it'll turn out t'be the right thing. An' fer what it's worth..." He fidgeted, scowling at the ground. "Whether ya pick the bird guy or...someone else, if ya ever need help, I'll do whatever I can. Heavy lifting, beatin' people up, dumb jokes, whatever. So...quit whinin' and pick somethin'. Flip a coin if ya need to. Just stop hurtin' yerself. Okay?"

Frisk's heart stood still. She looked at him in such a way that he sat back warily. "What? What'd I say?"

"Don't say anything," she said, advancing on him. "And don't get up yet."

"Hey, hey, lady, this's a dream, remember? Ya can't touch m—"

Sans lapsed into stunned silence as Frisk's arms went around his neck and her cheek rested on his clavicle. She leaned her full weight on him and heaved a sigh. "I'm sorry to ambush you again," she said into the space between his ribs. "I just needed to see something." It was the same as before, a wonderfully tingly feeling in her chest that spread through her body until she wondered what'd happen if she moved away too fast. Frisk sighed again, trying to work up the willpower to let go. Somehow, he wasn't as uncomfortable as she would've thought, as if there was a very thin layer of something padding his bony exterior. It just made it harder to—

Sans' arms came up to hold her against him, as he had the previous morning, and neither of them cared that they were so big, they overlapped over her back. His cheekbone rested against her head, careful not to be too heavy. "Whaddya do with yer hair?" he muttered.

It was...not what she'd expected him to say. "Can you elaborate, please?" she muttered back.

"I dunno what smells are what. I think the longer I stay human, the more human-ish stuff I can do, like smell, 'n feel stuff I touch." His phalanges moved softly through her hair. "This doesn't make any sense. Yer not s'posed to be able t'interact with anyone in a dream 'less ya went ta sleep in the same room or somethin'."

"I don't know about you, Sans, but I'm sick of thinking." Frisk stared at a spot of drying blood on the ground behind him. "In fact, you're right. I'm done thinking about this." She squeezed him gently, though she knew she could use all her strength and he'd barely feel it. "Let me go, please. It's time for me to get some real sleep."

"...Nuh-uh."

Frisk laughed. "It's vanilla," she said over his shoulder.

"Hm?" Sans was absently petting her hair again. "Wha's vanilla?"

It was so nice that she wanted to fall asleep right there, somehow. When was the last time she'd felt this secure? "It's...my hair. I don't use a lot of expensive lotions, but I'll splurge on anything scented with vanilla. Do you like it?"

"Mm. 'snot as bad as most of the stuff I've smelled so far."

The priestess smiled, then reached up to touch his skull. He tensed as her fingertips encountered the wide, smooth expanse of bone. It was warmer than she'd expected, almost velvety—probably from magic, she figured. "I'm very tired, Sans, and I've used almost all of my magic already. Can you please let me go now?"

He wouldn't. The last shred of doubt in her mind disappeared, and in a surge of determination, Frisk ducked free of his arms, moving out of his reach. "I'll see you soon," she told him. "Tomorrow?"

"Uh." Sans had the oddest look on his face. It reminded her of when she'd cleaned the fork for him at their first face-to-face meeting in the bedroom. "I dunno. I might be drunk again when I wake up. It kinda feels like it."

Frisk gave a long, theatric sigh. "If you are, please sleep it off before you come back. We've gotten in the supplies I ordered, and I don't need you eating the plants or something ridiculous." She stepped back further. "Good night, Sans."

"Night," he said inaudibly, and she left.

The guards outside Frisk's doors admitted Dr. Serif after breakfast, then settled in to wait for the royal sorcerer to leave, after which they could properly nap. His morning visits were usually an hour or so, in their experience.

This time, after only five or so minutes, the doors banged open, and one guard dropped his halberd. "I wish to be very clear, Doctor," the High Priestess said, voice pitched to carry down the hall. "Do not open it, do not attempt or allow anyone to attempt to open it, and do not keep it for any reason. I want it destroyed. Will you please do so as soon as possible?"

"Of course,Your Eminence." To the guards' astonishment, the normally imperturbable doctor was frowning, and took the little rosewood box with obvious reluctance. "Good day to you."

The priestess shut the doors without another word. The guards stared at Dr. Serif, who was now scowling full-force at the box. With a glance at the doors and none at all at the two men, the doctor tried to pry the lid open, only to drop it as the box sizzled at him. "How did she put a barrier inside it?" he said to no one.

The guards could barely wait till he was gone to whisper to each other, "She threw it away! I knew she wouldn't—" "Oh, bull shit, you said she'd get knocked up by this time next w—" "No I didn't! I—"

Slam went the doors. Frisk glared at one, then the other, and waited the count of five before she slowly pulled them shut.

#songfell whoo lemme at the next one

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return-of-a-space-cowboy · 4 years

Text

I want to write this as a full story, this is based off of a weird dream I had

Lascia che ti porti in paradiso

You drove you car down the highway and couldn't help but wriggle around try not to reenact the dance from Napoleon dynamite as Canned heat played on the radio. You couldn't help but feel like the world was rooting for you, you had woken up two days ago to find out that you had been written down to be the soul inherentor of a stranger's fortune and estate.

At first you were reluctant on the offer, thinking there must have been some mistake or a scam but no it wasn't and it turned out the stranger had no living relatives and had picked out your name out of the thousands of others in the state rather then let the government take it.

You were now on your way to your new home with the few things you had from your apartment all packed in the back.

You had sold most of your furniture since your new mansion already had a ton.

You hummed as you tapped your hands on the steering wheel before seeing a man run out Infront of your car. You slammed your foot on the brake and closed your eyes, hoping you wouldn't hit him. Your car made a screeching halt and you opened you eyes and saw that the man had fazed through the front of your car. You were face to face with the ghost.

"Danm it you nearly made me a ghost myself! don't you know some of us living can see you!" You scolded.

"Sorry..." He replied.

"Trying to kill yourself isn't going to do anything... You need to fulfill your life task if you wanna move on" you explained to him before someone knocked on you window.

"Yes?" You asked the man outside as you winded down the window slightly.

"Why the fuck did you slam on the fucking brake! Nobody's in fucking front of you!" The man yelled as he hurled profanity after profanity at you.

"I'm sorry, I just had a bit of a panic attack..." You explained to the male before driving off again.

You had become accustom to the existence of ghosts, you had been able to see them for most of your life. You had especially grown use to it while living in that dodgy apartment since a lot of drug use and domestic abuse happened around that area. You could have become a psychic medium but really couldn't see yourself being one so you lived a life like everyone else.

You made a turn off the highway and drove through a few streets before stopping at a service station to refuel your car. In the store you paid the woman at the counter that had disinterest written all over her face before your phone ran. You quickly grabbed it out of your pocket as you made your way back to the car.

"Hello?" You answered to the phone.

"Oh hello miss (Y/n), I was wondering how long you'd be to the house?" The inheritance lawyer asked.

"Well I just got off of the highway, I'll probably be there in another hour..." You responded.

"Ok that's perfect, that'll give me time to drop my kids off at my mother's" he explained.

"Ok, I'll meet you at the house soon" you said.

"Bye"

You put your phone back in your pocket before opening your car door and grabbing out the mapbook and finding the right page.

"Ok so I'm on Charlotte Street now... so I'll have to go straight through Devondale then turn off at Rochester road then Tamala way til I reach Willow peaks" you said to yourself as you looked through the map before starting up the engine again.

🍁🍁🍁

You stopped your car at a pair of large gates that stood proudly Infront of your property. You hopped out the car and approached the gate and unlocked the the padlock that sealed it shut before hopping back in and driving up the long winding driveway where tall trees blocked out most of the sunlight til you reached a clearing. The three to four story mansion shadow loomed over the land where a beautiful garden grew with an abundance of colourful flowers. Roses, carnations, snapdragons, dianthus, gardenias, if you could name a flower it was most likely there. You parked you car outside the garage. You stepped out and the fragrance of the garden hit your nose like a surprisingly pleasant punch to the face. You admired the garden even more as you walked past the flowerbeds and inspected the flowers more closely. They were so well kept, surely the previous owner had hired gardeners to maintain it after they passed.

You walked around the back to see various fruit trees in bloom. Cherries, peaches, plums, apples, lemons and oranges. In the middle a old water fountain stood. As you approach you could make out the statute, a young man with long in robes and chains holding up a flower with it's roots intact. You stood on the edge of the fountain and looked at features of the worn statue that was made of a mixture gold and bronze or copper.

The man had long wavy hair with a curled fringe, plump lips, a young but well built body and eyes that seemed to see all despite being a statue. You then took note on all the lime and calcium that had built up on it as well as how full the metal was maybe you would go and grab some stuff tomorrow and give it a well needed clean.

"The estate is very impressive, isn't it?" A familiar voice asked.

You turned and saw the inheritance lawyer who was a few metres behind you.

"It's amazing, if the outside is this this good then I can only imagine how the inside must be" you replied.

"How can somebody keep a garden so perfect?" You asked.

"The previous owner told me that she hadn't worked on the garden for five years yet it had never overgrown" he explained.

"Did she know anything about this statute?" You asked, so curious to find how such beauty had been immortalized.

"No she didn't, it's been here since this place was first constucted in 1797" he explained.

"1797?!" You gasped.

"Yes, but of course it's had it's fair share of renovations, some to preserve it and others to extend it" he explained to you but your attention was soon diverted to one of the windowsills as a curtain was pulled aside and somebody peered through only to close it again.

"I'm excuse me but is anybody in the house already?" You asked as you looked back to the man.

"No there should be anyone else here, why do you ask?"

"I was just curious, that's all" you replied.

"You must be eager to see the inside" he chuckled as you both returned to the front and approached the front door. He grabbed out the keys to the house before unlocking the door and opening it.

You both walked in to see the massive entranceway. A high celling with a crystal chandelier hanging down, two sets of stairs on either side of the room, dark wallpaper and lavish rugs, painting decorating the walls. It was like what you'd see in the movies.

"This is amazing!" You gasped.

"Yep and you haven't even seen the 28 rooms" he said but before you could respond you saw somebody in plain sight run across the upstairs balcony.

"Did you just see that?" You asked as you pointed to where you saw them.

"No, I didn't see anything, are you sure your mind isn't playing tricks on you?"

"It's probably just me" you sighed before he lead you off to see all the rooms on the ground floor.

The kitchen was huge and so was the dinning room and entertaining area. You had your own laundry room, a study, two bathrooms and an atrium which led to the garden. You even had a basement / cellar. Then he brought you up to the second and third story where ten large bedrooms were placed, two of them being connected to large bathrooms with a nice black and gold colour scheme that screamed opulence. There were four more bathrooms for guests and then another study / entertaining area before you reached the attic which was the only place that wasn't clean. It was filled to the brim with boxes and spare furniture covered in cobwebs and dust. You had a quick look through all the furniture.

"I'll go down the the dinning room and get the paperwork ready for you to sign while you have a look around" he said as he left.

You took a step and accidentally tripped over a sheet, a framed portrait falling onto you in the process. You got into a sitting position and picked up the painting. It was of the same man depicted in the statue. His skin was fair, one of his eyes was a blueish green while the other was amberish, somewhere between brown and hazel. His long locks were a golden blonde, his arms were loosely wrapped around the neck of a young doe while a snake was loosely draped around his neck. The man's features seemed peaceful but he also seemed to radiate an aura of superiority.

The male must of had something to do with this household. The question thou was how?

#yandere x reader #yandere #jojo golden wind #jojos bizarre adventure #yandere giorno giovanna #yandere giorno #giorno x reader #giorno #jojo giorno #spacy works

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stylesnews · 4 years

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The fitting climax of Harry Styles’ album-launch bash on Friday night: the moment Stevie Nicks came out to join him for a surprise duet on “Landslide.” “For me, it wouldn’t be an album release without this young lady,” he told a rapt L.A. Forum crowd who’d already heard him debut the fantastic new Fine Line in its entirety. “I have a feeling you’re going to enjoy this as much as me. Please welcome to the stage, Stevie Nicks.” Never one to make a shy entrance, the Gold Dust Woman sashayed regally to the microphone on bootheels half Harry’s heigh, while he raved, “I know—cool, isn’t it?” Their duet was enough to bring down anybody’s mountains, as they held hands and slow-danced. He gazed deep into her eyes to sing the key line, “Can the child in my heart rise above?” The sold-out arena crowd of 18,000 swooned as these two hit their hair-raising harmonies on the final “snoooooow covered hills.”

Harry and Stevie have a long, touching history as everybody’s favorite rock-star friendship. One of the key moments that anointed him as a solo star after the end of One Direction was his 2017 show at Stevie’s old stomping grounds, L.A.’s famous Troubadour, where she joined him to sing “Landslide,’ “The Chain” and “Leather and Lace.” They did “Stop Draggin’ My Heart Around” last spring when he inducted her into the Rock & Roll Hall of Fame, with the iconic image of Harry dropping to his knees onstage to hand her the trophy. She called him her “love child” in Rolling Stone. (Mick Fleetwood was in the house tonight, so it was a family affair.) She dedicated “Landslide” to him at London’s Wembley Stadium with Fleetwood Mac in June, fondly calling him “my little muse.” But this duet felt special, celebrating their mutual admiration as well as his new Fine Line: the queen welcoming this prince into the pantheon.

Harry’s show was a triumph all the way through, as he leveled a rapturously screamadelic crowd in arena-slaying glam-rock monster mode. Honestly, Having Sex wiped the floor with Feeling Sad, and it wasn’t even close. “Fine Line Live: One Night Only” was a stand-alone gig, four months before he begins his 2020 world tour. He made the night more than a showcase for the new songs; he made it a celebration of this communal pop tribe he has somehow gathered over the years, reveling in his role as a madman master of benevolent mischief. He peacocked in his finery from the album cover, in a salmon-pink shirt, a pearl necklace and high-waisted white sailor pants. Fans had been camping out all week in the Forum’s parking lot, and nobody showed up in a mood to get mellow. To the surprise of absolutely not one single person, the entire audience sang virtually every line of songs that none of them had heard 24 hours earlier. “I’m baaaack,” Harry announced. “I have more than ten songs now.”

He kicked off with “Golden,” playing guitar hero over the surging Seventies-style Malibu harmonies. (His entrance theme was a spoken-word soundbite from the writer Charlies Bukowski: “To do a dangerous thing with style is what I call art.”) For the first hour, he did all the new tunes, without a dud in the bunch: “Sunflower, Vol. 6,” which seemed like the closest thing to a weak link, turns out to be a gas live. In typical hyperactive starman mode, he twirled, waved, blew kisses, soared in the impossible vocal acrobatics of “Falling.” He seemed amused to note which moments got the biggest responses, especially after “To Be So Lonely,” with its hook, “I’m just an arrogant son of a bitch who can’t admit when he’s sorry.” “I have one question,” he said. “For what reason when I call myself an ‘arrogant son of a bitch,’ is that when you sing the loudest? Did you just decide to sing that one line with your whole chest?”

A surprise highlight came when he did the theatrical Pippin-smitten “Treat People With Kindness,” bringing out the pop duo Lucius to sing the chorus. The floor became a dance-off—in one corner, dozens of girls put all their bags and backpacks in one giant pile, so nobody had to worry where their stuff was, and then danced around the pile in a circle that was really moving to behold, an example of how a Harry Styles concert creates crucial moments of utopian unity and shared euphoria. At one point, he told the audience, “There’s nothing that makes me more hopeful than standing in front of you. Thank you for that. You absolutely changed my life.”

His ace band brought Fine Line’s wide range of emotions to life. “Canyon Moon” accelerated into a buckskin-fringe hippie hoedown that Crosby, Stills and Nash would have shaved their sideburns for. “Cherry” might be the album’s darkest and rawest moment, with its stark confession of jealousy. (“I confess I can tell that you are at your best / I’m selfish so I’m hating it” is really going all the way down.) But it’s also the prettiest, and tonight “Cherry” became a country-rock ballad with Sarah Jones’ drumrolls and plaintive pedal-steel flourishes from guitar wizard Mitch Rowland, who Harry playfully introduced at rehearsals as “Mr. Mysterious!” “Fine Line” ended on a grand note—the six-minute ballad has the introspective vibe of the final scene of Fleabag, as Phoebe Waller-Bridge takes that long slow lonesome walk home.

The night ended with a five-song victory lap, kicking off with “Sign of the Times,” the glam love-and-death piano ballad that began his solo career with a bang, and ending with the cataclysmic rocker “Kiwi,” which got a metallic new Iron Maiden-style intro. He did his slow dance with Stevie Nicks—finally, the rock & roll queen meets a real king who can handle. He busted out another surprise tribute to one of his classic-rock idols: Sir Paul McCartney. For some reason, “Wonderful Christmastime” sounds positively brilliant as a Harry song; a storm of tinsel confetti snow fell on the audience during what felt like several hundred repetitions of that “siiiim-ply haaaaa-ving” chant.

As he declared at the end, “The album is yours. I am yours. I couldn’t ask for a more incredible group of people to play my music for.” (The exit music: Van Morrison’s “Madame George.”) But there was an extra emotional edge to his version of One Direction’s 2011 debut hit, “What Makes You Beautiful,” revamped into a Stones-style rock groove. Harry’s now got more great songs than he can fit into a solo show. He doesn’t need any padding, any songs he doesn’t passionately want to sing. But it means something to him now to revisit “What Makes You Beautiful,” the hit that started him down the ten-year road to the glories of Fine Line.

As he told me this summer, it’s a toast to the shared history between him and his audience. As he told me this summer, “One of my favorite parts of the show always is playing ‘What Makes You Beautiful.’ Always. It’s not like, ‘I’m not playing *those* songs any more, because this is *me* now.’ I’m saying, ‘No, it’s *all* me.’ If there was any song where I should be saying, ‘I don’t know if I can fucking play that one again,’ that would be the one. So it means so much for me to do it and have us all sing it together. It gets more and more meaningful.” Like the rest of the show, this version of “What Makes You Beautiful” was a celebration of the unique bond between this performer and this audience—and a tribute to how far both have evolved over ten weird years.

#harry styles #dec19 #articles

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lilacmoon83 · 4 years

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Finding You Always

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 213: Worlds Collide, Pt 2

"So nice of you to finally join us," Agent Green said shortly.

"I'd say sorry to keep you waiting...but I'm not sorry," David retorted, as he pulled out a chair for his wife and then took his seat next to her.

"Wow Mom...that dress is hot," Emma commented. Snow smiled.

"Thanks sweetie...you look gorgeous too," Snow replied, admiring her daughter's curve hugging red dress.

"This is an FBI briefing...we don't have time for mother-daughter bonding hour," Agent Green interjected.

"Check your attitude, Agent Green," the Major warned to the seething agent.

"Fine...as you know, Mr. Clayton is expected at tonight's event next door for the debut of Ancient Wonders exhibit at the Museum of Natural History," she explained.

"This exhibit has some highly sought after artifacts, including Olmec terracotta statues, jade masks that are said to be of Mayan origin, and even an ancient Incan quipu, just newly discovered," she said, showing them a few slides.

"That's probably what they're after," Eva commented, which received attention from the entire table.

"How do you know that?" Agent Dorsey asked, narrowing his gaze.

"I mean, the Major mentioned that Natalie Zearing and her mother have been looking for Cibola or El Dorado for years. I did a little reading and an ancient newly discovered quipu might be a clue to its location," she said.

"You're the one that can read minds, right?" he asked suspiciously.

"I explained to Agent Green earlier that I don't read minds. I just read people really well and I help Belle with the research when it's needed usually," Eva replied sternly.

"She's right...is there anything else you'd like to know about the items in question and which ones we're certain they're after? Because we've already done the research while we were waiting," Belle chimed in. David smirked.

"Still think my family members need badges to do this work?" he asked smugly.

"Whatever...and yes, we think she's after the quipu for sure," Dorsey snapped.

"And one good thing about the lot of you being here is that you'll be a huge distraction and they may let their guard down," he added.

"Except that he won't," Xander interjected.

"He's right...if Junior is some kind of heir apparent to Clayton's legacy, then he knows everything about his history and us. He probably holds Snow and I personally responsible for his father's death too," David agreed.

"If he's as arrogant as his father, he'll take over the entire place in some grand display once he sees us," Snow said.

"Why would he do that? Why would he blow years of cover? And how does he expect to do something like that in a room full of cops, FBI agents, and apparently freaking magic?" Agent Green questioned.

"I don't know...but the last time we underestimated his father, we spent a year of our lives in captivity," David said.

"He's right...in my time working for Clayton, he always eluded to the fact that he had sired an heir and he was being raised to take over. I assumed he meant Cecily, but I think I was wrong about that. Clayton would favor a male heir," Xander replied.

"Chauvinist till the end," Emma commented.

"We need to be ready for anything. We may have magic, but Clayton always had ways around that, either with his own stolen magic or technology," Snow reminded them. David nodded.

"She's right...we need all your agents to be alert and ready to clear civilians from the event if things get out of hand," he said.

"This isn't what our Intel is telling us," Dorsey interjected.

"These two always come to these events and then disappear with valuable artifacts to hold their own black market auctions. Why should we think tonight is any different than the last event?" he asked.

"Because we're here now and Junior is probably chomping at the bit for revenge. Plus, he'd love to somehow capture us and force his way into the United Realms. Most of his father's collection is there in our museum," David answered.

"I don't like any of this...it's not what we've planned for," Agent Green lamented.

"If you're applying all your FBI training to this situation, dearie, then you'll be woefully unprepared," Rumple interjected.

"Because nothing can prepare you for dealing with someone of John Clayton's bloodline. He managed to get even me to underestimate him...which means he was careful over his considerable years to avoid any previous Dark Ones," he added.

"Then it's settled. David...you and your people have the lead on this. The rest of us are providing back up," the Major said.

"Whether you like it or not," she added, as the meeting concluded and they prepared to venture to the museum next door for the big event.

~*~

Johnny sighed, as his men roughed up the poor, unfortunate man that he currently had a dispute with.

"This is grotesque. Can you just end this already," Natalie complained, as he finished his drink.

"You never did have the stomach for this part of the business," he teased, as he approached and his men sat the bound man back in his chair.

"Oh Sykes...you were so loyal to my father for years. It is truly a shame that you betrayed my family so thoroughly," Johnny said.

"I didn't want to! But that woman...she killed Cecily right in front of me! I had no choice!" Billy Sykes pleaded.

"Oh, you had a choice...she would have never gained full use of my father's entire operation without your help," Johnny responded.

"She was going to kill me!" he insisted.

"No...you had all the answers. So she persuaded you instead. I know...that penthouse apartment you're living in is a nice step up from the hole in the wall you found yourself in when you were working for my sister," he said.

"Your father took care of me...but she treated me like trash!" Sykes hissed.

"Yes...and in revenge, you gave away the keys to my father's Kingdom!" he roared.

"And to the damned government!" he growled in rage.

"I...I can help get it all back! I know everything about her operation!" he claimed.

"No need...your services are no longer needed, Mr. Sykes," he said, as the fear on the other man's face was evident.

"String him up," Johnny ordered, as Billy began to plead for his life. But those pleas fell on deaf ears and Natalie groaned, before turning away.

"Why can't you just shoot him and make it quick," she complained.

"Traitors don't get a quick end, my love," he admonished, as the doors to the warehouse swung open, catching them by surprise. They had concealed this large warehouse, which was their headquarters in Boston, with his father's cloaking technology. If someone had breached it, then they definitely were in possession of magic. Johnny pulled his gun.

"Step no further, whoever you are. This gun does not shoot bullets, but rather a magic nullifying shock wave," he warned. The man put his hands up and smirked.

"Easy there, Mr. Clayton. I mean you no harm...in fact, I am here to offer my services," he said. Johnny looked at him skeptically.

"I know you...you're Fagin, the notorious loan shark and gang leader," Johnny said. The man chuckled.

"Correct...until two days ago, I was Fagin, the notorious loan shark and gang leader. I was once just a lowly pickpocket, until I climbed my way to the top of the crime food chain," he said, as he helped himself to a drink, completely un-bothered by the hanging dead man in the room.

"Boss...you want us to toss this guy?" one of his men asked.

"Not yet," Johnny said, intrigued by this man.

"So...until two days ago, you were Fagin. To whom and I speaking to now?" he questioned curiously. The man smirked and his hand came alive with fire, as he lit a cigar that he magicked into his other hand.

"I have many names. The Devil, Lucifer, Satan...but I prefer Mephisto," he said.

"But Mephisto was killed during the battle by the Charmings...or so the story goes," Johnny said with an impressed tone.

"One such as me does not just die...I merely needed a new host once my old body was destroyed. I found one and while he's not as physically imposing as I would like, he is a powerful gang leader and loan shark, with a network of crime and resources at his fingertips," Fagin replied. Johnny smirked.

"And you want to help me?" Johnny asked skeptically.

"Think about it...with me helping, not only do you get your revenge on the Charmings, but you can easily take over the world...including the United Realms," he tempted

"And all I have to do is sell my soul to you, right?" he asked. Mephisto smirked.

"Normally yes...but I'll settle for your men for now. I know you have enough of your father's tricks up your sleeve that you don't need my power," he replied. Johnny shrugged.

"Have at them," Johnny said, offering his subordinate's lives to the creature, much to Natalie's horror. Once their transformation was complete, Mephisto smirked.

"Now...it's time discuss this evening's events," he said.

~*~

James and Aphrodite appeared in the middle of town square, in Underbrooke, with Hermes.

"You have exactly seventy-two hours, no more, and then I have to retrieve you whether you have your answers or not," Hermes warned.

"I'm getting the feeling that you think this is a bad idea," Aphrodite mentioned and the other Goddess sighed.

"You're my friend and to someone that travels as much as me...I don't have many others," Hermes said.

"You think that whatever is being hidden from me is going to hurt me," she surmised.

"Yes...and I don't want that," Hermes admonished.

"I know and I love you for that. But I have to know, especially if James might be in danger just by being with me," she lamented.

"You are everything to me...I will be with you, no matter what," he promised.

"I know...but I need to know why I have so many holes in my memories," she insisted. Hermes nodded.

"Just be prepared. What you find out...you may not like," she warned, as she disappeared. Aphrodite looked at her husband, as he looked around.

"Are you sure you're okay? Coming back here has to be hard," she mentioned. He gave her a tiny smile and kissed her hair.

"It's weird, but I'm here for you and it's not like I'm staying this time," he replied.

"Well, well...aren't you a sight for sore eyes, dahling," a voice cooed and he rolled his eyes, as they turned to find Cruella De Vil there, still wearing one of her favorite fur coats.

"I guess I should have expected you'd still be here, since moving on from here would mean going to a not so great place," James retorted.

"Oh, don't tell me you've gone soft. You were so much fun when you were bad, like me," Cruella said, as she noticed the woman on his arm and laughed.

"She looks familiar, expect the hair," she teased.

"She's my wife...Aphrodite," James snapped.

"You really did go the hero path. You must be the one that gave the Charmings their pretty little cup," Cruella replied.

"I am and we have no time for you," Aphrodite said.

"Owe!" James exclaimed, as she pinched him.

"Oh...you are alive. How interesting," she mentioned. Aphrodite summoned a glowing orange ball of magic in her palm.

"Touch him again and I'll personally ask Nyx to administer final judgement to you, unfinished business or not," she threatened. Cruella smirked.

"No need to get your pretty panties in a twist, blondie. I liked him better when he was a bad boy anyway, though I'll always be here dahling if you ever tire of Ms. goody good here," she said, as she walked off.

"Well…I guess the diner is a good place to start," she mentioned.

"Hang on," he replied, as he pulled her back and into his arms, before kissing her passionately.

"You're the only woman I've been with that I truly love," he promised. She smiled shyly.

"I know," she said, taking comfort in that. She leaned her head against his arm, as they made their way to the diner and entered. They looked around and James locked eyes with George, as he sat in a booth. George looked shocked to him and the Goddess as they approached. To his credit, he didn't run and knew it was time to pay his penance.

~*~

"This is insane...we're just people," Leo complained, as they pushed through the horde of reporters and camera people at the entrance to the museum.

"Not to them. It's only been a few days since the world was introduced to your family. They aren't going away anytime soon, especially since your family that is getting their dying newspapers and dwindling social media numbers a flood of new life. Which means stories about your family are making them millions every minute," the Major said.

"And I hate everything in that sentence," Emma quipped. Patricia smiled.

"I know, but just think about the criminals you'll soon be helping to take down. Clayton's network runs deep and dismantling it will be no easy task. But a lot of bad people will end up in jail as a result," she replied.

"Let's hope so, because that's the only way any of this is worth the effort," Regina said, as they made it into the museum.

"Agent Donovan...I'm Lyle Moore, the museum curator," a man said, as he introduced himself.

"Mr. Moore...I have agents posted throughout the museum. With any luck, things will go smoothly tonight," Patricia said.

"I do not like my museum being used for some operation and if any of these priceless artifacts are damaged, I will hold you personally responsible," he replied.

"Mr. Moore...without our presence here, these priceless artifacts will most certainly be stolen. We're here to prevent that," she assured.

"Besides, the museum hasn't had press like this in years and you can thank them for that," she said, referring to Snow and David. He still didn't look happy and stalked away.

"We just make friends everywhere we go," Snow said sarcastically, making him chuckle, as he kissed her hair.

"I'm guessing those are the big finds on display," he said, referring to the items in the center of the atrium.

"Yes...the Olmec terracotta statues. They predate even the Mayan, Incan, and Aztec cultures," Patricia explained.

"A jade mask, which are rare, but have been found before. However, this one is completely in tact and nearly completely untouched. It's worth millions on its own," she continued.

"And finally a previously undiscovered quipu," she said.

"The knots and strings are a language, right?" Snow asked.

"Yes, an ancient Incan language that only a handful of people in the world can still translate," Patricia replied.

"Do they have a usual go to? Surely they've had them translated before," David said. She nodded.

"Yes, but the professor that they have paid in the past died recently. They'll be in the market for someone new. I have the names out already to agents in the field to monitor any activity with those individuals," Patricia said.

"Wait...didn't Eva take an ancient languages course with Rose a few years ago?" David asked.

"She did...but I don't know if it covered quipus, honey," Snow replied.

"It did cover them, but it's really difficult to learn. I only know the basics," Eva said, as they looked at her in surprise.

"You can read quipus?" the Major asked.

"Not entirely. I only learned the basics of the language. One with that many knots is wildly complicated," Eva replied.

"Still…I'd rather people not know that, especially the wrong people," David said protectively. She smiled.

"Don't worry Daddy…I'll be fine," Eva assured him, as the curator brought the room to attention and began his speech.

"Charming...that's him," Snow whispered, as she spotted him across the room, in a tux, with a blonde woman on his arm. The same woman that the Major had named as Natalie Zearing, the daughter of an apparent investor. He didn't turn around all the way, but instead pulled her close and looked at him out of the corner of his eye.

"Do you think they see us?" Snow whispered.

"Oh I'm sure of it," David replied.

~*~

"You were right…" Natalie said, as she sipped at her champagne. He scoffed.

"Of course I was...my father was obsessed with them. He bred me to know everything about them," Johnny replied. She smirked.

"And they know you...clearly. The fairest one of them all is trying to act like she's not looking over here," she joked. He smirked.

"I recognize that other man too...I think," she mentioned.

"Oh yes...Xander, my father's right hand, until he betrayed him," Johnny replied.

"I think my mother knew him too," she mentioned. He smirked.

"Oh, your mother knew him quite well," he confirmed. She looked at him.

"Funny...she never mentioned him to me at all," she said, but he said nothing to that.

"So...what's the plan?" she asked. He smirked.

"I am going to introduce myself," Johnny said.

~*~

"James...you're here…" he uttered and the younger man noted the sadness in his voice.

"Don't worry...we're both alive," he replied and though he was very good at hiding his emotions, the relief at that was apparent, as a bit of the tension in his shoulders disappeared.

"But you aren't anymore and imagine our surprise when an autopsy was done and it was discovered that in your last moments, you had all your faculties," James said.

"Yes...and imagine my surprise when I learned you were alive. I thought I'd have a chance to...see you again. That died when I was murdered or so I thought," George replied. But he shook his head.

"I'm not here for you. I'm here, because we know that Blue killed you. I want to know why and I want to know what it has to do with my wife's past," James demanded to know. The disgraced King looked at the blonde next to him and then back at his son.

"Not here...it's too busy," he said.

"Fine...then let's take a walk, but you're going to talk," James replied, as he took Aphrodite's hand.

"Don't worry...I'm more than ready to get this off my chest," he agreed, as they made their way out of the diner and began to walk toward the park. It was nothing like home, of course, as nothing could grow there. The red sky was also unsettling and she hated that her beloved had spent more than thirty years in this place.

"Okay...no one else is around so talk," James said.

"Who revived you? Was it you, Goddess?" George asked curiously.

"No…I do not have that power, but Zeus does. He granted Ruth a second chance to be with David and Robert. But she selflessly gave up that chance for James," Aphrodite answered.

"Is that what you were told?" George asked.

"Are you calling my mother a liar?" James asked sharply.

"No, of course not...but when Zeus is involved, there is always more to the story," George replied.

"In fact, when he died and came here, he would have most assuredly learned of what the Blue Fairy and I did. I'm surprised he has not appeared and thrown me into a fiery pit yet," he confessed.

"I doubt Zeus has any unfinished business...he would have moved on to Elysian," Aphrodite claimed. The King smirked.

"Oh no, my dear...he has plenty of unfinished business, just like I do. I'm ready to face it, despite the eternal hell awaiting me once I unburden my soul," he said. Smoke engulfed the three of them at that and they reappeared in Nyx' Throne room. The Goddess sat in her Throne, but said nothing, as a portal from Elysian appeared and Zeus stepped through it.

"Zeus…" Aphrodite uttered and the emotion on his face almost seemed foreign. He rarely had ever shown her any emotion, other than frustration and mild annoyance when she frequently disobeyed him.

"I have listed your grievances, King George and they have been heard. It is quite a list," Nyx stated. The King opened his mouth to speak, but Zeus raised his hand and the King began to choke.

"Zeus...stop! We need answers from him!" Aphrodite cried.

"The answers you seek will only hurt you...as they have hurt me. It is a burden you should not bear," he claimed.

"That's my decision!" she snapped. Zeus closed his eyes for a moment and then nodded, before releasing his hold on George.

"You will tell your part of the story, but they must know all of it and for that...we must start at the beginning," he said, as the portal of Elysian opened again and a beautiful woman with golden hair stepped through it.

"From the beginning? You mean when I arose from the sea foam?" she asked.

"You were not born full grown from the sea foam...you were born a baby like any other person," the woman said.

"Who are you?" Aphrodite asked, as James squeezed her hand, for somehow, they already knew the answer.

"She is Dione, my first wife...the only woman I ever loved," Zeus confessed.

"And your mother," he confessed, stunning her.

"If you're my father...then why hide from me?" she demanded to know tearfully.

"For your protection, my sweet daughter," Dione interjected. Aphrodite shook her head.

"I don't understand any of this," she sniffed, as James put his arms around her and kissed her hair.

"But you will and once Prince James knows of his past...he has the power to unlock all your memories," Dione said.

"Me?" James asked.

"You are her true love," Dione replied.

"Are...are you saying that the Horned King was right? Am I cursed?" Aphrodite asked.

"It's quite complicated...but in a way, yes," Zeus replied, as he looked at the disgraced King.

"Wait...my past? I know my past," James interjected.

"No...you don't," George said, as he pulled an item from his pocket and James gasped.

"That's a charm...from my mother's bracelet. From my adopted mother's bracelet," he said. He nodded.

"It's an ancient protection charm. You pulled it off her bracelet when you were two, but instead of being upset or having it reattached, she made a pin out of it and insisted you wear it always," George said.

"I know...I thought it was lost in battle," he said sternly.

"No...we took it and used the charm's enchanted nature to absorb your memories," George explained.

"Memories of what?" James asked impatiently, as George placed the charm in his hand and his eyes widened, as the memories consumed him.

~*~

Seven Years Before the First Dark Curse

Prince James expertly dueled his father's most skilled Knights in the palace courtyard. They were relentless, but the Prince was well trained and had far surpassed his teachers, which he proved when he defeated them all in the duel.

"I daresay, Your Highness, that I have nothing left to teach you," the lead Knight said.

"Very true and no offense, but I'm done spending my birthday here with all of you," James replied, as blotted the sweat from his forehead with a cloth.

"Ah yes...your twenty-first birthday. I'm sure the King will soon be choosing a bride for you," the Knight said.

"Well, then he will be sorely disappointed. Marriage should be about true love, not a business transaction," he said.

"And while Queen Serafina's sentiments about marriage are whimsical, Highness, you know as well as I do that a royal must marry for the good of his Kingdom," the Knight said, as James tossed the cloth away.

"You mean for gold. Father has emptied the royal coffers and I'm expected to get us out of this mess," he said bitterly.

"That is the life of a royal. Your life is not your own," the Knight reminded.

"We'll see," James said, as he went up to his chambers to wash up. As he entered, he closed the door and smiled when he felt a pair of arms go around his waist.

"Did I keep you waiting long?" he asked. She smiled, as he turned to face her and kissed her tenderly.

"No…I was watching you spar," she replied.

"That had to be boring," he commented.

"Not at all...I find it very interesting," she purred, as he kissed her passionately again.

"I need to clean up...maybe there's somewhere better to do that?" he asked. She grinned and they disappeared in a puff of orange smoke, before reappearing by a secluded lake, not far from Mount Olympus. Their kisses became feverish and clothes were pulled away desperately, before they waded into the water. He held her flush against him, as he kissed her passionately all over, her lips, her throat, and her breasts.

"James…" she pleaded, as she wrapped her legs around him and he kissed her again before sliding inside her. They made love in the water, passionately and desperately, starved for the pure pleasure that came with their coupling. She collapsed against him amidst a powerful climax and he came not far behind her. They held each other in the water for several long moments, before they proceeded to dry off and make camp for the night. Later, as they cuddled together, beneath thick blankets, on the heels of another bout of lovemaking, he finally spoke.

"I'm going to leave…" he said.

"James...are you sure? That Throne is your birthright," she replied.

"And I want no part of it if it means I can't marry you," he said.

"If gold is what he wants, I can magic him enough for a lifetime," she said.

"If only it was just that. But it's more about power for him. He has his sights set on Midas' Kingdom. He wants a merger, which means me eventually being forced to marry Princess Abigail," he replied. A spark of possessiveness moved through her at that and perhaps a tiny bit of jealousy. The thought of him being with another woman made her want to rage. But he would be forced to produce an heir, even if he continued to carry on with her on in the shadows.

"I won't do that to you...I won't have my true love as my mistress. I will have you as my only," he said, surprising her.

"Reading my mind again?" she teased.

"It's all over your face. You hate Abigail and you don't even know her," he teased back.

"I don't hate her...it's not like it would be her choice either, I'm sure. I would like to turn your father into a snail though," she said. He laughed heartily.

"Go for it...he's barely a father," he replied.

"Where will we go?" she asked.

"Anywhere...you're a Goddess. But if you really can pull it off, then we should leave this realm. My father is sore loser. He'll never stop hunting us," he replied.

"Hermes told me about a place...there's no magic there and it is very different. But she said it's peaceful. There are no royals or Kingdoms. Just people living their lives freely," she said. He smiled.

"Sounds too good to be true, but I'm certainly all for it," he replied. She smiled and kissed him, as they got dressed.

"I have to go to her Temple to summon her, but I'm ready when you are," she said. He nodded.

"I'll be here when you get back," he said, as he kissed her passionately and she disappeared. James heard a noise and unsheathed his sword.

"Show yourself!" he called into the darkness and was shocked to see his father and his lead Knight emerge.

"Hello son…" George said.

"How did you find me?" James demanded to know.

"I've had Knight Rivers tracking you and the Goddess on your excursions for months," George revealed.

"I'm not an unreasonable man. I wouldn't have cared if you kept her as a mistress. But you will not marry her, nor will you abandon your duty to your Kingdom," George said.

"I love her...what we have is far deeper than physical," James growled.

"Love is a poison...and I cannot risk the future of my Kingdom on love," George replied.

"You won't stop me," James challenged, but he was hit with a wave of blue fairy dust and fell unconscious to the ground, as the Blue Fairy emerged from the sky and became full sized.

"Are you sure this will work?" George questioned. She nodded.

"When he awakens, not only will all his memory of her be purged, he'll be easily malleable into whatever you want him to be," Blue said.

"Good...we may make a strong King out of him yet, once I beat all the love and good out of him," George said, as he looked at the head fairy, who was supposed to stand for good and love.

"And the Goddess?" he asked.

"Don't worry...she'll be dealt with as well. This isn't the first time I've destroyed her and it won't be the last," Blue replied. He looked curious at that.

"Why do you hate her?" he questioned and Blue glared at him.

"That's my business," Blue said, as she disappeared.

"Take him back to the castle. His reconditioning begins when he awakens. With true love purged from his soul...he'll be the ruthless King that we need someday," George said, as his lead Knight lifted the Prince onto his horse.

~*~

Blue reappeared in the Temple of Hermes and saw Aphrodite laying unconscious at Hera's feet.

"We have but a small window. Zeus and Hermes left the realm on an urgent matter, but I doubt they will be gone for long," Hera said.

"If Zeus finds out that the two of us and King George are directly responsible for destroying her true love once again, he'll make us wish for death," Blue warned. Hera smirked.

"He doesn't even know she was with him again. He has been too preoccupied with his own conquests lately and has left her to her own devices. He'll regret that," Hera said.

"We know why I hate her...but why do you?" Blue asked.

"You know why. Zeus never loved me or any of his conquests. Only Dione had his heart and therefore his precious spawn he had with her. I am always in the shadow of her beauty and goodness," Hera said.

"And if I will never have true love with her father...then she will never have true love with hers, no matter how many times Zeus brings him back," she added. Blue smirked.

"As long as she's in pain...that's all I care about. After what she did to me...I will make sure her immortality is spent in loneliness and pain," Blue said.

"We make a good team, as always," Hera agreed, as she poofed the water from the river Leche that she had acquired from Hades and forced it down the blonde's throat.

"Hermes will be back soon...we must go," Hera said, as they disappeared.

~*~

Hours Later

Zeus was fuming once again, for when he returned to Hermes temple, they had found Aphrodite unconscious. Athena had determined that water from the river Leche was administered to her, but they had no culprit. He had the usual suspects in mind, but he could not make accusations without proof; something he was sure the perpetrators were counting on.

"And you're sure they were together again?" Zeus questioned.

"I'm sure...I saw them," Athena replied.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he demanded to know.

"You've been a little occupied lately," she snapped in return and he scoffed.

"I am never too busy for my beloved gift...the only thing I have left of my Dione," he confessed.

"I know what people, Gods and mortals alike, think of me. And my daughter always pays for my sins and the hatred against me," he said.

"But no more," he continued.

"You are going to purge those facts from every book in this realm and every memory," he declared.

"Are you sure you want to do that?" Athena asked.

"It is in her best interest. Having me as a father brings her nothing but pain and when her true love dies again, as we know he will thanks to the curse, he will not be reborn this time," Zeus decreed.

"What!? Why would you do that to her!?" Athena cried.

"I cannot keep seeing her lose her true love! Even if her memory of him has been wiped away each time, the pain is still there in the fiber of her being. I cannot keep seeing her suffer," he said.

"And soon...she will have new charges. It's almost time. She will focus all her energy on them and perhaps they will not be utter failures like the Dragon King and Queen were," he added.

"Evil has had six hundred unhindered years to fester with none to stand for love and justice. Perhaps the only way to free her of this burden is to allow her true love to die so she can nurture and protect her charges this time from all they are facing," he said.

"They are coming into quite a challenging time," Athena agreed.

"But are you sure letting her true love stay dead is really the answer?" she asked.

"Yes...it's as I said. I cannot keep seeing her go through this and if I ever get the proof I need, I will go after the culprits. They will suffer," he promised. Athena nodded, as she cast a glance at her sleeping half-sister. She had always been Olympus' greatest light and had endured more pain than anyone should, mortal or immortal. If this spared her some of that pain, then she knew that was what they needed to do.

"And you're sure she'll never remember her entire past?" Athena asked.

"Not unless we allow it," Zeus replied. She nodded.

"Then it will be done," Athena confirmed.

~*~

James came out of the trance with a start and looked at her, remembering their past.

"You mean...everything I did. All the bad things…" he uttered.

"Was because I erased your memories of her...and it darkened your soul," George said, as his son punched him in the face. He stumbled back, but James grabbed him by the collar and moved him toward the river of lost souls.

"James!" Aphrodite called, cutting through his rage. His chest heaved, as he tried to get control of his anger. He released the evil King and turned back to her.

"If I give her true love's kiss, now that I know, will it return all her memories?" he asked. Zeus and Dione nodded.

"Yes...all of them and more that you must know as well. What you just remembered is only the tip of everything," Zeus replied.

"Will it cause her pain?" James asked tearfully.

"Immense pain...but also great joy. And with her curse broken, perhaps there will be no more pain," Dione revealed.

"James…" Aphrodite murmured, as he took her in his arms and kissed her passionately. A wave of pure rainbow light erupted from their kiss and her eyes widened in shock, as they were both plunged into a river of memories…

~*~

Fandral dismounted his horse and Zorro arrived shortly behind him.

"Anything?" he asked.

"Afraid not...but she is a fairy. She knows how to hide," Zorro replied. He sighed and his lead Knight clapped him on the shoulder.

"Don't worry...we shall find her. I imagine when Snow and David return and learn of what has occurred, they will deal with her permanently," he said. Fandral nodded.

"I'm sure you're right. Send out the second shift patrol and I will see you in the morning," Fandral said, as he went inside and found his beloved Rose in her library, on her ladder putting a book away.

"You're back...did you find her?" she asked, as he helped her down.

"I'm afraid not," he replied, as he kissed her tenderly.

"Well, you'll get her...I have faith," she said, before kissing him again.

"What's this?" he asked, noticing the book she had set aside.

"Answers...at least I think they might be. I know Aphrodite went to the Underworld to find her answers from the source, but I thought maybe we could have Tink use her magic to translate this book. If we know more about Blue and her history with Aphrodite, maybe it will help us find her," Rose said.

"It certainly couldn't hurt," he agreed.

"Good...because we're taking the kids to the diner and meeting her and Neal there," she mentioned. He chuckled and kissed her again.

"Sounds perfect, my angel," he said.

~*~

"What is this?" Leo asked, as he and Emma browsed the food table.

"I don't know...but it looks nasty," Emma complained.

"All of this does...where's the real food?" she asked.

"Well, there is shrimp. That's a plus," he said, as they both ate one.

"True...but I can't fill my empty stomach with just shrimp," she replied.

"Mom...what is this?" Leo asked.

"Well, if I had to guess, it's probably Escargot," she replied, as she stood beside them while David got them more champagne. Leo wrinkled his nose.

"You mean like snails?" he asked in disgust. She chuckled.

"Yes sweetheart...this is kind of a fancy party. They're not going to have diner fare," she replied.

"Well, they don't know what they're missing. I'll take Granny's any day over this crap," Leo complained.

"Right…Killian told me I didn't need my emergency pack of pop-tarts. Trust me, he's never going to hear the end of it," Emma said.

"Hey...we have magic here. We can just magic some," Leo replied. Emma smirked.

"Forget the pop-tarts. I'm going to magic a pizza," she said.

"No…" Snow admonished.

"You two could learn to expand your palette a bit," she teased.

"We will when Dad does...he won't eat Escargot either," Leo pointed out.

"He's right about that," David agreed, as he returned with her champagne.

"Face it Snow...your husband and children eat like ten-year-olds," Regina quipped.

"Please, you prefer pizza and shooting zombies over this kind of party any day," Leo quipped back and she smirked.

"Touche…" she agreed.

"Speaking of parties...this one is about to get less lame I think," Xander mentioned, as they saw Natalie and Johnny approach Summer, JJ, Eva, and Bobby, who were looking at the artifacts on display.

"Oh he is far too close to my babies…" Snow said, as David put his arm around her waist.

"Easy...let's not spook him. Come on," he said, as they approached. Leo, Emma, and Xander followed. The time for confrontation had come.

"Wow…" JJ said, as he examined the quipu as close as he could through the glass container around it.

"It's hard to believe that those knots and strings are a language," he mentioned.

"It truly is...I always found this stuff the most interesting in the history courses I took," Eva agreed.

"It's even more interesting in person," a woman said, as Eva turned to find the woman they had identified as Natalie Zearing. But it was the man next to her that gave her the creeps. She could see Clayton in him and realized he had the same smug smile as his evil father.

"You would know," Bobby commented and she smirked in amusement.

"Wow...that's actually refreshing. Don't hold back, kid," she commented. Johnny chuckled.

"That tactlessness is a famous Charming trait," he mentioned.

"So is defeating evil," Summer added.

"She's right," Snow agreed, as she and Charming arrived. Johnny smirked.

"Xander...long time no see. I was just a wee lad the last time I saw you. About the same age your son was when you abandoned him I think," he jabbed. Xander tried to advance on him for that, but Leo held him back.

"Easy Gramps...that's what he wants," Leo warned. His smirk widened.

"The truest loves...what an honor it is to finally meet face to face. I know your legacy well," he said.

"No doubt...your father had a sick obsession with us," David retorted. Johnny smirked again.

"Oh, the obsession part is true, but it goes far beyond just the two of you," he said.

"We know...it's the chalice he was obsessed with and I have a feeling you're the same," Snow replied. He shrugged.

"I only want what was promised to me. My legacy...which was stolen by that woman," he said, pointing at the Major.

"We don't like the way she went about any of that either, but you are not a victim in this. We know what you've both done and that collection that is your so called legacy? Your father stole it all. Thankfully, we gave it back to the people and it's in a museum where it belongs, just like these items are," David said.

"Wow...you really take that hero thing to a new level," Natalie replied.

"Just keep your sticky fingers off the artifacts and we won't have a problem," David retorted. Johnny smirked again.

"Oh…I'm afraid we can't do that," he said, as the room erupted in chaos when fire burst forth from the floor, sending the entire atrium into hysteria.

"It can't be...he's dead," Leo said, as he recognized the fiery horror that had just erupted around them.

"Only my previous host body is dead, Charming Junior, but my essence will always live on. I have chosen a new host," Mephisto said, as he emerged from the flames. But they didn't back down and they stood between this monster and the innocent people around them. JJ's eyes widened, as he saw a stream of fire coming at him, but was relieved when he safely found himself in a bubble.

"Thanks…" he said in relief.

"This is going to get messy...let's get people out of here," Eva suggested, as they started helping Robin and Belle do exactly that.

"The best thing about this new host is that he is known as Fagin and he came with a criminal network and a gang," Mephisto said, as several heavily armed men stormed into the museum and fired their guns into the ceiling, sending screaming people looking for a way out. Rumple quickly took care of that though and all their weapons disappeared, shocking them. The goons managed though, finding whatever objects they could to use as weapons. Emma and Leo stepped into subdue them and keep them from hurting others.

Johnny took the opportunity to smash the glass on the exhibits, allowing he and Natalie to grab the priceless artifacts, before making a run for it.

"Go...you two need to stop them! We'll handle Mephisto and his goons!" Regina called. Snow and David nodded, as Xander followed them and they gave chase...

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1000roughdrafts · 5 years

Text

Family Secrets: Chapter Two

The Phone Call

Summary: Investigating the strange case of what seems like demonic possession, you decide to call Bobby’s cell phone only to reach an unfamiliar voice on the other line. The news he gives you shakes you to your core, completely altering your life forever.

Warnings: angst, mention of Bobby’s Death

W/C: 2.1k

Masterlist/Schedule

Previous Chapter

After a long night of driving and even longer day of thought, you land yourself at a little motel in a remote town of Kansas. The room is certainly fit for one with its rusted twin bed and matching smokey walls. There isn't much to it outside of a metal table that squeaks at any movement and missing a chair. The atmosphere is so empty that your internal dialogue seems to bounce between the linoleum flooring and peeling ceiling and walls. You can't bare another second of this self-induced torture.

"Okay, pull yourself together," you say to yourself as you button up your best blouse.

Covering the shirt with a blazer that matches your pants, you push away the fears and look into the mirror. Your pale, Y/E/C eyes still laced with tears glisten in the light. "We've got to pull it together," you say louder this time while pulling the shadowy strands of hair from the side of your face and into a tight bun on the top of your head. "Maybe he's fine and just changed the number."

Turning away from the mess in the mirror, you sit on the bed to tie up you boots, "we still have a job to do."

Nerves strike as you rap on the window of an old oak door. You push the lingering thoughts away, and with a jittery hand reach into your pocket for you badge. Through the dusty window, you see a woman with brown hair that meets just below her shoulders. Her golden brown eyes are sunken in and look you over nervously before opening the door just enough to show you her triangular face and petite figure.

"Yes?" she clears her throat, but the words still crack on the way out, "I already spoke with the cops."

"I'm fully aware of that, Mrs. Mill." You force a smile to reassure her, "my name is Maggie Tarnish, and I'm just here to ask a few follow up questions. May I come inside?"

She eyes you and the badge timidly before motioning for you to step inside. "What a beautiful home," you acknowledge as she leads you into the living room and sits on the arm of an old rocking chair. Taking a few steps into the living room, you notice the toys that clutter the floor. "You've kids?"

Mrs. Mill matches your glimpse at television that sits on a stand filled with family movies and crayon colored pictures. "Just one," she clears her throat and motions for you to sit on the couch. "She's napping at the moment."

"Well, I won't take up too much of your time, then. I know how kids can be if they're woken early," you laugh delicately and place your hands in front of you, leaning forward. "I wanted, first of all, to make sure you were all right after the, uh," you pause to search for the right word, "incident."

"Oh, well... thank you. I'm pretty distraught, but I'll be fine." She doesn't look up when she speaks, just keeps her eyes on her hands as they rest in her lap.

"Yes, I've heard from your coworkers that you are a strong woman, Mrs. Mill. You have a 'can-do' attitude, and they seem to admire it. Will you explain to me what happened that day?"

She fiddles with her thumbs, twirling them around each other before she speaks, "I took a different path to work." She looks up at you with doe-eyes, "I live so close that I usually just walk. I got about halfway there when suddenly there was this," she pauses.

You scoot to the edge of the couch to take her hands in your own, "you can talk to me. It's okay."

"The sky was saturated with this bright light, and then, almost suddenly, there was this crackle and a big cloud of different colors. At first it made a loud thundering noise, so I thought it might be weird lightening, but then it started to fizzle out into a purple." Letting out a deep breath she looks back at her hands, "and then I woke up a week later, or at least I hear it was a week."

"Mrs. Mill, what is that you think happened that caused you to pass out?" you say softly, "did you see anyone or... or hear anything?"

She holds her eyes to yours, "I," she shrugs. "I don't know!" She covers her face with her hands, "I should never have told anyone about this." Looking back at you with wide, wet eyes she continues, "nobody believes me. I'm the joke of this town."

"I believe you," you smile. "I've seen weirder, trust me," you laugh.

"I doubt it," she scoffs.

"Do you remember anything from when you were passed out or before? Anything weird?" Noticing her confusion to the question, or lack of interest, you elaborate, "like voices, black smoke? Anyone talking through or over you?"

"What are you saying?" she says, switching into defense mode.

You keep your voice calm, "I'm just trying to check all avenues, Mrs.-"

"No." She stands up and places her hands on her face, "there was no black smoke or voices, or" she pulls her hands down to her sides, "none of that. And - and I think you should leave," she says softly.

"Okay," you say, standing up and heading for the door. "Thank you for your time."

When you get back to your motel you're exhausted and wish to rest your eyes, but all you can focus on is the dial tone response you received from calling him. You rip your favorite sweater from the table and slip outside.

The sweet air fills your lungs and the soft breeze passes by your skin, leaving its mark in tiny bumps. You close your eyes and tilt your head to the sky. Hair stands on end as you take another breath of the crisp air. Dark clouds parade the glistening sky and the sun has never been a more captivating and glowing amber.

Staring at your phone, more specifically the number you have dialed, you wonder whether or not it would be a smart move. It had been a long while since you've spoken to or even seen him, but above all you need to know that he's okay.

With a small glimpse of hope, you press the button. It rings for ages before anyone comes to the line. There is a faint sigh and you can almost feel its warmth. With trepidation and excitement you decide to break the silence, "Uncle Bobby?"

An unfamiliar voice meets your ear, shattering the illusion, "who is this?"

"You first," you demand, but the line goes silent save for a low and slow breath. After waiting only as long as you can stand, you growl into the device, "who are you and why the hell do you have Bobby's cell?

After another bout of silence, the voice comes forward, "listen, I hate to be the one to break this to you, whoever you are," there is a heavy pause, "uh, but, Bobby's been dead for over a year."

You can hear the pain in his voice, but it doesn't make it any easier to digest the words. You feel a knot tie up in your throat, and your eyes begin to swell with tears. Each droplet tastes of desperation and anguish. It would explain why the line was disconnected, but you're struggling to believe it. "How?" is all you can muster up.

Even though you don't know who is on the other end of the call, it feels as though you are talking with an old friend. There is a strange intimacy to his voice that almost makes you wish he never hangs up. As if he were talking to a child, his voice thaws, "he uh, he was murdered."

A hot rage fills you and escapes as a nervous and angry giggle. You shake your head. You weren't expecting this, not after what happened to Rufus.

"What?!" the voice thickens, "that's funny to you?" he accuses.

"No," you say, zoning back in. "God, no. I can't help the laugh. Sometimes it just happens, like a reflex, or... something." You forget that you're talking with a complete stranger as the words roll effortlessly off of your tongue. The tears accelerate and no matter how hard you try to hide it, he can hear it in your tremor. "I just never imagined a life without him. I guess I always kind of thought he'd live forever, you know," you say, wiping away the tears with the tattered tail of your sleeve. "Anyway," you say, unsure whether or not he's even on the line, "thanks for tellin', bye."

"Wait," you hear from the phone that's inches away from your puffy cheek.

"What?" you huff.

"I didn't catch your name."

"That's cause I never gave it to you."

The phone slips out of your hand, the screen shattering upon hitting the concrete. You can't remember the last time you felt anything as strong as you feel now. Your entire body is quivering, bound to lose traction at any given moment. Trying to get the door open takes longer than before, now that your strength is leaving through your eyes. With one last turn of the knob and a thrust of your shoulder, the door flies open and the force knocks you to the ground.

A plethora of emotions stews inside of you, yet the only one you struggle with is the fierce and burning anger you've tried for years to conceal. You'd been on your own for so long you forgot what it was like to be held, and you yearn for someone to sooth you, someone who can make you feel calm and safe. Bobby was that person, once upon a time, but now you have absolutely no one except for yourself.

The continual line of thoughts regarding someone you'd never have the chance to see again only adds fuel to the fire in your chest. After grabbing your keys from the bed, you bolt out of the door.

Two federal impostors wait impatiently at Mrs. Mill's front door. They see that she's reluctant to come forward, so they flash a smile and their badges. She only opens the door as much as the chain allows.

"Mrs. Mill," Dean says as they put their credentials back into their suits. She makes out a semi-vocal response without opening her mouth and skims their appearance. "I'm Agent Roth, and this is my partner, Agent Malloy," he gestures to himself and then Sam. "We wanted to speak with you about what happened."

She rolls her eyes, "is that really necessary? I've talked to the police, I've talked to the newspapers, I've even talked with another FBI agent already. What information could you possibly need that hasn't been out already. Sky got bright, crackle happened, multi-color cloud, and I woke up a week later."

"And you have no memory of that week?" Dean questions.

There is a natural glow and chirp to her voice, "no. Not a damn thing."

"Wait a minute," Dean says with a tilted head. "Did you say another agent has already questioned you?"

"Yeah, name was Maggie." She looks at the ground, "she seemed nice enough at first, but asked such strange questions."

"Define strange," Sam says, mirroring Dean's perplexed expression.

She looks around and back to the porch with a sigh, "look. I'm done talking about this. I can't do it anymore."

"I understand that, Mrs. Mill. Given the stress that you've been in about all of this, I would be feeling the same way," Sam offers with soft eyes. "However, we're actually quite worried that this person who was here before may have been impersonating a federal agent. We'd like to get some information about her, if we could?"

Mrs. Mill sighs, "she asked if I saw black smoke, or heard voices. Can you believe that?"

"Actually," Dean shakes his head with a low chuckle, "we, uh, we can. Did she say anything else?"

"Well, she basically asked if it was possible that," her hands tremble. She nervously fiddles with the door and brings her voice to a whisper, "someone... something could have been inside of me, controlling me, I guess." She scoffs, "as if that's even possible."

"Yeah," Dean mutters under his breath before clearing his throat. "Can you tell me what she looked like?"

Mrs. Mill tells the agents what she remembers of your appearance. "I honestly didn't really believe she worked for the agency at all. Probably read the story in the newspaper and wanted to see what else she could find out."

"Uh, if I may ask you one more question, Mrs. Mill," Sam interrupts. "What do you remember from when you woke up?"

"Well, I was alone and I had such an intense headache." She puts her hand to her head, "the air smelled gross, and I was so hungry. It was a horrible combination."

"What kind of smell?"

"Uh, kind of like a gas leak. It was really out of place so it stuck with me."

Clearing his throat, Dean looks at Sam with a firm glance. "How far from where you blacked out did you end up?"

"Around the same spot, I guess."

Sam tilts his head, "really?"

"Where?" Dean grunts.

"Couple miles from here, I'll write it down if you'd like."

"We'd appreciate that, thank you," Dean smiles, pulling out a notepad and pen for her. She finishes her scribbling and smiles, "thank you for your time, Mrs. Mill. You've been a great help."

She bows her head and shuts the door behind her. "Gas leak," Sam says as they make their way down the steps and to the pathway. "Has to be sulfur," he says looking at the concrete in front of them and around the neighborhood.

"What would a demon want with a secretary?"

Sam shrugs, "could just have been a random encounter, use her body as a vehicle." They continue to survey the neighborhood until coming to a full stop next to the Impala. "And what about this Maggie asking strange questions? Should we look into that, see what she knows?"

"What? You think she's a hunter?" Dean scrunches his face.

"Dean, come on. She was basically asking the same questions. Just in a more," he moves his hand while searching for a softer framing to his words, "direct way. I think it's worth checking out."

Next Chapter

~~~ Forevers<3: @waywardblueshun @81mysteriouslyme @lilulo-12

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