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plentyelegant · 3 years

Text

never mind about the shape I'm in, I'll keep you safe

(alternative title: Klaus just loves his baby sister send tweet)

Summary: After getting bested by their umpteenth threat to the world's continued existence, the siblings not only get scattered across the city, but their powers scattered amongst them. After waking up without his powers, a clue which of his siblings' powers he did have, or where his siblings actually were, Klaus starts looking for them... only to see possibly the most heartbreaking sight he could have imagined: Vanya, obviously burdened with his powers of seeing and hearing the dead... in a cemetery.

Words: 3.8k

Pairings: PLATONIC Klaus & Vanya (and some platonic Klaus & Allison near the end)

Warnings: Hurt/Comfort. Sensory overload/panic attack. Discussion of seeing/hearing ghosts. Mentions of death, drugs, and Reginald's abuse (The Mausoleum). One mention of insanity (klaus being worried his powers might drive vanya insane).

A/N: This is my first tua oneshot! I've been working on it since Friday because... well... the idea wouldn't leave me alone until I got it out in a fic. I actually did it instead of finally finishing s2, so... it might be a bit ooc? But I hope you like it! Title from "S/C/A/R/E/C/R/O/W by MCR. Based on the second addition of this post of mine. <3

---

Well, Klaus thought, isn’t this just swell?

“Swell” was probably, by far, one of the most inaccurate ways to describe this debacle that he could come up with. Just earlier that afternoon - Oh, what a nice afternoon it had been! - he and his siblings were dealing with some threat. Maybe it was more nefariousness from the Commission, maybe they were preventing the apocalypse of the week. Who knew? Who kept track, anyway, of the fires they’d been putting out?

(Well, Five probably did. But that wasn’t the point.)

But it just so happened that this fire they’d been putting out had been able to best them and scatter them across the city. What’s more, this fire wasn’t an ordinary fire, but one like themselves, or that chameleon-esque one from the 60s. Maybe that fire had intended to erase or absorb their powers, and the act had been botched, or this was their intent all along. It didn’t matter, really; all that mattered was that this fire managed to give his and his siblings’ powers a whole switcheroo before scattering them.

(Alright, metaphors aside, it wasn’t a fire. It was a villain.)

Klaus’ only reassurance that their powers hadn’t been erased entirely (or taken by the villain for themself) was that, after they’d sent a blast out at him and all of his siblings, leaving the six positively reeling, Klaus had seen a very confused Luther start “blipping” everywhere, ala Five’s teleportation, before they’d all been scattered. Oddly enough, he’d been grateful for seeing that; if Luther had Five’s powers, it stood to reason that each of them had the power of another sibling instead of their own… right?

Well, it was what Klaus was going with.

But when he came to without any of his siblings around, a clue where they were, or that power-swapper in sight, he decided against trying to figure out which of their powers had been thrown at him. He may not have been the smartest of the bunch (that was either Five or Allison, really. Probably Allison. Yeah, it was Allison.), but even he knew it would have probably been a bad idea to see if he could control things’ directions like Diego, or rumor things into existence (or nonexistence) like Allison, or make use of Luther’s super strength.

And he could only imagine the catastrophe that might come about if he tried to use Vanya’s powers. The only one who knew how to best handle them was Vanya herself. And even she wasn’t exactly well-acquainted with them!

No, no, no. The best plan - if he could call whatever the fuck he was improvising a plan, which just didn’t seem like the right thing to do - was to find the others, figure out who had whose powers, and realize which one he had through process of elimination.

Speaking of elimination, as Klaus searched through the streets for where the other five ended up, he’d at least been content with the power-swapping ensuring that he wasn’t hounded by the dead as he attempted to round up his siblings. Silence from the ghosts was a pleasantry he’d never quite been used to, especially silence that hadn’t come along with either being as high as a kite or drunk as a skunk. At least, it made it easier to look for the others.

“Allison!” he called out as he walked the streets, “Vanya! Diego!”

Of course, sober or not, he still drew stares from passers by as he called their names. That was fine. He just had to find them as soon as he could. They couldn’t have been far!

(Well, they very well could have, but right now, Klaus took quite a liking to trying to reassure himself through falsehoods so he didn’t panic. It was fun.)

After an hour or two of searching fruitlessly for his brothers and sisters, he eventually turned into a lesser-populated street of town - a street which harbored a cemetery.

He winced at the sight of the large plot. He always hated going into graveyards; they only bombarded him with ghosts (which he’d never forgotten Reginald taking advantage of with that fucking mausoleum). Of course, the dead couldn’t do much to him now, since he’d been stripped (or relieved?) of his usual powers that afternoon, but that didn’t stop him from grimacing.

But his grimace fell when he saw someone in a patch of trees far off on the opposite side of the property from where he’d stood outside it’s gates.

“Oh no,” he mumbled to himself as he shook his head, “Oh, no, no, nononono-”

He wished he was mistaken in thinking he recognized that quivering little frame, curled up against a tree with her forehead against her knees as she kept them close to her chest; he wished he didn’t recognize her all-black outfit from earlier, or her brown hair which she’d had her hands dug into as she covered her ears.

He’d recognized that posture all too well. Not from her, but from himself; from his days locked in the dark of that mausoleum, trying to cover his ears to block everything out and make himself small, because he felt small - and he was, he was just a kid - and curling into a ball because he’d had no one there to hold him but himself.

It was Vanya.

Vanya had his powers.

...And she got dropped in a fucking cemetery.

“Oh, fuck!”

Klaus half-ran, half-stumbled into the graveyard. Thankfully, it was nearly empty, and the few people there paid no attention when he ran across the yard, dodging and hurdling over headstones when he’d needed to. He’d dodged them on instinct and reflex alone, because all he could think about was that scared little ball up against that tree. He didn’t try to call to her; not only was he almost out of breath, but he feared that trying to call her name while she didn’t see him would just add to the bombardment of voices that no doubt rang out in her head.

As he got closer, the sight just became more and more heartbreaking, but it was at its worst when he’d gotten right in front of her, and he could hear her sobs.

“Go away.” she pleaded, a little muffled with how her head had been ducked behind her knees, “Please, please just go away.”

Klaus knew she wasn’t talking to him, but the ghosts. She wasn’t even aware of his presence yet. And he couldn’t let that stand, so he dropped to his knees and put his hand on her arm.

“Vanya-”

“NO!” she jerked away from his hand with a sob. He didn’t blame her - he would have done the same, after being left alone with the ghosts for…

...Oh, fuck, it had been hours since they’d been scattered. Hours since she’d ended up here. In a cemetery. With overwhelming powers of seeing the dead. Alone.

“Vanya!” he said louder, trying to speak over the ghosts if he could have. Gently, instead of putting a hand on her arm again, he placed both his hands on her shoulders.

Finally, her head snapped up, and when he saw those big brown eyes shine with tears that hadn’t already joined the others that streamed down her face, it took all Klaus had in him not to start crying too. Instead, he just put his hands over hers. It wouldn’t do much to actually deafen the ghosts, but he hoped it at least gave her some comfort.

“It’s me, Vanny.” he said, hoping she’d hear it, or at least know what he was saying, “It’s just me.”

Her lips, which had been relaxed as they trembled from shock, contorted into a grimace.

She hugged Klaus so tightly that it almost winded him. Even with her powers being as incredible as they were, he always got surprised at how much physical force could be inside one little violinist. Still, he hugged her back, tight enough to reassure her while not making her feel restrained. No one really hugged him when the ghosts got too strong before, but if they did, this was how he would have liked it.

Klaus could feel Vanya grab fistfuls of the back of his shirt and hold them in what he aptly assumed was a white-knuckled grip. That was alright, he was just glad she hadn’t scratched him in the process.

“There’s-” she started, her head nestled against the crook of his shoulder, her voice shaking, so little, “There’s - there’s so many of them-”

Even though she couldn’t really see it, he tried to smile reassuringly.

“Ohhh,” He tried to make his voice as reassuring as the smile she couldn’t see. “Don’t pay any mind to those silly gooses, Vanny. All their snarling and shrieking’s just for show.”

Klaus could hear her sniffle against his shoulder.

“...Geese.”

Klaus twisted his neck a little to look at what was visible of Vanya’s face, “Hm?”

Vanya picked her head up a bit.

“Not gooses.” she said, her voice strained and her eyes red, both obvious byproducts of crying as she was bombarded by the spirits of the dead in a cemetery for hours, “Geese.”

Klaus rolled his eyes in mock exasperation. Of course, of all the things that helped ground her, it was correcting his grammar. Still, he took what he could get.

“Oh, so you write one bestseller, and now you know everything about grammar, don’cha?” he said, smiling and giggling when he’d finished so she’d hopefully know he’d been trying to be lighthearted.

Apparently, it worked, because a smile twitched at the corners of her lips, and she laughed a hoarse little laugh…

...until her little smile fell, and that laugh turned into more shaking breaths again, getting deeper and deeper until she gasped with every breath.

Oh, no.

Of course, it hadn’t grounded or distracted her for long; she hugged him tighter and nestled her head against his shoulder again. But this time, she screamed against his shoulder, a sound that wasn’t made one bit less heart-shattering by being muffled. As he tried to stop his own lips from trembling and his own eyes from watering, he just hugged her tighter.

“Shhhh, it’s okay, Vanny, it’s okay.” he said, his shushing more to sooth her than to actually make her be quiet, which he knew wouldn’t work the moment she shrieked again, “You’re okay. Just focus on this. Just on me.”

“I can’t.” she choked out, “I can’t - I can’t do it - I can’t-”

As hysteric as she was… Klaus knew she was right; she couldn’t withstand this. Not for much longer. Even after almost thirty years with the ghosts, he still had a hard time keeping them at bay. For years, he couldn’t. That’s why he’d started the drugs. But even his experience with the ghosts all his life, as nightmarish as it had been, was nowhere near as bad as what had been thrust upon Vanya. He, at least, had ways to withstand it, or keep it drowned out. Vanya didn’t have that.

And it was killing her.

It was killing his baby sister.

Maybe it wasn’t killing her, but without a way to quiet it, or keep it at bay, Klaus didn’t have any doubt that… that it could drive her mad. He feared it for himself, some days in his childhood, but that fear became so much more real - and so much worse - as his sister shook in his arms.

“Klaus. Please. Help me.”

But he didn’t know how.

She was in too much hysterics to walk out of here, and he wasn’t strong enough to carry her. He didn’t have any drugs on him either - even if he did, he was not going to give them to Vanya; there was no way in hell he was going to fuck her up like that. She didn’t have any of the mood regulators she used to take, either, which might have dampened the ghost-seeing powers just like they did her moon-blow-uppy powers before.

He didn’t know what to do. His little sister was in pain and terrified and he didn’t know how to make it go away.

...He had an idea.

There was one thing he could try - something he’d wished and asked fruitlessly for often when he was little. He didn’t know if it would work, but he didn’t know for sure that it wouldn’t work, either. If it could help Vanya, it was worth a shot.

“Vanny, I have an idea,” he pulled his arms away, “But you have to trust me, okay?’

He felt her head move in a frantic nod.

“I do, I do, I do, just - just do something -”

He put his hands on her arms and gently pulled them away and pushed her back a bit so she was right in front of him, and he could look into her eyes. He didn’t know if eye contact was necessary for this, but why risk messing it up if it was?

He took a deep breath and said something he wished countless times to hear as a child; something he’d probably look really, really stupid for saying if this didn’t work, and he didn’t get the power that he really, really hoped he did.

“I heard a rumor that the ghosts went away.”

…Vanya’s eyes clouded over.

Klaus didn’t think he’d ever felt so relieved in his life. Not even after he’d been brought out of the mausoleum, or when he’d needed anaesthetics to wire his jaw shut after he fell down the stairs, and he realized that drugs shut the ghosts up. No, this was more of a relief than all of that, guaranteed.

After a few seconds, Vanya’s eyes cleared up, going from milky white back to their normal brown. Immediately, she closed them as she brought her hands to the sides of her head, her little frame sagging with fatigue.

“Did it work?” he asked with a tilt of his head. Letting out a deep breath, she nodded.

“Thank you…” she mumbled, exhaustion evident in her voice as she opened her eyes, though her eyelids were heavy.

Klaus smiled again.

“Pure luck, Vanny.” he said, “That’s all that was.”

“Mhm…” she nodded a little, sleepy nod before her eyes fell shut and her head lolled to the side…

And the rest of her body followed.

Though she was still kneeling, and it wouldn’t have hurt much if she hit the ground, Klaus still caught her as she fell unconscious, keeping her back and neck supported as best he could as he gently laid her on the ground next to the tree she’d been curled up against. Of course she collapsed; he knew how exhausting this must have been for her.

So, Vanya has my powers, I have Allison’s, and…

Klaus thought back to earlier, when he’d seen Luther frantically blipping around.

...Luther has Five’s. Great.

Well, it wasn’t like he could go searching for the others and figure out where the other three powers ended up. Vanya, laying flat on her back in the shade, was already dead to the world, and would probably be for a while yet, and Klaus would never just leave her here. Also, since he didn’t exactly have Luther-like super strength (or, depending on who got it in the switch… Allison-like? Diego-like? Five-like? Oh, now that would be rich.), or as much upper body strength as he’d like, he couldn’t carry her out.

No… the best thing to do was wait here. Whether he was waiting for one of the others to find him, or for Vanya to wake up, or for someone to kick the both of them out when the graveyard closed, he wasn’t sure. But he knew he’d wait right there for one of those things… preferably any but the latter.

Resigned and relieved, he moved over to sit up against the tree, next to his sleeping sister. With his back against the bark, he let his head loll back. Until now, he hadn’t realized how exhausted he’d been in all of this, after walking the streets for hours, running to poor Vanya, and finding her as he did…

It had been a full afternoon, and he decided resting his eyes for a bit wouldn’t hurt.

---

Klaus was lured back into the realm of the conscious by the sound of voices.

“There they are!” he’d heard.

No, not the voices of the dead he usually heard. Those would be with Vanya when (if at all) that rumor wore off (and honestly, he hoped it wouldn’t).

No, it was the voices of his siblings.

“Klaus!” he heard Five’s ever-snippety tone.

“Vanya!” he heard the worry in Allison’s voice.

He opened his eyes to see the rest of his siblings coming towards them; Allison and Five, who he heard moments before, as well as Diego and Luther. He let out a sigh. Thank fuck. He’d been worried that he might get kicked out first, as that would’ve been his luck.

It didn’t take long for them to make their way over to them.

“What happened-” Luther started, a little loud due to his concern. So it didn’t wake Vanya (or disturb nearby mourners), Klaus brought a finger to his lips and shushed him.

He pointed down to Vanya, still sleeping at his side, and put up his hands - and their ouija board-esque tattoos - in a flourish, a clear gesture saying that Vanya had his powers.

They all got it immediately.

“What about you guys?” he whispered.

“Well,” Allison started, still glancing at Vanya. “After I tried seeing if I could control where things I threw went, I figured out I had Diego’s powers.”

She nodded to Diego as he stood behind her, looking over her shoulder to stare down at Vanya with a troubled gaze, which almost looked… restrained, as if he was trying to keep his emotions at bay.

“I landed by a lake, so it was easy to find out with skipping stones.” she explained. Of course, leave it to Allison to find the most practical way to deduct which power she’d gotten.

(It must have been fun holding the family’s brain cell.)

“And after a few broken streetlamps,” Five announced, hands in his pockets, “Figured it would be best if Diego here kept a cool head for a while.”

So, he’s got Vanya’s powers. Klaus figured out. Makes sense.

It didn’t, but none of this did. Nothing in their lives ever did.

“And it took a bit to find Luther when he kept blipping across the street every time he sneezed.” Allison said, eyeing a very sheepish Luther behind her.

“Sorry.” He rubbed the back of his neck.

“That means…” Five trailed off.

Klaus nodded.

“I’m all…” he brought up his hands and wiggled his fingers, “rumory.”

Allison looked between him and Vanya. “Did you use it?”

Klaus nodded again.

“Just to get the ghosts off her back.” he assured, looking down at his sister, “Ohhh, they just terrified poor Vanny. She was crying her eyes out when I found her.”

He looked back up at them.

“She alright now?” Diego asked. Either he was doing a terrible job at keeping his worry for Vanya out of his voice, or he wasn’t trying at all.

“Oh, yeah, yeah, she’s fine.” He waved his hand as nonchalantly as he could manage, as if it didn’t feel weird to talk about how “fine” his sister was after he found her crying her eyes out. “She’s just… out. She ended up passing out all on her own.” He shrugged and shook his head. “Wasn’t me, or the rumor. She was just tuckered out, poor thing.”

Five walked forward until he was right in front of Vanya, crouched down, put one arm under her back and one under her legs, and - much to Klaus’ surprise - lifted her with no trouble. Klaus’ eyes widened at the sight, and his eyebrows raised.

“Super strength.” he said, completely and utterly matter of fact.

Oh. Klaus held back a grin and stifled a giggle. Of course.

“Which means,” he grit his teeth, “it won’t be hard to throw one of these headstones at you if you let out that laugh you’re doing a shit job at holding back.”

Keeping a poker face, Klaus put up a thumbs-up.

“Come on.” Five turned around, “Let’s figure this out.”

Five started to lead the pack of power-mismatched siblings out of the cemetery, and even though he wasn’t sure where they were going, Klaus followed where Five was leading. That always took him and his siblings to the most lovely destinations, didn’t it?

He ended up falling in stride with Allison, who kept looking at the ground.

“So…” she lifted her head back up and looked at him, “You used a rumor on her?”

Even though she’d already asked that, Klaus nodded.

“If there’s one thing I know, Allie,” he started, “it’s how bad the ghosts are. Especially somewhere like…”

He gestured around them.

“...this. I felt pretty out of options, really. I didn’t even know I had it. Pure luck - that’s what we usually run on, right? Luck, I think, is the lifeblood of the Hargreeves.”

“You sure it’s not things going wrong?” she asked. Klaus shrugged.

“Hey,” he said, “the family can have two lifebloods.”

Allison seemed to agree. “God knows we need it.’

After another moment or so of walking, she laughed a little laugh - not really a laugh, but close enough to one that any other word would have been too inaccurate.

“I remember…” She let her gaze fall to the ground. “When we were kids, you’d always ask me to use it. All the time. When we’d come back from missions, when you’d have nightmares, when Dad let you out of…”

She didn’t finish that thought. Instead, she shook her head.

“...and I never did. I wanted to, but-”

“Alliiie, you don’t have to explain yourself.” He waved it off with a shrug, “I get it! Dear ol’ Dad would’ve lost his marbles. I never held that against you, and neither-” he put his hand on her shoulder, “should you.”

Allison nodded before she said…

“It might not wear off.”

Klaus gasped, putting a hand over his mouth.

“Oh, nooo! That's... the opposite of a problem!”

Allison rolled her eyes.

“Klaus...”

“Come ooon.” he said, “Seeing ghosts all the time is, surprisingly enough, not all it’s cracked up to be. Kinda spooky, actually.”

“I'm just saying,” she said, a little exasperated by her brother’s sarcasm, “It might be permanent. Even when we do get our powers switched back. Sometimes… rumors stick around for a while.”

“Well…” he winced, “I guess we’ll just burn that bridge when we get to it.”

“You mean cross that bridge?”

At that exact moment, they both heard a loud sneeze and whipped their heads forward at Luther - or at least, where he was. Much to the other four’s exasperation (Vanya didn’t respond, as she was still asleep), he’d blipped across the graveyard.

“...Nope.”

#the umbrella academy #umbrella academy #mine #tua #tua fanfic #klaus hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #my writing #allison hargreeves #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #five hargreeves

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vanillann · 4 years

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five star conversation (r.p)

a/n: i’m going to cry, i can’t believe this is the last part of my favorite mini series:(

word count:

5 star conversation masterlist

place four: a 1 star gig

Flynn was always on top of things, she always was, but when she wasn’t you didn’t want to be lodged on a tour bus with her. She had already tried to throw her phone out the window, thank God Alex was looking for his hat and he caught it.

“They canceled our reservation! That must be illegal!”

I curled closer to Julie on her bed, letting my head rest on her shoulder every time Flynn let out a line of words. Reggie had a small panic attack with the yelling and Flynn tried to apologize but he didn’t blame, he was just as mad. So now the boy walked around the gas station we had stopped at and Julie and I let Flynn rant to us, she deserved it.

“Maybe another venue will host us,” Julie spoke up when Flynn didn’t yell again, her feet had finally stopped leaving marks in the carpet from pacing.

“I’ve already called two and they said their full, which had to be a lie, and plus how do we get the word out to the fans!” Flynn reached down and grabbed my knee, looking at me with sad eyes.

I pulled my phone from my pocket, waving it in the air while I sat up.

“I can always do a live and explain everything, why don’t you get some air,” I rubbed her shoulder, hoping she would take my advice, She had always given Reggie and Alex a heart attack and maybe going to the little nature walk across the street would be good, she could throw some rocks at some trees.

“I’ll get some air, yeah okay.”

She hurried off the bus, most likely to throw or kick rocks around the parking lot as Flynn never liked nature trails, it was nice to dream. If she dented this bus, we’ll be in debt.

“I can’t believe the venue canceled, it was our last gig on tour too!” Julie stood, looking down as I laid on her bunk and played with my phone in between my fingers.

I didn’t have to heart to tell the fans that we didn’t have a venue, that we wouldn’t have a final gig that was supposed to help release the new album coming out in five months.

It might have seemed small, we were blessed we even had this opportunity but it doesn’t change the fact that the one we're most excited for now was not happening.

“I’m going to find the boys, you coming?”

I closed my eyes, the boys. Everything they worked for was now becoming a nightmare, their idea of the perfect tour was ruined with falling through plans and missed opportunities.

“No, I need to go live and get the word out anyways,” I brushed off Julie, I didn’t have the heart to look any of them in the eye and tell them. To break their heart like everyone else in their life has, I just couldn’t do it. Julie waved behind her, I waited until the bus door shut before I let my head rollback.

I looked up at the bunk above me, Flynn’s, and let my mind wander over the past few months. They were perfect. Watching the fan scream their name for hours and they showed them in their element. The pictures that have been taken, many saved in my phone of the people I would always turn to. The edits that have been made have made me laugh harder than I imagined. Before this tour, nobody knew me, not that I ever cared, but I was behind the scenes. Now, the fans want me on the stage even if I don’t contribute to the music.

The music, the music had been show-stopping. Luke has been through four journals the past few months, writing back fast food drive in’s and doing stupid things with friends, that how the new album was coming out so fast. They were all so excited, Reggie was so excited to have one of his own songs featured as a single.

Reggie.

I let my hand run over my face, feeling the embarrassment from the incident at the fair. Watching his face move closer to mine, like a slow-motion picture and then ripped away when it was ripped in half. I took a minute and tried turning it into a moment, but it was never our moment. All the giggles and inside jokes hurt my chest and I thought back to the more recent time of the tour.

The motel, the way the light shines across his face and we wondered would the world cave in around. The feeling of his hand gripping my shirt because he always felt he had to be touching someone, he said it reminds him not to act so dead.

The diner when he gave me sweet little comments and took my fork from my lips. When we laughed about food poisoning and wondered would we ever be the same people after he played with my finger from across the table.

The fair where I gave him his first horse, then named it after an artist I introduced to him too. The way the wind passed his hair like he was made to run away from the world that had disappointed him more than once.

Every one-star establishment that made me believe could kiss my butt because now we had nothing. I didn’t need any more one-star buildings and places in my life. They’re just cheap and used for people who have no other options.

I sat up quickly, so quickly my head hit Flynn bunk.

No other options and cheap, exactly what someone in our situation could use right now. I let my phone spin between my fingers, unlocking it quickly before finding my search bar. We sat in the center of California, there had to be a one-star building somewhere near, one that we could turn into a dive bar or something. I smiled when a cheap bar popped up first, the area large enough to hold people and a small stage the band could work with.

Larry’s Bar was suddenly open for business. I dialed the number quickly, praying for the first time in a week something would go my way.

“L-larry’s Bar,” the woman sounded out of breath but I couldn’t care.

“Can we rent out your bar for a band?”

“Huh?”

“We need a venue for a band performance,” I realized why Flynn handled this and not me, this was out of my comfort zone.

“Are you sure you have-”

“Incredibly sure, yes or no?”

The line went silent, for a minute I thought she hung up on me and I considered crying with Reggie’s stuffed horse for a minute.

“The bar’s yours,” the lady's voice sounds light suddenly like we finally both got some good news. She definitely made my week without knowing.

“We’ll be there in forty-five minutes,” I didn’t wait for a response, rushing out of the tour bus to find someone. When I spotted everyone leaning against an ice machine outside the gas station with sad faces, my legs couldn’t stop me from rushing. I was happy Fylnn already kicked all the rock because otherwise, I would have felt.

“Guys!”

“Hey,” Alex's voice was sad and sincere, about to place a hand on my shoulder but I was bouncing on my toes.

“Whip off your sad faces, I got us a gig!”

“Just got off live, the fans are going to spread the information,” I yelled throughout the bar, and Luke and Jessie, the lady from the phone, moved the last few tables around the bar to make more room. Reggie and Alex did a quick soundcheck, we were currently renting amps and such from across the street since the owner's daughter was apparently a “Luke Girl”.

“Thank God, I would hope we don’t do all this work for nobody to show up” Alex called back as he did the classic comedy drum sound, giving a smile as he grabbed the extra drumstick from his back pocket.

I rolled my eyes, hopping off the stage to the small table at the door for Flynn and me to sit at for tickets and shirts, CD including, and a special code for the single Reggie was presenting tonight.

Luke and he had been fighting over it for ten minutes because Reggie changed the one he wanted to release last minute, it must have been good if Luke was letting him get away with it.

“I can’t believe you pulled this off,” Flynn sat in her seat with her arms crossed, people would be arriving as soon as possible and we were prepared for anything.

“What can I say,” I smiled brightly, taking the seat beside her.

“What made you think of this?”

I wanted to say, Reggie, that he almost always somehow inspired my best ideas but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. Almost everyone knew of the almost kiss and how awkward things have been between us, so awkward I couldn’t say his name.

“Just about what happened at the motel, how we had to make it work.”

It wasn't a lie, that was for sure.

“Well, you saved the tour,” Flynn leaned over and squeezed my shoulders, her bucket hat titled as it smashed against my face. I hugged her back, smiling into her shoulder, I saved the tour.

The crowd screamed as the band finished off “Bright”, sweat dripping down them as they gave wide gestures.

“Thank you! Now it’s surprise time!” Julie passed the microphone to Luke, who looked so excited for his next set of words.

“The rumors about the new album are true,” he let the mic drop until the screams died down, “and we are here to show one of the singles for the said album that will drop on March 3rd at midnight!”

The crowd went crazy again and I laughed against Flynn, we both decided to stay in our chairs for the performance as we had an amazing view and we didn’t want to push through everyone. I was scared that everyone would see the one-star and turn the other way but every ticket that was bought came.

Reggie smiled as he took the stage, his bass switched for an acoustic, which confused me but I didn’t think much about it, I knew he liked to mess with it sometimes.

“Hi everybody!”

Reggie gave a peace sign to the crowd, the few girls who wore Reggie’s face on their shirt screamed at the top of their lungs.

“This is a song I wrote a few weeks ago on tour called “Five Star conversation.”

I looked over my shoulder at Flynn, her eyes wide as she watched Reggie get situated on his stool in front of the mic.

“What song is this?”

“Uhm, this one?”

All she did was point and I decided to go back and watch him play. I could always ask later, I’d have to make merch with it anyways.

“Dingy bathrooms and motel floors, I’d never wanted you more than right now,” Reggie's voice came out rough as his voice played with the melody just right. His finger-picked at the string and I was shocked by the slow melody. This definitely wasn’t a song I’d heard.

“The city lights across your face, I swear you fell from grace. The world around me seemed to disappear the second you spoke,” that when it happened, the moment he turned his head. He looked in my eye, the words rooting themselves in my chest, tattooed across my heart.

“Our five-star conversations were softer than the pillows beneath me, I wish you could have really seen me.”

I felt myself chew on my bottom lip, feeling my eyes turn to me as his attention never left my face. He was watching me, the same way he had in every other one-star establishment, but this felt different.

“Oh, you wouldn’t know the five-star conversation I had with your soul.” The medley rang out, Julie’s soft humming joined in behind and I wondered how anyone could focus.

How could anyone think straight when someone was looking so adoring under the flashing light of a cheap bar that smelt like feet?

How could I pay attention while he looked at me like I hung the stars in the sky when he hung the moon?

“Crappy food and screaming doors, I wonder if you knew of your own grace!” His word rang back in my eye, like a bug that wouldn’t quite go away, not that I would ever want this to stop.

But it had to stop because I was suddenly the center of attention and I couldn’t handle it. I couldn't know the world more than I did. But I was rooted in place watching the boy I had fallen so hard for a look at me with his puppy eyes and wonder where we would stand after this.

“Don’t let me lose our five-star conversation in a one-star world after all,” he strummed the last bit of the song, I barely processed half the word before I let my legs go. I was walking somewhere, wherever my feet would allow me to go. I was outside, the brick wall of the bar brought me back to reality.

The same reality where I didn’t think boys wrote songs that sweet and they didn’t look at you like that. They didn’t look at you like you spun gold strings and gave them pretty smiles, but he did.

He always did, he always looked at me like I belonged next to him saving tours and making horrible plans. He looked at me like I could be his muse for the rest of his life, of death is more appropriate. He looked at me as if I was more than his because I wasn’t his, I was myself and that’s all he wanted.

He was in love with me, the same person from the motel, the same person for the diner, the same person from the fair.

I was the five-star person in the world star world, I was the extra star he was always looking for.

“(Y/N)!”

As soon as I watched his body slide out the door of the bar, I walked to him. I didn’t realize how far I walked until he started rambling.

“I’m sorry to put you on the spot but I couldn’t stop-”

My hand gripped the thin jacket material, not thinking twice and my lips smashed against his with force. He fell back slightly, his hand grabbing my wrist for a second before he was running them over my shoulder and down to my elbows. He pulled me closer if that was possible, and I let my hand touch over his heart.

The heart that wanted me, Reggie wanted me. There were girls who would wear his face on a shirt and he wanted the person that made those shirts.

I was his five stars, even if I loved him in every one-star and three-star establishment.

I felt myself pull away, our forehead resting on one another and I took a shaky breath.

“I’d give that kiss two stars.”

He smiled down at me, raising his eyebrows and letting his tongue run over the side of his cheek with a smirk.

“Give me ten minutes and I’ll make it five stars.”

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fictioninmyblood · 3 years

Text

Sacred Light

A/N: I have a hopeful heart so Erik is alive and redeemed. I also didn’t proofread cause I was trying to get all the thoughts out. Hope yawl like. Sidenote: life hit me like a runaway train literally the first day of this challenge so I’m mad behind now. Sorrrrryyyyyyyyy. I will write and post when I can.

Summary: When the Jabari rejoined Wakandan society, it would seem as if Bast was intent on keeping the tribes joined. M’Baku succeeds in capturing the heart and soul of Wakanda’s most sought after hidden light. Part storm, part flower, and some kind of wild woman, Qaqamba Bejide Achebe - Ramonda’s orphaned niece who grew up alongside the Udaku’s, yet as much out of the spotlight as possible - blooms under the affections of Hanuman’s chosen chief. There is a prophecy tied to the Achebe name - their daughters are said to be blessed by every goddess with a light and love like no other, something late King T’Chaka knew to be true - a prophecy that makes them as much of a target as their light shines. And she, is the last of their line with the gift, with the brightest light since the line began. Can M’Baku protect such a sacred light?

Warning: some violence, mentions of murder/death

Translations (via google translate):

nsọ ìhè - sacred light

umanyano oloyikayo - the sacred light union

It was the night of the joining festival, to commemorate the joining of both the Jabari and the Lost Tribes back into Wakandan society. N’Jadaka was out of rehab and somewhat integrating into his new home, having been pardoned from creating a civil war due to winning the Waterfall Duel which was his birthright. He stuck close to Shuri until M’baku arrived and Shuri ditched them both. Little did those two know, they would soon be walking into an ancient battle for the right of a sacred light.

------

Earlier:

A frightening chill ran through Qaqambe as soon as Queen Mother and King T’Challa declared the beginning of the ball of nations. He was here. The man from her nightmares.

“Shuri, get aunt Ramonda quickly. They’re here,” she practically screamed into her kimoyo beads.

------

10 years ago

“Please! She’s still a child, let her grow into her own like her sister did.” Qaqambe’s mother, Sade cried.

“She bleeds, that is growth enough for me to pluck my long awaited bud.” Adrian said.

“13 is not long enough! I beg of you, let me keep her for a little while longer! She deserves to be her own woman.” Sade said.

“Need I remind you of the outcome last time your family denied me my light?” he asked.

Sade vehemently shook her head and sobbed.

Adrian crouched down and spoke into Sade’s ear and said, “I have no quarrels getting rid of you to get to her. There is no one else left to keep her from me.”

Sade raised her head to look him in the eye and yelled her declaration, “That is what you think. She’s long gone and she will find her light keeper before you ever get the chance to lay a hand on her! You just wait, they will be the most formidable warrior on this continent, unwavering in their stand to be the shield of her light.” She laughed hysterically, scared of her certain death yet finding comfort in her dream of a fulfilled daughter with her destined to be.

Adrian stood up and sighed, straightening his unwavering cuffs.

“How unfortunate, I’d hoped to keep her from being orphaned…” he shrugged, “...have it your way.”

Adrian shot Sade in the head twice.

“Now you’re dead and I have to search all of creation for her. Such a pitiful sight, you could’ve been my mother had you ignored destiny and walked into the arms of fate. Now destiny’s got you dead.”

-------

Now:

Shuri rushed into her lab to find a frazzled Qaqambe pacing a hole into her floors.

“Mother is keeping an eye out at the party, if you stop your pacing you can help us find him much faster.” Shuri said.

“Find who?” N’Jadaka asked, startling both young women into head butting each other.

Shuri said, “Ow! Why are you sneaking around, cousin? Now you’ve caused not one, but two concussions at one of the most inopportune moments!”

N’Jadaka said, “It’s you who was sneaking around lil bit, we just followed you.”

“We?” Qaqambe asked as she locked eyes with M’Bkau, tilting her head back to take in his full glory as he and N’Jadaka walked up to Shuri’s station.

Suddenly, Qaqambe was no longer worried about her impending fate, for it seemed destiny had arrived in the nick of time.

“I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of such a rare gem,” M’Baku said as he grasped Qaqambe’s hand and kissed the back of it.

“I-” Qaqambe was out of breath and words, unable to stop her body from responding to what she could only assume was what her ma and aunt told her about power of light keepers. She felt as if an inferno was lit the moment his lips touched her hand and spread to her entire body.

“M’Baku, Qambe. Qambe, M’Baku. Introductions made. Cousin, take him back to the party, we have urgent business to discuss,” Shuri rushed out, trying to guide the boys back to oblivion and Qaqambe back to their task.

M’Baku easily escaped her hold and ended up in front of Qaqambe again. “Whatever it is that is troubling you, let me help. And don’t you dare try to lie, I can see your light dimming in the face of darkness”

Qaqambe looked to Shuri for help, but her gaze was just as quickly pulled back to M’Baku, like a magnet. “Aunt Ramonda made us promise not to tell anyone outside the Dora what’s happening.”

“It sounds like he already knows with that last declaration,” Shuri mumbled.

“Just trust that it’ll help not hurt to tell us little one,” M’Baku tried again.

“I can show you better than I can tell you and it’s getting hard to hold it all in anyway,” Qaqambe said.

“Qambe no!” Shuri yelled as Qaqambe rolled her neck, opened her arms, and let loose the reigns on her gift.

Suddenly, lights of various colors burst from her, like an aurora light show escaping from her every pore. When she looked into M’Baku’s eyes it was like a supernova was activated, Qaqambe’s light erupted in a large flash before dimming and folding back into herself.

M’Baku, in awe, whispered, “nsọ ìhè, it’s real.”

-------

Meanwhile, Adrian was 75% certain that his little light was here in Wakanda when he arrived for the festival. He had spent the last decade tracking down Sade’s twin sister, Monda, who had disappeared with her light keeper around the same time Sade did with hers. Using records from before his birth to track down that who did not wish to be found presented as damn near impossible. Damn near.

Turns out that she changed her first name and secured a different last name by marrying. Too bad she married a man who’s responsibilities would put her in the spotlight. Thanks to his father and uncle’s drawings as well as the news of a newly opened Wakanda, he found her and had all the info he needed to infiltrate the party. Qaqambe’s light show gave him the confirmation and motivation he needed.

Slipping from the party virtually unnoticed was easy enough. It was figuring out his way through these halls to find the source of that flash oc light that was going to prove difficult. There were Dora Milaje stationed at the end of every corridor.

He didn’t need to worry since being so close to snuffing out Qaqmbe’s light seemed to strengthen his opposing power of darkness. Adrian slipped past the Dora with ease, able to become one with the shadows of the halls, letting them lead him to Shuri’s lab.

-----

“Aye! Who the fuck are you and what you doing so far from the party?” N’Jadaka yelled at an instantaneously appeared Adrian. Shuri had notified Queen Ramonda and the Dora while putting on her gauntlets and then pointed them at the intruder while M’Baku gently eased Qambe behind him. N’Jadaka picked up Shuri’s nearby disc blades and took up a similar stance to Shuri.

Adrian smirked, breathing in the fear his sudden appearance created. “Ahhhhhhh, it has been a long time since I’ve smelled such purity ready to be stripped.”

M’Baku growled deep in chest, reacting instead of thinking.

“Why don’t you come on out from behind this beast? Don’t you want to get acquainted with your betrothed?” Adrian said.

“My late mother and aunt told me of the forced betrothal alliance! You have no real claim to me,” Qaqambe said with tears in her eyes and voice.

Adrian spoke an unknown language, opened his hand and clutched into a fist. Qaqambe fell to the floor holding her throat as if she was choking. He said, “you will come with me, or I will do that to those you love,” and then he released her to gasp for breath.

M’Baku dropped to his knees beside Qaqambe and held her close. “We will fight him for your freedom, do not worry about us, you won’t have to go with him. I swear by Hanuman’s name, he won’t get your light.”

N’Jadaka and Shuri took a step forward as well as the Dora Milaje that was easing up behind him, but Adrian repeated the mantra and motion. Everyone except M’Baku and Qaqambe fell to the floor gasping for air.

A flash of confusion and fear flitted across Adrian’s face, which was long enough for M’Baku to charge at him. His hold on everyone broke as soon as he made contact, tackling Adrian to the ground like linebacker was his job title. When he wrapped his arm around Adrian’s neck and held him in place by his legs, Adrian started to go limp unable to combat such pressure and force without the use of his powers.

Qaqambe couldn’t let M’Baku take on such a burden as taking a life, especially not on her behalf. “M’Baku, no! Let him live. Do not stoop to his level.”

He loosened his hold, but didn’t let go completely, knowing that someone as conniving as Adrian would take her kindness for weakness and try to use it against them.

“Well what shall we do with him then? I won’t give him another opportunity to harm you.” M’Baku said.

Queen Ramonda walked in with her guards on her tail. “We’ll take away his chances of claiming her. M’Baku?”

“Yes, Queen mother?” he responded.

“Would I be wrong to assume that you are familiar with umanyano oloyikayo?” she asked.

M’Baku said, “No you wouldn’t. And if your next question is whether or not I am willing to participate in it with your niece, the answer is that I would be honored to be her light keeper...” M’Baku locked eyes with Qambe, “...if she’ll have me?”

Ramonda looked to Qaqambe who couldn’t stop crying watching their exchange. She nodded her head vehemently.

Ramonda signaled the Dora and Ayo stepped forward to handcuff and neutralize Adrian, allowing M’Baku to release him and make his way back to Qambe. N’Jadaka and Shuri stood down when he was secure.

Ramonda said, “All you have to do is promise to be her light keeper in your heart and mind as well as out loud, like a prayer, and you seal it with a kiss to her forehead.”

Adrian struggled uselessly against his restraints and guards. “No! She’s mine!”

M’Baku barked his signature Jabari grunt, silencing the interloper. He pulled Qambe to him by her hands until they were flushed against one another. He enveloped her in his arms, resting his hands at the base of her back and rested his forehead against hers, both their eyes closing in recognition of the sanctity of their last minute coupling. Once he spoke the prayer internally and externally, he sealed the union just as Ramonda had instructed. Qaqambe’s head tilted back, letting loose a wail of beautiful pain. Her light burst from her third eye first before it poured from her mouth as well until she collapsed into M’Baku’s arms with her light dancing around her like an aura.

“What in the 5th element just happened?” N’Jadaka asked.

“Much more than you were ever supposed to see nephew,” Ramonda said as she linked her arms with Shuri and N’Jadaka.

“Is Be gonna be okay?” he asked.

Ramonda looked back to the new couple as M’Baku trailed behind the group, refusing to let his eyes leave Qambe’s face for too long.

Ramona smirked and said, “She’s going to be just fine now.”

#sacred light #m'baku x oc #m'baku x qaqambe #black panther fanfiction #tale teller's daily writing challenge #tale teller's daily writing challenge 2021

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toucheholland23 · 5 years

Text

Giggles and Gunshots

Winona(oc)x Gage fic

When sole asked if Winona wanted to go with them and nick to Nuka World she was too curious to say no. She heard about the place and only dreamed she could’ve been there when the park was still up and running, but seeing it now was fairly close.

Gage watched as the trio arrived at the transit center and laughed. A vault dweller, an old synth and some curly haired chick? They wouldn’t last a sec on the gauntlet, but what the hell, he needed to get rid of Coulter.

The detective was smart enough to not buy Harley’s bullshit but they decided to come anyways. He had to admit, they had balls.

They crossed the gauntlet using their abilities to disarm every trap, destroy every turret and kill anyone who threatened their life. Surely a dynamic trio.

The vaultie was the force, the detective the brains and the chick had the agility.

A good team.

When they arrived at the arena, the first one to look down at him and Coulter was the curly haired gal. The overboss catcalled her, making the other two turn their heads and send him a deep glare.

As for him, he thought she was pretty.

She had a fine body, and she was tall, like, REALLY tall. Not that it was a bad thing, on the contrary, he liked big women.

But she seemed like the person who was too nice for her own good, so that made her weak.

He told them that they should use the squirt gun and use their number advantage to place Coulter in a disadvantaged position.

They had a good plan. The curly haired girl distracted Coulter, dodging his attacks skillfully while the detective fired the squirt gun at him, leaving the vault dweller to fire at him with their laser machine gun.

They managed to take him down, proclaiming the vault dweller, as they were the one who took coulter down, the new overboss. Unfortunately one of Coulter’s hit made the chick stumble, making her fall, hitting her head hard against the floor. She was out cold.

As soon as they won the detective rushed to the gal and the vaultie picked her up, since they were stronger.

Gage led them quickly to the market, making their way though the place searching for Mackenzie.

When Winona finally opened her eyes, still feeling a bit disoriented and dizzy, it was a relief to everyone, mostly for the detective.

They spent the day telling her how the things on the park worked, the places Gage showed them and what responsibilities Sole had now that they were the overboss.

Sole considered passing the title to Winona, since she was a clever and ruthless woman. If someone could humanize the raiders, it was her. But she had a lot to loose, she had a child to take care of and having a bullseye on her back wasn’t exactly on her wish list.

Gage’s eyes widened at the mention of her being a mother. She was so young! He totally wouldn’t have expected that. The guy that got her pregged sure was a lucky bastard for getting a woman like that, he was almost jealous.

The trio stayed for almost a week in the park, they managed to take back the galactic zone in just two days and had a successful meeting with the gangs.

The gangs had their favorites of course. The pack absolutely LOVED Winona, mostly Mason witch gave her a suggestive look from time to time

They liked her for her ruthlessness and they surely didn’t want to be given orders by a minuteman or a synth.

Unfortunately, the vaultie had things to attend to in the commonwealth and something about a guy, Eddie something.

Of course Gage could’ve handled the park on his own, after all he’s done it a lot of times as right hand man, but Winona insisted on staying. He was confused. Didn’t she have a kid? Shouldn’t she be taking care of him right now? Fortunately she calmed his toughs, assuring him the kid was in the care of one of her close friends who also happened to be the mayor of goodneighbor.

So that’s how it went, the robot and the vaultie left, leaving Winona as the one in charge with Gage helping her with what he could as her second in command.

Winona always had a little stroll around the market every morning, greeting the raiders, merchants and slaves that she encountered along the way, much to Gage’s disliking. But overall she was a good leader, handled everything well, she always tries to satisfy everyone even if it means to do things she doesn’t really like and all, but made her position clear if anyone disrespected her.

Gage kept finding it weird that she always kept up a cheery demeanor everywhere she went or that she smiled sweetly at everyone and her politeness. He suspected that it was just a shell, that she would probably turn on them and pull up a cynical and horrifying bloodthirst all of a sudden, but he never knew.

Winona decided to keep clearing parks so she thought Safari Adventure was a great place to start, after all, how hard could it be? Gage obviously accompanied her, wouldn’t want the gal to get killed.

When they first arrived at the park they saw this dude fighting a weird kind of deathclaw. Gage wanted to just leave them be and watch how this turned up, but Winona obviously thought otherwise and, well, if boss says so then it’s done.

After they helped the guy kill the creature he started rambling about more of them attacking him and his family. This man talked funny but they made no comment on it.

Okay. What the hell.

So it turned out this guy was raised by gorillas.

That explains a lot.

But whatever, the three of them headed to the place Cito said the things emerged from and of course the found another one of those bitches.

Winona was lucky that Gage grabbed her in time, saving her of the claws of that thing as the other guy took it down.

The girl squirmed and giggled at the man’s touch, she was ticklish. The adorable chuckles of the gal made Gage feel funny on his gut for a sec before he brushed it off and released her.

They went into a weird place with glass panels covering holes on the wall that they later learned were a place where pre- war reptiles, like snakes and iguanas were kept so that the people could see them. Gage made a comment on how he kinda liked the idea of little not-so-mutated deathclaws as pets, witch made Winona giggle.

Passing the reptile’s section they found an old lab that turned out to be where those creatures, that they now learned were called “gatorclaws” were made.

So they shut down the machine and cleared out the rest of the park, going up the treehouse and placing the pack’s flag up the flagpole.

The woman took a minute to appreciate the view of the park from there, It was dawn so the sun going down really made the scenery look even more beautiful. As she looked at the horizon with a calmed look in her eyes, Gage caught himself staring at the beauty before him.

She was truly a work of art herself, better yet with the orange sunlight coating her tan skin and chestnut hair and making her ocean eyes shine in a beautiful way that made his cheeks grow a shade of pink

He was mesmerized by this woman, blinded by her beauty, hypnotized by her laugh, and he hated it. He hated how his face grew hotter and his stomach felt weird because of her. And the worst was that she probably had a husband waiting for her at home with their child.

But then again.

Why had she decided to stay?

He was still confused by that, so he couldn’t stop himself from asking her.

“Isn’t your child and husband waiting for you at home? Why have you decided to stay, boss?”

Her face seemed to darken at the question, looking at the side for a second before turning her head to meet his eyes. “I, um... i only have my son” , she responded with melancholy.

Shit, he fucked up.

Of course, that’s why she left her child with a friend, why she always felt uncomfortable by romantic advances on her. The guy wasn’t there. “Oh, shit sorry i-“

“Don’t bother. He isn’t dead, he abandoned me” ,she interrupted him, her look darkening even more. Perfect, he fucked up even more.

Gage was suddenly infuriated. How could that son of a bitch abandon his woman, pregnant with HIS child! To fend for herself!? The ‘wealth was dangerous and even tough he knew Winona was a tough girl, she was all alone.

He couldn’t imagine the hell she’d been though.

“Oh boss. Im sorry i brought it up, im an idiot” The woman looked at him and smiled sideways, taking ahold of his hand.

“It’s okay, i guess i needed to tell someone eventually...” she sniffled and kept on talking, “after some time, i had the luck of finding my cousin, Laura, and she led me to Goodneighbor.”

“She told me that there i could get proper medical attention and that i could have my baby safely. I was three months pregnant at the time by the way.” She chuckled dryly making the man furrow his brows.

“So there i met Nick and John. They helped me a lot though my pregnancy and while giving birth.” She smiled at the memory of the men she held so close to her heart. “When i first held Alexander in my arms, i knew i had to toughen up, I couldn’t keep crying myself to sleep because of that man. I had to do it for him”.

“But even so, the pain never truly goes away. Everyday he reminds me more of him and i just-“ tears started falling from her eyes like a waterfall. Gage froze, he wasn’t good at comforting people.

Despite his awkwardness and showing his pride aside, he wrapped his arms around her.

Winona was taken aback by the man’s actions, but then she started crying harder, hugging him back as she fell to the floor.

He never let go of her.

He knew what it was like to be betrayed by the ones you thought you could trust, to be backstabbed and then thrown away like garbage. She didn’t deserve that.

She was probably the kindest person he’s ever met and yet there was an asshole out there that just threw her out like if she was a broken ragdoll.

That piece of shit surely earned himself a place in Porter’s list

Still he held her as she cried in his shoulder, holding her as if she were made of glass, that started cracking with her every sob.

After a few minutes, her crying died down and she lifted her head from his shoulder, looking at him with puffy and red eyes.

He couldn’t stop the hand that separated itself from her back and wiped away a stray tear from the corner of her eye, making her giggle wholeheartedly.

The man let a small chuckle leave his mouth before he stared at her again, this time tough, she was staring right back at him.

Subconsciously they both started to get closer and closer before Winona got them out of their transe by yawning.

“You wouldn’t happen to be tired, right boss?” He said with a grin and raising his brow at her.

The woman was about to respond but was again interrupted by her yawning. Gage sighed, as he shook his head in a mocking way.

“There’s a sleeping sack over there, you take a rest and i’ll keep guard” he said graving her hand and leading her there to lay down.

As he was about to leave, Winona grabbed his arm, catching his attention. “Hey Gage?...” she said, tiredness clear on her voice. The man hummed at her in question.

“Thanks...”

And then she fell into the arms of tiredness, falling asleep.

#fallout #fallout 4 #my wriring #fallout 4 oc #winona hamilton #porter gage #nuka world #oc x canon

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thetoffeefox · 5 years

Text

It’s like no other pain I’ve ever known [Vergil X Nero’s Mother! Reader] Chapter 2: Will I recover that broken piece?

So I had no intention of posting anything for awhile because as per my update I explained I was taking a break for mental health but after a session with my psycologist she recommend I write out my feelings to deal with my greif of losing a loved one (since she knows I am write). Right now this fic is whole heartedly be propelled by my greif, however after this chapter it may be awhile before anything else is posted. If you like you can always support this fanfiction of AO3 HERE. I hope you guys enjoy this!

The title of this chapter is from the song The Other Side by Ruelle

Nero runs his hands through his hair yawning. This was the fifth night in a row, his father had left before dawn and most likely wouldn’t come back until midnight. He wasn’t sure what Vergil was doing, but it was concerning him. The most important thing him and Kyrie agreed upon was making sure Vergil would not distance himself from everyone. That is in able to successfully integrate him into the human world again was to have him form strong bonds with his family. Dante had assured him that his bond with Vergil couldn’t be stronger, but Nero had his doubts. Especially since spending a year in hell fighting one another wasn’t exactly a healthy way of bonding. Then again, what is a healthy way for half-demons to bond? It didn’t matter because Nero wasn’t going to bed until his father came through that door. Nero would not go to bed until he ripped his father a new one for not communicating with him like he made him swear to do. When both men showed up exhausted and in desperate need of a shower because of a year's worth of demon funk, sweat, and dirt the first thing he did was chewed them out for a solid hour and a half. That was before he broke down in tears, he tried his damndest to not show them but he just couldn’t hold it back anymore. The frustration and stress of learning that he had a family only to lose it within a couple of hours had been taking a toll on him. What he didn’t expect was for both his uncle and father to pull him into a tight hug. It was awkward as all get out in some ways because he was certain that both men had never shared such an intimate form of contact and had only been that close to one another when trying to kill each other. However, it was welcomed, and it was something he didn’t know he needed until it happened. Nero wasn’t stupid though because he knew most likely a moment like that would not happen again soon. The sound of the front door opening and close pulls him from his thoughts and a moment later he sees Vergil attempting to walk by the kitchen without so much of a word.

“Hello to you too, dad.” His tone even and calm, but Vergil can tell there's a bite to it. “You’ve missed dinner the past five nights now.”

“I’ll extend my apologies to Kyrie.” It was a simple statement one that made Nero click his tongue.

“An explanation wouldn’t be in there as well right?” His temper gets the best of him, he has to get that from his mother.

There are a lot of things he has inherited from his mother. Things that Vergil never dreamed of him having considering that he learned that Nero didn’t even spend a day with her. He looked like him through and through and even though he had the same ice-blue eyes; they held her spark. They held the determination that she had upon first meeting him and getting to know him. When Vergil was stubborn or cold, a flash of her stubbornness shined right back at him. Each time he saw that spark in his son's eyes just drove the dagger in his heart deeper and deeper. It made his guilt of leaving without her crash down on him tenfold. She said she would not be safe without him there. There was a part of him back then that he knew that but he didn’t care. All Vergil had cared about at the time more than Nero’s mother was his pursuit of power and the goal to be just as strong if not stronger than his father. Look where that left you… A voice in his head bites, reminding him that he didn’t just fail his son by not being there for him but failed him by making it where he didn’t even have his mother. It reminded him that he didn’t just fail Nero; he failed Charmaine, and he failed himself. Vergil is yanked out of his self-deprecation by Nero whirling him around to face him, once again he sees her in his eyes. “You’re not even listening to me, what the hell?!” His voice echoes in the kitchen and Vergil is certain it probably woke up a few people upstairs.

“I was looking for your mother.” He doesn’t know where it came from, he doesn’t know why he said it but he did and instantly he bites his tongue cursing at himself.

“You were...looking...for my mother?” The words coming out of Nero’s mouth are hard for him to digest, hard for him to believe.

Vergil’s nods and all Nero can do is shift his feet still trying to process what was just said to him. His mother...he had wondered about her when he was younger and those thoughts ended eventually when he began to believe the taunts and insults that his mother was nothing but a prostitute that didn’t want him. That she was a woman that held no love or regard for him. Someone who thought he was nothing but a mistake. Though this wasn’t the case, not if his father had been combing through every nook and cranny of Fortuna for five days straight. It left a strange taste in his mouth. To think that his mother was someone that had him out of love. What kind of woman had the ability to impress his father? What kind of woman would even be crazy enough to pay attention to him at that point in time? From what Dante and Lady had told Vergil was anything but approachable or likable around the time Nero would have been conceived and born. Yet his mother caught his attention. Nero takes a step back running his hands through his hair as the turmoil of old emotions flood in as old wounds open back up. Pulling out a chair Vergil sits at the kitchen table watching Nero somewhat pace and shift in deep thought and nervousness. God, he even had her ridiculous nervous tick of scratching at his nose. How he hated when she did that because normally it was because she had irritated him or caught herself saying something foolish to him. Now as he stared at Nero doing it he found it to be endearing. Unfortunately, his son’s actions made a ball of nervousness fester in him. Nero seemed more troubled and confused rather than what Vergil thought he would be at the mention of her. What in gods name did he end up conjuring in his mind and believing regarding her? What was he told? As far as Vergil knew based on what his daughter-in-law had told him was that Nero was at the most a few days old when he was dropped off here at this exact orphanage. He was swaddled and wrapped up in blanket black as night, which is where he had possibly got his name.

“You’re sure she...she isn’t…” Nero hesitates unable to finish his sentence in fear that his father hadn’t thought of such a possibility.

“That was the first thing I made certain of because she would have died before she would have willingly given you up. Your grandparents most likely took you from her.” There was a bitterness in his tone that was undeniable.

“Did you find them?” Nero asks somehow already knowing the answer.

“They’re dead and I don’t know of any other living relative.” Vergil states confirming Nero’s hunch.

Nero cursed under his breath before rubbing his nose again. No...don’t give up. He can't give up, if his father still had an inkling hope and based by the look in his eyes he did then he needs to fight too. He needs to fight not just for himself or his father but for her, his mother and HIS family. Right now though he needs rest and takes a few good minutes to convince Vergil to turn in for the night but he does so. Heading into his and Kyrie's room a smile pulls at him. She looked like an angel when she slept. Well, what he'd imagine an angel to look like, anyway. As Nero kicks off his boots and strips down to his boxers, he watches as she stirs from her sleep. His awakened demonic powers gave him more than just a power boost, he found seeing in the dark to be an easier task than before. In the dark, he makes out the curve of her lips, happy to see that he was coming to bed. The brightness of her eyes holding nothing but love and adoration that he sometimes (a lot of times) felt he didn't deserve. There was a question there as well though, one that was most likely based on worry and curiosity. Before she could form it into words Nero responds while sliding next to her. "Everything is fine, I'll tell you more about it in the morning." Luckily that seems to be enough for her because he didn't want to keep her up with the million questions running through his head right now that would most undoubtedly pop into hers. Wrapping his arms around her one of his hands mindlessly runs through her hair. His mother was alive? What was she like? She had to be someone great to put up with his dad. Maybe she was soft? Just like Kyrie… He almost snorts at that thought and shakes it out of his no she definitely couldn’t have been. Whoever she was though he would not stop searching for her. He and his father would find her, no matter what it took.

#devil may cry #devil may cry 5 spoilers #devil may cry 5 #post devil may cry 5 #vergil x reader #Vergil x Nero's mother #Nero

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todefine-istolimit · 5 years

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It Don’t Run in Our Blood- Chapter 4

Au: royalty

Rating: Mature

Ships: royality, dukexiety, loceit

Warnings: major character death (but not really), sympathetic dark sides

Summary: Roman is a prince in love with Patton, a commoner. Remus is a knight who has fallen in love with his trusted servant Virgil. Logan is the royal adviser who’s Love was lost at sea (But he’s not really dead. think princess bride here). Now the trouble is navigating laws, love, and social conventions, all while carrying around shiny swords! ((Title from Royals by Lorde))

If you prefer to read it on ao3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21602698/chapters/51510424

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: this is the epitome of fluff and angst, I’m almost sorry

They arrived at the small mansion in the woods that often served as a retreat for the royal family or their friends.

This was where Logan and Roman and Remus had first met. At the time Logan had been unaware of Roman and Remus being princes. He assumed they were at best they were the spoiled children of some nobleman and as such, had treated them in much the same way he treated the children of most noblemen, with disdain and annoyance.

They had taken a shine to his "abrasive" attitude and since then had considered him a good friend. Roman had even put in a good word for Logan when he was trying to get the job as the royal advisor.

They had spent their adolescence together in this house and spent many summer days accompanied by only maids and butlers as their respective parents had been too busy to join them. And today it was being used as a clandestine rendezvous point in which Roman could spend time with Patton without the prying eyes of the people or the council.

Remus and Virgil, quite ridiculously, hadn't spoken at all for the rest of the ride. This left Logan with another few hours to contemplate the fact that he would be spending the next three days playing the proverbial fifth wheel. There was a couple who was so hopelessly infatuated with each other that they shared a horse coming up, and another pair who were so clearly attracted to each other that they refused to talk to each other half the time and the other half they're insulting each other.

“Oh, joy,” Logan thought with an eye roll. He pressed his eyeglasses further up the bridge of his nose.

This would be... unpleasant to say the least.

Perhaps he could busy himself with some pointless activity such as looking for the rooms they had frequented as children. Yes, that would be a suitable activity until Remus and Virgil were ready to go hunting. There was always the room where he and the young princes had painted a mural of the stars.

Logan remembered laying out where each star should be and designing a paint that shimmered to an accurate extent. The princes had done the painting as Logan was not a fan of staining his clothes.

As soon as they got the horses stabled Logan started to walk away to search for which of the many rooms it was in. There were many hallways it was easy to forget one’s way.

Virgil was the only one who noticed him go at first, "Uh sir, where are you going?"

Roman stuck out his lip in a half pout, “Hey yeah Lo, where are you going?"

"I was... merely hoping to find the mural we made," Logan said feeling as if he needed to explain further but couldn’t really. He just felt an ache in his chest he would prefer not to explore. It was much easier to blame it on the higher elevation of the mansion in comparison with the seaside palace.

Roman frowned a moment, "Oh, okay... well... we'll see you?"

“Of course.”

~ sometime later~

Logan hovered outside the kitchen for a few moments. He smirked as he heard the others inside, cooking their own meal for once.

Well, actually, he supposed, this was a common occurrence for Patton and Virgil and it did sound like the two of them had pretty soundly taken control of the kitchen.

"No, no Roman honey you need to keep stirring this while I add the sugar. Don't worry when it's done it will be as sweet as you!"

Roman groaned, "Patton if you don't stop saying cute things I will physically die."

"Sire, " Virgil said frustration leaking into his tone, "Stop kicking the oven, we have bread in there."

A clang rang out, then Remus’s voice, "Hmm how bout I stop when you stop calling me sire? We aren’t at the palace, this isn’t work. You can use my name. Call me Remus just once that's all I ask until we're having unleavened bread.”

“Sir, I really don't think that's a good idea I think we should maintain some professional distance.”

Remus pleaded, lovesickness plain in his voice, “Just one time is all I ask. I don't want you to feel uncomfortable I just wanted to hear you say my name one time. Alright, I do want you to feel uncomfortable, just a little, it would be funny, but that's not my main goal! Come on we've known each other for a year now and you still can't manage to call me by name when there are absolutely no consequences!”

Logan entered the kitchen then. He wanted to see what people's facial expressions were like. He could feel the tension through the door.

They all turned to look at him, Roman spoke boisterously, “There you are! We've been waiting for you! Well, we started cooking so I guess we weren't waiting technically but we were going to call you when we finish that you could eat with us!”

Logan blinked in surprise, “Thank you for preparing dinner I thought we were going to each prepare something for ourselves.”

“Don't be silly! We’re all here together, why not help each other out?” Patton said with a smile on his face. Logan understood why Roman liked Patton so much. He was kind even to people who didn’t truly need it.

Logan, for example, had no reason to feel badly, he was rich, had friends, had a career he found fulfilling. He had no reason to feel empty and sad, not that he did, of course, but just as an example of a negative emotion. He had no need for Patton’s kindness and yet he gave it.

“Very well, thank you,” He spoke calmly despite the feeling that was still welling up inside his chest the feeling of simultaneously finally belonging and missing something important to you. He pushed it aside firmly as he did every day.

“Hey there, Lo, I’m trying to get Virgil to say my name. Could you tell him to do it? Maybe he'll listen to you.”

Logan exchanged glances with Virgil, Virgil’s eyes were pleading with him to let it drop.

Logan shrugged, “If he won't listen to a royal then who will he listen to?”

Virgil shot him a grateful glance and masked it quickly with a grin, “Sorry you're just going to have to bear my respect for a little longer, Sire.”

“Will you at least call me ‘idiot’ or something??” Remus begged.

“Brother dear, why are you so intent on being insulted or disrespected?” Roman asked strolling over and ruffling Remus’s hair. Remus smacked at the offending hand like an offended cat.

Logan sat down at the table to watch further exchanges such as this one it was all comfortable as if this was what they were always meant to do. The only thing distancing Logan from the other was the fact that he had no romantic interest here. Or anywhere for that matter. Logan had no one. He lost the only person he had ever felt that way for.

He resisted the urge to growl aloud at his looping thoughts.

Why was he thinking about that so much today?

Why couldn't he stop?

He needed to stop.

It was time for him to help Roman get through this difficult conversation anyway. That was a good distraction, taking care of Roman always had been.

They all settled down to eat (the bread was not edible but everything else was fine) and once everyone was comfortable Logan spoke, "Roman I think it's time for you to tell Patton our idea.”

“Logan,” Roman growled warningly, fury in his eyes. Based on his reaction he likely had been stalling on telling Patton why they had all come out here.

“What kind of idea?” Patton asked cheerfully, looking from Roman to Logan to the others and back. His smile falling as he saw the serious looks on Roman and Logan’s faces.

“It is regarding your current relationship,” Logan answered.

Patton's eyebrows drew together, “Roman, what is he talking about?”

“I had hoped to wait until a more opportune time,” Roman responded pointedly through gritted teeth, glaring at Logan, “but I suppose now is as good a time as any.”

He took a deep breath, “Patton you know I love you, but the council… it- it’s pressuring me to marry royalty and I'm afraid that if I don't give them what they wish they will take it out on you. That they will make sure that there's nothing standing in the way of a possible union between myself and the leader of another country.”

Patton looked hurt and confused, “What so we're just giving up? Roman that’s silly. We always knew that we had to be secret.” His hand had slid into his pocket and was clutching something there tensely.

“Prince Loudmouth didn’t seem to realize that,” Logan muttered. Remus giggled quietly next to him, the only one to hear what he said. They both knew Roman had a history of being bad at secret-keeping.

“I can’t let you risk getting hurt. I love you and so I must marry Prince Remington of Sobor.”

Patton’s face was full of shocked pain.

“Ohhh I liked him! He was my first kiss!” Remus exclaimed, breaking the tense quiet of the kitchen.

Roman shot him A Look.

"What?” Remus demanded, “It's not like I mentioned that time we fucked in his quarters after a treaty signing feast and I climbed out the window and fell into a thorn bush and walked with a limp for the next month because my legs were covered in cuts from the thorns."

They were all silent for a few moments, staring at Remus, but Virgil spoke first, "Sire, may I just respectfully say: what the fuck?"

Remus shrugged, "It was just a casual thing by the way. Not romantic, I'm single."

"O...kay?" Virgil said looking confused.

"Very smooth, " Roman rolled his eyes.

"Shut up!" Remus snapped, all pretense of nonchalance gone.

"I'm sorry Roman, but I need your attention, " Patton said, drawing all of their attention back to the matter at hand. Logan winced at the tears in the florist’s eyes.

"I'm sorry, that was a terrible place to stop speaking. All is not lost, my dearest, I had more to explain," Roman turned back to Patton, looking serious once more.

Logan rolled his eyes at the term of endearment, could they get anymore sickly sweet? Although Logan supposed he knew what they were feeling.

Stop.

Stop thinking of that.

He refocused.

"Prince Remington is in a situation like us. There is a man he's dating and rumor has it he is not too thrilled about having to marry me. So, when I sail to Sobor in a week's time I shall propose a marriage of convenience. We get married legally, but we each allow the other to maintain a relationship with the people we love. It would be a marriage only in name, you would still own my heart."

Remus giggled, "Wow, that phrase evokes all sorts of imagery, doesn't it? Like Patton holding Roman’s still-bleeding heart while he writhes on the floor in pain."

Virgil frowned looked thoughtful, "That's literally what's happening right now, though. I mean Patton has a hold on his majesty's heart and has all the control while he sits there in agonizing over whether he'll say yes or if he takes his heart and stomps on it."

Roman looked a little sick.

"Oh stomp on it that's another fun image! Blood everywhere! And think of the-"

"Okay that is quite enough, " Logan said cutting off the train of thought because it seemed as if those two were the perfect storm for stirring up Roman's anxieties.

Patton cleared his throat. They all turned to look at him.

Patton was now on one knee in front of Roman's chair. Holding a small box, which was presumably what he had been clutching in his pocket.

"Patton???" Roman said looking from side to side.

"Uh I was planning on doing this while we were here this weekend but well things have changed and the schedule has moved up. Roman, I think the sound of you being my husband has a nice ring to it, " Patton opened the box revealing a thin silver ring.

"Pat-"

"I know that it wouldn't be legal, but since it's just about how we feel about each other, I'd like to marry you here, tonight."

"I'd love to!" Roman flung himself into Patton's arms, tackling him to the floor.

They kissed for a few seconds before Roman broke away and said, "Wait tonight?!"

"I mean… yeah, if you're okay with it. We have our closest friends here. I mean, Virgil, I was going to ask you to be my best man anyway. You're like a brother to me."

Roman sat up, "No no, I’m okay with it! But I'm going to have to insist that we do this right. Remus come help me get ready I must look my best, you only get married once."

"Well two times I'm your case, " Remus pointed out with a smirk rising from the table.

"Virge, will you help me?" Patton asked turning to Virgil.

"Yeah, sure thing."

"Logan, did you find the room with the stars?" Roman asked seeming simultaneously excited and stressed as he could only be when planning an event.

"Yes I did, " Logan said. It, thankfully, hadn’t been painted over in the intervening years.

"Well, then that's where we'll do it! C’mon Lo I need your help too!"

Logan shook his head fondly but stood up. He reached down to give Patton some help up. He allowed everyone else to go ahead of them, leaving the kitchen.

"Well Patton, you'll be joining the royal family however unofficially it may be,” Logan didn’t release Patton’s hand yet

"Uh, I guess so?" Patton said looking nervous. This was the first time he and Logan had spoken alone outside of a professional setting.

"We’ve done business for a few years so I trust you. But it's necessary to tell you that while I am merely an advisor, my first duty is to protect the crown, and more importantly, to protect Roman. This includes threats to his emotional health. You understand?" Logan asked lacing his voice with all sorts of underlying threats.

Patton nodded solemnly, "Thank you. I wouldn't want you to do anything less."

Logan nodded and allowed a small smile, "Good answer. In that case, welcome to the family."

~Two Hours Later~

Logan stood in front of the large window in the star room through which they could see the real stars.

Two dozen candles outlined a path from the door to this makeshift marriage altar. Logan eyed the various fire hazards nervously, as did Virgil, but Patton, in his slightly worn dress clothes looked as if he was unaware of all of it.

Everything was in place, so Logan picked up the violin he had found in the music room and began playing the first romantic tune he could think of. It was soft and sweet and perfectly appropriate for a wedding. He quickly regretted it as he realized what song it was.

He had taught it to Logan and whenever Logan played it He would sing slow sad words in a language Logan never learned.

Logan frustratedly pushed those thoughts from his mind as Roman appeared in the doorway wearing his finest attire. Remus trailed after him holding his cape out of the flames. Roman was bathed in golden light and was grinning happily. Logan was acutely aware of how this was a ridiculous amount of pageantry for so small a group, but it made Roman happy, so they were all willing to suffer through.

Roman arrived at the altar and Remus took his place beside him. Logan set aside the violin and spoke.

“We few gathered here tonight,” He began quietly because they were all standing very near each other, “Are gathered in the name of freedom. Here in this house we five are equal in station, in wealth, in worth. All that we have we share equally and every right we have, we have in equal measure. Which is why tonight Patton and Roman will be joined in marriage tonight.”

Remus had helped him with the words. Although Logan had to remove several very graphic lines about how we all bleed the same blood.

“Do you have vows or should I attempt to remember the traditional ones?”

“I have vows!” Patton said excitedly.

“Then go right ahead,” Logan gestured for him to speak.

“Roman, I can’t lie to you, I’ve had a crush on you since I was just a kid. You probably don’t remember it but there was this parade and you were riding through town and you road right past my father’s shop. And my dad had made four bouquets. One for each member of your family and sent me to keep up with the carriage to give you each one. Your mother and father thanked me and set them on the seat beside them, your brother grinned at me and ate a flower, which was… weird, but you just took them, thanked me, and kissed my hand. I thought I died.”

“I went back to Virgil and my dad and watched the rest of the parade with a big dopey grin on my face. Virgil picked on me for a week,” Patton chuckled, “I thought I was over it when I started bringing flowers to the palace. Then you strode into the dining room where I was arranging flowers, singing… I never had a chance. You’ve always been like a fresh breeze for me Roman. Refreshing even from far off."

Virgil definitely helped him with that last line. Patton was sweet but not much for metaphors.

Logan looked back at Roman and saw the prince was a mess of tears and running make up. Logan rolled his eyes fondly and passed him his handkerchief.

"Your majesty do you have anything to say?"

"Yes, I do!" Roman said dabbing at his tears.

He took a breath and began, clearly flustered, "Okay honestly I don't remember a single thing I was gonna say the was something about eyes like stars and whatever but honestly Patton you're just... you and that is so wonderful! Like... look at you! Goodness gracious I don't know why you looked twice at me."

Oh, dear Roman was getting teary again, but this time it was less happy, "I don't know why your willing to risk so much for us when you could have a good life with someone who could be married to you publicly and I'm so sorry that that isn't me but I am so glad you're willing to marry me and let me tell you if I ever get the chance I will rewrite any law I have to for you to be my husband legally."

Patton stepped forward and wrapped the sobbing Roman in a hug, "Baby, there is no need to get upset. I'm happy to be marrying you, even like this, I swear."

"It's not too late! Virgil and you can ride back to town, I'll send jewels to your family, you'd never have to work again and you can marry someone else and- and- you can be happy and I'll leave you alone and- if you ever need more money just send a note and I'll take care y- you, " Roman hiccuped. Patton shook his head and gave Logan a look like "Can you believe this idiot?"

"Roman you look at me right now, " Patton said firmly, Roman looked up.

He was a mess make up ruined beyond recognition, face blotchy from his sudden breakdown. Logan exchanged a look with Virgil and Remus who both seemed to find this mildly amusing. Probably because they knew as well as Logan did that Patton would never take Roman up on that offer.

Patton held Roman's chin up so he couldn't look away, "Roman, I don't want your money, I don't want a life without you, and I don't want to marry anyone except you. You can't get rid of me that easily. Okay?"

Roman looked doubtful, "Are you sure?"

"Nope, I'm Patton, but I definitely want to marry you. Okay?" Patton grinned, making a joke.

Roman sniffled and smiled a little, "Okay."

"In uh that case you two can�� kiss now?" Logan said uncertainly, glancing at Remus and Virgil. They nodded.

"Yes. Okay, go ahead and kiss now."

And they did.

"Great!" Remus said with a grin, "Now let's celebrate!"

Tag list: @i-have-n0-idea-what-im-d0ing @melodiread @itismakyo @dabookwormcat @lo-ceit @gayformlessblob @ollyollyoxinfree @gay--insomniac

#royalty au #royality #dukexiety #loceit #sander sides #My writing

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nekoabiwrites · 5 years

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Of Princes and Potions - Chapter 10

We’re getting there. Slowly, but surely, we’re getting there... Also, haha I’m a slut for descriptions of rooms :)

AU: Royal/Fantasy Pairing: Pining Logince Words: 1880 Warnings: Implied death. Anything else, please let me know!

Summary: Roman goes to talk to his father about a new thing he wants to add to his ball, but he is instead left alone in the office for a while. Roman’s curiosity cannot be satiated and he just can’t leave the open letter on the desk alone.

---

Despite the day of his ball fast approaching, Roman couldn’t help but find himself a little distracted by what had happened with the mage when he’d crashed into him. Roman had expected his usual response of a dismissive yet somehow still interested glare and deadpan retort to his flirting, so when he’d seen tears rolling down from his gorgeous dark eyes, his heart had ached. And then when he ran so fast, Roman couldn’t help but want to give chase. However, he left him be and now the prince hadn’t seen even a whisper of the man since.

Roman huffed and shook his head to clear his thoughts yet again. He needed to focus on the ball, everything just had to be absolutely perfect. So, he held his head high and made his way to the ballroom to see how the decorations were coming along.

Any regular citizen may have been floored to enter the grand room, but Roman just stalked in without a care. He was used to the tall walls that were intricately decorated with golden additions. His eyes swept around the room, taking in the decorations he’d specifically requested for his ball.

Ribbon-like decorations wound around each pillar that ran down both sides of the room and were, of course, in his signature red. More of the same spiralled out in a perfectly spaced pattern from the impressive chandelier that hung in the centre of the room, each of the red strips reaching out to the outer wall and attached there with a fantastically ornate bow that sparkled with every step Roman took. The curtains that hung around each of the windows and doors that looked out over the castle grounds had been replaced with red ones, which were a deeper shade than the ribbon in order to allow it to stand out. Tables were currently being set up in precise locations that Roman had specified and were yet to have any decorative aspects placed upon them, but the crown prince could easily envision the gorgeous flower arrangements he’d created that were going to act as the centre pieces of each table.

As he looked around, Roman felt like there was something missing. He couldn’t quite put his finger on what it was, so he instead wandered around the room to see if a different perspective on the situation would help. Throughout the room, more decorative elements jumped out at him, as their gold colouring sparkled and shined brightly. His attention turned to the stairs where he would make his grand entrance.

The most luxurious red carpet had been professional placed all the way down them on both sides and beautiful twinkling lights littered the bannisters, which would allow for the perfect entrance. Along with the easily procured spotlight from a local, trusted inventor that was currently being set up on the other end of the room, Roman searched around the stairs to make sure that the potions Logan had provided for them were in place. He was told that the potions would provide perfect safe bursts of colourful light that would not harm him, the guests, the staff or the ballroom in anyway and would not produce any heat as well. Roman was far too excited to get to his dress rehearsal and see how they looked, as he could only imagine the beauty that Logan could cram into such a small bottle.

Roman was ecstatic with what he had seen so far, so he turned and surveyed the ballroom once more. Then, as if a flash of inspiration hit him, the prince noticed what was missing. He’d not planned a single thing for the entrance way and that would have turned his ball into an utter sham if he’d not noticed it. Roman quickly stalked his way out of the ballroom and towards his father’s office.

“I just realised something that needs to be fixed immediately!” Roman proclaimed loudly as he burst through the door of the office. It was when he was met with no response that he finally noticed the room was empty. The prince pouted and was about to walk away in order to return later, when he caught the sight of an open letter on the desk. Clearly his father had been in here not too long ago. “I’ll just wait inside for him to return. He can’t be too long.”

With that, Roman sat himself in one of the chairs facing the desk and waited oh so patiently for the king to return. And by patiently, that means he sat still for just a little over 10 minutes before he got bored and stood to wander around the room.

Roman hadn’t been in his father’s study for an extended period of time alone in a long while. He recalled times where he used to come and use the room as a hiding place during games of hide and seek. It brought a gentle smile to his lips, those memories coming flooding back as he caught sight of the picture that always sat on his father’s desk. Just a simple family picture of them all; his father, his mother, him… All but Thomas, as he was not yet born.

The sudden intrusion of the thought of his young brother caused Roman’s smile to drop. He still couldn’t shake the bias he had against his optimistic and smiley younger brother, yet he wished he could throw away the blame he once held against him. There had been extensive checks done upon both of them at the time and everyone had said the young boy had nothing to do with it, yet Roman still felt like he had to blame someone – and Thomas was his only option at the time.

Roman sighed and turned away from the desk, preferring to glance over all the books that sat in the shelves beside his father’s desk. His finger traced a couple of the titles, wondering if Patton had ever actually read the books or if they were just stored here from previous kings.

“Ugh. What is taking him so long?” Roman groaned, rolling his head towards the door. He paused for a second, almost hoping his question would be answered by the door happening to open, but nothing happened. The prince decided to take the large, plush chair that sat behind the desk, resting his feet up on top of the wooden surface.

The letter that had previously caught his attention was now directly before him and Roman’s curiosity gnawed at his mind. Surely his father wouldn’t leave anything extremely confidential around so carelessly, it wouldn’t be too bad if he took just one little peek.

Before he even knew it, Roman held the letter in his hands. He began to skim it, but as he caught different words, he ended up going and reading it thoroughly. Roman softly read the worlds aloud under his breath as he went.

“We hope this finds you well.

We are Lord and Lady Raussier of the Noble Court of Eastfront. We are delighted to hear of the Crown Prince’s coming of age and to receive an invitation for our children to attend the celebratory ball. As per the invitation, our daughters Dahlia and Valerie will be in attendance.

In return for the Crown Prince choosing one of our children, we offer…”

Roman’s voice trailed into silence as he read the list of offerings. It didn’t quite make sense to him, why would nobles be offering him or his father anything? Especially in return for him ‘choosing one of their children’? The letter only got worse at the end.

“We hope his is all sufficient and that it is enough to satisfy. We hold hopes that the Crown Prince will choose one of our children.

Regards.”

The letter ended in a flourishing signature that was barely legible.

Roman placed the letter back onto the desk, face down just as he’d found it, before wracking his brain. He was utterly astounded that nobles like that were offering the king anything. What good would that do? Roman would have never even known about any of it as the letter was with his father and not shown to him, not that it would have made a single difference to his decision on his choice of partner at the end of the day. It was especially confusing as Valerie had always been a close friend of his, so why would her parents send anything along to attempt to pair her off with him?

The prince shrugged and shook his head, “Oh well,” He said to himself, breaking the silence of the room, “It’s not like anyone else would…” He stopped short as his eyes landed on the bottom drawer of the desk which was slightly ajar. From the brief view he was able to have, Roman could pick out the edge of an envelope.

He warred with himself for a moment, but ultimately, his curiosity won and Roman reached down to slide open the drawer even further. This gave him a much better look at the pile of filled envelopes that were stacked inside.

Roman spent a few minutes pulling out and reading a few of them. He began to feel nausea coursing through him as he noticed the pattern that each letter followed.

Each of them had extremely similar wording, all of them avoided naming him and only referred to him by his title, they all offered similar things in return for Roman choosing their child, all of them were so impersonal. It was almost like one of Thomas’ fill in the blank puzzles he enjoyed messing around with, just on a larger scale. As quick as he’d taken them out, Roman shoved all the letters back in though he couldn’t ignore the fact the drawer was almost full of the thick envelopes.

The crown prince huffed, putting up a front for no one in particular. His arms folded across his chest and he leant back in the chair, “At least they’re all interested in me. They know I am truly worth all they could offer and that I would be the most perfect one for any of them to marry, even if it is impossible for a lot of them.” Roman flicked his head to push his hair back into place, preening at the sudden thought that came to his mind, “All eyes are to be on me for my ball, and all these letters just prove it’ll happen tenfold. It is going to be perfect.”

Roman stood and brushed out the few wrinkles in his outfit, “Well, there’s no use in just sitting around in here, waiting. I’ll just leave a note asking Father to find me later and then I shall go and plan.”

Without thinking, Roman grabbed the nearby quill and scratched out a short message on the back of the letter that lay down on the desk. He placed it back and almost floated out of the room, his already boosted ego inflated further by the twist he’d put on those disgusting communications. Though, in the back of his mind, the image of another pile of several more of those letters yet to be opened lingered, almost as if it were an omen of things to come.

---

Previous Chapter – Next Chapter

My other stuff: http://nekoabi.tumblr.com/myworks Mobile Accessible Masterlist: http://nekoabi.tumblr.com/post/181954641376/fic-masterlist

General Tag List: @not-so-innocent-bi-sander @didsomeonesayprince@llamaly@justanotherpurplebutterfly @iaminmultiplefandoms @ultimate-queen-of-fandoms2@lowkeyvirgilobsessed @louisthewarlock @fangsandrainbows @xxladystarlightxx@sleepyssnail@ao-koshka @notalwaysthevillian @pumpkinminette @doces-e--tuga @coloursintheblur@safesandersides

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#Sanders Sides #Fanfiction #Logince #Roman Sanders #Logan Sanders #Patton Sanders #Creativity Sanders #Logic Sanders #Morality Sanders #Royal AU #Fantasy AU #Of Princes and Potions

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sleep-writing-blog · 6 years

Text

Sky.

FRANSWEEK 2019 - Day 4: Sky

A/N: This was alternatively titled as “a sky full of stars (yet you shine brighter)”. With this, the arc is coming to a close. Also, this was late??? //sweats// At first I went “how tf do you write this?? I have no ideas coming to me at all??? What.” and then I slept straight the moment I had my dinner. I’m,,, sorry.

Words: 1270

Warnings: Slight spoilers, canon-divergent, OOC Sans?? Damn it :^)

— ✦ ✧✦✧ ✦ —

Sans was content where he was. Everything was perfect the way it was. No resets. That’s all he could’ve asked for. In return, he respected Frisks’ questionable decisions. Like, say, to stay in the Underground, or to ask each monster what they secretly hoped for in the future. It didn’t matter much because what mattered most (to him) was that the never-ending loop of a nightmare had ended ages ago. All the past mess was history and he could finally let up a little, which led to him having more time with his thoughts.

It led to Sans finding himself wishing for something more than what he had.

It was a dangerous thought, to say the least, but he couldn’t help but let his train of thought go on a wild ride. He was teeming with questions, but only one stuck to him the most, and there was only one who knew the answer.

“what do real stars look like?”

— ✦ ✧✦✧ ✦ —

He had asked Frisk one day during a casual stroll. He had heard stories from Frisk about the surface, but never once did Frisk tell them about the stars. Frisk stopped, arms crossed and deep in thought, and they looked up at him. Sans had caught a brief flash of determination in their eyes that day and they gave a vague answer. Sans knew there was more to it and would pester them with the same question at any given chance, and they would compare it with the faux-night the Waterfall gave.

“It’s like the crystals, reflecting light on the ceiling.”

“Nothing much. They’re just dots.”

“They look like glitter.”

Each and every response left him with a disappointed sigh and a resigned smile that promised that he would ask them again later, but the nagging feeling was too much to bear. It left a bad taste in his SOUL and him in a foul mood. So, he found himself retaliate with a low voice after Frisk answered in the same way like all the previous times.

“that’s fine. we’re not leaving this place anyways.”

He considered himself lucky that Frisk had taken it in stride and had known that he hadn’t meant to sound mildly abrasive.

“It’s easy to describe, but I can’t tell you how it really feels.” They told him. “Experiencing is different from knowing... but I can tell you that the stars twinkle at night. They aren’t always white; they sparkle blue and gold sometimes. They come in clusters or in units. Sometimes they aren’t there at all.”

Ever since that day, he had tried to imagine how it’d took like to the best of his ability, but he would only see the crystals reflect light. It was difficult to imagine, since they were underground, and the concept was all wrong when he told Frisk how he thought the stars would look like. They would react with a soft chuckle and correct his perspective.

“You know, Sans, you remind me of the stars.” A look of confusion settled on his face.

“i’m a flaming hot ball of gas that radiates energy? i’m flattered that you think that i’m hot but i’m made of bones. Paps is the one with the energy.” Frisk snorted.

“No! It’s just...” They trailed off. “Nevermind.”

“hey, that isn’t fair. you have to tell me. i want to know what you’re about to say.”

“Maybe later? It’s embarrassing to say it.”

“you’d better or i’ll make you say it sooner or later.” Frisk grinned.

This went on for a while until Sans wasn’t able to find them.

He berated himself for not acting sooner. During the times they hung out together, Frisk hadn’t been physically there because a look into their tired faraway eyes told him everything. Once, he found them staring off into space while their nice cream melted, but he had shrugged it off, and thought that they didn’t have enough sleep like him when they were–

Right.

He was supposed to be looking for Frisk, not reminisce about their cuddle sessions after a bad nightmare. He tried going to their favourite places, calling them, shouting their name in empty areas but he was always met with silence and a dashed hope. He enlisted help from his friends but the search was still ongoing. The Underground was a small area and there wasn’t much places for Frisk to go to.

Amid the dizzying maelstrom of emotions, he vaguely remembered taking a shortcut to the Judgement Hall, where he staggered, the violent journey through the Void left him winded. It was dangerous to travel in an unstable state when he didn’t have a clear image of where he was going. He could’ve gotten lost in the Void and never come back. That was the last thing that he wanted. He thanked his lucky stars that the consequence he only had to face this time was exhaustion and disorientation.

Then he saw a lone bracelet on the ground.

He lunged for it. It was what Sans gave Frisk to ground themselves after a bad ordeal when Sans wasn’t there, though its’ job extended further than that. They would remove and fiddle with it when they got anxious or got bored. The only conclusion Sans gathered was that Frisk had passed through and must’ve dropped it in a hurry. It meant they were heading for Asgore and the Barrier. A thundering of footsteps approached him.

“BROTHER, WE HAVE NO TIME TO LOSE.” Sans was picked up by Papyrus and he dashed off deeper into the hall. “WE THINK FRISK IS WITH ASGORE.”

‘oh kid, don’t tell me you’re planning to break the barrier with your soul.’

They burst through the gates to see everyone surrounding Frisk, who was wearing a red locket. Frisk spotted them immediately. Papyrus set him down to let him stand.

“frisk, you gave me a SOUL-attack when we couldn’t find you.”

He started to approach them, only to get snatched up by a large vine. Oh, did it hurt. The pain was blinding, it almost knocked Sans off. Through his hazy consciousness, a tiny yellow flower popped up from the ground, ranting off about how it was Frisks’ fault for making all of the Underground love them before initiating a FIGHT with them, filling the space with white light.

The next thing he knew, he was standing in front of the prettiest view he had ever seen. Frisk was right. It was beyond everything Sans could imagine. The sky reached far out; there were no walls that marked the end of it. The night sky was sprinkled with stars of varying brightness. He had no clue how long they were standing there until the sky started to turn lighter and hues of colour came to play out in slow motion, the sun peeking over the horizon.

It was more than what the Underground could possibly offer.

“I wanted to surprise you,” Sans took his eyes off the changing sky to see Frisk watching him. “You sounded so interested with them. So, I went to break the barrier to show you the stars, then you could see why you reminded me of them.”

Sans felt his SOUL flare with an indescribable emotion. “I know that monster souls are made of love, hope and compassion, but you’re a special case. I think you’re also made up of stardust.” Frisks’ honey-coloured eyes sparkled under the rays of dawn, a soft smile gracing their features, and they were positively glowing when they’re looking at him like he’s their–

“Because even with a sky full of stars, you shine the brightest among them all.”

#frans #frans week #fransweek #fransweek 2019 #frisk x sans #sleepywrites #i hope a 1k+ fic makes up for being late #frisk is the g.o.a.t. bc she pulled a fast one over everyone esp the skelebae #everyone feared the worst wihle Frisk was like OPEN SESAME #also I tried my best to deliver a Soft #i dont know if it worked

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okimargarvez · 6 years

Text

UNCONDITIONED REFLEX

Original title: Riflesso incondizionato (come uno starnuto)

Prompt: 14x15 if there were been Luke and Penelope in the place of JJ and Reid.

Warning: none.

Genre: angst, romantic, comedy, family.

Characters: Penelope Garcia, Luke Alvez, Emily Prentiss, David Rossi, O.C. (unsub).

Pairing: Garvez.

Note: oneshot 48 in Garvez collection.

Legend: 💏🔦🎈.

Song mentioned: 10 mila scuse: Interludio, Tiziano Ferro.

GARVEZ STORIES

UNCONDITIONED REFLEX

-Garcia, but are you still here?- the voice behind her makes her jump and fright causes her an uncontrolled cough. She remains turned away from the intruder who dared to set foot in her personal temple until she can calm herself down enough to be able to formulate at least one meaningful sentence.

-Yes, why should not I?- then she exclaims, showing herself determined and convinced, as well as distant and superior, as if she didn’t have time to take care of him. -I have things to finish.- she adds with the same stiff tone. -And I could ask you the same, you know?- she points out to him, while a pleased smile borns against her lips. The man remains silent and this convinces her to be on the right path to get rid of him. -At least I don’t have a girlfriend waiting for me anxious at home, but only a cat.- still silence from the invader. -Poor Lisa, I don’t know how she could bear you...- the joke dies in the bud when she sees change in the expression of his colleague.

Luke runs a sad smile and scratches his head, in a gesture that she has now learned to interpret as a manifestation of extreme uncertainty. -In fact, she didn’t.- he says simply, in a tone not too pained, neither joking, rather... neutral.

For the first time since he entered the bat-cave the woman really looks at him, from being human to being human. -What do you mean?- she squints, trying to catch any signs that will make her identify a possible lie.

Luke, however, doesn’t seem to have any intention, in fact, seems simply exhausted, as if he was fresh from a marathon or as if he had just finished chasing an unsub along the steep peaks of a mountain. -She broken with me.- he shrugs and manages to reject a principle of hysterical giggle. -Before you start with a monologue to weave her praises and to demolish me...- she looks at him as offended by his accusation, but he ignores her -It had to go like this. With this job... but I don’t even know if it's just the fault of the job or just mine.- he raises his shoulders again; Penelope can’t remember the last time she saw him so confused, in which he didn’t clearly articulate a concept. Although she has spent at least a year, first Luke's year in the BAU, to demolish him, she has never denied within herself his numerous capabilities as a federal agent. -Anyway, it went like this.- he adds, perhaps only to fill the emptiness of that silence caused by the reflections of the blonde in front of him.

Which changes completely attitude, feeling a strong pain in the chest and another, a little less strong, in the lungs. -Oh, Luke, I didn’t want to hurt you, I'm sorry if I have...- he raises a hand, as that time when he had asked her to give him five in the name of the dynamic duo, and at the same time she coughs so many times, silencing any possible delirium of tangled excuses.

-It's all right, Garcia, okay?- she nods, although she doesn’t seem particularly convinced. -Let's talk about your influence.- it's the man's turn to completely change his attitude. It vanishes that insecure and fragile air that had almost moved her and suddenly he seems so convinced and determined. For a moment she can’t replicate anything. Then, suddenly like the rest, indignation emerges.

-I don’t have the influence.- she says, turning her back, aware of her red nose, by dint of blowing it all evening, when she wasn’t in connection with the team, of course, and eyes shining. -I'm... I'm fine!- she hears the echo of her own voice that says to him that same sentence, just as liar then as today. -You can also go to your house to... Roxy.- she corrects herself at the last. She feels the steps of man approaching and manages to remain perfectly still.

He puts a hand on her shoulder and does nothing else, but she turns to him, as if he had pressed the right button, had typed the correct sequence. -No offense, Garcia, but I know how you look when you're okay and now... it's not one of those times.- it's just a fleeting impression, and yet, for a second, she thinks she has reading malice in his brown eyes, which she had always believed much darker, while now, which she is so close to him, sick and with defenses (not only immune) so low, can capture all the various nuances of his irises.

She takes a while to awaken from the spell. A good cough intervenes in her defense, this time single but harsh and dry. -Alvez, how dare you say such a thing?- she prays all the gods in the celestial spheres that her cheeks haven’t become the same shade of her nose. I... I... achoo!- and then here is making its cameo a sneeze, probably jelaous for the space that had won the colleague.

Luke makes no effort to disguise his complacency. -Bless you.- he tells her, politely, and for a moment she sees a version of her colleague at the time of high school, perfectly combed hair, good clothes, his mother who repeats the same recommendations, in the churchyard. -So, still convinced of your position?- he asks her with obvious amusement as he torments her.

-Obviously.- she replies, this time promptly, turning back and returning to take care of her work, typing with the left hand while the right is struggling in the search for the lost handkerchief.

-Ok.- she hears him reply, only those two letters, a syllable, and the thing should already be suspicious. But even in her most daring dreams she could never have imagined him endowed with so much courage. The man walks around her chair and overlaps his hands with that of the blonde, quickly pressing just two buttons, activating the forced shutdown of the whole system, that a second before starting sets in motion the automatic saving of all the last actions. Penelope opens her eyes, freeing two tears that perfectly brush her face until they reach the chin before the final jump. She also opens her mouth wide, but nothing comes out for a moment.

Then, the voice returns to her. -What did you do?- she shouts, congratulating those who decided to build her bunker completely soundproof. -Are you crazy? Have you lost your mind?- she asks him, leaning with the intention of grabbing him by the shoulders and shaking him, but the other part of her can’t even take the idea of touching him into account.

-Unfortunately, good manners don’t work with you.- Luke replies simply, with that condescending tone that is used with madmen, children with attention deficit and animals that are considered stupid. -And now, c’mon, take your stuff, I'll take you to your house.- she doesn’t know if she's more mad with him for interrupting her work (and who could imagine that he knew that sequence?), for having accused her of be stubborn and want to be right at all costs, or for this last sentence, expressed in tone too natural and spontaneous, as if he were her boyfriend and had the right to tell her what is best for her.

-But... but... but...- for this she can’t do anything but repeat like a broken record the same word that perfectly expresses all her unease and her uncertainty. Man doesn’t seem to have pity for her at all. Taking her by the shoulders, again as if it were the most natural thing in the world, he forces her to rise from her chair.

-You, hurry up.- and Penelope almost ends up on the ground, looking for a way to get away from him. But at the same time a thought starts turning in her head. How sexy is he when he plays the authoritarian role...? Why did I think such a thing? It's wrong. He sees me as a friend, nothing more. He would do the same thing with Tara. -Do you need a hand to wear the coat?- she observes his hands towards her like the claws of a bird of prey ready to grasp her and take her to his nest.

-NO.- she says, a bit too strong and with a look and attitude in general too terrified. She forces herself to slow down the beats of the heart and calm the breath, but this costs her another cough.- No, no.- she repeats, more satisfied with the result. -I can do it.- it’s unclear how her legs hold up her just enough to reach the hanger that is so lopsided that Kate gave her so many years ago that she almost can’t believe it's been so long. -Are you happy now?- is a rhetorical question, and in fact she doesn’t wait for a reply, grabs the bag and starts out.

-Quite.- she still hears him exclaim. As soon as Luke is out of her bunker, she types the security code to block access to unauthorized people, everyone except she, Prentiss, and anyone above the head of the BAU. -Penelope?- she warns the man's gaze over her body as if it were tangible.

-What?- she sighs, focusing on the last digits. It never happened to her to do it wrong.

-Are you sure you can handle it, alone at home?- a slight hesitation, just as she completes the operation and starts walking towards the elevator. Another feeling of deja-vu, and she can’t make fun of herself to the point of saying that she doesn’t know what it refers to, what exact moment actually happened between them. -Because I could...- she anticipates him, pressing the call button and this surprises him so much that he is silenced.

-No, no.- she shakes her head, wrong choice: for a moment everything goes around her as if she were on a carousel. -I'll have a hot tea, I'll take an aspirin and I'll go to bed right away.- she list diligently. -Okay, daddy?- she repents instantly of the last joke, but she just can’t help it. In the meantime, the elevator arrives, empty.

-A new nickname?- he asks her, but is probably not talking to her as anyone else. -It's a bit too weird even for you.- he gives her one of his ultra-malicious looks and this time paralyzes her, and the blame is all her weakness. When she manages to free herself from that spell, the price she is forced to pay is another fine series of perfectly alternating coughing and sneezing, like in a monotone symphony. -All right?- she can deny how much she wants, but he's really worried about her, about her health. But this doesn’t mean anything, and she repeats it until she believes it.

-Stop to worry about me, Alvez.- she says, looking at him for a second, she can’t allow herself any more, otherwise she might catch in his net again. -My head is spinning a little.- she admits, because she actually fears to skid against the elevator walls. But Luke doesn’t take the opportunity to make a joke or reiterate how he was right.

-C’mon, it is better if you hold on me.- he says only, without traces of malice, complacency, only... sweetness, damn, it seems sweetness. And it wasn’t the first time that she grasps that nuance in him when he is with her. -Trust me, I don’t bite.- he adds, this time giving her a brief smile, but not one of those with half-crooked lips, of when she still called him Newbie, no, one of those as when he had given her that anti-stress.

-You're so stubborn...- she exclaims, closing her eyes and signing her surrender. He doesn’t wait for anything else, surrounding her shoulders with his arm, so big, powerful, that it seems made for that task, because she is not really the smallest woman on the planet. Not that it was the first time he did it, no, it had happened when they brought Lou to Phil... but Penelope decides to send her pride to the hell and even puts her head on his shoulder for the short ride that separates them from man's car. She seems to hear a sigh of restrained joy, but it must have been just her impression. Why should he be happy to have her weight on him?

Too soon she feels herself snatching from that comfortable torpor in which she had fallen and without understanding how, she finds herself sitting in the passenger's seat. -Do you prefer a little silence, or I turn on the radio?- he's asking her (it’s hard to admit it) savior.

-No, the silence leaves too much space to my thoughts.- she answers extremely sincere and doesn’t get too angry with himself. She is just "wake up" and has the defenses completely lowered and already today she feels no good... -Better the radio.- she decrees and he nods, turning on the first and then starting the engine.

And you provoke envy in people, because of who is great, but doesn’t realize it... with ten thousand excuses the world devours you, you laugh and make fun of it... you direct love at all, but stay out of groups, those who talk a lot, think a little less... come from confidence and an the idea that looks good, the medium is important, but the aim is the person, and only love is important, you keep it too much, that’s why you are special…

Only rarely she gives him a quick glance, while the man's eyes remain fixed on the road. She wonders what he's thinking right now, surely to Lisa, even if he tried to make her believe he wasn’t feel too bad. They had been together for how much, at least a year, no? He couldn’t have come out from it as if nothing had happened. But Luke is in a completely different kind of elucubrations; he is in fact meditating that he could so easily dedicate to her some of the phrases of this song that he has never heard before today. An annoying sound breaks his thoughts before they can become deeper.

-Oh no, I think that we have a case.- Penelope exclaims, in a desperate tone. She clears her throat, to probably prevent other coughing from interrupting her. From the corner of his eye he sees her grab her cell phone and press a button; the speakerphone. -Go ahead, Emily. It's me and Luke.- she declares quietly. A pause of a few seconds. The woman on the other end of the phone is in fact assimilating the information received, fighting against her perplexity. How come those two were together at this time?

So, the head of the BAU perks up. -I called to warn you that Rossi has decided to hold a kind of collective bachelor party and invited the whole team for tomorrow night. He instructed me to pass the word...- this time she does nothing to hide the relief that seizes her.

-Oh, thank goodness, for a moment I feared that...- even the other woman easily reads her mind. She can imagine the smile of the friend spreading on her face.

-No, no new case, don’t worry.- she reassures her, with a chuckle. -And, Garcia?- she adds, just to the last. An infinitesimal exchange of glances between driver and passenger that remains of an uncertain nature.

-What?- then she asks in turn, trembling inside.

-Are you sure you're okay? You look a little... weird...- Penelope looks up at the sky and then looks at Luke as if she wanted to hit him; the man merely giggles almost imperceptibly. Too low for Emily to hear it, luckily for him.

-I'm fine, and anyway, Alvez is taking me home, so don’t worry.- the man makes another completely silent smile. -Night, ma’am.- the blonde says.

-Good night.- Emily echoes.

-Night, Prent...- but the conversation has already been closed. -Hey, I was still talking!- Luke protest. -What is it?- he then asks, taking advantage of a stop to look her in the eye.

-Come on, say it.- she urges him. -You can’t wait to do it, you are quivering with the desire to reproach me. C’mon, don’t be shy.- then he understands what she is referring to.

-If you insist...- he says, enjoying another nice round of those eyes that have captured his from the first glance. -Have you seen? Even Emily has noticed that you aren’t the same.- Penelope immediately breaks the eye contact, preferring to focus on the unattractive landscape that is beyond the window.

-Damned profilers...- she mumbles. Then, a sudden lighting. -Oh, hell.- though he is careful as he drives, the man hears her and immediately starts thinking about the worst. Seeing her hand on her chest, he is afraid that she may have a heart attack.

-What? What happened?- he exclaims alarmed and not hiding it in any way.

-Nothing.- however, the colleague answers, stubborn to the end. She would also be able to die, rather than admit that he was right.

-Penelope... I don’t let it go, there is no way.- he clarifies it with a hard, almost angry tone. -Then speak.- he doesn’t intend to give her a way to escape and this time she falls badly, because she is aboard his car, he could lead her where he wants, even at his home, and the silent treatment will not work. At the cost of stopping and spending all night on the side of the road.

-Oh, what the hell.- she seems to realize it. Just when she is about to start explaining she is caught by some cough; the less they are numerous and the more they increase in intensity. -I remembered only now that I don’t even have a medicine at home.- she manages to say, with the fluctuating voice that comes and goes, but the man still understands the general sense of the sentence.

-It’s not a problem, there is a pharmacy a little further on.- there follows a pause where only the music of a digester's advertisement is heard. Then Luke turns expressly towards her, almost in slow motion. -Does that mean you admit you're sick?- he's so pleased and so beautiful with that expression, those shining eyes, that she finds herself confirming her knockout.

-I admit it, ok?- she doesn’t have time to hide the shadow of a smile also on her own lips. -Satisfied?- he still doesn’t comment on it, not out loud, at least.

-Partly.- here in the night shine the green light of the cross indicating that they have reached the goal. Luke parks, then he unties his belt. -Wait in the car, I'll come back in a moment.- he says, and he has already almost half a foot on the asphalt, when he hears himself grabbing by the edge of his jacket.

-No way.- now she too gets out of the car. -I'm not dying, Alvez, and I will not let you pay for my stuff.- she says firmly and stubbornly, then she opens her eyes, hearing again her voice. -God, it seemed like a drug addict' phrase.- he closes his car door and observes her do the same, then he inserts the allarm.

-A little.- he doesn’t even try to hold back a giggle. -I imagine that this is the consequence of feminism.- but this time she doesn’t seem to find his joke particularly amusing. They are walking a few centimeters away, they don’t notice it, but their steps are perfectly synchronized, like two soldiers during the official parade on July 4th.

-Don’t think about things bigger than you.- she admonishes him and he understands that there is no need to reply. -Hurry, I don’t want to spend more than ten minutes with you.- she picks up the pace and goes over him at the entrance. -I can’t bear you anymore.- Luke, however, can’t help but laugh again, hearing her complaining about his company, making her anger, but the woman decides to concentrate on choosing the medicine to buy. The truth is that there are too many kind and that each has a stranger and terrifying name of the other, it wasn0t that now she has learned them by heart, by dint of looking for digital traces for cases of unknown subjects with dependencies of all kinds... she not even realize that is entered a man who seems pretty nasty, sometimes the judgment on the book given only by brushing the cover with the look is extremely accurate and sometimes, the clothes makes the man. She jumps, ending with her back against her colleague's chest when the first shot resonates in the building, shaking all the windows containing non-over-the-counter drugs. Luke gives a quick glance and realizes that there are only two (three) people besides them and the gangster: an old man, with a stick and walker, who is holding his chest (he hopes he is not having a principle of a heart attack, but it would not be so strange, in this case) and a mother with a stroller decorated with Hello Kitty. Without speaking, he grabs Penelope by the shoulders and turns her towards him; he makes her understand that she has to be silent and doesn’t move. He directs himself sneaking towards the man, who wears neither a mask nor anything that could prevent his identification. Bad sign. He hears a moan of fear coming from behind his back, but he doesn’t turn around to scold her. She isn’t used to living these kinds of situations. And then he could never say bad words to her.

He still makes two steps and is exactly behind the man, what he should do is shoot without identifying, because this would make everything much simpler. He is an excellent shooter, he has certificates holed up in a box that he has never opened at home, to testify this. In this way, the robber (he wants to keep believing it's just this) wouldn’t have time to hurt anyone. But he took an oath, and, above all, what would Penelope think of him if he killed a man in that way? -FBI, weapon on the ground and hands up.- then he shouts, completely entering his role. That man doesn’t move. -You heard me? Weapon on the ground and we can talk.- he repeats, trying to give a calm, serene and peaceful tone to his voice, but at the same time decided and authoritarian. Sometimes it's just a matter of who screams louder.

-FBI, uh?- he says, finally, turning around so that he can looks him right in the face. Brown hair, standard length, brown eyes, white, about thirty years old. If it weren’t for that look, he would seems as any of the American tax payers. -I have three hostages at my disposal.- he points out, with a sick smile that perhaps he believes particularly original, but Luke has seen it too many times on too many different faces. -If you shoot me, I'll have time to bring one of them with me.- the man continues, becoming more and more sure of himself. Behind him he hears a noise, but he doesn’t want to think that it could be Garcia who has followed him. -Do you like the risk, federal agent?- he asks him directly, amused in a way too obvious by the use of that title. Almost Luke was nothing but his job. But he wants to believe that he is also other, for example, Roxy's dad.

It is the thought of his dog that gives him the right charge. -Good, then let's do it, we put down the guns at the same time and then we'll talk.- he proposes, even sketching a smile, so fake, because he was never good at pretending these things, like Hotch, like Rossi, or like Emily and JJ. Perhaps he is still the hunter of men who believed that profiling was stupid. -What do you think?- the other, however, seems not too attentive to his words, look beyond him, and Luke knows what it means, but still basks in the illusion. Denying, always denying, beyond the evidence.

-I say, don’t take it out, I would prefer to exchange a few words with your blonde friend.- until his most horrendous fears are confirmed and he is forced to smash his face violently against them. He makes a big mistake, unable to disguise his emotions, he closes his eyes for a moment so as not to faint, stunned by the horror that is revolting his guts.

-What blonde friend...- he tries anyway, one last try. Then he hears that noise again, and this time he recognizes it, clear and precise. A sneeze. A moment later someone' hand, delicate skin, soft and silky, takes his wrist.

-Sorry, Luke, I tried to restrain myself, but...- she begins to justify herself, but Luke shakes his head and weaves a single finger into hers, trying to pass on what he thinks.

In any case, the man, which is, now is clear, certainly not just a robber, doesn’t seem willing to let them talk. -Make a deal, federal agent...- Luke anticipates him, gaining some points. But he is losing this match 4 to 0.

-Luke, Luke Alvez, but you can call me Luke.- the voice comes out too uncertain, almost careless, it is as if the language no longer wanted to respond to his commands. And that blonde who vibrates imperceptibly next to him doesn’t help keep him cool.

-Good, Agent Alvez.- he does it on purpose, still calling him with the title and to prefer his last name, thus rejecting his implicit proposal to manage the thing amicably. In fact, he prefers it because he thinks of something that he might have read or perhapsReid had told him about the value of the proper name of divinity and city. And if that bastard didn’t call him by name, he couldn’t dominate him. -I'll let all the hostages go if she plays with me.- he adds with a lascivious smile.

Luke trembles, but for the blind rage that assails him. -Play with you what?- but his question is totally ignored, because Penelope passes in front of him, and goes over a few steps towards the asshole with the gun still pointed in the direction of the young mother.

-I'm in.-she says, her voice firm. The man can’t help but feel so proud of his colleague, and, at the same time, also angry with her, because it is not up to her to play the role of heroin in this show.

-Wait, Garcia, don’t be hasty...- he tries to stop her, but she drives him away like an annoying insect.

-Shut up, Luke.- she silences him abruptly. -I said I'm in.- she turns to the other man and gets a little closer. Luke feels the useless weight of the weapon in his hand. He reaches her, supports her and tries to concentrate only on the asshole.

-Tell me.- he repeats, a hoarse growl at the bottom of his throat. -What do you want to play with her?- who knows what the hell he expects, but nothing could displace him more than the answer of the man.

-Truth or dare.- he exclaims, never turning away from the blonde. -If I realize that you lie, honey, your friend will get a nice bullet in the body.- he explains, stroking his gun as if he were already anticipating the moment when the bullet will pierce the epidermis of the federal agent. -Understand?- he adds with tone a bit more serious and even evil.

-Understand.- she nods, slightly bowing her head, showing herself submissive. But is it a performance or does she really want to surrender to him, do everything that he asks for?

-Garcia, you don’t have to lend yourself to this thing.- he tries again to dissuade her, he doesn’t even know why, because he understood that by now the mechanism has started and there is no way to stop it.

-Luke, stop getting in the way.- she replies, but the fact that she has called him again by name is equivalent to a kind of secret signal to tell him that she hasn’t completely lost her mind, that she will not give up so easily as thinks the unmasked asshole.

-You heard, Agent Luke Alvez?- this time the other also calls him by full name. He goes back, walking without looking where he puts his feet, and yet he doesn’t stumble, until he reaches the door, he must have blocked without anyone noticing it, he throws it open and gestures to the hostages to get out of his way. Only then Luke thinks about the strangeness of the lack of workers: why was not there even a pharmacist? Should not they necessarily have to do the night service? -Now, good, put down the gun and kick it, towards me.- the cold voice of the asshole brings him back to reality. He does it without objecting, then he observes him even more powerless, tying the wrists of his colleague. He clenches his fists until he hurt his knuckles. Then he does the same with him and also gives him a boost, taking advantage of the fact that he has no way to keep his balance. - Let's start.- he says. -Truth or dare...- Luke feels a knot in his stomach, understanding what is about to happen. No, don’t don’t do it, he tries to communicate telepathically to her. Don’t tell him your real name. But she can’t hear him.

-Penelope. My name is Penelope.- she replies in fact. She coughs and blushes, perhaps because of the shame of not being able to cover her mouth with an hand, as they taught her. -And I choose truth.- she adds, showing himself decisive, like a convict who knows he is going to meet his destiny, proud as Joan of Arc at the stake.

-Great, Penelope.- he doesn’t hide his perverse complacency. -What are you doing here with him at this time? In other words, what is your relationship with him?- he hastens to clarify, confusing her by mixing the two questions. In spite of himself, Luke realizes he is deeply interested in what she will say. -Think well on what to answer, because I will understand if you lie.- he warns her in a bored tone, as if it were a phrase he repeated too many times. And maybe it's like that. This is not an amateur, he must have done it before. And what happened to his previous victims?

-We... we work for the same unit.- Penelope begins to explain, interrupted by another cough that doesn’t seem to catch pity from the asshole. -Behavioral Analyst Unit.- she specifies. -I am a computer technician and he is a special supervisor agent. We are work colleagues.- all here. Colleagues. But hadn’t he done the same thing when he'd introduced her to Lisa on their first date? So why should he feel entitled to be... hurt, offended?

-How boring.- even the other man doesn’t seem happy, and fiddles with the weapon, making it dangle for the handle. -I was hoping for something more, honestly.- he shoves it behind his back and starts walking toward them.

-Don’t come any closer her, don’t touch her, don’t dare!- Luke jumps, unable to contain his anger as he watches that man move his dirty hands along the body of Penelope, looking for a document that he could easily find if only he looked in the right place and most obvious, her bag.

-A little too protective to be just a colleague, don’t you think?- he is aimed exclusively at the blonde. Then he follows Luke's telepathic advice and finds the woman's badge and takes a second to capture the Latin one as well. -I seen you told the truth.- he nods, to himself. -It is not allow omitting the details, however.- he adds, at the last, with a completely different tone and also his gaze, his eyes, change, almost another entity had taken the upper hand in him. -Maybe I should show you that I'm serious...- he turns with a jerk and pulls the trigger, just in the direction of Luke's leg, where Penelope herself knows that the femoral artery is located and that would mean only five minutes of time to intervene before the man bleeds to death. The thought provokes her yet another attack of cough, but she manages to reject it with the few remaining forces. The cry dies in her throat when she hears only the empty click, the shot without the result of the weapon. -Oh, I forgot to tell you that we are also doing another game.- he laughs, a coarse and vulgar laugh, but definitely less frightening than that look. -Do you know Russian roulette, Luke? This time you were lucky, but Luck is a fickle thing that never ceases to turn...- the man rotates the section of the weapon, only now Luke recognizes it, a revolver, where the bullets are. There are only two, enough to kill both. -So, truth or dare?- he asks re-establishing the initial distances.

-I want to take part in this.- the federal agent intrudes, noticing Penelope's shining eyes and wondering if the cause is really just the flu or a hell brooding.

-Do you have any burning secret to reveal, Luke?- for the first time, he seems to have been able to capture his attention. -A weight to get rid of?- the other hesitates. -Otherwise you're not very interesting.- he concludes, shrugging.

-I'm filled of secrets.- he exclaims then, and in fact, he's not lying at all. Since he's been part of the BAU the situation has changed a little, but there are a lot of things that his colleagues ignore about his private life and his previous life.

The asshole looks really pleasantly surprised. -Well, let's see.- then he backs to focus on the blonde who is becoming red to prevent a sneeze or yet another cough. Almost as if it were a sign of unforgivable weakness. -But remember that if you lie the sweet Penelope will take a bullet... let's say in her leg.- he understands that with the mind the slimy is caressing her thigh and that, if he were to die, it could really happen. He could even do it while the blood, together with life, flows out of her. -Are you still convinced you want to play?- he nods, planting his teeth in his lower lip. -If you are happy... Truth or dare?- the easiest choice he has had to make since they have been here.

-True.- he replies, while a sneeze resounds beside him.

- What's the thing that makes you ashamed more, of all the things you had to do for your work?- he asks without hesitation. -The one that make you feel more guilty, I mean something that, even after the years, doesn’t let you sleep well.- Luke bends down his head, because he has an answer, and the asshole will like it so hard.

He closes his eyes, shielding himself from the rest of the world. -Before I joined the BAU... there was a guy, a criminal. Daniel Cullen.- he is no longer in this pharmacy, on the floor, with his hands tied. -He tormented my partner, my best friend... almost killed him. He has ripped apart him.- he's back in time or maybe in a memory or in a fantasy, as long as there is a difference. -I should have been in his place.- he says, raising his eyelids, but being careful not to look at Penelope. -It's been six years, and yet I keep waking up sweating in the middle of the night, and doing the same nightmare, identical.- he is not lying about it, and perhaps that also helped push Lisa to make that decision. And he couldn’t blame her.

-Did you want to kill him?- the asshole pricks him, completely immersed in his black tale. - Or did you do it?- Luke vibrates, meditating for the first time on the possibility of lying to him, to preserve the image that his colleague has of him, at least that she will want to speak again with him, as long as they will survive all this.

-Yes, I wanted to kill him with my hands, see the life flow away from his eyes and no, I couldn’t do it.- in the end he opts again for the cruel truth, not for beautiful lies. Killing and even wishing to do so is one of the ten sins punished by his religion, but even this can’t stop him. -Unfortunately.- he adds, digging his chasm a little further.

-Wow, this is a great revelation, don’t you think so, Penelope?- that man smiles, waiting maybe that the blonde could do the same. -You’re safe, for now, even if it seems to me, Luke, that your words have hurt her more than any bullet.- the man is forced to see that he is right. The blonde is trembling and her big eyes, wide open, are ones of an animal caught in the headlights. -You shocked her, poor girl. You didn’t think that your coworker had so dark thoughts inside him, didn’t you?- she doesn’t nod nor denies. -It’s your turn, now. Truth or dare?- wearily, as she wouldn’t have any alternative, she answers him.

-Truth.- that man beats an hand on the other and play for a bit with the gun, while he seems think about what he could asks her this time.

-What do you feel for your colleague Luke, especially in the light of his revelations?- he finally asks, and in fact it is strange that he took so long to get there, because in the movies is one of the first things, almost two kidnapped people have to end up getting together... if both remain alive until the end credits.

-Penelope, the team will arrive soon, you don’t have to say anything you don’t want.- he gets in the way, tonight it seems that he hasn’t done anything else, and for a second she looks at him.

Then, however, she shakes her head. -No, it’s not. It’s my fault if we had to stop here.- two other tears run along her cheeks and the man hates he couldn't do anything, the fact he can’t dry them with his thumbs. -Luke, I… there is no way to say it, and If I ever thought about this moment, I never imagined that it would been in a pharmacy, hands tied behind the backs, and a fool who is pointing his weapon to our heads.- the asshole doesn’t seem to take it badly, he is probably used to it. -But I say simply the truth, as he asked me.- now Luke trembles for another reason, so different from the ones that have shaken him until now; because the way she has talked and her gaze… it’s possible that she is really about to confess what he thinks? And why that idea makes him so happy? His priority is to save her, save both of them, so he could take her to the hospital, to a medic… and they could understand what she has, because his instinct, that bastard who is always right, tells to him that there is not just a flu, there is something worst under it and a cruel hourglass that signals the the time available. -I don’t think about you just as a coworker… you became important for me, don't mind how much I tried to keep you from doing that.- here they are, she is about to say it, really, maybe it will be just a distraction, yeah, in fact it would be the right thing to do. A good love confession, a fed gossip could confuse the asshole just enough to… -I… I love you and I can’t handle that you could be hurt or even dead because of me!- she says, and almost the effort to say all those things had been too much for her body, she bursts into a series of convulsive cough attacks, this time longer, deep and sinister. -Are you satisfied now?- then she asks, nose, eyes red and full of tears. For a moment Luke fears she might die suffocated.

-Well, let's say that this time I will not shoot him.- yet that asshole is not even satisfied, it even seems... disappointed. -It's your turn, Luke. Truth or dare?- the federal agent sighs, before answering, meditating on how much time can actually be passed, ruthless hourglasses apart.

-Truth.- why the team is not here yet? The hostages didn’t back to their home pretending it’s happened nothing, right? Whoever would warn the law enforcement. Sure, from this to call the BAU…

-Perfect, as I guessed.- he makes turn the box containing the projectiles again. -And you, Agent Alvez, what do you really think of your colleague?- here, his turn has arrived. --Remember that her leg is always at stake, if you try to be clever.- he doesn’t give him time to reflect. -And I add: is there anything else you've never told her, and would you like to confess?- but unknowingly, he provides him with exactly what he needed: an escape to not find himself confessing his love in such a situation drab. -This could be the right time, also because it could be the last one.- that warning, however, puts everything at stake.

He turns to her, how much the strings allow him. -Penelope, I…- and he understands that he is really about to throw himself without parachute. What good would it do still living with his intact pride but in a world without her?

-You don’t have to answer, Luke.- she seems say the same as him a moment ago. -I was already shot, I can handle it.- and she is right, that shit of Battle dared to do a similar action, but just because at that time he was busy to dodging bullets on the front line of a war that he never understood.

-But he can’t, I’m right?- the asshole seems so easy reading his mind, yet, he decides consciously to try to trick him.

-Penelope, do you remember Phil?- he start to say. -You remember that the day he died you asked me if he had asked about you and that...- he bites his lips to make them bleed, but never removes his eyes from her, despite the shame he feels. -I lied to you, and I lied to him too. Since he saw you, he did nothing but torment me to know if you were already dating someone or if you were free, and I...- the mouth that so much wanted to taste bends downwards. And it's his fault, only his.

-Why, why did you do it?- Penelope asks, sounding more confused than hurt.

-Yeah, Luke, why did you do it?- echoes that human shit that keeps on keeping her under his sight.

-Because… because I didn’t want that my private life and work mixing too much.- it’s a bullshit, and it’s so obvious, yet he really said it. -I know I was selfish, but…- his words are covered by a thud that sounds to their ears as a rumble.

-Wrong answer.- without adding other word, the man points his gun exactly at the level of the knee of the blond and pulls the trigger. Luckily, even this time they hear just a empty noise that means the missing of the bullet in the chamber. For the scare Penelope bursts into a coughing crisis that makes her eyes tear up and turns her whole face more red. Luke can’t have the time to scream his terror, fearing that he has condemned his colleague to death just for his inability to confess the truth, even in a such moment. The asshole is right, he could not have another occasion to do it. -You two were lucky, even this time.- he says, not happy, looking at the empty chamber as it had voluntary betrayed him. -Who knows how it will go the next.- he sight. -Penelope, truth or dare?- probably nobody expects the next move of the blonde.

-Dare.- she answers with an uncertain tone.

-Interesting choice.- in fact comments the asshole. -Well. You must hit your friend and dear colleague, as hard as you can, I want to see a good mark. That's what you want, deep inside of you, after what he told you and especially after he showed how much he doesn’t really care about your life, since he lied even though he knew what was at stake.- he steps that distance them and cuts with a single gesture the ribbon that wraps the wrists of the woman, so little careful to make a slight wound on her arm. Luke watches the red liquid gush out and feels his pulse increase; Penelope, on the other hand, doesn’t emit sound. -Or, if you prefer, you can use this.- he makes dancing in front of her the knife, like a hypnotizer in a magic show. -What are you choosing?- Penelope looks at the cold weapon and then her own hands, free.

-Don’t worry, Garcia, do what he want.- Luke tries to reassure her, understanding that she needs his approval. -It's all right, it will not hurt me and he's right, I deserve it.- he even manages to give her a small smile. The blonde closes her eyes and nods. Who knows if he has understood that she had to concentrate on the people who, many years later, she hated more in her life. She brings the arm back, the not injured, to give the right push and hits him. The psychopathic asshole this time can be said to be satisfied, because she left a nice mark on his cheek, in which all the fingers are perfectly distinguished. Yet, the slap doesn’t burn and he doesn’t even feel pain. All his concentration is on her, who falters kneeling before him, but free.

-Luke, please, I'm sorry, I...- before the asshole can put her brusquely to shut up, she has another attack of cough, so deep and intense that it seems to shake her body entirely, silencing her. The other makes a sign of denial with his head, as if to say that he doesn’t approve of this manifestation of remorse, while he ties her hands back behind her back, taking advantage to leave a slimy caress on her backside, which causes anger in the federal agent.

-You are right, you're trained to bear the pain, uh?- he passes the tongue on his lips. -Too bad. But she has respected the pacts, so I can’t shoot you.- again that sense of regret. -Where have you learned such techniques? Afghanistan? Iraq?- he nods to the last option. -I guessed.- he shrugs. -So, Luke, truth or dare?- he smiles at him, as if to suggest to him what he could do, if only he would let himself go completely.

-I will never choose dare.- but Luke fights, because he is certainly not less stubborn than the asshole. -You will not force me to hurt her.- he explains calmly and decisively, like death. -I prefer to die.- he concludes, and is neither lying nor joking, nor exaggerating.

-I assume you've still chosen truth.- he yawns. -You ae so boring.- he plays again with the revolver, in a kind of circus number, while Penelope surrenders to another series of coughs. -Have you ever betrayed a woman?- the man realizes how the blonde has totally unbalanced to better hear the response of her colleague and his dilated pupils, and this makes him smile with evil satisfaction.

-It depends on what is meant by betrayal.- Luke answers ambiguously. -If you mean the classic being with two feet in the same hoof ... never physically, never concretely, not even a kiss.- he admits, proud of himself, for once. -If you extend the concept... with the mind, often.- he just staring at the asshole in the eye, keeps his eyes fixed in his, not at all scared by the prospect of being sucked from his abyss. -I was with Lisa and I was also fine, but I always ended up making comparisons with another woman... one that I didn't even deserv to look.- he doesn’t know if he can guess that he is referring to Penelope. -Fortunately, she left me, because I'm so cowardly I would never have done it.- not even that is so difficult to admit. -And if we want to go even further, I cheated on my mother when I enlisted in the army even though I knew that this would cause her a heart attack.- which was not fatal just by a whisker, he only adds in his head, but after that, she wasn’t the same woman anymore. And he could ever forgive himself?

-Damned, I wasn’t expecting an answer like that, good job, SSA, you managed to amaze me.- he claps his hands, pleased, holding the weapon with a single finger. -Yes, Penelope, there's still a bullet that can’t wait to get stuck in your colleague's flesh filled of secrets.- Truth or dare? - she has no doubts this time, because she certainly can’t risk he could forcing her to put an end to her colleague's life... how could she not think about it before?

-Truth.- she answers in fact, in a tone without nuances. The head is about to burst, and the heart is on its way to reach it, not to mention the lungs, which burn as if she had inhaled live fire.

-You reacted so badly when he told you he lied about Phil... I bet he's the same friend who was tortured in his place.- he ignores the grimace that appears on Luke's face and confirms his suspicions. It is really true that the best profilers are the unknown subjects. -So... were you in love with him?- incredibly, the question manages to surprise her and she almost laughs, but she knows that it wouldn’t be a good choice, especially for her body, she doesn't care of what the asshole would do to her. She still feels condemned to leave this earth tonight.

-No, Phil... I liked him, very much.- she admits, and to think of him hurts. -I think that if I had been given the chance, I could have fall in love with him, but...- she catches a glare and seems to have been the only one to notice it. -...at the moment, and even now, my heart is already busy...- she starts talking, pretending to be more lost than it is and surprising for her ability to dominate the cough. -I couldn’t tell how long exactly. I think from the first time I saw this person...- she continues to stay on the vague, the glow increases, perhaps now also Luke saw it, but he is good at pretending to be in turn focused on that strange confession. -I think I immediately got a crush. And then gradually I fell in love. I'm in love with one of our colleagues.- she says, feeling everyone's attention catalyzed on her. -I understand, Luke, how you behaved, he was right, you lied: it wasn’t to not mix work and private life, it was because you thought I wasn’t enough for your best friend...- she abruptly changes the subject, but the asshole doesn’t have time to notice it, because a red dot appears to him exactly in the middle of his chest.

And then, that shout, finally. -FBI, you're surrounded. Give yourself up or we’ll shoot.- the relief is such that the sudden inflow of oxygen causes her a terrible pain in the chest, but she ignores it. The hands, still tied, are intertwined as a sign of hope.

-If you shoot, I take with me in the afterlife the blonde .- he replies, repeating the initial comedy. -What do you say, Penelope, do you want to take a trip?- but that is the last joke that he declaims on the stage of life, as Shakespeare loved to call it and before him a Spanish wrapped in the same shadow of mystery. Luckily, man falls backwards, right in front of the IT.

Prentiss makes her way through the agents and reaches them. -Luke, Penelope, are you ok?- she starts to untie the friend, while she is reached by Rossi who does the same with Latin. -Is anyone of you hurt?- she asks only for security.

Luke speaks first. -No, but she is sick, I don’t know what she has, I think it is a bronchial pneumonia, she has almost never ceased to cough.- he explains and Emily remembers the impression that she had just... one hour, at most an hour and half ago, on the phone. -It would be better if...- she nods and helps Penelope to stand up, noting the cut on the wrist, the blood now clotted.

-I understood.- she calls the paramedics. -Come here, it's here.- the lights finally stun the poor woman, who tries to stop them from taking her away in an ambulance.

-Please, Emily...- half of the sentence is absorbed by yet another cough -... don’t listen to him, I'm...- and the other from an even stronger attack. She understands that it is not worth attempting and she abandons herself, like a dead body, to the care of someone who can really help her. From the stretcher she still manages to see her adventure companion approaching one of the doctors.

-Can I go up in the ambulance with her?- she hears him ask, but his voice sounds distant and muffled, perhaps she has only imagined it because it was what she wanted to hear.

-Only if it doesn’t interfere with us.- a paramedic replies, abruptly, but then contraddicts himself with a half-smile, as if he too had become a profiler and had sensed what is between them. Yes, but what exactly is there between them?

As soon as they leave, she loses consciousness. Luke, trying to stay as much as possible on the sidelines, looks at the standard procedures to stabilize her and understands from their speeches that she is not so serious... but she is not even good. After having intubated her, the paramedic with whom he spoke earlier, beckons that he can now approach and tell her what he wants, but also to be brief and not to agitate her too much... or they will be forced to get rid of the excess ballast. -Penelope, darling, don’t worry.- he begins, realizing that this is the first time he calls her that way, but it's so good. -I will never leave you alone, as long as they allow me to be near you, understand?- she can’t answer him and her eyes are scared, frightened by that thing that prevents her from breathing in a normal way. -I'll always keep your hand.- he says, gently caressing her. -Do you want to answer a question? I promise that tonight is the last one.- he reassures her and understands that in another moment, she would have laughed at his joke. -A single squeeze for means yes and two for no.- Penelope proves to have understood the mechanism. -Ok. Is it true what you said in there, that... that you're in love with someone from the team?- another sign for the yes. -Well. Is a woman?- two squeezes. -No. So, it's one of the men... is he busy?- a longer pause than the previous ones, because Penelope is about to nod, but suddenly remembers that Luke told her that Lisa had left him. -This excludes Matt and Rossi.- he deduces, many intelligently. -So... is Reid?- the last fateful squeeze. -No. So... it's me. You're in love with me.- and this time there's no question mark at the end of the sentence. -No, don’t shake, I told you. I will not leave you alone. Everything will be all right and when you're better, when we're sure you're okay, we'll talk a bit.- he says, continuing to stroke her hand, the only thing he can do in a similar situation. How much is missing at the hospital? -Do you think you can forgive me for lying to you about Phil?- he breaks his promise.-It wasn’t because I thought you weren’t enough for him, and not even to keep the private sphere separate from the professional one, but because... I was jealous of you. I didn’t want to... that you were with another man.- but he also had to get rid of this burden, he couldn’t allow her to end under the knife without knowing the truth. -I know it was selfish behavior and I apologize, I will spend all my life apologizing, if you will allow me...- Penelope raises her arm just enough to be able to gently caress the man, who understands that is the only way she has to reassure him. -Falling in love with you was inevitable, like an unconditional reflex, I couldn’t do anything, like when you have to sneeze or cough, and you can try hard to hold it back, but in the end you have to let it come out.- he adds, even if in a low voice (he is not sure that she has heard it, because her eyes are closed), just as they enter the hospital entrance.

TAGS: @theshamelessmanatee @arses21434 @kathy5654 @martinab26 @reidskitty13 @jenf42 @gracieeelizabeth27 @silviajajaja @smalliemichelle99 @charchampagne14 @thinitta @myhollyhanna23 @garvezz @mercedes-maldonado @shyladystudentfan @cosmicmelaninflower

#garvez #criminal minds #cm #penelope garcia #luke alvez #what if 14x15 truth or dare #penelope x luke #luke x penelope #garcia x alvez #alvez x garcia #tiziano ferro #10 mila scuse interludio

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oldcastielrip · 7 years

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It’s Called Cuddling (Jack Kline x Reader)

Request: “Would you pretty please write something where the reader gets into a relationship with jack and then she tries to teach him the concept of cuddling? Pretty please? But I totally understand if you can’t lol, love your writing btw!💞”

Title: It’s Called Cuddling

Pairing: Jack Kline x Reader

Warnings: fluffy fluff

A/N: Ok so I was going to focus it more around cuddling but once I started writing this is what came out, hope y’all still enjoy it

FEEDBACK IS GREATLY APPRECIATED!

The bunker was quiet, too quiet. The pad of your footsteps was enough to echo through the hallways. You smiled softly when you finally reached the room you were looking for.

“Jack?” You called out, knocking gently on the door before opening it.

The nephilim looked up at the sound of his name, grinning once he realized it was you. He set the laptop that was on his lap to the side, turning his body so he could face you completely.

“Y/N,” He whispered quietly, his eyes shining up to look at you. “What’re you doing here? Dean said you can’t be in my room after 10.”

You chuckled softly at his worry, stepping into the small room anyway. He watched you as you closed the door behind you and walked over to sit next to him on the bed.

“Sam and Dean went on a hunt,” You explained to him, the worry leaving his face almost immediately. “Plus, Dean isn’t my boss nor is he my dad, so he has no control on what I can and can’t do.”

Jack smiled softly, nodding his head in understanding.

He hesitantly leaned into you, his lips grazing yours softly. You bit down your lip to hide your smile and connected your lips with him in a sweet kiss. It was a simple greeting, just an acknowledgement of your presences with each other.

For the past few weeks, that was how you greeted. With a kiss.

It had sort of happened by accident.

You had always held a special bond with the nephilim despite the eldest Winchester’s warnings. Dean always pointing out the bad in Jack and everything that made him dangerous.

Though you ignored it, knowing that he was just saying it because he was grieving. Hell, you were too. Castiel had been one of your best friends, losing him all too suddenly took a huge impact on you too. But instead of pushing Jack away, you pulled him in because after all, he was grieving too.

One day, you had just come home from getting groceries. As you walked into the kitchen, Sam and Jack were seated at the table while Dean stood by the fridge. You remember just being in such a happy mood, which was something you hadn’t actually felt in a while.

While Dean helped you set down the first round of grocery bags on the counter, you pecked a simple kiss on his cheek as a greeting. He raised an eyebrow at you, something you simply shrugged off.

You did the same to Sam, catching him off guard. You gave him a bright smile as he looked at you, a small chuckle falling from his lips before he returned his attention back to whatever he was looking at on his computer.

Jack looked at you with a simple curiosity, the happiness radiating off from you making him grin. You don’t exactly know what washed over you but as you leaned down to give him his kiss, you didn’t exactly aim for his cheek.

It was a quick peck. And you didn’t quite realize it had happened until you were halfway back to your car. And boy, did Dean get mad.

You pulled away from Jack with a smile, leaning into his touch as his hand cupped your cheek lightly.

“What’re you thinking about?” He asked quietly, his green eyes gazing down into you as he wondered what was going on in your head.

“The first time we kissed.” You answered honestly, awaiting his reaction. Surely, a cheeky grin took over his face.

“You caught everyone off guard that day.” He laughed softly, thinking back to what had happened.

“I was happy to see you, what can I say?” You laughed along with him. “What were you doing?”

You tried to take a peek at the computer screen but it was abruptly shut before you could. You looked at Jack in confusion, his face flushed in embarrassment.

“Nothing interesting,” He cleared his throat, trying to refrain his voice from going an octave higher.

“You’re a terrible liar, you know?” You teased the nephilim lightly, his cheeks a rosy pink. Though a thought clicked in your mind as you looked back at the computer, headphones clearly plugged in.

You gasped. “Were you watching porn?”

It would make sense. He was already changed into his pajamas and he was laying down when you walked in. You glanced back towards Jack, his brows furrowed in confusion.

“Is that the thing that Dean watches where there’s women na-” You clapped a hand over his mouth before he could even finish the sentence.

“Yes,” You answered slowly, frowning since he hadn’t answered the question.

A second later he scrunched up his face in disgust, shaking his head no. A sigh of relief fell from your lips as you removed your hand.

“Good,” You laughed breathlessly. “Then what were you doing?”

Before he could stop you, you grabbed the laptop. He watched you silently as you opened, fiddling with his hands as you did.

Many pages opened from Google searches.

“What is a girlfriend?”

“What do you do with your girlfriend?”

You looked at the embarrassed nephilim in front of you with adoration. It was a conversation you had had with him only a couple days ago. He had asked you what his relationship to you was and that’s when you tried to loosely explain the terms of boyfriends and girlfriends. Although you weren’t even sure that what you had with Jack would be considered that, it always felt like much more.

“Hey,” You called out to him, setting the laptop aside. He glanced at you, the shame still evident in his face. “Hey, stop that. It’s okay to have questions. I’d just wish you would ask me instead of Google.”

He nodded softly.

You grabbed the laptop again and crawled further onto the bed. Once you settled down comfortably, you patted the space beside you. Jack looked at you with confusion but did what you asked, laying down next to you.

“You wanted to know what boyfriend and girlfriends do, well this is it. They cuddle and watch movies.” You answered his unspoken question.

You slowly moved closer towards him, instinctively wrapping one of your legs over his. He just watched you, almost like he was scared to move a muscle.

“It’s okay Jack,” You whispered. “You can touch me, I won’t bite.”

“What do I do?” He asked slowly.

“Whatever you feel like, just make sure you’re comfortable.” You answered him, giving him a quick peck before laying down completely.

Your head rested on his shoulder, your face nuzzled slightly in the crook of his neck. His smell intoxicated you immediately as you relaxed, placing a hand on his chest to feel his heartbeat.

After you finished settling, Jack began experimenting with the position you were in. He slipped an arm beneath you, wrapping it around your shoulder to bring you in closer while his other hand tangled with yours.

You both laid there for what seemed like forever, just enjoying the silence and each other’s company.

“What’re you thinking about?” You asked him softly, breaking the silence.

“We never put on the movie,” He replied, causing you to giggle as you realized he was right. “And how you should probably get to bed.”

The tone in his voice made you sit up slightly, unsure if hinting that you should leave.

“You want me to leave?” You mumbled, a frown once again settling across your features. Instinctively you leaned into his touch as he cupped your cheek once more, his thumb gently caressing it.

“No.” He answered firmly. “Stay.”

He pulled you down to kiss you sweetly before placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.You were even more relaxed than before. How he managed to have this affect on you, you had no idea. But once you settled back into a comfortable position, the beat of his heart was enough to put you to sleep.

A/N: hey y’all ok so due to some difficulties.. i have moved blogs so this one will no longer be active, i’ll just keep it up bc of all my old posts

so please feel free to follow me at @castielrip and feel free to send me REQUESTS there as well

sorry for the inconvenience

thank you!

#jack the nephilim #jack kline x reader #jack kline fluff #jack kline #cuddling #supernatural #supernatural fanfiction #supernatural family #supernatural fandom #supernatural reader insert

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paganchristian · 3 years

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Doves that we saw. Mourning doves. I really think they are interesting and beautiful and I love their call so much. Big round jet-black eyes like glistening drops of ink. When we moved out of the first house we lived in after we were married, then we lived (for many tortured years) at another apartment that gave me headaches which for all I could tell were cluster headaches (and it was completely debilitating torture, but subsided to some degree after we moved, and then more again after we moved again, and these days they seem gone for good, crossing my fingers). But when we lived there, there were these mourning doves at that apartment, who were always calling, and they were right next to our window, in some cedar trees there. Especially after a rain, they would seem to call and call, Whoooo, Whoooo, Whoooo, on and on.

I was going to say the trees they were in (lived in?) were cypress trees, but it’s actually cedar, but for some reason when I see these trees it reminds me of cypress, a traditional tree for planting in cemeteries, why I'm not sure (It seems like I first learned about that in Anne of Green Gables, or was it another Anne book, or another of the many books I read, as a teen, by the author, L. M. Montgomery). Those books have a lot of family associations for me, to my grandmother, and other family members, but I am not longer a big fan of the books, and have grown into a more modernized woman (even though I’m still quite old-fashioned in many ways, more like a modern country woman, or not that either,... Well I don’t know what I am. I don’t fit a category. I wish I could, in some ways anyway, I do. Then I could just flash my identifying labels in a moment in writing, in things I do or how I dress, and other convenient little stereotypical identifiers and instead of being meta, misunderstood, misjudged, I would be comprehended, and find my others of a like mind. But I guess those who are very unique often don’t fit into such a box. Even the plethora of subcultures might just not contain them adequately for many and so if I look for the ones who I have a lot, enough, in the right way in common to be good and lasting friends,... If I look for them, then I am diving for pearls. Maybe I’ll find one and if I do maybe it’s just something that looks like a pearl but is not really. Not that I know or necessarily expect that pearl divers find fake pearls. I have no idea really. But in my imaginary storybook childhood daydream imagination sort of state of mind, I can stretch metaphors and embellish them as storybooks often are.

The doves have really pretty coloration, mourning doves, I think they do. Iridescent blue and pinkish-red patches, the reddish-violet-pink looks to me like a wound in my imagination, it did, when I saw it yesterday. I also really like the certain shade of tan (taupe, is it?) color of their feather and the black spots. After my husband mowed the lawn, there were these two doves, and I guess the mowing the lawn must have made it easier o get seeds or to find whatever they were eating, insects, I’m not sure. Usually their iridescent spots aren’t so visible but yesterday when I looked they really shone out, but in these pictures you can see them a bit, not as much as it was to my eyes. I wonder if the rain somehow changed their colors because it had also just lightly rained, and the sky was that rather sunny though cloudy way it is sometimes

A friend said to me her mother always said when it’s raining and the sun is shining it means an angel is crying. She told me this little tidbit, because it was sunny and started to rain right at that moment. I occasionally used to run into her at the places she worked, after we ‘d been estranged for years. That day, she asked for my phone number, acted just like were going to be best friends again, acted so friendly and warm, and excited to see me, to reconnect, she seemed,... and almost as if we had never drifted apart, ...

And I was wary yet wishful, for the beloved best friend who I had once had, ... But who I thought had changed so much, to become so different from me, so stuck in a whirl of bad habits and problems I couldn't relate to ... But maybe she had changed back again, I hoped. But, no, she never did call me.

It was typical of her to do these kinds of things, and it was also somewhat common for other old former friends to do this to me,... “friends” (what is that title worth anymore, the way people use it), ... I once thought that name was reserved for something much more real and good and strong, but everyone I’ve ever been good “friends” with has misused that word,... as most of them also misuse the words “love”, and they misuse hugs and all other sources of social support, affection, validation,... Everyone who has been extremely loving towards me has turned vicious or abandoned me, eventually. I avoid all signals of affection and closeness. Even from those closer to me, I don’t enjoy hugs and profuse declarations of love and admiration and respect, trust, commitment. Since it has been cruelly and senselessly taken from me by everyone I knew and loved deeply (or twisted to use as a form of narcissistic supply and control, and entrapment into a fake “love” that they still demand and somehow believe in and enjoy).

After becoming so very close and dependent (the way we all need each other, not overly dependent) on people, ... This sudden, complete withdrawal of all love and support has happened to me more times than I can count... with no good reason, sometimes no explanation at all, other times based on narrow mindedness and misunderstandings that seemed completely horrible and senseless, and irremediable, no matter how much I tried to repair and reconnect our broken friendships. In fact this has happened with everyone I was ever very close and loved so much, except for only one family member who has only partially wounded me, ... an ever reopening, never fully healing wound.

I used to be friends with these other people, but then we drifted and for many years we would occasionally run into each other, and in those extremely isolated years, I also made new online “friends”, who I thought were real friends, this time, but who were far faker than anyone ever before,... well, they were internet friends, and I was also in more pain, weirder, so it was harder to find anyone who could be a real friend to someone so weird as I was at that point in my life, with all my intricate idiosyncrasies. I had more of certain problems and at the same time I had more of certain strengths and had grown more aware and mature and in all these ways I often feel I was out of synch with most others. Not that I was any better overall than others, though in my confused perceptions of the time sometimes I felt very misanthropic and was blind to my own failures and flaws to some extent, which is inevitable for many people who are struggling in pain. They can’t see beyond the pain, can’t see the whole bigger picture, clearly, no matter how hard they try ...

But though overall I wasn’t better than others and in some ways far worse than average, ...

Still I was living a life that made me grow and learn in ways others didn’t have to,... yet in other ways that life made me sink far lower, weirder, more boring, annoying, and I had many bad problems, and they were above me in those ways. All in all, I was not a very relatable character to practically anyone, or so it seemed, after so many years of trying, searching, to see, who could there be who was like me, who could understand, and accept respectfully if not understand. And who would be able to relate enough in ways that were meaningful enough to both of us, to be worth being friends together. Not just all these projections where people kept thinking I was their long lost soulmate or best friend they knew instantly on meeting, or who I felt similarly towards them, only to find out we were not able to relate deeply, if not having them actually attack me,... And after all those years of that stupid torment, no more friendships, unless,... Only if it could be a slowly built, tested friendship and slowly tested closeness and trust and valued meaningful connection ... And understanding in the ways I needed understanding and support (and vice versa). Yet I tried and never figured out how to do this either, so the door is very narrow to anyone having the slightest chance at anything resembling normal friendly interactions, much less real deep close friendships.

Hard to find anyone who really understood me though many tried to act like they could, and advised, tried to get close, said they really liked and even loved me deeply, ... Only time told their supposed love for me was full of hate that lay in wait for something to trigger it. They never loved or cared about, respected, or even liked or knew the real me at all, despite their declarations of such things. Despite the deep, long interactions and conversations that I had with some of them,... Others were very hateful and critical and attacked me or abandoned me after knowing me very little (but declaring they really liked me or giving me lots of stupid and obnoxious (in retrospect) virtual hugs and other such things and now real hugs feel to me like painful meaningless gestures after all these things that have happened.. Hugs were always obligatory in my family as I was growing up, despite the extreme distance, and often cruelty and coldness, I felt from those who I had to hug. Hugs feel now to me like a sign of pain and betrayal to come. And if some did have the deepest conversations we did have much in common, and they helped me realize this and that that changed my life, still, the excruciating disorienting betrayal and loss and senseless narrow minded misunderstandings, still happened, one by one after another and another, it was far too much to dare even thinking seriously of trying, after a certain point. to seek and even approach any so-called “friendship”, ever again, time and again, with people I saw and wished I could reach out, ... And who reached out, but I closed up, before pain and betrayal could bloom. And many times I saw later that I was right to keep them away because time showed they would have been another to add to the list of those who would have been cruel. In avoiding them, I had avoided yet more horrifying soul-destroying, innocence-destroying pain, thank God. . In the place of people, real living people, spirits began taking the place of the love and friendship that I needed. And I kept hoping for real love, in a material being who was a true close friend, in my life once again, even still. Wishing, one day. somehow, how I didn’t know. Eventually one day my daughter became that friend, in so many ways, even though of course only in the ways a child can relate, so nothing deeper, darker, yet that too was a blessing. I was lifted up into a more light, bright, innocent, and mindful peaceful, contentment in my existence by her example thorough many many years of trying to relate to her and to become more like a child in my eyes and heart, and feelings and values.. And I feel I’ve grown a lot in that, to be more humble, open, loving, but not open to other people, just open in my own sheltered world, in the ways I can safely be open. I still do not feel I could relate to others, who still are far too different to accept one such as me, as far as I can see, anyway, and my heart is very thoroughly armored with layers of armor, distance, and barbed wire and defense mechanisms that happen without my conscious approval too, even.

Over many painful empty lonely, rather fake years I searched for friends, and ran into these old “friends”. And when I say that they were fake years, I mean, there was so much fakeness in the interactions with others, that i tried to make sense of and interpret, make real, uncover the realness or bring enough realness into it all, but again and again that realness was met with coldness or being ignored and abandoned, or attacked. Mostly ignored or snubbed in subtle ways, before being left behind.

Now I avoid the many “friends” who act this way to me and avoid new “friends” I might make too. They all let me down and seem to be out of touch with reality about how close we are and if we’ll stay close and lead me on with endless illusions of closeness even after we have long since grown apart, holding desperately to the illusion we still have much in common or alternatively, telling me they feel we’ve grown apart when I feel we’re still close. I need something simpler and more clear that can’t be so confusing or I don’t have the emotional strength for it. My emotions are too wildly strewn about and scattered apart, my self blown apart and blown away by the inevitable investment of my self that I give these people, cannot help but give them, only to find without the same closeness as before, I can’t find myself anymore. When I was close friends with them, or tried to be, in spite of how I felt so distant, because they seemed to need and expect it from me, they seemed to think we were so close, and I couldn’t see how they felt like that, but I couldn’t hurt them, anyway... I will not sustain false sense of closeness ever again, because it only led to the point where I couldn’t possibly fake it and it felt like they used me as almost nothing but a dumping ground for complaints, about which they would never take any action, nor any good advice even though my own life was much harder than theirs, or so it seemed, wildly harder. I felt they were stagnating in severe immaturity and unawareness of the world, living with their parents in a tiny, sheltered world out of touch with anything else.

Whenever I tried to be a deep good friend the best I could, even when it felt like such strain, then my identity was largely found in loving, caring and spending time and talking with and having realizations with these friends. And if they couldn’t help me talk about and make sense of my life, my need to make sense of things went unmet, unvoiced. I felt increasingly dead and numb, unwanted, unseen, rejected, unreal, over these years. Without all this attempt to be close, if my friends left me, I felt barren and empty. Even if it was the emptiness of losing something that had grown empty anyway, and was only gestures and the most basic caring.

But when I stayed apart from those people, and now, these days, and with the help of spirit and my identity that I found and developed over the years, often with great pain, and with the love of loving and spending time with my daughter,... Now, I have the continuous self, ... And searching for myself elsewhere and with divination and spirit guidance from actual spirits and God, and signs and messages, and love relationships, spirit lovers, astral (I think or something like that) visions of lovers with all of the intense healing and insights they’ve given to me, messages from them that were often far more beautiful and wise than what I can think of myself, or what any real person or book was able to give me. And reading online and books, these disembodied quotes and conversations, the words of others, these were also the friends who amazingly, sometimes dared and understand how to voice bits and pieces of my reality, that others had shunned,... even if they didn’t validate my whole reality, even if they would condemn me severely or just reject and ignore me in other ways, if I knew them in person, as oftentimes it became clear that they would (which hurt but made me glad I wasn’t talking to real people, thank God), but since it’s only written words by an author or some person who is online, someone who I don’t personally know...

And, however miserable it might have sometimes been in this long many years season of isolation, .. .Still it is so infinitely much better than to be dashed to pieces and blown away when friends leave me, and left with almost no self but terrible grief).

But anyway, the day before yesterday, after the dream my daughter told me about the pet chicken who pecked us when it wanted to be fed, we saw three doves, which we don’t see that often, as they are usually in pairs or single, and one chased and pecked another, who then flew away. Then just a bit later, a dove flew, hard into the window, and flew away again.

Then last night my daughter dreamed that we had lots and lots of red-winged blackbirds on our bird feeder, many babies, which she called “chicks”. We have in real life managed to attract way more red-winged blackbirds, it seems. Ever since my daughter started to attract them with the bird call toy, one stayed around for a few days and then more an more started to come by, and the same way with the cardinal call toy and now we have so many cardinals in our yard. There is no mistaking it, the bird call toys have turned our yard and bird feeders into havens for red-winged blackbirds and cardinals. It feels like something out of a magical and unlikely, sweetly illogical children’s storybook, to me. I just didn’t think such a thing was even possible. But so it is for childhood innocence and the every new thing, every new moment and new day is a new chance to experience new things, try new things and see just what is possible.

And the experiences with the doves and the dreams she had and all the thoughts I’ve had about it all it helped to spark more ideas and insights regarding the whole religious confusion and trauma and such,... I might write more about all that later.). It’s so nice to have symbols and synchronicities, dreams and signs to help me with these things. It’s another way life feels like a childhood storybook to me.

But with childhood magical experiences of reality, innocence, and joy at littlest of things, minute details given the fullest attention and enjoyment, the humblest of things a source of delight, my world changes. With patience, with calm and patient happiness in so many things, I am winded down from depression, trauma, anxiety, lifted up bit by bit into an equilibrium. Things that once bored me, even that bored me as a child, because I was too fast-paced and wanted things to be more flashy, more intricate, fancier, more exciting, now those things that bored me are the greatest source of happiness. My daughter brings them fully to life. But I wonder if it because of how she’s been raised, without tv, spending so much time at the park, spending little time with other children, just enough that she can be considered to be “properly socialized”, or whatever that is supposed to mean, but in my own experience I was already experiencing a lot of negative effects of socialization with other kids from her age and earlier. Not that I was even bullied or that it was anything that out of the ordinary, but still.. I was led into a more narrow-minded and average view and way of living. They were nice kids, but they were not like my daughter, and nor was I. She’s so very mindful. But maybe, it could just be her natural personality. I don’t know. Anyway, I hope that she will always be able to keep this peaceful, happy personality that is so mindful and yet so gleeful and so creative, intuitive. I hope the ways she is out of step with the rest of the world, for the most part, will not hold her back but let her find her place she belongs and can be happy. She does seems to be on the autism spectrum, adhd, sensory processing disorder, ocd, and she might be prone to the severe depression that runs in our family. And that is a whole nother thing besides her unique personality and the unique views and values that I’m raising her with, the weirdness that I’m afraid of teaching her and yet I’m more afraid of sending her into the world that made me depressed and lonely and rather narrow minded and uncreative, that stifled the unique personality traits she has. I wonder if I would have been a lot like her, if I had been raised the way she’s being raised. And I don’t want to stifle that. By the time I was about her age, I was suffering badly from being in public school. By the time I was 11, I began to be depressed.

And by the time I was 12, I already felt like a snuffed flame, bored, depressed, and weird beyond belief, as a teenager, totally out of synch with my peers, and the world, yet still suffocated and miserable due to the values and judgments, the beliefs, dogmas and the superficiality and narrow mindedness which were all about me in my peers, and my family and the religion they followed, where I tried to find myself. I hope that she will find her way and her place in the world. I don’t really know at all, at all, at all, how to teach her to make friends with the average social atmosphere you find just about anywhere. I don’t even know how to help her find and make friends, anywhere, online or in subcultures. It’s a terrible fact. But how can I put her out there into average social environments and expect her to find her own way when instead I can be her friend, a deep, forever friend, for as long as we’re both alive. If I’d had that with my own mother (but she never would have been like that because she was also shallow and narrow minded and judgmental and was instead condemning me and shaming me so much by the time I was her age)... but if my mother had raised me and loved me and been as close to me and respectful and open minded with me as I’m being with my daughter, and we had so much in common and she’d been like a child herself, able to enjoy all the things that kids enjoy and spending so much time with me, flying to heights of imagination and just having so much innocents, wholesome fun... if I’d had that then it would have far surpassed and been able to replace all the friends I had who in so many ways did actually drag me down, even if they were a lifeline. They were a lifeline, but it was like when you have nothing better then something very flawed can be a lifeline. They too were inundated with narrow minded views and fears and insecurities and we all fed each others pain but in spite of that there was also some love, some open mindedness, and it was enough to save my life in a world otherwise devoid of understanding and open mindedness in the ways they could give me. But in time they too drifted away. Maybe things will work differently for her and will all work out for her in time, and for me, because of course no one ought to depend on just one person for their social support, and I don’t need to either,... So I’m trying to learn what I can that seems real and applicable to me, to her, so that I hope by the time that she’s a young adult, if not sooner, hopefully much sooner, we can learn what we need to survive and thrive socially and find good friends. But it’s so hard when my definition and experience of what I need in a friend seems totally counter to what everyone else seems to say a friendship should be. I don’t want to talk about most of the things that others talk about, and I can’t even do it when I try and they reject me for it. I am bored, if not depressed, and anxious, around most social situations, and no matter how I try, no matter what attitude adjustments I try and seeing things from another angle, I can’t seem to make it work better. But maybe one day, maybe.

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anon-luv · 7 years

Text

Hoodie[TaehyungxReader]

Pairing: Taehyung X Reader

Genre: Romance/Angst

Summary: I do not want to give anything away, but I will leave this link to the song I based it on, and add the lyrics in the beginning of the fic :)

Hoodie- Hey Violet

Word Count: 2,900+

Rating: Pg-13 (due to alcohol mention, language, and a few sexual references)

Author’s note: This is my thank you to all my followers. I have reached 200+!! Leave feedback , comments, and likes always make me smile. Also if ya’ll want a part 2 ....comment and let me know..... I think this one deff has potential :) . NOT EDITED!!! Will be editing throughout the day, just wanted to get it out there for ya’ll since I promised. Minor mistakes are probable. HOPE YOU ENJOY!

I can't keep your love I can't keep your kiss Gave you everything and all I got was thisI'm still rocking your hoodie And chewing on the strings It makes me think about you So I wear it when I sleep I kept the broken zipper And cigarette burns Still rocking your hoodie Baby, even though it hurts Still rocking yourI used to put my hand in your pockets (holding on) The smell of your cologne is still on it (but you're still gone) Slip it on over my shoulders Someone I'll never get over Makes me feel a little bit closer to you

A devilish grin on an angelic face.

A thick low voice, for a person who was always high.

A sweetness to every kiss, when behind the curtains your love was bitter.

The smoke from the cigarette between his lips hazing your every thought.

He had been perfect for your ragged heart, once upon a time.

He had been your sweet doom.

Caresses from a cold heart could only provide warmth for so long.

His arm was now wrapped around her shoulders keeping her as close to him as he could, as if someone was going to steal her away. Her fingers interlaced with his slender ones, forming a perfect fit. A shy and secretive smile decorated her face, screaming out to the world that his embrace was meant to be more than just friendly.

You were tired of spying on the couple before you. Light rain had started falling from the sky, unconsciously aiding in covering the tears that travelled down your cheeks in unsynchronized paths. You needed to get out of there, but your feet were glued to the ground by some unknown force. The drops started falling harder as you attempted to zip up the hoodie, only able to bring it up halfway before it gave up in a sudden halt. You pulled on the long sleeves hoping they would be able to provide the extra warmth you needed. A feeling of dread started running through your veins at the idea of possibly getting sick from getting drenched, encouraging your feet to take a step.

It was as if fate had decided to throw you another curveball as the couple started to make their way towards where you were standing. You pulled up the hoodie to cover your head, hoping it would camouflage your tiny frame, from when once upon a time was your entire world.

ONCE UPON A TIME, it sounds like forever ago, but it had actually only been a few weeks ago when you had woken up to a cold bed. He had warned you several times of his ways, as he kissed every inch of your body, blurring the lines of rationality in your brain, leaving you with the fantasy of a future with him.

“(Y/n)” you heard him whisper, cold wind whipping your face. Your eyes reluctantly looked up to meet his brown orbs. A flash of regret that went as fast as it came showed on his face before the girl next to him started questioning him about you.

Taehyung flashed his trademark boxy grin at her, just like he had at you a million times before. “Just an old friend of mine.”

He looked into her eyes to further put his point across, that he belonged exclusively to her. Her and no one else. He had never done that to you. From the very beginning of your relationship, he had made it clear than he was not offering a title, just a temporary position. You were just a for now to him.

Friend…

“Hi Taehyung, nice to see you again,” you said, attempting to hide the broken heartedness in your voice.

“Hi (Y/N), this is….” He guided the girl next to him forward, no longer feeling the need to keep her close. His eyes were cast downward, as if in shame or remorse.

“Lexi, his girlfriend, Nice to finally meet one of his friends” she said giving a smile that you were sure surpassed the beauty and shine of yours. Your eyes lingered on her face, taking in the features of the one who had Taehyung wrapped around her fingers. She held out a petite hand your way and you quickly took it, not wanting to make the situation any more awkward. Her skin was like silk compared to your calloused guitar playing fingers.

“Nice to meet you too,” you said as you played with a hole left from a cigarette burn on the sleeve of your sweater. You let her hand go as if it was burning you, watching Taehyung flinch slightly from behind her. You quickly regained your composure, not wanting to show how completely devastated you truly were. The pride that had always been prominent in your personality taking over. “Anyways, I should be heading back. Band practice and everything…”

Lexi nodded, completely unaware of how tense the atmosphere was. You started walking backwards as you repeatedly waved bye to the couple, unaware of your untied shoelace. As if in slow motion, you felt gravity acting upon you, causing you to subconsciously start a countdown in your head for the moment your body would meet the ground. You felt a familiar set of arms around you, and a warmth that you had been craving since that one lonely morning.

He held you in place until he was sure that you had regained your sense of balance. He knew first-hand that you were a clumsy trouble-magnet, and had always been on the lookout for potential threats. The fact that he was still quick to act before you got into trouble, brought a small smile onto your face.

A few seconds later his arms were but a mere ghost on your figure, and you were reminded of the current situation. Taehyung was here with his girlfriend, Lexi, not with you. Taehyung bent down on one knee catching both you and Lexi by surprise. He quickly tied your shoelaces with a double knot before standing up, the sight striking a familiar chord in your heart. Memories of him tying your shoelaces before heading out of his apartment on cold winter mornings. The way he used to put his beanie on your head, tucking in your wild loose strands, laying a soft kiss on your covered forehead. Wandering like lost penguins around the city, both of you swallowed in layers of clothes, his body pressed against yours, his arm wrapped around your waist, the shared warmth of your bodies blocking out those chilly winds that seemed cold enough to freeze time when you were together.

Your eyes started tearing up, and without another word you walked away, leaving Taehyung and his girlfriend behind. You were not even a few steps away when you heard her giggle, sounding like bells around you, a simple indication that neither your presence nor your departure had been of importance to them.

The morning after he left, confusion had swirled around in your mind. You kept replaying your last moments together. The way he had held you at night, while twirling strands of your hair around his pinky. There were no remnants of his presence in your home the next morning.

First thing you noticed was that his shoes were missing, along with several spare shirts he had left behind in your apartment for emergencies. The blue toothbrush that had been placed beside your pink one was gone, your toothbrush lacking a partner. It was as if the past 5 months had been but a mere hallucination, a delusion from your mind. A perfect person created by your loneliness to fill the void in your heart, at least temporarily. The only imprint confirming that he had indeed been present in your world was the hoodie he had left behind, his scent lingering. Sweet while it lasted.

You had met him in the beginning of summer, as the weather changed, so had your life. Your band had an opportunity to play at a local bar. The buzz of excitement while being on stage consuming you, as the chords being poured from your guitar showed that which could not be said by words alone. You do not remember with clarity how loud the applause had been, or if you had received a standing ovation. All you remember was the first time your eyes landed on his, while you sang the chorus to your latest ballad. The way his eye smile showed that he enjoyed the notes that were swirling around the crowd, and the lyrics that had been written on late nights where insomnia had taken over.

After the show he quickly made his way up to you. He had a strong presence, no ounce of shyness, causing you to be intimidated.

“You were great out there” he said, his deep voice catching you by surprise. If you could record that lone sentence and replay it all day you would.

Your wide eyes taking his beauty up close. He truly was more handsome than you had first anticipated. Yet again, you were not even expecting him to come so forwardly, especially your way. Even if you were the lead singer and guitarist of your band, you tended to also be the shyest one. The other’s personality shadowing your presence. It didn’t matter much to you, you were in it because of the music.

“Taehyung” he said giving you a full tooth smile “and yours precious?”

Your wide eyes searched his face to confirm the question had been directed to you. Your cheeks lightly blushing from being addressed “(Y/N). Nice to Meet you Taehyung”

“The pleasure is all mine. I think you are seeing your new number one fan” he said causing your heart to skip a beat.

Your mouth taking over before your brain could “I’m not even sure if I even have fans” You closed your mouth right away, realizing how lame you must have sounded right now.

“Ahh…. well …..you see I think it is quite the contrary. Everyone in my group was talking about how hot the lead singer was” he said winking your way.

Your cheeks were now full on tomatoes “Well...I ….Umm….Don’t know about that”

“Well I guess, I will have to show you then huh?? We can’t have a pretty talented young lady with low self esteem” he said getting closer.

“I ...you are hot...wait no...I mean is it hot in here” you said trying to regain some sort of composure.

Just like that his rectangular angelic smile had melted your insides, and there was no going back.

You did not want to go back to your lonely apartment after watching the happiness radiating off of Taehyung with Lexi. You needed something to numb out the little voice in your head that kept repeating how much of an idiot you had been to believe a man like that could ever fall for a girl like you.

The music store was closed due to the upcoming holidays, the bar was empty and the booming music had been replaced with carols, reminding you of the lonely celebratory days ahead. Christmas had seemed bearable for once in your life, as you thought of Taehyung's smile as he opened his presents that you had bought way too ahead of time. You had believed that he would be there to kiss you at midnight during the new years. Valentine’s day would be spend for sure locked in your studio apartment, with chocolate wrappers thrown across the floor, chocolates purchased by you. No gifts, no smiles, no kisses. Nothing to look forward to without him.

Giving up on the lack of options to spend/waste your time away, you decided that buying alcohol and taking it back to your apartment to sulk, was probably the best idea yet. You did not want to drink and cry yourself to death in public.

The walk to your apartment seemed endless as the winter air just grew colder. Your trembling teeth and numb fingers failing at even providing a hint of warmth at this point. Curse mother nature. Curse fate. Curse Luck. Curse Love.

Your old apartment building was always being remodeled in one way or other. Much to your “luck” today it was the elevators that were down. You cursed luck once again as you took the first step up the stairs. You walked up slowly not looking forward to being in your silent, most likely freezing, apartment.

You opened the door, closed it with a slam, and jumped quickly on your bed burying yourself deeply within the covers. Taehyung used to love hiding underneath them to scare you after a long day of work. After his failed attempt he would always suggest building a fort with the pillows and blankets. The mess around your apartment made it alot more homier so you always caved into his crazy childish games, especially if you knew the stuff that happened inside the fort when it was done. The heat inside it was always unbearable once the deed was done, but Taehyung never pushed you away after sex, he had always been a cuddler.

You closed your eyes as the tears started spilling out uncontrollably. Your hand blindly looking for the bottle that had been bought just screaming to get consumed. The bitter taste of the liquid in your mouth was honey to the pain. It soothed the crevices that have been left after his departure.

Would you have ever been enough for him??

In another life would he have stayed with you??

What could you have changed to make him stay??

Did he even care??

Taehyung had always been easy for you to read. His emotions always giving themselves away through his eyes. He had always been pretty expressive with his feelings, he had a lack of consideration when it came to stating opinions, and his tongue was a loose noodle always stating what was on his mind , not caring of those around him. Today though he had been closed off. The only feeling you were able to decypher was remorse.

You had forgotten that you were wearing his hoodie, and now you have come to the conclusion that you had given him the perfect image of your broken self. The hoodie had become an extension of yourself. The only way you were able to sleep or function was when it was nearby. Like a baby with a safety blanket, it gave you a sense of grounding.

You were so thankful he hadn’t asked for it back. Your scent had for the most part taken over the old garment on your shoulders, but if you really inhaled you could still smell the cologne you had bought for him on his birthday.

You took a long sip of the adult juice that was almost on empty, silently wishing you had gotten another bottle.

“Why is Rum always gone?” you said imitating Captain Jack sparrow and laughing to yourself. You were delusional, a complete wreck.

Such a sad excuse for a girl.

Maybe that was why Taehyung had left.

You sighed to yourself as you laid on your bed, your ceiling now spining from the alcohol consumption.

A silent tune making its way to your head. You closed your eyes trying to embrace the memory of Taehyung taking care of you everytime you had a bit too much to drink. He always had a lullaby he would sing in his deep melodic voice. You remember the surprise etched on your face the first time he had sang along to your guitar playing. If you thought he couldn’t be more perfect you were proven wrong the first note that came out of his mouth.

In love. You had been completely head over heels in love with this man. Every action in your relationship screamed it out loud to the four winds, but the deep voice you had fallen for had always stated otherwise.

“I do not believe in relationships….too restricting….makes every action feel forced” his deep voice had said. He had said it to you the first time he took you out to go mini golfing. The stars had shown brightly that night causing the heaviness of that statement to go unnoticed. You were uncaring about a future with him back then, but now as you look back you laugh at the naive girl you were once.

Love songs you had written before Taehyung had the innocent words of an unexperienced teenager who read way too many chic novels. Love songs after Taehyung were full of torment, addiction, a sense of loss of one self. It was chaotic and raw. Your bandmates were more than impressed with the evolution of your songwriting. The success of your group taking a leap, and even getting your a small contract with a record company. Taehyung had been happy for you, took you out to your favorite diner. He fed you fries with mayo, and ordered your favorite sundae and let you have the last bite.

He seemed happy…..why did he leave??

Were his smiles, kisses, and caresses a lie?? Was he just faking it??

The waterworks and alcohol had broken down your body, your beaten heart now in a relaxed beat. Crying yourself to sleep had become a habit of yours.

The early morning rays were streaming an orange glow behind your eyelids. You buried yourself deeper into the warmth of your bed. A heavy weight preventing you from stirring too much. Your sleepy brain not catching up quickly with the information of the presence beside you. Your hand searching and meeting up with a solid figure beside you. You sat up quickly, not daring to look anywhere but straight ahead.

By the entrance, accompanying your set of shoes was another familiar set. You stiffly laid back down on your bed, concluding that you had woken up drunker than you had gone to sleep the night before. The “person” beside you not wasting time in wrapping his arm around you once again. Slowly you moved your head to face what/who had been laying beside you.

Your mind went blank. Your breath hitched. Your heartbeat like bass in your ears.

Was it a dream?? Because all you could see were…..

Brown orbs, beautiful brown orbs.

#bts #bts fanfic #kkreationsnet #kreativewritersnet #bts scenarios #bts angst #bts romance #bts badboy au #bts badboy #kim taehyung #bts taehyung #taehyung fanfic #v fanfic #taehyung scenario #taehyung drabble #kpop #kpop fanfic #kpop fan fiction #kpopo scenario

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imanabsolutenerd · 7 years

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Dog Sees God: Ghost AU (CB/Beethoven)

Yo yo this is Dog Sees God fan fiction btw. Lmao I’d call this a sneak peak but it’s like most of the first chapter written. But not all of the chapter. Haha, I just thought I should post it since I’ve been writing it for a long while. So here you go. I hope it’s not too terrible aaaaah Also I don’t have a title for this fan fiction?? Anyone have an idea, I’m terrible at titles.

Anyways! Enjoy!

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Beethoven felt himself wake up. As he slowly slipped into consciousness he surprisingly didn't feel an ache rise to his head, or dread creep up his chest. Like most mornings. As he slowly opened his eyes, they were not crusty and tried with bags hanging under them like always. He was lying down on his back and staring straight up. Bright white was the only visible thing in sight.

Before the thought of heaven really came to mind, Beethoven briefly wondered if he was alive, in a hospital and doctors were the ones shining such a bright light upon him. He wondered if he failed to die. When he overdosed on whatever of his mother's prescription pills, he dreaded surviving more than anything. He had nothing to live for, and if perhaps, he was alive, he didn't want to face people looking at him with pity and disgust. Looking at him because there was something wrong with him like, they would after they found out about his father. It would be like CB said before, awkward for everyone, but mostly awkward for Beethoven.

As his vision cleared he got use to his environment . He realized, wherever he was, it wasn’t the real world. Maybe he was in heaven, or this was all a dream. Perhaps he did survive after all and his imagination was occupying him through his slumber. Could he be in a coma? Is it possible to dream whilst in a coma? Beethoven exhaled and tried to slow down his questioning thoughts.

He sat himself up slowly, and it was when he felt absolutely no pain in his hands that Beethoven knew he was dead.

Everything was too real. He lifted his hands and interlocked his fingers, then rested his forehead down upon them. Everything was real, it wasn't his imagination. His imagination wouldn't allow him to create a dream such as wonderful as this.

He sighed in what felt like relief. Beethoven couldn't really pinpoint his emotions right now. But he was dead. Now, what he didn't know, was where he exactly was. Everything around him was just white.

Was he in heaven? He hoped so. Beethoven didn't overthink too much about the afterlife when he chugged down the pills. He just thought anywhere but here would be better. His life was no longer worth living. There had to be some sort of redeeming reward for living a life such as his own.

Taking a deep breath, Beethoven rested his shoulders and closed his eyes. He felt relaxed and completely free of stress since what felt like years. He gently smiled. It felt nice.

As soon as he opened his eyes it wasn't pure white that covered his vision. No, he seemed to be inside a church. He was sitting in a coffin. He looks to his left and faced a couple dozen people sitting on church benches. He looked to his right and there was a glass work are of jesus and the cross.

What the hell? Did he just wake up at his own funeral? Did he just comeback from the dead? Did God gave him a second chance?

After jumping out of the coffin Beethoven looked around. The people in church all seemed saddened, grim or plain bored. Some seemed on the verge of falling asleep. But no one noticed Beethoven as he stood on his feet, facing them all with shock and confusion.

He realized that he wasn’t alive. He was still dead, no one in the room could see him. There couldn't be any other logical explanation. Beethoven was a ghost. A priest was speaking as Beethoven continued to stare around his surroundings, trying to figure out what the fuck was going on. He was dead right? But still on earth. He came to the conclusion that he was a ghost. Technically. Either that or he rosé from the dead but was completely invisible.

Beethoven looked around to see who he was at his funeral. His mother was there of course, along with a couple of aunts, uncles and cousins who all never talked to Beethoven all that much. He still appreciated their presence.

Beethoven smiled fondly when he saw his grandmother and his cousin Ashley. They were the only two people who really engaged with him during family reunions. His grandmother was nice. When she would visit she would tell him stories as he played the piano. And Ashley was genuinely kind to him, not rude or dismissive. And they both didn't treat Beethoven differently after his entire family found out about him and his father. It was a shame that Beethoven didn't see the two much.

But they were present at his funeral, and Beethoven was appreciative and felt a faint feeling of happiness. If there were any family members he wanted to be at his funeral, it was those two.

However, now Beethoven busied himself by looking for someone else. CB. He started walking around the church, scanning each row of people sitting down on the wooden benches, in search for CB. Who was... his boyfriend. And his friend.

His only friend.

CB's sister was there, which Beethoven probably should've expected. And surprisingly, Marcy and Tricia were there. Beethoven grimaced when he saw Matt's face. Excluding CB's sister, they we're all probably forced to go to the funeral by their parents. But CB wasn't present. Then everyone started walking outside and people were caring his coffin to his gravestone. Beethoven almost shivered at the thought of being locked in a coffin and buried alive deep under ground. Unable to escape. He much would have rather been cremated.

But Beethoven didn't think about that too much. He walked outside with the rest of everyone. It was bright outside but surprisingly not enough to harm Beethoven's eyes. As he walked with the group of people, going completely unnoticed, he circled around them and searched for CB. Eyes scanning the same people over and over.

Beethoven eventually came an unenviable conclusion, CB, his boyfriend, his only friend, the only person to ever truly make him happy for the first time in years, didn't show up show up to his funeral. And that hurt. After the vows, the funeral was over and everyone left. Beethoven decided to follow CB's sister home. It sounded stalker-ish, creepy, but Beethoven felt like he had to see CB.

~***~

Beethoven's been to CB's house only once. And it was the night of the party, after they kissed and slept together.

Once they arrived at the sibling's home, CB's sister opened the door. And they walked inside. The place looked cleaned than it did when Beethoven first... visited. Perhaps because CB's parents were actually present. CB's sister walked upstairs than down the hall to what Beethoven assumed was her room. He slowly followed her up the stairs and stopped when he got to the top. He was very hesitant to see CB and didn't exactly know why. Beethoven took a deep breath and closed his eyes. It was surprisingly easy to relax himself. He opened his eyes and began to slowly approach CB's door. Then CB's sister walked right through him. Beethoven jumped in shock- not use to the feeling of people fading though him. He had more questions, so he was invisible and untouchable to humans and all life, but not to objects? Because he still felt the ground on his feet, the clothes on his back. Beethoven's wonders were soon forgotten fort the moment when he saw CB's sister at her brother's door. She looked hesitant. Beethoven walked up to her as she turned the door knob and opened the door. She took two steps in and was hesitant to speak. Beethoven stood at the end of the door as he looked around CB's room. It took a moment for him to realize CB was on the bed, body completely covered by blankets. He was facing the opposite side of the doorway. The room seemed more messy than what Beethoven last remembered. "CB." She finally spoke. "What?" CB grumbled in an irritated but mainly exhausted voiced. Beethoven stood there at the door as he watched the siblings exchange. "You- you should come to school tomorrow. It's been almost a week and- and..." She trailed off. "Mom and Dad want you to go back tomorrow, okay? I'm sorry it's just-" "Fine." He cut her off. "Whatever." And CB's sister still stayed there. CB could feel her presence. "You can go now." "CB," She walked towards him. "I know it's hard, because you two were close-" And attempted to comfort her older brother. "I don't care." "And- you did care about him. He was your friend-" "Sally." CB shuffled through the blankets awkwardly as he turned around and glared at her. "Just- just leave okay?" Just leave it, I don't want to talk about him, okay? Beethoven frowned. CB looked exhausted, depressed, lost. CB's sister only looked at him sadly as she tried to ignore the irritation she felt due to her brother. He was grieving after all. She huffed and turned around "Fine. Whatever, Charles." Beethoven watch her as she lazily waved her hand and walked out.

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Hnnnnnnn idk how i feel about this im sorry if it’s shit hkrsghasdlhsf

#dog sees god #peanuts #charlie brown #CB #Beethoven #theatre #writing #fan fiction #ghost #au #alternate universe #excerpt from a story i'll never write #fan fic

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taotrooper · 7 years

Text

Everlasting Flower: The Library (1)

Hey there, remember this fic universe? Yes, it’s back! I still need to write the rest of this story, I’m still sorting my ideas, and school’s going to kick my ass soon. However, here’s the beginning of something everyone has been dying to read, and it’s taken me ages between the writer’s block and my own indecision. I first wanted to tell the story of the setting first, but screw it. I hope you guys love it! I’ll try to have the second part done as soon as I can. There was too much going on, which is why I stopped it here.

Everlasting Flower (masterpost, tag, AO3 series) is an AU in which Ouryuu allowed Zeno’s blood to give Kaya a kind of immortality.

Chapter summary: In which Yoon’s day goes splendidly until Zeno introduces his wife in the vaguest, most confusing manner. It happens between the Lush Forest arc and the Sei arc.

Also of interest for @akayona-prompts‘ prompt, “How about Kaya meeting the Dark Dragon and the Happy Hungry Bunch?”

"Hey! Zeno brought an elderly lady!"

It was not an old lady at all. His hands were on the shoulders of a girl that looked just a little older than Yoon. Probably around Yona's age, or Shin-ah and Hak's at most. She didn't seem fazed by Zeno's stupid joke. At least the rest of the group looked as mortified as Yoon felt.

"Zeno-kun, that's only cute when it's the other way around," Jae-ha said, and then he turned to the girl. "I apologize on his behalf."

"Oh, that's okay!" she beamed. "I thought it was funny, actually!"

Yoon had seen so many sightings in their journey, but this was the most beautiful place he had ever seen in his whole life.

His feet moved on their own towards the nearest shelf. With reverence, his fingers reached to the tomes and stroke their rugged spine. The old smell of paper and parchment and ink rushed in and brought him to the first time Ik-soo gave him a book. He put the memory aside and squinted his eyes to read the faded titles. It seemed to be the foreign literature section since he was unfamiliar with the characters. That only made him more excited. What other wonders awaited him in the other identical shelves that filled the large hall?

He blinked out of his blissful trance to see the others. Zeno was containing his laughter, but everyone was in awe as well. Even Hak, who didn't seem to be a book lover, and Shin-ah, who was barely learning how to read, seemed impressed. Jae-ha looked almost as delighted as Yoon. Kija eventually called them to a wall with a cry that made a woman behind a desk make a "shhhh" noise with pursed lips.

"S-sorry," he apologized with a bow. "Everyone, look at this mural!"

The seven gathered next to Kija and examined it. The painting depicted five men. Their faces weren't in detail, the style being minimalist and focused more on the clothing and hair. The central figure, with the fanciest outfit, had an abundant mass of crimson locks that swayed in the air. It was much longer, but it was just like Yona's in an obvious glaring way.

No one said who they were aloud, but the subject was obvious from their hair colors. Zeno's golden mane was also spot on, and his art double was shorter than his companions.

"Were they...?" Kija began, one of his sharp nails pointing at a muscular white-haired man with an equally clawed white hand.

"Yup, they looked like that," Zeno nodded with a nostalgic smile. "I described them to the artist."

"It's a beautiful piece of art," Jae-ha said.

"Zeno didn't commission it. A librarian from long ago had the idea and I just went along with it. Of course, other representations of the Dragon Warriors are more popular, but this one's the best to me. Liberties are to be expected though, after the centuries."

Yoon glanced at Yona. Her expression was hard to figure out. She never talked about how she felt in regard to being a dragon god king's reincarnation. And it was her late father, that neglectful king Il whom Yoon disliked so much in the past, who had told her the myth of Hiryuu. How did that mural make her feel? Before he could think about it more or even ask her, she looked away and smiled at Zeno.

"Should we continue, Zeno?" she whispered. That's right, they had come to Senkyo on his request! The oldest of them had been the one to guide them into the building. And even though Yoon was itching to check out the rest of the bookshelves, they were still carrying their travel bags on their backs.

"Yup, sure!"

He took them to the series of desks where the shush had come from. A sturdy and stern lady in her fifties looked at them, squinting. She was probably near-sighted, Yoon assumed.

"Hello!" Zeno greeted with a huge smile, not caring about the silence he was breaking. He took out his medallion from his robes' pocket to show it around. "Long time no see, Miss."

The woman's eyes widened but she didn't lose her cool demeanor. "Lord Ouryuu, welcome," she whispered with a tinge of fervor. "How fortunate to see you again in my lifetime."

"Oh, come on, you're still pretty young," he chuckled, "and it's probably only been like seventeen years at most?" That amount seemed oddly specific to Yoon, but he bit his tongue and tried not to linger on theories of international wars or newborn princesses.

"It's fortunate regardless. Speaking of fortune, Lady Hummingbird has been expecting you."

"Ah, is that so?" Zeno's eyes lit up. "Good, I should meet with her. When did she arrive?"

"A week ago."

"Oh, okay. Where is she right now?"

"Hold on a second. Mai-chan, is the Lady in the back room?"

"No, ma'am," said a girl carrying books to a shelf, "I saw her going out. She said she was going to the marketplace for the afternoon."

"Thanks!" Zeno bowed to the women. "Everyone, let me take you to our room!"

"Our room?" Shin-ah cocked his head.

"Wait, we're staying here?" Yoon almost jumped with excitement. "Are the librarians fine with it?"

"Yup, yup." Zeno shook a hand. "This belongs to the city now, but my wife was the owner of this place at some point. The attic is still free for us to use."

"Wait, really?"

"Remember what I told you guys? Ouryuu doesn't have a village... but he has a headquarters on top of a library!"

Maybe it was the desire to read talking but, for the first time ever, Yoon thought Zeno was really cool.

They ascended the stairs carefully, with Zeno chatting in the front and answering to Kija and Yona's questions. Yoon had stopped paying attention, his mind still in the main hall with its many bookshelves. They finally reached a door that was precariously dancing on its hinges, not too hard to open and not even locked.

"Ah, loose again," Zeno shrugged and made a gesture towards the passageway. "Anyway, make yourselves comfy!"

Yoon's first impression was that it was unusually clean. Not a single cobweb. His finger swept through the surface of one of the many wooden crates and chests that laid anywhere, in search of dust. Just some specks, but not the coat of filth he would have expected in Zeno's territory. Perhaps the librarians maintained the tidiness for him, or it had been that Hummingbird person. His eyes inspected the back of the attic: only one bed, an old desk cluttered with writing utensils and trinkets and a flowerpot, and even more bookshelves. Light shined through a window between the desk and the bed.

"If we move these crates," Yoon said, "we could camp in the middle of the room tonight."

"Allow me," Kija smiled and set himself to work. Hak, Jae-ha, and Shin-ah joined him after setting their bags on the floor. Yona insisted to drag the smaller chests towards a wall. Zeno just looked around as he sat on the edge of the double bed, unhelpful. Normally Yoon would have disapproved, but... he figured being there shouldn't be easy for his friend. With curiosity, the boy stopped the supervision and approached the bookshelves. He couldn't silence the gasp in his throat.

Most of the books were medicine-related textbooks. He even saw the book Ik-soo had found among them. His urge to read was rising again, more powerful than ever. Forget the chests, this was the real treasure of the room! Before he knew it, one treatise on wound care was in his hands. That wasn't very polite; they probably were spares from the library's collection.

"Zeno... may I...?"

"Hmmm?" Zeno tilted his head and grinned when he saw the book. "Oh, sure! I mean, none of those are Zeno's but I'm sure my wife wouldn't mind at all! Knock yourself out!"

A weight like a stone sank inside Yoon's stomach. He would read that book senselessly whenever they had some free time regardless, but there was a tinge of guilt for reminding Zeno once again of his spouse, for remembering the reason they were there. He nodded with respect.

Once they had set their belongings, Zeno got up with a hop.

"Alright! I have to go to the marketplace. You guys don't have to come with Zeno if you don't want to. Feel free to rest here! We'll be back soon!"

Wait, Yoon pondered. What about his wife?

"Oh right, Lady Hummingbird?" Jae-ha asked. Zeno's smile got wider. Yoon had forgotten about the message from the librarian. Of course a living friend would get priority over a tomb.

The boy looked at the book in his hands. Then he stared at his travel satchel. Argh, why did he have to be so responsible?

"Tsk, guess I'm going to the marketplace," Yoon sighed. "We're short on money so we should sell some of my medicines while Zeno talks to this person." He noticed that his friends were raising eyebrows. "I know, I know, it's a pain but I can read these books later! This has more priority."

"Aww, Yoon!" Yona beamed at him. "We'll help you out."

"He's going to force us anyway," Hak shrugged.

"You got that right," Yoon said as he crossed his arms. "And you're helping too, Zeno. Don't think you're getting free from it just because you're respected in this town."

"Fiiiiiiiine~. I know just the best customer," Zeno smirked.

As they galloped downstairs and into the street again, leaving the bookshelves and Hiryuu's mural behind, Yoon thought once more about Zeno's insistence to go to this city.

The flames of the campfire flickered and danced in front of Zeno's eyes, as warm as the hearts of the kids, as warm as the stew in their bowls. Their playful voices and the sounds of crickets made music with the burning wood. Such a peaceful supper, such a peaceful night. He was as content as his own stomach. He —and Kaya— had called plenty of people their family over the millennia, but these were the ones he had been waiting for. It had been worth it, absolutely, especially now that they knew who he was.

"So where should we go now?" the Lad asked, always responsible.

"I don't know," the Miss said after slurping the remaining broth in her bowl. "Now that Shin-ah recovered, it's alright if we take the road again, right?"

Seiryuu shrank further inside his fur, avoiding their stares. His hand toyed with the squirrel's little ears with a nervous tremor. That ghost of his ancestor had been a naughty boy, but thankfully none of them held a grudge against him for possessing their little brother.

Zeno looked above. It had only been a new moon recently, so he could only see a thin silver slice of the growing moon above them. He made a quick, unsure calculation, as he usually did when he and his beloved traveled on separate ways: He last kissed Kaya after the others left Awa, right? There was a full moon back then. Yes, it should be time now, or perhaps one month short? Whatever, just as well.

"Hey..." he said, still staring at the moon, nocturnal breeze caressing his hair. "If we don't have a destination, could we... stop by Senkyo next? There's something important Zeno needs to do."

"Senkyo?" he heard several voices murmuring in confusion. He looked down, back to them.

"Where is that?" asked Hakuryuu.

"Northeastern Water Tribe, I think," the Mister said. "Near the Wind Tribe outskirts."

"Ah!" the Lad gasped, stars in his eyes. "Isn't that the city with the library?! Ik-soo has told me about it!"

"Library?" the Miss blinked.

"Yes! The place is famous because it has the only public library in Kouka! Anyone can go there and read their books! I've always dreamed about going there!"

"I've heard of it too," Ryokuryuu grinned, "and I wouldn't mind taking a look either."

"But what business can Zeno have there?" The boy stroke his chin. "Unless... are we going to research about the Sword and the Shield from the Prophecy? Is there a clue there? Is it time?"

"What?" Zeno laughed. "No, there's no such books or parchments for that! At least that I know of!"

The Lad and Hakuryuu seemed disappointed.

"Then why are we going there?" the Miss asked. "It must be important if Zeno asks us to go."

"Well, kinda," he nodded. He thought about Kaya and her sweet face, as bright as the firelight in the night. He couldn't help but soften his grin into a tender, nostalgic smile. "Hmmm, how should I explain it?" Saying that he must get his woman to drink a few drops of his blood every four moons at most would be too weird. He took a cuter, more sensible approach. Gave it the relaxing effect the city had on Kaya whenever they took a break from their trips. "Senkyo... is my wife's resting place, see? I want you guys to meet her. I know she'll be so happy to have all of us visiting!"

The silence would have been deafening if not for the crickets.

"Oh," the princess finally broke it with a sad smile of her own. "Yes, of course. We'd love to meet her, Zeno."

"It'll be an honor," Hakuryuu agreed.

Was it his impression or was there pity in their eyes? How come? Had they realized he had been apart for a few months from his wife and they felt bad for him? That was really sweet of them. Three or four months were nothing to him and Kaya, but a lot happened to normal mortal people in such a short time so it could be considered an eternity to them.

Oh well, they were going to stop being sad once they met her!

Zeno walked around the maze of market stands and dodged every person in the crowd after some quick scrutiny. This commercial area wasn't as massive as the Wanderer's Market they had visited before, and it had much less foreigners, but there were still plenty of people transiting. As the town was in the limits between two tribes, their trade system had prospered for reasons beyond the helpful allure of its famous library.

He finally caught sight of a familiar hairstyle from the distance. It was, no doubt about it, her short dark brown hair bouncing as she walked. He also recognized the casual kimono she was wearing.

"Kayaaaaaa!"

She turned and indeed, it was her. She quickly made her way with a pleased expression that was as cute as always. He met her with a hug and a squeeze. The scent of earth, herbs, and jasmine on her were so comforting. They were home.

"Sorry I kept you waiting."

"It's alright," she smiled, "the situation lately has made traveling a bit hard. And I'm sure you guys were pretty busy!"

"You have no idea," Zeno smirked as he let go.

"Um, did you come alone?" She looked around them.

"Nah, I brought everyone. They set up a stand and they're selling medicine. Need some supplies? Because we reaaaally need the money!"

"I was gonna shop before leaving town but I can take a look. I don't want this old man of a husband and his happy hungry bunch to starve, after all."

Zeno raised his brow. He was almost certain he hadn't mentioned their little bandit group on the letter he left for her, so that meant she had heard about it and figured it was them. As expected from Kaya!

"It's a good name for a group, right?" he beamed. "Luckily we're much less hungry now but we'll appreciate your patronage."

"Then let's go!" she said as she took his arm and pulled him forward.

"Wait, wait, wrong direction," he managed to say. She stopped dragging him and let him lead the way. "Old ladies these days are so pushy."

"Hahaha, I was pulling, not pushing. These robes," she touched the sleeve of the arm she was clinging to. "Are the orange and off-white ones dirty or...?"

"Or."

"Oh, Zeno!" she sighed. "They had lasted so long and they were so pretty!"

"All clothes that can be worn will return to the Heavens."

"Did you tell them before...?"

She stopped walking. Zeno could feel the sweat on his forehead.

"Zeno, no!"

"I didn't know how to..." He scratched his cheek. "This seemed easier... Waiting until I had a chance to protect them... Being warriors and all."

She let go of his arm. The look in Kaya's eyes was the usual 'I can't leave you unsupervised' disappointed glance of a wife she had mastered skillfully. After shaking her head, her eyes were closed, the pout was gone, and a cheery big smile replaced it. Uh oh.

"No hugs for the rest of the day, no dessert tonight, and you're apologizing to them for making them cry." Zeno bit his lower lip and grazed skin with his dragon fangs. There she was, hitting right were it hurt. She softened her grin. "Should we meet them now?"

It had been a good day for Yoon. Senkyo's open marketplace was quite decent for business and Hak's charisma had been bringing clients to his blanket on the ground. The young ladies brought by him were less aggressive than in other markets, too. He was certain he would amass enough money for rice, salt, and the currently coveted fabric —for a new tent and Zeno's new need for spare outfits, which was becoming more than a pain. At this rhythm of self-destruction, he would have to get him a full store-made set of robes in the next city. That if they could afford it.

Speaking of the devil, or more like the dragon, Yoon heard the deceivingly youthful voice of Zeno, which made him turn.

"Hey! Zeno brought an elderly lady!"

"Zeno-kun, that's only cute when it's the other way around," Jae-ha said, and then he turned to the girl. "I apologize on his behalf."

"Oh, that's okay!" she beamed. "I thought it was funny, actually!"

"Anyway, here she is!" Zeno announced. "She's the special meeting!"

"Huh?" Yona blinked. "Ah, then is she Lady Hummingbird?"

"Ahahaha, you heard the nickname the librarians gave me? They like to make everything poetic." The girl bowed. "My name is Kaya, and it's very nice to finally meet Zeno's family!"

Everyone introduced themselves. She made a good first impression. Even Shin-ah, despite his introverted ways, seemed more at ease with her than, for instance, with Lili or any of their new friends during their journey. She just exuded a comforting, sweet aura very similar to Zeno's.

"I'm also here to buy some stuff." She knelt next to Yoon. "Zeno told me you make medicine. May I see?"

Yoon nodded and showed her his wares with seasoned experience. She picked the anti-inflammatory, the fever medicine, the cough drops, and the pain killers... and she asked at least three units of each. He just stared in horror.

"I-Is that for someone in particular?"

"What? No, no, no. Hasn't Zeno told you? I'm a healer."

Zeno hadn't told them anything at all about her, but Yoon wasn't going to tell her that. In fact, their mutual friend had wandered off to look for real elderly ladies to bring as customers.

"Oh! Thank goodness, I was getting worried about a person needing all of these at once."

"Haha, it's okay!" She took out her purse. "I usually make my own medicines with herbs from the road like you, but I'm going to Sensui next and I need all the extra supplies I can get." Sensui, huh? Yoon thought. She's probably going to treat the nadai victims, then. Yona seemed to read his mind.

"Ah, is it for nadai?"

"Yeah, they're looking for doctors for the nadai clinics. In fact, if you guys also have some spare ingredients for sale I'd love to buy them as well."

"I'll see what I can do," Yoon said. "I can't really give you everything I have because these rare beasts could get sick or wounded any time now."

"Ah, then it's okay," Kaya said. She opened one of the little bags to examine the goods. "Just the medicines are fine. By the way, is this recipe from Doku's handbook?" Yoon's eyes widened and his cheeks blushed. How could she tell the author of his treasured book just like that? "It is? I can tell by the gingery smell. It's a good formula."

"Yeah, so far it hasn't let me down."

"Want a secret? Add valerian to the mix. Just half a petal is enough. It doesn't cancel the effects and it just enhances the sedating agents."

"T-That's actually a great idea!" Yoon agreed.

"It makes the patient drowsier though, so you might want to warn them to take it better at night or when they're not going to do anything important."

"Thanks for the tip! That makes sense." It felt great to talk to an intellectual peer around his age with similar interests. More customers arrived, so Yoon sadly couldn't talk to Kaya until they were gone. Ao had positioned on Kaya's shoulder and she giggled as she pet the squirrel.

"Were you guys traveling around the Fire Tribe by any chance? I went to this little village full of soldiers to help with the plague, and they kept talking about a cute, talented boy healer called Yoon."

"That was definitely our Yoon," Yona clapped.

"Well, I'd say I'm more handsome than cute," he dismissed the compliment, cheeks and ears on fire.

"Or both," Kaya giggled some more. He thought those two girls together were about to kill him, but nothing prepared him to Jae-ha pulling him aside to talk in private, men only according to him. Kija hovered around but didn't form part of the two-person circle.

"Yoon-kun, you're red. Is it me or Kaya-chan is flirting with you?"

"...What?" Yoon just stared at him in disbelief. "Can't people just call me handsome without you assuming weird things?"

"She was paying a lot of attention to you ever since Zeno brought her."

"Because they're both healers, Jae-ha!" Kija intervened. "I'm with Yoon here. She's just being really friendly and having fun since they have a lot in common."

"You two know nothing about women. In any case just let me tease the boy in peace, Kija-kun, and let him do whatever he wants."

So he admits he's teasing, Yoon sighed and turned back to the stand. Of course Kaya was cute and she seemed very compassionate and smart and capable. She was much better than any good-for-nothing man who wanted to marry him because he cooked well. But it was a silly notion... they were both traveling and they had their priorities sorted out. As he sat down, she greeted him by waving her hand, and then she went back to talking to Shin-ah and Yona. He had no time to have a crush on anyone! Not even on someone this lovely!

Jae-ha let him work for a few minutes before making his relentless attempts more public.

"Kaya-chan," he said as he put his arm around her shoulders. "I'm just curious here. What would you say is your type of man?"

Everyone in the stand, even Yona and Shin-ah who hadn't heard the conversation, just glared at him. Kaya restrained a chuckle.

"Is this flirting? Because Zeno warned me this might happen with you."

The man immediately removed his arm and shook his head with a nervous smile, after muttering a couple of nos.

"Well," she poked at her own chin with her index finger," it's not like it matters much because I'm taken, but okay. Someone who's kind and sweet. I prefer soft faces on the cute side rather than manly handsome ones. Smaller built, not overly muscular or tall." Damn, that seemed targeted at Jae-ha's type. She continued. "Oh, and I prefer men who are older than me! A bit of an age difference if possible." And that... seemed targeted at Yoon, a fifteen year-old boy.

A specific image of a middle-aged short man with a belly and already balding, came to Yoon's mind. She certainly had strange tastes.

"I-Is that so?" Jae-ha kept grinning despite everything, his frown tense.

"Yeah! So you guys are all really pretty but too young for me."

"No one has asked you that," Kija sighed.

"So like my father," Yona murmured, deep in thought.

"Nah, I don't think so..." Kaya shrugged, perhaps too certain. Did she know it was King Il? What had Zeno, or perhaps even that idiot second Kan son, told her about them? Oh, that town and the knowledgeable librarians and Zeno suddenly having a more tangible life was making Yoon a bit too paranoid.

"Zeno and the Mister are back with someone in need!" Indeed, they were escorting an old man with arthritis who could barely walk. Yoon attended to him, glad to have a distraction. Kaya turned to Zeno, who crouched between her and Yona as if he had been working hard at all.

However, that man was the last client they got as the marketplace was about to close. The sun still hadn't begun to go down but guards were asking all stands to wrap it up.

"Ah, I guess we came too late," Yoon lamented. He packed his things and counted the coins. He found they had earned a good amount in the end, enough for their shopping list and any unexpected expenses in the near future. All and all, he was more than content. Books! Conversations! Money! An excellent day!

An excellent day that would soon turn for the bizarre.

"Let's go back! There's still daylight so I might be able to read something!" Yoon turned on his heels and started walking forward in big strides, with everyone following behind him.

"The Lad is looking forward to it!" Zeno laughed.

"Where are you going now, Kaya?" Yona asked. "We're off to the library."

"I'm going there as well!"

"You must frequent it a lot if the librarians gave you a nickname," Jae-ha said.

"I wouldn't say that. I don't go there a lot but it's the place where I come to rest every now and then, and a bit of a storage room. Sort of like my headquarters?"

'Headquarters'...? That word again. 'Rest' also rang a bell. Yoon stopped and looked back at Kaya. He looked down, and everyone else did with him.

Kaya was holding Zeno's hand.

Wait a second.

"You said you were taken, right?" Jae-ha said.

"Cute faces," said Yona.

"...Kind and sweet," Shin-ah said.

"Not too tall and not too muscular," Kija said.

"Older men and an age difference...!" Yoon said. The mental image of the balding man broke into pieces, to be substituted by a cute eternal seventeen year-old. No way. That's two thousand years old! That's way too much of an age difference, don't you think?!

Besides, wasn't his wife...? No, they were mistaken and she...? No way.

Kaya stared back in surprise and then she glanced at Zeno. She seemed more heartbroken than angry.

"Zeno, could it be? You didn't...?"

"I did!" he cried immediately. "I'm sure I did! That's why I brought them!"

"I thought they knew but..." Her hand released his and she met his eyes. "Then, how much did you tell them about me?"

He sighed. "I was waiting for them to ask me things about you, but they... never did."

"Oh no, don't drag us into your lovers' quarrel," Hak raised his hands, deadpan.

"I did think they were being a bit unexcited and distant..." Kaya pouted, looking like she wanted to cry. "I wondered if I had said something wrong or they were too weirded out."

Zeno made an attempt to pacify her worries with the palms of his hands in a 'stop' sign.

"Zeno..." Kija started, frowning. "If we're here to visit your... I mean, does that mean Kaya is...?"

"Well, yeah? I said she was the special meeting we're here for? Who did you think she was?"

"L-Let's start again, and you're grounded for three more days now." Kaya sighed, her hands laced behind her back. "Hello, everyone. It's a pleasure to finally meet you. My name's Kaya and I'm Zeno's wife."

The confirmation of something they had already figured out didn't stop them all from gaping at her, flabbergasted, their pupils small from the revelation.

#akatsuki no yona #ouryuu zeno #kaya #happy hungry bunch #everlasting flower #$fanfic

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