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violetswritingg · 12 days

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Only in Darkness

Jason Todd X OFC!

Description:

"Only in Darkness can you see the stars."

Marlowe Knight stumbling upon a girl prophesied to end the world and going on the adventure of a life time.

Rating: M (Blood, cannon typical violence, sibling rivalry, scars, torture, trauma, angsttttt)

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Detroit, Michigan

2018

Bleary eyes cracked open, deep as the Pacific Ocean in winter and blood shot. Waves slowly sliding around the dark room and newspaper covered windows. A sense of dread and panic slowly building as her confusion grew.

"Hey sleepy head." Every hair on her exposed arms stood on end, gooseflesh plaguing every inch of open skin. Automatically trying to move away from the bouncing echo pulled at the tender flesh of her bound wrists. The old rope burning her skin red with irritation.

"Everything's okay. I promise." The warm voice, the loving tone she had forced herself to forget ripping through her ears like claws. Drawing blood and demanding attention. A whimper involuntarily fell from her lips as she continued to pull, more violently now, at her restraints. The chair's back digging into her spine just like she remembered, exactly like she had done her best to erase from her head. But not even the most extreme compartmentalization could save her from this.

"He lied! Our entire lives he lied; how could you side with him?!" The voice was paired with a face now, one so painfully familiar she could feel her stomach wanting to empty it's contents all over her shoes. A boy standing at six feet even with midnight black hair and hazel eyes with thick lashes most girls would be jealous of. Darkness crawling in at the edges of his blurry figure, the edges of his waist and shoulders atomizing and reforming over and over.

An armored body suit the color of pitch clinging to the built muscles he had gotten from training since he was barely a teen. Poison green stripes going down the sides of his suit, with matching gloves and mask. Paying homage to his roots and deciding what side of the story he would be on.

The snarl on his chapped lips causing his nose to flair, something that only happened when he was really upset.

"I'm not taking anyone's side. Please Kyle-" Her voice sounded without her moving her lips as the memory audio played out. Her at the mercy of the past. The chocked sob ripping from her throat silently as she was subjected to her own personal hell.

"I should have known, why would the perfect princess want to go against daddy dearest huh? Even with knowing what kind of person he truly is. God! I'm so stupid." The betrayal rung out and sharp, boiling hot tears ran down her face. Knowing what came next and feeling as if she was suffocating. Her chest filling up with a pressure she associated with holding her breath underwater for too long, burning.

"This is going to hurt."

The pain was indescribable.

Her voice box tearing itself to shreds, blood curdling screams filling the otherwise empty warehouse. Her every atom under his bare fingertips being ripped apart and mixed up into a misty version of herself. Being mixed around, tossed, and put back together without a care.

Sirens wailed, flashing red and blue lights filtering in harshly through the newspaper covered windows.

"You're okay. You're okay. Dad's got you. You're okay."

Marlowe's eyes jerked open; face covered in a sheet of ice cold sweat. Choking on an invisible substance as she shot up and out of the computer chair. Muffled chattering entering her ears as she tripped over her feet and fell back onto the ground. Eyes wide and filled with terror as a black and green figure approached her, hands held out and reaching for her.

No, no, no, no.

The Cosmic Staff ran through the mirage, the intense glow burning her eyes almost as bad as the computer screen had done all night. The living weapon swooped down, nudging their wielder and letting out comforting clicks and shifts of light. With her chest heaving Marlowe shakily grabbed onto the Staff's body with a clammy palm and let them pull her to her feet. The Staff holding most of her weight as her knees shook.

"Thanks Cosmo." She breathed, squeezing the Staff appreciatively. "I can always count on you. Huh?" The Staff let out an indignant sound of agreement. Attuned to her every emotion and thought, just as she was to theirs.

The mental-emotional link being formed through intense training, time, and trust. "What time is it?" She let out a breath, looking to the screen on the wall that rivaled the flat screen in the living room. Seeing a bright set of numbers displayed in the corner. A groan passing through lips quietly at the early hour, Marlowe just now realizing how raw her throat was.

She had been screaming again.

That hadn't happened in a while. It only seemed like her nightmares were getting worse the farther the Mist got from her. She had been at a disadvantage from the start but this was the farthest she had been from him since the beginning of her man hunt, her bookstore lead being worthless. Leaving her with hours of footage that was almost a week old, of him doing nothing but eating muffins and working on his laptop.

Picking up the overturned computer chair, she set it on its rolling feet and plopped down into the seat. The Staff across her lap, letting out more sounds of comfort.

"Any ideas Cos?" She asked futilely, knowing she had hit another dead end. Her frustration causing the Staff to bite at her and heat up in her hands. "Sue me, Cos. Fuck." Letting the Staff rest in her lap she brought her hands up to her blood shot ocean eyes and rubbed at them, the dark bags underneath big enough to swallow her face whole.

What now?

~~*~~

When Dick answered his phone on his usual morning commute to work, he didn't expect where it would take him. But being a cop, walking onto crime scenes was normal. However, one in a book store – where seemingly nothing was stolen – and with two uniforms in the hospital... it was safe to say this wasn't a normal crime scene for him.

Not in Detroit at least. Gotham? Just another day on the job – an easy day.

"What happened?" His question was clipped and to the point, the officer running point returning the same curt energy.

"Silent alarm was tripped, two officers responded. Called in backup soon after along with a robbery in progress but the offender took them down and fled before back up units could arrive." The Sargent, all grey hair and stocky shoulders, stopped at the mouth of the hallway leading into the part of the store meant only for employees. A dried puddle of blood at his feet, another smaller one down the hallway, outside an open door.

"The officers?" Dick asked, taking in the dried blood.

"The altercation, as far as we can tell, started over here with Officer Greenway after she interrupted whatever they were doing with the computers. Techs are still going through the hard drives back at the precinct." The Sargent walked down the hall to the slightly smaller pool stain, Dick following and taking in every smear of blood, dent in the wall, or scuff on the laminate floor.

"There was a struggle, the offender took Greenway down. The paramedics rushed her to the hospital, something about brain bleeding. It's not good." A heavy breath of guilt passed through him, the aging man bringing a hand up to his five o'clock shadow. Dick looked back at him from his spot by the open doorway as his spoke again, words muffled by his thick fingers, but still discernable, "I put them on this beat."

"It's not your fault." Dick spoke, eyes softening from the detached air they had, for a split second. But as soon as it happened it was over and he was back to analyzing the scene. "What happened next?"

"Greenway was down, there was a knife wound in Jones's leg. CSU was thinking the offender threw it from here," The Sargent motioned to the pool, turning to the mouth of the hallway with a shake of his head, "Ripped it out on their way out, though Med couldn't tell me if that was before or after they broke two of his ribs and fractured his jaw." Dick, after giving the computers in the room one last glance walked over to stand beside the Sargent. Calculating the distance in his head, his eyebrows shooting up in mild shock.

"Where did the knife land?"

The older policeman looked at Dick like he had a few screws loose but answered anyway, "In his leg... like I just said."

"Where specifically?" Dick clarified, walking over to the larger dried pool of crimson.

"His thigh, I heard one of the EMT's say something about him getting lucky it missed an artery. Lost a decent amount of blood but not enough that it would kill him."

"And they pulled out the knife when they left?" Dick asked, more to himself than anything. Automatically profiling the offender in his head. The mix of aggression and restraint confusing him though.

"Yeah, Greenway's gun was found next to Jones, so I'm thinking the perp got a hold of it in the struggle. Used it to pistol whip Greenway while she was down." The man's teeth grit together in building rage, "It was found beside Jones, no evidence of it going off though." Dick's head tilted slightly, something not sitting right with him.

"Prints?"

"Wiped clean. I hate it when they're smart."

Possible criminal record.

"Not that smart." He muttered under his breath; the person who did this didn't catch the silent alarm. They were either in a rush or just sloppy, but that didn't mix with the sophisticated aspects he was seeing.

They were skilled, there was no denying that. A precision knife throw, from twelve feet, solely meant to incapacitate - in the dark no less - was not an easy feat. He would know. On top of the skill that it took to take down two armed police officers, with the force that had been exerted...

Whoever they were, they've had training.That much was clear to him.

"CSU did find some blood by the wall they believe to be the fucker's who did this. They took samples."

Dick's eyes met the Sargent's, "The offender was hurt?"

"Yeah, Jones was able to get a shot off, GSR on his hands and his gun missing a round confirm that." The Sargent nodded, "We already put out a notice to all the hospitals in the city to look out for GSW's coming into the Emergency rooms."

Trained but borderline incompetent.

"If they aren't dead already." Dick said and the Sargent scoffed out a humorless laugh. His tired cobalt eyes steeling with malice.

"One can only hope."

Dick forced a tight grin and finished up at the crime scene, the Sargent promising that all the relevant files and evidence would be sent his way. Dick's mind consumed with thoughts about what someone would want with whatever was on the computer of a mom and pop book store.

~~*~~

Food.

Laughter and the bell like clinking of spoons against tea cups mixed with the smell of freshly baked blueberry muffins and croissants. Assaulting her senses. A Parisian vibe that hit a little too close to home in the set up and soft music playing overhead. The color scheme a calming combination of sage green, crème, and dark brown. The nostalgia bittersweet, with a hurtful aftertaste. Ghosts dancing in front of her eyes as she approached an indoor table.

Four people, two adults – parents with their kids. One of the children distinctly older than the other, a boy and a girl respectively. The mom the odd one out with her mane of ginger locks in a sea of raven black. Even though Marlowe knew it wasn't real, a chill went up her spine.

"Maybe leave some of the gold medals for the others next time yeah?"

"Oh, leave her alone Jack. We're celebrating remember?"

Marlowe had almost forgotten how much she missed Sadie's - Her mom's - voice. Guilt for ignoring the woman who helped raise her ate at her. Sadie hadn't really done anything to deserve it like her dad had, but for some reason it still hurt to think about her. Bubbly giggles that belonged to her past-self echoed around her head, feeling like sandpaper on skin.

"Miss?" Marlowe's head snapped to the side, where a waitress stood with concern in her eyes. "Is everything okay? Can I get you anything?" Her French accent was a pleasant surprise. And Marlowe automatically responded in the language that had surrounded her almost as much – if not more – than English her whole life.

"Juste en prenant dans l'espace. Cela me rappelle la maison." Marlowe plastered on a soft grin, sitting at the table and ignoring the hallucination atomizing and leaving the table empty. (Translation: "Just taking in the space. Reminds me of home.")

"Ah! Êtes-vous de France?" The waitress got excited.

"Non. Ville d'Opale. Louisiana. Born and Raised." Whether she knew it or not, a spark of warmth flickered in her ocean eyes. Her smile a little less forced. The waitress recognized the name and nodded, her smile and excitement dimming slightly but not leaving entirely.

Opal City, the well know sister city to New Orleans. It's French ties something the city celebrated just as much as New Orleans did theirs. That wasn't what made the city infamous though.

"Have you ever seen Starman?" The waitress asked quietly, leaning in like they were exchanging a secret. A child like glint in her eye.

Starman, it was a name that left Marlowe with a bitter feeling in her chest. And apparently it showed on her face as well. The waitress – Clementine – instantly becoming more reserved as she leaned back and wet her lips nervously.

While the dark aura shocked the server, she could see there was a tiredness there. The girl's shoulders sagging, as if the name Starman was the sky and the girl the cursed Titan forced to carry it.

"A couple times." Marlowe forced out and Clementine didn't push the subject. Quickly taking the teen's order – A double espresso and their breakfast special – and disappearing to the kitchen. Marlowe's eyes trailed out the window beside her, glazing over the street, cars, and pedestrians walking by the corner store across the street. Looking to the sky on instinct, as if she would see the signature golden streak. A sight she used to find comfort in, knowing her dad was there watching over her.

Starman, Jack Knight, her dad, was Opal City's protector once upon a time. Flying around with the Cosmic Staff, welding goggles, and an oil covered black leather duster jacket.

There had been other Starmen before him. Two in fact, neither of which she had met.

The first Starman, her grandfather, Ted. He dressed up as if he was the physical embodiment of Christmas – as in bright red body suit with a gold star on his chest, neon green superhero undies on the outside and everything. The old time photos of him from the forties gave Marlowe some serious second hand embarrassment. But he was the one who created the Staff his successors use to this day, so...

The second Starman was her uncle, David, who took over once her grandfather retired. He donned the obnoxious suit for all of two weeks. Until he died.

Until he was killed.

A final act of revenge by The Mist, Ted's archnemesis that David inherited when he picked up the Staff. Though The Mist hadn't been the one dolling out the bitter pill – the sick fuck made his kids do his dirty work – he made sure it had been swallowed before he himself bit the bullet and went totally senile in his old age.

The man leaving behind his two children a son and a daughter, Kyle and Nash, to whatever fate had in store for them – which was nothing good considering they're both dead now.

It could be argued that they did more damage than their father ever did to the Knight family, but that was a debate for another time.

David's death wasn't where the feud between the Star people and The Mist had started, not by a mile, but it was a defining moment that irrevocably changed her family's future in ways no one could have predicted. The ripples of the event still able to be seen to this day, with her and the newest iteration of the Star people's number one most wanted.

Halfway through her breakfast, something in the air changed. Approaching sirens could be heard, followed by the pop pop pop of gun fire that made most of the patrons in the café jump and look around. Marlowe's eyes however were glued to the corner store across the street. If you weren't paying attention, you'd miss her exit.

The girl quickly throwing down some cash on the table and taking off out the back exit and into the alley as she shed her jacket and sweatshirt.

~~*~~

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cjsinkythoughts · 3 years

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Erased From the Stars: Chapter 2

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 4254

Series Warnings: Toxic Relationships, Cheating, Physical Abuse, Underage Drinking, Drug Use (marijuana), Motor Vehicle Accident, Cursing

Chapter Warnings: Cursing, Mentions of Sex, Cocky Bucky, Nervous Bucky, Bucky Bucky

A/N: I actually have ideas for this story, so I’m cranking it out! I definitely wasn’t expecting to post today, but here we are! This chapter has a lot of dialogue and some of Reader’s thoughts, but not much action, yet. We’re kind of still getting in the roll of things, it still being the first week of college and all that. We do get to meet Bucky, though! Next chapter we’ll meet mostly everyone else, and there will be more things happening other than classes and work. I kinda feel like I’m rushing these first few chapters, so I’m sorry about that, but it’s mostly introductions and setting up the story and I’m the type of person who likes writing the climax and only the climax. So this is steady growth for me.

I do want to point out the series warnings, just in case! I don’t want anyone feeling uncomfortable or being triggered while reading this so please take those seriously as it will happen later on in the story! Thank you!

Once again, this isn’t beta’d so please excuse any mistakes! Thank you for reading and please enjoy!

Erased From the Stars Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts’ Masterlist

You woke up in a much better mood on Tuesday, having gotten more sleep than the previous night, especially considering how tired you were when you got home past midnight from working at Shield. You crashed as soon as your head hit the pillow.

You took your time getting ready and eating breakfast, saying bye to Christine and the kids, leaving first that time since your Public Speaking class started before Kayla’s preschool did.

Which you were late to.

Of course as soon as you let your guard down, thinking you’d be fine since your first day was fine, you weren’t fine.

Fortunately, you were only a few minutes late and didn’t miss anything, since today would be another day of going over rules and course requirements for the two new classes you had.

Public Speaking was the worst. You’re older - and only - sister, Kimberly, convinced you to take the class after saying it was one of her favorites. Of course, you forgot that you and Kim were very different people. For starting at 9:05, it was too early of a class, especially when the whole point was, you know, public speaking. You hadn’t done anything yet, but one glance at the plans your professor had for the semester and you were dreading it already.

Your next class was a US History lecture, which started fifteen minutes after Public Speaking. You were again late because you severely underestimated how far the buildings were and your professor let you out a bit later than you anticipated.

You practically threw all your stuff into your bag the moment he dismissed you and sprinted out.

Arriving, you tried slipping in as silently as possible, but the door slammed shut, rather loudly, making you cringe. You felt yourself heat up as several pairs of eyes snapped towards you, but luckily the professor, Coulson you remembered, was just gathering papers and hadn’t started yet. Ignoring your peers - none of whom you knew and you weren’t sure if that made it worse or not - you shuffled over to the nearest empty seat a few rows down and to the right. You were surprised and extremely grateful to find it was an aisle seat.

Pulling out your laptop, you huffed when it wouldn’t turn on. You hadn’t used it in your previous class, meaning it was dead before, but you could’ve sworn you plugged it in last night. Whatever. You were fine with pen and paper.

“Aw shit.” You resisted the urge to smack your head on the table as you dug through your bag. Seriously?! You forgot to pack a pen?! That couldn’t have been your only pen, right?!

This is why you were anxious. Next morning, you swore you’d get up early and triple check to make sure you had everything.

You quietly threw your bag to the ground and slumped in your seat, your arms crossed. That meant you couldn’t even doodle! You had to sit there for over an hour and listen to this guy talk about another syllabus. Joy.

Suddenly, something hit you in the back of your head. You rubbed where it hit and looked down at your feet, eyebrows knitting together at the scrunched up ball of paper sitting there. “Psst.” Another hit to the head made you whip around, glaring at the culprit.

“What?” You hissed before faltering. Damn. Now that was one hell of a specimen.

Steel blue eyes crinkled at the corner as pink lips pulled up into an entertained grin, pearly whites on display. Sharp jawline covered with light scruff. Fluffy chestnut hair styled with the perfect amount of gel fell a little past his ears, with a single pesky strand falling in his eyes. The white shirt he was wearing was loose with a low collar, a leather jacket thrown over it. You could see the combat boots from underneath the table. He was a pretty boy, yeah, but you hung out with (*cough cough* dated) enough guys dressed like him in high school to know his game.

“Need a pen?” He offered in a whisper, holding up the said object.

“Uhm…yes?”

He smirked, leaning forwards in his chair, closer to you. “I’ll let you have it on one condition.” You raised an eyebrow, giving him a pointed look. “Just a name, babygirl. Yours, specifically.”

You rolled your eyes, glancing around the room to see if you were disturbing anybody. Not seeing anyone paying attention to you two, you turned back to him. “Y/N.”

“Bucky.” He introduced himself, reaching over to shake your hand. You took it, a bit hesitant, blinking when you felt something fall into your palm once he pulled back. The pen.

“I, uh, thanks.”

He winked at you, leaning back in his chair, hands linked behind his head. “No problem, doll.”

You turned back to the lecture, holding in your scoff at his pet name, hating the fact that it nearly made you smile. He was definitely a fuckboy and you told yourself before college that you wouldn’t play around with them anymore.

So you tuned him out of your mind for the rest of the lecture and, thank God, you had to rush out of class once it ended because you had to work in half an hour, not even letting the blue eyed pretty boy say a word in your direction.

You worked for the rest of the day, Russo’s for lunch, a few hours break to look over school stuff and have dinner with your family, before Shield from 9 to 1. It was fine. Long, but nothing you weren’t used to already. You really enjoyed both your jobs and you got lucky with your bosses.

Joe and Anthony were brothers who took over Russo’s for their parents. The pizzeria had been in their family for generations, and they gladly took on the tradition. They had kids of their own and dealt with their school, so they were very understanding - almost parental - to you.

Phillips had started Shield after retiring from the Army, wanting to settle down with a place to drink, smoke, and play poker with his buddies. He was stern, but that was to be expected. He always told you, “you can take the man out of the Army, but you can’t take the Army out of the man.” Despite him being strict, though, he was reasonable, and had taken a liken to you since the moment you stepped foot in the bar.

And not only did you like your jobs, the money wasn’t too bad either.

But, despite that, you were still human, and having two back-to-back college classes and then working two jobs for over eight hours was draining.

You made sure everything was ready for the next day before you left for Shield, that way you could just get home, change, and sleep. Tuesday might’ve been a rough starting day, but you’d learn for Thursday, and Wednesday’s morning was definitely better.

Peter even texted you his coffee order, telling you he’d probably be late. You chuckled to yourself when you got the text at breakfast. You totally called it.

In his defense, he really was running late, and you could tell just by looking at him. One shoe untied, hair messy like he just rolled out of bed, sweater haphazardly thrown on like it was an afterthought, which it probably was.

“You,” he puffed, sinking into his chair and taking the coffee cup you held out. “Are my savior and I’ll love you until the end of time.”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “And you, my friend, are so much more chaotic than I thought. What’d you do? Stay up until three last night?”

He shrugged, shooting you an innocent smile while his cheeks turned red. “I got caught up binge watching Clone Wars.”

“Of course you did. Here’s the notes you missed so far.”

He gave you an adoring smile. “Did I tell you I love you?”

“Yeah, yeah. Sap. Hurry and copy them down so I don’t miss anything.”

********************

It was when you were checking your things Wednesday night when you realized you had an extra pen. It took you a moment to remember the blue eyed pretty boy from Coulson’s History lecture, but when you did you groaned.

Your dating record in high school was pretty bad. Not that you would really call it dating. But Whitney was right when she said it was you wanting attention. It wasn’t easy being the middle of seven. But you dealt with it and now that you were across the country from your family - who you loved but Jesus Christ did you need a break - you didn’t need to act out to seek attention.

You were an adult. Meaning you wouldn’t goof off with guys like that anymore. Meaning you didn’t even want to talk to guys like that anymore.

Meaning you were severely regretting taking his stupid pen.

Maybe he wouldn’t notice if you didn’t give it back. Yeah. Maybe you could just ignore him and he won’t even remember that he let you borrow it.

Those were your hopes as you walked into your US History lecture, taking the seat you had on Tuesday.

“On time today? Glad to see we’re learning.” And there go your hopes, crashing straight into the floor, shattering into millions of tiny pieces. Going for ‘not interested’, you quirked an eyebrow, twisting your head as a bag landed on the table next to your open laptop, a body falling into the seat beside you. The leather jacket was replaced with a denim one, his black button up tighter around his chest than Tuesday’s white t-shirt. “And you charged your computer! Very nice, doll.”

You shrugged, going back to your doodling. “Time management’s always been a bit of an issue for me.”

“Ah. Gotchu, gotchu. I’ve got a pal like that too. A couple of them, actually.” He chuckled. “Is that why you high-tailed outta here Tuesday?”

“I’ve got work right after this class.” You answered shortly.

He leaned his elbow on the table, his legs spread as he turned fully to, a slight smirk on his face. “I haven’t seen you ‘round campus before. You new here? A freshman? You don’t look like it.”

You hummed. “Maybe. It’s a big campus.”

“Which you don’t live on.”

Frowning at the question that he said more like a statement, you moved your head back to him. “I don’t?”

He shook his head, setting his cheek in his palm. “Nope. I know everyone who lives on campus.”

A bit distracted due to Professor Coulson just walking in and announcing the lesson for the day, you hummed and shut your notebook and set up a page on your laptop for notes. “Everyone, huh?”

He nodded with a click of his tongue. “I get around.”

There it was. “Oh? A party animal?”

“I wouldn’t say that. My friends and I are just outgoing. We enjoy life.”

“Enjoy life or enjoy getting into girl’s pants?”

He hissed, shaking his hand like he burned it. “Ouch, doll. That stung. For your information, quite a few people in my group are goin’ steady. And we’re of mixed genders and sexualities. It’s not always girls’ pants.”

You raised an eyebrow, turning to him while still trying to pay attention. “For you or your group.”

“Does it matter?” He shrugged. “Would it bother you if I did fuck guys? ‘Cause I have experimented and it’s not half bad.”

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’, shaking your head. “You do you, pal. Or…do whoever you want to. Now if you don’t mind, I’m trying to-”

He nodded. “Right, right. Yeah. Sorry. Just…listen. I think we got off on the wrong foot. I’m not gonna force you to do anything, you know. Yeah, sure, I’ve seen a few beds around campus, but I’ve got female friends who I don’t sleep with. What if I just wanna be friends with you, huh doll?”

“Just friends?”

“Yup.”

“Really?”

“Uh-huh.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Okay. How many of these so-called female friends you don’t sleep with single?”

He chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “The list gets smaller, but yeah.”

“How about single straight female friends?”

He paused at that, eyebrows scrunched up. After a moment you clicked your tongue with a slight smirk, facing your computer and typing the notes Coulson was writing on the projector. “Hold on, hold on. Yes, I’ve got a few of them. Listen, babygirl, you’re making this a lot harder than it needs to be.”

You scoffed. “Don’t call me ‘babygirl’ and we’ll see where that gets you.”

“Okay, okay. That’s fair. What? Don’t you believe that guys and girls can be friends with nothing between ‘em?”

“Yeah, I do. Just not guys like you.”

He frowned, eyes narrowing. “Well that’s not fair. You don’t even know me!”

“Mister Barnes.” Bucky winced at the teacher’s annoyed shout, before throwing Coulson a dashing grin.

“Hey, Phil! How was your summer, man? You still goin’ out with that cellist?”

The professor raised his eyebrows, unamused. “Is there something you’d like to share with the class?”

“Oh yeah! Thanks for the reminder, Phil!” Bucky stood up and cleared his throat. “Yo! First football game of the season is next Friday! It’s gonna be a blast! Watch out for number 41! Handsome devil’s gonna score the winning touchdown! Avengers assemble, am I right?!”

Coulson gave him an unamused look as the room cheered, making you laugh behind your hand. Bucky fell back into his seat, shooting you a wink as Coulson calmed down the room.

“You’re a football player?”

“Fullback, yes ma’am. Co-captain of the team, in fact.” He smugly leaned his seat onto the back two legs, setting his feet up on the desk.

Unbelievable. Why were you always attracted to these idiots? A player in both senses of the word. “There it is.”

He blinked, his chair falling forwards with a ‘thud’ that made Coulson shot him a warning glare. Bucky smiled innocently, before shifting his chair so he was turned towards you again, the smile turning upside down. “There what is?”

“That cocky, conceited air you fill the room with. Attention is what you live for. I should’ve guessed you were a jock too. I’m surprised you’re not wearing a letterman jacket or something just to make sure everyone knows who you are.”

His frown deepened. “Look, doll. I dunno what you think you know about me, or what you’ve heard-”

“I’ve never heard about you before you lent me a pen Tuesday. Which I appreciate and here it is back, by the way. But I know your type. I’ve been down that road. So excuse me for trying not to make the same mistake twice.”

He stared at the pen you set down by his bag, before his gaze flitted back to you, but you wouldn’t meet those pretty eyes of his. “Fine. Sue me for trying to get to know the new girl.”

“This is a mainly freshman class. Half the girls in here are new.”

“Yeah, but they’re chattering away with the posse they’ve already discovered.” He nodded over across the room. Your eyes scanned the lecture hall to find that he was right. Most girls were giggling and whispering to each other, no doubt freshman straight from high school. The others were most likely maturing sophomores. “And, hey, if you want extra reassurance I’m not trying to get you in my bed; I don’t fuck with freshman. Nothing against you or anything, just…straight outta high school and all that? Not really my jam.”

You eyed him, before shrugging and looking down to make sure you got the notes Coulson was starting to talk about. “Yeah, well, too bad I’m not straight out of high school, then.”

He tilted his head, an eyebrow raising in curiosity. “So you’re not a freshman. I didn’t think you were.”

“No, I am. But I took a year break between high school and college. But if you didn’t think I was a freshman, that reassurance doesn’t really work, now does it.” He opened his mouth to defend himself, but you continued, not wanting excuses. “What about you? You’re definitely not a freshman.”

“Nah. I’m a junior. I studied abroad for a semester last year and there were mishaps my freshman year, so I’ve got a few classes to make up. My friend had this class last year, so I just took all his notes. Coulson never changes his lectures. Pretty sure he doesn’t even change the tests.” You hummed, pretending you were barely listening when you really heard every word loud and clear. Bucky huffed, reaching out to grab your wrist gently, making you stop typing and look up to meet his eyes. “Can we start over? Please. I don’t know what type of guys you used to know or whatever and, yeah, I’ll admit I started the conversation like an idiot, but I promise I’m not that bad.”

Pursing your lips, you scanned his features, taking in the pleading eyes and the pouty lips. Clearing your throat, you took your hands off the keyboard, straightened a bit, and turned to him, holding out your hand, your full name falling from your lips.

The beam he gave you had you severely doubting your initial thoughts about him, his larger, calloused hand taking your eagerly. “James Barnes. Everyone calls me Bucky.”

You nodded, before starting to type again. “What are you studying?”

“Mechanical engineering.”

You paused, not expecting that answer. Maybe you were wrong - majorly wrong. “Really?”

“Yeah. I dunno. Technology’s always interested me and I like fixing cars and stuff; I work at an auto shop actually. I dunno what I’m gonna do with it yet, but it feels like a step in the right direction, ya know?”

“I’m afraid not.” You shook your head. “I have no idea what I’m doing.”

He chuckled, drumming his fingers against the table. “That’s alright, doll. I don’t think anyone does. They just think they do.”

“That’s…very true, actually.”

He grinned, running a hand through his hair again, his tongue darting out to wet his lips. “I told you: I’m not an idiot all the time. I swear.” That made you laugh.

Bucky talked to you throughout the rest of the class, never going above a whisper as he babbled about his other classes and how one of his friends, Sam, tripped down the stairs that morning. You were almost annoyed at him, but he was a very good conversationalist and he wasn’t distracting you too badly. There weren’t any awkward pauses while he stumbled around for something to talk about and if he wasn’t talking, it was a comfortable silence filled with Coulson’s voice, pen scribbling on paper, and the clicking of computer keys. He never pushed you for responses, either, only asking a couple questions, like where you worked and what other classes you had.

“Sorry if I’m bothering you.” He said a few minutes before class was over. “I’m just bored.”

“No. You’re fine.” Honestly, besides a few flirty comments and that pet name ‘doll’ popping up here and there, he wasn’t as bad as you were thinking.

He went quiet for a moment before clearing his throat, almost nervously. Your forehead creased as you snuck a glance at him. He licked his lips, a hand combing through his locks, scratching the back of his head. You wondered why he did that so often.

“So, uh, there’s this cabin in the woods by the lake about half an hour away…” His eyes widened at the weird look you shot him. “Oh fuck, that sounds so bad. No, no. It’s not - I’m not a serial killer or anything. My friend owns it. Well, technically his dad does, but it’s his. Anyways, he always throws a party the first weekend of a new semester. On Saturday. Noon to midnight. If you’d wanna come.”

You quirked an eyebrow, packing up your stuff as Coulson dismissed class early. “You’re asking me to go to your friend’s cabin in the woods-?”

He shook his head with a little laugh. “It sounds so sketchy. I promise it’s legit, though. Honest. You can ask anyone. It’s Tony Stark’s party. He holds one every-”

“You’re friends with Tony Stark?”

He nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. “Yeah. We’re in the same circle. I know how it sounds, but-”

“I’m working.” You cut him off, finding it amusing how he rambled. Who knew a fuckboy could get so nervous about asking a girl to a party. “But if you give me the address I’ll see if I can get some time off.”

“That’d be awesome. Yeah, yeah. Here.” He quickly grabbed the post-it note you handed to him and scribbled the address down. “It’d be really cool if you could make it.”

“I’ll try. Cross my heart.” You smiled, taking the paper from him. “I do have to go, though-”

“Oh right. Yeah. Work. I’ll see you this weekend, then. Maybe.” He grinned.

You bit your lip, nodding. “Maybe.”

As he started walking out, you looked down to grab your bag, the pen left on the table catching your attention. “Hey!” You called after him, making him turn around, walking backwards with that grin still on his lips. You lifted the writing utensil to show him. “Your pen!”

He shook his head. “Keep it! I don’t take notes in this class anyways!” He shot you a wink, before spinning on his heel, his hands in his pockets, whistling some random tune, without a care in the world.

**********************

“There she is! So?! How’s school been?! I wanna know!”

You grinned at Whitney as she bounced in, looking at you excitedly while going to wash her hands. “You’re working early today. It’s only 3.”

She shrugged. “They wanted me in before dinner rush tonight. Don’t dodge the question!”

“It’s been fine. I’ve met a couple people, doodled a few things, ignored syllabus talk - the usual.”

She sniggered, moving her eyebrows. “Any cute guys so far?” You thought back to your History lecture and Bucky, who confused the hell out of you. Whitney’s squeal pulled you out of your thoughts. “That’s a yes! Tell me about him immediately!”

“It’s not a ‘yes’. There’s nothing to tell.”

“But he is hot, right?”

You rolled your eyes, but your lips pulled up at the corners. “He’s…very easy on the eyes.”

Whitney gave an excited squeak, quickly drying her hands and putting on gloves before sliding up to you. “So? Tell me all about him.”

“Nothing to tell.”

“Bull.” She called out. “What’s his name?”

You huffed, focusing on the pizza you were making. “Bucky.”

She tried it out on her tongue before nodding. “Cute, cute. How old is he?”

“He’s a junior, so I’m guessing 20. Maybe 21 if his birthday was in the past week.”

Whitney hounded on you for every detail of your conversation, which you told her with some exception, leaving out the pen and some of the random stuff he told you. “So he’s a fuckboy?”

“Oh yeah. No doubt.”

“But he’s a charming fuckboy?”

“Mhmm.”

“And he’s not a dick?”

“So far.”

“So…he’s your type.”

You scoffed, giving her a look. “I don’t have a ‘type’.”

She gave you a bemused expression back. “Honey, it’s not a secret you like the charismatic guys that every girl swoons over. You just don’t swoon over them and that’s what makes you different.”

You scowled. “I don’t swoon over them because they don’t deserve my effort. And no. I don’t have a thing for them. I just…tend to get their attention more than other guys.”

“Because you don’t swoon over them.”

“Whitney-”

“Okay, okay. What happened next?”

You shrugged. “Nothing. He just sorta…talked the entire class. He did invite me to a party on Saturday though-”

“Oh my God! You have to go! College parties are the best! You’ll have so much fun!” She stopped to give you a serious look, pointing a finger towards you. “You’re going, right?”

“I dunno. Maybe. I’ve got to ask Phillips if I can get time off and I-I dunno if I even want to go.”

Whitney groaned, throwing her hands in the air and letting her head fall back. “This is the first party of your college life! There shouldn’t be any doubt!”

“Apparently Tony Stark is the one throwing it-”

“Are you fucking - you can’t not go!”

You snickered, Whitney’s persistence amusing you. “Again. It depends on Phillips. We’ll see. I promise.”

“At least tell me you got this guy’s number.”

“Nope.”

Whitney glared at you. “You are the absolute worst person to try getting drama out of, you know that? You’re not interested at all in this guy?”

You shrugged, turning to throw the pizza in. “Maybe. I wanna try out this whole friend thing first. Tommy’s the first real guy friend I’ve had since middle school and that’s mostly because he’s gay and we barely even talk outside work. I’ve never just…let myself take a break from dating before.”

A sigh came from the other girl, who reluctantly nodded. “That’s good, actually. Take a mental break. I respect that. But please, for the love of God, please try to have fun.”

You smirked, nodding. “I’ve told you, Whit. I know how to have fun. Don’t worry; if I do go to that party, I’ll have enough for both of us.”

“Yes! I have to live college through you now, so it’s your responsibility!”

You mockingly saluted. “I won’t let you down, babe.”

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ynscrazylife · 4 years

Text

Supernova | Chap. 2

Series Summary: Y/N is the daughter of Carol Danvers with star-like powers from the Space Stone. She has come to help SWORD with the Westview case, but what happens when she falls for a certain astrophycist?

Chapter Summary: Y/N has just sacrificed herself, being taken into Westview, to save Darcy and other agents. Darcy now races to catch up with Monica and Jimmy, and they all make a plan to save Y/N.

Series Tag List (OPEN): @nyx-aira @kittendanvers @scarletwxtxh @dani-espin07 @superbscissorsdeanexpert @xxxtwilightaxelxxx

Previous Chapter | Next Chapter | Supernova Masterlist

This was by far the hardest thing Darcy had ever had to do, and she once tasered a god. Running away from Y/N and knowing she’d probably get pulled into Westview broke her heart, and the fact that it was the only way for her and other SWORD agents to escape crushed it. She grabbed her laptop and then hopped into one of SWORD’s cars, driving away quickly before calling Monica.

“Darcy!” Monica answered, and Darcy could hear the urgency in her friend’s voice.

“Y/N is delaying the barrier so more people can escape. I-I doubt she'll make it out . . . Wherever you are, pull over, I’m coming to meet you,” Darcy said, and it took every ounce of will in her not to sob as she said those words. They left a bitter taste in her mouth. The scientist couldn’t bare to hear Monica’s reaction to her childhood best friend, sister-like figure, being in danger, so she hung up.

Sure enough, fifteen minutes later Darcy pulled up behind a pulled over SWORD car and got out of it, leaving the keys inside. She walked up to Monica and Jimmy’s car and glanced over her shoulder. The barrier had stopped, and she had a slimmer of hope that Y/N had escaped. With that, Darcy climbed into the backseat.

It was eerily silent when she shut the door. Darcy could sense Jimmy’s agitation and could see tear streaks on Monica’s face. The Captain took off driving and Darcy forced herself to focus on Y/N, putting her laptop aside and dialing her phone.

No one picked up.

Darcy tossed the phone aside in frustration and leaned back into the seat, trying to control her tears before they spilled. “She’s not picking up,” the brunette muttered. Monica gripped the steer wheel tighter and Jimmy rubbed his forehead, but no one said anything else.

They had been driving for awhile now, no one knowing what to do. The aerospace engineer couldn’t meet them because as it turned out, they had been near the Hex and had gotten pulled into Westview. too. As it neared morning and they had all slept and rested, they turned around, parked near the barrier, in a now empty SWORD facility, and got to work. They were the only ones there. Monica and Jimmy worked on a way to enter the Hex without getting their memories erased and Darcy worked on a way to get the television up and running.

Finally, she did it! She watched the show. It was normal. Ish. Wanda was taking a day for herself, Agnes was watching Billy and Tommy and then . . . It switched to Vision. He was visiting the circus and . . . Darcy gasped and nearly cried again, but her tears soon turned to hot, bubbling anger. Vision was being given a tour of the circus and there wasY/N, a trapeze artist, energetic and with no clue what had happened. Darcy turned to Monica and Jimmy, determined.

“Wanda made Y/N a trapeze artist,” she informed them bitterly, and immediately the two stopped what they were doing to look over at it. They both frowned, clearly angry as well. Of course, there was nothing wrong with being a trapeze artist, but the trio was angry at Wanda controlling Y/N.

Monica forced herself to tear her eyes away from the screen. “Jimmy and I have been looking at what you showed us yesterday - that my cells are being changed. We think that I’ll be able to re-enter Westview, without my memories being erased and I think . . . I think that I can take you guys with me,” she said.

Darcy immediately nodded. She knew it was dangerous and she knew she had only just met Y/N, but the brunette had already fallen on her. She felt like she needed to go into Westview and save her, after everything Y/N did for her.

It took a half an hour more of planning and ruling out the dangerous possibilities, but Monica and Darcy were finally ready. Their plan was to have Monica find Wanda and talk to her and for Darcy to find Y/N and Vision. Darcy had hacked into technology and was able to make it so they wouldn't just see the WandaVision show, they’d be able to see everything and everyone in Westview, so Jimmy could keep an eye out if anything happened.

Monica and Darcy suited up and made their goodbyes to Jimmy, before heading towards the red barrier. Monica took Darcy’s hand and put her other one in the Hex, grasping at its energy and power before they both stepped inside. The sensation . . . it was like nothing either of them had experienced. It was very bright . . . and noisy . . . but it was also beautiful. They kept walking forward until they re-entered Westview, and both women took a couple of moments to take in their surroundings and catch their breath.

“Darcy . . .” Monica trailed off, turning around to face her friend. “Are you still . . . you?”

Darcy took a moment to compose herself and then nodded with a grin. She still had all of her memories in tact and it seemed that Monica did, too, With that, they went off on different ways - Monica to Wanda’s house and Darcy to the circus.

After what felt like forever, Darcy finally came upon the circus, with its tents and people bustling about. She also noticed Vision, who seemed to be wandering aimlessly. “Hey! Uh, Vision?” Darcy called out, hoping he’d remember her.

The robot immediately turned around and looked shocked, but relieved, when he saw Darcy, and caught up to her. “You were there . . . The other night,” he recalled.

Darcy nodded hurriedly. “Yes, I’m Darcy Lewis, an astrophysicist. I’m one of the people working to help solve this . . . case,” she explained.

Vision nodded, and he seemed grateful. “We need to get the barrier down,” he said.

“Yes, I know. My friend . . . you know her as Geraldine, her real name is Monica, she came with me . . . she’s going to talk to Wanda, see if she can convince Wanda to take the barrier down,” Darcy continued.

Vision’s eyes widened. “I should be there,” he said anxiously, making a move to walk forward until Darcy side-stepped in front of him.

“We need to find my, er, friend first. She got pulled into Westview - she’s a trapeze artist here but in the real world, her name is Y/N Danvers,” Darcy told him urgently and a bit nervously.

Vision thought for a moment. “I can take you to her,” he said, and then turned around, leading Darcy further into the circus.

They found Y/N talking to another circus member, who had been a SWORD agent, and Darcy gasped when she saw her. There she was. The girl she was falling for and fast, just feet away from her, and in pain. Darcy was at a loss for words and Vision recognized this, so he did the talking. He got the other circus member to walk away and then turned to Darcy, quickly telling her to distract Y/N.

Darcy had no clue what he meant and opened her mouth to speak to her smiling friend when Vision put his hands on Y/N’s head and she gasped before stumbling forward. Darcy caught her before she fell and Y/N gripped Darcy’s arms. “Oh my god, Darcy . . . It hurt, it hurt so bad. I think it was worse because I had powers but her voice . . . I remember everything I did but I couldn’t control it, it was so loud,” she rambled.

Darcy’s heart broke and she gathered Y/N into her arms, wanting nothing more than to hold her forever, but seeing Vision’s uneasy glance, she knew they couldn’t do that. “I know, I know, I’m so sorry you had to go through that,” Darcy whispered soothingly to Y/N, and then she pulled away and explained the plan to her. Y/N nodded, wiped her tears, and took Darcy’s hand (which surprised her, but the brunette wasn’t complaining).

They walked back into town and saw Monica standing outside Agnes’ house, looking around for something - or someone. “Monica!” Darcy called out, and when Monica saw Y/N, she broke off into a run and secured Y/N in another protective hug.

After giving the pair a couple moments, Monica explained what happened with Wanda and that Agnes had pulled her away. She, Darcy, and Vision all began planning something else and Y/N tried to listen, but she felt like she was being pulled away. Leaving them to it, she walked over to . . . a shed of some sort. When she pulled it open, she found stairs leading to the basement, with dark vines and branches covered in some sort of purple mist.

That’s when Pietro - or Peter - super-sped up behind her.

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backtothestart02 · 3 years

Text

A Weekend of Firsts - 2/? | grandice fanfiction

A/N: Welp, this is gonna be more than 3 chaps, I fear. Enjoy? XD

...

Chapter 2 -

Grant stepped out of the shower the next morning and wondered what his life had become. Not a night of tossing and turning or cooking up his usual hangover fix for the minor headache he woke up with or what should’ve been an extremely relaxing, invigorating hot shower had erased the memory of Candice in his arms the night before.

The feel of her body arching up against his and her tongue sneaking into his mouth, her lips pressed to his in sloppy, passionate kisses, her legs wrapped around his own still remained ingrained into the forefront of his mind.

And her neck.

God, her neck.

He could spend forever drawing moans from sucking kisses down her neck.

It was everything he’d been dreaming of since first meeting her during their chemistry test months ago.

He’d convinced himself she must not be interested if all his flirting and paying her attention in the last month and a half, in addition to when they shot the pilot, got nothing but an obligatory smile and some laughter at his jokes.

Finally, he’d found someone who thought he was hysterical though. That was a relief. He was starting to think he maybe wasn’t that funny.

But it was nothing that a friend wouldn’t do. He couldn’t resist flirting with her, but if all she wanted was friendship, he’d shut it down as soon as she said it was too much.

Last night he’d learned it wasn’t too much at all, and she actually did feel the same. She just didn’t want to act on it, and he couldn’t figure out why.

There was a voice in the back of his head yelling at him for having taken her back to her room before things got really heated the night before. But he knew it wasn’t right. He’d been tipsy at best, and she’d definitely been drunk. If they were ever to have a real chance, he had to do things the right way.

After getting dressed, he returned to see what was left of his hangover concoction in the kitchenette part of his suite. Luckily, the kitchen downstairs had had all the ingredients he needed to make it. He’d just needed to call for room service to deliver, and deliver they did. Since he hadn’t had much, given his headache had been pretty minor, there was more than enough left to deliver to Candice, who definitely would need some.

His only problem was would she let him in the door or would she be mad at him for making him leave in the midst of their little…almost sex. He winced, but then decided to push it out of his mind as best as he could. He gathered the drink in his arms, grabbed his room key and padded the short distance down the hall to her room.

He knocked lightly on the door. No answer. He tried again, this time a little louder.

“Candice?”

He heard a moan in response. That was good news. She was responsive and probably still in bed. He couldn’t be coming at a better time. Probably.

She still didn’t come to the door though, so he knocked again.

“Candice?”

“I didn’t order room service!” she called out, and he smiled, imagining her pout and her frazzled hair as she stretched out enough to yell at the closed door.

He had to compose himself before continuing.

“It’s not room service. It’s me.” He paused. “Grant.”

There was a really long pause then, to the point that he wondered if she’d gone back to sleep.

“Candice?”

He was super close to knocking again, his hand raised to the door in in a loose fist. Luckily – or not, for him – she responded just before his knuckle hit the smooth wood.

“Go away,” she said grumpily.

His heart fell in the pit of his stomach, but he told himself not to take it personally.

“I have something,” he tried. “For your…headache.”

He heard some huffing on the other side and then the sound of the heavy door opening before he was faced with a frazzled looking Candice Patton. He held up the green drink innocently.

She huffed, but took it straight out of his arms, downing it as fast as she could.

“Wait, that’s not what I-”

She didn’t listen, only took a breath halfway through to mutter, “This tastes disgusting.”

He chuckled lightly but couldn’t get a word in until she’d finished the batch.

“What is it?” she asked, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.

He grimaced. “You don’t want to know.”

She eyed him up and down, looking highly suspicious.

“What?” he asked, grinning now.

“You look better than I do.” She pouted. He found it adorable.

“I’ve showered and dressed. You’ll look better than me in no time if you do the same.”

She sighed, shoved the glass back at his chest and closed the door.

Once again, he was alone in the hall.

“I’ll see you down at breakfast,” she said from the other side, and he supposed that was the best he was going to get.

“See you down there,” he muttered to himself, and before long he found himself headed down the hall and entering the elevator alone.

…

Candice waited until she heard the elevator doors close before turning around and leaning back against the door.

She was in Hell. Literal Hell.

Well, maybe not so much after the drink. She might not have to vomit so much anymore, and she could already feel her headache dissipating.

But what was she going to do about Grant?

Here he was being so kind and thoughtful, and he was an actual gentleman last night. He’d saved her from making the biggest mistake of her life. Putting her current job in jeopardy by messing with their onscreen chemistry due to pursuing an offscreen relationship with her number one co-star.

A one-night stand? What had she been thinking?

She’d been drunk and horny, and he’d been right there was what she’d been thinking.

And it wasn’t just that he’d been conveniently positioned beside her. He was the guy she couldn’t stop thinking about even if she wanted to. She wanted to be in that bed with him, with him kissing her, making love to her – or about to. She’d wanted that almost since she met him.

They just had a…a spark.

It was what made their onscreen chemistry so good. It wasn’t just onscreen. It was everywhere. It was in the looks, the dancing, the laughter, the sincerity. And now she knew, she was 100% certain that it was mutual. He wanted her just as badly.

It hurt her to know that though, because obviously they couldn’t risk what they had for something that could be fleeting.

Well, how fleeting could it be if her feelings for him had been just as strong from when they first met till now? If not stronger?

She nibbled on her bottom lip and headed into the bathroom, hoping a shower would erase all things Grant Gustin from her mind.

Of course it didn’t. She felt refreshed when she stepped out onto the towel she’d placed on the tile floor, another towel wrapped around her body and her hair. She didn’t feel hungover. She felt like she could take on the day.

But her heart still felt heavy, and it yearned for him.

Hell, she even dressed for him. She wore what she wanted to wear for herself, of course, but she was thinking of him while she did it. Would he like it? Would he stare? Would he even notice?

She shook her head, trying to rid her thoughts of him again, but it was impossible.

Finally, she slipped into her shoes to head downstairs to breakfast, where she recalled she’d told him she’d meet him. How would she survive that? Without blushing? Without staring at his lips? Without either shunning him or asking to pick up where they left off?

What would he say if she decided on the latter? Maybe all she needed was a one-night stand to get him out of her system.

Maybe…

As it turned out, she didn’t have to go far at all. When she opened her hotel room door, there he stood with a plate of bagels, fruit, and cereal, and an orange juice to drink.

“Hey,” he said, that ridiculously sexy grin back on his face. “They, uh, were closing up. So I quick grabbed some stuff for you and just brought it up. I hope…is this okay?”

“Yeah, totally,” she said immediately. “Thank you.”

She reached for the tray, then found herself grasping air as he moved past her into the room.

“Uh…okay.”

“Sorry, I just wouldn’t want you to spill anything on your pretty dress.” He looked over his shoulder after setting the tray down on her bed. “It is pretty by the way.” He turned all the way around and approached her. “You’re pretty.”

She swallowed, her eyes dipping to his lips again, then figured this is it, now or never, before she could talk herself out of it.

She went up on her tiptoes and tried to reach his lips, but she was too short. She almost tripped over herself instead, floundering. He caught her though, gripping her elbows to keep her steady. She couldn’t look at him. She was so embarrassed.

“Candice,” he whispered, and hesitantly, so hesitantly, she looked up at him.

He caught her lips with his own and kissed her, his lips slanting over hers to escalate and deepen the kiss. Candice’s arms swung up and around his neck, and he pulled her flush against him, kissing her harder, giving himself over to her, everything he had to that kiss, pushing her up against the wall and kissing, kissing, kissing until he couldn’t breathe – and she probably couldn’t either – and lifting his head.

“W-w-wow, whoa.”

Trembling, she let her hands fall from around his neck, one lifting to her lips. She could still feel the pressure, the buzz, his lips had created there.

“That was…”

“Yeah,” he said, and his voice was gravelly.

She laughed nervously.

“Your voice is really hot after you’ve been kissing someone.” She licked her lips.

He managed to smirk, then sunk his fingers into her hair.

“Just after I’ve been kissing you, I think.”

She smiled tremulously. Then without warning, she seemed to figure out that he wasn’t exactly in clothes meant for panels, interviews, autographs, etc.

“What?” he asked, finding the little crease in her forehead absolutely adorable.

“I uh…you probably need to change your clothes, right?”

He looked down. “Yeah.”

“And um…wipe my lipstick off your lips?” She reached up to wipe it away, but he caught her hand and met her eyes.

“Nah, I think I’ll keep it there.”

“But what if someone sees?”

“Who’s gonna see? We’re not even famous yet.”

His eyes were twinkling in the faint light of the room, and Candice found herself absolutely enraptured by them.

“Please?” she requested, biting her bottom lip.

He groaned aloud.

“I can’t resist you, Candice.”

Reaching down, he used a fistful of his t-shirt to wipe the lipstick free of his face.

“Better?” he asked.

She frowned.

“Now what?”

“Well, now it’s on your shirt! It won’t take much for people to-”

He cut her off by pressing his lips to hers in a quick kiss, then moving past her towards the door.

“I’m one door down. It’ll be fine. No one’s in the hall. They’re all in the lobby.”

“Wait!”

He stopped and turned around right as he set his hand on the doorknob.

“You want me to go shirtless?” He leaned towards her. “Because I will if you want me to.”

“No!” she said, scandalized all at once. “I don’t want anyone to-”

“See what belongs to only you?” He grinned unashamedly.

“Oh, my God, no.” Her face licked with flames. She could hardly breathe. “I mean, you don’t belong to me. We’re not together. This was just…just…”

“A hot kiss between co-workers offscreen?”

She couldn’t speak.

He pressed another quick kiss to her face, but this one hit her cheek since her mouth was hanging open.

“I’ll see you at the first panel. Maybe we’ll meet in the elevator, and…kiss some more.”

He winked, and then he was opening the door and disappearing into the hall.

Candice’s mouth was still hanging open when the door shut. She stood with her back to it much like she’d done hardly an hour or two earlier. She couldn’t remember what time it had been, only that she felt much more frazzled than she’d looked then.

She’d just made out with Grant. Again. While not drunk. And she hadn’t put a stop to it. She’d initiated it even!

She blew a lock out of her face and slowly slumped against the wood until her butt hit the carpeted floor.

Oh, damn.

#grandice #fanfiction #grandice fanfiction #backtothestart02 fanfiction #a weekend of firsts #chapter 2

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wordsbynathan · 4 years

Photo

Character Profile: Neil Grant [The Psych Quartet]

Protagonist • 18 • Libra • INFJ • Fire {disaster gay//literal flaming homosexual//nature photographer//amnesiac with a desire for Justice™//often angery//mommy issues//impulsive as h*ck} [Character Tag]

Neil is a driven and compassionate person, stripped of his identity and seeking answers. His life has been split into Before and Now, which leaves him reeling, detached. He can be overly sensitive and a bit insecure, but he makes up for it in his desire to do what is right and to see the underlying beauty in the world. Though he can't remember anything about his past, he often finds himself viewing his surroundings with a photographer's eye, and he finds himself particularly drawn to the flora in the rooftop garden of Harmonium. Neil possesses a natural charm that comes through despite his capriciousness, and in his quest to uncover the truth, he finds himself drawing unwanted attention that could endanger his life in this new world.

So. Where to start with my literal biological child, Neil Grant, love of my life...

Neil’s got it rough. He wakes up in a cluttered office that reeks of coffee and some preppy French professor-looking guy tells him that his mom is dead and he’s also a superhuman. He’s had better days okay?

At first, he really struggles to adapt to this situation. After witnessing some senseless violence in the middle of his orientation, Neil is basically forced to accept the reality of his situation. It also helps that his roommate is super hot. So he says “frick it” and sticks around, because he’s got nowhere else to go (his dad is the major suck and hates superhumans; one of his mother’s final commands is that Neil be kept from his dad after his powers manifest).

The thing is, because his identity is basically erased, he’s looking at the world through a fairly unbiased lens. He sees things for what they are, and he starts to realize that there’s something sinister going on behind the scenes at Harmonium. Through some snooping and bits and pieces of word of mouth, Neil starts to put together a theory that people like him are being targeted by the weaker but larger population at Harmonium, and someone close to him could potentially be at the helm of that movement.

Neil emits a single laugh, a sound closer to choking, and then he’s laughing, really laughing, doubled over and holding onto his own knees for fear of his body shaking apart, and once he’s able to stop and take a breath and wipe a tear away from his cheek, he says “That’s fucking hilarious,” because people don’t say things like that, and people shouldn’t say things like that to fragile boys who don’t know where their lives have gone.

Enough about the plot though, let’s talk about Neil as a character. In his past life, his Before, he was a nature photographer and a total nerd (and therefore can recite any plant’s Latin name should you need him to). He’s typically pretty soft n cute, but when you get him going his temper can really boil over--one of the downsides of being a Fire Psych.

He can be like a dog with a bone when he has a theory, to the point of pissing off everyone around him. The thing is......he’s usually right?!?!? LMAO!??!!? But he’s not the type to drop “I told you so”s even when this is the case.

Neil tends to be impulsive; he likes to keep people on their toes, and sometimes he surprises even himself when he makes these split-second decisions. Not particularly interested in preserving the preexisting social order, Neil falls in with a small group of fellow queer students who guide him through the start of his schooling. He also breaks a few hearts along the way, but it’s only out of self-preservation.

One thing about Neil: he’s a very naturally gifted Psych. His mother is infamous in the Psych community for being one of the most powerful Elite agents in years, and right from the start, Neil has the student body of Harmonium wondering if he’s going to move in and fill her recently empty shoes. He very quickly grows into his abilities, though he has qualms about using them and their potential for destruction.

Neil draws his hands to either side of his body and holds on to the tips of each flame, allowing them to expand outward into twin ropes. He cracks them against the pavement, which launches a flurry of sparks above him. With another intentional breath, he freezes the sparks into a glittering dome, each minute star whirling in place.

Neil two major physical idiosyncrasies: the first is that whenever he feels anxious, he can’t help but chew the heck out of his bottom lip. Shit’s always chapped and gross but there are at least two (2) boys who wanna kiss him anyway??? The other is his hair; like his mother, he was born with odd gray-blond locks, the color of ash, like someone took golden hair and turned the saturation all the way down. Neil’s 5′8″, a textbook twink, and a big fan of comfy clothes and anything pastel.

Aside from being a complete conspiracy theorist (#TeamMyMomIsn’tReallyDead!!!), Neil is fairly easygoing and is really just searching for some purpose in this chaotic world he’s been thrown into. In the first book of this series, we see him come to terms with who he is. The rest of the series follows Neil and explores the conflict as he accepts what he must do.

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#wip: burned #series: tpq #oc: neil grant #character profile #oc #wip #writing #mine #writeblr #writeblr character #writeblr community #idk if any of those tags actually worked oh well fuck my drag i guess #like the user tags i mean

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sinhnhi678 · 4 years

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His Majesty's Dark Queen Chap 3

Note: yeah, got me whole week to write this chap. It's like 4A.M in my country now, and I'm still typing :D Oh and I forgot to introduce the background of the series. Let's assume everything in this fanfic is just like the main series, except that Star doesn't erase magic in the end, okay? Good. Now, let's enjoy chapter 3 ^^

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“So, what's that all about?” In the end, Tania can’t just let her friend out of the bar, and because this time seems kinda serious. She gets Tom the “dumped-seat” then comfort him.

“About what?”

“The GIRL, man!! The GIRL! It must be a girl, who dumped you, so you were so sad like this! No, this time must be very serious. I have never seen you sad like this ever since… since… you broke up with that Nana…”

“It’s Jana.”

“…. That Jana. The weird lady from Erath, you said. Man, maybe I have never met your Starship and know about you two’s past, but I've heard enough about your Janna. You two were like… born for each other. What could be better suited for a demon, like a demon lover? You talked to me about Jana like this, Jana like that. You were so happy, I thought when I finally get a chance to met your girlfriend, is when I received the wedding invitation. But then you came here, told me that she broke up with you, and you was sad for a long time. I also had to take you to places like Amethyst Arcade or Quest Buy to make you feel better, even introduce you new girlfriend. It took you half a year to get over it.” Tania tried to sound dramatic. She stretched her voice, deliberately pressing, waving, rolling her eyes. Tom could not resist this, hugging his stomach and laughing non-stop. Tania is always a caring friend, she does not care about her image getting worse, every time Tom is sad, she always uses this way to comfort and make fun of Tom. And it works every time. That is the first step.

“Stop, Tania, stop. You crack me up!!!” Tom tries to stop laugh, “And… what makes you think this time is worst like that?”

“The eyes, my friend. You can try to look sad, try to look happy, but your eyes always tell me the truth. That’s the reason I make friends with you in the first place. Because there is no way a ‘heartless demon’ can have eyes like that. Your three eyes, especially this one,…” Tania pointed to her forehead, “are very honest. Outsiders might think every time you broke up, you sad the same way. But those eyes tell me when you really sad, or just annoyed.”

“This is the reason why sometimes I said I just got dumped, but you still kick me out?”

“Yes. Because your eyes said you just a little bit annoyed, so I just kick you out. No one can stand after see their friends broke up like… 4 or 5 times in one month, you know? It’s very annoying. I am your friend, not your mama, remember that.”

“I guess. But you are the only one left I can talk, literally. I have few friends, but only two of them are my BF. One is very busy with her life, I can’t just chat with her hours about my relationship like that…”

“And you think I can?”

“Tania, that’s Star. She’s my ex. Even now we are friends, but I still can’t talk with her about that stuff.”

“Good point. And what about another one? If I remember correctly, that’s a he, right? What his name again? Ma… Marcus…? No.. no… co… MARCO! Right, Marco. Why wouldn't you told to him? He is, well, a guy. Sure, he has a feeling for your Starship, but you said you are cool with that, and this thing is 5 years so far, and you two still be friends. Why not?” And there we go, step 2: Make Tom said the problem. Make he feels comfortable, then draw a way so he could go with the flow, says the problem so Tania can help him. Usually, this step took quite a lot of time, since Tom is just want drinking and whining, avoiding the problem, having to lure him to say it takes half a day. But this time, Tania did not expect Tom to speak from the beginning.

“The truth is…” Tom stopped talking. He closed his eyes, rubbed his face, took a deep breath, and sighed, seemingly pondering something extremely difficult to say. “The truth is… I'm here today has something to do with him.”

“Shit!” This is what Tania doesn't want to hear the most. “This is worse than I thought!” She thinks. In fact, Tania didn't really understand Tom's romantic relationships before the two knew each other. Tom didn't tell, and neither did Tania because she knew it was a sensitive issue. That great battle took many people away, some lost their loved ones, some lost their possessions, Tania herself struggled hard to rebuild her Lily Dog bar. As for Tom, he didn't tell much about it, but Tania sensed that he seemed to have lost himself in the great battle. He still looks normal, but Tom's change in such a short time cannot be due to the fact that he is trying to be an intern king, only love. From a kid who was grumpy all day with everything (despite trying to be normal), he turned into a calm gentleman, only talk to solve the problem. Maybe for Tania, Tom has always kept the attitude as when he first befriended her, warm and cheerful, but with strangers, his attitude and way of talking are different. He is calm and aloof when talking to them, even talk to them in a voice has a semi-sarcastic style imbued with nobility to normal people, like in the movie. “This love triangle thing is really troublesome!!” Look what it did to Tom, made he looks miserably.

Miss Star Butterfly is a trouble-maker. But this Marco boy is also one, too. Tania only knows him through Tom’s story. She gave a good impression with him at first. To Tom, he is a dear friend, the one who always helps him to keep calm, when he needs and has the same hobby with him. Even when he was dating Janna, the conversation between Tom and Tania always have Marco in it, more or less. If it wasn't for Tom dating only girls, Tania thought he had something with Marco. But then, Tom starts to open with her, starts to talk about his relationship with those two. It’s broke his heart to realize that he and Star can’t belong to each other anymore, and the fact that she and his best friend have “a thing”. He chooses to broke-up with her, told them he is cool with this, hopes them would go on with each other. Poor little one still tries to smile with those two. “I swear to God, I gonna kill that damn brat right…”

“Four days ago, me and he met. We drank and talked about the old days. I don’t know how, but we end up have sex.” Tom confessed.

The silence is in the air.

“Have sex… with who?” Take long enough for Tania to dare ask him again.

“With Marco.” He answered softly.

“Ho… ho… How?? How??” Tania can’t believe what she just hears.

“I don’t know. We were drunk, and… and… Love Sentence! Tania, it’s Love Sentence! Everything was dizzy. I'm pretty sure he took the initiative first, but it was me who did the last step. I mean, how could I not? He looked cute at that time. And honestly, I've wanted to do that to him for a long time...” Tom kept on babbling and dreaming about that night, unaware that Tania was having a huge shock at his side. “This can be true!” Tania denied, “If it’s true, then…” the whole thing about love triangle that she knew, the whole time, will completely different. She quickly squeezed his shoulders, turned him back to her, asking slowly: “Tom, dear! So, what are you saying, is you have feelings for him? For… that Marco boy?”

Tom did not answer immediately but looked directly at Tania. In his eyes filled with many things, there is heartache, there is love, there are concerns, feeling like about to spill out of the eyes.

"You DO have feelings for that boy." Tania did not need Tom to speak, his eyes answered for him. She let go of his shoulders, immersing herself in her thoughts. She knew Tom had suffered because of that relationship, she also blamed the other two for making Tom change himself so much like that. But what Tania can’t think to, even in her wildest dreams, Tom is indeed being hurt by that love, but not because the person he loves cheats on him with his best friend, it rather because he has feelings for that friend. But, for how long? Since when did he have that kind of feeling? Is it ever since that great battle? Or, worse, even earlier? She didn’t dare to think. How did her friend, after all, endure himself so he could suppress his emotions all those years? “Oh, Tom…” There are some tears in her eyes, she feels sorry for Tom. “And… and then what? What did he say? Is he said he hated you or something?”

“No. He doesn’t say anything. The next morning, we woke up. Then he ran away. I haven't said a word to him yet.”

“Wha… So you mean, you haven't spoken to Marco, like at all, since that night? Even just texting?” Oh no, he better be NOT.

“Yes… because I’m…”

“And… and you said you ARE the one who done it, right?”

“Yeah… Yes?”

“…”

The silence is in the air. Again.

“OMG! OMG! OMG! I make friends with a dumbass demon. OMG! OMG! OMG!” Tania muttering. “Tom, do you realize the seriousness of this?” She turned to stare at the demon. Tom became extremely confused by his friend's fast-changing attitude.

“Uhm… Tania? I… I do realize. So I must talk to you about this, then find out how to solve this problem…”

“No, you DON’T. Because if you do, you wouldn't wait until 4 days, then come to my place to ask me how to solve this problem. Tom, I know you have suffered greatly from this love, you are also very confused, but try to stand under that boy's perspective. Suddenly his best friend done that thing with him, and then the subject went silent without any explanation or inquiry for 4 days. If it were you, do you suffer?” Tania stopped, she should not go too deep. Saying more will only make things confusing. Tom endured that was enough. She patted his shoulder, then went out to settle the bar, giving him space to think for himself.

Tom was left alone. He took a deep breath, trying to calm his mind to think. None of this would have happened if that damn instinct didn't inspire him. But Tom knows, he can't blame all on instinct. Marco Diaz, that name also made him sleepless all day and night. From the beginning because of jealousy with Marco when he was a close friend of Star, until he knows that for the first time, he had made a close friend besides Star. He treasured this friendship very much because not everyone could stand his normal temperament. Tom treasured it so much that he didn't want to break it. At one point, he almost lost this friendship. Luckily, Tom tried to calm down, so nothing happens. But now that he thinks about it, if at that time, he passed that point, maybe everything will be better.

Tom took another deep breath, took up his courage, and opened the compact. Before going to see Marco, he needed to talk to this person first.

___________Marco’s POV___________

Marco's whole body was exhausted after that night, his head was hot, stomach still felt yoke and burning hot don’t know why, but these injuries are nothing compared to Marco's feeling right now.

“Tom, what is he doing right now? Why doesn't he call me? Is it ... he hated me because I had proactively kissed him first?” Marco kept muttering like that. That morning, he was embarrassed so he runaways, but he still wanted to see Tom again. He had hoped Tom would come to see him, scold him, or take pity on him, whatever. But he didn’t come. Marco felt extremely uncomfortable, wanted to cry but couldn’t because doing so only made his parents more worried. He had been lying in bed for 4 days, taking the excuse that he had a cold, taking some medicine, and then resting was fine. The discomfort in his abdomen became increasingly uncomfortable. The lower was getting hotter and burning, and sometimes the pain was throbbing so he had to bend over to hug his stomach. This discomfort continues even in dreams.

In the dream, he was swimming in a black sea without a shore. Above the black border is a blood-red moon, as red as the Blood Moon night that Tom once determined to invite Star to attend. Blood moonlight shone on the surface of the dark, turn one spot in the black sea into dark red. Marco hurriedly swam there, feeling that if he could swim there, he would be safe. But every time, every time he swam near that red spot, there was a hand holding him back. He tried to pull away, but that hand clung too tightly. When that thing saw him still trying to swim to the blood moon, it got angry, decided to drag him down. Marco could not breathe, that thing still pulled him further and further away from the red light, down to the bottom of the black sea. He tried to turn to look, but could only see three bright lights gleaming on the black seafloor. Then, he woke up.

He wanted to sleep, but if he slept he would have to go through that dream again. But if he didn't sleep, his body would collapse. Marco closed his eyes again, really determined, certain this time, he would win that light, to swim to the red light.

___________The Present___________

Tom crouched in the Star's bedroom at Butterfly Castle. Star is pacing in front of him. Her face was completely distorted, hard to describe the feelings of Star right now. Several times she turned to look at Tom, frowned, then turned away, muttering to herself, pacing the room.

“No! No! No! Tom, why? Why is this thing happen??” Eventually, Star stopped pacing, turning to ask Tom. “It’s only 4 days, Tom. 4 DAYS. Then you just called me, saying, ‘Oh hey, Star! I accidentally have sex with Marco on the evening of your birthday party and I have run away for like 4 days. What should I do now?’ WHAT SHOULD YOU DO? What should I say, you tell me?”

"Star. I don't need you to do much for me. It's just ... you heard, I haven't seen Marco for almost a week. And to be honest, I'm more scared now. Listen, you're the best friend of ours. As it turned out like this, having a friend like you with me was better than I go alone to see Marco. And to be honest, I didn't dare to imagine Marco's angry form. Maybe he's cursed and never wish to see me ever again. ”

“He better be! You deserve it! ” Star angry said.

“Star, I know it. I should have died hundreds of times. However, Starship ... " Tom stood up, holding Star's hand earnestly," ... Please, just this once. The truth is, I have feelings for Marco too.”

“You… do?”

“I ... I ... Do you still remember the day I said I wanna break-up with you? The truth is ... I discovered that I liked Marco before that, liked… a lot. But I know that you and Marco had something at the time, I couldn't say it, or else I would not only hurt you two but also lose both my best friends. ”

“Oh… Tom…”

“So at that time, I made the best choice is to break up with you and encourage him to be with you. But Starship, I didn't expect him to choose not to come with you. He even decided to return to Earth, finish his studies, and live a normal life. For years, I tried not to say anything. I'm like a madman, trying to find a relationship like our old relationship, hoping that thanks to it, I could forget about Marco, about my love for him. But in the end, the new left faster than the previous one. And during those years, Marco was always single. I thought I had a chance. Just unexpectedly, things were happening so quickly... So fast, I didn't know how to handle them."

"Tom ..." Star softened, hugging his friend tightly. She was too heartless, didn’t realize Tom's feelings were so confused. Five years, neither long nor short, but enough to torment a person into crazy. She still knew that Tom's relationships were usually not last long, and she used to worry about him, but come to think about that… “Tom, about your feeling with Marco, is Janna know any about that? Is that the reason you two broke up?” Every time Star have a chat with her girls, and if she told about Tom’s relationship lately, Janna just laughs and telling that he deserved that, nothing to worried. At first, Star thought Janna was still angry with him because of the breakup thing, but after that, Janna still met Tom when the whole meeting and didn’t show any discomfort. That always confuses Star.

“I… I don’t know… Everything between me and Janna is fine, can say it’s perfect. The two of us enjoy doing weird things to her liking. To be honest, she’s the only one that made me think, maybe I can move on with, and someday, I can over Marco. I even prepared everything, told my parents, introduce her to those two. Everything was so smooth, but suddenly one day, she called me out to talk, then said nothing, just punched me in the eye… Then… after that… she said she wants to break-up… She doesn’t even answer my phone. If… if it’s true, that she knows about my feeling for Marco…” Tom held his head, not sure what to say. “Oh my god, I’m such a jerk!”

“Tom! We can talk about Janna later. I know she, if she can still show up at our group meetings without complaining, it means she wasn’t too angry with you. You still can find and apologize to her later. Now, MARCO!”

Encouraged by the Star, Tom felt that he was calm. He thanked Star, saying, “Thank you, Starship. You really are the best friend a demon king can ask for. Can this good friend follow me now to Marco's house to talk with him? ”

She smiled at him.

___________About 2 hours later___________

“ARGHHH! Can you just hurry up? How the hell does your dressing take two hours to complete?”

“Relax, Star! Bathing, choosing clothes, beautifying yourself need time. Not to mention I'm about to talk to Marco. I want to be beautiful in front of him.” As he said that, Tom remodeled his tie, though it looked perfect.

“Ohmygod! Don’t tell me, that EVERY TIME our group meeting, you always like this. No wonder you always look so… fancy like that. Turn out you want to flirt Marco ~~” Star pulled Tom while giggling teasing him.

“Star!!!!” Although it is true, but being so explicitly made Tom blush. His cheek turns to purple quickly.

Star still giggled, pulled Tom to Marco's door, and quickly rang the bell. She turned, instructed him. "Listen, maybe Rafael or Angie will open the door, just let me talk to them. While I was talking to them, you said you had something to tell Marco and…."

“Creak.”

The door opened, but behind it wasn't Rafael or Angie, but Marco. Neither Star nor Tom had expected it, since the one who opened the door was still one of the Diaz couples, they love to have someone visit them. Marco looked extremely tired, his red eyes looked like sleeplessness, even the puffiness became black. He was very pale and lethargic, but his hair was still neat, and in his arms, Marco was holding a cup of coffee, Star guessed that he had just washed his face and was drinking coffee to regain consciousness. Marco pulled back his bathrobe so he wouldn't get cold, intentionally not paying attention to Tom who was standing next to him, only smiling at Star: "Star! What are you doing here?"

“Oh, hi Marco! Uhmm… WE are here to talk. Can we… come in?” Star tried to smile brightly.

Marco glanced coldly at Tom. His brown eyes once full of affection are now as cold as ice. It hurts Tom's heart, he feels more guilty for ignoring him for 4 days.

“Sure, why not? Come on in, it’s cold out there.” Marco stepped aside, inviting the two to go inside. Both of them noticed Marco's cold attitude, but still went inside the house. The heat transfer between cold and hot made them shudder.

“Marco! Who is that?” It’s Rafael, resounded from the kitchen.

“It’s Star! She has something to tell you and mom!”

“Is she? Then tell her to sit down and wait a minute. We are in the middle of something!”

Both Tom and Star were amazed at Marco's attitude. Marco is a lousy liar, if not basically he can't lie. But just now, Marco lied extremely smoothly, even choosing an extremely natural reason without any loopholes. The two were not yet over surprised, Marco returned, coolly speaking. “Star, you're here waiting for my parents to come out and talk. And Tom, I need to talk to you.” Then he turned upstairs, seemingly unwilling to hear any more words

“Okay, we know for sure that Marco is extremely angry at you now. You go up there, trying to console him. Acting very sorry for the ‘incident”, trying to appease as much as possible. If he takes the bait, you go ahead. If he gets really angry, remember to call me, I'll go up there.”

Tom nodded, then gathered his courage, went upstairs. Tom has never felt so scared like now, as if he's now fighting thousands of monsters, not going up and talking to Marco. He tried to reassure himself, hypnotizing himself that he was just going to talk. Ah, wish it was just a simple talk. This conversation means a lot to him. It was not just his own show of affection for Marco over five years, but also its result. If Marco agrees, then he and Marco can finally be together. But if not, then he feared that even friendship would be gone. Who would accept that his best friend has feelings for him, and then willfully did such a thing like that to him?

Tom took a deep breath, then turned the door handle. He saw Marco standing with his back to him, his face turning to the window. He felt Marco was skinny and gloomy than before. He sighed, closed the door, and said his line: "Marco..." But before he could say anything, Marco quickly turned around and walked in front of Tom. And then, he leaned up, wrapped his arms around the back of Tom's head, and kissed him.

Tom was very surprised. He could not guess this was coming. Marco is proactively kissing him. His full lips are plastered on Tom's lips, soft, cool, and extremely real. Tom was overwhelmed, but he quickly regained consciousness, his hands quickly hugging Marco’s waist, picking him up to press the kiss deeper. Tom could smell the scent of his shampoo and shower gel, and felt the bitter coffee he just drank as they both kissed. It all made Tom infatuated. He leaned against the wall completely, one hand lifted Marco's butt, one hand pulled his leg around Tom’s waist, then kissed him passionately.

“Tom, do you love me?” Marco stopped the kiss, but his forehead rested on Tom's, their lips only a few centimeters apart. Tom looked into his eyes. It was not as cold as it used to be, it was glittering with emotion, reflecting Tom's image in it. Tom felt revived, the whole body energized. He hurriedly kissed small kiss on Marco’s face and lips, answering: "Yes, Marco. I love you. Love you very much. Love you till the day I die."

“Is that so? So if I want anything, you can give it, right?”

“Yes, anything, even my heart.” Tom hurriedly answered. Marco giggled, rubbing his ear. "You goofy, I don't need your heart." He gently kisses back, “I just need you to love me, with all your souls!”

“Yes, I will.” Tom leaned over, kissing Marco once more time.

___________Down stair___________

Star sat opposite the Diaz couple, holding the teacup they were invited to and extremely confused. If Marco was said to be a lousy liar, then Star lied worse, the truth proved that. Star tried to smile, asking some silly questions to the couple. She was hoping Tom would comfort Marco soon to get herself out of this situation, or she was afraid she might flush it out. But before she could tell the truth as she feared, Rafael changed the subject. He looked confused and worried when asked Star. “Star, on your birthday night, did something happen to Marco?”

“Wh… What~~? No… No! Nothing happens! Everyone is fine. No one gets trouble or something… hahahaa…Ha!” Star negated in a soaring high voice. “Oh shit! Oh shit! Help! Tom, hurry up!!!” She tried to keep calm but her forehead was still sweating, even a sip of tea she just drinks couldn’t make her throat less dry.

“Is that so?” Rafael sighed. He looked hesitant, even giving Angie a look when he saw her nod, he turned to Star and continued. “Star, we really don't want to say this, for fear you will be worried. But before we start, we just want to say that everything is okay, everything is under control. No need to be overly worried.”

“Yes?” Star realized the strangeness of the two.

“It’s about Marco. He has severe depression.”

“Severe… depression?”

“Simply put, it is a disease caused by long-term stress. It causes patients to have trouble sleeping, tired, irritable, and especially thinking about committing suicide.” Rafael explained. “At first, the two of us just thought that Marco was not used to normal life, maybe it would be fine later. But he is getting more and more strange. He often has insomnia, cries often, and the teacher at school often complains about his distracted attitude. And then one morning, Angie found him holding a razor blade in front of the mirror, right at his neck as if about to cut down. Although Angie had stopped Marco at that moment, and he didn't seem to recognize or remember that suicide, but we were forced to take him to a psychiatrist.”

"The doctor concluded he had severe depression." Angie burst into tears, trying to hold back her tears but unable to. “At that time, we did not know what to do. Oh, our mijo! Marco promised us he would try to get through, telling us not to tell this to anyone else. But how can it be overcome so easily? He had been miserable for a long time, only when he went to meet his friends, he seems to have returned to normal. It took more than two years for Marco to no longer have the thought of committing suicide. But the depression is still there. We were so afraid that one day, he couldn’t think and then commit suicide like that morning.”

“Two years? That… the time when Tom and Janna...?”

“For that reason, we forced him to stay with us, even though he went to college now. Maybe with his friends, he said that he wanted to save up for student’s loan, but actually it was because of his depression that we couldn't stop watching him.”

“Lately he's been better than before. We were extremely excited, thinking that he might have returned to being old Marco. But, four days ago, after your birthday party, it became strange again. Even though he told me he only had a cold, he tried not to cry and sleep well, but why didn't we realize that.”

“That why, we want to ask you, do you know what happened that night?”

Being looked at by both Diaz and the couple, Star felt like a criminal being questioned. She couldn't keep her word, sorry Tom, but she had to say it.“Uhm… Actually… That night…”

“STAR!” Glossaryck from nowhere naturally appeared right next to Star, screaming her name.

“AHHHHHHHH! Cheese and crackers! Glossaryck?! What are you doing here?” Star feels confusing. A few days ago, Glossaryck suddenly said he has something important to deal with, then disappeared from that moment. But now, he suddenly appeared here.

“No time to talk! Where is Tom? We need to save him. NOW!”

“Tom? What are you talking about? He is fine. He with Marco now. The two of them were talking about their problems…” Star quickly turned to the Diaz “… at the previous four days. But it’s like 10 minutes has passed, and there was no sound of fight or argument, so I think we're okay, it's all right. You two can be chill. Marco will soon…”

“No, Star! Marco IS the problem.” Glossaryck protested.

“What are you…”

BOOMM!!!

A loud bang, coming from upstairs. The four of them stopped talking and quickly ran upstairs. Star went upstairs first, and quickly ran to Marco's room, she realized that loud noise came from the direction of his room. But when she got to the door, she felt something amiss. The door of Marco's room was still closed, but there were cold, chilling breezes coming through the door, along with a frightening green light. Star recognized that light.

“Star, you better be prepare beforehand.” Glossaryck flew close, reminding Star. Star took a deep breath, then turned the door handle.

Behind the door was a scene, that perhaps until the end of her life, Star can not forget. Tom was lying near the door, unmoving, his pale lilac skin even paler, almost becoming white, as if he were dead. The room was disturbed by a hurricane, everything was lifted by the wind, scattered in the air. The roof has a very big hole, snow poured everywhere. Looking up, Star sees something even more terrifying. It was Marco, float in midair. But that was not normal Marco, it was a monster with Marco's face. His eyes are completely black, from the pupil to the sclera. Marco grew a small horn on the right, which resembled Tom's. There was a crescent moon shaped magic mark on his cheek, but it was not like what she had ever seen. Marco's magic mark is shown in bright red, but now it shows in the formidable green of dark magic.

“Mar…Marco?!” She couldn't believe it was her friend.

“Oh, princess Butterfly! We meet again.” "Marco" smirked, responding softly.

“Be careful, Star. He was no longer Marco.” Glossaryck appears, alerting Star. He also quickly closed the door to prevent Rafael and his wife. Can't let them see this situation. “So I guess you were the cause of the disturbance in the Realm of Magic, right?”

“The Realm of Magic has its own consciousness, Glossaryck. You can't blame us because it's been unstable lately. It simply... is welcoming a new member of it. A Prince! Prince of Darkness!”

“Marco” laughed maniacally. And, he began to change again. Two pairs of huge wings sprouted from his back. It has color of purple and green, with skull and hypnotic patterns on it. He also grows 4 more arms. He looked exactly like one of the Butterfly members when they transformed. “Marco” tried flapping the butterfly's wings and pleased to see it flap naturally.

“You… Who are you? Why did you take Marco? Give him back to me!”

“Ouch! It’s hurt, princess. After all, you did KILL us! Remember?”

As if something awakened, Star was scared, unable to believe in the truth. “You… you… Toffee?!” It can’t be! It can’t be! Toffee is dead!

“Close enough! Actually, it takes more than just one spirit to get this form, you know. But luckily, thank to you, this boy had absorbed enough evil spirits. But still, it takes a little more energy to convert. And then, you brought that guy to me, just in time.” He pointed to Tom, who was lying motionless on the ground, laughing. “Oh, men! I have nothing to say. You are just like my guardian angel. Tricking him is really too easy, it was like taking candy from a child's hands. All that because he loves 'me'! Hahahahahaha….!”

Star felt unprecedented despair and regret. If that's what he said, was that her fault, so Marco turned into that? And also because of that, so Tom got involved? Did she harm her loved ones?

“No! Give him back to me!” Star screamed, transformed, and took the magic wand, rushing towards “Marco”. But before she could get close, she was repelled by a wave of dark magic, shot back.

“Oh, Princess Butterfly. Although we would love to stay here to have a little chat with you, but unfortunately, we have to go. See you soon!” Marco smiled tenderly, then created a portal. Star has never seen such a gate. It was similar to the gate she went to the Realm of Magic, but instead of the inherent color, it was black and green. “Oh, one more thing. Send Tom a kiss for me. He really loves me with ALL his souls. Well, half of it is enough. Hahahahaha… Bye~~!” Marco chuckled, then disappeared behind the portal.

As soon as Marco disappeared, the whirlwind in the air gradually dissipated, the furniture gradually lowered, scattered everywhere. Star sat motionless on the ground, unable to believe what he had just heard or seen. She just sat there, staring into the air, enduring every wave of snow and wind blowing in her face. Outside, Rafael and Angie, despite being prevented by Glossaryck's magic to prevent them from entering or hearing anything, but they were too nervous, standing outside and try to knock the door.

Glossaryck sighed. He removed the magic from the door, letting them enter. Upon entering the room, both of them were rendered speechless by the scenery. But before they can be saying anything, Glossaryck took the initiative to say it first. “Star, we need to go now. Bring Tom and the Diaz family back to Mewni. I'm afraid this is not gonna end well.”

_______________

From this chapter I will post on tumbler too. Because the previous 2 chapters are too ... hahaha...

#His Majesty's Dark Queen #star vs the force of evil #svtfoe #tomco

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hollandsmushroom · 5 years

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😘 congrats on 800! What’s something you’re looking forward to in this last half of the year?

Okay so I was just about to post this when it crashed and everything I had written was erased, I cried for like 15 minutes so sorry it this really sucks!

I am really looking forward to going to Ireland for two weeks!!

❤️ Compliments!! You are, and I say this with utmost certainty, a QUEEN!! You are kind and funny and you seem so fucking sweet!! I would absolutely love to get to know you better because your posts always make me laugh!!

🌈 Color Association! You remind me of a bright summers day, of a yellowy orange sunshine, because this color is of happiness and freedom and joy and positivity and contentment and creativity. You remind me of love and going for the first picnic of the summer!

💯 Blog Rates!

URL |1|2|3|4|5|6|7|8|9|10| I MEAN THAT MAN IS GOLD SO I SEE NO LIE

Icon |1|2|3|4|5|6|7|8|9|10| UHHHH, Who let you be so fucking cute????

Header |1|2|3|4|5|6|7|8|9|10| It is the truth and I love it!!

Aesthetic |1|2|3|4|5|6|7|8|9|10| The aesthetic of both your mobile and your desktop both kill me, they are so fucking good!

Overall |1|2|3|4|5|6|7|8|9|10| I absolutely love and adore your blog, it is almost as amazing as the person who runs it!!

✏️ Blurbs!

I am running out of ideas! I added in your love of spiderman

Okay, we got one, this is semi based on a true story

It was late at night, and you were sitting outside on the patio, the fire pit in the middle of all the empty chairs seeing as it was just you and Cal. You were tucked into Cal’s side, your cheek resting on his shoulder as you watched the flames lick up at the star speckled sky. You turned your head to look up at him, placing light kisses along his stubbled studded jaw line to gain his attention, which it did. He looked down at you with those soft amber honey colored eyes and you melted, scooting up and placing a gentle kiss to his plump and slightly chapped lips.

“Did you hear that there is supposed to be a meteor shower tonight?” you spoke once you pulled away and returned yourself to your previous position with you cheek on his shoulder. Cal raised his arms above his head, stretching out the stiffness that had occurred in his joint from sitting still for so long, his movement displaced you from your perch on his shoulder falling face first into his lap, his bare tummy rubbing against your cheek as his shirt rode up with his stretch. You pushed your self back to a sitting position with a giggled, returning your gaze to his.

“Are you saying you want to go see it?” he asked

“I mean, it would be cool but I am sleepy,” you yawned, but Cal stood up, holding a hand out to you to help you up, “Cal you have to get up early tomorrow,” you laughed at his eagerness.

“So what, my love wants to go see the meteors, we are going to see the meteors,” you took his hand, standing up and going to turn off the fire pit as Cal got his car keys. You turned back to him, finding him with the keys hung on his finger, some Nike slides on his feet, he looked comfy and soft. You walked towards him, taking his hand as you waked to the car.

“Ready for an adventure?” he asked as the both of you got into the vehicle.

“Yea,” you spoke softly, as if not to disturb the peace of the night. You turned on the radio, a low melody filling the car that Cal soon began to hum along too.

“Is this a good place to watch?” he asked, pulling up next to a playground.

“Calum, this is a park!” you giggled.

“Yea, you’re right, it’s perfect,” he put the car in park and got out, closing the door behind him and waiting for you to walk around and join him. The two of you walked through the dark, across the damp grass till you reached a hill, laying down next to each other you looked up at the sky. You stayed like this for a couple minutes but you could tell that Cal was getting fidgety.

“They aren’t out yet, lets goof off on the playground while we wait,” he suggested.

“Really?” you scoffed out a laugh, he didn’t respond, he simply walked over to the climbing structure and kicked himself up so he was hanging upside down.

“Babe, come kiss me like Spider-man,” he hollered as you slowly made your way to him, taking in all of his cuteness.

“Shhhh, Cal, its late,”

“I will be quiet if you kiss me like Spider-man,” he called back to you, though you were only about 4 feet away now.

“Okay then Spider-Cal, if thats what it takes,” you dropped to your knees on the wood ships, due to the low nature of the structure, cupping Calum’s cheek in your hand, leaning in and meshing your lips with his, his stubbly chin bumping against your chin.

You pulled back to catch your breath, opening your eyes to see an upside down Calum grinning back at you.

“I have always wanted to do that,” he brought himself back to a standing position, bringing out his phone to check for updates on the meteor shower, “Babe, it looks like we missed it,” he spoke sadly, turning the phone to you.

“So this was a waste,” you groaned.

“I wouldn’t say that, I got to kiss you like Spider-man, I mean, I would miss any meteor shower just to be with you, kissing you would be a bonus, but this, this was deluxe,”

#follower celebration #24kcalum

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blankdblank · 6 years

Text

Chap Stick Pt 5

Pt 1 - Pt 2 - Pt 3 - Pt 4 -

Tags –

@himoverflowers, @theincaprincess, @aspiringtranslator, @sweeticedtea, @ggbbhehe4455, @thegreyberet, @patanghill17, @jesgisborne, @curvestrology, @alishlieb, @jogregor, @armitageadoration, @fizzyxcustard, @here2have-fun, @abiwim, @jotink78, @c-s-stars, @evyiione, @sweetlytenacious25, @evyiione, @deepestfirefun, @thequeenoferebor,

...

Gets smutty after another glimpse at the oc’s past. Also mentions of past abuse.

…

Smirks and glances from the Princes grew looking between your Husbands, both subtly trying to fill your plate with their additions to the meal. Your easy smile grew as you accepted helpings from them both and turned your head to greet Dain on his entrance to join you to share the news that had arrived with his Cousin. Dain accepted the free seat and passed a note to Thorin, “The Southern Kings are asking for a gathering to discuss Dwarves returning to Moria.” In a glance at you he cautiously added, “Though they are refusing assistance of Queen Rowena’s enchanted doorways for travel.”

Thorin’s brows furrowed, “That would take weeks to travel to Orcarni.”

Dain nodded, “Yes, I have spoken with Gandalf though, he has agreed to gain aid from the Great Eagles for our travels.”

With a sigh Thorin looked over to you then back to Dain, saying flatly, “I am not leaving. If he wishes to regain trade from Moria and Dale he can travel here. I have my people and family to tend to. If he does not agree with that then he can wait until I am able to travel.”

Dain nodded with a smirk and drew a pre written and sealed letter from his pocket a Raven along the wall flew to his shoulder to claim, “I hoped you might say that.” His eyes glimmered at you, “Besides, we’ve a feast to prepare for.”

Your brow rose curiously, “Feast?”

Dain nodded smiling at your Husbands, “A celebration, of the union of our lands and to officially welcome, and thank our new Queen.”

Thorin couldn’t help but smirk as he asked, “And how long have you been planning this?”

Dain chuckled lowly, “Since we learned you were wed. Though my people have been in a frenzy to get everything together for a week long frenzy. Three days for our clans and three for yours with a resting day in between to sleep off the ale.”

In your nervous habit your fingers rose to smooth over the fake gauge earring at the tip of your ear above your dark freckle that caused your lips to part as your fingertip smoothed along the grove there stirring a memory. Across form you Fili asked, “Everything alright Auntie?”

All eyes shifted to you and you glanced up, “I’d forgotten, my chests.” Their brows rose as they watched you unscrew the outer cover for the silver hexagonal cover to your earring you pulled off and turned over in your fingertips drawing their eyes. A click brought the hidden pocket inside you swished your finger over drawing a set of chests that grew as they neared the floor as you closed it and screwed it back on again. On their feet the group eyed the large chests, three of them could easily fit in stacked one on top of the other, your smile inched back as you opened the one closest to you and showed them, “My books and clothes. I couldn’t find them in my bag, thought I’d dropped them.”

Thranduil smirked peering over your shoulder and reached inside to grab the top book only to flinch his hand back when it growled at him. “Interesting..”

You giggled softly and raised the book in your hands allowing them to read, “Monster book of Monsters.” The Spider seeming book growled again then purred as you stroked its spine muttering, “Spiders, Spiders…Ah.” Your fingers halted the flipping of the pages and you grinned, “Well good thing they’re not Acromantulas.”

Thranduil eyed the page asking as he read the expert on the giant cursed beasts flourishing in his lands, “What is the difference between those and,” his finger tapped the page causing the book to grumble again, “these, Racnizons?”

You glanced up at him with a smile, “These shrivel in direct sunlight. One simple spell and they’ll be gone. Acromantulas require potions and various enchanted objects to kill the living then purge the nests and webs.” Closing the book you bound it again then caught Thorin flipping quietly through one of your ancient runes textbooks.

Lowly he asked as you put your Monster book down, “Where did you get this?”

His eyes rose to meet yours, “It’s one of the main textbooks for my Ancient Runes courses.”

His lips parted, “You can read this?” You nodded, “This is a copy of Durin the Deathless’ Journal.”

Your eyes lowered to it, “In my world that is the Journal of a Wizard known as Merlin.”

Lowly he repeated, “Merlin…” His fingers flipping through the book as he asked, “Can you translate this?” Nipping at your lip you turned and shifted the top tray out of the way to ease your fingers along the spines of your notebooks to draw out one of them you passed to Thorin with a smile.

“One of our first assignments to translate that book. I have a dictionary on it if you have more books in those runes.”

Dain softly asked in a stunned tone, “You know Kurdu?”

“If that’s Kurdu then yes. I excelled in History and language courses. Got a good job as a translator out of it in the Ministry of Magic.” Your head turned to Thorin, “Which reminds me, I know Khuzdul is a secret language-.”

He smiled at you cradling the books to his chest, “We will teach you Dearest Kurkarukê.”

Your smile grew as you caught Kili grabbing a smaller chest from the second chest he and his Cousin Thor had opened. Curiously they opened it and gasped at the stash of gold inside. Fili, “You have a hidden stash of your own I see.”

His smirk grew as he glanced at you while Thor claimed the velvet lined box tucked along the side, smirking you replied, “That, Fili is my life savings. 400 gold coins.”

Thorin smirked replying, “Well now that will be added to the thousands you have earned in your share of the hoard.”

You rolled your eyes saying, “I don’t need that much gold.”

He smirked back then looked at his Son who gasped at the large diamond and sapphire necklace forming a V with large Sapphires along the top with dangling rows of Diamonds ended with sapphires finishing the elegant wave of jewels with matching earrings starting with large sapphires above seven dangling strings of diamonds and sapphires in matching points. The entire set being worth a jaw dropping sum at the stones alone without a close glance at the White Gold chains and settings. In a glance at you Fili asked, “I thought you weren’t wealthy, before you came here.”

You shook your head, “I wasn’t.” You glanced at the necklace and giggled, “Oh that. My friends Albus and Nicholas gifted me that. I got assigned into a Triwizard tournament. I didn’t have anything to wear to the Yule Ball, they split the costs helping me find a dress and surprised me with those.” You giggled again, “They really are convincing aren’t they? I nearly thought they were real myself but they had a receipt from the second hand shop they found them in.”

The gems were passed around drawing Balin and Dwalin closer as well when they came to pass a message on to the King, each taking turns with Balin’s eye glass inspecting the stones. After wetting his lips Thorin met your eyes stating, “This is no forgery.”

In a disbelieving giggle you asked, “Then why would-.” Tears filled your eyes as your self doubt flooded through your mind while every memory with your short time with your best friends flooded back.

Gently Thranduil’s hand stroked across your back, “Your friends loved you.” Your head tilted back to peer up at you allowing him to wipe away a stray tear of yours, “It is excruciatingly difficult to pamper you Love. Even when I crafted the ring you had supplied the stones to you doubted it was truly a gift.”

You glanced at the set again, “How, how much would that be?”

Balin pursed his lips then glanced at Dwalin, “5?”

Dwalin shook his head, “No, even with the White Gold settings it’s over 7.”

Balin turned to look at you, “I would guess at least 8000 gold pieces.”

Your lips parted and Dwalin added, “Not counting labor.”

Thorin chuckled lowly, “This piece should have taken at least 5 month to complete simply shaping the stones.”

In your silence Thor asked, “Did you win?” Your head turned to look at him, “The Tournament?”

You nodded, “350 gold coins. Most of my savings. Wasn’t much of a win though.”

Fili’s brows furrowed, “Why’s that?”

Kili chuckled, “What happened, you send the others off through one of your doorways?”

You shook your head, “No, um, There was a mishap with the Swooping Evil when it got knocked into the Thunderbird, huge debacle, ended up killing the other two contestants in the shifting bogs.”

Dain, “Swooping Evil?”

Kili smirked, “What’s a Thunderbird?” As Fili asked puzzlingly, ‘shifting bogs?”

“Swooping Evil, it’s a mixture between a, well sort of like a butterfly and a snake. It’s venom is used to erase bad memories. Thunderbirds are like giant eagles with double sets of wings, they can summon storms. Um, the bogs, well, it’s a bog that was enchanted to try and kill us. Always shifting the small island pathways and pools of water enchanted to get us um, it sort of hummed to lull us in. I thought there were Sirens in the water to drag us under, so I didn’t touch it. Then there was the stinging mists and random hidden mythical creatures we had to get past to reach the cup.”

Thorin raised a brow, “You did all that, for a cup?”

You nodded and reached into your gold chest and drew out the moving newspaper clipping with you bloody and trying to pull a set of shrieking toads from your hair as the Minister of Magic held the cup in front of you and the young Albus and ghostly pale Nicholas both trying to help you with your hair. “It’s more like a trophy. We don’t get to keep it, but my name was engraved on it with the others.”

Balin stared at it, “How is it moving?”

“Oh, it’s enchanted. Our pen ink is the same, so our doodles can move as well.”

Thranduil, “Ah, that explains the fountains in your sketches.” Gently he claimed the picture eyeing the pair behind you, “Your friends?” You nodded. “They seemed fond of you indeed.”

You couldn’t help but smirk, “Nicholas was married and Albus, was otherwise attached to someone else.”

Thor nodded, “Ah.” Thranduil set the clipping back in your chest and asked, “Any other hidden gifts?”

You shook your head, “Few blankets, books. No jewels though.” Your eyes shifted to the gifted velvet box into your gold chest before it was placed with your clothes again and that chest was closed and rose up causing the men to hop back eyeing the paw ended legs taking it through the room towards your closet. You flashed another smile, “The chests also have a hidden pocket inside thieves get trapped inside.”

They blinked at you before Kili and Fili laughed saying, “That is so cool!”

Thor smiled, eyeing the other book chest asking, “This one do the same?”

You nodded, “They’re sold in pairs or they tend to explode. It’s a simple spell.”

He grinned as Dain chuckled saying, “Handy spell indeed.” His eyes lowered to watch you close the chest that soon followed its twin to your closet.

Turning back to finish your meal again you watched Thorin on his path to meet with his waiting kin seeking answers about the process of moving back again. His warm hug and kiss on your cheek still coating you as you filled your fork and looked to Fili as he asked Thranduil, “You haven’t happened to teach her Dwarvish dances, have you?”

Thranduil shook his head, “No. We had lessons on several Elvish languages and a few traditional dances.”

Kili smirked, “Guess we’ll have to handle it then.”

Making your smile grow as Dain stood saying, “If you’ll excuse me, I’ve got to see to a few more details and I will make a stop in the library for a few introductory novels for our language.”

“Thank you.”

He bowed his head smiling at you through his turn away that drew the boys to join him on their own errands. With a smile Thranduil eyed the Elves entering to clean up after the meal as he extended his hand to guide you back to your room allowing you to dress again. Wetting your lips you pulled a simple tank top and silk lilac blouse on you tucked into your gifted pants and boots from the day before. In a reach up you wound the top half of your hair back and secured it with a hair clip shaped like a butterfly coated in a few fake silver gems in each point of the wings.

Nipping at your lip you quietly slipped through the doorway to Greenwood after tucking your wand behind your hair clip in its usual hiding place from your old world. Quietly you peeked through the King’s room and flashed him a brief wave when he exited his closet shirtless in a fresh pair of pants with a fresh under shirt in his hand and his boots in the other. His large smile grew as he stated, “That is a lovely shirt Dearest.”

You couldn’t help but smile approaching him, “Thank you,” in a lean down he set his boots at the foot of his bed and stepped closer to you watching your eyes scanning over his bare chest. You nipped at your lip and met his gaze asking, “Would it be alright if I hugged you?”

Holding back his comment and near chuckle he nodded and extended his arms knowing he had to allow you to understand he trusted you completely and you could do the same in return. In a step forward your body melted against his chest as your eyes closed, hearing his calming heart beat thumping against your ear while your hands smoothed slowly around his back. His arms eased around you while his cheek pressed to the top of your head as his smooth velvety voice drew you tighter around him, “My Dearest Love, you may touch me and hold me whenever you wish. You have my trust and my love, if you still wish to request permission first I will not argue against it as long as it is what you wish and not out of fear of my refusal. Something you will never receive, My Love.”

As you tilted your head back you eyes locked and he smiled as he leaned in to close the distance at your rise to your toes to claim a kiss. Warmly his lips molded to yours for the brief set of cautious pecks before his soft chuckle as your fingers traced the dip in the center of his back. In a purr he drew a blush from you when he asked, “Why would you ever assume I wouldn’t wish for you to touch me?”

“I-.”

He chuckled and nodded gently drawing your hands from his back to be planted on his chest, with a playful smile he added, “I trust you. First, my chest and stomach.” His hands folded around the backs of yours smoothing them over his chest and stomach deepening your blush before he released your hands drawing your eyes to his. “Now, my arms.” Holding them before him he smirked and nodded his head to encourage you to follow the mild order. Dropping your gaze your hands left his middle to gently land on his wrists and smooth up and around his arms and shoulder before he smoothed his hands around your middle guiding you to the bed’s edge where he sat down, “Now, shoulders.”

Wetting your lips you were helped onto his lap and timidly smoothed your hands over his shoulders and up his neck at his next order. “Now my hair.” You smirked and combed your fingers through his hair, “Ears,” he chuckled as you traced the ridge of his ears and cupped his cheeks through the kiss you claimed from him. A low hum left him through his lean into it working his lips against yours while he held back his shiver at your fingers tracing just under his jaw. Quickly your lips left his to press to the tip of his nose earning another chuckle from him when his forehead pressed to yours for a moment before he claimed another gentle kiss from you. “We’ve covered above the waist, now-…”

Your panicked glance up at his eyes brought him to lift you and set you beside him as he stated, “Feet.”

Softly you looked him over asking, “What?”

He shifted on the bed raising both his legs to hold his feet just above your lap smirking at you, “Feet.” You weakly giggled disbelievingly and he repeated a bit firmer in his joking tone, “Now now, you can’t stop now.”

Your giggle sounded again as he moved his feet closer to you as he wiggled his toes causing you to lean back avoiding them as you spotted the curious Prince Legolas eyeing the pair of you when he entered. Again he added, “They’re clean.”

You giggled again and called out to the Prince now halfway to the bed, “Legolas your Ada is trying to make me touch his feet!”

Legolas snickered stating, “Lord Celeborn was requesting a word with you.”

Thranduil sighed curling his legs before him as you sat up allowing him to pull you closer to him to claim another gentle kiss and to press his forehead against yours before he mentally stated in a comforting tone, “My game would have stopped at my knees Love. I will never force that.” His lips met yours again as he claimed your hands and placed them on his feet making you giggle as he let out a victorious laugh and turned to stand and face his Son.

Legolas smiled at his Father saying, “Ada, I was speaking to Naneth actually.”

“Me?”

Legolas nodded and you stood while Thranduil pulled on his under shirt and boots saying, “Possibly about the barriers and doorways.” You nodded and eyed the silver robe he had grabbed causing him to pause and glance between it and you, “Is there another you would prefer?”

“Would you be against the green one?”

He smiled softly and nodded entering his closet and returning with a pale green one he held up, “This one?” You nodded and he slid it on, turning to his shelf inside the closet to add his crown and join your side offering his hand to leave another kiss on your knuckles for the path to join the Elf Lords, securing the long trail of buttons along the way.

A simple set of glass marbles enchanted with a simple sunlight spell were tossed through the open front gate of the kingdom and flew off in separate directions before the gates were sealed at the King’s order to assure no spiders could escape the spell. Their distant cries eventually died as you joined Lord Celeborn in the library beside Lord Elrond peering over the layers of sketches and diagrams of the former fortress in Southern Greenwood. When you entered you smiled at them and examined each of them before using a nearby closet to let you enter the fortress again to use an old spell to reform the ruined Palace back together again and send a bubble spell that formed around all of Greenwood. A spiraling set of arches were formed into doorways to each Elven Kingdom allowing you into Rivendell and Lothlorien as well.

Your path back to your new lands brought your eyes to a set of small enchanted wooden boat figurines shaped like ducks earned a curious furrow from your brows before Lord Celeborn stated, “We have received word our kin is returning from Valinor.”

You nodded after Thranduil smiled at you lowering your hand from his lips to say, “We will be needing more room for our kin.”

A voice called through your doorway claiming the Elven King from your side freeing you to wander freely back towards Erebor. In the long day the Elven councils got locked into a lengthy debate that would last through the night. Your wandering path brought you to Thorin’s side where you simply leaned against his side allowing him to curl his arms around you in your tightening nuzzle and hug. His smirk grew through his continuing his orders until he could lead you back to start a simple lunch. The meal ended with you claiming the stack of Khuzdul books into your room when Thorin had to head back to another debacle a group of Dwarves were causing.

Alone again you pulled on a silk nightgown and walked towards the growing amount of sighs coming from Thorin’s study. With a hot mug of tea you entered drawing his exhausted eyes straight to you. A smirk spread on his face and grew into a large smile in your path to him. Gingerly his hand molded around the warm mug as you sat on the bare corner of his desk and asked, “Returning Dwarves giving you trouble?”

A heated gaze from him slid over you as subtly as he could manage after he set his mug aside, “Yes. Plus we received a response from the Southern Kingdoms.”

“Bad news?”

“They are sending an ambassador to confirm the reclamation of Erebor, the King’s Stone and Moria.”

With a near glare you replied, “I’m halfway tempted to send a doorway and drag them through it.”

He chuckled lowly, “Well Darling. I do hope it doesn’t come to that.” Leaning back in his chair he moved his hand to claim one of your feet to gently start massaging it, “But I do hope it doesn’t come to that. I am certain our joined Kingdoms will be enough of a deterrent for them to do anything foolish.”

Inch by inch he worked his hands over your lower legs and feet sharing his day without you until your hand was offered to him silently asking him to stand. His fingers stayed on your lower legs as he stood, his smirk inching back when your fingers gripped his shirt loosely drawing him closer to you. In a low purr as his forehead met yours while your hands smoothed under his shirt along his sides after your hushed request to remove the thin layer between you, he said, “Remove any of my layers whenever you wish Darling. I am entirely at your service Kurkarukê.”

His lips met yours through your hands raising his shirt, in a reach up he gripped it and pulled it off once your lips had left his. In a glance over his broad chiseled chest with dark hair coating his pecks and tapering off into a trail towards his navel disappearing below his waistband you asked, “What does that mean?”

He smirked at you inching closer again bringing a wave of warmth from his bare skin just inches from yours stirring a soft blush over your cheeks, “My tiny Raven.” You couldn’t help but roll your eyes and raised your hands to press your fingertips to his navel starting a path higher to his chest and shoulders after he said, “I trust you. If you’re wishing for my permission to touch me you have it.” Through a soft sigh his heated gaze fell over you again when your fingers smoothed around his neck and you leaned in for another kiss. A single gentle kiss grew into fiery passionate embraces and muffled sighs leaving the King on his knees at your feet.

Inch by inch he left gentle warm kisses from your ankles higher between rising presses of fingers over your legs towards your heated core soon uncovered after a request from you to not stop after his head pausing at your upper thigh. Soft gasps left you through your head rolling back when he dove straight to the task of drawing more pleased moans and sighs from you. Against his urge to keep going he rose when he tipped you over the edge, firmly he pulled you against his chest curling you in his arms when he caught your ripple of emotions in your eyes.

Carefully in his arms you nestled trying to hold back your tears as he murmured, “I love you. Every moment with you I will devote to caring for your every need and desire.” Your head tilted back to meet his adoring gaze, his lips met your nose sweetly, “No one is going to hurt you or our future family, I swear it.”

His fingers caressed your cheek tenderly, “I know.”

The rising heat in your eyes from his rising heart beat at your legs wrapping around his waist, “Are you enjoying this? My touching you?” You nodded and he couldn’t help but purr when your legs slid higher on his sides, “Did you want me to keep going?”

Barely above a whisper you replied, “Yes.”

He nodded ghosted his lips against yours for a hint of a kiss while his hands slid along your thighs again, “Would you mind moving to the bed, so you can lay back?”

With your nod he claimed a firmer kiss gripping your legs as your arms circled his shoulders for him to carry you to his bed. “I am going to please you then until you tell me to stop.” His bulge brushed against your core and he caught your flinching expression, “All this, is to please you. My pants stay on until you want them off. All of this is for you, I will not go farther than you wish and you do not have to touch me at all unless you wish to.” You nodded and the warm stack of furs welcomed you into the giant cloud like mattress he laid you across holding his lips on yours until your muffled whimper against his lips sending him down again.

Moans and soft muffled whimpers came from you until your whimpered request to stop bringing him up again to melt into your hum filled kiss. On his side he curled you in his arms continuing your loving embrace as your fingers smoothed across his chest and back. Inch by inch they trailed lower to his waistband then dipped underneath after his cautioning reminder you did not have to touch him that melted into an oddly pleasing moan from him.

Centuries back you could remember each burning moment your mind had not erased at the swooping death’s venom you had been given by your saviors to ease the pain of what you had endured. But a few memories and glimpses still lingered around the Son you had never been able to hold in your arms or protect form your cruel captors. Rough chapped lips and scarred brittle hands sliced from decades of scraping and tearing the earth they had tended for food each day between the repairs on the outer walls on their borders. A raspy gritted voice from the now faceless man pinning you down in the soul tearing continuous thieving act he’d bought you for.

Thorin however left each heart achingly tender brush and caress of his fingers across your skin between firm grips and strokes from his palms in a somehow welcome claiming grip you had wanted from him. You had been owned and stolen centuries ago, but his every loving murmur and heated gaze over you revealed his wish to fill you entirely and complete your marital bond as you had been raised to believe it was his right to do so. Your lines were drawn by him and he would not cross them, holding true to that you nipped your lip starting to believe that his words were true and you were in control, something that brought the thought of giving in to the urge to allow him to do just that.

Each thought now doubling as the Elf King’s promises had been the same as well. Clearly with more time together these thoughts had passed through your mind stirring up an old ache inside you always rising to the surface when you had fallen helplessly for someone. Every inch of you burned to have another chance at a family, and now with not just one but two Husbands that possibility had become so much more possible. The only thing holding you back was their clear distaste for one another you hoped they could look past with enough time.

Clearing your racing thoughts you focused on his reaction to your timid strokes growing firmer through your tongue darting between his lips meeting his in a fevered reaction. Tender fingers brushed higher on your thighs and dipped between them at their shifting granting him silent permission. Soft whimpers sounded against his lips again and his lips left yours as he drew back to turn and lay on his other side after a purred request to taste you again. Firmly his hands cupped your ass drawing you to kneel above him within moments leaving you staring at his halfway exposed groin through your first low moan at his hands guiding you in a rock above him after he settled your nightgown out of his way around his head.

In a resettling breath your hand shifted from the bed sheets to return to its firm strokes drawing low moans from him sending vibrations through his lips and tongue as he neared his peak. This shared action and clear show of trust you had found in him settling your bond together in matrimony earned growing moans from him causing his throbbing arousal in your hands to release its first warning droplet you wet your lips in a silent encouraging mental murmur to yourself. Your lips sank to just around his head as his lips shifted onto your thighs to muffle his loud moan while his hands gripped your ass tightly through his climax. The lack of a hand gripping your head to shove it lower earned a swallowing of his seed willingly before a couple swipes of your tongue to claim the few left over drops.

Your head rose after and your body froze at the door opening revealing Dwalin with his wide eyes spotting Thorin’s knees around your head with you on your knees. Rapidly he stated in Khuzdul, “I’ll handle it” before shutting the door again and rushing out of the apartment. Your ragged breath however in your struggle to fight back the flickering memory of your captor’s Brother coming in for his turn after Thorin slid free from under you, he wiped his face and sat up cautiously easing closer to you after his eyes locked on yours.

A tear down your cheek only came to your attention at his fingers brushing it away as he rumbled out in a low soothing tone, “I’m right here. No one is hurting you again.”

You nodded and eased against his chest allowing him to slowly wrap you in his arms between peppered kisses across your forehead, “Can, we lock the door next time?”

His lips found your forehead again, “Absolutely Kurkarukê. If you want a deadbolt added I will see to it myself.”

“I, know Dwalin wouldn’t, I-.”

“I understand. Anything you need to feel safe let me know.” You nodded and pulled back to claim a timid kiss, in a purr, “Did you want a bath?”

“Would-?” His adoring smile drew the rest of your request out of you, “You join me?”

“Absolutely.” Weakly you smiled and he slid you to the edge of the bed helping you up and guided you to your closet where he left you with a gentle kiss purring again, “I’ll add your oils and grab a set of clothes for me as well.”

You nodded and knelt to pull out a fresh set of panties and another nightgown before you used your clip to pull your hair up. In your bath you eyed the mixing herbs in the spring fed bath then turned as Thorin joined you smiling as he set his pants next to your clothes and crossed to you claiming another gentle kiss. “Did you want me to turn?”

You shook your head and reached up to brush down one of the straps, “Just no pitying gazes.”

His brows furrowed as he replied, “I would never!”

Wetting your lips you dropped your second strap and eased your gown down to the floor allowing him to see you fully without anything to hide your scars. Cautiously he inched closer easing his hands around your sides to claim another kiss you melted into, reaching down you untied his pants stripping him as well. Fully exposed your eyes closed and he curled around you when you nestled against him for a tight embrace. In a hushed whisper you stated, “I love you.”

With a growing grin he replied, “I love you. There is not an inch of you I don’t adore.”

Pulling back again you eyed him fully drawing his smirk out as he held out his arms leaving your hands on his chest to slide over his side onto his back when he turned around giving you a full look. He chuckled lowly and claimed your hand, pressed a kiss to your palm and led you into the bath where you lounged in his lap wrapped safely in his arms against his chest. Wetting your lips you asked, “What, um, what role does an Aunt play for Dwarves typically?”

With a deep inhale Thorin realized what painful situation Dis must have put you in, “Nothing’s required past the naming ceremony. Just being present at my side, well wishes and a gift. Did the offer upset you?”

“Not the offer. Just, I didn’t realize she was pregnant before.”

“We can stay in your kingdom if it bothers you. Or I can place her and Vili in charge of the Blue Mountains.”

With a soft giggle you replied, “No. It wouldn’t matter, a lot of the Hobbits are pregnant and Bilbo received word of more pregnancies already. I just, it’s just and old ache, from me.”

Around your middle his arms tightened, “How can I help?”

“I don’t want to, seem like, like this, tonight-.”

Against your ear he rumbled sweetly in a curious tone, “You want a child?” You nodded and turned your head to rest against his cheek, “I would never assume you would ever cross any intimate boundaries simply to conceive.” His lips planted on your forehead, “We have both agreed that any child will belong to us three. And no matter how soon or far off we will be thrilled to conceive with you. Please don’t doubt that. We may not agree on everything but we do agree on you and everything pertaining to your protection and happiness.”

A grumble from you caused him to release you when you shifted at the scar herbs itching your skin, “I can’t stand these scar herbs.”

He smiled accepting your hand to climb out and dry off. Once dressed he curled you in his arms for another kiss then joined you on the path to your bed after adding your dirty clothes to your hamper. Lovingly he wrapped you in his arms claiming another kiss in his nuzzling closer to you for the night under your tall pile of furs.

In the early morning light of the sunrise Thorin stirred and kissed your forehead giving you a hushed request for you to sleep as long as you wished on his path to dress and ease through the Elven doorway as Thranduil sat on the foot of his bed grumbling to himself in Elvish. Falling silent he eyed Thorin and nodded his head in return to Thorin’s nod, “Thorin.” He wet his lips, “Is Tiger upset with me?”

Thorin shook his head, “No. I, wished to speak with you about something.”

Thranduil nodded settling his hands on his thighs focusing on trying to read his every minute physical action to work out the meaning for this abrupt conversation. “About what?”

“Tiger.” Thranduil straightened up in his deep inhale ready to barge out of the room, “If, should you both decide to become, intimate.”

“Does this really need to be discussed now?”

Thorin nodded, “If you should, ask her if she wishes to have the door locked.”

Thranduil’s eyes narrowed, “Why would you-.”

Thorin’s hand rose, “Dis asked Tiger to play a role in her Pebble’s lives. Increasing her struggle-.”

“She is wishing to conceive? Already?”

Thorin nodded, “Clearly we are both attractive and trusted by her. That trust is deepening and I do believe soon we will be planning a, schedule, or, times alone with our Wife to increase her chances.”

Thranduil nodded, then eyed the Dwarf steadily through an inhale, “My kin, we have customs, is there a risk of conception already?”

Thorin shook his head, “No.”

“It was the sealing of your bond then?”

Thorin nodded, “And an earning of her trust.” After wetting his lips his brows furrowed to ask as Thranduil’s chin tilted slightly in curiosity, “Did she ask permission to touch you? Even for a hug?”

Thranduil nodded, “Yes.” Thranduil started unbuttoning his outer robe, “I, it wasn’t really a game, but I, guided her through it.” Thorin nodded holding back his tension as best he could, “I started with my arms. Kept it above the waist, except for my feet.” Thorin raised a brow watching Thranduil stand and take his robe to his closet, “It made her laugh after she tensed at what was left on me. Then we got called away.” Thranduil walked into his closet then returned without his boots or crown with a soft sigh pulling his under shirt from under his waist band. “I will remember your tip. Anything else?”

“There was a pause when reciprocation popped in her mind. But that was handled.” In a glance at the door behind him Thorin added, “I’ll let you rest. Tiger is in her bed, I have to go see what my Cousin wanted.” He glanced at the Elf King eyeing your door and smirked, “Go curl around her. She was wondering where you were.” He nodded his head again and left the now smiling Elf King who turned to claim the tulip he had picked for you and entered your room. The smile on his face grew spotting your wearing one of his gifted nightgowns as he climbed onto the bed to sit at your side.

The shifting of the bed opened your eyes bringing a sleepy smile as he offered his tulip asking, “Forgive me?”

You brushed down the covers inviting him to snuggle with you as you mumbled back, “You look tired.” Leaving your tulip on the nightstand he slid under the covers and held you in his arms to claim as much sleep as possible after accepting your kiss.

Pt 6

#Thorin x Reader x Thranduil #Hobbit #lotr #HP Crossover

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daggerzine · 3 years

Text

Never too late. Sorrows’ Arthur Alexander brings us up to speed.

Though NYC power pop band Sorrows began way back in 1980 (the year their debut LP, Teenage Heartbreak was released) my introduction to them was about a decade ago when the Bomp label released the Bad Times Good Times record. Ok, so I was three decades late, that’s ok. Arthur Alexander, Joey Cola, Ricky Street and Jett Harris made up Sorrows and these guys made the NYC scene, wowing crowds at CBGB’s. Max’s Kansas City and other NYC clubs. Fast forward to a few months ago when I read that the Big Stir label is reissuing Sorrows 2nd album, Love Too Late…..well, sort of. Arthur and the guys re-recorded it (with 3/4 of the original lineup…Luis Herrera replacing Jett on drums) and retitled it, Love Too Late……the real album. You can read all about the specifics below but this new version sounds fantastic! The songs are punchy, hooky and, well, just great songs. I tossed some questions Arthur’s way and he was more than happy to gimme the skinny. Read on, dear readers and do check out the “new” album (also check out Bomp’s Poppee’s compilation, Pop Goes the Anthology. Arthur and Jett’s pre-Sorrows band).

Old-school Sorrows

So going way back what happened to the original album Love Too Late?

Our well-received debut album “Teenage Heartbreak” under the belt, we were ready to record a follow-up. We were going to London to record it, got the legendary Shel Talmy (The Who, The Kinks, The Easybeats, etc.) to produce it and the world was ours for the taking.

Well, the stars were not exactly aligned the way we had hoped, and literally, right from the start.

First, after landing at Heathrow, Her Majesty’s Immigration Officials took exception to a bunch of guys in black leather jackets, hauling a music store worth of guitars and wanted to know what do they owe this pleasure to. “What do you mean?! Step aside, we’re here to record our masterpiece album!”, said the clueless foursome us. Turns out, in their infinite wisdom our record label didn’t even bother securing work visas for us, so our “Welcome to UK” passport stamps quickly turned into “Order to deport”. After long negotiations at the airport by yours truly, playing Henry Kissinger for a day, I managed to convince them to let us in, somehow, with a special short term tourist visa. Say bye-bye to any possible gigs while we’re here as well.

On the second (first?) day of recording Shel decided to replace Jett Harris, our drummer. Out went Jett, in came some studio hack with a feel for rock ‘n roll of a… studio hack. In all fairness, a nice enough chap, quick study and a proficient drummer, but played with the fire and intensity of a McDonald’s jingle session he probably just came from.

Right there, the heart of Sorrows was no longer beating.

In the ensuing days we discovered that we also no longer had three lead singers, but instead, Joey Cola became the “lead singer” of the band; a bunch of studio singers were singing all of our harmonies; our ferocious two-guitar onslaught was gone, drowning under the layers of synthesizers and the singing army of castratos.

When I heard the work in progress, I realized I basically had very limited options: fire Shel Talmy (or throw him down the stairs – plan B); shred the tape, or leave. Being a well-mannered idiot that I was I chose the latter. I packed my stuff, wrote Shel a note that I want nothing to do with this record, requesting that he erase all my guitar tracks (which of course he didn’t honor, no surprise there) and walked out of the studio, never to return.

After coming back to New York we were on an immediate collision course with the label. We told them this record is a total fake, we want nothing to do it and are going right back to being the band we are (were)… wait, or how about back to being the band they signed?

It didn’t come as much of a surprise to anyone, except for the label, that the record was a total stiff. The DJs didn’t want to play it and our fans, even though they liked the songs, knew instinctively this was not a “Sorrows record”.

LTL...the original album cover. Arthur says- “For what it’s worth, I always liked the cover. Maybe, subconsciously, I was desperately looking for something to like about this piece of shit with our name on it we were forced to live with.”

Did the band break up immediately afterward?

No, not immediately, but the writing was on the wall… Joey turned into a full-blown junkie, disappeared into a haze of drugs and alcohol and was fired from the band; a replacement was found, which the label would not accept; then Ricky left, another replacement…

Finally, I said ‘enough’ and dissolved the band.

What came next? Did you (and the other guys) keep writing/recording music?

Yes, I put my own studio together and immersed myself in working on my own stuff and producing other artists; Joey… who knows what he did, I’m just glad he eventually reemeged from the land of the dead, is thriving and back to making music again; Ricky played with a couple of other bands, and Jett too, before retiring from the business altogether.

Had you been in touch with the other guys the whole time or not?

On and off, absolutely. There’s no “bad blood” between us, just life taking its course and the fact that I moved to Los Angeles so we are now bi-coastal, the rest of the guys still live in New York/New Jersey area. And of course we would get together for the sessions in the process of working on this release.

The Bomp comp (Per Arthur- “essentially, a re-release of “Teenage Heartbreak”, with bonus tracks and vastly improved mixes”)

Was there a legal issue with being able to record the songs again (did a label own the rights)?

Yes. like with so many other bands, we signed our lives away. Musically speaking, they owned us lock, stock and barrel. It took years and years of negotiating with CBS, then SONY, all of it going nowhere. It wasn’t until the Orphan Works Act was passed by the US Congress in 2011 that allowed us to reclaim the rights to our songs and recording masters.

At what point did you decide to re-record the songs?

As I like to say, I made that decision the first week of our London sessions with Shel Talmy, after I walked out of there and never came back. I didn’t know how or when. I just knew I was not going to allow this piece of fake crap with our name on it to be our legacy for this record. They decided to fuck with the wrong guy. It just took 40 years to get it done, but who’s counting?!

How did drummer Luis Herrera come into the picture? He’s excellent!

When in 2011 “Bad Times Good Times” album was released by Bomp! Records (essentially a re-release of “Teenage Hertbreak”, only way better sounding!) we started touring to support the album. Since Jett was out of the picture we needed a new drummer. On one of my nights out to LA clubs I spotted Luis playing with his band at the time. Couldn’t take my eyes off of him… and the rest, as they say, is history. Luis is also a part of my Arthur Alexander Band here in LA and played on both of my solo records, “One Bar Left” which came out in 2018 and the new one I’m finishing right now, coming out soon.

How was the first rehearsal?

Amazing. It was just the three of us, Luis, Robbie Rist on bass and me. Joey was about to fly into LA to join us. We started running through the songs and from the first downbeat it felt like a jet taking off… uplifting!

How was it to work with Robbie Rist?

Excruciating and orgasmic, all at the same time!… I hate that guy! He makes me feel so woefully inadequate! Kidding aside, I love this guy! Robbie is a true child prodigy, an amazing drummer, guitarist, singer, you name it. I don’t think there’s anything this guy can’t do. But he does like to march to his own drum machine and that can be problematic at times. Other than the times when I’m chasing after him with a meat cleaver?... a total joy to work with! lol

How did contact with Big Stir Records come about?

It was really “organic”… They were holding a series of monthly Big Stir concerts and invited my Arthur Alexander Band to partake. It went from there. I got to know them not only as fellow musicians but also as people. When the time came to look for a label for “Love Too Late… the real album”, it was a no-brainer. The label profile was tailor-made for the kind of music Sorrows do, and even more important, they were the kind of people whose circle I wanted to be a part of. Heart and soul, no bullshit – that’s the only thing I have room for at this point in my life.

LTL...the new version

Who are some of your favorite current artists?

Not much to speak of on the national/international scene, I really can’t think of any. On a local LA scene Pat Todd and The Rankoutsiders. Great fucking band, these guys should be playing stadiums, not LA dives!

Will there be more recording? Any live shows?

Funny you should ask!... After coming back from that Shel Talmy London cluster fuck, we were soooo totally disheartened, deflated, feeling beaten and betrayed.

There ain’t no cure for rock & roll blues better than some balls-to-the-wall rock ‘n’ roll, the Sorrows way!

We reconnected with Mark Milchman, one of the producers on “Teenage Heartbreak; reconvened at Mediasound Studio in New York where we recorded “Teenage Heartbreak”; set up mics, our amps and drums and in the course of one night ripped through an album’s worth of material. And that’s the next Sorrows album you’re gonna hear!

Live shows?... ummm…waiting for the anti-vaxxer assholes to get a clue or die. I have no appetite for going to a club to play a show, get 2 drink tickets, a few bucks and Covid as an extra bonus.

Arthur giving the one finger salute.

www.bigstirrecords.com

www.bigstirrecords.bandcamp.com

www.bompstore.com

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yuri-or-death · 7 years

Text

“Mnemosyne” Fiction|Smut

Moodboard by @48gmoodboards

Characters: Matsui Jurina (Mnemosyne), Matsui Rena (Lethe); Kojima Haruna (Persephone); Oshima Yuko (Hades)

Summary: Time moves forward. The mind forgets but the heart remembers.

Author’s note: This is my take on the Lethe x Mnemosyne prompt suggested by @rukakikuchi. She made Part 1 and I made Part 2 with some tweaks from her. I’m not a hardcore wmatsui shipper like before but they are still very precious. I hope you guys enjoy this. It was an “emotionally draining but totally worth it writing experience”.

P.S. An anon asked me for a smut so so so long ago, but it is only now that I succumbed to it. You guys, this is my first smut so do forgive me if it falls short.

WARNING: Smut!

XXXXXXXXXX

Hours pass

The weeks turn into months

And I’m still alone

Wondering when I’ll see you

Still I watch the hourglass

The symbol of our love

When we were so sure

Our love would be everlasting

(The S.O.S. Band - “Sands of Time”)

~*~*~*~

They cannot kill me even if they wish it with all their heart. They cannot destroy me even if I am the last of the ancient immortals.

I am nostalgia; I am melancholy; I am yearning; I am desire.

I am the forbidden knowledge of the world.

I am Mnemosyne.

Time flows like an endless river reaching the large expanse of the open sea. Without end or beginning. It trickles without pause; without caution—with selfish inevitability. Time heeds no one’s bidding. It grants no one’s request. It only moves forward despite the unquenchable thirst in our hearts to remain as we are or as we once were.

Pale feet slowly paced to and fro; the clinking of chains echoed in the vast labyrinth. The shadows shifted with each movement, it was almost as if they were dancing. Faint light came from the fissure on the ceiling, without it, everything would have been consumed by the void.

An entity, a young woman lifted her face to meet the soft glow of moonlight. A chain around her neck glistened. Beyond her prison was an endless night with a thousand stars, shimmering galaxies, comets darting across space and yet she could never fully see their true splendor.

“How long…how many more eons?” She whispered. The woman’s blueish lips were chapped; her ashen face devoid of life was still tragically beautiful. She reached out to the light as if willing to grasp it in her slender fingers.

“Guardian of Time, Keeper of Memories.” A voice from nowhere and yet from everywhere rang inside the chamber. “I’ve come to bargain with you.”

The pallid young woman moved away from the light, retreating to the safety of her veil of darkness. “I have nothing left to give or take.”

“Why do you let this prison hold you? You who has lingered in this realm before us, you who has seen the passage of eons?”

The Guardian closed her eyes. True, she was the personification of eternity itself. True, she was more powerful than these gods—old and new. But she has grown weary and apathetic of the affairs of deities and mortals alike. “Nothing is worth destroying, just as nothing is worth saving.”

The voice laughed. “I will break your chains, Mnemosyne, but you must make them remember who we are.”

The passage of time had made humans forget the deities they once worshiped and without faith, the gods fade away. “Those mortals have forsaken you gods, your powers wane, your altars disregarded, your odes unsung. Tell me now, what use will I have for your promise of freedom?”

“Because deep within you heart you wish for freedom, a chance to see her again. And I can give you that, for I am Hades and the underworld belongs to me.”

“You cannot trifle with human souls, the one I loved has long passed on.” Mnemosyne has resigned herself to waste away in this dungeon. Without the light of her life, everything is for naught.

“I can…and I will.” The walls of the dark chamber started to collapse as the earth rumbled and shifted. The fracture in the ceiling grew and grew until it caved. For the first time in a thousand years, Mnemosyne was bathed in moonlight.

“I will bring back the mortal so dear to you and you must keep your end of the bargain.” Hades materialized before her but only in smoke and shrouds of shadow.

“I am the Guardian of Time, Keeper of Memories. I listen to no god.”

“But you listen to your heart.”

Mnemosyne’s eyes widen, she was unmistakably stirred by Hades’ words. The longing within her burned like a thousand suns, consuming her soul.

“Well then,” She lifted her hands; soft light glowed from her fingertips. A chalice with golden liquid was formed in her grasp: the nektar of nostalgia from the very river of memory itself. “You have a deal.”

~*~*~*~

Year 755 A.D.

Once in every century, I am permitted to walk the earth for forty days and forty nights. Every cycle, I renew the bonds of time and memory within the roots of the tree of life. I drench it with the nektar from my river so that the knowledge from the past, the present, and the future continue to flow. More than anything, it is a moment of freedom to wander away from my prison—my most coveted chance to see the one I love.

The mistress of the river of forgetfulness was busy picking indigo flowers scattered about the riverside. She delicately laced them into bracelets.

“Excuse me,” A silken voice interrupted her crafting work. She turned back only to see a young maiden, who perhaps recently entered adulthood. “I seemed to have lost my way.”

“I see…you are a new dweller here.” The mistress smiled as she reached for the girl’s hand to fasten the flower bracelet around the latter’s wrist.

“Who are you and where am I?” The girl wore deep purple robes that were reminiscent to clothing from the Eastern empires. Her hair was the color of an ebony crow while her facial features were dignified and quite sharp.

“I have been called by many names, but I like Rena the best.” Said the mistress, her pure white dress almost glistened. “This is the River of Lethe, your passage to the afterlife.”

“So I am dead.” It was more of a statement than a question from the young girl whose mannerisms seemed older than her age. “I guess those assassination attempts finally bore fruit.”

“Perhaps.” Rena tried to change the flow of the conversation; usually souls of the newly deceased become unstable at the first instance of learning their demise. “You are wearing a rather lavish kimono, your fine garbs tell me that you may be royalty.”

“I come from the land of the crimson sun. Yet my rank bears no importance here.” The newcomer scoffed, stretching her arms so that the yards of fabric flowed more smoothly. “I detest wearing these troublesome draperies more than anything in my life.”

“You find the nuances of nobility rather distasteful?” Rena observed the girl whose funeral garbs seemed to endlessly annoy her. Her whole ensemble spoke nothing but pedigree. Clearly, she was buried with the rites fit for a princess, but her actions and the manner of speaking betrayed her distaste concerning her status.

“I find everything about it repulsive. After all, I am a warrior not a princess.” The girl started to rip her clothes in the attempt to ease her movement. “My name is Jurina.”

“Welcome to the gaol of souls, Jurina. For forty days and forty nights you are to linger in my abode before you may pass over.”

“Why?”

Rena raised an eyebrow at Jurina’s blunt response. “Why? Why what?”

“Why must souls stay here in your upkeep?”

“To reflect about their lives, their hopes and their anguish. So that they may make a choice on whether or not they wish to be reborn or to remain in peaceful slumber.” Rena explained, the steady rhythm of rushing water seemed to complement her voice. “This is the river of Lethe. When the time is right, it will erase all attachments to your previous life.”

“Then in the meantime, I suppose we should get acquainted Milady of the River?” Jurina asked impishly, holding out her hand, which was decorated with the flower wristlet from Rena.

The mistress of Lethe shook it in response. “You will forget me, nevertheless.”

~*~*~*~

Year 1608 A.D.

The era of literature and the arts has flourished once again after centuries of strife and darkness. They call it the Renaissance. Humans have found solace in creativity and innovation. I continue to drench the roots of the earth with the nektar from the river of memory.

Today, my 366th cycle has arrived.

“Rena, what lies beyond this river?” The girl, decked in layers of red fabric and fur, beside her queried. Her clothing had distinct golden embroidery similar to the Tudor’s floral emblems. Her overall appearance gave an impression of opulence and yet Rena knew she was not of aristocracy. The girl’s garbs were a bit too plain for a blueblood; save for the majestic Union Rose that embellished the chest area of her tunic.

Rena followed the girl’s line of sight. It seemed the young girl was captivated by the vision of Lethe flowing infinitely where the horizon and the body of water coalesce.

“I have not seen the river’s end myself. But I am told, that the river of forgetfulness pours itself to the river of Mnemosyne.” The mistress of the river Lethe turned to observe her companion’s expression. “Does it bother you, Jurina?”

“Mnemosyne?” Jurina’s eyebrows furrowed ever so slightly, as if in deep thought. “Who is she?”

“She’s the Keeper of Memories. A being far older than the gods themselves.” Rena knew tales about her, whispers from wind and chatters from other souls. Yet no one has seen her since she was imprisoned in the depths of the earth. “The Great Overseer of the Underworld created me at her request. I have always wanted to meet her.”

Jurina studied Rena’s face meticulously, as if trying to make sense of something. “Then go on and meet her,” was the girl’s simple reply. As if all the mysteries of the world were mere child’s play. “This realm is so vast and you cage yourself in a small patch of land. Are you not curious at all?”

“You would not know how much it burns me so.” Melancholy glazed Rena’s eyes. There was a sliver of yearning as she spoke. “But you see, I cannot leave. My existence is tied to the River of Lethe, if the link is severed, then I too shall disappear.”

“I see.” Jurina gave a slight nod, as if suddenly understanding the weight of Rena’s predicament. “You remind me of myself.”

“That’s rather…peculiar. What was your life before you came here?”

“I was a thespian, an actor, some would call. I performed for the Sovereign of England. Oh! It was an interesting time to be alive.” Jurina’s eyes sparkled with so much vivacity at the recollection. Fond memories of the grand opera and their glorious performances seemed to replay in her mind. “But similar to you, my maiden fair, I could not forsake the Queen’s Court. For I was born a slave—sold off from my home across the ocean,”

“To live without freedom.” Rena completed the sentence; her wistful gaze fell to her hands that had been weaving indigo flowers into bracelets before their conversation drew on. She shook the thought away. “Tell me then Jurina, what was your favorite play?”

Jurina drew an honest smile. She stood tall, dusted her robes and cleared her throat.

“Cure her of that.

Canst thou not minister to a mind diseased,

Pluck from the memory a rooted sorrow,

Raze out the written troubles of the brain?”

The young girl started her lines, all emotion brimming from her eyes. Her voice echoed with conviction as the words fell from her lips one by one. She motioned to reach for Rena who was sitting on the grass with lips agape. Jurina’s slender fingers touched the older girl’s chest, as if wanting to feel the rhythm of her heart.

“And with some sweet oblivious antidote

Cleanse the stuffed bosom of that perilous stuff

Which weighs upon the heart?”

Rena watched the thespian in awe, slightly bewildered how her newfound friend could suddenly shift her persona in an instant.

Jurina bowed, signifying the end of her performance. “That was from Shakespeare’s Macbeth.”

The mistress of the river took some more seconds to contemplate, the pilot light of empathy gleamed in her eyes. “Your protagonist…wanted to erase the memories that brought pain to a woman dear to him?”

“He did. He wanted an antidote for her despair, a way for her to forget.” Jurina expounded, as she brought herself down to Rena’s seated form once again. “I understand Macbeth’s feelings somehow.” She held Rena’s gaze intensely. “Because memories are painful things.”

There was so much anguish in Jurina’s last phrase that Rena swore she felt as if a knife had plunged itself into her heart. What pain does her memories hold, for this bright, strong soul to show such a despondent expression?

“Do you wish for me to erase them now? If it hurts you so… then I—” Rena was interrupted mid sentence when the brazen girl locked her in a tight embrace.

“We have some days left. Please don’t take away my time with you just yet.”

Rena’s eyes softened, she ran her fingers through Jurina’s ebony hair in the attempt to comfort her. “Seven days, Jurina.”

~*~*~*~

Year 1968 A.D.

The clinking of chains echoed in the abyss, as if slithering like serpents. A figure of a woman was shackled to the floor and ceiling, her neck, hands and feet were bound with titanium cuffs. One by one they were undone.

“I’ve come to awaken you, dear Mnemosyne.”

Mnemosyne’s eyes shot open at the sound of her name, a gust of wind so strong filled the chamber as her power surged. “Good morning, Persephone.” She smiled dangerously.

The one called Persephone, Queen of the Underworld, brought her hands up to touch Mnemosyne’s face as if easing her discordant emotions. “I do not understand why you do this; you tire yourself, you hurt yourself,” She stroked the other’s cheeks fondly. “Over and over again.”

The ancient being strode towards the Gates of Nevermore, a portal that opened every hundred years. “It is my only happiness.”

I shape the existence of the world.

I have saved them from their empty shells.

Memento Vivere; Memento Mori [remember to live; remember that all must die].

Thus the next cycle begins.

Jurina lay asleep at the side of the river, her head rested on the lap of the deity whose robes were all white. In contrast, Jurina wore a worn out camouflage uniform provided for the soldiers during the Cold War. Her hair was tied up in a messy ponytail, the crest of valor and other honorary badges glistened on her chest.

The mistress of Lethe fumbled with the locks of hair sprawled out on her lap like a black sunburst. She was humming a tune while contentedly watching over her companion.

Jurina awoke when Rena slightly stirred from her seating position. The soldier looked up sleepily at the lady of the river, seeing her smile.

“Ah, did I wake you?”

“I didn’t even realize I drifted off.” Jurina said, rubbing her eyes while sitting up. “It’s so calm and quiet here, that I became so relaxed and…” If she concentrated deeper, she swore she could still hear the sound of landmines exploding and a flurry of bullets which seemed to echo without end.

“I don’t blame you. Considering your final moments were in the heat of a battle.”

“Yes… it’s hard to catch your breath during a war,” Jurina let out a dry chuckle. “The Battle of Saigon wasn’t the prettiest.” She attempted to smoothen her unruly tresses but its untamed appeal remained. No matter what angle one looked, the young girl emanated an air of gallantry.

“Oh, it was the Vietnam War?” Rena tucked stray strands of hair behind Jurina’s ear. “Look at you, and they say chivalry is dead.” She teased.

“Hah! Was that a pun or a compliment?” The soldier grinned from ear to ear. She circled her arms around Rena’s waist.

“Can I tell you something strange?” Rena queried.

“Go on, anything.”

“There’s this burning familiarity inside me that says we’ve been like ‘this’ before; that I know you like the back of my hand.” Rena couldn’t put a name on the emotion she was feeling. Just that, there was this hanging shadow on her mind that kept her from recalling something.

“You say souls are reborn? Perhaps we have met a number of times and fell in love a number more. Quite romantic don’t you think, to fall in love with the same soul over and over again?”

“But then, shouldn’t I remember you?” The mistress of Lethe resolved.

As if the gears finally clicked in, the cogs and wheels started revolving; all too suddenly, the weight of their impending separation worried Jurina.

“I wish our time could be frozen. I wish I never have to leave.” Jurina whispered, her hot breath tingled Rena’s ear.

The river deity broke from the embrace, instead she laced their fingers together. “Don’t be too sad, the memories we share will find its way to the river of Mnemosyne—where all remains eternal.”

“I’ve heard legends about her..this Mnemosyne.”

“Fascinating that her name is known even in the mortal realm. Mnemosyne’s existence is an enigma even to us dwellers of the Underworld.” Rena broke their contact and proceeded to walk towards the river’s edge. Her gaze followed the water’s current until it fused with the horizon. “Tell me these legends. I would like to know what the humans say about her.”

“From what I know, she is as old as time itself. Being the Keeper of Memories, she holds knowledge of everything in existence, she knows of all myths ever born and of entire legacies of the mortal world. She is the Eternal Memory.”

“Eternal Memory? That’s definitely something I’ve never heard of…”

“I’ve read it in books. The Eternal Memory of past, present, and future. Like the forbidden fruit of Eden, she knows of both good and evil.”

“From the way you speak of her, she sounds more powerful than any God.”

“Infinitus memoriae, Mnemosyne,” Jurina then spoke. “That is what they called her. In memoria mundi (the memory of the world).“

“Latin?” “Yes.” Rena chuckled. “I’m surprised. It’s such an old language, mortals rarely ever use it anymore.” “I held a particular interest in learning it…things that are dead, things that are forgotten, I feel as if there is so much hidden depth in them.”

“You really are quite peculiar.” Rena released a heavy sigh. “Do you want to know what this realm speaks of the Keeper of Memories?” Now it was her turn to tell a tale.

Jurina nodded.

“They say she fell in love with a mortal, that she did everything within her power to stop the flow of time so that her beloved would not receive the kiss of death.” There was immeasurable sadness in Rena’s eyes as she recounted the story, like it was something close to her.

“Her transgression angered the gods so much that she was imprisoned for attempting to freeze time. Her beloved died nevertheless, and was cursed to never be reborn again. While Mnemosyne was left to waste away in the void.” The two women locked gazes, unspoken words wove themselves in each other’s heart.

There was a pregnant pause before Jurina broke the silence. “I think I know what happens next.”

“The gods realized that without Mnemosyne’s presence, the knowledge of the earth would eventually crumble. Her river, after all, was the consciousness of the universe. So they broke her bonds and struck a bargain,” Rena continued. “She meets the one she loves every hundred years in exchange for her vow of duty.”

“Like star-crossed lovers?” asked the soldier.

“Yes, like the sun and the moon; destined to dance together but never touch.”

“Like us.” Jurina whispered.

Rena turned to the soldier abruptly, quite surprised. Love? Was she allowed to feel that? Was her undead heart capable of such emotion? Did she have the luxury to give it to a passing soul? This girl would leave her soon enough.

“I see,” Jurina understood the river deity’s astonished reaction. “You do not love me.”

Rena shook her head, reaching for Jurina’s hand to stroke her wrist rather affectionately. “You are very precious to me.”

Jurina cupped Rena’s face, leaning in to close the distance between them. But before their lips connected, she desisted. “Forgive me…”

Their foreheads touched; hot breaths intermingled.

Rena closed her eyes, relishing the feeling of intimacy. Oh how she wished Jurina’s 40th day would never arrive. “Tomorrow, you must pass on.” But she could not keep the girl’s spirit here.

Jurina broke from Rena’s hold, she turned her back and knelt before the River of Lethe, dipping her fingers in its cool water. She did not want Rena to see the drops of tears she could not suppress. “I was just practicing how to say goodbye to you.”

~*~*~*~

Year 1997 A.D.

“Rouse her; invoke her name; call her to repair this at once!”

“Olympus would not approve of this, it has only been twenty-nine years since she returned to slumber, it is too soon.”

“Olympus be damned! Would you rather the consciousness of the universe crumble? These humans have placed too much strain on the Tree of Life, their impurities have corrupted it’s roots.” The world tree has shown signs of decay, and its corruption grew dire every passing hour.

“But my love, she insisted–”

“She will rise when she is needed, Persephone. There is no argument here.” Hades, the god of the Underworld commanded Mnemosyne’s awakening as soon as possible. “Tell Mnemosyne to purify it, lest the balance be tipped. Even us would not escape chaos then.”

I no longer remember how many lifetimes I’ve lived, all are but mere echoes of memories.

To see her once more, even for a moment, thus I would not dare break this routine.

In the river of Lethe, no memories remain.

In the river of Lethe, all things are peaceful;

In the river of Lethe, there is comfortable silence;

But not tonight–

The sound of clothes rustling, ragged breathing and bodies melding skin to skin filled the air.

Rena moaned as the woman lying below her traced deft fingers down her spine. “Ju..ri..na..” The name escaped her lips like a prayer. “No more…please,” She rested her forehead on the crook of her partner’s neck, taking a moment to breathe after their passionate exertion.

Once she recollected her bearing, the river deity locked gazes with the young mortal. “Let me?” Her voice was surprisingly leveled.

The sudden shift in who held the reins aroused Jurina. “Oh, is it my turn now?” She grinned mischievously.

“You’re quite skilled at this.” Rena vainly tried to hide her embarrassment but her blushing cheeks easily gave her away. “I hope I could be of service.” She began leaving a trail of feathery kisses on Jurina’s neck and nape, eager to provide an equally satisfying congress in exchange for what she had just experienced.

The human beneath Rena had a captivating presence, that she was sure of. But without her robes, she was nothing but pristine. Rena could endlessly wonder how a mere mortal commanded such deference. Except there were things to be done; a lovely maiden to claim and time was of the essence. “Tell me, if you dislike it.” She whispered hotly, a thread of saliva between her lips and Jurina’s ear.

“I am yours.” Jurina acquiesced, the scent of flowers filled her senses each time Rena drew close. Desire pooled at the pit of her stomach, Rena’s touch seemed to burn her skin. She let out a startled gasp at the sudden intrusion between her thighs. All her senses engrossed on the slender fingers plunging into her core with a rhythm in sync to their beating hearts.

Jurina stifled a moan, her toes curling as she desperately grasped on the robes beneath her that served as their cradle against the grass. Her free hand grabbed Rena’s arm. Passion, obfuscation: the fine line between sentience and carnal desire seemed to cave within her.

“Haaah..” The mortal released a deep sigh. “Hngghhh….” She writhed under the mistress of Lethe.

Rena kissed her forehead, her ministrations grew more erratic, more eager; plunge and then withdraw–it was a waltz between lovers.

“What a wonderful expression you have.” Rena prodded as she admired her own masterpiece. She separated her index and middle finger, stretching Jurina’s inner walls. Her thumb rubbed the bulb of nerve in Jurina’s core, multiplying the shocks of pleasure that ravaged the young woman’s body.

Jurina’s eyes were glazed with lust, her lips agape as she struggled to catch her breath.

“I love you.” Jurina asserted, the heat of desire enveloped her like a feverish dream. Her chest rose and fell rapidly as Rena continued to do what she wished with her body.

For a moment, a split of a second, the mistress of lethe was at a loss how to respond. Can love exists in this ephemeral encounter? Can love remain when no memories are left?

Love her?

A small part of Rena wished the young woman was just delirious. Slowly, she felt Jurina tense up beneath. Her walls constricting around Rena’s digits. Soon, she would find release.

“As I do.” Rena whispered, soft enough that it was barely audible to untrained ears. “You are everything to me.” Her fingers thrusted inside Jurina deeper and faster each time. The vision of her lover writhing and moaning by her hand aroused Rena as well.

Jurina’s mind was an unholy mess. The young woman was completely overcome by pleasure, throwing all caution to the wind. The one thing concrete was the feeling of Rena’s touch. She gripped Rena’s hips firmly as she rode the tremors of her own high, her body trembled in indulgence.

The mistress of Lethe locked Jurina in a tight embrace, coaxing her to relax.

“When the sun rises, my 40th day will have arrived.” Jurina labored to speak despite the waves of pleasure almost blacking out her mind.

“Hush…leave everything for tomorrow. Tonight, only you and I exist.”

In one swift movement, Rena disentangled herself from the panting girl. Before Jurina could even recollect herself, the deity had already pulled on her ankles, spreading her legs apart.

Rena’s hand slowly trailed its way to Jurina’s knee, the feathery sensation was electric. She buried her face between the mortal’s thighs, earning an uncharacteristic yelp that Jurina herself was unaware she could make.

Then Rena’s tongue slipped inside the crevice, hot liquid still leaking from the young woman’s previous release. One hand held Jurina’s leg in place while the other stroked her abdomen, fingernails grazing the silken skin.

“S-stop…I’m still–” Jurina said breathlessly, she ran her fingers through Rena’s hair, lightly clawing on the deity’s scalp. She swore she was going to lose her mind.

Each parting is like a knife wedged on my chest, once withdrawn, the pain is only secondary to the loneliness I feel.

Why is this pain perpetual and my wound incurable?

You are my everything,

No matter how many times I must endure this inconsolable anguish.

The mistress of Lethe prepares for her ward’s final voyage. She laces the indigo flower wristlet on the young woman’s left hand.

Jurina’s body lay motionless beside the river’s edge. Her eyes were closed as if in deep slumber. The river of forgetfulness has taken her memories, the final ritual will be complete.

“May your next life be more blessed than the one you left behind. May your spirit remain steadfast and untamed.”

She gave Jurina a bittersweet kiss on the lips.“I love you.” Rena whispered her parting words to her beloved, fixing the girl’s hands so that they were crossed atop her chest. Gently, ever so gently, Rena pushed Jurina’s body towards the river, letting the current carry her mortal vessel, a promise of new life at the other end.

The mistress of Lethe rose to her feet, her grip on her white dress grew firm as she watched the river carry Jurina towards a place she could never reach. “May we meet again.” She turned her back when the girl’s body was far beyond her sight.

In a split of a second, a moment’s breath, the invisible thread that connected two souls was broken. Rena gasped, as if a part of her soul just left her body.

All traces of Jurina was gone. No recollection– not her voice, her face, her scent, not even her name.

Rena blinked once, twice. Teardrops threatened to fall from her eyes, “What’s this? I’m crying?” She wiped the dampness on her cheeks. Bewildered, Rena spun to look at Lethe, its current flowed for always.

There was a void in her heart the could not be filled and her mind couldn’t grasp where her loneliness came from. “Why do I feel so sad?” She could no longer stop the tears from falling.

~*~*~*~

Jurina’s body finally drifted to the river of memory. In contrast to Lethe, the waters in the river of Mnemosyne lay perfectly still under the blanket of eternal night. Undisturbed like a mirror reflecting the stars. Instead of her mortal body disintegrating into spirit particles, the vessel that held Jurina’s soul glowed.

Jurina opened her eyes then slowly rose. She walked on water as if it was the steadiest pathway. When she finally reached the bank an apparition-like figure greeted her.

“Jurina? What’s with that name?” Hades’ gaze was incisive. The Overseer of the Underworld did not understand the Titan’s devotion. Just watching it unfold was tiresome to say the least.

“It means ‘Pearl’– something born from tears. The mortal I loved came from the East, she gave me that name.”

“How long will you play this farce, Mnemosyne?”

The ancient one did not care to respond this time. She merely made her way to where the chains that must bind her lay waiting.

“Are you not spent? Every cycle, every time you have to pretend to be some mortal seeking safe passage. You start from nothing and when love has finally blossomed in her heart, she forgets you.” Hades droned on like a crone. In spite of it, Mnemosyne knew the deity meant no harm, only concern for her seemingly self-destructive decisions.

The Keeper of Memories stood above the pile of chains, upon contact with her skin they seemed to come to life, slithering across her body like pythons. “A second, a minute, an hour, a day with her though fleeting is better than living without her at all.” The chains wound on her body glowed brightly, it was only then that one would notice that it was actually connected to the river itself.

Hades’ lips opened to speak, but the deity decided against the thought of arguing altogether. “Do what you will; our bargain stands regardless. It is not my position to tell you how to spend your freedom.”

“You have my thanks.” Mnemosyne smiled faintly, closing her eyes as the shackles upon her neck, hands and feet reforged themselves. “Good night.”

The Titan’s body grew limp. There was a soft hiss of metal, a slight movement of steel before everything lay still.

Mistress of Lethe, Goddess of the Oblivion;

Rena, my beloved;

A thousand lifetimes may pass,

And though the threads of destiny continue to falter and break,

You have my heart.

For eternity.

FIN.

#matsui rena #matsui jurina #wmatsui #akb48 #ske48 #jurirena #fanfiction #fiction #moodboard #smut #christ my hand slipped #forgive me

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spookyreesescup-blog · 7 years

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Theory Time, My Good Chaps

Please Read ALL THE WAY THROUGH!!! So, as we all know... WANTED WAS AMAZING. We also know that Zircon, the new gem that defended Steven, acCUSED THE DIAMONDS OF SHATTERING ONE OF THEIR OWN. But actually, it's not as far fetched as it seems. This is a Theory regarding how I THINK Yellow Diamond either A) shattered Pink B) is covering something up about the shattering of Pink In "Message Received" , Yellow seems VERY adamant about wanting the Earth DEAD. Gone, Kaput. Note how she doesn't want to turn it into a Kindergarten. She wants to, quote, "...erase that hideous hunk of rock of of our star maps!" She doesn't want the Earth as a colony, she wants it gone. And blah blah blah Peridot protests and all that. Fast forward to Steven Bomb Five, particularly "That Will Be All". When she walks in to see Blue WEEPING IN AGONY, she does not comfort her or console her as a sister would. She seems annoyed, and Blue is shocked when she comes in. Almost as if she knows Yellow doesn't like being around Pink themed things. (That part is speculation. She could've just been surprised by her sudden appearance) Anyway, if what I've stated so far is true, that would make this episode A LOT more interesting. It would imply that Yellow is FAKING SYMPATHY, granted, very poorly. Maybe she wanted all those Rose Quartz's shattered because she didn't want anyone to testify against her. (This will make more sense later) Before we move on to "The Trial", here's what I think. I think Pink wanted to use Earth, as Peridot says, for its resources. It was used as a Kindergarten, we know that. But perhaps that was all she wanted to do. If Pink really WAS sympathetic towards the humans, perhaps she revolted against Yellow, who wanted the Earth gone completely. Perhaps they fought and maybe stormed off, like sisters would. More on that after I discuss "The Trial". OH BOY THIS WAS A DOOZY. First things first, I would like it to come to attention how quickly Yellow wanted Steven shattered. The greenish Zircon states "oh yeah, this things gotta rose quartz gem and she shattered Pink Diamond" and Yellow does not object. She thinks that's all the proof they need. But Blue wants to hear more. She isn't as up-and-at-em to shatter Steven as Yellow is. (Like I said above, perhaps she wanted no one to testify against her.) And OH GOLLY, when Zircon says that the Diamonds could have shattered Pink, Blue looks terrified and appalled. Yellow... just sits there for a moment... angry. Before poofing Zircon as she protests and denies her words. Even when her Zircon says something, she poofs her too. She is in such a fit of rage that someone had, perhaps, figured her out. Even more on Blue Zircons case. She states that she was only a few steps out of her palanquin before being shattered. By a rose quartz. But Zircon says, "How?" Which is a very valid question. Supposedly, keep in mind, this is headcanon. After having a fight over the Earth, Yellow contacts Pink on having a peace meeting. Private. Alone. No Agates. No Sapphires. No Pearls. It would seem innocent, just 2 sisters trying to talk out an argument. How the shattering takes place, I couldn't begin to guess but before I sign off I would like to point out two things about Blue... and something about Bismuth. First, Blue. If my headcanon is true, and it was only Pink and Yellow having a talk, Blue would not have been there. Which would be how she does not know how "a being as powerful as a Diamond perish." Yet, she seems to know it was done with a sword, which is what I get into next. Most of the accounts of the shattering are handed down, stories if you will. Keep in mind that Yellow is one of the most, if not the most powerful gem we have seen so far. If no one was with them, she could fabricate a elaborate, sympathetic story of how one of Pink diamonds own soldiers had shattered her in front of her entourage. And have no one oppose her in fear of being shattered. But there is a few key details that make this story... clearly fake. One: In the episode "Bismuth", Bismuth says, and I quote, about Roses sword WHICH SHE MADE HERSELF. "It could destroy a gems physical form in an instant. Destroying the body, but never the gem." The keys words there, "never the gem." If Yellow's account of Pinks shattering are true, then Pink would not have been shattered, making Yellow a liar. Two: Zircon says the records say Pink diamond was shattered in front of her whole entourage. Even if my headcanon is incorrect, and she did have her entourage behind her, THAT WOULD EXPLAIN WHY THERE ARE NO PINK GEMS SEEN A N Y W H E R E. Yellow shattered them to prevent the news from getting out that she herself had shattered Pink. There would be, once again, no one to say anything otherwise. To sum up. Imagine a heartbroken Pink Diamond, devastated that her colony was going to be destroyed, going to visit her planet one last time. Her Sapphire, her Agate, her Pearl behind her, her palanquin lands on Earth so she can say goodbye. The moment she steps out, she is shattered by Yellow, who had opposed her idea to destroy Earth. The Pink gems rush to try to get to the palanquin, but Yellow is faster, poofing and shattering each one, except a certain Rose Quartz. She destoys the palanquin, so that the Rose quartz cannot defend herself as Yellow Diamond rushes back to Homeworld to describe how a soldier suddenly turned on her own Diamond and ran off. Rose would have nothing to say. Her opinion is inferior compared to a Diamond. Blue, devastated, vows to have her shattered, but can never get rid of the only thing she has left of her beloved sister. And I imagine Yellow thought she was victorious. Her lies had been accepted, and she reigned with power. No one was left to expose her. Until now.

#steven universe #su theory #su the trial #steven universe theory #headcanon #theory #yellow is guilty

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bloodinhershoesrpg · 7 years

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WHEN THE CURTAIN DROPS…

You have come a long way from gallantry and adoration, leaving no more taste on your tongue but the one of absolute, caustic defeat. It’s jealousy, what grows unbridled within you, embellishing you as ivy does to walls of stone, coiling around your limbs on the brink of strangulation. Perhaps you wonder, in the bitterness of night with a chapped chalice in hand, how could you allow yourself to take such a boisterous fall; was it your arrogance, was it your greed? Was it that unyielding, obsessive love you happen to feel for yourself? It feels like the art you were once devoted to has decided to betray you, using time as its weapon and your flaws as its target. You wait for the wind surrounding you, but its emptiness is not one to reply. No, the wind keeps all its secrets, very much like yourself, it lets them age finely as the Romanée-Conti in your cup, to be engulfed once their sweetness had turned to poison. Jealousy is an incomprehensible thing, it tends to turn words bitter and countenances gruesome, yet it shines upon you like lens flares, blurring out every blemish to replace it with an enraged sense of beauty — cruel, imposing, as frightening as it is alluring.

…YOU SHOW YOUR TRUE COLOURS

The face of you, however lovely, is nothing but frayed masks glued onto one another. That much we know, you and me, as the darkest and deepest of the secrets, the one you will not be able to hide forever. You have given your life for the ballet house, the one that now looks down on you, not with a gracious smile but a grimace drenched in contempt. Time has ticked by inexorably, etched on your skin as a clear reminder of how fickle your ruling was ought to be, leaving no room for hesitations and prompting them to seek after the newest, loveliest version of you. How ardently you hate them! With their doe eyes, ignorant to the cruelty of the world, oblivious to the harm they have caused you. And so they twirl in circles, like a flock of birds, only to break asunder at the sight of you as though you carried along the stench of death. To surpass them is a duty and to trouble them the greatest of the pleasures, to reduce them all — with their infantile smiles, their fake compliments, and their stories of how much they admired you — to the spec of a dancer you have become has got to be the only way to prove that, if the clock refuses to stop for you, you're bound to shatter it.

VICTIM OR CULPRIT?

The name of Daphne Visvardi once implied grandiosity and brazen charm, yet your impetuous and malevolent nature has landed you a single step away from the street with the less-than-worthy role of Carabosse (the Evil Fairy), bringing your ruling to an end at age thirty-two. The gelidity of your gaze, mirroring Gemma Arterton Merve Boluğur in shape and colour, rushes the dancing corps that once applauded you to grow silent with nightmarish ease.

IN RELATION TO

RODRIGO ARAGÓN: You were aware he was a man prone to make a muse of whoever he saw fit, to find a source of inspiration through the most carnal of means; even still he never showed the tiniest hint of interest towards you. You were immune to his charm, he was immune to your cruelty, as though an impermeable layer coated you both — hard as stone, cold as ice. Haughty and cowardish, Rodrigo found in your issues an excuse to have you dismissed from a production that was yours by right, using them and artistic differences to label you as damaged goods. Yet it was his impending fear, and a secret you were not supposed to know, what has driven him into making that infamous decision. KATERINA SANTOS: There is a vivid image painted in the back of your mind, impassible and untouched, like a forgotten picture frame. Her blue eyes, lively and overjoyed, bedazzling the room with a luminosity of their own. Katerina was not just a fellow dancer, she was not just another mildly promising youngling under your tutelage, she was the little sister you never had. For years you advised her, you watched her grow, blossoming under the lights of the Queen Victoria Ballet’s rehearsal rooms with a confidence unheard of. Plenty of things had tarnished you, plenty of evils had caused you pain, but none could quite pair up to the one of seeing her, of all people, replacing you as the Queen’s prime jewel.

WHAT YOU SHOULD KNOW

Chances of Survival: Above average Applicant must be open to portraying verbal abuse, alcoholism Faceclaim is slightly negotiable

Starring: Tabby as Daphne Visvardi

#1 - stream of consciousness/para

Daphne’s numbness is blithe, her lips meeting as silk around the ice cold glass of vodka. She is tremulous without it. Yet elsewhere, amidst a cloud of soulless uncertainty, wintry swans cast snow from fledgling feathers upon a stage that was hers by right. Adeline guided Lindsey with hands fluttering with inspiration, pushing her to leap just a little higher, and the sight settled as heavy, sodden dust in Daphne’s heart. Princess Aurora had been stolen from her twice now, first by her own protege, and now by some dark little nobody.

At least when Katerina had taken the part, Daphne could comfort herself that, perhaps, she had only possessed those skills because of Daphne’s own tutelage.

It was a part that had always eluded her, Aurora. She had danced a gossamer Swan Princess, brought life to Giselle’s soft limbs, she had lived and died as Juliet. Downtrodden in a hushed and sussurrous haze, she scowled once more at the stage. In days gone by, she had been everything. The heralding stars were a map of her movements, and each symphony cupped her sculpted body as though it had been written for her. It was how the world was meant to be.

She had always supposed it came of being a twin. Lucille, just a few minutes older than Daphne, had always been in competition. Always pushed themselves to beat their mirror image. It could have torn them apart, had they not competed at such different things; Daphne was the prettiest, she was the best dancer, she was the most famous. But Lucille was the most studious, the most clever, she was lauded by some as a genius in her field of physics. It was how their mother had liked it, pushing each girl to her limits.

Daphne hadn’t told her mother yet, that she was to be Carabosse. She was already dizzied by her premonition, of that disapproving sniff. “Well,” she would say, eyes lingering on Daphne’s calves as though they might be the culprits of her failure, “At least it’s a named part. Oh, darling, did you hear, Lucille had her study on the movement of space-time published by the AAAS?”

She’d told Lucille, anyway, and had received warm indulgences and sympathy. They were so different, and it allowed them to be best friends. Lucille was her only friend, really. She’d thought, once, that Katerina had been a good friend, but she had usurped her, and friends didn’t do that. Katerina had been just like the rest of them, pretty and young and ready to submit her skin to their punishing art form. Daphne had hated the smugness she felt when, at rehearsals, Katerina had once in a while stumbled. Not least of all because whenever anyone else required assistance, it diverted the attention away from Daphne’s desultory grace.

So preoccupied was she with thoughts of harpy-mothers and dead proteges, she quite missed the first attempt on her attention. Adeline was attempting to summon her for a little one-on-one session, and Daphne rose with all the regality she could muster. Walking forth in somber echo, she fancied she felt the sympathetic eyes of the young dancers around her, and it made her seethe. To them, she had once been a perfect cadence. Now, too many of them pitied her. Opalescent light means little without a prism with which to prehend, and in their pitying gaze she withered. Did they know about the drinking? Did everyone? Or did they only see the breath of a crow’s foot blossoming beside her eyes, a grim memento mori that no quantity of expensive lotions could erase?

Ascending to the stage, she brushed past Lindsey. She wasn’t sure if Lindsey even noticed, really, but Daphne was electrically aware of the youthful plumpness of her skin, glowing pink with exertion. Lindsey was insulting in her youth, insolent in her grace. Only years of practiced malice kept Daphne’s expression smooth and expectant, and the spotlights onstage were a salve. There was very little that couldn’t be fixed with a little attention.

“Well,” she trilled with a voice that was both melodic and yet utterly lacking in heart, “Let’s not stand around waiting for the grass to grow!”

#2 - a life in bullet points

Daphne and her twin were both enrolled in pre-ballet classes by their mother, who insisted they try their hand at everything in order to find their strengths. Lucille hated it, but Daphne had a natural talent and soon became absorbed in the world of ballet. She attended a ballet academy from the age of 11; she’d wanted to train in Russia but it was financially impossible, so she went to London instead.

She became the best not through natural talent, but through grueling work. Her academic work suffered because of it, but she danced tirelessly and strove always towards perfection.

For most of her life, Daphne has considered herself to be perfectly in control. She never succumbed to an eating disorder, as so many ballerinas did, because she knew how many calories she burned through dance and ate enough to maintain a slim, muscular physique without suffering. She considers herself to be in control of her drinking, too, because she thinks that she could stop, if she wanted to– - it’s just that she doesn’t care to.

Having been such a workhorse her whole life, Daphne never made many friends. At first it was a matter of having no time to socialise, and then her peers began to notice that when she was present, there was a certain insincerity about her that tended to rub them up the wrong way. Her smile was wide enough, but her words were hollow. People, to her, were either talented, and therefore a threat, or untalented, and therefore not worth wasting her breath on.

Being relegated to playing Carabosse was, naturally, a blow to her. Daphne has made it her life’s mission to become a ballerina, and she worked damn hard for it, and now at only 33 she’s being passed over for younger dancers. She’s always been a jealous person, but this blow is pushing her right to the edge.

#literate rp #skeleton rp #lsrpg #murder rp #daphnevisvardi #taken.#female.#alive.#takenf.

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backtothestart02 · 6 years

Text

My Fic Recap: December 2018

Amount of updates/new fics posted: 16 Amount of individual fics posted: 14 Show/Book/Movie(s) written from: The Flash Ship(s) written: Barry & Iris Challenge(s) participated in: 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction hosted by me Series added to: 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction and Roll Credits

*This month’s full recap will be under a ‘read more’ because there were so many fics posted throughout the duration of the month.

1) Netflix and Chill

Type: One-shot Synopsis: Barry and Iris' first Netflix and Chill. Show: The Flash Ship: Barry & Iris Rating: Mature Word Count: 2,390 Series added to: 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction Challenge(s) participated in: 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction Posted on: 12/1/2018 Status: Complete

Read HERE.

2) Slow as Time, Fast as Lightning

Type: One-shot Synopsis: In the wake of Nora's return to the future, Iris decides she wants to start a family. Right now. Show: The Flash Ship: Barry & Iris Rating: Mature Word Count: 2,378 Series added to: 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction Challenge(s) participated in: 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction Posted on: 12/2/2018 Status: Complete

Read HERE.

3) Peace Through the Thunder

Type: One-shot Synopsis: Post 5x05 - Barry and Iris make use of their alone time before Nora returns to the loft. Show: The Flash Ship: Barry & Iris Rating: Mature Word Count: 1,596 Series added to: (1) 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction; (2) Roll Credits Challenge(s) participated in: 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction Posted on: 12/3/2018 Status: Complete

Read HERE.

4) Birthday Surprise

Type: One-shot Synopsis: When a very busy Iris becomes consumed by her work, Barry and their twins take it upon themselves to surprise her for her birthday. Show: The Flash Ship: Barry & Iris Rating: Mature Word Count: 2,568 Series added to: 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction Challenge(s) participated in: 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction Posted on: 12/16/2018 Status: Complete

Read HERE.

5) Fateful Kiss

Type: Multi-chap Synopsis: 2x18 - Canon Divergent - Iris takes a risk and shows Barry her true feelings when he’s at his most vulnerable. Things escalate from there. Show: The Flash Ship: Barry & Iris Rating: Teen Word Count: 3,108 Series added to: 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction Challenge(s) participated in: 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction Posted on: 12/17/2018, 12/22/2018 Status: In-Progress

Read HERE (chapter 1) and HERE (chapter 2).

6) Muse

Type: Multi-chap Synopsis: Varying lengths of single-chapter stories &/or snippets inspired by spoilers detailed for future episodes. Show: The Flash Ship: Barry & Iris Rating: Mature Word Count: 1,407 Series added to: 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction Challenge(s) participated in: 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction Posted on: 12/22/2018 Status: In-Progress

Read HERE (chapter 17).

7) Soft Rush

Type: One-shot Synopsis: 4x10 - Barry and Iris share an intimate moment in her old bedroom before meeting with the team at STAR Labs. Show: The Flash Ship: Barry & Iris Rating: Mature Word Count: 1,468 Series added to: (1) 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction; (2) Roll Credits Challenge(s) participated in: 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction Posted on: 12/22/2018 Status: Complete

Read HERE.

8) Magnetic Touch

Type: One-shot Synopsis: 5x09 - Alternate Ending - A few extra moments before Cisco interrupts Barry and Iris results in a kiss. Show: The Flash Ship: Barry & Iris Rating: Teen Word Count: 973 Series added to: 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction Challenge(s) participated in: 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction Posted on: 12/23/2018 Status: Complete

Read HERE.

9) Fallen For You

Type: One-shot Synopsis: 3x01 - Canon Divergent - Almost a year after Barry decided not to erase Flashpoint, he takes Iris out for her birthday. Show: The Flash Ship: Barry & Iris Rating: General Audiences Word Count: 2,146 Series added to: 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction Challenge(s) participated in: 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction Posted on: 12/23/2018 Status: Complete

Read HERE.

10) For Her

Type: One-shot Synopsis: 2x20 - Canon Divergent - Barry and Iris share a follow-up moment regarding her confession before Barry decides what to do about Zoom. Show: The Flash Ship: Barry & Iris Rating: General Audiences Word Count: 1,921 Series added to: 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction Challenge(s) participated in: 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction Posted on: 12/24/2018 Status: Complete

Read HERE.

11) Mixed Drink

Type: Multi-chap Synopsis: AU - Two strangers meet in a bar. One spells danger, the other, desperation. Show: The Flash Ship: Barry & Iris Rating: Mature Word Count: 4,101 Series added to: 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction Challenge(s) participated in: 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction Posted on: 12/24/2018 Status: In-Progress

Read HERE (chapter 1) and HERE (chapter 2).

12) Just Miss Him

Type: One-shot Synopsis: Iris wants to cuddle while Barry is at work. Show: The Flash Ship: Barry & Iris Rating: General Audiences Word Count: 1,843 Series added to: 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction Challenge(s) participated in: 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction Posted on: 12/25/2018 Status: Complete

Read HERE.

13) The Smallest Thing

Type: One-shot Synopsis: AU - Nothing like a cute coffee barista to improve your day. Show: The Flash Ship: Barry & Iris Rating: General Audiences Word Count: 1,288 Series added to: 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction Challenge(s) participated in: 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction Posted on: 12/25/2018 Status: Complete

Read HERE.

14) Better Than Christmas

Type: One-shot Synopsis: Pre-Series - Canon Divergent - The Christmas before everything changed, Barry confesses to Iris he's in love with her. Show: The Flash Ship: Barry & Iris Rating: General Audiences Word Count: 3,933 Series added to: 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction Challenge(s) participated in: 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction Posted on: 12/25/2018 Status: Complete

Read HERE.

Side note: Yes, I did successfully write all 25 fics for my 25 Days of Westallen Fanfiction. However, I was unable to post them all before the end of the month, so the remaining fics will likely be in my January 2019 recap post.

#my fic recap: december 2018 #25 days of westallen fanfiction #backtothestart02 fanfiction #westallen #fanfiction #westallen fanfiction #barry x iris

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jeonxgkook · 8 years

Text

Not My Problem | 03

cr.

↠ pt. 1 | pt. 2 | pt. 3 | pt. 4 | pt. 5 | pt. 6 |

Words: 8.118

Genre: Modern kingdom au + angst

Summary: If you were to ask your parents, they’d burst out sobbing. Just looking at their picture was enough for you. You may have seemed rough on the outside, but inside, you were just as broken as everyone else. And there was nothing wrong with that.

A/N: there’s a lot of storytelling in this chap, so I’m sorry for that. to make it up, there’s a special surprise in this part ;)

Jungkook woke up to the sound of your breathing, your demented hair tickling his tiny nose. He’d never done this before — waking up with someone and seeing their morning face for the first time — so he couldn’t say for sure if he was supposed to wake you or not; his mind drifted into thinking about last night but erased the very thought, afraid of the amount of guilt that would pop up. He glanced at the clock. It was past seven; he needed to get up or else his mother would be screaming up and down like a madwoman fresh out of an asylum.

Instead of shaking you awake and hoping for a death wish, he pinched the tip of your nose jokingly. Your sleepy face scrunched up in a grimace, shoving him away and turning your body away from him.

“Leave me alone,” you snapped, laying your tired head back down on the soft, fluffy pillow.

Jungkook chuckled, a sheepish grin spreading over his lips. “Guess, you’re not a morning person.”

You groaned again, kicking him away this time, which further proved his point and portrayed your tetchy mood. He stood from the bed and was about to head to the bathroom when there was a knock at the door.

Jungkook opened it to find Jimin waiting there patiently, his arms filled with clothing and the usual smile on his bright face.

“Good morning. I brought you these for extra,” he greeted.

Jungkook thanked him, setting the clothes on the edge of the bed. Jimin noticed you on the bed, eyeing the mess around the room, then gaped at Jungkook and his mess.

He gasped loudly, “Oh, my god, you two had sex!”

What the hell? Jungkook’s eyes widened, slapping a head over Jimin’s tiny mouth (which has proven to not be so tiny).

“Sh, you’ll wake Y/N,” Jungkook whispered, ushering Jimin outside the room and into the isolated hallway, then he shut the door behind him, praying to whoever was listening that Jimin wouldn’t blow up.

Jungkook paused before peeking. He explained, “Okay —”

“YOU TWO HAD SEX!” Jimin shouted. His eyes were about to pop out of his head in shock and he thought he knew damn well what happened.

He flailed his arms around, trying to grasp onto the situation. “Well, did you?”

Jungkook shrugged nonchalantly, his back against the door. His mind was trying to search for the appropriate words for this kind of situation.

“No, we didn’t… we just kissed, that’s all,” Jungkook explained.

Jimin gasped, “That’s still bad!”

“Sh! ”

Jimin gasped again, this time louder that the whole castle could hear it. “Oh, my god,” he mumbled to himself, walking back and forth, and rubbing his temples in hopes of the train of thought losing track. “But how — why?”

“Well… first, it was with the fountain,” Jungkook began carefully, scared of what Jimin would blurt out again, “Then, she came to my room after the party and one thing led to another… and we kissed. Then she spent the night.”

He could practically feel his dignity plummeting into the lowest circle of hell.

“On your bed. Next to you, sleeping. This isn’t good.” Jimin’s voice worried him. “You can’t be together. You’re supposed to get married to Tania!”

“Don’t you think I know that?” Jungkook glared nervously, trying to capture the image and compose himself. He went silent, contemplating.

Jimin asked, “Do you regret it?”

It was a good question. The truth was, Jungkook had no idea whether he regretted kissing you or not. On one hand, he cheated on his wife-to-be. On the other, he got to be with you and finally realize just how much you mean to him, how much he loves being next to you and feeling your skin next to his.

All of this drama was just a bundle of disaster.

Jungkook simply didn’t answer the question at all, terrified he’d end up saying the wrong thing, and his state of mind was bad enough.

Jimin asked silently, “Are you two gonna be, like, a thing now?”

The door opened before Jungkook could answer, making him fall back onto the floor. He grunted, rubbing his sore head from bumping on the doorknob. He looked up to see you gazing down at him, a concerned spread across your face.

“Are you okay?” You asked, gazing down at his vegetable-like position. “You look a little dead.”

You have no idea. He nodded and sat up, rubbing his agonizing shoulders. You bent down and slowly massaged his shoulder, hoping to rid some of the pain away.

You said, “I gotta go — have to explain to my parents where I’ve been.”

Jungkook raised a brow. “Are you gonna tell them you spent the night here?”

“Oh, no!” You giggled, your eyes brightening up like the stars he saw last night in the fountain. “I’ll tell them I had to work overtime and slept on the job. My work today is across town, so try to stay alive without me.”

You headed out after saying goodbye to Jimin, to which the older boy looked down at Jungkook, crossing his arm and raising an eyebrow, mimicking the ‘parent’ talk. “Are you?”

“I don’t know.” Jungkook looked down at his hands laying on his lap, angst filling his chest. Suddenly, he couldn’t breathe, couldn’t grasp the final stages of oxygen and finally relieve his lungs.

“I’ll figure it out. I gotta get ready, anyway. We have to go into town later on.” He slammed the door in Jimin’s face, the sudden worry swallowing him whole. He felt like crying, just bawling his eyes out until his tear ducts didn’t work anymore. He glided down the door, staring into oblivion.

What had he done? He kissed another woman. Granted, it was nice, but still.

He was engaged. He couldn’t go off and kiss someone he wasn’t married to.

He screwed up. Big time.

The entire trek home, you fumbled around with your apron, practically ripping the hems off in anxiety. You were so nervous, so terrified that your parents would be up and waiting for you. Your heart dropped to your stomach when your house came into view.

You piled inside, quietly closing the door behind you. You tiptoed to the living room, your steps lighter than air.

The lights flipped on and you stopped dead in your tracks. You were caught.

“Y/N, you’re in big trouble.” Your father stood near the window with your mother, tapping his foot in disappointment and glaring at you immensely. “You better have a good explanation for this kind of stunt.”

You told them the lie about working overtime, trying to keep your voice steady and your heart beating slower. You didn’t want to give yourself away by sweating too much, enough of that was already presented. You didn’t see a reason to sweat a storm.

“I would have called but my phone died,” you seethe through your tight lips, attempting to contain the actual reason. You were never good at lying to their faces.

“Why do I have a feeling you’re lying?”

Shit. Your mother had the knack for spotting little details and exploiting them, like a vampire ready to suck you dry.

“Were you out again?” she asked, pointing to the front door as if that was going to help clear the image.

You knew exactly what ‘out’ meant — hitting up the streets and stealing again, from either old women and men, or some rich sucker. You couldn’t blame your parents for worrying, knowing you probably would have been in the slammer or, worse, dead, and they wouldn’t have any way to know; but you also couldn’t help feeling ashamed and embarrassed, that they thought of you as nothing more than a street-rat, a thief.

“No, I wasn’t,” you said, peering down at the ground, shamefaced.

You didn’t have the courage or strength to tell the lie again; no, not to them, so it seemed to be the better option to not speak. You wished your parents would stop assuming you were out stealing whenever you were nowhere near the house. But you knew they had reasons for believing that.

After they gave the “no stealing” speech again, you trudged to your room in despair. Wanting to see something and distract your inner disgust, you opened the windows to the peach sky of sunrise. You grumbled on the windowsill, burying your face in your dainty arms.

Why couldn’t things go back to the way they used to be? Before your siblings had died? All of life seemed simpler back then.

Ever since the family incident a few years back, you had been completely distant from your parents, barely told them anything, you dare say you didn’t even trust them with certain things.

For the rest of the miserable day, you stayed intact in your own little prison, finishing any schoolwork, shipping it off to the principal, and lying in your bed, sulking about the disappointments of being not only a thief but also a terrible daughter. You didn’t want to steal, you really, really didn’t want to; but it was the only way to put your family through.

You grabbed a picture frame from the nightstand, hoisting it on your lap.

It was one of your siblings when they were 15 and older, and you were just a child, barely able to walk. You wished you remembered them, your siblings. They had worked at a minefield, and one day the caverns caved in. Unfortunately, they weren’t able to make it out before it fell apart and crushed it. No one knew why it caved, but you really didn’t want to know.

If you were to ask your parents, they’d burst out sobbing. Just looking at their picture was enough for you. You may have seemed rough on the outside, but inside, you were just as broken as everyone else. And there was nothing wrong with that. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself.

You placed the picture back on the table, sniffing away the salty tears racing down your face. You pulled yourself back into bed, snuggling against your stiff pillow, sincerely wishing you were in Jungkook’s bed. At least the pillows in his room were softer and cozier.

You fell asleep to the dancing moonlight gleam reflecting off the window and on the carpet, wishing so hard that you could disappear to where the moon went during the day.

Something hit the window.

Your eyes shot open and peeked up, a small rock hitting the glass of the window again. You looked out to see your ‘friends’ down on the ground, waving up at you.

“Y/N, come down!” they urged.

What the hell were they doing up at this time of night? Granted, you all would always steal at night, but this was ridiculous. It was nearly past two in the morning. Morning. As Jungkook clearly made known, you weren’t a morning person. Never was, never will be.

“Not now, guys,” you murmured, setting your head back between your arms, vexing to shut your eyes. “I’m not in the mood.”

But they were the most impatient, inconsiderate human beings alive and didn’t allow you your precious slumber.

One of them — you couldn’t tell which one — whispered loudly, “Y/N, get down here right now. We’re robbing the royal car, and it’s fucking huge! Biggest deal since the incident of ‘O9.”

This caught your attention. You snapped your head up and peered back down at them. “What royal car?”

One of the girls from another gang from downtown, Irene, giggled, her menacing grin glistening under the moon. “Of course after hearing royal car you get all curious — the one from the palace, dumbass! If we’re lucky, the princess could be in there. Or the king!”

You reeled under the windowsill, scrutinizing whether or not you should go. You couldn’t let them rob the car, not if Tania was in there. Or worse — Jungkook was there. No way you’d let your so-called friends harm them. You snatched your coat and climbed down the building.

“Atta boy!” Your friends smacked your back, hooting like a bunch of crazed owls in the night.

You needed to make sure they didn’t do anything stupid, or at least try and convince them. “Guys, I don’t think this is a good idea,” you explain, hugging your jacket to your form. “What if someone gets hurt?”

“Oh, now you’re growing a conscience?” Irene chuckled and elbowed your arm, shoving your rib-cage.

“C’mon, have some fun,” she scolded. “After all, it’s the fucking royal car. Damn them to hell, right?”

You paused, your voice nonfunctional and lost in route. “But I’ve met some of them, and they’re really nice. You don’t have to steal from them.”

Irene stopped dead, along with the others. Out of everyone, you were always the more ruthless when it came to stealing from the rich, or anyone for that matter, so you denying the opportunity to steal from royals caused your friends to question you.

“‘Don’t have to steal from them?’” Irene repeated exactly what you said, spitting at every word. “What the hell happened to you?”

“I just —”

“Quit it, you two,” the leader of the group demanded. You didn’t even know his name. “The car is coming.” They all started climbing the trees, getting a higher ground advantage to view their target, leaving you on the ground behind a couple of shrubs.

The leader commanded, “Remember, jump as soon as they reach the end of the path.”

A black car, almost a limousine, rode smoothly down the road, right in between the trees. The thieves were ready to jump the hood.

You needed to think — fast.

You couldn’t let them rob a car that could potentially have your friends in. You threw a rock near the bumper, causing a ruckus. The car came to a halt. Before anyone realized it was a rock and nothing too serious, you lied down on the ground, right in front of the stationary car, making it seem as if you had fallen in front of the car.

“Y/N!” It was Tania. She and a guard ran out of the car, rushing towards you. You could tell your friends in the trees were pissed off at your dick-head move, but as long as Tania was okay, you were fine with living down the glares.

“My goodness, are you okay? Any bruising?” Tania asked and bent down to grab your head, making sure your skull wasn’t fractured or cracked.

Though you were surprised she was being genuinely nice to you, you shook your head, laughing nervously. “I’m such a klutz. I must have gone sleepwalking again.”

“What the hell are you doing out here at this time?” She took off her jacket and landed it on your shoulders. “You must be freezing. Are you headed home?”

You nodded. You wanted to get out there as fast as humanly possible. The guard ushered you inside the car after making sure you were able to walk properly. You sat next to Tania, peeking out the window to see your friends — you shouldn’t even call them that anymore, maybe dumbasses? Acquaintances? Whoever they were called, they were gone, nowhere in sight.

The car backed away after you gave directions to your house, making sure to give the long way around, so you’d had to avoid seeing the dumbasses again. You noticed Tania kept her distance, scooting away from you whenever you accidentally got too close. You were really starting to get annoyed by that but, most of all, curious.

Why did she hate you so much? No, scratch that. Why did she hate the lower-class so much? You decided not to press it, keeping your mouth shut.

When they pulled up on your street, you quickly asked, “Tania, can you come inside with me?”

“I beg your pardon?” She wasn’t paying attention, too focused on the window.

“Can you stay with me? To make sure I don’t go sleepwalking again?”

She hesitated, eyeing your house. It was a little run-down, but not bad, for royal taste anyway. Nonetheless, she still cringed. She might have tried hiding it but, obviously, couldn’t repress her repulsed anguish.

Despite her disgust, she replied, “Sure. Why not?” She told the driver to wait out until she returned as you both head out the car, walked to the front door, and stepped inside the house.

You held out her jacket back, offering it back to her now that you were in a room temperature again and not the freezing cold.

“No, you can keep it,” Tania said, waving her hand dismissively. She probably thought, now that it touched your skin, that it was tainted with some contagious infestation, like lice.

You shrugged and hung it up in the closet. She sat on the seat (after not-so-secretly checking to make sure it wasn’t covered in dust), overviewing everything in sight, and you knew she was silently judging your living conditions.

“Do you want anything to eat?”

“Umm…” She inhaled deeply, mentally weighing her options, like she was thinking Die of battle or die of disease in peasant’s home? “What do you have?”

You smirked, thanking god that the lights were dim so she couldn’t see the devious knots tying in your mind. “Oh, ya know, the usual peasant stuff,” you chimed perilously, “frog legs, old tomatoes, egg salad —”

She immediately jumped from her seat. “I think I better go.”

You laughed, sitting her back down and patting her shoulder. “I’m just kidding,” you reassured her. “We don’t have those things — well, at least not the frog legs. But we have fruit salad.”

She nodded, relaxing back into the seat. “Okay. I’d like that.”

As you put the salad together, you looked over your shoulder to see her body getting anxious, her fingers fidgeting with her dress, her knee bopping up and down. You gave her the dish, also handing her a drink of cold orange juice. You sat across from her as she ate silently.

You blurted out, “Why do hate me?”

She stopped her hand, her fork halfway to her mouth. “What?”

“Why do you hate me? Why do you hate people like me?” You really wanted to add that you’d never done anything to her, but after the incident last night, you had no place to lie about that.

Tania put her drink down, sighing deeply through her nose; she was embarrassed by something.

“I don’t hate you,” she said, emphasizing the last part very clearly.

You got comfy on the couch next to her, your full attention was given.

She paused before continuing, “A couple of years ago, I fell in love with a boy, a prince from a different kingdom. Oh, he was beautiful — so kind, generous… loving.”

Tania glanced at her cup as if remembering a terrible memory.

You could tell the story was going downhill. You saw the look in her eyes, her flashing green eyes turning into dark pine.

“Anyway, um,” she cleared her scratchy throat, “one day he came over for a meal with my parents. Everything went amazing. My parents loved him so much. And that night, we announced that were to be married somewhere in the spring, and of course, my parents were as happy as I.”

That wasn’t the downhill you were expecting, but you didn’t mind. You were kind of hoping for a reason soon, though.

“What happened?” you asked.

“Well, you know how there aren’t many people, well… like you, in the palace staff? It wasn’t always like that. The reason being: when we announced our engagement, we were attacked and robbed.”

Your eyes widened. That’s some turn. “By who?”

“The entire staff. Apparently, they were all part of some sort of thieving-gang.” She scoffed in disbelief. “That’s when I realized that nothing can change how people think — doesn’t matter who you are or how you grow up. It’s what you do that really gets me mad. And I know you used to steal! There’s no difference.”

“No, that’s not true. I had different reasons.” You gulped. This conversation wasn’t going in the direction you would have hoped. “So, what happened to the prince?”

“I have to go. Sorry.” She rushed to the door, slammed it open, and ran down the street, entering the car faster than the naked human eye could see. By the time you reached the sidewalk, the car was racing down the opposite road, far from your reach.

“Dammit,” you groaned, kicking aside rock.

All you got from that was something bad happened on that engagement night. And it was the major part of her hatred. You felt it; you knew damn well she was missing the big picture and decided to avoid telling you.

You walked back up to your room, rested on the bed, and tried to obtain sleep, but that story never left your mind.

Clearly, that prince wasn’t around at the moment. So something must have happened!

You tossed and turned at the thought, trying to consume what could have been so bad that made Tania hate you?

The floor creaked.

You raised your head over the bed, glancing around the room. The window was wide open. You could have sworn you locked it before you left. You walked over and shut the window, glancing at the reflection.

There was a dark figure behind you.

A hand clapped over your mouth, something sharp at your back. “Shh…” The voice was chilling, and not the good kind.

It was too dark to see anything, to react to anything invisible to you, but you weren’t totally helpless. You elbowed whoever was behind you, pushing their body off you ferociously, making your way to the door, and then more people seemed to emerge from the shadows like mist. One popped in front of you, snatched your wrist and pushed you back on the ground, the others securing your flaring arms and feet.

“Shh, Y/N,” the voice cooed near your ear. “You don’t want to wake your parents, right? Wouldn’t want to have to kill them, too.”

It was Irene’s voice.

You growled under her hand, shoving her knife away with your knee, but inevitably giving up on fighting against her. Irene was freakishly strong and you knew better to waste your energy on her.

As the dumbasses pinned your body down, Irene let go of your mouth, which was instantly blocked with another hand from one of them. Of course, all the strong people went after. Why not the scrawny, weak ones who feared you? You were seriously pissed off, your heart pumping in your ear with rage.

Irene hovered over your head, staring down at you like a predator looking at helpless prey.

“You know you could have helped,” she whispered, softly moving pieces of your hair from your face. You jerked her touch away, not letting her have the satisfaction of seeing how you reacted emotionally.

“Damn, you’ve got some fire left.” She pulled her knife out from her belt, where it had been sitting peacefully up until this point.

“You must be exhausted from fighting.” With the knife’s edge, she pressed it against your cheek deep enough to sink into your skin, blood exuding from your cheekbone.

You winced in agony, and, even if you were pinned down, moved her hand away and looked away from her, making sure she didn’t see the weakness in your eyes.

“Get her out of here,” Irene demanded, pulling her knife back in her belt, the blood still racing down your face. You let them drag you out the house and into a vehicle, a dirty, smelly sack over your head, your hands tied behind your back.

They pulled you in the trunk of the car, shoving your body inside so you could fit. This told you that it must have been a small car, possibly an old model. You tried analyzing everything in your head, forcing yourself to remember every single detail.

But, even with the rag over your head, you were certain of one thing.

This night wasn’t going well and more than likely going to die at the hands of angry thieves.

With his toes pointed against the surface of the chair, Jungkook held the candle up higher, his feet burning to be freed from their torture.

“Can I stop now?” he asked desperately, keeping his gaze high up.

“Not until you perfect —”

Jungkook crashed on the ground, toppling over the chairs and carpet he was attempting to balance on. He grunted, pulling off the chairs and throwing the useless candle holder.

“I don’t understand why we have to do this,” he commented. “This is literally more exhausting than learning how to fucking dance!”

Jimin rolled his eyes and helped him get up, pulling Jungkook up on his feet. “Because balance is key to walking. And you know what walking you’ll have to do? Walking down the aisle. With Tania.”

“Yes, I know that last part, thank you,” Jungkook snapped. He couldn’t take this anymore. Jimin’s knackering had been going on since yesterday morning, since he discovered that you and Jungkook had kissed.

“So are you gonna tell Tania or not?”

Jungkook held Jimin back from tackling him, handling a chair, as if daring the older to try and attack him.

“No,” Jungkook said, his tone stern and controlled. “The kiss meant nothing. Just the heat of the moment stuff. It won’t ever happen again, with anyone. Y/N and I are going to get through this, and pretend this never happened.”

Jimin chuckled in disbelief. “You’re joking, right? That’s your plan?”

“Yes.”

“Wait, like yes, you’re joking, or yes, that’s your plan?”

“Yes, that’s my plan.”

Jimin flailed around, putting chairs back together and shouting, “You’re fucking screwed. That’s the dumbest plan ever!”

Jungkook shrugged his shoulders. “How is that a dumb plan?”

“Well, for one, it’s the palace; and Tania is the princess. She’s going to find out somehow. That’s how things work here.” He paused to examine Jungkook, a smirk playing across his playful features. “And you’re lying.”

The younger boy quirked his brows, surprised that Jimin caught him. “How am I lying?”

“No way in hell or heaven that the kiss meant nothing to you.”

Jungkook stopped, chair in mid-air. He put it down then sat. “Oh, god, you’re right.” He buried his face in his hands, groaning in agony. He really was screwed. “What am I supposed to do?”

“You have to tell Tania and Y/N about your feelings. They’ll understand. Then you three come up with a plan. Either way, the marriage has to happen.” Jimin gestured to him, trying to emphasize his point. “Otherwise the kingdoms’ empires will fall.”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.”

The door swung open, one of the head chefs from the kitchen — Jin? — came running down the ballroom, his breath heaving heavily. He was a very broad boy, a few years older than Jungkook, but he could tell Jin’s attitude was going to be anything but mature.

“Give me a minute,” he heaved, placing his hands on his knees. “Damn, why’s the ballroom so far away from the main kitchen?”

“What do you want, Jin?” Only Jimin would be allowed to boss around other staff members and not get in trouble for it. Because, in reality, Jimin was part of the staff also.

Jin’s smile faded at the sound of Jimin’s tone. “Well, hello to you, asshole. Good to see you’re still a maid.”

“I’m actually a butler, who’s now helping trainees. Get your facts straight.”

“Let me know when that happens,” he retorted. “Just came to ask if any of you have seen Y/N?”

Both Jimin and Jungkook shook their head.

With his heart growing heavy and sweat forming in his palms, Jungkook said, “Haven’t seen her since this morning.”

Jin groaned, snapping his fingers and ripping his chef’s hat off. “Damn. Y/N’s supposed to help me cater for the party tomorrow.”

“Is that what you guys always do here? Pary?”

Jin stopped him, holding his hand up. “Oh, trust me, this one is really important. I’m talking like if we don’t have Y/N to help us, we’re fucked.”

His tone was way too nice for Jungkook could take the cuss word seriously. “Look, I have to get back to the kitchen. Could you two please look for her?” Jin ran back out the room, leaving behind two very confused boys.

“Okay, she has to be around here somewhere,” Jungkook said. “You search everywhere in the palace, and I’ll pop by her house.”

He knocked on the front door, sweating for some reason. He couldn’t help feel nervous like he was meeting your parents under different circumstances. The door swung open, revealing what he believed to be your father.

“Hi, sir, I’m Jungkook from the palace. I’m terribly sorry to barge in, but I do need to talk to Y/N. It’s an emergency.” He tried getting out as many words as possible, hoping they could all get straight to the point.

Your mother popped up, wiping her hands with a towel. “Oh, sorry, dear, she’s supposed to be at the palace.”

Your father retaliated, “No, she’s upstairs. She hasn’t left the house.”

She laughed, patting her husband’s back. “You’re funny. Remember you came into the bedroom at, like, three in the morning and told me Y/N was working overtime?”

Your father’s face scrunched up in confusion. “Sweetie, I was next to you the whole time, and asleep, for that matter. I couldn’t have said.”

“Well someone must have been in the room and told me Y/N’s at work.”

Jungkook rushed past them, too terrified to say anything more and reveal just how anxious he was. He raced up the stairs, assuming that was where your room was located.

There was a door at the end of the hall and he inched closer, opening the door, your parents rushing up the stairs.

“Is this Y/N’s room?” he asked, examining the room.

He’d never seen your room before, but it was a pretty good guess to what he pictured it would be. But it was messy, almost like there was a struggle or fight of some sort. Now, you were a control freak. You wouldn’t let a room get this messy.

Something was definitely up.

Your mother gasped at a broken picture frame. She picked it up, shoving off the pieces of glass, and released the picture. She looked down at the photo, hot tears streaming across her face. Jungkook guessed that that photo must have been important and cherished.

“Is there anywhere she’d go?” he asked.

Your father pat his wife’s shoulder, comforting her. “No, even while she’s — No, she wouldn’t.”

Your mother looked up, her eyes red and her cheekbones puffy. “Are you sure she’s not at the palace?”

As if right on cue, there was a knock on the front door. Your parents jumped — they probably weren’t expecting anyone. “Maybe it’s Y/N.”

Jungkook held his hand out, his tone dead on serious. “Stay here. I’ll check it out.”

They were still, too terrified that it wasn’t you as they traveled down the stairs and scooted closer to the door. Jungkook grabbed the closest object and swiped the door wide open, revealing someone who most definitely wasn’t you.

Your parents shrieked and attacked the person, whacking candle holders on their head.

“No, please stop!” the mystery person screeched, holding their hands up to defend themselves.

Jungkook recognized that voice, trying very delicately to stop your parents. “Jimin?”

The older boy had his body scrunched up into a little ball. He stood up and pat the dirt off his shirt, your parents apologizing profusely. “No, it’s okay. I promise, no hard feelings.”

Jimin faced them dead on. “I couldn’t find Y/N anywhere near the palace. I checked every nook and cranny. Nada.”

Your mother cried, “Where the hell can she be!”

Jungkook heaved himself and Jimin outside, holding the door handle. “I’ll find Y/N. I promise. Just stay here and call the palace if anything happens.”

Jin barged into the ballroom again, where Jimin and Jungkook both told him to meet. “What the hell? Did you find her?”

Jimin rolled his eyes at the back of his head, his annoyance level rising through the roof and practically into heaven. “Yes, she’s here; she’s just invisible.”

“Not funny.” Jin crossed his arms, his broad shoulders rising and falling faintly for every breath he took. “How are we gonna find her?”

“Someone must have seen her after she left to go home yesterday morning.”

So that’s what they did. They jumped all over the palace, asking anyone who’d listen if they’d seen you. Jungkook was so desperate that he even asked his parents, who dismissed the concept of missing and went straight into “being out” during the night, whatever that meant.

When he asked his mother what ‘being out’ meant, she simply chided, “Please, honey it’s not the first time Y/N’s ‘disappeared.’ We’ve only been here for a little while, and already, I know about her little problem.”

“No, not on a day like this. Y/N wouldn’t betray her dignity on a special occasion, especially one this important.”

She scoffed, a maid hand fanning her face. “Oh, sweetie, you still have much to learn about her. She may be the best caterer this kingdom has seen, but she has an addiction to stealing anything that’s considered valuable. It’s not like it’s a secret. In fact, I’m quite surprised that they even hired her.”

“Stealing? Y/N doesn’t steal…”

She powdered her nose, glancing in the mirror. “Oh, yeah, she does. Why do you care so much anyway?”

“Mom, I already told you. She’s missing.” He stormed out the room and entered the hallway near the giant staircase, his anger filling up in his blood. No way you were capable of what she said. Right?

Jimin ran up to him, asking, “Anything?”

Jungkook gazed at the older boy, embarrassed by what was about to come out of his mouth. “D-did you know Y/N used to s-steal?”

“Yeah, but she wouldn’t do it again.” Jimin didn’t take any hesitating second.

The older boy shook his head in disbelief, but more towards something else. “She’s been doing so well! I swear on everything I believe in, she’s not out stealing. She’d never put her parents through that again.”

“Does everyone know about this?” It was a pretty dumb question Jungkook knew the answer to, but he asked anyway.

“Yeah, pretty much. When the ambassadors, nobles, king and queen found out, Y/N had to take counseling if she still wanted to work here.” Jimin grumbled, his face turning bright red. “And that counselor doesn’t know what meaning of privacy means. He blabbered on and on to his buddies about how she stole —”

He couldn’t believe you used to do that. It was too much for him to comprehend. “There’s a lot I’m missing out.” He sighed, leaning against the wall.

“You have no idea.”

Jungkook saw Tania leaving the ballroom, a bouquet in her hands. He ran over to her, leaving Jimin to fend for himself near the staircase. “Hey, Tania, have you seen Y/N?”

“Not since last night.”

He groaned. “Ah, fuck, how are we — wait, you saw her last night?”

Clearly, this made her uncomfortable, because she started biting the inside of her cheek and staring at Jungkook like he caught her doing something illegal. “No…”

“But you just said —”

“I know what I said!” she snapped at him, shoving the flowers on the floor. “I was out last night on a ride around two, and she was on the road. She invited me inside, had a cup of juice, talked, then I left. End of story.”

He wasn’t buying it. “Why were you out on a ride at two in the morning?”

“I needed some fresh air, and Y/N happened to be there.”

There was something off about her story, but he felt that if he pressed it, she’d burst. So, he decided to play it safe. “So, when you two talked, did she see agitated, or worried, maybe? Did she seem off?”

Picking up the flowers, she rolled her eyes, grumbling, “Do we have to talk about this?”

“Yes, because Y/N’s missing.”

“What a shame. I don’t really care for her.” She put the flowers in a vase on the side of the hallway, standing on a nightstand. “She could drop dead for all I care?”

This ticked a nerve for him. “What the hell is wrong with you? Why the fuck do you hate her so much? Is it because she’s not a noble? Is because she threatened you in some way? Is it because she used to steal —”

She turned and shoved him back, the flying vase missing his head by an inch, glass shattering around the wall behind him. Saying he was shocked would be the understatement of the year. His heart skipped a few beats, and his brain shut down for a mili-second.

Tania nearly took his head off! She simply stalked away, shoving Jimin as he ran for Jungkook.

“Dude, what the hell happened?” he asked, helping Jungkook off the floor. “She totally lashed out at you!”

Jungkook stood up by himself, pushing some broken glass off his shoulder. “Tania saw Y/N last night. Then she completely busted when I mentioned that Y/N used to steal —”

Jimin hit him upside the head. Hard.

Jungkook shouted, “Ow! What was that for?”

“For mentioning the stealing,” Jimin said, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. “You’re an absolute dumbass, I swear. Do you seriously not know the story of Tania’s first love?”

Jungkook sat down at the ends of the staircase, rubbing the back of the head. “What part of ‘there’s a lot I’m missing out’ do you not understand?”

Jimin glumly sat next to him, putting his hands on his knees. “I guess I should explain, then.”

“You think?”

“I may be small, but I swear I’ll whack you again.” He sighed and pulled his feet apart, preparing for the terrible memory.

“Well, once Tania fell in love with this foreign prince. They were head-over-heels in love with each other. They planned an amazing party to celebrate their upcoming marriage — now, keep in mind, back then, the staff was made of, let’s say, normal people from town, and not noble chefs and butlers.

“So, the entire staff was filled with jealousy — because they were secretly gang-thieves who hated all royalty in general — and decided to attack and rob the royals at the party.”

“I can see how that’s hard. But why does Tania take it so personally?”

Jimin glared at him as if to ask Really? “Whacking!”

“Okay. Sorry. Continue.”

“Anyway… The thieves stole everything — wallets, watches, jewelry, shoes, clothes, anything they could carry. The guards had been limited because Tania and her family trusted them. And the attack was so calculated, so thought out ahead of time, that someone must have been on the inside of the thieving gang, to make Tania let her guard down. And guess who it was?”

“I swear, if it’s Y/N, I’m gonna whack you in the head.”

“No, dumbass.” Jimin sighed, leaning in real close for the big reveal. “It was the prince Tania fell in love with.”

Jungkook’s jaw dropped to the steps. “No!”

“Yes. He was behind the whole thing. He gained Tania’s trust and had her take the security down at the party. He took it as his opportunity to attack them. Then he and his gang of thieves fled the scene, with no lead as to where they went.”

“Wow.” It took a second for Jungkook’s brain to process the story. “So, whenever someone steals —”

“Tania immediately hates them. She felt betrayed. And she’s still not healed entirely, to this day. You should have heard her crying in her room when her parents told her she was marrying you. She was heartbroken. In fact, up until you came along, she never looked at another man like that.”

“Well, now, I feel bad.”

“Don’t beat yourself up. It’s okay. You didn’t know better.” He pulled Jungkook on his feet. “Now, we have to find Y/N… and we still don’t know where she could be. Shit.”

“Let’s not panic, okay? Maybe she’s —”

“KIDNAPPED!” Jin’s voice appeared out of nowhere as he ran down the hall, waving around a piece of metal. When he finally caught up to the duo, he held the metal up.

“Y/N’s parents dropped this off,” he explained. “Jungkook, they thought it was yours and accidentally left it behind at their house.”

Jungkook shook his head, gazing deeply at the metal piece, studying it. “I’ve never seen that before in my life.”

“How clueless are you?” Jin asked, raising a brow. “Do you seriously not know what pendant this is?”

Jimin shook his head. “Oh, god no. He doesn’t know anything.” He snatched the pendant from Jin’s open hands and held it up to his face. “It’s the symbol for this gang downtown affiliated with looting, stealing. It’s the one Y/N used to be in.”

“What does that have to do with anything?”

Jin groaned. “Wow, you need to be up to date. Y/N’s parents found it in her room. If one of those gangster-thieving people was there, it would explain why she’s gone. Typically, when one of their best’s given up stealing — which rarely happens, by the way — the gang leader has to cut off loose ends.”

“Loose ends?” Jungkook asked. “LIKE KILL HER?”

“Usually. Or relocation… by force.”

“Okay. Then all we have to do is get her. Should be easy.” Jungkook rubbed his head again, straightening his back. “All we have to do is tell the guards and they’ll take care of it.”

“And tell them what?” Jin snapped at him, his tall figure towering over Jungkook. “They think we’re disposable, even specially hired ones like us.” He gestured towards himself and Jimin. “Don’t you get it? People don’t care about us. If we’re doing this, we’re doing it ourselves.”

“Do we tell Tania?”

“Hell no. She’ll ridicule us and that rat us out for being mad enough to go after someone like Y/N. She’s not very fond of thieves, or even ones who used to be.”

“Fine. Let’s just go before anyone notices we’re gone. We’ll scope the gang out, see if Y/N is okay, and that should probably cause for the guards to get involved, right?”

“I guess.” Jin turned his body around, handing Jimin the pendant. “I have to stay here or they’ll know something up, and you could get busted for snooping on private property. Good luck, you two.”

We’re gonna need it. Jungkook sighed, grabbed Jimin, and headed out, with the older boy telling him directions to downtown.

The trek is tedious, tiring, and down-right exhausting.

The roads seemed endless, just going on and on. The sun gave them mercy and headed down for the night, the moon grazing their skins and gracing them with a little cold chill.

After an hour or two of wandering around the city, they became irritable.

Jimin growled, “I can’t keep walking like this. Where the hell is the stupid gang?” He shivered closer to Jungkook, capturing all his body heat.

Jungkook eyed a dark alley they came around, the wind whistling their way. The alley was dark and definitely dangerous at this part of town and this time of night, but he had a gut conscious, something that told him this was a good way to go if they wanted to find you.

“I have a feeling we’re getting closer,” Jungkook whispered, pulling Jimin through the alleyway, treading extremely softly.

They tried not making any noise, afraid that if they did, some terrible person would come out and attack them. And tonight was just scoping and snooping. Nothing too serious. They’d rather lay off the attacks and kidnappings.

“I really don’t like it here.” Jimin gripped his shoulders, hanging on for dear life. “I feel like someone’s watching us.

“Sh. We need to keep quiet. We don’t know what’s down here with us.”

“Yeah, for all we know, there could be fucking gremlins.”

“Gremlins, seriously? We have bigger issues that a mythical creature.” Jungkook grasped hold of Jimin side, keeping him hidden behind him. “By the way, if we die, I just want you to know… I may have eaten your breakfast dessert.”

“YOU DID WHAT?”

A trashcan twirled in their direction. Jungkook chucked down, dragging Jimin with him to the muddy ground. “Shh…” He clapped his hand over Jimin’s mouth before the older boy could respond to his demand.

The trashcan landed somewhere the boys had come from, breaking the silence again with a big crash! A cat, at least Jungkook thought it was a cat, shrieked and scurried off into the fire escape on the side of the building on the right.

Jungkook loosened his hand on Jimin’s mouth, gazing forward, to whoever threw the trashcan. As Jungkook silently studied the darkness, footsteps echoed off the small walls.

Anxiety filling his stomach, Jimin fumbled with the pendant, studying it again. “Oh, god… Jungkook, we have to go.” He ferociously pat Jungkook’s back. “We have to go now and tell Tania.”

“No. I’m not leaving without Y/N.”

“But… it’s him,” Jimin whispered as the footsteps came closer. Neither of them seemed content on moving anytime soon.

“Who’s ‘him?’”

Jimin rustled to his feet, pulling Jungkook back up. He pointed to the name on the pendant. “Right there. It spells Yoongi.”

Jungkook raised an eyebrow, his confusion spreading even further, along with his anxiety as the footsteps got louder. He quickly asked, “Who’s Yoongi?”

“Jungkook…”

As the owner of the footsteps entered in the light, Jimin gasped, keeping his voice very minimal. “Yoongi was Tania’s first love — the one who robbed her and her family and shamed her and made her hate Y/N and anyone who steals!”

The figure stepped forward, making the two boys jump back and have their bums on the ground, looking up at a boy — a boy barely older than them. His face was barely visible, but his smile was. And it wasn’t a warming, summer-feel smile. Quite the opposite.

“Yoongi,” Jimin squealed. Jungkook didn’t know whether or not that was for him or just for the sake of himself.

Yoongi’s grin widened when he saw the two boys jumping in fear. The man clapped his hands together repeatedly, like he just saw the end of an amazing play.

“Welcome, lads. I’m sincerely glad you could make it. We’ve been waiting.”

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