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jiihu · 1 year

Note

your recent chaewon fic was so good! if you can, pls make a part two but with a happier(?) ending (reader can end up with whoever you choose!)

﹅ 𝗹𝗲𝗮𝘃𝗲 𝗯𝗲𝗳𝗼𝗿𝗲 𝘆𝗼𝘂 𝗹𝗼𝘃𝗲 𝗺𝗲 (𝟮); 𝗸𝗶𝗺 𝗰𝗵𝗮𝗲𝘄𝗼𝗻

﹅ summary — after overhearing chaewon admit that she was jealous of kazuha, you re-evaluate the relationship between you and kazuha.

﹅ content — slight angst, fluff

﹅ word count — 1.7k

﹅ a/n — tysm! i hope this was a good happier(?) ending. idk i didn't want to change the dynamic too much methinks. and i'm not good with fluff so i didn't want to make it too long TT

Once I stepped inside my house, I kicked my shoes across the room and fell against the cushions of the couch. “What did Chaewon mean by she can’t help but be jealous of Kazuha?” I mumbled as I stared at the ceiling as if I was going to get an answer. Sitting up on the couch and tossing my jacket to the side, I walked over to the kitchen and turned on the stove before squatting down to look under the counter. I dug around in the cabinet and found the small pot that I use for making noodles, and another that I use for frying sausages. I filled the pot up with water and sat it on the burner, stepping over to the pantry to find a pack of noodles. I groaned when I opened the pantry to find an empty box of noodles, with a sticky note on it that read ‘sorry! i ate the last one. i’ll buy you more, don’t worry! -chae ♡’

I rolled my eyes, closing the pantry and pouring out the water that was heating on the stove. “Takeout it is.” I walked toward my bedroom, grabbed a change of clothes, and headed to the bathroom. As I was closing the door, my phone started ringing. I walked over to my phone, leaning over to read the name. “Eunchae?” I answered the phone, bringing it to my ear.

“Y/N! Our comeback music video showcase is starting in 15 minutes!” I snatched the phone away from my ear, her loud voice making me laugh.

“Alright, alright. Give me a second to turn it on.”

“No!” I raised my eyebrow, putting down the remote after I heard her.

“What do you mean no?”

“I mean come to our practice room! It’s on the big TV here!” After a while of telling Eunchae that I didn’t feel like leaving the house again, and her begging me to come anyway, I reluctantly agreed and tossed my change of clothes on the back of the couch. I picked my keys up from the counter and walked over to the door, pressing my head to it and sighing before stepping out and locking the door. I felt my phone buzzing as I headed out of my building and I looked down at it to see frantic texts from Eunchae again. 'hurry' 'where are u' 'it's 8 mins left!'

I started jogging towards the HYBE building, ignoring the looks that I got from everyone as I broke out into a full sprint once the building was in sight. I burst through the door and pressed the button on the elevator, panting for breath while leaning against the wall. After I was inside and headed up to their room, I quickly looked at the timer and saw that it was 20 seconds left. I turned the corner and quietly opened the door, seeing them all standing in front of the TV watching the countdown. I saw Sakura put her hands over her mouth in anticipation as the timer continued counting down. When the timer ended and the music video started, I heard a chorus of shouting and I watched as they started jumping up and down. After I laughed at their celebration, Eunchae turned around and ran over, engulfing me in a tight hug. "Did you see that? We did it!" I let out a grunt as I was pushed back into the wall by the rest of the girls joining in on the hug.

"We look so good," Yunjin said as we all watched the video, sitting on the floor to watch. Eunchae and Kazuha both sat on my sides, Eunchae pushing my arm anytime there was an exciting clip on screen.

"I remember filming that, but I had no idea it'd come out like that." Sakura pointed at the screen at her underwater scene. I held my phone in my hand, watching the comments on YouTube as the video played on the TV. Once the video ended, Yunjin let out a loud 'wow' that everyone laughed at. While everyone was talking about what they liked about the MV, I looked to my right and saw Chaewon staring at me with an intense gaze, and I could tell that she had something to say.

"Y/N, what'd you think of the video?" Kazuha interjected, looking between Chaewon and me with a perplexed expression.

"Oh! I really liked the part where Yunjin and Eunchae were in the field with flowers." I quickly rushed out, not wanting them to think that I wasn't paying attention. I heard their words of agreement as they started discussing the scene, and I took that moment to silently stand and slip out of the door, heading down the hallway to the vending machine. "Tea or water?" I questioned myself, tapping my fingers on the glass.

"The tea is really good. Not too sweet," I heard from behind me. I turned around to see Chaewon with her jacket in her hands. I nodded my head, pushing the button for the tea and reaching into my pocket for my card. Before I could swipe, Chaewon beat me to it, holding up a card that read 'HYBE' on the front.

"Complimentary drinks," she smiled. I muttered a thanks, reaching down to pick up the can. As I took my first sip, I saw Chaewon out of the corner of my eye with an expecting look. I gave her a thumbs up, turning around to walk back towards the room. As I turned around, I felt her fingers catch my sleeve. "Y/N, I know we didn't end off on the best note, but this doesn't have to be awkward between us." I turned to face her, staring into her eyes for a second before I sighed.

"I guess you're right. It's just..." I trailed off, toying with the tab on the can. "It's going to take me a while to get over this." She nodded, letting go of the hem of my sleeve.

"Actually, I've been thinking and..." I heard her words stop and I followed her gaze to Kazuha standing behind us.

"Sorry, you guys were gone for a while and I wanted to make sure nothing happened," she stated, her eyes lingering on Chaewon a bit longer than mine. I reassured her that we were fine, and I followed her back to the room. Once I reached the room, I saw that their dance instructor was having the girls stretch before they started. I quietly snuck in and grabbed my phone and hoodie before whispering a 'bye-bye!'.

"Let me walk you out," Chaewon insisted. I looked toward the instructor and she nodded, holding up a five. Chaewon and I walked to the elevator in silence, bumping arms now and then. As we entered the elevator, I heard her sigh. "I'm sorry, Y/N. Seriously." I looked over at her, watching as she chewed on her lip and refused to make eye contact. "Not just for what happened recently, but for how I've always treated you. I know you heard, too." I raised an eyebrow, tilting my head at her. "What I said to Sakura. About Kazuha." I opened my mouth in a silent 'oh', gesturing her to go on. "I know this is selfish of me, but I didn't realize my true feelings for you until I noticed the way you and Kazuha interacted."

"I thought you didn't have any feelings toward me," I questioned her, stepping out of the elevator behind her. "I did too. Until I realized that I was just pushing them down. I was scared, Y/N. Scared to get too attached to you." She whispered, not wanting any staff to hear her speaking. I continued walking outside, stopping in front of the building to look at her.

"Why are you jealous of Kazuha anyway? We're just friends." Chaewon scoffed, shaking her head.

"I've seen the way she looks at you, Y/N. Everyone with eyes has seen it. Even before we met, I could see the look in her eyes when she talked about you." I frowned, thinking back on our previous encounters. Was Chaewon really telling the truth? "Listen, I've got to get back before I get scolded. Think about what I said!" She shouted, turning around to run back into the building. I stood still for a second before turning around to start my walk home.

While I was walking, I thought about what Chaewon said, trying to remember any encounters with Kazuha that might hint at her feelings for me. I looked over to a food stand on the side of the street, remembering how I went there with the members a couple of weeks ago. I thought about how Kazuha paid for me, insisting that I needed to eat something, even though I left my card at home. But that's what normal friends do for each other, right? I sighed, turning the corner to my building and walking in the side door. I let out a laugh, running my hand over the same dent in the wall as I do every day. I thought back to when Kazuha was trying to help me bring my new TV, and she let the box slip from her grasp.

"Kazuha!" I shrieked, setting my side of the box on the ground. "What if it's broken?" I threw my head back, thinking about the amount of money that I might've just wasted.

"I'll just get you a new one if it broke. It'd be my fault anyway," she shrugged, grabbing her side of the box again. "Now come on, I'm thirsty."

In the end, the TV wasn't broken and I remembered how we both sat on the couch all night, watching the replay of the award show that she attended the other night. Even though I had already seen it live, I still decided to sit down and watch it with her since she seemed so excited. I groaned, locking the door behind me and leaning against the kitchen counter. Even if she did like me the way Chaewon insists, it would feel wrong to immediately get into a relationship with her, after Chaewon had just confessed her feelings for me as well. The more I thought about the situation, the more frustrated I got. No matter who I decided to choose, my relationship with the other would never be the same. I pulled my phone out of my pocket, went to my contacts, and dialed a number. Walking over to the couch, I sat down on it, nervously picking at the shedding fibers on the side.

"Hello?"

"Hey, Zuha. Can we talk tonight?"

#fem reader #le sserafim x reader #le sserafim chaewon #kim chaewon x reader #chaewon x reader #chaewon imagines #kim chaewon imagines #le sserafim imagines #le sserafim kazuha #kazuha x reader #kazuha imagines #kpop imagines #girl group imagines #gg imagines #⸻ writes! 📄#⸻ asks! 🎙️

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creativeashproductions · 3 years

Text

Reluctant Vacation // Charlie Gillespie

Summary: The niece of the infamous Kenny Ortega had its advantages and disadvantages, you received insight on his projects but felt guilty saying no. Kenny seeing the exhaustion pulling you down invites to the set of Julie and the Phantoms where you rediscover your love with the field.

Warning: Swearing and fluff.

Words 2.2k

A/N: I do take requests. It may take a bit to get to them but I’ll post some.

Please ask to be tagged in my inbox because I can’t promise you will be through commenting on the posts!

Masterlist

The sigh came from deep in your chest wanting to drop to the floor for an exhaustion induced nap, but an airport wasn’t the best place. Large sunglasses obscured people from seeing the deep bags under your eyes on the way to the film lot. It was coming full circle, the change different from the frantic schedule you had had recently. When Kenny called you hadn’t hesitated in packing and buying a ticket.

“Miss Y/L/N?” The voice pulled you from your thoughts as a man holding a card with your name displayed. He was of Puerto Rican descendent with a young girl beside him with similar features, “I’m Ricardo. This is my daughter Madison.”

“It’s nice to meet you. I’m-“

“Y/N Y/L/N.” Madison supplied with a beaming grin on her face having recognized you from your role as Sabrina in The Chilling Adventures of Sabrina along with movies.

All you could do was send a fragile smile in response after a long sleepless flight to Canada.

Madison’s eyes saddened at the exhaustion you carried, “I can fangirl later. You looked really tired.”

“Kenny saw and asked me to come over the guise of help, but he knows I need a break. He’s lucky I don’t need to be on set for a few weeks.” You replied, covering a yawn as you found yourself at a car, the walk a blur.

Unintentionally you found yourself asleep in the backseat the moment you settled back there for the drive. You had filmed in Vancouver before, so it wasn’t a huge deal, and the Reyes’ duo didn’t have the heart to wake you up.

“We’re here,” Madison whispered with the back-car door opened. Your eyelids fluttering at her voice, giving Madison a closer look at your face.

Walking on set, you saw Kenny giving one of his pep talks before he cut himself off at the sight of you. The actors surrounding him furrowed their brows as the legendary director power walked to a person concealed behind Mads.

“Sweetheart.” Kenny beamed, pulling his niece in for a hug before leaning back to scan her features, “You need a nap.”

“I need to meet your new cast.” You snickered stepping around the man to the three actors he had abandoned to see you. You found amusement in their widening eyes at the sight of the Y/N walking to them.

“Oh, my shit.” Owen gasped freaking out as the actress co-starring in the new Spider-Man trilogy came closer.

Last night Owen, Charlie and Jeremy had hosted a movie night in the rented apartment the first two rented. They had quickly made their way through Captain America: Civil War before watching the following movies with Spider-Man. You had a cameo in Captain America: Civil War before becoming a star in Homecoming and Far From Home.

“We manifested her.” Charlie hissed frantically fixing his set costume growing a blush at the smile you wore. He could feel the hair stylist on standby glaring at his tousled locks.

The girl in question came to a stop before the three guys portraying the phantoms of the show in the second season. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the expressions each one of them had.

“Hello.” You greeted flattered when the tall blonde one turned a blossom pink at the voice of an angel. Charlie and Owen had developed celebrity crushes on you.

In revenge, Tori, a returning choreographer and background character, saw Charlie’s expression along with a familiar girl. After filming season one ended the previous year you had stopped by during the filming process of CAOS to catch up with Kenny. Tori had been there and you two became friends.

“Hey!” Tori grinned, pulling you into a hug, “These three binged your MCU movies last night, and Charlie’s wallpaper is you.”

“Tori!”

“This is what you get for telling Booboo about the poster!” Tori called to the Canadian boy jogging out his area. Charlie’s cheek darkened more than Owen’s as your smile grew bigger.

“No worries Ghost. Luke definitely my favourite character and gotta say you should have been on Charmed more than two episodes.” You supplied walking backwards to Kenny once more yearning for a night’s rest after the flight.

“Holy shit.” Charlie choked smacking Jeremy’s arm repeatedly, “She knows me. Oh, oh, OH. She’s seen me-“

“-Getting it on for a scene.” Jeremy snickered as his friend grew more and more flustered, “That was tame compared to her and Tom going at it.”

Charlie’s face dropped being reminded of the explicit scene you had done with Tom Holland in the movie that came out near the end of 2020. The Devil All the Time was the only film out of the MCU you had done with Tom. You had played the promiscuous daughter of a devout, loyal churchgoer and close friend of the preacher.

“Didn’t they date for a few months?” Owen questioned thinking back to the media mayhem during the virtual press for the film.

Owen was correct with the chemistry between you and Tom it was natural you would do interviews together via shared video chats. Charlie watched every single one that came out with interest. He hadn’t even expected the film to do so dark and explicit, but you had a natural talent.

“English, handsome, actor-“ Charlie started to list off on the English actor with a far more extensive list of credits. Charlie felt like a Canadian child in the city of Los Angeles compared to your leading man.

“-runs a charity with his family.” Jeremy continued raising one eyebrow, “At least he isn’t tall. You’d be fully screwed.”

Charlie shoved his teasing friends away with a smirk of his own as the trio continued on to the film. Charlie put his feelings on the back burner to focus on the storyline and emotions of the scene.

“Spider-Man Three baby!” The English accent shouted from the phone with only an ocean separating the two actors. Tom hadn’t even greeted you before screaming at the news you both received; despite the scripts from a few weeks prior the sequel had fully been greenlighted

Your head tossed back at the childlike glee on the older adult, clearly displaying the two years really mean he was two years old. After meeting on the set of Civil War along with Harrison, you had become friends. Followed with the following MCU appearances, it had been a surprise to be cast in Devil All the Time.

“Insane.” You started making your way through the set to where Kenny had texted you from. It was closing to the end of your vacation.

In the few weeks, you had reconnected with Tori on her breaks along with becoming good friends with the cast members. Something clicked between you and the core four of the show even if Madison sometimes still got starstruck.

“Did you read the script?” Tom questioned quirking his infamous eyebrow his fans wholly adored. You found it amusing, to be honest, that every character he portrayed had the same eyebrow.

“Not fully. I’m surrounded by people, and unlike you, I prefer not to jeopardize my career with marvel.” You teased glancing up as Charlie and Owen made their way over, “I’ll be flying out in a few days for filming.”

Tom nodded his head, “I got get back. Jacob and Haz are visiting. Remember to film the announcement! Bye Love!”

You gave a thumbs up before Tom ended the facetime glancing up at the duo who each raised their eyebrows. Charlie’s mask nearly breaking at Tom’s goodbye. Charlie could feel the cover of his feelings falling more and more each day.

“Announcement?” Owen questioned, slipping his jacket on over his shoulders having changed from his Alex outfit.

“Nothing.” You waved it off, starting to walk backwards with a smile that Charlie thought made your eyes shine brighter than stars.

The boys followed behind on the walk to the house Jeremy and Carolynn had decided to rent during filming. You had been crashing there as Jeremy didn’t want Carolynn to be alone with his filming schedule. It also gave the perfect place for your plan. Last few nights you had binged the marvel movies again ending with Far From Home.

The living room was decked out by Carolynn with your help from earlier as she was the only know that knew. Everyone settled in the living room with Mr Reyes there as well who had quickly become a father figure to you.

“So, I wanted everyone here for a reason. I’m sure you’ve noticed I’ve been reading a script and I have something to open.” You started thanking Jeremy as he brought in the package, he had no clue of the contents, “Now nobody says any spoilers for season two.”

You turned on the camera Paul Becker had supplied with a small smile having already filmed the opening sequence. You sat on the floor in the camera shot, opening the big box to hand out the smaller boxes to your friends. Charlie, Owen, Jeremy, Madison, Savannah, Booboo and every else glanced at the non-descript red box.

“Open them.” You urged grinning as the room went silent except for the tape ripping off the packages.

In each individual box was marvel themed candy, a plushie of Spider-Man along with signed cards from the Avengers actors and the MCU Spider-Man cast. At the very bottom, all it said was to look up at you. Instead of facing them with their looks of shock, you addressed the camera.

“Tom and I are so incredibly happy to announce that Spider-Man 3 is in the beginning process of filming.” You beamed at the camera listening to the intense noise of your friends screaming, “we can’t reveal anything else about the film, but the script is immaculate as usual. You’ll get to see Harper on the screen once more.”

“WHAT!” The collective scream behind you came as you waited a second before ending the video. You’d have to replay it before sending to marvel for the finishing touches with Tom’s version and then you could post it on Instagram.

“Surprise!” You spoke to the group behind you all in states of excitement, “You don’t know how much I’ve wanted to tell you guys! I got the script a few days before I came.”

“Holy shit.” Owen spoke, laughing at he shook his head, “You managed to get autographs from fucking Iron Man himself.”

“I got connections.” You snorted meeting the gaze of Charlie, “Nah, Downey’s kids came for a visit, and I kept them company. Downey offered to do anything, and I took the favour.”

The surprise wore off as the group mingled, but Charlie’s eyes stayed pinned to your form as you sent a message to Tom. Locking your phone to noticed his eyes.

“Hey Charlie.” You smiled, sitting on the couch next to him. His expressive eyes showing a silver screen of emotions you couldn’t quite decipher.

The corner of his mouth tilted up in response to the way his name rolled off your tongue, sending his heart stuttering. A cold sweat appearing when you grasped his hand in yours in a confident manner.

“So, you leave soon?” Charlie murmured moving closer to hear you among the chatter of the group. Your lips turned down for a split second as you felt the sadness of leaving.

It was refreshing to be on set without the demands of makeup, costumes, filming and choreography. To see the action and magic but not be part of it was a definite change you had needed desperately. But to leave Charlie hurt.

“My call time is in three days. Need to get ready to bring Harper Osbourne back to the big screen.” You replied, loosening your grip on his hand, “I don’t really want to go back. I’m gonna miss you…and everyone else of course.”

Unaware to the eyes watching in anticipation you and Charlie conversed further on the upcoming months. To the great disappointment of the house began to clear out, Owen for an early call time. Savannah was meeting with her brother, and Mr Reyes was taking Madison home.

It left Jeremy and Carolynn to retire to their bedroom while you stayed on the couch with Charlie for longer. The emotions building from the prior weeks, bubbling to the surface. Hearts thudding in their chest Charlie leaned in glancing at your lips; yours glancing at his.

Who moved first couldn’t be known, but as your lips brushed together just barely you felt grounded and peaceful. If he leaned closer, you wonder what the kiss would make you feel.

“I’d like to kiss you.” Charlie murmured startled at the confidence he had gained, “But before I do. Do you have something with Tom?”

“Other than onscreen chemistry? Absolutely nothing.” You spoke barely louder than a whisper to the boy that had become so much more than some actor.

He was Charlie. The goofy boy that put a smile on anyone’s face with an impromptu concert in the middle of a crowded street. He lived life to the fullest without any regrets. He was passionate about his work, music and the environment.

Those thoughts evaporated when lips met another pair of lips in what might be described as the best kiss ever. No fireworks felt as Wattpad would say, but instead, it was the heady warmth of hot chocolate on a cold day; a warm shower after a long stressful day. It was home and perfect.

Tag List (PLEASE SEND AN INBOX TO BE ADDED! I CANNOT GUARANTEE YOU WILL BE ON THE LIST VIA POST COMMENTS!)

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#charlie gillespie imagines #charlie gillespie fanfiction #charlie gillespie x reader #charlie gillespie imagine #charlie gillespie #jatp fanfic #luke patterson imagines #caitsy and ash productions

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sw124 · 3 years

Text

MLC: Sarah and Eugene

[Western Dragon Boyfriend]

“Oh for the love of a- Eugene!”

Fifth time this week, a wall of miscellaneous items almost crashing down on the young girl. All randomized junk from stuffed animals, plastic fast food toys, old rugs and so on. These weren’t even normal things for dragons to collect! She’d understand if they were like priceless items like artwork stuff but not random things.

The worst part of all this is when she tried to throw them away he’d throw such a hissy fit, not a toddler one but the kind where he’d get really weepy and cry…an that was something Sarah avoided. When he started crying he always had to hug her like a teddy bear until he was done, or she give in and not touch his things. But it was starting to get out of hand and their apartment was going to run out of space very, very soon.

She turned around, already she saw the dragon in question peeking just around the corner….he looked like a puppy who got caught piddling on the rug. Oh she was ready to tear a new one, the pile almost fell right on top of her, she could’ve gotten hurt!

She was already to yell….but instead stopped, pinched the bridge of her nose and gave a heavy sigh. No, yelling never solved anything and…she just couldn’t do that to Eugene no matter how bad he messed up. She needed to handle this with a calm mind.

“Help me clean this up please…” she sighed, in all honesty she wanted to cry…she was just so tired of this…

The constant fear of being crushed under an avalanche of junk, the back and forth arguing and then some…not to mention their apartment would soon run out of space for them both to live comfortably. She knelt down and started picking up a few of the things, Eugene knelt beside her and helped….she looked an already saw the tears forming.

“I’m sorry….I’m so sorry love, I know you don’t like this and I’ve been selfish but..I can’t throw this stuff away, I don’t know how to explain it in a way anyone can understand…”

He wasn’t lying, she knew if he was lying. This big boy as so bad at lying, it was so bad no one tells him if there was a surprise party cause he’d couldn’t keep the secret.

“I know hon, listen…I get its your nature to collect and protect your treasures, I just don’t see how any of these things are ‘treasures’ to be honest.”

Ooh…maybe she should’ve held back on that, now he looked like a kicked puppy…well no going back now, time to spring the question.

“Eugene, I think we ‘both’ need to work on this. I want to know what makes these things so special but you have trouble telling me. So I’ve been thinking…what if we went to see that Dr. Fortune we heard about on the TV?”

There was a long pause…flicking his long tail from side to side like a cat sometimes helped him think. He didn’t like airing out his problems to strangers but…an this was getting a bit out of hand. What if Sarah got hurt next time…he could never forgive himself if that happened.

“An….we’ll do it ‘together’ right?” Whimpered Eugene, he drooped his head down to look her this time directly….oh his heart jumped when she gave him a smile.

“Of course, we’ll do it together. In fact how about we make the appointment together after we clean this up. Sound good?”

This time was his turn to smile, oh it wasn’t fair for a smile to be that adorable! After giving a peck on the cheek to each other they proceeded to push the wall of junk back into the closet, they’d deal with it later.

[one week later]

Sarah had to admit, she never expected a doctors office to be so…huge or well furnished, especially for Eugene’s standards. When they made the call the doctor made a rather…odd request. They had to bring five items of Eugene’s choice to the first meeting, apparently to help understand his reasonings.

So after going through the ‘avalanche’ again, Eugene gathered five items. Each one he cradled to his chest as if it was made of delicate glass, odd sine they were made of plastic. Dr. Fortune sat across from them with a clipboard in hand, twirling a pen the other before turning to smile at them.

“Well, lets get started. Eugene, did you bring five things from your collection?”

With a nod, Eugene pulled out the items in question. One bobble head fairy, one kitty keychain, a little fast food toy car, a pendant from some costume jewelry and lastly a tiny princess figurine. Sarah blinked, they were odd little things to keep.

“Eugene, these are very precious to you right?” Asked Fortune.

“Yes…very much so.”

Fortune picked up the princess figurine “An out of all of them…this one is the most precious of them all cause its tied to Sarah.”

Sarah snapped her gaze directly on the doctor, they held the little figure flat in their palm. For a moment Sarah dismissed it as some random piece of Eugene’s collection..although she had a feeling she seen that little figure before but couldn’t’ quite place ware…an why was it connected to her. She watched as Eugene reached and plucked it from the doctors hand…he was smiling so innocently like he was holding a newborn kitten.

“I…bought this at the shop Sarah worked at when we first met, it was a souvenir shop at a renaissance themed park…”

Sarah’s eyes almost popped out of her socket when she heard that….now she remembered! Eugene coming in looking both annoyed and frantic, how she barricaded the door to keep the growing crowd of entitled brats out…an how he timidly asked to buy the little princess figurine….

“An all these other things are from dates you went on with Sarah, so your treasure is keepsakes from your time spent with your darling, correct?”

Eugene nodded, he clutched the princess figurine in his massive claws…shivering a little bit.

“Its normal for dragons to collect treasures but you can’t just collect every little thing she touches on your dates, but I do have a solution that may help with his hoarding.” The doctor smiled and took out their phone.

“For starters, pictures are wonderful keepsakes that won’t take up space in your house just your phone…unless you got the ‘cloud’ an a lot of memory on it. An if you want something to put in your room that really means something then sure keep it, but be aware that you two must live together an if these items get out of hand then you’ll need to throw them out or find a new space thats out of the way.”

From Eugene the doctor turned to Sarah.

“As for you, understand a dragon’s treasure is really precious to him and he’ll fight tooth and claw to protect it. However dragons also can be sensitive, so if it does get out of hand please try not to yell or guilt them into throwing some of it away. Be gentle in your approach and if so maybe work with them on finding a space that they can keep their treasures in.”

The two looked at each other…an back at the items at hand..

“It doesn’t have to be right away, take your time in how you tackle this problem. But remember…take it slow, if you rush things it’ll only cause problems. Start out with little things before moving to big ones.”

With that said the session ended, they thanked the doctor and left the office. The ride home was quiet to say the least, both digesting the advice the doctor gave them. When they came home..they found the ‘avalanche’ was still there…still the large pile of things from date nights or outings….

Sarah went to use the bathroom but…when she came back she found the entire ‘avalanche’ was gone. Eugene tying up a black trash-bag and setting it by the door. A big smile on his face, on the counter were some small items she recognized from trips they took.

“Um…honey, you don’t have to throw them all away, you can look through them and-“

She was cut off by his claw so gently pressing against her lips.

“I know…but to be honest…I’ve got what I wanted, I went through them and…I don’t remember half of the items in these piles. Some didn’t spark any memories, but the ones that did I’ve kept and I took a picture of the pile already. So I can safely say these can get thrown away.” He gave a big grin and held up his phone, a picture of the mess in his collection.

She then watch as he put some of the treasures he kept on the mantle in the living room…the princess figurine in the center. Sarah smiled…then ran quickly to her room, Eugene watched..his head cocked to the side a bit. She came jogging back holding something, gently she placed it next to the princess figurine. It was a special in incense burner designed as a castle with a dragon on top, when a incense cone burned in it the smoke traveled up and out the dragons nose and mouth.

“When did you get that?” Asked Eugene.

“…I got this after you left the shop that day.”

Eugene turned to her, eyes wide…

Sarah continued. “I thought it was so cute how you purchased that little figurine, so much in fact I ended up buying this at another shop at the fairgrounds….to be honest I didn’t know if I was ever gonna see you again so I bought it to never forget that day. How funny it was to see you come in the next day…browse the shop and ask me to give you a tour of the fairgrounds…”

He couldn’t argue with her there…the two looked up at the mantel, the princess figurine and the dragon statue. Standing side by side…almost like they were meant to be.

#fanfic #monster boyfriend #monster

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slapshot-to-the-heart · 3 years

Text

complication, miscommunication - a. beauvillier

Popping in with another Beau fic! I wasn’t sure who to write this one about for the longest time, so it was on the back burner for a while, but I think it works really well with him. Let me know what you think - hop into my inbox, please reblog it if you liked reading! (I also love reading the tags.) I love getting feedback!

word count: 3k+

The offseason was never a good time for anyone who was unsigned, and Anthony Beauvillier was no exception. After a second-round loss to the Hurricanes in the playoffs, he was taking some time off before leaving New York to spend the summer in Montréal. “Maja,” he called, looking over at the couch to where his girlfriend of a year and a half sat curled up on the other side, seemingly engrossed in a book. Anthony chuckled. “Maja,” he said a little louder. She made a noncommittal noise. “Maja Mitsuko Okabe.”

Maja snapped her book shut, looking up at him with panic in her eyes. “What? What is it? What’s wrong?”

He snorted. “Does something have to be wrong for me to talk to the woman I love?”

“You full-named me,” Maja shrugged, tucking her feet beneath her on the couch cushion. “Doesn’t usually happen.”

Anthony searched his mind, frantically trying to come up with some excuse for interrupting her, but not coming up with anything that would sound very convincing. “I was just wondering...if you had booked your flights yet for the summer.”

Maja narrowed her eyes; she clearly wasn’t buying it. “Yeah, booked them yesterday. Air Canada nonstop from LaGuardia to Montréal.” She had requested the time off two weeks ago, and would have heard back sooner had it not been for a staffing change in the HR department of the green energy firm where she worked as an electrical engineer. “I’ll try to get a Friday off sometime in August, come up for a long weekend.”

“I’d like that,” he said. Of course I’d like it,” he thought. Why wouldn’t I like it? Why did I even say that?

“Something’s on your mind, Beau,” Maja said softly. And, like almost every other time she said so, she was right.

“Yeah,” he sighed. There wasn’t really any use trying to keep it from her. “I’m not sure if the team’s going to give me a qualifying offer.”

Maja shifted towards him on the couch, propping her head up on one arm. “And who told you that?”

“Nobody, really,” Beau said, shrugging. “It’s just a bad feeling I have. My season wasn’t bad, but I still underperformed, and I know Trotz and Lou were looking for me to step up in terms of goals. Playmaking isn’t everything.” Anthony’s voice dropped. “I know I obviously wouldn’t be able to do anything until I know if they’ll extend an offer, but…” He paused. “My agent’s heard some interest from other teams. Guess they just want to throw their hats in the ring if it comes to that.”

Maja played with the clasp on her bracelet, the same one Anthony had gotten her for their one-year anniversary. “Where?”

“Winnipeg, Minnesota, I think he might have mentioned something about Edmonton.”

“Oilers, huh?” Maja said carefully. “Playing with McDavid, that could be cool.”

Beau made a face. “I mean, yeah, it would be, but…” He trailed off. “But that’s in Edmonton. It’s thousands of miles away. I’d hate having to leave the team, I wouldn’t get to play with Mat anymore. And I don’t know where that would leave us.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know where that would leave us? I’d go with you, I thought you knew that.” Maja stopped playing with her bracelet. She said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world, like there was never a possibility she would have considered anything else.

Anthony turned to her. “But you love it here. You love your job, you’re doing important stuff.”

And that much was true; Maja loved feeling like she was using her knowledge for good, and her coworkers were some of the best she’d ever had. But she loved Tito more. “I am, but I can find a job pretty much anywhere, Beau. It’s important to me that we stay together.”

“But what if I do go back to Canada?” Anthony said, one hand running through his hair. “Your whole family’s in Boston, I wouldn’t want to take you away from that. And you don’t know anyone there, and I wouldn’t want you to have to move to an entirely new country just for me.”

“It’s really not all that different, Beau,” Maja said, stiffening. “I’m an engineer. I can get a job anywhere, I might have to get a new license but it’s not that hard. Weather wouldn’t be a shock, I’ve dealt with snow my whole life. And unless you went to Montréal, it’s not even like I’d have a language barrier.”

“I know,” he said, “but I don’t want you to feel like it’s an obligation for you to pick up your whole life and move just because of me.”

Maja stood up abruptly, nervously running her hands over her jeans. “It’s starting to sound like you wouldn’t want me to come, Anthony,” she snapped.

He screwed his eyes shut. She didn’t call him by his whole name unless she was really, really fed up with him. “It’s not that, I just—”

“You just what?” Maja cut him off. “Because whether or not it’s what you meant by it, Beau, the way you worded it makes me think you’re not serious about this. About us. And I know beyond a shadow of a doubt that I am, so I’m going to need you to do some real soul-searching and get back to me about how you really feel, because it sounds like we’re working on a deadline here.” She turned on her heel, grabbed her jacket, and walked out the door.

---

Anthony didn’t like that they weren’t talking. Granted, it had only been a day and a half, but it was rare that he and Maja went that long without FaceTiming or calling each other, even when he was on a road trip. It just wasn’t something they did. And it also wasn’t like he had to think about his answer, about how serious he was about his relationship with Maja. It was one of the most important things in his life. But, just like the fight that had led him to this moment, pacing around in his kitchen with a rapidly burning piece of toast in the toaster, he was worried. Worried to talk to her, worried he’d seem like he was being pushy if he did, worried he’d seem like he didn’t care if he didn’t. He was tempted to call Mat, or even Jordan, but didn’t want the inevitable tongue-lashing that either was sure to give him. He knew he had to fix it, but he didn’t know how.

Anthony lay on his bed later that evening, his phone on speaker next to him, playing nervously with his hands. Sometimes, even though he was almost 24, there were things he just couldn’t go to his friends for. Mat was his best friend and he loved him, but he needed someone else for this. He needed his mom. “I know my flight’s supposed to leave in a few days, but Maman...I don’t know what to do. I don’t want to leave things like this.”

“Then you don’t,” his mom shot back over the phone, her French terse. “I raised you better than this, Anthony. You don’t leave the women you love unsure of where your relationship stands, where the two of you stand. You love her.” She said it more like a statement.

“More than anything,” he replied morosely.

“Then you stay, you go over and talk to her. And if that means you’re in New York for a few more days, then so be it. Your dad and I can wait. Québec will still be here when you’re done. What’s more important right now is Maja, and that you fix this.”

Anthony groaned, his head hitting the pillow. “You’re right.”

“What was that?” she replied, even though he knew she had heard him just fine.

“You’re right, Maman. It doesn’t matter if it wasn’t what I meant. I need to fix this.”

He could see her nodding on the other end of the line. “You do. Go to her.” She had barely hing up the phone before Anthony was frantically tugging on his shoes and stumbling out the door.

Anthony was outside of her door less than half an hour later; it would have been earlier, but New York traffic didn’t seem to care that it was past 10 PM. He knocked on her door frantically; he could have used his key, but it just didn’t feel right. He heard her pad down the hallway towards the living room. “I’m coming.” She opened the door, her mouth slightly agape when she saw who it was. “I thought you were maintenance. The bathroom faucet’s been leaky.”

The corner of his mouth twitched up. “At,” he checked his watch, “10:12 PM?”

Maja shrugged. “Night shift?” She stepped aside to let him in. “I’m guessing you want to talk.” Maja was intuitive; even more than that, though, she knew Anthony better than anyone. He didn’t like to let conflict sit, knowing it would only get worse with time. She walked over to her couch, gesturing for him to sit, her arms crossed. “So talk.”

“I wanted to say I’m sorry for what I said the other day, for making you feel insecure in our relationship and for letting you doubt how committed I am. You didn’t deserve that.”

“Do you get it, though?” Maja questioned. “Do you get why it hurt me so much?”

Anthony did. He knew he did, so why was it so hard to admit it? He settled for a stiff nod.

She sighed. “Because it made me feel like you weren’t as serious about us, our relationship, as I am. I read your cautioning me against moving with you if you ever got traded as you not wanting me to, which made me feel like you just had no interest in building a life with me, in taking the next step. And that’s what hurt so badly, because I knew the second you mentioned it that that’s something I’d do in a heartbeat for you.” Maya looked over his head, her fixing her eyes on a picture of Anthony from his first home game, trying to collect her words. “It seemed like you didn’t see us lasting, nothing long-term that would require those kinds of sacrifices and choices to be made. Almost like I had wasted my time, this past year and a half, on someone who couldn’t care less if I stayed or went.”

Anthony leaned forward, hesitantly reaching for her hands, wrapping his fingers around hers when she didn’t pull back. “I know how my words came out was wrong, and I take full responsibility for that. I shouldn’t have said it like that, but I think I did because I was worried, and didn’t want to assume you’d be willing to do something so drastic as move thousands of miles and potentially to a whole new country just because I asked you.”

“Relationships mean compromise and sacrifice,” Maja said. “And I didn’t think it was fair for me to feel like I was the only one doing either.”

“You weren’t,” Anthony shook his head. “You aren’t.”

“I never got what you meant about worrying about the distance,” Maja said. She scrunched her nose. “Okay, I take that back like halfway. I got what you were saying about it being hard. It would be, of course it would be. But it’s not like we haven’t done it before. You’re gone a couple times a month during the season, and then most of the summer in Québec apart from when I could get off work for a week or two. And sure, it was rough, but we got through it. So I heard you not wanting me to come with you, and me not seeing a need to stay here, and didn’t see where you saw us going. If you saw us going somewhere. That’s what hurt the most, I think.”

“Moving without ever having lived together just seemed like a big step. I didn’t want to push you into something you weren’t ready for, but I would have hated it just as much if suddenly you were off in a new state or country all alone in an apartment some place where you didn’t know anybody. It wouldn’t have been fair.”

Anthony had a point, Maja thought, as she moved her thumb back and forth over the back of his hand. “Have you thought about that, though? Things going forward, moving in together, all of that?”

He met her eyes, and now it was his time to stare at her like she had just asked the world’s most obvious question, like there was no possible parallel universe where she didn’t already know the answer. “Absolutely, Maja. I’ve thought about everything.”

“Everything?” she asked, her thumb stopping momentarily. “What’s everything?”

Anthony smiled softly at her, wrapping his arm around her waist and pulling her gently into his side. “Everything means everything. Moving in together. Getting a nice house in Garden City, or wherever we’ve settled by then. The day I finally get to put a ring on your finger,” he said, absentmindedly rubbing the fourth finger on her left hand. “Getting to wake up to your beautiful face every day, and never having to leave. Taking our kids to visit your grandparents in Japan, trying to figure out how to raise them trilingualy.”

“Really?” Maja laughed, a watery laugh filled with disbelief and hope and unfettered joy somehow bound into a single noise. “You’ve thought about that?”

“Of course I have,” he said simply.

“You said kids, so it’s going to be multiple?” Anthony hummed his agreement. “How many were you thinking?”

He tilted his head. “I like three. Seems like it’d work well. But that would obviously be up to you,” he chuckled. “Not like I’d be the pregnant one.”

Maja couldn’t remember the last time her heart felt this full. The way he spoke about their future — the house and the wedding and the kids — so easily and freely made Mja nearly positive that it had been something he had been thinking about for a while. “Three sounds good.”

---

5 years, $20 mil, the text read. Anthony didn’t really care that he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, not until they made the news official. But he had to tell Maja, tell her they were staying out, had to let her breathe a little easier and stop worrying about having to type up a two week’s notice and figure out how to apply for a Canadian visa. He knew he wasn’t supposed to tell anyone, but Maja was more important than that, and she deserved to know, and if that got him a slap on the wrist from the team, then so be it. He looked down at his watch; it was half past 5, so Maja was on the subway back to her apartment if she hadn’t already arrived. He hung a U-turn, changing directions from his place to hers. This wasn’t something he wanted to wait for. It didn’t take him long to pull into the visitor’s parking at her apartment building, muscle memory guiding him into the elevator and up to the third floor.

“Coming!” Maja said as he knocked on the door. She flung her arms around him as the door swung open, her toes barely touching the floor. “I’m so proud of you, love,” she whispered into his shoulder, her voice muffled by his sweater. Stepping aside, she let him into her living room, where he was greeted by a counter filled with take-out containers. “I might have assumed you’d come by,” Maja admitted, “so I went out to that Indian place you like and picked up some stuff. Figured you’d be hungry.”

He wrapped his arms around her waist from behind as she spooned out the rice and butter chicken. “Thank you,” he said, pressing a kiss against her cheek. “You’re always one step ahead.” Dinner was a quiet affair, Anthony cleaning up their plates and putting the leftovers in the fridge before joining Maja on the couch, her back pressed up against his chest as the Good Place played on the TV.

“I really am proud of you, you know,” she said softly, twisting her head to look up at him. “I know it’s something you worked really hard for and were worried about, and I’m so glad it worked out for you.”

He squeezed her thigh in appreciation. “Thanks, babe. And again, I’m sorry about how I told you, how I interpreted everything and spoke too soon. It wasn’t fair to me and it wasn’t fair to you.”

“Don’t keep beating yourself up about it,” Maja said. “You’re right that it wasn’t a good move, but you apologized and took responsibility for it, and that’s what really matters. As long as you weren’t just trying to butter me up when you talked about the future.”

Anthony knew it was tongue-in-cheek and that she was teasing him, if the half-smirk on her face was anything to go by, but he shook his head all the same. “Of course it wasn’t. I meant every word.” They sat in silence for a few minutes before he spoke again. “Don’t resign your lease.” He knew that she had almost a month until she had to give the papers to her landlord, but she’d also been toying around with the idea of moving to a place a little closer to her work.

Maja looked up at him in surprise, her eyes wide. “Don’t resign my lease?”

He nodded. “Move in with me, I can fly down for a few days to help whenever you decide you want to. Move in with me, let’s start that future now.” If he was being honest, it had been something Anthony had been thinking about for months. He just finally got the courage to ask.

“When can I start?”

#hockey imagine #anthony beauvillier #hockey smut #nhl imagine #hockey imagines #hockey writing #nhl imagines #nhl smut #nhl writing #nhl #New York Islanders #anthony beauvillier the business major #anthony beauvillier imagine #anthony beauvillier writing

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supersilversleuth · 3 years

Text

To Kill, To Die, or, To Live by SuperSilverSpy

Fandoms:DCU, DCU (Comics), Batman - All Media Types

Rating: Teen and Up Audiences

Category: Gen

Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Dick Grayson & Jason Todd, Dick Grayson, Jason Todd, Hurt Dick Grayson, Dick Grayson-centric, Dick Grayson Whump, Whump, Dick Grayson Needs a Hug, I have used these tags so much lately, I could probably write them in my sleep, Hurt No Comfort, maybe? - Freeform, I don’t remember writing any comfort…, Hurt, Angst, Jason Todd is a good bro, usually, sometimes?, idk - Freeform, he wants to be a good bro in this fic, Possession, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Whumptober 2021, SuperSilverSpy, SilverGrayson

Summary:

Red Hood showed up in the Batcave after helping out with a quick op one night. Everyone seemed to be looking at him with distrust and suspicion, even though he’d just helped them out. Everyone except Dick, of course, who offered him a tight smile, but whose expression was otherwise unreadable.

Kill kill kill...Dick Grayson shall die...

“What? Why the oh so serious faces?” Jason’s voice drawled.

OR Jason wakes up one morning, and there’s a voice in his head screaming for the death of one Dick Grayson

No. 4 - TRUST FALL “Do you trust me?” | taken hostage | pushed

Published: 2021-10-04 Completed:2021-10-04 Words: 3091 Chapters: 3/3

Chapter One: To Kill

It happened out of the blue one day.

Jason woke in a cold sweat, but he didn’t immediately sit up in bed. In fact, he didn’t move at all. He just stared up at his ceiling, a single thought running through his head, a single emotion coursing through his veins.

Dick Grayson must die.

Distantly, a part of him felt appalled at the notion, but most of him was running with it. Anger clouded his mind but it was unlike any he’d ever felt before. It was different, colder somehow, not like the usual searing heat of pit madness.

He heard a new voice in his head spewing insults about the Golden Boy left and right. Some felt familiar, as if taken from Jason’s own mind. Most of them were new, and he did his best to ignore the most unsavory ones.

He didn’t actually hate Dickface, did he? N—

Jason sat up, and began preparing for the day ahead of him. Put bread in the toaster, remember the meetings he has with several of his informants— Dick Grayson deserves to die— now that didn’t sound right…what was he thinking about again? Put butter on the toast when it’s done, start eating, think about that case that’s been stumping him lately— take Nightwing hostage —what was that? He does have a pretty busy nightlife… Do the morning’s dishes, brush his teeth, get dressed. He had a drug ring to bust tonight, that’s right. Some scumbags needed a little visit from the esteemed crime lord Red Hood— kill them all— what? N—

Jason went through the rest of his day in a haze. He met with some informants, gave food to some people on the streets. He got everything done quickly and efficiently, he even managed to make time to buy groceries. With every interaction, he acted just like he normally would. His movements were comfortable, voice at just the right level to suit each situation. People seemed easily swayed by him, to do as he asked. And yet...he felt detached somehow, as if watching through someone else’s eyes—someone who acted exactly like him.

He couldn’t bring himself to do anything about it though, couldn’t open his mouth and say something out of character, or just talk to himself when no one was in sight. Distantly, a part of him felt alarmed, something was just off.

Still, he made it through the day just fine. Whatever had been bothering him earlier that morning seemed to fade, and he started to feel as if nothing had changed. And nothing had, right? He didn’t remember anything different between today and yesterday…

Night came, and the Red Hood went out to save the day, or at least crash some a**hats’ day, he wasn’t picky. Everything went to plan too, which made him elated. The bats could say all they wanted about him, but no one could deny his clear skill and competency.

Everything was going well, the drug traffickers were all passed out on the ground and Jason was getting ready to call the police, when it happened.

His thumb withdrew from the call button, burner phone slipping back into his pocket. His hands went instead to his guns, and he felt his body turning, moving towards the unconscious bodies of some of the worst that he’d taken down. Kill. Kill. Kill. Chanted that new voice in his head. Kill them all, they deserve it. Just like Dick Grayson.

What? N—No, that didn’t make sense. Why was—Why was his hand still moving? What was his finger doing on the trigger? Jason didn’t understand. I don’t want to kill them, he thought. He pushed against that voice, that—that presence in his head.

It pushed back .

Jason was left scrambling internally, as he watched his own arm lift and aim. A body lay on the ground, motionless where splashes of crimson decorated the floor.

Jason felt as if he’d been booted out of his own body, like his actions weren’t his to control anymore. He felt sick, but no bile would rise in his throat. No feeling would stir in his stomach. He didn’t understand.

Two bodies, on the ground, it was like he was seeing double, than triple, then several many more. He started to lose count. At one point, he noticed there was a knife in his hand, that his face was twisted in an expression of satisfaction. His hands were covered in blood, and so were his pants. He’d have a hard time washing that out, Jason realized distantly. Death here, death there, death death everywhere, said the voice in his head. He knew he was feeling things, actual emotions. But they didn’t really seem to be there . They were foreign, unfamiliar, not his own. Jason could think of all the synonyms he knew to describe just how out of place the anger and the bloodlust and the malicious satisfaction felt. How out of place he himself felt. Kicked out of his own mind, out of control of his own body.

Even with past experiences in mind control and mind-twisting pits of torture, this still was like nothing he had ever felt before.

—

Jason didn’t know what day it was, what was happening, he just couldn’t tell. He couldn’t seem to keep track . It had been like this ever since the massacre, since he’d fought and lost the battle in his own mind.

Kill kill kill...Dick Grayson shall die...

“What? Why the oh so serious faces?” Jason’s voice drawled.

“Those drug traffickers on Monday,” began the big bat himself. Jason’s hand waved as if to wipe it all away. “Lay off it, B. I promise it wasn’t me, alright? I left before whoever murdered them all showed up.” The Replacement was frowning at him, and the Demon brat was scowling his way as well. Bruce thinned his lips, looking at him in that insufferable judgmental way he had. Jason felt himself scoffing, “I don’t owe you fools anything. ”

Please, he thought, this isn’t me. Please, I know it sounds like me but I swear it isn’t. His body went straight for his motorcycle, hopping on and driving away with the squealing of tires.

There are TWO POSSIBLE ENDINGS, the first one is Major Character Death, the second is “everybody lives”

Read the next chapter for tragedy, read the chapter after that for somewhat happy ending

Chapter Two: To Die

“Hey Jay? You alright?”

The prey has fallen into the trap...

Jason felt his head swivel in Dick’s direction, “What are you doing here, Dickface?”

“I don’t know, you just seemed to be acting a little off yesterday. I was just wondering if—”

“I’m fine.” Jason’s voice growled. “And I didn’t kill those people. So there’s nothing for you to report back to ol’ daddy bats up there on his high horse.” Dick scowled briefly, but then his expression smoothed. “I’m not here to spy on you, Jay. And I know it wasn’t you who killed those people.” His brother looked at him steadily, right in the eyes. No! Dick, you have to get away from me, he wants to kill y —

“It wasn’t you,” continued Dick, “It was whatever's controlling you.”

For a moment, Jason panicked. But whoever it was in his head let up quite a bit, and Jason suddenly felt lighter than air. It was like the first taste of water after days in the desert. Like he could finally breathe after an eternity of going without.

“Wha—” Jason stumbled, knees feeling weak. Dick rushed forward, catching him as he fell. “No...N—No, Dick, you can’t be here. ‘m a killer, that thing in my head, it—it wants to—”

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m here.” His hand carded through Jason’s hair. “We’ll figure this out, okay? We’ll figure this out.”

“It…it seems to have left me.” Jason said, voice trembling in awe as he flexed his fingers. It’d been so long…

—

Dick smiled down at his brother.

“It’s okay, Jay.” He said, “It must’ve fled when it realized I knew it was there.”

“How…how did you know, anyways?” Jason asked.

“I just…I had a feeling. You were acting off, and that look in your eye…”

“Thanks, Dick,” his little brother replied, but then his voice changed, sounding almost…fearful? “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” He asked, straining his ears, “I don’t—”

There was a loud roar and the sound of large, stomping feet. Dick frantically looked around, noticing as shadows creeped in from underneath the door. The air was charged with magic, power flowing throughout the room.

“It’s back,” whispered Jason, clutching Dick’s arm, “we should run.”

“Yeah,” Dick said, as if in a daze, “let’s go.”

It seemed so surreal, the supernatural monsters bursting through the door. Dick wasn’t sure what surprised him so much about it, he dealt with this kind of thing every other day. It’s just…

“Dickie,” said Jason, pulling him towards the window. “Snap out of it, they’re gaining on us.”

He shook his head, looking back—and yeah, the strange magical creatures were right behind them.

Jason jumped through the window, Dick following closely behind. They fired their grappling guns, arriving on the roof opposite in what felt like the blink of an eye.

“Hurry,” said a voice and—oh, it was Jason. It was coming out of Jason’s mouth, right? It must be Jason’s. “We should go that way.”

Dick looked his little brother in the eyes, grounding himself there, before following Jason’s lead as they ran across rooftops.

Dick felt like he was doing everything underwater, but it was…nice. Pretty great actually. He barely even noticed the burn in his legs, or how the monsters chasing them had odd-looking shadows.

Each time he looked back, all he saw was claws and teeth. Masses of fur and strange golden markings.

They paused for breath a few blocks away.

Dick wondered at Jason’s plan. It felt like there was something he should be doing…“Jay? What should we do? Where do we go?”

“That thing in my head seemed afraid of tall places…”

“The—The Wayne Enterprises building.” Dick replied almost immediately.

“Of course,” said Jason, bumping him with his shoulder, “How about a race?”

Dick grinned back at him, “Sure, why not.”

Adrenaline flooded his veins, and for a moment, he almost forgot about the monsters chasing them.

Jason nodded to him, and then they took off, running and jumping, grappling all across the city, heading for the tallest building around. Dick pressed himself to go faster, run harder, jump stronger .

He could see Jason out of the corner of his eye, also going considerably fast.

Jason wasn’t the only one Dick noticed, he also spotted several of them on Jason’s tail. The monsters seemed to move just as fast as they did. He could only hope his little brother could go fast enough to outrun them.

Dick reached the WE building first, skidding to a stop on the roof. Jason arrived soon after.

The monsters gathered a roof away, preparing to jump.

“I—I don’t understand, I thought you said they wouldn't follow us up here.” Dick looked at Jason, searching for answers in his expression.

His little brother’s features were soft, his eyes glittered with something strange and otherworldly. His voice was smooth and heavy with something familiar… “It’s okay, I have a plan, but there’s no time. Dick, do you trust me?”

“Of course I trust you, Little Wing.”

Darkness creeped up along the edges of the building, sliding onto the roof. Claws scraped against the ground, glowing gold eyes began to surround them. There was a single opening, a small bit of edge that had nothing on it.

Jason smiled, grabbing Dick’s grapple gun. And then pushed him off the roof.

Dick Grayson fell over 1,000 feet to the ground, all the while believing his brother would catch him.

Above, on the roof of Wayne Tower, Jason Todd’s eyes flashed gold.

Chapter Three: To Live

“Hey Jay? You alright?”

The prey has fallen into the trap...

Jason felt his head swivel in Dick’s direction, “What are you doing here, Dickface?”

“I don’t know, you just seemed to be acting a little off yesterday. I was just wondering if—”

“It wasn’t you,” continued Dick, “It was whatever's controlling you.”

“Wha—” Jason stumbled, knees feeling weak. Dick rushed forward, catching him as he fell. “No...N—No, Dick, you can’t be here. ‘m a killer, that thing in my head, it—it wants to—”

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m here.” His hand carded through Jason’s hair. “This thing is here to test me Jay, I didn’t have a choice. I know you didn’t either, and I am so, so sorry for that Little Wing. We’ll figure this out, okay? We’ll figure this out.”

Jason opened his mouth to reply, when suddenly the presence was back, the voice along with it. Jason could feel his consciousness collapsing back, dissociating once again. He vaguely registered as one of his hidden daggers was swiftly drawn, and pressed harshly against Dick’s neck.

“Do you trust me?” asked Jason’s voice, a smirk spread across his face.

The question was meant to be mocking, but Dick answered seriously, “Of course, I know you’re still in there, Jay. I trust you.”

—

They stood on the roof of the WE building. Whoever was controlling Jason had used his strength to give Dick a good beating, and sent a picture of the aftermath to the bats. It was only a matter of time before they showed.

“One as special as Dick Grayson, must be able to trust at least one member of his family. Jason Todd is least likely to accept this trust, which makes my job so much easier. I look forward to his death,” said Jason’s voice while they waited.

Dick, all tied up, sporting a black eye and what were likely bruised ribs—grinned like a maniac. “I recognized your presence, didn’t I? I could tell there was something off with him, you nasty little f***er. You may think you chose your victim well, but you’re making a big mistake—Jay will pull through for me, and you will be torn away as if it were nothing.”

Wow, Dick just sounded so—so confident in Jason’s ability to do whatever it was he was supposed to do. Jason wasn’t sure he’d be able to overpower this thing, let alone destroy it.

“The rest of your so-called family will arrive any minute now, will you weep at their demise?”

Dick scowled, “The rules that you are bound to state that you can’t kill any of my loved ones before me.”

“I may not be able to kill them, but I’ve been doing this awhile, and I know all the loopholes to this little game.”

Behind them, the bats touched down on the roof. Jason felt himself turn to face them. It seemed that Bruce, Tim, Damian, and Steph all showed up for the party.

“Here to save your favorite Golden child?”

“What do you want?” Demanded Bruce, stoic as ever.

They never cared about you , none of them do. Hissed the voice in his head. Nobody trusts you

Nobody trusts you , Jason thought back at it, you murderous lying b****** .

It chuckled, ah, but it is not my face I’m wearing. It’s your's.

Outloud, Jason’s voice addressed the bats, “This is the price you pay for not trusting me, for letting Dick down. You didn’t even notice there was something different about him, did you? You didn’t even notice when Jason Todd was no longer Jason Todd.”

Bruce and Dick were the only ones who didn’t look confused at the words. Dick, because he seemed to know what was going on, and Bruce, because he was, well, Bruce. Batman’s face was as stoic as ever.

Jason felt his face twist into something surely ugly and murderous-looking.

Power surged through him, coming from seemingly nowhere. But Jason could feel it at his fingertips, being pushed into him and pulled out, he had no control over its course. The air around him became charged with magic, and then the bats were engulfed in a bright, golden light.

A moment later, Jason's eyes opened to find that all four of them were frozen in various positions and turned into a shiny golden color, standing still like statues.

The look of horror on Dick’s face hurt to look at, when Jason felt himself turn back to the man.

Quickly, Dick’s expression turned to that of anger, “What did you do to them?” he seethed. “Turn them back!”

“It’s too late, Dick Grayson. Once you are dead, your family will remain this way forever.”

Jason’s arms reached out, grabbing Dick and picking him up.

His feet took him to the edge of the roof, holding Dick out over the ground far, far below.

“J—Jay, listen to me, you can fight this. I know you can. You’re still in there, I believe in you.”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Jason watched as he dropped his brother over the edge.

Time seemed to stop.

No! He thought, pushing back as hard as he could against that malicious presence in his mind. Jason pictured Dick’s face, looking at him sincerely, a bead of blood forming where Jason’s own knife grazed his throat. “I trust you ,” he’d said.

Jason followed him over the edge before he even knew what he was doing. Shooting out his grapple instinctively, cutting through the air rapidly as he fell.

This is going to hurt , he thought, as he set himself on a collision course with Dick, but I think we’ll live.

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anotherhumanpet · 2 years

Note

On Dennis's porch was a rather suspicious looking package. It was blank, no address or even receiver listed on the front. Inside was a tape that simply had Dennis written on the label

When Dennis comes home and sees the mysterious package left by his front door, he regards it with mild confusion and curiosity at first. He couldn't remember ordering anything online to justify its presence, and his father was generally pretty good about telling Dennis when he was expecting something so Dennis could pick it up on his behalf. But maybe his dad forgot this time, which was no big deal. The package still arrived and he was here to pick it up now. But when Dennis turns it over to confirm the label has the right name and address on it he finds nothing, which confuses him even further. Feeling unsure of himself, he glances around the block in search of something that might explain what's going on and once again finds nothing. There’s no people, no familiar crappy looking Kias; just an empty, quiet neighborhood.

Dennis frowns and turns his attention back to the package, giving it a few explorative squeezes to feel what might be inside before taking the risk of opening it up. As the tape falls into his hand, bearing nothing but his name on it, his frown deepens and he fishes out his phone to call Judas on the unblocked burner phone. There was a VHS player buried somewhere in the garage, while Dennis was sure he could struggle-bus his way through getting it set up and connected to a TV, he thought it might be a lot easier to get Judas to help him out. It’d be a fun excuse for them to hang out anyway - if the jerk would pick up the phone. “C’mon, Judy...” Dennis sighs as he gives up on the burner phone and tries Judas’ real number, the serious one. Part of him feelings guilty for calling it over something so trivial but he also figures Judas will forgive him for any scares the call might cause if he offers to buy him some DoorDash. When Judas still doesn’t answer him though, a knot twists itself in Dennis’ stomach.

Something was wrong. He didn’t know what - and it could have been anything, maybe even unrelated to Judas - but deep down Dennis knew that something was amiss and hurried to get inside his house and set up the VHS player.

It takes him longer than he likes to, to get it done, and his anxiety is racking him over the coals for it, but once Dennis has the VHS player set up he slides the tape inside without a moment’s hesitation and starts to play it. Then, when he sees Achim on the screen throwing Judas into a chair and mocking him, Dennis’ heart leaps up into his throat. “Oh God,“ he whimpers while the two of them converse (if it could really be described as that) and flinches when Achim initially strikes Judas down with a pistol. Then, when Achim starts growing bone quills, Dennis closes his eyes and covers his eyes in anticipation for the screaming he knows Judas will make when they inevitably strike him. It isn’t enough to completely drown him out though, and Dennis hates himself for cowering away at the noise. He can’t bear to watch it though, finding gory horror films to be too much as they are and the real thing unthinkably horrible to witness. But part of him feels like he should watch Judas’ suffering, as though it’ll help or bring Judas some kind of comfort in some way. When Achim starts dragging Judas by his hair and makes him cry out once again though, Dennis scrambles to get back to the controls and frantically presses at all the buttons to make it stop. The tape winds up fast-forwarding, which is only slightly marginally better than playing in real time but not by much. Dennis still bears witness to Achim throwing Judas against one cage before throwing him into another before the video cuts to black and a series of numbers appear on the screen. It takes Dennis a minute to realize that they’re coordinates and another knot ties itself into his stomach.

Dennis is only fifteen, but he's familiar with the art of war. He knows that Achim only started attacking him to get to Gramps, and he knows now that Achim is attacking Judas to get to Dennis, more than likely hoping to scare the kid into running to Gramps for help. In doing so, one of two things was supposed to happen: Gramps would either engage Achim in combat while attempting some kind of rescue mission, or he would leave Judas to his fate and inadvertently drive a wedge between himself and Dennis. It was a cruel, but smart, tactic.

Dennis refused to play into Achim’s hand though. He’s scared, like Achim wants him to be, but he isn’t going to play into his hand either. He refuses to be a puppet in the war any longer.

Snapping a photo of the coordinates, Dennis races back into the garage to grab the old, dusty, aluminum baseball bat he hasn’t touched in years and get on his bike. Online mapping tells him that the location Achim pinged is off quite a ways from his house, but it was reachable. It’d be a long journey by pedal-bike.

Hopefully Dennis will have stopped shaking by the time he gets there.

#monsterorman #codenamejudas #ask #event; war never changes

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genyathefirebird · 4 years

Text

on a steady march through time

read here or on ao3

Not long after London, Andy tells her that time stretches out for them, that she'll end up marking it differently.

Nile doesn't really understand it, and lets it slide to the back of her thoughts as she begins to get used to her new life. She wakes up one day and Joe passes over an envelope to her from the sheath of junk mail scooped up in his hands, “From Copley.”

The freelancer is true to his word and sends a copy of the letter delivered to her family reporting that Nile Freeman was killed in action. She carries it with her for a few weeks, tucked in her jacket pocket, until it feels a little lighter as they circle back around to Andy’s cave. She puts it in a plastic tupperware box and leaves it beside the Rodin statue and a trunk full of old swords.

She dithers a few times later that night, and then buys herself a burner phone, walking back to the hotel slowly while counting off the time difference on her fingers.

Then she calls home for the last time, a deal to herself and a silent promise to her mom. The line rings twice, thrice, and then is picked up. “Hello? Hello...who is this? You’ve called the Freeman’s, who's there?”

Nile breathes in sharply, trying to fix the sound of her voice in her mind, and comes to a dead stop in the middle of the empty street.

“Hello?”

She bites her lip, forcing herself to stay quiet.

“Alright, I’m hanging up now.”

There’s a click and then the dial tone blares in her ear, and there’s a hundred, thousand things that she knows she wants to say but she can’t. In the end, she holds the phone between her hands and whispers, “Night mom.”

Nile gets her chance to breach first the next mission, and then again and again. Each time Andy follows, with a bulletproof vest on and her axe swinging powerfully, aim as straight and true as if she’s the dictionary definition of it. Nile had to argue hard for her to wear the vest, because for all the when it's time, it's time talk, Nile isn't quite ready to let her go.

Not so soon. It wouldn't be fair.

After all, there's a patchwork of good that Andy's left behind her, and Nile wants to hear in her own words, from the memories she has. There's a lot to learn from it all, and she wants to listen to tale after tale; São Paulo, Murmansk, Yunnan, Brisbane, Luzhi, Sarajevo, Mosul, Constantinople, and try to really get to the what - what do you do now?, which would lead her through the fog.

But the time comes and Andy lies on the ground with a smile, hands resting lightly on her front over the wound that won't stop bleeding, having given her vest to the girl in the last room they cleared who was shaking so hard that she couldn't stand.

"Take it." Andy had told her, unclipping it and holding it out, "You'll be safe with it on. I promise."

The girl's hand reached out to cling onto it, and then she finally allowed Nicky to drop it over her head, before taking his hand and following him and Joe out. Nile had wanted Andy to go with them, but she had been adamant to stay and clear the final room, just in case anyone of the other girls had been separated from the main group.

It had been a stray shot, one Nile couldn't block with her own body, and it hit Andy right in the centre of her chest. With her own heart in her throat, and bullets plinking out onto the floor from her own side, Nile quickly pulls Andy out, dragging her back to safety and the boys had arrived not long after.

"You hang in there." Nile presses down frantically on the bullet hole, feeling the thudding of Andy’s heart quieten under her hands.

"It's time." She says, gasping out around the words before letting a smile settle onto her face. "Peace."

Grief is a funny thing, it swallows her whole in a way she doesn't expect it to, not from knowing someone so briefly. Nile takes it as it comes and throws herself into the work.

Copley continues to send them around the world, a helping hand or fist wherever they need to be. They drop into impossible situations and walk out alive, bloody and bleeding and healing.

When she gets some downtime, Nile takes the axe down to the cave. She puts it down in the trunk before emptying out her pockets of a meagre few belongings that Andy had carried around with her; a necklace, her earrings, two rings and a small wallet that contained some old photographs that had been scanned and rescanned again over the years.

They carry on, the years pass.

Her face doesn't change but she feels herself grow in different ways. No matter how she wears her hair, or experiments with make up or new fashion trends, underneath it all there were some unchangeable things, the things that made her Nile.

She walks in her own footsteps, returns home in the only way she can. Hovering like a ghost in the alley opposite the church, Nile watches her brother walk out with his wife, arms looped together and the brightest smiles on their faces.

Her mother's face is wet with tears, her smile never wavering, and there's multicoloured confetti raining down on everyone as they pile out of the church behind the happy couple, hugs and handshakes abound as the photographer documents every happy second unfolding.

From where Nile stands, her brother looks older. The laughter lines are deep today, and there's a touch of grey at the temples, just natural ageing, nothing noting old age just yet, but still makes her self-conscious enough to touch her own face and wipe away her own happy tears.

Her mother passes.

It's a cool autumn morning as she's laid to rest in the same plot as her father and Nile watches the graveside service from as close as she can.

Which is a parked car on the opposite side of the road with a pair of binoculars.

It doesn't hurt as much as she thought it would, which makes her feel even more like a ghost.

It hurts more.

The mourners leave slowly, her brother and his family; his wife, son, and daughter, leave last. More than anything, Nile wishes she could walk up and embrace him, rest her cheek against his shoulder and feel the comfort that only her family could offer. She can't remember their last conversation anymore, only the smile on his face as she had ended the video call.

What I wouldn't give to speak to you again, she thinks as she watches them get into their car and head home.

But she can't, and it hurts more than any broken bone or cut she's suffered over the past few years.

She waits until it's dark and then walks down to the grave. She's walked across the world in these boots, only to come back to Chicago. The smell of overturned earth is strong, and the drizzle from earlier on means that her boots squelch into the soft mud, leaving imprints as she steps close to her mother's final resting space. She walks there unarmed having left her gun and knives in the car, wanting to feel like her old self for a few minutes.

A handful of damp dirt falls through the air. "I miss you mom. I love you so much."

She presses a kiss to each of her parents' headstones and then walks away.

Eventually she returns to the cave and leaves behind her old dog tags and a scrap book filled with photos that she had taken off her phone, the last pieces of her old life that she could finally lay to rest.

Her mother and brother, standing with big smiles, arms looped around each other.

Her father standing proud in his dress uniform.

Her family at her graduation meal, caught between laughter and conversation.

Her friends after shipping out for the first time, sunburned with dusty fatigues, relaxing under the harsh, foreign midday sun.

Andy, Nicky, and Joe caught from a doorway with a disposable camera, slumped on the sofas, tired but for once not from fighting.

"You're lucky, you know." Nicky tells her, watching as she heaved the plastic box down onto a mostly flat surface. The thump echoes loudly off every single rock in the cave. "You get to keep their faces, I've forgotten my family."

"Small blessings." She quips back, hand lingering on the lid before she steps away.

Copley retires.

But not before passing on the mantle to two bright-eyed, bushy-tailed recruits. She visits his home to meet them in person, curious to see who he's handpicked as his replacements.

Nile sits opposite, scrutinising the two of them. One is a ginger haired boy plucked fresh from university, and the other a young girl straight from the streets around Shanghai's super-port. "So, you're a librarian. And you are…?"

"I mean, a digital archivist. There's hardly any libraries around, like there would have been in your time."

The girl grins, but she’s not blinking properly, too transfixed by Nile’s presence. "And I'm a fielder, my specialities in linguistics."

"What do you know, so far?" Nile asks, turning to the girl and watching as she wiped her rough hands on her trousers.

"That you saw the millennium in. That you won't die properly for a really long time. That you will depend on us, to erase any footprint of you and arrange things so you can do your job...to help people."

Copley nods, and sends them off, but not before the boy stands and steps forwards. "It's an honour to work with you."

Nile nods back and lets them go, and Copley takes her down to the kitchen to fix them up some tea. "I see that look in your eye. I didn't put words into his mouth. They’re just eager to help."

"You have a good memory."

He sees her hesitation, "They're good. I trust them."

"I don't doubt you. It's just...they're young." She finds herself surprised at her own surprise, but less so when he laughs, shoulders shaking violently.

It takes him a moment to compose himself again, wiping a stray tear from the corner of his eye. "They'll do their best."

She's lost for a moment, suddenly feeling the future rolling out in front of them, this baton of protection for their small group being handed forwards across the years. It makes her heart clench, not with fear, but with something she's still not managed to give a name to. Maybe Andy did, maybe the others have.

Nile makes it a point to remember and ask the next time they're together and turns her attention back to the present.

"You did, Copley."

After that, it feels like a new era and Nile spends the next three decades in Europe when she's not on a mission, flitting from country to country to country and then back again.

Nicky and Joe make it a point to cross paths with her every now and again, stopping for Carnival in Venice, taking her on a road trip across Portugal's lush coastline, hiring out a boat to sail around Croatia's sun drenched islands. They show her all the safe houses, and she practises her newly learnt Greek, Latin, and Sumerian with them, lapsing back into a more casual French or Mandarin to trade jokes.

In his twilight years, Copley still gets in touch every so often, sending her snippets of things he's come across his ever-continuing research; a photograph of Andy in a crowd at the turn of a century, a suspected sighting of Joe in an old film reel, a likeness of Nicky in an artist's sketchbook.

It strikes her deeply when he sends a scan of a diary fragment in a memoir that matches Andy's description all too well recounted from a grandparent's bedtime story.

History is littered with their silent mentions. Whatever price it had demanded from them, or whatever it had taken from Andy and the others, it still kept fragments that would linger on, long after she was gone.

Not long before his death, Copley sends through a link to a news story about a scientist who had discovered the solution to a mathematical problem that had stumped generations. Attached to the message Copley had written a note, remember Basra?

Nile draws the image closer, zooming into the face of the women accepting a shiny glass award. There was something around the eyes that reminded her of a man she had pulled out from the rubble of a collapsed building.

Two or three generations down the line, she hears the words echo in her memories, and briefly wonders if he's continued on with the wall detailing their adventures and misadventures in some shape or form.

If he has, she's glad to have a small corner on it.

A century turns.

The four of them return to the pebble beach. It's quiet, like the silence before dawn or before a flash bang is thrown across the line. There's a full hundred years between them and his betrayal, of time spent stewing and regretting and learning to forgive.

Joe and Nicky greet Booker first, slow approaches but old familiar phrases. It's like walking over ice, slowly but surely, and the three test to see if their bond is still as strong or if it’s still snarled up in recent history. Nile hangs back and smiles to herself, glad that there's a way back for him. Then she follows them up the ramp to a small bar tucked away on the second floor of a high rise overlooking the water.

They drink long into the evening catching each other up on the time passed, and then it’s just Nile and Booker nursing their whisky as the other two call it a night. He looks at her over the top of his glass, dark eyes a little hazy with the drink and chuckles, "Last time I was on that beach, Andy said that you would have let me off with an apology."

"Yeah, it would have had to have been a good one."

"I don't buy it. Even you could see what I had done."

Her answer was plain, because even after all this time, she could recall his exact words, almost feel the horror of his loneliness even if she didn't fully comprehend it at the time. The words had stuck to her or maybe she had stuck to them in the time that passed, something so formative about the betrayal and the fight to remain free. "I remember what you said, in the church. About how you watched the people you love die. About how it hurt to see their deaths and not be able to help."

"That's an awful lot of empathy for an infant." There's sourness in his low voice, but no bite, so she lets it slide.

"Maybe...you're just too old, and it all comes full circle."

"Maybe." Booker repeats before tipping his glass at her and then downs the rest of the drink. "But you've got a fraction of the understanding now. You won't know how it feels like, until you do."

"I guess, I understood enough back then. Anyway, they're older. You're the infant to them.

“Well, a hundred years has been a while. I've had some time to think."

"Has it done any good?"

"I know I'm not like Andy, I can't see it the same way she could, in the end. I wanted my time to come around a long time ago. I'm trapped, cursed, overstayed my welcome, whichever way you want to call it." Booker waves his hand at the waiter, silently asking for a top up before sighing heavily and leaning back, trying his damndest to look nonchalant.

"No, that's true. But doesn't it mean there's hope?" Nile lays her hands flat on the table, feeling the warmth in her palms reflect back off the wood, but it does little to ground her. Somehow the perspective shifts in her head, like a rolling stone rolling right off the edge of the earth.

She shakes her head, "So what are you going to do now?"

Booker leans across the table, folding forwards like all his years had piled themselves on top of his shoulders. "There was something."

Later, Nile thinks it's the whiskey that must have to his brain for him to have gone so still, having sunk down glass after glass at twice the rate.

"She saw something in you, at the start." Booker says, switching track and then stares back, blinking dumbly. "I wouldn't mind sticking around if you're looking for an extra pair of hands."

She sees the desperation in his eyes, of wanting to have purpose again, of daring to hope, of belonging in their odd family again, and so she does what she thinks Andy would have done, and reaches a hand out across the table and the lost years; no man left behind.

"We'll be leaving tomorrow morning, if you're willing to fly with a hangover."

The years pass quickly, then slowly.

Her faith waxes and wanes.

Her favourite songs become classical music and her favourite clothes belong in a museum.

Battles break her every limb, and she bleeds out in the desert, drowns in an ocean, falls off a cliff and is captured in war.

Humans fight pointlessly, and she follows her family into the flames, holding her gun and sword high. There are small wars and great wars, wars that finish brutally, and one that seems to drag on endlessly until she thinks she could be done with it all.

"It'll pass, it always does." Joe tells her, crouched a bunker. The surety in his voice is of little comfort to her until reality catches up with his words half a decade later.

Scientific breakthroughs, human persistence, and curiosity still leave her in awe. There is always a new frontier to breach, and space beckons the brightest and boldest to adventure on. Technology becomes a double-edged sword, capable of miracles they could never imagine, yet the threat of becoming known only grows with every passing decade.

Nile travels on earth, one foot behind another, allowing the current to take her, until it suddenly doesn't.

Until it feels like the world has stopped turning and time has frozen, until it was all compacted in a heartbeat of a moment that makes her question everything.

Until love creeps up on her.

It captures her heart, breathes life into it in a way she thinks it might just burst.

And then it leaves her, just as she knew it would.

She had told herself from the start not to regret it, warned herself in every fashion, tries to guard against the inevitable pain.

Eventually she learns not to.

Nile stops by the New Orleans safe house to pick up her new papers. Technically things had moved on since passports and photo cards, but the word was still rooted deep in her head even as she turned over the glossy black ID band and slipped it onto her wrist.

"It's all set up and ready to go. Just need your fingerprint here, and here."

She follows the instructions, eyeing the young man with the nervous foot tapping habit as he registers her biometrics onto the global database, a new shadow for an old soul, Booker had laughed over the comms line.

"That's swell."

"Swell?"

"Isn't that what people used to say?"

"Before my time."

"Oh."

She caught how his face fell before he turned away, fumbling with his own embarrassment. "But try it out on Nicky."

They dream of a new one.

She's small, with bird bone wrists and screams until her vocal cords rip as she falls, and falls, and lands and dies, and then breathes.

She's a fighter and wastes no time in picking herself back up and walking back into a burning building to rescue her family and neighbours.

One by one, she hauls them out, skin blistering and burning and healing over and over. Then she turns and runs, unable to look at the dent in the pavement she had left behind upon impact.

Nicky finds her first, and Nile arrives within the hour to see Joe talking her through the basics. Booker takes a land train and arrives the next morning, and then there's five of them in total, after so long.

It's two weeks later when Joe pulls her along for a late-night walk and when they sit on a bench, shoulder to shoulder, he pulls out a knife and rests it on his thigh. "I haven't stopped thinking about it, since I dreamt of her."

He swallows nervously, "I haven't said anything to Nicky, how could I? But when we dreamed of you, that was when Andy…"

"And you're the oldest."

He nods slowly, and speaks slower. "I'm the oldest now."

"It might not mean anything. So, Aish is here." Nile shrugs, "Andy was much older. To the point she couldn't even remember. Why now?"

"I see Nicky looking at me, out of the corner of his eye. He's worried, I don't want him to be."

Nile smiles, and her hands find his. "So, we're here now. What do you want to do?"

He squeezes her hand back once, and then moves to pick up the knife. Bracing himself, Joe draws a single cut across his palm. Under the clouded moonlight, they watch with bated breath as his blood oozes out from the wound to pool in his palm.

A moment passes.

The skin begins to knit itself back together and in less than a minute there's no wound at all. "It's not my time." He exhales loudly, a sigh of pure relief, and she echoes the noise, allowing her back to rest against the bench and her jaw to unclench.

Joe wipes the blood off on his trousers, lets Nile take his hand again, and they sit for a few more hours on the bench to watch the stars come and go behind the thick grey clouds. When the sky lightens and turns a burnished gold, she finally speaks the question that had been turning over in the back of her mind.

"What would you have done if it was?"

"We have spent lifetimes together, and it will never feel like enough." He falls silent for a while, "I would treasure every second with him, until my heart stops beating."

His smile is soft and bright, and it always astonishes her, the way they orientate themselves around each other, towards each other.

A jogger runs by, a seagull pinwheels above, screeching loudly before swooping back down to the water.

"I'm glad. Because we've still got things to do."

Nile nods, feeling the heavy weight of her own relief. "They'll always be things to do."

They prefer to meet in places that the modern world has left mostly unmarked, in the heart of a forest or halfway up a mountain.

They meet again in the Scottish Highlands, and Nile sits down on a lichen covered rock to look out at a sea of thistles waving gently in the wind as the sun slowly begins to rise over the mountain range before them. "It's beautiful here."

Booker grins, just for the hell of it, and Joe and Nicky exchange a certain smile that has a whole larger meaning behind it, and she clocks it a fraction of a second too late. "Yeah, yeah, okay I get it. You've been here before."

"But you haven't, or her." Nicky says sleepily, "Sometimes it's nice to see things through new eyes."

Aisha had decided earlier that morning that she was going to hike up a mountain to catch the sunrise, while they had all preferred to have the lie-in instead.

"I get what she meant, a bit more anyway. "

"Of what?" Joe asks, laying out the bread to toast over the grill.

"Feeling adrift in time. It's like you've been set out at sea without an anchor."

"Unmoored and unbound...until you find your own anchor." Nicky muses, rolling onto his side on his sleeping bag to reach out a hand and touch Joe's shoulder.

"It's...mundane and sublime. All at the same time." Booker nods, eyes staring off into the distance, thoughts hauling memories further back in time.

"Hark at our philosopher here!" Joe says as he chucks a slice of toast at him.

Nicky yawns and sits up, "When Aish marched off this morning, and guess what she said, who knows when I'll get the chance to come here again."

"Ah, to be young and dewy eyed again." Joe grins, poking at the fire to send a shower of sparks to the ground. They glow brighter than the sun and then disappear into the dirt and stones around the firepit.

"She'll figure it out with time." Nile replies, tipping back to look up, feeling grounded as the years spool out before her under a clear sky.

#the old guard #the old guard netflix #the old guard fanfiction #nile freeman #i can't help myself when it comes to time and immortals #rupzydaisy

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saladejin · 4 years

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Call An Uber? | 01

BTS x Reader | idolverse au, uber driver!Reader, translator!Reader | Fluff, flirting, super slow burn, angst and hurt/comfort, mature themes and eventual smut

Summary: Your normal life with a normal, yet inconsistent job gets drastically changed when your dreams come true. Sounds boring right?

What happens when all of this occurs, but you’re still doing something you love AND getting a large sum for it? Now there’s something to think about, and it’s definitely not what you’re thinking.

Warnings: Mild swearing, hysterical fan behaviour

Word Count: 7.1k (Chapter 1 is longer than usual)

A/N: Okay, so in my next phase of finally crossposting my works to tumblr, I’m adding this massive multi-chapter fic.

I began this slow-burner (emphasis on slow-burn) a couple of years ago, so it’s easy to see how my writing has changed and evolved throughout.

Basically, I wanted to imagine what it would be like to have one of those ‘chance encounters’ every fan has thought of at least once. Thus, this fic was born, and though it is full of coincidences and wishful thinking, I always try to work realistically to make it enjoyable (and not as foolish as the premise makes it sound).

I hope you enjoy the ride, and feel free to check out the rest on my Ao3 in the meantime while I try my best to transfer everything in an orderly fashion! <3

»»————- << masterpost | next >>　————-««

Reader 1st person POV

Imagine being asked to remember the most boring day of your whole existence. If you're anything like me, then it's a bit hard to recall...but for once I was certain.

Today was that day.

Or it was, until something outrageous happened. Something so unprecedented and so unbelievable that I struggle to recall it at all.

I suppose I'll give it my best shot anyway.

A clear and uneventful morning leading straight into the annoyingly peaceful afternoon, and I had still only picked up and dropped off a measly number of people. Yes, being an Uber driver had its ups and downs, and I had been one for about a year and a half already. It paid decently enough most of the time, and the job just worked hand-in-hand with the flashy new car leaving a gaping hole in my bank account.

Despite all these alleged perks, today had been an obviously gruelling exception.

The lack of activity could be blamed on a number of scenarios, for instance a public holiday or event stirring attention somewhere else. Whatever it was, it was decreasing the number of customers in this usually bustling city of Seoul much to my dismay. I needed good cash, and I’d been working my ass off lately in order to get exactly that. Even closing myself off to social media and other forms of communication with friends helped me focus solely on working nowadays.

I need a real job…

Then suddenly, even as cliché as it sounds, God decided to answer all of my prayers. A loud ding emitted from my phone and I almost veered off the road in sheer astonishment.

“Thank the Lord!” I pulled up quickly onto the curb and examined the Uber request, almost questioning if I had imagined the whole thing out of desperation.

The name read ‘J’. Literally just the letter, boldly sitting in the middle of my screen. I raised an eyebrow, and normally would have considered declining the request if it seemed too prank-worthy, but I needed this job. I didn’t think the person had even registered or used the service before, as there wasn’t a clear rating to be seen anywhere. Once again...I needed this job.

The pinpoint appeared nearby, and luckily it was only about a five-minute drive to reach the destination. It was located just outside a large shopping mall in central Seoul, and even though this was a seemingly quiet day, it shouldn’t have been this empty. There were of course a few groups of people and individual shoppers wandering about, in and out of the entrance looking for easy buys. Even so, I knew this place to be quite popular and to say I was astounded would be an understatement.

There must be something going on in the city somewhere.

Making a grab for my phone about three minutes after looking around for ‘J’, I considered sending him or her a text to ask where they were. The place was basically empty, so spotting someone on the lookout for their ride shouldn’t have been too difficult.

“They mustn’t be out yet.” I clucked quietly to myself, typing out a message to indicate I had arrived.

The gentle hum of my engine was the only sound accompanying me as I waited. After another thirty seconds, I received a short reply of “there soon”. I glanced at the simple words a second time before lightly scoffing.

“Okay ‘J’, I’m in no rush.”

Still amused over the less than eloquent reply, I leant back into my comfortable leather seat and hummed to myself to pass some time. I would’ve usually had the radio going, but for now I wasn’t really in the mood for any background distractions. I liked silence when it was comfortable, and especially in a place such as this shopping mall, it was rare to come by.

The reverie was soon shattered when faint sounds of various screams erupted from somewhere in the distance, and I instantly jerked my head up with squinted eyes to observe the area. Tinted car windows revealed just enough of the area to discern an overall lack of movement.

The paved courtyard outside the mall wasn’t occupied by a single human being, which was even stranger than before. The only moving things I could eventually see where a couple of dirtied napkins being thrown around in the slight breeze, and a ripped paper cup from a popular juice bar rolling around caught in the same fate.

The frantic screaming continued. Should I be worried? The shouting wasn’t in terror or anger, that much I was sure of. I usually would pin it on some brawl breaking out nearby, but these sounds where mostly female when I listened closer. In any sense, it definitely sounded extreme.

I wondered briefly if there was some massive sale happening at a famous clothes brand down the street, causing a flurry of panic within female shoppers. The anticipation from the sounds caused me to tap my fingers on the steering wheel in curiosity.

Then it happened. An enormous group of Korean women and probably a few men, some looking fairly young, flocked around the corner of a building in an intense hurry.

Was the sale here or something??

My eyes widened in shock, as the group only seemed to be growing in numbers. Many were holding their phones out, as if recording something, and I scanned the rapidly moving crowd with anxious eyes to spot the source of the commotion.

Two well-dressed men seemed to be caught in the centre of it all. The pair that stemmed this chaotic crowd were clad from head to toe in designer clothes, including darkly coloured masks and sunglasses, not to mention the hoods covering their heads. The shorter of the two donned a lighter colour palette through a milky white button-up, while the other was dressed in a charcoal black hoodie and black ripped jeans.

They appeared to be trying to escape the bundling mass of people, as they moved quickly and swiftly ahead of the horde in their haste. I gripped the wheel in surprise. The screams where deafening and I could feel them grating my nerves. I hoped my client would not be caught in this mess. I wanted out, and I wanted out as soon as possible.

Maybe they’re famous, maybe idols?

A small excitement sparked at that thought, but I was still daunted by the scene playing out in front of me. If they were idols, I felt incredibly sorry for them. This was a clear breach of privacy and personal space, and they didn’t deserve it at all. This was the reason for hatred against K-pop fandoms all around the world.

“Who do they think they are?” I found myself muttering, eyebrows furrowing in disappointment.

Suddenly, the more brightly dressed man glanced around and pointed directly at my car, turning to his well-built friend to shout something following a flurry of gestures. I stiffened and my breath hitched when both started sprinting towards me, their fans following desperately to try and at least touch them.

Oh no.

My breathing sped up and the situation finally dawned on me. The empty mall, the shady name and blunt text response. The timing…

I unlocked all my doors and gripped the wheel harder, if that was even possible. The mass of people followed the two guys as they drew closer to my car, and I prayed to God that they didn’t leave any scratches or dents by the time I was gone. The one that acknowledged me first reached the car, and I jumped slightly when he opened the passenger door and clambered in swiftly. The other darkly dressed one threw himself in the backseat next and I jumped again when both doors slammed shut simultaneously.

“Hello!” The first guy cleared his throat from where he sat next to me and I could see he was bouncing his knee in apprehension, obviously wanting to scoot the fuck out of there, but still trying to be polite towards me. His breathing was shallow, and I could see large beads of sweat rolling down the side of his half-hidden face. I was in no mood to sit around and ponder about him.

“To hell with this!” I exclaimed with a squeak, and the second after the passenger door closed I shifted the gearstick and floored the pedal. Making sure that no people were in my way before skidding slightly around the pick-up bend. Only the sound of one singular hand slapping the boot of my car made me wince, but I was glad there was no other physical contact on my precious red Hyundai.

Only the sound of laboured breathing could be heard amongst sighs of relief as we pulled away from the mall. I looked into the rear-view mirror to see some people giving a hearty chase down the road, but most of the fans had broken away and were just waving towards my car as we rolled down the street.

Adrenaline was pumping through my veins, and I could feel a small smile resting on my face at the thought of escaping something like that. What a turn of events for this tedious day! A muffled gasp caught my attention and I looked into my mirror again to see the darkly dressed guy’s eyes screwed shut as he laughed breathlessly, one hand slapping his knee. His friend was just leaning his head back against the headrest as he gulped in large breaths of oxygen through his plump lips. They had both pulled down their masks and lifted their shaded glasses to catch their breaths, but the sight caused my own eyes to widen dangerously.

Holy shit on a stick, Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook are sitting in my car. What in the ever-loving…

My breathing hitched at the realisation, but I continued to drive steadily. The thing I needed to focus on most of all was getting away from the crazy population of the city. I knew internally I was freaking out a little at the thought of members of my favourite boyband sitting in my own car, but I kept it under wraps knowing they would definitely not appreciate another bout of whatever that shemozzle was before.

I guess nothing goes unnoticed when you’re that famous. Why the hell were they alone?

Jungkook stopped laughing as he looked at my wide-eyed and slightly terrified expression. He suddenly grew apologetic due to his unexplained laughing.

“Sorry, uh, just how you drove off… sorry.” His voice died down as he gradually started to regain his composure, and I watched a shy demeanour suddenly take over his form, as if he had been hit with a realisation of overstepping his bounds. Jimin just turned and glanced pointedly at him, and then back at me to search wearily for a response.

“No it’s fine, I’m just a tad shaken,” I huffed out an exasperated breath, amusement showing on my features at the maknae’s sudden behaviour change. The idol next to me cleared his throat as I turned another corner, luckily no traffic barred my way and I was easily able to fly down the main road.

“We’re very sorry for what happened back there, that was probably quite troublesome for you. We apologise for the inconvenience.”

“Seriously don’t worry. You guys definitely needed an escape from…that. I’m glad to help, honestly.” I smiled to ease any worry radiating from the two flustered boys. “J, right?”

I glanced upwards into the mirror to lock eyes with Jungkook, not missing the way Jimin tried to conceal a smirk from the younger member. “Ah, he’s not that creative with names it seems.”

The older boy’s melodic speaking voice caused my lips to part in an involuntary breath of awe. I had always loved Park Jimin’s voice, whether it be singing or speaking or doing literally anything. Jungkook’s amused exhale and gentle chuckle also made me quite soft.

“Ah, sorry about my rude message too.” He looked downwards and bowed slightly. I noticed how politely he spoke and my insides turned to jelly once again. I felt warm and fluffy from their pleasant mannerisms.

“Don’t worry guys, how could I expect an essay when you were running for your lives?”

The two boys couldn’t contain their amused smiles as they exchanged another glance, seemingly conflicted. I could tell they didn’t know quite what to do with themselves in this situation, as they surely seldom had to get rides from anyone else other than their own personal drivers. I saw Jimin’s brows crease in concentration next to me, as if he was trying to figure out how to maintain his sense of professionalism. His hands fidgeted with the hem of his shirt anxiously.

“You guys may want to start with an explanation, if that’s alright?” I decided to help them out a small bit. If I could establish a comfortable atmosphere here, it would be much easier to converse and work out what to do.

“I notice that you put the next street over as your destination, but I’m fairly sure you’d both want to go further than that.” I made my point with a raised eyebrow and gestured to my phone sitting on the dashboard, destination showing clearly across the bottom of the screen.

Jimin clicked his tongue and leant in to read my phone more clearly. My skin tingles at his closer proximity.

“Seriously Jungkookie, any other place would’ve been better,” he eventually spoke, and although his tone was whiny with complaint, I could see the traces of a smile dancing across his features. He was obviously trying his best to remain stern.

“Ah, sorry hyung. I didn’t have all that much time in this case, did you forget?”

The cheek of this boy.

Jimin turned around and pointed at the younger boy while failing to hold back a giggle.

“Oi, show some respect you brat.”

Jungkook was snickering to himself, and I couldn’t help the smirk from tugging at my lips involuntarily. The group these guys came from always had this certain dynamic of playful teasing that won over so many fans. I included myself in that list honestly, as I always managed to have a good laugh watching their energetic interactions. It made me feel so youthful, as though an inner child would come out to play even though I was still adolescent at the age of 22.

They were fine joking around with themselves for a bit, but I could tell they were still very conscious of me and my presence in the car. They stopped chuckling and Jungkook cleared his throat noticeably in the back, silently handing over the responsibility of the situation to his elder.

“Um, sorry about that as well,” Jimin began to launch into a heartfelt apology, his bouncy blonde hair lowering with his head in a meaningful bow. I stopped him softly with a smile and made steady eye contact for a couple of seconds. His oak-brown eyes were confused, and I knew he was trying his best to deal with the situation properly. Just as his leader would.

“It’s fine, no more apologies please,” I requested warmly, easing the tension as he leant backwards in his seat to relax.

“I just want to know how you both ended up there, if you don’t mind sharing that is. Also feel free to give me somewhere to drop you both off.”

Jimin glanced over at me once more as if calculating my chances of being a threat. I made sure to keep my expression calm and clear while focusing on the empty road in front of me.

“Do you know us?” the sudden question from behind caused Jimin’s head to snap backwards, and my heartbeat to speed up incredibly. It wasn’t an accusing tone Jungkook used, but more on the curious side. Jimin still showed slight disapproval before turning his gaze back to me, a newfound curiosity also flashing across his features. It seemed he became a little shy after the topic of their fame rolled around, but I could tell he still wanted to know pretty badly.

“I’d consider myself a pretty big fan, not insane but you get what I mean,” I managed to force out, swallowing the lump in my throat at the thought of explaining my admiration for them.

They were literally sitting in my car and I never thought I would be shy, but here I was with an embarrassed blush alighting across my face. Jimin widened his eyes next to me, his mouth parting slightly in his shock. Jungkook inhaled a sharp breath before letting out another hearty chuckle.

“Wow! I never would have known.”

“Neither, I guess you must not be as emotional as many ARMY are when they see us,” Jimin smiled at the thought, and it was easy to say he didn’t mean anything bad by the comment.

“I’m just here to do my job. I’m not usually one to express my emotions that intensely, but I’ll let you both know that you’ve made my entire day.”

I saw Jimin turn his radiant smile towards me with an abashed sound falling from his lips. “Thank you, you’ve done so much for us already. Thank you for rescuing us.”

I saw him throw a questioning glance at Jungkook, who in turn squinted his doe-like eyes in confusion.

“It’s (Y/n). You can use honorifics if you want, but I don’t care much for them,” I explained softly, easing his sudden bout of guilt for not even knowing my name.

“Ah, thanks once again (Y/n)-ssi.”

Both of the boys were nervous, as they had just learned that I was a fan and were probably expecting me to flip out on them at any given moment. I knew Jungkook was shy around girls especially, but even he was kind of uncharacteristically silent in the back.

“Don’t worry, I’m not going to freak out on you,” I assured them, keeping my eyes fixated on the road with a mostly amused expression. “I’m curious as to why you guys were alone with no protection out there. That usually doesn’t seem to happen.”

“No, definitely not,” Jimin sighed and I heard Jungkook hum in agreement.

“We didn’t mean to get separated from the others, we were all meant to just be shopping,” Jungkook huffed, and I could tell the young man was still shaken from his escapade from the mall. His large dark eyes were still slightly widened from the adrenaline spike.

“Yeah, everyone was together, and then we weren’t. Then the fans appeared and all we could do was run. Jungkook had to download Uber and make an account and everything on the spot. Lucky you were there because our drivers weren’t going to be around until a few more hours,” Jimin provided, his voice rough and raspy with weariness and relief. I could tell the shorter member was finally beginning to relax in the presence of the vehicle.

“Shit, I gotta call the Boss!” Jimin whipped out his phone and groaned when he discovered a couple of missed calls from his manager already.

I gave him a nod to let him know he could make the call safely. I wouldn’t record it or anything shady like that, I respected them too much and it wasn’t in my nature at all. Jimin gazed over a final time before finally deciding to place his full trust in me. I was already driving the car he was hitching a ride in, so trust honestly couldn't have mattered less when both of their lives were pretty much already cradled in my hands.

“I’d like to thank you as well (Y/n)-ssi, you really did save us back there,” Jungkook commented quietly as he leaned forward so I could hear. Neither of us wanted to interrupt Jimin as he fell into a heated discussion with his manager, or possibly Namjoon from the sounds of his replies over the phone.

“It’s okay Jungkookie, I know you guys deserve a much-needed break after all that. Sit back and enjoy the ride is all I'll say,” I said with a sigh, and finally decided to relax as well by releasing the tension in my muscles to sit more comfortably. I noticed Jungkook smirk cutely at the nickname accidently slipping out, and was just glad that he didn’t find it inappropriate.

“No, I swear she’s fine. She won’t do anything like that hyung,” Jimin’s suddenly louder response caused my smile to drop and my eyes to swivel around to the blonde boy. His temperament had grown agitated and I could see he was having difficulty trying to convince his managers and group leader. His round cheeks were blown out in exasperation, and I could clearly read the worry flitting across his expression.

“Jimin-ssi, if he wants to talk to me he can,” I offered softly so I didn’t spook him, raising my eyebrows in encouragement. We’d travelled a fair way, so pulling over was an option even though it was probably still too dangerous to linger in one place for long.

“No thanks it’s fine, I do trust you.” Jimin shook his head and I couldn’t help but smile at his kind, yet stubborn nature. These boys had no idea who I was, yet they put their faith in me and my driving ability for longer than they even needed to.

Jimin finished up with his call after another few minutes of stressed reassuring.

“Um, (Y/n)-ssi? I have an address I need to put in. If that’s okay.” He turned to me after letting out an explosive sigh, and I nodded towards the phone resting on the dashboard.

“Go ahead, distance isn't an issue.”

Jimin smiled at my response and shyly reached forward for my phone, still trying to be respectful.

“Hyung said it would be ideal if you dropped us off somewhere nearby the dorms so there’s no suspicion, but apparently all nearby areas are swarming with fans trying to figure out what’s going on.”

“Shit,” I breathed, the full realisation dawning on me. If their fans found out who I was, I wouldn’t be left alone for a while. I could imagine receiving threats and loads of unwanted attention, possibly not even being able to leave my house for a few days at the very least.

“So, you’ll have to drop us at the actual dorms then.”

“What?” I questioned in an instant. That sounded like the dumbest thing I’d ever heard.

“Isn’t that the area where most of the fans would be?”

“Well, most likely, but there's security.” Jimin ran a hand down his face as if trying to rub away the sudden bout of stress brought on, and I could fathom just how tired he was from all the rambunctious disorder.

“Why not drive you somewhere far away and get your driver to pick you up or something?”

“I did suggest that, but they just want us back as soon as possible so they can calm everyone down. I don’t mean to be rude, but they can’t exactly know or predict what you’ll do.”

That definitely made sense. Watching another car pull out of the building might also cause the fans to suspect the worst. They could even believe that I kidnapped the two band members instead of saving them. Well, that and there was absolutely no reason for their company to trust me with two of their idols that much.

“Okay, but one of you lend me a mask or something. I’m not going in there with a death wish.”

Jungkook chuckles from the back seat, and I’m slightly startled due to not hearing from the younger boy for a while.

“You’re right though, here you can use mine. I have my hoodie anyway.” A hand appeared next to me holding a familiar black mask, the faint but fragrant smell of a rare cologne wafting around me at the action. Of course, anything he’s worn would smell this expensive. Seeing how normal they can act, it’s hard to remember just how rich they actually are.

“Thanks.” I slipped on the mask and the smell was now stronger. I almost swooned.

“It’s actually not as far as I thought,” I commented when the map displayed the route to take. I knew the traffic was most likely to be more congested in this area than the city mall was before, so I decided to take a couple of back routes.

“Good plan,” Jungkook piped in with a nod and I saw the excited grin plastered on his face.

“What are you so happy about?” Jimin scoffed with a raised brow.

“I dunno, just this whole thing is so… exciting? Nothing like this has ever happened before,” Jungkook replied while trying to smother his grinning, but failing miserably.

“True, you guys would usually be living a careful life, right?” I decided to join in. Jimin and Jungkook didn’t seem to be shy or guarded around me as much as they were, but I knew they were still keeping face amongst all the drama.

“Of course, we don’t want our precious fans to worry about us,” Jimin went on in a level tone, his hand flying up to emphasise his point. I still couldn’t get over how captivating his voice sounded in person, and how it was this close to me...

“Speaking of fans, you’re an ARMY?” Jungkook’s cheeky lilt gained my attention and caused me to look up and lock eyes with him in the rear-view mirror.

“What of it?”

I try to suppress my sharp exhale of amusement, but fail miserably as well. Kookie’s adorable expression of playful confidence, bordering on egotistical even, made the laughter bubble up.

“Well, obviously you’d have a favourite, a bias.”

The question causes me to now laugh loudly, smacking the wheel once.

“Ah, I should’ve seen this coming honestly.”

Jimin clicked his tongue at his junior band member. “As if it matters.”

His voice is also playful, and I can tell he’s just as curious as the maknae by how he looks across at me with raised eyebrows and a small knowing smirk adorning his full lips. They were both taking this as a joke, and I was not going to be any different.

“Of course it matters Jimin, this is the question that decides my fate,” I feigned offense, and watched as his smile caused his eyes to disappear in the cutest, squishiest way imaginable.

Before I could say anything else, an embarrassed blush swarmed my cheeks as I spluttered, “Oh crap, I forgot the honorific.”

“Its fine,” Jimin assured. “You mentioned you don’t care for them before, so I can live without it.”

I smirked at him and shook my head slightly. “You’re actually too nice.”

His melodious chuckle was then interrupted by the mischievous maknae in the back.

“Hey, don’t change the subject hyung. Who’s your favourite member (Y/n)?” I noticed he took instant advantage of the honorific drop, and almost slipped an amused snort.

“Well it’s not either of you, that’s for sure.”

I knew they could tell there was a certain level of sarcasm in my tone, but they still let out varying noises of defeat.

“What, no way. It must be Jin-hyung then,” Jungkook groaned and I couldn't contain a giggle. His narcissistic nature was showing, and this time I wasn’t even sure if it was a joke or not. Jimin chose to pipe in as well, obviously enjoying the mystery that was my ‘supposed Bangtan bias’.

“Nah, I reckon it’s Tae. She’s weird enough to be a perfect match for him.”

Oh my, he really went there.

Both of the boy’s breath hitched, as if they thought I was going take offense and kick them out on the curb.

“Honestly, if you think Tae’s weird then I’m a whole other level. Although I guess I can never know who you guys are behind the screen.”

Jimin visibly relaxed after hearing me take the joke, but then grew serious again after my last comment.

“We’re fairly genuine to our fans, as much as we can be,” He defended, but wasn’t insulted. Jungkook nodded in agreement from the back, still smiling from the joking around that happened before.

“Of course, that’s why you’re one of my favourite groups, but you have to admit it is kind of impossible for someone like me to make a judgement on someone I’ve never met.”

“That is true, I guess. We really do try hard for you guys. I never thought super hard about that,” Jimin looked upwards as he pondered, and I felt proud that I’d gotten more than enough glimpses of both their true natures just from this simple car ride. Though, realistically they could be phenomenal actors and I wouldn’t know any different.

“We may be one of your favourite groups, but I’m still waiting for the member~,” Jungkook started lowly from the back, his sentence breaking off into his famous high pitched giggle when he saw my deadpan expression staring him down in the mirror. Jimin joined in and I sighed in defeat.

“Okay. I don’t have one.”

There’s a small silence, but both boys explosively let out sounds of understanding.

“Ah, you’re one of those.”

I was about to question what Jimin meant, but Jungkook cut me off.

“I was just about to pin her as a Yoongi stan.”

The sudden and serious statement made me cackle, although the sound was muffled by the black fabric of the mask over my mouth.

“Oh boy, you have absolutely no idea. My best friend…” I trailed off as laughter gripped me, almost causing me to veer off the road uncontrollably.

“Jesus Christ, watch out!” Jimin breathlessly squeaked as he made a grab for the wheel to steady the moving car. I gripped the wheel harder in fear, but amusement washed over me once again.

“Hyung did your voice just-”

“Shut up.”

I couldn’t stop the amused snort, but managed to regain control. My chuckles were now borderline wheezes, and I could hear Kookie in the back sharing the same demise.

“As I was saying,” I began, but erupt once more as the memory of Jimin’s voice crack surfaced back to the front of my mind. Jungkook is in shambles, but Jimin is just sitting with his head buried in his hands next to me, shoulders shaking as he tries to avoid his inevitable embarrassment.

“Stoooop.” He drawled it out and reached behind him to smack the chortling maknae on the knee somewhat harshly. I knew he hated the fact that he just got embarrassed in front of some stranger, who had also been established as a pretty avid fan. Poor Chim.

“You forget I’ve seen videos of your many embarrassments,” I offered in between chuckles, and caught the moment his face scrunched up in an adorable cringe. A sigh of defeat fell from his lips. “Yeah, I give up.”

He still chuckled and shook his head, the tinkling sounds causing me to bring a hand up to clutch my chest dramatically. Both boys laughed cutely once again at my reaction, Jimin’s eyes disappearing as he covered his face with one small hand.

“You sure you’re not a Jimin stan, noona?” Jungkook chimes in. I raised a brow and decided to skilfully avoid the question.

“Ah, so you picked up that I’m older than you?”

Jungkook stopped, his jaw going slack at the sudden question, and I found myself face to face with his widely memed blankness instead. I almost can’t contain myself.

“Oh, yeah maybe? It kind of actually just slipped out.”

I find myself giggling at the return of his shy persona, and he smiled bashfully at the floor in response. His tongue pushed out one of his cheeks in shame.

“Yah, don’t assume such a thing,” Jimin chuckled, obviously grateful that the heat was finally off of him.

“Don’t worry, I’m the same age as Jiminie I believe,” I decided to help the poor boy out, craning my neck forward to check the next turn off for oncoming cars.

We were actually almost to the destination, and the trip had flown by way too quickly. After Jungkook made a noise of comprehension, Jimin looked around suddenly and grunted in surprise.

“Crap, I was meant to call Namjoonie back a few minutes ago.”

“What are you doing hyung?” Jungkook chided in flippant scolding, to which Jimin responded with another angered slap. He brought out his phone and dialled a number quickly, obviously not concerned that I could very well easily read and memorise it in two seconds flat.

As If I would anyway.

I fell silent as Jimin waited for the phone call to connect.

Jungkook 3rd person POV

Jungkook also waited, breathless at the thought of how dire the situation was to their careers as a whole. This was such a strange occurrence to the famous band members, and he thought about how normal and relaxed the car ride had actually been when compared to how awkward they thought it was going to turn out.

When Jungkook had made the Uber request originally, he and Jimin were prepared to face the worst. Anyone who had the opportunity to drive a car unsupervised with two famous idols in tow could easily turn the tables and expose them more, or maybe even do worse things…

He shook his head at the thought and silently swallowed the bile rising in his throat. He glanced over to your form sitting in the driver’s seat, stiffened slightly due to the very important call being made.

You had been nothing but kind and understanding so far, not to mention hilariously easy going. Jungkook found himself respecting you immediately. You could have freaked out and demanded autographs or photos from them at any time. You could have decided to not drop them off where they wanted and just continued to drive for eternity. You could have even taken them anywhere you wanted to, but no, you listened to them, respected their privacy and even agreed to risk your reputation to drive them into their dorms where countless fangirls could eat you alive if they found out.

You were just amazing, and Jungkook knew his hyung felt similarly. Well, considering how he defended you without question before when Namjoon probably jumped to conclusions, it was evident that Jimin trusted you too.

Jungkook was completely numb from bewilderment. Everything could have gone wrong for them in their haste to escape the mob of their excited fans, but it didn’t, and it was all thanks to you.

These types of people drive our purpose, we’re so happy to have reached you.

Although if he was honest, he wouldn't mind at all if you got all flustered and cute while gushing over him. Just a little bit.

Reader 1st person POV

I watched as Jimin jerked the phone away from his ear suddenly, a loud voice booming loudly through the tiny speaker to reach even my ears. Jimin’s face winced as he brought the phone back to his ear hesitantly.

“We’re so sorry for the mess Sir, but it worked out.”

I knew that he was most likely talking to his manager or director with how his language changed. He ruffled his blonde hair anxiously and continued to listen to the voice on the line, eventually digging his teeth into his bottom lip in another bout of anxiety.

“Wait, we’re almost to the dorms, she’s got a mask on and everything-” Jimin was cut off and my eyes darted in between him and the road ahead to try and figure out what was happening. His breathing sped up and I could see his own eyes meeting mine a few times worriedly.

What is going on?

We were getting close to the dorms, and I had already noticed how the housing had become wealthier the more I drove through the city. The streets were becoming beautiful and cleaner. I knew that the boys lived in most likely the richest place in the city, and this place was by far the definition of that.

One thing I also noticed is that there were a few groups of girls dotted here and there that were walking or sitting around the footpaths. Some even saw my car and started pointing and taking photos while jumping up and down.

“Well, there goes my anonymity.” I sighed and slumped further in my seat, as if to hide my face better than it was already hidden. The only sound as I drove onwards was Jimin’s occasional reply into the phone next to me. His responses were becoming less worried, but still sounded unenthusiastic.

“Yes, I understand, okay I’ll tell her,” Jimin murmured and I held my breath at the sound of the call being hung up. My curiosity was nothing short of burning, and I instantly turned to the blonde boy when he looked at me pointedly.

“Um, our manager needs you to come in with us so you can speak with him and sign some stuff.”

I look forward again and nod once in understanding. “Yeah, I knew this would most likely happen. Confidentiality, right?”

I crack a smile at the thought of actually going in and meeting the famous Bang Sihyuk, CEO and founder of Bighit Entertainment.

“Wow,” I breathed after fully wrapping my head around what was happening.

“I guess you never thought this would happen.” Jungkook chuckled from the backseat, and I scoffed in disbelief.

“Yeah it’s not every day you meet two members of Bangtan and their producer.”

The sarcasm was heavy, and the two boys grinned in amusement. Jimin leant forwards to rest his forehead on the dashboard in a weary manner. “Ah, I’m so sorry for forcing you into this mess (Y/n)-ssi.”

“What did I say about apologising? I love you guys and your music; this is the least I can do to repay you for all the happiness you have brought me.” My voice became emotional and quiet as I let out all my pent-up feelings. I didn’t know how exactly I could express my bundling thoughts into formed words, but I felt as though that might have been just enough to let them know how ecstatic I truly was that this miracle had happened to me.

“You must be an angel,” Jimin smiled at me so sweetly and genuinely that I had to rip my gaze away from him in order to prevent tearing up. I heard Jungkook sigh in awe at my words, and I looked up to see him smiling shyly at the ground before glancing forward.

“Devoted fans like you are the reason we have made it this far, (Y/n).”

Jimin turns his head and gives Jungkook a look that says 'Well that was fucking sappy' but I can’t help but smile wider and let out a tiny gleeful squeak unknowingly.

His words had caused my emotions to storm again, and I was so fortunate to hear them in person that I didn’t even know what to do with myself. I gripped the wheel tighter so I wouldn’t let go and do anything stupid. Since I had my mask on, they could only see my smile through how my eyes and cheeks bunched up, but unfortunately the mask wasn’t large enough to cover my entire face.

“Awe you’re so cute when you blush like that!” Jimin laughed loudly, reaching out to poke my reddening skin. I gasped and knocked his hand away softly with one of my own.

“Leave me alone, I can’t control it or anything.”

Jungkook was also sniggering in the back, his cheeky nature making a comeback as I shook my head to try and rid myself of the heat.

“Sorry for that noona.”

Now he was using the word to tease me, and I fought the urge to slap him like Jimin did before. “Silly boy, I swear you’ll never make me blush again.”

“You sure about that? I’ll accept the challenge.”

“And we’re here!” I dragged out the first word to hopefully try and cut him off. I could still hear him giggling in the back, his knowing smile holding an impish quality.

The sight before me was spectacular, if that was even enough to sum it up. The area in which BTS lived was absolutely breathtaking, and I knew that this was in fact one of the, if not the richest place in all of Seoul.

The gardens were marvellously well grown and maintained, while the architecture seemed to gleam and glow in the sunlight, too perfectly constructed to be true. Modern was also an understatement, as this place seemed borderline futuristic. To describe it in one word, glorious.

“I don’t even know if someone like me should go in there,” I stammered, my voice cracking multiple times in sheer astonishment.

“Don’t be silly, how else are we gonna get in there?” Jimin joked and I snorted lightly at his change of demeanour.

“Walk, silly.” I shared a cheeky glance with the maknae behind me when Jimin gasped.

“Rude, and here I thought you were a fan?”

“I’m joking Jimin, alright how do we actually do this?” I looked around and saw a parking space out the front of the main building. Jimin gestured towards it and nodded, giving me the go to proceed.

There were no fans lurking around this place due to the security, but I knew I wouldn’t be able to escape any photographers if they were there. Luckily we had only a few brief, yet concerning encounters with the fans while driving in to the complex itself.

If Kookie hadn’t given me the mask I would be dead meat cooking on a spit.

I parked the car carefully and fell back into my seat with a sigh. Jimin and Jungkook eyed me with concern clouding their features.

“We’re so-”

“Park Jimin, will you eventually heed my words?” I tilted my head and blinked rapidly at him with a smile on my face. He sees my playful, yet tired expression and shakes his head with an annoyed groan.

“I probably will never stop apologising for the trouble we’ve caused.”

I sighed again and exaggerated a pout, borderline mockery if you will. Jungkook let out a huff and a click of his tongue indicated the long-awaited comeback of his cocky attitude.

“Come on hyung, she already said it doesn’t matter.”

His tone caused Jimin to narrow his eyes towards the back accusingly, and I watched as the younger member sat back down, satisfied with the reaction.

“Thank you maknae,” I rolled my eyes and suppressed a chuckle at his scoff, catching Jimin’s amused and appreciative look. I observed around one more time before turning my gaze upwards to glance at the building next to us.

“Okay it’s now or never boys, run and don’t look back.”

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wordstro · 4 years

Note

mingi + mafia au + you shouldn't have done that

mingi x gender neutral reader, 1.5k, thank you!!!!!!!!!!!

Part 2

you were meant to do great things. at least that’s what your parents, your teachers, even your best friend used to tell you over and over and over, beaming at you and whatever your newest accolade of the moment was. you had ranked number one in your class all throughout high school. you had your pick between the top three universities in the country. at graduation, you were on top of the world.

and then, things went downhill and never really stopped.

you’re still not quite sure when you’ll hit rock bottom, when you’ll finally get to turn your life around. or maybe, you missed that chance long ago. your father grew incredibly ill and your mother fell into debt. you worked too many part time jobs to help pay it off and your grades slipped. eventually, your father passed away and your mother was too busy dealing with grief and debt to really be a mother. you failed one too many classes and got kicked out of university. you still felt like you needed to help your mother pay off the crippling amount of debt and you indulged yourself in people you would have never given the light of day. and, to top it all off, your best friend slowly stopped answering your calls and your texts, drifting out of your life as if he hadn’t been there since you were both children, as if all those years and late nights and time spent together meant nothing.

it’s been years since then, but the mere thought of him still brings tears to your eyes, still makes your stomach curl with guilt, still makes you wonder what the hell you did wrong. during your brief phone calls with your mother, she would ask about him, and you never had the heart to just tell her. but, maybe she noticed your short answers because, nowadays, she’s stopped. nowadays, she’s even stopped asking for details about your job.

you’re grateful for that, really, because how the hell are you supposed to tell your sweet, tired mother that you work as a freelance hacker for an underground network of crime syndicates? it’s a bit of a mouthful, really, and you don’t think your poor mother’s heart can take such news.

sometimes, you wonder if this is your rock bottom. especially when you catch sight of yourself in the blackness of your screen before you boot up your laptop. the debt hasn’t stopped and you don’t think it ever really will because interest is a fucking bitch, but it’s become manageable. sometimes, you think about how you could go back to school. you could get decent work in an office somewhere.

but, you kind of like the thrill of this. you could go back, but you won’t. you know you won’t. you enjoy the rush of adrenaline when you receive a notification from one of your clients instructing you to extract information for them. you never ask too many questions about the whos. you only really care about the compensation. and this particular task has a price tag of several million won.

you raise your brow, stretching your fingers and cracking your back, already thinking about all the things you plan on buying with the extra money, grinning because the task in question is easy. almost too easy. you just need to root out a location from within a shit ton of security walls, as if whoever built it absolutely does not want anyone to find them. you grin and get to work.

~.~.~.~.~

you’ve seen your fair share of security systems over the course of your career and you’d rank this one as one of the tougher ones. still, you get in. you always get in.

and, for a moment, the IP address appears on your screen. the tension falls from your shoulders as you sit back admiring your work. for a moment, all is well.

until it isn’t.

your screen turns red, filling with white static, and it’s fucking terrifying. especially when it starts keening, high pitched, shrill, ringing in your ears, until it goes black.

you freeze, slowly peeking out from behind your chair, eyeing the computer in concern. you wonder if it’ll explode. white symbols fill the screen, cursor blinking. it takes a moment to register the message and when you do, your heart drops into the pit of your stomach, your breath catching in your throat. it’s your full name and your current location, written out in full, almost as if it’s mocking you. a chill runs straight down your spine and, for a moment, you’re frozen in your spot, crouched behind your computer chair. you were always cautious. you switched between VPNs constantly, you kept your work computer clear of anything and everything relating to your identity. this shouldn’t be happening. holy shit, you need to go. you shoot up, rummaging through your closet for the getaway bag you made long ago, just in case. you knew you needed a contingency plan when you started this. you just never expected to actually need it. but, now, you need to get out. you need a burner phone and cash and -

knock, knock.

the things in your hand slip, clattering all over the floor, and you flinch at the loud noise, glancing between the laptop and the door. you contemplate jumping out the window, but you’re on the third floor and you doubt that -

beep. beep. beep. click.

the front door sits ajar and the hairs at the back of your neck stand on end. for a beat, you are so terrified you aren’t sure if you can even move. then your brain jumps into overdrive. you need something to defend yourself with, though. you’re frantic when you yank the lamp off the table beside the couch, scurrying into the kitchen.

it’s so quiet you could hear a pin drop and you hate it. you swear your own heartbeat can be heard in the quiet of your apartment. there is no force used, you notice, as if your brain is clinging to the tiniest details as a way to keep calm and collected. nothing about the knocking at your door nor the technical break-in is forceful or loud, and it’s somehow worse than if someone had just kicked your door down and stuck a gun in your face. you lift the lamp over your head, just as you hear the creak of the front door opening and the faintest of whispers. you hear footsteps, slow and measured, so fucking casual, echoing throughout your apartment and your grip on the lamp tightens. it doesn’t take long for the footsteps to approach the kitchen. you don’t even try to catch a glimpse of the intruder; the moment they step into reach, you bring the lamp down over their head with a loud thud.

a man cries out in pain - the loudest noise you’ve heard yet this evening, the sound making you flinch - and you back out of the kitchen, nearly tripping on your own feet, not even bothering to watch the man crumple to his knees. you just hope he stays down.

but, you didn’t account for the other voice, the other footsteps.

you yelp when you run face first into a sturdy wall of a person, thrashing as their fingers wrap around you, holding you steadfast with such ease. you think, holy shit, holy shit, I don’t want to die, while you’re being dragged and tossed onto the floor of your living room. you hit your head too hard, vision swimming, pain shooting through your skull, but you manage to put space between you and where you think the intruders are. you stare, wary, terrified, thinking, thinking, thinking. you open your mouth, ready to scream, but there’s a pretty boy with dark eyes and sharp features staring down at you, head tilted, a gun cocked in his hands.

he says, “scream and i’ll shoot.”

you didn’t account for three intruders, the man with the gun, the one you hit over the head with the lamp, and whoever is helping him up. your eyes flicker past the kitchen entrance, frantically searching over the man’s shoulder for an opening. you notice the lack of face coverings - from what you’ve picked up throughout your years of working in the underground, you know that is not a promising sign, it usually means they don’t plan on letting you live long enough to expose their identities - and you scoot further back until your back hits the wall. the man’s eyes and gun follows you, a kind smile playing on his lips, out of place in a situation like this. it’s just as unsettling as the lack of force behind their break in, the silence with which they work under.

two people emerge from your kitchen, the man you presumably hit over the head grumbling under his breath while the other one holds him up, towering over him. the man with the gun speaks up, pulling your attention back to him, “now, tell us.” he steps forward and you have nowhere to go. “why exactly were you trying to hack into our systems? who put you up to this?”

“I…I don’t know.” your voice comes out steadier than you expected and you’re grateful for that. the man with the gun sighs. you glare, you can’t help it. “I really don’t know. I make it a point not to know who my clients are.”

the man sighs, yet again, and somehow that angers you. you watch as he steps back from you, gun still directed at you, turning his torso to face his friends. your gaze flickers up to them and you -

“holy shit.” your fingers dig into your palms, your eyes locked on him.

because it’s song mingi.

memories that you have spent years trying to forget floods into the forefront of your mind. birthdays spent with him, his soft smile, the first memories you’ve had with him, playing tag in your parents’ house. the way he sometimes insisted you be the big spoon when the two of you cuddled, laughing at the way you could barely contain his long limbs in your arms. the way he cried into your shoulder when his family dog had to be put down. the promises of forever he made with you. his laugh, the way his eyes would scrunch up and his smile would get so big. memories and feelings and everything just floods through you and you can feel tears prickling at your eyes, your chest heavy, words stuck in your throat.

he has red hair now, his arm curled around the man you hit over the head. still, he hasn’t changed much. he’s taller, broader, older, but he is the same in so many ways. his eyes, though, are different. the light and love they always held has dimmed and there’s something dark about his gaze, something ancient and sad and irredeemable, something broken. your breath catches at the sight, at the way his eyes widen ever-so-slightly, before they narrow, at the way you can’t read his face easily like you used to be able to.

“mingi?” you speak, then, your voice less steady than before, barely audible really, if it wasn’t for how quiet the apartment had become. both his friends startle at that, but your eyes are on him. there is a mix of anger and relief and yearning that curls in your chest. you’ve missed him, you realize. you’re angry because he left you so long ago, that he is standing here now, on the side of the man with the gun pointed at you, and you should be mad, should be screaming, but you missed him. maybe this is your rock bottom.

for a moment, mingi softens, eyes returning to the way he used to look at you before. for a moment, you can pretend he still cares about you.

but, only for a moment.

his gaze steels, his lips pressing into a thin line. he slips his hands off his friend, stepping towards you and there is an aura surrounding him that is unfamiliar and, frankly, terrifying.

he crouches, until he is at eye level with you. you hold your breath. he says, “you’ve built a very notorious reputation for yourself you know. makes sense, though, you’ve always been the greatest at whatever you put your mind to.”

there’s something so very foreboding about the way he says that. you blink, manage to respond, “why are you…what do you want from me? what are you…what are you going to do to me?”

mingi looks at you like you are a stranger and you think, no, this is your rock bottom. he leans in close, red hair falling over his unreadable eyes, elbows resting on his knees. the world falls away and all that is left is you and mingi, mingi and you.

he breathes, “hacking into our systems? you really shouldn’t have done that, sweetheart.” then he tilts his head and stares you down. you cannot breathe as he tacks on, “now we have to make an example out of you.”

#song mingi #ateez #ateez angst #ateez scenarios #mingi angst #requests #i hope u like it!! maybe i want to make a part 2 but idk TT #Anonymous

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scarlxtleaves · 3 years

Text

Completely unprompted | Open | @eris-the-phantom-thief

Hana glanced down at her phone, it was late and Yosuke wasn’t there…he’d promised her he��d be there but he wasn’t. ‘Is Yosuke avoiding me…? I finally told him about what happened but...is he grossed out by me? Does he hate me for not telling him earlier? Is that what’s wrong? What if he found someone else at work…?’

Tears welled up in her eyes as she stared at the screen of her phone waiting for some kind of response. Nothing. No texts. No missed calls. Nothing.

Finally she stood up, grabbed her bag, and let her tears run free down her cheeks. “Nice dream...but I guess it’s finally time to wake up.”

Earlier that day.

“Alright I should have just about enough time to sneak her a text during my break.” The young man said as he mops the smal lamount of sweat that came formin atop his brow before his ears caught a frantic sound. “Yooosuuuukeeeeeee!!” Their Junes mascot exclaims with tears practically streaming from his eyes as he ran quickly towards Yosuke. “Oh no..” The only word Yosuke could let escape his lips, he was tired, overworked but a date he planned was the only thing keeping him in high spirits. “Calm down calm down..what's the matter.” Said Yosuke stopping the mascot bear from practically jumping him. “Oh Yosuke it was terrible we've got a pickpocket among us. I was there just minding my own business, looking at my phone because we bearly had any customers at electronics, until these two punks show up and..and took away my phone.” Said Teddy. “Why did you let it happen in the first place, I've seen you take out shadows twice as bigger as any teenager.” Yosuke spoke with a tone that described his disbelief. But the bear only looked sadder.

“One of them..g-got me from behind, by the time I realized what had happened they've already yoinked it from my beautiful paws.” That sentence only causes Yosuke to lean his face into an open palm. “Okay, okay I'll just get you burner before..you'll just have to make due before I get paid.” Honestly, sometimes yosuke thinks that he's got Teddie spoiled..or maybe Teddie has him in his back pockets...whatever the reason..the bear worked with him but figured most of that paycheck goes into buying food for him along with other cosmetics to keep that fur of his shiny and clean. “Can I borrow your phone so I can call Sensei or Rise-chan??” Teddie spoke the minute he saw Yosuke taking out his phone to make a quick text. “Huh? No way, my batteries are barely alive as is.” the young man responds lifting his phone higher from the bear's reach but the blue bear still resisted and tried reaching for his phone. “Please, please..just one minute.” “Hey!..I said..n-no..agh..” Through the struggle the phone fell from his hand and it was as if the world around him moved in slow motion as he helplessly watches the phone crash against the floor and broke into pieces including a cracked screen. “Nooooooo!!” Yosuke's blood curdling cries of despair echoes through the store. “Man...now how am I going to tell her when i'm going to be there...nah, it'll be okay she trusts me...” He spoke softly as the hours rolled on and he was still working, getting an overtime whilst still giving Teddie a dirty look whenever he was near.

Present time.

Yosuke couldn't even wait for anything, barely taking the time to adjust his helmet as he speeds through the streets atop his scooter until he arrived at the designated area and before he knew it the moment he park he saw her, she was crying...he was late yeah but why was she sad? “Hana-chan?? Are you okay?”

#❛ YOSUKE ANSWERS ━ if you put the time in he'll put you to the test.#eris-the-phantom-thief

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darkpoisonouslove · 4 years

Text

Sparks of Life Actual Trivia

As the title suggests, I will do my best to try to keep this to things that are actual trivia and not the outlines of fics (even though, let’s be real, I could turn anything into story material). Here we go.

- Valtor’s most used emoji is a blue heart that he is always sending Griffin. He barely uses any of the other emojis and that one somehow always appears as the most recently used as well as simply the most used. Griffin finds it cute even when she jokes that her most used emoji is for certain the one that is facepalming. Not just when she’s texting with him but with the twins, too, and sometimes, yes, even with Faragonda (though, that is usually when the conversation steers to something Hagen did XD). Her actual most used emoji is the one with the sunglasses because she is a badass bitch. (All of this is totally Zarathustra’s fault as she is the one that gave Griffin the opportunity to use literally every single emoji there is (and annoyed her into doing it).) Her second most used emoji is the one that blows a kiss. That one can be used both ironically and unironically. She might be a sassy bitch but she is a sassy bitch that really loves her people and even shows it from time to time. XD

- Valtor bought Griffin a waterfall incense burner:

and she has not been able to recover from that gift ever since. It meant a lot to her since she immediately fell in love with the idea of a waterfall incense burner when she first saw it but she didn’t think of buying one for herself since Valtor has a delicate sense of smell and strong scents irritate him easily. She needs to be careful when she buys scented candles and perfumes (or she’d end up giving them to the twins, again) and she didn’t think it a good idea to have one of those as she rarely burned incense anymore because of his sensitivity. She was very touched when he bought one for her and absolutely loves watching the smoke cascading down like it’s water. They still have to maneuver with it sometimes but it’s all good.

- One time Emalyn had brought out the old albums with whatever photos she and Griffin’s dad had managed to take of their daughter. She and Valtor were going through them while Griffin was fussing on Valtor’s shoulder (no need to let go of him just because she’s not thrilled about his curiosity). Valtor noticed the bowl of gummy bears in one of the photos and asked about it. Emalyn laughed before telling the story about how for one of Griffin’s birthdays in college Ediltrude had made vodka gummy bears since Griffin really loved eating the things when she was little and, well, it needed to be appropriate for the celebration at hand so just ordinary gummy bears wouldn’t cut it. Valtor listened intently but Griffin could tell there was something making him sad as he wasn’t talking a lot after that. So she picked up a packet of gummy bears next time they went shopping and that was the first time Valtor ate gummy bears (and the first time Griffin ate gummy bears ever since those vodka soaked ones) as well as, quite possibly, the last. He wasn’t a fan and tried not to antagonize her about loving them. He made sure to buy her a packet once in a while instead. He also might have gotten her a gummy bear bouquet for her birthday.

- Valtor and Griffin love to train together. There is a fitness room in the penthouse and they do spend some of their together time in there even if Griffin rarely uses any of the equipment in it. She might use the treadmill occasionally but that’s about it. She prefers to do yoga while Valtor does his exercises. Their background music choices might have clashed a little as she basically needs hers to be soothing spiritual music while Valtor prefers more energetic tunes. They solved that with wireless earphones. The matter of getting distracted while watching the other (and even pulling the other into that distraction as well) has been harder to resolve but they love spending time together even when they are both absorbed in their own things and it is only about feeling the silent presence of the other so they keep it up. They even spar together as Valtor used to take martial arts lessons and he might have taught Griffin as well so that they can have all that fun together. You know, pressing each other into walls and pinning each other to the ground. ;) They love their training sessions.

- Bathroom commodities are a bit of a nightmare. Griffin has her vanity - luckily for her because otherwise she wouldn’t have been able to get to a mirror most of the time with Valtor is the way. He is not as much vain as he is a perfectionist and also self-conscious (thanks to his mothers) and he spends ages in front of the mirror. So does Griffin, though hers is more from vanity. Yet, she was the one saying she was surprised Valtor didn’t have mirrors in every room. They still have the regular weekly fight about the bathroom as a lot of the time it looks like one of them is only waiting for the other to come out so that they can go in. It’s a bit frantic in the morning which is a factor in why the bathroom issue is one of their biggest sources of conflict when they are still sleepy and irritable or running late. They also tend to love sharing it when they are truly sharing it, however. Joined bath is one of the most relaxing activities they can imagine, especially when they help each other wash their hair. And it is perfect for cuddling and all that good stuff. ;)

- They have a fireplace in the penthouse that they both love dearly. Valtor finds the crackling of the fire and the warmth soothing and Griffin loves curling up in front of the fireplace with a good book and a cup of tea. Even more so if Valtor is there although most of the time he has paperwork to attend to. She doesn’t mind if she can lean on him and read into the evening. Winter nights have never been cozier or warmer. Though, sometimes the atmosphere turns competitive when they play chess in front of the fireplace. They happen to play other games at times as well but chess is their favorite and the heat of the fire kind of adds to the intensity. It satisfies their craving for theatrics as they are both drama queens so it is certainly a favorite thing of theirs. They even had a “picnic” in front of the fireplace once. It was fun, though they almost managed to push one of the dishes into the fireplace so they had to estimate a safety distance there.

- Griffin bought Valtor pens in different colors to help him color code his schedule and know what is important and what is less so. It was really useful even if Valtor wasn’t really feeling the idea at the beginning. Once it started saving him time that he could spend with her, however, he was quickly on board with it. He’d also use them to draw Griffin pics on stray sheets of paper during the day while he was talking on the phone or having to wait for a document to get sent to him. He really started loving the idea. So much so that he didn’t notice he was signing paperwork with the pink pen until his secretary pointed it out. They had to print out all of it anew and he wasn’t thrilled about having to repeat the whole process. Griffin laughed - very uncharacteristically and unsympathetically of her - when he told her that evening and he wasn’t quite playing offended just to get her kisses. He didn’t mind that part, though, and he did keep the pens since they were useful and made his day somewhat brighter.

- They love to travel when they can. The weekends are usually free and even if that doesn’t leave them a lot of time for long trips, they still love exploring the “local” are. They just grab the car keys and some spare clothes and drive for as long as they can before they have to start coming back or until a town catches their eye. They sometimes pick a destination beforehand, though that is left to luck. Valtor usually lets Griffin pick it as they lay out a map and whatever she points to becomes their destination. It doesn’t really matter where they’ll end up when they are together. They even managed to get a little further away a few times when Valtor hired a private jet. It was a good way to see something new when they’d already explored a lot of the closer places and to add something different in their lives. And even if they had to come back too soon, they still have the memories and those magnets Griffin loves to buy from the places they visit instead of taking photos. Photos of them, at least. They end up with plenty beautiful shots of scenery. And one or two of Griffin when Valtor manages to catch her off guard. She has snapped loads of pics of him, though, as he would even pose for her (and she might have one or two framed in her office at work plus some more in the penthouse).

- Once they were on a date (before they moved in together), Valtor took her to a ferris wheel which stopped working right as they were at the very top. Valtor is still not over the crisis he had back then (nor the fit of rage) but it ended up being Griffin’s favorite date of theirs. Sure, they were stuck for about an hour and she needed to go to the toilet which might have been thanks to the low temperatures and the wind up there that had her freezing, but it wasn’t so bad when Valtor was with her. They watched the stars that they could see despite the city lights and they cuddled into each other for warmth. Well, she cuddled into him as he was still warm like an oven and she wasn’t sure how he was doing it. And of course, cuddling turned into kissing which also got intense. They both had to fix their clothes and button what had been unbuttoned when the wheel started again most unexpectedly. Griffin still looks on that date fondly and Valtor can be swayed into admitting it went quite well considering the circumstances when she reminds him about after the wheel when they were warming up.

That’s about it... Nine points for the 9th... of June. (I have connected the dots. XD)

#winx club #winx griffin #winx valtor #griffin x valtor #covenshipping #sparks of life #trivia #trivia tuesday #emalyn sylvane

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holyfuckthisfishcandrive · 4 years

Text

Broken Glass Diamonds

Word count: 2943

Warnings: Minor Character Death, Blood, Google Translate Spanish

Description: Roman dreamt of becoming a hero for his entire life. Given a chance to fulfil his dream he joins one of the many hero organizations in an attempt to prove himself.

AO3

Roman remembered the first time he saw a super in action vividly even after all these years. He was five back then. Five and naive, with thousand dreams and wishes for his future. Astronaut, cowboy, actor, detective and, of course, like probably every kid his age, superhero.

But the first super he saw wasn't a hero. It was a villain.

The Dragon Witch, people would later call her. Whispering the name in fear that even just mentioning her aloud would summon her.

Roman remembered that they had been at a mall on that day. Mamá had bought them ice cream. For him Chocolate, for Remus Banana and as always they had let the other have a little bit of their own because Mamá liked it when they got along and the combination of both Chocolate and Banana was great.

He remembered almost running into a woman with a floral print dress and stuttering out a 'sorry' and then the glass ceiling collapsed. Shards of glass rained down. People screamed. The flowers on the woman's dress were shredded. New, red ones grew on the bright fabric and she fell to the floor.

Roman looked up.

A giant dragon landed in the food court. It had brown scales and yellow fire puffed from its nostrils.

Remus grabbed him and pulled him back behind a corner and they both peeked out from behind it. Remus didn't let go of his hand. Neither did Roman.

Mamá had told them to stick together if anything happened. To protect each other.

"Un dragón", Remus whispered and Roman couldn't tell if he was excited or scared. "Un dragón verdadero."

The dragon began to shrink and shift until all that was left was a woman with scales on her arms and face and wings standing in the middle of the broken glass.

A few people had fallen. A lot more were hiding just like the twins were.

The Dragon Witch said something. She spoke loudly but Roman couldn't understand her. She was speaking English and using too many words he didn't recognize so that even the few familiar ones sounded foreign in the mass of unknown gibberish.

"Donde esta mamá?" Roman asked. Mamá always told them what the words they couldn't understand meant but now Roman couldn't see her anywhere.

"No lo se," Remus shrugged.

A young man grabbed a roasting spit and ran at the woman with a shout. Her wing hit him before he even reached her. He was thrown through the air and crashed into the wall just next to the twins' hiding spot.

Looking back Roman was pretty sure that at that point he had been in shock.

The young man didn't get up from his position slumped against the wall. Something red tickled over the dark skin of his temple and from his lips.

Police sirens cut through the air suddenly, making Roman jump.

But before the policemen could make it into the building the woman had already turned into a big red dragon and as she flew up towards the hole in the roof thousands of coins and jewellery flew towards her like metal to a magnet and stuck to her body until she was fully cooper and gold. In a twisted way, it was beautiful.

Paramedics checked over the people and at some point, a blanket found its way over the twins' shoulders. They sat on the steps in front of the mall, still holding onto each other, neither having spoken a word since the Dragon Witch had disappeared.

"Donde esta mamá?" Remus asked quietly after a while. His voice shaking.

Roman looked around. There were many people on the steps, most of them crying a few looking for others. Then he spotted a familiar head of black hair pulled up in a bun.

"Mamá!" he called and tried to stand up but his legs gave out underneath him and he plopped back down.

She turned at his voice, spotted them and came running towards them.

"Roman! Remus! Estas herido?" she hugged them close, pulled back and frantically looked them over. "Oh, mis hijos."

"Nosotros estamos bien!" Roman told her and burried his face in her shirt.

For a long time, the three of them just sat there, holding on to each other. Roman wasn't sure when he and Remus had started to cry.

It wasn't a day he liked to think off. It haunted him. To this day, despite being an adult now, he felt anxious in malls and under glass roofs.

Over the years people became less afraid of the Dragon Witch. A hero showed up, calling herself Lauda and fought against the Dragon Witch time and time again. By the time Roman was ten, there were no casualties mentioned on the news anymore and his dream to become a hero himself was cemented even further. When he was thirteen his friends began to talk about how the hero and the villain should hook up and he told them that they were being stupid. A hero and a villain couldn't fall in love.

"Have you watched the news lately? They are sooo gay for each other!" Lauren laughed at him.

He hadn't been watching the news. At least not the fights. Seeing the Dragon Witch still stirred up too many bad memories. Mamá had sent him and Remus to a therapist a few times after the incident but hadn't been able to afford it for long. As soon as Remus and him went to school she had to make the choice between proper meals or therapy and she choose the food.

When the twins were fourteen they presented with abilities. Remus made the rat in the kitchen cabinet obey his every will and Roman burned bright and hot without ever burning himself. Mamá was proud of them, helped them figure out their abilities as well as she could without having one herself and whispered in that she had always known that they were extraordinary.

When Roman turned fifteen he started carrying out newspapers and picking up every job he could cramp into his schedule or that Remus hadn't gotten to first. He lost most of his friends during that time. Both of them did even if Remus hadn't had many friends, to begin with.

"We never hang out anymore!"

"Come on! Come to Henry's party with us! It'll be awesome!"

"You don't do anything besides working and studying!"

Roman always wanted to tell them that that wasn't true. He did have hobbies. He was part of the drama club. He wrote stories and poetry and even sew if you could consider patching up ripped clothes a hobby. He never did though and on Christmas Eve he realized that it was just the three of them again. Him, Remus and Mamá.

But he'd be a hero one day and then things would be different. They'd move into a nice house without mould in the kitchen that never got cold in winter because as bright as he could burn the house could burn too and he knew that that would mean their death, and they'd have a big meal for holidays and he and Remus wouldn't have to put their money together to buy Mamá a nice gift. He'd save peoples lives and they would love him for it.

So he curled up under his blanket, tried not to shiver as snow fell outside and held onto that dream.

Remus move out as soon as they graduated. He only let them know that he had gotten a scholarship somewhere but wouldn't tell either of them where and what for. He let Roman help him pack his bag, hugged him, gave Mamá a kiss on the cheek and then he took the next train to somewhere.

Roman applied himself to the nearest T.L.I.H. program.

"You really want to try out for being a hero?" Mamá had asked and looked so damn tired like she hadn't slept in years.

"Yes, and I will make it", he told her.

Mamá had sighed tiredly but smiled.

"It's supposed to be extremely hard", she just said as if he didn't know.

"I will make it."

When two weeks later a letter came telling him that he had been accepted to the program he couldn't believe it.

200 spots, over 35000 applicants and he had gotten in.

Of the 200 people 10 would become heros at most.

And Roman would be damned if he let this chance slip through his fingers.

He didn't have the money for a gym membership but he and Remus had found ways to work out anyway over the years. After the third fight you begin to learn how to fight.

The T.L.I.H. program started in October and for months Roman did everything in his power to prepare himself.

On October 4th, standing in front of the address they had sent him - a tiny hotel that didn't seem like the right place o train future heroes at all but maybe that was the point - he had nothing but a bag of worn clothes, a crumpled twenty, an old burner phone, an old notebook with a pen and his mothers blessing. His knees felt weak and he couldn't tell whether the nausea was because of nerves or because he hadn't eaten since yesterday.

If this didn't work out he'd have no back-up plan. The chances of being accepted to the program twice were lower than being struck by lightning three times, three years in a row on the same day while wearing the same clothes.

Failure wasn't an option.

Mamá was counting on him.

Roman pushed open the hotel door and made a face when it squeaked loud enough to ring in his ears.

The lobby was grey, lit by two neon lights. One was broken. At the counter, a teen sat, a few years younger than Roman and looked up from re-doing his eyeliner, obviously bored out of his mind. The kid looked like a stereotypical emo. Lauren would have been jealous of that eyeshadow.

"I'm here for the T.L.I.H. program", Roman told him confidently.

"Figured that much", the kid - Julian DiCaprio, according to his nametag - mumbled and his voice sounded slightly too feminine. "Name?"

"Roman. Roman Rodriguez."

Julian tipped around on the ancient computer keyboard, nodded to himself and stood up to get a key off the wall behind him.

"Follow me", he ordered and sauntered towards the elevator like he owned the place.

"I think I can find the room on my own," Roman tried but Julian acted like he couldn't hear him and pressed the 4 a couple of times until the button finally lit up.

"What's your shoe size?" he asked instead catching Roman off guard.

"My- My what?"

"Shoe size. What is it?"

The elevator arrived and slip halfway open. Julian slipped through the gap and Roman followed him.

"I don't know? 18, maybe?"

"Shirt size?"

"Wha- Why do you want to know that?" Roman sputtered. He had the sneaking suspicion the kid was going to make fun of him. He knew that his shirt was too big, damn it.

Julian looked him dead in the eye.

"Do you know how many people get in here just because they're rich? They are pretty good but they never would have reached that level without money. About 90% of the candidates are rich kids according to Mama. Do you know what they will do with you if you show up looking like this? They will tear you apart like chickens."

Roman was quiet for a moment.

"Chickens aren't threatening," he then said. "They only eat seeds and worms."

"Wrong. They eat anything. Once saw a few chicken tear apart a steak in under a minute. They are mini dinosaurs, those feathery beasts."

Roman frowned and looked down at his stained and torn jeans.

"Few years ago a guy showed up looking like that," Julian continued. "He was good. Could control gravity. Heart in the right spot. They drove him to attempt suicide within half a year. Mama doesn't want that to happen again so she makes sure that people like you get something presentable. If you don't know your sizes we'll just have to measure."

A tiny smile spread over Julian's black lips at the last few words.

"Do you like measuring out?" Roman asked.

"With guys," Julian said and the elevator finally came to a stop. "Most of you are ripped as fuck and I'm gay as hell."

Roman hummed in acknowlegement.

"How did you know I wouldn't beat you up for that?" he asked following Julian down the hallway.

Julian looked back for a moment, eyes wandering down and then up again.

"I have awesome gaydar. Besides, I doubt Mama would've let you in if you did that."

"Who is your mother?" Roman asked. She must be an important person to be able to make all those decisions.

"Wouldn't you like to know, weather boy?"

Roman raised an eyebrow as Julius unlocked one of the many doors.

"Really? Quoting Vines?"

Julius shrugged and let Roman into the hotel room.

It was just as shabby as the rest of the hotel but warmer than his room at home and there were no bugs so he could deal with it.

"Here's your key. I'll just go and get the measuring tape," Julius told him and disappeared again.

Roman watched him go. When he entered the elevator again Roman went to unpack his stuff, as little as it was and called Mamá to tell her that he had made it safely. She always got anxious when it came to anyone using the subway and he didn't want her to drive herself crazy.

Julius came back a little later, made Roman write down whatever he measured, took the paper and studied it for a moment before doing that thing again that Roman was pretty sure was Julius' way of checking him out.

"You like floral prints?" he then asked.

Roman shrugged. "I've never worn anything like that."

Julius nodded in acknowledgement.

"I'll get you a few things to try. You can just pick out what you like then. Oh, and before I forget, dinner is at eight on the second floor. There are signs, so you should be able to find it just fine."

Roman glanced at the clock over the door. He still had over an hour. Taking a seat on the bed he pulled out his notebook and began to write. For almost half an hour he wrote and rewrote, completely sunken into the story, before someone knocked again.

He opened the door to Julius and another young man who looked a bit older than Roman. Roman found himself staring at the left half of his face that was a lot darker than the other. Both were carrying two bags each.

Julius pushed past Roman and set the bags down on the bed, his companion doing the same before checking his phone and cursing.

"Fucking hell, I'm gonna be late," he sent a glare over to Julius. "This is the last time I help you with this stuff!"

Then he hurried down the hallway.

"Sorry about my brother. He's trying to start a company or something and really stressed lately," Julius told Roman. "Anyway. You can try on this stuff if you want to, the things you don't want you can just bring down to the counter. If I'm not there just put it under the key wall, okay?"

He didn't wait for an answer and closed the door behind himself forcefully.

For a moment Roman just stood there, stunned, before he slowly moved over to the bed.

He picked out the first shirt and pants he found and pulled them on. A black shirt with red flowers and dark jeans. It fit perfectly. He looked at himself in the bathroom mirror and realized with a start just how different he looked wearing it. He looked like a damn model or something, with his muscles faintly visible and the rolled-up sleeves. The fabric was soft against his skin.

He looked handsome.

Roman looked through the other bags, looked through all these nice clothes and wondered just how much money Julius had spent on this stuff. He couldn't find a price tag anywhere but guessed that it must've been at least 200$.

So, he brought it back down to the counter.

Julius was painting his nails as he came down and raised an eyebrow.

"Something wrong with them?" he asked.

"I can't take this."

Julius' eyebrow crept higher.

"Why not?"

"This stuff is worth a fortune! I could never pay you back for this!"

"You're not supposed to," Julius said calmly and checked if the paint on his pinky was dry. "Look, just take it. It's a gift. No one ever teach you that you're not supposed to give gifts back? Now go back up. Dinner's soon. And don't you dare leave the clothes here."

Roman wanted to argue but Julius sent him a glare and he gave up.

"Fine, I'll take it."

Part of Roman had expected the dining room to be full of others like him but when he came down a few minutes before eight the only other people were a punk couple and an old lady.

A young woman distributed potato soup with sausage at a small counter. Compared to the rest of the hotel it was completely clean here.

Roman ate, watched the punks flirt for a bit ("I'd dismantle the government for you.") and went back up to his room, where he soon fell into a deep dreamless sleep.

#sanders sides #roman sanders #remus sanders #sympathetic remus #dragon witch #my writing #background deceit #background virgil #you can rip spanish roman from my cold dead hands #all the world will bow down series

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find-the-eyes · 5 years

Text

I’ll Try Anything Once, Chapter 47

Written by: Sol, Allegra, Beth Edited by: Sol, Allegra, Beth

Alex didn’t know if Nick had ever properly celebrated a holiday. Sure, Nick had mentioned getting gifts for Christmas and dressing up for Halloween in passing, but Alex was never sure just how legit his celebrations were. Most of what Nick talked about felt sad, almost— Alex wasn’t sure how it would feel to have his childhood memories invalidated in front of him, so he tried to listen and relate as much as he could. Holidays were no exception.

Whether or not Nick had ever actually celebrated Christmas, Alex was determined to make the day special. He thought about all of his favorite foods he ate on Christmas Day back home, and tried to make a list of which ones could be cooked in the flat, and a list of those that Nick would like.

After a few minutes of quiet reflection, Alex realized he was still sitting on the beanbag chair and should be doing chores and figuring out Christmas dinner before Nick woke up and needed help. He stood and stretched, grabbing his phone off the nightstand and heading out to the living room. His mother made the best spanakopita in the world (in his opinion) and he wanted to give Nick a taste of Christmas in Greece.

Alex still felt terrible for not going home. His family was always extremely close and he was the only one who had left the country permanently. But he couldn't leave Nick, and he couldn't take Nick with him, so that was that. Alex dialed his home phone number and waited.

“Alex!” His mother answered the phone cheerily.

“Hi, mum. Happy Christmas Eve.”

“It’s so nice to talk to you! How is everything?”

"Uhh, I'm alright," Alex said, not ready to give her an update on Nick's condition. "So, I wanted to make your spanakopita for tomorrow, but--"

"Oh!!" As soon as Alex mentioned his favorite food from back home, his mother began listing ingredients. He scrambled to find a stray scrap of paper to write them down on.

Five minutes later, after she had rattled off the ingredients, the steps, and every secret trick that she knew to make the pie perfect, Alex's mother let out a sigh. "Got all that?"

"I think so," Alex said, biting the cap of his pen. "Thanks, mum."

"Of course, dear. How's Nick, by the way?"

At this, Alex could feel himself tense up. Nick was supposedly asleep in the other room, but Alex always felt nervous talking about him. He was clueless as to what Nick could and couldn’t hear, or if he was even asleep at all.

“He’s doing better,” Alex finally decided to say, “but the doctor hasn’t cleared him yet. He still has a long way to go until he’s all the way better.”

"Cleared him for what?"

Alex clenched his teeth, remembering that he hadn't actually told his mother what had happened. "Cleared him to breathe on his own. Without the ventilator."

"He's using a ventilator?! Alex, you never told me!" The worried tone of his mother's voice made Alex feel terrible. "What happened to him?"

"He jumped off the stage at a gig and hit the barrier the wrong way and injured his lung." The memory of it made Alex shut his eyes and shudder. "But he's getting a lot better, and he can go without the ventilator for meals and stuff."

“That’s… alarming. But it’s good to hear that he’s recovering.”

“Yeah. I should probably go check on him; he’s still asleep…”

“Oh, well.. I guess I’ll talk to you later. I hope everything goes well. Tell Nick I said to feel better.”

Alex laughed softly, “Alright, mum. Love you.”

Alex snuck back into Nick’s room to find him still asleep. He went to the side of Nick’s bed and stroked his hair. Nick grabbed Alex’s arm and pulled on it. Oh. Bad dream.

Avoiding crushing Nick, Alex hopped over him and got under the blankets. Nick immediately hugged Alex with his entire body, even tangling his legs with Alex’s. Alex smiled slightly as Nick continued to cuddle him. Even when he was scared or asleep, or both, Nick was so good at cuddling.

Nick was eventually startled out of his dream. He wiggled a bit, and then found Alex again.

“Good morning,” Alex smiled as Nick held onto him.

A few hours later, after tidying up the flat, Alex decided it was time to get to work on making the best Christmas meal Nick would ever have.

“Want to come to the store with me, Nick?” Alex asked as he flopped down next to Nick on the sofa.

NIck shook his head frantically, not wanting anyone to see him in the state he was in. Seeing Julian a few days ago had been enough interaction. He didn’t want to upset anyone else with his condition. He didn’t want any more pitying glances and mumbles of ‘feel better.’

“Oh… are you sure? Maybe it would be good to get out of the flat for a bit…”

“I’m sure,” Nick said softly. He missed being outside, but the thought of leaving the flat terrified him. No one could see him like this.

“Yeah, I guess that’s alright. It would be sneaking out, after all, and maybe we’d run into someone from the hospital who knows you’re not allowed to be out,” Alex rambled, trying to stop himself from worrying about Nick. “Want anything specific from the store?”

“An ice lolly?”

“Nick, it’s December!”

“Please?”

Alex looked at Nick to find him staring at him, his blue eyes wide and full of love. “Fine, I’ll buy you ice lollies. What flavor?”

“Cherry.”

“Alright,” Alex laughed to himself as he got up. “Want anything else?”

Nick shook his head. “Just ice lollies.”

“See you later, then. Call if you need anything.”

—

Alex came back an hour later, smelling like winter air and feeling like it too. Nick picked up his ventilator and wobbled to him to help assess the items he had brought home.

“Ice lollies!” Nick laughed, surprised that Alex had actually listened to his request. He also saw hot cocoa mix on the counter and did a tiny fist pump to himself.

“I got marshmallows, too!” Alex wiggled the bag of marshmallows in front of Nick’s face.

“Marshmallows!” Nick grabbed the bag and clutched it to his chest. Alex laughed and wrapped his arms around Nick.

"How would you like to go on a date?" Alex asked, retrieving the bag of marshmallows with one hand and resting his other hand on Nick's hip.

"A...date?" Nick's expression brightened, then immediately fell. "But I can't...go out."

"Yeah! A date right here in the flat!" Alex placed the bag on the counter and slipped his now-free hand onto Nick's other hip, holding him close. "A hot cocoa and cuddling date! We can watch a movie and I'll make you dinner later. How does that sound?"

Nick’s eyes lit up as he nodded and hugged Alex. “It sounds… good. Really good!”

Alex smiled back and kissed Nick's forehead. "Let me just get some things ready, okay?" Nick nodded, unable to hide the grin behind his mask. He followed Alex into the kitchen and retrieved an ice lolly from the freezer.

Alex followed all the steps his mother had told him, taking care to use exact measurements of everything. He wanted to make the pie perfect for Nick. Nick had offered to help in any way he could, but Alex simply waved him off and told him to relax. So Nick did. His mask lay on the table before him as he savored the ice lolly and watched Alex work. Nick smiled to himself at how focused Alex was.

"What movie do you want to watch?" Alex asked as he finished chopping the spinach and poured it into the pan on the stove.

"Oh...I don't know... I'll watch anything," Nick said with a shrug. Alex frowned. Nick never really made decisions for himself, did he? He just went along with whatever Alex (or anyone else) said. Alex flipped on the burner and waited for the pan to warm up to saute the spinach and onions.

"Come on, you must have an idea of what you want!" Alex said cheerily, hoping Nick would actually make a decision. Nick only made a vague noise and focused on his ice lolly. Alex suppressed a sigh and turned his attention back to the food. That conversation would have to wait for another time.

Once the pie was fully prepared, Alex placed it in the fridge to be baked later. "Want to go out to the sofa and I'll make us our hot cocoa?" Nick, who had finished eating and placed the mask back on his face, nodded vigorously. He stood up and slowly made his way back to the living room, wobbling with each step but managing to keep himself upright.

Alex made the cocoa and tossed a few marshmallows on top of each mug. He carefully placed them on the coffee table and sat down on the couch before immediately jumping back up. "Ah, one more thing!" He dashed off to his bedroom, leaving Nick to stare down the hall in confusion. Alex returned a moment later with a silver-and-red-striped parcel and a grin on his face. "Merry Christmas!"

Nick froze for a moment - Alex had gotten him a gift? He blinked and took the package, running his hands over the wrapping paper. He wasn't used to people doing nice things for him, and he certainly hadn't expected or wanted anything. A wave of guilt washed over him - he hadn't gotten anything for Alex. He never had, in all the months that they had known each other.

"Open it!" Alex bounced up and down on the couch beside him. Nick ripped the paper and out fell a fluffy, multicolored blanket.

Nick's eyes lit up as he held the blanket up against his face. "It’s so soft!"

Alex smiled. "It is! I know how much you like blankets and soft things so I had to get this for you when I saw it! And I thought we could use it now!"

"Yeah," Nick replied, smiling, though he could feel his anxiety building. "Thank you," he said quietly, laying his head on Alex's shoulder.

Alex draped the blanket over Nick and giggled. "Of course, love. Let me put the DVD in and I'll be right back." Once the movie was set up, Alex wriggled beneath the blanket next to Nick and wrapped an arm around him. Nick relaxed into Alex's touch.

As he tried to stay focused on the movie, Nick’s mind kept wandering to the fact that he hadn’t gotten a gift for Alex. There had to be something he could scrape up for him. Would Alex understand that Nick wasn’t able to buy a present? Was he even expecting a gift from someone who couldn’t leave their flat?

As the credits rolled, Alex realized that Nick had tensed up again and looked down at him. “Is everything alright?”

"Yeah..."

“You like your gift?”

Nick ran his fingers along the edge of the blanket. “I love it… I just… I should have… gotten you something.”

“Nick, you’ve been stuck in the flat for a month! It’s fine!”

Nick didn't really have an answer for that. Alex was right. Even if Nick wanted to get him a gift, there was no way he could have done it without Alex taking him somewhere. Nick sighed. This whole being dependent thing was getting old. Just then, Nick realized what he could give Alex.

“I’m going to go put the pie in the oven, okay?” Alex asked. Before he could even stand up, Nick shifted forward on the couch out of Alex's arms, much to Alex's surprise.

"I'll be right back," Nick said, standing up unsteadily and slowly walking to his room.

Alex frowned, wondering what Nick was possibly up to. He switched off the DVD player and headed into the kitchen, hesitant to interrupt whatever Nick was doing. As soon as Alex had finished with the pie and made his way to the living room doorway, Nick stumbled out of his bedroom, guitar in one hand and ventilator in the other.

It was supposed to be a surprise, Nick sighed to himself as he steadily returned to the living room. Nick made his way back to the couch and plopped down. He pulled off his mask and tossed it onto the floor.

"Nick? What are you--"

Nick pulled a pick out of his pocket and looked over at Alex with a smile. "I wrote you a song," he said softly.

“When did you have time to do that?”

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while…”

Alex nodded intently, waiting to see what Nick would play for him.

“It’s called ‘Dream Again,’ I mean… it’s a working title, but… it’s based on some weird fever dreams I had when I was hospitalized…” Nick readjusted the guitar in his lap. “I was scared most of the time when you weren’t there. But sometimes… they were comforting. Like my brain trying to calm me down.”

“Oh…” was all that Alex could manage. He reached out and gave Nick’s hand a squeeze, and that was all the encouragement Nick needed.

He took as deep a breath as he could and began to sing quietly, his voice shaky. "Don't be afraid if you're descending...the sweetest despair...without a handrail to guide you…"

Alex stared at Nick, transfixed. Nick squeezed his eyes shut and focused on pouring all of his energy into the song.

"Sometimes the sound of a thousand whispering words...of hope will reassure...show me the future…" Nick opened his eyes and looked at Alex. "Will see us join together...if the oceans split or the mountains sigh...then I will keep on dreaming…" Nick's voice was weak and trembling. "I live to dream again...I live to dream--" Nick coughed suddenly, a deep rumble in his chest, and began to wheeze. Alex instinctively reached up to rub his back, then leaned down and grabbed Nick's mask when Nick couldn't get his breathing under control.

It took only a few moments for Nick’s breathing to come back to normal. He laid the guitar down on the floor and tossed his pick down with a sigh. Alex could sense Nick’s frustration at being unable to finish the song, so Alex wrapped his arms around Nick and began peppering small kisses on his forehead, his cheeks, his neck. Nick closed his eyes, desperate to kiss Alex back, but instead settled on running his fingers through Alex’s hair and rubbing one hand up and down Alex’s back.

Alex pulled away slightly after a while and gave Nick a gentle squeeze. “That was amazing. I’m so proud of how far you’ve come. You’re amazing, you know that?”

Nick looked deeply into Alex’s eyes, unable to believe how fortunate he was to find someone like him.

“I love you.” Alex almost didn’t hear Nick’s quiet voice over the sound of his ventilator.

“I love you too.” Alex leaned back into their embrace and pressed a lingering kiss on Nick’s forehead, until the oven’s alarm began to beep.

“Pie’s ready!” Alex pressed one more kiss onto Nick’s forehead and went to the kitchen. “I’ll be right back.”

Nick watched as Alex made the final preparations for dinner. A small smile was hidden behind his mask as he felt the butterflies fly around in his stomach.

(with special thanks to this video for the inspiration ♥)

#franz ferdinand #allfanfic #illtryanythingonce

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pug-bitch · 5 years

Text

That’s not why I’m going (21)

Time to let go

Book: The Royal Romance

Pairing: Drake Walker x Amara Suarez

Rating: some foul language, some extremely suggestive, and a VERY steamy scene. This is absolutely NOT appropriate for people under 18.

Word count: 3,875 (let me know if the ‘keep reading’ cutoff isn’t working well!)

Notes: This starts the next morning, after the big Bastien reveal, at breakfast, with Amara’s POV.

*****

Amara was anxiously waiting for Drake’s reaction, after giving him the flip phone the next morning. The gang--Drake, Amara, Max, Hana, and Olivia--had met after breakfast, once everyone had left. They didn’t have any events that evening, so they all decided to stay put at Ramsford.

‘So? What do you say?’ Amara asks Drake, all the while glancing at Olivia.

Drake shakes his head, his face reddening. ‘What the hell. I can’t believe he would betray--’

‘Calm the fuck down, Walker,’ Olivia said placidly. ‘Getting angry won’t solve it. I know you like your little substitute Daddy, but let’s be honest here, he’s not exactly the most fun dude in history.’

‘Olivia, he’s not a dad substitute, he’s a family friend. I trusted him. Don’t you understand?’

Amara steps in. ‘We do understand, Drake. What is really crucial now, is that you don’t talk to him about it. We have no further proof than him disposing of the phone. He could have been doing this on behalf of someone else, and if we talk to him, he may report us.’

Drake takes a deep breath and nods. ‘You’re right. Sorry. I won’t say anything.’

‘Good. We’ll keep an eye out for anything suspicious, but unfortunately, for now, there is nothing else we can do. When we see Bastien again tomorrow though, all of us should be on our guard. We need to have him within eyesight at all times to see who he talks to, and if he gets another burner phone. Besides that...nothing we can control.’ Amara continues. ‘Hana, how are you doing, sweetie?’

The young woman plasters on a big smile. Fake it til you make it, Amara thinks. ‘I’m okay, thanks Amara. I...haven’t received anything from my parents, so I’m assuming the news still hasn’t gone international. But I’ve made a decision.’

Everyone looks at Hana expectantly.

She continues, ‘I’m gonna own up to it. I need to talk to Liam about how to go about it, because I don’t want to hijack his social season, of course. But this whole ordeal just showed me that it’s time.’

Amara reaches across the table and takes Hana’s hand in hers. ‘You sure, babe?’

Hana nods. ‘Yes. I’m 28 years old, it’s time I took my life in my own hands. Plus, seeing this picture of Caroline again…’ she blushes, and takes a sip of her coffee.

Amara looks at Drake, and they exchange a brief smile. ‘Caroline, the woman on the picture?’ Amara asks.

Hana nods. ‘We were together in college, at Oxford. For almost three years. I broke up with her when I went back to China after we graduated. I...couldn’t be honest about her to my parents.’

Max chimes in, ‘Do you regret it?’

‘I do. I know she’s probably forgotten about me now, but I haven’t. It doesn’t matter, though. All it means is, I’m ready now. I’m gonna come out.’

*****

Amara and Drake sit on the balcony, the only two remaining after everyone is gone. Drake is stroking her hair, taking in the view as they sip their coffee in comfortable silence.

‘I missed you last night,’ he finally says.

She smiles. ‘So did I… that’s why I couldn’t sleep. Hence the late night phone rescue mission.’

Drake chuckles. He shouldn’t laugh at that. He was still upset at Bastien’s betrayal, but as Amara said, nothing they could do now. ‘Productive. Did you get any sleep after?’

Amara puts her mug down, looks around, and gets even closer to Drake. She whispers, ‘No. I looked at the employee files from Bertrand. You know, to find the account number that receives the monthly money.’

‘Did you find it?’

She nods. ‘Yup. Does the name Albert Saunier ring a bell?’

Drake gasps. Albert was well known around court. ‘That’s their accountant. He does the books for the Beaumonts, and did my parents’ taxes, too.’

Amara nods again. ‘Well. I guess he found a way to get around the books.’

‘Fuck,’ Drake whispers. ‘I can’t believe he’s scamming them. That’s it? That’s why they’re broke?’

‘I don’t know, though. That’s too simple, right?’ Amara takes another sip of coffee. Drake can’t help but notice how beautiful she looks in the sunlight. She continues. ‘I mean, Bertrand keeps receipts for everything, and I mean EVERYTHING, Drake. He buys a new shirt, he puts the receipt in his files. Batteries, even, he documents. How could he not notice? It’s the same amount, a considerable one, every month. It goes to the same account, but with various pretend purposes. Most of them upkeep of the estate. Bertrand would know if any work was being done around Ramsford.’

Drake nods. Unable to resist, he closes in the distance between himself and Amara and captures her lips in a passionate kiss. She kisses him back, and they sit there, tangled, for a while.

Breathlessly, Amara smiles. ‘What was that for?’

‘You’re hot when you’re investigating.’

‘Well, get used to it, Walker, because this is only the beginning.’

‘I guess I’m gonna have to learn to keep it in my pants, then.’

She smirks. ‘No, that’s not what I meant,’ she says before kissing him again, deeper this time. Drake’s blood runs hot through his veins. He pulls Amara closer, until she’s straddling his lap, still kissing him.

‘Wow,’ she says as they catch their breath. ‘We should stop. With everything that’s happening…’

Drake nods. Of course she’s right. But it doesn’t make it ok. He wishes he could whisk her away for the night, but he knows her too well: she won’t want to leave Hana in this trying time, and deep down, Drake doesn’t either. He doesn’t protest when Amara gets up from his lap and gets back to her chair, even though all he wants to do is hold her back and kiss her more. They’re gonna have to be careful, he knows that. But he doesn’t know how long he can pull that off.

‘Hey guys,’ Olivia’s voice interrupts them, as she comes back to the balcony, frantically looking everywhere. ‘Did you see my phone by any chance?’

Amara shakes her head. ‘No, I don’t think so. Where did you last see it?’

‘I thought I’d left it in my room but it’s not there. Maybe I brought it down with me.’ She looks around some more, and quickly gives up. ‘Oh well. I must not have looked hard enough upstairs. What’s everyone up to today?’

Drake shrugs. ‘I don’t know. Nothing is planned at court until tomorrow’s brunch with the King and Queen, so I guess we’re free to do whatever.’

Olivia smirks. ‘Look at you, Walker, abiding by the rules of court. If anyone is interested, I’ll be in the Beaumont armory this afternoon. I want to see the goods.’

She waves and walks away. Drake locks eyes with Amara, and they both laugh heartily. ‘Oh Liv,’ Amara says. ‘Only she would call antique weaponry ‘the goods’.’

‘Heh. True. Well, if you want to go visit the armory, I’ll go with you. It could be fun.’

The truth is, Drake could not care less about seeing the weapons. He had seen them countless times already. All he wants is to spend time with Amara. She seems to catch on and responds ‘I’d like that. But before that, I’d like to make a couple of phone calls to France. I found single mom support associations in Paris and daycare facilities that I’d like to call.’

Damn, Drake thinks. She never stops. He kisses her hand and holds it in his for a long time, until Maxwell comes to interrupt them, and Amara leaves to go investigate in her room.

*****

‘Merci beaucoup, Madame. J’apprécie votre aide, vraiment. Bonne journée à vous.’

Amara hangs up and looks at the time. Two hours she just spent, calling people to ask about Savannah. Two minutes ago, she had lost hope. No one knew anyone by that name, until she called this one association for young moms in the 10th arrondissement, very close to the bank in which Savannah had opened her account. The woman had hesitated at first, but Amara knew how to make people trust her. Whenever they had to get a difficult testimony, Jamie would always let her lead. She was the younger one, and that helped, but she was also gentler, and at heart a people person. The woman on the phone let go of her guard very easily.

She looks at the address she just jotted down on her notebook. This could be it.

She is startled by a sharp knock on her door. Quickly, she tucks the notebook under her iPad. ‘Come in!’

Bertrand lets himself in, a serious smile on his face. ‘Hello, Lady Amara. How are you doing?’

‘I’m good, how are you?’

‘Great. I wanted to personally greet you, and make sure you are recovering from the scandal from last night. I just spoke to Lady Hana, she looks determined to take matters into her own hands.’

‘Yes, she is very strong,’ Amara adds. ‘She’ll be ok. And I’m fine. I just would like to know who is doing this to her.’

She watches Bertrand intently, hoping not to see anything suspicious in his eyes. He fumbles a bit, still unreadable, until he finally responds, ‘Well, yes, I would like to know as well. A good woman such as Lady Hana, who would want to tarnish her reputation?’

Amara, ticked off, frowns. ‘What do you mean, tarnish? There’s nothing wrong with the picture that was sent. That’s not what’s wrong. What is wrong is that her choice was taken from her, her choice to come out or not.’

Bertrand blushes and loses his smile for a bit. ‘Of course. That’s what I meant. Of course.’ He pauses for a long time. ‘In any case, I’m assuming she will withdraw from the competition. Or, at the very least, be ineligible. Which, as bad as this sounds, is a plus for us.’

Amara had almost forgotten about Bertrand’s vested interest in her victory. She forces a smile. Now is not the time for breaking the façade. ‘Sure.’

A smile illuminates Bertrand’s face. ‘Great. I’ve arranged for a one-on-one between you and Prince Liam tomorrow, after the brunch. He said he’ll take you for a walk if the weather is nice.’

Great, Amara thinks. Thankfully, Liam seems to have calmed down since Hana-gate, and she didn’t feel as threatened by him anymore. Still, this was a bummer. ‘Thank you, Duke Ramsford. I appreciate it.’

He nods and turns around. Against her better judgment, Amara catches herself calling him back into the room. ‘Bertrand?’

He turns back and says, ‘Yes?’

For some reason, she cannot stop herself from talking. Maybe it’s the excitement from almost cracking the Savannah case. Maybe it’s just because she’s lost her police manners. ‘You put a lot of emphasis on reputation, right?’

Bertrand’s eyes lose focus for a split second, and he fixes his posture. ‘Well of course. When you are part of the nobility, you have a duty to protect your house’s reputation.’

‘Sure. I get that. Would you say you’d do anything to protect it, though?’

Bertrand scoffs. ‘Everything within the limits of decency, yes. Why is that, Lady Amara?’

Amara gives him a feeble smile. She truly cannot stop herself. She has to know if the man she has been trusting has been lying to everyone. ‘No reason. I was just wondering if buying someone off would be within the limits of decency.’

Bertrand’s face reddens. ‘What? What in the world are you talking about?’

‘Nothing. Just wondering why you’re always worried about your finances, and always saying House Beaumont is broke. Could it be the price of your reputation?’

Bertrand looks as if he may explode. ‘I’m not going to even grant this with a response. As you pointed out, Lady Amara, I do not have the financial means to kick you out, because we need your participation. But let me tell you, young lady, you are on thin ice. What you’re insinuating…’

‘Wow, Bertrand, I’m like 5 years younger than you. Calm down. Can we talk frankly? I’m not gonna do anything. I just want the truth.’

She notices that Bertrand’s hands are shaking. ‘What do you want?’

Suddenly, she feels terribly about making him feel this way, but she truly cannot stop herself. She has uncovered a secret, now she has to go all the way. ‘I want to know why Albert Saunier is getting the same amount of money from you every month.’

From red, Bertrand’s face turns white almost immediately. ‘How...how on Earth…?’

So, he knows. He’s not being scammed, he is completely aware of this mysterious transaction. ‘It doesn’t matter. Why are you paying him off? This amount is a lot bigger than just his wages, Bertrand. Are you buying his services for something? His silence, maybe?’

His face falls. ‘This doesn’t concern you. Now please, whatever you’ve been doing, stop it. My brother doesn’t need any more silly ideas implanted in his head. Let’s forget about this conversation.’

He turns around, hesitates for a couple of seconds with his hand on the doorknob, but finally turns it and leaves. Amara sits there, breathless, for a few minutes. He may be right. This doesn’t concern her, not really. But she’s come to really love these people, especially Maxwell, whom she considers like a brother. If Bertrand is hiding something from him, she wants to help him find out.

She takes a deep breath. She’ll figure all of this out later. For now, she wants to tell Drake about her new Savannah findings.

She knocks on his door, and he tells her to come in. She finds him lying on his bed, reading a book. ‘Hey Suarez,’ he says, his face lighting up as she comes in.

‘Hey Walker. Do you have a minute?’

‘For you, always.’

He gets up, peeks his head in the hallway to make sure no one is around, and locks the door. He approaches his window and closes the blinds, too. Amara smiles, watching him. She can’t help but think he’s both adorable and sexy, caring about their privacy, all the while hoping she is here to have sex with him. It’s true that she did not come with this particular agenda, but seeing him in this plain white T-shirt, his hair gently tousled from his reading position… maybe the privacy is an added bonus.

But first, the investigation. ‘I found something. On Savannah, potentially.’

Drake’s eyes widen. ‘Really?’

‘Yeah,’ Amara responds while sitting on his bed. He sits right next to her, and remains silent while he waits for more information. ‘I called a bunch of places, and no luck. But this one association… They have a Savannah, who has a one-year-old. The lady says she comes once every couple of weeks for a mom support group. They have a daycare on the premises but she told me the little boy has never stayed there. He comes along for group, but the mom doesn’t leave him there. The lady doesn’t even know the kid’s name. But the place is in the 10th arrondissement, which makes sense geographically, and Drake...this girl told them she was called Savannah Lemarcheur. Do you know what that means?’

Drake’s eyes widen some more. ‘Does that mean…?’

Amara nods excitedly. ‘Yup. It means Walker in French.’

*****

Drake can’t believe that Amara pulled it off. She did tell him that nothing was certain, she just has an address and still has to work on finding a phone number, but it’s a solid lead, and that’s more than anyone has found in the past two years.

‘Thank you, Amara. Thank you for doing all of this...for me.’ He cups her cheeks in his hands and places a soft kiss on her lips.

‘Of course I want to do this for you, Drake. I’m glad I can help. I hope I find her…’

She kisses him back, deeper this time. He doesn’t want to rush her, he knows she is worried about this climate of fear, worried about them getting caught.

But she doesn’t seem to be too worried right now. Before he realizes it, she is straddling him again, just as they had left off outside, earlier. Her kiss is more pressing, and he feels his pants get extremely tight. He lets out a moan as she pulls his T-shirt above his head.

Her hands roam all over his chest, and he cannot resist any longer, he has to feel closer to her, without the constraints of her clothes getting in the way. Still tangled in a kiss, he has trouble cracking the code of her dress, and his hands look for the answer all over her chest and back. Finally, he finds the zipper right under her arm, and undoes it quickly. She swiftly removes both her straps, leaving her in a cream lace bra, which compliments her olive skin.

‘Fuck, you’re so beautiful,’ he whispers into their kiss.

She lifts herself up and expertly unzips Drake’s pants, which he promptly removes, along with his boxers. He then slides Amara’s panties to the side and teases her already wet entrance with the length of his cock. She rubs herself onto him, almost taking him in with each stroke. Once they both cannot wait any longer, Amara takes Drake’s throbbing penis in her hand and guides him towards her slit. As he goes in, they both gasp slightly, still deeply enmeshed in their kiss.

*****

Amara is still smiling uncontrollably as she zips her dress back up. It had felt like two months since they’ve slept apart, even though it had only been one night. Still, this little late morning escapade was most welcome.

She looks at Drake, who is pulling up his jeans, a smile also adorning his face. ‘You’re gorgeous, Suarez,’ he says.

‘So are you, Walker.’ She gets closer to him and captures his lips in a kiss, before heading out. It will be lunch time soon, and now that Bertrand is back, he won’t appreciate them being late.

Bertrand. Amara had already forgotten how harsh she’d been with him. She debates telling Drake about their conversation, but changes her mind. She doesn’t know enough, yet.

She leaves discreetly, and heads towards the outdoors patio, where they will serve lunch soon. She wonders if she’s been too mean to Bertrand. After all, the payments had been going on for as long as she could tell, months, probably years even. There was very little chance this was linked to the Hana leak, but she could not be 100% sure until she had more information.

When she arrives outside, her friends are already at the table, having what looks like lemonade but what was probably something alcoholic, judging from Hana’s giggle. Still, it felt good to hear her friend laugh again.

‘Hey Amara!’ Hana calls her over excitedly. ‘We’re having Beaumont Lemonade. It’s lemonade, but with vodka and limoncello. Have one!’

Amara smiles and nods. Max pours her a drink, which she tastes right away. The Beaumont Lemonade is definitely the best lemonade she’s ever tasted.

She sits down in front of Hana and next to Olivia, who is texting furiously. ‘Hey Liv, you little millennial, you found your phone?’

‘Hm? Yeah, I did,’ Liv absentmindedly responds. ‘It was on my bed all along, I guess. Those lemonades are good, Beaumont.’

‘Oh thanks,’ Maxwell says, ‘I invented them. Amara, where’s Drake? I’ll go get the salad and the sandwiches when he comes down. Bertrand isn’t feeling well, he won’t join us for lunch.’

Amara blushes. Damn, that might be her fault. ‘Oh, that’s too bad. Drake’s upstairs, he’s coming down soon.’

‘You mean he just went down and now he’s coming down?’ Olivia smirks, finally putting her phone down.

Hana bursts into laughter. ‘Haha, that was hilarious, Olivia! Good one!’

‘Thanks, Lee. Maybe slow down on the vodka, girl.’

Hana shrugs. ‘Why would I? I finally feel good again. I talked to Liam on the phone and we’re meeting tomorrow to discuss a time for me to come out publicly. I feel good, guys.’

She clinks her glass to Amara’s, and Maxwell cheers. ‘Woo! Hana, you’re the best. Oh look, here comes Drake.’

‘Not the first time he’s come today,’ Olivia smirks again.

‘Hahaha, you’re on fire, Olivia!’ Hana yelps, holding out her hand for Liv to high five her. Liv complies, shrugging, but Amara can see a hint of a satisfied smile on the corner of her lips.

‘Hey guys,’ Drake smiles, ‘what are we drinking?’

‘Your fave summer drink, my friend,’ Max says while pouring him a glass.

‘A Beaumont Lemonade?’ Drake exclaims. ‘Score.’

*****

After lunch, everyone lingers on the patio for some more drinks and a game of cards, while two staff members take the plates away. Amara excuses herself, guaranteeing her friends that she will be back for the second round of cards.

She approaches Bertrand’s study, knowing very well that he is there. No way is he feeling sick for real, not after their conversation. He clearly did not want to face her, and she understands why.

She’s been thinking about reasons why Bertrand might need to pay someone off. She’s been replaying their previous conversation in her head. The devastation on his face when she suggested he’d been buying Albert’s silence. The way he winced when Amara talked about Hana’s choice being ripped from her. What Bertrand had said about reputation.

Amara wasn’t sure, but there was a good chance that she was right about Bertrand’s secret.

She knocks on the door of the study, and nothing.

She waits, and knocks again. ‘It’s Amara,’ she says softly. ‘I came to apologize.’

She hears a cough, and then Bertrand says ‘Come in, Lady Amara.’

She obliges. Here he is, sitting at his desk, his back very straight, although obviously he had just fixed his posture. She can tell that he’d been slouching at his desk, from the pile of documents that are scattered around, as if he’d been taking a nap in them. His eyes are red.

‘Are you ok?’ she asks.

He clears his throat again. ‘Close the door, please.’

She closes the door behind her and gets closer to the desk. She puts her hand on the chair opposite Bertrand, and meets his eyes. He quickly nods, signaling that she may sit down.

‘Bertrand, I’m sorry for what I said earlier.’

He looks down. ‘Apology accepted.’

‘Thank you. You were right, I was out of line.’ Bertrand nods, still not looking up. ‘But I was also right about some things, wasn’t I?’

He does not look surprised. He knows she’s here to apologize, but also to get the truth. ‘You were,’ he says solemnly.

Amara nods. ‘Bertrand, it’s ok. I get it.’

He scoffs, but not in an annoyed way. What Amara hears is sadness, and a whole lot of regret. ‘Do you get it?’ he asks.

‘I think so. I know you were really buying your accountant’s silence for all this time. I also think you should stop.’

Bertrand finally meets her eyes. ‘Why do you think that?’

‘Well, I think you should stop trying to protect your father’s reputation. It’s time to let go.’

*****

Taglist:

@andy-loves-corgis @jovialyouthmusic @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @mariahschoices @drakesensworld @thequeenofcronuts @notoriouscs@drakewalkerisreal @nikkis1983 @simsvetements @alesana45 @lily1999love @iplaydrake @emceesynonymroll @drakewalkerwhipped @drakewalkerrosenberg @drakeswalkers @drakelover78 @silviasutton1989 @dcbbw @carabeth @furiousherringoperatortoad @hollygirl1269

Thank you for your encouragements, everyone! Let me know if you want to be added to the taglist :)

#that's not why i'm going #dramara #drake x amara #drake walker x amara suarez #drake x mc #drake walker x mc #drake walker #drake walker trr #trr drake #drake trr #the royal romance #trr fanfic #trr choices #choices trr

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