#in fact i feel guilty for drawing oc art for myself when i could be doing -checks notes- FANART for OTHER PEOPLE to SEE and ENJOY | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

Insatiable ( Jungkook x OC) Chapter 2

Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x OC

Rating 18+

Genre : Vampire Au!!!! , DILF! Jungkook ! Bodyguard AU! Babysitter OC! Age difference!!! [ bet you’ve never seen all of this in one fic before? ]

[ Some notes : Born Vampires stop aging when they turn twenty five. Turned vampires stop aging when they’re turned. ]

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

“You alright?” Somi asked gently, watching me fling my backpack into the corner of the room with enough force to dislodge one of the wooden panels on the wall, the shelf crashing and bringing down the two potted plants on it. The sound of ceramic shattering made me wince, regret churning in my stomach.

“Yeah...yeah. Oh, God. I’m so sorry, Somi.. I broke your pots-”

“Never mind the pots...why do you look so upset? Have you been crying?” She demanded , reaching for me, hands curling around my wrists and drawing me into a hug and I swallowed, my throat dry and eyes swollen from all the tears that I’d wrung out of them.

Outside the room, Namjoon stood guard, at the door and I felt guilty remembering how the past three hours had gone.

After confronting Jungkook, I’d stormed off in righteous indignation and poor Namjoon had been forced to follow.

He had kept a discreet distance as I climbed to the tallest ridge on the roof, scaling the gables with ease and I knew he had been terrified at the prospect of me falling.

Immortal or not a three hundred foot drop to the ground would be something that would hurt.

And it was my bodyguard’s job to make sure I did not get hurt.

When he wasn’t busy fucking other women that is.

I gripped my sister harder, fingers curling into the fir of her coat as I tried to catch my bearing.

“Do you know Helena?” I whispered, pulling away to look at her. Somi’s face fell,eyes filling with sympathy.

“Oh, no. Was she here?” She asked gently, reaching out and cupping my cheeks and my lips wobbled.

“Why didn’t you warn me that he was in a relationship?” my voice shook and Somi shook her head.

“He’s not!! God, Helena doesn’t do relationships. Jungkook and her.... well, I’m not sure but they’re just fuck buddies..... barely that. You know she’s from the Kim clan right? Those bloodsuckers never settle for one partner. “ She muttered.

I stared at her.

“He called me a child and then told me he’ll tell dad if i try to make a move on him.” I whispered.

Somi flinched.

“Sera....”

“It was humiliating and painful and I don’t ever want to think about it, ever again.” I muttered.

She sighed.

“It’s not like you don’t have men dying for a glance from you, Sera. You forget that you’re literally the most beautiful woman in the clan. If he rejects you, you’re definitely not the one missing out in that equation.”

I nodded, misery seeping into me. My sob-fest on the roof hadn’t been wasted. I was angry at first but now, a sort of resigned acceptance had taken the place of my anger.

The look on Jungkook’s face had been too real, the emotion behind his rejection too potent for me to get over. I wasn’t sure I could change his mind.

Wasn’t even sure if I wanted to.

“Was he very hurtful ? You know, if you tell dad, he’ll hire someone else and-”

“No.” I said immediately. “ I won’t do that. It’s not his fault, it’s minge. I acted out like a...well a child to be honest. He doesn’t owe me anything and he’s always been obvious in his disinterest. I was just too blinded my own attraction to consider that it wasn’t reciprocated.” I grimaced.

God, I’d been an idiot and Jungkook’s words had knocked some good sense into my head. But I did care for him and his son and they needed this job. I wouldn’t put his job in jeopardy just because I didn’t get my way.

I was better than that.

“Alright... Dad wanted to meet you for breakfast tomorrow.... He sounded serious. Do you know what that’s about?”

I groaned, when I remembered the reason my dad wanted to see me these days.

“Dad wants me to start meeting men now. He thinks I’m old enough now that i’ve turned 21. He’s been badgering me for a whole entire month but I kept putting him off because of...well, because of Jungkook.” I admitted.

Somi looked worried.

“You want to ? If you don’t we can talk to dad and-”

“No-” I shook my head.” I’m just gonna agree.”

Somi looked surprised.

“Are you sure? Sera you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to-”

I smiled weakly.

“I’m not going to be allowed to stay single forever Somi. Especially not when the entirety of dad’s day is spent trying to chase suitors away from the door. Do you know the Count from Jeju Do...dude’s a whole seven centuries old and he looks like a toad. He apparently tried to ask about me and Dad’s been freaking out. “ I shuddered.

Somi laughed.

“ That’s what you get for being you. But dad’s right. Keeping you away from everyone is only inviting more interest. And we don’t want you to be with someone insufferable.” She ruffled my hair and I hugged her again sighing into her shoulders.

No I didn’t want to be with someone who just saw me as some kind of a possession to be owned. I wanted someone nice and kind. A handsome man who did the right thing . Someone who maybe, worked hard to give his kid a safe and protected life, someone who didn’t shun away from hard work and was a gentleman as well.

Someone like-

“Someone other than Jungkook.” Somi said gently reading my mind.

“I really liked him.” I whispered softly, feeling tears spring again.

God, I thought I was all out of tears for Jeon Jung Kook but apparently I was wrong.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I took extra care with my makeup the next morning, because my father usually had a ton of business meetings during his breakfast. I didn’t usually bother but , I was going to agree to his suggestions today and well, nothing wrong in delighting my father. And nothing made him happier than seeing me prance about with pretty feminine clothes .

My dad, for all his jovial cheerful air, loved his position as the head of the Hwang clan. And as his most prized possession , I was the apple of his eye. And while he didn’t treat me as an object or anything ( my dad loved me deeply and his affection was always evident. ) , there was no mistaking the fact that my dad enjoyed the power that came with being my guardian. Powerful men were willing to bend to his will, just for a chance to be with me.

I sound insufferable, don’t I?

Trust me I’m not.

The vampires that court me are usually assholes. Entitled, brain dead assholes . When I opened the door in the morning, dressed in a short summer dress and ready to meet my dad, I was surprised to see Jungkook standing guard outside. He straightened away from the wall where he was fiddling with his phone, his gaze flitting to me, eyes cold and blank.

I bowed lightly, not smiling.

“Mr. Jeon. I have a breakfast date with my father and then I’ll be heading to the cottage. I’m also meeting a friend of mine at the Art Museum in the evening so i’ll need the Mercedes brought around to pick me up maybe at 5.00PM.” I said briskly, glancing at him.

My face flamed red when I noticed his gaze, fixed steadily on my ass. I cleared my throat angrily and his eyes met mine, a slow lazy grin playing around his mouth.

“You look different.” He commented , shamelessly giving me another once over.

The nerve.

I swallowed, willing myself not to blush harder.

“I’m sure I don’t know what you mean.”

He chuckled.

“That dress barely covers your butt, angel. You sure you want to head to daddy dearest, dressed like that?” The way he said daddy made my skin heat up.

I felt my jaw come unhinged.

“That’s...that is none of your damn business.” I said shrilly.

He gave me another once over.

“Okay, then. If that’s what you’re into...fine. Let’s go.”

Gritting my teeth, i tried to keep my face neutral. I would not give him the satisfaction of knowing that he got to me. I would not.

I walked ahead of him , my fists clenched and my jaw tight and I felt incredibly upset because the day had barely begun and I was already wound tight. I was supposed to be relaxed and clear headed while talking to my father but Jeon Jungkook had muddled my brains as usual.

I took deep breaths, trying to calm myself down.

“Sera, wait.” His voice made me pause and I stopped, turning around to glare at him.

“What?” I snapped.

He sighed, deeply. I watched as he ran his hands through his hair, tongue pressing into his cheek the way it did when he was upset.

“About last night-”

I felt my pulse quicken.

“I don’t wanna talk about it!” I said quickly, turning back around to leave but his fingers came around my arm, gripping hard .

“Well tough luck. Because I do!” He said sharply.

I whimpered, pain blooming up my arm and he swore, loosening his grip.

“I keep forgetting you’re human.” He muttered, “ I’m sorry... I just... I wanted to apologize for how i handled things last night. I was twenty once and I should have been more understanding.”

I closed my eyes. Oh, God no. Please, please for the love of God, let me hate you in peace. Don’t apologize and make me fall in love all over again.

“Its fine.” I choked out. “ You were right. I was out of line.”

“You deserve better.” He said quickly, eyes flitting away from my face and I felt a sharp pang in my heart. God , this was agonizing.

“Jungkook-”

“It’s just that you’re...well you know who you are. You can’t be with ...someone like me and trust me you don’t want to be with someone like me either. I know its appealing, the whole illusion of stability. older man, has a kid, has his life together .....but that’s not all it means .” He gave me a tired smile.

I bit my lips, ot replying and he went on.

“ I have baggage, a shit ton of it and I would have to be especially cruel to unload something like that on a girl barely out of her teens. I’ve done shit I’m not proud of ,....but ruining your life, I’m gonna draw the line there.” He smiled , looking a whole decade younger and I closed my eyes.

I was back to square one, I thought miserably. He had my whole heart.

“ So we’re good right?” He prompted and I exhaled, giving him a smile.

“We’re good.”

“That’s good. Because my son loves you and I would rather we be friends. You’re just like a daughter to me. ” He touched my face gently, pulling away at once, the small contact leaving fire in its wake and I had to clench my fists .

A daughter?!! Is he out of his damned mind?

“Okay.”

“Let’s go then.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Jungkook, please sit down. You’re like my son and I don’t want you hovering like you’re part of the backdrop. I’ve trusted you with my entire life.” My father beamed, pointing at me and i laughed.

Jungkook bowed respectfully, taking the chair next to me.

“How are you , my buttercup?” My father asked softly, fingers gripping mine and I smiled.

“I’m well, father. Do you like my dress?”

Next to me Jungkook coughed and I shot him a dirty look.

“It looks ravishing on you. The prettiest flower in my estate is my daughter, do you agree Jungkook?” My father prompted and I swallowed the smirk that threatened.

Poor Jungkook was going to learn that being my bodyguard meant singing my praises twenty four seven or at least anytime my father was in hearing distance.

“Uh..” Jungkook’s eyes flitted between the two of us, “ Yes sir. Your daughter is quite lovely.”

I beamed at him and he looked away quickly.

Coward.

Turning back to my dad I held my hand out.

“DAd, you wanted to see me about something?”

“Yes dearest. You know the Kim clan’s matriarch has been after me. Three of her great great great grandsons have come of age recently. And all three of them are set to take over some very lucrative businesses. They are good men and apparently they’re quite smitten with you. They say you know of them from school?”

I sighed.

“Do you know their names?” I prompted.

“Mingyu, Minjae and Yugyeom.” My father said briskly.

Ugh.

“ They’ve asked me out before, yes.”

“Uh..Excuse me.. Could I get a refill?” Jungkook said quietly next to me and i turned, watching him wave to one of the footmen.

“Jungkook, are you thirsty?” My father asked brightly.

An idea formed in my head, wicked and dangerous.

“Perhaps, he should get a taste of the Hwang Elixir?” I said innocently.

My father’s gaze snapped to mine.

A small frown made its way to his face.

“Are you sure? I’m not sure if Jungkook would be comfortable-”

I turned to him, purposely flipping my long hair off my shoulders exposing my throat . Jungkook’s eyes went to the curve of my neck at once and i felt a sick sort of triumph when his eyes flashed red.

“Oh, no no...” I crooned, leaning in closer. “ I’m sure you aren’t uncomfortable , are you Jungkook ssi? After all, I am just like a daughter to you , aren’t I?” I stared right at him, fluttering my lashes and I saw his jaw clench.

“Of course, Ms. Hwang.” He said briskly, glaring at me. I played with the small gold chain around my neck, letting my fingers flutter over my pulse , drawing his gaze there.

“Well, that is true ...” My father looked uncertain, but I gave him a gentle nod and a smile.

“Well, as a special guest, I suppose you can enjoy our hospitality , Jeon. Why don’t you take a drink from -”

I moved closer, pressing up against him and Jungkook sighed, lips closing over my neck, and I felt my eyes flutter shut at the wet warmth of his mouth .

It was intoxicating, the way he used one hand to grip my neck gently, the other on my waist to steady me and when his fangs pierced through, I could sense the warm liquid flood his mouth and Jungkook’s entire body relaxed, a strangled moan escaping him.

“---my daughter’s wrist.” My father finished and I felt Jungkook stiffen next to me.

This time I couldn’t stop the grin that bloomed on my face.

My eyes dropped to his lap and yup, his pants definitely looked a tad tighter.

“Did I do good, Mr Jeon? Or should I call you daddy? ” I whispered quietly , fluttering my lashes at him and his fangs retracted and he pulled away from me, shoving me back into my own chair quickly.

My father was slightly slack jawed.

“I’m sorry, Mr. Hwang. “ Jungkook muttered and I laughed.

“I do believe it is I whom you should be apologizing to. It is my neck you just mauled. ” I smiled brightly staring at Jungkook and if looks could kill, I would have a thousand wooden stakes through my heart right about now. ‘

Take that Mr. Jeon.

Daughter, my ass.

“My apologies , Sera.” He said stiffly.

My father laughed raucously.

“Ahh, you must be used to the neck, my dear boy. understandable understandable. it is how we used to do it in the old days, after all . These younglings with all their etiquette and feminism and what not....it’s hard to keep up..... But now you must tell me? Is my daughter not the sweetest you’ve ever had?”

I choked, coughing. Oh God, sometimes my 900 year old father had no idea how he sounded.

Jungkook looked like he had swallowed a lemon.

“She’s certainly ...” He stopped, probably realizing that any adjective at the end of that sentence would sound entirely wrong.

“Delicious?” I prompted, blinking innocently and Jungkook shot me another glare.

“Well, nevermind nevermind. .... So, tell me dearest, will you be willing to meet the Kim boys?”

I sighed.

“I like Yugyeom. I cannot stand Minjae. I don’t know enough about Mingyu to make any judgement. How about I meet Mingyu and if I don’t hit it off with him, I will allow Yugyeom to court me....” I said softly.

I glanced at Jungkook but he was studiously looking away.

“Very well my dear. Do you have any plans today?”

“I’m meeting a friend at the museum.”

My father’s eyes widened.

“Well isn’t that a wonderful coincidence. Mingyu's law firm is just a block away if I’m not mistaken. I’ll ask the boy to pick you up afterwards. Have dinner with him and you can tell me tonight of your choice.” My father smiled briskly.

“Yes, father.”

“Jungkook..” My father prompted and the vampire glanced up.

“Yes, sir?”

“Take good care of her. At the restaurant, make sure you stay at hearing distance. “

“Yes sir.” Jungkook bowed and I groaned.

In other words, let my father know if I behaved appropriately.

i pouted and my father waggled his finger at me.

“No, no no.. Missy. I’m going to make sure you keep your end of the bargain . You need to give these men a proper chance before you reject them. “

I nodded.

“And you must ask Either Somi or Seolhyun to dress you. No jeans or one of those ridiculous gowns that make you look like a pastry.”

There was no mistaking the snort that came from my right and i glared at Jungkook before turning to my dad.

“Yes, father.”

“Good, now run along the pair of you. “

I stood up, kissing my father fondly on his forehead.

“I love you.” I whispered.

“You are my whole entire joy, dearest. “ He kissed my hand gently, eyes warm and soft.

As we left the room, Jungkook let out a sigh.

“I am never having a meal with you two again.” He ground out and I laughed.

“Anything you say, daddy.” I grinned.

Jungkook groaned.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

As luck would have it, my friend cancelled .

So at six the evening, I finished locking up the cottage as the last of the kids left, fumbling with the lock while a tired Joo Won napped in his father’s arms, head resting on Jungkook’s shoulders. I felt myself soften at the picture they made, Jungkook singing softly , fingers brushing his son’s hair back as he rocked him gently.

“I’ll be a while... I needed to get ready. Why don’t you put him to bed? Who’s watching him tonight?”

“Hwasa and Moonbyul offered. I’ll drop you off in your room and head to the north wing. What time are you meeting the jerkwad?” He said casually.

I blinked rapidly, confused.

“I’m sorry... the jerkwad?”

Jungkook shrugged.

“It’ just a fact. Most men are absolute jerks at twenty one.” He shrugged.

i felt myself bristling on behalf of the unknown Mingyu.

“That is absolutely unfair. My brothers were incredibly kind and good.”

“To you perhaps. Because they don’t have to impress you. But men act differently when they’re trying to get between a woman’s thighs. They’re jerks when they want to get laid...” He grinned.

“Is that why you act like a jerk to me? ” I smiled evilly and he rolled his eyes.

“Oh, darling we both know I don’t have to act in any different way to get you into my bed . I just have to do this.” He smirked, curling his finger in a come hither gesture.

I felt my pulse pound and I tried not to let his words get to my head. He was flirting , yes but it was a joke. He was joking with me because the very idea of being with me was a joke to him.

And I couldn’t forget that.

Rolling my eyes, I pulled on the lock a couple more times to make sure the door was well locked.

“Shall we leave?” He prompted watching me wrestle the backpack onto my shoulders. I grunted under the weight.

“Of course. Let’s go.”

We walked in silence for a few seconds.

“So, how’s he doing? With stuff?” Jungkook asked gently and I felt warmth bloom in my chest.

“He’s very advanced for his age Jungkook. You’ve done a wonderful job with him. He’s able to read and he has a beautiful l writing hand. He’s learned his multiplication tables all the way up to seven and he has the voice of an angel. Which I think he gets from you. ” I smiled, reaching out to brush the back of Joowon’s head.

Jungkook smiled softly, the late evening sun painting his perfect features in a soft golden glow.

“Your father was kind enough to support me the first few years when i had him. I didn’t trust anyone enough to leave him with them and well... i needed to put a roof over our head.” He sighed .

I touched his arm, giving it a small squeeze.

“I understand. I’m glad you’re here. He’ll grow up well in our clan. “

“And he has a lot of excellent men to look up to here...He needs a good role model, someone kind and amazing who can inspire him to be hardworking and fair. ” He smiled.

I bit my lips.

“I think he’s had that all along. ” I said quietly.

Jungkook’s breath caught for a second and the air between us changed. I licked my lips.

“Jungkook you’re a good father. You know that right?” I said after a few more seconds of silence.

He laughed.

“Am I really? I wonder.”

“He loves you.” I breathed , “ You’re all he talks about.... Today, one of the other kids tried to say that his father was brave because he helped someone who was stuck in an elevator. you know what Joowon did? He listed some twenty different incidents where you’ve helped people out....And he looked so proud.”

Jungkook’s ear looked red in the brightly lit garden.

“i was just doing my job. Most of those times, I was in danger.” He grunted.

“And yet, you did the right thing. “ I whispered. “ And your son was watching. And he’s learned the importance of doing the right thing even when you’re scared. That’s a life lesson that isn’t easy to learn.”

“Can’t disagree with that.” He chuckled. I grabbed his arm forcing him to stop.

I had to tell him this.

“ Jungkook, when immortality is on the plate, people don’t give much value to morals. They don’t always care about doing the right thing.... . Its how our kind functions. Consequences don’t mean much when you have a whole eternity to fix your mistakes.....So I always admire vampires who value morals. “ I smiled, “ To see a five year old with such a well formed moral compass... it tells me that you’re an amazing father. Possibly the best I’ve ever met. “ I reached out, to hold his hand, wanting to touch him in some way, to make him believe that I was completely honest.

“Sera!!!!!!” My sister’s voice made me jump and Jungkook stepped away as well.

“Dad told me you’re going on a date? I’ve picked out an outfit for you!! But you need to take a shower! You cannot show up smelling like diapers and spit-up.” She called.

I groaned.

“Time for the ugly duckling to transform into a swan, I see?” He said gently.

“Your son’s favorite fairytale.” I whispered.

“He makes me read it every night.”

“I would like to sit in on that someday.” I laughed.

His eyes met mine.

“You’re always welcome, Ms Hwang,” He smiled politely. “ Someday soon maybe your kids and my son would be friends.”

And just like that the wall grew between us.

His kids and my kids.

Not our kids because he wasn’t for me.

He would never be for me.

I felt the sudden inexplicable urge to cry.

Turning away, I began following my sister as she waved to me. .

“I’ll be at your door at seven.” He called out behind me.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

#jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #jungkook fics #jungkook #bts fics #jungkook vampire au #jungkook vampire #bts vampire au #bts smut #bts fic #bts fanfic #jungkook fanfic

305 notes · View notes

imaginationintowords · 3 years

Text

Folklore [song series]

mirrorball

Modern Day AU! Steve Rogers x OC!Reader

Plot: Inspired by Taylor Swift’s new album folklore. The story follows the timeline of Bucky and Elizabeth’s life throughout the years.

Word count: 2110

[a/n: thanks for being patient with me! hope you guys enjoy this new chapter! if i forgot to tag you please inbox me]

previous part

Series Masterlist

Age: 20

Location: Brooklyn, NY

Year: Summer 2014

Steve flopped down onto his bed, tired after today's events. Elizabeth softly laid down next to him, Steve wrapped his arm around her bringing her closer to his chest.

"Today was a day," he tiredly says.

"You okay?" She asked him.

After Bucky had left there was a sadness aura that followed Steve for the rest of the party. He had no clue what he had expected Bucky's reaction to be, but definitely not the one he got. He had even prepared himself fo a fight, he was grateful that didn't happen. He just wasn't expecting for Bucky to shut down and leave. Not even accepting his offer of having a conversation later.

He knew that Bucky just needed his space, time to think it all over. But the look on Bucky's face had Steve questioning whether or not he would ever come around.

It threw Steve off when Bucky requested that he breakup with Elizabeth. He couldn't believe his best friend would want his own happiness to suffer.

His whole life he had done everything possible to keep Bucky happy. After what Bucky and his family had to go through with his father, Steve made it his mission to never let his friend feel that way again. Granted he was only 7 when he made that promise to himself, he still kept it.

Steve had never put himself first, at least not until he had made the decision to go to school in California. He had even thought about changing his plans after his breakup with Elizabeth but he knew his parents would've been disappointed with that decision.

He had put Bucky first his entire life, what he's doing isn't selfish. Yet he can't help but feel like the most selfish person ever.

What if he was keeping Elizabeth from truly being happy? What if she just didn't want to break his heart? What if she just didn't want to break his heart during a family event? What if come tomorrow she would tell him the truth, that she was really still in love with Bucky.

He's not sure he could handle that heartbreak.

"Want to tell me what's going on in that head of yours?" Elizabeth asked, breaking Steve from his self destructive thoughts.

"I won't be mad if you still love him," Steve says, "I'd understand."

Elizabeth quickly sat up to get a look of Steve's face to make sure he was being serious. It nearly broke her to see how defeated he looked. She's never seen him so down, not even after his breakup with Peggy.

"You don't have to pretend to save my feelings," he continues, "If it meant you were happy, that's all I care about. If being with Bucky makes you happy, then please don't let me stand in the way."

"Oh Steve," she gently caresses his face, staring down at him, "I wasn't lying earlier when I told Bucky that I didn't love him anymore. And i most definitely wasn't lying when I said that I love you, because I do love you, with my whole heart. You make me happy. The happiest I've ever been. Bucky was my past. You are my now, and hopefully my future.

"If you can't see how truly great you are, then I must not be doing my job as not only your girlfriend, but you're friend," she says, "Because you make me feel special every single day. And I just want you to feel the way you've made me feel."

"It's not your fault," Steve softly says, grasping her hand to place a kiss on her knuckles.

"Growing up I've always been second to Bucky," he explains, "Everyone seemed to prefer him over me. Whether it was girls or just our friends. It was always Bucky then Steve."

Elizabeth takes a moment to think back on their time growing up. She couldn't help but feel guilty when she realized that everything Steve is saying is true.

After she and Bucky got together, Steve sort of became an after thought, not because they purposefully excluded him, it never crossed their mind simply because Steve also had Peggy at the time. But after Peggy left, Elizabeth never really got to talk to Steve about how he felt, because she got caught up in her own drama.

"Steve, I'm so sorry," she apologizes, "I should've known then about how you felt. I was so caught up in my own shit, I never realized that you could've been going through your own stuff."

"Liz, it was never your fault," he says, "You were going through your own stuff. And I had learned to suppress it. Plus Bucky was your boyfriend at the time, of course i wasn't really on your mind. Plus it's kind of my fault for allowing it to happen. I never spoke up about it. I just always went along, figuring it was better than nothing."

"Once I got to Berkeley that's when everything changed," his mood shifts a bit to a much lighter feel, "I no longer felt like the shadow of a person. I felt like my own person for the first time ever. I was able to become someone I never thought possible. I am no longer 'scrawny Steve, Bucky's best friend'. I just became 'Steve' or 'Rogers'."

Elizabeth smiled at the way Steve's eyes lit up when talking.

"I had never imagined myself leaving New York, let alone making the permanent move to California," he confesses, "As much as I love it here, California is where I feel I belong. I know you feel it too."

Elizabeth nods her head agreeing with him. She felt the same way, as much as New York was her childhood home, California was where she felt her heart aching for. Where she felt like she belonged, where she could thrive. The more she spent time there, the more it felt like home, that's why moving there wasn't a tough decision for her.

"Coming back here," Steve says, causing Elizabeth to shift back her focus on him, "It just makes me feel like that scrawny kid all over again. I feel like no matter how hard I try to shed that image, Brooklyn will never see me for who I am now, but for who I was then. Like no matter what I do I will always be 'little' Steve Rogers."

"I know you feel it too," he says looking up at her.

She did. She did feel stuck in the past whenever she came back home. It seemed like life stood still here, while outside of Brooklyn everything is moving ahead. She knows it's only because she grew up there, and had nothing to do with Brooklyn itself. Once she was in California, she got a taste of life outside of Brooklyn, and she's not sure if she would want to go back. So moving there was an easier choice for her to make.

"I do," she agrees, "It's why moving to California was an easy decision for me to make."

"I wasn't even sure I was even going to make it to California," he says.

"Why is that?"

"Felt like I was disappointing my parents," he confesses, "We had always discussed me going to Columbia as a pre-med major. That had been the original plan. It wasn't like they were forcing it on me. More like I was forcing it onto myself.

"It was the 'safer' choice, granted the longer one, but in the end it all would've been worth it. For some reason as a child I believed that was the only way my parents would've been proud of me. Regardless of the fact that they were already proud and would tell me constantly. I just put that pressure on myself."

"It wasn't until junior year that Mr. Lawson, my high school art teacher said I should apply to some art schools," he continues, "Then after I had a long discussion with the guidance counselor she agreed as well, saying I would get in no problem with whatever art field I applied in.

"I never really gave my drawing much thought. It was just something I would do. Also a career in art is not exactly financially stable, or at all stable. But I figured it wouldn't hurt to apply to a couple of schools as an architecture major. Never really gave it a second thought."

Steve pauses, "I did get into Columbia."

"Steve, no fucking way," Elizabeth gasp sitting up straighter, "I never even heard."

"That's because I only told my parents," he says, "I got the acceptance email the same day I got NYU's and Berkeley's, where I hadn't applied as pre-med, which my parents didn't know of at the time."

"Wow," Elizabeth responds feeling herself become speechless. She had only known about NYU and Berkeley. She knew about NYU because that was the plan, they, including Bucky had discussed Freshman year. Back when she was still with Bucky, and Steve with Peggy and they all had planned to stay in New York. Before life got complicated.

"When I did get the Berkeley acceptance I had to come clean to my parents about what major I applied under. I was nervous, because a part of me never told them because I was worried I wouldn't get in. So seeing that acceptance it was the assurance I needed. One that really let me know that I could actually do it. And of course my parents were proud."

"Of course," Elizabeth smiles, "They would've been proud if you had decided to not even go to school and just worked in a restaurant."

"That's true," Steve lets out a small laugh, "And I think I more so didn't want to regret the decision. Leaving home to move across the country for a career that could be unstable. It's scary."

"Do you?" Elizabeth asks.

"Do I what?"

"Do you regret it?"

"Not one bit," he smiles, pulling her back down onto his chest.

They laid there in a comfortable silence. Steve ranking his fingers on Elizabeth's arm, feeling himself grow tired.

"I hope you know you're amazing," Elizabeth quietly says looking up at him with pure admiration in her eyes, "That I think you're amazing. I think you're one of the greatest people I have ever known. And if I have to spend my entire life showing you just how amazing I think you are, I will."

Age: 29

Year: 2023

Location: Santa Barbara, CA

Elizabeth giggled as Steve carried her over the threshold into their hotel room for the weekend. He kicked the door closed as he silenced her giggles with a kiss, before placing her on her feet.

"Why thank-you Mr. Rogers."

"You're very welcome Mrs. Rogers," he smiled brightly at his new wife.

Her makeup was slowly fading, hair no longer perfectly done after a night of dancing with their close loved ones. Steve just stares at her lovingly. He ahs never seen her more beautiful and the fact that he gets to be her husband for the rest of his life, he's never felt luckier.

Elizabeth feels his eyes just on her, "What? Do I have something on my face?"

"No, just admiring my beautiful wife," he compliments, causing Elizabeth to blush.

"How about one more dance?" she asks.

"There's no music."

"When I'm with you there's always music," she says holding her hand out for him.

Steve pulled her to him, one hand grasped in her's, while the other lay on her lower back. Elizabeth's head rested on his chest, with Steve's chin softly resting on the top of it.

"You know I think you're amazing," Elizabeth says as they sway softly in each other's arms.

"You might've told me once or twice," he responds.

"Get used to it because I'm going to be telling you that for the rest of our lives."

"Nothing I want more than that," he kisses the top of her head.

"If you'd asked me to runaway with you to join a circus, I would in a heartbeat," she says.

"Oh really? If I lose my job, and having nothing to show for, you'd still be there?"

"Right next to you baby, every step of the way," she says looking up at him, "Plus you won't have nothing to show. You'll have me. You'll have us. With me by your side I'll make sure you never not know how much you mean to me."

"You've made me believe in love again when I thought it wasn't possible. You've made me love myself in a way that I didn't think were possible. You make me a better human being by just being you. I love you Steve, more than anything.

"So if everything were to go to shit, as long as I have you that's all I need. I'll be there reminding you every single day just how special you are to me."

"I love you," Steve smiles as tears fall from his eyes.

#folklore #folklore song series #folklore mirrorball #mirrorball #mirrorball taylor swift #mirrorball song seires #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x original female character #steve rogers x original character #Steve rogers x OC!female #steve rogers angst #steve rogers fluff #angst #fluff #original character series #Steve rogers modern au #steve rogers modern day

51 notes · View notes

nadiawrites14 · 4 years

Text

whagt the hell nadia has a creepypasta oc???

its october mf

wc: 3.6k

not very well written and a bit of a hot mess but still love this tall king <3

There was this kid at my school.

There was a kid at my school, and I just really need to talk about him. I think it’s something I need to put out there. I am talking about it because anyone and everyone I talk to seems to never remember his name, or him in general, but I can’t stop thinking about his face.

I was never popular at school, and my brother always outshined me in that fact. He was a cheerleader, and I was his nerdy, unattractive sister. His friends were never friendly with me, and it wasn’t easy for me to make new ones, so I mostly kept to myself. Besides a few nice classmates, I was a bit of a loner, and this led me to Charlie.

Charlie Nguyen had always attended school in my city. I knew of him — we’d never actually talked, besides nearly 10 years of attending school together. Come to think of it, I don’t think anyone really talked to Charlie. He was always there, a lingering presence, and seemed to get on better with teachers than he did with other kids. Despite both of us being outcasts, we never interacted, right up until recently. He just tapped my shoulder in the hallway once, shyly staring at his feet and asking if I would like to eat lunch with him in the library. Despite his crooked posture and timidness, he towered over me. I was only as tall as his shoulder. I had nothing to lose from it, really — it was more preferable to spending lunch with Ernest and his friends, so I accepted cheerily which made him very happy.

Talking to him, I was shocked at how much I missed out on by never bothering to strike up a conversation. He was funny, sweet, and a hell of a lot more intelligent than I had believed. I’d often seen my teachers slip back 70s and 60s to him, but in one of the library’s secluded corners, we discussed politics and art and existentialism. I don’t even know how we got into talking about philosophy and what defines the self, but by the time the bell rang, my lunch was not eaten and I was much more enlightened than I was before. It was like a lightning bolt. I told him I’d be glad to eat lunch with him tomorrow as well, and he seemed very appreciative of it. As I headed to my last class, I realized I forgot to ask for his number, but decided I’d ask the next day.

Something about Charlie was just so alluring. I didn’t know much about him at all, even after our daily lunches began — he was 17, from Fresno, and his mother passed when he was young. Half-Vietnamese, half-white, and he spoke broken Spanish and loved to draw cartoons in the margins of his notes. I found myself chatting with him through text past my bedtime, where we’d discuss our lives, our academics, our interests. One thing Charlie and I really bonded over was our shared interest in both Shakespeare and horror movies. He’d been enamored since he read Romeo and Juliet his freshman year, but Hamlet was his favorite. At the time, I was peeling through AP Literature with straight A’s and was much more concerned with Tolstoy and Plath and Camus, but his fascination with the bard was certainly something I could bond with him over.

I prefer the comedies, though. Midsummer’s Night, Much Ado, As You Like It. Charlie’s interest in the tragedies ranged from the general to the obsessive, where he would produce sermons and sermons of how much the words and writings spoke to him. Considering how much death was in Hamlet and Macbeth, his other favorite, it concerned me, but I passed it off as nothing unique. After all, he was also a fan of slashers and all things horror. He loved a good scare. Whenever I tried to coax him into visiting his house for a movie night or a sleepover, he’d defer, and I would glumly accept the sentence. Once I switched the proposed setting from his house to mine, he gladly accepted.

Ernest was a little bit less enthusiastic about my liaisons with Charlie. They had gotten into scuffles before. Ernest got a very stern slap on the wrist for pulling on Charlie’s crutch in the hall once, freshman year. I told him a week in advance, just so he knew to vacate the house the next Friday and allow me and what he so lovingly called ‘the creepy asshole’ to watch a movie together. Ernie huffed and puffed about it the whole week and it really began to get on my nerves. The entire week, he bugged me and demanded just what I saw in that freak. I excused it as brotherly overprotection, but as Friday grew closer, I started to realize that it was fear.

When he dropped me off that morning, I confronted him in the car. “Why are you so scared of Charlie?”

Ernie scoffed. “I’m not scared of Charlie.”

“You sound pretty paranoid when you’re dropping a curfew on me and telling me to not get too close or talk too much.”

“Well, mom and dad are out of the house, and I wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Charlie is a freak. He’s... creepy. I can’t place my finger on what’s up with him. Esme, just tell me, have you ever left the room with a splitting headache when you’re with him? Has your phone ever started bugging out? Hm?”

I thought back. Well, a few lunches in, I did have such an awful headache I had to excuse myself from class to go try and throw my guts up in the bathroom. It wasn’t that, though, and it had subsided by the end of the school day. The back of my skull would sometimes pound and contract, but I didn’t think it was anything, reducing it to pollution or mold in the school. It always ebbed when I left the school. For my phone, it would get a little buggy. Just a little buggy, though! I had no reason to think it was Charlie’s fault! It’s not like we live in a world where that shit happens. He’s not some psychic, he’s a weird, lonely kid with trauma. That’s it. And I let Ernie know that by screaming an expletive and slamming the door on him, spending the rest of the school day with a headache tenfold worse than the one I had all those weeks ago. By lunchtime, my head was pounding so fiercely I almost slipped and fell down the stairs.

Charlie noticed, and asked what was wrong, a worried look on his face. I asked if we could postpone, and went on to talk about how awful my headache was. He seemed very disappointed about it but nodded and accepted with a smile. I felt so guilty about it, but it was quickly absolved, because when I walked out of the library with him I must have blacked out in the hallway. Charlie and one of the other teachers brought me to the nurse’s office, where my mother brought me home as I moaned in the backseat.

The rest of the afternoon was a blur. A literal blur behind my crowded vision and the blood rushing in my ears, but I do remember awaking in the darkness of my room at around 1:00 AM. The red light on my digital clock said so. I awoke to the sound of something like water boiling, or when a witch’s brew bubbles inside of a movie or cartoon. It was bubbling, dripping, wet — but when I pulled back my curtain, everything appeared dry. No rain, not even any clouds. The stars were quite clear, due to the fact that it was a new moon. Despite that lingering sound of bubbling and popping, I was able to fall back asleep. I don’t know how long I slept, but when I came downstairs the next morning, my parents (and an over-concerned Ernie) were adamant that I stay home all weekend. I accepted that the next two days would be filled with boring movie binges and cups of hot soup and tea, and I plopped back under the covers. My head began to pound every time I checked my phone. I noticed Charlie had sent me a few texts, but I didn’t have the heart nor the energy to check what he had said.

Sunday is when things actually began to get weird. The batteries in the remote for my TV had gone kaput, and I remembered that Ernie usually kept the same type in his desk for his old lamp. It was easier to walk across the hall to his room than down two flights of stairs into the basement. I knocked, and when there was no response, I entered. The lights were off. This was strange, because Ernie always loved to keep lights on. My parents constantly griped about seeing his outline in the window as late as 11, either from the strip LED lights that lined his room, the fairy lights, the candles, or the overhead light. I flipped the light switch and rubbed my eyes, as it was the most brightness I had seen in the past two days. Beginning to feel a tad nauseous, I took a seat at Ernie’s desk, trying to recall which drawer he kept his batteries in. As I searched, though, I noticed one drawer was shut from the inside, most likely from a heavyweight.

I should have just kept it shut. I shouldn’t have pressed. I should have gotten what I needed and left it alone, left my golden boy brother’s life completely alone. Then I could live knowing he didn’t have any dark secrets despite being a little bit of a bully and just a tad too standoffish. But, being the curious girl I was, I kept pushing until the drawer gave in.

Composition notebooks. The white smudges across the notebook covers had been filled in with dashes of pen, each one meticulously filled in. All five of the notebooks had this pattern. Blacked out, no name on the lines or any signage, otherwise normal in appearance. By that point, I should have known, but I kept going. I was once again shrouded in that same allure I felt around Charlie, the strange sense of being drawn in. When I opened the first notebook, I had to stop myself from making a sound. Every single page. Every single page in that notebook was filled with scratches in multicolored ballpoint pen, pleads and hypotheses and prayers. Drawings, maps, entries. The pages were thin from being worn down so deeply with the frantic pen marks, and many of the pages had been torn through from the intensity of the writing. My nausea grew and I began to feel my head pounding again. But I just couldn’t stop. Trying to process those frantic words written and dated and laden with tables and records and drawings was like trying to decipher hieroglyphics. Particularly, there was one symbol and one familiar figure that was retained throughout the notebook’s contents. An O with an X slashed through it. It reminded me of how I marked my bubbles on Scantrons, one line through, one line through, shade in the bubble. And the figure. The figure. A faceless man, a white oval of a face atop a suit and tie, and what looked to be tentacles pouring out from the sides.

I was snapped out of my trance by the sound of footsteps rising up the stairs. I dumped the notebooks back in my drawer, besides the fourth one, which I tucked in the back of my shorts and underneath my sweatshirt. Ernie looked at me weirdly as I exited his room, but I offered a weak smile and held up the pack of batteries. He nodded, and I disappeared back into my room.

It fascinated me, and it scared me. When the oncoming headache and nauesa had left, I scanned over all his words and entries, observing each of his drawings and sentences and deconstructing like a true AP student should know how to do. I always assumed Ernie was going to parties when I heard his window open and shut or when he warned me he wouldn’t be home until late, not investigating supernatural entities in our affluent suburban town and measuring sound waves through apps he’d downloaded onto his phone. I hadn’t known Ernie was this brilliant. It took me about two hours of reading and rereading that singular notebook until I had connected the dots.

A few years ago, our cousin Ronnie disappeared. Ronnie and Ernie were best friends, close like brothers, and were inseparable at each and every family gathering. What I knew for certain about Ronnie is that he also had a particular fascination with ghost-hunting. He went out on frequent escapades with his girlfriend and her brother with some handy professional equipment in the most ‘supernatural’ bits of California. Most of my family excused it as a strange hobby that didn’t subtract from Ronnie’s successful business career, not until all three of the ghost-hunting squad disappeared without a trace while investigating the Lassen National Forest. No DNA, no bodies, no signs or directions or a reason were ever found. Even their car and all their expensive equipment, all of Ronnie’s research, had vanished into thin air. It seemed he had become one of those ghost stories he so adored to pursue. It didn’t hit me that hard, as I hadn’t known Ronnie all that well, but I hadn’t factored in how much of Ernie’s personality had changed since the disappearance. He had become more standoffish with his rivals, more competitive with his athletics, more jumpy and paranoid.

I should have known by the way he looked at Charlie. I assumed it was drama I had missed out on or the pure perils of high school hierarchies. But I had never noticed how hateful, how accusatory it really was. For some reason, I was certain that Ernie had it in his head that all of these things were connected. The Faceless Man, the disappearance of our beloved Ronnie Halaifinoua, and the outcast at my school who was seemingly responsible for bugged out phones and splitting headaches. It made no sense, but at the same time, it was like a missing piece to a puzzle that I simply had to snap into place. I hid the notebook in my schoolbag, and went back on Monday armed with a bottle of aspirin and comfortable clothes, ready to confront Charlie.

At lunch, I took two aspirin and handed him the notebook wordlessly. We sat in silence as he slowly peered over the pages, absorbing the information behind blank eyes without a single sound. When he reached the final page, he set it down and asked, “Did you write this?”

“Ernie did.”

Charlie sniggered at that and crossed his legs. “Well, he’s onto me, now, isn’t he?”

I stared at him, slack-jawed, feeling duped. “You’re— you’re—“

“What, supernatural? I’d like to think so,” he gave me a mellow look. “Ah… you may want to take another aspirin. Watch this.”

I popped one and I watched. He closed his eyes and snapped his fingers. The lights above us flickered off, then on, then off again, before the lights reignited. Charlie opened his eyes, suddenly breathless, and nodded. “I can’t… usually do it with that much control. It needs work.”

I slammed my hands down on the notebook, my mind barreling at 100 miles per hour with a smattering of questions in tow. “Everything. Tell me everything. Now.”

Charlie folded his hands and gestured to the aspirin. I shook my head and pulled the bottle to my side. He cleared his throat, steadied his gaze, and began. “I wouldn’t call myself willingly supernatural by any means. I did not ask to be this way. I have been tossed through more foster homes in 17 years than I can count on my hands, and I would give anything to give up this life. I hate living a life where I’m unable to control my abilities. I don’t want to hurt others, I don’t want to do this, but sometimes it gets out of hand. Lucky for you,” he said. “Some people will gain immunity once exposed to it long enough.”

“Gain immunity to what?”

“It has a lot of names depending on the universe you’re in. They mostly call it the slender sickness, but you can call it the static sickness, faceless-man-itis, whatever. You do you. Headaches, nausea, hallucinations. Malfunctioning electricity. Static. The whole thing.”

“So it is you.”

“Always has been. Well, not totally. Faceless Man? The Faceless Man, as your brother says, he may or may not have touched my mother with his hand, therefore touching me as well and handing me a degree of abilities that I drag with me. It’s my cross, Esme. I’ve been avoiding his gaze for the past 16 years and have always managed to just be out of his reach, but my powers are getting stronger and it’s all getting more and more out of hand. I needed to go to someone.”

“Does he have a name? An actual one.”

“Many names. The Operator, the Business Man, Chernobog. Apparently, now, the Faceless Man. And I guess he’s my parental figure now. I’ve been chilling with him more often. Crazy dude, gotta say,” Charlie said, putting his hands behind his head and crossing his legs. “Crazy, crazy things.”

I looked at my hands, unsure of what to feel. “Did he kill my cousin?”

Charlie’s face went slack. “He’s killed many, many, people, but I don’t have control over what he does.”

We sat in silence for a long moment until Charlie spoke again. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

My heart began to pound. “Ernie’s after you,” I said, running a hand through my hair and letting it fall over my face. “I think he might try and hurt you.”

“So… movie night is postponed indefinitely, then,” he replied.

I grinned sadly at him. “Don’t make me laugh, this is serious. I don’t want you to be harmed.”

His arms dropped to his side, and he smiled at me. He smiled in a way that drew me back in all over again. “Esme, be here tomorrow. I’ll see you then.”

He vanished back out into the hall. I chose not to follow him. But, for the first time, I had a surprising lack of a headache, and I don’t think it was because of the aspirin.

That night, I slipped the notebook back into Ernie’s drawer. I think he may have figured it out, though, because when we bumped into each other on the stairs, we stared at each other for a good minute saying nothing. I believe it was my way of telling him which side I was on, because when he surrendered his gaze he slammed the door shut behind him and I heard rummaging in his room. I walked to school the next morning.

When I came to lunch the next day, Charlie was already waiting for me. He handed me a gift bag. “It’s a present,” he said. “For you.”

“What’s the occasion?”

“I’m moving. You might never see me again.”

“Oh, Charlie…”

“I say might. Might. There’s a chance we will meet again. Perhaps in another lifetime or in another universe. We can figure it out, alright? Alright.”

I shared my lunch with him, half a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and we toasted to his new life with our milk cartons. When we left the library that day, our pinkies were interlocked. As he turned to go to class, I pulled him back, and kissed him on the cheek. “I’ll miss you,” I said.

He hugged me. It was like hugging one of those plasma balls where your hair stands up when you touch it. I had just stuck my fingers in a socket, but when I pulled back, all I could see were Charlie’s grateful, glowing eyes. “I’ll miss you too. Goodbye, Esme. Goodbye.”

My hair on my arms was still standing up and my cheeks were dark with color. I had a mark on my pinkie from where it touched his.

Since that day, I haven’t seen Charlie Nguyen. Ernie is still doing tests and taking entries though they become more inconsistent and confusing each and every day. I have an idea of who’s altering his readings. The present Charlie gave me, though, might hold some importance for me in the future. It’s a key without something to unlock, a piece of quartz, his copy of Shakespeare’s Hamlet with all his annotations in the margins, and a pair of earrings with ghosts on them. Quartz conducts electricity. I remember learning that in class. I always keep it in my pocket now. When I ask my teachers about him, they seem confused, as do the other students. Ernie and I have seemed to make a silent pact as to not discuss the matters of the supernatural. I think he’s looking for Charlie. He’s looking for anything that will bring him closer to the truth.

I feel farther to the truth than ever before, but I know I cannot be far from it. It’s a matter of time. Ernie has begun to have headaches lately.

#AHGH charlie love u #i started writing this like 2 months ago and finished it on a whim last night #im trying to write as much as possible while im on this literary induced high #we will see #anyway enjoy charlie lore #my writes #charlie nguyen #creepypasta

2 notes · View notes

srnokedmirrors · 4 years

Photo

* . day to night , dark to light fall the s a n d s o f t i m e .

{ ross lynch, twenty-one, trans male, he/him } Have you seen ZELD CYELN “CIEL” NOHANSEN walking around? Little do they know, they’re the child of LINK & PRINCESS ZELDA from THE LEGEND OF ZELDA, and they HAVE TWO SIBLINGS ( one older, one younger ) . I guess that explains why they’re so CHARMING & ARTISTIC and GUARDED & INSECURE. They are a STREAMER. — penned by eve.

FIRST THINGS FIRST.

Hello hello again , folks !! It’s EVE and if you thought I went completely feral about Resident Evil earlier you are . . . sorely mistaken because now we are in Zelda territory and Zelda encompasses literally every fiber of my being. This OC is my most beloved ( despite the fact he’s an absolute prick ) and I have been itching to write him as a next-gen of Zelink , so VOILA , but just a few things !!

I love The Legend of Zelda . . . a lot. That’s the first thing. And my friends call me the Zelda lorekeeper since I know pretty much everything about the games like that back of my hand.

Another - as it’s always been a fact about his character , Ciel here is diagnosed with Type II Bipolar. Now , I want to clarify that I also am the same , and he was originally written as a comfort character to sorta see myself in a character I wrote ( and he became his own dude over the years. ) It’s not something that’ll pop up often , but I just wanted to let y’all know since I’m not gonna erase my own rep , I write from experience since I’m the same.

TWS AHEAD : Manipulation , mental illness

I. THE PAST - DO YOU REMEMBER ??

The second of The Hero & The Princess - Prince Zeld Cyeln Nohansen , carrying on the traditional naming conventions to keep the name Zelda in the family with obvious corruptions. Your older brother could not - and AS WELL , you are the only child in the family that possesses the holy powers of the royal bloodline that your mother carries , as shown by the brand of the Triforce on the back of your right hand. And immediately , expectations are thrust upon your shoulders before you can even walk.

It’s because of your power that you , instead of the eldest , are to succeed the throne as the next king of Hyrule once you become of age , and although your mother vows to not treat you the same as your father treat her , she often reminds you that the beautiful , sunlight-bathed kingdom will be yours.

So you grow. You grow & you adapt to the life of royalty , the CROWN PRINCE , and your relationship with your parents is better than most. While you’re significantly closer to your mother than your father , spending your days in the library with her & learning how to paint her visage , you also follow your father out to scope the kingdom on horseback. You grow up kind & gentle , the intelligence of your mother but the softness of your father , and it is well-known throughout the kingdom that you are DESTINED for good things.

It’s when you’re fourteen years old that you meet a boy.

A boy your age , a boy who smiles at you and you get fairies fluttering in your stomach. A boy who tells you that you’re pretty and by Nayru are you getting your first crush ??

Hm.

But you can’t see through the lies - that even though you’re young , manipulation knows no age and you are heartbroken to find that this boy leads you to a group of bandits that go on the attack and aim to STEAL the raw power you carry. After you’re tricked into bringing magical artifacts to their clutches , that is , that your family has gathered over the years - the goddess harp , the ocarina of time , and the cursed , wicked Majora’s Mask.

Your father sweeps into rescue you , and although you feel guilty , you aren’t berated for your mistakes. He only wants to know what happened , and if you’re alright , and you’re a sobbing mess but you tell your parents everything and they recognize that the evil forces that plagued them are NOW targeting their offspring.

You are only fourteen. But the betrayal turns you cold , and you close yourself off , now hesitant to trust. And you learn that there are DANGEROUS forces out there who want to hurt & use you in the same way , hence why you use your mother’s old study connected to her old bedroom ( now currently yours ) and you begin to research , research , research. You look back on the legends of old , and start practicing the magic of not only your bloodline , but the taboo power of shadow - such as that of the TWILI , a project aiming to recreate the mirror. You also use the mask , hoping to tap into the wicked power it carries to turn it around. You train with the Sheikah , as Sheikah blood runs in your veins as well , to master the art of using the shadows & the unseen to your advantage. You become a teenager devoted to your work - a mad scientist & magician , and the whispers of a ‘ mad alchemist prince ’ sweep throughout the kingdom due to the rumors you can stay awake for DAYS working on one thing , before crashing and moving onto the next.

But there is still pain - a loneliness & a hurt which you try to bury deep down , but it’ll still consume you to the point where you don’t know how to think clearly. You try and mask yourself best you can , but there is still a little boy , deep down , who only wishes to be loved and cared for and cherished by people his own age. Your work is your comfort but you are also learning to sink yourself in it to the point where it’s becoming a hindrance.

One day , maybe , you’ll get what you want - and everything will be okay. But the world is currently at your throat , so . . . how long will that be ??

Your sixteenth year changes everything. The Crown Prince goes missing , and he is lost without the comfort of his parents.

And he awakens in another day , as a new being , with only his wit & his charm to carry on.

II. PRESENT - WHO ARE YOU , YOURSELF ??

Okay so IN A NUTSHELL Ciel is the crown prince of Hyrule due to the fact he’s essentially the ‘Zelda’ of his generation - the only child that carries the sacred power of the goddess Hylia , and this kid is incredibly smart and artistic but due to being manipulated by dark forces when he was young , he’s EXTREMELY insecure and lacks trust , instead trying to become as powerful as possible by any means possible so he isn’t hurt again since now he’s a target like his parents were.

HIS CHARACTER . . . is incredibly complex. It doesn’t change much with or without memories because even though he hasn’t experienced that same shit , those trust issues & insecurities are still well-embedded into him. The main difference is that he’s still smart , but not because of excessive research on Hyrulean magic & history & technology.

ON THE SURFACE , Ciel appears to be honestly very exuberant , quick-talking , and , to some , annoying. He’s a bit of a loudmouth , he seems harmless in the aspect that he isn’t downright mean or anything , he’s just . . . a nuisance. Charming in the aspect that he knows how to talk his way out of any situation since he has a MOUTH on him , but he knows how to use it. He overshares , it seems , but in turn , he’s actually not revealing anything about himself of any importance. He’s just keeping his cards to his chest but he doesn’t anyone to see so , so he places counterfeit cards on the table.

Ciel is always one step ahead , and the best way to be is to convince everyone else that you’re far behind.

NOW ON THE INSIDE . . . Ciel is extremely caring & gentle. He cares a lot about the people he loves , but he’s hesitant to open up or trust other people given the fact he doesn’t want to be hurt , and he doesn’t want to make mistakes. He’s very observant & again , incredibly intelligent , knowing well how to read the atmosphere and pick out things that most don’t notice. He is insecure in the fact that he constantly thinks horribly of himself , and although he’s great at hiding it , it’s easy to get his feelings hurt. He hates that he has to keep on a mask since it makes him easily unlikable , but he thinks it’s the only way to stave off the most damage. But he’s a good kid & has a heart of gold , it’s just that . . . his heart has a few booboos on it. He CRAVES love & validation & affection but he’s afraid to ask for it or to take it since he’s gone down worse roads before by opening up to the wrong people.

He’s an artist - very talented in drawing & painting !! His apartment is littered with sketches & drawings and supplies and he would’ve gone to art school but money is tight and he doesn’t know he’s a prince in his actual reality so . . . yeah.

But his day job is that he’s a VERY popular video game streamer named Alchemyst , mainly doing let’s plays of adventure games & stuff with friends to get a good laugh. He also has a tendency to go on hilarious rants in a lot of his videos , resulting in MANY fanmade compilations & memes. He’s got a dedicated fanbase that he openly adores , and streaming also sorta helps him since he is a bit afraid of going into the outside world slightly.

It’s funny , because as a streamer , he isn’t at all obnoxious or annoying - it’s the closest he gets to acting like himself , even if he has to act a little more EXTROVERTED than he actually is.

THAT’S THE BASIS again , much more of a show than tell character but . . . Love him. I love him.

I DON’T have much ideas for wanted connections at this point aside from like . . . friends , exes , crushes , enemies , fans of his stream , etc. When I get more of a braincell I’ll put specific stuff down , but if it HELPS his fake life is shrouded in mystery bc Ciel doesn’t like talking about it ( aka , his fake past was p bad so he just prefers to act like he came out of fucking nowhere. )

But that’s it !! I’ll b responding to starters & calls soooon ~ ! I am ALL for plotting if u guys want , so just hit me up on here or Discord n I’ll respond as soon as I can !!

#awakenings:intro #* . abt : ciel #manipulation tw #mental illness tw

2 notes · View notes

ink-flavored · 5 years

Text

11/11/11 Game (Triple Threat)

Tagged by @multimousenette and @bogbodybitch and @nectareouswrites! Thanks!

I’ll put my questions at the top here so you don’t have to scroll through 33 questions lmao

Questions

Do you like to cook or do you prefer going out?

How meticulous do you like to get in your world building?

How do you relax when you’re stressed?

Do you have a creative hobby outside of writing? What is it?

Luck or chance?

Is there something that you’ve decided to keep in your WIP(s) even after someone told you to get rid of it?

What’s your battle music?

What are you most proud of yourself for?

What’s your favorite dinosaur?

What would you grow on a farm?

Blood family or found family?

Tagging: @royalbounties @rainy-rose @aesopsrachaels @purpleshadows1989 @frankensteinn @shadeshadow234 @startroubled @farrradays and anyone else who wants to!

Alright. Now comes the doozy.

1. What’s your preferred writing and reading genre?

Fantasy for both, though I like to read a lot of different genres

2. What’s your favorite thing about your least favorite character?

Least favorite is tough. The character I’ve been having the hardest time writing recently is General Zhai from The God-Dragon’s Wife, mainly because I haven’t solidified her motivations yet, but if there’s one thing I know about her, it’s that she takes no shit. Which is very difficult for me, because she isn’t taking my shit either.

3. What’s your least favorite thing about your favorite character?

Again with the favorites! Teconia is fun to write, but I feel bad about making bad things happen to her and making her sad. She gets sad a lot and then I feel guilty. Stop doing that.

4. Which of your characters do you feel most indifferent towards? Why?

Right now, it’s Park. I don’t think we’d be friends if he was a real person (robot?) because our values are so misaligned, but he’s not a bad guy.

5. Which of your projects means the most to you and why?

Firesoul, no doubt. It’s been an idea I’ve had since I first started writing, and the fact that I’ve been continuing to write it after all these years is a huge deal for me (i.e. a person who comes up with ideas and then abandons them forever)

6. Is there a theme that can be found in all of your projects? Was it intentional or dd you realize after the event?

Usually there’s a theme of overcoming – whether that’s overcoming self, overcoming oppression, or overcoming adversity. I don’t do it intentionally, but I think it’s definitely informed by experiences in my life, so it would feel odd to not have it.

7. What’s your favorite book to read? Does it have any similarities to your any of your writing projects?

The Inheritance Cycle is my favorite book series of all time and it absolutely informs my writing style. I’ve read the first book, Eragon, eight times, and seven of those times was before I turned 16. I’d be shocked if it didn’t.

8. What have you learnt while writing that you hope everyone knows?

That I can write whatever I want, and someone will like it, even if it’s not the someone I thought would like it.

9. What’s your biggest strength in writing?

Description, for sure.

10. What about your weakness?

Too much description.

Seriously, though, it’s plot structure. I suck at that, and I’m awful at outlines.

11. How many questions do you answer on character profile sheets when creating new characters?

I try to shoot for all of the ones that apply! But I don’t do a lot of character sheets so…

12. What do you love most about your writing?

I love my worlds and settings. I pour blood, sweat, and tears into them, and I think it really pays off.

13. What’s your favorite type of character to write?

Smart dumbasses, people who Can’t Handle Feelings, and people who Have Too Much Feelings. I have no middle ground.

14. What inspires you to write?

Life. That’s probably the most cliché answer on the planet, but I’m very informed by the things I believe and the experiences I have. Even my horror pieces (short as they are) come from places of feeling helpless in my own life, struggling with an undiagnosed anxiety and panic disorder for most of my life.

15. If you could talk to your protagonist, what advice would you give them?

I would gently hold Park’s metal robot face in my hands and tell him to Stop Taking All Responsibility For Everything. Good God. It’s not all about you, all the time.

I would tell Xinya that it’s okay to feel emotions sometimes. Yes, even that one.

I would tell Teconia that trusting people isn’t always a good thing.

I would tell Hayden that he is capable, no matter what he tells himself.

16. If you had to do an escape room with one of your characters, who would you choose and why?

Park is a robot and therefore would be very logical about all possible solutions. This could either be a great thing or a terrible thing, but I’ll take my chances with the guy with a computer for a brain.

17. How did you come up with the plot for your current wip(s)?

The God-Dragon’s Wife is inspired by a (perhaps not astoundingly written) fanfiction I read and said “Psh. I can do that.” That, and my deep held desire to marry a dragon.

Firesoul came to me at an audition for a role in my dance company’s annual Christmas show. I heard this epic, haunting music, and had a vision, essentially, of a scene from the book. Teconia herself is literally a D&D character that I liked so much I gave her a book.

Out of the Park is inspired from way back when I used to regularly play Overwatch, and my main, Zenyatta, had a skin release that was a baseball team. The rest is history/

Dragon Raising actually started as a novel that I never did anything with, because something always felt off about the delivery. When I took a comic writing class in college, everything clicked at once.

18. What’s one line/paragraph you’ve written recently that you’re proud of?

This is from a submission for a prompt month in a fandom I’m in:

Yugi didn’t believe in ghosts. It was fun to think about, sure, but he’d never seen any “real” evidence to support the idea. His friend Ryou claimed otherwise, but they’d long since learned to agree to disagree on the subject. Of course, they were both partial to a good scare – his second favorite genre for anything was horror – and they could talk about the coolest ghost stories they’d heard for hours. Still, he had never latched on to the idea of the “soul persisting after death.” It was ridiculous, for a lot of reasons. The idea of a ghost in his house – in anyone’s house – was almost laughable.

But he didn’t have a lot of other ideas to explain this.

19. Do you ever draw concept art for your writing?

I can’t draw, but if someone made me art of my WIPs, I would die LITERALLY for them.

20. What do you like most about one of your protagonists and what do you like least about them?

Xinya is a powerful woman. She’s capable and smart and will kick your ass in chess. But she’s so emotionally constipated it’s actually painful for me.

Teconia is kind, strong even if she doesn’t know it yet, and loyal to her friends and family. But she refuses to use her strength until it’s too late, which is frustrating for a lot of reasons.

Park is a dumbass. This is both the reason I love and hate him.

Hayden can do remarkable things, but he never gives himself credit for them.

21. What’s the setting of your current wip(s) and why did you choose it?

TGDW takes place in a fantasy Imperial China, which I chose because I am so sick of Fantasy Medieval Europe #4564

Firesoul takes place in Fantasy Medieval Europe #a billion, but I’m not romanticizing it. Teconia is the poorest of the poor, a racial minority, and has to keep her mage identity a secret to avoid persecution. You see exactly what that’s like in Ethallia for the average citizen, and it’s not pretty, unlike most fantasy settings where Everyone Is Good Except Our Evil King, Who Is Evil For Vague Magic Reasons.

OOTP is my personal idealized Future America, which means there is So Much Socialism. Everywhere.

Dragon Raising takes place in modern day Chicago, which I chose because wouldn’t it be hilarious if someone had to raise dragons in the middle of Chicago?

22. What are some of your strengths that make you a good writer?

I pride myself on my description and world building, as I’m sure people have picked up by now, but I’ve also been told I’m good at writing character interactions. I’ll take it!

23. Do you listen to music/have playlists to get you writing?

I’m one of those people who can’t write without music to block out the sounds of the real world. I don’t have any specific playlists for writing – I usually just shuffle my whole library.

24. Who is the character that is least like you and why?

Personality wise, it’s between Park and Yu-Qi who are the least like me.

Park thinks he has to be the one to change the world – him and him alone – which is just. Come on man. Dismount from your high horse.

Yu-Qi is closer to being the opposite of me because of our similarities, ironically enough. She’s obsessive, possessive, and in a true dragon fashion, she hoards and hoards and hoards. These are qualities I share, but desperately afraid of.

25. What is the maximum word count you are hoping for your project(s)?

Oh, this is a good question. I’ve never sat down and thought it out specifically, but I think a good novel length is 80k-200k words, so I’ll shoot for that!

26. Do you write better in the day time or at night?

Night owl. I blame it on being born at 1:30am

27. What are your OC(s) zodiac signs?

Well, considering only two of them exist in our star system, I’ll just guess!

Xinya: Virgo

Teconia: Pisces

Park: Scorpio

Hayden: Libra

28. Where do you fall on the beige to purple prose spectrum?

My prose is indigo, man. I am so close to purple it’s unreal.

29. Are you well read in the genre you hope to go into?

Absolutely! I’ve been reading fantasy since I was in first grade.

30. What are your goals for your writing career?

I want to open people’s minds and make them think about stuff that they might not have otherwise thought about. And entertain them, of course.

31. How comfortable are you with critical feedback?

PLEASE give me critical feedback, I’m begging you. My life has been plagued by minimal to no feedback on my writing and it’s so frustrating.

32. Do you enjoy reading or writing romance?

Reading it: depends. Writing it: yes, but I’ve only just gotten into it!

33. Do you annotate your books?

Depends on the book. If I’ve read it enough times to quote direct lines, then yes. I’ll never annotate a new book.

#annika talks #ask game

7 notes · View notes

tenroseforeverandever · 7 years

Text

Dear Father Christmas... Chapter 1: December 24, 2016

Cover art by the wonderful @rose--nebula!

MASTERPOST

Characters: Tentoo; Rose Tyler; Jackie Tyler; Pete Tyler; Tony Tyler; OC Hope Tyler-Noble; OC Charlotte Tyler-Noble; OC Wilfred Tyler-Noble

Rated: Teen

Tags: Family!Fic; Kid!Fic; Pete’s World; Letters to Santa; Christmas Fic; Family; Fluff; Hurt/Comfort; Angst; Romance; Love

Summary: When Rose Tyler was little, she always wrote a Christmas wish list to Father Christmas. As she grew older, the wish list became more of a letter to someone she could confide in once a year, but she fell out of the habit somewhere along the way. Now, as a new mum, celebrating her daughter’s first Christmas, Rose takes up writing her Christmas letter to Father Christmas once again.

Rose’s Christmas letters are excerpts from her life with her beloved Tentoo and their children in Pete’s World, written once a year, for each of 31 years.

Notes:

Part of my These Two Hearts series

Written for prompts provided by @doctorroseprompts over on Tumblr for their 31 Days of Ficmas celebration. I’ve played with the order of the prompts a bit, but I intend to use them all.

This will be a huge challenge for me. For those of you who know me well, you’ll know I am not a fast writer. To post one of these every day for 31 days will be pushing me well and truly to my limits. They may not all get posted on time, but they will get posted. Promise.

My eternal thanks to my brilliant betas @rose--nebula and mrsbertucci for picking up on the things I miss and for chivvying me along. ((((hugs))))

The first prompt is Hope. Please enjoy.

Also read at: AO3; FF.net; Teaspoon

December 24th, 2016

Dear Father Christmas,

Blimey! It’s been a while. I don’t think I’ve written to you since… well since Jimmy. That bloody wanker sucked the magic out of everything. He sucked the magic right out of my life. But that’s all right. The Doctor gave me back the magic and then some.

Oh my God! I just realized! Maybe you don’t even know who I am. Is Father Christmas even the same bloke in all universes? Are you a transdimensional entity? I reckon not, or else transdimensional travel would be possible, and we know for a fact it’s not, not any more.

I know I’m just being stupid. Transdimensional capabilities or not, you’re obviously just a fictional character, a product of children’s imaginations and a bloated, economy-driven society. Still, I bet the Doctor would disagree. He’d probably tell me Santa is an actual being from some planet with an unpronounceable name. Complete with elves too! I wager he’d say “lots of planets have a North Pole”. But most of his knowledge is based on the Prime Universe… for now. So even if you are real there, you may not be the same in this universe, or you may not exist at all.

Don’t suppose it matters anyway, yeah? It was just always nice to chat with you like this every year, so I guess I’ll start again. I missed this. Back in the Prime Universe, Mum got me started writing to you every Christmas Eve, even when I was just a baby. Those first notes were just a few pencil scratches. Complete rubbish. She loved them, anyway. She kept them safe for years, would bring them out every Christmas and show them around along with the naked baby photos, (especially if I had been a cow to her or we’d had a row.) But she had to leave them all behind in the Prime Universe with so much else from our lives. Embarrassing as they were, it would’ve been nice to be able to, well… Enough of that!

By the time I was four, I knew all my letters. I was so determined to do it myself, write my own Christmas wish list. Mostly it was just all the things I wanted for Christmas. But I always minded my manners. I said please and thank-you. I always asked after Mrs. Claus and the reindeer. And, I hope I was never greedy. Sorry if I was, even if you aren’t actually the right Father Christmas to apologize to.

As I got older, I realized you weren’t real (sorry!) and my letters to you became more of a diary. You know… private stuff I’d write every year, yeah. It was nice to be able to say things, to tell someone things I couldn’t say to anyone else. Course, I stopped for a while, because Jimmy… I’d never want him to find those letters and have that to hold over me. Anyway, it’s not like I’d ever had the chance to write them, working two, sometimes three jobs, just to keep that knob in fags and drink. And after a while, I just got out of the habit, and life took some good turns… and some bad turns. Then some really bad turns.

But now, life is completely brilliant! I have my Doctor by my side... forever! I have my own baby girl. (Hope’s her name and she’ll be writing you a note too this year!) And, to top it off, I’m actually dictating these letters now. Voice recognition software! The Doctor jiggery-pokeried it so when it’s printed it uses my handwriting as the font.

I’m rambling, aren’t I? Guess I’m just a bit nervous (and excited) about doing this again and getting Hope started too.

I think you’ll like Hope. But I’m warning you, I don’t think she’s quite like other babies. Well, I know she isn’t. She’s her father’s daughter, that’s for sure. Nine months old, and she’s already talking up a storm. Full sentences! Just watch, she’ll be able to use this voice recognition software… Course, I don’t know what her handwriting font will look like, ‘cause she’s pretty much like a normal baby in her gross and fine motor development, so no handwriting just yet. Her verbal and cognitive development, though… the doctors at Torchwood say it’s off the charts.

It scares me if I’m being honest. I don’t know how I can ever be a mum to her… a proper mum. Thank God I have the Doctor by my side to keep her entertained, because she takes in absolutely everything and it’s never enough. But he “gets” her. He knows how to keep her happy. We take her on adventures (safe ones, don’t worry!) all through space and time. And we explore. Oh, we explore so much!

But it’s so different from the way I explored as a kid, ya know? Here’s an example. We go to a beach, yeah, with rock pools and lovely sand too, and the water is so warm and wavy. Now me, as a kid, I’d splash in the waves and muck about in the sand with my pail and spade. And at the rock pool, I’d poke at a few beasties and squeal about them. It was all just in fun. But with Hope, everything is so intense. She investigates everything, and her Daddy is right there with her, coaxing her to connect the dots herself, filling in the bits she’s missed. The starfish (sorry, sea star − I must use proper terminology!) was carefully examined, all its little bits explored and then thoroughly researched back at the TARDIS, and not just the names of the bits, but the hows and whys of them too.

And then the Doctor reads to her… not baby books, but Harry Potter and Narnia and Oliver Twist. She’s even sounding out some parts herself. He’ll break out the sciencey stuff, the physics and chemistry and biology, and the maths too, when it has something to do with what happened on our adventure that day. And she hangs on every word. I don’t know if she understands everything he reads her, but she sure understands a lot of it.

She’s just so tiny, just an infant, but her mind is so big. Definitely bigger on the inside, our child is! I love her like I never thought I could love anyone, but I’m so frightened that… that… well, that she won’t love me, a stupid ape. How can I be a proper mum to her when she already knows more about bloody sea stars than I ever will?

Then there are those times when I hold her in my arms and feed her at my breast, when I snuggle her to sleep, and I breathe in her sweet baby smell. It’s almost normal. Sometimes I can even get her giggling, completely out of control, over the most simple things, like peek-a-boo. And when she bumps her head, her arms immediately come up for me to hold her and kiss it better. Me! That makes me feel like a proper mum.

You should have seen her when we were putting up the Christmas tree this afternoon. Her fat little fingers were grabbing for all those bright shiny baubles, and her eyes were so wide and she didn’t know where to look first because it was all so pretty. And then Daddy came prancing down the stairs from the console room wearing a big red light-up nose and huge felt antlers on his head, and we were all in hysterics. I really felt like part of the family, and I kind of realized I don’t always feel that way.

It’s made me think, though, going forward, I really need to make a place for her in my life as she grows. I always used to love to paint and draw. Once upon a time, I was even going to go for my A-levels in art. Before Jimmy. I’d like to take that up again, and I could teach her too, eventually, when she can actually hold a brush. Maybe we could do that together. And singing and dancing, not to mention gymnastics when she’s old enough.

Blimey! This has been one weird Christmas letter, yeah? And I haven’t even asked for any presents. I honestly just want my family to be healthy and happy, and I want to be able to be a proper mum to Hope. Not really stuff you can just hide under the tree.

Oh! Here comes Hopie now, in her Daddy’s arms, all fresh from her bath. Hey there, baby girl! Are you ready to write your letter to Father Christmas? C’mere, sit on Mummy’s lap and maybe Daddy will make us a cuppa. (Thanks, love!) And, my darling girl, as soon as you’re finished with your letter, we better head right over to see Gran and Grandad and Uncle Tony. There’ll be hell to pay if we’re late! (I hear you moaning, Doctor!)

Okay, Father Christmas, here’s me, signing off for this year. Lots of love to Mrs. Claus and all the reindeer and elves too! Thanks for listening to me whinge. It really helped to get it off my chest. I know, I know! I need to tell the Doctor how I’ve been feeling, but I don’t want him going and feeling guilty just because he’s being a bloody amazing dad. But I’ll talk to him; I promise.

Happy Christmas!

love, Rose

#doctorroseprompts #31 days of ficmas 2017 #kid fic #family fic #tentoo x rose #ficandchips #pete's world #letters to santa #christmas fic #fluff #angst #love #hurt/comfort #tenroseforeverandever's fic

18 notes · View notes

aghostlydeer · 7 years

Text

The Unfinished Cut of Project: Crimson (very First draft)

Rating: General (since this never got too deep into any serious topic)

Relationships: Jason Todd/OC

Tags: First Person, Unfinished, First Draft, Old Writing, Out of Character Jason

Notes: This was the very first draft of my long in progressed fan fiction, Project: Crimson. This is about Jason meeting a young boy named Morgan Kingsley and it focuses on their story together, becoming friends, facing their mental, and daily struggles. Over time they end up falling in love with each other but I wanted the main focus of this story was understanding the both of the characters.

I wrote this many, MANY years ago. Mind you, I just sort of started taking writing more seriously at the age of creating this… But I do not think it is all that great. Though I remind myself that we all start somewhere and this is not that bad.

In fact, at the age that I wrote this I think it is pretty decent and there are some things that I wish I kept using for writing. I think that some parts I took more seriously in writing whereas other parts it is easily shown that I felt tired of writing this story.

I gave an annoyed sigh. I tapped at the notebook I was writing in because I had no idea of what I was supposed to say. Or to write for that matter. What was there to say? Sometimes I wondered why I wrote whenever I was upset. It faltered everything I was working for. With yet another sigh, I shoved my notebook into my backpack and walked on. I had no idea of where I was or where I had planned on going but as far away from home as possible.

I was tired of everything at home as well as all of the people within my household. Which was just my father. And honestly, he never did anything wrong. He was right in our fight but I at that point I was young and I over reacted to such a fight. I was childish and had cried because he took away my art supplies (which looking back on that, I noticed that I was indeed quite a fool at the time), he told me that I had to work for my art much like he had to work for many things in his life. As if it was not the only thing keeping my life in tact. I sometimes never understood why taking such important things away from your child was a good idea, but my father strongly believed that it would help so I did not fight back. I was never a trouble maker in the first place so it almost never happened. Though what had caused such a fight was yet another fight that happened at school. I was getting insulted by some other male over a stupid thing, I don’t recall what he was saying really but it made me so upset that I punched him and broke his nose. Of course I was sent to the office and I had a wonderful talk with the principle. He told me that he was going to call my father and I begged him not to do so because he would happen to be at work at during this time of day. He called anyway. With me sitting in the chair. Sitting helplessly, awaiting my fate for what he was about to say to me. I had to be sent home early that day and awaited for my dad to come home. He always came late, around ten at night which is an hour before I went to bed every night except on weekends because I stayed by late during that time. This time I went to bed early only to be woken up by him shaking my shoulder and asking me what happened to make me react in such manners. I hated being woken up, I gave him a scoffed answer which made him upset at me. He admitted to me that he was proud of the fact that I fought back with the insults. Then he commented on how it was not the best idea to punch the boy in the face. I nodded, but felt like crap after words for how I structured my answer towards him. In fact; I felt pretty sick about for everything that I had said. Things were pretty normal until I started to draw more than work on my missing homework. My father was pretty mad at this and he grounded me from drawing. Really, I do not blame him for what he did, but I was mad. I was so very angry and it was silly. I thought in the fit of my rage that would have been a good idea to run away and to never come back. It was stupid, but I remembered that I saved fifty dollars just in case something like this would happen. I packed my things (like clothes, a notebook, art pencils, my iPod, you know, things that we need to live with) into my violin case and backpack. I felt smart at the moment despite something in my head would scream in my ear that I would regret what I was about to do. When I was done packing my things, I opened my window and left my house in a haste. It took awhile to have someone who was willing to walk me to the subway but after ten minutes of asking someone did so. When I got on there, I just decided to go as far as I could without really leaving the state of New York. I had some money, though I knew it was not enough and I had plenty of clothes. Maybe I could not eat for a few days and buy a water bottle. I did not think this through and I was being stupid, but this was normal for a teenager. The night rolled by and I found that the subway was stopping at a city named Gotham. I found that I was sleeping when the announcer said had told the passengers this. Sounded like no one was getting out so I walked out of the subway (it was getting too crowded for me anyways). Once I got out of there, I soon regretted it. You could taste the pollution is the air. I found myself wanting to throw up from such toxins in the air. How could anyone live like this? I thought my city was bad with that sort of thing, but here it was worse. Maybe I should have left New York, or the rural area. Maybe I should have left for a smaller town that was calm and nice? I highly doubted that I could have though. I didn’t know if they subway could go that far. Truth be told, I had never ever rode on one before that day. It was always too loud and for someone like me, I did not need that. I kept walking into the streets, tapping my cane all over the place, no one talked to me, which was nice. I thought that someone surely would have walked up to me and try and mug me, but the people most likely did not see the point in doing that to me. After all, I had nothing worth of much value aside from what I thought was important to me. Maybe this was just a wealthy city and they thought of as some sort of street rat. Oh well! As long as nothing happened to me, I was fine! Things were going to be fine, I reminded myself. If I was smart and kept my distance from anything that seems strange or odd, then I’ll be safe! It seemed so easy if I thought about it. I began to wonder to myself why I could not do this in a quicker time. That is, until I bumped into someone. I mean, really bumped into. I fell on my ass because the person, felt like a man, that I bumped into must have been heavy. Or well fitted into the ground. I could have bumped into a statue. Tisking myself, and rubbing my hand quickly on my back because I did not want to rub my rump in front of the public eye, I quickly said that I was sorry to the person and tried to walk on. I patted myself down when I realised that there was a bit of dust on myself, only now noticing that my mind made little to no sense when I monolog things, but it is my head, I could help it. I felt like if I stayed around for much longer I would have been killed or something of the sort, but a hand (it felt rough it had quite a grip) grabbed my shoulder. I froze, thinking to myself that this is not what I needed that I would die. Why was I so stupid? “Kid, you all right? You fell pretty hard.” The voice asked, I was right about it being a male. I did not turn my head to make it look like I was facing him. “Yes, I am fine. Great to be honest. Now please let me go. I have to go else where.” I answered quickly, trying my best to avert his voice from my head. There was a moment of silence, then the man spoke up again. “You’re blind, aren’t you? Well shit, now I feel guilty and I don’t even know why!” “Don’t worry about it too much, okay?” I swatted his hand from my shoulder in a polite manner. “It happens all of the time and it’s my fault every single time that it does occur.” “Christ sake, it was not! You didn’t even notice I was there, the street is- Wait, what is up with the violin case you’re holding?” His tone seemed to have some worry to it, but why would he care? “It’s just a violin, I don’t even know you, so let me on-” “Yeah, I call bulshit to that statement. Listen; this isn’t really a safe place and it is past curfew for your time so I think you should go back to wherever you came from, or whatever. I don’t know, maybe you’re like me and like to li-” “Mister, I think it’s best that I be on my way.” I muttered under my breath, trying my best to avoid much more of this topic. “As I was sa-” “Who are you?” I asked, becoming rather annoyed this man would not leave me alone. “Right, should’ve introduced ourselves before hand, right? Jason’s the name. What’s yours?” Jason answered. He sounded like a Jason. “Morgan.” I answered quickly. It was not my birth name, but I went by it. Besides, nobody would go looking for a Morgan Kingsley Stephens in New York, so I was pretty safe at the moment. “I’m Morgan and my violin case is fine. Now can you please leave me alone? I-” “Kid, are you running away? From here?” He asked. The question stung a little. I had hoped that no one would ask me, so I shrugged. “Does it matter in the first place? Why do you care?” “Don’t know. Maybe because you’re blind and it would suck if you were to get mugged and all of the crap. Now to the big question, you running away?” I didn’t answer for a moment. Finding it odd that this whole time we were talking we kept walking on. I had no idea where I had planned on going, but I was getting further and further away from home. Maybe this man knew of a safe place to where I could go? I didn’t want to ask because it would be strange to do so. “I guess you can say that. In reality I am trying to teach him a lesson.” “Uh-huh... What lesson might that be?” “I’m trying to teach him that grounding me for no reason at all is a pointless thing to do because I will always get out of it in some way.” “Stepfather?” “No. Real father.” Things were quiet for a moment before Jason spoke again. “Listen; I’m not good with kids and all, but I know that you shouldn’t run away from whatever happened between you and your dad. Unless he happened to be abusing you. Then you call the police for that, though there are times where they don’t really help out with things.” He was speaking too fast for my to care what he was saying, I just kept walking. “We had a fight, I told you this already! Nothing much to it aside from that. I mean, he is a good dad! For me that is. I am not really a people’s person, really he is the only person I could handle for many hours of the day. He works a lot though, so I’m never really to have long talks with him.” Now I was speaking far more than I should have. I highly doubted that this stranger cared at this point too. “How long have you been away from your home then?” “I don’t even have a clue.” “A few hours?” “Might be. What time is it now?” “I don’t carry a watch around me at all times! Geez, I’m guessing it’s early in the morn-” “WHAT?!” I yelped out. I could hear that this startled the man by the sudden speed of his heart pounding, but in slowed down a little bit afterwards. “Yeah. Kind of doing this night patrol thing until you bumped into me... Hey, you hungry? ‘Cause I’m starving!” “Uh, no, not really-” I stopped myself, when would I get the time to have free food like this again during this? “You know what, I kind of am!” “Great.” He grabbed my hand, again the grip was far too tight for my liking. He began to walk faster to the point where I knew he was in front of me. I almost tripped on my feet. Which was strange to me because I thought that I was pretty good on my feet. “Have you ever had back alley way food?” He asked quickly. Why was he holding my hand? Oh well, might’ve thought that was better than just telling me where to go. “My father never took me out for food, so I had to learn how to make things myself, besides restaurants never had the appeal to me in the first place.” I answered. “You taught yourself how to cook? How can a blind person cook without sight? I mean, doesn’t that equal out to cutting your fingers a lot?” “It does. I have the scars to prove it too!” I was quite proud of them to be honest. They reminded me that I never gave up a fight when I was determined to win or learn something. “Whoa. That was way too happy! Do you need help?” Jason laughed softly while he said this. “I don’t know, I have worse cuts on my body. I am proud of all of them if I were to be honest.” I answered underneath my breath. “Okay then... As I was saying, I know this pretty cheap pizza place that is pretty good, I am kind of craving that at the moment and since you’re here I thought I should do my one good deed of the day and treat you to some.” He told me, his grip on my hand getting tighter which made me feel really uncomfortable. “Thank you for that, it is awfully kind of you to do this, but I am kind of a vegan. Do they only sell pizza?” I questioned. I didn’t know why I said I was vegan, but the idea of hot greasy food setting foot into my mouth just made me feel sick. “They have a salad bar, but I’m not into that kind of stuff right now.” He answered. “Tell you the truth; I’m never into it.” I chuckled when he said that. I heard a door open and smelt the food that overwhelmed the area. It was indeed an area that made pizza their life, I really felt like I should’ve thrown up. I told myself not to. I didn’t really hear a lot of voices but I also smelt alcohol in the air. I did not want to cause attention on the man who happened to be buying me food so I did not say to him that I was only seventeen. “Jason Peter Todd!” I heard a man call out. “Long night, huh?” He asked, he sounded like he was far away and his voice was scruffy, but it seemed nice. “Been all right, pretty boring day to be honest. I really wanted to have a fight or something tonight! But I guess something in the air has made everyone pretty calm or whatever.” Jason answered, getting closer to the scruffy voiced man. He was still holding my hand which at this point made me want to squirm out of it. He reached the counter and sat on one of the chairs at last letting go of my hand. “Hey, Morgan, sit down.” He commanded to me. Shocked by his tone of vice, I sat down. “Who’s this?” The man asked him politely. “He looks a little too young to be on the streets.” “Oh? He’s is a runaway. His name’s Morgan, or at least that’s what he told me. He’s pretty nice, I guess.” He answered, nudging his elbow on my arm. At least he was telling the truth. I guess. Though I didn’t like him talking about me like I was not there. “You know, I’m right here.” I said under my breath. “Right, right. Why’d you run away from home, kiddo?” The man asked.

“A stupid fight with my dad. Nothing that bad, but I was an idiot and thought that I was smarter than him and left in a hurry.” I answered, I was picking at my scabs that were on my fingers. “Sounds like a teenage thing to do.” Jason laughed out. I could hear the smile of his face. “Indeed. In fact, it seems like something you would do. If you didn’t beat your dad up before running off.” The man said with a low chuckle. He turned his back and handed the other man that was sitting next to me a glass. “That’s low, don’t bring my dad into this.” Jason said after he was done taking a sig of his drink from his glass, he coughing a little from it. “Right, forgot. So, what are you here for?” “I’m hungry and so is this kid. Do you have any vegan food for him?” “Not really, aside from the salad bar. By the way, you’re being awfully nice to this kid.” The man leaned on the counter, whispering something into Jason’s ear, I was sure of it. He might of thought that I couldn’t hear him if he were to whisper ?something, but I did hear what he had to say. “Is it because he is a red head?” I knew this nearly made the other man jump. “No, that’s not my thing!” He said a little too quickly for comfort for my taste. The room was awkwardly silent for a minute, for the moment it was best to be quiet. I remember being told that talking without being told to do so was never a good idea. I couldn’t help it though, I let out a giggle and waited for someone to tell me that I shouldn’t have done that, but Jason sat down again and told the man at the counter to give him his order. “You sure you’re really vegan? You could just set aside those beliefs or whatever for the night. I won’t tell anyone.” He was teasing me, I knew this, but I shrugged. “Maybe one night, as long as the pizza doesn’t have meat on it.” I told him with a slight smile. “Sweet. Order for two cheese pizzas then. Sounds fair to me.” “You’re not buying me a whole pizza! There’s no fucking way I’m-” I clamped my mouth shut tight when I shouted this. I had no place in shouting. Jason laughed loudly at this, he may have been either drunk or he must’ve thought that was stupidly funny. Something lame like that. “Dude, don’t worry about swearing! I ain't judging you.” “It’s just not something I do. It’s a waste of breath.” I quickly explained which made him chuckle. “Are you dying?” He asked playfully. “No. I’m not dying, I just do not want to waste my breath in case I do die someday. So I can have all of my unwasted breath to waste when that day comes.” I explained to him. It was difficult to say why I wanted that because I was sure that if it were to happen, I would be okay with death coming into my life. “Wow. That’s some deep thinking right there. I give you cheers on that.” He told me. Once the glass of whatever he had been drinking was finished, he slammed it on the counter. When we got the pizza, we ate it in silence, but when that was over with, we talked for awhile. We were just messing around, telling each other jokes but anytime I asked him a question he would avoid it and ask me tons of questions. It was somewhat tiring answering all of these questions. Do you live with both parents? No. I’ve lived with only my dad my whole life. I don’t know my mother that well, but in all honesty I do not mind that. How old are you? That is nothing that you should be worried about. It’s of my right to do so if I took you into a bar. Seventeen. No way! I thought you were older than, well, really, you look younger than seventeen. I’ll act like I’m surprised by how young you are though. Okay, so tell me, what is your house life like living with a single father and being blind? Uh, it’s pretty normal. As normal as it can be I guess. He’s busy with work often and we rarely find the time to talk, but when we do we usually get along. After a few more questions, we went back to joking around. It was refreshing to have someone that I could relate to in some way. It was nice to have someone to talk to really. That wasn’t so sad about life and talked about only that. He had me wheezing at one point from laughter, I don’t recall what he said that had me laughing so hard, but it was silly. That is when he brought up something about this guy called Batman. I had no idea who that was, so I just thought it was a man’s head on this body of a bat. I said this out loud which made him laugh because he imagined how that looked like. He began to explain what it would have been like if Manbat came in and took this Batman’s place. Then he started to laugh out about this giant bat flying around, making these annoying bat sounds. Jason would laugh hard at how this was playing out in his head, he would keep going about the whole topic at hand though. “He just flies around the city, cawing because he’s so confused as to what he is, just... Flying around! And..” He giggled out, “I can’t even think of the mes he would make! I mean, he would just shit everywhere!” I choked back a laugh as well as a little pizza, I could not believe that he would go into the direction in topic over something that really did not need to be discussed. “Ah, I can just see this. Officer Gordon looking up in the sky while the police clean up the piles of shit that was left behind by him. He cleanses his fist, a tear drains from his left eye as he whispers ‘Such a mighty hero!’. I can just see that and then Manbat caws again and shits on his face!” I must have had a horrified expression because he stopped discussing this. “You have a strange sense of humour...” I said to him.

He let out a giggle then we went back to talking. He told me about his brothers and a little bit about his father. A wealthy man that went by the name of Bruce Wayne. Jason seemed to sound a little bittersweet while he talked about this Wayne figure, so I tried not to speak of him. It seemed rude if I kept doing so. He began to ask things about my father, I answered all of them with much truth, but sometimes they became a little odd. Is he a good caretaker? Yes. He is. He is perfect for me. Then why would you run away from such a great parent if you love them so much?

I guess I needed some space from him. You rarely get to talk to him though. I understand this, but I feel as if he or I will grow tired of each other if we spend too much time with one another. That’s really weird to think about. I’m sorry, but how does that mind set even work? You love each other, you do not spend enough- You are nothing to me in my life aside from a stranger, mister Jason! I stood up out of anger, my face hot from this sudden person in my life wanting to know so much about me. It made me more than upset. “You have no right to get into my mind like you knew me for years! I do not even know who You are! So stop it! Please!” There was an awkward, I felt stupid. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it.” “You meant every word of it. Don’t feel bad about it.” He chuckled, then he grabbed my wrist for me to sit back down. I suppose I was causing a scene, which made my face even more hotter than it should’ve been. “Try not to worry so much about such a simple thing, all right? Not your fault. I just have bad trust issues. Like you. Hell, they might be worse than yours.” He said to me while bumping my shoulder. I frowned. I felt like I really was just being a little twat to him. “Still, I’m sorry for yelling at you. I shouldn’t have. I mean, here you are, wanting to talk to me, wanting to know about me, buying pizza for me! It’s all rather nice and this is something I would expect out of a date, but I’m not that kind of guy. I mean, I may like guys but you can not just get into my pants because you did all of this for me!” I heard him make a small gasp, but I kept going, I needed to say this. “Maybe one day we can be a couple, or maybe we are friends, or maybe you’ll always be a stranger to me! I don’t know, I can’t see the futu-” “You can’t see anything at all.” He corrected me. “Fuck off. Let me finish what I have to say. It is nice that you’re doing this. You are pretty fun to be around as well, but if you’re only doing this to sleep with me or to only have a one night stand with me then you have another thing coming! I am free. I am myself. I know what is best for me and everyone else around me! I have my r-” “I promise I’m not trying to sleep with you.” “Welllllll...” I dragged out saying. “...If that is the case, then thank you for doing all of this for me.” There was an awkward silence between he and I until he spoke again. “What happened to you to make you react that way?” “What? What way?” “That way. All yelly, getting up and stomping your foot down. I was afraid that you were going to run out because... I don’t know! I don’t think I said anything wrong!” “That’s where you’re wrong. I’m not just some spoiled brat from a lawyer who never pays attention to me, all right? I understand why he can’t. He’s busy with a lot of things, but I am bitter over how that panned out with our relationship.” I became quiet, but I knew Jason wanted to hear more of what of what I had to say. I gave him a sigh. “Things happen, odd stuff. It has made me become not so sweet anymore. Everyday I feel my innocence slip away from me. I feel like I am not even able to fully be there for my friends. Which makes me feel horrible. It’s more of the fact that I’m not going with speaking towards people.” I thought of what I should say next, but I muttered under my breath, “It’s hard just finding the courage to wake up in the morning when you can’t even see the light of a new day...” He muttered something under his breath when I finished what I had to say. “I’m sorry you feel that way.”

(AN: I normally hate putting these in, but I found these stories in sets of emails given to my boyfriend, so I am missing some parts, and I also changed things up- So, I am very sorry if it gets confusing and weird. From the looks of it, it seems to go into more detail about what is going on with Morgan and Jason..? Aga)

“Do I look like I carry a watch around at all times?” He asked defensively. I heard a slap and a long groan.

“I wouldn’t- Wait a second, was that a blind joke?” I asked, getting close to him now, I was pointing an accusing finger but I didn’t know where I was pointing it at.

He pushed my hand away and said, “No, I wasn’t. It just came out that way, I swear.” He replied kind of in a shy manner. Odd. “I don’t know... Last time I checked it was already midnight and I’m guessing it’s about a few hours later now...?”

“WHAT?!” I choked a little. Then coughed. “What did you say?” I inquired quickly, massaging my Adam’s apple from that unexpected gagging. I shook my head a little and frowned. Did that much time really pass or was I not paying any attention? Such foolishness on my part!

“Hey, uh... Morgan, calm down! Nothing bad, it’s nothing bad!” Jason attempted but failed in calming me down but I couldn’t help it, I was sweating and close to screaming.

How could I do that?! How could I be so possibly foolish?! I was close to screaming, but that would not be wise and I did not want to look more witless than I already had so far that day.

“What’re you even worried about in the first place? If you were running away from home most people would be happy that it took them this many hours to get that far away! Unless that wasn’t your plan at all and you came here by mistake.” He seem to be off in a rambling fit which didn’t ease my mind. I almost felt faint in a way.

I wanted to tell him to stop talking or to shut up, but I stopped myself from doing so. I wasn’t into being upset. That was something I just do not do. Expect I was very close to it. The closet I have been to doing it in a long time. “Kid, you okay?”

I didn’t even know I had my arms close to me, shaking a little. No, I was trembling. I must have looked stupid doing that, but none of the less I was worried that I did something wrong.

“Are you alright?” He asked more sternly.

“I..I honestly do not know if I can be fine...” I replied.

“Hey, listen to me: Everything will be okay. You did what you wanted and you got far. You’re doing a great job!” I could hear him smiling. It wasn’t something cruel, a true smile but it was not something I wanted to have someone do for me.

“B-but I... I don’t even know this city!” I almost felt like I was about to cry but that would have been silly. Definitely overreacting.

“Aha! So I was right!” Jason sounded like he was some sort of champion of a big prize.

“Yes, you were! Happy now?”

“Ah, kid, don’t be so upset...” He trailed off for a moment. “Are you hungry? ‘Cause I am starving!”

“Uh...” I was so hungry, but I still didn’t know if I could trust him or not.

“Come on, it’s on the house and I can even let you stay at my place.”

“UH...” Was the only way I could respond with. Maybe he was being kind towards me... Maybe I can trust him. Plus, here was a man offering me free food and shelter! When was that even going to happen again? “Yes, I am very ravenous and I appreciate you offering your home to me and I will gladly take that. Thank you.”

“Not only are you welcome, you are pretty smart too.” He chuckled a little.

“How so?” I asked, very confused.

“First you showed that you didn’t trust me, then you started to think-- I could just hear your head working like clockwork! Then you started to really think about it ‘Free food, free house?’ and then you agreed to it because you wo-”

“Can you read minds or something?” I asked yet again.

He laughed more loudly. Almost wheezing. “No, I can’t do that! Wish I could thought ‘cause I could stop asking so many questions! Buuuut at the same time I’m happy I can’t ‘cause it would suck having to hearing everyone all at the same time.”

I almost ran into a pole, I reached my hand out and climbed of the stump it was on, I spun around on it because why the hell not and got back down to the street. “I understand what you mean, it would indeed stink if a person would have to hear everything. What would their child be like while going to school? That would have been horrible.”

“No doubt ‘bout that. School was already hell for me when I was in it.” He patted my shoulder which made me jump a little.

“Same here.” I hated school. It was difficult to handle all of those different smells and the voices were too much. People bumping into me and vise-versa. It was a pain in the ass to say the least. Going into detail, school was one of the places I never wanted to go into.

“Aren’t you still in school?”

“I was expelled.”

“Oh...”

“A few days ago in fact.”

“Damn, what did you do to make school kick you out?”

“I sort of beat the living hell out of this one guy that wouldn’t leave me alone.” I explained, kind of rubbing the back of my neck while explaining.

“Was he putting you in the corner?”

“A little.” I was feeling kind of odd... This man really wanted to know me.

I now remember that the reason why I did that to that man was because he stole my journal and began to make fun of the things I wrote down in it. It got out of line at one point and I at first punched his jaw and then the next thing I knew I was on top of him, punching his face, I can still remember the smell of the blood that was on the floor and on my hands. I was growling and I didn’t know I was able to do that!

And that is when everything else happened. That is how I got suspended and that is what made my father ground me and that is when I ran away from home.

“How about when we get to where we’re gonna eat you can tell me why. How about that?” He asked me, he brushed his elbow to my side and that made me smile wide. Then I jumped over the touch. I wasn’t expecting that until it was too late.

“Not too touchy.” It was more of a realization than a question.

“Yeah... I just- I am not into people touching.” I assured him. Truth is: I loved touching people but it just stopped suddenly when I was pretty young. I am not quite sure what made it stop but suddenly, like a drop of a hat, even the slightest touch made me jump. I guess that was normal to people because most understood right off the bat.

I was never not into touching people like my father or having my siblings touch me either-- Goodness, that sounded a lot worse than it really is!

“Understood. Sucks though, you might have to get used to that again.”

A strange feeling crept through me. What was he implying? “How about this...” I brushed my hands together, biting my bottom lip. It felt plumbed today, kind of puffy, “...We have that meal together and I’ll decide if I will stay with you, sounds fair?”

“Yeah, it does. Honestly I was a little surprised that you agreed to stay with me so quickly.”

“Yet you understood why...” Something kept screaming at me to run, get away from this man but I felt as if he was... He was safe. I felt connected in a way. “Either way I am happy you are going out of your way for me. To help me that is.”

He touched my shoulder gently. “No problem, kiddo.”

I flinched a little. Maybe it was because we barely knew each other or maybe because I.. I missed having people touch me without pulling back. Or maybe.. Maybe it was because when he did touch me, I felt something. Something that was tingling and it was nice.

“Sorry, I forgot!” He lifted his hand up.

“No, it’s fine!” I really like the way that feels.

Darn it head. I curse the sun that gives you life!

“Ohoho, is it now? What changed- Ahh, here we go!” Jason took my wrist and opened the door to some place. “Have you ever had back alley food?” He asked me while we got inside the area.

I could smell pizza being made in ovens, burgers being fried and alcohol. Was this a pub? Was I in a Pub?!

“My dad was never into eating out so he taught me how to cook by myself along with him.” I explained, rubbing my hands together frantically. That was something I did if I was becoming too worried.

“Consider this a beginning step to the first chapter of your life then!” He squeezed my shoulders a little.

He leaned on me suddenly, I could feel his breath, it was hot and a little wet but it wasn’t unpleasant. “I should’ve asked a little earlier but how old are you anyways?” He was whispering now.

“Seventeen.” I answered just as softly.

“Wow!” He spoke up a little more. “What?” I turn my head to face his.

“I thought you were twelve, oh thank God you are not!” He clapped his hands together and I heard a sounds like he was rubbing the together. “You just look so much younger than you are. Might take me awhile to believe that you are your age but still.”

“I know for a damn well fact I am the age I claim to be.” I assured him which made him laugh softly.

“Either way we have to convince the people that you are older than that.”

“Yeah, I know.” I sort of pushed him off of me. So this was a pub that he brought me into? Some way to start a ‘New Life’ with.

“Don’t be so upset with me! Lets just have fun with this, okay?”

“Okay, I’ll try my best.”

I could swear I heard him murmur ‘Good boy’ to me. We sat at a table and waited for something to give our menus to us. When a voice of a young woman came in, I heard her voice.

“Evening to you boys, here’s your menus and drinks-” She began with what I guess was her routine lines that she gave to people who came here until Jason interrupted her.

“Sorry Hope, but this love guy can’t read what’s on there.” He corrected her.

“Oh, sorry for the confusion! Um... Well we don’t have those kinds of menus but you would willing to read him what’s on there, right?” She asked Jason. With the way her tone was, it almost sounded she was flirting with him.

“I was planning on it.” He told her, he sounded a little annoyed.

Maybe it was because this woman was asking him something despite him knowing he was going to do it, may have been for other reasons, I didn’t want to know at all. Something in the back of my mind told me that he didn’t like to be told what to do (I kind of respected that) or to have his intelligence be questioned.

I understood that.

“Thank you for getting it out in the first place, dear.” I told her anyways.

“Okay, I’ll be coming back in a few when you’re ready to make your orders!” She told us and I heard a ‘Bye’ that was soft. Ugh, lord tell me she isn’t flirting with either of us.

“Sorry ‘bout that. I don’t even know her but she knows me somehow.” He explained.

“Oh, so you have a creepy fangirl stalker without your clue..” I wiggled in my seat, smiling, close to laughing a little.

“Don’t even remind me of it, it happens almost all of the time.” He was chuckling a little and I could tell that he was shrugging and that he wore a smile on his face while shaking his head. “Do you have anything preferences with any kind of food?”

“I am a vegetarian.”

“What?! That’s insane? How could someone not eat meat? Man, I can’t think of giving that up. I eat it all of the time. Soo good!”

“I just do not like it compared to other types of food. There’s better types other than meat. I mean- at least I’m not vegan.”

“Hnn. That’s true, if you were that be a pain in the fucking ass.”

“Oh, tell me about it. My older brother is one and he is such a little- We should get to the orders, shouldn’t we?”

“Right, right. Okay, so I’m guessing you would like to have a salad, cheese pizza and... Wow... I forgot how much this place relies on meat...” Jason muttered to himself after that.

Maybe that was one of the reasons my dad never took me out. My whole family was vegetarian. He also thought that homemade food is always better than even food from a five star restaurant. I believe that before he became a lawyer, he wanted to become a chef. He cooks the best food, I swear.

“Guess I brought you to the wrong place, but the desserts look like they might be up your alley! Unless you’re also not into sweets. If that’s the case, what is wrong with you?” He was teasing me, I knew it.

“Just to let you know, I love sweets. I love it to the point where I would only eat that all day if I could.”

“Mm, good taste. Would you like to just do it then or would you like some pizza before then?”

“I’ve...” I trailed off a little. “...I’ve never had pizza before quite frankly.”

“You’ve never lived then, this place has some pretty nice pizza let me tell you.”

“I hear that pizza is pretty good, I just don’t like how it smells.” I went quiet for a moment. I wasn’t quite sure what else to say other than I thought they smelt gross and greasy.

“You’ve never smelt good pizza then, kid.”

“Is that so?” I asked, gaining yet another smile. I didn’t understand what was so charming about him but he kept making me smile and it was really nice. I wasn’t really someone who smiled too often.

“Yeah! Trust me, once you have some you will be addicted to it. I might have to send you to rehab because you will become so addicted to it!”

“Why are you being so nice to me?” I whispered.

“Was staying up late to find something to do when I came across you. Plus I need to do my one good deed for today. So why not help you out? Hope that helps you out.”

I had to give this question chance. “Were you following me when I walked out of the subway station?”

“What...?”

“Ah, it’s nothing, ignore what I had asked.”

“No, I am not going to. Why would you ask that? Were you being followed?”

“I don’t know.”

I felt rattling coming from my pocket where the bottle of pills were. God I hope he didn’t hear that. “I don’t think I was. I am just a very paranoid person, trust me.”

“Hnn, I can understand that. I guess I am too.”

It must have been awhile because the woman came back (I’m going to call her ‘Hope’ from now on), I could smell her over dosage of perfume, it made me cough a little. “Hello again, what would you boys like to order?” I swear I could just hear a smile on her face.

“I’ll have a large steak, medium rare. No sauce and I’m in the mood for Ginger Ale tonight.”

“No drinks? Wow, that’s the first, Jay! Are you on a d-”

“I just don’t want any tonight.”

“Oh, okay... And what would you like?” She sounded more hopeful when she asked me that.

“I would like a medium sized cheese pizza with a glass of ice water, please.”

“Can do!” She clicked her pen, tearing the paper she must have been writing on right off. There was the sound of her heels tap as she walked away from the table we were sitting.

There was a long silence.

“Where are you from?” He asked, he was tapping his fingers on the table.

I didn’t know how to answer this question so instead, I took some paper napkins out of it’s dispenser and started to fold them. Once they were folded in the way I liked it, I started to rip the napkins apart.

“I’m from Blüdhaven.” I answered slowly. Before I entered into the subway, I felt the imprint of the name so it is better to say I was from there.

“Awfully close to here but you don’t seem like you have ever heard of this place.”

“Well I am from there.” Is all I could muster up and say with confidence. “Then at the age of ten, I moved to North Ireland to live with my family. At the age of fifteen I moved to Queens, New York.” The last part is true though.

“Mhm... You were sent to live in North Ireland with your family? Where were you living before then?”

“You wanna know something? You sure ask a lot more questions then you need to know, Jason.”

“Sorry..” He sighed a little and seemed like he was pulling his bangs while talking. “Something I do, besides wouldn’t you ask a lot of questions to some wandering kid on the streets?”

“Admittedly, I am someone who takes great pride in asking questions to people but I highly doubt that you are not in the mood to have things turned around. Besides, I am going to be your roommate. In a way I suppose so it is best if you get to know me before you regret anything in the end.” I did want to know more about Jason, but that becking in my head kept telling me that it would be best that I knew the least about the young man.

He snapped his fingers. “You’re pretty clever when it comes to this, have you done this more than once?”

More than I would like to admit. “I wouldn’t say that I have...”

Hope came back to us with our drinks. Once she set mine on the table, I chugged it down quickly. She giggled at that and walked away.

“Right... Can you just tell me if I get into a touchy subject?”

“I think you already have, dear.” I cracked my knuckles and took my glasses off, massaging the bridge of my nose after all of that.

“Have I? Dude, I’m so sorry. I just like to ask questions because of things that have happened to me in the past.” He explained suddenly.

“I get it, I understand. You have nothing to worry over. I just would like to ask you things later on- Don’t you dare tell me that you’re someone who ask questions and avoids the other parties. That’s just not a fair game, Jason.”

“I don’t play fair.”

“You’ll have to grow used to doing that for me then for so h-” Hope brought us our food. Damn, Jason was right. I never was given a chance to have smell good pizza. It was literally making me drool, oh, I was drooling, I whipped my mouth and dug right in when Hope left.

“Pretty good, right?”

I nodded quickly and kept on eating. “So good!” I sang out once I swallowed my third bite.

“Wow, how long has been since you last ate, geez!”

“I have no idea, but I am happy I have been given the chance to eat this.”

I kept on eating every little bit. Once I was done I was listening to him eat his meal. From the sounds, he was a messy eater. I almost expected him to start talking with his mouth full. No, he would not be that untamed. I waited for him to be done for ten minutes. Then it hit me- He was watching me eat. Why? Wouldn’t that be considered creepy? Maybe it was how he did things. I was in no mood to call him out on it. He devoured it quickly. Almost as if he waited too long or something.

“Did you enjoy your meal?” I asked, when I laid my chin on my knuckles while I leaned closer onto the table.

“Could have had more, but I did. How about you?” He placed his utensils on his plate and popped his fingers.

“You were right, it was fucking- Sorry, it was so good!” I admitted when I covered my mouth when I cursed. My voice was muffled which I anticipated.

“Kid, if there is anyone you should be comfortable with cussing along to, that’s me.” He leaned on the table. I could smell his breath again. It was... Comforting in a way. Despite the smell of cigarettes and meat.

“I get it that many people do it, but I just find it a waste of breath and when I am on my death bed, I want to waste the breath I didn’t when I was young. Ah, it’s pointless to even explain why I don’t do it.” I sighed out.

“You’re one strange guy.” Jason commented.

“I do not mind it that I am.” I shrugged a little and smiled shyly at him.

Hope walked up to us yet again. “Are you wanting the bill or you both in the mood for dessert?”

“Well?” Jason asked me.

“Yes!” I chirped. There was a bit of a silence when I made that sound.

“All right, give us a surprise.”

“Are you sure, Jay?”

“Alright, give him a sunday and give me a surprise.”

“Can do!”

I laid my cheek on the cool table, feeling slightly troubled for no reason. I started to pick at the scars on my fingers from the times I accidently slash them while I was chopping some vegetables up for main platters that was intended to be given to during dinner for my family and I. It’s happened many times before.

“Where are you from?” I asked him.

“I’m from this hell hole, but it’s home. Kinda hard to leave...” He trailed off for a few seconds. “Don’t like thinking ‘bout the past.”

“Oh. Well now. That’s fine.” I crossed my arms after I was picking at my fingers. “I’m not into thinking about the past myself.”

“I highly doubt you’ve been through that much.”

“You don’t know me, for all you know, I could have been a slave.” I stuck my nose up in the air a little, more to smell around. There wasn’t many people around but there was this thick... Straining sort of aroma that suddenly came in. “I wasn’t though and that wasn’t even funny to think of, I just kind of spoke without reflecting of my actions.”

“It gets the best of us, I suppose.” He told me with a shuffle of his clothing.

“Bet you’ve met the best of people. How old are you?” I asked with a smile along my face as I leaned further on the table. Something began to burn, which was a strange to feel when it wasn’t me that was burning up.

“25.” He claimed too quickly. I bet he was darting his eyes away so he wouldn’t have to keep looking right at me.

Odd that he was worried about telling me his age. I didn’t find it that big of a deal. I was happy that he was older than me. I don’t know why, I just have always felt more like myself around older people. Maybe it was because I felt like I didn’t have to live up to anything with them unlike kids my own age that I never got along with in the first place.

I never understood why talking with one’s peers makes them out to be better with life or jobs and such when reality most people are going to meet someone younger or older than them. I like kids, but adults make me feel safe. Just like little kids feel towards adults. Though I guess it is an odd comparison.

“Why be so worried that you’re eight years older than I? It’s not like you were trying to sleep with me, yes?” I laughed with my hand covering my mouth.

“Noooo, no, No. Morgan. You see... I’m not into that kind of shit. By that I mean, I am not into fucking minors because I think a stud or some shit like that- just no. I just wanna help you out.” He began to drink out of his glass of Ginger Ale, slurping it loudly.

“Where’s our next order?” He asked loudly.

“It’s coming right up, boys! Don’t worry about it too much.” Hope called out.

There is a moment of silence again. I tapped my fingers on the table. Jason kept on drinking his soda.

“What’s the rest of your family li-”

“Crossing the bonds, Jason.”

“Oh. Right. Sorry.”

“But I do have six siblings. I’m the youngest of them and a little bit of the rut of the litter as well.” I thought that I might as well tell him a little bit about my family life. It was only fair. “I had a mom but she died of an illness.”

Things began to settle down after awhile when I told him that, he seemed really upset about what I had told him. “Don’t worry about it... I barely even knew her.” I tried to reassure him. “Yeah, but everyone should have a mom..” He might have been raised by a single mother so I could understand that claim. I left it at that. I didn’t want to worry him any further. Soon we began to eat our desserts and we talked a little more then. About nothing for the most part, I asked him what Gotham is like and he responded with, ‘It has it’s charm but for the most part it’s a hell hole.’ I, of course, laughed at that. I highly doubted that a place could be that bad. I even said that out loud but he kept telling me that it was that awful. Awful. He called the place in other words, dreadful. I asked why he keeps staying here and he admitted that he still doesn’t know why. “I have traveled around the world though. I guess I can’t get away... I have this thing in my head that keeps telling me that I am needed. Even if I’m not. I keep telling myself that I mean something- if not to the world then maybe here. I don’t know though, I might be dulated.” He confessed to me. “No, no. I can understand what you mean. It’s hard to find a name anywhere, but but you think that if you can be somebody, it would have to be here, right?” “Guess so.” We talked even more. Where he has been, what his favourite place was. It was an interesting topic and I enjoyed talking about the different ideals of culture with him. He was pretty smart, but also a slippery person. He wasn’t the type to answer anyone for what they ask to him often. Unless one were to bend the question around, he would say that he didn’t like the topic choice and he would not talk about it any longer- More so, he wouldn’t talk to you if you asked something rude about him. He was shockingly a sensitive guy. It was pretty nice to know that he was because that was rather rare to find in a person. Though it was shockingly considering some of the things he was said to me. Sometimes he was coming across as a crazy guy, but I didn’t think he was. He was just different. We all are different and if we happened to all be alike, that would just be a boring parade. “So, do you wanna live with me for a bit?” He asked softly. I had to think about it. I really did. “Yes.” I answered. * “Hope you don’t mind the tiny space, since I’m living on my own, I just thought it would save money...” Jason begun while he unlocked his front door. Turns out that he lived in a studio apartment that was in the central area of the city. He kept telling me that it wasn’t the most prettiest looking place and it might smell but it was a nice fit for him and he felt at home every time he entered into the place. “...Guess that’s gotta change now!” He began to mutter things to himself about going back to see his father and that he wasn’t in the mood for that shit. “I’m sure it’ll be fine.” I reassured him. “I mean, where I lived, it was really large because my parents were raising a lot of kids at that point before me so when they all moved out and my mother was... No longer there this huge house was-” “You’ve never lived in a small place?” He asked, seeming to be impressed. “Uh... No.” I answered, a little surprised that this was shocking. “Huh. Well, you have a small place now.” He opened the door now. “I have a shit load of locks to be safe.” He explained, might have been because of the time it was taking to open it. “Understood... Seems like a place where one would need that sort of thing.” There was some shuffling, I guess it was from him walking in and taking his jacket off. “Are you coming in or are you going to take a second chance and run away from me?” I was take aback, yet again by this man. I nodded and entered into his small loft. Despite the fact that he kept calming it was small, the living area was pretty decently sized from the time I walked around it. To shoot from the hip, it was large. In fact, it was a little too spacious even without extra rooms within the building. “You know, it’s actually pretty b-” I felt a rush below the calf of my legs, as if something was moving and the sudden sound of woofing. I put my back against the wall, afraid that something was going to jump out at me and eat me alive! “Aye, it’s Taco!” Jason called out from the distance. “It’s what?” I croaked. “How’s my baby girl? How’s she? Didja miss your daddy? Aww, come ‘ere girl!” Jason sounded like he was smiling ear to ear while giggling to this ‘Taco’ creature. “Taco’s my pet pitbull. She’s the best one there is! Aren’t ‘ja girl?” “Ah... Okay.” Of course she was a dog. There would be no way in the world he was a cat person. “I got her from the shelter. She isn’t the prettiest, but she’s pretty good and well tamed and I just knew no one was going to want her because she’s a pitbull and...” He suddenly went quiet. “...She’s not all that pretty and you know how people are assholes!” He spoke up once more. “They care more ‘bout outer-beauty when it’s what’s in the heart that counts, right girl?” “Right...” I murmured while I took my backpack off, placed it on the floor as well as my violin case. “Lemme give you a tour of the house after I feed my dog, okay?” “Okay.” He got up and walked passed me and into what was the kitchen (I assume). I heard bits of hard dog food it a metallic bowel. Once he was done pouring it, he laid the bowel on the floor to have (holy shit that sounded like a big dog) eat it. He then turned on the water faucet and there was a sound of yet another came from the same type of bowel being put under it. Water bowel, got it. “This lady, I’m sure you’ll meet her one day, her name’s Selina, anyways, she kept daring me to work at the animal shelter for weeks on end and so I gave up the long, tragic, epic battle and went to work there as community service and I just kept coming back ‘cause I sort of liked it there!” I walked over to have a more clear sound of his voice. I leaned on the counter to his kitchen... Is it called an island? I have no idea. He placed the bowel on the floor and there came loud chugging. “It was about a month later of me working there as a volunteer when Taco came into my life. She was used as this fight dog and came in with her ear nearly bitten off and her leg broken beyond belief. Her right front leg. She needed to go to the vet. When she came back, getting all better- she came in almost dying- And I just thought those big brown eyes were meant for me.. I just fell in love at first sight!”

#Jason Todd #Jason Todd/Original Character #Jason Todd/OC #Old Unfinished Work #Out of Character Jason #Sorry...#Fan Fic #My Writing

1 note · View note

the-lupine-sojourner · 6 years

Text

Love in a Latte [Doctor!Human!Markus/Barista!singlemom!OC]

This was supposed to be for @writinginstability‘s 500 followers challenge, but I (to be honest) completely forgot to post it, then spaced it altogether til now! I am SSOO sorry! ;^;

Anyway, I hope you all enjoy!

God Bless and Good Day!

~The Lupine Sojourner

It was as if the sun only came up when he walked through the door that day. I swear, every single customer was incredibly rude and short with me, no matter how polite I was.

Then along came this amazing man. Perhaps it was simply that he was the first person to genuinely smile back at me.

Or perhaps it was the heterochromia, the left eye sapphire blue and the right eye reminding me of amethyst or jade.

Whatever it was about him, it was like a breath of fresh air and the entire room seemed lighter. “Hello.” I greet. “What can I get you?” I ask, like always. He stifles a yawn in his hand.

“Sorry, um...I would like a, ah, medium vanilla latte, if you don’t mind.” I nod, suddenly eager to make sure that lovely smile stayed on his face.

“Absolutely.” I reply. “Anything else?” He yawns again.

“Sorry, again. Uh, n-no.” I ring him up and tell him the total. He nods, trying to disguise another yawn as a sigh and hands me a $20. “Keep the change.” He adds with a wink, then goes to sit and wait for his caffeine.

Blushing profusely and hoping the manager didn’t suddenly decide to come out of the office, I slip the change into my pocket, grab the cup, and begin making the vanilla latte. On impulse, I added the classic leaf art, but small enough that I could also put in a smiley face. Blushing again (if I had ever stopped blushing), I set his cup on the counter with the lid beside it and waved him over. “You’re really quick.” He muses, then his eyes go wide as he takes in the latte art.

“I’m sorry!” I squeak, trying to keep it quiet, entirely mortified with myself. “I’m not good at it, but I try.”

“No, no!” He’s quick to assure me, but I don’t entirely believe it. He’s just too nice to admit it’s horrible. “It’s lovely. I just haven’t had latte art to start my day in a while. It’s great!” He says, blowing on the coffee and sipping at it. No one was in line, so I watch and wait for his reaction.

“I swear this is the best latte in Detroit.” He breathes, his eyes, those delightfully unique eyes, alight with joy. I exhale a breath I barely remember holding and grin.

“It’s just that we get good coffee beans and roast them slow.” I whisper, daring a wink. He laughs, and it’s like a cool summer breeze.

“Thank you. Now, I have to go to work for twelve hours.” He grumbles good-naturedly. I can’t help myself and open my mouth.

“Where do you work?” I ask. He smiles.

“The hospital. Detroit Receiving Hospital.” He replies. I smile.

“Oh, sorry. Um…” He scratches the back of his head.

“Right. I’ll be going now.” He mumbles, then turns awkwardly and leaves. Then turns at the door.

“Thanks again, ma’am.” He calls, waving and heading out. I then felt guilty about low-key flirting with him without even introducing myself. I suppose I figured he’d read my nametag.

But now he was gone and I’d likely not see him again. Ah, well. My stupid brain had gone and gotten attached to him and he was gone.

Regardless, I had to pull myself together; I was almost due to go home and be with Lachlan the rest of the day. North couldn’t handle him all day.

=#=#=#=#=

Turns out, he was something of a regular, but I didn’t work but a few days this week, since I’d worked nearly every day the past week. It was a trade-off that worked well.

Anyway, there I was, Thursday afternoon, almost five days since I’d seen Mystery Man last. And there he was, once more lighting up the room with his smile. “Hello again.” he greets. I smile.

“Hey there!” I return, immediately wanting to abandon ship and bury myself in embarrassment. I’d just made an utter fool of myself! “Medium vanilla latte?” I ask coyly, trying to recover myself, at least a little. The guy grins.

“Sure thing…” He sneaks a none-too-subtle peek at my name tag. “Alex.” He says, reaching into his wallet phone case and retrieving a debit card. “I didn’t have cash.” He confesses meekly. I roll my eyes.

“Either way works.” I point out, chuckling and swiping the card. He shrugs.

“I suppose, but I liked tipping you.” I blush.

“O-oh, I don’t think it’s ‘tipping’ if you ‘tip’ more than the drink is worth.” I counter automatically, then blanch in horror. “I mean- -”

“Relax, I getcha.” He says, then frowns. “Oh, geez!”

“What?”

“My name’s Markus. I’ve completely spaced it til now!” It’s finally his turn to look mortified and five shades, at least, redder than normal, though his dark skin made it hard to tell exactly. I flush. That was precisely the kind of name I’d expect. He seemed professional and upper class in a way, despite his energetic, goofy-at-times personality...like a Markus. I grin.

“Nice to meet you. Now, I’m gonna get your drink.” I reply, forcing myself to walk away. I could feel his eyes on me the entire time. I nearly dropped the cup so many times, it was sure to ruin whatever reputation I had with him and my coworkers. Markus is patient, but I hated making anyone wait. I have to take several breaths before attempting a tree as the latte art. It actually turned out okay. Markus’ entire face lightens, softening at the sight of my shitty tree latte art.

“I don’t know why, but I actually missed your latte art. The other baristas don’t bother.” I blush harder than I should and grin wider than appropriate, but I can’t bring myself to care.

“I’m so glad you like it!” I chirp, clapping, then instantly remember where I am and what I’m supposed to be doing; not making a fool of myself in front of a customer, regardless of any attachment I may foolishly have developed. I sober myself and begin wiping down the counter for what must be the hundredth time today. Markus smiles, then goes to set his bag down, drawing out a sketchbook. “Got the day off?” I ask. It was an incredibly slow day today, and I use my boredom as an excuse to continue talking.

“As a matter of fact, yeah. I usually work on-call. I live really close to both here and the hospital, so I can come and go whenever they need me. Also helps that I’m good friends with the Chief of Surgery.” He explains with a wink, sipping his coffee again. This man, Markus, must have some superpower or something; the power to make me blush practically on command. I tuck hair behind my ear in a nervous tick.

“Well, I’ll leave you to - -”

“Mama!” I flinch at the boy’s volume, but grin at him as he runs up to the counter, barely missing Markus. Right. Lachlan was being dropped off to wait for me. It was a half-day for me, so I was almost off.

“Lach, you know you can’t shout in here.” I scold. He nods meekly.

“Sorry, Mama, but Aunt North and I were just at the park and I found a really cool frog!” I grimace, sticking out my tongue.

“Don’t tell me you brought it here.” I grumble. Lachlan shakes his head, giggling.

“No! We have it in a box in Aunt North’s car!” I face-palm.

“That’s kinda the same thing.” I grumble. Markus laughs, and Lachlan seems to just now notice him.

“Oh!” He squeaks. “I’m sorry, sir! I didn’t see you!” I was godmother to an amazing child, I realize, for the millionth time since...since Daniel died, caught up in a hostage crisis that went south. He and his wife had been killed, along with nearly every other hostage. Markus, however, kneels down and smiles at Lachlan.

“It’s alright.” He assured Lach, who steps aside.

“Did you want Mama?” He asks. Markus clears his throat, standing and...is he blushing?

“Ah, I, uh,” He sighs. “No. I have my coffee.” Lachlan nods in reply, then grins.

“Wanna see my frog?” He asks giddily. Markus chuckles, and before either North or I could protest, Lachlan is tugging Markus along. Markus himself smiles back at us as he’s marched outside. I sigh heavily.

Thankfully, not many people were here to witness that.

“Who’s the cutie?” North asks teasingly. I blanch.

“J-just a customer.” I reply weakly, then clear my throat. “He’s something of a regular.” North nods.

“You ask him out yet?”

“North!” I snap, swatting at her arm, but miss as she’s across the counter. She cackles and moves out of range.

“It’s true!” She replies. “Everyone can see it!” One of the employees, Josh, had just come out of the back.

“Wait, what’s going on?” He asks.

“Nothing!” I exclaim, mortified. North’s grin spells my doom, however.

“Alex and the regular Lachlan’s looking at a frog with.” North counters before I can shut her up or cut her off. Josh looks out the window, grins, then turns to me.

“Honestly, subtlety is really not your strong suit at all, Alex.” I blush horrendously.

“Josh!” I whine, hiding my face in my hands.

“Go on. I’m your replacement.” I sigh in defeat, handing him my apron and cap.

“And here I thought we were friends.” I pout dramatically. Josh laughs.

“I am, and I want you to be happy.” He retorts, pushing me out from behind the counter. I head into the back, clocked out, and headed outside.

“Alright, kiddo. Let’s see this ‘really cool frog’.” I call. Markus grins as I walk over. Before I realize what’s happening, Lachlan positions me so I’m all but ground against Markus’ chest, pointing into a small cardboard box to reveal a neon green frog that croaked a few times before Lachlan tried to hand it to me. I shake my head. “Lachlan, honey, you know I don’t want to hold amphibians.” I remind him gently. Lachlan then offers it to Markus, who sighs and holds out his hands. North comes out, and ruffles Lachlan’s hair.

“Hey, kid. We’re gonna take the frog back now.” She says, and Lachlan nods, taking the frog back and plopping it back in the box. The pair are gone almost before I can say goodbye.

“So...he’s your son?” Markus asks, and I wonder why there’s sadness in his eyes.

“In a way.” I reply softly, sighing. “I’m his godmother.” I elaborate. Markus inhales, wincing. He’d caught my subtle explanation.

“I’m so sorry.” He murmurs. I sigh.

“He was almost two. His parents got caught up in a hostage situation that didn’t end well.”

“Oh, Alex.” Markus murmurs, and I find myself drawn to him once more, those teary eyes of his seeming to suck me in and hold me tight even as I let my arms wrap around him. “I wish there was something I could do.” He whispers, and I could tell he’d give me the sun, moon, earth, and stars, if he could. I draw back, smiling and wiping the tears away.

“Getting along with Lachlan is a start.” I reply, unsure why I was trusting this man, virtually a stranger still, with such personal information. I did know, however, that those beautiful eyes don’t deserve to hold tears. Suddenly, he’s leaning in, and I panic, leaning back.

“Unfortunately,” I squeak, panicking, “I’m really not good at kissing!” Dear God, what was that?! I scold myself internally. I have never wanted to be suddenly swallowed by the earth more than right now. “I mean, I’ve never done it, and I- -Mmhh!” He cuts me off by gently pressing his lips to mine. I fall deeper into the kiss than I mean to and it takes serious willpower to slowly draw away. By the time I’ve finally broken the kiss, however, I’ve forgotten why. “Wow…” Is all my intelligent mind can come up with. Markus bites his lip, bashful.

“I’m sorry.” He murmurs, head hanging in shame. “I shouldn’t have just kissed you like that. I’m sorry.” He stands and makes to leave, but I grab his wrist.

“Did I say I didn’t want it?” I ask rhetorically. “Did I resist?” Markus blushes another few shades darker.

“I still should’ve asked.”

“Well...I guess, but I’m saying you can kiss me now, if you want.” I reply, smirking. Markus slowly sits back down.

“Are you sure? I mean, we hardly know each other.” I grin.

“Watching you play with Lachlan gave me a pretty good idea. Most guys I meet tolerate Lach, but not many actually play with him, much less genuinely care about him.” Markus looks sunburnt with the intensity of his blush.

“How- -how can I not? He’s a sweet kid.” I grin proudly.

“Yeah, he is.”

#markus x oc #markus #dbh markus #detroit: become human #fanfiction #Markus x Original Female Character #this is supposed to be for a challenge but I completely missed the deadline

0 notes