#last year disappointed me severely i think he should always look like hes getting birthday sex in his art | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

6sakusa · 4 years

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hello i see requests are open 🥺 can you write an angst to fluff with suna 💞💞 maybe som ething related to birthdays/anniversary’s, or just feel free to take creative liberty. thank you i love your work 😖💞

“birthday” suna rintarō.

a/n : i hope you enjoy, if so please support by liking & reblogging <3

warnings : angst, implications of a toxic relationship, mild swearing, me not proof reading sorry.

you had been sitting against the hardwood chair for hours now, it felt pointless to even count, time was blurring slowly and you couldn’t help but fade away with it. you would have never imagined your day would go like this, from the moment you had woken up your boyfriend suna hadn’t been in bed next to you, granted that was something you were used to. however, you thought today would be different, considering it was your birthday.

since suna went pro he seemingly had less and less time for you but you could tell he was making as much as an effort as possible, that’s probably the reason that you failed to address it multiple times regardless of the way it had been eating away at you. how could you get in the way of your boyfriends dreams? he had finally accomplished everything he had wanted since high school, he was playing for a division one team, he had the apartment he’d been dreaming of, the car he had saved on his pinterest board since he was seventeen, and now even though he never cared for fame he was definitely famous.

and you were there for the entire ride, you were there when he first decided to try out for inarizaki’s volleyball team in first year, even though you weren’t dating then you still encouraged him to go for it. you were the one who showed up to his first practice to ease his nerves even though he tried to act brave. you were there when he went to nationals for the first time, the look in his eyes was indescribable, it was beautiful and it’s when you knew that you were slowly falling in love with suna. you were there when he lost his first official game comforting him as much as you could. you were there in second year when he lost against karasuno, you were there when he got his first girlfriend advising him what to get her even though you were completely whipped over him. yes, you were always by his side, thankfully the two of you made things official in third year.

but now looking back thinking on all of it you realised one thing you had never even considered is that this would happen, that once suna achieved everything you would no longer be his priority. you weren’t going to lie to yourself, it hurt, it seriously hurt. especially when you had been anticipating him to leave atleast a note wishing you a happy birthday saying he would be back in a couple hours to celebrate with you. but no, there wasn’t even that. no note, no text, no phone call, nothing.

and here you thought you would take the burden off his hands by planning something for the day, you had spent hours preparing a three course meal knowing that once suna was back from practice he would be on the verge of knocking out, the last thing you wanted was him dragging himself to some fancy resturant across town at your benefit. yet, it didn’t matter how much you considered his feelings since he wasn’t even here to show an ounce of gratitude.

it was taking everything in you to hold in your tears, had he really forgotten? even his own teammates had taken the time to text or call you to wish you a happy birthday, but right now it was anything but that.

what probably hurt the most was the crushing realisation of how unimportant you were becoming in his life, why were you even still in it? did he even want you around, even if he does then that didn’t mean you should necessarily stay, afterall it was becoming clearer and clearer that you deserved better even if you cursed the thought of saying it outloud. well, you atleast deserved someone who could remember your special day.

your head darted to the door as you heard the sound of keys and the lock clicking, it was almost as if suna’s very presence could pull you out of any trance.

“rin?” you smiled, why were you smiling? you shouldn’t be smiling. were you really so hopelessly infatuated with your boyfriend that you would let all your thoughts melt away at the sight of him alone? come on now, this is disappointing.

you deserve better.

you launched yourself into his arms in which he embraced you tightly, it wasn’t anything special, he did it everytime he had come home to you, but you couldn’t help but feel butterflies in your stomach as if you were still in your honeymoon phase when it came to rintarō.

“are you hungry? i made some food.” you pulled away taking a glance at his face, even when you were right in front of him it didn’t even seem like he was acknowledging your presence. his eyes were trailing between empty space, not even looking down at you. you couldn’t help but sigh to yourself, why had you gotten so excited?

“nah.” he shook his head attempting to make his way over to your shared bedroom. he looked tired and you weren’t surprised, afterall being a pro player was no easy task but you hoped at the very least that he would say something. secretly you were hoping that this was all some shitty prank that he decided to play on you and any second now he would jump out saying happy birthday and offering to spend some time with you.

“but rin i-“ you could barely finish your sentence before he decided to cut in with a tone so sharp that it was offensive.

“not now y/n, i’m not in the mood.” he sighed.

“i understand that but-“

“are you really going to keep talking? don’t start this clingy shit right now i said i’m not hungry.” and with that he didn’t even bother turning around, not even one glance at the food you had prepared before he disappeared down the hallway.

oh.

so he really had forgotten, even though the two of you would joke around a lot you knew he would never take things this far. not to the point where your eyes were glued to the floor and it felt like you couldn’t breathe because of the way your heart was literally breaking in your chest, not to the point where it felt like the person who you deemed the most important on the planet didnt give a shit about you.

suna clicked his tongue running his hands through his hair in exasperation as he thought about the way he just treated you. truly, he didn’t know what his problem was, there was just so much pressure on him lately and it seemed to be building up from every corner of his life, except from you, so why did he always take things out on you? the one he cared about most? the one he would do anything for? maybe it’s because he knew there would be no serious consequences, or so he thought. regardless, he would apologise to you soon when he calmed down, you didn’t deserve all the shit he was putting you through and he would make sure you knew exactly what you meant to him.

but what he didn’t know is how you were standing in the kitchen with a hole in your heart. there wasn’t much you could do now, he barely let you speak and you weren’t really up to reminding him of the fact it was your birthday, especially if he didn’t care to hear it.

you sighed making your way to the fridge pulling out a chocolate cake, you had gotten it because you knew it was suna’s favourite flavour and he was particularly picky when it came to cakes even though it was your birthday.

“i might as well still celebrate.” you mumbled to yourself, tears making their way down your face. maybe for another day you could pretend that everything was okay.

you picked up some candles from the drawer and stuck them into the cake softly, it was a miracle how you could still keep your composure regardless of what had just happened. sighing you lit them up, in a way it was such a tragic sight to see. in everyone else’s eyes you had everything you could have ever wanted in life, people looked up to you and yet here you were, feeling like the most lonely person on the planet.

“happy birthday to me.” you whispered with a sad smile and glossy eyes before blowing out the candles.

tragic indeed.

“y/n?” suna turned the corner raising an eyebrow at your state. he could tell you were crying and as much as it hurt him it also shocked him, he had said mean things to you before but you didn’t usually cry over them even though they clearly caused you pain. it took everything in him not to hit his head against the wall right now, you were in this state because of how he dismissed you.

you looked up at him, your eyes were void of the excitement they held when you had saw him earlier and he took note of it. “oh rintarō, do you want cake?” your tone was curious but your expression was deadpan, and to suna it was scary.

“i came to apologise.” he began making his way towards you glancing at the cake several times, why were you blowing out candles?

that’s when it hit him. what day is it today? he wasn’t sure he hasn’t been very perceptive of time lately but he did know it was your birthday month.

his heart dropped.

had he really neglected you this much lately that he had forgotten your own birthday? and he had the audacity to call himself your boyfriend.

“y/n, i’m so sorry i don’t know how i forgot-“

“save it rin, i see things clearly now, thank you.” you turned to make your way out of the kitchen but he was onto you before you were even able to.

“you see things clearly? what do you mean? y/n, i know i’ve been a shitty boyfriend lately and forgetting your birthday is unforgivable but please don’t say what i think you’re about to.” he clenched his jaw pulling your hand into his chest.

“what do you want me to do? ealier you didn’t even let me speak, is it something i did? do you hate me?” you asked with tears streaming down your face, you couldn’t pretend anymore.

“no, no, don’t ever think that, you’re perfect, you’re everything i could ever ask for, you’re not the problem you never have been.” he embraced you, wrapping his arms so tightly as if the moment he let go you would be gone.

“so why don’t you care about me anymore?” the broken tone in your voice was sending suna off the rails, he couldn’t believe he was the cause of this, he hated himself.

“that’s not true, i do care about you, i love you, you’re everything to me, you don’t even know how much you mean to me.” he pulled away to cup your face, this time you could see the sincerity in his eyes, the genuine interest, the adoration. “fuck, i’ve just been under pressure and i’ve taken it out on you, i can’t even tell you how sorry i am.”

“give me another chance to be better to you y/n, please don’t leave me i can’t live without you.” he fell to his knees, still holding your hand in his.

“rin-“

“please” he begged, a look of anguish prominant on his features as if he expected you to say no.

“get up rin.” you watched as he rose slowly, anxiety engulfing him as he couldn’t anticipate your answer. “i’ll give you another chance, always.”

“thank you.” he kissed your forehead before bringing you back into his arms.

“what are you doing?” you frowned watching as he brought out his phone and began texting.

“i just told my coach i’m taking a week off, i swear i’ll make this up to you, happy birthday y/n.”

you smiled at the thought of having your boyfriend to yourself for an entire week for the first time in ages, maybe your birthday wouldn’t be so bad afterall.

“tell me what you want princess, anything at all.. do you want to go out of the country? you wanted to see paris right?”

you chuckled at his words as he wiped your tears, looking at you with eyes full of love. “i don’t care what we do, as long as i’m with you.”

“well first how about i have cake with the love of my life?” he turned to the chocolate cake on the dining table before relighting the candles. “how about you do this properly this time hmm?”

“i would like that.” you smiled.

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screamingatanemptyroom · 3 years

Text

Song of a Mermaid Warrior pt 2

Part 2 to the mermaid story!

Decided to continue it, wanted to see where Jordan's story ends up.

You can read pt 1 here.

Enjoy!

___________________________

“Well, well, well! Never thought I’d see the mermaid herself swimming over to my fetid swamp here in the slums!”

A slim young man with bright purple hair grinned, flipping a silver coin into the air over and over without looking at it. “Thought you said you were never coming back? What, did your last book not sell as well now that you're peddling comforting little lies about your species?”

Jordan leaned against the doorframe of the dilapidated shop, wondering for the thousandth time if this was a bad idea. She knew the answer, deep down, but chose to ignore it. “Tock, cut the crap.”

“Oh sweetie, you haven’t changed. “ Tock laughed. “ I can cut the crap, but not sure what use it would be… crap is notoriously difficult to cut, tends to mush up, you know… and whose crap should be cut? Mine?” He shrugged. “ Sorry to say this body doesn’t make physical waste. What about yours?”

Jordan rubbed her forehead. “I should have known better than to do anything other than speak as literally as possible… I hate fairies.”

“You only know one fairy, darling.” Tock’s eyes blinked, the irises turning green, than orange, than staying at a robin’s egg blue. “Unfair of you to judge the whole species just because you don’t like me. Especially because I have been nothing but fair and helpful to you.”

“You tried to trick me into giving you my skin.”

“TRIED. Tried is the key word there. Plus you didn’t fall for it, so what’s the problem?”

Jordan sighed, knowing that there was never any point with arguing with Tock.

She had run into the fairy over two years ago. At that time she was frantic, trying to find Hunter’s location, and her desperation had led her to the darker corners of the city. She had spent every last coin she had, unable to eat or sleep, and at her darkest moment, she stumbled into Tock’s shop. Later Jordan had realized that it was likely that despair that had allowed her to find his place. There were magic wards to keep all but the most vulnerable out.

When they met, Tock had seen her madness, her obsession, and was ecstatic. He tried to get her to agree to many terrible deals in exchange for tracking down Hunter and after adding a small addendum she had agreed, feeling that whatever price she had to pay was worth it.

In the end, the addendum she had insisted on saved her skin, quite literally. She had added on a time limit that he had to track Hunter down and arrange a meeting. And to Tock’s shock and dismay, whatever elven magic was hiding Hunter’s identity; it was beyond the fairy’s ability to dismantle.

Tock had failed to find Hunter, and the contract expired. Jordan left, at the time feeling a strange mix of disappointment at the failure and gratitude to be still in one piece. As they parted ways, she swore never to come back to his broken place of deals with the devil.

Until today.

“So what brings you here, my lovely little fish?” Tock flipped his coin again, and it sizzled as it disappeared into thin air. “Still trying to find that stubborn elf boyfriend of yours?”

“He was just a friend, and no. I gave up on him years ago.”

Tock frowned, blinking as his eyes turned a bronze color. “Pity. Your skin has only gotten prettier since the last time I saw it… would love to find your price to part with it.”

“…” The memory of Hunter cheerfully making plans to run away with her still hung in her mind. What was it that he had said? “We might lose our clothes and money, but at least we’d have a fun story to tell”? We had no idea what real fairies were like. The ocean’s song in Jordan’s ears was rising, she kept her lips closed to hold back the seductive call of the magic. The fairy noticed her struggle, backing away slightly.

“Fine, fine, no more talk about your skin. Why are you mermaids so sensitive about losing organs?” He paused for a moment, thinking. “Mermaids regenerate, right? Or was that trolls?”

“Tock….” The name was forced out between clenched teeth.

The fairy rolled his eyes, changing them to a pure silver color. “So what deal DO you want to make today, my angry mermaid friend?”

She dug through her pocket handing over a silver badge with a handkerchief. Her touch shouldn’t affect his abilities, but Jordan still didn’t want to touch it. It represented something she had tried to move beyond in the last few years, a part of the past that caused her to wake up sobbing some nights, and to stay up drinking others.

Hunter had been her only friend, the only person in this world she thought she could trust. She had learned the hard way how foolish that trust had been. But once she had finally made peace with that fact, he had sent someone to intrude in her life once more. After forcing her to stay out of his battle, he was inviting her to join him, dangling the one thing he knew she couldn’t resist to get her to agree: the existence of other full blood mermaids.

She wasn’t going to play by his rules. If he was expecting her to run back to his side after forcing her away years ago, he would be sorely disappointed. And if she was going to use the clue he had given her, it was for her reasons and no one else’s. Because for everything he had gotten wrong, Hunter had gotten one thing very right:

She did want to find the mermaids in the city.

Not out of any sense of loyalty or need to find others like her, however. She was simply desperate. The instincts to fight and kill, to use her magic to trap and destroy, grew stronger by the day. Soon she was afraid she’d start killing innocent people. She needed to find a way to control it.

Jordan was hoping that other mermaids would know how.

Maybe other mermaids don’t have this problem. She thought at her darkest moments. Maybe I’m just a killer, a monster.

She tried not to think about that to often.

Tock gingerly picked up the badge, his eyes widening with surprise and turning a glowing violet.

“You always have the best things! Let’s see… silver… It was made several years ago… it had other forms years ago… but the owners of those items died quite violently…” He paused, glancing at her curiously. “Your handiwork, I would guess?”

“No comment.”

“Such an unfriendly fish… good thing you have such pretty skin, otherwise I wouldn’t pay you any attention.” He turned back towards the badge in his hand. “It was made with care and love… quite a pure emotion of care… along with a large amount of hope, all mixed in with the silver as it was reformed… it was part of a set?”

“Yes.” She swallowed uncomfortably, pushing back the memories of a young naïve girl, who thought herself hardened and bitter, carefully making a birthday present for her best friend.

“Can I see the other one?”

She thought of the location of the badge she had once treasured. “No.”

Tock pouted. “Fine. It contains quite a few auras, but the strongest one… is quite familiar.” His eyes turned a bright angry red. “Elf!”

“Yeah, it was Hunter’s.”

“That BASTARD! His blasted elf magic forced me to lose my contract with you!” He tossed the badge to the counter with a disgusted grimace. “You’ll never be that perfect combination of desperate and vulnerable again!” He looked back at me. “You are STILL trying to find that elf who dumped you three years ago? And I thought you had standards.”

The ocean song roared in her ears as it sensed her anger, pushing at her control, leaking from her lips. She could feel it swelling beneath her skin, threatening to force itself out. Tock rolled his eyes at the sight.

“Don’t try your battle magic here. You may be quite terrifying to meet in a dark alleyway, but I have some great wards in place.” He sneered as she kept her lips closed tightly. “Just a word of advice: Don’t face off a fairy in his own home.”

Jordan forced her magic down with great struggle, every instinct wanting to lash out. “I don’t want you to find Hunter. I want to know most frequent locations this amulet has been over the past six months.”

“And that’s not the same thing because…”

“Because it’s not him I’m wanting to find.” If he's found mermaids, then the locations he's been, the people he's spoken to... they'll be clues to track them down.

Tock raised an eyebrow. “Then what ARE you trying to find?”

“None of your business. I just need the locations this object has been most frequently.”

“Very well.” His smile became sly, his eyes shifting away from the angry red to a dark blue. “What deal shall we make for me to do this? How about your skin…”

The last word trailed off as Jordan held up a golden coin.

“…”

_________________________________

The silence in the room stretched on, as Tock’s gaze was locked on the object in her hand. His eye color was shifting rapidly, brown, grey, orange, green, before the whole eye filled with color finally turning a solid, glowing silver. His shoulders twitched, and his teeth grew longer in his mouth, the sharp points pressing into his still human appearing lips.

“Where did you get that?” His whisper had lost all of his previous joking tone. There was a small amount of magic woven into his words, a minor compelling spell to force her to speak, and speak truthfully. It buried itself in her ear, making her thoughts foggy. Jordan smiled, shaking her head as the ocean song within her rose in volume, drowning out the fairy magic easily, keeping her mind clear.

“I’ve picked up a lot of things these past few years.”

“ANSWER. THE. QUESTION.”

“No.” Jordan flipped the coin, mimicking the fairy’s earlier actions. “Don’t try your magic on me, fairy. I’ve had too many years of practice ignoring magical compulsions.”

“Fine.” He sighed loudly. “Do you know what it is you have there? Do you know if there’s any more?”

“I’ve heard stories… tales only whispered in dark alleys and in crumbling basements. Do you know in schools here they teach that the humans are the only ones affected by the Darkness? That losing the ability to have children was the be all and end all of the curse?”

“…” Tock kept silent, staring at her. Shrugging, she continued with a mocking smile.

“What a limited view, right? Turns out that everyone lost something to the Darkness. Every single one. It took whatever that species valued most. For humans, such a short-lived, social people, it was taking away the ability to make new generations. But fairies… you are born of magic and air, part of nature and outside of time. Procreation means nothing to you.” She flipped the coin up, letting it spin in the air before catching it and holding it firmly in her hand. “The Darkness took something much more important to you fairies.”

Tock was trembling at her words, unclear if it was with fear or anger. “What do you think the Darkness took from us?”

Jordan glanced at his empty back. “Your wings.”

“…” The fairy’s hands were gripping the counter in front of him. His fingers sank into the wood as easily as if it was made of clay.

“If it were just something to help you fly, I bet you would have simply made do without them. But they represent something much more important, don’t they?” She leaned closer, ignoring his threatening aura. “That’s where fairies store their magic. So now you have the live with the scraps of magic you absorb from the earth and enchanted items, unable to store it within yourself. That’s why you work here, in this pitiful little shop, unable to do more than hide behind these wards and peddle minor magic tricks for favors.”

“Be careful, mermaid…”

“Oh I’m careful enough, Tock.” She opened her hand and stared at the coin in her palm. “No wonder you wanted my skin… how much magic should be stored within it, I wonder. Enough to last you a few years I would think. Which is why this little coin is so important to you.”

“…”

“Fairy gold.” She held it up again. “Quite pretty, actually, looks like the real thing even on close inspection. But if I were to try to spend it… it would expel all the magic stored inside, turning to wood and taking away my lifetime’s luck. An inconvenience for me… but for you?” She grinned. “It stores enough magic for you to live comfortably for quite some time. You could leave this shop, set up protective wards wherever you ended up. Magic enough to stabilize your appearance so your eyes and ears don’t change; let you blend in if you wanted to leave your house for a change. “

“…”

“So what do you say, Tock.” Jordan flipped the coin one last time. “Do we have a deal?”

After a long pause, the fairy spoke up. “… I …”

“TOCK ARE YOU HERE?!!”

The shop door slammed open and a short redheaded young man burst in. As he rushed to the counter, Jordan got a closer look. He was a few inches shorter than her, his leaner frame still obviously muscular. His facial features were handsome, with bright green eyes that glowed with excitement and fiery red hair that was cropped short. He wore regular clothing, a grey t shirt and jeans, and would have seemed very average except for the massive axe strapped to his back.

Who the heck is this?

“Glit, this isn’t the time.” Tock warned, his tone still angry and tense.

“No, Tock, I’ve been thinking about it… maybe I SHOULD be willing to compromise… exactly how much skin would you need to help me find the dwarves?”

The fairy’s eyes glowed an excited gold, his teeth retracting once more as he stabilized his appearance. “Well now…”

“Add his bill to mine.” Jordan interrupted, glaring at Tock. “No skin.”

“But… that’s unfair! We already had a deal!”

“You didn’t accept it in time, so now the deal has changed. “ She shrugged “The price I’m offering is more than enough to cover us both. I would suggest you take the deal before it changes again.”

Tock glared. “FINE! FINE, I ACCEPT!”

The young man turned to her, shocked. She met his gaze, holding back the urge to sigh. Jordan wasn’t much one for random acts of kindness to strangers, but he reminded her of herself a few years ago. Lost, desperate… the only kind of people who can slip past Tock’s wards. She just wasn’t sure what his reaction would be to her interference… annoyance? Gratitude?’

He grinned at her. “You look really strong! Wanna fight?!”

… Well that certainly hadn’t been the reaction she was expecting.

“Maybe later…”

His shoulders slumped. “Dangit. I was losing hope of meeting a strong person in this awful city… no offense if you like it here.”

“None taken, I don’t.”

“I finally meet someone worthy of a good fight, and I make a terrible first impression.” He sighed. “My Ma always did say I needed to work on my introductions.”

“…And you are?”

His eyes widened. “I haven’t told you that yet?” His hand slapped his forehead. “Sorry, must have been distracted by the whole ‘trading my skin’ thing. I’m Glitenaere ni Tolk Vhelarite, firstborn of Marleiun ge Nerturin, the greatest Dwarven warrior alive… but you can call me Glit!”

She looked over the short young man. “You are the greatest warrior?”

“Nope. My Ma.”

“You’re a dwarf?”

“Since I was born.”

Jordan felt curious, having only ever read about dwarves from human textbooks, which said they were a reclusive, unfriendly race.

The reportedly unfriendly, reclusive dwarf was reaching out to shake her hand. “Thanks for the saving my skin, friend!”

She didn’t take his hand. “Shouldn’t you have a beard?”

Tock burst out into laughter, his eyes turning a humorous magenta. “Wow, way to go straight for the gut.”

“Aww, shut up fairy, she didn’t mean anything by it. Can’t blame her for not knowing in a city like this.” Glit leaned against the counter, rubbing his chin with an idle hand. “I’m a darkling, a child born infected by the Darkness.”

“Every race lost something.” Jordan whispered.

“Not everyone was infected, but those who were never grew beards.” He looked sad for a brief moment. “It’s a symbol of strength, of connection to the Earth… everything in our culture revolves around it.”

“What about the women?”

“Oh they grow them too. You should see my Ma. Her beard makes all the boys cry with jealousy.” Glit laughed. “They all thought with her being the strongest and all, her child would be too… but…”

“…Sorry.”

“Oh don’t worry, friend. I’m not weak. I may not have a connection with the earth and a powerful beard, but I’m a force to be reckoned with when I have an axe in my hand!”

Tock looked up, his eyes turning bright white. “You may have to test that out sooner rather than later. We have company.”

BANG! Something slammed into the closed door behind them.

_________________________________

Jordan took a defensive stance, while Glit drew his axe. “Who’s coming?”

“Probably one of those damn purity obsessed groups. They constantly sweep the slums, looking for low bloods and part elves. Usually the wards keep them away, but today, I got a little… distracted. “

“Great. Not really in the mood to deal with these guys, Tock.”

“They bad guys?” Glit spoke up.

“Yep.” Jordan answered softly. “They do horrible things to those who can’t defend themselves.”

“Fair enough. Today they picked on the wrong type of people, though.” Glit grinned. “Let’s kill them!”

His easy acceptance of the violence they would face ahead gave her a little pause. Before she could examine it too closely, the door crashed open, and a large group of men wearing black cloths around the lower halves of their faces rushed in. In their hands were standard pistols, the dull metal glinting off the many lamps of Tock’s shop.

“Looks like we got a haul, boys!” One of them spotted Glit and Jordan, his eyes widening with shock. “That short one definitely can’t be high purity… he’s either a low blood or a dirty elf mix blood! And the other…” He glanced and Jordan and laughed. “A No Blood? Thought they were all gone!”

Glit twirled the massive axe in his hand with ease, looking confused. “Do I look like an elf?”

Jordan thought of the tall quiet young man who had always followed behind her, always trying to avoid violence. “Not even a little.”

“Ah.” He tossed the axe lightly, catching it with the other hand. “Hey fellas, despite your insults and poor eyesight, I’m gonna be nice. Here’s your one chance to run away, before my strong friend and I start slicing you to pieces.”

Even with the majority of his face covered, the disdain on the attacker’s face was evident. “Shut up, dirty elf! Even with your axe, you really think you can face a group with guns?" He snorted, "Now we’re gonna have fun killing you.”

Glit just laughed at the threat. “I was hoping you guys would say that!”

As the group of attackers spread out around the room, he turned to face one side, leaving his back open to Jordan.

Jordan hesitated briefly at Glit’s open back, startled at the gesture of trust, before slowly turning to cover him. She glanced around to see that Tock had disappeared before closing her eyes, calling up the song within her and setting it free.

From her mouth a song of battle rang out. Several of the attackers stopped in their tracks, caught in her illusion, but the rest were only mildly affected, just barely losing their grips on their weapons.

Jordan cursed silently, still singing. Her magic was very effective against small groups of enemies, but the more people it was spread out against, the less useful it would be.

As the song of death spilled constantly from her lips, she felt her nails grow out into claws and moved forward, striking the attackers that were not incapacitated first. From the side she heard Glit run forward, spinning his axe, blood and tissue flying through the air as he cut through enemies.

Blood dripped from her fingers. She heard someone behind her, preparing to strike and turned, grabbing his neck. She felt the water within his heart, and used her magic to stop it in place. His face turned pale, and clutching his chest, he fell to the ground.

Jordan was feeling the drain of her magic. Her vision was turning a bright blue, the song growing in her mind, calling for her to give in completely.

BANG! A shot rang out past her ear, and sensing the danger, the song surged louder in her soul.

Can’t give up all control to my instincts. She thought grimly, slicing the shooter’s face. I might just lose myself completely.

It was hard, fighting against physical enemies while resisting the magical bind of her own blood, but Jordan forced herself forward, grateful for the help of the dwarf beside her. If she had faced all these enemies by herself, she might have lost to the bloodlust within her.

The air was filled with blood and screams.

And then… there was silence.

__________________________________

Jordan’s vision cleared as she forced the song of the ocean down, keeping it tightly controlled within herself. Her nails retracted and she stood in place, staring down at the blood on her hands.

Hunter always said he didn’t want me to be a killer. She closed her eyes briefly with pain. She felt dirty, worthless. Maybe if I wasn’t one he wouldn’t have left me behind.

Lost in her thoughts, she only came out of it as she felt a warm touch on her hands. Shocked, her eyes flew open, only to see Glit pushing a large wet cloth into her grasp.

“Here, friend, you can clean your hands with this.”

She paused, unused to the kindness, but took it anyways. “Thanks.”

“No problem! You’re amazing! That battle song… had magic in it right? Are you not human?”

“Mermaid.” The word came out before she could stop it, and Jordan pressed her lips together, annoyed. He’s a stranger. No need to tell him anything more. She tucked the dirty rag in her pocket, not wanting to give Tock a free sample of her blood.

“Really? I thought they had all disappeared!” Glit’s face lit up. “My Ma always said that the mermaids were the only warriors she wouldn’t want to face up against! That’s awesome!”

She glanced at the dismembered bodies on his side of the room. “You’re not such a bad fighter yourself.”

His smile brightened. “Really? Thanks! Those guys back home thought I was pretty useless, being a Darkling and all, but if a mermaid warrior says so, I’ll trust your opinion!”

“This is all very touching… but what am I supposed to do about the mess you made?” Tock’s annoyed tone caught their attention.

“We fought off your attackers while you hid in the back, fairy.” Jordan raised an eyebrow. “You can worry about the mess. You’re lucky we don’t charge you for the service.”

“Yeah, what she said!” Glit crossed his arms, standing at her shoulder, and smiled at Tock, the still bloody axe in his hand making the gesture threatening.

Tock rolled his now yellow eyes. “Fine. While you two were gleefully tearing those idiots to pieces, I finished the tasks you gave me.” He spread a map on the counter, ignoring as the far corner was stained with blood. Jordan recognized it as a map of the city. With a golden pen the fairy circled a few buildings. “Here’s where the amulet has spent the most time in the last six months, in order of most time spent.”

She glanced over at Glit beside her. “And the dwarves?”

“Tougher, since he doesn’t have a possession from the dwarves in question, but…” He picked up a silver marker, and circled one place. “There is a high concentration of earth magic here.”

Glit and Jordan stared at the spot, where silver and gold overlapped.

“Looks like me might be looking for the same place.” She whispered.

“Really? That’s great, friend!” He paused. “By the way, what’s your name?”

“Jordan. But I don’t think we’re friends. I don’t trust anyone.” Not anymore.

“Jordan!” He grinned. “Don’t worry, we can still be friends. You don’t have to trust me. I’ll trust you enough for the both of us.”

Tock groaned. “You’re so naïve… why couldn’t you have shown up when the mermaid wasn’t around?! I could have extorted you for so much skin!”

Jordan grabbed the map silently, unsure of how to respond to the dwarf’s enthusiasm.

“If you’re going there, can we go together? I’m looking for a large group of dwarves that disappeared, we think they might be being held captive in the city.”

“…You really shouldn’t trust people so easily.” Her words came out as a pained whisper.

Glit’s face became solemn for the first time since they met. “It’s okay. I’ve grown up in a world that hates me. It’s not been easy, but over the years, I’ve developed a good sense of those around me, and what kind of people they are.”

“And kind of person do you think I am?” She was genuinely curious what the cheerful dwarf thought of her.

“You? Well, you’re someone who cares too much and wishes you wouldn’t. My guess is that you’ve been hurt very badly by someone you trusted… and now you would never wish that same pain on another person.” He shrugged. “So that’s why I trust you. You might kill me if you have to, but you’ll do it facing me. You won’t stab me in the back. You couldn’t bear to do that to someone after what you’ve been through.”

“Interesting opinion.” Jordan felt a strange mixture of despair and relief at his words. “Not put off by me killing men while they’re stunned by magic? That wasn’t just a fight…I’m a killer.”

“Hmm… well, I just chopped up six guys with an axe, and the only reason they didn’t shoot a bunch of holes in me is because of your magic, so I’m pretty sure I can’t judge.” Glit patted her on the back. “Are you looking for mermaids, like I’m looking for dwarves?”

She nodded silently, although silently she thought their reasons for looking were quite different.

“Then let’s go find our people together! You don’t have to trust your back to me, but don’t worry! I’ll defend it anyways.”

“Can you two leave?" Tock rubbed his face tiredly, his eyes flickering between purple and pink. "This touchy feely stuff is bad for my business. What if some desperate fool walks in and is inspired by all your motivational speaking?”

Jordan tossed him the fairy gold, taking back the silver badge she had given him, and turned and left the shop. “Never coming back, Tock.”

“Keep telling yourself that, my fishy friend!” He called back. “You’ll come back. They always do.”

“Okay then! See you later, Tock!” Glit called out as he walked behind her.

“…Actually, I would prefer it if YOU don’t come back. You give me a headache.”

Jordan and Glit left the carnage filled shop behind them

_________________________________

“So mermaids and dwarves being held in the center of the city.” Glit thought out loud. “Some sort of human conspiracy?”

Jordan thought of growing up in the orphanage, the city’s emphasis on having higher purity of mermaid blood rather than human, the complete lack of information on other races. She thought of Hunter and the underground Resistance. Of the Darkness that spread everywhere, touching every species.

Everyone lost something to the darkness, right?

So what did mermaids lose?

... What did I lose?

“There’s something broken about this world, more going on here then we realize.” Jordan answered softly. “But we’re going to figure it out.”

“Together?”

“For now.”

“Awesome!” He pumped a fist in the air. “Wait until I tell my Ma I went on a quest with a mermaid warrior. She’s gonna be so impressed!” He paused. “You two would get along, I think. Strong warrior types and all.”

Jordan sighed, rubbing her forehead.

“Why does everyone keep sighing around me?”

“… Let’s go. “

_________________________________

They moved quietly towards the place marked on the map. Glit, surprisingly, activated a hidden mechanism on his axe, folding it into thirds and hiding it in a backpack, and pinned on a “34” badge. He saw her glance at the silver ornament and shrugged. “Snatched this off some guy who tried to mug me when I arrived in town. Most people think I’m just a low purity level student when I’m dressed like this .”

“How old are you?”

“Twenty-three.”

“…” Older than me? Jordan adjusted her mental view of him silently.

“Don’t worry if you thought I was younger.” He raised his hands helplessly. “No beard and the dwarven height tends to confuse people.”

“Sorry.”

“No worries, as long as you don’t think I’m weak and helpless just because I’m shorter than you.”

She thought of him cutting through enemies with his axe. “No chance of that.”

They made they way to the abandoned factory that Tock had marked for them. As they neared the area, Glit pulled out a machine from his bag waving it through the air.

“What’s that?”

“Dwarven machine, it detects the presence of magic.” He frowned. “We need to be careful. This whole place is covered with spells.”

“If this was a human holding place…”

“It shouldn’t have magic.” He finished her thought. “Maybe go up to the roof and enter from there instead?”

They scaled the wall silently, cutting a small hole in the roof with yet another tool from Glit’s bag. As she peered into the building, she felt the ocean’s song start welling up within her.

“There’s danger here. We should go back and regroup.”

“Jordan, look out!” Glit pushed her to the side, wincing as the blow from behind her struck his head instead.

Jordan opened her mouth to release her magic, but before a sound could escape, a hand grasped her arm and magic flooded her body.

“Sleep.” The voice was familiar, but her mind was already falling into darkness.

Jordan woke up on a couch in a dark room. Groaning, she rubbed her head, feeling angry. She knew this feeling, this hung over dizzy sensation. Remembered it too clearly even though she wished she could forget.

“Elven magic.”

Glit groaned from his sprawled position in the corner of the room, his arms and legs tied tightly. The ropes dug into his skin, but he ignored it as he flipped his body into a sitting position on the floor, looking up at her with a sad expression. “Sorry I missed them behind us.”

“It’s fine, thanks for taking that hit for me.” She glanced at the wound on his head, crusted with dried blood, and winced. “You okay?”

“Yeah, just a friendly tap. I’ve got a hard head.” He grinned, then looked around. “Real question is, who has us, and why?”

“I have an idea... but I really hope I’m not right.”

“You always did have good instincts, Jordan.”

The familiar voice spoke up from the doorway, Jordan forced herself to sit up on the couch, staring at their captor with a pained expression.

She knew him.

Of course she knew him.

He had set his trap, sent her his badge, knowing she would use it… and she had fallen for it.

The man who haunted her nightmares smiled sadly at her. “Not happy to see me?”

She blinked, shaking her head slowly. “Hello again, Hunter.”

#writing #fantasy #violence #elves #mermaids #dwarves #fairies #apocalypse #action #part 2 is here!#Will answer asks with next pfts part

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shanastoryteller · 4 years

Text

Underworld Dreams

i feel the need to clarify that this isn’t fiction writing, that these are about real dreams and real events that happened to me, and i was just thinking of them and thought - i should write these down

i don’t remember my dreams, generally, and i don’t tend to put much stock in the meanings of dreams, generally

but sometimes i have dreams that are stickysharp, that are very vivid, and that feel very real to me for the first few seconds after i wake up, and then i’m always filled with an embarrassing amount of relief that no matter what’s going on in my life currently, those problems aren’t my problems

my friends call them my underworld dreams

the first one i had was one i was very young, less than six years old, and i don’t remember much from my actual life from that age with clarity that i remember this dream. i was alone on the street, searching for someone, but everything was empty. i wasn’t scared. then i come across two dogs, fancy poodles, but they’re not right. they see me and immediately begin arguing. “what’s she doing here? she’s not supposed to be here.” “get rid of her” “she’s here now, she might as well stay” “she’s not supposed to be here!” and i try and interrupt, but then they’re looking at me, looming, so much bigger than me when they hadn’t been before, until they’re all teeth, and i’m running. all i hear is barking, and i’m not nor have i ever been afraid of dogs, but i run and my chest hurts but no matter where i look i’m alone. the dogs aren’t there, aren’t chasing me, but i don’t know where to go. i look around and i realize that everything’s in black and white. that the only things that hadn’t been a shade of grey had been the those two dogs. life isn’t shades of grey, i remember suddenly, and i bend over to pick up one of the grey bricks lining the sidewalk. i hold it in both hands and break it in half and liquid cement pools from the broken brick onto the ground. “oh,” i say, with relief, “it’s not real. this is a dream. i can leave now.”

then i wake up.

my mother dies a week before my tenth birthday and i have a dream that i do not forget. i am in the front yard, looking down at the highway from the large sloping hill of our home, leaning against a birch tree.

there’s a car slowly rolling down our long driveway. once, when i was younger, i was left to play in the front seat of the car as it was parked on top of the long driveway. it was an old car. i moved something i shouldn’t have and the car started rolling and i screamed and screamed, knowing something bad had happened but not how to stop it, and then my mother’s boyfriend, who i hated, ran and jumped into the rolling car and slammed on the breaks.

i am not in this car. it is getting faster, no one to slam on the breaks, and then my mother is standing next to me. “i’m in there,” she says. “you could save me.”

i understand that this isn’t real. that my mother is dead and so she can’t be standing next to me. everything else seems so real and normal, but my mother is here like she hasn’t been for weeks, and that means this is a dream. i look at the car rolling down the hill and remember her casket getting lowered into the ground and i say, “no. you’re already dead. you have to stay dead, that’s how this works.”

she’s disappointed, but not angry, she stands next to me, silent, as we watch the car roll into the highway, watch it crumple, watch it roll into a ditch. when i turn to look at her, she’s gone.

then i wake up.

i’m not relieved. i feel guilty for not saving her, even in a dream, even when she was already dead.

i do not dream of my mother again.

my grandmother raised me after my mother died. my grandmother dies when i’m twelve and i do not dream of her when it happens.

i will, years later, but not then.

i’m in high school and i have another dream. i am in something between victorian england and modern day. everything is gray. i live in a small apartment.

children keep appearing at my door. i let them in, i feed them, i cloth them. i go to food banks and schools, searching for who these children belong to, but no one claims them, so i keep them. it’s so hard to keep them, but i can’t leave them.

some of the children get sick. i do my best, but some of them die.

i put the bodies in the closet and lock the door. i tell the other, living children not to go near the closet.

i go searching. dead children don’t belong in closets. i go to the hospital, but they say they will not take random dead children. i go to the police and they laugh at me, saying no one will take them, that i’ll have to get rid of them on my own.

i am angry and desperate but there is a part of me that is not surprised.

i go home. i will have to keep the dead children in the closet. the living children ask questions, reach for the closet, and i stand in front of it, standing between my dead children in the closet and the living children in front of me, knowing that they can’t open it, that i have to keep it closed, because if i open it then my living children will walk into the closet with my dead children and they will not come out.

then i wake up.

i do not have any dead children in my closet. the relief is sharp, but not sweet.

i have a loft bed in college because the tiny room i’m sharing in this small apartment is not big enough for us to fit two bed side by side.

i dream that i wake up in this bed, in a place that’s not my own. there are children there, that i know but do not recognize. they cry out when they see me and yell for me to climb down. i do and they grasp my hands, pulling me outside.

my grandmother is there. other people that i do not recognize but that i know are there. the children are my cousins. these people are my family. we are outside and it is beautiful and bright. the grass is green and soft.

i sit and talk with my grandmother as the children play. the children run off somewhere else.

“i’m so glad you’re staying,” someone who i thinks might be an aunt says, patting my hand.

the first curl of unease is easy to mistake for confusion. “no, i can’t stay, i’m just visiting.”

“visiting?” she says, pitying. “there’s no visiting. the dead have to stay dead. you know that.”

i am cold. the grass is still soft. it’s still beautiful. i do not want to stay.

my grandmother is sad, not pitying, when she says, “it’s too late. they’re burning the bed.”

i am running. i do not stop to say goodbye.

the house is burning. the children are tugging at the long legs of my loft bed, trying to to pull it to the ground, and all around me are flames. i run through them, ignoring the cries of my cousins as i climb into the loft bed, laying down and burying my face into my pillow that smells of smoke and heat just as the legs crash and i’m tumbling to the ground.

then i wake up.

my pillow does not smell of smoke.

it’s finals week and i dream that i’m in a cave. there are bars on the entrance, even though it just leads to even more cave, and guards and a warm yellow light coming from somewhere.

i am with people i do not know. they are not concerned about leaving. i am. i get the gate open, the guards aren’t around. “come on,” i say to everyone. “let’s go. we have to go.”

“it’s just a waste of time,” one of them tells me. “we can’t leave. where would we go?”

i don’t understand.

someone else puts a water bottle and a several packets of saltine crackers into my hands. “you’ll need this,” he says, not unkindly. “don’t lose them. it’s important.”

i can’t force anyone to come with me. the guards will be back soon. they should be here now. leaving seems too easy, suddenly, but it’s not like i’m going to stay, so i go.

the caves are confusing. it takes a long time to find my way out, and i drink most of the water and eat the saltine crackers. when i step out of the labyrinth of caves it’s too bright, brighter than it’s ever been.

i walk for a long time. i come across a field that is a mix of golden corn and golden wheat growing side by side in a confusing, impractical mixture.

i see a man, dark skin and greying beard, in grey overalls and a grimy henley that maybe didn’t used to be grey but is now. he has a scythe in his hands, leaning back and swinging it through the mix of corn and wheat.

the wheat falls to the side and the scythe passes through the corn, leaving it unharmed.

“can you help me?” i ask. “i need to go home.”

the man startles, looking at me. “you shouldn’t be here.”

“i know,” i say, “can you help me? i can’t figure out how to get home.”

he stares at me for a long moment, then nods, digging a small hole in the ground with the toe of his boot. “here. you kept them, didn’t you?”

he doesn’t specify, but i know what he means. i take out the mostly empty water bottle and the torn plastic packets of the saltine crackers. i shouldn’t have eaten them. but it was the only way to get out the cave.

the man sighs, as if i’m tiresome, and takes them from my hands. he empties the saltine crumbs into the dirt, then pours the last of the water on top. he directs me to stand on top of the hole, and i do, and he kicks the dirt in around my feet. “they didn’t have to help you. you’re lucky they gave those to you.”

i am. i would not have gotten out of the cave without them. i would not be going home without them.

the man takes a step backwards, leans back, and swings the scythe through me.

then i wake up.

my bed is soft and warm. i wonder if i was the corn or the wheat.

my cousin has been two years younger then me our whole lives and she is two years younger than me when she dies. it is strange to think that for the rest of my life my cousin will not age and i will. i live on the other side of the country to her. the last time i was home, i had a bus to catch and she was busy talking to her boyfriend, so instead of waiting to hug her goodbye, i left and said, “i’ll hug you extra hard next time,” and the pain is too familiar to be sharp.

i dream we are in a beach house like we visited once as children, but we are adults. i am delighted to be here, with my family, warm and content and safe. my cousin is there and we’re floating in the pool and i look at her and my easy contentment falters. something is wrong. i put my arms under her shoulders and knees, like i’m supporting a child who’s just learning how to float, and she looks very still and peaceful until she cracks open an eye to grin at me. “oh no,” i say say, looking at her, remembering, “you’re dead.” disappointment flashes over her face. i wasn’t supposed to say anything. i wasn’t supposed to remember.

then i wake up.

i dream we at a garden we’ve never been to. it is bright and easy and the moment i see her, i know that she is dead, but she does not. i don’t tell her, i let her drag me to look at roses bloom, and try to feel for coldness in her skin, but it’s warm. i make myself smile and she doesn’t make me let go of her hand and it’s so very warm here. for the first time i want to stay, but it’s not even a choice. she looks down at our clasped hands and when she looks up, her lips are tinged blue. “oh no,” she says, and i’m reaching for her, to pull her in to hug her extra hard, but i’m not quick enough, “i’m dead.”

then i wake up.

can you forget you’re dead? i wonder. can you forget you’re alive?

the last stickysharp dream i had was over a year ago, and it was this:

i am at the beach with all my friends. i love them so much. it’s hot and and the sand burns my feet so we are sitting on the shoreline, damp and hot and laughing.

there is a bright flash of light. it’s a bomb going off. i don’t know how i know, but i do, and i run.

you can’t outrun a bomb, but i try, my first instinct to flee and the hot sand is burning my feet. it takes me too long to realize that no one else is running, that they’re all standing perfectly still, watching their death coming for them.

my friends are still at the shoreline. the first shockwave is coming. i don’t have enough time to run back to them, even though i want to.

i die alone

then i wake up.

i do not remember my dreams, generally, and i don’t put much meaning into dreams, generally

generally

#this is your grandma talking #yes these are real dreams yes they happened exactly as describes #even my subconcious is dramatic

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onechicago-upsteadrhekker · 3 years

Text

breathe again (the air i would kill to breathe)--upstead one-shot

So, I wrote some more angst. You can blame @imjustwritingg and @anniesardors because we are now in an angst competition and this is my submission. I think I might win.

As strange as it might be, I actually had a lot of fun writing this. I also cried and have been deeply in my feels for the better part of the past few months as I wrote on this. I do have happier things in the works, but I don’t think I could ever not write angst so there is your warning I suppose.

Anyways, I hope you enjoy and I can’t wait to hear what you think!

Title is taken from Sara Bareilles’s Breathe Again. I like the Sleeping At Last cover!

Read on AO3

They are sitting in one of their new favorite places to decompress after a long day of working or just when they needed to have a good chat, partner to partner, friend to friend.

The bar was cozy, and it already held some of Jay’s favorite memories from past visits with Hailey—his birthday celebration with just the two of them, Hailey’s four-year anniversary of joining Intelligence, a place they went when they did not want to be interrupted by their other friends.

A place that was special to just them.

Jay could not help but think that she looked particularly beautiful tonight sitting across from him in the low-lit bar, the Christmas lights shining through the window highlighting her features.

She was not dressed fancy, in her usual winter outfit of a button-down and skinny jeans with her sturdy snow boots, but the way her eyes sparkled merrily as she laughed, her smile lighting up the room in a way he has not seen from her in far too long makes him marvel at how effortless her beauty truly was.

She is laughing at him with that big smile of hers as he jokingly brings up the reason why they came here tonight trying to mask the nerves he was feeling.

He listens to her tell him about her job offer with a sinking stomach, desperately trying to act calm and collected instead of revealing the panic that was currently raging inside of his chest.

He pays the check, his heart beating wildly with relief because she just told him she was staying.

He is looking at her now and they are talking about losing and gaining and he cannot figure out if they are talking about them or something else entirely. His gut says them, and he is waiting with bated breath for Hailey to say whatever he knows she wants to say but then she does not, and he is watching her walk out of the bar.

An hour ago, this was his favorite bar because of the memories with Hailey it held.

Now, he is pretty sure he will only remember this place as the one where he let the girl get away.

He notices the way she quickly glances at him before she accepts the small piece of paper that was being handed to her.

They had run by the courthouse to hurry along a warrant and now he is waiting on Hailey to catch up with him because she had been stopped by the judge.

He was new and around their age.

He was also nice, charming and good-looking and he was starting to rub Jay the wrong way.

Over the past several months when Intelligence needed a warrant it was somehow always signed by this guy. When he and Hailey needed to come to the courthouse for whatever reason, they always happened to bump into him.

Jay frowned when Hailey chuckled in response of whatever was called after her as she started to make her way back across the lobby towards him.

He gives her a look when she falls into step next to him and she glances at him, staying quiet until they are back in the truck on their way to the district.

Jay cannot stand it anymore. He adjusts his grip on the steering wheel, “So, what was that all about?”

Hailey glances at him again and it reminds him of the way she looked at him before she told him about her FBI offer not even a month ago.

“Uh, he gave me his number,” She was looking everywhere but him and Jay did his best to control his emotions.

It fell quiet again and Jay did not like the awkwardness that seemed to descend upon them.

It had never been awkward with her before, and he does not like the idea of it happening now.

He clears his throat, keeping his eyes on the road, “Did he ask you out?”

She gives a curt nod, still fidgeting entirely too much with the radio in her hands, “Yes.”

“What did you say?” He dreads the answer.

“I said yes,” It was barely a whisper and when he looks over at her, she is already looking at him, her eyes telling him she was tired of waiting on him to make a move.

He quickly looks away again, closing his eyes hard for a brief moment before whipping into the roll-up and swinging into his parking spot.

“He has me to answer to if he doesn’t treat you the way you deserve.”

Jay is out of the truck without a second glance, slamming his door shut and rapidly wiping away the tears that were gathering in his eyes.

Hailey starts to date the judge and by all rights, the guy is perfect.

He has a well-paying job, he is good looking and he has a great personality.

Jay tries to find faults in him, but he cannot. He wanted to hate him, but when Jay first met him, he had received a hearty handshake and a heartfelt thank you for watching Hailey’s back.

As much as he wanted to, he could not hate him. Apparently when Hailey had told her new boyfriend how close she was with her male partner, he was more than understanding of their relationship and would not be put out from the time they spent time together.

How could he hate someone who respected the time Hailey spent with him, another guy who already spent her whole workday with.

So, Jay decides to hate the way her name clashes with his. Mike and Hailey. Hailey and Mike. They do not go together at all.

Not like his name fit with hers. Jay and Hailey—Detectives Halstead and Upton. Hailey and Jay—Detectives, partners, best friends; nothing more.

But then maybe he hates the way they fit even more because all it does is remind him of something they should have had but for some reason never did.

He thinks that they were meant to be together, but then he thinks that if it has not happened by now then maybe it was never meant to be.

“Hailey, are you sure you’re okay?”

Jay is standing, facing her with his arms crossed and a worried brow.

She sighs, “Yes, Jay, for the thousandth time, I am fine. It’s barely even a scratch.”

He lets out a disbelieving scoff and approaches the bed where she is sitting with her legs folded underneath her. She tries not to gasp when he gently touches the side of her face, turning it slightly to inspect the long gash running across her forehead and to the top of her ear.

“You’re not fine, Hailey. You could have died,” His voice cracks and he sounds like a desperate man, pleading and scared.

It is his tears that makes hers start to well up and she tentatively wraps her fingers around the wrist of the hand that was now borderline caressing her cheek.

She looks earnestly, desperately into his glossy green eyes, “But I didn’t because you saved me.”

He is standing very close to her, and she can feel his breath ghosting over her face as he looks down at her, his large hand holding the side of her face as they stare into each other’s eyes. She swears he glances down at her lips.

Her heart is beating erratically inside her chest, waiting for him to close the distance between them but then the curtain is thrown back and Jay moves faster than she thinks she has ever seen.

It is Mike and Hailey instantly feels bad at the way she is disappointed to see him. At the way she wishes he had not come, but he is her boyfriend, and he has every right to be there with her because she knows he loves her.

Mike’s hand is now where Jay’s was just seconds ago, and it does not feel nearly as comforting and good and right as Jay’s did, but she is not supposed to have those feelings anymore, so she tries to ignore them and leans into Mike.

“Oh my God, Hailey,” He breaths out in concern, “Are you all right? The nurse called me and told me you got hurt on the job.”

She tries to give him a convincing smile.

She is not all right but she cannot tell him that because it has nothing to do with gash on her head.

Hailey reaches out and touches his chest, “I’m fine. Jay was watching my back.”

Mike seems to realize that they are not alone and turns to face Jay, reaching out a sincere hand, “Thank you for protecting her.”

Jay shakes his head and takes Mike’s hand, trying to swallow the lump in his throat, “You don’t have to thank me. It’s my job.”

He glances at Hailey so quick that only she notices it and she gets what he is saying. He never wants the thanks because it is just a given for him. He will always protect her or die trying and nothing will ever change that.

He flashes a smile at Mike who is none the wiser of what he just told Hailey with his eyes and excuses himself, quickly slipping out of the sliding glass door as he lets the tears fall.

It is dark in the corner of Molly’s he had retreated to away from all the commotion that was happening around the bar.

He watches Hailey beam at her girlfriends who were trying to get a closer look at her displayed left hand, and he slinks back farther in his chair, picking at the label of his untouched beer.

He always had a hard time drinking without Hailey and she was busy right now.

Adam, Kevin and Voight are patting Mike on the back in a congratulatory manner and while Jay knows it is irrational, he feels somewhat betrayed by his closest friends.

He wishes that they were clapping him on the back in congratulations instead and that he was in the center of attention along with Hailey, but he forces himself to recognize that it is his fault that things are unfolding this way.

He’d had chances but he never thought Hailey would actually settle down with this man he despised for the sole reason that he was not him.

Jay fully recognized he was a fool for thinking he did not have to work for her. He knew he was a fool for thinking she would eventually break-up with Mike, and he would be waiting for her and then they would live happily ever after like some damn fairy tale romance.

He knew better than that.

Picking at the fraying label again, Jay sees Hailey flash around the diamond on her finger and he cannot help but think of the ring that he bought on a whim after seeing it in a local storefront.

He had randomly seen it one day and thought that if he were ever to propose to someone, he wanted it to be with that ring.

He had seen it and he had immediately thought of Hailey.

He does not know why he bought it, but he did, and he now knows that it will never be given to the person it was intended for.

The ring flashes and Jay thinks his ring would look better on her finger.

Hailey beams and Jay thinks her smile is not as bright as it used to be.

He takes a sip of his now lukewarm beer and Jay thinks he should probably get used to drinking without Hailey.

“Come in.”

He opens the door and cannot help but gasp.

She looks beautiful.

Her hair pinned out of her face, blonde curls cascading down her back, a veil clipped in place with a sparkling barrette. Her dress is elegant but simple and it fit Hailey perfectly.

She is standing in front of a tall full-length mirror, admiring her reflection when she turns to softly smile at him, “What’re you doing in here?”

He notices Kim crossing her arms and narrowing her eyes as she stands off to the side getting herself ready, “No boys allowed.”

He has to tear his gaze away from Hailey to glance at her, “Yeah, well, I had to come see my best friend before she became a married woman.”

Kim’s eyes soften and Hailey looks over at her, gently nodding towards the door, “Could you give us a few minutes?”

“Of course,” She gives them both a look like she knows they are about to close a chapter that they never got right before she disappears out the door.

Jay clears his throat, “You look absolutely stunning, Hailey.”

Her cheeks flush and she gives him a once over, picking up the skirt of her dress to approach him, stopping only a few inches in front of him. Reaching out, she quickly straightens his bowtie and takes a step back, cocking her head with an affectionate smile, “And you look very handsome.”

She meets his eyes, blue on green and he cannot help but just stare because after this, she is Mike’s forever and always and it would not be right to stare at her like he wants her.

Somehow, he does not think that her being married will stop him from wanting her, but he will try.

He is drinking her in like this is the last time he is seeing her and in a way it is. This is the last time where he can look at her with the hope of someday being more.

There are so many things left unsaid and he can see his own anguish reflecting back at him; hopes and promises and dreams swimming in her eyes, fading away with each passing second. A future that could have been theirs and will now only stay alive in quiet imaginings and forbidden dreams.

He could tell her. Right here and right now. That he loved her. That they could work. That he never wants to be without her, but it was her wedding day, and he could not do that to her.

He was too late, and it would not be fair for him to beg for her now when she had already given him every opportunity.

So, he accepted the gentle kiss she bestowed on his cheek, and he looked back into her watery eyes, heartbroken and sad.

They stared into each other’s eyes and a thousand memories of laughing and crying and comfortable silences and shared looks flooded in like a painful smile because he was the guest, and she was the bride.

The first time they rolled up to a crime scene after she and Mike tied the knot was one that would stay with him but not because the case they’d caught was gruesome or personal.

It was because of her.

She looked the same. She talked the same. She had that same bright smile and brilliant sparkle in her eye, but it was different now.

She was a married woman and the person that came back from her honeymoon was a slightly different person than he knew—a person he would never get to know because only her husband was privy to the person she was behind closed doors.

And he was not her husband and that crushed him almost to the point of not being able to function.

Jay never knew he could grieve so much for a person who was still by his side every day.

He tries to ignore the simple wedding band she wore now and thinks if he could just pretend she wasn’t married then their days would be no different. He could still have that intimate partnership with her and maybe he could imagine for a little while that they were just perpetually on the precipice of something more even though he knew nothing could ever happen now.

But then they were there, at the first crime scene where he was Jay, the single partner and she was Hailey, the married one.

Nodding at the patrol officer, he introduced himself, “Detective Halstead,” he then gestured to Hailey, “This is Detective Upton.”

She glanced at him, and he shook his head. Right, not Detective Upton.

“I mean Detective Martin.”

He curses himself and tries not to look too sick at the now constant reminder she was not and never will be his as he watched his newly married partner, Hailey Anne Martin walk off with the patrol officer.

He could not help but think his own last name sounded much better with hers than Mike’s did.

Jay forces himself to follow them with the sounds of Hailey Anne Halstead echoing in the back of his mind—taunting him, reminding him of the future he had just lost for good.

Almost a year later, when Hailey disappeared into Voight’s office looking a little unsure and maybe even a little sad, he was scared he was about to lose the only thing keeping them together now.

But when she announced her pregnancy a few weeks later, the subtle shifts in her behavior suddenly made sense, his heart dropping to his feet. He put on a smile for her, but it was hard when her smile held that same sadness and regret it had on her wedding day.

If the dreams haunting him for weeks after that were of little feet and giggling faces that had her features mixed in with his, well.

He would never admit it.

“Hi.”

She looks up, a dulled sparkle in her eye, “Hey.”

He nods to the bundle in her arms, afraid to get too close and see the baby that looks nothing like him and a lot like Mike, “What’s his name?”

She smiles, happy but there is still something in her expression that is achingly sad, “Meet Jay Robert Martin.”

He blinks. An odd lump forming in his throat, “Really?”

She chuckles a little at that and nods her head, “Yes, really.”

He blinks again, “Why?”

She shrugs, “Because you’ve saved my life more times than I can count and I—"

She hesitates. She was going to say it, he could see it in her eyes, but she settles for the phrase, “And because I care a lot about you” instead.

She named the baby after him. He is honored, but inside he is devastated because that could have been his son in her arms bearing his name.

Instead of being called daddy, he would be called Uncle much like the rest of the unit and if that did not break his heart more than it was already broken.

He is happy for her, truly, but he knows that some part of him is always going to see the life where he is Hailey’s husband and the father of her children.

And sometimes he cannot help but think Hailey sees that too.

She’s there.

Standing in the back, smiling at him and he wishes that she were standing next to him, but that was not her place, and it had not really ever been hers regardless of how much he wished it.

He shakes Voight’s hand and then turns to shake the Superintendent’s outstretched grip, graciously accepting the round of applause from the audience, blushing at his teammates hoots and hollers.

He walks off the stage and is vaguely aware of the congratulations and hearty slaps he was receiving. He responds with the proper amount of enthusiasm, but his eyes are always looking at her.

Excusing himself, he leaves the group, missing the way they all exchange a melancholy look of understanding. One they have exchanged many times before.

He approaches her and he notices the way her smile does not fully reach her eyes and he is always wondering if she also imagines a universe in which they are all there together and happy and one big family.

“Sergeant Jay Halstead,” She hums out, her smile growing into a warm smirk, “I have to admit, it has a nice ring to it.”

She is loving and affectionate and she is looking at him with all the feelings she is not supposed to have, and he can feel his throat closing up.

He forces out a quick grin, “Thanks.”

She is still looking at him, her eyes holding everything she cannot say aloud, and Jay tries to come up with something to say because he cannot take her looking at him like this. Not today. Not right now.

Not ever, really.

“I uh, I thought you weren’t going to make it,” He furrows his brows, “Didn’t Robby have a game tonight?”

Hailey shakes her head, her smile turning a little sadder, “I wasn’t about to miss my partner getting a promotion.”

She looks away for a brief second before looking back at him and Jay thinks he can see the glisten of tears in her eyes, “Although I guess you’re my Sergeant now, not my partner anymore.”

Tears sting his own eyes and his heart squeezes tight in his chest.

She is right.

They are not partners anymore. He just got a promotion; Intelligence is his and now he is her sergeant.

He should be excited but he’s not. He’s mourning the loss of the only thing that’s keeping them together now and it hurts so bad because he is losing her.

He is always losing her with each day that passes.

“She’s beautiful, Mike.”

The other man grins, “Yeah, we like her all right.”

Jay smiles but his heart is not in it.

Like always, he is touched that Hailey includes him in her big life events and like always, he is truly happy for her, but it also serves as a painful reminder of the life he wanted to have with her.

He is grateful to be in Hailey’s life at all and he would not give up the relationship they have now for anything, but he also thinks that it is some kind of cruel punishment that he is constantly forced to watch her love and grow a family with a man that is not him.

“And did you see those dimples?” Mike has a dreamy look on his face and his eyes shone proudly, “Perfect just like her mother’s.”

Yes, Jay thinks, perfect just like Hailey.

He clears his throat, tired of the way he always seems to tear up while he is with Hailey and her family because everything reminds him of the deep regrets he has been carrying around for years now.

“I like the name Annie,” He says trying to keep the conversation flowing so they do not lapse into an uncomfortable silence like they are prone to do.

He has never been close to Hailey’s husband and Jay knows this is because he is in love with the man’s wife. On some level, Jay thinks that Mike is aware of this and that is why neither of them have ever tried.

In any case, Jay does not think he could ever really be friends with anyone who is married to the girl he loves.

Mike shifts his weight to lean against the banister making the old porch creak slightly, “It was my great-grandmother’s name. We also liked it because it is similar to Hailey’s middle name.”

Jay nods absentmindedly and thinks about how lucky that little girl is to have Hailey as a mom. He always thought she would make a great mother regardless of who fathered the children, and he was right.

If he were to ever have children, he would only want Hailey as their mother and that is how he knows he will never have children.

“It means a lot to Hailey that you are here tonight,” Mike breaks the silence and Jay glances at him from his place sitting on their porch steps.

“I wouldn’t miss it,” He manages a sincere smile because he is telling the truth.

He would not miss welcoming Hailey’s daughter into the world even if it did hurt.

“She loves you, you know.”

Jay feels his heart stop in his chest and his mouth dry up, “What?” It came out garbled and he is looking at Mike like he just grew antlers.

Mike’s eyes meet his and Jay is shocked to see the depth of knowledge in the other man’s gaze.

He cannot help think that perhaps he was not as subtle as he thought he was regarding his feelings for Hailey.

“And I know you love her so I can’t imagine how hard this must be for you.”

He cannot come up with a proper response.

Or any type of response really because he is still gaping speechless at Mike who is now staring off into the night sky.

“We’re just partners,” The statement falls off his lips in a conditioned response.

It is the words he always used to describe his and Hailey’s relationship back when friends and family gave him knowing looks and teasing smiles. He has not had anyone question his feelings for Hailey in a long time and he feels slightly panicked that it is happening now and by her husband no less.

Mike shakes his head, scoffing lightly as he looks back into the night sky, “I don’t think you two were ever just partners. I’ve known that from the very beginning, but I liked Hailey and I wanted to be with her as long as she would stay with me.”

Jay blinks and he does not know what to say or how to react. He does not know where this is going, and he does not like not knowing.

“I know a part of her will always love you, but I love her enough to be with her on any terms even if that means not having her whole heart,” Mike sighs, pausing for a brief second, “I won’t lie and say that it doesn’t hurt at times, but I know how lucky I am that I even got her at all.”

Jay just stares at him, finally managing to get out a “Why?”

Why is he telling him this? Why now?

Mike seems to understand what he is asking, and he turns to face him, “She doesn’t say anything about it obviously, but I know it’s getting harder and harder for her to see you; to work with you every day.”

Jay definitely does not like where this is going.

Mike looks directly in his eyes and there is a hard edge there that he has never seen from the man before, “I know she has more than enough experience to make Sergeant, but she doesn’t want to take the test because she thinks you need her. You are holding her back, Jay, and I think it is time that you let her make a life for herself outside of Intelligence.”

All he can do is stare at the man. He wants to rail and shout and tell him that he cannot dictate what Hailey does with her life or tell him what to do but some part of him deep down knows that Mike is right.

Maybe it is time to let her go but it is so hard because he is not ready to give her up.

And it hurts too. God, it hurts so bad, and he thinks that it will always hurt because he knows what he and Hailey had was real and true, but their timing was just always off.

His heart is breaking because even though he is not with Hailey in the way he wants, she is still the best thing in his life and the thought of giving that up makes him physically sick.

He is aware of Mike moving towards the front door. He pauses and looks over his shoulder.

“Goodnight, Jay.”

He is left on the porch, and he can hear little giggles from inside the house. Hailey is laughing and there is a squeal of ‘daddy’, and he imagines Mike is swinging Robby up into the air.

It is too painful, and he thinks it will only get more painful as time goes by.

There are bright flashes and enthusiastic applause as he waits to shake her hand after the superintendent.

She turns to him. He is smiling at her but there are tears in his eyes. She is carrying herself proudly but there is anguish written all over her face.

They are both torn. He wants her to succeed in everything, but he does not want to lose her. She wants to advance her career, but she does not want to leave him.

They stood there, looking at each other, saying nothing. But it was the kind of nothing that meant everything.

The world spins obliviously around them as they become strangers who share long lost memories and quick smiles every once in a while.

It is a peaceful night out, the air humid and warm and it feels like the perfect summer night. The sun has almost disappeared over the horizon, a soft glow painting the trees and the houses along the street.

He is sitting alone on the porch steps listening to the chaos that is happening through the screen door and when he hears it swing open, he does not need to turn to see who it is because he already knows.

She sits down beside him, leaving a few feet of space in between them and does not say anything, just stares into the dusky night.

“I can’t believe Annie’s already thirteen.”

Jay glances at her before clasping his hands over his knees, nodding thoughtfully, “It seems like just yesterday she was born.”

Hailey scoffs, “Tell me about it. I don’t feel old enough to have two teenagers.”

He looks back over at her. She is still staring off into nothing in particular and Jay cannot help but notice once again just how beautiful she is. Her hair is still golden blonde, and her complexion looks as young as ever, the laugh lines around her eyes only making her seem more youthful.

“You certainly don’t look it,” It just slips out and he cannot help the way his stomach flutters when he sees her cheeks flush like they used to when he flirted with her in the truck over fifteen years ago before Hailey was a wife and a mother and nothing more than his friend and partner.

They fall silent again, each watching the night become dark as they listen to the happy teenage squeals that are coming from within the house.

“Do you regret it?” She says suddenly and he glances at her, her gaze still far away.

He sucks in a breath, “What?’

She shrugs, “I don’t know,” She shakes her head, “Everything?”

He is quiet for a long moment, and he does not have to ask to know what she means.

Hailey is about to tell him to just forget it, that it was a silly question but then he opens his mouth, and she shuts hers, the tears already starting to prick her eyes as the feelings that have never dulled over the years come to the surface.

“Just because things didn’t happen between us the way that we maybe wanted doesn’t mean that you aren’t the best thing that has ever happened to me. Because you were.”

It is the closest they have ever gotten to talking about this thing that has been between them from almost the very beginning and Hailey suddenly feels transported to a day in the past when she thought one of their moments was about to turn into something more and change her life forever.

But then she remembers she is married and has two children, and she cannot have a life with Jay.

She blinks, “Yeah,” She looks at him with glistening eyes, “You were for me too.”

The church is packed with people in uniform and Jay is once again awed at Hank Voight’s reach within the city. The damn mayor was even there.

He is serving as a pallbearer along with Kevin, Kim, Adam and of course, Hailey. It is fitting that they are the ones chosen to do this because they were the ones chosen by the man himself to be in his unit and they are the ones who lasted the longest.

Jay would wager a bet that they were all more like family to Voight than he would have ever admitted, and he thinks that they all know that deep in their hearts so that is why they are doing this—to give their sergeant one last send off.

To say thank you for bringing them together and creating this family that they never would have had if it had not been for him.

“Jay,” Kevin taps his upper arm to get his attention, nodding towards the double doors in the back of the church and that is when he sees her.

She is dressed nearly identical to him, give or take a few medals and even though he would not call the CPD uniform blues highly fashionable, Hailey wears it like she has just stepped off a magazine cover.

Her eyes find his and she gives him a sad little smile like she knows that this is yet another chapter of their past closing. With each ending, the memories and the laughter and the comfortable silences are drifting away and truly becoming a thing of the past.

In a way, it almost feels like a whole lifetime ago.

She is in front of him now and they say nothing because their eyes say all they need to know. Sighing, he glances down at the floor with a heaviness he has not felt in a long time before he looks up and draws her into a hug.

He does not remember the last time he hugged her. He thinks maybe it was after she had Annie, but he tries to refrain from any physical contact with her because he is always left with wanting more.

Today, he knows they both need it, so he gives in and squeezes her tight.

The Intelligence unit they know is slowly starting to die and it hurts more than words could say.

It might sound dramatic, but it almost feels like the end of an era.

Cork and Kerry had not changed much over the years.

It was somewhat of a comfort to see some things stayed the same, but mostly, it felt like his heart was in a vice because when he looked around, he was brought right back to the moment when Hailey was telling him about her FBI offer and he was watching her walk out the door and away from a life that should have been there’s.

He sees her sitting there, her jacket thrown over the back of her seat like it had been all those years ago and even though she is clearly much older, all he can see is her bright smile and sparkling blue eyes.

“Jay,” She says it softly and he cannot help but return the gentle smile she is giving him, “You made it.”

He sits down, “Like I would ever miss this. Besides, what else is there to do?”

She smirks, “Jay Halstead getting a little bored in his retirement and old age?”

Rolling his eyes, he gives her a knowing look, “You know I never could handle not being on the job without getting restless.”

“Jay,” She lets out a little laugh, “It’s been twelve years.”

“Exactly,” He stresses, and she just shakes her head.

“You seriously need a hobby or something other than sitting around with an itchy trigger finger,” She is teasing him but there is also a hint of concern in her voice, and he knows she worries that he is lonely.

He is lonely but it is his own fault because the only person he would want to spend any time with is her and even though they both grew old, they did not do it together, so he has no wife, and he has no children.

He offers a smile and tries not to look as sad as he feels, “I did clean out my attic recently,” He reaches inside his pocket and pulls out a well-worn photograph, “And actually, I found this. I thought you might want to see it.”

He slides it across the table, and she reaches for it. He watches as she studies the picture, a melancholy look coming over her face as she gently touches the picture, whispering almost to herself, “We were so young.”

It is a picture of the whole team after what he is pretty sure was a successful raid but what draws him to the picture is the way that Hailey is leaning on him. She has her head on his chest and the grins on their faces tell him that someone probably cracked a joke as the photo was being taken.

They look happy and if you look closely, one would almost believe that he and Hailey were an item at the time but he knows that they were not.

They were almost a lot of things, and he thinks almost is one of the saddest words in the English language.

He almost kissed her. She almost told him how she felt. They were almost together.

Almost but not quite.

He looks at the picture and he wants to pretend that they are still living in that moment because even if it was only for a heartbeat, everything was perfect.

Hailey lets out a little huff, a hint of wonder in her voice, “Look at us. So full of life.”

Jay lets out a little hum of acknowledgement and Hailey looks up at him, her eyes earnest and shining with memories of a life long ago.

“Those truly were the best years, weren’t they?” She says it so reverently and it makes a lump form in his throat because while they saw hard things and went through tough times, he would go back to that point in time in an instant.

Now when he knows how important people are and how precious time is. And even if you scream and argue and fight, family is everything and you should never take anything for granted.

Now when he knows love is worth fighting for even if you are scared.

God, if he could go back, he would fight for Hailey till his very last breath and never give up no matter the outcome.

“Yeah,” He clears his throat, “Yeah, they were.”

A corner of Hailey’s screws up in some kind of half-smile and he thinks she is trying not to cry.

She shakes her head, still lost in the picture, “I’ve done a lot in my life, but this—Intelligence,” She trails off, lost in thought and gives the picture one last swipe of her thumb before passing it back to Jay.

“We were a good team,” She smiles at him, and he can see all the memories playing in her eyes.

He nods, sliding the picture back into his wallet, “Me, you, Kev, Adam, Kim, Voight—We were the best,” He gives her a gentle smile, “You made us the best.”

Hailey cocks her head, a perplexed look on her face, “What do you mean?”

“Don’t get me wrong, Intelligence was always a good unit but,” He shakes his head, “I don’t think we really became a team until after you walked in that bank. You made all of us better which made the unit better.”

He pauses before softly admitting, “You made me better.”

There are tears in her eyes, but she does not say anything. He takes a deep breath, glancing away for a second before looking back at her.

“You ever think about timing?” He does not give her a chance to answer and powers through before he loses the nerve to be honest with his feelings for her, “Time, fate, whatever dictates how and when things fall into place. It’s all so very delicate and fragile—when you think that just one slight change or difference could have set your life on a completely different path.”

Jay fidgets with the beer label and looks up at her through his eyelashes, “Today, forty-seven years ago you walked into a bank, and you saved my life. Now we are sitting here having beers and you are my best friend. Have been for forty-seven years.”

He turns to look out of the window, deep in thought, “Do you ever wonder what would have happened if we met later or earlier or not at all?”

Do you ever wonder that we met before we were supposed too? Or maybe we didn’t meet early enough?

Were we ever supposed to meet?

Those are the questions he is really asking, but then he dismisses the last question that crossed his mind because he knows that they were always supposed to meet.

He is better because of her.

He is not married, and he does not have children, but his life was full nonetheless because of her, and he would not trade that for anything.

“Timing really is everything, isn’t it?” She speaks softly, and he knows what they are each really saying just like all those years ago in this same bar when they were talking in vague metaphors about gaining and losing.

They had the chemistry. They had the love. They had the whole damn universe, but the timing was always off.

They were a perfect fit, he and Hailey, there was just too much going on for them to see it until it was too late and then they were too afraid to do anything about it.

Hailey looks at him and he looks at her and it seems like they are looking at each other for the first time in years. And just like back then, there is so much love in their glance. And yet somehow the timing is still not right—she is still married, and he is not the kind of man to break up a marriage no matter how much he loves her.

And it seems that this is how it will always be for the two of them—like thunder and lightning—their timing would always be a little bit off.

He is sitting in the back alone. No one has noticed him which is fine because he does not want to talk.

He pulled out his old uniform for this and he feels strange wearing it after all this time, but it was the very least she deserved.

It does not seem real. She was always so strong, her voice always a phone call away and he did not want it to be real.

He watches as her family sniffles at the front of the church, each taking turns looking into the casket to say goodbye and he cannot bring himself to go up there. He does not want to see her laying there lifeless because in his mind, in his memory, Hailey was anything but and he does not want to mar those images.

Besides, Hailey’s family is up there and while he knows they love her, he cannot help but think of the family that should be up there.

The family that was forged through tough cases, long nights, emotionally charged moments, blood, sweat and tears.

Because that’s the family that really knew her. They knew what ticked her off, what rubbed her the wrong way and how to make her smile when she was tried and worn-thin.

He’d known.

They had seen her at her weakest, at her most fierce, and the way she fought like a bat out of hell when she needed to.

He’d seen.

But his place is not up there with her children and grandchildren and her husband. It is here in the back where he can remember the person she was to him, to her unit, to her community because he is the only person left that will ever really know.

He sits and he grieves for her, and he grieves for the life that he wanted. The life that they could have had had the universe not gotten in the way one too many times and had they not been so scared to take that leap.

He wants to go tell every young boy that loved a girl, yell it till he was blue in the face that it was never too complicated or too hard or the ‘wrong timing’. Not if the love was real. It was worth the fight, always.

Quietly, he slips from the shadows and slowly makes his way out to his truck. He is old, but all those years of keeping in shape paid off because he is pretty spry for an 85-year-old man. He could not run like he used to, but he is still sharp enough to recite every ordinance in the book and his vision is still 20-20 so he is able to live alone, and he can still drive himself to wherever he wants.

He hoists himself up in the truck he had bought after he retired. It is the same make and model of his favorite truck he had had during his partnership with Hailey, only a newer year, but it still smelt the same and looked the same and he almost did not get it because it reminded him of so many memories of them together.

Looking over to his right, he can almost see her now. Her eyes bright and her hair shining as she settles into her place, reaching for the radio to toggle through the channels as she laughs at something he said.

The memory is frozen in time, and he wants to always remember those moments when they were in the in between, waiting for something more to happen until it didn’t, and they were back to strictly being best friends.

But even after she started dating Mike and after she got married, they still had that special connection. The one where they could just look at the other and know that something was off; they could still exchange looks across the room and know what the other was thinking.

Just because she was not his did not mean they suddenly did not know every little thing about the other one.

Just because she was not his did not mean he loved her any less.

Jay blinks hard, still looking at the empty seat beside him.

Even through it is not the same truck and she has not sat beside him in years, he knows that seat will always be hers.

He turns the ignition on and carefully pulls out into the street in no particular direction, just driving and seeing all the memories that he has with Hailey in every part of Chicago play out like a movie of their best years.

He does not know why but he ends up driving to the 21st district. The roll-up is full of cars he does not recognize but his spot that he parked in every day for almost 20 years is empty, so he swings his truck into the space like he has done a thousand times before.

It is like he is not in control of his body as something forces him out of the truck and into the district. The codes are still the same and he ends up in the bullpen—it still houses Intelligence, but he does not know it’s current members as intimately as he knew his team.

They are all young and eager and smart and when he sees them it is like he is transported back in time when he, Hailey, Kim, Kevin and Adam were the rising stars of the CPD, and they were the unit everyone looked to when they needed answers.

Jay thinks they must be out running surveillance because the room is empty and there are mugshots of up and coming shot callers for the Latin Players, so they are clearly in the middle of working a case.

The room is still basically laid out like it was when he was in the unit. He can still see Kim grinning at Adam who is covering his head from the paper balls Hailey is throwing at him, Kevin standing off to the side shaking his head in amusement.

He can still hear the laughter and the arguments and the teasing. He can still smell the coffee in the air and feel the sunlight streaming through the windows like nothing had ever changed but it had because now he is the only one left who remembers that point in history.

Jay gravitates toward his desk, the one he sat at when he was just the other detective in the unit, the one that was right across from Hailey’s and when he sits down in the seat for the first time in years, he notices the single envelope sitting on the desk.

He is surprised to see his name scrawled across the front and tears prick his eyes because he immediately knows who it is from.

Even after all these years, he would recognize her handwriting anywhere. The slightly messy, looping scrawl he used to tease her for.

He does not know how this got here or how Hailey knew he would be here, but he should not be surprised because she always did know him better than he knew himself.

The way his hands are shaking has nothing to do with his old age as he opens the envelope and pulls out what appears to be a letter handwritten by Hailey. Unfolding the paper, he uses a hand to wipe away the tears that have already gathered there at just the sight of her familiar handwriting.

He begins to read, and he can hear her voice just as clear as if she were there reading it to him with a fond smile playing at her lips.

To my dearest Jay,

If you are reading this it means that I am no longer here. I have to say, I am impressed you managed to outlive me because for a while there I thought for sure you were going to die well before your time because you kept getting shot.

He cannot help but chuckle because of course, she would find a way to shove that back in his face one last time.

There is a lot I want to say. More than I could ever write in a letter because I don’t think I could ever fully articulate my thoughts and feelings. I never really had to do that with you anyway—you always just knew but I am not there to tell you so I guess I will just have to do my best here because I need you to know how much you mean to me.

I have so many regrets regarding us and I’m not saying this to make you feel bad. I want you to know that I truly loved my life and I lived it as fully as I could, but I need you to know how much I wish thing between us could have worked out differently.

Because I love you, Jay.

“Oh Hailey,” He choaks out, tears dripping onto the sheets of paper, “I love you too. So much, you have no idea.”

Not for the first time Jay is crushed by the fact he never managed to say those words out loud to her and it is even more heartbreaking that he will never get another chance to let her know how much she means to him.

He blinks rapidly and forces himself to keep reading.

There I finally said it after all these years… Or wrote it down anyways.

I love you and I have always loved you and I will always love you.

Don’t get me wrong, I love my husband and I love my children, but Jay—you were always the one for me. Always.

I love Mike but I don’t think I was ever in love with him. Not in the way I was with you.

I could never fall for Mike or anyone else for that matter because they were not you.

He knows what she means because that is the reason he has never settled down. There was really no one after he met Hailey and honestly, he had no interest because everyone paled in comparison to her.

It is not that he did not want to date, or that he was choosing not to out of spite or pettiness, he just knew that he would never love anyone like he loved Hailey and he did not think that was fair to someone.

He honestly did not want to love someone that was not Hailey, and he was okay with that.

I was never one to really believe in fate or destiny or the concept of soulmates, but Jay, I think you were mine.

You were always my best friend and then you were my soulmate.

I think I always knew you were it for me—I knew I wanted it to be you, but I don’t think I really realized how much it was supposed to be you until after it was too late. Until I was old and grey, and I had lived my life always feeling like something was missing.

I didn’t want to admit it to myself, but it was you. I always knew that even before I forced myself to move on because I thought we had missed our chance. God, what I wouldn’t give to go back and just wait for however long it took—even if we never ended up together because I missed you.

I missed you every time we drifted further apart, and I missed you when we were together—I missed you because I knew I could never have you in the way I needed.

And I’m not talking in a lustful sense—I wanted to tell you things and spend time with you and do all the things we used to do before Mike. I couldn’t share my secrets and my feelings and my thoughts with the one person I wanted because I had a husband waiting for me at home. A husband who was expecting me to tell him all the things I used to tell you.

I wanted you. The person that knew me better than I knew myself. The person that was there from what felt like the very beginning.

I needed you. The person who went through hell and back with me, who never let me go and who never ever let me down.

But timing is everything just like you said, and I really do believe we were right for each other. Once upon a time we were supposed to be together.

But it is a cruel world, and the reality is life changes before you can even blink and then suddenly everything that you had is no longer familiar to you.

I do believe you were supposed to be my last love, the person I was supposed to grow old with, but I sometimes think that maybe we met too soon or not soon enough, or something happened, and we messed everything up because we went against fate.

We were so perfect for each other but somehow, the universe always found a way to tear us apart—your dad, Adam, Kelton, you being shot, New York…my decisions.

It’s like when everything you could ever want is right in front of you but no matter what you do, you can’t catch it.

And like I said before, I loved the family I had but there was a part of me that was always imagining you cooking in a house we picked out and babies playing in the floor that looked a little like me and a little like you.

It’s pathetic really how much I still dreamt it would be me and you at the end.

And, I guess in a way, it is. Me and you, here in the bullpen where it all started.

The end of our story right where it began.

It wasn’t a story out of a fairy-tale. Not by a long shot—our story was full of tears and panic and heartbreak and crushed dreams and disappointment and regret and we certainly didn’t get our happily ever after, but it was beautiful too.

Sometimes I think it would have been without a doubt easier if I had never met you, but then I wouldn’t have known the warmth of your smile or the joy I felt when I heard you laugh.

I would have missed out on the trust and the joy and the love and my life would have held far less meaning than it did.

All of the times we spent drinking and crying and laughing. The memories, the thoughts, the feelings—I carried them all in my heart close and dear and I pulled them out from time to time when missing you got overwhelmingly too much.

Like now as I write this letter. Like always really.

I could write forever and never tell you all that is in my heart, but I just wanted you to know how much I loved and dreamt of you. How much I wished and regretted.

I don’t really know what happens now. I don’t know what life is after death which is funny seeing as how we looked it in the face every day over the course of several decades, but I was never scared of it. The only thing I was really scared of was losing you, so I guess I’m telling you to hurry up and join me wherever I am.

Now, don’t take this as permission to go get yourself shot. Take your time, but also not too much time, okay?

Kind of ironic I’m telling you it’s okay to die whenever after I spent so many years begging you not to, isn’t it?

But you always did say you’d follow me anywhere, so I guess I’m telling you it’s okay to follow me now.

I love you, Jay Halstead.

Your partner always,

Detective Hailey Anne Upton

Fresh teardrops cover days old, dried ones and it is not lost on him that she signed her name the way she was signing it when he met her.

He sees a flash of blue eyes and blonde ponytail striding into a bank. Her voice echoing in his mind, sharp and clear as she declares that she is Detective Upton from Robbery-Homicide.

Back when she was his.

Jay slowly places a kiss over the loopy handwriting before pocketing the letter reverently and pushing himself up from his desk.

He walks down the main stairs, ignoring the hustle and bustle of police officers moving about the district and he sees moment after moment of his partnership with Hailey play out with each step he takes.

Down the front steps, turning the corner, sitting on the bench that has been there ever since he could remember.

How many lunches from a local food truck has he shared with Hailey on this bench?

He sits there and he remembers. He remembers all of the ‘I’d follow you blind’s’ and ‘we’ll always be good’s’.

All the times he looked beside him to find her laughing or smiling or teasing. The times she let him in and showed him the deepest, darkest parts of herself. The times where she pushed him, and he pushed her.

Always behind or beside or in front, watching his six and keeping his head on straight when the load got too heavy.

Every raid and stakeout and bust. All the times she was his right-hand man, his sounding board when he did not know what to do.

She always had the answer.

He knows he would have never made it without Hailey, and he does not know how he will make it now.

He blinks, reaching into his pocket for the letter and he sits there until day turns into night staring at her handwriting leaping up at him.

He sits there and he misses her.

He sits there and he closes his eyes.

He sits there and he looks for her.

And then he sees it. Her youthful smile looking at him, welcoming him, loving him and he smiles back.

God, he missed her.

Of course, he missed her. She was his partner.

#Chicago PD #upstead #upstead fanfiction #hailey upton #jay halstead #please don't kill me

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sorryimananti-romantic · 3 years

Text

Mist | Choi San | Chapter 5

Pairing: Choi San x OC (Seohyun)

Genre: supernatural (ghost), romance, high school

Trigger Warnings: paranormal, death mentions, violence

Words: 8.7k

Disclaimer: I do not own anything except my original character and the story. I do not own any gifs or pictures used.

Full story on Wattpad (don’t spoil here if you read there too)

chapter directory

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Seohyun woke up to her phone buzzing. She groaned and rubbed her eyes, checking who was calling. It was San. She declined the call to read the several text messages he had sent. It was something about how they were all going out for lunch and she was joining (funny how they'd stop asking now, just said it) and that she was... to go on a date with him later.

She texted back a simple OK and checked the time. It was already almost afternoon- she had slept in. After showering, she was brushing her teeth when she paused.

It was gonna be her first date with San.

"Ayyy~" she waved at her reflection, resuming. She wasn't one to make a big deal out of stuff, but she had to admit it was... a little bit exciting. And she couldn't say the same about San. He seemed like the type to take these things serious, like first dates. So she decided that she did not want to disappoint him and would put in a little bit effort.

Seohyun checked her wardrobe. She didn't have much 'cute' stuff. Her first priority was always comfort when she picked her clothes. And they were usually monochrome or dark colours. She didn't like wearing bright stuff. Her only mildly cute outfit was the green dress she'd worn the last time with Jiwoo.

She moved on way too early, Seohyun thought. There was no one to help her dress up now. Her mom...

Seohyun realized there was something. Her mother had given her some sort of a top for her birthday last year. She had buried it in the back of her closet because she had deemed it too 'fashionable' for her. Seohyun threw her clothes out to find it. Indeed, it was still there.

It was a purple blouse with lace around the neck and tiny pearls. She shrugged. She'd pair it with pants and ankle boots.

After dressing up and tying her hair in half a ponytail, she stood in front of the mirror. She looked presentable, if one ignored her still-puffy-from-sleeping face. She sighed and put on the only lip gloss she had. That could do. She smiled at her reflection once before grabbing her phone and leaving the house.

They were meeting at a new café that Yunho and Yeosang had been wanting to try on forever. Yeosang had assured them it had good reviews for their desserts too. They were all already there by the time Seohyun reached. She had spent a good minute admiring the exterior of the café while the boys laughed at her unaware self, watching her through the window.

Mingi waved at her once she was inside and they made space for her. After exchanging greetings, they decided they would order food first. They decided on ordering two of everything and sharing, and once they gave the order, they all looked at Seohyun.

"You look... like you actually made effort today," Hongjoong commented.

"What do you mean?" Seohyun asked, forgetting for a second.

"Hey, don't say that, or she'll never dress up again," San pouted, and Seohyun realized, looking down at her dress.

"Is it too much?" she asked, "I've actually, honestly, never made effort. So I need honest reviews."

"It's not too much, it's perfect," Seonghwa assured, "In fact, you could have done more, but since this is you, it's perfect."

"That sounds.... like a compliment and insult at the same time, thank you Seonghwa."

They laughed and Yeosang said, "Hongjoong's the fashionista. You should only ask him."

"Yes, yes, Seonghwa's right. You look good!"

"That's the only top I had," Seohyun sighed, looking at San who was staring at her with an adorable expression on his face. "The rest of my wardrobe, you've seen."

"I guess we're going shopping then after this. I hope you have the card on you that you liked to flex about so much," Hongjoong smirked.

"I do-"

"But we're going on our first date today-"

"WHAT?!"

Seohyun face-palmed. San had done it.

San looked at Seohyun for help and she sighed. "Well, no need to over-react, Wooyoung. As you all know, San and I are... sort of, uh... dating?"

Yunho snickered first before everyone started laughing at how awkward Seohyun suddenly got, and it was her turn to look at San for help. It wasn't everyday she lost her demeanor. Falling in love did make one a different person, she realized.

"Yeah, so you're sort of dating?" Jongho wiggled his eyebrows.

"Yes, Jongho, we're DATING." Seohyun said, "And San was planning to take me on our first date after this."

"You haven't been on your first date yet?" Wooyoung asked, "But it's been days now that you've been together! Sannie, you disappoint me!"

Before San could choke Wooyoung, Seohyun interrupted, "It was me. I was busy dealing with ghosts. It turns out Jiwoo had actually been a saint. Did anyone of you know that she used to do half my jobs?"

Everyone fell silent as they listened, "She was never 'bored' of coming to school with me. She just had so much time to kill that she'd help ghosts instead of me. I kind of miss her more now."

"That's sweet," Mingi said, "She really was a great friend."

"I know right! Anyways, this is the reason we haven't had our first date yet."

Other than San, the boys shared looks, and Seohyun saw with dread the devilish smirks appear on their faces as they announced: "Too bad! We're crashing your first date!"

San groaned and dramatically fell back in his chair while Seohyun gaped at them. "I-I'm speechless for once." Laughter filled the room as she said, "If that's what friends are for, I think I'm gonna change my mind..."

Before anyone could protest, food came and they started discussing Hongjoong's love for fashion and the various items he had reformed. Hongjoong assured her if she had a clothing item or something she would like to reform, he was the man.

"I do have this denim jacket that I'm too attached to," Seohyun thought about it, "Can you write something cool on the back of it?"

"Yes, just give me the jacket whenever you can. It'll take no more than two days, unless we have exams."

Seohyun looked at Seonghwa for confirmation and he nodded. "He also makes custom bracelets for us."

"Nice," Seohyun said, "I'd like some too," she wiggled her brows at Hongjoong, who laughed and nodded.

"So what were you gonna do on your first date?" Wooyoung and Jongho leaned in and asked Seohyun.

"San was the one in charge, ask him," she said.

"I was thinking we'd just walk aimlessly around the city..."

They both tsk-ed at San, muttering something about how he was an 'amateur' and would probably bore me to death.

"Hey, that's a nice idea actually. I don't mind."

"You're just saying that to be nice," Jongho said and Seohyun folded her arms.

"I don't say things to be nice, Choi Jongho."

Everyone hooted at that, having heard her, and Seohyun stared at her drink intensely, contemplating if she should 'accidentally' spill it on everyone.

"But she's right, actually," Yeosang said, "She doesn't say things to be nice. If she didn't like that idea, I'm sure she would have said to San with a hidden insult in between. I'm right, aren't I?"

"Thank you, Yeosang," Seohyun said, "I love you."

Yeosang saluted and San pouted, "Hey! You haven't even said that to me yet!"

Everyone was silent for a good minute before they burst out laughing, including Seohyun. San's pout went bigger and Seohyun poked him.

"Ayyy. I say that everyday, just not in words."

"OHHHH!" Everyone hooted and San actually smiled, trying to hide a blush but failing.

"How do you say it then?" Mingi asked, wiggling his brows, and Yunho made kissing sounds in the air, earning a smack from Wooyoung who was right beside him.

"Next time I encounter a dangerous ghost, I'm actually gonna befriend them," Seohyun said, smashing her now empty glass on the table as she glared at them, "I have a few ideas of how to make you all suffer."

Yunho snickered and Mingi immediately bowed, muttering praises about how Seohyun was the most kind girl he'd ever met. It was Seohyun's turn to smirk.

After they were done eating, everyone got up and they decided to go to the mall. It seemed like Hongjoong was bent on getting her good dresses, and he whispered to her that she should wear them on her dates, which actually made Seohyun flush for a good second.

"Hi," San said, holding her hand in his. He was walking with her now, both at the end while the others were ahead.

"Hey," Seohyun smiled, squeezing his hand subconsciously as she continued walking forward.

"Did you know purple is my favourite colour? I love this on you," San said, and Seohyun smiled.

"I did not. You'll have to thank my mom for this," Seohyun said, "She got me this for my birthday last year,"

"Oh, when's your birthday?"

"21st December."

"Right. So we have about two months. Is there something you want?"

"I wish my mom would be home actually," Seohyun said, "The last birthday I had with her was my 14th. I actually had fun then. Mom's friends had come, there's one that I'm close with. We had a banger then."

"That sounds fun," San smiled.

"It was," Seohyun smiled wistfully, "Now she's always busy during that time. So she just sends me a gift and a cake. And I spend my birthday alone."

San felt quite sad to hear that. "You won't be alone this year, I promise."

Seohyun looked at him. He had said that with such clarity that she believed him.

"I have a feeling that won't be the case," she suddenly said, and San almost stopped.

"What do you mean?"

"It's my gut. It's always right. I suppose it comes with the ghost thing. I just suddenly felt that wasn't going to be the case when you said that."

San put his arm around her, "You probably felt that because you've spent most of your birthdays alone. But now you have us, and there's always a chance your mom could come too. I can assure you, you won't be alone this year."

"Maybe," Seohyun let herself hope, pushing the feeling of dread back.

They reached the mall and Seohyun watched as Hongjoong and Wooyoung took the lead, discussing what would go well with her hair and skin colour, stuff that Seohyun didn't quite understand. She was too busy rejecting the ones Yunho, Mingi and Jongho were picking for her, making sure they got bright yellows and neon shades just to annoy her. They were having quite a laugh.

Seonghwa, Yeosang and San had disappeared to another shop it seemed. Wooyoung threw a top at her, ordering her to hold on herself so they could check.

"This has too many beads," Seohyun muttered.

"There are literally only 6 beads on it, stop being a child," Wooyoung said, snatching the top back from her and she pouted as they put it in the cart.

Hongjoong held another top, checking its size.

"Isn't that too short?" Seohyun asked.

"It's a crop top, Seohyun, of course it is short."

"That's basically the size of a bra! How am I supposed to wear it?!"

Hongjoong and Wooyoung tsk-ed at her. "It's not, it comes to your waist. Wear it with high waisted pants and a jacket if you can," Hongjoong threw it in the cart.

Seohyun threw her hands in the air as she looked back, the trio laughing at her misery. They were clearly enjoying. A thought struck Seohyun. She went to the three of them and asked if she should buy something for San.

"I guess he could use a new jacket," Yunho looked at Jongho and he nodded, "He's been using the same two jackets since forever."

"Help me pick," she said and dragged them to the men's section, and they picked a black denim jacket, putting it with her clothes so San wouldn't be suspicious.

After about 15 minutes, they were all done, and San, Yeosang and Seonghwa joined them as well.

"Where were you all?" Seohyun eyes them suspiciously.

"Just looking around," Seonghwa nodded, and San scratched his neck.

After they all got ice cream as refreshment, they decided to part ways, and Seohyun thanked Hongjoong and Wooyoung sincerely, saying she'd use them well.

"I'll get you both something too. Tell me what you want."

"You don't have to, just wear them, that'd be a gift," Wooyoung laughed.

"No, I can't! You guys put so much effort. I'll get you both something, just you wait," Seohyun promised.

San and her decided to walk back home, carrying the shopping bags with them.

"This is not how I had imagined our first date would go," San admitted.

"I had fun still," Seohyun smiled, "And anyway, the day is not over yet."

"It is! It's 7pm already!"

"Well, what do you say I take you on an adventure after we drop these at home?" Seohyun wiggled her eyebrows, saying, "Unless you have to go home."

"Well, no one's home today so..." San smiled, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. "Alright, I'll follow you."

Seohyun smiled, skipping as she walked, making San laugh out loud.

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

San and Seohyun reached home, dumping the several shopping bags in the living room. They decided to eat dinner and rest a bit, and Seohyun said she'd take him somewhere, but it had to be a surprise.

After they got fresh, they had ramyeon and Seohyun fished out a jacket from her wardrobe. It was gonna be chilly. She went to the living room, searching for San's jacket and went to San.

"Try this on," she said, and San got up from the sofa, trying the black jacket on. "Where we're going, it's gonna be a bit chilly."

"Wow, it fits perfectly," Seohyun stood back to check. "It's a gift."

"Really?" San looked down at the jacket. "Did you get this today?" Seohyun nodded. San smiled, thanking her with a hug.

They locked the house, grabbing only a bag with water bottle and chocolates. They took a taxi, a 30 minute drive to a hill. Seohyun told San she knew a shortcut to get to the top, and indeed, after a short hike, they reached the top.

"The view is amazing," San said, admiring how the full moon lit the night sky, the stars in the sky bright too. The city lights down seemed like stars too.

"A few months ago, a ghost teleported me here. He had died of an accident somewhere around here, and wanted help finding his sister, who had passed away with him. Jiwoo was with me, thankfully. It took us the whole day but we found her."

"Wow, I'm glad Jiwoo was with you," San said, and they both sat on the grass, facing the moon. "Imagine if you were alone and had to go back."

"Oh, I'm not sure if they even moved on. They said they wanted to spend some time together before they moved on, since they weren't sure what life ahead had for them. They might still be enjoying the ghost life."

"Really? Isn't that... dangerous?"

"They did promise. I said I'd come back after a year, and if they hadn't moved on by then, I'd personally exorcise them."

San laughed. "That's kind of you."

Seohyun winked at him. San was looking at the stars, and she took that time to admire his side-profile. He really was a work of art.

"Byeol," San said.

"What?"

"I'm naming our cat Byeol. Now that's an acceptable name, isn't it?"

Seohyun stared at him. "I mean, I was okay with Shiber too..."

"HEY!" San tackled her, tickling her everywhere and Seohyun laughed loudly, "Do you know how much time I spent thinking of a name for the cat!"

"Stop!" Seohyun laughed, and San stopped tickling to hear her out. "I love it. Byeol. Shiber. Whatever you wanna call her."

San shook his head at her. Seohyun realized he was still on top of her. San was staring at her, rather intensely.

San touched her hair. It was a habit of his now, playing with her hair. The grey in her hair was shining thanks to the moonlight. Her eyes shone just as brightly. Her mouth was slightly parted, and San ran his thumb across her lips.

"You're beautiful," he finally said.

Seohyun wanted to tell him that she was not, but she was too flustered to say anything. His broad shoulders blocked the moonlight, making his figure shine instead. He leaned in and kissed her softly, taking his dear time, making sure every peck was slow and good.

Seohyun's internal state was a mess at this time; her heart was beating too loudly, her stomach rolling too furiously, and her mind- oh it was an absolute mess. So she just let him kiss her senseless, her hands going through his hair and back to cup his face as they kissed.

San drew apart and Seohyun held onto his neck, making them sit, and San joined her forehead with his as they caught their breath. He rested her hands on her waist, and Seohyun gulped as she took his hands and put them on her waist under her shirt this time.

San inhaled sharply at the touch, looking at her for confirmation. He was always so patient with her, which she loved about him. Seohyun cupped his face and kissed him, more forcefully now. San followed along, his hands staying at her waist only, his thumb caressing her skin there. She kissed his neck, earning a satisfying moan from him.

"You're being naughty today," San whispered.

"You're being too good today," Seohyun retorted.

"Don't challenge me, Lee Seohyun," San warned, grinning.

"What you're gonna do, Choi San?"

San shook his head once, taking his hands away from her. Seohyun was going to protest but he took off his jacket and kissed Seohyun so hard that she found herself curving back and back until she was lying on the grass. He kissed her face, her neck, her collarbone, one hand on her waist, one roaming around, and Seohyun was a mess.

"What do you say? Do you regret this now?" San asked, smirking.

"Can't say I regret it," Seohyun answered, out of breath.

San laughed, kissing her one last time before lying down with her, holding her close.

Seohyun smiled. "This reminds me of the time when we first kissed," she said, "You were so sleepy."

"I was wide awake internally," San said, making her laugh a little. Seohyun traced his face with her fingers.

"I love you, San."

San's eyes went a little wide in surprise. Seohyun continued, "I know I haven't said it before. I don't know what I waited for. I'm sorry."

"Don't be," San brought her closer as if hugging her, "You didn't have to. I see it everyday."

Seohyun smiled, "Still. I have to say it out loud. I love you. I love you so much that it hurts. If I knew love would make me feel pain like this, this weird satisfying sort of pain in the heart, this ache, I would've run away. But I still love you."

"I feel the same," San said, sighing, "I feel scared for you, I'm afraid that you'll get hurt. You do such a dangerous job. I hope I could have been more help. I love you so much that I wish I'd have to do all this instead of you."

"You don't have to," Seohyun said, "This is enough. You, like this, is more than enough."

San couldn't help it; he kissed her again, and it felt like he could cry.

After a few moments, they finally got up. San wore his jacket, and said, "Oh, I almost forgot."

He took out a box from his pocket and handed it to Seohyun. Seohyun opened it to see a locket with a silver star, a single diamante shining in the middle of it.

"It's beautiful," Seohyun smiled, "Is that what you shopped for today?"

"Yep. Come here," San took the necklace from her and helped her wear it.

"Thank you. I'm never gonna take it off," Seohyun said and San laughed.

"Are you saying I should never take this jacket off too?"

"Well," Seohyun shrugged, "If you can manage."

They were laughing when Seohyun's smile suddenly fell from her face.

"There's someone behind me San," she whispered, not taking her eyes off him. "Don't look."

San almost looked away on impulse but Seohyun took his hand, grabbing his attention. "I said don't look. Smile like you were before, quick. Laugh."

San laughed awkwardly, making sure he was smiling. "Look from the corner of your eyes, can you see something?"

San did, and whispered, "I think I see something moving to your left, but it's a bit far I think."

"It's not good," Seohyun whispered, and San understood. "We're gonna have to make a run for it. On the count of three?"

San nodded, squeezing her hand.

"One. Two. Three."

San took her hand and made a dash, realizing that they couldn't go to the trail they'd come for since it was in the opposite direction. Seohyun took the lead, dragging San with her, trying to remember the other way. She looked back once and saw a sickly old woman almost caught up now. A little scream left her and they both ran, Seohyun stopping to grab a rock and aim at the woman. It narrowly missed her but distracted her long enough that they gained speed.

"Where's the other trail?" San shouted and Seohyun went through path after path, not bothering to reply. They were probably lost now.

Seohyun was about to give up and face the woman when a pair of hands grabbed her and she felt herself teleporting a few feet away from where they were, gaining more distance. She heard San gasp and looked to make sure he was okay, but hands grabbed her and she was running again.

"You!" Seohyun exclaimed. The boy and the girl- the brother and sister that had died here. She could not believe it.

"There's a cave here, we're teleporting again, grab on tight!"

Seohyun squeezed San's hand and shut her eyes. One moment she was running and the other she had jumped through time and space and was in the said cave.

"You call this a cave?" Seohyun asked. The boy ignored her, peeking out of the 'cave' as he covered the entrance with more tree branches.

San still held her hand, out of breath, taking out the bottles from Seohyun's bag and handing one to her while he drank some too.

"She lost us," The boy looked back and smiled proudly, high fiving his sister.

The boy must have been 16- he was a tall, lean kid. His short hair were spiky and his eyes were the same as his sister's- who must have been a year older. She looked at Seohyun and said, "Didn't expect to meet you like this, Seohyun."

Seohyun wiped her mouth. "Hi, Gayoung." She looked at the boy then, "Thanks, Youngjae."

"We owed you one," he said, motioning them to sit and take a breather. "We've been living here, so we kind of knew about the woman. She's an old soul, that one. I don't think you can do anything about her, best if you avoid her."

"Well, she should avoid me! Next time I'm gonna kill her-"

"I see you haven't changed," Gayoung grinned. "Who's that with you? And why is he not freaking out?"

"He's my boyfriend," Seohyun said, and Gayoung and Youngjae ooh-ed. "He knows. There was some accident, so he can see ghosts now too. Can't touch them."

"Interesting," Youngjae scanned San. "I didn't know we could teleport others too."

"Only because I was holding him. I guess because it was the two of you, it didn't require me to properly hold him. Remember Jiwoo? She tried it once. Took me to the ghost realm accidentally, with him!"

"With him!" Gayoung gasped, "Is that why he can...?"

"Yes!" Seohyun answered, "I almost died making that trip."

San elbowed Seohyun. "You call that dying?"

"Shut up. So you live here still?"

"Yes, we'll actually move on before the year completes," Youngjae said, "We're just waiting for our parent's wedding anniversary. We used to celebrate it, so we just wanna see them happy before we move on."

"Ah, that's good."

"Where's Jiwoo anyway?" Gayoung asked.

"She moved on," Seohyun sighed.

"So she finally remembered? Good for her!" Youngjae said and they nodded.

After catching up a few minutes, they decided it was safe to go back. Seohyun thanked them earnestly, saying she owed them one more now because this was too big a favour. They just dismissed it, telling her to stay safe. They guided them to another shortcut and soon the two of them were on the way home.

They stopped by at Seohyun's first, and San went inside with her for a moment, hugging her, telling her she was so brave for keeping her calm in that situation, telling her he was proud. With a kiss to her forehead, he left for home.

Seohyun washed up and fell on her bed, beyond exhausted. She recalled the day in her mind; it was a day well spent, if you ignored the last part. She smiled as she played the moments in her head; San was such a sweetheart today. She was playing with her necklace as she fell asleep.

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

The few days that followed their rather adventurous first date were as normal as they could get, keeping in mind the fact that it was Seohyun's life in question. She had a tremendous amount of school work to catch up to, and several ghosts to help move on.

Having friends actually helped, Seohyun realized one day as she was doing her homework. She was an average student; she'd do great if she tried, and if she didn't... well. So they'd help her with the subjects they were good at, they'd be her personal motivators, and she'd try to return the favours as well as she could.

She'd been thinking about how she could return the long due favour to Hongjoong and Wooyoung. They'd help her update her wardrobe, and the feedbacks she'd gotten were amazing. She supposed San was a softie and would compliment her even if she was in her worst hoodie, but when critics like Yeosang complimented her, she'd feel glad. She didn't really care about how she looked, but it felt good to dress up once in a while. Special occasions only.

Seohyun sighed as she shut her notebook close and got up, stretching. She found herself going to the music room. There were no drums anymore to relieve her of her stress, but she supposed she could do with something else. The violin reminded her of San as she picked it up, and she kind of missed him, so she put that down. She went to the piano, and inhaled. She'd be playing it for the first time now, after Joon Hyuk.

She tested the keys; it sounded out of tune. But she let her fingers naturally roll over them, found herself playing a familiar tune, the one Joon Hyuk had taught her. She smiled as she played. It had truly been a while.

After she was done, she nodded as she figured out what she'd get Hongjoong and Wooyoung. Something they really needed.

-----------

"You're the best!" Wooyoung tackled Seohyun in a tight hug, making Seohyun yell as she tried to push him away.

"How did you come up with this idea?" Hongjoong asked as he admired the speakers in front of him.

"I noticed you could use speakers here without disturbing anyone. And with how loud you all are, you definitely needed it."

Seonghwa connected the speakers to his phone, blasting full volume as he checked them, his mouth turning into an O as he nodded in admiration. "They must have cost you quite a bit?"

"Oh, it's okay. Let's forget about that part," Seohyun waved him off, and Yunho ruffled her hair.

Mingi passed her a juice box and she sipped on it, checking the time. "I have to go now. Mom's coming home tonight."

"Do you want me to walk you home?" San asked.

"Oh, don't bother, enjoy these speakers," Seohyun said, giving him a fist bump as she left. She hummed along as she walked, but she had only taken one turn when she thought she saw something out of the corner of her eye.

Another ghost? She had just dealt with one right after school, before joining the boys in the warehouse.

Something flashed right behind her and she whipped to her left, stumbling. She checked left and right but it seemed the ghost had disappeared. But something about its rotting scent was familiar-

Seohyun's breath left her as she was pushed, and she turned just in time so she'd hit the wall with the side of her body instead of face first. She winced in pain, pushing the hair out of her eyes. There was no one there.

But she didn't have to check who it was. The scent had been enough for her.

Seohyun contemplated running home or back to the warehouse. Ghosts couldn't enter property without the owner or mediator's permission, and since the warehouse was the closest, she decided she'd make a run for it.

She smelt it as she run, dodging one attack but getting scratched on the back near her shoulder with something sharp- she assumed it was nails. Seohyun ran faster; glad for all the running she'd done as a kid, wishing a good soul would appear and help her. But it was only her- a useless mediator with the power to only see and touch the ghosts, against a vengeful spirit.

Seohyun turned and she was in front of the warehouse. She could hear the music blast and she ran even faster if she could, until she came within what she assumed was the boundary of the property. She turned and indeed, she saw the woman, this time in the clear of the day. She wasn't sure if she could even call it a woman at this point; it was a tangle of overgrown hair, pale skin and dark eyes with purple lips. And long, long nails.

Seohyun shook her head as it disappeared and she stood in the middle of the road, contemplating once again if she should go home and risk encountering them again, or going to the warehouse, and encountering THEM.

She threw her hands in the air in frustration and went inside the warehouse.

"Oh, she's back-" Jongho paused mid-sentence as he saw the disheveled figure of Seohyun, with a bruise on her cheekbone.

Seohyun walked to them, looking at San whose eyes were wide. "It's her," she said, "the one from that hill."

San came to her, inspecting her face; the bruise was light, thankfully. "Are you hurt somewhere else?"

"On my back, I think," Seohyun turned her neck to see and indeed, her shirt was torn where those nails had scratched her. San took her to the sofa and Seonghwa brought a first aid kit, Seohyun eyeing it warily. "I should ask why you have a first aid kit."

"For a day like this, I suppose," Hongjoong said, handing her a glass of water. Seohyun looked at him once as she drank.

"How did she find you?" San asked, taking her hand and caressing it.

"It took her a while to find me, it's been more than two weeks."

"What happened?" Hongjoong asked and Seohyun explained, everyone sitting around her to hear her story.

"Why do ghosts start to look like that?" Yeosang asked.

"I don't exactly know, but time does that to them, I think."

"Don't they look scary?" Wooyoung asked.

"They look scary, but I think the fact that they were human once makes it less scarier to me?" Seohyun shrugged. She grabbed the ointment, applying it to the wound on her face. Then she looked at Seonghwa. "Is the wound on my back bad?"

Seonghwa peeked at what he could see from the torn part of her shirt, there were long cuts. "I think you should get them treated."

"Can you do something about it right now? I'll get them treated later," Seohyun said, biting her lip. Seonghwa nodded. He inspected her state, then said in a low voice, "You'll have to take off your shirt."

Seohyun groaned. At times like this, she really did miss Jiwoo.

"Or we can cut your shirt, since it's already torn," Seonghwa suggested, looking at her with a sad look in his eyes.

"I'll take it off," Seohyun said, "Let's not be awkward about this, okay? Which one of you is the best at first aid?"

"Seonghwa definitely," Mingi said.

"Should I do it?" San asked.

"You're the worst at it," Wooyoung muttered, making Seohyun scoff.

"It's just when it's someone I'm close to! I can't bear it!"

The two of them started to argue, and Seohyun decided to stop them. "I'd like you all to disappear to a corner while Seonghwa does his job. Give me some privacy. And San, you can stay if you want to."

The rest of the boys rushed away, and Seohyun bit her lip. "Not how you thought you'd see me without a shirt for the first time, eh San?"

Seonghwa went into a fit of coughs while San gaped at her statement, finally giving in after a few seconds and laughing, shaking his head. "You really pick the worst time for jokes."

"Alright, here goes," Seohyun turned her back to them and took off her shirt, San helping her hold her hair. She was left in a black bra. She wasn't flustered; not when the exposed wound left her skin stinging, and she sucked in her breath.

San helped her sit on the floor and she brought her arms to her chest, her hair covering the rest of her as Seonghwa carefully applied ointment on the three parallel scratches that ran from her shoulder all the way to the the middle of her back.

"She got you bad, Seohyun," San said worriedly, "what if she comes here?"

"She can't," Seohyun answered, "Can't enter property without owner or my permission."

"That's useful," Seonghwa muttered.

"That's actually handy, Seonghwa," Seohyun had noticed the sarcasm in his voice; she supposed he was angry at the whole situation. "I'm glad I was near when it happened." She rested her head on her knees, San watching Seonghwa apply bandages now, so careful with it. He was definitely being extra careful.

San went to get an extra shirt they had around for Seohyun, and Seonghwa finished up. Seohyun peeked at the bandages, impressed.

"Thanks, Seonghwa."

"Don't mention it," Seonghwa put the stuff back in the kit, "I wish you'd be more careful in the future."

"I can't help it, Seonghwa, believe me, I'm the most careful now," Seohyun said and Seonghwa locked his eyes with her.

"I just don't want to see you hurt, Seohyun-ah. It pains me."

"I know," Seohyun sighed, "I understand."

Seonghwa hesitated then patted her head. "I'm sure you did well back then," he smiled warmly.

"Finally. Thanks again," Seohyun laughed, and San was back. Seohyun took the shirt from him and wore it, standing up. "I'll take a taxi now."

"You sure you don't want me to come with you?" San asked.

"Oh no, it's okay now. She can't follow me in a taxi."

"Okay, at least let me walk you out."

Seohyun said thanks and bye to them all, and they told her to be careful. San and her walked out of the warehouse, and San grabbed her hand, bringing her in for a hug. Seohyun hugged him back, her arms on his back, smiling.

"Were you scared back then?" San asked.

"A little," Seohyun admitted, "Just glad I was near."

San broke the hug, putting her hair behind her ears, touching her cheek below the bruise. "Does it hurt?"

"This? Nope. The one in the back, yes, a little."

"Do get proper treatment," San said, looking at her worriedly.

"I will," Seohyun laughed, "Don't worry too much?"

"How can I not?" San shook his head, leaning forward to kiss her. "Your taxi's here."

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

Seohyun reached home, cleaning the mess around the house, until she heard the sound of the door opening. Her mother was home.

Seohyun said hello and smiled at her. She looked nothing like her mom; she was tall, had pointy features and narrow eyes, and she looked sharp and intelligent. Her dark hair reached her shoulders. She put her handbag on the table and came to gave her a hug.

"How have you been?"

"Just the usual," Seohyun said, "What about you?"

"Ugh, I've been so busy," she said, collapsing on the sofa. "What do we have for dinner?"

"I'll set the table," Seohyun said. She had prepared her favourite dishes with the help of their previous housemaid, who she was still on good terms with. The old woman would drop by every once in a while, and she'd exchange her kimchi and some traditional dishes for Seohyun's pastas and desserts that she loved.

The mother and daughter caught up on studies and work as they ate. She told Seohyun she would have a busy time in the following month, but she'd try to come for her birthday, or else it was gonna be Christmas.

"How's the ghost business?" Her mother asked, drinking water.

"Was going well, until today I encountered an evil one," Seohyun said, "You'd have to help me with a wound I got on my back."

Her mother stared at her. "Are you alright?"

"Oh I am," Seohyun nodded, "I'll deal with her, I was just caught off-guard. She got me for a second."

"I hope you do," her mother said, "Tell me if you need help."

Seohyun smirked at her, "Wrong thing to say."

Her mother laughed, "Yeah, you probably know way more people than I do. Come on, let me have a look."

Seohyun showed her, and her mother winced. She helped change her bandages and gave her a doctor's information so she could visit and get treated, make up a story about how it was a stray dog or something. Seohyun thanked her, and after chatting a while, she left her to sleep.

"When will you return to work?" Seohyun asked.

"Tomorrow evening. I'll see you off for school in the morning. We'll see each other next month then."

"Oh, okay. Goodnight," Seohyun said, coming to her room and lying on her bed, staring at the ceiling. She wished she had stayed longer. But it was okay.

This was enough.

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

A week had passed without further incidents. Seohyun was careful; she'd take taxi if she could, or she'd keep the sibling duo with her. She called them in, saying she'd owe them one if they could teleport her when needed. So the duo happily stick with her, saying they were bored of living in the hills and would like to visit a school too.

The boys had become friendly with the duo; they'd either communicate through San (who had given up now; he was quite tired of being their voice) or through the old-fashioned way: notebooks. They'd pretend to be studying in class when in fact they'd be having a conversation with the ghosts.

"I have a question," Yeosang said to Seohyun in the middle of class. Seohyun, who had been staring at Mingi and Gayoung conversing, looked at Yeosang.

"How would you get rid of old ghosts like the one you encountered?"

"Good question," Seohyun said, "There are a few options. I could try to talk sense into them. If that doesn't work, I get help from the good ghosts and threaten them. Like, every ghost had some sort of faith, right? Usually works if you use their god against them."

"But what if they have no faith anymore?"

"Goodnight, then, I guess," Seohyun said and Yeosang gasped. "You take help from actual exorcists then too. I once did. Got quite rough, but it works."

"Sounds dangerous," he muttered.

"Kind of," Seohyun agreed.

Seohyun was walking home after school with her new ghost friends when she sensed something amiss. "Just when I thought it was over."

Gayoung and Youngjae covered her back and front defensively. The woman appeared out of nowhere, stopping when she saw the ghosts.

"Well, well," she said, and Seohyun winced. Her voice sounded creepy. "What do we have here?"

"What do you want?" Seohyun asked.

"Death of you," the woman laughed, "Don't try to talk me out of it. You can't."

"What good is that gonna do to you?" Seohyun asked, genuinely curious.

The woman laughed again, this time sarcastically. "Don't tell me you didn't know? When a mediator dies, there is a short time period during which there is no other mediator in the world. That's when ghosts can do whatever they want; trespass, interact with humans, and much more."

"How is that true? I mean, if it were really true, more people would be trying to kill me, won't they?"

"Oh dear," the woman smiled this time, all knowingly, which sent chills throughout her body, "That's why it's a secret, isn't it?"

Gayoung and Youngjae shared looks. If it was true, they could interact with their parents, which was all they wanted. But they wouldn't harm Seohyun for that. Not after all she had done for them.

"I'll be back, girl," the woman's voice was sure, "When you least expect it. And I'll make sure I hear you screaming before you die."

The three of them watched as she gave her a long final look before she disappeared. They were quite for a few seconds and Seohyun caught her breath. "Don't tell me you both want to kill me now too."

"Oh, we wouldn't," Gayoung said, "We really wouldn't."

"You sound very assuring, noona," Youngjae said sarcastically, earning a tsk as he looked at Seohyun. "Let's get you home. We'll look for someone else who can get rid of that old bitch."

Seohyun nodded and they walked home, the duo arguing while Seohyun just walked blankly. She couldn't get the look the ghost had given out of her head. She sounded so sure. As if she had something already planned for her.

Seohyun sat in front of the TV for hours, her mind blank. All she could think was how her gut had felt when she'd said that. As if that was something that was bound to happen. Was she really gonna die?

Seohyun had never been too afraid of dying; not like an average person. For her, it was a life full of danger. She had welcomed and played with aspect of death. But her life had changed drastically over the past months. She had found people to live for. And that meant she was more scared this time.

Her phone buzzed and she read the text. It was from San asking if she wanted him to come over. Seohyun bit her lips in thought. Then she texted 'come over with chocolate ice cream please'.

And San did so. They sat on the sofa, watching TV and eating ice cream as they talked about this and that. Seohyun somehow found it very easy to talk to him, and so did San. He told her all about how he used to live in the countryside when he was little (hence the slight accent), he had mostly grown up with his grandparents because his parents were busy people.

"Don't you miss your parents when they're away?" Seohyun asked. Her ice cream was finished.

"I do, of course. Don't you?"

"I miss my mom sometimes," Seohyun admitted. "She's not as bad as you all think."

San gave her a pointed look and she threw a pillow at him, which he caught. "Come on, you have to admit. She talks to me. She let's me do normal stuff. She doesn't think I'm crazy. And she remembers my birthday every year. That's more than I can ask for."

"Don't you wish she did more?"

"I used to, but then I just accepted it. It's just the way it is."

San looked at her and spread his arms for her. She just threw another pillow at him, rolling her eyes. "I'm serious."

"Okay, okay. What about the ghost?"

"Well," Seohyun sighed and told him what had happened. San listened intently.

"Is there something we can do about it?" he asked.

"I'll go to that exorcist I know, but San," Seohyun turned to face him, "Something's different this time. I can't shake the feeling that something bad is gonna happen."

"It's probably just you overthinking?"

"No, it's different this time," Seohyun sounded sure, and San was actually surprised, "Something is gonna happen and it's gonna be bad. God, I want to cry."

San watched as she put her head in her hands, sighing. She heard San scoot over and she scooted away. "If you hug me now, I'm afraid I'll really cry."

"It's okay to cry, Seohyun, come here," San grabbed her arm and brought her in for a hug, and Seohyun let herself cry. It had been so long since she'd last cry.

"I'm sorry," Seohyun said, sniffing, "I miss Jiwoo a lot, if she was here, she would have handled this so well. I can't help but feel scared for you."

"Do you think something's gonna happen to me?" San asked as he patted her head.

"No. I don't know. I don't know and it's making me so frustrated," Seohyun said and cried harder. San only patted her back, muttering comforting words.

Seohyun drew back and wiped her face. "Sorry for crying on you."

"Anytime," San laughed. "I can understand that you're scared Seohyun, tell me what I can do for you."

"Just- stay with me. That's enough."

San nodded, taking her hand. "Do you want me to play something for you?"

Seohyun raised her brow, "Can you?"

"I can play the piano a little bit, unless you want me to play the violin and scare the dead away."

Seohyun laughed, "Let's go."

They went to the room, and San showed her what he'd learnt from Hongjoong of the piano. Seohyun appreciated the gesture, and on his insistence, she played the violin for him again, and he watched her adoringly.

When she was done, she put the violin down. "I came here a few days ago. I wanted to play the violin but I couldn't because it reminded me of you and I missed you. I played today. It seems like now I only play for you."

Seohyun was packing the violin when San hugged her from the back, his arms around her waist as he rocked them back and forth. Seohyun smiled. He was such a romantic.

"I like that," he whispered in her ear, making her laugh because it tickled. He nibbled on her ear, making her laugh.

"It's like the music room does something to you, San, you become such a romantic."

"I can assure you I'm the same anywhere else too," he said, still hugging her.

Seohyun looked at the clock. It was already 10 pm and they had no school tomorrow. She broke the hug and looked at him, his hands on her waist now.

"I know it's too much to ask, San, and I need you to give an honest answer, okay? I won't mind. But, can you... stay here tonight?" Seohyun almost whispered, tears welling up in her eyes again. "I'm just- I can't be alone tonight. I feel it. Something's gonna happen."

San touched her face, nodding. "Of course. If you want me to. I'll leave early in the morning."

Seohyun sighed in relief, a tear escaping her eye, "Thank you, San. Thank you."

San wiped the tear from her face. He felt scared about how she was feeling too. It was so unusual. Seohyun was always so strong, and she felt so... human. He couldn't leave her like this. He bent down and kissed her lips slowly, her arms going around his neck and her hands in his hair, clearly glad for the distraction.

She broke apart and took his hand, taking him to her bedroom, only the dim lamp on. She pushed him on the bed, surprising him, as she shut the door and kicked off her shoes, climbing on the bed and sitting on his lap. His arms were holding him from lying down and Seohyun went to cup his face and kiss him, so deeply as if she was saying her thanks through this. San's stomach turned, his heart beating wildly and he took the chance, taking one arm to grab her, but fell flat on the bed.

Seohyun was now on top of him. She stared at him for the longest time, and it made San feel so many different things. He saw the necklace he had given her dangling off her neck, and his hand went to touch it as a smile made its way on his face.

Seohyun smiled too then gave him soft pecks on his lips, both of them smiling through it. She was taking her sweet time and San had enough. He flipped her down, now on top of her, making her gasp in surprise as he smirked. But his smirked wiped off as she leaned forward and took his shirt off, running her hands through his toned body.

"Damn, San, I didn't know you worked out," Seohyun smirked.

San only smiled as he kissed her, loving the feeling of her hands all over him. His hands went to her waist and she broke apart for a second, motioning him to unbutton her shirt. San looked at her to make sure it was okay and she nodded, rolling her eyes but smiling.

"Is your wound okay now?" San asked as he unbuttoned her shirt.

"Probably left a scar," Seohyun muttered and he made her sit so he could check.

She was right. 3 parallel scratches had left their scar. It would take time to fade. "You reminded me of that ghost again, San. Distract me."

San kissed her bare shoulder, making her gasp, and kissed and nibbled on her neck, playing with her necklace. Seohyun moaned and felt San smile. She slapped his shoulder, making him laugh. "You asked for it," he said.

"I'm gonna make you moan so loud, Choi San-"

"Sshh," he said, kissing her passionately. Seohyun took that chance to bite on his lower lip while her hands gripped his waist now, and that earned her a moan. It was her turn to smile. San kissed her some more, before lying down with her, pulling the covers over them.

"It's late," he said, bringing her closer, "Sleep now."

"I don't wanna..." Seohyun said, putting her arm around him and kissed his neck, earning a sigh.

"I'm not gonna be able to stop if you keep doing that," San sighed. Seohyun melted at his words.

"Glad to know that," she whispered, but just hugged him, kissing his shoulder innocently now.

"I love you, San. You know that, right?"

"I know," he whispered back.

"I should tell you that everyday. Hell, I should have told you that everyday. I'm sorry."

"Seohyun," San made her face him, "You don't have to. I know that. You don't even have to say it out loud."

"Still," Seohyun said, "I should have told you that everyday."

San stared at her. He kissed her forehead and hugged her. "I love you too. And you know that right? I say it everyday, goofily, jokingly, or sometimes serious. But you still know it, even when I say it as a joke. That's because you know, just like I do."

Seohyun nodded. She buried her face in his chest, going under the covers, his arms securely around him.

"Goodnight, love." San whispered.

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chidoroki · 3 years

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TPN - “Dreams Come True”

What better way to cheer up the TPN fandom after the second season’s final episode than with the special exhibition chapter finally being fully translated. I caught glimpses of a few pages here and there over the past couple months but seeing all the children live happily together in the human world in their own little village that they made close to Emma and Alex warms my heart. Of course I would’ve loved if we got to see more of the GP Resistance (because the anime denied us of them) but following the GF kids around the world as they experience their dreams is fair enough. We started the series alongside them so might as well finish strong with them too. I really loved seeing everyone grow up but no matter how old they get or how much time passes, I’ll probably never get used to seeing Emma without her iconic “63194.” It’s a bittersweet feeling for me, but her smiles bring me so much joy and I’m beyond happy that she accepted everyone into her life as they accepted her without her memories.

I haven’t a clue on how much time passed since everyone found Emma in ch181 to now, but seeing her call out everyone’s names is a little detail that I love so much considering she had no idea who anyone was at first. Trying to remember 60+ names doesn’t seem like an easy task to me. No doubt I was just as shocked as our girl upon learning these mere children bought a goddamn plane! We learn in a couple pages that it’s because of Norman’s company that they can afford it, but still, he’s like 15 or 16 now? He’s still a child! And I’m impressed! Not only at him, but that Oliver and Violet became pilots as well! It’s especially cute when you remember that Lucas gave Oliver a little toy plane during their time at Goldy Pond.

Speaking of GP, is it just me or does Emma’s current outfit resemble her GP one just a little bit? Sure we have no idea what color scheme this one has but come on, the short jacket, the dark shirt and jeans.. just imagine it! Jemima, Yvette, Alicia and Mark remade Gillian’s original GP outfit sometime before the Grace Field Raid arc (ch137 extra page) so I don’t doubt they could’ve done the same for Emma. Of course that’s just me being completely hopeful and missing the Goldy Pond arc to death but yeah! I’m also so happy to see Chris up and moving again! Seeing him wake up briefly in ch181 was nice but this is so much better. I imagine he and Emma have a lot to catch up on in terms of stories, with him being unconscious since ch105 and Emma not remembering anything.

But here we go, the original 15 escapees plus Norman, Phil, Sherry, I believe I saw Carol somewhere and a couple other random kiddos ready to see the entire world. They get to accomplish so much.. and in a single day too I believe? At least that’s what Phil and Alicia say a bit later about everyone’s wishes, but aahh what a lucky bunch. Hell, I’ll say we’re lucky readers too to be able to see such a great story. Can’t thank Shirai and Demizu enough y’all. I wish we got to see more of Alex though. He’s such a kind soul but I’m sure he’ll be just fine staying behind with everyone else.

This entire page where we learn about Norman as a CEO is gold. I still can’t believe this child successfully built up an entire multipurpose company not only to help their search for Emma but also because he didn’t want to live off the Ratri clan. I wish I knew about this last week when writing out Norman’s birthday post because hell yeah this deserves some praise! AND he managed to graduate school as well during all that! Well, by skipping grades which totally makes sense. I mean, if he managed to pass all the Grace Field and Lambda tests effortlessly I’m sure normal human world school was a piece of cake for him. Holy shit dude, keep on impressing me why don’t ya. Not only him but Nigel and Sonya too! I’m not surprised that Vincent helped out but I’m glad those two got a tiny moment to shine as well! Ray is another obvious choice when it comes to helping Norman, as they’re best friends and he’s always been good with machines.. but boy, I can’t take you seriously when you’re just sitting there unamused and eating chips! Hahah I love him so much! And the fact he replies to Norman’s idea with just a simple “kay” is an eternal mood.

Okay boys aside, can we talk about our fabulous girls now? Because oh my god, they’re so darn beautiful! They’re more fashionable than I’ll ever be and it’s so cute how they drag Emma along to take advantage of the 3-for-1 deal. But our girl pulls off that sporty look so well! (r.i.p. goldy pond outfit ver2.0). I’m not at all surprised that Nat wanted to go see the opera. That's perfect for him and I’d like to think the anime did something similar with that one shot we see of him in the human world. We don’t see him in a theater like this but to me it looks like he’s on the streets of Broadway? At least that’s the vibe I get from it. I’m sure there was something music related on one of those signs.

I can’t get over how adorable all the children look and how happy they are fulfilling their wishes, even if some of them aren’t as extravagant as others. Like eating a fluffy pancake and a ton of ice cream? We can do that whenever we want. But for these kids, it means everything and they absolutely deserve to experience such simple joys like that after all the harsh nonsense they’ve been through. I also love how Ray continues to be such a great older brother by still looking out for them too. The fact he remains completely unfazed by the haunted house is perfect. This boy has been haunted by his own nightmares and demons his entire life, there’s no way a couple of lousy jump scares are gonna spook him. Though I do find it funny that Alicia and Rossi still manage to get scared while Yvette is having the time of her life. I can’t help but laugh at Thoma’s “Shirai face” as well.

I find it interesting that out of all the different kinds of exhibits they could’ve shown us while Rossi visits a museum, they give us dinosaurs.. like that seems so silly to me. Y’all have seen several demons in your young lives already and yet dinosaurs manage to amaze you too? God these kids are precious. And then our boy Phil finally gets to see and ride a train! Just look how happy he is! The poor kid can’t even sit still he’s so darn excited and I can’t help but smile with him! Thankfully the anime showed us this too.

We eventually get to Ray’s wish and guys.. oh my fucking god. Tell me that this is not the absolute best and prettiest smile we get to see from him!! It honestly leaves me speechless okay? Ray never imagined he would ever get to see the outside world, let alone live past the age of 12, and yet here he is, seeing such a beautiful sight such as this, right in front of him instead of from inside a book. You can’t believe how happy and proud of him I am right now. Did you see how ecstatic I was when the anime kept Isabella alive? Multiply that feeling by ten and there ya go. That’s my level of happiness upon seeing my favorite boy smile like THAT! AAHHH!! That panel is gonna live rent free in my head until the end of time. I can’t get over how damn perfect it is. His smile is so pure and how he looks like he’s in complete awe is beautiful. He’s about to burst into tears and I swear I might do the same because I’m making myself emotional over this fantastic boy. Someone hold me.

No seriously, hold me because we’re about to get into some angst as we move onto to Emma’s wish. We all know that ever since 2039 her one dream was to ride a giraffe once they got outside, so here we are, about ten years later and the animals in question are within reach. Our girl should be totally excited, right? Ha, not quite.

That wish was something the old Emma wanted, but since demon god had to be such a bastard, this Emma doesn’t know what to think, let alone what to even feel. She hasn’t experienced the same hardships as her family. She hasn’t gone through hell and back while holding onto that one wish that would make all the suffering worth it. The amount of joy everyone else felt upon living out their dreams, she wonders if she would be able to feel it too.

They brought her here to make her happy, but is this truly want she wants as well? This is old Emma’s wish after all. What about her and what she wants? Could this wish make her just as happy as her old self? She knows her family is only trying to help, but seeing her doubt herself does a number on my heart. Even without her memories, she’s still the same Emma deep down, as she doesn’t want to disappoint her family. She spends so much time worrying about living up to her family’s expectations, to try and be that Emma they all love so dearly.

Little does she know that she acts the exact same as usual, almost as if nothing has changed when she finally expresses how much she wants to ride a giraffe. And that’s great considering when they first arrived at the giraffes, no on had even mentioned riding them. She came across that feeling all on her own and everyone else can’t help but laugh and feel relieved. Her mind may have forgotten but her heart remembers everything. There is no “old Emma” and “new Emma” to her family, just “Emma” and words can’t express how wholesome that is because they love her regardless. All that matters to them is Emma’s happiness because if anyone deserves to feel and experience that, it’s her.

I just made myself tear up, damn it. I started this series with season one okay? I heard about this precious girl’s dream within the first minute of the first episode and here I am, a little bit over two years later, finally reading about it coming true and seeing that bright as hell smile on her face. Do you know how amazing it is to come full circle like that? My heart feels so full right now. I’m beyond proud of her and love her to death. Say what you want but I believe this to be the true manga ending in my eyes.

(damn this series for always getting me emotional)

#the promised neverland #tpn manga #tpn norman #tpn ray #tpn emma #norman #ray #emma #chidoroki used chatter

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etherrealoblivion · 4 years

Text

A Broken System

MASTERLIST

Summary: At her birthday celebration, Y/N is out on the town enjoying herself when she runs into a cute FBI agent who she’d love to take home and do terrible things to. Normally, someone meeting an FBI agent at a bar wouldn’t be that big of a deal. There’s just one, miniscule, microscopic, meager, problem... Y/N is only twenty.

tags: Large Age Difference, power imbalance, choking, Dom/sub, safe sex, vaginal penetration, dirty talk, cliffhanger.

A/N: this just made so much more sense in third person. i tried replacing it with second person, but trust me it did not work. hope you enjoy! gif by @toyboxboy

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Female!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Words: 5,930

Spencer Reid never really thought he was attractive.

Probably had something to do with his perpetually messy hair, gangly stature, and his tendency to ramble on and on and on and. . .

Yeah. Like that.

Another factor definitely was the fact that he was in his 30’s and had never really had a stable relationship. Sure, he’d had relationships with a few women. Well, two women. The first being a girl he’d met in college with whom he had a brief fling. Spencer didn’t really count it as a stable relationship due to the fact they barely even kissed. And the other woman, the only woman he’d ever really loved, died tragically several years ago.

Maeve.

Maeve was the real reason Spencer didn’t like going to bars with Morgan or being set up on dates by Penelope. She was the reason that Spencer wasn’t interested in anyone anymore. Who could possibly compare to Maeve?

Damn it. That was the other reason he wasn’t looking to date. He knew how the mind worked and there was no doubt that if any new person came into his life, she’d be unconsciously compared to Maeve. He couldn’t put anyone through that.

So, Spencer Reid stayed single. Which, for him, was relatively easy. Whenever someone started to get a little too close with him, he’d blabber and spout facts until they ran off. Morgan would ask what happened and Reid would just put on a slight frown, mumbling how she had to go.

The charade got more effortless the more they went out. Morgan, almost always going home on the arm of some woman and Spencer content to get a cab back to his own place, have a quick efficient orgasm, and fall asleep.

He had a system. And no one was going to break it.

Y/N hated the summertime.

Well, she didn’t usually. Anywhere else on the planet it would be mildly enjoyable. The beach, ice cream, staying up all night. All that fun crap. In Washington D.C, however, summer was hell.

But! When one was accepted into Georgetown and their parents offered to pay FULL tuition plus housing, how can one say no?

Seriously, she wanted to know.

After two whole years in this armpit of a town, Y/N had finally gotten used to the sweltering heat that plagued the city during the summer. Whatever. She just stayed in the comfortable A.C. all day anyway.

But, the summer before her third year was almost over, and the only thing she could think about now was graduating with a major in Journalism. She didn’t really like most of the courses, but it’s what she needed to do to become a full-time editor.

Living in a rent-free apartment was heaven. No roommates meant no worrying about, well, anything. The only problem was, her parents could hold it over her head every time they called. Which is why she never answered their calls.

Today, however, answering was unavoidable.

Because not only was it the day before her first class, today was her twentieth birthday.

Y/N was in the middle of getting dressed to go out with her friends when her phone vibrated from the kitchen table.

“Hello?”

She tried so hard to suppress the cringe at her mom’s voice.

“Sweetie! How are you? Are you eating?”

“Yes, mom.”

Oh boy. Strong start, mom.

“You look skinny in the pictures on Facebook!”

Yeah, she was definitely going to be late.

Surprisingly, it only took five minutes to push her mom off the phone, insisting that her friends were on their way and she had to keep getting ready.

A sharp rap on the door saved her.

“Come on!! It’s almost ten!” Y/N’s friend, Mina, said, annoyed. “All the old people leave the bars at ten and if we don’t get there soon, the bouncers won’t let us in!”

Y/N didn’t really understand the logic there. Hot girls always got into bars. Especially late at night. How were there not more crimes committed in clubs? Maybe she’d find out in her first class tomorrow.

“Hey!” Mina snapped her out of it, “Come on! Let’s go.”

They arrived outside a dinky little club a few minutes later. It had taken Y/N a while to get accustomed to how close everything was together in this town. Before college, she had been a small-town girl. Promise ring and everything. That, uh. That didn’t last long.

Before they got in line, Mina took a long satin sash out of her purse and secured it across Y/N’s torso.

“What the hell’s this?”

The sash was white with large pink flowy letters that poignantly spelled out: Birthday Bitch.

“It’s a sash.”

Three of Mina’s friends strode up, quickly exchanging hugs and wishing Y/N a happy birthday.

“I see that it’s a sash, but why am I wearing it?”

Mina confidently strode up to the bouncer, Y/N at her side, fake ID at the ready. Technically, it was the right birthdate, the year was just a little off.

“Go through. Happy Birthday,” the guy said, barely sparing the ID a glance, more focused on the huge sash. It made sense. She didn’t look her age. No one would think she was only in college by taking a glance at her.

“Oh, thank you.”

“Look,” Mina pulled her aside just before they entered, “this makes every single guy in there want to buy you a drink. So, go enjoy a free Shirley Temple, on me.”

Y/N scoffed and entered the club, immediately overwhelmed by the booming of the music.

Jesus Christ. How did people not die from this? It felt like her heart was beating out of her chest.

Sure, she’d been in a bar before. But not a real, proper club. She was pretty sure she saw some people wearing neon. Oh my god, there was a DJ.

Suppressing a laugh, she headed to the bar. At least there was a bar. There were so many people gathered around though that she couldn’t get much access to the one bartender on staff.

Luckily, he spotted her sash that seemed to shine under the blacklights.

“Hey, make some room for the birthday girl!”

And the crowd parted like the red sea, every man’s head turned towards her, and she cautiously approached the bartender who gave her a quick wink.

“Scotch. Neat.”

A dark man with a silver nose ring slid onto the stool next to her.

“It’s on me,” he addressed the bartender, staring at her the whole time. “So. Birthday girl. How old are you turning?”

She smiled softly. The sash was working great, but now she had to come up with a way to answer his question without explicitly lying.

“Who wants to know?”

Maybe flirting would be distracting enough.

He smiled, glancing down for a moment, then holding out his hand. Ha. Men.

“I’m Jon.”

Ugh. She hated handshakes. But for this man, she might be able to make an exception.

“Y/N.”

Five minutes later, she wished with all her heart she could take the handshake back. Y/N should have known better than to talk to a guy at a club. They were all sleazebags. But! She did manage to get a couple of drinks out of it.

“If you’ll excuse me,” she said after his fifth time mentioning Outback Steakhouse.

But before she could leave the bar discreetly, a hand wrapped around her arm, yanking her back.

“Hey, what’s the matter? I thought we were talking?”

Y/N may have been a small-town girl, but that didn’t stop her from grabbing his shoulders and driving her knee up into his crotch, stomping off toward the exit.

Only when she got outside did she realize how fast her heart was beating. She leaned over, hands on her knees to catch her breath.

A soft hand on her shoulder made her snap around, grab the hand and twist it around the stranger’s back, shoving him up against the alley wall.

“I’m sorry!” the man squawked shrilly. “I’m sorry!” It wasn’t Jon.

“What were you doing?” she demanded, not releasing him yet.

“I saw you lean over. I just wanted to see if you were ok!”

She finally drank in the man’s appearance. He was wearing a soft purple sweater vest over a grey button-down, slacks, and worn black converse on his feet.

Confident that he wasn’t a threat, she released him and took a step back.

The man rubbed his elbow softly, glancing at her chest. Before she could tell him off for staring at her rack, he pointed to the sash.

“Is it your birthday?”

She looked down. Oh, he’d been looking at the sash of course. Then why did she feel … disappointed?

“Oh, yeah. Some guy bought me a drink and got a little, er, touchy.”

Suddenly, the man’s face went dark.

“Who is he? Where is he?”

He started to walk back into the club but she stopped him, reaching out and gently grabbing his arm.

“Hey! It’s fine. I kicked him in the crotch.”

The man’s eyes switched from anger to surprise in a flash. He flustered for a moment, before shoving his hands in his pockets and walking back into the alley.

Y/N now took a closer look at his face. He had deep, wise brown eyes, a small five-o-clock shadow gracing his jaw, and very full lips, the latter of which he was biting profusely. Aw. He was nervous. But why?

Maybe because he was in an alley with a random girl who had just been groped at a club and he didn’t know what to do.

She chuckled, attempting to diffuse the tension.

“Um. I didn’t get your name?”

He smiled brightly, thankful for the change in topic.

“Oh! Of course, sorry. I’m Spencer!”

And Y/N braced herself for the telltale outstretching of the hand.

But none came. He simply stood there, one hand in his pocket and the other waving at her, a dopey smile on his face.

Her face lit up.

“You didn’t try to shake my hand,” she muttered, awed.

The man, Spencer, got an embarrassed look on his face, nervously rubbing the back of his neck.

“Sorry, I, uh. I’m a bit of a germaphobe. But, really, everyone should be! The amount of germs passed in a handshake is staggering. They really should be abolished altogether.”

“Right! People should just bow their heads or, or, wave!” she said excitedly, gesturing to his hand. “I mean a handshake is like a hug with a part of you that comes in contact with everything! Might as well go up to someone and start making out with them.”

As she spoke, his face lit up in wonder.

“Right? It’s crazy! But the thing is, some people actually do that! I was in that club for fifteen minutes and I swear I saw three couples leave together that definitely didn’t go in together.”

“I know!” she said, starting to pace in the cramped alley. “I mean, who goes home with someone that you just met! They could be a serial killer for all you know!”

She looked at Spencer and was delighted to see a joyful expression on his face. It suddenly occurred to her that she hadn’t introduced herself.

“I’m Y/N. Sorry for blabbering,” she waved, chuckling slightly.

Spencer smiled even wider.

“Don’t be sorry! Usually, I’m the one who has to apologize.”

“Apologize for what?”

“Blabbering,” he said sheepishly, hands back in his pockets. When he was talking, they had been moving about wildly. It was kind of endearing.

“I don’t know,” Y/N said, considering. “Blabbering is underrated. One could argue it’s the best way to learn useless information.”

“Well, I’d agree but no information is really useless.”

Y/N held up a finger.

“‘Information is useless if it is not applied to something important or if you will forget it before you have a chance to apply it.’”

Spencer’s mouth fell open.

“Timothy Harris?”

She nodded. “The 4-Hour Workweek. Outdated, but still applies.”

When she noticed his expression, it nearly knocked her breath away. He was looking at her like no one ever had before. Like he’d just realized the most important thing in the universe.

Before her cowardice could catch up, she took a step forward, closing the distance between them. His face went blank, shocked by the sudden approach. He nearly gasped when she spoke.

“It’s totally ridiculous to go home with someone you just met, right?”

Spencer’s eyes widened.

“Totally.”

“Why were you out tonight in the first place? You don’t exactly seem like the club-going type.”

He smiled softly.

“I, uh, just got a promotion last week. My friend Morgan wanted to take me out to celebrate. It was either this or karaoke.”

She chuckled softly, their faces so close he must have felt her breath.

“I don’t know, I’d have liked to see your rendition of Bad Romance. Has anyone ever told you you’ve got a whole Lady Gaga vibe?”

“You should see my Beyonce.” And he did a little mime of the Single Ladies dance, sending Y/N into a fit of giggles. Without thinking — probably due to the trace amounts of alcohol in her system, not enough to be drunk, but enough to be tipsy — she reached up her arms around his shoulders, clasping them together behind his neck like a teen slow-dancing at prom.

Spencer seemed startled by the sudden physical contact. He froze, hands unmoving at his sides.

Y/N pulled her arms back, stepping away from him, discouraged and embarrassed.

“Sorry,” she said, collecting herself and walking back towards the club door. “It was nice meeting you.”

“Wait!” he called before she could reenter the club. A tiny part of her let out a breath in relief. She turned around to see him with a hand outstretched toward her, frozen with the uncertainty of what to do next.

He recovered quickly, a blush visible on his cheeks in the lamplight of the alley.

“If you’re leaving, would you, um. Could I walk you home?”

She had no idea what possessed her in that moment but just as he spoke, she walked up to Spencer, threaded her fingers through his hair, and pulled him down into a passionate kiss.

To her surprise, he responded immediately, running his arms around her waist and pulling her flush against him, eagerly returning the kiss.

His lips were so warm. He tasted very faintly of alcohol and maybe a breath mint? Y/N let herself fall into the sensation.

Suddenly, her back was pressed up against the wall of the alley, Spencer’s hands lighting a trail of fire down her body. He hesitated, pulling back briefly to make sure she was ok.

A glint in her eye, she yanked him back down, tongues clashing together in a blaze of glory. He hiked her leg up around his hips, pressing them closer together. Y/N could feel the hardness in his pants pressing into her stomach, sending a wave of heat down to her core.

She pulled back. If they went any further, she didn’t know if she’d be able to leave the alley.

Y/N tried to hide the smile on her face but it was no use. She beamed at Spencer, linking her arm through his elbow.

“Lead the way. Wait, that doesn’t make sense, you’re taking me home. I’ll lead the way!”

And so they walked, arm in arm down the busy D.C. streets, silently enjoying each other’s company.

They arrived outside her apartment fifteen minutes later, Y/N clumsily unlocking the door, nervous from the thought of what was about to happen. They hadn’t explicitly said anything in particular. Was he going to come in? Would she invite him?

Spencer, it seemed, was also daunted, standing awkwardly on the threshold of her place, hands buried in his pockets.

An idea sprung into Y/N’s brain.

She approached him, wrapping her hands around his neck again only this time, his hands rested lightly on her waist.

“Still think going home with a stranger is a bad idea?”

Spencer chuckled softly, stroking the exposed skin of her waist from where her top had ridden up.

“I’m still debating it.”

“Oh?”

He slid his hand around the sash, fingers hovering above her chest.

“I never asked, how old did you turn?”

She smiled. For some reason, she felt she could trust this man. The worst that could happen was he calls the cops on her for having a fake ID. She could deal with that. Destroy the evidence, bat her eyes. Easy. Besides, he looked barely of age himself. She quickly wondered what he did for a living? He did say he got a promotion.

It would be easiest to just tell him the truth.

“I don’t know if I should tell you this…”

He chuckled lowly in her ear, moving his lips gently across her neck.

“I can handle it.”

She gasped at the sensation, legs clamping together.

“Officially, it’s my twenty-third. At least, that’s what it says on my ID. One of them.”

Spencer froze, waiting for her to go on.

Y/N quickly backtracked.

“It’s okay! I’m twenty! Not a minor, no worries.”

But Spencer pulled away, an extremely worried look on his face despite her assurance.

“What?” she asked.

“You’re underage.”

She rolled her eyes.

“Yeah? Come on, by one year. What, you never had a fake ID?”

“No!” he said shrilly, running a hand through his hair.

“Spencer, it’s ok! It’s not like I’m gonna get caught. I look much older and when are there cops at a place like that?”

He reached into his pocket and fished out a folded wallet. Snapping it open, Y/N’s jaw dropped at the FBI badge with his picture in the corner.

She floundered for a moment, unable to truly comprehend what was happening.

“You’re . . .”

“Yep,” he said shortly, pocketing the badge.

“Fuck.”

“Yeah, that’s pretty much my reaction too,” he said, sighing. “I should arrest you.”

Y/N took a step back, incredulous.

“Arrest me?”

“You have a fake ID. You’re clearly drunk.”

She scoffed, crossing her arms.

“Great idea, Spencer. Book me. Take me down to the FBI and tell them exactly what happened to lead to you finding out I’m only twenty. I’m sure they’ll need very specific details.”

A look of realization flitted across Spencer’s face and he buried his head in his hands, groaning.

“How old are you anyway?!” she demanded, upset at him for being upset.

“Thirty-four!” he shouted, throwing his arms up in the air.

Oh shit.

This was bad.

He was fourteen years older than her, in the FBI, and probably was seconds away from arresting her.

“There’s no way you’re thirty-four. I mean, look at you!”

He rolled his eyes, snorting, and beginning to pace the small hallway.

“This is exactly what I get. I meet a girl I really like for the first time in years and she’s decades younger than me. And a criminal!”

“Hey!” she said, shoving his shoulder. “Not decades. I’m not a criminal. And how the hell do you think I feel? I’m out trying to have fun on my birthday, some guy gropes me leading me to run into the perfect man, take him back to my apartment thinking I’m gonna get lucky only to find out he’s a cop who’s gonna arrest me. Best birthday ever.”

Spencer eyed her carefully.

“Get lucky?”

Y/N’s eyes went wide. Shit. She hadn’t meant to reveal that part. Even though it was pretty obvious, something about it not being said added to the excitement.

“Did you really . . . I mean were you…. Um.” Spencer seemed to lose all authoritative tone suddenly, stammering nervously. It was such a 180, it shocked Y/N.

“Was I going to let you fuck me?”

He cringed at the bluntness but nodded sheepishly.

“Yeah, Spencer. I was.” She scoffed. “Honestly, I still would. But I understand if I’m more than you can handle,” she said coyly, trying to keep a straight face. “Just please don’t arrest me, Sir.”

His expression darkened at her words. Something deep and lustful behind it. Feeling bold, she went with it.

“Or is it Agent?” she cocked her head, holding a finger to her lips in thought. “How do I address you properly, sir?”

A small groan left Spencer’s mouth and he stepped forward, brushing a hand over her hair.

“We shouldn’t do this, Y/N…”

Slowly, she backed up into her apartment, pulling him with her.

“We shouldn’t.” She gently led him to her bedroom, sitting down on the edge of the bed, him towering over her. “To be fair, you’re the one with handcuffs.”

He groaned again, wiping a hand down his face.

“This is a bad idea.”

But he crouched down in front of her, pressing his forehead to her exposed knee, breathing deeply.

“Spencer,” it was barely a whisper but he met her eyes instantly. She smiled gently, reaching out to him and coaxing him up from the floor so he was hovering above her, mouths inches apart. “Listen, you don’t have to do this if you don’t want to,” she assured him. “But I want this.”

She leaned back, pulling him with her so he was lying atop her, an obvious bulge pressing against her through their clothing.

“I want this, Spencer.”

Y/N hoped that he knew he could leave if he wanted. She didn’t want to pressure him into anything. Despite the age difference, she seemed to be the one more in control.

Spencer lowered his head, sighing.

“Fuck,” he moaned, lightly thrusting against her, a moan escaping her mouth at the contact.

That seemed to be the last straw.

He sat up, ripping his sweater vest off along with his button-down, quickly moving back over her, lips latching to her neck and chest.

Oh thank god. She wasn’t sure if she’d have been able to stand it if he’d left. But from the way he was touching her, hands moving up and down her sides, gently pulling her skirt down, looking up at her every now and then to make sure it was alright, he wasn’t going anywhere.

She just spurred him on, stripping off her top and bra, now only wearing her panties.

Spencer groaned at the sight, a hand reaching up, hovering over her breast. She arched her back up into his hand, letting out a gasp as he started to fondle her.

God, his hands were huge. And nimble. Oh, so nimble.

She reached for his belt, quickly unbuckling it and tossing it across the room, pushing his pants down faster than possible.

He groaned again, a magical sound, reaching a hand down to stroke her through her panties, coaxing a gasp from her beautiful lips.

In a flash, Spencer had pulled down her panties and buried his head between her legs.

Y/N gasped, hand flying to the back of his head, edging him on.

He slipped two fingers into her, his tongue flicking against her clit wildly, making her writhe and moan on the bed, gasping his name.

“Spencer, Spencer.” It took all the resolve she had to pull his head away from her. “I need you to fuck me.”

Spencer looked at her, trying to read her expression.

“Y/N . . . are you sure?”

Rather than answer, she yanked him up, crashing their mouths together, one hand quickly pushing down his boxers, his erection springing free.

Good god.

Wow.

How the hell was she supposed to fit that inside her?

She looked up at him, impressed, only to see a slight blush on his cheeks.

“Well,” she said, kicking off the panties pooled around her ankles, laid bare underneath the stranger on top of her. “This night gets better by the second.”

His size was a little daunting, but the thought of him slowly filling her up, probably not being able to fit all the way in, only added to her desire.

He dipped his head down, stealing a quick yet passionate kiss.

“Do you have . . ?”

“Yeah, in the drawer.”

He reached over, grabbed a condom, and rolled it on. It looked extremely tight on him. Y/N unconsciously licked her lips. Spencer chuckled.

“Maybe next time. I need to be inside you.”

And with that, he flung her legs around his hips, positioning his cock at her entrance, slowly running it up and down, moistening the condom with her juices.

God. The feeling of him being so close and yet so far was almost enough to push her over the edge right there. He had been a god with his tongue and she was desperate for more friction.

Reaching down, she lightly circled her clit, moaning at the instant pleasure.

Before she could enjoy it much, hands gripped her wrists, pinning them above her on the bed, Spencer staring at her with a dark look.

“If you wanna touch yourself, you have to ask permission. Understood?”

Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck.

Words escaped her so she settled for a small nod.

“Use your words.”

His tone was so commanding the word left her mouth the moment he finished speaking.

“Yes.”

He lightly placed his hand around her neck, not applying any pressure, just hovering.

“Yes, what?”

Fuck. She wondered if it was possible to come just from being talked to.

“Yes, sir.”

And with that, he slid inside her, slowly filling her up with his length, moaning roughly at the sensation.

Y/N’s eyes snapped open, watching as Spencer’s face tightened, jawline even sharper, and a dark look in his eye. He carefully applied a bit more pressure to her throat, quickly releasing his hand afterward.

They were both still as she adjusted to the size of him inside her.

“Is this ok?” his voice sounded so different than it had a moment ago. He had shifted back to the geeky guy she’d met in the alley.

She nodded gently at him, running a hand over his cheek in a way that was surely far too personal for a one night stand.

“My safeword is apple.”

He froze for a moment, shocked. Apparently she was kinkier than he’d expected.

Tired of not being fucked by this man, she dug her heels into his back, directing him to move.

He did without hesitation, groaning at the sensation of slowly pulling out and thrusting back in.

The feeling overwhelmed both of them, a litany of curses and moans falling from their mouths. Spencer’s hand moved back to her throat, squeezing much harder now that he knew what to listen for if she wanted to stop.

The sound of her moaning was enough to make him come right there and then. That, with the feeling of her around him and the fact that his hand was around her throat, totally in control.

“Fuck, you’re so fucking tight.”

Oh my god, where was this coming from? Her nails scraped down his back, leaving a trail of marks.

“You like feeling me fuck you?” he wrapped a hand around her leg, pulling it higher to try to hit the magical spot inside of her. “You like when I wrap my hand around your pretty little neck? Showing you how in control I am of you.”

She nodded ecstatically, legs tightening around him. She was definitely close to coming.

“What were you thinking? Going to a bar when you’re underage. Then leading a stranger to your home, intending to let him fuck you silly. Finding out I’m ages older than you and still practically begging me to bend you over and pound you till you can’t see straight. Is the age difference what gets you off, Y/N?”

At the sound of her name, she let out a raucous moan, no doubt waking up the other tenants of the building.

Spencer smiled, drilling harder and tightening his grip on her throat.

“Oh, you like it when I say your name? You like when I shove my big cock in you and moan your name in your ear?”

She practically screamed as his hand started to circle her clit, the stimulation practically knocking the air out of her.

He was hitting her g-spot with every thrust, pushing her closer and closer to the edge. She was so close. She just needed….

“You gonna come for me, Y/N?” he punctuated it with a particularly hard thrust, feeling her begin to clench around him, orgasm washing over her.

Her walls tightening around his cock was enough to send him barreling over the edge, grunting as he thrust in her four more times before feeling his balls tighten up and spill his seed deep inside her.

“Fuck,” he grunted, using his forearms to stay above her, both of them completely out of breath.

Slowly, he pulled out with a sigh, discarding the condom in the trash by her bed.

Y/N was seeing stars. This man had just given her her first penetrative orgasm. And, possibly the best sex she’d ever had.

‘Fuck’, was right.

Spencer flopped down next to her, still naked, trying to catch his breath.

Y/N turned to him, placing a hand on his chest.

It was strange. Even though they’d just had some of the best sex Y/N had ever had, she didn’t even know this man. And yet, somehow, she felt like she did. Did that happen a lot once you had sex with someone?

Her eyes refocused from where they’d been staring off into space to see a concerned Spencer looking at her.

“What?” she asked.

He studied her for another moment before speaking.

“You were biting your lip.”

A blush crept up her cheek.

“Yeah sorry. Helps me think.”

He let out a sharp breath, a sort of soft laugh.

“What?” she asked.

“Nothing,” he said as he retrieved his underwear, slipping them back on and starting to button up his shirt.

Oh. Was he going to leave? Of course he was! That’s all this was, anyway. A one night stand. You had sex. That was the point.

Then why did it feel like hell?

“You okay?”

Her thoughts had drifted into space again. Spencer had laid back down, now on his side facing her, holding her hand, looking at her intensely. His gaze was practically burning.

“Yeah.”

“I, uh, I don’t normally do . . . that.”

She chuckled. It was rather obvious he wasn’t the hookup type. Despite the dirty things that had come from his mouth.

“Me either.”

He softly stroked her cheek.

“Are you going to stay?” she blurted.

His face fell.

“Oh, no I wasn’t going to impose if you-”

“NO! I mean,” she took a breath. “I want you to . . . I mean, if you want . . . I'd . . . I’d like you to stay. If you want?”

God. She sounded like a teenager asking their crush to prom. This was no stuttering sophomore she could kick in the crotch if he said no. He was a man. Although, he did tend to stutter. Maybe it wasn’t all that different.

He lit up, a wide smile brightening his features and he began to stroke her hand.

“I’d like that too.”

Wondering if it was possible for cheeks to sprain from smiling, she pulled up the covers, cuddling up against him, falling asleep almost immediately.

BEEP. BEEP. BEEP.

Ugh. The stupid alarm. She had been right in the middle of a wonderful dream involving Spencer’s hands and her bruised throat.

What time was it anyway?

The red clock radio proudly displayed: 7:00.

Right, it was the first day of classes. Maybe she’d just ditch and stay in with Spencer. He had been so warm she was sure he had a sun where a heart should be. College didn’t matter anyway, right? Ugh.

A shiver ran through her. She reached out for Spencer, only to find the cold other half of the bed.

Sitting up in bed, she stared at the empty spot.

Had he really walked out on her in the middle of the night? No…. No? Fuck. How could she be so stupid. Of course he didn’t want to-

Oh, he’d left a note.

In a fast yet tidy scrawl, Spencer had left the following message on a little notecard.

Good morning! I am truly sorry to walk out like this, but I have a class at 7:30 and I have to stop by my place and get ready. I’ll be back at the bar tonight, 10:30. I’d love to see you there.

-Spencer. X

Her heart melted into an ocean at the sentiment behind each individual letter. The man she’d just had a dirty one night stand with wanted to see her again.

Wait, he’d said a class? He hadn’t told her he was a student! To be fair, neither had she. That’s another thing they had in common apparently. It made sense why he didn’t tell her. A lot of people were ashamed of going back to college later in life. She thought that was ridiculous. Good for him.

Maybe she could look him up in the student registry. Actually, he may not even go to Georgetown. There were plenty of colleges nearby. She couldn’t have looked him up anyway. She didn’t even know his last name.

It was probably a good thing he left, because she, too, had a class at 7:30.

It only took her twenty minutes to shower, get dressed, and walk the very short distance to campus.

She arrived in the lecture hall with exactly one minute to spare, finding a seat next to a brightly dressed redhead holding a fuzzy pen.

“Hi! I’m Allie.”

“Y/N,” she said, suppressing the cringe as Allie reached out to shake her hand.

“Nice to meet you! What’s your major?”

Oh god. The inevitable college question.

“Journalism. You?”

“English,” she said, rolling her eyes. “Super boring I know, but it lets me take fun classes like this one. Why are you taking this class?”

“Oh, um. It looked fun, I guess. My dad was a lawyer and he kind of piqued my interest in the criminal justice system.”

Allie sighed.

“Thank god. You know half the girls are here just because the Professor is a hottie,” she said with air quotes, rolling her eyes again.

“Really?” Y/N asked, glancing around at the seats noticing the vast majority of the population were women. “Wait, I thought Ms. Merklins was the teacher? Did something change?”

“You didn’t get the email? It just went out the other day, Ms. Merklins had to retire. Something about a club foot. Anyway, the new teacher is supposedly super overqualified. Plus, he’s cute.”

“Huh.”

“Yep. I talked to this one girl in the hall, she actually said she’d sleep with him! Can you imagine?”

Y/N laughed.

“Nooooo. I cannot and I don’t want to. I’m just here to learn, I promise.”

“Same here. Although, if I start getting C’s, all bets are off.”

Y/N laughed and politely chatted with Allie while they waited.

The Professor’s office door swung open and Y/N reached into her bag to get her laptop.

“Hello, class.”

“Hello,” the class echoed.

“Welcome to Criminology. I am Professor Reid and I-.”

Y/N looked up over her screen as he stopped talking, making sudden eye-contact with the Professor.

She froze in her seat, blood running cold.

No way. No fucking way.

Spencer?

TAGLIST

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#spencer reid smut #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid #spencer reid fic #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #fanfic #fanfiction #fandom #smut

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kisshwa · 4 years

Text

𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐙 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 - they forget your child’s birthday

「 seonghwa 」

“forgetting a dinner? okay, i can understand that. but forgetting your son’s birthday, seonghwa?” you whispered quietly in the kitchen. “that’s crossing the line. how do you forget something like that?”

he sighed deeply, turning on his heels to search for his son. he was laying on his stomach in his room, playing with the new dinosaurs his grandma had bought him when seonghwa walked in. y/s/n scrambled to his feet happily and threw his arms around his father’s neck. “daddy!”

“happy birthday, baby boy.” seonghwa kissed all over his face. “i’m sorry i’m late.”

“it’s okay.” he crawled down and turned to gather his new toys to show his dad. “you’re here now. that’s all that matters.”

「 hongjoong 」

hongjoong rarely forgot special days. it was unlike him. but when eight o’clock rolled around and he had still not shown up, you sent your teary-eyed daughter up to get ready for her bath. it was her sixth birthday and she had waited all day for her daddy to come back from the studio, only to be greatly disappointed.

“how about we watch a movie?” you suggested, holding back your own emotions for the sake of your child. “i bought alvin and the chipmunks.”

it was clear that she was upset, but nonetheless, she agreed and climbed up on the sofa with you. you covered yourselves in blankets and drifted off to sleep with animated voices in the background. hongjoong skeptically walked through the front door, holding a two-tiered cake already lit with candles. he loudly sang ‘happy birthday’ as he entered the room, waking up the both of you.

“daddy!” she launched herself off the couch, nearly knocking the cake out of his hands. “you remembered!”

“could never forget, love.”

「 yunho 」

you were livid. for the last month, you and yunho had been planning this surprise party for your son’s fifth birthday. however, the party had been over with for two hours and yunho had yet to show up. the guests, including his own members, had already left. y/s/n was in his bedroom, coloring in his new book when yunho finally arrived.

“baby, i am so sorry.” he was out of breath. “my car broke down, the towing company took ages to get to me, and.. ugh, i feel terrible.”

you continued scrubbing the dishes in the sink, “i’m not the one you should be apologizing to. y/s/n’s the birthday boy.”

setting his stuff down, he shuffled down the hall to his son who had already jumped up at the sound of his father’s voice. from the kitchen, all you could hear was your son’s squeals and husband’s bubbly laugh. as much as you wanted to be upset at yunho, you were just glad your little family was finally together, happy and healthy.

「 yeosang 」

yeosang hadn’t slept more than seven hours in the past three days. the comeback was taking a major toll on him and his ability to remember things. your son’s birthday this year was in extra need of celebration. when he was born, the doctor’s gave him a life expectancy of two years. the thought of him making it to four was unbelievable, but here he was.

“where’s daddy?” y/s/n asked curiously as the two of you sat at the kitchen table for lunch. “i want to show him my big boy muscles!”

you forced a smile behind your hurt heart, “i’m sure he’s on his way.”

it wasn’t until eight o’clock when yeosang came barreling through the door. you looked up from your paperwork and pursed your lips. he did the same and slipped out of his shoes, looking around for his son. you explained that he’d already fallen asleep, but would be more than happy to get woken up to see his dad.

“hey, bub.” yeosang crouched down to meet his son’s eyes. “mommy said you wanted to show me your big boy muscles. did you get those for your birthday?”

「 san 」

for the past three out of four years of y/d/n’s life, san had been away either on tour or booked with a crazy schedule. her birthday was usually spent cuddled up on the couch with you while her dad was on facetime across the world. it had become almost like a tradition for the two.

it was nearing ten o’clock and your baby girl was growing too tired to keep her eyes open much longer, but she didn’t want to miss out on seeing her favorite person. you had spent the entire day together, doing everything she could imagine. you just wanted her to feel extra special for the day.

“i guess daddy’s busy.” she frowned, looking up from where her head laid on your chest. “i miss him.”

as if on cue, your phone dinged. it was san sincerely apologizing for forgetting to call. before you could respond, his caller id was lighting up your screen.

“happy birthday, princess!” he exclaimed, sitting at the desk in his hotel room. “it’s probably late there, isn’t it? i totally forgot about the time zones.”

y/d/n perked up instantly, grabbing the phone from your hands and grinning brightly. the two talked for an hour or so, about anything and everything, until san insisted she go to bed. he promised to throw her a huge party once he landed back home.

「 mingi 」

mingi loved all things birthdays, so you were utterly confused when he hadn’t come home or contacted your daughter all day for hers. you knew he was busy as ever with promotions, but that had never stopped him from calling any other time. y/d/n waddled around the house, holding the stuffed bear uncle seonghwa had bought her the week prior.

it was way past your daughter’s bed time and getting her to sleep was a hassle in itself. she wrapped her little hand around your finger and allowed you to guide her to her room. just as you passed into the hallway, the front door swung open and in came eight wild boys, screaming the tune of ‘happy birthday’. they carried balloons, gifts, and several sweet treats for the birthday girl.

“you thought i forgot?” mingi scooped her up into his arms and blew raspberries on her stomach. “i could never forget my baby girl’s birthday!”

「 wooyoung 」

“things have just been so hectic.” wooyoung sighed and pushed his hair back. “i got caught up in recording. you know i didn’t do it on purpose.”

you licked your lips and shook your head, “i’m not the one you need to explain to. y/s/n is in the bathroom crying. go comfort him, not me.”

wooyoung mentally cursed himself for forgetting and headed towards his son. he found him sitting on the shower rug, legs crossed and face hidden in his hands. woo knelt down and ruffled his boy’s hair like he always did. y/s/n looked up with bloodshot eyes and sniffled.

“i am so sorry, buddy. there’s no excuse for forgetting your birthday.” he hugged him tightly. “i promise i’ll make it up to you, okay? how about tomorrow night? me, you, and the arcade?”

「 jongho 」

jongho hated himself. he hated that he’d gotten so caught up in his work that he completely disregarded his own daughter’s birthday. you had been calling him all evening to see when he was coming for dinner, but there was no response. when he finally arrived home, you and y/d/n were fast asleep on the couch. her hair was still wet from the bath.

“she’s been waiting for you all night.” you mumbled as jongho approached the two of you. “i think you’ve got some apologizing to do.”

jongho peered down at the little girl who was slowly waking up from the talking. she looked up and smiled when her eyes met her father’s. he gently picked her up and sat her in his lap, kissing the top of her head.

“daddy’s so sorry for not being here.” he whispered. “how about on sunday we have a daddy-daughter day? does that sound good?”

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flying-guinea-pig · 3 years

Text

Not What He Seems (ch.1)

(Prefer to read this on AO3?)

(It’s happening folks. The big reveal, four years in the making.)

NotWhat He Seems: Chapter 1

Thomas' heart always beat a little faster when he summoned something, even after several years in this job. It was the thrill of calling a powerful being into this reality with only your wits and some chalk lines as protection.

Beëlzebob was an intermediate-level demon. He took the appearance of every cliché devil ever - hairy black goat legs, a ridiculously buff and gleaming red upper body, large curled horns. The works.

He was also not cooperating at all.

"You are... di̵s̢tra͢c̢te͜d," the demon whispered, his voice echoing back strangely from the corners of the summoning lab. The shadows seemed to thicken.

Thomas kept his face impassive. These were just some special effects, after all. His binding circle was perfect, he didn't need to worry.

"I have outlined our offer in this document. These are the terms you have previously discussed at length with my colleague," he said, reaching out slightly to hand Beëlzebob the carefully rolled up contract. "All should be in order."

The demon unrolled it and took his sweet time reading it through. He would make a good addition to the safe summons list, despite being a bit higher level than their usual choices. This old-fashioned approach, with the written contract and all - it would teach the students to be patient and give them time to focus on the details before shaking on anything.

"Yes," the demon said, dragging a black claw over the parchment. "These terms are acceptable. However, there is one issue."

"Is there?"

A horrible, fanged grin. "The contract must be written in your o̦̰͚w̮̮n̬͇̹̕ blood, mortal."

Maybe it was his experience with grandstanding demons, or Tyrone had been rubbing off on him, but Thomas was not impressed. "That wasn't in the agreement."

"You will rewrite it. Ḩè̲̙͙̩̤r̦e̹̦ ͏͕̥a̝̱̺͟n̘͔d ̛̦̱̲̖n̩͈̪o̰̻͓͓͢w̺͍͎̦.̪̣͇̩́"

"No, I don't think so," Thomas said, mildly. Seriously? All that work was just wasted? Typical. He was not going to use his own blood to write it, sheesh. With all those clauses and addendums the thing was way too long. Not to mention willingly given human blood had power - power that wasn't a part of this offer.

The shadows twisted - the candles flared. "You will, little mortal, or I will step over this boundary and write it myself, straight from your veins."

"This attitude is not convincing me you're a good fit for our list."

"You have summoned me and I will not leave without my deal!" Red-tinged smoke filled the circle, edging over the chalk lines and spreading into the room. It stank of sulphur and decay.

Thomas coughed. Dramatics aside, maybe it was time to get rid of Beëlzebob. Too bad, Hicks would be disappointed to cross off another name on the safe summons list… It had shrunk a lot in the past years. If this kept up their students would soon only get to summon the Organ Duck. If they couldn’t offer a proper practical education they might eventually run out of interested students as well, which was bad news for the survival of the demonology department.

"Whoa, did someone drop a rotten egg in here?"

Tyrone usually didn't barge in during summonings, especially when they were trying to get more demons for the safe summons list, but this time Thomas didn't mind. The open door let in some fresh air and that was very welcome at the moment.

Tyrone entered the room, waving away some of the smoke. "Hey, Hicks mentioned you wanted to have a talk?"

"What? Oh, yeah," Thomas said, distracted. The smoke was dissipating with record speed and Beëlzebob was visible again, staring at Tyrone in abject terror. "I'm a bit busy right now though."

"Do you need any help?" Tyrone offered. His smile was perfectly friendly.

Thomas glanced at Beëlzebob. "As a matter of fact, he was just leaving."

"Yes! Yes indeed," the demon hurried to say. "Just leaving. Right now. I’m going. Big misunderstanding, you know how it is, have to be somewhere else, goodbye now!"

“Thanks buddy," Tyrone said. "Very accommodating of you, leaving without a deal like that. I will remember this. Here, have a snack."

With a snap of his fingers a familiar deep-fried ball appeared, partly wrapped in a festive paper towel.

Beëlzebob caught it with a flinch and popped away without another sound.

“So, what exactly did you want to talk about?”

“Just a second, let me clean up first.” He frowned at Tyrone. “Speaking of cleaning up, what happened to your shirt?”

“What?” Tyrone glanced down at the brown stains on his usually so crisp white shirt, and made a face. “Aw man, seriously?”

“Do I want to know?”

“I bumped into Banerjee on my way here. He was carrying samples. And he didn’t even apologize, can you believe it?”

Banerjee was the Cryptozoology department’s newest hire, working on his doctorate involving – honestly, Thomas had no idea, he just knew it involved a lot of mud. He wasn’t aware of Tyrone’s true identity. The university staff tried to keep that one under wraps. Parents might object to their children coming to a university where Alcor the Dreambender was frequently hanging around.

“He owes me a new shirt.”

Thomas rolled his eyes. “You can literally make it brand new with a thought.”

“He doesn’t know that. It’s about the principle of the thing.”

Shaking his head, Thomas set to work. To his students it often came as a surprise that practical demonology involved a lot of cleaning up. The preparations were extensive, of course, but afterwards someone had to put away the candles and mop up the chalk, blood, and other assorted fluids the demons occasionally left behind. Beëlzebob in particular had left footprints of some kind of sulphurous ooze that he probably shouldn’t handle without gloves…

Safely removing summoning circles was an art, really. It’s not like you could just start scrubbing away with these things – the outer part was usually the binding circle, and you never knew if the demon was still hanging around, invisible, waiting for you to make a mistake. Not that he expected something to happen while Alcor the Dreambender was literally waiting at the door, but proper caution was a good habit to have.

“You know, I could clean this up for you with a snap of my fingers,” Tyrone mused, lounging against the wall while he waited. His shirt held no trace of the brown stains.

“Are you offering?”

“For free?”

Thomas snickered at the almost scandalous look on Tyrone’s face. Put down his cleaning supplies. He had planned to do this differently, but you know what? Now might be as good a time as ever. And it would be fun, wouldn’t it, to put Tyrone off-balance for a moment? “How about a deal then?”

Tyrone perked up.

“You get this room back to its cleaned-up, usable state,” said Thomas, and felt the smile break through on his face. “In return, you get to be my best man.”

To his credit, it didn’t take Tyrone long to realise. “Thomas! You finally popped the question then?”

“Yep. I said I was going to do it soon, this can’t be a surprise –“

“And she said yes?”

“We did talk about it beforehand, you know –“

“Congrats!”

“Thanks,” Thomas grinned. “So, what do you say? Fair warning though, being my best man comes with certain responsibilities. Making sure I’m on time at the wedding and such.”

Organising the stag night as well, technically. Though Thomas suspected Brad already had some thoughts in that direction.

“I’ve been someone’s best man before, I know how it goes,” Tyrone said. “You’ve got yourself a deal, Thomas.”

The room around them shifted, the magical arrays fading away and taking the trailing odour of brimstone with them.

Tyrone’s expression shifted too, as he let go of Thomas’ hand.

“What’s wrong?” Thomas asked.

“Nothing.”

“You seem upset?”

“I am happy for you,” Tyrone said. “It’s just… you’re getting old.”

“Wow, thanks.”

“No, I mean – look at you! Getting married. Maybe kids and a house, soon.”

“I’m not buying a house on a teacher’s salary,” Thomas said. “The rest… who knows? We’ll see how it goes. Is that what’s upsetting you? That I’m growing up?”

Tyrone shrugged awkwardly. He seemed smaller somehow. “You’re going to be very busy with all that – that life stuff. It’s happening already. Everyone is so busy. Your dates with Elisha, Eddy’s got his new job, Brad’s mucking around in his dad’s company - when was the last time we all hung out, just for fun? Not because it was someone’s birthday or anything? It’s been ages since we had a game night.”

That… had been a while, true. “I guess that’s what happens when you get older. There are more demands on your time, you get to juggle more responsibilities.”

“I’m not getting older.”

“Right.” Thomas took a deep breath. “Listen, so… we’re busy more often. And it’s not like in college, where we all could just hang out all the time. But you’re basically part of the family, Tyrone. Alcor. You’ll always have a place here. And I’m sure the rest of the gang would say the same.”

“Promise?”

“Promise,” Thomas said. And smiled, to lighten the mood. “You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

“You’d just miss all the amazing deals I make with you.”

“Of course” Thomas said, glad Tyrone was now teasing instead of moping. “I’m clearly only using you for your clout as Alcor. You’ve made my life so much easier.”

Tyrone mimed a gasp. “Sarcasm, Thomas? Ouch.”

“Not entirely sarcasm,” Thomas admitted. “You do make my life easier, sometimes. When you feel like it. For instance, vanishing that sulphurous stuff Beëlzebob left behind, I was not looking forward to handling that. The smell lingered.”

Tyrone suddenly looked way too innocent. “Oh, I didn’t exactly vanish it.”

Oh Stars. “What did you do?”

“Might have put it somewhere. Like, oh, I dunno… Banerjee’s car.”

Thomas facepalmed. Serves him right for making a vague deal like that. “Is it at least safe?”

“Define ‘safe’.”

“Tyrone!”

“Don’t worry, Thomas, I promised not to deliberately harm the university’s students and faculty, remember? He’ll be fine.”

“All this for an accidental stain on your shirt, really?”

Tyrone folded his arms in front of him. “He didn’t apologize.”

Thomas shook his head, exasperated.

Demons. They really knew how to hold grudges.

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

The Mindscape was a vast, endless realm where the strong hunted the weak and territories were defined, invaded, and redefined. This was the place where demons lived, and they didn’t like each other any better than they liked humans. The collective noun for a group of demons, as they say, is ‘a carnage’. Teaming up was rare, and more often than not ended in the stronger one destroying the other as soon as their goal was met. That was just the natural order of things.

Even so, sometimes even they needed a neutral place to go. Somewhere deals could be made without worrying about being devoured. This place was the Midway Bar, run by a demon known only as the Bartender, and for the past six years it had attracted a group of regulars.

They took over the table in the corner. Sometimes the group lost a member, occasionally it gained one. They weren’t here to make deals. They were here to drown their misery and sneak away before a stronger demon took advantage of their intoxication to ambush them outside these walls.

Beëlzebob entered the Midway Bar. He went straight to the Bartender, who after a short conversation pointed in the direction of the gloomy table in the corner.

“Get lost,” Flaga the Eagle-winged said, at his approach.

The demon next to her, who mostly looked like a giant fungus with teeth, curled a green tendril around their glass. “Yeah. This is a private party.”

Beëlzebob paused. He was stronger than each of them, he knew. But this was no place for threats. “Apologies for the interruption. May I sit?”

That wasn’t how demons talked to each other, especially not to a bunch of low-levels like them. They shared a suspicious glance. The one across from Flaga, some kind of feathered crocodile hybrid, raised his empty glass meaningfully.

Of course. “Listening can parch the throat so,” Beëlzebob said. “Let me get those refilled for you, and then we̙̮'̥͉̘ll̟̮ ț̳̮a̪̩̗̥l̯̹̹k̰.”

#transcendence au #alcor the dreambender #thomas strange #fic: not what he seems #the midway bar #demons #I mean it's TAU so that's a given

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vanchlo · 4 years

Text

Beside

Main Masterlist / Word Count: 4.6k / Warnings: Is angst considered one? Is sadness? Excess fluff? / Song: Beside You by 5SOS, ofc

Premise: You had been his first fan, before anybody else, arguably. Perhaps, that had been what had made it hurt the worst when he had forgotten you, amongst so many other things. How could you ever tell him that, if you were given the chance?

Pairing: Harry x Reader

“He smiled the most exquisite smile, veiled by memory, tinged by dreams.”

- Unknown

You’d be lying to yourself if you said that it looked any different. Sure, the addition of the few cardboard boxes and elliptical could maybe chalk up to that. But, the lie fell away before it was even really thought when a memory was sparked by every item your eyes fell on. What was different about it was how it felt, and how it felt more than different, if there was even a word for that. You were rather sure that there were never words good enough for your feelings after everything that had happened over the years.

You hadn’t even been sure if you could make it this far. That started with the drive, the worst part being driving past his. You thought that nothing could trump that until you opened the door and the multitudes of memories came flying at you. Long ago, you had taken down the pictures tacked to cork boards and shown in frames, but somehow, they had reappeared. Thanks to your mum, you thought. It felt like knives in the back of your eyes when you saw them, reminded for the hundredth time of how much things had changed. You weren’t sure if the reminders would ever stop, seeing as how they had been coming for the last nine years. Although they had dwindled over time, according to your proximity and whereabouts, they still never ceased. They never stopped hurting, or stirred up ‘what if’s inside of you.

Tears streamed angrily down your cheeks as the cotton fabric of the curtains left your hands. You had checked maybe twice now, three if you were telling yourself the truth. The thing was, you hadn’t been doing a lot of that lately, but you had needed it right in that moment as his curtains remained still. Then, there were yours, yanked to the side in a blush pink crumple. The images stared back at you, making your head hurt more than it already did. You weren’t sure how that was even a possibility.

“You rang?” a voice nearly demands. “Hullo?” you still don’t know what to do or how to say it, until you do.

“I’m sorry.”

“Reckon it took ya long enough. Now, why’re you cryin’ over Maths? Don’t think it deserves that much attention, don’t you agree?” he replies, making the pages in front of you blur all the more when your bed dips from his weight. “God, remind me again why we’re takin’ Geometry t’gether when we could’ve done somethin’ easier?”

“I dunno. I thought it was your idea,” you answer sheepishly, finding his shoulder with your head.

“Beats me. Whatever helps me avoid mo’ Maths down tha road,” he suggests, and you find yourself humming along in agreement. His fingers calloused from trying to learn guitar are felt on your forearm. “What d’ya say we take a break from this t’ bake some cookies?”

“But I want to finish it now,” you protest, meeting his eyes for the first time. They’re green as ever, and softer than you predicted after the argument you had had last night.

“Ya, and yer not gonna get anythin’ done if yer upset. I think doin’ somethin’ fun, like bakin’ fer a bit will be jus’ tha trick. C’mon,” he almost cooed, shutting the textbook and then tugging on your hand. They had ended up burnt, but the both of you ignored it when you later ate them on your bed as he explained tangents, cosines, and the like.

“You’re sure?”

“Positive,” he answered with enough confidence in his voice that you thought maybe you’d ask for some. You thought to yourself, isn’t that what you had been doing all of this time? Regardless of how many times you had asked that question, the same answer never made you feel any better. You nodded, just like every other time, assuring him you believe him, but you didn’t. How could you?

“You really won’t forget me if you make it big on the show, Harry?”

“Truth or lie, bubs?”

“Don’t tell me,” you whisper.

“‘Course not, love. How could I forget me bestest friend in tha whole wide world, huh? ‘ve known you since we were in nappies, ya don’t f’get that kind o’ rubbish,” and then, you were laughing.

Every time you’d think of that memory, you’d chide yourself for how you’d left it at that. The way that you let him leave you, but more importantly, how he let himself leave you.

That was one of the last times things had been so normal, and the last of burning cookies in the oven. There weren’t any more food fights in your kitchen, splashing hot, sudsy water at the other, or snapping tea towels at the other’s bum. A few weeks after the burnt cookies, you’d found the last one at the bottom of the cookie jar, amazed that any were left after his greedy hands. With an emptiness in your chest, you dropped it in the trash bin hurriedly, and escaped to your bedroom. It hadn’t been the first time, and you hoped, somehow and in some way, it would be the last.

Without knowing it, you had started a bad habit of lying to yourself, right then and there. As you stood at the window, pinning the curtains to the side in your secret S.O.S message, you waited. It wasn’t nearly as long as a few days before when your legs had ached for being there so long, but you still waited, too long. He didn’t come or pull his curtains aside. Somewhere deep inside of you, you knew that he never would come to your rescue ever again.

You couldn’t remember the last time that you had came home since moving out that a visit hadn’t been marred by the memory of him. Then again, when you thought hard on it, you were sure that there had never been a time where it wasn’t. Even if it had been nine years since things had changed, your eyes still strayed to his window at every visit. Sometimes, you even thought you saw his outline behind his curtains, or in the near dark, on your bed waiting for you. He never was there waiting, and unbeknownst to him, you could never help it but be waiting. It was what you had done best, and worst, for the last near decade.

It was difficult for you to remember the last time you had been home, stretching your thoughts until you figured it was last Christmas. Another one where he left you waiting, seeming as if that was the thing he was best at himself. Leaving you waiting for a text from him, but regardless of the bittersweetness, they came. On Christmas. Your birthday. Random days. The day you graduated with all of your classmates and without him. Then, when you had graduated uni, unable to stop wishing that he had been there, just like he was supposed to at all of the big moments. Most of all, when your mums told him to text you and the other way around, which you think hurt you the worst.

The house was quiet after a busy day cooking with your mum for a Sunday lunch. It always had confused you how so much fuss and work could be made just for a meal that lasted shy of twenty minutes. Tick tocking, the clock above the tap was the only sound in the house later that night. A mild summer heat still clung in the air outside, but you had chosen to stay in. You tried not to register the traditional disappointment on your mother’s face when she had asked you to join her to go next door for dinner. After several times of obliging, sitting at his family’s table with memories splashed all around, you found it unbearable to do it ever again. Worst of all, it made you doubt yourself when you’d remember the way your eyes gravitated towards the door, wondering if he’d walk in. It happened every time, even if you knew he was on the other side of the world at the moment. You couldn’t do it again, not just that, but so many other things.

At the memory of fingerpainting on the sliding glass door, much to your mum’s horror at your mere ages of three, you retreated to your bedroom recalling how you had insisted it was his idea. You didn’t believe him when he pulled the same thing then, and certainly you didn’t now, when a Peter Pan like scene waited before your eyes.

Your blink was long and purposeful, but no matter how many times you repeated it, it failed to do its job. It was still there when you opened your eyes, leading you to have a hard time believing them. At first, you weren’t sure if you wanted to believe them. If you were going to lie to yourself, you’d tell them that you wished it was a mirage of sorts just like all of the other times. You wishfully thought that it’ll go away with a blink, but it doesn’t.

If you weren’t lying to yourself? You’d tell them that you should be a lot of things, including wanting it to be imagined, but you couldn’t change the fact that it was not. Deep inside of yourself, you knew like black and white that you wouldn’t ever want to change it. If you thought with your brain, that’d be another story. You should be mad, but you weren’t. For once, you hoped that the good feeling would outweigh all of the bad ones for just enough time so that you could have a good visit. You had wanted that, and so much more, for so many years, more than anything at all, that it could be like old times. That dream had yet to come true, and you had buried it long ago.

Swallowing against a dry throat, you decide with your hand that you’ve been ready for years for this to happen, and the light flickers to life at your fingertips.

“Y’know, ya shouldn’t just leave yer window open. A burglar or someone dodgy like that may very well take advantage o’ it. ‘s quite dangerous.”

Were you lying to yourself right now? No, you weren’t, and so you saw how he had changed. His chocolate curls were longer now, but still cropped around his ears. More rings claimed his fingers, and so did the ink all over his observable body. Self consciously, you wondered if the little train in his noggin was running on the same tracks.

“Reckon it’s also dangerous to just help yourselves into a girl’s window,” your reply sounds anything but firm like your words had implied, but you don’t. It’s a tie between whose lips begin to curl first, but secretly you hope it’s his, so that it means you’re closer to seeing those trademark dimples. “Harry,” it falls before you have the chance to reel it back in. In succession, your name drops from his pair. The ones you had always dreamt of, and according to your mums whenever they got the chance, you had kissed once or twice when the two of you were little. You couldn’t blame yourself, if you were telling the truth.

“Ya didn’t use t’ mind it,” he defends. Only now, do you allow your eyes to stray from that face you weren’t sure was real. Your prior wish is nudged at when you realize that he’s sitting in the same spot he always had been when you found him like this. Whether it was after school, when the moon was high in the sky, or after you’d ripped the curtains to the side, it was always the end of your bed where he sat.

You can’t help it, and you say something that you’ve been trying to for too long.

“Hare, that was almost ten years ago.”

It catches him off guard, just like the words had done in your mind, unspoken for so very long. On your one hand, you could count the number of times you had seen him since he walked on to that stage. Each one was less personal and more unfulfilling than the last, and you hoped undyingly with every fiber of your being that this time wouldn’t be. For once, you didn’t want him to disappoint you, but you couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t. If you tried and if you didn’t lie, you could think of one long ago, you could think of so many. You wanted this time to be different, and at the same time, you didn’t want him to be. No, you wanted him to be him. Your Harry.

“What do you want, twerp? Why are you breaking into my childhood bedroom at nine o’clock at night?” your questioning lips deal. No matter the itch you have, you can’t get your feet to move in his direction.

The fact couldn’t be more of a truth when you hear what he says, “Mum told me ‘bout yer engagement.” Without you knowing, your feet wander across the room and away from him. On your vanity, sits the gold band with diamonds of all sizes set into it. It was the very reason you had come home, but if you were being honest with yourself, it wasn’t the only one. No, that one was sitting behind you on your bed. The biggest one of all, for so very long. “‘m sorry.”

“What could you be sorry for?” your voice is still and rather quiet, but the feelings inside of you are the least bit that.

“Loads. That I didn’t congratulate you earlier, that I didn’t know ‘til now. You should’ve told me, ‘m really happy fer you. Congratulations t’ tha both o’ you, ‘d love t’ meet tha lucky man.”

All at once, words and emotions are flying at you, and you’re unable to make sense of them. First, you want to be mad. Then, you want to be sad. Is there a middle ground or a combination?, you wonder. “Well, you don’t need to worry about it, because I’m not getting married,” it had been the third time you had said a version of these words out loud. The bloke in question, of course, your mum, and now, Harry. You hadn’t thought that this was how it would be playing out.

“What?” hasty questions are riddled in his one breath. The images pass before your eyes until you tear them from the ring, but it doesn’t make them go away. Out of sight and out of mind didn’t really work for this one, you had found, or with this one over there, either. He had been in your mind more than he had ever been in your sight, you think. “Love, why not?”

“Well, Harry, marriage doesn’t really seem to be in the cards for me. I dunno why I ever thought it had,” you confess gently, as if you need to soften the blow for him, of all people. You weren’t sure if he deserved it anymore, even.

“What d’ya mean? That’s all you could jabber ‘bout when we were kids, and teenagers too. It was all ‘bout walkin’ down tha aisle and bein’ a mum . . havin’ four bloody kids, and no less. What were tha names, again? Avery, Margot, Henley, and . .”

“Jones,” your lips decide for you. “I’m surprised you could remember all of those.”

“‘s not hard when you’d already decided our kids’ names when we were only five, bubs,” he wheezes, a nostalgic happiness dripping off of his words, likened to honey. “You’d always insisted you’d marry me one day, and not let anybody else have me.”

The tears had come and went over the last few days, and once again, they had made their fateful return. Sometimes, you had wished that he could know how many multitudes you had shed because of him. For him. At others, if you thought with your heart, you knew that he shouldn’t know. He couldn’t.

“I remember it being the other way around. You said I’d be your wife one day, I didn’t have a choice in the matter.”

“A truth or a lie, love?” the saying brings your actions to a halt, making your eyes freeze on the bottle of contact solution just within reach.

“Truth.”

“I was sad t’ hear you’d broken yer promise t’ me when Mum had told me you’d gotten engaged,” this time, you’re not sure if his words are imaginary or actual. The feelings bubbling inside of you, demanding to be felt and then spoken, feel quite like the latter.

It was never ‘my mum’ between the two of you, because growing up it was as if the both of you had had two mums and a dad, or for Harry, two. Since the day he went away, she had never stopped being your mum either, and she reminded you with every card and text checking up on you. Sometimes, you’d wished she would just stop, but you didn’t know how to do that. You feared not knowing how to accept that if she had even agreed, if asked. She had spent countless times stroking your hair when you found your way onto her sofa, another sob on your lips from missing her son.

“‘s it shitty o’ me t’ say ‘m tha least bit relieved?” his next words come, and you can hear the sheepish tone in them.

“No, join the club.”

“Did he cheat on you? ‘Cuz if he did, I swear t’ high heavens that I-,” you stop him when his words become unnecessary, but after the ‘stop’ you utter, your lips falter.

How do you tell him that he’s the reason? The very one that led you to end the engagement with a man that was everything you had wanted and more, and yet, he wasn’t. Because, he wasn’t the man who stands behind you now. The exact one who at one time in your lives would walk around your gardens in nappies with you and nothing else. The boy you took baths with as a child, took naps with fighting over who got the Mickey Mouse blankey and the next day who got the Scooby Doo one. Try as you might, you couldn’t find a way or a time to tell your fiancée any of that, in all of the years you had been together, or even just the other day when he wrapped the ring back in your hand with wet eyes.

If you were even able to tell Harry that, how could you ever bring yourself to tell him what you’ve been holding inside of you for all of these years? You had tried again and again to forgive him for what he had done, but each time it had failed sooner than the last. What was to say that even if he was there in front of you, that one more try would work? How could you tell your lifelong best friend who wasn’t really your best friend anymore, who hadn’t been almost longer than he had, that you had never stopped loving him, but never stopped hating him for leaving you?

“No, he didn’t cheat on me. He was perfect . . but not for me.”

“‘m really sorry ‘bout that, love. Mum had good things t’ say ‘bout him afta meetin’ him and I trusted her.”

“Harry, like you ever approved of my boyfriends when we were in school,” you argue with a smile, not realizing you’re facing him until well, you are. His lips are smiling at you until they’re not, and it’s the furthest thing from your own, too. “You never liked any of them, and always were mean to them.”

“I rememba. Only gave ‘em a hard time ‘cuz there wasn’t one who treated you good enough, like you’d deserved,” if he sees the wetness collecting on your cheeks, he doesn’t mention it. His lips don’t, but his eyes do all of the talking, and more.

“Why are you saying all of this now, Harry?” it had been years in the making and there was no stopping it now. You couldn’t lie to myself anymore. No, not with the tears in your voice could you mask another one fed to his ears.

“Truth . . or lie?”

“I’m done playing games with you, Harry! We’re bloody twenty five years old, we’re supposed to always tell the truth. You promised all those years ago that you wouldn’t lie to me, and you did just that, Harry! How could you?” you feel the words swell inside of you, and you’re past trying to figure out how to get them to stop. He stares back at you with a face devoid of any inkling of understanding, telling you what you had always known, despite the lies you’d told yourself. “You left me, Harry! You forgot about me! Y-You went on that tv show and I didn’t exist anymore. How could you do that to me? We were the bestest of friends, ever since we were babies! I cheered you on, Harry. I was your biggest fan before anybody else, listening to your made up songs on guitar before we even started school. We wrote our own songs and we had our own band, The Brunette Bunch, with you on guitar and me on the keyboard . . I always knew you were a rockstar, because you were my favorite person in the entire world, Hare. But, you were there one day, and then you were gone. My best friend never came back after that . . I couldn’t count the hundreds of times that I’d hate myself for wishing that you’d never went on that show.”

“You were never very good at sharing me from tha start,” his words are sugar, perhaps the spice, and everything nice. So many still wait inside of you, left unsaid.

“I couldn’t do it, Hare. I couldn’t marry him, because of it.”

“Bubs, you left him ‘cuz o’ me?” his astonishment is vivid in your eyes and his, as well.

“You never did do that great in Lit, trying to make out what the books were trying to say,” your attempt is measly at a laugh, but amongst the glassiness in his eyes, you see an echo of it. “Twenty years later and I still can’t help but want nobody else to marry you.”

The dimples are home again and they make the same word resound inside of you, too. His steps are quiet but they speak volumes in your skull, and in your chest.

“Seems it was yest’day ‘d find you scribblin’ ‘Mrs. Harry Styles’ over and over in yer Comp journal, ‘stead o’ practicin’ cursive.”

“Oh, I was practicing my cursive still, just the important stuff,” this time, it’s the closest thing to a real laugh you've shared in days. It’s been years and more since the last time you’d heard one spill from his own, until now.

“Sure,” he titters. The soft padding of his Vans on the carpeted floor stops, but your heart tells you that it never will. There had been a lot of never’s that took up rent in your heart for too long now, but another one seemed to be turning to dust in front of your eyes. “Could never tell you how sorry I am fer leavin’ you behind, love. Never could, but I never fo’got you. Ev’ry time I called home I asked Mum how you were and what you were doin.’ At first, I couldn’t take the truth, and Mum didn’t want me t’ know, but I told her t.’ Y’know how she’d hug you ev’ry time you saw her? That was from me, told her t’ give you a hug from me ev’ry time I called, ‘cuz I hated that I couldn’t give you one . . I know ‘s no excuse and that it wasn’t anythin’ compared t’ yers, but it hurt too much afta awhile t’ see you when I came home. I wanted things t’ be the same again, but I couldn’t, knowin’ I was to leave again. But, y’know what, I never stopped. I asked Mum each and every call ‘bout you and made sure she told me ev’rythin.’ Saw photos o’ you graduate school without me, uni too, yer fiancée, passin’ yer driver’s test, movin’ t’ London, and at last, I got t’ send her one o’ when you came t’ that concert o’ ours a few back and saw me backstage. I never fo’got you, or stopped worryin’ ‘bout you, knowin’ how bad ‘d fucked things up. Just didn’t know tha first thing t’ do or say t’ fix ‘em.”

If you were dreaming all of this, you realized, you hoped that you wouldn’t wake up for a while still. You needed this to be real for just a bit more, maybe longer. Definitely, more.

“Truth or lie, Hare?” is all that your lips can utter at this point. You think that you made the right call when his lips sing with a laugh.

“Truth. Always, bubs.”

“Can I give you that kiss I’ve been sitting on for a good ten years, now?” it had been so long since your lips had curled with happiness because of him. Within moments, it feels like mere minutes since the days with your heads resting on each other’s shoulders with textbooks and Red Vines in your laps. Not much further, walking home with scraped knees reading Dr. Seuss to each other, either.

But, when his lips touch yours, it could feel like a million miles away, too. For the first time amongst your own lies and truths, you’re telling yourself the truth when you think that you’re glad that you’re here. Cradled against his chest and with his arm around your waist, you’re at last happy where you are, because it’s finally with him beside you again.

“Can I have a truth, bubs?”

“Sure, Hare. What is it?” you yawn, your forehead nudging against the sandpaper feel of his face. Quickly, you’d realized there were so many things you had to learn about him. You couldn’t be more excited to annoy his ears with questions.

“How set are you on that ‘never gettin’ married’ thing?”

With warmed cheeks and heart, at last, just the same, your smiling lips deal an answer you’ve held for too long.

“I’m still set on not letting anybody else marry you, if that tells you anything.”

In that moment, it had been the easiest it’d ever been to let yourself tell the truth. He’d changed and so had you, but he still smelled the same and felt the same and he was your same Harry, and your heart did too. It greeted him again as his lips did the same to your own, giggles shared underneath the covers like you’d been doing for years with him beside you.

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jadonsanhco · 3 years

Text

18th of April

alternative title: happy birthday badass bitch

for my dear friend emily @travellvogue

“Working on your birthday shouldn’t be allowed,” you thought to yourself as you stepped inside the house, where you had longed to be all day, exhausted from a full work day. Your birthday started off amazing – with breakfast in bed prepared by your lovely boyfriend, a dozen presents that were way too expensive for your liking though you loved them a lot, and several bouquets of the prettiest flowers from that florist down the street decorating every room in the house. “Only the best for my favourite girl,” Trent had said with a smug smile, having really outdone himself for your birthday this year and he was proud. Even though he knew you’d be happy with some lush bath bombs or some books (which were of course included in the presents as well) he couldn’t stop himself completely spoiling you on your special day.

After that great start to your day you had reluctantly gotten dressed in your work outfit, hopped in your car after a goodbye kiss from Trent and drove to your work for a full day of phone calls and meetings. Now that you were finally home, you couldn’t wait to spend the final hours of your birthday with your man.

“There she is!” Trent smiled at you, coming from the living room to greet you in the hall. “How was your day baby?” he asked, pressing a kiss to your lips and gently brushing one of his hands through your long hair. “Tiring. I missed you,” you mumbled, leaning closer again for another kiss, and another.

“Mmm I missed you too,” Trent smiled against your lips. “I told you, you should’ve taken the day off,” he added, quite disappointed he didn’t get to spend the entire day with you, but it was alright – his plans for tonight would make up for it. “I definitely will next year,” you giggled, definitely having learned from this mistake, knowing you would have enjoyed your birthday much more if you could have spent it at home with him instead of having to smile at everyone who wished you a happy birthday at work – you could have done without all the birthday attention. Besides, you had discovered that planning other people’s birthdays on your own birthday wasn’t exactly ideal either, seeing all the great plans you were putting on paper and in moodboards for strangers while you spent your day at the office.

“Well madam, to show you what you’ve missed all day, I have prepared something for you,” Trent smirked, making you raise your eyebrows at him. “Oh? And what is this something that you have prepared?” you asked, the night already starting to look promising. “That’s a surprise, you’ll see in a few minutes,” he winked. Of course it was. “I hate surprises, you know that,” you rolled your eyes, but you couldn’t help the small smile appearing on your lips.

“Trust me?” Trent asked and came up behind you, covering your eyes with his hands after you nodded. He led you through the house, making sure you wouldn’t trip or bump into anything, until you could feel a breeze on your face, the sliding doors leading to the garden being pushed open. “Mind your step here,” Trent said as you stepped outside, letting you go a little farther to the place he had prepared everything.

“3,2,1… Tadaaa,” Trent removed his hands from your eyes so you could see, a small table in front of you with food that looked delicious, table decorated with flowers and even the plates were all set in a fancy way he had seen you do on special occasions like Christmas and other family dinners. As you looked around the garden you noticed how pretty it looked, fairy lights decorating the trees, some lanterns hanging around the area as well, and there were even some white and pink balloons floating in the air that said “Happy birthday Emily”, the strings attached to the railing of the steps that lead up to a raised terrace in the back of the garden. The fire pit was on for some extra warmth since evenings in April were not quite warm enough yet to stay out for too long, though since the sun was only just starting to set you could still feel the warmth of the sunlight on your face.

“Did you do all this?” you asked Trent with a smile, turning around to see a proud grin covering his face. “Yes. Well… I have to admit, mum helped me out a lot, especially with the food,” he chuckled a bit, knowing that if he would have done the cooking all by himself it would probably be a takeout, but he wanted you to have the best homemade food possible and his mum happened to be a real chef, your favourite meal being one of her specialties.

“I love it, thank you,” you pressed another kiss to Trent’s plump lips before taking a seat at the table, Trent serving you your food before sitting down in front of you. “Bon appetit,” he winked at you and took a forkful of carbonara in his mouth. You ate in a comfortable silence, talking about your day a bit but you didn’t want to talk about work too much while you were enjoying your birthday dinner. Instead, you listened to Trent telling you all about how he and Di spent their day preparing for your birthday, cooking and decorating.

“I know it’s getting a bit chilly out now,” Trent said after you had finished your meals, “but I feel like only now the sun is setting you’ll really be able to appreciate what I did with all the lights.” You laughed a bit, but nodded your head, agreeing that you couldn’t go inside now dusk was finally setting in and the lights lit up the garden beautifully. You couldn’t let all his hard work go underappreciated.

“The fire should keep us warm, and I’ve got some blankets so we can cuddle.” You followed Trent to where he had set up some blankets and pillows, happily sitting down in front of him with your back leaning against his chest, his arms wrapped around you to both keep you warm and pull you as close as possible to him.

“I love you so much,” he whispered after a few minutes, both of you looking up at the stars as if you could try and find constellations, though you never really managed to. “I love you too,” you smiled, turning your head to give Trent a kiss before letting your eyes go over the stars in the sky again, more of them appearing the darker it got.

“I’ve got one more present for you,” Trent broke the silence again after a while. “Trent! You’ve spoilt me enough!” Trent laughed, having expected this reaction from you since he had already given you a bunch of presents before, but this last one was perfect to give to you right now.

“I promise it’s not something expensive or fancy.”

He stood up to go inside and get you your present. A shiver ran over your back from the loss of warmth, the cool air getting to you now you no longer had Trent’s body heat keeping you warm. Trent quickly returned with a gift bag in his hand, thin paper on top to cover up what was inside.

“You can look,” Trent smiled and sat down behind you again, the warmth radiating off him already protecting you from the chilly air better than the fire could. You reached your hand into the bag, your fingers touching soft fabric. A grey sweater was revealed when you pulled out your present, the material being so soft you instantly wanted to wear it and feel it on your skin. You held it up in front of you, the size definitely way too big for your body, and the sweater was just grey other than something small embroidered at the bottom of the sleeves.

“You know how you always steal my hoodies? I’m about to have none left since they’re all on your side of the closet, so that’s why I bought you this. It’s in my size, so it fits you the same as mine fit you. And my initial is on the sleeve so you can always think of me when you wear it,” Trent pointed out the small black T you noticed earlier.

“I’ve even put my cologne all over it already so it smells like me,” he winked, making you giggle a little, knowing one of the reasons you always wore his shirts was because they smell like him.

“Thank you, I really like it,” you smiled, pulling yourself out of Trent’s embrace a little so you could pull the sweater over your head, the soft fabric feeling so comfortable, and the scent of your boyfriend’s cologne making it even better.

“Thought it was perfect to give you this now so we can stay out here a liiittle longer,” Trent said and wrapped his arms around you once again, not ready to go back inside yet as he was enjoying spending time in the garden with you a lot. The doggies, that had been sleeping in the living room most the time, eventually came out for a cuddle as well, a bit afraid of the fire at first but they enjoyed being all close to you and wrapped up in blankets with you, happily continuing their nap outside.

You spent your night in such a simple way – dinner, cuddles, kisses, and just Trent’s company – but it was all you ever needed. You didn’t need a big birthday party or many visitors, you just needed Trent to make your birthday a memorable one. Even going to work earlier in the day couldn’t ruin it for you, and the idea of your and Trent’s families visiting later in the week was something to look forward to, but in that moment, cuddling by the fire with your little family, you felt happiest and more content than ever.

#trent alexander arnold #trent alexander arnold imagine #trent alexander arnold imagines #trent alexander arnold blurb #trent alexander arnold blurbs #trent alexander arnold fluff

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oohnoniall · 3 years

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The Lantsov Emerald [Kaz Brekker x OC] - Chapter Five (Anastasia)

Warnings: cursing, fantasy violence, family drama

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Escaping the palace had been the easy part. Nikolai had shown her all the secret pathways when they were children. They had played games with them. She'd always wanted to be the fairy while he was a pirate or some sort of scoundrel. She had remembered those childhood days fondly throughout her journey to Kribirsk. If she hadn't, she would have been forced to think about the pain in her feet and the fact that she had been foolish enough to not beg her father's permission.

At least then she would've had a carriage.

Upon reaching the city, she had paid handsomely for fresh clothes and lodging. She had bathed, scrubbing her skin raw, and dressed in a plain sky blue gown. She had attempted to plait her hair by herself, although it appeared messy and uneven. Anastasia had never known just how hopeless she was until she had gone days without a bath or her lady maids.

Nikolai would have been so disappointed in her.

She was fresh-faced when she came into the bar. Her cheeks were rosy and her eyes took in every single person in the crowded bar. She had thought enough to keep her traveling cloak. There was no telling what any of the patrons would do if they discovered that the princess of Ravka stood before them.

Years of dancing and lessons in how a princess should behave made her elegant. Even in the dusty, dirty bar, she strode forward as though she was on the dance floor. Each of her movements timed to the waltz of her heartbeat. She knew that her gait alone would be cause for attention. What simple maiden walked as though the ground was a dance floor? What young woman acted as though the world should bow before her?

Anastasia had not been around enough women to know what the answer truly was.

She felt eyes on her the entire time she ordered her drink. Kvas like Nikolai had drank with her before he had gone. She had gagged and refused to ever touch any again. The smell still made her wish to gag, but she had to keep up some appearance. She took the glass from the barkeep, thanking him with a small smile. Anastasia then turned her attention to the rest of the patrons of the bar.

Most of them were her subjects. They looked hardened, as though life had done them no favors. They had lines along their features that she had not seen amongst the nobility. They looked as though dirt had encased them their entire lives. Her heart ached for them. Was there nothing that she could do? She didn't have the power to change things. That power lived with her brothers. She would never be Ravka's queen.

Her eyes landed on a small group in the corner of the bar. A boy with dark hair and a wild grin was playing with a revolver, his fingers fiddling on the hammer as though he was waiting for a reason to use it. A girl in deep, navy blue clothes sat beside him. Her features hidden by a hood and her body was nearly as still as the breath that had caught in Anastasia's throat.

At the head of their table sat the guard from the ball. His eyes scanned the room, landing on her. She wondered how many times those eyes had stopped someone in their place. He seemed sharper than he had that night. The angles of his face were made of glass and were likely to cut her if she touched them. He was far too handsome for his own good.

Without thought of her safety, Anastasia headed over to the three of them. She felt as though she was vibrating, excitement coursing through her veins as she neared the table. The man had lied to her. He had snuck into her home. She would find out why. That would be a good enough reason for the last-ditch effort for freedom.

"Mr. Vanzin," she lowered her hood as she spoke, keeping her back to the other patrons. "I've been looking for you."

An amused smile graced her features as she looked down at him. He played off the idea of being at ease, his spine straight and his eyes glancing at her as though she were nothing more than a mouse. But his hands told a different story. The black gloves he wore could not hide the way he tensed. His fingers clenched in a fist that she was certain he would not use on her. He wouldn't dare to create a scene.

"Your Highness," he sounded bored as he regarded her. Anastasia was uncomfortably reminded of most of the people in the palace. "Had I known you were serious about seeing each other again, I wouldn't have left so quickly."

The Zemeni boy offered her a chair beside him. She did not like the grin that stretched across his lips. It was as though he was one of the big cats her nanny had told her about at bedtime. She took the seat nonetheless. This would not be the first time that she had found herself in a den of lions. She dined with monsters each night. She had danced with several the night she had met Mr. Vanzin.

"I'm afraid that I was curious about you, Mr. Vanzin," she crossed her ankles, every bit the picture of a perfect princess. Rasmus would be getting a beautiful bride. "After all, it's not every day that one manages to break into the Little Palace. Nor when a guard lies directly to my face."

"I assure you," his gaze could have cut through ice, "nothing about that night was personal."

"How could it be?" Anastasia's eyes sparkled with amusement. It was like she was verbally sparring with Niki once more. He danced around the questions he didn't want to answer, made her feel as though she would go mad half the time. "You didn't even tell me your real name."

The air surrounding them seemed to grow thick with tension. The girl's hands had disappeared underneath the table while the boy was rubbing the handles of his revolvers. Anastasia would not allow them to frighten her. She would not be afraid and she would not back down.

"You're clever, Princess," his tone was filled with venom. "You should be careful. That's a good way to get yourself killed."

"Is that a threat, Mr. Vanzin?"

"Only advice," he told her before he drank the glass of kvas that had been in front of him. His eyes were dark as he stared at her. Heat flooded her cheeks but she did not let it phase her.

Anastasia had been around princes and lordlings her entire life. She had been around beautiful men and around men who had assumed they were beautiful. She had never let them phase her. She would not let this conman get underneath her skin. Even if it did feel as though she were drowning when he looked at her like that.

"You'll forgive me if I don't take it," she said, praying to the Saints that the dim of the bar was hiding her heated face. "Now, why don't you tell me who you are?"

"So you can cart us off to a Ravkan prison?" It was a valid thought. Had she been any of the other members of her family, she more than likely would have called for help. But had she been anyone else in her family she wouldn't have had to run away from her future.

Nikolai got to be the scholar, Vasily the king. All Anastasia was good for was a high bride price and to be her father's favorite pawn. Her future had never been her own. It never would be.

"I assure you," she leaned forward, strands of her hair falling into her face. "I would not turn myself in just to give you up."

For a split second, his left eyebrow rose and an expression of confusion crossed his face. It was gone before Anastasia could blink. He wore his mask well. Almost as well as those in her court. Maybe he was like her. A royal running away from a future that did not exist.

"What do you mean?" The Zemeni boy piped up, his expression more confused than the other two. Although it was more amused than anything. "Turning yourself in just means you're in as much trouble as we are."

"It would appear that way, wouldn't it?" She glanced at him, an amused smirk playing on her lips. "My family plans to ship me to Fjerda on the eve of my birthday. I'll be wed to Prince Rasmus the week after," she knew they didn't need an explanation. Nor had they asked for one. However, she needed to say something. Needed to tell someone how angry she was about the entire thing.

Nikolai was gone. This band of criminals seemed to be the next best thing.

"You decided to leave your cushy palace and come after me as a result of your impending wedding?" His face remained impassive, something that she could not read. She hated that he wore the mask of a courtier. "I don't know if I'm impressed or insulted."

"I hope it's impressed," Anastasia kept her eyes on his, not daring to back down from the demon in front of her. "At least enough to allow me to know your name."

"It's Kaz," he did not tell her his surname. She supposed it did not matter in the long run. It wasn't as though she would be spending long with the man. He would more than likely give her up before she had a chance to find Nikolai. Before she had a chance to see the sea and feel the wind in her hair.

Anastasia wished for freedom. A caged bird sang a lonely song. The song in her heart wanted more than that. It wanted to be among the greats, among the waltzes that she had adored from childhood. She wanted to live her life as she chose. If only so she could spend every second of each day surrounded by the notes, feeling the melodies in her heart and the beats in her heart. It was not a dream that any of Ravka's nobility would have understood.

None but Nikolai.

"Kaz," his name felt rough on her tongue. The syllables were brutal and cutting. Just like the man in front of her. "Perhaps we could make a deal."

"What sort of deal would you offer?" His tone was indifferent but the spark in his eyes told her that he was at least intrigued.

"I want passage. My brother is attending university in Kerch. I wish to see him a final time before I leave. I will keep the guards off of your back," she said, keeping any passion or hope from her voice. Vasily had once told her that negotiating meant selling your soul. That having too much enthusiasm would give her opponent the upper hand. Maybe he'd had a point.

"We can avoid the guards without you, Princess," she hated the way he said it. Like it was an insult instead of her honorific.

"I can also offer payment," she said almost lazily. She slipped her hand into the pocket of her cloak, pulling out a ring that should not have been in her possession.

She tossed it onto the table. The emerald sparkled in the light, the face perfect in every way. The Lantsov Emerald had been the stuff of legend when she was younger. As she had grown up, she had realized that it was nothing more than just a pretty gem. One that her parents prized above all others, but a gem nonetheless.

It was supposed to go to Vasily's future bride, but Anastasia had found it unfair. She had stolen it from her mother's chest in the dead of night. Then, she had escaped using those secret passages. She had known the emerald would come in handy. Although she had assumed it would be used to prove she was the Princess of Ravka. Not payment.

Kaz looked at the emerald for a second before he looked back at her. "I'm listening."

"The Lantsov Emerald has been in my family for generations. It's Ravka's greatest treasure. I'm offering it to you for safe passage to and from Kerch. Also, protection while we're there. I'm willing to add three million kruge for you and your crew upon my safe return."

She doubted that her parents had that much money. Or that they would be willing to pay that much for their only daughter's safety. She was ruining their plans. But she didn't care. They would ship her off without her ever seeing Nikolai again. They would sell her before she had the chance to find herself.

Kaz looked at her, his gaze was unyielding and colder than the ice of Fjerda. She wondered if he had learned to be cold or if it had just come naturally to him. Was he a monster of a man? Or a man who had become a monster? There was a story there. Something that was hiding beyond his eyes, beyond the facade he painted on. The facade that she only hoped was a facade. She didn't know what she would have done had he admitted to it all being real.

"Do you expect any of this to be easy, Princess?" He questioned, watching her as though she held a dagger in her hand instead of a valuable emerald.

"No, quite the opposite actually." Anastasia was not an idiot. She knew they would have to cross the Fold, find passage on a ship, and prey to all the Saints that she was not followed by her parent's guards. She doubted they had even noticed her missing. The Sun Summoner disappeared at the perfect tie. She wouldn't have been able to slip away without the distraction.

"We'll have to wait for a skiff," Kaz sat up straighter, almost as if to intimidate her. She matched his posture, not daring to back down for a single second. "No one knows how long that might take. A ship to Kerch will be another question entirely."

"I assure you, Kaz," the name stabbed her throat, "I am prepared to stay as long as necessary. I will not go to Fjerda without seeing my brother."

"Your brother will not be easy to find. Do you know how many rich sons have been sent to university?"

"Nikolai will be quite easy for me to find." He didn't need to know that he would have an angry prince to deal with during all of this. Once Nikolai heard of her disappearance, he would be angry. He would claim she had no idea what she was doing. That she was being reckless and stubborn. That there had been no reason whatsoever for her to leave the safety of the palace. He would have told her that she was stupid for trusting a man who had broken into their home.

She would take every second of his tongue lashing. As long as it kept her from never seeing him again.

"I will have other business in Kerch," Kaz stated as he watched her. He was looking for any sign of weakness. She knew that he would try to betray her. He would see her as another piece on his chessboard. Just as everyone else had.

She was no longer willing to be a game piece.

"I'm quite aware of that," there was no reason for her to be the only job he'd take on. Even if she was offering more money than he'd probably ever see in his life. Money she did not know if she had. "Now, do we have a deal?"

He did not offer her his hand, unlike what she had seen other men do with her brothers. She didn't know if she was supposed to be offended by the slight or not. Surely it had more to do with how he felt about the deal than anything to do with her. That or her nails were in a worse state than she had previously realized.

"The deal is the deal, Princess." She wondered if she would ever hear anything else come from his lips. Would he call her by her honorific the entire time? Or would he loosen up? She didn't think it was important enough to complain about it. No matter how grating it was to hear him use it with nothing but venom in his tone.

Anastasia picked the ring up from the table, giving him a kind smile. "You'll get this once I've been returned to Ravka, safe and sound."

Kaz said nothing, just nodded his head as she stood from the table. At least he knew better than to fight her on when he would get his payment. It was probably for the benefit of her peace of mind. If she trusted him not to slit her throat, then maybe she would be less likely to put up a defense. She didn't know for sure.

"Enjoy your night," she told the three, giving them a curtsey. Her skirts flourished around her, almost making her wistful for a night of dancing underneath the stars. "I expect to see you here tomorrow."

"Of course," he nodded his head once, looking at his crew instead of her. She wondered if they thought she was all talk. Surely a princess would run from danger instead of towards it. She should have been trapped in her golden cage with her jewels and her grand piano that she was not allowed to touch. They would assure she'd change her mind before entering the Fold.

The look on his face told her everything that she needed to know. He may not have expected her to come after him, but he knew now to expect her to back out. To do anything other than what she had said. Surely he should have realized by now that Anastasia was a woman of her word. She'd found him. She'd stolen the greatest heirloom her family had and run away from home. She had done everything that no one would expect from her.

The same things they would expect from Nikolai.

The thought nearly blinded her as she stepped into the sunlight. Had she begun missing her brother so much that she had decided to act as though she were him? He would have told her that it was a waste of her own potential. He would blame himself for making her a mirror of him. It would be bad enough to have one of them roaming the streets of Ravka. They didn't need two.

But she knew that she was not like her brother. She didn't see the world as one big game that she had to win. She just wanted to dance, to feel the music filling her veins and speaking in it's beautiful secret language to her soul. She knew it was a silly wish, one that she would never truly get to experience. She'd have to marry a man she didn't love. She would have to dance only when it was appropriate. Anastasia would lock herself up for her country.

She just needed a chance to dance before she did so.

Kerch may have been known for it's criminal underbelly, but it was the only safe place for her. She would be far from whatever trouble the Sun Summoner was bringing. She would be able to find Nikolai. Anastasia would be able to yell at him for hours at a time for not writing her back as much as he should. She would be free for the first time in her life.

As long as she did not get her throat cut or held for a ransom it should be perfectly safe.

Anastasia headed back to her room. It was not safe to dawdle on street corners. She had no idea if her parents had discovered that she was missing. She had no idea if anyone would be out looking for her. Vasily wouldn't be. He had too much to do, too much to prepare for. The time for him to take the throne was almost upon them.

He had less time for his little sister than normal. She felt as though Nikolai had abandoned her. Perhaps this unwanted isolation had been the truth behind her desperate need to flee. Perhaps knowing that she was alone, and would be for the rest of her miserable life, had been what drove her to running as far as she could from the walls of her gilded cage.

She slipped up the creaky stairs, using the gentle creaks as though they were a melody. She craved music. Craved hearing the waltzes, the symphonies. She needed it as though it was oxygen. She needed to hear every beat, feel every note. Alas, her life would not go in that direction. She would sooner end up hidden behind blocks of ice than in a symphony hall. Especially after what she had done.

As the princess entered the room she had rented, she did not notice a figure standing silently in the corner.

She took off her cloak, tossing it down on a small chair in the corner of the room. Her back was to the silent woman, never once noticing her as she began to freshen up. The day was still long, the sun having only just hit the middle of the sky. She planned on actually doing something besides make shady deals in the back of a pub.

Anastasia lifted her face, water dripping from her eyelashes. She caught sight of the woman in the mirror, her spine instantly stiffening.

"Your Highness," her voice was soft as she stepped out from the shadows. "We've a lot to discuss."

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wallgirl · 3 years

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The Little Nereid Part 4

4400 words, part four of a nine part fanfiction (it just keeps changing tbh)

Poseidon x OC

Dynamene, youngest of the 50 Nereids, has lived most of her adolescence as a servant alongside her sisters at Poseidon’s palace. But with her coming-of-age birthday and other developments, what she initially thought was just admiration of her master blossoms into something stronger and more passionate… and painful.

Categories: Romance, angst, unrequited love, coming-of-age, earn-your-happy-ending; no NSFW content

---

It was nearly noon the next day when a gentle rap sounded on Dynamene's bedroom door.

"Dynamene, are you awake?" Actaea's hesitant voice came through the door. "You haven't been out all day. Are you feeling okay?"

Dynamene turned over from where she had wrapped herself up in her blankets. Her eyes felt like sandpaper after all the crying she had done the night before. "Everything's okay, Actaea. I just don't feel so well. I think I'm going to stay in bed today." She didn't have the energy to force herself to sound happier than she felt.

"Okay. The rest of us are going to go seaing this afternoon. If you're feeling better, you should come with. I'll let you rest now."

Dynamene's gloomy expression didn't change. "Okay. Thank you, Actaea."

Actaea's footsteps disappeared away from the other side of the door, and Dynamene buried her face back into her pillow.

After everything that she had heard last night, she couldn't bring herself to leave her room. She couldn't bear the thought of being out in the palace, pretending that everything was fine to her sisters, and chancing the possibility of having to face him. Here in her room, she could indulge in her misery without anyone else having to know. She sighed and sat up reluctantly, untangling herself from her bedding. With slow steps she crossed over to the window and drew the curtain back.

It was another day of fine weather; Hera's prediction had been right. The sun was shining as clearly as ever, and the birds and the ocean were following the normal routine; birds circling the beach for a meal, and the waves ebbing and flowing to the beat of the ocean's heart.

Dynamene pulled the curtain back over and wandered aimlessly to her boudoir, staring at her shadowed reflection. She looked every inch as miserable as she felt, and that just made her more upset.

What right did she have, honestly, to be so upset, especially after eavesdropping on a conversation not meant for her ears? She had done this to herself. She had taken the risk, knowing that whatever words that Poseidon and Hera exchanged could hurt her feelings, and now she was dealing with the repercussions.

As far as Poseidon's views on his connection with the Nereids... It wasn't like they were unexpected either. Dynamene had lived in his palace for a thousand years. Never once had they had a true conversation, or anything more than him giving orders and her acknowledging his demands. He was cold. He was unfeeling. He was a god so far removed from the feelings of other beings, even those of other deities and supernatural beings, that no one else dared to approach him. She was starting to realize that maybe they had the right idea in staying away.

Why had someone as despicable as him been on her mind so much in the first place?

"What are you doing to yourself?" She asked her reflection in disappointment. "You're not a child anymore. You can't just keep sulking in your room, especially when you've brought your misery on yourself. You're going to worry your family." She sighed and returned to her bed, burying herself back under the covers. She would get some more sleep, then she would take a warm bath and face the world again. Everything would be fine. It would just take a little time.

Meanwhile, Actaea had returned to the room where the other sisters were setting up for lunch, and where Ianeira was waiting with a troubled expression.

"Is she alright?" Ianeira asked as Actaea approached.

"To be quite honest, I'm not sure," Actaea sighed. "She sounded completely lifeless when I spoke to her. She said she wasn't feeling well, but we all know that's a lie. She's been acting strange since her birthday."

"More specifically, once we received word that Hera was visiting." Ianeira took a moment to ponder. "Do you think Lady Hera might've said something privately to her last night?"

"What cause would she have had to speak to her? They're barely acquainted. She gave Dynamene her blessing in front of all the rest of us with no problem. And as far as I know, Dyna has done nothing to provoke Lady Hera's ire."

"Maybe it's far-fetched, but... What about Lord Poseidon? You remember how she ran from his rooms; that look in her eyes. Do you think..." Ianeira's words halted, and she gave a sharp inhale of realization. Her eyes snapped up to meet her sister's. "Actaea..."

Actaea gave her a knowing look and leaned closer. "I'll tell you this in confidence," she said lowly. "She was worried about the subjects that Hera might broach with Poseidon when she came. I'll give you one guess as to why."

Ianeira exhaled deeply. "I've been blind."

"Oh, come now. It's only become more noticeable this past decade or so, dearest older sister," Actaea sighed impatiently. "Dynamene isn't a child anymore, after all."

"I know. It's just..." Ianeira pursed her lips. "Perhaps I didn't want to believe it. I guess I wanted to believe that it was just a healthy sense of fear making her act the way she's been."

"That may have been the case in the past, but it seems things are changing rapidly."

"He wouldn't. We know he wouldn't."

"I'm sure Dynamene knows that as well. That doesn't often sway the heart, unfortunately. We'll have to keep an eye on things; all of us."

"I agree," Ianeira nodded somberly. "For Dynamene's sake."

"For Dynamene's sake."

They exchanged a meaningful look once more before joining the rest of their sisters at the table.

It was many hours later that Dynamene finally woke up. Stretching slowly, she looked over at the curtain-covered window. No more sunlight was filtering through; the room was nearly completely dark. It seemed she had managed to sleep the rest of the day away.

She stood on the cold marble floor, giving one last stretch and a rousing shake of her head before crossing to her dresser for clean clothes. Her sisters had almost certainly left and returned from their seaing excursion by now. Dynamene squinted at the clock on her boudoir. It was well past the afternoon now; the last of the sunset was probably fading over the horizon.

Clad in fresh robes, she left her room and quietly made her way through the palace towards the kitchens. She could hear her sisters conversing and enjoying their free time in various rooms as she passed, but she crept by as best she could without notice. She was feeling more like herself now, but she still wasn't ready to be bombarded with the questions her sisters would undoubtedly have.

After fetching an apple from the pantry, she emerged from the palace and made her way down to the beach. A gentle ocean breeze brushed the stray hairs back from her face, and she smiled lightly at the scent of the seawater. No matter her troubles, she would always be able to count on the ocean to wash them away.

She chose a spot next to a group of tide pools to sit, tucking her peplos beneath her and gazing out at the vast, black ocean. She imagined her worries being washed away by each drag of the waves, pulling them from the sand and casting them out into the unknown.

"Dynamene, Dynamene," soft voices came, and she looked down at the tide pools. A few fish that had been trapped within were swimming about in tidy circles. "What troubles you?"

Dynamene smiled sadly. "Nothing, little friends. I hope I'm not disturbing you."

"Never. We're always glad for the company of a Nereid," they answered, their scales shimmering faintly in the moonlight.

Dynamene watched them warmly. All Nereids, as spirits of the sea, had the ability to communicate with sea life. In return, the sea life held them in high regards, considering them protectors and ambassadors of the ocean and all within. "You know," she ventured, drawing her knees up to her chest. "The gods of Olympus are mysterious, even to those who've known them for a millennia. Do you think that, maybe, they're just so far removed from other beings that it's impossible to form a connection with one?"

"The gods of Olympus are proud to a fault," a minnow responded. "They justify their actions with empty motives, chasing pleasure and recognition just as any mortal."

"You see, the gods have the same minds as mortals, but they trick themselves into thinking that their supernatural gifts have made them entirely different beings," a tiny crab added, crawling out of the pool to rest upon her foot. "They are just as infallible as humans, and in many ways much more destructive, especially to themselves."

"Mm," Dynamene hummed thoughtfully. "Thinking back now on all my experiences with the gods... Your words strike me as true, friends." She considered the waves for several moments. "You're right. I guess even with their power... They are just people with faults like anyone else." She lifted her hand, guiding a little stream of water from the ocean to the tide pool. "Thank you for your insights. Here you are; you can return to the ocean now."

The sea life that had been confined to the tide pool took advantage of the stream to return to the sea, their little voices thanking her many times over.

Dynamene sighed and leaned back on her arms, taking a few minutes to absorb the wise words the animals had shared with her. It all made sense; so much so that she began to wonder if, deep down, she hadn't had the same suspicions about the gods all along. Of course, in a position like hers, as a servant to one of the top three, such thoughts could be perilous to acknowledge. Keeping them tucked away to herself was the safe choice.

A strange shift in the air made her start. She quickly righted herself and turned around, feeling a presence approaching.

From the base of the stairs approached a familiar figure, a sight that she found her heart both leaping at and shirking from.

Poseidon was walking towards her, the moonlight casting a white glow on the side of his body not shadowed by the rocky bluffs. The points of his trident caught the moonlight on their sharp edges. His expression was somber.

No; as he came closer and Dynamene could make his face out more clearly, she saw it was one of anger. Him seeking her out at this hour with such an expression quickly made it clear as to why he was here; he must have found her out.

She scrambled to her feet and backed away towards the ocean, the cold water lapping at her feet. "Lord Poseidon," she ventured in a small voice hardly audible over the waves. "I didn't expect to see you out here so late..."

He halted ten feet from her. The breeze from the waves caught the white wrap that flowed from his waist, its waving fabric juxtaposed against the sharp silhouette of his body. His hair was lightly tousled from the wind as well, that stray lock of hair that had always captured her attention blown back from his face.

Now she was seeing him as he was. A beautiful, terrible, apathetic man with no warmth to spare nor kindness to show. His beauty was as empty as his soul, and in that moment, she hated him for it.

Her resentment lit an indignant fire in her veins that gave her a surge of courage. She hated him enough that she did not fear him, and she met his gaze full-on, her back straightening, hands loose at her sides.

"It seems you have overstepped the boundaries that servants under a god should observe," he said. In the shadows, his eyes were dark and cold, reminding Dynamene of an obsidian pendant Thoe had once fawned over.

"Eavesdropping is treason," he stated simply. "A betrayal of the faith a master should be able to have in his servant."

"I have, my lord. I give you no pretenses, nor excuses," Dynamene responded, her gaze falling slightly.

"It is," Dynamene whispered. She looked back up at Poseidon. No matter how she felt about him in the moment, she couldn't ignore the twinge of guilt that she still felt at having broken the trust he'd had in her.

Wait, trust? Faith?

What did he know of such things?

"I will heartily accept any punishment you dole to me, Lord Poseidon," she said softly, eyes still searching his face. "But I wonder if you could shed some light on a lowly sea-nymph like me."

His expression changed slightly at that. He remained silent, though, and Dynamene took it as permission to continue.

"You see, I have to wonder... Did you really have faith in me, in the truest sense of the word?" She whispered, clasping her hands to her chest.

These words seemed to have rather blindsided Poseidon, because he blinked. Something told her that this was not something he'd ever considered. Before this moment, he'd never had to. Then his brow furrowed; not in anger, necessarily, but in concentration. No matter what answer he gave, it would be wrong. He could not say yes; if that were the case, he would not hold meetings with his siblings in privacy. He could not say no; he had let his guard down and allowed the possibility of someone eavesdropping to become a reality.

"Because I've always had faith in you, Lord Poseidon," Dynamene continued, her knuckles white from how hard she was clutching her hands together. She could hardly get the words out. "I have always trusted you, and believed in you. I would blindly follow you to the ends of the Earth and jump off if I thought you wanted it; If I thought you expected it. I am a fallible being, just a sea-nymph. I could never reach the standards that I know you hold your fellow gods to. But I'd like to think that, maybe, in some point over the millennia I have served you..." She took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "Maybe, though I've now broken your trust, you had some faith in me, even as your lowly sea-nymph servant."

She prepared to be smited. One blow of his trident was all it would take to end her life, and she was braced for it. An ineffective servant was one Poseidon had no need of. Her fate was inevitable, and she apologized silently to her sisters. I'm sorry I failed you.

But the moments went by, and still Dynamene's heart continued to beat.

Once a minute had nearly passed, she slowly opened her eyes.

Poseidon was no longer looking at her, but at the ocean. The trident had vanished from his grip. His expression had returned to one of indifference, but there was something turning in his eyes. She knew he was deep in thought, but about what, she had no idea.

"The ocean," he began rather slowly. "It is the driving force of all life. As a Nereid, you know this."

She blinked at him in amazement.

"I am the master of it. No one knows the water, or the life within it, as well as I do. This is the way it has been, and this is the way it will always be." His gaze slowly shifted back to her. "Everything that happens concerning the ocean, from the ebb of the tide to the respiration of the fish... I feel it all." He turned to face her head-on once more. "Come here."

She cautiously stepped forward, captivated by his words despite herself. She had no idea what to expect next.

He continued to look down at her. "You Nereids are part of the ocean. The personification of the water's soul. As such, I can feel your presence as well."

Dynamene's heart skipped a beat. Was this how he knew that she had been listening in on his conversation with Hera?

"Even in this, your humanoid form, seawater flows through your body." He reached out and took her hand, and Dynamene immediately tensed up from the unexpected contact. She could feel that strange electricity coursing through her veins once more. "Every time your heart beats, I can sense it." His fingers lingered on her wrist, and she could feel her pulse pressing against his skin. His hand was large, much bigger than hers, but the fingers were rather long and graceful, and she could feel faint calluses from wielding his trident on his palm.

For the first time since she'd met him, he seemed like a real flesh-and-blood being.

Dynamene stared at him in shock. Then came a jarring and humiliating realization. Every time her heart had pounded in his presence, all the times her heart had skipped a beat from his gaze, and that moment when he had handed her the bracelet and she thought she might faint... He knew them all. Now it made sense, the way he'd stared at her after gifting her her present. He could hear her heart beating fast in excitement.

He could hear her feelings for him.

She was so embarrassed. How could she have been so foolish as to think she could ever hide the way he made her felt? It had to have been written all over her face as well. She felt her face prickling with humiliation, and she looked down at the pebbles washed ashore by the waves. Maybe she really was still a child after all.

Poseidon released her hand and said nothing. They remained standing there, unmoving, as Dynamene slowly forced herself to gather her wits and say something, anything. A sudden question came to mind.

"Then..." She said, swallowing the crack in her voice. "You're a being of the ocean to some extent too, right? If you're so deeply entwined with it... How come I can't... hear your presence? Is it because seawater doesn't run through your veins as well?"

"You can, if you have enough power and practice. As a Nereid, you should be able to." This time, he held out his own hand.

Dynamene stared at it hesitantly before reaching out and gently grasping it. The moonlight turned the backs of their hands, one big, one small, the same pale hue. Poseidon closed his eyes, and she followed suit.

For a moment, she felt nothing. She concentrated, searching for something in the darkness...

Then she found it. A steady beat, just like any other man's, strong and constant. And along with his heartbeat was something more. No... much more. The more she focused, the more she sensed. She could feel the rumbling of the ocean's currents and see all the sea life flickering by. She felt the heat from the thermal vents deep down on the ocean floor, and smelled the algae and seaweed that had washed up on shore. It was as if he was a conductor for all the energy in the ocean, and their physical connection was wiring it through to her.

The man she'd thought was completely empty was teeming with life force, not just that of his own, but of that of every being in the ocean.

Shocked, she opened her eyes. He slowly opened his as well, staring at her. "That is but a fraction of what I can sense. It's only this strong from a certain distance, but that's all that's necessary. Nothing around me escapes my notice."

The knowledge of all this was a lot for Dynamene to take in. Her eyes darted back and forth, as if searching for something to help her absorb and make sense of all this. Was this what he was really thinking about during all those moments that he seemed to be staring off into space? No wonder he was prone to leaving suddenly and without explanation. Since he could sense what was going on nearby in his watery realm, he knew when there was conflict before anyone else at the palace did.

"All this means you must've been able to tell I was there while you were speaking to Lady Hera," Dynamene whispered, staring down at their clasped hands. "But I... I don't understand. Why didn't you make it known then, that you knew I was listening?"

Poseidon didn't respond, instead scrutinizing her face. As much as she knew that she should release his hand, she couldn't bear to let go just yet.

"There was no need to cause a scene." His gaze had shifted back to the ocean. "My bull-headed sister is troublesome enough without dealing with her rage at an errant servant."

Dynamene's face turned pink with embarrassment, but she had to concede that much to him. It was true. "Then... I have to thank you," she whispered. He looked back into her eyes once more, and she found herself drinking in the sight of those beautiful eyes. It was true that they were dark and cold and distant, but now she had begun to see something else within them. Now, it was as if he was truly seeing her. No longer was he looking through her, like a meaningless ghost. His eyes were fixed on her own, acknowledging her and listening to what she had to say. And the more she stared, the deeper she found herself falling into them, as if they were an ocean in themselves.

Falling, sinking, further and further...

"If Hera had known that I was there, I'm sure she wouldn't have been nearly as forgiving," Dynamene murmured, trying to break free of the spell he'd unknowingly cast on her. "And I'm guessing you haven't told her at all, as I'm still standing here and not dead or turned into some hideous creature."

"Telling her would do no good. I don't desire anymore damage done to my palace. The balcony was enough," he said flatly. "And I know you and the rest of the Nereids are no fools. You know why my sister visits."

Dynamene's heart fell once more at the mention of Hera's motives. "Yes, I must say we have figured it out," she mumbled.

"Tell me this. If you know why Hera comes, and what we talk about, why did you feel the need to listen in?" He inquired. His eyes drilled into her.

Her gaze fell back to the ground, and her blush deepened. As if you don't know... Then again, perhaps you truly don't. But... Please don't make me say it.

"Dynamene!" A familiar voice called out, echoing from high above the rocky bluffs.

She jumped and quickly turned towards the source of the voice, letting go of Poseidon's hand. "Actaea? She must have gone to check on me and realized I was missing..."

"You've been out here long enough," Poseidon responded. "It's getting late; return to the palace now."

Dynamene looked back at him, with his moon-bleached hair drifting about his eyes, and was reluctant to follow his words. Of course this would happen just as she had finally seen through the impenetrable wall he always kept up. She wanted to stay, even if just a moment longer. She wanted to talk to him and continue to get to know him. She wanted to keep learning just what went on in that closed mind of his. She wanted to keep listening to the calm, stoic cadence of his voice. She wanted to take his strong hand once more and feel his heartbeat, just as he could feel hers. No, she wanted to step closer and bridge the gap between them, pressing herself to his chest and listening to his heartbeat as close as she could get.

She wanted to stay here forever, just the two of them on the beach in the calm, black night, her looking at him and he, at long last, finally looking back at her.

Her feelings had for him had returned, but now they felt different. No longer did the sensations that they caused scare her. Now she just wanted more, more than she could take in. She wanted to feel this connection to him always.

"Dynamene! Are you down there?" Actaea's voice had gotten closer now; she must be descending the steps to the beach.

Poseidon turned away to look out at the vast darkness of the ocean and sky. Without quite knowing why, or what she expected to come of it, Dynamene reached quickly for his hand one last time. She saw his gaze flicker towards the movement...

But she couldn't bring herself to complete the gesture, and she drew her hand back just as quickly as she had reached out. Before she could bring herself to regret her withdrawal, she turned back towards the stairs and began the careful ascent over rock and sand towards them.

"Dynamene! There you are." Actaea emerged from the valley with a lantern in one hand, relief all over her face. "I went to check on you before bed, and you weren't there. I was afraid you'd..."

"No, no, I'm just fine, Actaea," Dynamene answered quickly, putting her hands on her sister's shoulders. "I was just taking in the night air. I'm feeling a lot better now, so you don't need to worry. I think I just needed some time to decompress for a bit."

"Good, I'm glad to hear it," Actaea sighed, embracing her younger sister. "We've all been concerned for you. If a night stroll on the beach is what you needed to feel better, then you're free to stroll as late as you want."

"Actually, I was just about to turn in for the night anyways. It is getting late," Dynamene continued rather shyly, remembering Poseidon's order. "Should we go back together?"

"That sounds fabulous," Actaea smiled, smoothing back Dynamene's bangs. "After you."

Dynamene returned her smile with the same old brightness that she'd recently lost, before continuing back up the stairs.

Actaea stared after her for a second before setting down the lantern and turning back to dismount the last few stairs to the beach.

Poseidon's figure hadn't moved as he continued to watch the waves roll in and out. Actaea's face stiffened, but she remained still and silent. She continued to watch the god for a moment, thoughts churning, before taking back up the lantern and following her youngest sister's lead back to the palace.

---

Author’s notes: This chapter definitely took me the longest of any thus far. I ended up rewriting some paragraphs because I found myself going off track from my original vision. I had a “wait, wtf are you writing here” moment, which I guess was ultimately necessary to get myself back on track.

So Poseidon isn’t such an empty person after all? maybe Man, all it takes is a hint of brooding vulnerability and the teenage girls come running lol I don’t mean to slander Dynamene, she’s just a girl having her first love and not knowing what to do about it. Things aren’t much easier when your first love is fuCKING POSEIDON

Anyways, how old is Dynamene? Good question. Nereids age at a rate of about 145 years being equivalent to 1 human year. Dynamene was the equivalent of about a nine year old when she came with her sisters to the palace. She’s close to 16 in human years now, so she was probably born around 2300 years prior to this fanfiction. Imagine living that long and still not being full-grown 😭😭😭

Dynamene’s oldest sister, Ianeira, is physiologically equivalent to a human 25 year old, so she would be about 3600 years old. Talk about an age gap between siblings!

#record of ragnarok #poseidon x oc #record of ragnarok poseidon #poseidon #shuumatsu no valkyrie #fanfiction

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pl-panda · 4 years

Text

The vines that bind us - Chapter 7

Chapter 1 || Previous || Next

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After double-checking with security, it turned out that Tim Drake did not show to work. She sighed. Looks like more work for her… Just like Nathalie said.

She started by greeting the two plants in Mr. Drake’s office. Both were incredibly satisfied with themselves that they earned bigger pots. They were also even happier to see her. Next, she took care of her new plants. The two on her desk she quickly took a liking to. They were cute. Only the large plant that now stood in the corner next to the vent was snarky and dared to make an inappropriate comment about one of the office plants. The hole in that leaf was caused by a bullet thank you very much. Mari quickly and clearly explained where it made mistakes.

With that done, she got to the paperwork that was left on her desk. There were many things to be done before the lunch break.

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Chloe was giddy the whole day. She got a green light to deal with the Liar in any way she wished. So many plans. So many possible revenge options. So many lawsuits to be filled. But as she was walking to the cafeteria, a new, even more devious, plan formed in her head. She would need the help of a certain stuck-up brat, but if she got him to help, it would not only destroy Lila but utterly ruin her. She already had several ideas from her other schemes that could be adjusted. Oh, this would be glorious if only she found… there!

Damian Wayne was not having a good day. He was in fact having a really, really bad day. His father had forbidden him from bringing another sword to work until his previous one is returned. Given how efficient the GCPD is, he would be lucky to get it before thirty. He was the only one of his brothers to arrive at WE before lunch, which led to more irritation. He definitely hated the corporate gossip about one Marinette Dupain-Cheng. How she was awesome, how she was a 'bamf' (whatever that meant), or how much they adored her kind-but-still-no-nonsense attitude. She took his sword!

“Wayne.” An irritating voice came from behind. Damian was of course aware that someone was behind him but dismissed it as an employee doing something unrelated to him.

“Bourgeoise. What the heck do you want from me?” He spat

“To show you something.” She pulled her phone from the pocket of her jacket. He quietly admired how she found female clothing with pockets that deep. At the same time, he kept frowning at her.

“I swear, if it’s…” He didn’t finish, because she pressed ‘play’ and the video started. The whole thing laster about seven minutes. With each passing moment, his frown deepened and by the end, Chloe wondered how can he see anything when his eyes narrowed to two tiny slits.

“I. want. her. dead.” He seethed through the clenched teeth.

“Good. But we can’t kill her. Mari forbid it and I know your father isn’t exactly fond of killing.”

“Tt. What. do. you. want?” He pronounced each word clearly.

“Simple. Destroy her with her own words.” She pointed to the group where she was clutching to Adrien’s arm for her dear life. “Mari-bear is too moral to play with her lies like that. Us? We play to win.”

“Fine. But I want my sword back.”

“Clever boy. I knew you could break into an evidence room.” Chloe smiled. “They returned it cleaned of blood the same afternoon. Guess you were too late.”

“Tt.”

“Fine. I will get your precious sword. But if you try to mess with Mari…”

“I got enough of it from my father.” He scowled.

“Good. Now, onto the plan.”

---------

Mari didn’t come to eat lunch with Chloe. She was perfectly aware that the girl would start one of their plans and wanted to have an alibi. Instead, she dived into the paperwork that had to be done as soon as possible. It was going on good and if she dealt with it before the day’s ended, she would have time to try searching for her mother in the evening. She even inquired with the City Hall about the ownership of their old apartment and the answer should be coming any moment now.

She was broken out of her concentration by a scream of rage and frustration.

--------

A few moments earlier

Damian stalked toward the group of teens that were relaxing from their intern duties. He could clearly see the Liar clutching to Agreste boy like a leech. Perfect for their plan.

The boy had to agree that what Blonde concocted was both deviously brilliant and brilliantly devious. A perfect opening play. He made sure that he looked flawless before suddenly ‘appearing’ behind Lila and Adrien.

“How could you?” He asked in an emotionless voice. His face was showing only traces of sadness. Just like he would look if it was for real.

“Who are you?” She asked dismissively.

“Really Lila?” He asked, allowing a small amount of water to appear in his eyes. It was not like him to cry at all, but his mother taught him all useful ways of emotional manipulations and tears were all the way on top of that list. “After all these years, our relationship meant so little to you? I specifically got this trip so we could reunite and you are just… hanging off of some french model?”

“Listen here you…” She was interrupted when Chloe stormed, her heels clicking loudly around the cafeteria. Conveniently, everyone removed themselves when they saw Damian stalking toward intern-bitch. Speaking to police two days in a row is not a pleasant experience.

“Wayne. What’s the mess here.”

“Tt. You were right. She is a harlot.”

“Wayne?” Alya asked with wide eyes.

“Yes. You have the questionable experience of meeting a pissed Damian Wayne. My poor cake…” She moaned.

“Would you let that go, woman!?” He asked. This time he had no need to play his emotions. Bourgeoise never forgave him and Drake that Cake incident and it grated on his nerves. He paid her back.

“It was my birthday!” She raised her hands up. “And you are all idiots. Lila kept telling you how great her relationship with Damian was. And yet she is hanging off of Adrien, sinking her claws into his arm. I think the English expression was… I swear I read a book about it. Something with red A…” She pressed a finger to her lips, acting like she was trying to remember. “Ah! Scarlet Woman.” She grinned. “That’s what you are, Lie-la. A scarlet woman using men to get what you want.” That was vicious even for Chloe. Adrien took the opportunity to push the fuming girl away and get back. He could admire the chaos that was about to happen very soon.

To their surprise, Lila calmed herself and giggled.

“ah! Silly Dami-boo! I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings. I thought we were always just friends. It must’ve been one big misunderstanding”

The people around started to nod their heads, accepting what she said as plausible. Damian Wayne wouldn’t be the first to get the wrong idea. At least until their phones buzzed. Chloe was smirking.

“Misunderstanding? This declarations of love say something different though. I seem to remember there was even some talk about a ring.”

Lila checked her phone and her eyes went wide. There were messages that looked like from her. That witch even replicated her speech pattern. It was much better forgery than what she did with Maribrat.

“Lila?” Nino stared at her in disbelief.

“I’m disappointed. After all this time together.” Damian shook his head. He pulled a small bracelet off and tossed it at her. “Consider this a break-up.”

Chloe smiled. “So you are free now.” She asked him. Damian saw the predatory grin and felt a sudden need to run. But he knew that the witch was not yet destroyed.

“Yes…”

“What say I concede that the cake incident was entirely Drake’s fault. If you take me for a coffee after work?”

Damian gave a distraught Lila a look of hatred. Then, he turned back to Chloe.

“I would like that. Does 4:30 pm works for you?”

“I should be free by then.” She smiled. “It’s a date.”

With that, she left with Damian toward the elevator. Lila had enough of it and stormed to the bathroom. Soon after that, a shriek of frustration filled the building. Since it sounded like the bratty intern, nobody cared enough. The class was not allowed to leave their posts, not that too many of them wanted to be near Lila at the moment. They had many things to think about.

Damian and Chloe sat in the Law department, both having a satisfied grin. It was totally worth it.

“Just to be clear. I still hate you.” He said to her.

“Same here.”

“To the Liar’s fall.” They raised a cookie each and bit in. Most people that saw them had to check again because the Ice Prince was actually hanging around someone his age.

--------

Mari managed to record the shriek and now used it as Lila’s ringtone. It was a nice mid-day surprise that brightened her day. It lasted all beautiful hour until Marleen White, the head of PR, started knocking on the elevator, demanding to see her. Given her state and that she didn’t even call, it was something urgent. Mari quickly let her in.

“We have a huge problem.” She tossed a folder full of pictures on her desk. There were prints of chat screens with various dates. The content was most troubling.

“I assume someone leaked it to the press?” She shrugged.

“How can you be calm? It’s a disaster!”

“They are fake.” Mari shrugged again.

“Fake?”

“A. That’s not Lila’s number on any of her four mobile phones. B. I have no idea who made it, but they have no idea how Damian Wayne acts. It’s straight up the same bullshit she will be facing a lawsuit for once the Law Department gets through the tons of paperwork. And C. This is an American number. Lila had no way of getting it three years ago. Plus the timing is too perfect. She gets punishment from the company and then the scandal with her dating youngest Wayne gets out. Whoever made it settled on fast, not precise.” Mari circled things on the prints.

“So it’s all fake?”

“I suspect she wanted revenge on the company for the extra work I had her be assigned.” Mari grinned at the memory of the shriek. “Or, someone’s doing it in her name.” For a moment her thoughts wandered to Chloe. She would have to speak to her soon.

“We will deny it and post all of the details you highlighted. The tabloids might still latch on it.”

“To be honest, I think it will be better than being dragged through the mud for the deaths. Especially since there was no story attached. Personally, I can’t care less about celebrity romance.” She dismissed the concern. It pained her a bit to speak about the dead in such a dismissive manner, but through the day she slowly absorbed that it was not her fault. She couldn’t blame herself. That’s what Marinette would do. Marinette was left in Paris by the irritating classmates and had her luggage (full of Adrien’s cheese-stinking socks) sent to India or somewhere.

“That’s… quite a good idea. I assume you will want this forwarded to the Law department to add to the lawsuit.”

“No point. It’s fake and we have no proof who leaked it. I’m plenty certain we have nothing or that person would already be sitting in HR.”

“The IT is looking into it, but they have little hopes. It went through an external server that we can’t get access to legally. Whoever leaked it was smart enough to avoid easy detection.”

“Good. By the way, what about that statement?”

“I sent it to your email.”

“I see it. I will read it and send you eventual suggestions.”

“Sure. It’s nice to have someone competent in place.”

“I thought Mr. Drake was quite a good CEO. He got this company from the hole back to the top?” She tried to remember what she knew about Wayne Enterprises and Wayne Tech

“Yeah, but he is… eccentric. And can disappear at weird times for hours only to then work through three days without sleep”

“Oh. And Sarah was unhelpful?” Mari winced, remembering her own runs when the deadlines approached and she realized she spent the whole week constantly fighting Akumas.

“She was good with people, but…”

“I get it.” Mari smiled. “Luckily, I have experience with babysitting.”

Both women cackled at that.

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

Once Marleen was gone, Mari quickly called Chloe’s phone. The girl picked up almost immediately. She was speaking to someone.

“I hope I’m not interrupting your work?”

“Don’t worry Mari-bear. I was just speaking with my newest side-kick.”

“Tt. I’m not a sidekick!” A voice came from next to her. Mari tried to resist the urge to facepalm. Chloe tilted the phone to show a pouting Damian Wayne.

“Shut up Sidekick. I’m the mastermind behind our plans.”

“And I pay for them with my image and sanity.” He replied.

“Hush you! I will let you know that some people would kill for the opportunity.”

“Tt. Right now I want to kill someone.”

“Har har. So funny, are you?”

“As much as I enjoy watching you two flirt… Get a room.” Marigold joked, watching both of them blush red. Before either had a chance to attack her for implying anything, she continued. “Chloe. Did you per any chance fabricated and published texts between Damian and the Liar?”

“Wait! That bitch actually published it?”

Mari facepalmed. She could feel the headache coming. In the hindsight, maybe it would’ve been better to just fire Lila’s sorry ass, together with the rest of the bunch. She could easily have Adrien and Chloe hired on some less permanent deal. They could both do without school for a while.

“Tt. Now I will really need my blade. Please tell me that nobody believed it?” Damian asked, frowning.

“You’re in luck. Madame White caught the wind of it quick enough. She will be making a swift statement that this is an attack on your person and the image of Waynes as a whole. Plus publishing a detailed analysis of why it couldn’t have been you.” Bluenette reassured him that his precious reputation would not take any great hits. Or not too great of a hit at least.

“Good. Jon wouldn’t let me live it down.” He sighed in relief.

“Now, Chlo. You know I love and support your deviousness, but please try and limit the civilian casualties of your future plans.”

“Fine. I can’t promise Lila’s retaliation to follow the same rules.” She huffed.

“Good. You’ve got any plans for the afternoon?”

“She is already otherwise occupied.” Damian quickly interceeded. He might not like the blonde much, but his honor demanded that if he actually invited her for a date, he did his best.

“I will leave you to your scheming then. Or whatever else you are doing” Mari quickly hanged up on the couple before they could scream at her. She saw a bit of blush enter both of their faces so she counted it as a win.

---------

The rest of the day passed relatively quickly. Tim Drake did not show for work, so she had to handle the paperwork herself. She never imagined how much work went into organizing one press conference. Sarah did absolutely nothing about it before she quit. Her biggest problem was that she needed to have it happen outside of WE since several journalists expressed their concerns about security. Now she was being hard-pressed to find a separate convention center. Except that things were expensive and Finances were definitely not being helpful. She posted the task to one of their employees. He would send her the offers before the day was up, but there was a slight delay and she would have to wait until four. Mari decided that she can wait and have it done that day.

She informed Chloe and their teacher that she had to stay in the office after hours and get it done so they wouldn’t worry. Then, she dived into making what felt like dozens of phone calls. Out of four serious offers, three would actually pass the standards set by Mr. Drake in the email he oh so graciously sent her in response to a question about the situation. It was six when she actually got done with the negotiations, but the satisfaction was immense. The final price was ten percent lower than what she initially aimed for, so she had more funds for other things. The guest list was also reviewed in the meantime and already sent back, so that was one more thing crossed out of the list.

After being done, she bid farewell to the receptionist near the entrance and went to the Taxi she called before leaving. It was already waiting, which was a nice boon for the end of the day. Her next stop was not the hotel though. She gave the address in the seedier part of town. Her old address to be precise.

----------

“Are you sure Ma’am?” The taxi driver asked unconvinced. “I mean it’s not the safest part of town.”

“Don’t worry. I can take care of myself. Besides, my mother used to live here.” She gave him a bright smile.

“If you say so…” He shrugged and stopped before a rundown building. Moss and ivy had already overgrown this place a long time ago, but the plants seemed… unhealthy. Like they were left to fend on their own for too long. It was not a good sign.

Hesitating for a moment, Mari entered the building. She was hesitant, even though technically her mother was the owner. The ground floor was empty if one ignored several dozen wild plants in various states of growth. Some were dried and dead, while some others were lush and domineering. It used to be well-kept and ordered inside the garden that she and her mother tended to. She would fix that after she found her mother.

The second floor was not much better. The dust everywhere was indication enough that Pamela Isley moved out long ago. Probably even years. Mari walked around, reminiscing about her childhood. It was not what one would call ordinary, but she would never settle for it anyway. She loved learning about plants with her mother. The martial arts lessons with uncle Wilson when he had time. Science with uncle Victor or her mother. Even the math with uncle Floyd. And Allegra and Claude were there to keep her company.

Slowly, she trailed to her mother’s room. She hoped to find something useful there. She definitely did not expect to have to block a giant mallet with blue and red stripes. Ducking under it, she delivered a quick kick before running to the stairs. Mari dashed downstairs and burst onto the street. The Taxi driver actually waited for her. He was a godsend at this moment. She quickly jumped inside and ordered him to go.

“So? Unwelcome guests?” he asked a bit more cheeky than she would’ve liked.

“Yes. But apparently my mom didn’t live there is some time.” Mari answered in a bitter tone.

“Shame. Hope you have better luck, next time lass.” They rode in silence for a moment. “Name’s Chas by the way. Chas Chandler.”

“Marinette.” She smiled at the man. “Thank you for waiting. I would’ve probably been in a worse situation if not for you.” Mari did not add that the worse situation was ordering the wild plants to defend her. She worked with the wild plants maybe twice before and they didn’t listen that well to orders.

“Where to now?”

Mari gave him the name of the hotel. When they arrived, she paid him and gave him a rather generous tip for the work. It was already dark, but apparently Chloe was not yet here. The class was supposed to be visiting some local museum or whatever. It’s not like she cared.

When Marigold entered her room, there was a large book sitting on her bed. Tikki immediately zoomed out of her pocket and toward it. she hovered over for a moment before she huffed.

“Of course he would do that. He is an idiot though. I would be a much better teacher.”

“Who are you talking about?” Mari asked the small goddess.

“No one!” Kwami said quickly and in a bit higher tone. The bluenette could’ve sworn she saw Tikki get even redder than before.

“Okay… And what’s that? Nothing dangerous I hope?”

“It’s… it’s a spellbook.” Tikki said after hesitating a bit.

“Like magic?”

“Yeah.”

“Who would leave me a spellbook without as much as a note?” Mari asked. She could see Tikki was conflicted.

“I can’t say.” She finally let go of air. “I made a promise that I would keep the secret.”

“Fine. You’re sure it’s safe?”

“Yeah, but Magic is dangerous. You should only do it with some supervision.” Tikki warned her.

“Good thing I have you then.” Marigold grinned.

“Mari! You know I can’t exactly just…” Tikki paused. “You know what, it’s actually not a bad idea. I can teach you some simple stuff for the starters.”

“Huh? I actually expected you to be against it.”

“I trust you to act responsibly. And as a Guardian, you probably should start learning magic anyway.”

“Let’s get started then. Please tell me I can curse Lie-la!”

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#maribat au #maribat #marinette dupain cheng #Mother!Ivy #dc #MLB #mlb x dc #Batman #miraculous ladybug #miraculous lb #redeemed!chloe #Good!Adrien Agreste #bamf marinette

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