#more under the cut to prevent dash crowding | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sidespart · 3 years

Text

The Fall of King Romulus

Summary: Twin Princes Remus and Romulus are cursed at birth with Honesty and Obedience. When Romulus, who cannot disobey any order, is told to kill his brother the next time he lays eyes on him, he changes his name to Roman and runs away. Roman joins up with a misfit group of adventures and plans to never return to his homeland. But the fae have other plans for him...

This was originally a fake fic but I decided to turn it into a real fic because it looked like fun, The fake fic can be read as a prologue.

Warnings (for whole fic not necessarily individual chapters): Violence, mind whammying/memory altering, curse of obedience related consent issues, references to sex, references to war related injuries/PTSD, references to child abuse/neglect (YMMV on that one but just in case), antagonstic-but-not-exactly villian!Janus, Extremly-moraly-dubious-but-not-exacty-unsympathetic-Remus

Chapter 1

Previous (prologue) Next Chapter 2

When Roman had first left home, he had no intention of making friends.

Romulus had never had them, unless you counted Remus in their younger days. Royal life was often one of seclusion and once his… particular problem… had come to light, his parents took the necessary steps to ensure he was as isolated from others as possible.

This was for his own good. Romulus could not protect himself. Romulus was a liability to the himself and the Kingdom. One slip before a supposed playmate could lead to discovery and disaster. His father explained this to him when Romulus was eleven, and had taken to following the young Marquis de Orenlla around like a love sick puppy when the family visited the palace.

“Suppose that boy notices,” his fathers voice was a hiss, his hand gripping Romulus small shoulder hard enough to bruise “suppose he realises you will do anything he asks, and he asks you for family secrets? Suppose he waits until your are older and orders you to favour his family, to give them position in court, to promote them above their deserved station- or to harm their enemies. Do you understand the risk you’re taking Romulus? Swear to me you will keep to yourself. Please.”

Phrasing, Romulus had come to learn, was extraordinarily important when dealing with his curse. The final ‘please’ from his father had turned the order into a request – something Romulus could technically choose to ignore. But the grip on his shoulder suggested it would not remain his choice for long. So he nodded at his father and swore to keep away and was rewarded with a smile and a hand stroking gently though his hair, before he was dismissed to go and study before his afternoon lessons.

He should have been lonely. But he had his parents and his instructors and his servants. And the occasional, highly orchestrated, public appearance wherein he would adopt a practiced air of aloof politeness, wave and make measured conversation with those who would never dare to give him an order. It could have been worse.

Still, he understood that once he left it would be necessary to speak to many more people then he had up to now. He would need food and shelter and work and direction, none of which he had had to procure for himself before.

So he prepared himself to make conversation with strangers, perhaps acquire acquaintances. He expected to find admirers once he was far South enough that he could perform with his lute without fear of recognition from the crowd. He hoped, perhaps, for some romances, some temporary but dashing companions to join him on adventures. He had read about such things during hours spent locked up in the palace library and told to entertain himself.

He had not planned on making friends. Traveling with anyone for too long, getting to know them and allowing them to learn about him – it inevitably increased the chance of them discovering his secret. Of exploiting him as his parents had warned against. It was not worth the risk.

And yet.

And yet somehow, he had acquired three.

Virgil and Patton and Logan.

Brave and kind and wise.

Not a drop of aristocratic blood between them but without doubt the most noble companions a man could wish for. When he thought of them, of how they had accepted him into their little band of misfit adventurers, his heart felt more full, his mind more alive and sharp than it had been in years. His blood buzzed with creativity and songs of friendship, love and loyalty sprang from his lips almost unbidden.

Not right now however.

Right now sort of wanted to kill them. Specifically Virgil.

Roman scowled at the surrounding trees “If there are any depressingly dressed half elves out there who want to APPOLOGISE for being JERKS the floor is open!” he called.

The trees remained silent. They had done that the last three times he tried.

Roman left out a dramatic exhale and flopped back on the ground.

The thing was. He knew, intellectually, that this wasn’t Virgil’s fault. Not Intentionally.

Virgil was prickly. And unpredictable. Last night, Roman had wailed in dismay at the sorry state for a fire the young man was building. Virgil had responded that they would be lucky if there was no fire at all, since that would mean no one would have to be subjected to Romans cooking. Roman had insulted Virgil’s hair. Virgil had made a creative suggestion for where Roman could stick the firewood he was holding. And back and forth the insults went until between them they had built up the fire and set the stew boiling upon it.

It was banter. Virgil had been giggling the whole time, Patton hadn’t interjected once to tell them to be nicer.

And then this evening they’d gone hunting for firewood together. And Roman had made some sly remark, hoping that Virgil’s fire building skills had improved somewhat overnight.

And Virgil had turned round and snarled at him to “shut UP Princy. I don’t need you to help me – just, just get lost.”

Virgil didn’t know about the curse.

Romans mouth had dropped open in surprise. And before he’s had time to close it, his feet had spun round one hundred and eighty degrees and marched him away from his friend, away from the path, deeper into the heart of the forest.

His feat had carried him on a winding route, over one shallow stream and through an extremely dense thicket of brambles that left Roman desperately hacking away at the thorns in front of him before they could shred him to ribbons. He had eventually stopped after an hour of relentless marching and sprawled at the foot of an impressively knotted oak tree.

Unsurprisingly, his surroundings were totally unfamiliar. The trees grew so thick here it was impossible to see more than twelve feet in any direction. He was well and truly lost.

Roman had spent an unsatisfying few minutes ranting to the trees about elves and their unpredictable mood swings and marching and blisters and curses and Virgil’s still subpar fire lighting skills until eventually he had run out of steam and settled himself down for a good sulk.

Phrasing was important. Virgil had told him to get lost but he hadn’t said to stay lost. And now that he was lost, there was nothing to prevent him being found again.

Patton was an excellent tracker. The idea of sitting around waiting to be rescued stung Roman’s pride, but his feat had already been aching from the days travel before his unintended march. His stomach growled, the smattering of cuts from the brambles burned, and evening was already turning to night. The most sensible thing to do was for Roman to stay where he was and wait to be found.

Assuming they wanted to find him.

Roman bit his lip sharply to try and banish that line of thought. They wouldn’t leave him.

Although, he drew his legs up and wrapped his arms around his knees to fend off the evening chill, There was a strong chance they wouldn’t find him tonight. Patton had looked exhausted when Virgil and Roman and left on their hunt for firewood, in fact he’d been falling behind all day and –

Oh.

Patton and Virgil were born in Krutova and Finaley’ed respectively. Two small neighbouring kingdoms, politically insignificant and famous only for their densely forested landscapes and their intense dedication to wiping each other off the face of the Earth. For the past eighteen years bloody war had raged between the two. Roman had never asked directly, but he was fairly certain that this conflict was where Patton had acquired his enormous broadsword, his limp and, quite possibly, Virgil.

Neither of them liked forests. They carried extra tension as soon as they stood under the shadows of the trees. In addition to that, the uneven terrain aggravated Patton’s hip, sometimes leaving him hissing between his teeth with every step.

Roman had been walking up front with Logan all day, arguing the merits of modern Raspanzean poetry compared with the old masters. He had thought they had called a halt to the day a little early, but was tired enough himself not to question it. And really, since he and Virgil had been on fire and cooking duty last night it should have fallen to the others today…but Virgil had scampered into the woods as soon as Patton was settled on his bed roll, and Roman had gone chasing after.

Virgil fretted. He fretted after all of them, but Patton most of all. And Roman had chased after him when he was already stressed about his best friend and then started needling him about his fire making skills.

Roman groaned and pressed his face into his knees.

Maybe he was the jerk.

“It sounds like it.”

Roman sighed, hating the whine in his voice as he replied “but he still shouldn’t have taken it out on –“

Romans head snapped up so fast he hit his skull hard against the oak tree behind him. Wincing he twisted his head left and right, but the area remained deserted.

He frowned. Perhaps he was more exhausted than he thought –

“You certainly are over tired little Prince,” Roman made a sound which he refused to think of as a shriek and scrambled to his feet.

Standing not three feet- two feet – five feet- three feet from him, stood – hovered - sat – stood a figure in – black – yellow- black – shadow – gold - black. He- she – it – he? Laughed sweetly and stepped – slunk – prowled – flew – stepped closer

And drew back abruptly as Roman held up his dagger between them.

Roman’s sword was the best he could buy, made of blended steel with a bronze handle. He cleaned and sharpened it religiously and practiced often. It was beautifully made and perfectly balanced, suitable for a solider but ideal for a traveller in who knew how to use it.

Romans dagger was old and brittle. And more than once Logan had tried to surreptitiously throw it out and convince him to replace it with something usable.

But it was made of pure iron and it kept the scowling fae at bay.

Looking directly at the fae made something in Romans stomach twist. But he kept his eyes at a squint and held the dagger firm between them, even as his arms shook from the effort.

“What do you want from me?” he gritted out

“What do I want?” The fae’s face would not quite settle, the edges shifting and billowing, but when he smiled Roman was certain he saw fangs “You’re the one trespassing in my home, little Prince, I should be asking you”

Suddenly the fae was as close as he could come, his face less than an inch from the daggers edge. Up close, Roman could see two eyes clearly, one black and one pulsating with a sickly yellow light. “Come to make a deal with the devil, Princey?”

Roman squeezed his eyes shut and held himself firm, even as the shaking began to spread over his entire body.

“I am. A. Lost. Traveller.” He gasped out “I. mean. No. disrespect. To you. Or. Your court” for what felt like an eternity the shaking continued, rattling his brain and sending one knee crashing to the floor. And then it stopped.

Hesitantly, Roman cracked one eye open and looked up. The fae had, mercifully, settled its form. It had picked a face identical to Romans own, save for the yellow eye and scales that spread over its left side. A cloak of shadows hid most of its body from view, but when it moved towards Roman now it seemed to slither rather than step.

“You mean no disrespect” it nodded towards the dagger still clutched in Roman’s sweaty hands “but your bring a weapon to my home?”

“it is a shield, my lord, not a sword, despite it’s shape”

The fae harrumphed, a disconcertingly human noise, and circled Roman once. “You’re not from around here.”

“I’m lost, my lord.”

“I know that” The fae stopped in front of Roman again and rolled it’s eyes. “I meant you are not one of the town folk who trespass in my wood so regularly. You know how to speak to me.”

Roman opened his mouth to say ‘in my fathers Kingdom the Fae are welcomed, and representatives of the Saelie court attend each ball and function’ but managed to snap it closed before he made a sound. Rule one for dealing with the Fae, even those considered allies, was not to give them any information that they didn’t already know. “You flatter me my lord” he said instead.

Roman still hadn’t moved from his half kneeling pose and now the fae coiled down so that they were once again face to face. “Most humans in your position” he said, “would have already started begging for a deal to relive them of their…little problems. What’s the matter Princey, curse got your tongue?”

Roman couldn’t help the way his heart rate sped up at the faes words. But he did his best to keep his outward face calm. It was true, the first deliberate order he had received when his curse was discovered was to never talk about it, he couldn’t have brought it up to this fae if he wanted to.

But more than that – the fae who allied themselves with his father’s court had done everything in their power to remove the curses from him and his brother. Nothing had worked. “A gift once given can only be taken back by the gifter” an elder sprite in the guise of a kindly woman had told his mother. “And their gifter is unlikely to return here.”

The gifter was also unlikely to be a snake shaped creature tied to a southern forest. “I want nothing from you my lord, except to be allowed to leave your home” Roman intoned honestly. He had wondered, for a moment, when the creature had called him Princey – but Virgil and the others often called him by that nickname. If this was a lord of the forest he could have heard them when they passed by.

The fae stared at him for a long moment. And smiled. “Liar.”

Roman frowned – “what-“

“Roman!”

Roman jerked his head to the side, the shout had come from close by, he was sure. “Pa-Padre?”

A whisper in his ear: “time to go home Roman.” Roman quickly looked back to the fae, but it was gone. On the ground where it had been, lay a single oak leaf dyed a brilliant, autumnal, yellow.

He didn’t need to look up at the oak trees leaves to know they, like every other tree in the forest, were still a vibrant green.

“Roman! Roman are you here?”

Without much conscious thought, he reached forward and snatched up the yellow leaf, burying it deep in his pocket.

“I’M HERE. Patton? Virgil? I’M OVER HERE”

Within minuets all seven foot of Patton was crashing through the tree line and baring down on him, Virgil not far behind.

“Roman, oh my goodness we were so worried! Are you hurt? Can you stand? Why do you have your dagger – did something happen?”

“Princy! Shit are you – are you okay? I am so, - I’m really- We looked EVERYWHERE“

“I’m fine.” Roman promised ‘Its fine’ he added to Virgil, “I just – I figured you needed some space so I tried looking for wood on the other side of camp. Guess I got a little turned around” He allowed Patton to pull him to his feet, giving them both his best sheepish grin. Embarrassed but ready to laugh at himself. He really had got lost. Silly Roman.

It’s not like he could tell them about the curse.

“We’re not the far from camp” Patton told him, he glanced around frowning slightly “I’m sure we searched through here before.”

“I was trying to make my own way back,” Roman lied easily “I probably ended up walking in a circle and missed you.”

It’s not like there was any point telling them about the fae.

“You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine Pat, what about you? How’s your leg?”

“Oh this old thing?” Patton gave them a wide smile “it’s just fine, Ro, don’t you worry. Now I think I know a short cut back, you two follow close to me alright?” and with that the large man spun round and headed into the trees.

Virgil and Roman shared an exasperated glance. The man was clearly in agony.

“Listen, Princy I-“

“I’m sorry too.” Roman cut him off. Bumped his shoulder against Virgil’s and winked. “Now lets get back to camp before Logan paces a trench in to the ground hm?”

Slowly Virgil nodded, although he was still staring at Roman guiltily. The two of them headed into the trees together, collected Patton from where he was half collapsed against an elm, and the three slowly made their way back to camp.

By the time they were explaining what had happened to Logan, the memory of the fae had faded like mist.

With a days more travel they would be out of the forest and on a path to Steveange. The largest and greatest city of the Central Kingdoms. From there they would have to chose whether to head east, towards the coast line, west to catch the merchant festivals or north, where Roman had always refused to travel.

Stuck between two pages of Romans notebook, a unseasonably yellowed oak leaf shivered.

Time to go home.

#sanders sides fic #roman sanders #janus sanders #virgil sanders #patton sanders #logan sanders #remus sanders #but not in this chapter #creativitwins #sidespart writes #TS: Fall of Romulus

300 notes · View notes

writingwithacupoftea · 4 years

Text

Poison

Summary: When Y/N Shelby arrives back from a meeting with some potential business partners, her brothers, Tommy, notices that something isn’t quite right with her. Hours later, the family are crowded around her bedside, while she lies on the brink of death.

Word Count: 3350 (ooh, that’s satisfying)

Trigger Warnings: vomiting and just generally being ill

A/N: My stubborn arse finally managed to finish this fic (even though I edited as little as possible so it’s quite long)!! Hope you like it 💜💜

The Shelby and Gray families were not ones for quiet - they brought chaos and noise with them wherever they went. But now, not a single member of the family could bring themselves to speak, the doctor's parting words circling around in their heads:

"It's not looking good, I'm afraid. If she wakes in the morning, then I think we can say that things are looking up. But I can't promise you that she will."

Tommy couldn't decide if the silence was a blessing or curse. He was beyond grateful not to have his younger sister's screams of agony echoing down the halls of Arrow House any more, but it seemed so unnatural: Y/N wasn't the loudest of the Shelby clan, but she was always there with a sarcastic quip, witty comeback, or words of comfort that none of her other siblings could ever quite get right.

Her brothers often said that she was the future of Shelby Company Limited - Y/N had a vision and was determined to see it through with Tommy's help, for even though they disagreed frequently, he couldn't deny that her ideas could be the making of the business in the modern world. Tommy was beyond proud of the woman that he raised after their bastard of a father left them. Yes, Arthur, John and Ada had helped him and Polly with raising their sister – but no one could deny that Tommy loved Y/N in a way that none of the others ever could.

Now, he and his brother were crowded around her bedside, helpless, wondering how they could have let this happen.

The doctor suspected poison, and although he couldn't be sure which poison it was, Tommy knew exactly who had given it to his sister and let the guilt consume him.

***

Earlier that day...

"Tommy, do I seriously have to meet them by myself?" Y/N asked as she marched into her brother's office (without knocking, of course).

"I've told you, Y/N/N, I've got a meeting of my own to go to and I don't trust Arthur and John not to fuck things up even if you are there."

She was meant to be having lunch with some potential business partners from America, but despite Tommy's reassurances that this deal would be of benefit for their future plans for the company, Y/N had a feeling that something wasn't right about them. When she'd mentioned her suspicions that the associates may not be as friendly as they appear, Tommy brushed her concerns aside as Polly raged on at him ("Thomas you're a fool if you don't listen to your sister now – it's her gypsy instinct and it's never wrong.")

But still, Tommy insisted on going through with it. He wasn't backing down now.

~ ~ ~

When Y/N returned later that afternoon, Tommy watched in silence as she slumped down at her desk and put her head in her hands.

"That bad was it, eh?" Tommy questioned, jokingly.

"My head's pounding, Tom, don't fucking wind me up."

Arthur, who had heard the exchange, walked up to her, slamming a pile of work onto her desk. "Is our little Y/N becoming a lightweight?"

"Oh, piss off Arthur," the firmness in her voice surprising him, considering that she didn't lift her head up.

Luckily, Arthur took that as his cue to leave, but not before sending an amused look at Tommy, one that was not reciprocated. Instead, the second eldest brother furrowed his brows, all of his attention focused on his little sister, concern beginning to bubble inside of him. Not wanting to start any arguments, however, he simply settled with saying "We'll leave at about five o'clock if you're still feeling like shit, yeah? I just need to finish this first."

Y/N laughed, humourlessly, and gestured towards her newly acquired work. "I've got plenty to keep me busy, Tommy, don't worry."

"You know if you're really feeling -"

"No, Thomas." His sister cut him off abruptly. "I'm fine to work, it's just a headache. It'll go before I know it."

With that, she began reading the first document that Arthur had given to her, actively avoiding Tommy's eye.

~ ~ ~

A couple of hours later and Tommy, having been so consumed with his work, realised that he hadn't heard a peep from Y/N since she started working.

Looking up, he immediately became aware that Y/N still wasn't back to her usual self. To anyone else, she simply looked hard at work, furiously making notes as she waded through her paperwork; but Tommy could see her discomfort from a mile off. The hand subconsciously rubbing her stomach, the occasional wince in pain, the fingers on her other hand massaging her temples.

Y/N didn't seem to notice anything as Tommy made his way past her desk to speak to John and Arthur. "Has she said anything to either of you?"

"Nah," Arthur replied, casually. "I didn't think I pissed her off that badly earlier though, so I don't know why. She just keeps ignoring everyone and won't fucking sit still."

This did absolutely nothing to qualm Tommy's worries.

John piped up, tentatively: "You don't think it's...you know?"

"No, I don't, John. So spit it out."

John lowered his voice to a whisper, glancing slightly over his shoulder to make sure that Y/N wasn't listening. "You don't think it's that time of the month, do you? She always get a bit cranky, doesn't she."

Tommy cleared his throat as Arthur looked at the ground awkwardly. "Yeah, he's got a point, Tom. Best not to ask any questions."

"Right." Tommy paused, before making his way back to his office.

He mulled over his brothers' words. It was a reasonable explanation for her behaviour, but something just didn't sit right with it for Tommy. Y/N had always lived with him and over time he had developed an instinct for when that time of the month was meant to be, and this didn't fit the usual pattern.

Lost in his thoughts as he packed up his things, Tommy was taken by surprise when Y/N appeared in the doorway, a smile plastered on her face. "You ready to go, Tom?"

If Tommy had looked a bit closer, he would've seen that the smile was just a bit too bright to be genuine. He would've seen that it didn't quite reach her eyes, which looked tired and pained in themselves. But, in an unusual move for Thomas Shelby, his shock at seeing such a drastic change in his sister overtook everything else.

As they drove back to Arrow House, the sun beginning to set in the distance, Tommy thought to himself 'Maybe John and Arthur were right, for once. I'm just worrying too much.'

Upon their arrival home, the siblings' usual routine began: Y/N made her way up to her room, whilst Tommy headed straight for his study to carry on working after greeting Grace and Charlie.

And so, the evening began as a fairly typical one...but Tommy would never forget that night for the rest of his life.

~ ~ ~

At 7 o'clock each night, either Y/N or Grace would barge into Tommy's study to drag him to dinner (otherwise they thought that he'd never eat). In actual fact, Tommy always knew when dinner was going to be, but he enjoyed their visits to come and fetch him – for once, Thomas Shelby enjoyed being looked after.

Grace had left for the weekend to spend some time with friends, and so when 7 o'clock came and went without Tommy being disturbed by his sister, he began to worry. Remembering her headaches and discomfort in the office, he came to the quick conclusion that she must have fallen asleep and made his way upstairs to go and wake her.

Call it his instinct as her older brother, but Tommy just knew that something was off as he stood outside Y/N's bedroom. Opening the door and peering around it, he froze at the sight before him: his sister, collapsed on her bed, sweating profusely and mumbling incoherently to herself. Tommy rushed over, panic eclipsing him, "Y/N?"

As he brushed the loose strands of hair away from her face, Tommy felt the heat radiating from her. Having nursed his sister through many an illness during her lifetime, and therefore knowing exactly what to do (or so he hoped, for Tommy had never seen her quite this bad before), he jogged down the hallway to fetch a bowl of lukewarm water and a cloth from the bathroom.

But Tommy's plans to nurse his sister through the night himself were put to an abrupt end upon his return. Y/N was curled up in a tight ball, arms wrapped around her stomach as she groaned and grunted in pain, vomiting violently over the side of her bed.

"Mary, call the doctor NOW!" Tommy yelled over his shoulder before dashing to sit next to his sister on the bed, dampening the cloth and dabbing it to her forehead. "Y/N? Y/N, speak to me, love, what's wrong?"

Still he got no response. Y/N didn't even give any indication that she knew that he was there. Her moans of pain simply got louder and more agitated and Tommy couldn't bear it. He had always done everything that he could (and more) to keep any pain far, far away from his sister, and when it couldn't be prevented Tommy would stop at nothing to make things better for her. Even when she was a baby, and their mother was still alive, no one could separate Tommy from Y/N's side when she was sick or injured – he didn't trust that others wouldn't cause her to suffer further, and so Y/N remained under his watchful eye until she was back to full strength (and even then he was wary for a week or so afterwards).

So, for Tommy, seeing his beloved sister writhing in pain, not knowing what was wrong or how he could help, was complete and utter torture for him.

~ ~ ~

When Mary arrived upstairs to inform her employer that the doctor would arrive within ten minutes, she barely recognised him: hair messy, hands shaking and muttering tender words of comfort, the Thomas Shelby in front of her was far from the controlled man that she had become accustomed to dealing with. But the thing that shocked her the most came when the man looked up at her. Whilst the blue of his eyes had become less icy since his marriage and the birth of his son, these eyes were wild, frantic and displayed a boyish vulnerability that Mary had never even imagined. They were glazed with unshed tears, and yet this barrier did nothing to hide the whirlwind of emotions that were communicated through them. The overarching message that they conveyed was as clear as day: Thomas Shelby was frightened.

The man's voice, thick with emotion despite his attempts to compose himself, snapped her away from her thoughts. "Call the rest of the family. Explain what's happening. Tell them that they need get here as quickly as possible. Then see to it that Charlie's looked after for the night. I'll be staying here."

"Yes, Mr Shelby. Shall I send everyone straight up here?"

Tommy simply nodded, his attention already devoted to his sister once more.

~ ~ ~

The minutes that followed this interaction would forever haunt Tommy's memory.

Whilst Y/N appeared to have stopped being sick, her cries of pain continued to escalate, both in frequency and in volume. Each one pierced through Tommy like a dagger straight to his heart. He knew that nothing he was doing was helping her, and that the situation was completely out of his control, and Tommy hated it. His brain became like a cage, trapping him in his tormenting thoughts: 'You should have done something sooner...you've failed her...how can you ever claim to be a good brother again when you can't even ease her pain...this is your punishment...it's your fault...it's all your fault.'

Tommy clutched onto Y/N's hand like a lifeline, mopping her brow as sweat continued to spill from every pore and her groans became screams tearing from her throat.

Just when he thought that things couldn't get any worse, the convulsions began

Sheer terror consumed Tommy as he watched Y/N's body jerk violently on the bed. Silent tears cascaded down his face as he sat there, completely helpless, trying not to breakdown himself. That was the last thing that Y/N needed. He knew that he should call Mary or one of the maids, but he couldn't bear to leave Y/N's side to do so. He felt almost paralysed with fear, the only movement he made being the kisses that he placed repeatedly to her knuckles in between his pleas of "You're going to be alright, sweetheart...I'm here...I love you..."

The doctor came rushing in just as the convulsions were dying down, and immediately shooed Tommy away. Had the circumstances been any different, Tommy would have questioned the tone that the doctor took with Tommy – no one dismissed Tommy Shelby like that (except for Aunt Polly). But the Shelby man didn't even register it in his desperation for his sister to be looked at, so that he knew what to do to help her. He just needed to do something to make things better for her.

Standing outside Y/N's bedroom door, he heard the low rumble of his family's voices. Going against every one of his instincts to stay in position outside of Y/N's room, he ran down the stairs to see his family.

John, Arthur, Ada, Finn, Michael and Polly, like Mary, were shocked by the version of Tommy that appeared before them. From this alone, they knew that things were bad. Despite Tommy's explanations, the sight of Y/N lying weakly in her bed took them by surprise. Y/N always seemed so strong and full of life, the light of the family, and the realisation struck everyone that they may be plunged into darkness in the next few hours.

***

"It's not looking good, I'm afraid. If she wakes in the morning, then I think we can say that things are looking up. But I can't promise you that she will."

The silence left behind in the room after the doctor's departure was deafening. He had given Y/N some injections of fuck knows what to stop the convulsions and ease her pain, but he didn't know what else to do. He'd never dealt with anything like this before.

All the family could do was wait.

After some time to process the doctor's warning, each member slowly began to unfreeze, or so it seemed. Polly disappeared to the kitchen to make tea and sort out some food, although no one felt like eating. John called Esme, and afterwards Arthur rang Linda, informing their wives that they wouldn't be back at home until at least tomorrow – they couldn't leave their sister. Michael ventured down the corridor to fetch some more chairs. Ada went to tend to Charlie, and Finn went with her, sent with the task of updating Mary and telling her to go to bed.

That left Tommy. Tommy, who couldn't believe what was happening. Tommy, who knew that, despite his new family with Grace, he couldn't cope without Y/N.

Tiredly, the second eldest of the Shelby clan moved to reposition himself next to Y/N on her bed, holding her small hand in his and observing the baby hairs which fell delicately in front of her face. She would always be his little girl, no matter how old and grey and feisty she became, and nothing would change that. He refused to let anything take her away from him before they reached that point, not even poison.

As he mulled this all over in his head, remarking to himself how much she'd grown up yet how little she'd changed, Finn came back into the room. Breaking the silence, the youngest brother tentatively asked "Will she be alright?"

When Tommy looked up at his younger brother, he realised that he wasn't the only one who was scared. Truthfully, Tommy hated not being able to give a straight answer, and simply replied "She's a fighter, Finn."

God knows, they all hoped that she wouldn't stop fighting now.

***

Hours dragged on like days. The slow rising of the early morning sun taunted Tommy. The brighter it became in that room, the more the chance of Y/N waking up again slipped through his fingers.

He was the only one who stayed awake for the entire night, despite Ada's pleas for him to rest and Polly's snaps of "You're going to be no use to her if you're dead on your feet." Even the occasional drooping of his eyelids couldn't persuade him to relent. Because he knew that the minute he gave into that temptation, something would happen and Tommy couldn't risk missing anything.

Part of him had stayed awake in case Y/N needed anything or got worse; part of him stayed awake in case she herself woke up (he didn't want her being alone); and the final part of him, the part of Tommy that was shit scared of what was going to happen, wanted to spend every single moment with his little sister. Because he didn't know if one of them was going to be her last on this Earth.

Arthur and John woke up in the chairs next to Y/N's bed, and gradually the rest of the family came to join them.

Polly was the first to speak. "Has there been any change?"

Tommy didn't trust himself to say the words out loud, so responded by shaking his head and placing a kiss to the back of Y/N's hand, which he hadn't relinquished his hold on.

Whilst her skin was clammy to the touch, she was no longer sweating like before. Her breathing had evened out and the expression of discomfort that had marred her face had melted away: Y/N looked peaceful. To Polly and the rest of the family, this was a good sign, an indication that she was getting better. However, the thought lingered that this would make it easier for her to slip away undetected.

This was the most terrifying idea.

The morning continued to pass by: 9 o'clock, 10 o'clock, 11 o'clock...still nothing.

Everyone was becoming more and more agitated, the ticking of the clock doing nothing to ease the tension. Tommy had finally moved, deciding to pace up and down the limited space left in the room instead. Occasionally, someone would walk over to the window or run downstairs to get a new book. But still they waited, each member of the family united in their hope that Y/N would wake soon.

When the clock struck midday, that hope began to fade, even though no one would say it out loud; it could just be felt in the atmosphere.

However, when no one was looking, Y/N's eyes slowly crept open, squinting as the bright sunlight beamed through the window. Once her eyes had adjusted, she observed her family positioned around her room and noted the peace and quiet, even if Y/N could tell that it was tense. Internally, she sighed to herself 'No fucking fighting, at last.'

Her voice was croaky as she said quietly "How long are you guys gonna hover round my bed like a bunch of creepers, eh?"

The relief was immediate. As Arthur and John roared in excitement, shouting "SHE'S ONLY GONE AND FUCKING DONE IT," Tommy raced over and rested a hand on her cheek tenderly, their tired eyes meeting for the first time in hours. His eyes spoke of admiration and disbelief, whilst hers held only adoration for her big brother. Tommy placed a kiss to her forehead, and let a couple more tears fall.

"I love you, sweetheart."

"Love you, Tom." Y/N smiled softly. "Thank you for staying with me, I knew you were there the entire time."

"As if I could ever leave you, eh."

"Or I you, Tom."

And that was the simple and honest truth.

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #tommy shelby x sister!reader #shelby sister #peaky blinders imagine #shelby sis #shelby!sister #shelby!reader #peaky blinders sister #peaky blinders x sister!reader #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders fanfic #tommy shelby x sister reader #tommy shelby x reader #tommy shelby imagine

2K notes · View notes

yoonieboonie · 3 years

Text

The Substitute Lover (1)

word count: 2k

genre: fluff, angst hehe

pairing: myg x reader

summary: Finally meeting the college boy you've been eyeing on for months, everything goes wrong when you realise what you're really getting yourself into.

a/n: this is my first ever fic!! i hope you guys take time and read it 🥺 suggestions are welcome! NEXT | PREVIOUS

Moving to Seoul was a dream come true. For someone who lived in the farmland of Daegu, you always imagined what the city would be like. A concrete jungle far from the roaring fields that's all you've ever known, a breath of fresh air— metaphorically speaking.

Fuelled by dreams, and frankly a few wons to your name— you took the risk and moved your life in order to pursue your studies in the metro. Your thoughts drift to the heaps of paperwork that needs to be accomplished after this and frankly, you are exhausted.

You sigh, as you finally step in your worn down but still livable apartment. You got it for a really good deal since your mother is a friend of the landlady. You tried your best to make it as homey as you can. Placing a few touches of home to every corner.

"What does this even mean?" you wondered aloud, reading the email for the third time as if it would magically unsend itself. It was from the professor of your Humanities class, announcing the change of schedule. Your afternoon classes are now moved to morning, taking away all of the few hours of rest you get after getting home. You groaned and moved the cursor to tick the 'agreed' box. It's not like you have a choice anyways.

You drag your feet to class the next morning, sitting to the far right corner and preventing any interaction from the fellow victims of the change in schedule. Confused if your eyes are playing tricks, your hands flew to your thick-rimmed glasses to push it further up your nose. Then you saw it, the mint green hair that stood out in every room. To say that he intrigued you is an understatement. You are drawn to him, like a moth to a flame. You keep on looking for him at every corner of the campus, just catching a glimpse of him makes your day. He as usual is squished between his two friends who are chattering in the early hours of the morning.

The professor arrived not long after, immediately discussing the basic concept of Humanities, you scramble to get a pen and your notebook. If there's one thing you take seriously, it's your studies. You did not risk everything and moved here just to slack off.

The mint hair boy suddenly forgotten, you blink in shock as an orange head snapped to view your direction.

"Hi, I'm Hoseok. May I borrow a pen?" He asks, a hand rubbing his nape. You nodded mutely handing a pen, trying to show nonchalance that he is talking to me. The interaction had the student council president, if you remember correctly, shake his head.

"What? It's not my fault that you refused to lend me one despite of bringing a whole school supply store with you all the time." Hoseok muttered to which the president tried to counter, earning a snarl from the mint haired boy in the middle to shut the banter up.

Lecture flew by and hungry for a few hours more of sleep, you dash to the exit only to hear a voice calling out a 'hey'. You turned to look and see Hoseok waving your pen in the air.

You smiled and grabbed the pen from his hand. You bowed out of respect, and turned to leave. Only for Hoseok to grab your arm, making you halt and gently pull away.

He sheepishly smiled and apologised for catching you off guard. "It's just, I didn't get your name!" he chirped.

Panic bubbled inside you as you see his two friends catch up to him. You were not prepared at all to meet the boy you've been eyeing on for months.

"Y/N." You replied shortly and bowed again as you turned to leave. It was too late as you hear a new voice address you.

"Hey, Y/N? I've been wanting to know your name for months! Aren't you the one who stole my spot as the top Scrabble player in the campus?" The student campus president joked to which you gave a hearty laugh back, remembering the match.

"That's me." You replied curtly. You really want to leave, the zoo in your stomach will be the death of you. The boy who is silent until now is busy adjusting the case of his guitar.

"Well, it's nice to meet you. This is Yoongi." he gestured to the mint haired boy who just looked up. He gave you a curt nod that shot electricity to your veins.

"Let's eat lunch together, Y/N!" Hoseok beamed, catching all of us off guard. You racked your brain for an excuse but found none. Here you are 30 minutes later, trying to answer every question Hoseok and Namjoon have for you.

You learned that all of them are voice majors, Yoongi and Hoseok minored in guitar while Namjoon in flute. They had to retake Humanities because they failed to take the final exam due to the conflict of schedule thus the need to enroll again this semester.

Quietly finishing your meal, you nod off to the trio and started to gather your things. You fixed your thick rimmed glasses and your skirt that reached your ankles. Namjoon eyed you from head to toe, not bothering to hide the judgment that came with it. You shrugged and bid goodbye.

"Thank you for the company. See you guys around." You bid and thinking that it's probably your last and only chance to talk to Yoongi, you call for him.

"See you around, Yoongi." You beamed. Hoseok roared with laughter as Yoongi blushed from the sudden attention. Namjoon watched in amusement as the whole scene plays out.

You finally, turned to leave the trio behind.

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

After a week, it was time for your Humanities class again. This time, you arrived earlier, sitting at your usual spot.

Not long after, students started filing in the the classroom. That's when you spotted a familiar orange head. He excitedly waved at you and grabbed onto Yoongi and Namjoon's arms for them to come and sit next to you.

You laugh heartily and paid them no mind. Hoseok whispered next to you if you wanted to eat lunch again after class. You nodded, truly enjoying the trio's company. Sure, you wanted to come because Yoongi was there, but also because Namjoon and Hoseok are cool to be with.

After class, you all headed to the cafeteria. You started to line up eyeing the dishes carefully. Just watching then made your mouth water. Distracted, you bump into the person in front of you. You gasped, as you mutter an apology, profusely bowing your head. That's when you heard surprised reactions from the small crowd that noticed the interaction. Slowly you felt cold liquid drip on your head, down to your clothes.

That draws the line. You may not be from here, and you may not look like much but you surely can defend yourself. You opened your mouth to speak when you were gently shoved behind someone's shoulder. As if shielding you from the student who poured the liquid on you.

"Is there a problem here?" Namjoon's voice was cold as ice. The student, probably in fear of getting in trouble tried to pin the blame on you to which another voice countered.

"I saw you from where I was sitting. Tell the truth, it's getting embarrassing." Hoseok, who is suddenly next to you, yawns.

"It's fine. It's water, it'll dry." You said confidently, smiling at the student who looked scared for her dear life. She looks younger, so you cut her some slack.

You bought your food and sat back at our table. You could feel the three of them eyeing you as you chomp down on your first proper meal of the day. You glanced at Yoongi, who for the first time since you've met was looking at you. You beamed at him before wiping your mouth with a napkin, as you cleared your throat.

"Yoongi, would you like to have coffee tomorrow?" you asked, my hands under the table over your lap.

Hoseok and Namjoon looked shocked beyond words. Yoongi on the other hand, didn't even spare you a glance. You winced internally but kept your composure cool. Namjoon cleared his throat and pushed a bottle of water towards my direction.

"Maybe you need a drink, Y/N." You accepted and drank. Then after, you faced Yoongi again.

"Is that a yes?"

It's Hoseok's turn to intervene now, using a napkin to get your glasses from your nose and wipe it. He tried to dry your hair too but you leaned away from his touch.

"Y/N, I think it's best you let this go." Namjoon spoke again.

"Why? Are you dating anyone?" You questioned further.

That seemed to be the last straw for Yoongi for he stood up, gathered his music sheets and left the three of us, not even bothering to carry his lunch.

Hoseok looked around the table before laughing in amusement. Namjoon joining not long after. You looked at them, confused beyond words.

"You are something else, Y/N. Now I know why we were always told to not judge a book by its cover." Namjoon beamed.

Hoseok just patted your head. Both of them bidding goodbye, as Namjoon stopped to browse in his notes. He slipped a paper to you and when you glanced down, it looked like their schedule this semester.

You smiled and bid them goodbye.

You'll try again tomorrow.

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

The following day, you woke up earlier than usual to buy two iced Americanos. If you're lucky, Yoongi might like something to drink before their recital's daily rehearsal.

As if on cue, you hear Hoseok's loud laughter at the campus yard and as expected Yoongi and Namjoon are there with him. You raise your hand and wave towards them as you see Yoongi's eyes darken.

You paid no mind and dragged your feet towards the trio. You stopped in front of them, fixing your glasses and smoothing out your green cardigan. Namjoon like his usual habit, eyed you up and down and scrunched his nose at your taste in clothes. That made you chuckle out loud.

"Hi, Yoongi. I bought you an iced Americano." I offered, handing out the cold beverage. He eyed it carefully, before accepting it and shoving it to Hoseok's face.

Hoseok winced and looked at you apologetically. You shook your head and smiled.

"That's okay, I didn't peg you as an Americano guy anyway. How about an iced Latte for tomorrow?" you quipped, not giving up.

"Look, Y/N, isn't it?" Yoongi started. "I do appreciate the gesture but I am not interested. I am taken, and will never be available."

You felt your shoulder slump. That makes sense, with how he looks and the entirety of him, it was impossible for him to be single. You nodded and started to apologise when you heard Hoseok chirp beside you.

"No he's not!"

"Hoseok!" Namjoon hissed. Hoseok shrugged his shoulders and dragged you away. With one last look at Yoongi, you followed Hoseok.

"Look, I'll help you. Just tell me what you need." Hoseok bounced with excitement. You laughed, you honestly didn't think you'd get this far.

"It's okay, I got this." You whispered to Hoseok.

"Hey, Min Yoongi!" you called out. He turned to look at you and you raised your hand to point at the bulletin board. He quipped his head to the side as if challenging you to continue. You sighed and moved closer to the board to point at the upcoming examination schedule.

"Our finals is coming up soon." You stated.

"If I beat you and score higher than you, then we'll go on that date. Otherwise, you'll never hear from me again." You challenged.

Namjoon whistled at that, onlookers started to get interested and eventually started to taunt Yoongi. You smirk and wait for his response.

Hoseok and Namjoon are in the sidelines, watching and honestly enjoying their friend's struggle. Hoseok lazily drinking the iced Americano that you bought for Yoongi.

Yoongi stayed silent and you took that as your cue to leave, only a few steps in, you turned and moved closer to a glaring Yoongi.

"Oh, I forgot something!" you exclaimed.

You then stalked towards him, grabbing both of his collar towards you. Eliminating the height difference, you inched your face closer to his until your lips met. It was a quick peck but just enough to make the crowd roar and make Yoongi burn red in embarrassment.

You slowly took a step back. Bidding Namjoon and Hoseok goodbye.

What the fuck did you just do? -------------------------------------------------------------------------

NEXT | PREVIOUS

#yoongi #suga #myg x reader #yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #yoongi x you #bts x reader #bts x you #suga x reader #suga x you #bts

39 notes · View notes

agustdakasuga · 4 years

Text

A Place Called Home | Chapter 16

Genre: Hybrid!AU, Poly!AU?, Soulmate AU, romance, fluff, humour

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: vet!reader, Arcticfox!Seokjin, Panther!Yoongi, Goldenretriever!Hoseok, Wolf!Namjoon, Calicocat!Jimin, Tiger!Taehyung, Rabbit!Jungkook

Summary: Having saved your own injured hybrid, you were determined to try and help any other hybrid that crossed your path who needed saving. But being a vet in a small hospital wasn’t enough for you. You wanted to do more, you wanted to make a difference. You wanted to give them a home.

You have to do what’s best for your hybrids’ safety, even if it ends up hurting both you and them. But you know that you’d rather them be angry with you than dead.

Chapter warning(s): Angst(?), SAD. Please read at your own discretion. (Shorter chapter up ahead)

Three days since Christmas passed. Yoongi’s piano recital was tonight. You knew just how hard he has been practicing and you were so happy that he will finally reap the fruits of his labour.

“Yoongs?” You put a hand on his shoulder, making him jump slightly. It was only the two of you in the kitchen, having a late lunch while the rest were busy with their own things. Yoongi was chewing on his fingernail and staring at the wall that he didn’t even pay attention to his food.

“Are you alright?” You asked, concerned.

“I’m nervous for tonight.” He confessed. You softened at his words, cupping his cheeks to make him look at you.

“Hey, don’t psych yourself out. You will do just fine. I know you how hard you have been working. You’re talented and you’ve improved so much, give yourself some credit.” You gave him an eskimo kiss.

“I love you so much, kitten. What would I do without you?” He finally broke into a gummy smile.

“Don’t even go there. I never want to imagine my life without any of you. Now eat. You’ll need energy or you might pass out before you even step on stage.” You chuckled. He nodded and picked his chopsticks up to start eating. As he ate, he kept his hand on your thigh the entire time, his tail coiled around your waist like always.

“We’ll always be here. You know that.” Yoongi spoke again, cutting your quiet eating. You stopped, processing his words.

“I know.” You smiled down at your bowl.

After lunch, Yoongi ran through his pieces on his new piano. You sat in the living room, watching the 3 maknaes play their video games. Of course, you were lost because you weren’t a gamer.

“Play with us, (y/n).” Jimin whined.

“Thanks for the offer, Chim. But I haven’t understood a single thing since I’ve sat down to watch you.” You chuckled.

“It’s easy. Here.” Jungkook suddenly moved to sit behind you. Your eyes widened slightly as his wrapped his arms around you, practically giving you a back hug. He put his large hands over yours as he guided you on how to use the controller.

“Like this.” His breath was warm against your ear. He didn’t notice to two others watching you, having abandoned the game. Even Yoongi stopped playing to watch the interaction in amusement.

“Got it?” Jungkook’s voice broke your train of thought.

“Uh huh...” You replied aimlessly and he pulled away, shooting you his signature bunny smile.

“I just remembered, I still have some things to do. You guys do ahead and play.” You squeaked and stood up, running to your room.

You knew that since Christmas night, Jimin had intentions to mate you. You had overheard him telling Taehyung about it. And even though it has only been 3 days, Hoseok and Jungkook have been much more affectionate with you.

But you couldn’t, you weren’t cruel like that.

*KNOCK KNOCK*

“Come in.” You sat up from your bed. You opened the door to see Namjoon standing there.

“Hey love, I just wanted to ask if you think I should wear a tie with my suit tonight. I’ve never worn a suit before and never gone to a fancy event like this before so I want to make sure I look my best.” He held up the jacket, tie and inner shirt for you to see. You stepped aside to let him into your room and he tried on the outfit for you to see.

“Hmm... No tie. And don’t worry, Joon. You look just fine. Very dashing.” You stroked his cheek with reassurance.

For almost all the boys, it was their first time attending a formal event and wearing a suit. They were so excited when you brought them for their suit fitting.

“Thank you. I’ll leave you to get back to what you were doing.” Namjoon changed back and grabbed his clothing.

“Joon.” You blurted out as he was walking to the door.

“Yes, my love?” He let go of the door knob and turned around to face you, a gentle smile on his face, his dimple showing.

“Nothing.” You returned to smile and shook your head as you waved at him. He shrugged slightly and turned around to leave the room. You sighed and heard the door opening again.

“(y/n)? Are you busy?” Jimin poked his head in.

“Hey, Chim. I might take a nap.” You chuckled, yawning. You laid down, putting your head on the pillow. Looking up at the calico cat, you patted the empty space in front of you and Jimin grinned before he entered the room, closing the door behind him. He climbed in, getting warm under the covers by your side.

“What’s up?” You asked.

“Jungkook and Tae are still playing but I just wanted some quiet time before it got too much for me.” He confessed.

“I understand. We all need our quiet time.” You stroked his head. Even if you woke up late today, you haven’t been sleeping the past few nights and the exhaustion was getting to you.

“Goodnight.” You said sleepily as your eyes closed. Jimin kept his arms around you the whole time, being lulled to sleep as well.

Finally, it was time to go for Yoongi’s recital. Yoongi had left earlier to prepare while the rest of you left a lot later. You watched as the boys wore their suits, each fitting suit somehow matching the person’s personality.

“Need some help?” You asked Jin, who was struggling with his tie.

“Thank you, snowflake.” He smiled.

“You should go change.” Jin shooed you away as he helped the others get ready. Looking at the clock, you knew there wasn’t much time and ran upstairs to get changed. You took your dress out. Slipping it on, you looked at your reflection in the mirror, taking a deep breath. There was a churning in your stomach as your smile faltered a little.

“Jagi!” Taehyung called, a nickname he took from Jin. You hummed in acknowledgement and left your room.

“I’m here.” You came down the stairs. The boys all stopped what they were doing and stared at you. You were in a gradient navy blue and white A-line dress that had sparkles cascading down the chiffon skirt.

“Is it too much?” You winced.

“Snowflake, you look absolutely stunning.” Jin shook his head.

“You’re so beautiful, my love.” Namjoon took your hand, kissing the back of it. His actions caused you to blush.

“You all look great as well.” You smiled. Taehyung took pictures of you with all the boys. Jin volunteered to drive the van. You made sure you had the tickets in your clutch. Hoseok sat beside you, wrapping a secure arm around your shoulder. His uplifting smile was able to make you smile as well.

“Are you alright? Feeling ill?” He asked.

“I’m fine, Hobi. Don’t worry.” You rubbed his ear with a small smile. When Jin parked, you stepped out. Jungkook took your hand.

“We still have some time left.” Namjoon checked his watch.

“Excuse me, are you Min Yoongi’s owner? (y/n)?” A teenage boy ran up to you. You and the 6 hybrids looked at him. You nodded your head, did something happen to Yoongi?

“Mr Min asked me to come look for you. He requested that I take you to him now.” The boy informed.

“I’ll come with you. You guys head in first.” You gave them their tickets and followed the boys in. He led you to a door that had, ‘Min Yoongi’ scribbled on the name plate. The boy bowed and left you. You cleared your throat and knocked the door.

“Yoongs?” You called. He suddenly pulled you to him, making you crashed against his chest.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You asked softly.

“You look beautiful, kitten.” He complimented, ignoring your question. Closing the door, he sat you down on the couch. He was in his dress pants and shirt but his ironed blazer was still draped over the chair to prevent wrinkles.

“I just want to do well for you.” Yoongi squeezed your hand.

“Oh, Yoongi. You don’t have to worry about that. I know you will do well, you already make me so proud no matter what. A piano performance doesn’t change what I feel for you. I’m honoured you’re doing this for me but I also want you to do this for yourself. You’ve worked so hard and from this point, you’ll just keep getting better.” You stroked his cheek.

“I just needed to see you to calm myself down.” He confessed.

To that, you smiled softly and kissed his cheek. Yoongi’s tail coils around your wrist and the two of you just share a peaceful silence. You’re the only one that Yoongi shows his vulnerability to.

“You should go find your seat.” Yoongi whispered.

“Alright, I’ll be anticipating your performance, Yoongs.” You smiled and wrapped your arms around him to hug him.

“I’ll be searching for you in the crowd, kitten.” He kissed your forehead and let’s you go. You entered the auditorium with some other people filing in and find your seat with the other 6. Your seat was in between Jin and Taehyung.

“Is he okay?” Jin asked.

“Yeah, he’s fine. Just nervous.” You giggled. Taehyung laces his fingers through yours and you smile at him. It wasn’t long until the lights darken and the talking crowd is reduced to whispers and low murmurs. You watch as the different groups of people perform. From little kids to adults.

“When is Yoongi hyung coming out?” Taehyung asked you.

“He’s the finale so there’s still a bit to go.” You replied in a low whisper. The other performers weren’t terrible, you all were just excited to see Yoongi.

“It’s Yoongi hyung’s turn.” You hear Jungkook whisper excitedly a few seats down. You were so happy to see how the hybrids support each other and hype each other up like real brothers.

The curtains drew back and the spotlights turned on. Everyone clapped as Yoongi stepped out, looking absolutely dashing in his tuxedo. He bowed to the audience.

“You can do it, Yoongi.” You said softly, knowing he can’t hear but you still prayed that he wouldn’t let his nerves get the best of him.

Yoongi took a deep breath and began playing. The beautiful melody flowed through the entire concert hall. It felt like a warm blanket was wrapped around you. Yoongi continued playing, closing his eyes, not even looking at the music score before him anymore. Turning your head, you saw the other 6 hybrids all watching with small smiles on their faces.

They’ll be alright.

“Snowflake...” Jin faced you and you turned to him, not even realising that tears were streaming down your cheeks.

“It’s okay.” He gave a soft smile and reached out to wipe your tears away. Taehyung squeezed your hand in comfort. Yoongi finished the next song and moved on to his next one, which was a self composed song.

This song was an entire story. The story of you and Yoongi; how you found him, healed him, stayed with him, all the moments you shared with him, encased in a piano melody.

As the song ended, Yoongi opened his eyes and stood up. Even amongst the crowd, he met eyes with you, giving small crooked smile. Everyone stood up and clapped for him, giving him a standing ovation. You heard the boys cheering for him loudly.

“Thank you for attending the concert tonight everyone. We hope to see you again next year.” The MCs of the concert closed the show.

“Let’s go find hyung!” Jimin smiled.

“You guys go ahead. I need to use the washroom.” You said.

“You sure? We can come with you.” Hoseok asked.

“There’s no need, it’ll probably be crowded anyway. I’ll come find you guys later. We wouldn’t want to keep Yoongi waiting.” You smiled. The boys nodded and you parted ways. They went to the area where performers were coming out. Some performers met their families and left.

“Yoongi hyung!” Taehyung called when the pather came out, dressed in his normal clothes.

“Where’s (y/n)?” Yoongi asked.

“Bathroom.” Jungkook replied. The boys all complimented Yoongi on his performance, making him flustered and embarrassed.

“Ah, it was alright.” He stuttered, waving the compliments off. People were leaving and soon, it was only the 7 of them left, waiting for you. Namjoon took his phone out to text you but you didn’t reply him.

“There could be a long queue. Try calling her?” Jungkook suggested. Namjoon nodded and called you but it went straight to voicemail. Something was terribly wrong. All of them felt it in them. You weren’t someone to ignore calls, especially calls from them.

“Where’s the washroom? Let’s go find her.” Jin frowned.

'We have separated. They went to meet Yoongi at the backstage entrance. - Echo’

‘Roger. We’ll move in and get them to the safe house. You know the rules Echo, no more communicating with them. - Alpha’

‘Please take care of them. - Echo’

“Sorry. We can’t let you go anywhere.” They were suddenly surrounded by masked figures. The 7 boys backed away in caution.

Yoongi’s heart dropped. This was what he was afraid of the moment he knew that you received a threat from his previous owner at work. You told him stories about this happening to other agents and their hybrids before. The organisation didn’t take any chances. The moment you report a threat, they will immediately move in for a hybrid removal.

“Who are you?” Jimin asked, starting to feel scared.

“Hello. My name is Alpha. All of you are in danger, we are here to take you to a safe house immediately.” A male told them. Yoongi knew this man, they have met before.

“What about (y/n)?” Yoongi asked.

“Yoongi, you know that you cannot see Echo as long as there is a threat. This is protocol.” Alpha told them.

“(y/n) is in danger too. Those guys came after her because she saved Yoongi and Namjoon. She should be coming to the safe house with us.” Jin said.

“It doesn’t matter. Our priority is to keep hybrids safe. Echo will handle things herself.” Alpha spoke. Yoongi knew that this was what the organisation was like. They save hybrids and keep them safe, not humans, even their own agents.

“You can’t just take us without telling (y/n).” Taehyung argued.

“Don’t worry, Echo has given us consent to move you to a safe location. You are not allowed to return to your home.” Another man, Bravo, told them. They couldn’t believe what they were hearing. You allowed them to be taken away? Jungkook stomach sank, was he wrong to trust you so quickly? Did you just abandon them like his previous owner?

“No way. She wouldn’t abandon us like that.” Jungkook said in disbelief, shaking his head.

“Echo has already wasted time by not telling us about the threat when it happened. Instead, she waited it out, which is against the rules. She was irresponsible and put all of you in danger.” Alpha sighed.

“Don’t say that about her!” Namjoon growled menacingly. He would never let anyone insult his mate.

“I want to see (y/n).” Jimin cried, hugging onto Jin.

“She’s not here, she left. We have to go now.” The group began to move in on them. Of course, the 7 were not going down without a fight. As Yoongi growled, he saw a hint of blue. You were still here.

“Kitten!” Yoongi called.

“We’re not letting you take us until we see (y/n).” Hoseok glared.

“I’m sorry, you don’t have a choice.” Alpha said.

“(y/n)...” Taehyung cried, scared. Yoongi knew you were there and continuously tried to call out to you. If this was really it, he wanted to see you one last time. Even when his throat was hoarse and raw, he didn’t stop calling your name.

“Please don’t let them take us, (y/n)! You promised we’ll always be together! You promised that you’ll never abandon us or let us go! Please! I’m begging you!” Yoongi screamed, letting his tears fall. You stiffened, clenching your fists by your side. You were about to step out when someone grabbed your arm.

“Don’t.” Delta stopped you.

“I...” You were lost.

“Let us go home!” You heard the hybrids protesting as they were all taken away.

“Go home, Echo. You seeing them is just going to make leaving harder.” Delta pushed you in the other direction. You nodded your head, hearing the cries and shouts of your 7 hybrids.

“I’m sorry, Yoongi. I just want all of you to be safe.” You whispered and with the heaviest heart, you walked away.

After telling your organisation about the threat you received at work, you had to beg them to only take the hybrids after Yoongi’s performance.

‘Echo, you have violated the code by keeping this threat to yourself. You were selfish and as a result, put all your hybrids in grave danger. Furthermore, the person who threatened you knows your identity and workplace. - Bravo’

‘I know. - Echo’

‘We will come and move them tonight. - Delta’

‘Wait! Yoongi has a piano recital coming up. Can you please wait until after his performance? - Echo’

‘You still dare to ask for a delay? - Charlie’

‘I will take full responsibility if anything happens. Just, please, wait. You can take them after that. Yoongi worked so hard and practiced every day for this performance. - Echo’

‘Fine. - Alpha’

‘Alpha, are you really going to take the risk? - Bravo’

‘Echo said she will take responsibility. She can only count on her lucky stars until then. Echo, you are to separate from your hybrids immediately after the performance. We’ll be on standby. - Alpha’

‘Yes, Alpha. - Echo’

As you entered your empty house, the cold air hit you and the silence was almost deafening. Taehyung and Jimin weren’t there to greet you with hugs and kisses. Jin wasn’t in the kitchen. Namjoon wasn’t in the garden. Jungkook wasn’t in front of the television. Hoseok wasn’t running around with his tennis ball. Yoongi wasn’t sleeping under his heating lamp.

It was empty. You were alone.

You covered your mouth with your hand as you fell to the ground, letting the loud sobs escape you. The hybrids would probably hate you now, you broke all your promises with them. But maybe it was better like this.

You laid in bed, wrapping your blanket around you but you couldn’t sleep. You were worried about them.

Of course, you wanted your hybrids to stay by your side. But you couldn’t be selfish and risk their safety. Deep down, you knew the only way they would be safe is in a safe house.

Away from you.

Tag list

@beach-bitch-bitch-beach @georgie-me-myself-i @vbmnl @zingapinga @xanny91 @namjoonies-dimple @mrcleanheichou @niquedcs @etaerealboy @livetay84 @thefangirlsoul @lil7bluedragon @novusluna @egyptsblackrose @ladyabby-1996 @stvvcks @3musez @kawaiikpoplover268 @thequeen-kat @kookieskiwi @kristianmint @aclp-jb1d @bubbletaetaesstuff @narcissism-iskey

Some of the accounts won’t let me tag you! Please make sure that under settings, you enable people to tag you!

920 notes · View notes

hello-everyfandom · 4 years

Text

"I promise to fix your ties in the morning and kiss you when you come home."

Warnings: Death, violence and blood.

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Words: 2k

Summary: Newlyweds meet tragedy and disaster.

(Wow, okay so this made me so super emotional. Quick note: Italics refers to the past. Sorry in advance :( )

You could hear the destruction of your home. The falling stone walls and the dust that sputtered out from under it. For years, you have stared at the paintings and wandered Hogwarts to admire the absolute beauty it omitted. It was your home, the place you grew up, the place you learned how to become something only dreams could portray, the place you fell in love with Fred Weasley. But now, you could smell the metallic scent of blood and could hear the electricity that spits out after venomous spells were casted. You could feel drips of blood run down your chin from the nasty cut you had gotten after you had fallen. You could feel the blisters and the soreness of your muscles from holding up your wand. Your voice was hoarse and, if you could, you’d drop to the floor in exhaustion. But you stood defiantly, wand in front of you. A man in a mask faced you as you breathed heavily, your mind sharp.

“Reducto!” You yelled, blasting the wall behind him into pieces, trying to frighten him. He dodged it, snapping his wand at you.

“Crucio!” He spit back. It narrowly missed as you continued to duel bravely. “Stupefy!” You countered, hitting him square in the chest; knocking him backward into the crumbling wall. He laid on the floor as you caught your breath before turning and flicking your wand to avoid another spell that was thrown at you.

Destruction. You could see the bodies of men, women, and children strewn on the floor. You bit back a sob as you continued to fight for Good, against evil, against the Death Eaters who saw nothing but blood. Fred. Fred. Fred. All you could focus on was staying alive so you could get back to Fred. Fred. The man you so desperately loved. The man you married last night before the war had approached on your doorstep.

Outside the shell cottage, you wore a simple white dress that Fleur had graciously lent you. She braided your hair and placed a kind hand on your shoulder.

“You look zo bo-tiful, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Fleur,”

The bedroom door pushed open, as Molly peeked in. She gasped and held her hand to her mouth in silent tears. You smiled and reached out to hug her, rubbing her back.

“I’m so happy,” Molly cried, holding you closer, “You, I.” She sobbed, wiping her face.

“Molly,” you asked, “Will you and Arthur walk me down the aisle?” Your question seemed to make her cry even harder as she nodded her head as quickly as she could. Your parents had passed earlier this year, captured by Death Eaters and killed for information on the whereabouts of Harry Potter. But, Molly was just as much your mother and you wanted nothing more than for her to give you a way to her son. Arthur peeked his head in, seeing his crying wife and smiled, wrinkles indented near his eyes.

“Arthur, Dear. Y/N would like us to walk her down the aisle.”

Arthur smiled even harder, and agreed whilst giving Molly a handkerchief, “It would be my honor.” Before Molly could let out another cry, she dabbed her eyes.

“Not to interrupt,” Bill said from outside the door, “But we’re ready for you.”

Only a few chairs were outside on the beach, Molly held your hand as you walked down the cliff and down to the water. There was no music, there didn’t need to be for this to be the most perfect wedding. Ginny and Charlie sat, looking back at you with grins on their faces. Tonks and Remus also managed to make it, Tonks hair was a simple colour of blue. Bill and Fleur quickly took their seats to watch you, arm in arm, walking down with Arthur and Molly. Just across from you, stood the love of your life. He had worn simple slacks and a dress shirt with a colourful bow tie. His brother, who stood with his hands behind his back whispered how lucky a man Fred was. He knew. He watched you with happy tears in his eyes. You sent him a wink which made him chuckle and shake his head. Your feet hit soft, cool sand and you continued until you were in front of your soon to be husband. Arthur and Molly kissed your cheek and sat. Molly immediately gripped her husband’s arm, crying into her already moist handkerchief.

You joined hands with Fred.“You look dashing,” you whispered.

“As do you, sweetheart,” Fred said honestly, barely believing you were there in his arms, ready to become fully his.

“Are you ready to get married?”

“I was born ready.” You two turned to Kingsley Shacklebolt who officiated your wedding.

You could barely hear what he was saying over the constant pounding of your heart. But, you could hear him announce the vows.

Fred turned, exhaling in blissful happiness.“Y/N, I promise to be the husband you deserve. I promise my heart and myself to you. I promise, together, we will make a living and continue to love each other even when we argue about silly things such as how to properly pronounce ‘bludger.’ And, most importantly, I promise to love you for as long as you’ll let me.” You laughed through the tears you seemed to have forgotten were there and cleared your throat.

“Fred. I promise to be your partner, I promise to always love you with open arms. I promise my present and my future with you. I promise to fix your ties in the morning and kiss you when you come home. I promise not to get too angry when you accidentally set our living room on fire. I promise to make you a cup of tea when you’re stressed or a cup of whiskey if you’re really stressed. I promise to wake up next to you and fall asleep next to you every day. I promise I will be yours.”

Fred smiled and turned to George who passed him the rings. Fred held your hand delicately and placed the ring on your finger as you did the same to him. Shacklebolt waved his wand over your joined hands and again over your heads, raining stars, and sparks around you. You leaned in and pressed a sweet kiss on your husband’s lips. You could hear the hollers and applause from your new family as you turned and smiled ear to ear at them. George pointed his wand to the sky and set off fireworks that sprinkled on the small crowd.

“I love you, Mrs. Weasley,” Fred said, holding you in his arms.

“And I love you, Mr. Weasley.”

You could feel the ring on your finger as you continued to aim spells at people, dodging and jumping as you made your way through Hogwarts. Violence, fighting, dueling and killing continued until Voldemort had made his devastating announcement calling Harry Potter to him, calling Harry to sacrifice himself in order to save his classmates. Then, the halls became silent. You cursed yourself for being so far away and sprinted towards the Great Hall where most of the injured laid. Before you could reach there, you saw a young boy on the ground, spitting and coughing to prevent the dust and debris from going into his lungs. You searched him over for injuries, he must have not been older than thirteen as he still wore his Ravenclaw tie. You threw his arm over your shoulder and limped fastly. Your legs carried you and the boy, ignoring the exhausting soreness of the war until you reached the Great Hall. You found Madame Pomfrey who took him in her arms and began to tend to him. You sucked in a deep breath as you called out, “Fred?” No one answered. You looked at the crumbling walls of the Great Hall and the torn House banners until you spotted a family of redheads. You grinned and ran towards them.

“Fred!” You called, reaching your arm out. But before you could reach them, you felt an arm slip around your waist, tugging you backward.

“Y/N, stop.” You heard Bill, Fred’s older brother, say in your ear, “You don’t want to see this.” Immediately confusion gripped your throat as you peered closer. The Weasley family was huddled around something, someone. Someone lying on a stretcher, you could barely make out his shoes. No. You could see a hand that drooped lifelessly on the floor. A wedding ring. A ring you had just slipped onto him yesterday. You fought Bill’s grip, leading you towards the man who was lying there. A man. A man. Fred. Fred Weasley was lying there. You could see his hair that you had tousled this morning. You could see his lips that were slightly parted and cracked.

“No.” You gasped, breaking away from Bill’s grasp and rushing over to the Weasley’s. You had just noticed they were crying, all of them. You pushed between them, making sparse eye contact with your husband’s twin. His face was twisted in pain. You shifted your gaze from him down to Fred. Bill had approached you from behind and attempted to hold you still. You let out a cry, no. A scream. You screamed. Maybe it was silent, or maybe it was glass shattering. You couldn’t hear anything. You howled in agony as you gripped Bill’s arm, falling slowly to the ground, your knees hitting the floor. All your sadness, your anguish and your suffering let out in long screams.

Denial. It wasn’t him. It couldn’t be. You had just had tea with him this morning, you had just kissed his lips before you two separated to fight. You inhaled salty tears that stung your lungs as you cried out again in utter pain. The Weasley family watched you in pity and in sadness as you reached and gripped Fred’s hand and held his cheek. The sounds of your screams made them flinch, but you could barely control yourself. Your husband laid there, a vacant look in his eyes.

“No.” you sobbed, holding his hand tightly to your chest, your rings touching together. “No!” You pressed your head to his chest, wishing to hear a heartbeat. Nothing. You reached up and brushed the rubble and dust out of Fred’s hair, whispering and crying to yourself.

Harry Potter watched you from afar. Watched a grieving wife cry over her husband because of him. You always hand in hand with Fred, giving Harry advice or witty comments. Harry had never seen a couple more utterly in love and felt a wave of realization hit him. He couldn’t let more people die. He couldn’t bear to see more people die because of him, more people grieve because of him. George kneeled next to you, pulling your lifeless body in his arms as you hugged tightly. He blocked out the screams you let out in his ear and held you tighter.

Somehow, you lifted yourself from Fred’s body. Feeling nothing but the need for vengeance and justice. As the war continued and Harry fought Voldemort, you lifted your wand and cast spells with anger in your heart. You dueled death eater after death eater, tired to the bones until you couldn’t fight anymore. A blast knocked you into a pillar, rendering you close to death. You felt strong arms lift you up, your eyes drifted to a similar red hair, similar face. It must’ve been Fred. In your last moments, you felt yourself slip away, looking up at your love’s face. Fred’s face. You felt safe, ready to leave with your husband, the love of your life after the battle had taken both of you. Your eyes drew closed as you wheezed and cuddled closer to the arms that held you. George, who had actually picked you up, placed you gently next to his twin. There you laid, newlyweds, hands touching with glistening rings.

#fred wealsey imagines #fred weasley #fred weasley imagine #fred weasley oneshot #george weasley imagine #harry potter imagine #harry potter #harry potter imagines #harry potter oneshot #fred weasley x reader #damn ok this made me sad

645 notes · View notes

luke-patterson-owns-my-soul · 4 years

Text

Scratch My Back...

Luke Patterson x Reader

Title: Scratch my Back…

Words: 1241

Summary: Y/N and Luke’s secret relationship gets found out.

Requested: Anon Request for Reggie or Alex finding out about Luke and their sister after they’re intimate and leave marks TW: Mentions of sex, mild swearing Author’s notes: I hope this is what you wanted, dear Anon. I hope I did your request justice. Characters have been aged up.

Kissing you on the lips, Luke crawled out of your bed and walked across your room picking up his discarded clothes. You can’t help but watch him as he moves, the muscles shifting under his tan skin as he pulls his jeans on.

“Do you have to go?” you ask, not wanting him to leave you alone. He never stayed over, not wanting to get caught by your family. You knew it wasn’t anything personal, but it still hurt every time he got dressed and climbed out of your bedroom window with a kiss and a smile.

“I’m sorry, babe, but you know I can’t stay.” He leaned over the bed and kissed you deeply. “Have you seen my shirt?” As he turned to look around your room you can’t help but burst out laughing.

“It’s hanging off my lamp.” You tell him, not mentioning the four scratches on his back. He’ll find out about them soon enough.

Once Luke’s dressed, he crawls onto your bed and kisses you again. This one could easily turn into more, and he groans when he pulls away.

“I love you.” He whispers as he locks his eyes on yours before escaping out of your bedroom window. Minutes after he leaves, Reggie sticks his head around your door.

“Why aren’t you ready? The show starts in an hour.” Your brother hated being late for anything. The venue for tonight’s gig was less than twenty minutes away by car, he needn’t have worried.

“Give me 5 and I’ll meet you down in the car.” You threw your car keys over to Reggie, waiting until he left the room before climbing out of bed to grab a quick shower.

It was almost fifteen minutes by the time you were dressed and had your make-up done. You rushed down to your car, where Reggie’s tapping his fingers against the dash.

“We are gonna be so late, Y/N. And I’ll be blaming you.” He snapped as you climbed into the driver’s seat.

“Reg, when have I ever let you down?” Starting the engine, you pull away from your house, a delicious ache still invading your body.

_____________________________♥♥♥________________________________

As expected, you and Reggie arrived with plenty of time to spare. Alex had already set up his drumkit and was chatting with his boyfriend, Willie and Bobby while Luke was on stage checking over his amp. He caught your eye and flashed you a wink without anyone seeing before carrying on. You busied yourself with setting up the merch table near the bar.

As you were the only one old enough to drink, you bought the guys some soda and yourself a beer. Once it was time for them to head backstage to get ready, you settled yourself in for a night of crowd watching. It never bothered you seeing girls fawn over Luke. He was twenty, gorgeous, and crazy talented, but you were the one he wanted screaming his name. It was just a shame you had to sneak around to do it.

Although you were a year older then Reggie, he’d banned his friends from ever dating you back in high school. It had pissed you off, especially when you realized you had feelings for Luke. So, for the past year, the two of you had been meeting up in secret. The excitement had been such a turn on at first, but now it was draining for the both of you. More than anything, you wanted to be able to go out in public with the man you loved without offending your brother.

Feeling irritated, you decided to head backstage to see if you could grab five minutes with Luke, maybe they could sneak off somewhere so she could give him a few good luck kisses before he went on stage.

“What the fuck are those on your back?” you could hear Reggie laughing from the dressing room they’d been given by the venue. You stopped outside the door so you could eavesdrop.

“What?” Luke’s voice was laced with confusion, making you giggle silently.

“You have some wicked scratches on your back. Wait… have you got a little side thing that you’ve been keeping a secret from us?” Bobby joined in the conversation. Trust him to make it sound so crass, but you couldn’t blame him really.

To prevent Luke having to lie outright, you knocked on the door before slipping inside.

“Ten minutes, guys.” You grinned at the four of them, trying not to make eye contact with Luke who was smirking at you. You knew he was going to get his own back at some point, but would rather it didn’t happen in front of your brother and his friends.

“Thanks, Y/N. Alex smiled at you as you tied your hair up into a messy topknot. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Luke’s eyes widen.

“Wait, sis. What’s that?” Reggie walked over to you, his eyes glued to the side of your neck. Without thinking, you lift your hand and wince when you touch your neck. Automatically, your eyes lift to look at Luke who has the balls to grin at you.

“Is that a hickey?” Alex asks, leaning in for a closer look. “Girl, you’ve been marked.” He laughs. As he moves away from you, he notices what’s passing silently between you and Luke and you hear him utter ‘oh shit’ under his breath before he and Bobby excuse themselves to head out of the room.

“Uh…” is all you manage to say while Reggie squints at you.

“I didn’t know you had a boyfriend.” He comments, blissfully ignorant. “Bit of a coincidence that both…” He trails off, suddenly looking at you and Luke.

“Reg…” You start to speak, but he holds a hand up to cut you off.

“Not you. Him.”

You watch as Luke covers his body with another shirt and take a deep breath before turning to one of his best friends.

“Reggie… it just happened.”

“What, you tripped, and your dick landed in my sister? Try again asshole.”

“Reg, it wasn’t like that, and although you’re pissed, I know you know that.” Luke stands next to you and takes hold of your hand, raising it to kiss the back of your knuckles. “But all I can say is that I love her, with all my being. Neither of us wanted to hurt you, which is why we kept it quiet at first. Then it just got harder to come clean the longer it went on.”

“Hang on, how long have you two been a thing?” His voice was less angry and hurt, but you could still see something in his eyes. Letting go of Luke’s hand you pulled your brother into a hug.

“Reg, I adore you. You’re the best little brother I could ever have asked for, but you can’t control my life. Me and Luke are a thing, a serious thing, I’m afraid you’re just going to have to get used to it.”

“How long, Y/N?”

“A year or so.” You waited for him to explode.

“Well, that explains so much.” With a grin, he turns to Luke. “Break her heart, I’ll smash up your favorite guitar.”

With a wink in your direction, Reggie left the room.

“Well, that went better than expected.” Luke gathered you in his arms and kissed you deeply.

For once, you didn’t have to hide, and it felt amazing.

Tagging:

@dream-a-little-bigger-x @calamitykaty @crybabyddl @morganayennefertyrell @lovesanimals @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve @echocharm17618 @kinda-really-lost @n0wornever

#jatp #jatp fic #luke patterson fic #Luke Patterson Imagine #Luke Patterson x Reader #Mich writes fic

148 notes · View notes

rachelbethhines · 4 years

Text

Tangled Salt Marathon - Happiness Is

This is possibly my favorite episode of season two. Yet, it is also the point the where the series starts to fall off a cliff. Only that’s not something that you would realize upon a first watch; just in hindsight and only with some basic knowledge of the behind the scenes drama that led to this and the fall out with the fandom that followed afterwards.

Summary: Rapunzel begins to feel homesick for Corona when she finds an old letter written by her father in one of the many lanterns sent from her previous birthdays. In attempts to uplift her spirits, Rapunzel explores the island and comes across a magical idol that brings instant happiness to whomever possesses it. Rapunzel begins to hallucinate her family and friends back in Corona and soon shares the idol with the rest of the group. However, everyone starts to become obsessive over the idol, desperately wanting it for themselves. Rapunzel tricks everyone into giving her the idol, but when the Lorbs try to help Rapunzel, they fall under the idol's control and soon begin to terrorize the village.

Let’s Start with the First Elephant in the Room; Frederic

So throughout the episode Rapunzel is struggling with being homesick. Which is fair enough, that’s an understable reaction to being on the road for months by now. However, to showcase this Rapunzel keeps seeing hallucinations of her father. There are some other characters too, but her dad is the first person she sees and the only one in Corona with speaking lines. He’s the one to tempt her with the idol.

Did we just forget that Frederic is her abuser?

Look, even if you accept his apology in Secret of the Sundrop and believe he has learned his lesson, that doesn’t just erase the pain he caused her. Her thoughts about her father should be more realistically complex then this. Now add in how she makes a such a clean break from her other abuser, Gothel, but still holds him on a pedestal shows a disturbing bias on the part of the writers.

Also where’s this love for Arianna? You know the only real mother on the show? The show that’s aimed at little girls? The one parent who hasn’t flat out abused the main character yet?

Seriously, Chris, what the fuck?

This is a Missed Opportunity

So part of the reason why I like this episode is that we get insights into each of the characters and their desires. As such this is one of the few episodes where the group actual feels like a group friends. However, Cass’s vision is wasted here.

So at first glance this seems to aline with what we know of the character thus far. She loves her dad and wishes to impress him. That’s only if you take season one into account, though. Later episodes will contradict this goal. If you wanted to set up praise and validation in general as Cassandra’s motives, then here is where that should have happened.

Show her getting a medal, have cheering crowds surround her, have her be a hero, or something. You can’t claim her relationship with her parents as the driving force of behind her later actions if you don’t actually involve one of those parents as part of the resolution to her arc.

Either she lacking attention from her dad or she’s jealous of Rapunzel. You can’t have it be both because those two things don’t intersect. Rapunzel is not and never was a threat to her relationship with her father.

So Umm...I Don’t Think This Plot Point Has the Impact That the Writers Think It Does

So this hilarious, and it is intended to be funny, but it’s not for the reasons that the show gives.

The idea is that this is some shocking revelation. That Rapunzel would never do this under normal circumstances and it’s a hint that the idol is corrupting her.

Only the rest of the series doesn’t aline with that at all. This is just the real Rapunzel behaving as the she normally would but without the usual veneer of excuses.

It’s funny because it’s the show calling out Rapunzel hypocrisy for what it is plainly, not because it’s out of character.

But funny only gets you so far. The show is perfectly happy to play up Rapunzel’s awfulness for laughs, but then conventily ignore it when it comes time for the characters themselves to call her out on it so that she can grow and learn.

The show runs under the sitcom idea that comedy excuses all sins; which then backfires horribly when it tries to be serious and mature.

You can’t joke that the king threw a random person in a stockade for little reason and then expect us to still like him when he persecutes a child. Same applies here.

The sitcom set up only works when there is minimal at stake and all parties involved are equally awful in their own ways.

Then Why Not Just Go Home?

Once again, there’s nothing at stake in season two. Rapunzel has no real reason to be on this trip. Nothing is stopping her from just going home if that’s what she wants. The idol only makes her happy because it shows her want she wants, but she could actually have what she wants as soon as the next ship arrives. So what’s the issue here?

This is why you need external conflict in order to make internal conflicts work. There’s has to be something preventing the main character from achieving her goal or otherwise she just comes across as a dumbass.

And Now Here Comes the Second Elephant; Varian

I have several things to talk about here, and none of them actually concern the scene itself but the creator’s treatment of the character and the show’s fan base.

For you see, Chris did a very, very stupid thing.

He wrote the character driving the plot out of the show. The character who also happens to be the most popular person in the series. Only to then use said character’s VA and this one cameo as promotion for this whole season.

Needless to say, fans were disappointed.

However, the Tangled fandom is exceedingly polite; more so than most. The lack of Varian was met mostly with confusion, and maybe a few off handed jokes, rather than anger. When opportunity arose people naturally had questions concerning the character.

And that’s when Chris put his foot in mouth.

This Tumblr post details how Chris got kicked off the Tangled The Series Discord by bullying a bunch of Varian fans while on there.

https://starxapple.tumblr.com/post/617852117763391488/zhantiri-uuugh-fine-since-people-are-getting

I shan’t get into it fully, but for those who discovered the show after season two had aired, this caused a massive backlash from the fandom.

A good chunk of the fandom just walked away, and rightly so. The few that stuck around despite these remarks found themselves harassed by certain sections of the fandom who saw Chris’s bullying as permission to pursue the same behavior. However, most importantly, the ratings plummeted.

Season one hovered around the the 1 million mark, give or take a five point difference. The first part of season two dropped to half of that, and after this episode and the hiatus it sunk even lower, down to the mid-thirties. That’s over 20,000 people who just jumped ship over this. That’s not a normal decline.

No matter what your personal feelings are of the character of Varian or how he was handled in the show, that’s still a massive PR fassico that cost the series big time.

To add to this mountain of bullshit, there was also a massive walk out of crew members after season one had finished production. Most of them women. They even desperately threw out ‘we’re hiring’ calls to cover this. Which given that’s it’s Disney and that nepotism is usually how one gains employment in the entertainment industry, something unusual must have happened behind the scenes. Especially if most of the people who left were women.

We’ll probably never know what really happened. People don't usually talk about behind the scenes stuff like that due to contracts and the aforementioned nepotism. However, all clues point to Varian.

Something changed at the last minute concerning his story. Chris himself had confirmed as much when discussing the note and the Brotherhood. We also gotten other hints that content was edited out at the last minute. Plus the writing becomes more shoddy as the series goes along, showing how slapped dashed everything is together.

Then there’s the rumors.

I must stress to you that this is only a rumor. As pointed out earlier, most animators aren’t in a position to talk freely about what goes on behind the scenes. Do NOT harass them over it or make things awkward by asking them to clarify this. However it’s been suggested that the female crew warned Chris that removing Varian from season two and re-writing his story, along with making Cass the villain, would be a bad idea before they left and Chris didn’t listen. Much to his folly.

Chris is no longer a Disney employee and has yet to move on to any other projects. He says he left, but I more suspect that Disney just didn't renew his contract and no one has picked him up since. I take no joy in the idea that someone may have lost their job, but if true, then Chris has little to blame but himself.

So What Did Change?

We don't know anything for sure. We know from discussions about the note that there was a proposed Brotherhood plot that involved Varian that was then cut. There was also talks about a Cass and Varian team up in season three.

This was then changed to the Saporian take over, which is foreshadowed in this scene. However even that got edited down and under the flimsiest of excuses.

One of the writers, Ricky, suggested that they thought cutting back to Corona would be too confusing for the audience; which is a load of bull. I mean how poorly do you think of your audience’s comprehension skills that they wouldn’t understand a change of scene or a flashback? Yet you fully expect them to pick up on your lazy foreshadowing involving the mirror? So much so that you sent them on a quest to find it between seasons two and three.

Then there’s this gem from Chris.

Ok ignoring the fact that you so totally could have featured both Gothel and Varian, seeing as they serve two different functions in the story and mean different things to Rapunzel.... What guilt?!!!

Rapunzel doesn’t ever act guilty over anything involving her treatment of Varian.

That’s when you realize Chris isn’t talking about her feeling guilty about Varian’s predicament. He’s saying that Rapunzel feels guilty of leaving her father behind with this ‘dangerous’ criminal. Which is a big fuck you to everyone.

That’s why Frederic is the center focus of Rapunzel’s hallucinations. Why she’s more concerned for his safety over Varian’s trauma. Chris really be out here trying to use the abused 14/15 year old orphan as a scapegoat for the grown ass dictator who ruined countless lives. Because he thinks a grown woman should feel guilty for leaving her abusive father behind and pursuing her life’s dream.

Dude, I try not to assume the worst of people just cause they write fictional characters that I dislike, but Chris really makes things hard not to when he treats his self insert this way.

Oh but we’re not done yet.

When Varian Fans Complain About the Lack of Varian; We’re Complaining About the Lack of a Coherent Plot.

Certain sections of the fandom, bolstered by Chris’s BS, try to act like simply being a Varian fan is grounds for dismissal of any criticism of the show and it’s writing. As if having personal preference for something makes you automatically ‘entitled’ or some such bull. Yet doing so ignores the fundamental complaint that they are making.

We’re not whining about our favorite character not getting enough screen time. No one would have complained about his lack of presence in season two if they had properly resolved his story in season three and had Chris not been a dick to the fans. But it becomes evidently clear as the series goes along that removing Varian left a major hole in the plot. One that makes the entire story and the rest of characters suffer as well.

Think season two is boring? That’s cause they cut out their main villain at the last minute and failed to replace him with anything.

Upset that Hookfoot was brought along for zero reason? He’s the replacement character for Varian who no doubt was going to appear in season two originally.

Wish there was more on the Brotherhood and the Dark Kingdom? Their story impact was greatly reduced when Varian was written out.

Are you a Eugene fan and mad about how the Dark Prince plot went nowhere? That’s cause the original Brotherhood/Dark Kingdom plot was dropped when Varian was.

Dislike how Cassandra’s character was ruined with her villain arc? She was originally meant to be possessed but was changed last minute to be a Varian rip-off in the hopes that she would gain some of his popularity.

Wish Zhan Tiri, Demantius, and the Disciples actually went somewhere and that ZT had coherent plan? That plot were changed last minute to make Zhan Tiri a scapegoat for Cassandra now that her story was changed to replace Varian.

And of course let’s not ignore the character who suffers the most from lack of Varian.... Rapunzel.

Chris’s defense for leaving Varian out of S2 is that it’s “Rapunzel’s Story” and that Varian was only ever a plot device meant to push her along on her quest. Which means that Rapunzel no longer has anyone pushing her along on her quest!!!

All characters are plot devices. If they aren’t there to serve a story function then they need to be cut. Even Rapunzel herself serves a plot function. She’s meant to be the protagonist of a coming of age story. Which means she needs both an external conflict to face and an emotional arc where she grows as a person. Varian is the plot device that serves both of those functions but he’s now been removed and is no longer allowed to serve his original purpose.

Chris reached into the machine while it was running and pulled out one of the main gears and acted like he always meant to do that. He legit sat there and pretended that everything was running smoothly even as smoke poured out and warring alarms blared. He then tried to shove bubble gum in its place hoping no one would notice as everything fell apart around him.

Cause he’s the thing; no idea is without merit. It’s all about presentation. Removing Varian from season three still could have worked, but it required A.) replacing him with another foe and B.) making sure his arc still got a proper conclusion.

I’ll talk more about Varian’s half-arsed redemption when we get to it; but for now let's focus on the more immediate problem. No one thought to give season two an actual overarching conflict in light of Varian’s absence.

That’s a fundamental oversight that pretty much signals that season two was re-written at the last minute. You have an overarching plot in an action adventure show but no main adversary? I refuse to believe that everyone involved was too stupid to do that on purpose; but if they were rushed and lacked a crew because they walked out due to last minute story changes....yeah that’d I buy.

Because there’s more than enough options to go around; Lady Caine, The Baron and Styalan, Hector and/or Adria, Zhan Tiri’s Disciples ect. were all options. So was keeping the rocks a threat, or have Cass start her villian arc earlier; with proper motivation this time. They could have even come up with someone entirely new.

You had over four years to plan this shit out; why is it not more well put together?!

How Come Rapunzel Can Easily Admit Fault to Pascal But Not Anyone Else?

Pascal should have sat perched on Varian’s and Eugene’s shoulders giving Rapunzel ‘I’m done with this’ looks all throughout season three. It’s apparently the only thing that she responds to.

Why is the untalkative camelanion the only one allowed to call out the main character’s BS without going villain?

Conclusion

That’s all there really is to talk about in this story. The actual episode itself is good. It’s the behind the scenes crap that bubbles underneath its surface that needed to be discussed. That way when going forward with the marathon you’ll better see what I’m talking about when I explain how future episode suffered from the lack of planning and foresight.

#Varian #tangled #anti-tangled #anti-rapunzel #cassandra #tangled the series #rapunzel's tangled adventure #tts #rta #king frederic

185 notes · View notes

wherearemyglassesbro · 3 years

Text

Omg omg omg omg everyone be quiet right now thank you @heyheyjay for THIS

For starters, it would absolutely have a very negative effect on Fran’s relationship with Arthur. He’s aware it’s irrational and his feelings are based on personal issues but having his rival/friend/lover defend a murderer? And have that murderer get away? Oh no, Fran would probably not talk to him for awhile after. Not because he’s mad AT Arthur, he just has to sort out his own feelings. He’s a complex guy and his feelings are like balls of colored yarn all tangled together. He has to take time to sort it all out and come to a conclusion. “I am not upset with you. I am upset with the outcome of that trial. I would like for us to go back to being friends again...If that’s alright...” he’s still closed off for awhile but eventually, he’ll open back up and go back to normal, the incident not forgotten but forgiven

The first two times Arthur saw Francis in a murder trial setting were VERY different. The first time, he was still somewhat of a rookie. He had gone up against Francis twice now in court and won both times. Now he wanted to study his way of speaking, his organization, his body language, that kind of stuff. So he sat in the crowd, off to the side out of the field of vison for the prosecutors booth.

Francis carried himself the same as usual. Confident and proud, speaking passionately on behalf of the victim, appealing to the jury. He did everything by the book and to be honest? Arthur was impressed. It was different watching him from the crowd than it was from the defense booth.

When Francis lost the trial, even Arthur was shocked. He watched him stiffly pack his papers away and leave the courtroom in a hurry. It was strange behavior for sure, something that he’d never seen before. Instead of his classic smile, he sported a frown and a look in his eyes that Arthur couldn’t place. To be nice, he caught up with him in the hallway “Look, I know I’m probably the last person you want to talk to but I want to let you know, you did fantastic in there. I don’t know how on earth you lost that-“ “Leave me alone, Kirkland” Francis all but shoved past him, making a beeline for his car. Arthur could hear the squeal of his tires from inside the courthouse

That was not the loud, extravagant Francis he knew. That was someone else, someone sad and angry...Maybe Francis was more complex than he thought (Spoiler alert: Yes. He is)

The second time he witnessed a loss, he was far closer with the Frenchman. He knew his mannerisms and his body language. The two were teetering on the edge of being in a relationship or just being super close friends. Francis didn’t want Arthur to go to this trial but he insisted “It’s my day off. I’ll come support you and we can go to lunch afterwards. No big deal. I like seeing you in court” Francis was reluctant but had him sit in the second row anyways for moral support

Again, he did everything right. Arthur was criticizing the defense in his head ‘you dolt, you’re talking too much. It’s giving Francis the upper hand’. Of course he wanted Francis to win. Even as a defense attorney himself, he knows a guilty face when he sees one. He’s once again shocked when Francis loses

This time he notices how his hands shake, clenching and unclenching. There’s tension in his shoulders, the mask of confidence gone from his face. He was fighting to suppress a frown, swallowing around the lump of guilt in his throat

Francis apologized to his clients when the court was released, hugging them and shaking their hands, promising paperwork in the mail....yadda yadda. Arthur noticed how tired he looked, the way his shoulders now sagged in defeat

“You did great out there love” “I don’t need your pity, Arthur” “I’m not pitying you. You did everything right” “Apparently not”

Arthur led him to the parking lot, cupping his cheeks when they were out of the public eye “I know how it feels to lose something big like this. It stings, I know. However, it isn’t the end of the world”

“‘It isn’t the end of the world’? Are you kidding me? You’ll never-! Forget it. I’m going home” “Francis? We were-“ “I don’t care about lunch” and with that, he got in his car and sped off, tires screeching once again

Arthur is invited over for dinner later on, Francis apologizes for the way he reacted and Arthur assures him that it was no big deal. He expresses his emotions differently than Arthur does and he is still getting used to it! And this is Francis’s first relationship since Jeanne so he’s still re-learning how to open up about more serious or intense feelings. There’s a learning curve for them both.

So I also I think I’m gonna talk about Jeanne again cause I WAS gonna have a single post dedicated to her effect on Fran and Art’s relationship but I think lll....Just go over it here. There is a small fic at the end but I can’t even really call it that, it’s 2 paragraphs of text lol so yeah :)

More under the cut cause this is getting long and I feel bad clogging your dashes :0

So Art knew about Jeanne before he really knew Francis personally. Before he goes up against prosecutors, he asks Eliza about them and their argument styles, stuff like that. She advised him to stay away from murder trials if Fran managed to get his hands on one and since he didn’t know about Jeanne he was like ‘pfftt what? You think I can’t take him?’ And she was like ‘No...He can’t take you’ oh...

Eliza told him like...The bare minimum. Francis’s girlfriend was killed behind a small party store and he was the one who discovered her body. That’s all he knew about it

But when he and Fran started to get serious relationship-wise Francis decided to sit him down to have a talk with him, pouring his heart out to him after a long, draining day at the courthouse:

// Uhhhh tw for the rest for death mention and description of finding Jeanne after her death. Like...blood and all so if that makes you uncomfortable: this is your warning :0 //

“We dated for five years. From eight grade to twelfth...It was like we were joined at the hip. We were always together wether it be baking in the kitchen, studying at the library, going to the movies or attending church camp. We did it all together. Hell...In highschool, we were voted ‘cutest couple’ every year. She was my date for every school dance and she would have been my prom date too if... If she had lived” Francis choked out a sad laugh “She had the most beautiful dress picked out and I had a suit to match. She was so excited about it...”

“That day was my nightmare. I relive that day over and over again in my dreams, thinking about everything I could have done to prevent that outcome. I should have taken her to the store earlier. I should have gone in with her. I shouldn’t have answered the phone and gotten distracted when my friend called. She was in there for forty minutes just to grab some streamers and a bag of candy for a piñata... When I went in to look for her she wasn’t there. I looked around, called her name, called her phone...no answer. The cashier helped me look too as I started getting worried. In the bathrooms, the stock room, the janitors closet, behind the refrigerators...All that was left was the rear exit. She didn’t go out there right? No...that was unlike her...” tears started to slowly make their way down his cheeks “When we pushed the door open, I remember seeing the pool of blood right there on the ground and thinking it was just a puddle. How wrong was I. My legs moved on their own, I rounded the corner and there she was. Her hair was covered in blood from the gash across her temple, her favorite floral blouse ripped and dirty. Her purse was gone. She was just laying there on the dirty, cold asphalt” Francis shook his head, rubbing his face as the memory replayed once more

“Out of the corner of our eyes, the cashier and I saw the perpetrator and he chased him down, catching him and sitting on him until the police arrived. I called them...I don’t even remember making the call but I distinctly remember them telling me not to touch her- not to mess with the ‘evidence’. I didn’t listen. I sat in the pool of blood and held her until the ambulance arrived, petting her hair as she slowly went cold in my arms...Praying that just maybe she’d make it. They were too late. I was too late.”

“What was it all for, you ask? That evil son of a bitch wanted her money. She only had $10 on her that day. He killed her over $10! And after all of my pain, her family’s suffering, that fucker got to walk free after two years? Two years! It isn’t fair at all. I don’t mean to ramble too much but before you and I become anything too serious I just- I need you to know about her. She made me who I am today, she’s the reason I practice law, she’s always here with me” he clutched his cross necklace in his shaky hand “Just because I still love her does not mean I love you any less, Arthur. I will always be here for you but at the same time, I will be there for her. I’ll still visit her grave and her parents...I’ll have her picture on the mantle...”

Arthur reached out to rest a hand on the blond’s arm. This was a new side of Francis he hadn’t seen before. Sure he knew about Jeanne by now, he had seen her picture in Francis’s apartment. He knew the other took the two hour trip up north to visit Jeanne’s grave and her family every other month. He knew she was important to him but he had never heard the full story like this before. He truly didn’t know the extent of the damage that day had done “I understand, dear. If Jeanne is important to you, she’s important to me. She’ll always have a place here with us” he assured, pulling Francis in to hug him against his chest to let him cry “I don’t think I can begin to express how badly I feel for you. But you can always confide in me, I’ll be here because I lo-like you a lot. I want you to be open with me. This...is a lot to bottle up” Francis nodded and wiped his eyes as Arthur brushed his curls out of his face “If it isn’t overstepping any boundaries, maybe I could come up north with you next time you go to visit her?”

“I...I think I’d like that. I’ve already told her and her family about you. I’m sure they’d love to meet you”

———

Well I hope that wasn’t bad! I haven’t written in a fic format in uhhh hehe a year or so so...yeah! Anyways! Yup! That’s all for now :) ❤️ thanks for reading this far if y’all did!!!!

((Looking back I hate the formatting of the ficlet thingy but tbh there’s not much I can do about it now :) ))

#lawyer au :)#aph england #aph france #Fruk #I feel bad putting this in the h/talia tags so uhhh....yeah #I only used those three for blog navigation so...sorry :)#anyway!!! this was a lot of fun!!#enjoy the word vomit ❤️😄

28 notes · View notes

stayndays · 4 years

Text

𝐊𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐑 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆

𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟏 : Leaving Isn’t an Option

𝐖𝐀𝐑𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆! This chapter includes:

(Pretty Heavy) Gore (ngl i went pretty hard with the descriptions)

Blood

Murder

A Knife

A Corpse

Foul Language

𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐒𝐘𝐍𝐎𝐏𝐒𝐈𝐒 : “You came here to assist your boss at a party he’s invited to, not to solve a murder with a group of strangers you’ve just met. Yet here you are, staring at the dead mansion owner who hosted the party in the first place, surrounded by nine men with high statuses in society: and one of them is a murderer. The question is who? And can you solve the mystery without being killed yourself?”

Visit the masterlist first before proceeding. It has all the info you need to read this series.

You let out a pierced scream at the sight below your feet.

The mansion owner, and host of this glamorous party, is on the floor. Arms spread. Eyes closed.

A slit on his throat and his stomach oozing out blood.

His pale skinned body on the floor of the living room is a sight to behold.

The necktie that was once tightly wrapped around his neck now lingers along his chest, showing off the large cut across the entirety of his neck. Hair disheveled and clothes tossed around, you couldn’t bear to imagine what his last thoughts were as he was practically sliced and diced. You cringed as his stained shirt revealed the huge slices through his skin, trickling blood onto the floor by the second. Then you realize the knife, looking tremendously similar to your kitchen knife, that performed the action was still impaled into the body, making you squirm and gasp with a shiver.

There’s no way this was just an accident.

Your ears detect clacking against the sleek wooden planks, and the fabrics of ball gowns flowing across the floor. They, like you, also shriek in horror. A few men curse in surprise. A handful shout, frightened. Your vision grows cloudy and you almost feel like you’re about to faint, until a figure calmly approaches the party host.

One of the party guests, who happens to be one of the few you conversed with thoroughly at the party despite your status and goes by the name of Felix, slowly walks over to the body as if he has a limp. He kneels down on the opposite side of the wounded stomach, legs trembling slightly, and gently presses his thumb onto the vain of the body’s wrist.

Felix waits for a few seconds before turning towards the crowd. He scans the faces of the guests: some sobbing, some showing no remorse at all. Felix clears his throat before saying two words.

“No pulse.”

The mansion owner is dead.

The man to the right of you, who you remember goes by the name of Jeongin, starts quivering out of control, jaw shivering as if he were freezing. You turn towards him and share a sympathetic look, rubbing his back up and down with your hand. You notice the tears in his eyes before perking up at a sudden scream in the crowd.

You look behind you and see a woman in a rose gold attire, tears quickly running down her cheeks and ruining her glamorous makeup.

“This- This isn’t good. This can’t- I can’t, no.. No!” Panic overtakes her voice, her jaw shaking in denial and utter fear. She scurries to bunch up her dress in her hands and bolts out the front door, as an older gentleman, undoubtedly her plus one to the lavish event, rushes to follow her.

Then you see more heads running past you, like a flock of sheep being chased by the shepherd’s loyal companion. The living room going from mumbled panic to incoherent shouting, echoing throughout the entirety of the mansion. Bodies slamming against your shoulders as you stare in disbelief at the evening light, leaving a path of orange and red colors down the floor. You recognize the hairdos of a group of actresses, who seemed to have sobered up from all the champagne and wine they drank this evening. The clean cut appearances of high class businessmen, with a fortune more than you could ever even possibly dream of, who you saw attempting to strike up a deal with the mansion owner. One of them, you realize, happens to be your boss, almost pathetically dashes through the front door.

It’s mayhem in the mansion, as the celebrities you admire and the CEOs you fear suddenly become cowards when faced with the horror of death, going into flight mode instead of fight.

You decide to fly as well.

Your legs finally decide to function once again, after getting over their paralyzed state when your eyes drifted towards the corpse on the maroon carpet. You turn back for a split second, not to see the body but to gather information on who’s left in the mansion, and turn back around. Seven- or was it eight? Men, some looking like this isn’t the first dead body they’ve seen, and the rest are still either in a state of shock or grief.

You could see the light. The evening glow of the sunset, painting yellows and oranges and faint red and purple into the sky, as the wispy clouds gracefully float across. The door is about to close at any second, you notice that you’re the last one that will exit the building. Extending a hand out to ensure your escape, you were ready to finally breathe in some fresh air, and not one of overpriced perfume and cologne.

That is, until a gentle, yet firm grip on your wrist stops you from progressing any further, preventing you from achieving freedom.

“Please don’t go.”

You whip your head around, startled at the sudden physical contact. You meet eyes with Bang Chan, who you conversed with once or twice before you discovered the body now etched permanently into your mind. “Please, you could help. Since you were the one who first saw the body, you could tell me what fully occurred. You don’t even have to stay the entire time! I’ll let you leave if you’d like.”

His hushed, reassuring voice makes you feel like you’re being serenaded by a siren. You swear your eyes turn cloudy as you stare at him. Suddenly, leaving the mansion didn’t seem like your top priority at the moment. Suddenly, you could only faintly hear the front door closing behind you and Chan’s arm brushing against yours.

And then you realized. Oh, Chan is an attorney. Of course he wants you to stay.

“Just hear me out for a second,” Chan persuades you with a hint of desperation in his voice. You could only nod timidly, mouth slightly open, as he places his hand on your back and guides you back to the living room.

“What a bunch of cowards! Big names who can’t handle events like these, who don’t want to get involved for the sake of their status.” The voice comes from the man with a slick, black velvet coat around his shoulders, slumped forward on the leather chair, his feet pointing towards the corpse. His loud volume that pounds against your eardrums is enough to snap you out of your daze. You don’t recall speaking to the man at the party, but you remember your boss calling him Changbin.

Were you foolish for staying? Should you have gone with the others out the front door? But if you leave now, you would surely get a shout from that guy.

“I’d say we just leave the body and the mystery to the professionals themselves, actually,” A young man speaks up. You recall talking to him a couple of times during the event, introducing himself as Seungmin before you got pulled away once again by your demanding boss.

“Then why are you here?” Changbin fires back at the boy, who’s voice starts to stuttering at the sudden question.

“Uh- Listen- I’m-”

Chan is the one who speaks up, crossing his arms over his chest. “Although I’d love for you all to have a choice on whether you can stay or not, I unfortunately have to keep you all here-”

Hyunjin, who you recall as the one with long, blond hair and a poor way of handling alcohol, suddenly jumps up from the leather couch he was slouching on. “Are you out of your mind?! I wasn’t able to leave in time because I was confused on what was happening, and now you want all of us to stay in this mansion with a dead body?”

Chan’s shoulders slouches at Hyunjin’s reasoning, taking in a deep breath before calmly explaining, “Look, I understand, you would like to get out of here as soon as possible. However, I interrogate criminal suspects at my day job,” Hyunjin visibly gulps when Chan mentions what he does for a living. ��and I would appreciate if I could interview each and every one of you. Especially you, Y/N, since you were the first one who found the body.”

Suddenly, at the attention in the room shifts from Chan to you. Feeling intimidated by the sixteen pairs of eyes staring directly at you, you simply choose to just nod.

“You’re sure you’ll let us out though?” Somebody else blurts out in retaliation, and you turn your head to one of the talkative guests of the party, Han Jisung, with his swept back brown hair and suspenders under his coat. “You’re sure, positively sure, that when you closed that front door, you didn’t lock us in here?” Jisung points at the grand, gray door, with black stained glass in the center, raising an eyebrow at Chan. The door has a key lock, along with a handle. You could barely see what’s outside of the house through the glass.

Felix audibly sighs at Jisung’s what-if question, rising from his seat to check the front door. He extends his arm out to reach the door handle. “I’m sure Chan wouldn’t do such a thing-”

He turns the handle. It’s jammed.

The door doesn’t open.

“The fuck-” Felix continues attempting to open the front door. He shakes the doorknob vigorously before slowing down, attempting to open it one last time before letting his hand fall down back to his side.

Chan is stunned, walking over to where Felix is to check himself whether the door was truly unlocked or not. His try also has no success, deepening the furrow on his brows.

“So you did do something, Chan!” The man with the trench coat, Lee Minho, exclaims, both in fury and in astonishment. “Where’s that key to open the door, huh?”

By the time Minho is done with his shouting, the rest of you have gathered at the front of the door, almost surrounding Chan who’s trapped against the front door.

“Listen! I didn’t do anything. I didn’t realize that when the door would close, we’d lock ourselves in here. Does- Can anybody check if the key to the front door is still on the host’s body?”

Minho lets out a groan of frustration, running his hands through his hair before while strolling on over to the body laying dead in the center of the living room. He kneels down onto the floor, carefully avoiding the bloody part of the carpet, and starts checking the corpse’s clothes.

“Although I operate on patients while they’re unconscious, “ Minho claims, digging through each individual pocket of the mansion owner’s coat. “This- God, why are there so many pockets- is a little bit stranger because he isn’t breathing. At all.” He searches around a little bit more, checking each and every nook and cranny he could find hidden, but has no luck in finding the key.

Shaking his head, he slowly stands back up, cleaning the palm of his hands on the front of his dress jeans and approaches the group once again. “Nothing, absolutely nothing,” Minho casually shrugs nonchalantly

“So we’re really stuck here? We can’t bust down the door or break open a window, nothing?” Jeongin speaks up for the first time since the majority of the party guests left the crime scene, seemingly dry from any remaining tears. “I get it if we don’t want to risk injuring ourselves to break down this door, but a window on the other hand-”

As if on cue, you flinch as the sound of glass shattering pierces your ears, and you see dirt, flower petals, and pieces of a vase fall onto the floor. The dirty, yet still in tact window in the room and Seungmin’s soil covered hand tells you that he tried throwing a flower vase to destroy the window.

“Shit, okay, that didn’t work. That must be super durable glass, then,” Seungmin concludes, pointing at the undamaged window and throwing his hands up in the air in exaggeration.

“That means this door must be sturdy as hell, too,” Felix curses at the realization.

“I’ll just call the emergency hotline to pick us up and get us out of here, then,” Changbin starts walking back to the living room without any further comments. That is, before you stop him from progressing any further.

“Don’t even bother at this point. I tried using the telephone for my boss earlier at the party; it was just static on the other end,” you argue against Changbin’s suggestion. “It’s the 1900s, anyways. Do you really think the emergency responders will pick us up right away?”

Changbin scoffs at your reasoning, “Fine, I’ll give you the win for now, but now what?”

“It’s no use guys. We’re stuck here,” Minho, who’s also related to the mansion owner, announces to the group, as if it weren’t already obvious enough.

Jeongin shivers at Minho’s words. “T-Then what do we do?”

“Then what..? THEN WHAT?! There’s a possible killer in this mansion, are you kidding me?” Han shouts aggressively at Jeongin, who flinches backwards as Chan holds Han back from gripping Jeongin’s collar.

“If they were smart enough, they would’ve left the place with the others, though!” You try to speak up, believing that the last thing the nine of you need is a conflict between each other.

“But what if they want to kill… more people?” Jeongin stutters quietly, but his words echo throughout the entire house, sending chills down everybody’s spine. Until Han had brought it up, you never thought about one of these men being a traitor in disguise, an impostor, a liar.

Minho finally speaks up, probably after turning the gears in his head for a minute or two. “Then if we don’t eliminate the killer in time, we’ll all get murdered in the end, and they’ll get away with it. Suspect interrogations take a long time to do, right? So Chan won’t have enough time to interview everybody before the murderer does something. If somebody from the party who escaped happens to call the police, they won’t arrive for hours because the mansion is so far away from the nearest station. That means…”

“We have to solve this murder ourselves,” Felix finishes his sentence with ease, coming out of the shadows.

“You’re crazy,” you can’t help opening your mouth and sputtering those words at Seungmin and Felix. You’re a secretary assistant for the chairman of an extremely successful business, not a professional detective.

“What? Are you just gonna give up now, or actually try and help us? You’d be a real coward if you forfeit now,” Hyunjin notes harshly, almost offended by your comment.

He had a point though. If you die tonight, at least you’d die trying to do something good. You can’t leave this place anyways, even if you tried your hardest. So that leaves…

JOIN OR ESCAPE?

Oh, how wonderful! You made it through the first chapter. Scared yet? The fun’s just getting started. Unfortunately, my red text isn’t working. That’s makes me a little bit sad.

Fun Fact: This is the longest piece of work the author has ever written! 2.5k words, I’ll allow a small round of applause for her.

Chapter 2 is when the real fun can begin, though, as you’ll be approached with your first decision path! Are you ready, players? I hope you are.

Good luck. May the Killer King spare you today.

taglist: @desertofdessert @crscendoforsung @cotccotc @poeticallyspaghetti @skzctnightnight @dreamy-dreamies @nizhonimoon @hanniiesuckle17 @binniesbabybear @tsuki-moon @lbxgsunshine @csbverse @mangoisawesome @yunhoesss @wherevermyway @golden--rain @bubblyjisunq @kimpchi @loey-letters @pokyloky @worldtriiiip @avrea-tt

84 notes · View notes

intubatedangel · 3 years

Text

Cold Snap: Chapter 4

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 |

Anna walked through into the large living room, turning to the TV. Carl was stood beside the counter, phone to his ear, gaze locked on the screen. A newscast was showing aerial footage from a helicopter. A banner along the bottom was headlined with MOMENTS AGO, and scrolling text described the scene. Not that it needed much describing. The boat was pouring with smoke, people crowded on the fore deck. Anna watched, gasping as the fuel tank explosion sent a gout of flame into the air and shook everyone on board.

"Anna?" Sara asked on the phone.

"I saw." She gulped, exchanging a glance with Carl. They both nodded. Their plans for the day would have to wait. "We'll be right there." Anna told Sara, before hanging up, she headed into the bathroom, grabbing two towels. She tossed one into the sink, soaking it in warm water. She gave her chest a quick scrub to remove the lingering gel, then wiped away as much sweat as she reasonably could. It was an old trick nursing school trick, when you had a short break and needed to freshen up. It would have do. Carl entered the bathroom behind her, and she handed him the wet towel, using the other to dry herself.

They didn't say anything, both processing what they had seen. Not in the way that someone in shock might have to process an event. They were going over the details they had seen. The footage wasn't great, but the signs of blood and bandages were pretty clear. There was the fire factor too, and given how cold the river was, hypothermia could be a big complication. Carl's mind was focused on treatments for the worst case scenarios. Anna thought more about the bigger picture. Triage and dividing her nurses to cover as many bases as possible safely and quickly.

Once dry she slipped around Carl and went to the wardrobe. Grabbing her last set of spare underwear and scrubs. She changed with a sense of urgency, Carl joining her soon after. Anna didn't waste any time sorting her hair. She ran a brush through it a couple of times, then fixed it in a basic ponytail. She went to the living room and looked through the window, down to the road. Traffic was already slowing down, with the river road likely blocked and emergency vehicles overriding lights in multiple directions. The police department would be clearing routes to the hospital, but none would pass this way.

She heard Carl coming though, dressed and ready. She looked at him and shook her head as she went to the front door. "Walking will be quicker." He nodded and they both left the apartment.

The kettle finished it's 5-minute boiling cycle.

* * *

Jones ran towards the back of the boat, waving his arms at one point as the boat rocked, presumably a patrol boat pushing off. It wasn't big enough to be another explosion. He hadn't considered the prospect but thought it unlikely. What was left to explode? As he neared the back of the boat, he could feel the tilt getting more substantial as the rear compartments flooded first. A part of him hoped that the luggage area wasn't one of them. A hope that was dashed when he reached the top of the rear stairs.

The waterline was already halfway up the stairs, which with the tilt of the boat were now almost vertical. It was murky too, not the horribly polluted mess it had been in years gone by. For a city river it was remarkably clean. This was just the standard murk of a natural river, suspended silt and foam, plus whatever dirt was being pulled from the inside of the boat. He couldn't see any sign of the girl. He would have to go in. He pulled off the life jacket, which would only hinder him here, but grabbed the small waterproof flashlight.

Just looking at the water made him feel cold. He took a couple of deep breaths, gritted his teeth, and jumped in. He did his best to contain a half-scream-half-growl, as the cold water shocked his system. The initial shock over, he swore. Loudly. Then turned to the task at hand. Placing the flashlight between his teeth, hooked a foot under the steps, rotated to face down wards, then pushed off, cutting through the water.

It stung his eyes as he kept them open, looking for any sign. It didn't take him long. The girl, Shona the kid had said, had long blond hair that was spread out in the water, acting almost like a flag, guiding him to her. She was dead. Clinically at least. That much was obvious. Motionless, blue lips. He didn't bother checking for a pulse or trying to give her some air. It would be pointless with her lungs full of water. Her only hope was that the cold would prevent any major damage. Jones knew that cold water drowning was one of the best-case scenarios for a full recovery. He just had to get her out and get her to help as soon as possible.

He grabbed one of her arms, pulling on it, hoping it would be simple. But she was trapped. He pushed himself closer, down her body length, to get a good view of the cases covering her legs and waist. He could feel his own air starting to run low, but realigned himself, planting his feet against the floor, grabbing the heaviest case in both hands. He pushed off, taking the case with him, moving it just far enough to roll it away from the girl. He did the same for another case, then, lungs starting to burn, he took a chance. He got one arm around her waist, pulled her upper body closer to his shoulder with the other. Then, cradling her tightly, he pushed off in a smooth firm motion. The was a moment of resistance, as the bags and cases tried to keep hold of their prize, then they relented. Shona was free.

As soon as he felt it Jones kicked off the bottom, but his legs were almost fully extended already and there was no dramatic rush to the surface. He had to swim with his legs, each motion needing more oxygen. He could see the light from the stairs, and swam towards it, spitting out the flashlight, letting it sink away. He felt desperate as he crossed the final few yards.

With a great gasping breath he broke the surface, dragging in few deep lungful’s of air, remembering to breath out steadily and expel the co2 that must have been building. He rearranged the body in his arms, getting a better look at her. In the open air her hair had fallen and clung to her face. He brushed it away, without any tenderness, feeling how cold her skin was. He knew there was absolutely nothing he could do but get her out. And there was the problem. Submerged in the water he had been unable to really sense direction. During the short time he had been under, the boat had tilted further, enough that there was no chance of climbing the steps, not with a pulseless young woman in one arm.

* * *

Lucy watched the cop go rushing off, shaking her head. She wanted to go with him. Help him. But she was the only proper medic on board. And as she had told Jones, Patients come first. She got the splint wrapped around the young man’s arm. She didn't dare try to reduce the fracture herself. She had no idea how many knocks it taken. Instead, she used the splint to stabilise the bones as they were, loosely wrapping anti-septic coated bandages over the wound. It would do.

She followed it up with a neck brace, then waved over a cop. "I need a spinal board from a patrol boat, and some spare hands." She requested. The cop nodded, immediately going to do as she asked. She checked the young man’s pulse while she waited. It was rapid, a little thready, but not excessively concerning. The head injury could become a problem, but there wouldn't be anything she could do if he did have a brain bleed. The best thing would be to get him to a neuro unit as soon as possible, and in the meantime try to reduce his pain and stress levels. To that end she shot him up with a moderate dose of morphine, which seemed to calm him.

The cop returned with the orange board and two others. They should have all had training in spinal boards, it was part of the required first aid course for river patrol, but Lucy coached them through it just in case. They log rolled the young man, placing the board before rolling him back, then they tied down the straps, crossing his body and making everything secure. By the time they were done and Lucy could look around, she could see that they were the only ones left on board.

"Ok, nice and easy." She said, standing up slowly and in concert with the other three. It was only when she was standing that she realised how badly the boat was faring. Luckily the patrol boat was level with them, so they could shuffle sideways along the tilted deck, instead of having to walk up a 30-degree slope. They reached the edge of the boat and she directed two of them down into it, while she and the other balanced the spinal board on the rail.

Carefully they eased the board down into the patrol boat. Lucy looked out at the river. All the other boats were on their way to shore. She looked at the sinking rear of The Beetle. There was still no sign of Jones. "Do we wait?" A cop asked, clearly tracking her thinking. They were the last boat. The last chance for Jones and the possible casualty. She cursed, looking out over the river avoiding the eyes of the cops. They were putting the decision in her hands. Patients Come First.

She opened her mouth to speak, when she noticed something odd. One boat wasn't heading for shore. It was making a mad dash in their direction, skipping and bouncing on the waves of the river. "No." She ordered. "Get this one to shore. Go as fast as you smoothly can." She said starting to turn away.

"Wait, what about you?" The officer asked,

"Patients come first." Lucy told him. She rushed towards the cabin without looking back.

#Medical Drama #Cold Snap #Cpr #Defib #Resus writing #Anna Swift

14 notes · View notes

snowdice · 4 years

Text

Finding the Time to Study Fic 2 [Day 22]

Here is my starting post for today’s study break stories session. See this post for more details and feel free to send me asks to keep me going! It’s been a lot of fun so far! I will reblog this post with the story as I write them today. I’ll be constantly looking for ideas of times and places for Janus to have missions, so feel free to send in any you can think of at any point!

If you are a new follower or just don’t want all of these posts clogging your dash, please feel free to block the tag “study break stories” as all posts and voting about it will go there. You can still see the finished product of the story even if you are blocking that tag as I will not tag the edited chapters with “study break stories” but with the tag “folds in paper.” See edited chapters below. Chapters 3-8 and what I have of Chapter 9 are under the cut.

My Masterpost Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5

I also have a playlist on youtube (because Spotify didn’t have one of the songs I wanted). It’s short, and not really for serious listening, but I had fun with it.

The hope is to work on this for quite a bit today. Please come keep me company with asks if you feel so inclined.

Chapter 6

“Really, Khalid,” Janus said, storming into his boss’s office. “A yellow?” It had been about a week since the 1920s incident, and his incident report had finally been cleared. Sure, it wasn’t a red or a black and he wasn’t facing any reprimand, but it should have been a green.

She looked up at him, clearly unconcerned. “There was an incident,” she said. “You handled it well, but there was one. Therefore, yellow.”

“It wasn’t a time travel incident! It was a rouge time traveler.”

“Janus, you helped me make these rules,” she said impatiently.

“Which is why I know this is bullshit,” he snapped.

She rolled her eyes. “If it was anyone else, you would agree with me. While you didn’t go against protocol and had no time related incidents, the fact of the matter is, you were still distracted by this ‘rouge time traveler,’ didn’t complete your mission, and were arrested.”

“He was good,” Janus said. “You can’t fault me for that. He also could be dangerous and you’re busy handing out yellows instead of working to track him down.”

She raised an eyebrow. “We are working on tracking him down,” she said. “We have done an analysis on the mask and found fibers dating to the 2010s and some DNA. Though it isn’t exactly a high priority.”

“We have no idea who he is or what he’s planning to do. Why is that not a high priority thing?”

“At the moment?” she asked. “Because we have reports of a time bomb being activated.”

“What?” Janus asked sitting up. “When?”

“New Years Eve going into the year 3,000 in Brazil,” she said. “Which you’d know about if you’d bothered to check your integration port this morning before storming into my office.”

“It’s my mission?” Janus asked.

“The incident investigation is over and your active again despite the dreaded yellow,” she said, clearly making fun of him a bit. “So, yes, and it’s a high priority mission, so I’ll be running it.”

“Who all is going?” he asked.

“Other than the two of us, Remus, Lena, and Fred,” she told him. “We leave in three hours, so, you might want to run off to Rhi before Fred gets to her and ties her up for an hour on details.”

Janus nodded and got to his feet. He turned back at the door. “I still don’t deserve the yellow,” he hissed.

She waved him off. “I’ll see you in a few hours, Picani.”

He ground his teeth a bit about the dismissal of his worries, but his resentment was slightly soothed by the fact that she’d assigned him to go on such a high priority mission and with only senior agents.

He took the advice and grabbed Remus from the office, noting Lena hadn’t been able to wrangle Fred yet as she was still at her desk, and they both headed off to see Rhi.

A few hours later, they were all in decontamination together, decked out in truly god-awful costumes. The turn of the third millennia had been a wild event, and the best way to fit in was to look like you’d grabbed something from every century in recorded human history, dyed it in neon paint, and rolled around in a vat of glitter.

Remus had opted to stick his head in a vat of thick glow in the dark green paint that costuming had offered them, and it wasn’t even going to be slightly disruptive to their covertness. It was so caked on that Janus couldn’t even recognize him.

In fact, costuming had frowned when Janus had insisted he not get his hair dyed and instead wore a bowler hat. They had required him to have flowers made out of glitter on it.

There were five people waiting for them when they landed 6 hours before the turn of the millennia. Three were touchdown agents, including Remy, and two were on location tech support. Usually it would be overkill to have that many people there just for support even with five agents in the field, but today the TPI needed to be cautious because they were planning on instituting a time lock.

Time bombs were dangerous things that would ripple through time if not contained. Even if it did end up going off (killing everyone in its reach), the time lock would serve to prevent most damage outside of the city and, more importantly, the year it was planted.

Janus had only been in two time locks before, and he was one of the most senior agents in the TPI, outranked only by the founder: Lia Khalid. Time locks were designed to keep all time linear in a certain fixed time and geographical area as well as prevent any time travel in and out. Once it was engaged, all forms of time travel would not work for the duration, bar the pin device. Khalid was already switching out her regular timepiece with the slightly bigger one that was designed to support the time lock.

There was a failsafe back at the TPI that could be engaged in an emergency, which was why tech support was here, but other than that, the only thing that could break the time lock was that timepiece, and it would break the moment the time lock ended.

As soon as it was on Khalid’s wrist, she looked up at them all. “Our information says the time bomb was planted in the costume of one of the ‘Millennium Birds’ who are the organizers of the different events,” she said. Janus had seen a photo of the identical costumes in the mission details. They were all robe like garments with giant fans of feathers coming from the neck that coalesced in a peak a foot above their head to hold a fake bird egg. At least they’d be easy to find. “There are 25 of them throughout the city. We need to find each of them. So, we don’t double count, you’ll need to subtly,” her eyes touched on Remus, “scan each one you find for the bomb and tag them with a tracker if it’s not on them. You can view the already tagged ones, as well as the rest of us on your timepiece even once the time lock is engaged. When you find the bomb, call it in.”

They all nodded, and Khalid looked over at one of the techies. She nodded at her and then the techie flipped a couple of switches. “Three, two, one,” the techie said. There was a slight shift in the air that most people would disregard, but Janus as a seasoned time traveler could feel the change even before his wrist buzzed. He glanced at his timepiece to see it had a big red ‘X’ across its display. He tapped it and was still able to bring up the map of the city with 10 green dots on it all clustered together in their current location.

After that, he tested the scanner on his timepiece that he would use to search for the bomb, just to make sure the time lock hadn’t messed anything up with his equipment. He glanced up to see everyone else was doing the same.

“Keep in contact,” Khalid said before everyone split up. Janus and Remus started by going North while Fredrick and Darlene were to go South. Khalid was a floater who would tag any Birds she saw but was mostly there for backup and orders.

Janus and Remus stepped into the chaos of New Years Eve before the turn of the third millennia. The streets were already swamped with people and it would only be getting worse the later it go.

“Where should we start?” Remus asked.

“Let’s go all the way North to the games area,” Janus said. “We can work our way back here.”

“Okay!” Remus said. “I wonder if they have those fun little genetically modified goldfish as prizes. I’ve always wanted to eat one and see if I end up getting whatever design was on the fish on my body.”

Janus gave him a disgusted look.

“What?! People eat fish all the time!”

Janus shook his head. “We’re not playing the games anyway. We have work to do. Important work.”

“Boo,” Remus replied. Janus chose to ignore him as he spotted one of the Millenia Birds letting people into the gaming area.

They walked over towards the entrance. Janus got in range first and moved to subtly scan the Millenia Bird, Remus doing the same the next moment. After a second, Janus’s timepiece buzzed and lit up red, meaning the bomb was within range. “Well, that was easy,” he said. “It was on the first one we found.”

“Uh…” Remus said. “Jan.” When Janus looked, he was holding up his wrist to show his green lit time piece.

“What?” Janus asked. He quickly moved to rescan the Millenia Bird, and his timepiece came up green as well. Which, meant the bomb was not in range, even though the Millenia Bird had not moved. “But…” He and Remus’s eyes met, and they quickly both started turning in a circle to look at the crowd around him. No one looked like they’d just stolen a time bomb off the Millennial Bird, but then Janus’s eyes caught on a man. He blended in perfectly to his surroundings. He was wearing the disgusting garb of the times, a large light blue piece that bubbled near his hips, and had most of his skin covered in rainbow neon paints. Yet, something about him, the curl of his hair or the way he moved, drew Janus’s eyes to him. He recognized the man immediately even in a completely different dressing style. Yet, what cinched it was the moment Janus’s eyes met his and they seemed to sparkle slightly in the afternoon sun. The next moment, the person Janus knew as Pat, turned to disappear into the crowd.

Chapter 7

“Him,” was the only thing Janus said before taking off after the figure who had just disappeared into the game area.

“What?” Remus’s voice followed after him. “Janus! What?!”

Janus did not pause, just continuing to run after Pat, hopping over two barricades as a shortcut. Janus cursed when he lost sight of the man for just a moment near the prize table filled with colorful goldfish, but he was able to spot him once again walking into one of the tents. Janus blasted into the tent. It was a game where they raced rats, and when Janus entered, Pat was cooing at one of them.

“Who’s a tiny little squishy precious baby?” he was asking one of them, wiggling his pointer finger at it.

“You,” Janus growled stepping up to him.

He turned and tilted his head at Janus with a frown. “Um, me?” he asked, pointing to his chest, all sorts of innocent, but Janus could see a spot of hidden amusement in his eyes.

“Where is it?”

His eyebrows drew together, but it was an act. It was clearly an act! “Where is what?”

“The…” he glanced around them at the people surrounding them. “Thing you just took.”

“I didn’t take anything,” Pat said with a frown.

“Oh, no,” Janus said. “Fool me once, shame on you. Fooling me twice is not an option.”

“I’m sorry sir,” Pat said. “I really don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Bull. Shit.”

Just then, Remus jogged into the tent. “What’s going on?” he asked.

“It’s him,” Janus said pointing. “He took it. He has it.”

“I… don’t know what you’re talking about,” Patton said. He looked over to Remus with a confused frown.

Remus looked at Janus. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Janus said. “It’s him. It has to be him. He’s the mask guy.”

Remus squinted at Pat. “He is?”

“Whoever you think I am, I’m not. I haven’t worn a mask all night. I just did the face paint,” he pointed to his cheeks.

Remus raised his wrist and his timepiece lit up green. He looked at Janus.

“I lost sight of him for five seconds. He must have stashed it somewhere,” Janus said. He turned on Pat. “Where did you put it?”

“…Are you,” Pat asked, his eyes going back and forth between Janus and Remus, “… the police?”

“We are, actually,” Khalid said as she stepped into the tent. Remus must have called her. She inserted herself between Janus and Pat. “Agent Khalid,” she said, offering a hand with a smile. Pat looked at it in surprise and then smiled back hesitantly as he took it. “Apologizes, one of the big game prizes was stolen by someone matching your description. Would you mind coming down to security for questioning? Just to clear it up.”

“Oh,” Patton said, hesitant. Janus expected him to refuse outright, but then he said. “Uh, sure.”

“Thank you very much, Mr…”

“Jonas,” Pat told her earnestly. “Do I need to be handcuffed?”

“No,” Khalid said. Janus frowned at her, but she ignored him. “It’s just a talk for now.” She gestured to the tent entrance. “Come with us.”

He did without argument, and Remus and Janus followed behind the both of them. Khalid did not lead them back to the base, but to a little spot that said “security” near the center of the event. Remy was already there waiting for them at a desk.

“Remy, would you please take Mr. Jonas to go sit down?” she asked.

“Sure, boss,” Remy said, standing up. He led Pat away.

Khalid turned to Janus and Remus once they were out of earshot. “What is going on?”

“It’s the mask man,” Janus said, “the one from 1923, and my scanner said the time bomb was on the Millenia Bird outside the games entrance, but then it was gone the next second, and I saw him, and then he ran away.”

“So, does he have it on him?”

“No. I lost sight of him, and he must have stored it somewhere, but I know he took it.”

10264

“He’s the man from 1923?” she asked.

“Yes! Remus, that’s him, right? You recognize him.”

“Well,” Remus said thoughtfully. “He was in a mask, and it was dark in the room with the necklace. Other than that, I only really saw his back, and he was wearing pants. Mr. Jonas is wearing a dress, so I can’t really tell if their asses match.”

“Okay, but I was with him for hours. I swear it’s him, and I swear he took it,” Janus just about shouted.

“We’ll question him,” Khalid placated, “and Fred and Lena will keep looking in the meantime.”

“He knows where it is,” Janus insisted. “I swear.”

“Okay,” Khalid said, before leaving to follow where Remy and Pat had gone. She stopped Janus with a hand on his shoulder. “I think Remus and I will do the interrogation.” He opened his mouth to argue. “You know the most about him, so observe from the sidelines and see if he makes any mistakes that indicate you’re right.”

“That’s just to placate me and you know it.”

“Observation’s over there,” she said pointing.

He got a thumbs up from Remus as he walked by, and Janus glared at his back before walking off to the indicated location.

He watched as Remus and Khalid entered the room, and Remy left it. Remy joined him in the observation room after leaving and leaned against the wall.

Pat was sitting at a table and watched Remus and Khalid with that same rubbish placid confusion that he had before. “So,” Khalid said, “Mr. Jonas.”

“You can call me Nick,” Pat interrupted.

“Lia,” Khalid replied. He smiled at her happily. “So, are you enjoying your day?” she asked.

“I am!” he replied. “It’s a big day. You only get to see the turn of a millennia once in your life.”

“Ah, yes,” Khalid said. “Doing anything special for it?”

“Um, not really,” he said. “Other than the party. I’m going to meet up with my roommates after dinner. Kevin doesn’t like this sort of thing, and Joe couldn’t come.”

“Your roommates,” Khalid said, considering him. “Do you live around here?”

“Uh huh,” Pat replied.

“Do you have any ID?”

“I do, want me to get it?”

“If you wouldn’t mind.”

Pat unzipped one of the bubbles on his waist and handed her a chip. “Remus, would you mind going out and getting the ID scanner?” she asked, even though her timepiece would be able to read it.

“Ah, shit,” Remy said. “Props. What do those things even look like?”

As Remy scrambled to find something that would pass for an ID reader so “Nick” didn’t get suspicious of Khalid using her timepiece, Janus watched the two alone in the room like a hawk.

“I see you’re wearing a dress inspired by the 2770s,” Khalid noted, as Remus came to stand next to him.

“Yeah!” Pat replied. “Joe made it for me. He’s really good at fashion design!”

“Can I see?” she asked.

With a happy smile, he reached over the table to let her get a look of the sleeves. Janus saw her subtly scan the fabric, probably to make sure it was from the 2990s and not actually from the 2770s. Considering she didn’t mention it, Janus assumed it checked out.

Remy came back with some sort of device then and handed it to Remus who saluted and wandered back into the interrogation room. Khalid pretended to scan the ID in her hand. She handed it back to him without comment. “So, you said you live with your roommates: Joe and Kevin?” she asked.

“Yep!” he replied. “We’re practically like brothers.”

“Would you mind calling them?”

“Erm,” he titled his head like he was confused by the question. “Well, like I said, Joe is a bit busy, but I could definitely call Kevin.

“Here,” Khalid said, “use my phone.”

“I have my own,” he said with a frown.

“Humor me,” she requested.

“Uh, okay,” Pat agreed. He took the offered 2999 phone and dialed a number on it. Khalid reached over to put it on speaker.

“Hello?” a voice asked after a few seconds.

“Um, hey Kevin, it’s Nick.”

There was a sigh on the other end. “Hello Nick, is something wrong? Why are you calling me from someone else’s phone?”

“I’m fine, I think.” He looked up at Khalid. “Why am I calling him exactly?”

“Hello, I’m Officer Khalid,” Khalid said. “I just wanted to confirm that you are Nick Jonas’s roommate, and he does live in Manaus.”

“Yes, we live together with our other roommate,” the man replied flippantly. “Officer? Is something wrong?”

“I believe there was just a case of mistaken identity,” Khalid said.

“Bullshit there was!” Janus hissed, though she could not hear him.

“No need to worry,” Khalid continued.

“I’m good Kevin,” Pat said.

“Are you absolutely sure?” Kevin asked.

“Don’t be Paranoid, Kevin. I’ll see you Tonight for the New Years Celebration. You know I Live to Party.”

“I am hanging up now,” Kevin said.

“No! Comeback.” The line went dead. Pat handed the device back to Khalid.

She took it and smiled at him. “Give us just a couple of minutes,” she requested. He nodded easily, and she and Remus exited the interrogation room. “I… think we’re done here,” Khalid said.

“No, he’s lying,” Janus insisted, and got a dubious look in return. “I know he is! Remus!”

“The alibi is pretty solid…” Remus said, “and he doesn’t have the bomb on him.”

“Oh, come on,” Janus said. “You can’t say there is nothing fishy going on here.”

Khalid and Remus shared a look. “Janus,” Khalid said. “I respect your intuition. It is usually very good, but you have been a bit intense about the man from the 1920s, and I think that may be blinding you a bit...”

“I am not imagining this!” Janus said. “That’s him and he took it.”

“You only met him once while he was wearing a mask,” Khalid pointed out with a frown, “and you didn’t see him take the bomb, did you?”

“No, but he looked at me and I knew,” Janus argued. They both gave him a skeptical look. “Oh, come on!”

“You know that’s a little weak, Jan,” Remus said.

“Let me talk to him,” Janus requested. “Just give me five minutes to talk with him.”

Khalid raised one eyebrow. “Fine,” she agreed. “You have five minutes, but after that, you have to let it go. We can’t waste any more time.”

Chapter 8

Pat looked up as Janus stepped into the interrogation room. “Hi,” he said with an innocent smile that could cut steal.

Janus didn’t say a word as he took a seat; he just watched him intently. He leaned slightly over the table and steepled his fingers in front of his chin. “So, your name is Nick this time?” Janus asked.

“Nicholas Jonas,” he said. “Always has been.”

“Stop it,” Janus said.

“Stop what?”

“Cut the crap. I know.”

Pat leaned forward, mirroring Janus as he leaned closer, interlocking his fingers and laying his chin on top of his knuckles. “What did you say your name was again?” he asked, pleasantly.

“Janus,” Janus replied.

“No, I’m Jonas,” he said, pointing to his chest.

“Not Jonas,” Janus spat. “Janus.”

“Um,” Pat said, eyes alight with amusement. The bastard. “Those are the same words.”

“No, they’re not. It’s Janus. J-A-N-U.-S.”

“Well, that’s confusing,” Pat said with a frown, but his nose was crinkling. “It’s close to my name. You should go by a nickname instead.”

“What?” Janus said. “No.”

Pat hummed. “How about Love Bug?”

“What! No!” Janus sputtered, almost flipping the table, as Pat winked at him.

“BB Good?”

“What does that even mean?!”

“Mandy.”

“No!”

“Okay, okay, how about Macy Misa.”

11594

Janus stared at him for a moment. “Fine. Whatever. What was I even talking about?”

“Hmm. I Believe we were talking about my name and how you think it’s not my name.”

“Right,” Janus said. “So, Nick. That was your roommate, Kevin on the phone, right? He seemed a bit unhappy with you. Any reason?”

“Nah, we’re Cool” said Pat. “That’s Just the Way We Roll.”

“Not because you’re messing up a mission right now?”

Pat’s eyes crinkled together. “A mission?” he parroted. “I’m not messing up a mission.”

“Oh, really?” Janus growled. “Because you’ve been captured by the TPI, and I know who you are and what you’ve been doing.”

“I have no idea what the TPI is,” he claimed.

“Yes, you do!” Janus said, standing up. “You obviously do! Or you wouldn’t be playing this game!”

“Game?” Pat asked. “Macy I ask you what you’re talking about.”

“This is all just a game to you isn’t it!” Janus said, slamming his hands down on the table in front of them.

“Whoa,” Pat said, putting his hands up. “Calm down. Your face is getting all red. You must be Burnin’ Up.”

“I’m not sure what, but something about what you just said pisses me off.”

“And that is five minutes,” Khalid said, bursting into the room. He felt a tug on the back of his shirt and glared back at Remus who was putting his own body between Janus and Pat.

“There was no way that was five minutes,” Janus growled.

“It was five minutes,” Khalid gritted out. “Remus, get him out of here.”

“Come on Jay,” Remus said, dragging him back towards the door.

“Remus, I swear to god.”

“Just chill, Janus,” Remus said, slamming the door closed behind them.

Janus shrugged him off. “You chill!” he snapped. “He’s playing you all for the fool.”

“Wow, Macy,” Remy drawled like an asshole. “I’ve never seen you so fired up.”

“Oh, my gosh. No one is going to believe me, and he’s going to get away with this.”

“You’re not really helping your case, babe,” Remy said.

Remus grabbed him by the shoulders again. “Here, let’s go get some water.”

“I don’t want water,” he said even as he let Remus lead him to another room to get a glass of water.

“Look,” Remus said. “I know the Mask Guy thing really sucked, but you have to look at the facts.

“I am looking at the facts,” Janus insisted, “and the facts are, he’s fucking with me.”

“You don’t know what mask guy looks like,” Remus said. “You didn’t see Nick take the time bomb, he has an ID from this time period and a roommate in this time he called on the phone, and he legitimately seems to not know what any of us are talking about.”

“Did you even listen to our conversation?” Janus asked. “He was screwing with me the entire time!”

“Janus…” Remus said.

“What?” Janus said, narrowing his eyes at Remus’s tone.

“I know you recently had a bad experience, but not everyone who flirts with you is doing it out of evil.”

Janus’s mouth hung open for a few seconds. “That’s what you got out of our conversation?”

“He called you Love Bug.”

Janus felt his face heat a bit at the reminder. “That’s not… I. I’m stealing your cat and then never speaking to you again.”

Remus laughed. “Ah,” he said. “Young lust.”

Janus elbowed him roughly in the side. “No!”

“Yes!” he crooned, pleased.

“You are the worst partner,” Janus hissed. “When I’m right you owe me 10 loafs of your fresh bread.”

“Branching out from poptarts?” Remus asked.

Janus shook his head. He still wasn’t happy about the state of things, but he could feel himself cooling down a bit.

Khalid came out of the integration room after a few minutes, leaving Pat with Remy. “What was that?” she asked him.

“He got under my skin,” Janus said.

“We’ll talk about it later,” she said. “For now, we’re letting him go and then going back to looking for the bomb like we’re meant to be.”

“Fine,” Janus relented. “Just do me the favor of tagging him before he leaves. Just that. I beg of you.”

“Sure,” she agreed. “If it will calm you down.”

He nodded.

“Then, let’s go,” she said. When they met back up with Remy and Pat, he saw Khalid make the subtle gesture that would tag Pat like they would have for the Millennium Birds. Pat sent him what could pass as a sweet smile if Janus didn’t know better. Then, they walked him outside, leaving Remy on clean-up duty for the make-shift security office.

“So, I’m free to go?” Pat asked. His bemused expression edged far too much on the side of amused verses confused for Janus’s taste.

“You are,” Khalid said. “Have fun at the festivities.”

His hands went flapping about. “Oh, you too!” he said. “Well, I guess you’re working, but you can have fun anyway, I’m sure.”

“We’ll do our best,” she said.

He gave her a blinding smile and reached forward to shake her hand enthusiastically. Janus rolled his eyes and looked up at the heavens. “It was nice to meet you!” he said, “and you too, Remus!” He turned to meet Janus’s eyes. “Macy Misa.”

Janus pressed his lips together.

Then, Pat turned and walked away.

“Well, now that we’re done with that,” Khalid said, turning to them. “We have only a few more hours before midnight and we really need to find the time bomb.

“Oh,” Pat called. He’d paused a few yards away and turned back to them. “Thanks for letting me go so easily by the way,” he said, “and just in the Nick,” he winked, “of time too.” Janus narrowed his eyes at him. He smiled back. “Wrist check,” he said holding up his arm to show off the timepiece there. Khalid immediately looked down at her own wrist just to see that the one timepiece that could move through the time lock was no longer there. Pat made a gesture and disappeared.

All three of them stared at the spot he’d been for a long moment.

Janus was the one to speak first. “I want. The yellow. To be erased. From my record.”

Chapter 9

Khalid immediately called everyone back to base.

“What happened?” asked Fred when he and Lena arrived. The tech people were already scrambling to get through to the TPI and get the time lock broken from the outside.

“Remus, Remy, and Khalid got played by Pat or whatever his name is. It certainly isn’t Nick. He was just setting up a joke,” Janus told him.

“Stop being smug,” Remy said. “It’s not a good look for you.”

“Pat is…?” Lena asked.

“They guy who fucked me over in 1923,” Janus said, “and is currently in the middle of fucking us all over because he stole the pin timepiece, and by extrapolation, probably the time bomb too.”

“It will be fine,” said Khalid, “because what he doesn’t know is that timepiece has a tracker on it. Wherever and whenever he went, we’ll have his coordinates.”

“Speaking of,” one of the techies said. “It’s about to break. You might want to hold onto something.” Janus grabbed for a support beam next to him as the techie put a device on the ground in the center of the base. It blinked once, twice, and on the third blink the ground rumbled. There were sounds of panicked yelps outside. The fail safe for the time lock was not nearly as gentle as ending it correctly.

Everything settled after a few moments, and they all straightened themselves out. Janus’s timepiece buzzed to indicate it was now functioning normally. Khalid had returned her usual timepiece to her wrist and now used it to open a display they could all see. “The pin timepiece’s closest time/space coordinates are…” she trailed off. “Right outside?” She frowned. “That’s strange. Why would he still be here?” She turned to march outside, following the coordinates to a trash can. She pulled the pin timepiece out and stared at it. “Fuck,” she said.

“What just happened?” Remy asked.

“He ticked us,” Janus said. “Again.”

“He was stuck in the time lock,” Khalid said. “That’s why he got our attention. He couldn’t leave with the time bomb unless he had the pin timepiece or we broke the time lock. Apparently, he’s smart enough to know that if he took the pin timepiece away from here, we’d probably be able to find him, but he knew we’d break the lock as soon as the pin went missing. So, he must have stashed his own timepiece and went back in time within the time lock to grab it while we were distracted with the past version of him. As soon as the time lock went down, I imagine he left.”

“Probably with the time bomb,” Janus said.

“Probably with the time bomb,” she confirmed.

And everyone knew the only thing worse than a time bomb was a time bomb you didn’t know the location of.

They evacuated after that, of course, and time locked the location once they were out just in case they were wrong, but midnight 3000 struck without thousands of people dying in Brazil, so the time bomb had defiantly been removed from then.

The, they initiated a time travel lockdown for all nonessentials, not willing to let random history students get caught up in an explosion if Pat decided to set the thing off somewhere.

Then, it was a matter of figuring out everything they could about ‘Pat.’ First, they checked the tracker data as Khalid had tagged him with one of the Millennium Bird trackers. It wouldn’t work outside of the zone they’d set up that day, but the record would show his behavior during the time lock after he’d escaped with the pin timepiece.

There had been many little green dots on the map that day as Fred and Lena had actually been doing the job they’d set out to do, but most of those were running around in the south. There had been one green dot, however, that appeared suddenly in the game area about 10 minutes before the time bomb had been stolen.

They could see Janus’s yellow dot almost brush his when he’d been chasing the earlier Pat down, around when he’d lost him briefly. The earlier Pat must have all but handed it off to his future self.

“He doubled back,” Remus commented when they watched the recorded data. It was a ballsy move and one that most people balked at, because there were inherent dangers any time you interacted with yourself from a different point in the timestream. It was ripe for paradoxes. It made everyone at the agency even more worried, because if he was willing to risk that, then what else was he willing to do?

Because of the lockdown of all nonessential time travel, people working for the TPI were not allowed to go home for the night. They were allowed to pick up anyone or anything dependent on them for care like kids and pets if there wasn’t someone in their home time to care for them, but other than that, they were unfortunately all sleeping in their offices for the foreseeable future.

“You are the only tolerable one,” Janus told the cat who upon being let loose in the office by Remus, immediately jumped on Janus’s lap.

“I have literally done nothing to you,” Lena said, but then added. “Yet.”

“You exist. In my space.”

“Can’t we just all get along?” asked Fred. “It’s only been an hour past when we’d usually go home. I went and grabbed milk and I have my giant thing of different flavored hot chocolate under my desk. We can try them all and vote on which is better.”

“Fuck your hot chocolate, Fred,” Janus growled, having been one of the three who had chipped in to buy it for him on his last birthday.

“Don’t go after Fred, jackass,” Lena spat.

“He’s just testy because his boyfriend escaped,” Remus contributed.

Janus’s lips turned down into a frown and he cupped Diesel Fuel’s face. “We agree we’re eating him first, right?” he asked her.

She purred her agreement.

“I’d have it no other way,” Remus replied.

“There is plenty of food,” Fred said, sounding stressed. “In fact, I was thinking we should all chip in on ordering take-out soon. “What does everyone like on pizza?”

“This is not a slumber party, Fred,” Janus pointed out.

“Shut it,” Lena snapped and turned to Fred. “I’m fine with almost everything, except…”

“Bananas and tuna salad!” Remus interrupted.

“…whatever Remus is about to say.”

Janus rolled his eyes as that started a debate about whether or not fruit and/or fish belonged on pizza. He leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes, which was when there was a knock on the door.

He froze when he heard the familiar voice. “Hello, hello,” said Emile, cheerfully. Janus looked up to see Emile standing at the open office door. Shit. Apparently, the man had decided to give up on sending lackeys to come fetch him and had decided to track him down himself when Janus couldn’t even escape without breaking a time lockdown. They met eyes briefly and Janus could see irritation if not anger in his eyes despite his otherwise cheerful expression and tone.

“Janus,” he said when he’d gotten their attention. “I’d like to have dinner with you.” The word choice told Janus everything he needed to know. Usually Emile was careful with how he said things to make sure people knew they had a choice. Typically he’d say something like, “I was wondering if you’d have time to have dinner with me tonight,” or “I’m about to go get food, would you like to come?” Today, there was no choice in the statement.

Janus still dried to dodge anyway. “Uh,” he said. “We were actually about to order pizza.”

“Go ahead,” said Fred kindly. Janus wanted to strangle him. “We can order pizza with olives if you’re not here.”

“I…” said Janus. “Guess, I’ll be going with you.”

“Great!” Emile said. “Let’s go.”

“Oh,” Janus said. “Uh, now?”

“Now,” Emile said a bit of uncharacteristic steel to his tone.

Well, Janus was screwed. He swallowed his nervousness and got to his feet, taking Diesel Fuel with him. He turned to hand her off to Remus with a plea in his eye, but he just got an eyebrow raise in return. Traitor.

Then, he followed Emile out of the office door. “What would you like to eat?” asked Emile.

“Uh,” Janus said. “I don’t know. You asked me to eat, don’t you have any ideas?”

“I don’t actually,” Emile replied. Right.

“…Noddle Bar?” Janus threw out the nearest restaurant he knew.

“The one noodle restaurant? Sure,” Emile answered simply. They walked side by side out of the front doors of the TPI building. Janus actually couldn’t remember the last time he’d taken these stairs. He usually used his timepiece to get in and out.

The noodle bar was only moderately busy at this time. They were quickly able to find a table near the back and Emile pulled his menu up in front of him. Emile hummed as he flipped through the different displays. “What are you having?” he asked.

“I don’t know,” Janus said, only then pulling up the menu himself, but still not quite looking at it.

“What about the fortune noodles,” Emile suggested.

Janus shook his head. “I don’t like those,” he said.

Emile glanced at him through the menu displays. “You used to.” Fortune noodles were a bit cheekily named. They didn’t actually indicate anything about your future. They were just supposed to taste like what you wanted from your future. A grad student might experience a feeling like they’d just aced a paper. A child that they got to stay up an hour later that night. Janus had liked the experience when he was younger, but in recent years, he’d begun to taste the underlying chemicals in the dish until that’s all he could.

“Well,” Emile said lightly, eyes on his menu. “That makes me even more worried for your mental health than I already was because of the almost three years of you avoiding talking to me.”

“No small talk, huh?” Janus asked.

“Forgive me,” Emile said, eyes now focused on Janus, and tone much darker. “How has your life been since I last saw your face 5 months ago during a business meeting and you refused to look me in the eye? Anything interesting happen? Shave your head and let it all regrow? Develop an allergy to peanuts? Join a convent and take an oath of silence that you only just broke today?”

“No,” said Janus quietly into the table.

“Great,” Emile said clipped. “Small talk over. Order your food.” Janus reached up blindly to select the first thing that came up on the food and drink menu as Emile punched something into his own and both menu displays disappeared, meaning there was nothing between their faces anymore. “You know, I was willing to give you a year,” Emile said. “I was willing to let you deal with it on your own because I thought eventually, you’d come talk to me about it, but apparently I was mistaken. The next year, I thought maybe you thought I didn’t want to talk to you, so I subtly made myself available, and you never took me up on the offer. I thought maybe I was just not being clear, and I should make my desire to talk to you more explicit, but as you have been routinely, clearly avoiding me at every single turn, I’ve decided I’ve had enough. So, let’s lay it all on the table. Is it me or do you need help?”

Janus closed his eyes. “It’s not you.”

“Then you need help,” Emile concluded.

Janus shook his head.

“Yes,” Emile snapped. “Whatever this is has gone on far too long.”

Janus stood up and slammed his hand down on the table. “And it’s going to keep going on!” he said. The food popped up at that moment. It appeared Janus had ordered lasagna and bubble tea, and Emile had ordered something with spaghetti and a fizzy drink.

“So, you’re just planning to go on being miserable then?” Emile asked, and Janus wasn’t sure if it was worse or better that he didn’t sound angry anymore.

14656

Janus slapped his hand down on the “To Go” button and his dinner was insta-wrapped by the table. “Yes,” he said.

“What exactly do you think you’re paying penance for, Janus?” Emile asked.

“You wouldn’t understand,” Janus said, paying for both of their meals with his fingerprint.

“That’s a cop out and you know it,” Emile said. “All you’d have to do is talk to me. Or even just talk to someone else. Please.”

“Just…” Janus said, grabbing his bag of food to avoid looking at him. “Just, leave me be.” He walked out of the noodle shop without another word.

Chapter 10

“And I thought Remus was going to be the most disgusting roommate in this equation,” Lena grumbled. Janus and Lena were apparently the earlier risers in the group as Fred was still curled up around a pillow and Remus was sprawled out under his desk.

Janus flipped her off.

“Protein infused Poptarts and caffeinated orange juice for breakfast?” she asked. “Just eat an energy bar and have a cup of coffee like a normal person.”

He took another pointed bite of his Poptart.

“You’re a horrible roommate. This is why they gave us different partners.”

“Yeah, well you snore, asshole,” Janus said after finishing off his meal.

“I’d tell you to go eat shit, but you already did that once this morning.”

A pillow flew across the room and somehow managed to hit the both of them. “S’op fighting,” Fred mumbled. “It’s sleep time.”

“It’s morning Fred,” Lena said.

“No,” Fred mumbled.

Janus ignored them, turning back to his integration port to continue to keep plugging in phrases of interest, but he kept getting nothing.

“What are you doing?” Lena asked after a few moments of him huffing at his screen reader.

“Trying to do anything that may change our current living arrangements.”

She puffed out an amused breath. “Can I help?��

“Can you see any connection between these words and phrases?” he asked, pulling away his screen reader and tapping at the words he’d typed out.

“Paranoid, tonight, I live to party, comeback, love Bug, BB good, Mandy, Macy Misa, I believe, cool, that’s just the way we roll, burnin’ up,” she said. “What are these?”

“They’re things Pat said when we interrogated that struck me funny,” Janus explained. “I feel like he was saying something more than what he said.”

“Hmm,” she said. “PTI for the first three?”

“Maybe,” Janus agreed, “but what about the rest of it? I feel like I’m missing something.”

15080

“Millennia,” Remus mumbled from under his desk. Janus hadn’t been aware he was awake. “He said something something about it being the only time he could see the change of the millennia.” He turned his head to look at Janus. “Considering he’s a time traveler, that’s definitely a weird thing to say.”

“Millennia,” Janus contemplated. “A different turn of the millennia. Oh no.”

“What?” Lena asked.

Janus sighed, and rubbed his temple. “I know someone who studied the 1700-2200s.”

“Isn’t that good?”

“No,” Janus groaned, “because now I have to go talk to him.” He stood with a sigh and then paused. “How do I even get to Silver Mountains University without my timepiece?”

Luckily Sliver Mountains ended up only being about an hour away from the TPI by time adherent travel, but considering Janus was used to his travel being instantaneous, it was an aggravating trip. He had to show ID and be buzzed up to the fourth floor since it was usually locked to everyone not traveling by timepiece or who worked in the office.

The receptionist was the same man as before. “I’m here to speak to Professor Eran,” Janus said.

The receptionist nodded. “He mentioned you asked to meet him but didn’t know when you’d arrive. He’ll be done teaching his class in about 5 minutes. You can wait over there.”

Janus nodded and sat, waiting for time to slowly tick by. Virgil arrived after a few minutes, lugging a giant bag with him. He caught sight of Janus and wordlessly jerked his head towards the hallway. Janus followed him.

“What’s in the bag?” Janus asked.

“Early 21st century cell phones,” Virgil said, dropping it on his desk. “I let my students mess around with them for their lab.”

“I see,” Janus said.

“What did you need?” Virgil asked. “You said it was official business.”

“You’ve heard about the lockdown, I presume,” Janus said.

“Yeah, it really screws up my research schedule for the summer,” Virgil said.

15412

“Do you know why the lockdown was instituted?” Janus asked. Virgil shook his head, so Janus explained briefly that they had been trying to find a timebomb on the eve of the year 3000, but it had been swiped by a free agent time traveler. “Some of the things seemed to be references to things that I couldn’t place, and I was wondering if you would recognize any.”

“Shoot,” Virgil requested, seeming intrigued by the prospect.

“Okay,” Janus said. “First, the alias he was using was Nick Jonas.” A weird expression crossed Virgil’s face immediately and Janus paused.

“You said the year 3000?” Virgil asked.

“Er. Yes.”

“Nick Jonas. Year 3000,” Virgil repeated with a snort. “Were Joe and Kevin a part of this too?”

Janus blinked. “Yes, how did you know that?”

“Yo-you’re going to have,” his sentence was broken by a giggle, and actual full-fledged giggle, “have to give me a minute.” With that, he sort of listed to the side and seemed to purposefully fall off his chair onto the floor under his desk.

Janus blinked and when he didn’t surface after a moment, he stood up to lean over the desk and look down at him. Virgil had his arm thrown over his beat red face, as he shook from what Janus thought was suppressed laughter.

“What?” Janus asked. “What’s wrong?”

“Just…” Virgil said, sobbing through his laughter. “Just tell me the things he said.”

“Er, mostly he just had weird inflections on words and phrases. There was ‘paranoid, tonight, I live to party, comeback…’”

“Wait, stop,” Virgil said. “Let me guess a few. That’s Just the Way We Roll, Burnin’ Up, Sucker.”

“The first two were, but not the last one.”

Virgil laughed. “Maybe the last one was just implied.”

Janus frowned down. “What are you talking about? What does this all mean?”

Virgil pulled himself out from under his desk and grabbed his bag of phones. He dug through it for a few seconds before pulling one out and handing it to Janus. “I have a lab for my students where they get preloaded phones from the early 21st century and are supposed to guess the demographics of the person who owns it. This one is an iPhone 3 meant to belong to a pre-teen to teenage girl from the year 2009. Look under music artists starting with the letter ‘J.’”

15810

Confused, Janus scrolled through the old style phone, finding the music app and opening it easily. Upon getting to the ‘J’s, he immediately paused on an artist called the ‘Jonas Brothers.’ He clicked on it and read a few of the song titles. They weren’t all there, but…

“That rat bastard,” Janus said.

“Scroll to the bottom,” Virgil said. Janus did and found a song titled ‘Year 3000.’

“You’re kidding me.”

“Click on it,” Virgil requested.

Janus did, listening to the fairly standard pop like intro from the time period. It wasn’t until he got to the lyrics saying, ‘He told me he built a time machine’ that he cursed, understanding exactly what Pat had been doing. When the singer a few lines latter proclaimed that his neighbor said ‘I’ve been to the year 3000’ he almost smashed the artifact to pieces right then and there.

“I have no idea who this guy is,” Virgil said, “but he’s a comedic genius.”

Chapter 11

Khalid caught him on his way back into the TPI building. “I heard you went to Silver Mountains to follow up on a lead,” she said.

“Yeah, but it was garbage,” he seethed. “All I learned was ‘Pat’ knows early 2000s popular culture and likes to fuck with us.”

She hummed. “I’d still like a report about whatever you found. Who knows what we might end up getting from seemingly inconsequential data.”

“Sure,” he said.

“Anyway,” she continued. “I have a mission for you.”

“We’re on lockdown,” Janus pointed out with a frown.

“For nonessentials,” she said. “This is essential.”

“What happened?” Janus asked.

“We picked up a small time distortion in France 2027. At the moment, it is small enough not to cause any disruptions, but it is slowly growing, and we don’t know what caused it. Usually we’d just send surveillance agents at this stage, but considering what’s going on, I think it would be best to send a field agent. And it would just be you, because we don’t want to send too many people out at once.”

“Is this related to the time bomb?” Janus asked.

“I’m not sure,” she said. “At the very least, it’s not it being set off as it was in 2999, but if it’s been altered for some other purpose…”

“I’ll go,” Janus said.

“I’ll send over the mission directive to everyone who needs it. You’ll go in around 3 hours.”

He nodded. “I’ll be ready,” he agreed.

In less then 3 hours, he was dressed for 2027 France and in decontamination. “Well,” he said out loud when he was given the all clear sign, “I hope I don’t explode.” He selected the coordinates on the timepiece and the next moment he was in a small alleyway in the city of Montpellier, France in 2027.

It was a little bit warm, but not stifling even in the mid-afternoon and he could faintly smell the sea on the breeze.

After a moment to get his bearings, Janus made his way out of the alleyway and onto a small street. The street was lined with restaurants and shops as people went about their daily lives. He carefully integrated himself into the crowd and began weaving his way through them. He needed to find the source of the distortion but doing a quick scan with his timepiece told him there wasn’t any sign of it yet. He’d have to wait for it to act up.

For now, he decided to get slightly away from people by heading towards the river. He found a park that had benches along water.

As he walked towards the river, he noticed a man on the bench, angled slightly away from Janus and looking out at the water. He immediately recognized the man. “You!” he exclaimed.

Pat’s head shot around to look at him, and he gave a slight head tilt. Then, he smiled, amused. “You are not the person I’m here for,” he said.

“Well, I am now,” Janus snapped. “Where’s the time bomb?”

“Time bomb?” Pat asked, eyebrows drawing together, but amusement on his lips. “Oh sweetie, the time bomb happened a long time ago for me.”

“What?” Janus asked.

“Oh, you’re just a baby,” Pat laughed. “Don’t you get it yet? The two of us are out of sync timeline wise. You’ve been apparently running around with a much younger version of me, but all of that happened quite a while ago for me. Don’t worry though, it gets better.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The time bomb has been long deactivated. Here,” he reached into his pocket and tossed him something. Janus caught it on instinct. “Proof. Don’t worry, we took all of the dangerous bits out years ago from my perspective.” It was the core of a time bomb, the time bomb Pat had stolen if he was to be believed. “You can tell your people it’s safe to remove the lockdown.”

Janus curled his fingers around it. “I don’t get it.”

Something on Pat’s wrist beeped and he looked at it curiously before he stood from the bench, “and I don’t have time to explain it.”

Janus jerked forward to grab his wrist. “Don’t you dare.”

Pat reached up to pat his face. “Don’t worry honey, you’ll be seeing me later.” He twisted his wrist and a small electric current sparked between them. Janus jerked his hand away, and Patton smiled at him. “Or… earlier.” He winked, and then he was gone.

Janus cursed, but he didn’t have more than a moment to be angry because in the next second there was a yelp, and something landed on top of him. He was bowled over into a tangle of limbs and pained noises.

“Oh my god, we need to figure out the height thing,” a familiar voice groaned, just as Janus managed to pull himself away. Pat blinked up at him and his eyes narrowed. “You,” he hissed.

“…What?”

Pat jumped to his feet, leaving Janus on the ground in front of him. “What are you doing here?” he spat, his tone much different then the one he’d been using a moment earlier. His hair was longer than it had been before, and if Janus looked closely, he did seem like he was a couple of years younger suddenly. Out of sync timelines. I’ll see you earlier. Holy shit.

He was suddenly very glad he’d been forced to let the other Pat (the older Pat?) go, else they’d have a whole thing on their hands.

“What are you doing here?” was Janus’s retort as he stood up and dusted himself off.

“It’s none of your business,” Pat told him.

“It is my business,” Janus said, “because for all I know, you are the cause of the time distortions I’m after. Considering that I doubt you have a license for that,” he waved at the odd looking timepiece of Pat’s wrist, “it’s very possible.”

“What are you?” Pat asked, “the time police.”

“Yes.”

Pat dared to roll his eyes, but then he tilted his head slightly. “Time distortions?” he asked.

“Yes, that’s why I’m here.”

He still had a confused frown on his face. Did… did he not know what a time distortion was?

Just then there was a sudden flash of lightening through the sky despite the absolutely lack of clouds. He and Pat both looked up.

“Is that the time distortion?” Pat asked.

“It’s probably the beginning of it,” Janus said.

“That doesn’t look good,” Pat said as he squinted at the sky.

“Just wait,” Janus answered grimly. He looked at Pat. “Usually I’d arrest you on the spot,” he said, “but I’m alone for this one, and that is far more important at the moment. So, have a nice day doing whatever bullshit you are doing.” He glanced at his timepiece.

Janus turned to walk away from him.

“Wait!” Pat exclaimed, and Janus turned back to him to see that his eyes were wide. Janus raised an eyebrow. “So, this time distortion thing is dangerous, right?”

“Depending on the severity, it could cause time to fracture around this place and time, basically erasing it from existence and killing everyone in it.”

“Well, in that case, I should go with you. To help.”

Janus looked him up and down. “You… have no idea what’s happening, do you? You’re an amateur.”

“I’m not,” he claimed. “I just. Pooling resources. You know?”

Janus sighed. “Well, you going around mucking about this time period without knowing what you’re doing could just exasperate the situation, so fine, you can tag along.”

“I know what I’m doing,” he grumbled even as he rushed to Janus’s side at the permission.

“Sure,” Janus said with an eyeroll. He guessed he was a babysitter now. “I believe you.”

Chapter 12

There was something off about his readings. Clearly the time distortion was starting to pull at this place with the way the weather was flickering between storming and sunny, but he still couldn’t quite pinpoint the exact location of the source of it. He could, however, get that it must be somewhere on this side of the river more into the downtown area, so that’s the way he was walking, Pat close on his heels.

“What’s your name, by the way?” he asked.

Janus shot him a glare. “Elvis Presley,” he said.

Pat frowned, clearly knowing who that was. “There’s no reason to be mean.”

“You did it to me first.”

“…Introduced myself as a famous musician?” he asked. Janus didn’t respond, and after a moment, Pat laughed lightly. “You really don’t understand time travel, do you?”

“Oh, yeah,” Janus said. “Name the three types of time distortions.”

“Just because I don’t know the names of things doesn’t mean I don’t understand them.” He stuck out his tongue. Janus was dealing with an actual toddler. “Unlike you who has a bunch of fancy words, but just caused a time loop.”

Janus scoffed. “I did not just cause a time loop.”

“Maybe not a big one,” Patton agreed, “but you did.”

Janus raised an eyebrow. “I’ve never introduced myself to you with a musician’s name, but now you’ve told me that I will. So, at some point in the future I will have to, thereby making you think to say that now. Time loop.”

“That’s not… that doesn’t count.”

“Does too,” Pat claimed. “Like I have said once before and you may or may not have heard me say before, anything you do to me to get back at me for something I haven’t done yet, just causes whatever that is to happen in the first place.”

“But you’re still going to do it.”

“Then take it up with future me. I haven’t done anything to you.” Then he paused and sighed. “…Which I guess means you’ve done nothing to me.” He seemed to mull this concept over for a long moment. “Well you were a bit crabby about me not knowing what a time distortion was, but I can forgive you for that.”

“And I’m supposed to forgive you?”

“Like I said,” Pat said. “I haven’t done anything yet.”

“You also haven’t done anything to endear yourself to me either,” Janus grumbled.

“Hmm,” Pat said. “Fine.” He pulled something out of his pocket. “You’re obviously not having much luck finding whatever you’re looking for. Tell me what it is and I’ll help.”

Janus squinted at what was in his hand. “Is that… an iPhone 5?”

“No!” he said. “It’s super-secret time travel tech disguised as an iPhone 5!”

“We’re in 2027,” Janus said. “Not a great disguise. Those things have been obsolete for a decade.”

“Well I’ll keep in mind to have my tech disguised as phones from the right year next time,” Pat said, sticking out his tongue. “Now what are we looking for?”

“If my timepiece can’t find it, I’m certain yours can’t.”

Pat rolled his eyes and tapped on the device’s screen a couple of times. “I’m going to guess it’s that,” he said proudly.

Janus leaned over to look at the screen. “Are you using google maps?” he sputtered.

“It integrates time relevant data like traffic conditions and local weather warnings with time travel technology,” Pat explained. “Something seems to be going on in a museum a couple of blocks that way.”

“I…” Janus said. That was actually a really good idea, usually unnecessary with scouts observing that data beforehand, and Janus wasn’t sure how good the accuracy would be considering whatever was taking it into account was automated, but still a good idea. “Well, I guess since we have no other leads, we can check it out.”

Pat looked far too proud for having only used a piece of tech that hadn’t even been confirmed as accurate. “Then, let’s go,” he said right as a chilly wind started to pick up and a couple of snowflakes began to fall around them. “Before that gets worse…”

Janus let Pat lead with his iPhone. Janus’s timepiece still wasn’t picking up a clear signal for some reason, but it seemed to point in the same general direction as Pat’s. Strangely though, as they got closer to their destination, the signal started to get fuzzier. Pat’s tech seemed unaffected leading them closer to the museum.

When they got to the museum, Janus stopped. “What?” Pat asked. He was shivering slightly in the cold and holding his arms around himself.

“My timepiece stopped working completely,” he said.

“I’m assuming that’s weird?” Pat said.

“It is,” Janus confirmed, turning to squint at him suspiciously. “How do I know you’re not the one doing it?”

“If I was doing it, wouldn’t I have just knocked it out from the get go?” Pat questioned.

Janus pursed his lips. “I don’t know,” he said. “Would you have? Maybe it’s a trick.”

Pat’s eyes narrowed a bit on him. “Think what you want, but I’m freezing. Come in with me if you want.”

#study break stories #not writing

42 notes · View notes

moonchildsaurora · 4 years

Text

La Valse de L’éternité

✤ prince!Seonghwa x fem!reader ✤ genre: royal!AU // bittersweet (of fluff to angst) ✤ t/w: sfw, slight mentions of death might need some tissues for the end?, rated PG ✤ count: 1.8k+

a/n - sorry this is late, but coming out of my hermit cave to finally write an actual one-shot for @daybreakx writing challenge #3. What started out as a mini scenario turned into a mini story instead, and now I just need to lie on the floor for a week (guess that’s what happens when you dive back right into writing after years of hiatus). I hope you guys enjoy it and please feel free to give feedback 💙

“Hello my love.”

The timbre of his voice weaved in harmony with the orchestral symphony that filled the magnificent ballroom.

“Well don’t you look dashing, my prince.”

The hand that held your own was as gentle as the adoring gaze he had on you. “The night has only just begun and already you’re enticing me with such flattery.” Before bowing slightly, full lips gracing the back of your hand peppering the surface with soft kisses.

“Were my own words back then so profound that you just had to re-use them?” you replied with a teasing counter-attack and a chaste peck on his cheek.

“In all honesty though, you’d put Aphrodite to shame.”

“And you accuse me of using flattery, have you no shame Seonghwa?”

Pulling you flush against his chest by your waist, “For you I’d risk dignity and all,” he murmured and took a moment to lean his forehead against yours. Then and there, you both allowed yourselves to get lost in each other.

Only when the sounds of strings and woodwinds along with echoes of conversations from below floated back up to your ears did Seonghwa prompt, “Shall we?”

This wasn’t the first time he guided you down the Grand Staircase and still, the view never cease to leave you in awe. Stoic marble columns stood tall with regal history carved into them, holding up the masterpiece of a ceiling above where the paintings were witnesses to the happenings on the white gold marble floors. Crystal chandeliers and torchères bathed the room with a delicate glow.

You noticed the balustrades were adorned with lush flower arrangements of varying colours. The last time you saw such extravagant decorations was for your royal engagement to Seonghwa.

The floral aroma was prominent and filled your senses pleasantly. Yet there was a faint underlying scent that seemed slightly out of place.

Before you could put any further thought into it, an announcement was made to alert the guests of your presence. Already parting a way to the centre of the ballroom, Seonghwa and you turned to greet them as you both walked by.

Oddly enough there weren’t any familiar faces amongst the crowd. “Were our parents not attending the ball tonight?”

“They are probably at the tables already, discussing plans for our ceremony which will most likely be sprung upon us by tomorrow morning. You know how exuberant my mother is when it comes to weddings.”

A soft laugh left your lips at the sweet reminder; in exactly two weeks you’d be walking down a very different kind of aisle. Your eyes glanced down at the blue sapphire that sits proudly on your ring finger. The same shade of blue that your gown of fine chiffon silk was made in and the trims that complemented Seonghwa’s royal ivory suit.

“Will you do me the honour of having this dance with me, milady?”

Sheer willpower prevented you from rolling your eyes at his youthful playfulness, after all it’s a charming point of his. Instead deciding to indulge your prince by playing along.

With a dramatic curtsy, you accepted.

The maestro gave two loud taps of his baton and a new waltz begun.

Seonghwa and you glided across the floor, letting your feet step in duet with the melody. You’ve felt like you have heard this tune before, but once again your mind cannot seem to settle on a precise answer.

Don’t go looking, please.

“Pardon?”

“Something the matter, love?” asked Seonghwa, brows slightly furrowing at your sudden question.

“Oh, I thought you said something just then.”

Spinning out and coming back in to Seonghwa’s arms, the skirt of your gown billowing effortlessly as it followed your movement. You tilted your head slightly as you looked up to Seonghwa, awaiting for a reply.

“Are you sure you weren’t eavesdropping on our guests?”

“How dare-!”

Another spin and with a careful dip, he bent forward to kiss on the hollow of your neck. “I know, I was jesting.”

You shivered with delight and brought a hand up to caress the side of his face. Naturally, Seonghwa turned towards your touch. Eyes closing with content and letting a subtle nuzzle into the palm of your hand. Not minding one bit that his arms’ strength was being tested for holding you securely in that dip.

“You are awfully affectionate tonight,” you said in a hushed tone.

“Can’t a prince openly cherish his beloved in front of others?”

When he brought you back up, your hand reached up further to brush his dark fringe out of his eyes. Smiling tenderly back at him, you continued on with the dance.

It wasn’t until your priority shifted to those decadent couverture truffles sitting so innocently on one of many banquet stands that you managed to convince Seonghwa to take a break.

You could hear him chuckling behind as you hurriedly led him over, not wanting to miss out on your favourite treats.

“I’ll be right back, there’s been talk that the new batch of spring wine goes exceptionally well with sweets. Please try to save some for me!” he said giving your hand a light squeeze before walking off.

“No promises!”

Making sure that you picked a few of the strawberry truffles, just for him, you couldn’t help but sneak a bite first. What you didn’t expect was the harsh taste of ash to hit the back of your throat. It drew out a coughing fit, causing you to drop the plate.

The scent from before wafted back with vengeance. Smoke. That was what clashed with the comforting florals and now, it stung overwhelmingly.

You desperately tried to speak but the coughs were relentless. Did any of the guests nearby even notice your distress?

Seonghwa, you needed him.

Come back, come back.

Trying not to fall into further panic, you blindingly reached out to grab onto anything to help get your bearings. Your arms painfully knocked against cold marble. Turning to look, you were faced with one of the exquisite torchère. It wasn’t the sculptured maiden that your eyes were drawn to, but rather the candles she held up.

The air around you started to feel suffocating and the candles’ flickering flames beckoned an uneasiness from the depths of your mind. A sudden flash came across your vision, causing you to wince and shut your eyes tight.

Your Highness, you can’t–

Let me go through!

That voice, you know that voice. But why does he sound like that?

–it’s too dangerous! You’d suffocate from the smoke…

A searing pain cut through your entire being.

I will not abandon–

–still in there! I have to save–

The fire would’ve kil–

Anguish. Pure raw anguish. It hurt, to hear Seonghwa screaming your name over and over with such hopelessness. You forced your eyes to open with a gasp, acutely aware of how hot your surroundings had become. What had been small flames before, now was an inferno blazing all around. The stairs were burnt ruins and the flowers were no more.

A nightmare – this all had to be a nightmare. “Seonghwa!” your voice cracking as you called out for him, feet stumbling away from the scorching heat.

“Seonghwa, where are y– “

Arms encircled and turned you around with haste. “Look at me, I’m right here, look…” fingers brushing away tears that you didn’t know were falling until now.

“W-What’s happening? Why…I don’t understand”

Seonghwa’s presence have always been a safe haven, a constant calm. The moment he held your trembling frame close, it eased the chaos both inside and out that little bit more. You could still feel the firestorm against your back but he didn’t allow your eyes to waver from him. There were conflicting emotions running across him as he looked right at you; as if you would disappear if he were to even blink.

The way he spoke your name next crushed your heart. Your head was tucked into the crook of his neck and all you could hear was the same repeated phrase against your ear.

“Sorry, I’m so sorry. Please forgive me.”

You tried to move your arms to wrap around him, wanting nothing more than to comfort your dearest prince and cry out that there was nothing to forgive him about. So many questions left unanswered.

“Seonghwa, my dear Seonghwa, what is going on?”

His grip tightened around you, a deep breath drawn in and then exhaled. Holding your face with his hands, he pressed his forehead against yours just like before. “Always remember…” he said so softly, for these words were only for you to hear.

“…no matter how many lifetimes we have, even if they were short-lived, I will love you and will never stop loving you.”

Coldness came, spreading throughout from the inside. Your mind coming unhinged as fractured memories poured in all at once. Memories that weren’t meant to be remembered, for now you know that Seonghwa had lost you before. To burning smoke and ash.

“You are my eternity.”

He brought your lips together and all you felt was the touch of his sweet warmth before the darkness claimed you in the inevitable fall.

Each step you took echoed the hallways, your velvet slipper-clad feet sprinted across the granite marble floor whilst you fiddled to secure the blue sapphire on your finger. Cursing under your breath, thankfully your mother wasn’t around to tell you off, for waking up late. You had plans with your betrothed today, starting with your morning garden walk that you’ve never once missed. It was a special routine between you both, before duty called.

As you rushed down the first flight of the Grand Staircase, you almost missed the figure standing in the middle of the landing. Dressed in your favourite colour shade, he was faced in the opposite direction. From your viewpoint you couldn’t really see what he was doing or whether he was simply awaiting for your arrival and checking his watch.

“Seonghwa, I’m so sorry for my tardiness, my prince!” your heart beating a tad faster as you approached him.

Had you paid closer attention, you might have noticed how rigid his body went for a split second upon hearing your voice or how swiftly he brought his hand up to wipe away stray tears from his eyes. In blissful ignorance, you knew not of the way he clutched the pieces of himself together. Silently begging that perhaps this time, you will remain for a while longer in this sanctuary that he’s created for you.

The mark that engraved over where his heart was, a symbol of what he willingly gave just so your soul wouldn’t have to drift through limbo alone, stayed hidden.

Turning around to greet you with a genuine smile and adoration, he held out his hands for you to take so he could once again guide you down those same stairs.

“Hello my love.”

105 notes · View notes

jewelserket · 3 years

Text

So I decided to write a bit about my D&d character’s backstory. I’m pretty proud of it so I thought I’d pop it onto here. I will say that the intended audience was my fellow players and not tumblr, however I’m a busy student and don’t have a ton of time to edit it. So, without further ado, I present to you:

Dreams of Doran, P1/?

TW: Depictions of murder, child murder, gore, fire, loose depiction of PTSD and vomit.

Doran shifted awkwardly in the poorly padded seat. His father’s desk chairs were always frustratingly uncomfortable and hardly fit Doran’s hulking frame. Silence stretched over the room as he awaited his father’s arrival into the study. His gaze danced upwards to the three massive paints along the wall. They depicted the three generations of his family, each man’s stone gaze boring into Doran’s flesh. Silence shattered with the sound of the door swinging open. Doran peered back at the man who entered, his father. He watched the man stride over to the opposite side of the desk. Once his father was situated in front of him, Doran spoke up, “Hello, Lord Reaver. Glad to see you didn’t die on the way here.”

Reaver narrowed his eyes at his son, “Glad to see you're actually early for once.”

“Oh, I’m always on time.” Doran suppressed a roll of his eyes.

A low growl slid out of Reaver. One that made Doran stiffen and drop his gaze. His father meant business. Reaver ended his growl with a snarl, “If you’re done being an ass, I have a mission for you.”

Doran nodded. The weight of his father’s gaze crushed the air from his lungs. He could feel his father’s snarl relax into a satisfied smirk. Before Doran could force out a response, Reaver continued, “Good. Pull out the map.”

The son did as told. He tugged an old, yellowing map of the region from a small basket near by and rolled it out along the desk. Then he sat back in the uncomfortable chair, and watched his father pull out small, wooden figurines. He placed one on the mountain city they resided in, then several others out on enemy fields. Doran stared at them, a frown crossing his face. Reaver inspected his own work for a moment, then continued, “These are enemy encampments. You are to gather troops and go burn them down.”

Doran was silent for a moment. Then, without meeting his father’s eye, he glared down at the table, “What you’re suggesting is—“

“Is important to keeping this land safe. If we drive them out, they’ll be weaker.”

“It’s also incredibly wrong and dishonorable.”

Reaver shot to his feet, towering over his son, “You want to talk dishonorable? Their men have already destroyed our homes, murdered our families. They’ve slaughtered more than we have by the hundreds. What you’re doing is protecting our god damn people. Unless you really are too much of a worthless little worm to do even that.”

Doran’s words dried up on his tongue. Whatever fight was in him had been dashed away by his father. He nodded, small and heavy. Reaver smirked. An air of satisfaction floated about him as he continued, “I’ve already gathered your Generals. You will leave at nightfall. Do not let any of their scouts escape, or you’ll lose your surprise advantage. You’ll take them out starting closest to the mountains, and end with this camp here. Any further in is too well established in their territory. It would be a suicide mission.”

Doran nodded, then rose to his feet, “You are always the bearer of bad news, aren’t you, father.”

“Consider it an honor to be assisting our country in this way. Now get out of my sight. I have shit to do and you’re very distracting.”

Doran could only respond with a curt nod. He strode to the door, pausing for a second with his hand on the handle. His gaze shot back to his father. Reaver was staring down at the battle map, ignoring his son. Doran’s grip tightened on the handle for a moment, then he swung the door open and slipped out. The door slammed shut behind him, but Doran found himself frozen in place just outside. A shaking sigh escaped his throat. His father was right. He was doing what was needed for those in the mountains and beyond. That didn’t fix the wrong feeling that gnawed at his stomach. He did his best to push the squirming discomfort away. He had preparations to take care of, and the first step was checking on Zulius.

Smoke clogged Doran’s nose and stained his body with its scent. The heat of flame roared in front of him, but his gaze was on the night sky. They still had several hours before the sun rose, which gave Doran some uneasy relief. Under him, Zulius shifted with discomfort. He snorted and shook out his striped mane. Doran sighed, sliding an armored hand up and down the Zebra’s neck. He hated to admit that it was for his own comfort as well as the zebra’s. Around him, his men were gathering up the few survivors to prevent them from running. Doran bit his lip and led his steed over to the small crowd of soldiers.

One of his men looked up at him, “There weren’t as many in this camp, General.”

Doran rolled his shoulders back. His face was dark, intimidating, as he growled out, “I told you this twice now and I’ll tell you again. We cannot risk them escaping. Kill them.”

The man nodded and moved back to the group. Doran turned away from them, not wanting to see what he was causing. That did not stop the screams of pain from reaching his ears. The smell of blood quickly overpowered that of the smoke. A sickness rolled in his stomach that he had to force down. He trotted Zulius over to the one commander not surrounding the enemy, his marshal, and growled out, “How close is the next camp? We have only a few hours till day break.”

The marshal was curt, “One hour, Captain, give or take.”

“Then we best head out. The more ground we cover, the better. There is only one camp left, correct?”

The marshal nodded. Doran narrowed his eyes, silent for a moment. Then he spun Zulius around. He watched as his men approached him. Blood had stained up their weapons and splattered across their faces. Doran boomed his next command out to them, “Gather the soldiers. We head out now.”

Before any of them could respond, Doran marched Zulius off in the direction of their next destination. His marshal stuck close behind and, a moment later, the rest of the warriors were in tow. There was a silence about them that was only broken by the shifting of armor. Doran lifted his head a bit higher. The gaze of his subordinates dug into his back, looking for his leadership. Doran could feel the weight of their nerves and the bloodied sin of their actions. He took a deep breath and rose himself a tad bit higher. He could not afford to be weak, for their sake if not for his.

Yet, as the cold of the night time forest surrounded him, Doran felt a sickening feeling in his stomach. The urge to vomit chewed at the back of his mind. He wrote the feeling off as the weight from his actions, but something deep down whispered that something was going to go wrong.

“Fire!!”

The roar of flame coated arrows filled the air. Doran stared out at the camp which was now thoroughly surrounded by his officers. His marshal stood nearby, watching as the archers nocked their arrows. Doran’s eyes were locked on the camp itself as the first light of fire licked at the buildings. That word was what bothered Doran: Buildings. Not one or two, as would be custom for a large camp. Many house-like buildings. Flame spread across their thatch roofs at lightning speed.

“Fire!!”

Doran jumped at his marshal’s voice beside him. The lieutenant was too focused on the second volley of arrows to notice Doran’s reaction. Archers prepared their next volley as the surrounding soldiers prepared to stop any escapees. As the second volley landed, the first screams erupted into the air. Something about them was wrong. They were too high pitched, too young. Doran’s eyes widened.

“Fire!!”

From the houses poured out soldiers, yes, but more notably was the unarmored others. His eyes locked onto a mother, scorch marks crawling up her face. In her arms was a howling baby that clutched at her shirt. The mother screamed, running towards the trees. Her line of escape was stopped with a spray of blood, a sword through her chest. Others followed her, creating a panicked circle at the center of the camp. A child clung to his mother’s skirt, his legs scorched. Blood ran down the face of someone who was perhaps only thirteen, but her focus was only on that of the two children at her side. Surrounding the bubbling mass of screaming children were what few soldiers were there to protect the camp.

“Fire!!”

Doran opened his mouth to stop his marshal but he was far too late. Screams erupted into the air. Fire lit up among the crowd. Bodies dropped to the ground, dead from the first hit. Those that survived screeched in pain. The sounds rung in Doran’s ears as he watched one of the children be consumed with flame. By the end of that volley, few were left moving. The marshal opened his mouth to start the final volley, but Doran grabbed his shoulder, “No.”

The marshal looked back at him, “There’s still—“

“I’m aware. We go in and… and pick them off.”

The lieutenant rolled his eyes but called off the volley. He moved to bark an order again, but Doran stopped him again, “I’ll do it. Make sure the soldiers pick off any runners.”

The marshal started to talk back but Doran cut him off with a growl. Doran’s dark gaze forced the man to look down. Zulius let out a frustrated winnie as Doran led him towards the flames. He skirted the edges of the crumbling settlement, watching the flames lick away at the remains. His eyes caught on a particular house, where a burnt corpse had never made it out of the door before it had collapsed. They couldn’t have been older than fifteen before the wooden frame had impaled them. The look of horrified pain that stretched across the corpse’s face burned itself into the back of Doran’s mind. His hands started to shake but he forced a deep breath down his throat. The smell of burnt human flesh slithered its way up his nose, one that he was painfully accustomed to.

He continued his trot around, pausing as the fire died down enough to pass into the remains of the camp. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a runner. Their sprint was abruptly ended at the edge of the camp. An axe cleaved clean through their body. Doran suppressed a grimace. His steely gaze stayed locked on the center of the camp. Finally, he came to a stop. The smell of burnt skin clung to his senses. Bile rose up in his chest. Before him was what could only be described as a pile of flesh and bones. There were some faces in the mass, varying in age and race. Their empty eye sockets burned the image into his brain. For a moment, Doran stared. All was stillness, silence. Whatever flames remained seemed almost frozen in time. They roared louder than the pounding of his heart and burned more than the tears that threatened to break through his steeled gaze. Something moved in the pile that caught his gaze. Out pushed a kid covered in burnt viscera. He could not have been older than nine. The kid was relatively unharmed, though he was shaking. Tears cut lines through the viscera on his face. There was a grunt as a larger figure pushed out behind him. Doran’s stomach sank.

The one who pushed out behind him was a member of the opposing army. He was young, maybe sixteen, and went by the name of Riot. He was well known for going on a frenzy and slicing like a maniac through Doran’s family’s armies. Yet, in this moment was a crushing hopelessness that the kid failed to hide behind the rage in his eyes. He glared up at Doran. Doran had seen him fight in the past, watched him slice through his men. Yet, in that moment, he seemed so… small. Doran’s grip tightened around his lance.

“I thought you were taking care of it, General,” The hiss of his marshal made Doran jump.

He looked down at the marshal who stared up at him with crossed arms. There was a smirk on that bastard’s face. Doran growled, “I am. Go back to the men.”

“I’d rather watch this. Wouldn’t want to have to report a failure to your father.”

Doran’s fists turned white under his gauntlet from the strength of his grip, “So be it.”

His gaze turned back to the children before him. He lifted his lance, though sickness filled his stomach. Riot marched towards him, dragging a great sword behind him. Doran led Zulius back a few steps, then took a deep breath. He kicked Zulius into a charge, aiming his weapon. He felt it plunge into flesh far easier than it should have. Doran’s heart froze as Zulius took several steps before he slowed to a stop. His gaze slid to the end of his lance. There was the boy, the child who had crawled out of the meat pile. Doran’s hand began to shake as he tilted the lance down. Some part of him begged for the boy to breath, to not be bleeding out through his stomach. His face was set into a frozen, dark eyed gaze. Below him, the child was still, his eyes glazed over.

Doran slid his gaze back to Riot, who stared in shock. He had been pushed away by the kid. Doran instinctively lifted his lance as Riot sprinted towards him. Before the General could react, though, Riot had pushed past him. He fell to his knees beside the child, shaking him, “W-Wait! Wait no! Wake up!”

Doran led Zulius a step backwards, then turned to his lieutenant. The marshal smirked up at him, a gesture which Doran returned as a glare. He growled, “That’s enough. We’ve done enough.”

“What about-“

Doran pointed his lance at the marshal, “No. Call off the troops. We’re going back.”

The marshal snarled but turned around and stormed away. Doran’s lance grip loosened as the sick feeling welled up in his stomach. He turned back to Riot, who sat frozen over the body. For a moment, he just stared at the boy. Then he wrenched Zulius around and led him out of the camp. As he exited the camp, he felt vomit rise up and…

Doran lurched upwards. His eyes were wide and sweat slicked his brow. He half dragged, half stumbled himself over to the edge of the water. His entire body shook violent as vomit poured out of him and into the water. The smell of burnt flesh clung to his nose as he stared down at his reflection. The ink that stained his face seemed almost to be blood. Tears streaked down his face, mixing with the sweat. He squeezed his eyes shut, but the only image in his mind was the face of the child on his lance.

“Deep breath..” he whispered to himself, pushing against the rising panic in his chest. His breath was cut off as another bubble of puke tumbled out of him.

Doran sucked as deep a breath as he could. His gaze shot around the cove. Around him was the tents of Antione and Anawe. Out at the entrance of the cove was Mirka, staring out at the ocean. He clung to the edge of the rock, grateful that Mirka had not heard him awake. Another deep breath brought him enough strength to wipe the sweat from his face. He pulled his hand away, wincing at the sight of the ink. Given the darkness, it still appeared to be blood. Doran shook his head, then reached down to the water. Some part of him was thankful for its icy cold. He splashed it across his face, which helped reduce his shaking. Again, he splashed himself. Then a third time, causing his upper body to be thoroughly soaked.

He stumbled to his feet, gazing back at the sleeping form of Zulius. He sighed. There was no way in all the hells that he was going back to sleep. Doran forced himself to take one last deep breath. A smile plastered its way onto his face. He slid over to Mirka, hands hidden behind him due to their shaking. The massive man stopped beside Mirka, smiling, “H-Hey.”

Doran winced as his voice broke. He coughed a bit, then whispered again, “Hey. I’ll take watch now.”

Mirka gazed over, “Oh hey, thanks.”

The two exchanged a smile and Mirka tiptoed back inside. Doran watched them go back inside, then leaned on the wall. He slid down to sit, leaning his head back. His gaze stared up into the sky, watching the stars. It would be daylight within three or so hours, it seemed. The starlight seemed almost sickeningly familiar. He sighed and rubbed his face. It was going to be a long night.

#dungeons and dragons #d&d story #D&d #writing #fiction #murder #author #backstory #dreams of Doran #fun write

1 note · View note