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dangermousie · 3 years

Note

Hello !

I was wondering whether you could rate and tell us of your top 5 favourite webnovels/cnovels of all time ?! (Sorry if this has already been answered lol😅)

Thank you, stay safe and have a nice day🖤

Awww, thank you and that is such a lovely ask!!!

From n1 to n5, here they are (they happen to be all danmei.)

1. The Husky and His White Cat Shizun (2ha) - my n1 forever and ever.

Taxian Jun, the horrific cultivation emperor of the world who razed cities and destroyed sects, is surrounded on his mountain. The righteous sects are terrified to confront him but tired of living, Taxian Jun consumes poison and dies by suicide at the age of 32. And opens his eyes as 16 year old Mo Ran, Mo Ran long before he became Taxian Jun, Mo Ran who is excited at a chance to save the one person he loved and lost. Oh, and to deal with his loathed shizun, the unapproachable and strict Chu Wanning, his past life’s biggest enemy.

I have no idea if it’s objectively the best on this list but it hits every trope I love, its bleak worldview (the world will change only incrementally but that’s enough, average person will not appreciate the sacrifice but it’s still worthwhile, and love is worth everything) mirrors mine, and the sheer complexity of the plot and cascade of plot twists each of which is insane and yet completely logical, is amazing (this is a rare novel where it’s even more fun to reread than read for the first time because you keep seeing all the hints and trail crumbs laid out that you did not see the first time.)

And the characters!!! I mean, this novel has multiple universes/timelines, a side trip to the Underworld AND the demon realm, a plot more twisted than a store’s worth of pretzels and yet the thing that hits me the most are the characters. Mo Ran is my favorite web novel character of all time and I love Chu Wanning so. All the secondary characters are wonderfully written (and some of them made me bawl) and they are all complex. My opinion of all of them changed many times over; the novel doesn’t make it easy to love some of them but then you do and it’s so worthwhile! That slow change is one of the delights of the novel - I started out disliking the unpleasant, superior Chu Wanning and cruel, callow Mo Ran and then I loved them so so hard and cried for them so so hard and was in awe of their heroism and sacrifice and selflessness and capacity to love.

Oh, and the fact that this novel does something almost impossible - it has its protagonist start out as so clearly irredeemable and then slowly and painfully and thoroughly redeems him (without ever letting the reader forget what it is he needs redemption for.)

Also, for a novel that made me cry so hard I felt ill, this book is just so damn funny with the most sarcastic sense of humor imaginable (the serious angst doesn’t even kick in until 90+ chapters!)

Anyway I should stop or I will write a dissertation. But this is the one web novel that I would put in my top 5 not just web novels but any novels in any shape or form. The plentiful trigger warnings are there for a reason so stay away if they are an issue, but if not, if anyone hasn’t read it yet, what are you doing with your life?!

2. Stains of Filth (Yuwu) - another novel by the author of 2ha. Clearly she just pushes all my buttons every time. This one is much shorter and has a plot that is twisty but less twisty than 2ha. Still, all that means is that intensity and the pain are more concentrated.

Aristocratic Mo Xi and former slave Gu Mang were both legendary generals of the empire and lovers. But Gu Mang betrayed the country and switched to the enemy. Now he is back as a peace offering by that country and Mo Xi has to deal with the fact that his feelings are as strong as ever.

This novel!!! So much pain and intensity!!! So many amazing plot twists and supporting characters. The same bleak world view, the same unjust society, the same protagonists doing right things despite the cost. Mo Xi’s intensity and inability to let go (he’s imprinted on Gu Mang and that’s it) is romantic, bone-shakingly intense, and tragic all at once. And oh Gu Mang! So many times I just wanted to reach into the book physically to protect him. The novel deals with unjust societies, memory versus personality, what it’s like to be good in a bad universe etc. And it both made me sob and giggle, repeatedly, and sold me on literally death-defying (but not honor-defying!) love.

Oh, and special shout out to the fact that like 2ha, you may start out hating some characters and end up a rabid fangirl (cough Murong Lian!)

3. Qiang Jin Jiu - a dense political tome that takes a while to get going but then it’s a runaway train.

In a fictional dynasty, Shen Zechuan, the only remaining son of a disgraced aristocratic family and Xiao Chiye, the younger son of a family of generals guarding the border join forces (and then something else) to get power and pull down the dysfunctional system.

This is so elegant and smart (a rare web novel I’d recommend to anyone who just loves solid period fiction) and you probably need a notebook to keep track of the politics and military strategy. These characters are very very smart not just because the author says so.

As to the characters, there is a large cast and I love many of them, but for me the novel is made by Shen Zechuan and Xiao Chiye. SZC is gorgeous and delicate and icy and can kill you before you have time to blink. Saddled with the sins of the family he had no pleasant interaction with, he claws his way out of hell (seeing the sinkhole he was trapped in, literally as well) to take down those who wronged him but also to amass power so all the tragedy and corruption won’t happen again and the whole rotten system comes crashing down. XCY is a military genius who is trapped as a hostage in the capital because the court doesn’t trust his family. He longs to return to the plains of home and to take his rightful place. The two men start out as bitter enemies, then reluctant and sniping allies, then as friends and eventually as one of the most gorgeous, tender, swoony OTPs.

Anyway this is one is a bona fide masterpiece, equal parts smart and emotionally intense.

4. Wu Chang Jie - are you an emotional vampire? I am and this novel is a banquet.

In a highly fantastical setting, we meet our protagonists - the sunny Xie Bian and the intense and surly Fan Wushe. Xie Bian is a human who assists his master in conveying souls to the underworld and making sure no mishaps happen. Bian is concentrated sunshine in human form and to meet him is to love him. When the novel opens, his drunk master brings back another human to be his shidi and assist with duties - said human is uncommunicative, intense and surly Wushe. Bian is excited to have a shidi but little does he know that a story dealing with the horrors of past lifetime is about to start.

Anyway, why WCJ? So many reasons. It has such a dark bleak worldview - this world is a horrifying system where powerful cannibalize each other’s cores for an impossible chance to ascend, where gods have sealed off their realm and all that’s left is neverending human misery and hell (the only way you’d see a deity is if they’d been sent down to suffer over and over and over), where even reincarnation doesn’t fix things and bad acts are often unpunished. And the novel then asks - is it worth being a good person in such a world? More, is it worth being a good person in such a world when nothing good has ever happened to you and you have been repeatedly betrayed due to your goodness? And the answer, on Bian’s part, is an uncompromising yes.

Ah yes, the other reason to love this novel - the protagonists and their fucked up fucked up relationship. Bian (who was Prince Ziheng in the past life) is so genuinely good. But he is that rare thing - good but not saintly, noble but not cloying. So much of the novel is his getting taken apart over and over and barely able to put himself back together every time but his soul is still as amazing as ever.

And then there is Wushe (who was Prince Zixiao in past life, Ziheng’s not-bio-related brother.) Wushe is not a good person. He is a monster. And he loves Bian/Ziheng more than his life and his soul and the entire world but he’s also the one who hurt him more than anyone else ever could and did it over and over. His love survived a literal century of torture in the worst kind of hell and refused the usual memory loss of new life. But it also humiliated and broke Ziheng down to his constituent parts.

One of the things that is so fascinating to me about this novel is the question of what can be forgiven/what should be forgiven/what kind of expiation is enough/can you ever love someone who you loved so much and then he hurt you so badly and is now repentant? And it never sweeps trauma under the rug or hand waves it away but deals with it head on.

If you want healthy relationships, you should stay far away from this novel but if intense insane ones with a feral barely human one capable of destroying the world leashed by love and guilt to the sane deeply good one is your bag, come right in.

There is also the world building and the fact that yes, the big fall out between Ziheng x Zixiao is based on not knowing all the facts but it’s not “why can’t you talk?! This is dumb!” But is totally in keeping with both events and their characters. It’s reasonable for Ziheng to do what he does and for Zixiao to misunderstand and decide Ziheng is now his biggest enemy (but still one he’s fixated on) and for Ziheng to never be able to clarify.

Anyway, once again this is trigger warning central so please heed those, but if they are no issue, this one is wonderful.

5. OK, this is hard and switches between Sha Po Lang, Heaven Official’s Blessing and The Golden Stage depending on my mood. So what the hell, I am gonna write about all of them.

Sha Po Lang - so smart and so much clever world building. There is enough politicking to satisfy a Qiang Jin Jiu fan, it’s steampunk, and our two protagonists - Gu Yun, the empire’s most powerful general, who’s loyal to the empire despite being badly wronged by it, and Chang Geng, a cursed prince with barbarian blood and horrifying childhood - are wonderful separately and together. This is a huge slow burn but it’s totally worth it! They fall in love with each other’s hearts and brains and ability as much as anything. (Yes, this is the one with the yifu thing. Gu Yun is made Chang Geng’s foster father when he rescues him and brings him back to the capital as a way to keep CG safe in imperial strife. They are 12 and 19 at the time so clearly it’s never a parental relationship.)

Heaven Official’s Blessing (TCGF) - I love it’s sprawling narrative and cast, I love its inventive setting and picaresque story. It’s hilarious and can make me cry. But the novel’s place on this list is due to Xie Lian who is part Kenshin part drama WWX part pure goodness wrapped in heartbreak and trauma wrapped in sunshine.

The Golden Stage - two smart and principled (yes, they both have principles different though they may be) men navigate their arranged marriage, their past friendship and their past break up, become a super couple (one of the healthiest danmei couples I’ve ever read and proves healthy doesn’t have to be boring), save the country and bring down the emperor or two and just generally this is my rainy day book.

I guess I didn’t write as much for the three n5 candidates as I did for 1-4 but my brain is beginning to curdle so...

#cnovel #heaven official's blessing #2ha #yuwu #sha po lang #qiang jin jiu #wu chang jie #the golden stage #tcgf #asks

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momoliee · 3 years

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Hi, momoliee....if you don't mind me asking, can I ask your top 3 favorite characters from 2ha? And your top 5 (or top 3) favorite moments from the novel? Sorry if you've answered this question before....Thanks....

Top 3 characters :

1. Chu!! Wanning!!! : precious, precious, extremely misunderstood, amazingly kind character. I love him for every possible reason you could imagine. The way he gets embarrassed easily and the way he hates expressing emotions and the way he always means well and the way he’s so so protective over his disciples. He’s so insecure even tho he’s just, everything really I mean what does cwn NOT have ? He has a huuuuuge piece of my heart because he’s one of the most organic, genuine, realistic and pure hearted characters without being all ‘sweet and nice’

2. Mo ran : mo ran is like, the MOST realistic fictional character I’ve ever encountered, like ever. Like, it’s so so possible to meet a guy like mo ran in real life and that’s just because of how WELL and EXCELLENTLY written he is. Mo ran is a full fledged character with all his flaws and terrible mistakes lining up to make a queue but at the bottom of it all, he’s just a guy who wants to save earthworms. If you treat him well he will put you in his eyes and make sure you never lack anything ever again, especially not love. But mo ran isnt all sweet smiles eithet, no hes also petty and wrathful and just…mo ran being mo ran. I love all versions of him, the traumatized and lonely taxian jun, the little jerk and bastard mo ran 1.0, and the ever so gentlemanly mo ran 2.0.

3. Xue Meng : hes just baby. He suffered as much as any other character in 2ha. Losing his parents, his brother, his best friend and his beloved Shizun. At some point he was gonna trade anythung to have them back. Xue Meng is spoiled but he’s kind, he’s more prone to giving rather than asking. He’s noble and honest and upright, and he just wouldn’t take your shit while lying down. Also he’s a little fussy but that’s just a part of his charm.

Honorary mentions : Xue Zhengyong (this man took care of a woman whose heart wasn’t his, a son who wasnt from his own blood, built a sect just to protect the poor, and would always think of ways to gain money just to invest it in the safety of the poor) and jiang xi (tsundere asexual cold beauty need I say more)

Top 5 moments :

1. The confession by the moon in the sky : that was so magical, enchanting, made me believe in fairytales and love again.

2. That taxian jun scene where he wears his old sisheng peak clothes and struggles to remember how he used to tie his hair just to go back to his youths : it made me cry. It just, expressed how lonely and regretful and sad taxian jun is in ways that can never be told.

3. When cwn came out of his 5 year seclusion and mo ran 2.0 started hand feeding him in the cafeteria in front of everyone : my heart swelled with the love and affection founded in such a small gesture

4. The New Years celebration when Xue Meng got drunk and cwn played for the whole sect : wholesome. The last time they were all happy and together before shit started to go down. It was the most home-y warm scene ever, filled with such innocence and peace

5. Cwn hugging txj from behind as the big wave is about to crush them and they’re all about to die, saying “let me be selfish for once and die with him”, telling txj that he and mo ran 2.0 are one : I cried so hard. They loved each other so much they were ready to die together. Stand there and sacrifice themselves for the whole world but not without the other. I just, I was in tears ok (also txj was so sarcastic and snarky in that scene he gained my HEART)

Honorary mentions : farm arc (for obvious reasons) and xia sini bits (cause🥺 (also mo ran : is xia sini actually your son) )

#2ha #erha #the husky and his white cat shizun #dumb husky and his white cat shizun #meatbun #meatbun doesn’t eat meat

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wistfulrat · 3 years

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im sorry if u dont do fic recs u can ignore this! ive been seeing ur reblogs n its kinda putting me back to mdzs mood (i thought i was over this sike to me ig) n if u have any fics uve read n liked id gladly take any 🤲

oh i love this for u!! im def new here so i haven’t actually read a ton but my fic finding method is currently —1) ask @lanwangjigrumpyfacecollection what i should read bc their taste is immaculate and i always end up crying at whatever they rec 2) after reading a particularly excellent fic, comb thru that author’s ao3 bookmarks, rinse repeat etc—and that hasn’t failed me yet :)

anyway here’s a list of my faves so far!

The Roots Grow Riotous by hansbekhart - 104k E a fashion industry au from LWJ’s pov. immersive, devastating, poetic. i could probs write an essay-length reflection on this shit. felt genuinely rearranged after reading it. a stand alone novel in its own right. a beautiful exploration of grief, loneliness, despair, horror, etc. like, come for the lovely wangxian dynamics and them being hot, stay for the revelatory LWJ character study that had me in fucking tearsss by the end. truly deserves to be read widely just for how singular and cinematic that third act is.

Three changes. by orange_crushed - 18k M for someone who reads so much angst i could choke on it, i love to recover with distilled tenderness, no hurt all yearning etc. and this is the blossoming of summer love cql-lecture-arc the boys deserved. peak comfort fic mentally i am in that lake scene. young terrified-of-love LWJ my beloved!!

Say So by @lanwangjigrumpyfacecollection - 15k E feat. a sex-cursed WWX incapable of playing it cool. LWJ is not not pleased. more importantly who is doing it like feelsforbreakfast. who!!! u know i had zero intention of getting into the untamed even tho it ruled my dash for 2 years and yet the moment ffb wrote a fic? im there. say less. say nothing at all. ur always in for a tender funny horny time. it’s hot it’s hilarious it’s abt the mortifying ordeal of voicing what one wants. 10/10 re-readability.

your name, safe in their mouth by astrolesbian - 10k G [lan sizhui gets sick on a night hunt. wei wuxian comforts him. they both have a lot of feelings about it.] how to gently rip out my heart and stitch it back together in 10k words: explore literally any aspect of WWX-LSZ father-son relationship. be sure to include post-resurrection WWX feeling like he’ll always be playing catch up with lost time and the people who had to survive his death. feature a vulnerable LSZ (who just wants to be close with his undead dad) and a wary WWX (who doesn’t know if he deserves that closeness). im still emo abt this

Pentimento. by orange_crushed - 73k E [Former best friends Lan Wangji, paintings conservator, and Wei Wuxian, art handler, meet again and realize... neither of them were actually in unrequited love.] immaculate setting, i read it for that reason alone. loved LWJ’s pov in this—reserved, self-conscious, observant, sad, suffocating with unspoken desires etc. but it’s the final paragraphs of the last chapter that got me. thee loveliest surprise and such a satisfying close to the story.

A Very Star-Like Start by hansbekhart - 3k E short lovely soft perfect. the extended cql wangxian lotus lake boat scene we deserved.

All that is solid melts into air by huxiyi - 18k T was absolutely taken with the premise of this fic bc 1) i love angst 2) i love seeing a bitter/sad/angry wangxian in their older age making amends 3) i love thinking about the class dynamics in CQL, WWX’s robin-hood streak, all the villains having origin stories that amount to a lack of status, and the breakdown of relationships because of these dynamics. everything is a sad mess but it will be ok!

No night as deep as my night. by orange_crushed - 17k E another orange_crushed bc well. if u find a good author it makes sense to work thru all their fics. anyway this one is a post-nightless city au. wwx on the verge of death. lwj desperate to save him. equal parts dark and lovely. idk how to explain it but i feel like orange_crushed excels at using a fic setting to build emotional landscapes that completely expand ur understanding of a character. this one in particular feels like a love letter to the burial mounds, homes made out of dead things, personified darkness, etc.

#asks #mdzs #cql

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volfoss · 3 years

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how about ranking bucciarati's team?

regret to inform you that ur gonna get a very long answer bc i have passionate feelings about them all! also trish is in this bc she is part of the team and no one will tell me otherwise and will also include some rambling bc it is me and i have so many feelings towards these characters and none of them r cohesive

under the cut just in case (post writing yes it was long)

Giorno Giovanna:

way way more complex than ppl normally give him credit for (i will not go into feelings on how a majority of the fandom treats him unless ppl want me to then i will in fact make a very long ranty post and will not be stopped)

mildly op (esp at the beginning with how hes kind of able to just use his stand really well w no problems altho i think thats true of most of the jojos that we have seen animated?)

i am emotionally attached to him and want to give him a big hug

hes just a kinda goofy kid and is maybe a bit not good with figuring out hey this is a semi dangerous situation maybe i shouldnt be taunting him (leaky eye luca for example)

has the actual best theme

i love how he works off the rest of the team so well (even w members who do not like him)

is in my top 3 jojos i love this kid sm i would adopt him if he was real

7/10

Bruno Bucciarati:

the fucking way his character develops from licky man to best dad material is my favorite thing

his outfit is so so so good i would die to wear it

in general this man is one of my fave jojos characters and i get a lot of comfort from him

hes just really neat and has a good taste in music

he did his fucking best and i will always love him for that

imo the way that his death was drawn out was genuinely one of the most heartbreaking deaths in the entire series and fucks me up each time i think of it

i feel like he really is the one to hold the team together in a way that everyone feels cared for and saved

def has a savior complex tho for sure

dilf but im ace

also manga superiority bc he either makes the stupidest faces or looks very nice (anime has a lot of weird animation in regards to his face) and also because its lingerie there instead of a tattoo that changes thickness and placement every second

10/10

Leone Abbacchio:

guilty pleasure liking man

i am obsessed with his vibes and wish to become him

i cannot physically express just how much i love him but hes one of my faves of all time (not obvious by my theme at all wdym)

i miss his manga palette but also the colored manga isnt my beloved but also black lipstick abba

hot take maybe but anime abba looks better than manga minus the lipstick debacle

hes so so tall and i will steal his height in a nice way

his past man his past it fucks me up

his death fucks me up normally but when i was rewatching recently, i saw he gave this tiny lil smile after helping the kids get their ball and i could not take it anymore

him and brunos relationship (canonically and out of canon too) is one of my favorites in the series

also fandom hot take as i guess i am doing those for everyone- but ppl either have him as cosntantly trying to murder giorno or being like good son and v out of character, and it is really weird? not sayign that ill do better when i write them but also like im convinced some ppl havent seen the show or smth

i will steal both him and bruno and marry them both <3

this man is beloved i love him to death

10/10

Pannacotta Fugo:

i cannot spell his first name to save my life

also fandom take- ppl make him constantly only angry boy all the time and it really irks me. ik araki did not give him 2 much to work w in terms of canon personality but its frustrating

the light novel purple haze feedback is so so so good and adds sm to his character and i really like it for that!

fugo is one of those that imo deserves a lot and didnt get that

genuinely the vibes between how he treats narancia is v interesting to me, like its clear he cares about nara but nara not doing great w math really frustrates him

i love their interactions and how he is genuinely a kind person at times

the manga colors r superior here, my strawberry boy <3

i just really love and appreciate him a lot and wish that ppl gave him more love

i keep getting assigned him on kin quizzes

very smart good boy

ALSO ok fugo did not do any wrong by leaving

unsure if thats a hot take but i genuinely dont blame the character one bit for leaving and again purple haze feedback really delves into that and why he did it

if ur a fugo fan go read it

his past is really upsetting esp in the anime i will cry over it

his stand is adorable and i wanna hug it

his vibes r fun and i wanna gift him strawberry dangly earrings

8/10

Narancia Ghirga:

this boy i am also adopting (i am adopting most of them sorry)

i really hate how ppl act as if hes stupid bc bad math skills do not equal stupid like did ppl not see the fight w formaggio??

the way he just fucking dove into the water after the boat and how brunos face went all soft and happy it will never not make me cry

he is constnatnly making me wanna cry if i think too much about him for 2 seconds i love him sm

how can anyone not adore him when he set an entire street on fire yk

hes just happy despite his past and it makes me sad i love nara sm

torture dance is one of my favorite memes from the show

ALSO ok the way he died so suddenly absolutely broke me bc the remaining team members r really just seeing everyone die in front of them so quickly

his goofy and laid back moments r my fave

i love just how loyal and caring he is to his friends

his stand is really cool and again the fight w formaggio was so fun to watch

8/10

Guido Mista:

probably my least favorite member of the team for a semi good reason:

the jokes towards trish are really really uncomfy and how fugo doesnt wanna be involved but he is pushing him to do something that makes him uncomfortable did not make me like him a lot

hes goofy but not goofy enough for me to be ok with the repeated jokes about that esp in the body swap episode (ik it was supposed to be funny but it just felt off)

his vibes r good but i wish we got to see his hair

the fandom interpretation is normally pretty good of him overall?

despite not loving him a lot, i really enjoying writing for him (one day might open up headcanon requests or smth but unsure)

hes someone id wanna watch movies w but his taste in movies and mine r very different

love how he and his stand get along

honestly has very very good comedic potential

i really like how he and giorno interact as the series goes on (in a platonic way i need to clarify that i love their friendship)

again him in purple haze feedback was really interesting

probably a 5/10?

Trish Una:

beloved and deserved better

her first outfit in the manga > outfit in the anime

actually in general i believe in manga trish superiority like her hair in the manga looks so cool

her stand her stand her stand i love sm

if u dont include trish in the group i am murdering u <3

HER CHARACTER DEVELOPMENT!!!! IS SO GOOD!!!!!!

fandom gripe is how people either pretend she does not exist or has the trish first introduction thing where shes using her defense mechanisms and acting a bit spoiled

OK but her in purple haze feedback!!! mild spoilers but how bruno was taking care of her post the ending of vento aureo makes me so happy each time i think of it

very mad that she canonically didnt really get an ending and yet again PHF my beloved actually gave her that

how spice girl starts out as a stand thats helping her thru a very stressful situation is so cool and i love it

DAD BRUNO DAD BRUNO DAD BRUNO *frothes at the mouth*

but more seriously how she leans on bruno and begins 2 trust him and nearly point blank is referring to him as a father figure always fucks me up

esp because of the resulting fight afterwards

and the very ending of the arc that ends w bruno being like bye gonna go in the clouds and look ethereal now, oh man it makes me so sad

bc giorno is the only one that knew what happened and people that were closer to bruno due to knowing him longer didnt

i wanna see how trish coped w that personally

despite being introduced not at the beginning i think her arc and character in general were as well paced as it could be!

9/10

finally done! sorry that took so long but oh man i have so many feelings towards these guys its not even funny

#asks #wholesome mutuals #vento aureo spoilers #to add that bruno is one of my faves of all time is probably obvious by me putting him at 10/10 #fiance bullies me lovingly for liking leone so that is explanation 4 first bullet #he has not even met him but just calls him piss man #the fandoms treatment of most of these characters makes me really mad tbh

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weasleyslag · 3 years

Text

i could probably hit your baby mama

summary: Fred's death has been really hard on everyone, especially his pregnant fiancée. George creeps into her room in the middle of the night to retrieve something, and due to darkness combined with her grief, she mistakes George for Fred.

pairing(s): Fred Weasley/ f! Reader (past), George Weasley/Angelina Johnson

wc: 1573

warning(s): pregnancy, grief/mourning

a/n: Oh my god the tone of this story so does not match the title, but I couldn't help myself. I can’t believe I let a TikTok song about sex inspire me to write a grief fic.

ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30626528

You had been having a really hard time lately. Anyone could have guessed that. It was to be expected. Being in your third trimester of pregnancy was hard enough; it was infinitely harder when your partner had passed away. You didn’t have time to pause and mourn, your life was so hectic now. You had doctor’s appointments, maternity shoots, brunches and parties to accept your pregnancy. The doctor’s appointments were obviously a must, you would never dream of missing them, but the photos and parties? There was nothing you wanted to do less. You didn’t want to celebrate. Fred was gone. If it was up to you, there’d never be another party in the whole world ever again. But the Weasleys and all your friends wanted to celebrate and they were mourning too, so you didn’t want to let them down.

The only person that had the same mentality of not wanting to move on and bring happiness back into their life was George. Sure, the others had lost a friend, a brother, a son, and that was devastating. But George and you had a bond with him that far surpassed that. George had immediately closed Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes (you had to convince him to not sell the space altogether) and locked himself in his room all day, only opening the door to talk to you or Angelina. Hell, Angelina practically had to force feed him in order to get him to eat. You felt like acting the same but it seemed for some reason, most likely your pregnancy, the others expected you to act differently. They wanted you to be the carrier of a beam of light at the end of the tunnel. And you supposed they were right, the twins you carried in your womb (you had never realized before you got pregnant how big the jump in percentage of carrying a twin pregnancy would be when twins ran in the family) were the one joy in a tragic situation. But that was them, not you. You wanted to stay in bed and cry all day. That luxury, however, was not provided for you. Therefore, most of your crying was done late into the night.

It was close to 2am when George ventured out of his room one night. He didn’t like to be up when other people were around, lest they see the mess that he had devolved into. He creeped into Charlie’s old room that he had let you have. He was bored out of his mind, having read every book and comic in his room, so he was hoping that Charlie’s would have left some interesting books to read. Something about dragons, maybe, or really anything besides a silly romance novel.

George tried his best to be silent, but as he tiptoed around your room, the floorboards creaked. George cursed under his breath and looked over to you. Sure enough, you were stirring.

“Sorry, I’ll be gone in a second. ‘M looking for a book.” He whispered, hoping that you would go back to sleep and that would be the end of the conversation.

You sat up, bleary eyed. “Fred?” You had always been the best at telling the twins apart but between the darkness in the room and the desperation to see your fiancée again, you mistook George for Fred.

George didn’t say anything. His heart broke for you. He knew he should say that no, it was him, but he just couldn’t bring himself to do so.

“Am I dreaming? Do you need to tell me something, is that why you’re in my dreams?” Your words dripped with hope and desperation.

George hesitated before affirming, “Ye-yes. That’s right.” He felt extremely awkward but you sounded so excited to be able to communicate with Fred again that he couldn’t bring himself to let you down.

“I missed you.” Tears ran down your face. “Only a few more weeks and then our babies will be born. The doctor said it’s a boy and a girl. I would have named the boy after you but I know George and Angelina want that to be their first son so I’m letting them have it. He’s really torn up, you should visit him too."

“I, um, yeah, I’ll talk to him.” It felt strange talking about himself like that. It was heartwarming, though, that even in this moment, you were thinking about him.

“Good. Just so you know, I remember what you said in our sixth year about not wanting me to move on if anything ever happened to you. And I’m not gonna.”

“That was just a joke, you don’t have to do that. I want you to be happy.” George tried to answer the way that Fred would.

“I would have only been happy with you. I love you. I wish you hadn’t left me to go help Harry and them. I know it’s selfish but I don’t care.” You shook as you sobbed. George walked over to your bedside and put his hand on your back.

“I had to do what I had to do. They needed me there.” George found himself getting choked up on his own words. He felt the same way as you, he wished Fred had never come down to Hogwarts that day.

“I know you would say that. What did you want to come here to tell me?”

“Just that I love you. And you’re gonna be a great mom.”

“Oh, Freddie. I know you wanted a big family and now we’ll never have that. She leaned her head onto George’s chest. “Every day is so hard” You admitted.

“I know, I know.”

“Come to bed with me.” You reached for George’s hand.

“To like, have sex?” George looked around the room frantically, not meeting his eyes with yours. Fred would have certainly jumped at the chance if he was there, but he was not Fred. George wanted you to be given peace but he could most definitely not go that far. Fred would probably find a way to strangle him from the afterlife and Angelina would cut his dick off.

“If you want,” you giggled “Or we could cuddle. Then you can feel my belly. It’s huge now, way bigger than when you last saw me. Hopefully you still think I’m pretty.”

“Of course you’re pretty. Here I-scoot over.” You made room for him.

He laid down and placed his hands over your baby bump. “They’re already kicking!” He said, in genuine surprise.

“Yeah, body movements during the day lull them to sleep. At night is when they’re most active. It’s a pain in the ass, really. But I’m just glad they’re healthy.”

George nodded. He looked at the ceiling, waiting for you to go to sleep. Then he could finally go back to his room.

Unfortunately, you were full of questions and affection. You wanted to get Fred up the speed with what had been going on with the people close to him. You babbled on and on about how tore up everyone was. How Charlie couldn't bring himself to leave the country again and slept on the couch every night, how Ginny slept with an old flannel of Fred's every night now, how Percy felt utterly responsible for his death and tried everything he could do to redeem himself, putting out new flowers at his grave each day and going to every single doctor's appointment with you (and read every pregnancy book under the sun, making it his mission to give you all the unsolicited advice he could think off, which annoyed you to no end). It took about an hour before you finally fell asleep, and as soon as you did, George gently removed his hands from you and got up out of the bed, before scurrying back to his room. He slammed the door behind him and faced his sleeping girlfriend.

“Angelina, you will NOT believe what just happened.”

***

At sunrise the next morning, George made another rare appearance. Molly was so excited to see him, even though he hadn’t showered for days and looked ragged. She ran over to give him a hug, which he gingerly accepted. He explained he wasn’t up to make small talk, he was going outside to visit the makeshift grave that their family had made for Fred. He wasn’t actually buried there, but the whole family felt better having the symbol of him at the Burrow and hoped that his spirit had followed. Molly was disappointed that her son didn’t want to stay up with her and talk, but she understood he was in pain and let him go.

Upon reaching Fred’s grave, George laughed nervously.

“So…” George began. He felt silly, what if Fred’s spirit couldn’t hear him? What if he was talking to nothingness. “I almost hit your baby mama last night.” He tried to make a lighthearted joke. A light drizzle started almost simultaneously with his words. He didn’t think that it was supposed to rain today.

George laughed, taking the rain as a response from Fred. “I’m sorry, mate. Just trying to make a joke. You know I wouldn’t.”

“She really misses you. Hell, we all miss you. I wish you had become a ghost instead of moving into the afterlife. But it’s okay. Although if you still change your mind and do that, go right ahead.” George’s voice cracked and a tear ran down his cheek. “Please.”

#fred weasley #fred weasly x reader #george weasley #angelina johnson #george x angelina #harry potter #harry potter fic #hp

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curiosity-killed · 3 years

Note

Hi....If you don't mind me asking, who are your favorite MXTX characters (top 5 from each novel)? And why? I'm sorry if you've answered this question before.

Aw of course I don’t mind! Though I feel like my answer is going to be a disaster bc I love these casts so so much aha let’s see:

✨ SPOILERS AHEAD ✨

MDZS/CQL

1. Wei Wuxian

Ah so I feel like this is obvious based on the sheer quantity of things I produce and the effort I put into hurting him 😅 but yeah! I love how much of a classical tragic hero he is and I love how much love he has and how that gets twisted around and shaped into a collar of spikes around his own neck. I saw gif sets of wwx before I ever knew about CQL and my reaction was “fuck. I’m going to love him” and I do! And I love that he does learn from his past and I love most of all that he learns to accept the love he is given and is able to make a happy ending in a place of being loved and held in respect and appreciation

2. Wen Qing

On the other hand, I did not expect to be like “mine now” with Wen Qing. Don’t get me wrong, the sexy immortal look got me but it wasn’t really till I started writing fic that I was like ohhhhh Oh Boy. Wen Qing is brilliant and ruthless, fiercely loving and aloof and cold. I love that she gets the lose-lose challenge of balancing what is right for her family vs what is right in the world, what she owes to her sect and what she owes to individuals. The golden core transfer is my favorite dubious science experiment in p much all media I’ve consumed. She gets to be so human—prickly and tough and also achingly gentle and afraid and putting on a tough face and sometimes still crying. “I’m sorry and thank you” ! Im!!

3. Jiang Yanli

The first fic I wrote for this fandom was literally “Jiang Yanli died no she didn’t” lmao I do feel like I underserve Jiang Yanli in that I often fall prey to using her to further the complexity that the male characters are permitted while denying her the chance to be given the same space for development and breath — something to work on! But in that, I really genuinely love how tightly she binds herself to her family and how she tries so hard to be what others need her to be—and then she does make a choice for herself and for a single moment at least, she gets to be loved and to be happy and to have this, a husband and a son and a place, for herself. And terribly I love how much she permeates the story still after death. She is the unspoken voice, the face turned from the camera but always still present, carried in the hearts and names and memories of the ones left behind

She deserved better but—I am weak for the tragedy of it all

4. Jiang Cheng

Another surprise (tho hardly surprising in hindsight): Jiang Cheng is just...horribly understandable. He makes terrible choices and his greatest heroism is undone by a choice made for him or, in the case of “killing the Yiling Laozu” is a lie. He is such a youngest sibling who doesn’t want to be the youngest until all at once, he’s the one in charge and he doesn’t want it at all. He is full of anger and hurt and so much love he doesn’t know what to do with it, doesn’t want it anymore, has no place to put all of its terrible, overwhelming flood.

5. Lan Wangji

I almost didn’t put Lan Wangji or Jiang Cheng on here and then I realized that this is sort of a list of characters I’m pickiest about in fic and...yeah. I think what I love best about Lan Wangji is his journey of grief and healing and through that, his decision to step into world. Where Wei Wuxian’s decision to travel and be removed from the cultivation world (in varying degrees depending on your headcanon preference lol) is really, really important to me, Lan Wangji’s decision to go from being an isolated lone agent working apart from the systems of the world to being involved and invested in changing those systems and working to make them better is also really important to me. I’ve talked before about how relatable Lan Wangji is to me (esp with regards to our interaction with the outer world) and there is something deeply hopeful and comforting about post-timeskip Lan Wangji being in his like mid-/late-30s and still making decisions and growing and changing and choosing to invest himself in the world and the future

yeah. i have thoughts here that I don’t really have the maturity, life experience, or articulation to put into words but Lan Zhan Good basically

TGCF

1. Xie Lian

suuuurpriiiiise!! Yeah honestly mxtx’s mains in TGCF and MDZS really just hit all my buttons basically. What appeals to me most of all about Xie Lian is, fittingly, how he is humanity taken to extremes. His capacity for incredible kindness and compassion is equaled with his capacity for cruelness and ruthlessness. His heaven-shaking highs are matched with calamitous lows. He is the hyperbolic of what it is to be human—and he is also the small moments, the wildflowers and the maple leaves and the mundane chores and the comfort of whispered conversations late into the night. I could quite literally go on for pages about what I love about Xie Lian but I am not Hua Cheng and can restrain myself LMAO

2. Hua Cheng

of all the characters on these lists, Hua Cheng is the one I’m pickiest about tbh! When I say I love him for similar reasons as Xie Lian I don’t actually mean this as being similarities between the two but the fact that both of them so richly convey mxtx’s points about the nature of humanity and what it is to be human. Hua Cheng is both the boldest and most arrogant of all and also the most vulnerable, the one who shies away from the truth because he’s braced for it to hurt and isn’t sure he can take it. He is gory blood rain and an umbrella to shelter a fragile bloom; he is a blade whose wounds only heal if he permits it and he is a sacrifice that he brushes aside as a fit of madness. *pats his head* this boy can fit SO MUCH inside him that he refuses to acknowledge

3. Jun Wu

Definitely my favorite antagonist in recent reading. I was doubtful of him from the start (something something issues with authority something something probably should talk to my theoretical future therapist shhh) but the unfolding of his reveal was so delightfully painful and exquisite that I was like “YES!!!” reading all of it. About the epitome of a satisfying plot twist imo. But about the character himself, I love how he parallels so many — Xie Lian in his rise and fall, his glory and disgrace; Hua Cheng in his fixation and ruthlessness; He Xuan in losing himself to the plot and not knowing how to move forward. I love that he feels beyond human in a way the others don’t—he’s so old and has gone through so much and he doesn’t feel things the way humans do anymore, doesn’t remember right how love squeezes the heart or how hate can exist without acting on it. I love that he thinks he knows how to control everyone and that it’s such mundane things that fool him: Xie Lian’s absurd stubbornness, Hua Cheng’s foolish faith, Yin Yu’s...emotional maturity??? Not Sure how to verbalize that one. But in the end, he is defeated by both the humanity of others and by his own—he’s so tired. He’s exhausted in a way that gods and ghosts aren’t meant to be. He is, under the armor and the masks, the curses and the power, human—benevolent and cruel, evil and good.

4. He Xuan

I love my fish man! No but really I love how He Xuan is so fixed on his one goal that he refuses to acknowledge anything else in his (after)life—which doesn’t make it go away. I love that he is left unmoored, purposeless through the very act of completing that which gives him purpose. I love his long con and the ways he clings to himself but loses himself not in the act but in the telling himself it’s an act. I love that he tries to be a moral man and then becomes a ghost king, a calamity. His reveal is also terribly badass and I do love his bone fish wholly unironically. Like I’m not going to get a He Xuan tattoo (for one thing I’ve been meaning to get a tattoo for 5 years and still haven’t gotten around to it) but also. B o n e f i s h

5. Mu Qing

Of course! The Jiang Cheng of tgcf lol Mu Qing (which my phone desperately wants to autocorrect to my Qing) is so...gah he’s such a mess! And he so fully commits to the belief that no one will ever see and understand him as he is but will always view them through their own convictions about him and his actions — which is simultaneously heartbreakingly lonely and also. Sir You Are a Clown. I genuinely think he’s owed apologies from both Feng Xin and Xie Lian for their treatment and assumptions of him and think that he would be HORRIBLY offended at the thought (while secretly touched? But like secretly even to himself). He will never explain himself and will just clam up tighter the more people accuse him and it’s such a self-sabotaging behavior and also so horribly relatable. I love u sir, you’re a disaster

SVSS I have not read but I do really like the moshang art 😂

#long post #asked & answered #lol sorry this is so long and incoherent #the truth is that I really love these stories and their casts #and I think it’s v hard to extricate the characters from the cast #because they are so deftly and beautifully interwoven #but here are the characters I think are my favorites lol #loosely in order #tgcf spoilers #also this is why I prefer tgcf to mdzs tbh?#jgy is intellectually interesting to me and a good antagonist #but not personally compelling in the way jw is

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itmighthavebeenintentional · 4 years

Text

Walk Me Home

Summary: Twenty-four years ago, Kimberly Harper met a boy who changed the course of her entire life before up and leaving one night. She spent years moving past the memories, building a stable, satisfying career as professor of folklore and mythology at the local university. Then the accidents start, and she’s forced to seek help among her hunter contacts. All it takes is a knock on her office door to send Kimber’s carefully built emotional walls crumbling to the ground.

Featuring: Teen Winchesters, high school romance, reunions, misunderstandings, high intensity emotional turmoil, Dean’s love of pie, Dean being adorable, Sam being adorable and maybe a bit nosy eventually, much group adorkable-ness, show-style investigation, mention of our favorite werewolf, gratuitous love of fall, DID I MENTION ROMANCE, fluff, smut, tension.

Warnings: Show level violence, show level parental neglect (let’s not John bash, I’m just saying), show-style witchcraft, show-level mental manipulation, stalking, bit of angst, sexual content (higher than show level),swearing, general yearning

Word Count: 3229

Author’s Note: Here we go, fam! New story, new adventures, new thrills and chills and feels! Who’s excited?!? This story was inspired by P!nk’s song “Walk Me Home”, which you should totes listen to (and watch the video, it’s so COOL) if you haven’t. This was a birthday present for @thoughtslikeaminefield , though I will admit it was a few...well, either days or years late, depending on how you look at it. I hope y’all enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! SHE ALSO MADE THE IMAGE!! HOW GORGEOUS?!?!

Mega thanks to @mskathywriteswords , @fangirlxwritesx67, and @cracksinthewalls for editing, revision, flailing, and generally knocking sense into me when I’m being stubborn. You all made this story way better than it started it, and I love you.

Keep in Mind: There are a lot of flashbacks. I tried to write current events in present tense and flashbacks in past tense. Here’s hoping I got everything right!

Please read/heed the warnings. 18+ ONLY.

ItMightHaveBeenIntentional’s Masterlist

Chapter 1

A firm tap on the door of her office makes Kimberly’s head snap up. She blinks, her eyes unable to focus quickly after looking up from her computer screen. She remembers she’s wearing her reading glasses, and slips them off her nose, letting them dangle from the chain around her neck.

“Dr. Harper? Could I take a few minutes of your time?”

“Yes, I…” Her eyes finally focus on her visitor, and the room is suddenly devoid of oxygen. “Dean? Is it...really?”

“Kimber?”

The astonished man framed in the doorway is a far cry from the brash, charming boy she met in a different life, but she’d know him anywhere. Time has been more than kind to Dean Winchester, and Kimberly has to admit some things really do get better with age.

Which is saying a lot, considering.

“God, no one’s called me that since high school.” She stands and takes a couple of measured steps around her desk. Seeing him unexpectedly like this after so much time leaves her physically and emotionally off-balance, but the smile she offers him is genuine. “You’re a helluva sight for sore eyes. It’s been a while.”

Dean recovers from his shock quickly, crossing the small room in a few quick strides, and sweeps her into a hug. She’s engulfed in his presence, not just his physical stature (she does not remember him being this tall or broad or...solid) but also the scent and feel that is absolutely Dean. She feels a shock of vertigo as memories and emotions she’d long laid to rest all vie for immediate attention.

It hits them simultaneously that they’ve embraced for a few moments longer than necessary, and they disentangle with sheepish smiles.

“What are...no, I’m sorry, I’m being rude. Have a seat!” A lop-sided smile pulls at Dean’s lips, and suddenly she’s seventeen again, trying desperately to keep her cool as she finally gets to talk to the handsome, mysterious new kid. Warmth floods every cell of her body, and she comes dangerously close to giggling.

“Coffee?” she offers, forgetting most of her hard-earned vocabulary in the face of her teenage dream.

“Always.”

...

The last time she’d seen Dean Winchester, his father was burning holes in his elder son’s back from the driver’s seat of his precious Impala. He glowered at Dean and Kimber, impatiently drumming his fingers on the steering wheel as the teenagers stumbled through their good-byes. Dean’s younger brother sat, slump-shouldered and defeated in the back seat, resigned to yet another relocation.

“Don’t forget my number,” Kimberly murmured, her palms sliding over his jaw, fingers threading into his close-cropped hair, and they both knew she meant, “Don’t forget me.”

“I couldn’t if I tried, sweetheart,” he whispered, his voice breaking on the last word. He cleared his throat, trying to turn away before she could see any weakness.

“Don’t,” she said, holding his face firmly. “If this is all I get of you, don’t even take that much from me.”

Five blissful weeks they’d had before Dean’s father concluded his mysterious business in the area. Five weeks since she’d begun tutoring Dean in AP American History; an absolute sham, she had realized exactly five minutes into their first session. Dean may not have been caught up on the exact dates and details of what they were covering in class, but once he set eyes on the material, even she had a hard time keeping pace with his reasoning.

“Just wanted to talk to you alone,” he’d admitted that afternoon, his olive eyes sparkling. He flashed her what had to be an award-winning half-grin, showing a glimpse of perfect, dazzling white teeth and the merest touch of uncertain vulnerability.

“Does that usually work on girls?” she asked, genuinely curious. He had to practice that expression in the mirror; it was too perfect to be natural. His face lit up as his smile spread, his cheeks gaining the faintest hint of pink. In that one moment, Kimber realized she’d lived her entire life under an overcast sky, and now the clouds had parted. His smile was the sun on her face for the first time, dazzling and vital, and she soaked it in with dizzy abandon.

“Why, is it working on you?”

“Yeah, it, um, it really is.”

They spent the next month or so getting to know each other as only kids can, when everything is new, the absolute pinnacle of priority and passion. They studied each other as fervently as they should have studied for midterms. Explaining how the Age of Enlightenment influenced the American Revolution was a complete waste of time next to finding out that the beautiful, smooth-talking, tough-as-nails Dean Winchester was actually ticklish.

Dean told her the most amazing stories, which she only learned were true after he and his family disappeared. She caught him up in history enough for the teacher to get off his back, and in return he showed her how to get rid of unwanted physical attention with minimal risk on her part.

Dean wasn’t her first kiss, but he wiped the memory of every other fumbling embrace from her mind with a searing permanence. Some nights they snuck out to the treehouse in her backyard, and some nights she snuck him into her room. He would never take her out to any of the famous local make-out spots, though; he said they were too dangerous and just begging for trouble.

She knew better than to argue with him when he got “that look” on his face, spoke to her in “that tone.” It took many years and some hard experiences of her own, but she did eventually learn that he’d been protecting her from so much more than she ever could have understood at that point in her life.

She found herself in awe of the sheer amount of wisdom contained in such a carefree, often goofy package. That they were chronologically the same age, almost to the month, was irrelevant; Dean Winchester had lived far beyond his years, and it showed.

And then one night, he’d arrived on her doorstep in the middle of dinner, asked if she could come outside for a minute. When he told her he was leaving, she knew he wasn’t joking. He’d warned her it would happen this way, that he had no idea how long they’d be in town, but she’d always imagined that future as some vague, misty destination, like “graduation” or “college.” Definitely going to happen, but not anytime soon, so might as well relax and enjoy things while you could.

“I…” But she couldn’t say it, not yet. She wanted to, had read so many novels and seen all the movies. It was the thing to say, and half her friends had already proclaimed their hearts belonging to various celebrities and hot guys around school. But staring into Dean’s eyes, so much older than they should be, she knew better than to throw that word out so lightly, carelessly.

“Yeah,” he sighed. His eyelids dropped, shoulders heaved once, and when he met her gaze again, that smooth front of cool confidence had slid back in place. “I know, sweetheart. Me, too.”

He kissed her then, despite his father’s glowering, despite her parents’ astonished looks from between the living room curtains. His hands were tight on her waist, and she raised up on her toes, pulling his face just a little closer.

They pulled apart after a long moment, eyes locked, and she kissed him one last time, chastely, savoring the plush of his velvet-soft lips against hers.

Then she let him go, and he went. There was nothing else they could do.

She hugged herself against the chill autumn night, ignoring the first dashes of icy rain that stung her bare arms as she watched the black Impala turn a corner and disappear.

She didn’t see him again for nearly two and a half decades. When he knocked on her office door, asking for Dr. Harper, the years melted away. She felt the sting of the rain, the chill of the night he’d left, and for a long moment, all she could do was stare.

…

“How did you find me?” he asks. His fingers slip around the coffee mug she offers him, and she has to make a physical effort to keep her thoughts focused on the task at hand. Everything about Dean has aged so gracefully. She would be envious if she weren’t also granted the absolute gift of drinking in the sight of him.

“I didn’t,” she says, “not exactly. I’ve been teaching mythology, folklore, and urban legends at the university for a long time now. You got me started on that, back in the day.” She offers him a small smile, hoping he understands she remembers all the stories he told her.

The grin he offers in return melts something in her chest that’s been rigid and frozen, deliberately separated from the rest of her emotions for most of her adult life, and she can’t breathe for a second.

“After you left town, I started digging a little. I looked into some of those stories you told me, some of the places you’d mentioned, and then some of the weird stuff that had been happening in the towns where you said your dad was working. I’m sure you know what I found,” she says, eyebrows raised.

Dean’s lips purse as he considers her words. He opens his mouth, brows creased, but then he seems to change his mind. He takes a long drink of coffee, and when he lowers the mug his expression is once again neutral.

“Well, I stayed interested. Made a career out of it, somehow. And then people started coming to me, asking for help finding bits of information here, some lore or ancient knowledge there. Some were hunters, some scholars, but it kind of became my thing. I’d hear stories about you and your brother occasionally, Mr. FBI’s Most Wanted,” she adds, and he chokes a little on his swallow of coffee.

“Why didn’t you ever reach out?” He brushes stray droplets of coffee from his chin absently, and her eyes laser in on a particularly enticing drop on the corner of his mouth. His tongue flicks out, catching it before it falls, and her breath hitches.

“To be honest, I was too nervous,” she admits as he sets his mug on the coaster in front of him. For the first time in many years, old feelings of abandonment, inadequacy, rear their nasty little heads. She has to work to keep her tone even.

“It’s been how long? I figured you’d forgotten all about me; I thought maybe I was just another conquest to you-”

“You were never a conquest to me, Kimber. You know that.” His jaw works in agitation as he frowns. Hurt and something else - guilt, maybe? - cross his face before his expression smooths out, replaced by a blank mask. “You should have known that.”

Doubt cartwheels through Kimber's mind, sending her thoughts reeling. Twenty-four years of thinking Dean Winchester had forgotten her are suddenly put into a new, alien perspective. She scrambles internally to regain her bearings, stunned in a way that only comes from a solid blow to one’s core beliefs.

Despite her parting plea, he’d never called her, not once in all the years after, and she’d convinced herself she was just the girl of the month. She’d been angry for a long time, well into college, but bit by bit, she forced herself to shut away her feelings, ball them up into a tiny hollow in her chest where she could at least ignore them, and moved on.

Apparently, somehow, she’d been mistaken.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn't have said that.”

He nods stiffly, sitting back in his chair a little, putting a touch more distance between them. He raises his hand for her to continue, his gesture abrupt, and she shrivels inside. She sees she’s offended him, but if she’s in the wrong, then why did he never call?

“Dean, look, I shouldn’t have said conquest. That was insensitive of me, but from my perspective, what was I supposed to think? You say you won’t forget me, then you vanish into the night? What happened? Not even a single call to let me know you made it to your next stop alive?”

There’s another flash of pain, chased quickly from his eyes by what she’s pretty sure now is guilt. Exhaustion finally settles in, and he suddenly shows every one of the twenty-four years since he last saw her.

“Look, we’ve got a more immediate problem here, if the little bit Garth told me is true. Let’s…” he sighs, scrubbing his face tiredly with his hands. He steeples his fingers in front of his lips, coming to some sort of decision.

“We can sit down and talk Memory Lane over some pie and coffee, but let’s get through this first. Now tell me what’s going on.”

As much as she wants to argue, force him to tell her exactly why he never reached out, she can tell he isn’t going to budge.

“I...so...I wasn’t looking for you specifically,” she stumbles, “but I reached out to a former student of mine, Garth Fitzgerald, who I knew had been a hunter at one point and still had contacts. He said he would send someone my way, and then…”

“And then I showed up,” he finishes. His tone is efficient, economical, and all business. “Garth didn’t tell me much except his old professor was having some supernatural stalking issues. Gotta say,” he adds, and she is relieved to her bones to see the tiniest of crinkles by his eyes, “Sure didn’t picture you when Garth said ‘old professor.’ Figured I’d get Indiana Jones or his dad, maybe, but not...yeah.”

His attempt to add a little humor makes the wash of guilt and confusion in Kimber’s stomach even more uncomfortable.

She fills him in on the details, odd accidents happening to the people she’s closest with at work, strange noises around her house at night, the ever increasing sense she’s being watched.

“You talk to the police?” he asks.

She nods, letting her sour expression do most of the talking for her. “Went as well as it usually does. They didn’t even talk to my neighbors to see if anyone had seen anything. I had to do that.”

“Still, though. Doesn’t sound too supernatural to me,” he finally says, eyebrows furrowed. He isn’t dismissive, though; he stares hard at his coffee mug as he considers her story.

“Well, I guess you could explain away Helen’s fall down the stairs as a horrible but mundane accident. She could have tripped, but the people near her said she looked like she was pushed. Except no one was near enough to have done it.”

Now that she's getting over the shock of finding him on her doorstep, she remembers why he's there in the first place, and reality rushes back in. Kimber’s composure falters, but she does her level best to keep her voice steady.

“But Professor Lawrence was by himself in his office when his skin just started...boiling, not burning. I don’t care what the police report says. And Allen Simpson didn’t actually want to staple his hand to his dissertation, I promise you. He had just talked with me about one of his sources over coffee an hour before...before…”

Her throat closes as the whole nasty scene flashes before her eyes. She’d found him in the grad student workroom after following the sounds of his anguished howls, and there was just so much blood. She’d heard stories from the hunters she’d worked with, read her own share of horrific incidents, but to see it first hand…

“And sometimes, when I walk home at night, there’s...I’ve never seen anything, but I hear footsteps. Always behind me, and there’s no one there, but I know there isn’t anywhere for them to hide, whoever they are. I can feel them just...watching me. Even at home, a couple of times, when I should be absolutely alone, all my blinds and drapes closed. Once when I was making dinner, and once when I was...showering, and...Dean, it’s...I don’t understand.”

She takes in a stuttering breath and dashes at her eyes with the back of her wrist. Her hand drops limply to the desk as she stares at the glossy surface, finally allowing herself to feel the full depth of her fears.

“I’ve researched, tried to figure it out on my own. It shows all the classic signs of witches, but there’s been no evidence of a coven in town before now. I suppose a new one could have moved in, but I haven’t found any evidence so far. No one suspicious hanging around that I’ve noticed.”

Breathe, she reminds herself sharply.

“I checked back through as much of my notes as I could find on the hunters I’ve helped with witch cases. I checked in with anyone who had an open case or hadn’t called me back to let me know how their hunts went. Nobody had anything helpful to tell me.”

Silence stretches between them, both waiting for the other to say something, anything. Kimber cracks first.

“Dean, I’m no hunter. I’ve worked it as much as I can from the research end, and I just...I need help. Please.”

Dean’s hand settles atop hers, its warm weight an echo of familiarity, and she swallows hard against the rising bile in her throat. She meets his eyes, and his gaze is malachite.

“We’re gonna figure this out. I know you. You say this sucker’s a witch, I say bring me that bucket of water, Dorothy. We’ll get this fucker, I promise.”

That secret spot in her chest brightens, warms by another degree or two, and she nods her gratitude. “Thank you. So much. Now...it’s been a long day, and I’m kind of beat. Could I invite you over for dinner without it being too weird?”

He squeezes her hand before releasing it with a roll of his eyes. “I can behave myself, if that’s what you’re getting at. I’m not feral, Kimber.”

“You’re not exactly tame, either,” she says, softening the words with a half-smile as she stands. She swings her jacket on, and he mirrors her actions. She shuts down her computer while he waits in the hall, looking up and down the corridor.

“I’ll need to do a full sweep of your office and check the scenes of the accidents,” he says as she pulls the door shut behind them and locks it. “Who all has keys to the professors’ offices?”

“Just the cleaning staff and the department secretary, and the professors themselves,” she says. “I can’t think of anyone else who would.”

He nods, pursing his lips. Suddenly, a smile lights his entire face and he sweeps into a ridiculous bow before popping up and offering her his arm. The years dissolve in an instant, and he’s that seventeen-year-old boy again, still too old for his age but trying so desperately to hang on to that carefree spirit, holding his elbow in her direction after slinging her backpack over his shoulder.

“Walk you home, milady?”

“I would be honored, good sir.” ...

Chapter 2

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woodsiessilverduckies · 4 years

Text

My view on Jumin Han and the MASSIVE effect his route had on me

Look it’s late I should be asleep let me rant about this legend, also I’m sorry this turned out to be an essay but honestly what I wrote is really important to me

He might just be my favourite fiction character ever because I relate to him so hard

From what I’ve played so far-

((I haven’t finished every route of every character, in fact I only played 1 Jumin route and I got a bad ending around day 9. Why don’t I play more if I claim to love him so much? SCHOOL))

-his route really managed to capture a lot of what I’ve been through, on a really personal level.

I think I started to realise we were in similar shoes when he talked about his father and his relationships (my dad has literally been with more girls then I can count)

Also my dad isn’t a good person, I’ll come out and say he’s an asshole to everyone. But that doesn’t mean I don’t like, that I don’t have fun with him sometimes and that I don’t enjoy being around him

I’ve read a lot of fan fiction, experience a lot of people’s ocs, seen a lot of media where terrible parents are made out to be absolute evils. But Jumin’s route was the first thing I’ve seen to make me go “...Finally. Someone finally understands.”

Another thing Mystic Messenger managed to represent wasn’t a hate Jumin harboured towards his father, or some type of warped love either. Just pure indifference when it came to the aspects of his father he disliked.

I can not emphasis enough how true this is!! I can’t count on both hands the times my dad’s picked me up from school with a girl I don’t know in the car, or when I walk into a room I don’t know with a woman in it I’ve never met.

I’m never confused, angry or disappointed when this happens; just indifferent. Try and be polite but also make sure not to get attached at all (both of which I do without even realising). Just pure indifference. Like how he was on his phone during dinner.

This was my second “Finally someone represents it right.” Moment.

From then on I was already attached.

Something I noticed about Jumin (though I may be reading too into things) is that he always has so much pressure on his shoulders. But, I don’t think that pressure is from his father, he seems pretty chill about Jumin’s whole “heir to the company” situation.

That pressure may have stemmed from his responsibilities, but Jumin put it all on himself.

I understand this so much. Both my parents have rather good jobs (or had... in the very least they had amazing education) and I’ve always been a smart child praised by them

But my mum puts no pressure on me at all. Well she does but only the normal amount. And my father the same, pretty much. Yet I still have to be at the top of the top class, the smartest of the smart, I’m always more disappointed in myself then they are in me.

I definitely feel like this is something Jumin struggles with.

Along with that pressure, he’ll never let anyone see him break. I’ve talked about my family life more in this post then I have to anyone irl. Why? Because I’m the smart, happy girl. The perfect student, perfect daughter, perfect friend, honestly I think I’m the empitomu of normal if I don’t consider my family life.

Jumin is like that too to an extent. He’s never going to let someone else see him break (unless they’re me of course, but we don’t all have mc’s in our lives lol). It really hits deep, ya know?

At this point I was beyond loving his character. Because Jumin was just incredible, beyond that even. A real representation of what I’ve been through, I’m genuinely in love with him.

Also, there are things we have in common on a basic level too; a love to an extent it’s practically religion for cats, casually formal and proper, and honestly I thought he was funny! Like seriously guys his jokes weren’t actually bad they made me laugh a lot!

It reached a point where I was so into Jumin’s route that every visual novel scene I would find my cat and cuddle with her while playing (funnily enough she’d a black ragdol so she looks a lot like what I imagine Jumin would look like if he was a cat).

So then, I vividly remember reaching a scene where Jumin starts talking to Elizabeth the third. He knew it was unhealthy that he trusted a cat more than any human being, and that the Elizabeth the third doesn’t actually understand what he’s saying, he’s just deluded himself into thinking that.

So this makes me look down at the cat in my arms, the cat who shared my bed most nights for the past eight years, the cat that’s seen my cry more then twice as much as any real human being, the cat who I’ve always spilled my heart out to and imagined as my best, most understanding friend.

//FUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUCK//

I got the bad ending on purpose because I’d heard about the bad endings for Jumin and I was done being serious I just wanted some time to laugh and something to remind me that Jumin Han is not Jesus himself despite bringing me the realisation of a lifetime

Obviously I don’t relate to Jumin exactly, I’m not the son of a corporate legend and I’m sure Jumin’s never had to worry about his families financial status, and I bet he doesn’t have any of the problems I do with my health

Still crazy in love with Jumin though and this is how I am a Jumin Stan to death without being a kinky queen

I genuinely see him as a very wholesome and loving character because, well, because I see him as myself. I think he’d be so kind and gentle to MC because unlike anything else he owns, he can’t just buy a new one if she breaks, his money can’t solve any issues with her, and that’s what I think he needs

To summarise I need recommendations for wholesome Jumin fanfics or literally any Jumin fanfic lemon without all the kinky stuff please it’s surprisingly hard to find

#jumin han #mystic messenger #mysmes #jumin route #mysme jumin #opinion #headcannonsiguess #mystic messenger jumin fanfic

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mybukz · 4 years

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Work-in-progress: The Singaporean Candidate by Begau Salleh

Image by Joshua Ang at Unsplash

Excerpt from Begau Salleh’s work-in-progress political novel ‘The Singaporean Candidate’.

Aadam has a dream; to be the first Malay Prime Minister of Singapore. Pretty tricky considering Singapore's Chinese racial majority.

There is a way. Singapore’s ruling political party is running a training programme for Singapore’s future leaders. From the trainees, the Father of Singapore himself will pick out and groom the next Prime Minister. All Aadam has to do is prove he is the very best, better even than the esteemed patriarch’s own grandsons.

But Malaysia is in a cold war with Singapore due to a land dispute. Public sentiment is against Aadam because of his ethnicity. Aadam will soon find himself caught in a greater plot, with the future of both nations hanging in the balance.

The next morning we were on the front page of the papers, right next to the headline “PM SLAMS MALAYSIA’S UNSCHEDULED WATER RATIONING”. The five Prime Minister candidates even got a special column.

Back in our cramped HDB flat, mak was smiling from ear-to-ear while reading the papers at the dining table. I wasn’t. I was muttering to myself while straightening out my hair in the mirror nearby.

Mak sighed, put down the papers. “Why the sour face?”

I straightened my tie and picked up a curry puff from the table. “They hardly mentioned me, mak. The three Ngs got so much more coverage. Even Benjamin, even Grace got more coverage than me!” I said, my mouth full of curry puff.

Admittedly, I didn’t have the clout of the three grandsons. My family history wasn’t as interesting as Benjamin’s. But how did Grace get more coverage than me when she wasn’t even aiming to be PM!

Mak flipped the papers open. She whistled and gave me a mischievous grin. “You know, this young woman is quite impressive. Not as astounding as my son, but very impressive. I think she’d make a wonderful wife for a tall, dark and handsome young man.”

A tall, dark and handsome young man like me.

I sighed. In high school, Singaporean parents forbid their kids from seeing girls, much less date. As soon as we leave college, parents do a 180 and play matchmaker themselves.

“Benjamin fits that description too, you know?” I replied dryly.

“Then you’d better make sure you strike first,” mak winked.

I rolled my eyes and gave mak a peck on her forehead. “I have to go now. Have a good day at work, mak.”

Mak wished me the best of luck. With today’s simple task, I wouldn’t need it. I took my coat, ruffled the head of my cat and told it “Behave yourself,” as I walked out.

# Appear, meet children, smile for the camera, leave. That was the schedule for the candidates today. Public relations at its finest. All I had to do was give my most genuine-looking smile and say nice things to kids. Everyone here knew how to do that, surely.

While the candidates sat in the hall waiting for the kids, the director gave us a short briefing on what to expect. The parents would be accompanying the kids, along with a lot of support staff trained in handling children. She emphasized that we would not be responsible for taking care of the kids once they arrived. Normally a few kids may get scared and cry, and that wouldn’t be our fault.

See? Easy-peasy.

Honestly, I needed a break after all the drama from the last PR event.

The Prime Minister arrived before the kids did. A slim man with greying hair, he was wearing a light blue dress shirt, tie and grey slacks. We gave him a standing ovation as he arrived, and he went straight to the podium.

“Welcome to the Candidates Leadership Programme. I’m here as a guest at the behest of the organisers. They’re hoping I can inspire all of you and explain the importance of this event.” He smiled. “Well, I’ll try my best. I’m told that a rather important question was conspicuously left out of all your interviews. You may have thought about it, or at least heard it before. Take a guess what that question was.”

A few hands came up.

“How can you serve your country?” ShuXuan guessed, pensive.

“How can you bring prosperity to Singapore?” Chulek said, smiling confidently.

“Why do you want to be Prime Minster, or a minister?” Benjamin suggested.

“Why are you the right man for the job?” I tried.

The PM smiled and put up his hands. “Those are all good questions. Oh dear. Maybe we should thought of those too.”

Everyone laughed.

The PM pointed to another raised hand and nodded.

HuaXuan put down his hand. “What is your vision for Singapore?”

PM Ng paused, frowned slightly. “Yes… that was the question. ‘What is your vision for Singapore?’ Now that I mention it, it sounds like an obvious question to ask, right? Why do you think it wasn’t asked, even though the organisers knew it was important?”

This time, he just waited a moment as if he was going to ask us to offer suggestions again. But he didn’t give us that chance. How unsporting, heh.

“Because we don’t want you to answer that question. Not yet. You’re still young and inexperienced, and your answer is going to sound like it came out of a National Day slogan contest. Right now, that’s all your answer will be; a slogan. We’re hoping that by the end of this training programme, it will be much more than that. And it begins here, by meeting Singapore’s future. We’ve asked each child to tell you what their dreams are. Let the dreams of Singapore’s future generation inform your vision of what Singapore should be.”

I swallowed down hard. Up until that point, I hadn’t been taking today’s event seriously. There may not be any exams or tests, but the PM had convinced me that this public relations exercise was worth my time. I had to make sure I listened to these children carefully.

The director exchanged words with the PM. He turned back to us. “The children are ready. I hope all of you are as well, because here they come!”

Parents and support staff escorted loud, crying, giggling and pouting kids of all ages into the hall. There had to be about a hundred children, compared to our 30 or so candidates. The hall couldn’t accommodate everyone, so a lot of them waited in line outside. To keep them occupied, support staff sang to them, a clown made animal balloons, and some had toys or books.

We had already been broken up into groups around the hall, according to which position we wanted. Each ministry group attended to the same group of children, one child at a time. My guess: the children were assigned to each ministry group based on how relevant their dreams were to that ministry. All the children had papers in their hands to read out what they had prepared beforehand. Most read from it, with a bit of encouragement from their parents.

I sat with the other PM candidates; that’s Benjamin, Chulek, ShuXuan and HuaXuan in case you forgot. We seemed to be getting slightly older children, other than one young Chinese boy. An Indian teenage girl in a wheelchair stood out to me. No doubt she wanted a more disabled-friendly Singapore.

“More jobs”, “Lower cost of living”, “Freedom of speech”… Did the children write these dreams themselves? We smiled knowingly at the embarrassed parents even as we clapped, smiled and cheered for each child and said sugary sweet things to each one. We promised we’d do our best to make ‘their’ dreams come through.

Then the little Chinese boy stomped forward to for his turn. He declared, “When I grow up, I want to be a millionaire. So I can buy a Ferrari. It must be red and very fast. No compromises.”

The five of us oh-ed and couldn’t help but giggle. At least that dream was genuinely his!

“Hey! Aren’t you supposed to say you’ll help me?’ the young boy asked, pouting and stamping his foot.

Sorry, kid. It’s not our job to make you a Crazy Rich Asian. I couldn’t quite think of how to handle him, honestly. He was just too cute! Like us, his embarrassed parents were trying their best to stifle their laugher from behind him.

“Oh, I think it’s a great ambition,” Chulek said, suppressing his chortling, “But I have to tell you, there’s no way it can be easy to be a millionaire. Not only do you have to work very hard, but you have to be better than everyone else. ”

“But you’re supposed to make it happen, right? Mum and dad said so!’ the boy insisted.

“Oh, did they?” Chulek said while eyeing the increasingly embarrassed parents who sheepishly apologised. Chulek nodded to the parents, then said to the child, “You’re not wrong. It’s our duty to create a Singapore that allows every Singaporean to reach their best potential. But you have to work hard to reach that potential too. If getting rich was so easy, then everyone would be a millionaire.”

The child pouted, sullen.

Chulek chuckled. “How about this. We’ll do our job by making sure Singapore continues to prosper. So when you grow up, you’ll get a fair chance at making it rich. Sounds good?”

The parents persuaded the poor boy with big dreams to agree, which he did with a little prodding. Looked like Chulek took this one. The camera was rolling, so I’m sure the public would have enjoyed watching him try to inspire the precious boy.

Next, the teen in the wheelchair. A single pony tail, spectacles, blouse and jeans, she’d look like a typical teenager if she wasn’t physically disabled. She looked a little shy, holding her still-folded paper in her hands. Her parents were smiling, but were shifting from foot to foot, looking around like we were going to swallow them whole.

“Hello dear, thank you for coming,” I said, trying to put them all at ease, “I’m Aadam. What is your name?”

The girl stayed silent until the parents patted her from behind. “Sahil,” she said.

Benjamin cut in before I could continue. “It’s nice to meet you Sahil. I’m Benjamin, and this is ShuXuan, HuaXuan, and Chulek. It’s okay if you don’t remember our names as we’re not anyone important yet.”

He winked and the teenage girl grinned ever so slightly.

Curse you, Benjamin! Using your good looks to charm teenagers!

“Why don’t you tell us what your dream is, Sahil,” ShuXuan said.

Sahil looked at her parents, and they nodded. Sahil said, “I want to be Prime Minister of Singapore.”

For a moment, the five of us were dumbfounded.

Benjamin recovered first. “Yes. …Yes? Yes! Why not. You can overcome anything. You can be the next Prime Minister of Singapore!”

The girl grinned, ecstatic, but the rest glared at Benjamin. Even the parents.

Benjamin glared back defiantly. “What?”

ShuXuan was frowning something fierce. “We have to be responsible for what dreams we pitch to the young. We shouldn’t encourage her to waste her future on a pipe dream like that.”

“We just got a young boy who wanted to be a millionaire. Please handle these children with a bit more finesse,” Chulek said.

Benjamin’s eyes narrowed at the two Ngs who had just spoken, then settled on the last one. “So. Is the last Ng going to tell me off as well? I shouldn’t tell this young woman to dream big?”

HuaXuan kept silent and refused to look at him.

Benjamin said to the girl, “Dear, don’t listen to them. Your disability is not relevant to the role of Prime Minister.”

“The last boy was one matter, but this is going too far. No one is going to accept her as the Prime Minister, and you know it. I’m not going to peddle lies to this girl in order to look good, unlike you,” ShuXuan said tersely.

Those words stung me to the core, but I hadn’t realised why yet.

HuaXuan winced. “Guys, focus. She’s still here.”

The poor girl teared up, clutching her paper in her hands into a crumpled heap. Her parents cringed, aghast. We were handling this terribly.

So the three Ngs started to talk to her gently. Letting her down, but gently. Squashing her unrealistic dreams, but gently.

Benjamin looked away in anger, had nothing to say. Honestly, I wasn’t totally convinced he believed she could be Prime Minister either. Otherwise he’d be using that opportunity to tell her that he believed in her, unlike the three Ngs.

I stayed silent the whole time. I wanted to say something, but everyone’s words rubbed me the wrong way.

“The Prime Minister is the representative of the country to the world. That’s why nobody with a disability has been chosen as a leader,” someone said. I was too livid to know who.

Shouldn’t they want the best person for the job? Nobody disputes that her disability isn’t relevant to the role!

“But there are so many other great and wonderful things you can be. Better than Prime Minister.”

What the hell is better than Prime Minister?

“For example, you could be a doctor who saves people’s lives.”  “A CEO of a huge company!”

Aren’t you listening? She wants to be Prime Minister!

At the end of it all, I didn’t add a word to the discussion and let the three Ngs say everything. Sahil seemed to have calmed down, anyway. The parents weren’t happy, but they weren’t complaining either. I guess they knew it would come to this, in the end.

All the parents and children gathered around for a group photo before going on their way. We made sure to shake all their hands and apologised for not doing a good job of inspiring their kids.

Our group finished first, so we sat around waiting for the other groups while the kids from our session slowly made their way out. That’s when HuaXuan asked me, “Why are you staring at us like that?”

The rest looked at me curiously, as if they just noticed something.

“I have no idea what sort of face I’m making,” I said, defensive.

“You’re angry,” Benjamin explained, “I’m not sure why. I have reason to be, but what are you mad about?”

I had some idea. “You three… we did that girl wrong.”

ShuXuan raised his hands in surrender. “Alright, wise guy. What would you have said in our place?”

“Maybe we should have just been quiet the whole time like you?” Chulek quipped before I could respond, “At least Benjamin here tried to say something. Even if what he was saying was wrong.”

I tried my best to answer back, but my mouth opened and closed like a fish.

HuaXuan sighed. “You’re right. We could have handled it better. But in the end, the result is the same. Just lead her onto another path. That’s good enough.”

No. That wasn’t good enough. It wasn’t just this girl’s dreams everyone was taking a shit on. It was mine. I’m not sure what came over me. I got out of my chair and ran out, shouting for Sahil to wait. She was nearly out of the hall, surrounded by other parents who looked at her with a mix of pity and disapproval. I didn’t care what they thought. Sahil blinked at me in confusion as I knelt to get closer to her so she could hear what I had to say.

I held her gaze. “Singapore may not be ready for you yet. But one day, it can be. I will work hard to make your dream a reality. If you grow up and find I couldn’t make Singapore ready for you in time, I’m counting on you to continue where I left off.”

It took a moment for my words to sink in. When it did, her frown changed to a subtle smile. She nodded. I didn’t push her to say anything. “So we got a deal? Good. Let’s shake on it.”

We shook hands, and I gave a thumbs up to her before heading back to my seat. The rest were giving me a look I couldn’t quite fathom at the time.

“What?” I asked. I figured they couldn’t hear what I told Sahil from where they were seated anyway.

HuaXuan pointed at my portable mike, still attached to my coat lapel. Turns out they heard every word.

Fine then. “Anyone going to tell me off? For selling a girl unrealistic dreams?” I asked.

No one did. They just looked away. Even Benjamin.

Well, whatever. I wasn’t in the mood anyway.

Mak gave me a big hug as soon I stepped back into the house. She must have gotten up as soon as she heard me pulling out the keys.

“What brought this on, mak?”

“My son is the best! Now everyone knows. I’m so proud of you, ‘nak,” mak blurted out, pulled my face down so she could kiss each of my cheeks in turn.

I had no idea what she was going on about and told her as much.

“The way you talked to the wheelchair girl! It was live, on TV,” mak squealed, “Everyone’s sharing it on Facebook too!”

I whipped out my phone and checked. All my friends had tagged me to a video, gave me a thumbs up. The amount of ‘likes’ had already reached 30k, and I just got home from the event. I didn’t even know the event was screened live in the first place.

What exactly did the video show? I pressed play. It started with the introduction of Sahil and continued to the point where I got out to talk to Sahil myself. The cameraman had even moved in and shown a clear view of me talking to Sahil and shaking her hand.

Only after watching the video did I realise how well my actions had reflected on me in the public eye. I had stolen the show without even intending to or realising it.

“If those Ng boys didn’t think you were a threat before, they do now,” Mak said with a huge grin on her face.

I jumped for joy, then froze. Questions were forming in my head.

How could that have happened?

The cameraman must have followed me as soon as I got up, and even went away from the main group of PM candidates to follow me into the crowd. Why would he do that? One would think he would stay with the three Ngs, and at most record me talking to Sahil from a distance. What I did was completely unrehearsed, so there couldn’t have been standing orders for the cameraman to follow me as I got up to talk to Sahil.

…No, I must have been overthinking it. The director must have been standing close by to us as the PMs candidates were the highlight of the show. She could probably tell something was going to happen when I got up. So she sent the cameraman to follow me. That had to be it.

Or so I thought.

Bio: Dr Begau Salleh (pen name) is an autistic writer based in Malaysia.

#malaysian fiction #malaysia #begau salleh #singapore candidate

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thecleverdame · 5 years

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TTWDBI - Eight

Part Eight - Deceit

Masterlist

Summary: Alpha!Sam x Omega!Reader - Sam is young, powerful and comes from one of the wealthiest families in New York. When he meets an Omega bartender who’s far from what his family expects, Sam is forced to make a series of hard choices.

Warnings: A/B/O dynamics, smut, knotting, breeding, dominance, ownership, angst, family drama. This chapter contains an attempted sexual assault, actual physical assault, and talk of past abuse.

Words: 6.5k

Beta: @ilikaicalie -

Part Nine is currently available on Patreon for a monthly pledge of $2.50. This includes early access to all my stories and Patreon exclusive content. >> CLICK HERE <<

“Where are we going?” You peek out of the walk-in closet. “I need a few details. I don’t know what to pack.”

“Just pack everything.” Sam’s distracted, staring down his iPad with a stylus between his teeth.

“Winter everything or warm weather everything?” You slink out into the bedroom. “Come on, just a hint. Just tell me...are we staying in the state or are we going somewhere more exotic.”

“Nope.” He quips, marking notes on the digital screen.

“How long are we staying? Are we driving or flying?” You persist.

He perks up a little, actually making eye contact with a smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth. “Pack enough for a week, a dress or two, something warm. A bathing suit, well, on second thought you won’t need the suit…”

“You’re awful.” You laugh, as he nips at you.

It’s been a month since Jake and things between you and Sam couldn’t be better. The last four weeks have been wonderfully uneventful and it’s given you the time to enjoy each other. In fact, you’ve discovered that the more you’re around each other, the deeper your love grows. Fate must have known what it was doing when it brought you together.

“Bring that black thing with all the lace, the one piece. I love your ass in that.”

“Maybe.” You smile, pulling the aforementioned neglige from the hanger and carefully folding it into the suitcase. “How many bags can I bring with me?”

“As many as you want we’re taking my dad’s plane so you can - fuck!”

“Aha!” You jump back out of the closet, to find Sam shaking his head, glaring at you. “We’re taking a plane somewhere. Out of the state? Out of the country?”

“You think you’re so slick.” He puts down the iPad and stands up, moving toward you. “You’re just going to have wait until tomorrow.”

“Come on!” You whine. “I wanna know.”

“I’m not saying another word, I might give something else away. I’ve kept it secret this long. I’m not letting you trip me up at the finish line. My lips are sealed.”

He pulls to you him, one hand around your waist, fingers curling around your back as his thumb trails over the scar on your neck.

“I’m excited.” You whisper, eyes fluttering at his touch. “I haven’t traveled much. I always wanted to, Donna and I were going to backpack through Ireland but neither of us ever had the money.”

“I’m gonna take you everywhere.” He murmurs, leans down for a light kiss. “Just wait.”

Prague, Czech Republic

The city is like a rich noir novel come to life. It’s a taste of the old world, with its decadent buildings and thick, hanging fog. It’s like living in a Bela Lugosi movie. You’ve been here for three days, with five more to go. A whole week in a place you didn’t know you loved until the plane landed and you stepped out into this strange new land.

It’s well after sunset as you walk arm-in-arm with Sam over the cobblestones.

“Are you hungry?” He asks, hot breath puffing out into the frigid night air. He places a gloved hand over yours.

“Starving.” You smile, picking up the pace.

Dinner is a five-course meal in a candlelit tavern that looks like a medieval alehouse, complete with walls of stone and soft music playing the background. It’s a small place, only a few other couples cuddle around the aging wood tables giving the illusion of privacy. You might as well be the only ones here as you get lost in Sam, and food, and the otherworldly surroundings.

By the time the sorbet arrives you’re both so full, you can only manage a taste before sitting back, grinning like a fool. Sam looks just as happy, he’s had a smile plastered across his face since you left New York and this broad, unadulterated joy looks good on him.

“I can’t believe this is my life.” You giggle, reaching across the table, laying your hand over his.

“You like it here?” He doesn’t need to ask, he knows he picked well. He’s watched you discover art and architecture and European cuisine. He knew you had deeper interests, a desire to see more than your previous life afforded but in this place, you’re blossoming.

“It’s not just the city, it’s being here with you. Everything just feels right.” You blink back tears. “I’ve never been able to breathe without something looming over me. I just feel so free. I love you so much.”

If it’s even possible his smile widens, dimpled cheeks rounding out.

“I love you, too.” He squeezes your fingers. “What’s been your favorite thing so far?”

“St. Vitus Cathedral at night.” You answer without even thinking about it. “I’ve never felt anything like that before, it was overwhelming and...emotional. Is that weird?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “I felt the same way when I saw it for the first time. I was visiting my mom and we came here. I was eight or nine and I stood there for an hour, transfixed. We should go back. We can go tonight.”

“Really?” You confirm. “I’d love that.”

“No better time than the present.”

After dinner, you wander through the city. It’s chilly but tolerable as you stroll for the better part of an hour, talking about nothing and walking arm in arm as a fat moon rises high in the night sky.

St. Vitus rises in front of you like an architectural beacon, lighting up the night like a gothic fairy tale.

“I never wanna leave.” You whisper, feeling both of Sam’s arms wrap around you from behind.

“What do you love so much about it?” He asks softly, nuzzling into your hair.

“The city, the people...but mostly I think it’s being with you. When we’re home you work so much...I’m not complaining. I just miss you sometimes.”

“We’ve got the rest of our lives to be together.” He whispers as he releases you. You turn to look at him but he’s already on one knee, crouching in front of you.

“Sam.” You’re already crying as he tugs the glove off your left hand.

“I love you. I wanna spend my life with you.” He states simply, a sparkling ring between his fingers. “I don’t want to wait any longer to start our life together. Will you marry me?”

“Yes!” You blurt out, half laughing, half crying, while he slips the ring onto your finger.

“I’m gonna make you so happy,” he whispers, standing and cradling your face between two warm hands. “I promise.”

The rest of the week is a lovesick haze. The days are spent making love and endless conversation about the details of your new life. Everything feels like it’s falling into place, life has finally come together to give you something good.

New York City

“Come in!” Mary claps her hands together, grinning wildly.

“Hi,” you gasp as she embraces you in a tight hug.

“Sam,” She releases you and reaches out to her son, kissing him on the cheek.

“Hi mom,” he grins as she pats his face. “You’re happy.”

“Well, I have a surprise for you.” She looks at you, the biggest smile you’ve ever seen on her face. “I think it’s just what we need.”

“What is it?” Sam smiles at you, taking your hand and leading the way to the study.

Rounding the corner you find two extra guests seated on the leather sofa, your parents.

You stop in your tracks as Sam tugs on your hand, turning to look between you and these new strangers. You’re locked in a staring match with your father, who’s teetering on the edge of the couch with a glass in his hand. Your mother is sitting uncomfortably beside him, these two couldn’t be more out of their comfort zone. They’ve always considered wealth in itself to be an offensive extravagance.

“Hello, Y/N.” Your father stands up, clearing his throat.

You unconsciously sidestep closer to Sam even though he’s not physically intimidating like when you were a girl, now he’s just a man in cheap trousers who no longer holds sway over your life.

“Hi, Dad.” You don’t move to greet him, there’s complete silence until your mother joins her husband, slinking past him to place a kiss on your cheek. “Mom.”

“Well, this isn’t exactly the reception I was hoping for.” Mary’s tone is painfully cheerful despite the unbearable tension.

“I’m sorry,” You pull yourself together. Turning to Sam you can’t bring yourself to look him in the eyes, you won’t be able to fake your way through this. “Sam these are my parents, Alastair and Naomi. Mom, Dad, this is Sam.”

Sam, always quick with his social graces, shakes your father’s hand and introduces himself to your mom while you are trying to formulate a plan. You were fully prepared to never see either of them again, but you find yourself in a room with two people who rival John and Mary in their cruelty.

“I just thought it was about time that we met Y/N’s parents.” Clasping her hands, Mary scrunches up her nose, smiling from you to Sam. “And what better time? You two can tell us all about Prague.”

“Actually, this is perfect.” Sam’s arm slips around your waist. “We have some news.”

“Oh?” John speaks up for the first time, tilting his head and staring at Sam. It’s amazing how much disappointment the man can convey with a single, one syllable word.

“Yeah,” Sam’s hand squeezes your hip and you look to him for the first time. He’s smiling, a bright genuine smile that even his father can’t take from him. “I asked Y/N to marry me.”

John snorts, Mary’s face contorts into a hideous expression of forced joy and your father remains stoic. It’s Naomi, your mother who has the biggest reaction, moving in to embrace you while your arms hang at your side.

“Congratulations,” she sputters, lifting your hand to see the ring. Her eyes go wide at the sight of the sizeable diamond. “Oh my gosh.”

“If she’s a wearing a ring that must mean she said yes,” Mary approaches you for a hug, nearly shoving your mother out of the way to get to you. “I wish you would have told me Sam, I could have helped with the ring.”

“I think I did alright on my own.” Sam’s grin, his eyes locked on you.

“It’s perfect.” You add, trying not to be distracted by this unexpected turn of events. This should be a happy announcement and you hate that your past is tainting the present, bleeding into your new life like an open wound that refuses to heal.

“I can’t believe you’re getting married.” Your mother has the same dulled, Stepford Wife expression she wore your entire childhood. “Marriage is such a gift, such a sacred bond.”

“Does that mean you’re happy for me?” The question comes out with an edge despite doing your best to temper the disdain.

“Of course.” She looks between you and Sam.

“Congratulations.” John’s face is even, unreadable as he approaches his youngest son.

“Thanks.” Sam accepts his father's half-hearted hug.

“Well,” Mary’s frozen in place, hands clasped together, turning to your father who hasn’t spoken or moved from his seat. “This is delightful news, isn’t it.”

“Seems backward to me.” His eyes lock onto you just like when you were a kid, so much silent contempt for what you are. He’s always resented that his daughter is an Omega. “You’re already claimed. What’s the point?”

“Dad.” You warn. Everyone is watching but all you can see is your father.

“I think it’s wonderful.” Mary tries to intercede. “With the baby things will be-”

“Mom!” Sam hisses.

Your mother looks heartbroken and your father’s eyes narrow in on you.

“You expected me to be shocked?” He snorts. “I wouldn’t have expected anything different from our daughter. She’s always had trouble keeping her legs closed.”

“Hey,” Sam is right beside you, ready to jump but you put your arm out to stop him.

“I know what you think of me. You’ve always made that much clear.”

“And you’ve always lived up to expectations. I tried my best with you, your mother and I both did. But you and your sister never listened.”

“Tried your best?” You laugh dryly. “You treated us like we were filthy, like being an Omega meant that I was damned from the get-go.”

“You had no self-control. It was bad enough when you were little but once you presented and that first heat came it was clear what kind of women you’d end up becoming.”

“I was a child!” You shout, tears springing to life. “I needed you to love me, to protect me. I needed mom to show me how to handle myself. All either of you ever did was hurt me.”

“This is the problem with today’s society. A little discipline never harmed anyone, and you needed more than you got.”

“I can’t be here with him.” You turned to Sam who’s already wrapping an arm around your waist.

“You’re going to burn in hell. You’ve always been a whore and I knew that you-”

“Stop.” John’s booming voice cuts through the noise, snapping everyone to attention. “You can’t speak that way to her, not in my home. You should leave.”

“Gladly.” Alastair stands up, your mother following blindly just as she always has. He stops to offer you final look of disgust. “You’re in the middle of a vipers nest and you don’t even know it. I’ll pray for you.”

“Get out.” Sam pulls you against him.

“What an awful man.” Mary comments, tucking hair behind both your ears. You can’t stop crying and the embarrassment doesn’t help. She wipes her thumb across your cheeks. “If I had any idea I would never have invited him here.”

“All I want is to live my life, to be happy. I don’t know why that’s always been so hard for me.”

“Well, there’s nothing happier than a wedding.” She dotes, handing you a glass of water, turning to Sam who’s seated next to John at the end of the table. “Have you two talked about dates yet?”

“Next month.” Sam nods, tapping his finger on his whiskey glass.

“Next month?” She scoffs, eyes darting to John. “Why so soon?”

“She’s going to start showing at some point.”

“My son is suddenly concerned about what other people think.”

“We don’t want to wait any longer. We want to move forward as a family.” You chime in. Mary doesn’t look at you, instead takes a seat at the table.

“I think it’s a good thing.” John offers casually as the three of you turn to look at him in disbelief. “Family is important. That’s a lesson I’m still learning. I haven’t always been the most supportive, but if Sam’s happy, if you two make each other happy, then why the hell not.”

He raises a glass, tipping back the final vestiges of whiskey, his eyes never leaving you.

On Monday morning you’re not feeling well. Sam looks at you sideways, sipping a cup of coffee.

“You alright?” He kisses your cheek before checking his tie in the mirror beside the door.

“Just tired.” You mumble, wrapping the robe around yourself. “I didn’t sleep well.”

“Go back to bed.” He suggests, grabbing his keys off the counter, swooping in for one last kiss.

There’s a gentle buzzing coming from somewhere in the kitchen. Sam pulls away as you both look around. After a few seconds of silence, it buzzes again. Something’s vibrating. He follows the sound to the pantry, sliding the doors open, the sound growing louder. After shifting a few canned goods around he pulls a small black flip phone from the back of the highest shelf, from behind a 5lb bag of rice.

“It’s a phone?” You ask, watching and he flips it open with his thumb.

“Yeah, it’s dying.” He holds it up, the screen is nothing but the image of a drained battery.

“How’d it get in there?” You ask as Sam hands it to you.

“No idea, must be the housekeeper’s.” He shrugs. “I gotta go, see you tonight.”

Sam’s knee deep in a fresh set of analytics, already late for the quarterly meeting when there’s a knock the door.

“What it is?” He asks, expecting Rowena’s head to poke around the corner. Instead, it’s Mary who steps into his office, offering him a tight smile.

“I came at a bad time?” She’s slinking toward his desk as he shuffles papers back into the proper folders.

“Sorry mom, I’m right in the middle of it. I’m already late for a meeting. Can we talk later?”

“I just need a second.” There’s a large manilla folder in her stands, clutching it like she’s holding the crown jewels.

“I’ve only got one minute, but we can get coffee later if you want to-”

“I’d like that, but I-I have to show you something.”

“What?” He’s only half paying attention. When she doesn’t speak he looks up to find her holding the folder out toward him. “What is that?”

“Before you get mad at me, I want you to hear me out.” She explains calmly.

“Mom-”

“I care about you Sam, I won’t ever feel bad for that. I know you think you love this girl but the truth is no really knows where she came from or-”

“I’m not having this discussion.” Sam rests his knuckles on the desk, leaning forward.

“She’s not who you think she is.” Mary’s flustered, unadulterated anger rising her voice. “I know you think I’m always trying to manipulate you, but I’m not the only one-”

“Please, just stop. You’re on dangerous ground. You wanna be careful what you say next. I thought you were on board. Has this whole supportive production just been an act?” He can’t believe she’s still trying to pry her way into his relationship.

“No, I’ve been trying, honestly I have.” She walks around his desk, setting the folder in front of him. “You need to look at this when you have the time.”

“What is it?”

“After I first found out you claimed an Omega I hired a private investigator to look into her background. I needed to be sure you weren’t going to end up hurt.”

“Unbelievable.” Sam shakes his head.

“Sam, he found some things you need to see before you decide to marry this woman.”

“Everybody’s got shit in their past, mom.” He throws up his hands, looking from her to the folder, unwilling to dignify this with an adequate response.

“Not like this.” Mary’s jaw clenches. “She has been busy-”

“No.” Sam interrupts, he’s had enough. “I don’t want to hear any more.”

“I hope, for your sake you look at what he found. Don’t call me, call him. His number is in there.”

Sam sighs, takes a deep breath trying to fathom what in the world his mother is up to now. He’s disgusted but interested enough to pick up the pack and slide it in with his other documents.

“You need to stay out of my life.” He grabs his jacket off the back of the chair. “Find a way to get supportive or get out. It’s one or the other, Mom. I love you, I do, but I’ve got to go.”

By noon you’re sick to your stomach, lightheaded and generally feeling unsettled. Figuring it’s better to be safe than sorry you call the clinic. Dr. Johnson has an open appointment the next morning so you take the slot and go back to bed.

A few hours later the cramps wake you out of dead sleep. You jolt into consciousness clutching a hand over your abdomen, sweat covering every inch of you. Something is wrong, you know it in your bones.

You get yourself in a cab and head to the nearest emergency room. You don’t want to call Sam, not yet. He and John are having an important day, meeting with investors and getting ready for the global launch of their new flagship drug. Things have been going so well even his father is coming around. You don’t want to throw a wrench in the works by overreacting.

Omegas are made to carry children. You keep repeating that to yourself as you sit in the waiting room.

After twenty minutes you’re in a triage room in a paper gown waiting for the doctor. They’ve taken a gallon of blood but no one’s told you anything.

There’s a soft knock at the door.

“Hi, I’m Dr. Tuttle. I’m told you’re not feeling so well?”

“Not the best.” You smile as he takes a seat on the stool, rubbing hand sanitizer between his hands. He flips open your chart, reading through the notes.

“Twelve weeks, no complications. You’re claimed… Sam Winchester?” His eyes snap up, glancing at the gleaming rock on your finger.

“Yeah.” You blush, covering the ring self-consciously.

“I just read an article in the New England Journal of Medicine about the work Gilead’s spearheading. It’s an exciting time in medicine.”

“Sam will happy to hear that.” You try to move on from the niceties to the issue at hand, closing your eyes as pain bubbles up from your gut.

“I’m surprised you’re here. You don’t have a personal physician? And you're alone?”

“My doctor couldn’t see me until tomorrow and I didn’t want to worry Sam unless I know something’s wrong. I didn’t think I should wait, though.”

“Smart.” He smiles. “Don’t worry, I’m sure you’re fine. No bleeding?”

“No, I just feel dizzy and sick to my stomach. The cramping comes and goes.”

“It’s not uncommon.” He places a hand on your arm. “Lay back for me.”

You stare at the ceiling as he gently presses on different areas of your stomach, asking about abdominal tenderness while making small talk.

There’s a knock on the door and a nurse enters the room, handing him a tablet. He reads the screen, forehead furrowing.

“The doctor you’ve been seeing, Dr. Johnson, she never mentioned you have low progesterone levels?”

“No,” You sit up, unease tightening in your chest. “Is something wrong?”

“I didn’t say that.” He shakes his head. “We’re going to do an ultrasound, just to be on the safe side.”

After a few minutes, there’s a cart wheeled into the room. One nurse is joined by two more as the doctor squirts gel onto your stomach, all four pairs of eyes silently glued to a screen you can’t see.

Dr. Tuttle clears his throat, mouth tightening. It doesn’t take a genius to gage the confused reactions of the medical team.

“What’s wrong?” You ask, tears pooling. “Did I lose my baby?”

“No.” The doctor removes the wand from your stomach. “I can’t discuss this any further with you. I have to speak with your Alpha-”

“Are you kidding me?” You’ve reached the end of your rope with this shit. This is your body, your child and you want to know now. “Tell me what’s going on, I have a right to know.”

Dr. Tuttle takes a breath, “Can I have the room please.”

“Please just tell me.” Wiping tears you wait in terrified anticipation until it’s only the two of you in the room.

“I shouldn’t do a pelvic exam without the consent of your Alpha. I could get in trouble. But I feel in this case I need to make an exception.”

“Why are you telling me that?”

“Because I need to do one. Right now.”

“This doesn’t feel right, I don’t understand what’s going on.”

“I don’t want to say anything else until I have more information.” He looks you dead in the eyes. “You’re gonna have to trust me.”

“Great.” You close your eyes, trying not to sob. “Why not.”

There’s an ultimate humiliation in not having power over your own body. You lie on the table, feet in stirrups and an arm hooked over your eyes, as the doctor performs an examination. It’s almost twenty minutes before he’s finishing poking and probing. You listen to the sickening sound of him snapping off rubber gloves.

“We’re done.” He gently places a hand on your arm, using the other to pull you into a sitting position. His face is grim, looking at you like he’s truly sorry for what he’s about to say.

“Are you gonna tell me?”

“You’re not pregnant.” He states calmly.

The air feels thick like you can’t get enough into your lungs to take a full breath. There’s a numbness that starts in your head and descends over your entire body as you sit and stare at Dr. Tuttle, expressionless.

“Did, um, did I do something wrong?” You ask, the words falling out of your mouth on autopilot. “Is this my fault?”

“No.” He shakes his head. “You were never pregnant.”

“I don’t understand.” Never pregnant. It’s too much, too confusing and your brain can’t process what he’s telling you. “But I…”

“You have high levels of estrogen, extremely low progesterone and a synthetic version of hCG that showed up in your tox screen. It’s tricked your body into pseudocyesis. It mimics all the symptoms associated with a normal pregnancy. Swollen belly, breast tenderness, nausea, and weight gain. In some cases even the feeling of fetal movement. You wouldn’t have known the difference. But I can say with a hundred percent certainty that you have never been pregnant.”

You stare at him, unable to move or speak, the gravity of this revelation setting in.

“But I-I saw a heartbeat. I saw my baby.”

“Whatever you saw, it wasn’t your pregnancy.” He takes off his glasses, pinching the bridge of his nose. “This is unconventional, I shouldn’t even be telling you this. I have to call your Alpha.”

“Okay.” You’re still, focused on the wall. You can’t think anymore. If you let yourself feel it’ll be too much, so instead you shut down. “I need to go.”

“I think you should stay. We’ll call your Alpha, maybe we can all sit down together-”

“No.” You discard your gown in front of him, nudity is your last concern as you search for your jeans. “Thank you, but I need to go home now.”

Sam’s phone vibrates in his pocket for the third time in five minutes. He checks it again, it’s a number he doesn’t recognize so he hits the mute button.

“You need to take that?” John leans back in his chair, his eyes never leaving the shareholders presentation that’s currently in progress.

“I don’t know.” Sam grimaces as a fourth call comes in. “I think I better.”

Stepping into the hallways he answers, already annoyed. “Winchester.”

“Sam Winchester?” The voice is male and unfamiliar.

“The one and only. Who is this?”

“My name is doctor Tuttle, I’m a physician at New York Presbyterian.”

Sam’s heart drops into this stomach.

“What’s wrong?” He’s sweating before the question is finished.

“Your Omega came in today, I treated her for what I thought were pregnancy-related symptoms.”

“Is she alright?” He takes off toward his office, breaking into a run. He just needs his car keys. “Is something wrong with our baby?”

“She’s fine, but I do have some pretty unsettling news, Mr. Winchester. I think it’s best if you come here so we can speak in person.”

“I’m on my way.”

Twenty minutes later Sam’s sitting in a small office with lime green walls, listening as he’s told that his entire world has been a lie.

She was never pregnant. It appears to be a chemical induced pregnancy.

The words rattle around in his head. The doctor keeps talking, the hospital legal counsel sitting in the corner taking notes.

“How is this possible?” Sam can feel the rage boiling in his veins. You’ve been lying to him all this time, it’s the only explanation. “She had an ultrasound, I was there.”

“It wouldn’t be the first time that a woman has faked a pregnancy.” The lawyer speaks up. “You’d be surprised what people will agree to do for a little bit of cash.”

“I’m not entirely convinced that’s the case.” Dr. Tuttle speaks up. “She came in knowing we’d run tests, all it took was a blood screen and an ultrasound to determine she wasn’t pregnant. And her reactions appeared to be genuine. I tried to get her to stay, to wait for you, but she insisted on leaving.”

“I haven’t been able to reach her.” Sam runs a hand over his mouth. There’s a pressure building in his chest, starting to make it hard to breathe “I need to get out of here.”

He tried to call you several times on his way to the hospital but your phone is turned off. He left Donna a message but he didn’t know who else to call. You’re unreachable and his entire world is coming apart at the seams.

He sits in his car in the parking garage, key in the ignition but the car is still off. Sam can’t think straight. There are a million thoughts swirling in his brain. His eyes fall on the folder his mother handed him this morning, and he picks up, pulling out a stack of documents.

The first sheet is withdrawal history from your bank account. He hasn’t checked it since the business with Jake but the money didn't stop there. There are a series of withdrawals every month totaling around ten thousand dollars. There are two pages stapled to that one, showing charitable donations to the clinic you’ve been attending. And a deposit statement from the account of Amelia Richardson for fifteen thousand dollars.

Next is a transcript of text messages from an unlabeled number to a second number identified as Jake. It’s a series of messages that end in asking him to come to the apartment the day of the assault, along with the building address and security code.

The following page is a list of internet searches from your home IP address. Some of it’s about him, his family and then the inquiries trail off into fertility. Next, are various detailed searches regarding marriage laws and the details of financial responsibility once an Alpha marries an Omega. Then the specifics of the new drug that Sam’s been working on.

The connections begin to click together. He’s spent the last year listening to scientists explain how their cure for heat sickness works, It’s simple really. It tricks the body into thinking it’s pregnant. It can’t be a coincidence. There’s no way.

The next page is a series of photos. The first two of are you coming and going from the clinic.

In the third, you’re sitting alone at a table in a cafe. Directly behind is a young blonde, it takes Sam a moment to place her. It’s the ultrasound technician. In the following photo, the girl is gone and you’re joined by Donna. There’s a handwritten note in the margins that reads withdrawal of a thousand same day - pay off?

Next is a surveillance shot of you and Amelia in a hallway at Gilead, you’re talking about something and there’s a note, a reference back to your bank withdrawal and the corresponding deposit into Amelia’s account.

The final photo makes his heart stop. It’s different than the rest and there’s a Post It that says found in Jake’s apartment. It’s from four or five years ago at a charity event. Sam and Dean are front and center, arms around each other’s shoulders. Sam remembers that night well, they both drank too much and ended up flying to Vegas at 3 am. But behind Dean is your image, a younger version of you dressed in a caterer’s uniform, holding a tray of champagne, staring at the back of Sam’s head.

The last page is the name of a divorce lawyer, Rouel Felder, and grainy photos of you leaving his office. Felder is ruthless, he’s represented everyone from Rudolph Giuliani to David Gest.

There’s a handwritten synopsis from the investigator.

It is my personal opinion, based on these facts, that the subject has engaged in ongoing deception regarding her pregnancy and her relationship with Jake Livingston. I believe the subject new that J. Livingston had photos of her contact with S. Winchester prior to their most recent meeting and that the subject cultivated the situation that lead to the death of J. Livingston at the hands of her Alpha.

The picture is clear. You’ve had an agenda from the beginning, this has all been one long, elaborate con designed to get him to marry you.

He opens the door of his car just in time to vomit on the cement. He wipes his mouth with his tie, before yanking it off his neck, tossing it on the ground of the parking garage. There’s a moment when he can’t see straight, his vision blurring as a sickening combination of anger and betrayal rises up.

He punches the steering column a half dozen times, not stopping until his knuckles bleed, but what he really wants is to punch a hole in the windshield. He’s about to really lose it when his phone vibrates and Donna’s name scrolls across the screen.

“I got your voicemail.” Donna quips as soon as he picks up. “I haven’t heard from her. Is something going on-”

“Did you fucking know?” Sam snarls, gripping the phone so tight his fingers turn white. “Have you two been laughing behind my back?”

“You’re gonna need to take a chill pill, buddy.” Donna shoots back. “You might be used to talking to other people like that, but not me.”

“I know what she’s been doing.” He hits the horn of the car with a closed fist.

“Care to share? Because I don’t have a freakin’ clue what you’re talking about.”

“This whole thing was a setup. The sob story about her parents, getting me to take out Jake and a baby that doesn’t fucking exist.”

“Are you drunk?” She asks flatly. “Is something wrong with the baby?”

“I’m so sick of people lying to me!” Sam lashes out, he wants to hurt someone, the rage bubbling up inside him has almost reached its breaking point. “I trusted her.”

“I still have no clue what you’re talking about but you need to take a breath.” She replies calmly.

“I’m talking about Y/N being this whole other person...I was so blind.”

“Stop.” Donna commands and Sam bristles. “Whatever happened you need to stop. This is the kind of crazy shit I warned her about. I told her you’d be bad for her..”

“Me?” Sam snorts in disbelief. “Bad for her?”

“Yeah, your crazy family has had it out for her since you two hooked up. I don’t know what happened but what I do know is that if you think she’s lied or betrayed you somehow, then you really are just a self-absorbed asshole. She’s put herself out there over and over again just to be with you, and now you’re talking like she’s some kind of criminal or something? Have you actually taken the time to get to know her? Because if you had, we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”

Sam’s silent.

“You don’t deserve her.” She spits. “Now, if you’ll excuse me I need to find my friend and figure what the hell is going on. It sounds like she probably needs someone to be there for her, and it sure as hell isn’t you.”

He’s calmed down and he’s got a plan. He’s going to remain collected and confront you with the facts. Show you the photos and the documents and ask for your side the story. The more he thinks about Donna’s words the more he knows she’s right.

This isn’t you. He’s an idiot for thinking anything else.

He can believe a lot of terrible things about almost anyone, but not you. Maybe he’s blinded by his love for you, or maybe it’s just your bond but he can’t imagine that the situation is what is appears to be.

Sam can hear it the minute the door opens. Your cries are audible from the living room and he follows the sound to find you sitting in the middle of the bedroom floor, sobbing into your hands.

He doesn’t understand much about what’s happening, but the moment he sees you he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that you had no idea. There’s no faking this kind of despair.

“Y/N.” He says softly from the doorway and you let out a howl, wrapping your arms tighter around yourself, rocking back and forth on the floor. Gasping through the tears he can hear you struggling to breathe, you’re hyperventilating.

“Hey,” he sits on the floor, scooting closer, pulling you between his legs to wrap himself around you.

“I c-can’t b-breathe.” You sputter, gasping like a fish on dry land.

“Yes, you can.” Sam wants to cry too, but his emotional outbursts are the last thing you need right now. This moment is the greatest test of his ability to be an Alpha and he’s not about to let you down, not again, not after everything. “Breathe with me. Come on, in...out...in...out.”

He takes exaggerated breaths so you easily feel the rhythm of his body, each inhale and exhale is measured and slow until you calm down enough to find the pace on your own. But as soon as the panic attack passes your tears come back, gut-wrenching sobs that crush Sam’s heart.

“I don’t understand. I could feel our baby.” You howl. “I could feel it inside me but it was never there.”

“I know.” He kisses your head, rocking with you in his arms.

“I-I didn’t w-want it and then I fell in love with the idea of-” You can’t finish.

For a long time, neither of you say a word, you just cry for nearly an hour until you’re too physically exhausted to shed another tear. Even after the crying stops, he holds you as the minutes tick by and you lie limply in his arms.

“We’re gonna find out what happened. I promise you.”

“I don't care.” You whisper, utterly defeated. “I want my baby.”

“I’m so sorry,” Sam whispers, a tear sliding down his cheek. “We’ll have a baby. As soon as you want, whenever you’re ready.”

“I don’t think I can.” You grip his arms, holding on like some unseen force might try to pull you away from him. “My heart is too broken.”

Part Nine is currently available on Patreon for a monthly pledge of $2.50. This includes early access to all my stories and Patreon exclusive content. >> CLICK HERE <<

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vannahfanfics · 4 years

Text

Sora’s Road

Category: Friendship Fluff

Fandom: Kingdom Hearts

Characters: Sora, Belle

Requested By: cornholio4 (FanFiction)

The air was pleasantly perfumed with the scent of roses as Sora strolled through the wrought-iron gates of Beast’s Castle. At least, he was pretty sure it was the right place, but a shadow of doubt was cast over his mind as he tossed a sweeping glass over the courtyard. What had once been a gloomy, moonlit, ice-frosted tiled courtyard had been renovated into an expansive garden, with the bright spring sun burning in a bright blue sky. Sora’s feet slapped against pristine white tiles as he strolled down the pathway leading to the castle proper, his hands clasped behind his head as he looked back and forth. Whoever the gardener was clearly possessed some talent, as the hedges were trimmed into effigies of various forest animals; Sora saw a regal elk, a pair of prancing foxes, and even a howling wolf.

“Did I get lost?” he wondered aloud as he continuing to inspect the cheery garden. Granted, he hadn’t visited the world since he defeated Xemnas, and so he supposed worlds didn’t stay stagnant forever. Just look at how pretty Radiant Garden was, a far cry from the squalor and darkness of Hollow Bastion. He was feeling a little more sure of himself when he finally came to the great doorway leading into the castle, which didn’t look too terribly different- except it was open to the world, allowing the fresh spring breeze to waft in. “Weird. I wouldn’t think that the Beast would want any regular visitors,” he wondered aloud as he skipped up to the threshold. Not wishing to be rude, he gave a few raps of his knuckles against the wood, which he noticed had recently been given a fresh coat of paint.

“Hello?” he called into the empty entryway. “It’s me, Sora! Um, is anyone home?”

He cocked an eyebrow as he heard the frantic squeaking of what sounded like shoes on waxed floors rapidly approaching. His eyebrow crept all the way up to the roots of his spiky hair when a blonde-haired little boy suddenly burst out of the door he recalled leading to the kitchen to scamper right up to him. The floor actually had just been waxed, because he slipped and slid a little as he careened over to Sora, managing to stop himself in the doorway by grabbing hold of the broad wooden door. “Er, hi,” Sora blinked at the human boy.

“Sora! Long time, no see!” Sora gawked at him in utter confusion.

“I’m sorry; do I know you?”

“It’s me! Chip!” the boy grinned and pulled his mouth open with his fingers to display a chipped front tooth. “Shee? Shee? Ish me!” he insisted before dropping his hands from his mouth. Sora’s mouth hung open as his neurons struggled to process that the little chipped teacup was now a hyperactive little boy.

“Chip! Where are you, Chip?” a motherly voice floated out of the still-swinging kitchen door. Soon a portly woman came bustling out, rubbing her hands on a dishtowel and shaking her head. “So much energy… Chip! Oh, there you are, honey,” she smiled as she spotted her son standing in the open doorway with the still shell-shocked Sora staring stupidly at her.

“Mrs. Potts…?” Sora asked hesitantly as the apron-wearing woman came walking over.

“Why, hello, Sora. How nice of you to come calling.”

“I’m confused. So confused.” He groaned and pressed his aching forehead into the doorframe. Last he had seen, the castle was home to an assortment of live odds and ends, not human beings. He vaguely recalled the magical rose and some semblance of a curse, and the pieces finally clicked into place in his mind. His head shot up with a gasp of epiphany. “Oh, so does this mean the castle’s curse is broken?!”

“That’s right, dear. All of us have returned to our human forms! Master opened up the castle again and has been making right by himself. He sure is popular with the townsfolk these days!” Mrs. Potts chortled as she took Chip by the shoulder and pulled him into her stout body. Chip smiled as he wrapped his twiggy arms around her thick waist. “Life has never been better.”

“I’m glad to hear that!” he smiled genuinely. It did him good to know his friends were doing well.

“How about you, dear?”

“Well…” he frowned and scratched at the side of his head, trying to relate his problems to the kind lady without disrupting the order, because he knew Donald would harp on him about that if he ever found out. “Let’s just say, I had a really important task to do that I bungled real good, and now I’m back to square one.”

“Your friends aren’t with you?”

“I decided to travel by myself for a while. There’s a lot of stuff I need to figure out and do, and I can’t have my hand held, y’know? Gotta find my own inner strength!” he grinned while clapping his hands together. His smile wavered a little, though; it was terribly hard being without his friends, and he really didn’t have much of a clue what had happened to him, either. Just all his powers, gone, just like that. He had been roaming the worlds for a while now, trying to piece together how he had stockpiled all that power in the first place, but it was a terribly lonely process. He had decided on a whim to pay a visit to Belle, because she was really smart and could probably point him in the right direction. “I came to see Belle because she’s read a lot and knows a lot, so I thought she could give me some advice.”

“Oh, well, she is a very smart young lady. At the very least, I’m sure that a cup of tea and a nice chat will do wonders for you! Belle’s in the library. I’ll bring you some refreshments along soon! Come, come, Chip; we have work to do,” the maid smiled as she bustled the excitable boy back to the kitchen. Chip hurriedly learned around his mother’s appreciable frame to wave excitedly in farewell, which Sora returned amiably. The young Keyblade wielder then set off for the great library that Belle pretty much called home.

“Hello? Belle, you in here? It’s Sora!” he announced as he ambled in, hand cupped to his mouth so his voice would reach into the depths of the tall stacks of books. He heard her greeting come floating back and he followed it through the towers of dusty tomes until he came upon her, seated primly at a table with books piled up around her. It always amazed Sora how fast and how much she could read; he had no doubt that those books were ones she had finished, probably for the fourth or fifth time. “How ya doin’?” he asked her jovially as he grabbed a chair and flipped it around to straddle it, arms crossed over the top with his chin resting against his forearm.

“Quite well,” she responded as she marked her page and shut the book to address him properly. She rested her hands primly on her aproned dress, smiling sweetly. “I have to say this is a surprise, but a good one. Your friends are not with you?” Man, I didn’t realize how much people associate me with Donald and Goofy, he thought in amusement.

“Nah. I’m goin’ solo right now.”

“A journey of self-enlightenment?”

“Yeah, you could say that,” he said with a light blush, admittedly having only a surface-level of understanding of the term but not wishing to look foolish in front of the smart princess. “So, the curse is finally broken, huh? Good for you guys.”

“Oh, yes. Adam and I have been making the most of our good fortune.” At his owlish look, she giggled and explained, “That’s Beast’s real name, Prince Adam.”

“Oh.” His gaze dropped to the book she had set down in front of her, and, curious as ever, he picked it up to inspect the back cover. “You really do like adventure books, don’tcha?”

“Of course. The world is vast, as you know, and it’s hard to see it all with your own eyes. Books are a wonderful way to do so.” The corner of Sora’s mouth twitched at the irony that Sora was probably the worlds’ leading expert on vastness, but he didn’t say anything because preserving the order and all that junk. He flipped the book open to rifle through the pages, barely scanning the printed words. “I don’t have much time to read. Y’know, bein’ a Hero of Light and all is a full-time job.”

“I’m sure it is, and a hard one, too. I imagine you’re here because you’ve hit a wall of some sort, yes?” Sora smiled sheepishly at how easily she was able to read him. Man, if he only had half as many functional brain cells as the intelligent princess, he could probably riddle out his problem and scamper back to Yen Sid’s a champion. He set the book down, sliding it back in front of her before collapsing into the top of the chair with a dramatic sigh.

“Yeah, you got me. I sorta lost all my strength in a big blunder on my part, and now I feel like I’m being left behind,” he pouted miserably as he toed the plush rug beneath the table. “I’ve been travelin’ around lookin’ for answers on how to get it back, but so far, I ain’t found nuthin’.” He punctuated the statement with a snort through his nose. Belle smiled sympathetically at him.

“I see. I’m sure it’s a heavy weight on your mind.” She turned to pry a book from within the stack beside her. “Heroes bear the heaviest burdens of us all, I reckon. I’m not versed in heroics, but whenever I feel overwhelmed, I can always find a book that puts my mind at ease. Would you like me to read for you, Sora?”

His eyes lit up and he scooched the chair a little closer, smiling broadly while nodding emphatically. Belle had a pretty voice, so he was sure that whatever she read to him would be invigorating. He could probably read her a recipe and he’d be totally enthralled. Belle smiled serenely as she settled back in the chair and flipped the book open to the first chapter. Sora melted into contentment as he listened to her sweet, honey-like voice. There was something about it that was just so calming and reassuring, telling him that everything was going to be okay. As promised, Mrs. Potts brought them tea and cakes, but Sora was so caught up in Belle reading aloud that he didn’t hardly notice, and just munched on the snacks on autopilot without much savoring of the sweets.

She read him the whole novel. It was actually pretty riveting; it was about an exiled prince who had been stripped of all his power and wealth and had gone on a grand journey to reclaim his throne. He made a lot of trusted friends and was able to win his throne back. Listening to it, Sora felt hopeful about his situation; sure, he had no idea of how yet, but he was gonna bungle along this little road of his until he made it back. If Sora was good at anything, it was not giving up.

“Do you feel better?” Belle asked him as she shut the book.

“Yeah, loads!” he grinned brightly at her as he sat up in the chair to stretch his arms above his head. “I’m gonna do whatever it takes! I gotta get my power back because a lot of people depend on me. I can’t be a burden to them, especially not now.”

“Don’t overdo it,” she cautioned him gently. “Your friends are there for you, too. Take all the time you need and make sure it’s done right. I’m sure you’ll become strong again.”

“Thanks, Belle,” he smiled, then took the teacup in front of him to knock it back and drain the last dregs of the sugary tea from it. “Man, Mrs. Potts makes good tea.”

“Yes, she does,” Belle laughed good-naturedly. “I know you’re busy with things far beyond my understanding, but you’re always welcome here, Sora. I’d always love to tell you a story.”

“Yeah, totally! I’ll bring Riku and Kairi- my friends- one day too!” And Roxas, and Xion, and Naminé, and Lea, and Terra and Aqua and Ventus, he thought, a determined smile inching up on his lips. He had to get stronger soon to save all of them, but like Belle said, at least he could be content knowing that Riku and Kairi were both in good hands at the moment. Sora could focus all he wished in reclaiming his lost powers. Belle eyed him almost sorrowfully as he pushed himself up with his hands and swung his leg over the chair to straighten out his clothes.

“Leaving so soon?”

“Yeah,” he said with an apologetic glance. “As much as I would like to stay, the road’s out there waiting. I better get walkin’.” She laughed and stood to accompany him on his exit. She walked him to the front gate, smiling gently all the while. He blushed a little as he looked back to her, rubbing the back of his head.

“What is it, Sora?”

“It’s kinda embarrassing, but I was kinda thinking that you’re like a big sister I never had,” he admitted with a shy laugh. Belle’s smile grew warm, and she closed the small distance between them to give him a firm hug. Sora returned it gratefully, though his face took on a darker shade of fuchsia. Riku would totally make fun of me if he saw this… After she pulled back, he sniffed and rubbed the underside of his nose, laughing bashfully. “I’m really glad things worked out here.”

“As am I. Things will work out for you, too. Patience and perseverance, Sora.”

“I gotta work on the ‘patience’ part,” he snickered before turning to push open the gate. Belle gave him a wave of farewell as he strolled out onto the path leading to the woods, and he gave her one last little wiggle of his fingers before he whirled around, putting one foot in front of the other with his hands clasped behind his head. There was his road, stretched out before him. He didn’t know quite how it would travel, but he knew one thing for certain: his friends were waiting at the end, both those who had been with him through thick and thin and those he hadn’t met yet. That was all the motivation Sora needed to keep walking.

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