#sorry this is slightly vagueing a post that im not mad at just got some facts wrong | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

lake-arrius-caverns · 3 years

Text

Nerevarine Rising

Chapter 9: Outlander Avenger

this took too long to post heehoo ive noticed that sometimes italics don’t save when im posting on tumblr? might have been a glitch idk but in that case it’s better to read on AO3 where the formatting is actually proper lol

summary On their arrival to Vivec City, the twins part ways and Fahjoth finds himself drawn into the investigation of a very serious crime.

content warnings violence, blood, minor character death

read under the cut or on AO3, cheers 👍

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“Ey, Ribyna, have you ever heard of Ashlanders?”

“Yeah, why?”

Fahjoth paused, pulling a disgruntled pout. The sun had well and truly set now; the last vestiges of warmth had evaporated entirely, replaced by a nipping chill and creeping shadows that submerged their surroundings in deep blue blankets. Vivec City loomed in the distance, unlike anything Fahjoth had ever seen before. Instead of individual houses like he had seen in every other town he’d been to so far, the city was populated by rows of colossal cantons, square and blocky yet towering over them with a kind of intimidating grandeur. Walkways bridged the gaps between the cantons, stretching over the rolling waters of the Ascadian Isles’ open bay, and several flags and tapestries fluttered from the sides of the cantons, embroidered with differing patterns and art that Fahjoth couldn’t make out from a distance.

Turning his gaze back to Ribyna as they crossed the bridge towards the first canton, Fahjoth gave an exasperated huff, though there was no real annoyance in his tone. “Oh, so it’s just me, then?” he questioned. “Being an idiot as per usual. D’you know, I made a right tit of myself to Cosades earlier. Told him I didn’t know what Ashlanders were, then he gave me a bollocking for being a dipshit. I mean, how was I supposed to know? Nobody’s told me!”

Ribyna’s response was surprisingly terse. “Well, maybe if you kept your mouth shut more often instead of chatting a load of shit, you’d listen and actually learn something for once.”

Fahjoth blinked, taken aback by this harsh rebuttal. He was used to Ribyna’s blunt manner of speaking of course, but this was something else entirely. He had noticed her demeanour getting more subdued and her posture stiffening the closer they got to Vivec City, and chalked it up to weariness after their long walk. Now, however, he was not so sure. Was that a hint of nervousness he detected in her voice?

“Are you alright?” he asked, then frowned sympathetically. “Bit nervous about being in the big city?”

“What?” Ribyna turned back to Fahjoth and flashed him a scathing look. “No, of course not. Don’t be stupid.”

“Then what is it?” He received no response, as Ribyna stopped walking and examined their surroundings, occasionally dropping her gaze down and squinting at the map she held.

“Right, I’ve got some shit to do,” she announced, as if she hadn’t even heard Fahjoth’s concerns. Fahjoth was certain that this wasn’t the case. “I’ll see you later.”

“Whoah, hang on a second!” Fahjoth protested, disconcerted by Ribyna’s unexpected change of plans. “I didn’t realise we’d be splitting up. What are you doing, anyway?”

“Just... stuff,” Ribyna replied vaguely. Fahjoth grimaced; perhaps it was best that he didn’t know the details after all, if she was here on business with the Thieves Guild.

“Alright, fine,” Fahjoth said, relenting. “But where should I meet you?”

“Uh...” Ribyna gestured aimlessly at the immediate canton, the details on its banners now impossible to make out in the dark. “The map says this is the Foreign Quarter. Just find a cornerclub or something in here and get a room sorted for us. I’ll meet you back here when I’m done.”

“Right,” Fahjoth replied mutedly. Admittedly, he was disappointed; he had been assuming that he and Ribyna would explore Vivec City together, but now, he was resigning himself to being Billy-No-Mates for the next few hours, or however long Ribyna would take to do her mysterious errand. “See you later then.”

Fahjoth thought Ribyna may have flashed him an apologetic glance before she turned away, but then she stalked away along the path flanking the canton and rounded the corner, disappearing out of sight. Heaving a sigh that materialised in the air as a faint puff of steam, Fahjoth turned and headed up the sloping path towards the canton’s upper door, slipping inside and into the warmth.

The inside of the canton was well-lit with torches and rather cheerfully decorated, an array of potted plants sitting in the corners while colourful tapestries and banners hung from the walls. Fahjoth could see a variety of people going about their business, not just Dunmer but Imperials, Bretons, and Redguards, among others, and in that moment he felt a strange sense of almost belonging. Initially he was surprised, until he realised that he was in the Foreign Quarter, and he was left with a deep feeling of despondency instead.

This grim reminder that he truly was an outlander was accentuated by the unrelenting glares he received from the Ordinators who patrolled the corridors, striking an intimidating presence with their gleaming gold armour and helmets, fashioned into the shape of a sharp elven face with a crest of hair atop their heads.

“We’ll have no trouble here,” one of the Ordinators said in a low, rasping voice as he walked by. “Move along.”

Suppressing a shudder, Fahjoth began to wander around the upper floor of the canton, trying to look as if he knew where he was going as opposed to being totally lost. Fortunately, it didn’t take too long before he found himself at a door with a sign overhead reading The Black Shalk Cornerclub. Figuring that he was not going to find anywhere more ideal than this, he pushed the door open and stepped in with caution.

The cornerclub was quiet, with only a few punters sitting around tables or standing in the corners of the room, deep in conversation. A Dunmer stood organising a collection of bottles behind the counter, while an Argonian sat at the bar nursing a drink of his own. Fahjoth approached, plonked himself onto a stool near to the Argonian, and offered him a smile of greeting. The Argonian, who had seemed quite tense as Fahjoth sat down, suddenly relaxed and gave Fahjoth a polite smile in return.

“Can I have a mazte, please?” he asked the barman, reaching into his pocket for his coin purse. “Oh, and how much would a room be for the night for two people?”

“That’ll be twenty drakes for the room, sera,” the barman replied, pushing a bottle of mazte towards Fahjoth. “And ten for the mazte.”

“Oh, alright, cheers! I’ll take it then,” Fahjoth replied, handing over the coins with relief. He caught the Argonian’s eye and chuckled, a wry grin curling the corner of his mouth. “Ribyna reckoned it’d be more expensive than that.”

“Ribyna?” the Argonian questioned.

“Ah, that’s my twin! She’s off doing... something,” Fahjoth answered, his voice trailing off thoughtfully as a mild frown settled on his face. “I’m not sure what. She wouldn’t say.”

“I see. That sounds rather sinister.” The Argonian smirked. “Forgive me, but I don’t believe we’ve met.”

Fahjoth couldn’t hold back an awkward giggle. “You’re right, sorry. My name’s Fahjoth,” he said, holding his hand out, which the Argonian shook after a brief pause.

“Huleeya,” he introduced himself, withdrawing his hand and taking a sip of his drink. “Well, I can’t blame your twin for being secretive. Not with this recent spate of attacks on outlanders.”

Fahjoth’s smile slipped from his face. “Attacks?”

“Oh, yes.” Huleeya nodded gravely. “Not just attacks, but murders. Five outlanders have been found dead this week. Not only that, but two Ordinators have been found dead too. Killed in the same way — that is, with their throats slit.”

“Gods alive... Do they know who’s doing it?”

“If they knew, they would have been caught already,” Huleeya replied. “The Justice Offices are looking for help in catching the killer, from what I’ve heard.”

Fahjoth paused. Though this had given him a lot to think about, there was something else he wanted to ask. “Is that why you looked a bit...” — he gestured vaguely with a wave of his hand — “on edge when I came over?”

“Hm? Ah, no. It’s not that,” Huleeya said. “It just wouldn’t be the first time I’ve had trouble from the local Dunmer, that’s all.”

“What do you—?”

“Excuse me, outlander. I should get going.” Huleeya finished the remainder of his drink and stood up. “It was a pleasure to meet you, Fahjoth. You and your twin should be careful if you’re out wandering alone at night.”

“Ah... we will. Thanks, mate,” Fahjoth answered, watching as Huleeya said his farewells to the barkeep and took his leave. Once again, Fahjoth was left alone with his thoughts, and he began to get some very dangerous thoughts indeed.

The Justice Offices are looking for help in catching the killer...

He bit his lip as he nursed his mazte, quietly wrestling with his own brain. To think that he would be able to go up against a serial killer who had slain two highly trained Ordinators was madness, and yet...

By the time he had drained the last of his mazte from the bottle, he had made his decision. Fahjoth stood up, trying to ignore the creeping feeling of foreboding, dropped off his supplies in his rented room and headed outside into the fresh night air once more.

——————————————

The Office of the Watch was much further away than Fahjoth had anticipated, and by the time he arrived, his legs — which had been trembling with nerves — were heavy and aching from weariness, which didn’t bode well for what he had to do. It had been a very long day already, and more than anything Fahjoth was craving a nice warm bed to fall into, but he’d come all this way. There was no going back now.

After navigating the Hall of Justice — with some difficulty, assuaged only slightly by the directions given to him from irate Ordinators on patrol — Fahjoth eventually found himself at the doors of the Office of the Watch, which he knocked gently and waited to be given permission to enter.

Peering around the door, Fahjoth was faced with a rather small and cluttered office inhabited by three Dunmer in the usual golden cuirass and boots, who were sitting at messy desks and perusing sheaves of parchment. One of them, a dark-haired Mer with a moustache and goatee, eyed Fahjoth as he crossed the threshold, the heavy bags under his eyes indicative of his tiredness.

“Can I help you?” he asked, his voice hoarse. “We’re very busy, as you can see.”

“Sorry to bother you,” Fahjoth apologised, “but I’m looking for an Elam Andas?”

“Yes, that’s me. I am Elam Andas, chief of Vivec's Order of the Watch. Are you here looking for work?”

Fahjoth bit his lip, knowing full well that this was his last chance to back out of his foolish and potentially suicidal mission, but he ploughed on anyway. “I heard you were looking for help solving these recent murders.”

The effect his words had on the office was startling. The officers stopped what they were doing, each of them fixing their red eyes on Fahjoth with dubious expressions. Fahjoth remained silent until Andas spoke again.

“We cannot officially hire you as only Ordinators can serve the watch,” he explained. “But if you can find this killer and bring them to justice, we’ll see to it that you’re rewarded for your efforts.”

Bring them to justice? Now that was something Fahjoth was sure was well above his pay grade. He had been hoping to do a bit of investigation, to help the Watch with their search, but to be tasked with bringing down a serial killer himself? That wasn’t something he was at all confident he could handle.

“Oh, I—” he started in alarm, but Andas cut him off.

“I require no commitment from you,” Andas informed him. “In fact, I can’t even officially accept one. But if you’re serious about helping, I can tell you what we know so far about the killer and the victims.”

After a moment of hesitation, Fahjoth nodded, and Andas gestured to the seat across his desk. Fahjoth obeyed, sitting and listening in silence.

“There have been seven victims so far, five outlanders and two Ordinators, and all with their throats slit. Three of the victims were found in the Foreign Quarter, one near the Arena and one in the Hlaalu Compound. None of the outlanders had been on Vvardenfell for more than a week.

“Our Ordinators were found near the body in the Hlaalu Compound, and we think they interrupted the killer at work. Despite the fact that they were armed and on duty, their weapons were still in their sheaths when their bodies were found, which is unsettling. We’re likely looking at someone incredibly stealthy, or adept at illusion magic.”

It was times like this that Fahjoth dearly wished he could read and write. At least then he would have been able to make notes.

“Finally... there is the matter of witnesses. We’ve had no official witnesses come forward, but one outlander reported being threatened by a Dunmer woman with a dagger in the Hlaalu Compound, around the time of the other murders. He couldn’t give us a very clear description as he teleported himself away to safety, but he told us she was wearing a skirt and netch leather armour.”

Fahjoth nodded, frowning as he tried to absorb all of this information, all the while his heartbeat had quickened uncomfortably with apprehension. Without further ado, he stood and excused himself from the office, heading back outside and into the late night’s chilly grip.

Hearing about the victims, as well as Huleeya’s dire warning, had strengthened Fahjoth’s resolve. Someone was lurking in the shadows of Vivec City, slaughtering innocent people seemingly purely because of their foreign origins. People just like him.

His years spent away from Morrowind had left him as good as an outlander in the eyes of the native Dunmer, and if someone considered that fact alone a trait punishable by death, then they couldn’t be allowed to continue to walk free. Someone needed to deal with them, and if the city’s Ordinators couldn’t — or wouldn’t — then perhaps it would be up to him.

Although... it would probably be a good idea to find Ribyna first, Fahjoth figured as he set off towards the city’s northernmost cantons, before he went blundering headfirst to his potential death. Again.

The path ahead was dark and unsettling, and Fahjoth found himself throwing anxious glances over his shoulder every few minutes, flinching at the slightest unexpected sound and eyeing every shadow with mistrust lest he be ambushed by a dagger-wielding, skirt-donning Dunmer intent on ending his life. It was with relief that he made it to the first of his destinations and, incidentally, the last place he had seen Ribyna heading towards — the Arena.

——————————————

Unfortunately for Fahjoth, Ribyna was nowhere to be seen, so he lingered around the Arena for long enough to do some investigating, inquiring with a few inhabitants and Ordinators but turning up no new leads. Eventually he was forced to resign himself to the fact that he would be a lone worker in this case — a thought that inspired a well of dread in his gut — and moved on.

The same was to be said with the Hlaalu Compound, where Fahjoth had checked in the hope that someone would have seen something about the attempted attack, but he had no luck there either. He then moved on to the Foreign Quarter where, to his surprise, an Orc was happy to assist.

“I recall someone — maybe one of the sewer cleaners — saying something about seeing a Dunmer woman down in the Underworks. Wouldn’t be that odd, but... in the Underworks? That’s odd. Nothing down there but rats and sewers.”

Which led Fahjoth to his next point of investigation — the Underworks.

——————————————

The moment he stepped foot in the Underworks, the smell hit him like a brick to the face. Almost choking on the pungent stench of sewage water, Fahjoth lingered for just long enough to feel just a little more regret before he set off, trying to forget the misgivings he felt. He yanked his scarf up to cover his nose and mouth and navigated the Underworks as carefully as he could, every footstep deliberately placed to be as quiet as possible. He was well aware that the killer could be lurking around any corner, and the deeper he tread into the sewers the more he felt his legs begin to tremble.

It was almost silent down here, the only sounds being that of the murky water sloshing against the smooth stone sewer walls and the occasional drip of moisture from the damp-ridden ceiling. Every so often he would hear a rat scuttling around in the darkness and his heart would jolt, requiring him to take a moment to stop and let his adrenaline levels fall after an unpleasant spike that set his pulse racing.

As he progressed, however, more unpleasant thoughts began to surface in his mind. One possibility kept presenting itself to him, and as hard as he tried to reject it, he found that he couldn’t wholeheartedly dismiss it.

“What are you doing, anyway?”

“Just... stuff.”

He remembered that strange look on Ribyna’s face when he mentioned going to Vivec City. He could tell easily when his twin was apprehensive, and as brief as it was, it had been only too clear to see on her face back in Balmora. Was she nervous about returning to the scene of the crime?

But that was ridiculous! His twin wasn’t a murderer!

What reason would she have to kill outlanders, anyway? The more Fahjoth thought about it, the more illogical it seemed. Least of all because he had never even seen Ribyna wear a skirt for as long as he could remember. So why couldn’t he simply disregard it? The fact that he even had doubts in the first place said enough, and he was even more nervous as he crept through the tunnels, dreading the possibility of seeing his twin around the next bend.

So wrapped up was he in his own thoughts that as Fahjoth rounded a corner and exited a smaller tunnel into a larger section of the sewers, he didn’t even notice the figure standing at the end of the tunnel until he was looking straight at them. With a choked gasp, he flung himself back around the corner from which he had just emerged and pressed himself against the wall, his heart pounding in his chest and his stomach tied up in knots. After pausing to listen for any sign of the stranger’s approach, he deemed it safe enough to peer around the wall again and get a better look at the figure ahead.

Even in the low light, he could tell that it was a Dunmer, and they were indeed wearing a skirt with what seemed to be a leather cuirass. This particular corner of the sewer almost looked like a base, with a scruffy bedroll laying on the ground near evidence of where a makeshift fireplace had been lit in the form of a charred mound of wood scraps. A pile of dilapidated crates and debris were strewn haphazardly around the alcove, in some cases holding — or failing to hold — contents like food and bottles of alcohol. Evidently, this was someone who had stocked up for some time.

Fortunately, she hadn’t noticed Fahjoth yet. She sat atop one of the crates, perusing some sort of book or journal and occasionally making notes. A dagger — stained an ominous rusty hue — sat by her side, and Fahjoth’s suspicions were all but confirmed.

How was he going to do this?

He could call it a day, back out quietly the way he came and return to the Office of the Watch with what he knew of the killer’s whereabouts. But even then, would anything get done? Would the Ordinators get here in time before the killer made another move, and claimed another victim?

Perhaps if he could sneak up behind her, he could get the advantage. He knew better than anyone that he was no master of stealth, but she looked fairly preoccupied. Perhaps if he was quiet and quick, then—

No sooner had the thought crossed his mind did he become aware of a weight suddenly pulling vigorously on his foot. As he looked down, he silently squirmed and grimaced at the sight of a large rat digging its teeth into the chitin, shaking its head as if determined to pull his boot clean off. It made no noise other than a soft, squeaky growl, but the splashing of the water beneath its paws was unsettlingly loud and echoed due to the circular tunnel’s acoustics. If this kept up, it was only a matter of time before the killer would notice him.

“Get off!” Fahjoth hissed, frantically shaking his foot. “Get off! Get off, you little c—!”

Unfortunately, the rat refused to budge. It was dragged along in the wake of Fahjoth’s mild kicks, which gradually grew more and more vigorous as he fought to free his foot of the rat’s vice-like grip. Leaning on the wall for balance, he raised his foot up off the ground, now aggressively kicking at the air when all prior attempts at gently shaking the rat off failed. The situation would have been comical had Fahjoth not been so painfully conscious of the murderer sitting barely 20 yards away from where he stood.

At last, after what felt like hours, the rat let go. However, the momentum given to it by Fahjoth’s kicking motion caused it to gracefully soar away as it was flung off his foot and land with a tremendous splash in the deep sewer water in front of him.

Instantly, Fahjoth froze. He pressed himself back against the wall, his breathing fast and laboured as he strained his ears for any sign of movement. Apart from the splashing of the rat as it swam away, apparently done with terrorising Fahjoth for the time being, all was silent. Then, as he dared to peek around the corner to evaluate the situation, a pair of red eyes stared into his own as he made direct eye contact with the Dunmer.

Her reaction was instant. She leapt up from her seat, dagger in hand, and stormed the length of the tunnel towards him, already screaming abuse and profanities in his direction. Kicking hard off the ground, Fahjoth threw himself into motion, and with the Dunmer hurtling closer his options for where to go were limited. A brown and grey blur in his peripheral as he passed indicated that the Dunmer was giving chase, but with the advantage of having longer legs, Fahjoth half-sprinted and half-leapt over a nearby bridge spanning the sewer water before pelting down to the tunnel’s end. Whirling around once he came to a stop, the Dunmer was mere seconds behind him, so Fahjoth drew his sword and stood fast.

Wielding a dagger which seemed to emanate a sickly red glow, his opponent lunged, landing a glancing blow against Fahjoth’s armour as he leapt back. But she was much faster than he had anticipated. He stumbled back and threw himself from side to side to avoid the Dunmer’s aggressive strategy of repeated jabs and slashes, breaking into a sweat and feeling his flanks ache with every shallow pant. One thrust of the dagger slid between the gap in the chitin protecting his arm, slicing through the sleeve and nicking the skin beneath.

With a gasp, Fahjoth flung himself backwards. There was a dull thud as his heel collided with something on the ground and his balance was completely thrown off.

His stomach lurched as he began a sharp descent, hitting the ground with a painful bump. The scraping and groans of the crates he fell against rang in his ears as the Dunmer was suddenly filling his vision, dagger poised ready to plunge into his throat.

With his sword arm raised in a vague attempt to defend himself, Fahjoth reached to the side, grasping at nothingness in a frantic search for something, anything, that could—

The cold sliminess of damp wood brushed against his fingertips. He fastened his grip, braced himself and flung the broken chunk at his assailant with as much force as he could muster.

The jagged lump of wood, a deadly weapon in its own right in the right circumstances, struck the Dunmer square in the face. She staggered back with a howl of pain, clutching her eye while blood seeped from a fresh injury above her brow. With adrenaline coursing through him, Fahjoth sprung to his feet, clutching the hilt of his sword with fingers now damp from his own blood.

The Dunmer lifted her gaze to Fahjoth again, her uninjured eye blazing with a chilling hatred, but before she could make another move Fahjoth had sprung. He rushed forward and thrust his sword into the Dunmer’s midriff, the tip of the blade piercing the thin, aged leather of her armour with surprising ease. Then he continued pushing forward, until his sword had been buried up to its hilt into her stomach and protruded out from her navel.

The Dunmer froze, paralysed by the deadly blow, and Fahjoth relinquished his weapon and backed off, unable to do anything else but stare as she staggered to the side and fell. A sharp clang announced her collision to the ground as the sword’s blade hit the ground first, but once her momentum stopped and she lay still, total silence fell upon them.

Silence, apart from the sound of Fahjoth’s ragged breathing.

As he stared down at the lifeless Dunmer on the ground before him, Fahjoth only became conscious of how badly his legs were shaking when he tried to take a step forward and his knees almost buckled beneath his weight. Only one thought circled in his mind, over and over, as he silently watched the blood starting to ooze out from beneath her body.

He had done this.

Someone was dead because of him.

The more logical part of his brain insisted that if he hadn’t, it would have been him lying there in a pool of his own blood instead. But that didn’t make him feel much better about the fact that he had just taken someone’s life.

There was a part of him that didn’t even want to approach the body to retrieve his shortsword, but at the end of the day, he had paid good money for that. And it wasn’t as if he had a backup. So with a trembling hand he grasped the hilt, slowly prising the sword out of the Dunmer’s body and wincing at the sickening sound of the blade gliding against flesh, squelching and wet. He cleaned the metal as best he could using linen from the makeshift bed, then sheathed his weapon and reluctantly searched the camp for evidence to present to Elam Andas.

He didn’t find much of any substance. The journal the Dunmer had been reading was, of course, impossible for him to read. Quite apart from not finding any sense in the words, it was damp and smudged terribly to the point where it was barely legible. Still, perhaps the Office of the Watch would have better luck; he took it, along with an old rusty key and the Dunmer’s dagger, which left him feeling oddly nauseous and drained after his fingertips came into direct contact with it.

The damp stickiness of blood on his arm and staining his sleeve was impossible to ignore, as was the injury beneath it, so Fahjoth took a moment to attempt to heal it on his own. With the spell he had acquired from the Mages Guild in mind, Fahjoth closed his eyes and furrowed his brows in concentration; he racked every corner of his brain, searching for any spark that could ignite the spell that he could feel hesitating at his fingertips. But in his already worn-out state, the attempts only ended up draining yet more of his energy and left him with a considerable headache. In the end he conceded and admitted defeat, recognising a lost cause when he saw one.

Then Fahjoth embarked on the long walk back to the Hall of Justice, craving fresh air and a warm bed above all else. It hadn’t quite sunk in yet that he had successfully taken on a serial killer and lived to tell the tale, but there was an odd light-heartedness in his chest as he traipsed back along the paths through Vivec City’s shadowy cantons, feeling somehow more confident than before.

——————————————

Fahjoth’s triumphant — albeit exhausted and bloodied — return to the Office of the Watch was met with disbelief at first, followed by amazement once he broke the news that the killer had been dealt with. Elam Andas was thrilled and accepted the dagger and journal as evidence without question, perhaps a sign of how desperate he was to believe that this Dunmer was no longer a threat. After expressing his gratitude he sent Fahjoth on his way, with a promise that Ordinators would be sent to clean up the mess and the reward of an enchanted belt to protect him on his travels, which Fahjoth accepted eagerly. Although he was pleased with the response to his daring deed, he was now more than ever looking forward to collapsing into bed after a very, very long day.

With thoughts of only soft pillows and warm sheets on his mind as he entered the familiarity of the Foreign Quarter, it wasn’t until he came face-to-face with someone approaching the hallway to the cornerclub from the opposite way that he realised he had forgotten something — or rather, someone.

“Ribyna!” Fahjoth exclaimed, recognising his sibling even from a distance. But something was wrong. There was no wave or call of greeting from Ribyna, who walked silently over to him with a pronounced limp in her step.

“Ribyna?”

In the light of the torch that hung from the nearby wall, Fahjoth could see that Ribyna was in a dreadful state. Her armour was scuffed and damaged in places and her hair was a mess, but most worryingly was the copious amount of bloodstains that spattered and smeared her almost from head to foot.

“Ribyna!” Fahjoth gasped, rushing over to meet her and instantly beginning to fuss. “What the hell happened?! Are you okay?!”

“I’m fine,” Ribyna grunted, making a half-hearted attempt to push Fahjoth away.

“You’re covered in blood!”

“It’s fine. It’s not my blood.” Ribyna paused to wince, doubling over slightly and gritting her teeth. “Most of it...”

Before Fahjoth could question her further, they were interrupted by the rapid approach of an Ordinator, his sword drawn and raised at Ribyna threateningly.

“Halt!” he barked. “Murderous scum! You violated the law, outlander. Surrender and come with me immediately.”

Fahjoth's mouth fell open with horror. Murderous? Surely there had to be some kind of mistake...

However, Ribyna's silence was not encouraging. Instead of protesting her innocence, she reached into a pocket and tugged out a somewhat bloodstained roll of parchment, which she passed over to the guard without a word. To Fahjoth's astonishment, once he had finished reading it, he nodded and tucked the note away in his own armour.

“All of your papers seem to be in order,” he said, dipping his head to Ribyna. “You are free to go.”

And then he walked away, leaving Fahjoth utterly bemused as he stared at his still very quiet twin.

“Are you gonna tell me what the hell just happened?” he questioned, and Ribyna huffed.

"In a sec. Let's get inside first," she muttered, slipping away into the cornerclub without waiting for a response. Fahjoth, left with little choice, followed her in and then led the way to their room. The moment he opened the door, Ribyna pushed past him and dropped down onto the bed with a groan — much to Fahjoth's displeasure, as he had been hoping to do this exact thing first.

“Well?” he prompted, lowering himself into a nearby chair and slouching back, relishing the chance to take the weight off his sore feet for a while. “What was that guard on about, calling you ‘murderous scum’?”

It was a moment or two before Ribyna dragged herself upright again and turned her gaze to Fahjoth.

“I joined the Morag Tong.”

Fahjoth, who had been in the process of removing his boots, froze motionless as he felt his blood run cold. “You what?!” he hissed, once he found his voice again. “You’ve— what?!”

“Yeah.” Ribyna’s tone was level as she stared back at Fahjoth, looking more tired than defensive. “Don’t start, alright? I’m knackered.”

“Don’t st—?!” Fahjoth bolted upright, keeping his voice hushed as best he could but fighting to quash the outrage that burned in his chest. “You’ve gone and joined a murder cult and you’re telling me to not start?!”

“It’s not a murder cult!” Ribyna protested. “It’s perfectly legal!”

“Just because it’s legal, doesn’t mean it’s not a—” Fahjoth stopped mid-rant, rubbing his eyes with exasperation. “Just... Ugh, what have you gone and done that for? Can’t you just do something... normal?! Like... I dunno, go join the Fighters Guild if you really wanna stab things!”

“No.” She slouched down, looking suddenly more tired than ever. “Look, maybe I’m fed up of being treated like the shit on everyone’s shoes, alright? Maybe I just... wanted a bit of respect for once.”

Fahjoth faltered, experiencing a flicker of sympathy for his twin. He knew that feeling all too well. “Beebs, you don’t need to become a murderer to be respected.”

“I was already a murderer,” Ribyna pointed out bluntly. Fahjoth felt a twist in his gut, memories from that horrendous day threatening to resurface in his mind. “At least this way I can get paid for it.”

Fahjoth paused, struggling to find an argument and fighting to put into words exactly how he felt about Ribyna’s new career choice. Eventually, he heaved a sigh. “But... it can’t be safe. Look, you’re injured! I’m... I’m worried about you, Ribyna.”

“Well, don’t be. Turns out I’m half-decent at killing people.” Naturally, Ribyna’s answer didn’t reassure Fahjoth in the slightest, but she ploughed on anyway with a change of subject. “Anyway, what about you? What have you been up to?” Now that she was evaluating Fahjoth properly, her eyes soon fell on the bloodstains that still blemished his clothes and armour. “Is that blood?!”

“Yeah... and this time, it is mine. Honestly, you won’t believe the day I’ve had, Beebs,” Fahjoth said, before he began to regale the whole story; meeting Huleeya, learning about the outlander killings, going to the Office of the Watch, venturing into the Underworks...

By the time he had finished, Ribyna was staring at him with an incredulous look on her face.

“Hang on,” she started, “you killed someone and you’re having a go at me for joining the Morag Tong? Hypocrite, much!”

“I— but— what?!” Fahjoth spluttered, affronted. “Th-that’s different! I’m not an assassin, I was stopping a serial killer—”

But he promptly shut his mouth once he noticed the wry grin curling at the corners of Ribyna’s lips.

“I’m only messing,” she chortled, her smirk quickly becoming a proud smile. “Holy shit, that’s amazing, Fahji. Shame they didn’t pay you for it, mind.”

“I don’t mind,” Fahjoth replied honestly, calming down again. “I’m just glad she can’t hurt anyone else.” He paused, feeling heat rising in his face as he prepared himself to confess to something. “Honestly for a little while, I was worried that the killer was gonna be you.”

Ribyna promptly cocked a brow. “You fucking donkey, why would I go around killing outlanders? I am an outlander!”

“I was just freaking out!” Fahjoth protested. “I was tired, and nervous, and you’d been acting proper shifty, and— well, I obviously wasn’t that far off, was I? Might not’ve been outlanders, but you were planning on killing people after all!”

Ribyna rolled her eyes, busying herself with removing her own armour. “Yeah yeah, alright, you’ve already said your piece. Come on, let’s get cleaned up and get some sleep. I’m absolutely wrecked.”

Though he still had plenty more to say on the matter, Fahjoth agreed, for both their sakes. He was looking forward to crashing just as much as Ribyna was, and once they had finished helping each other tend to their injuries and settled down for the night, Fahjoth was asleep almost as soon as his head had hit the pillows.

—————————————————————————————

tag list @boulderfall-cave , @padomaicocean (lmk if you’d like to be added!)

#oc: fahjoth #oc: ribyna #tes #tes fic #morrowind #dunmer #dunmer oc #nerevarine #elder scrolls #elder scrolls fanfic #TES III: Morrowind

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feistypaants-archived · 4 years

Text

Between The Pipes [Chapter 29]

Rating: M Words: 2341 Pairing: Kristanna Summary: When a new owner takes over the Arendelle Ice Breakers, Kristoff isn’t sure about his future with the team. That is, until a PR nightmare throws the newest member of the media team, who also just so happens to be the daughter of the new owner, right into his arms. Kristoff and Anna can’t even stand the interviews they have to do together… how on earth are they going to fix this mess? Hockey!AU.

[Chapter Index]

Where To Read: [AO3]

Notes: Something amazing happens.

So so so so so so many that it's close to infinite thank you's to @xmjcx for helping me with this chapter. Her wisdom got me over a roadblock I couldn't figure out my way around, so, yeah. I'm just forever grateful. (hopefully this butters her up enough that she's not mad at me for posting it while she's asleep whoops)

Enjoy!

Kristoff had insisted, after their long-running burger dinner, that either she should come to his, or let him come to hers. But Anna had smiled and shook her head, promising that she just had a very bad headache and wanted nothing more than to go to bed.

“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?” He stroked a nervous thumb over the back of her hand before she leapt out of his truck.

No kiss.

“I know,” she smiled again, but it still wasn’t reaching her eyes.

Anna waved and left him sitting alone, worried and upset, as he watched her shoulders sag as she made her way up the stairs. He hoped maybe some sleep would help.

But then she didn’t show up the next day. To be fair, she didn’t really have any work to do when there wasn’t a game - she just usually came to watch practice and hang out afterwards - but it was strange nonetheless.

He had texted her as soon as he got off the ice.

Want me to come over tonight? I’ll bring dinner? Chinese?

aww, you’re sweet. im just not feeling well. maybe tomorrow?

All right… let me know.

of course!

He didn’t even hear from her for another day after that.

She came in on Thursday for a game against St. Louis, and Kristoff took note of the caked makeup over her dark, puffy under eyes. “Hi, baby,” he tried, letting out a heavy sigh of relief when she immediately stepped into his outstretched arms and pressed her nose into his shoulder. “Feeling better?”

Her head shook a firm no against him, but he wasn’t going to push it. Kristoff was just thankful she was _here _and responding to him.

“I’m here,” he breathed into her hair. “Whatever you need.”

He swore he felt her sob against him.

She powered through the night, interviews were jovial and upbeat as she made jokes and teased and talked through play-by-plays with some of his teammates. You could barely even see how much makeup she was wearing on camera - Ryder had been picking flattering angles and lighting.

They had won, she had hugged him, and even kissed him once more.

But she still drove home alone afterwards.

“Man…”

Kristoff turned around in the parking lot, surprised to see Honeymaren walking out behind him. “Real shame, huh?” He felt his eyebrows furrow as she looked down into her bag. Did she know? “I know, I know, I’m not supposed to know but,” she shrugged and smiled sadly up at him. “Her sister has loose lips.”

He nodded once, hoping she would continue. Thank god she wasn’t so tight with secrets either. “Just… God their father is the worst, right? I can’t believe that he just fired her like that.”

His heart was hammering in his throat as she kept talking.

“You’d think, you know... that’s his kid, right? Give them the benefit of the doubt?” She was shaking her head now. “Apparently he called her all sorts of…” She sighed into a groan and she practically shivered. “Just… horrible.”

Kristoff gave her about thirty seconds to continue before he blurted out a quiet “why?” He ignored how her eyes widened. “Why did he fire her?”

Honey looked shocked now. “She… Anna hasn’t told you?”

He could feel his eyes fluttering slightly as he shook his head. “No…”

“Oh, um…”

Regret was radiating off of her in waves. She had said too much, he knew she thought it, but… He understood, now. No one wants to be fired - much less by their own parent - not to mention, Kristoff genuinely couldn’t think of a single thing Anna could have possibly done wrong. She was a great employee, and a great on-air personality… But he still didn’t understand why she wasn’t telling him.

Unless…

His shoulders slumped. “Was it… because of me? Because,” he stuttered for a moment, gripping the strap of his duffel. “Because she was dating me?”

“Oh, god,” Honey cringed, pressing a palm against her forehead. “I… I think you should talk to her. I… shit. I’m sorry.” He watched her cheeks darken as she turned to head back to her car. “I… god, I thought you would’ve known.”

He nodded once, curt and hardly there, as she climbed into her drivers’ side. “Me, too,” he mumbled, before she shut the door.

—

One more day passed before he heard the personalized Disney ringtone she had set on his phone - because you said I was pretty enough to be a princess, remember? - and Kristoff was almost embarrassed at how he dove for his phone. “Anna?”

“Wanna come over?” She sounded so shy, and he wasn’t quite sure what to make of it. “I’ll order pizza.”

“Of course, give me a few minutes.”

She hung up almost immediately and he definitely broke a few speed limits getting to her as quickly as he possibly could. And, as if she heard his truck, or his heavy footsteps, or even his panting for air as he sprinted up the staircase, her front door swung open just as he lifted his hand to knock.

“Hi --”

“No talking.” Anna threw her arms around his neck and led him quickly into the apartment, kissing him deeply as they stumbled over her haphazard piles of belongings. It was only a short walk before he recognized the distinct smell of her perfume that was strongest in the bedroom.

Fuck, he knew they needed to talk, he knew she needed to tell him, or that he needed to tell her, but she was so warm and giving and he had missed her so much. Then suddenly, a moment of clarity as she threw herself down on the bed, fingers tangled in his t-shirt, moving with enough force to pull them apart for just a moment as he locked his arms on either side of her. “Hang on, wait, Anna… We really should--”

Her hand clasped over his mouth. “I said no talking.”

Kristoff blinked a couple times in surprise, eyes scanning over her face. Her nose and cheeks were red, eyes dark and wet, and she had still fucking been crying. But… would this make her feel better? Could he risk turning her down and her kicking him out? She was in control of this whole situation, and if this was what she wanted…

God, no.

No, it wouldn’t help. He knew her well enough by now to know that for sure, didn’t he?

Turning his head enough to slip her hand from his lips, Kristoff twisted his hips so that he was sitting beside her now on the bed, resting one of his hands on her forearm and squeezing reassuringly. “Anna…”

Her cheeks were red, now with embarrassment, as he rubbed his thumb back and forth over her skin. “Honeymaren, uh… She told me what happened.”

There was a mixture of confusion and anger and relief washing over her features as she seemed to be puzzling over which one to allow to the forefront. He blew out one breath of air, and had to close his eyes when he heard one heavy sob escape from her throat. “She… what?”

“Not…” He stroked his fingers up her arm to rest below her shoulder, doing his best to reassure her. “Not everything, I don’t think. Just…” She sat up, forcing his hand to leave her arm and settle on her leg. “That he fired you.”

His eyes dragged over the slight swell of her throat as she swallowed before darting back up to her downcast eyes. Kristoff only hesitated for a moment before he scooted a little closer, now hip to hip, and nudged her with his shoulder. “Anna…” She looked up at him, eyes red and puffy, and he tried his best to give her a soft smile. “You can tell me as much -- or as little -- as you want. I’m here. Just… let me know what you need.”

She blinked away a few tears, sniffled once, and then laid her head against his shoulder.

“He…” Another sniffle. “He was never told that our… how we started…” He couldn’t see her face, but he could almost picture her lip caught between her teeth as she struggled for the words. “He didn’t know it was fake. And… I guess someone told him…”

Warren. That scumbag Warren told him. But how the hell did he even know?”

“So… now I’m a big liar.” Her hands came to grasp at his as he flipped his palm up on her thigh, and she let out a small sigh as she started playing with his fingers. “I guess it just… confirmed his suspicions about me - about…” Anna’s head shook against his shoulder and he nodded, letting it go. It was something she wasn’t ready to reveal yet, and he would respect that.

“Anyway, I guess he said… it wasn’t worth the potential scandal?” He could tell it was easier when she wasn’t looking at him. “If everything came to light… About how I got the job, about the… PR stuff… I think he said I wasn’t good enough at it to justify it… I don’t really know,” she laughed lightly, bitterly, as she squeezed at his fingers, and he tried his best not to let the rage bubbling in his stomach boil over. “I kind of blacked out a bit, I think. But… After the All-Star break, I’m… done.”

Kristoff turned his head to press his lips softly against her hair before settling his cheek against her head once more. “Your father is making a huge mistake. It’s going to be a big loss, you not gracing everyone’s screens anymore.”

Anna laughed, quietly but genuinely this time, and he brought his other arm to settle around her hips. “I’m not kidding, really.” He could feel her turn her nose in to nuzzle against his throat. “Listen, I’ve… seen a lot of interviewers and worked with a lot of interviewers, and you have this very, very natural charisma about you. You get even the most resistant guys to talk.” He vaguely lifted their joined hands to gesture at himself.

“You hardly wanted anything to do with me, if you want to remember correctly.”

“Yeah, well,” he grinned, pinching at the curve of her hip and soaking in the soft sound of her laughter. “That’s what I’m saying. You’re so good at getting people to open up and talk. That’s a skill few possess.”

He wanted so badly to look at her, but Kristoff wouldn’t risk moving if she felt safe here. “And, god, you’re so smart, Anna.”

A meek “I am?”

“Of course! Fuck, you learned the ins and outs of hockey in a matter of weeks.” He felt her tensing against him. “I swear, you asked questions that even made us impressed. You saw things sometimes that even _I _missed on the ice.”

“No I didn’t.”

He did pull back then, turning on the bed to face her as he lifted his hands up to her shoulders, pressing firm palms against her. “You did. Anna…” Her eyes rose to meet his and he couldn’t help but smile. “You’re amazing. You’re kind and funny and smart and brave -- you took a job you knew nothing about in a new city and you proved that you could do it. You stood up to people who said you couldn’t -”

“... Like you.”

“... Like me.”

There was a smile on her face and a light in her eyes that Kristoff had been so desperately missing. “You’re… you’re brilliant, and you’ll have no problems getting up from this. And…” He leaned a little closer as his hands dragged down her skin to clasp her fingers in his, holding them tightly between their chests. “I believe in you, so much. Whatever I can do to help, whatever you need. I’m your guy.”

Anna’s whole body shifted with the deep breath she took in and released, as her eyelids fluttered and she bit at her lip. He wanted to kiss her, but first he wanted to make sure she was okay.

“I have no doubt that you’ll come back from this better than ever. Whatever job you find after this.” Blue eyes rose to meet his, and he felt a warmth growing in his chest. All he wanted from this day forward was for her to be so happy, no matter how that came to be. “What can I do?”

She slid her hands out from his and reached forward to stroke soft thumbs over his cheekbones. “You’re already doing it.” Moving to kneel, Anna shifted forward on the bed to settle between his thighs. “Thank you,” she hummed, before pressing her lips against his. It was chaste and soft and slow, and Kristoff felt his lips stretching into a smile under hers.

“Anytime,” he murmured, lifting his hands to rest on her hips.

It was different this time as she kissed him. It was different as she wrapped her arms around his neck. And it was different as she looked at him, something new and exciting and raw in her eyes, before laying back and encouraging him to join her.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes. I…” Her eyes darted across his face, and she reached one hand up to cup his jaw. “I want to.”

“Not…” He had to make sure. “Not like before, right? Not just to escape?”

Anna smiled, and shook her head. “No. I just… want to be with you right now.” Her plush bottom lip was caught between her teeth again as she stroked her thumb across his skin. “I… I think I’ve realized something.”

He nodded, bracing his weight on his elbows as he leaned down to continue.

And finally, it was so, so different, the way they moved together, softly, slowly, cherishing the moment and the comfort of one another as they found a new rhythm that no longer felt like it used to. It no longer felt like just sex, just benefits, just friends.

It no longer felt like just.

#btpfic #feistypantswrites

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savnofilter · 4 years

Text

answering all anonymous asks

i have a lot of mixed opinions and stuff so i just compiled them into one post. the public ones i will be posting separately, simply because i feel they are different. all responses are under the cut!

tw: mentions of pedophilia and gore.

i am and thank you!! i havent really eaten since tuesday but ive trying to keep my fluids up. i hope you are doing okay as well, anon!

~ i learned about puberty when i was 6 only because my sisters had already learnt it (ages 8). the educational sites used were always catered to helping the youth learn about periods, puberty, and everything that comes along with it. once i was at age 8, i also had access to the sites as well.

~ the idea of sex was brought around to me around 8. at 9 i had an experience but i will not get into it since it’s still slightly traumatic for me. other than having a negative experience with it, i yet again already had an understanding because of my older sister’s and i’s class experiences to have a grasp of it.

i would also like to add that my parent were never prudes. bringing up this point, disclaimer that they havent done anything weird to me or my sister. once i was 11 (in 6th grade), i was learning about sex and reproduction. my mother has always told me if i had any questions about that type of stuff, that i should never be afraid to ask.

if she felt anything was too explicit she would tell me that i didnt have to learn about that right now and that when i am older she would be receptive responding. i honestly think the hate stems from the fact that they dont get dicked down well enough from their own bfs that they have to write the pent up frustration on minor characters.

i mean with the cult running around, yes it is. if you are not in a close circle or have an established following, you will have a much harder time getting your stuff out there. its not impossible but it is much definitely more difficult to start up.

if you need help with getting your work out there i am more than welcome in trying to help you out tho!

THANK. YOU. someone had to fucking say it, couldnt be me since they refuse to listen to me. do you know how predatory in itself trying to control what minors of the same age doing together???? the only time i can see minors getting “arrested” unless it was public indecency. also why are you an adult knowing about 14 y.os getting arrested for sexual intercourse? 🤡

it definitely is safe. the people most active are teenagers so do not feel afraid. if there are any concerns please come to me since i am the original and head of the server.

!!! exactly. her sorry ass callout post about my age and followers LOL. “sorry i have more notes than you” i- i had to laugh. i think its so funny because if this was about followers i wouldve done this earlier, not when i hit 5,000 followers.

^ this. all it took was a gabby hannah callout post about my age cnckjsvd couldnt be me. these people preach about keeping kids safe, the kids of the fandom speak up about an abuse and toxicity problem and suddenly we’re ruining the fandom? pick one or the other pls. 🤡

i just honestly find it concerning that theyre thirsting over a character thats um.... HALF YOUR AGE. fake or not its weird asf. its really not your place to say people shouldnt be uncomfortable because you write them “aged 18+” and the most you age them up to is 18 and still write them in U.A. i dont really understand why its such a hard concept to understand.

i just think its concerning that the same people who think i have no sexual awareness have no problem writing characters my age and the only version that theyre aged up is in their fics.

theres something wrong in this equation here.... 😗

lmao these adults have no problem giving people trauma. and yes, yes, and yes. we arent saying that there is a problem aging them up, its how you do it. its really the fact that theyre aging them up and having them at the dorms and aizawa is still somehow, their homeroom teacher? please make it make sense.

if youre especially going to age up someone and youre about 22+, your excuse is that, “their fake so it shouldnt be a problem” is predatory in all the wrong kind of ways.

^ they hate to see it. but once again they did make this an age thing,,, obviously they only learned about sex when they hit 18, and i have hacked the system and infiltrated adult territory. 🤡

right. people are like 16 y.os cant have sex -- no its in place so adults like you dont think you can fuck them any younger. thats all i have to say. but no, im fifteen, i dont have a brain or any sense of the world. no h*rny card for me.

💀 imagine being old enough to understand that stuff can be triggering and no human should even be saying that... getting those shane dawson gore fantasies here.

“no one is mad at you for writing smut. adults are mad because youre writing smut”

your adults arent mentally sound and this is why im making this post. ❤️

lmao i am okay!! ive been having phantom nerve pain where my knuckles are because of that ask though and i had a gore dream. : ) i spoke clearly and properly, when i took them as a joke (yknow being the clowns that they are), they got mad! 1/10, would not recommend a conversation! apparently shes more mature about me but her last post was about riding a teenager’s forehead cnjk vdfd COULD NOT BE ME. she choose to ignore all the other claims and it shows~ 🍵

i dont really mind, ive been wanting to talk about my age on this blog for a really long time since last but sometimes things come sooner than later. even if you dont support my work, i still thank you for supporting me as a person!

RIGHT?! im just really concerned that there are adults who understand that there are moral issues here and some dont. this is why im making a post on a select few and not the whole adult community. thank you for coming to my TED talk.

LMFAO but they dont see it?! 😂 i think me writing about characters my own age is much better than someone who has 10+ years, or better yet, MORE THAN HALF THEIR AGE writing about them. you had your hormones suppressed, doesnt mean mine should as well. 💓

personally, if i was an adult and i made a callout post on someone’s age, i would put a disclaimer to not bully the minors in question,,, just putting out there. your mature and respectful queen is doing magic. 🥰

^ and let me make it clear, after the point of time i realized that following was 18+ blogs was bad, i stopped following them. and even now im sifting through and unfollowing all of them. yes, i do have a brain at fifteen and can think. i know its a foreign concept for some people. 😳

no no no, its okay! i lied about being an adult so this all my fault. :D just think its concerning someone so easily can say one thing and everyone can follow. real cult behaviour and shes the leader. been thinking about making a mean girls poster and sticking her pfp on regina, but even regina had redemption and realized she had work to do. : )

lmao these people have said, “i started reading/writing smut when i was 11-13 but i realized how wrong it was and stopped” so how does it differ from me? you dont magically get good at 18. dont be a hypocrite.

even adults themselves are afraid to speak up. all it took was a shitty post for them to ignore the whole story. these people ignore all the abuse, therapy, toxicity, pedophilia (umbrella term) and everything else that she and her friends are being brought to light about. it shows how much of a blind eye that people have.

this is not a tati situation, i will not go back on my words.

this is understandable. this is even past the age, and this me repeating myself once again. i wasnt even the one who said i was groomed i- its people who were in your, space. think about that.

it really is. and what makes it more concerning that the same people who preach this will talk about how they want to, “beat us the fuck up” or rip our fingers for showing out concern for the vagueness of aged up in fics sometimes.

i even stated that its not everyone who does this but no one will listen.

#tw gore #tw grooming #sav talks

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gothamdetected-a · 5 years

Text

an idiot’s guide to the wayne family.

now complete with new diagrams! i wish i wash kidding, ive really made a diagram to help illustrate this.

[ follow the link here for actual visible quality. thanks tumblr.]

some points to make quickly -

• this is not complete. there were probably more siblings and wives and children, but i just focused on the main lineage i could piece together from DC knowledge

• apologies for the lack of knowledge on the women in the family past the last century. this is unfortunately common in real life too, as women were not landowners etc, and without a marriage certificate they basically don’t show up on records. dc happily talk about the male line but not about the wives and daughters so :/

• the dates are fairly made up, and especially at the bottom are just me twisting things to fit my own personal canon

• and finally, i just wanted to say that while this is pieced together from what DC have told us, there are a lot of holes that i have filled with headcanons. not all of this is canon. sometimes i just want to give a person a cool life that dc are too cowardly to do.

so, although this varies by “earth”, i have tried to combine the various histories given for pre- and post-52 waynes into a full comprehensible timeline. i’ve probably failed, but this is what i’m sticking with.

to start with we’re supposed to believe that there was a norse guy calling himself the Bat-Man, running around in the 10th century killing frost giants. is it plausible? yes. is it exaggerated? most definitely. am i wiping it from existence because it was one issue in a faintly terrible run that has technically been retconned anyway? absolutely. ignoring that makes the earliest recorded ancestor of the wayne family a man called gawayne de weyne, a french crusader in the 14th century. on some earths he’s called lancelot wayne (too on the nose) or harold wayne (thanks i hate it), so im personally going to retcon that and just say gawayne is it. also because i love the etymological aspect of the name beginning as de weyne in old high french and it slowly changing through out the centuries. gawayne, also sometimes written as gevain, was one of the knights sent to retrieve the holy grail, but, as knights tended to do, he died. sorry gawayne. the weirdest part about all of this is that he asked for his heart to be embalmed, and there’s a plot line revolving around this (batman: scottish connection). now i’m not saying that madness runs in the family, but the waynes absolutely do not get a good head start in history.

gawayne must have had at least one surviving heir who goes on to have babies etc etc, and eventually we get to the 16th century, and the next instance of the waynes. specifically, contarf wayne. which, i have to say, super dumb name. if i ever have a kid, im calling it contarf. so it’s now the 1500s and the waynes have somehow become scottish, probably from getting given land after crusading and that. apparently gawayne was aknight of the scottish court, despite being french, which actually happened a lot back then. literally the only notable thing contarf does with his life is build castle wayne, and i swear these people are all born with both madness and a flair for the dramatic. yes at some point bruce does go to this gloomy scottish castle where it’s always rainy and stormy and fits right on in, so that’s terrifying.

around a hundred years later nathaniel wayne tries to emigrate across to the “new world”. nathaniel likes witchhunting, and has come over to what will one day be the US following a witch fleeing from england - annie. annie who he may have dated. annie who may be pregnant with his child. good on you nathaniel, that’s a healthy relationship you’ve got right there. after the baby is delivered, he finds her and. you know, people were not kind of witches back then, so she dies. and with her dying breath, curses nathaniel and all his descendants. which includes her OWN BABY (super punk move), and one day bruce wayne. this curse manifests in very few of the extant waynes surviving beyond 40, often going mad, and absolutely tuning on each other. nathaniel’s particular grisly end comes when his is the fateful colony that ends up in what-will-one-day-be-gotham (see my idiots guide to gotham for more juicy details), releasing the deacon blackfire from his little cave and ending up missing, presumed dead. (definitely dead). this is the start of the “waynes probably should avoid gotham” saga. spoiler alert - they don’t.

somewhere in the interluding 100 years, a branch of the waynes do actually successfully make it over into the americas. 2 brothers, caleb and thomas simon wayne, reach the east coast from britain, and go their separate ways. caleb joins a convoy heading out west, leading a wagon train, and, as so many pioneers do, he also dies, while trying to make this trip. but caleb really isnt the interesting brother here (sorry man), because what thomas gets up to is far more exciting. he settles in, lo and behold, the newly formed town of gotham, and for some strange reason (probably because all the waynes are fairly nuts, as we’ve established at this point) decides to give devil-worshipping a go. maybe its fucking curse. maybe its something in the water. maybe its maybelline. but whatever it is, thomas wayne tries to summon and ensnare the demon barbatos by killing some innocents, in a wild, but understandable, attempt to gain immortality. he doesn’t succeed. or does he. it half works - instead of summoning the bat-demon (yes the same bat-demon that the founding fathers later summon and also trap beneath gotham) he gets one of darkseid’s hyper-dimensional bounty hunters, and some how, through some space age magic, the energy of this event corrupts him into agelessness/slowed ageing, we’re not totally sure. later dear old tom pops back up as the villainous dr simon hurt, and literally fights his own descendant. DC give no fucks.

after the whole corrupting not-magic thing, but before he disappears, thomas/simon impregnates one of his cult’s disciples. a lot. (is this why the waynes can look 30 at 50? more on this at 10) and between 1747 and 1771 (because immortal people also have immortal sperm apparently), she bears him 3 sons. probably some daughters too but again, who cares about that. not DC, that’s for damn sure. these sons are all absolutely fucking insane, just like daddy dearest. the eldest, who is LITERALLY known as “mad” anthony wayne, is said to be the spitting image of bruce, which is confirmed through some time travelling bs that we’re not going to think about. anthony and horatio wayne, the middle brother, both sign up to fight in the revolutionary war. unfortunately THE CURSE STRIKES AGAIN and horatio perishes while burning british ships. anthony goes on to becomes a brigadier general, serving directly under george washington and pulls some crazy good strategies that help to kick the british out of new jersey, earning his nickname of “mad” anthony, because only someone fucking nuts could come up with these plans, and pull them off. the youngest brother darius wayne is only 4 when the war breaks out, and is therefore too Babey to fight, but does later become notable for being the man to start construction on wayne manor. in 1795, using the money inherited from his brother horatio on his death, he hires an architect nathan van derm, to begin planning and building. sadly darius will never see it completed, with funds dwindling and his older brother’s death, eventually darius takes his own life.

not to worry, he leaves behind 2 sons - herkimer and charles wayne. literally herkimer’s only notable feature is that he fights in the war of 1812. sorry my guy, DC hate you. charles, on the other hand, is a businessman, who manages the failing company his father had left behind and starts to grow the wayne fortune. charles buys more land surrounding the manor, as well as a lot of general gotham real estate, and is the man accrediting for starting wayne enterprises as a series of several small business, ranging from merchant trading to land ownership to mining, in 1845. however charlie contracts tuberculosis at the ripe old age of 62 and shuffles off the mortal coil.

the oldest of his sons, charles lincoln wayne, also known as charles junior, does 2 things - begins construction on the wayne manor again in 1855 after purchasing it back from jerome k. van derm, the destitute son of the original architect, who had been living in the bones of the construcion, and uses a considerable portion of his inheritance to build the gotham botanical gardens in 1870. the next son, winslow wayne, is another enigma - the only thing mentioned about him in the comics is that he fought alongside teddy roosevelt, which i’m guessing is in the spanish-american war. but the youngest two brothers, joshua thomas and solomon zebadiah wayne are the real spicy pair. not only do they tackle the bat infestation on the manor grounds, but the pair work to change the federal system of america - joshua, when he’s not managing the wayne companies, is an abolitionist who engages in secret missions to free slaves by getting them across the border into canada, and solomon, the vaguely more sensible of the two, becomes a judge, attempting to be as fair and incorruptible as possible. sadly joshua is killed due to his slave smuggling antics (THE CURRSSEE), and this sends solomon slightly nuts, and causes him to contract the architect cyrus pinkney, who is even more nuts, to basically. build gotham. these two men are the reason 97% of buildings have gargoyles on them.

solomon has only 1 child before he dies, who fortunately, grows up to be a very shrewd businessman capable of growing wayne ent even through with the advent of shipping and rail sectors. this man, alan wayne, constructs the original wayne tower in 1888, and it completely swamps the gotham skyline. he also marries catherine van derm, the great granddaughter of the original architect of wayne manor, and finally manage to complete and move in to the building in 1895, exactly 100 years after the project was started. for a while they are very happy, and catherine falls pregnant. but this darn curse just won’t leave these wayne boys alone, and in 1897, catherine dies giving birth to their son, kenneth wayne. a year later, lost and traumatised and going insane thinking about his wife’s death alan wayne mysteriously disappears (read as: fell down a well and was maybe or maybe not tortured and killed by the court of owls).

kenneth wayne, raised as virtually an orphan, turns out to have his papa’s business management skills, and, foreseeing america's impending industrialisation in the 20s and 30s, makes some risky moves that pay off, including the advent of wayne chemicals, and wayne ent expands yet again. kenneth, like the recurring pattern that you can see here, dies fairly early due to WW2 however, leaving his wife laura to care for their 4 sons AND the company, which she does like a boss ass bitch. seriously, women barely had the vote and she was already a titan of industry and raising 4 teenage boys like. massive props to you babe. these boys are

ishmael wayne, a whaler who is an incredible parody of captain ahab and also dies trying to catch a white whale, elwood wayne, who goes and reclaims what is now called waynemoor castle in scotland, living there until his death, silas wayne, who may or may not be a thief posing as a wayne because the real silas died, AND at long last, patrick wayne - bruce’s granpappy, who founded the wayne tech arm of the company at 20 years old, aiding the war effort, and where this stupidly long post ends, because there is 0 point in me recounting the lives of thomas, bruce, or any of his children. everyone knows them. could i write more about thomas’ siblings and the kanes and how they tie in? yes. but this post is like 2100 words long and i want to sleep at some point today so this will have to do askjdbjsdhgf

#im #this is virtually incomprehensible #\system\directory\hidden.txt ›› META #long post /

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childofthenight2035 · 6 years

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Protect You (Part 3) Final

A/N: its literally been forever, this is NOT my best work, im sorry this is so damn long i aint ever gonna finish this am i featuring everybody and Ji Chang Wook

Pairing: Lee Taeyong x gn!Reader, Ji ChangWook x gn!Reader, Jung Jaehyun x gn!Reader

Summary/Prompt: Your new bodyguard doesn’t seen the friendly type.

Genre: Angst, Fluff, Bodyguard!AU

Word Count: 9.9k

Warnings: None?

Links to the other parts can be found in my masterlist!

“You have to be kidding me.” I vaguely heard Kai’s voice in my room. “Hyung, how could you let this happen?” Firm footsteps. A strong hand wrenched the bottle out of my grip. I whined, but let it go. Even in my dazed state, I knew it was too much.

Chanyeol gave a non-committal grunt. “What was I going to do? Stop it?” I fell back against the sofa from where I sat on the floor, fitting myself between Yeol’s legs. His broad hands stroked my hair soothingly and I leaned into his touch, smiling giddily. “What a happy baby.” Kai groaned. “Yah, what of Chang Wook? The asshole.”

“You can’t blame him.” Kai let out a deep sigh. “His career was on the line.”

“But still.”

“He’s gone, anyway. Packed his bags and left.”

“You’re kidding.”

“They must have settled it that way. Let’s not interfere in it.”

Chanyeol made a noise of outrage. “Not interfere? If I could get my hands on that—“

“There’s something else, hyung. Something possibly worse.”

There was a pause. “What could be worse?”

“Someone joined the dance department, and I think…”

I was so exhausted. I fell asleep.

Wendy’s constant presence was slowly starting to drive me insane. I had not a single moment to myself. It was irritating, especially concerning the fact that I wasn’t that close to Wendy.

“Do you really have nothing to do?” I asked, albeit a little harshly. Wendy pouted.

“Wow, do you really not like having me around?”

I slumped. “It’s not that, just….I feel like you’re tailing me because Yeol put you up to it. I mean, will anyone let me mope in peace?”

“Honestly? No,” she replied. “Irene is out of town and Seulgi is completely hooked on that new kid in the choreo department.”

Something rang a bell. “Ohh, yeah, I think the boys mentioned that…” I tugged at my hair. “And? What did Seulgi say? Is the kid any good?”

“I wish he wasn’t.” Wendy shook her head. “She hasn’t spoken of anything but how great he is at everything.”

I laughed. “Seems like someone has a crush?”

Wendy pursed her lips. “God, I hope not. I won’t be able to live with her.” She suddenly stopped and gripped my arm. “And you know what she’s saying? He’s so good, she’s taking him with us to New York!”

“Tomorrow, isn’t it?” I shivered. “I keep forgetting it’s so close. I’m excited.”

“Me too.” She bounced on her heels. “I’ve never been to New York.”

“Hyunwoo’s gonna be there,” I said, heart sinking a little as I remembered why Hyunwoo would be there. “Reinstated as long as I’m there.”

“Oh. That’s good, isn’t it?”

“It must be such an inconvenience, I mean, he must have other things to do.”

“He might not.” Wendy was quick to reassure me. “Don’t think about it too much.” She glanced at her watch. “We have a department meeting now. You want to come?”

I shook my head. “What would I possibly do?”

“Just sit there and watch. Come on. It’s not like you have anything better to do.”

I slipped into the room behind Wendy and immediately spotted Chanyeol, standing near the back and leaning against the wall. I slid into the shadows behind him.

“Yah, what are you doing here?” He whispered. I smiled angelically in response.

“Hey,” Wendy hissed, tapping my shoulder. “I think that’s the new guy.” I turned my head in the direction she was pointing until I caught a shock of red hair near the front of the room.

“Damn,” I whispered back. “Sure he’s not an idol or something?” She only giggled. My eyes remained trained on the back of the newbie’s head, admiring his spunk. I caught a glimpse of Seulgi, who was seated next to him, as she turned to talk to him. “Seulgi looks whipped,” I commented.

“Can you both shut up?” Chanyeol snapped, unusually tense. I narrowed my eyes at him, but obeyed. I slunk back into the shadows.

“I’ll wait outside, then,” I told Wendy, my voice low. She nodded and let me go, only after promising that I had to wait for them. I crept along the walls and let myself out the door.

I dragged my toes aimlessly over the floor, following the cracks that the tiles made—ordinary large grey tiles that bored me. I checked my watch. Why weren’t they coming out yet? Were department meetings such a big deal? I’d never known. It had been well over an hour already and who knew whether it would take longer? I didn’t understand all their talk about tech and time schedules and budgets. Channie seemed pretty nervous. Was the music department behind on any deadline? Wait—was it because he was taking care of me for the past few days? Was he going to face the music today? Is this all my fault? Yes, a voice in my head answered my question. Of course this is all your fault.

The door creaked open and I shifted aside for the throng of people to pass, greeting the ones I recognized but keeping one eye out for Wendy or Chanyeol. After the rush had died down, the door opened again to emit two people—Seulgi and the new kid. My eyes immediately darted to his hair. He nodded at Seulgi and the two split ways, the new guy taking the corridor that passed me. And that’s when I saw his face.

My mouth fell open. I stood there speechless as he walked past without even giving a hint that he knew I was standing there.

“Taeyong?” I breathed out, loud enough for him to hear. No response. He continued walking. “Yah, Lee Taeyong!” I left my post by the door and ran after him. He seemed to not pay attention. I seized the cuff of his shirt and tugged hard, so that he was forced to stop. I pulled and he swung reluctantly around to face me. “Yah, Taeyong-ah,” I said in numb disbelief that soon changed to anger. “Yah, how could you do that? Resign without telling me and then disappear? And then show up three days later as a choreographer? What do you think you’re doing?”

His face soured and he yanked his arm back. “Please leave me alone. Don’t talk to me.” Swivelling on his heels, he strolled away, his footsteps echoing in the empty corridor.

“Can you believe that?” I burst out in Chanyeol’s studio. “Lee Taeyong—my bodyguard—after all we’ve been through—honestly, how dare he? And he’s telling me to leave him alone? Like what the hell? Not to talk to him? What is he playing at?”

I paced the studio, not seeing Wendy flinch, nor Chanyeol glaring at her.

“Okay, but listen, it’s not that I’m upset that he resigned or anything,” I continued, not caring whether they were listening or not. “I mean, he liked dancing, so yeah, let him dance again, that’s a great thing, but why leave without telling me and now why tell me to stay away? I mean, what did I do?”

“Maybe he was embarrassed that he was going to take dancing again,” Wendy suggested. I caught Yeol’s glare but didn’t make anything of it.

“How? I’m the one that told him to start dancing again and that we’d all support him,” I argued. “That doesn’t explain why he’s mad at me now.”

“I’m sure he has his reasons,” Chanyeol interjected. “Let’s not push it. You—“ he pointed at me, “—should be focusing on your dialogues. We’re leaving tomorrow and don’t think Sunho’s going to give you much time to learn them once we’re there.”

“Ooh, responsible Yeol,” I teased. “It’s not a bad look for you.”

“I’m serious, Y/N.”

“The flight. I’ll learn them on the flight.” He sighed and turned to his computer. “Oh no,” I said, suddenly remembering what Wendy told me. “Taeyong’s coming, isn’t he?”

“Just stay away from him, yeah?” I heard Chanyeol say. “Nothing good is going to come out of you provoking him. So use your brain for once.”

“For once?” I stuck my tongue out at the back of his head. “I use my brain all the time.”

“And let me remind you of one thing,” he turned right around. “In the light of the media, you’re still in a relationship with Kai, so don’t go around making a bad rep. Hyuk’s going to have a heart attack if you do.”

“I don’t want to see his fat face,” I snapped. “Let him go to hell.” Wendy raised her eyebrows. I kind of felt sorry for her, having to witness all my arguments with Chan.

“Well, at least Hyunwoo’s going to be there, yeah?” she said cheerily. “He must be glad to see you. It’s been a while.”

Before I could respond, Chan cut in. “Have you finished packing?”

“Not everything.”

“Go finish. Now.” I stood up, scared of his tone, bowed to both of them deeper than I normally did and let myself out the door.

I pressed my fingertips to the thick glass of the airplane windows, gazing down at the scene below us. It was just like in the movies—tall skyscrapers breaking through the clouds as the flight descended.

“New York.” Chanyeol said quietly beside me. “Worth the wait, huh?”

“You bet.” I peeked over the seat ahead of me and saw Wendy with her nose pressed against the glass, excitement written all over her face. I couldn’t help but giggle. Despite having been abroad for most of her studies, she had apparently never actually been to New York.

I could only hope the visit turned out as good as I hoped.

“Hyunwoo!” I squealed as soon as I saw him waiting for us outside the airport. I was about to make a dash for him, but Chanyeol seized my arm and pulled me close to him, looking furtively both ways.

“Don’t make a scene, for heaven’s sake,” he hissed. I pouted but obeyed.

The first thing I got from Hyunwoo was a hard knuckle to my head. And then a hug.

“I didn’t think I would be seeing you so soon,” he remarked. “There goes my peace and quiet for the next couple months.”

I punched him—which I’m sure he didn’t even feel—and looped my arm into his. “I’m sorry you had to drop everything—“ A flash of red passed me. I raised my voice slightly. “—for me. It was all because of some asshole who resigned without saying anything—“ A sharp smack to the back of my head shut me up. Channie. Why can’t you be on my side for this? Jeez.

“I’m sure he had a reason,” Hyunwoo said sensibly. I knew that was obviously true, but my irritation wouldn’t stay down for long.

“Forget it. How’s Minhyuk?” I asked, shifting the topic back to him.

“He’s doing good. He’s a teacher at a preschool now, did you know?”

“Really? That’s great. He’s good with kids.”

“He is.” I could hear the fondness in his voice and my heart suddenly ached.

The streets were packed. However hard I looked, I could hardly see enough space for a cat to breathe. The hotel corridor had full length windows at the end and I was pressed up against them, peering down at the road. “Is New York always so busy?” I wondered aloud.

“Sure is.”

I jumped, my shoes making an embarrassing squeaking noise against the tiles. Swivelling around, I came face-to-face with a cheerful face. Cheerful? Well, that too. I meant to say gorgeous. Because he is. “Oh. Um. Hi.”

His face broke out in an excited grin. “Hi. I’m Jaehyun. I think we’ve…um…corresponded?”

Odd way to say that we talked on the phone, but okay. “Yeah, I remember. Nice to finally meet you.”

We shook hands.

“You got the role of the boyfriend, right?” I confirmed, lifting myself off the window and gesturing him to follow me downstairs to where I would get some food in my stomach.

“Yeah, I did!” He was bouncing on his heels very slightly, but enough for me to notice.

I chuckled. “You seem really eager.”

He abruptly stopped and let out a nervous laugh. “Well, yeah, I guess. I’m a really big fan of you. You’re such a great actor. You’re like my idol.”

“Thank you,” I replied graciously. “I’m looking forward to seeing you be even better. No pressure, though.”

“I’ll try my best!” He pressed the button for the elevator and held it open for me. Once we were inside, he cleared his throat. “Um, do you know where Taeyong is? He told me he was coming, too.”

My expression soured as soon as I heard his name. “No, I don’t know. And I certainly don’t care where he is, either.”

“Whoa. I’m sorry. Is…is something wrong?” Jaehyun looked genuinely confused, poor thing. “I thought he was your bodyguard?”

“Exactly. He was.” The elevator pinged and the doors opened. “You can ask him why yourself.” I stalked out, mood ruined, leaving Jaehyun absolutely scared of my sudden temper.

Stupid Taeyong. Stupid Taeyong with his stupid red hair and his stupid choreo. Who does he think he is? How dare he say that to me? How dare he tell me to leave him alone when I’m the one who told him that it was okay to go dance again? Him and his stupid dance moves, looking like a tomato. That’s what I’m going to call him. Tomatohead. Stupid tomatohead with his —

“Couldn’t you just talk to him?” Hyunwoo suggested, evidently tired of me staring at Taeyong with daggers in my eyes every time I saw him. I shook my head.

“He doesn’t want to talk to me, so what am I supposed to do?” I slumped back in my chair. “It’s like I did something to him. He’s acting perfectly fine around everyone else.”

Always the voice of reason, Hyunwoo spoke gently: “Maybe you did do something.”

“I swear I didn’t!” I cried out for the umpteenth time in a week.

“Did you say anything to him the day before he resigned?”

“I was at a party,” I stressed yet again. “He wasn’t in a mile radius of where I was. And we were on good terms before it.”

Hyunwoo only sighed and sat back, gazing at me disappointedly. I hated that look. Why do I feel so guilty if I didn’t do anything?

Tax fraud. That’s what my parents said the authorities called it. I didn’t understand. Hadn’t my parents been paying their taxes? Wasn’t that what they were working so hard for? I didn’t know why they would be accused of it, nor did I give it much importance until I heard them tell me one word—deportation. That meant being forced out of the country. That meant leaving. Going back to the town my parents grew up in. No, they told me, not a town. A village. A village on the river. A village on the border, on the brink of war.

No, I told them, I won’t go. There has to be a way to fix this problem. Tax issues aren’t rare. People have survived those without getting kicked out. No, I said, I won’t let us go. Falling into the middle of war? It’s not safe. Is this your attempt at being patriotic? Aren’t you worried at all?

Nonsense, they told me, this is something we’ve been meaning to do anyway. You need to know about your own culture instead of rotting in this foreign land. We’re going, they said, we don’t have the ability to fight the government. You’re thinking only of yourself. Our people have always made peace. There won’t be a war, you’ll see.

None of my friends understood. They were sad that I would leave, but I was devastated. They were losing one person, one replaceable face in the crowd. I was losing everything and everyone I had ever known. Not even my boyfriend heard what I was trying to tell him.

“You’re going back?” he asked me, his voice a hushed whisper. “You’re not serious?”

I nodded, eyes teary. “That’s what they’re telling me.”

He shook his head disbelievingly. “You’re so lucky.”

My mouth fell open. “You’re calling me lucky? Have you gone insane?”

“You wouldn’t understand!” he exclaimed. “All those things my father tells us, regretting that he brought us here and spoiled us…but he’s never had the courage to actually pack up and leave. Ah, the stories he tells!” He had a wistful look on his face. “Sometimes they make me wish I was there.”

I swallowed my grief down, but tears spilled over anyway. “I can’t believe you would say that. You’re just like everyone else. Is that all I am?”

“Hey, darling, no, don’t cry.” He gently wiped away the droplets running down. “I know. But don’t you see how great this is? This adventure you’re going to be part of?” I seized his shirt and fisted the material in my hands.

“No! Why can’t you understand?” I begged, tear tracks staining my cheeks. “Don’t you care about me? About…” Us, I wanted to say. Don’t you love me? There were so many things I wanted to tell him, so much I wanted to ask, so many things I wanted to yell out at him, in his face, into the void. But we were in the neighbourhood, other people already looking around to see what the commotion was.

“Darling, I do,” he said, glancing around quickly, his way of telling me that I was being too loud, too open about what was happening between us, too much to harm his image. “I do care about you. But you know there’s nothing I can do about it. You know I’m barely scraping through as it is.”

I wrung my hands. “But—“

“Listen, I don’t know why or how your family got yourselves involved in this—this tax fraud? I don’t know. But I don’t have even two dollars to lend you, sweetheart, you know that. I have no connections. I can’t afford a lawyer.” He sighed, running his hands through his hair.

My mouth parted. “I’m not even asking you for mon—“

“Darling. Please. I understand. You’re worried, you’re upset, this is unfair, I know.” He gripped my shoulders. “Your parents aren’t half as worried, though, are they?” I reluctantly shook my head. “They know what’s best for you. And it’s not forever. You’ll come back someday. Or I’ll finally pick myself up and move there. But this is such a great opportunity for you. Don’t let it go. Listen to them. I’ll write to you. I promise.”

The walk home was depressing. I realized that I had no one to lean on. No one to trust. I would fight this on my own.

“Good work, today, everyone! Pack up!” Sunho-ssi’s shout was balm to my poor ears. I collapsed onto a chair as soon as I walked out of sight of the cameras. Jaehyun fell into the next one soon after.

“You’re really good, you know?” I remarked. He turned red despite how flushed his face already was.

“Look who’s talking. You cry so convincingly. I wanted to break character and hug you so badly,” he replied, the tips of his ears turning adorably pink as he finished the sentence.

“Give me a hug now then, I could use it.” I stretched my arms out toward him and he hesitantly embraced me. I rubbed his back soothingly. “You’re comfortable. I like you.” Ignoring the spluttering I heard by my ear, I murmured, “Let’s go get something to eat, I’m starved.”

“Wait, where’s Hyunwoo?” Jaehyun asked, noticing that the big guy wasn’t anywhere near us. I shrugged, not intending to make a scene out of it. To be honest, I was sort of glad that I wasn’t restricting him. I wanted him to be happy. I was the one who urged him to let go of the job and move to New York. I wanted him to be living on his terms for once and I felt so guilty for making him have to stick by my side again.

“It’s okay, he might have gone home for a while.” I nudged him in the ribs. “He must have trusted you enough.” Laughing at the look on his face, I stood up, taking his hand and pulled him over to the vehicles with the rest of the crew.

Unfortunately, the only car that had vacant seats was Seulgi’s. I assumed they had come to set to ask for input or to analyse the scene. I wasn’t going to ask what they did when they were working. I really didn’t want to share with those two, but Jaehyun saw his favourite hyung and dragged me along at once.

Seulgi smiled at me and moved to the side, looking at Mr. Tomatohead pleadingly, who rolled his eyes and vaulted into the cramped backseat. Jae and I slid into the middle, squeezing me in between. I was very much aware that there was a certain man breathing down my neck, but I tried not to think about it. I was also very much aware that Jaehyun was still holding my hand.

“Hey hyung!” Jaehyun said cheerfully, twisting around to face the tomato, surprisingly still not letting go of my hand. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw that Seulgi’s gaze rested on our intertwined fingers and she smirked.

“Hello, Jaehyun,” he replied dully, not using a nickname. Jaehyun’s face fell and he looked down at me, briefly. I winced at him apologetically and he turned back around in his seat, choosing instead to look out the window.

“How’s the shooting going?” Seulgi asked politely (I knew her, but I didn’t know her like that), just to make some small talk to break the awkwardness on our side of the car.

“It’s going well,” I answered, seizing the chance. “Jae’s such a great actor. He’s fun working with. I’m glad he got the part.”

“Stop it,” Jaehyun interjected, his ears going red again. “I’m not that great.”

I squeezed his fingers. “Yeah, you are.” He tugged at his collar, unbuttoning it. It was so funny to see how flustered he got when he was complimented. I laughed at him.

I missed the look Seulgi gave the man seated behind me.

Four weeks. Four weeks since we had arrived. Four weeks since I met Jaehyun and he decided to stick by my side all the time. Hyunwoo’s job was a lot easier, but he still hung around on the periphery most of the time.

After Jae was brushed off in the car that day, he seemed distant towards Taeyong, though he claimed they had patched things up back in their room. I was upset that I’d gotten in between two best friends, but that guilt always dissipated when I remembered what a jerk Taeyong was being anyway. Needless to say, Yeol wasn’t that ecstatic that I’d temporarily awarded Jae with the best friend title. But Jae was just so…fun.

High energy stinkball. That’s what he was. In the best way, of course. If you needed a jock, I had one ready for you. That’s what he was in the politest sense of the term. And I loved it. I felt nothing for him in the romance department. Not at all. It wasn’t just because he had idol-zoned me as soon as he met me, but his mannerisms and his energy gave me the impression that I was playing with some puppy, that I was taking care of a kid. I felt that instinctively, like he was someone to be mothered, to be adopted. So that’s what I did.

I thought about it, so many times. I stayed awake some nights thinking about what Jaehyun meant to me and what I wanted from him, if I even wanted anything at all. I wasn’t about to jump headfirst into a relationship, not after what happened not too long ago. I wasn’t ready, at least not by my own standards. My biggest problem was that I had no clue what Jaehyun thought of me. But I realized what I thought of him, one clear night on the roof. People say that you know the exact moment you realize you’re in love with someone, but I never knew that I would be able to pinpoint that moment I realize I’m not in love.

I had knocked on Jaehyun’s door in the dead of night, after calling him and telling him to get dressed and come out. He obeyed, rubbing his eyes blearily and yawning.

“What is it?” he pouted. “It’s one in the morning. Why aren’t you asleep?”

I frowned. I thought he would have been more excited at the idea of a midnight escapade. “Follow me. I want to show you something.” I led him to the elevators and we rode until the top floor. I pulled his whining self, up a set of stairs and through a door that opened onto the roof.

He shivered as the cool air hit him. “What are we doing up here?”

I spread out a blanket I had nicked from Yeol’s room. “Shooting stars.”

“Huh?”

I gestured for him to lay down. Making myself comfortable, I pointed up at the night sky. “If we wait enough, we’ll probably see a shooting star.”

“Why—“ he ground his teeth and broke off. “Okay.”

I winced. I knew he was tired and I should feel guilty about it, but I wanted him to be with me to look for shooting stars. I didn’t speak for a while, biting my lip. I listened to my own breathing and his beside me. It was relaxing, in a way. The days were hot and humid but the nights were absolutely wonderful. Being on the roof of such a high building made me feel that much closer to the moon. I watched the twinkling of the little dots in the sky, remembering the reasons for it that I learned in grade school. The flashing red light from a plane moved across my field of vision. I wondered for a moment where it was going. It might have been hours, or minutes. I saw a streak of light flash by.

“There!” I exclaimed, lifting myself up on my elbow and pointing. “Did you see that?” Silence. I looked over at Jaehyun with a brilliant smile on my face. He was sleeping peacefully, unaware of anything that had just happened. I sighed.

The thought came out of nowhere. I like him as just a friend. He’s just like Chanyeol. And then I was speechless at my own conclusion. I’m not in love with him. He was a good person to kill some time with, not to share emotion with. Someone I was in love with…I’d want to share beauty with them, appreciate aesthetic with them.

And then I remembered a night journey, months ago, wind whipping through my hair, a mask over my face and a blue glow from behind trees. I remembered a heartfelt talk, the whispers and expressive eyes.

And then I thought, Taeyong is asleep in the same room I pulled Jaehyun out from. I brought the wrong person with me.

And then, I wish Taeyong didn’t hate me. I‘m going to apologize for whatever I did, even if I don’t know what it is.

It was relatively easy, to shake Jae awake, forgive him for sleeping over his ‘sorry’s, and to haul his drowsy self downstairs to his room. What wasn’t easy was to be greeted by Taeyong’s sour face opening the door, his muttering as he let me in to dump Jae on his bed and the feeling of his eyes on me as I reluctantly walked towards the door, his hand already on the knob, ready to lock me out.

“Taeyong.” His name left my tongue in breathless whisper that made him tense up. I looked at him, desperate. “Please don’t be like this.”

“You should leave.” He wasn’t having it.

“Taeyong…ssi. I’m sorry.” I noticed how his expression changed at my apology. “I’ve clearly done something to hurt you. And I’m sorry, but I don’t know what it is. I don’t remember. Whatever it is, I’m so sorry. This—whatever is going on between us, I can’t take it anymore. I’m sorry.”

His shoulders slumped as if he had been carrying the weight of the world on them and finally set it down somewhere. “You don’t remember.” It wasn’t a question. It seemed to be addressed to himself, as if he had just realized something. “Of course you don’t remember. I thought—“ he broke off, shaking his head. “It doesn’t matter. You should leave.”

“Taeyong—“

“I’m sorry, too, Y/N. But you need to go and sleep. Please. It’s late. We can talk…in the morning.” He bowed his head and, recognizing defeat, I walked out of the room. I was so caught up with the thoughts in my own head and my bitter disappointment that it didn’t register that their door closed only after I closed mine.

After the next day’s shoot, I sat in a chair in the hotel lobby with Seulgi, waiting for Jaehyun to come inside. I hadn’t seen Taeyong all day.

“You’re waiting for Wendy to come down, I guess?” I asked her. She nodded.

“Yeah. She wanted to go see the Empire State Building and I said I’d go with her.” She shook back her hair. I envied how she maintained it so well, but I didn’t dare say that out loud.

“You don’t know where…Taeyong is…do you?” I tried to sound as casual as possible, as if I hadn’t avoided him for the last month. I must have missed her change in tone, but I caught her little smile. My eyebrows creased, alarms going off in my head.

“I haven’t seen him. We don’t have practice today.”

“Ah. Thanks anyway.” I directed my gaze outside the full length glass windows, thinking about her change in mannerisms. Does Seulgi like Taeyong? Wendy did say she wouldn’t stop talking about him. My eyes fell on Jaehyun and I almost stood up to wave at him, but then I saw Hyunwoo pulling him aside and whispering to him. That was something I had never seen. Since when were they so close? Hyunwoo strode indoors to the elevators without sparing me a glance. Oh, he meant business.

The sofa dipped as Jae plopped down next to me, yawning.

“Why does Hyunwoo look like he’s going to kick someone’s ass?”

He shrugged. “Shownu hyung? I dunno. He told me to keep you here and not let you come upstairs until he calls you.”

“Why? What the hell. Also, wait, Shownu? Only Minhyuk and his other friends call him that. How…?”

“I’m just a friendly guy. Seulgi, right?” Jaehyun reached around me to shake her hand. “Jaehyun. Taeyong’s told me quite a lot about you. He says your dancing is pretty impressive.” He wiggled his eyebrows. I stared at him in disgust.

She blushed. “He’s exaggerating. I’m not that good. Have you seen him dance?”

I tuned them out. I absolutely did not need to hear about this. Also, is this Jaehyun when he flirts? He’s doing pretty well. I’ve never seen him like that. That means he doesn’t see me like that. Right? That’s a relief. I wouldn’t want to break his heart.

My phone buzzed. “”Hyunwoo’s calling.” I slid my finger over the answer button. “Hello?”

Two sentences. “Come to Chanyeol’s room. Don’t bring Jaehyun.” And then he hung up.

“What did he say?” He asked curiously.

I stood up, smoothening my shirt. “To go to Yeol’s room and not bring you.”

He looked momentarily offended but then stretched, eyes shifting to Seulgi. “Yeah, okay. That’s cool with me.”

Okay, he definitely wasn’t in love with me.

I knocked on Chanyeol’s door twice before I heard Hyunwoo’s voice say ‘just come in already’. Bewildered, I stepped inside and found Yeol and Wendy both standing there, heads bowed, looking positively guilty. Hyunwoo—Shownu?—standing there with his arms crossed only confused me more. I’ll be honest and I wasn’t proud of it, but the scene looked like Hyunwoo had just caught the two of them in the act. Against my will, my eyes slid to the bed. It wasn’t rumpled.

“…What’s going on?” I asked cautiously. “You two look like you murdered someone.”

There was no answer. Hyunwoo cleared his throat loudly and threateningly.

“Are you two going to speak up or should I?”

“Yeollie, what’s wrong?” I spoke gently. He flinched, still not looking up at me. My heart began to pound. Something was seriously wrong. Chanyeol was not responding to me. I shifted my focus. “Wendy? What’s the matter?”

She clenched her fists. “We…um. We know why Taeyong is mad at you.”

Silence.

Several thoughts ran through my mind. They found out why he’s mad at me? Is that why I didn’t see him at all today? Because he was telling them what happened? But why would he tell them? Did they interrogate him for it? Did they finally get tired of my moping? Is the reason so bad that they can’t even tell me? Have I done something terrible? Oh my gosh, what is it?

“You guys found out why he’s mad at me?”

Yeol opened his mouth the answer, but Hyunwoo cut him off. “No, they already knew why he’s mad at you. They’ve known this whole time.”

My mouth fell open. “What? What do you mean?” I turned to Chanyeol. “Yeol, he’s not serious, is he? You wouldn’t keep something like that from me…right?” His silence was answer enough.

“I—“ I tugged at my hair, frustrated. “But…why is he mad at me? What did I do?”

“You kissed him.”

If I hadn’t seen Wendy’s lips move, I wouldn’t have believed those words. Actually, scratch that. I saw her lips move, and I still didn’t believe her.

“What do you mean, I kissed him?” I wasn’t sure I wanted to know any more.

She took a deep breath. “That night at the party. You got shitfaced and you…you called him on the phone and said you wanted him and so I grabbed it from you and asked him to come pick you up.” She fiddled nervously. “And when he came, you kissed him. Really...went for it.”

I stood there, speechless. No way that happened. She has to be joking. I wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t let me do that.

“Come on guys,” I said, voice lighthearted at first but faltering when I saw no change of expression. “That can’t be…true. Can it?” They hung their heads again. “How—How do you know?”

“I saw it,” Wendy mumbled.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“We didn’t want you to get hurt.”

“And Yeol? I thought you were as drunk as I was. If I didn’t remember, how did you?”

“I didn’t.” He swallowed hard. “Wendy told me.”

“When?” The word emerged as a harsh whisper, my anger and guilt slowly building.

“The next day.”

And then I exploded.

“So both of you knew about it? This is what you’ve been talking about behind my back? You really had the nerve to keep this from me, I can’t believe you! You didn’t even have the decency to let me know what I did! Just because I don’t remember doesn’t mean he doesn’t either! I could have at least apologized to him even if I didn’t remember! Why would you tell him to come pick me up? His sister was having a baby that night and he was with her, he told me that before he left and I promised him, I promised him that he wouldn’t have to come and then I went and ruined his life! Don’t you see how disturbed he was? Couldn’t you have stopped me? I don’t blame him for hating me, what have I done?! Of course he hates me, who wouldn’t? Don’t you have any idea what I’ve been going through every time I see him? How much negativity I’ve been carrying around? That doesn’t feel nice, you know! I can’t believe I would do something so stupid but at least you could have warned me…

I didn’t stay to listen to their apologies.

I hesitated for a moment before knocking on the door that I had stood outside that morning at one o’clock.

“Y/N! Hey, come in, what did Shownu hyung want? What did he say? He kick anybody’s ass? Ooh, was it Chanyeol—“

“Jae.” I cut off the steady stream of words that flowed from his mouth, my eyes trained on the lean red-haired man standing behind him, frozen. Damn, couldn’t the boy be quiet for once? “Could you give us a minute?”

Jaehyun looked from me to Taeyong. “Um. Okay?”

When the door clicked into place, he looked up at me. Again, I was mesmerized by him. I never paid so much attention, but his hair colour really brought out his sharp features.

“Taeyong-ssi,” I began carefully. “I’m very sorry.”

He smiled sadly, wearily. “For what? I’ve forgiven you.”

“No.” I jerked my thumb over my shoulder at the door. “They told me.”

“What?”

“They told me what happened at the party. They say I…kissed you. Is that true?”

His expression morphed into apprehension, quickly returning to his usual stoic face. “Yes.”

I buried my face in my hands. “God, Taeyong, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay. It was a mistake, you were drunk—“

“It’s not that inexcusable, Taeyong, please,” I begged. “You’ve only ever been professional and I went and destroyed that for you, I don’t blame you for resigning, I don’t blame you for hating me, I don’t even—“

“I don’t hate you.”

“—can even stand to look at me—wait, what?” He cracked a little smile. “You don’t hate me?”

He shook his head, red locks falling into his eyes. “I was a little uncomfortable, I admit, but no, I don’t hate you.”

I couldn’t speak for a few moments. “You should hate me, I would hate myself, I mean, it’s not even that I kissed you, I promised you that you didn’t have to come to pick me up, your sister just had a baby and you should have been there for her and I had to be stupid and get drunk and ruin everything—mmphf!” My rant was cut short by his arms wrapping around me, burying my face in his chest and feeling the warmth of his body.

“I said I forgive you, Y/N.”

Did I mention the butterflies I felt for some reason? And the way he said my name?

“…Taeyong?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re not my bodyguard anymore, right?”

“I’m not.”

“You’re not working for me anymore. You’re working with me. So can’t we be friends?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’d like that.”

“And you didn’t even tell me about it?” Jaehyun sounded scandalized. “I thought I was your best friend!” He huffed, crossing his arms. “I can’t believe you right now.”

“Just because you’re my best friend doesn’t mean I have to tell you everything,” Taeyong protested. We had brought Jae back inside after our conversation, to explain it to him as well.

“That’s what a best friend is, hyung! You got kissed by an award-winning actor and you didn’t even say anything?” He smacked his face. “I would have broadcasted it.”

“Well, I guess it’s a good thing I never kissed you,” I told him.

“Aw hey, come on, I’m not a bad kisser or anything.” He puckered his lips. “Wanna see?”

I pushed him away. “No. Keep your tongue in your own mouth.” I checked my watch. “I’d better get going before this doofus kisses me for real. See you guys later.”

“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, come here” was all I heard before I was yanked into an empty corridor a week later to see Jae in front of me, panting and looking both ways furtively.

“What? What is it?” I asked, nearly panicking. “Did something happen?”

“Yes,” he stressed, laying a hand over his heaving chest. “My heart is broken.”

“Oh for the love of—grow up, Jae!” I shouted, shoving him. He clapped a hand over my mouth.

“I’m serious, Y/N. I need your help.”

I pried his hand away. “For what?”

“Listen. Haven’t you been noticing something going on with Tae and Seulgi?”

That certainly caught my attention. “What are you hinting at?”

“They spend all their time together nowadays. It’s like they’re dating.” I couldn’t control the way my heart sank at his words.

“You think they’re dating?”

“No, but I don’t think it’s far off.” He ran a hand through his hair. “She knows I like her, she’s doing this on purpose.”

“Seulgi?”

“Yeah. So I’m going to make her jealous. And then beat Taeyong’s ass—sorry, hyung—for helping her plot something against me.”

“I don’t know how well that’s going to turn out, but yeah, sure, go for it. What do you need my help for?” His eyes glinted evilly. “Oh hell no. Jae. No. N. O. I am not going to—“

“How sweet, you act like you have a choice.” He grinned as if he knew every dark secret in my mind. “You’re going to help me and that’s that. Get ready. We start today.”

Weakly, I asked, “What am I supposed to do?”

“Act like I’m your boyfriend. Here, I’ll give you an example.” And then he pressed his lips to mine, just as two people rounded the corner. He jumped away from me in pretend shock, like he’d just been caught. My shock, however, was real. 100% real. I brought my hand up to cover my mouth.

“Hyung!” Jae said loudly. “What, what are you doing here?”

Taeyong crossed his arms, irritation on his face. “Better question is what you were doing.”

Heat crept up my cheeks. This was already a bad idea. I chanced a glance at Seulgi. She didn’t seem upset at all. On the contrary, she looked happy. As if she had been rooting for me and Jae to get together. I noticed how her arm was linked with Taeyong’s. I frowned inwardly, jealousy ripping through my veins. But why am I jealous? I’m supposed to be helping Jae get with Seulgi. It seems like she’s already with Taeyong. Are they a thing now? Is this official? When did this happen?

“It was just—nothing, hyung.” Jaehyun was still weaving his web of lies. “Remember how I said I wasn’t a bad kisser? I was just proving my point. We’re not, like, dating, or anything.”

Taeyong stared hard at Jae, eyes sliding toward Seulgi and then he smirked, like he was saying, I see what game you’re playing. I can see right through you. He took a step toward Jae. In a low voice that Seulgi couldn’t hear, he spoke: “I’m not a petty fool like you are. Know when to draw the line. Grow up, Jae.”

All I could hear was, try all you want, Jae, your girl is mine. And for some reason, it broke my heart. I inhaled sharply as the two of them walked off down the corridor. Jae stared at them, dismayed and I sunk to the floor.

“Whoa, hey, Y/N, you okay?” He knelt beside me. “Am I that great a kisser?” I pushed him. “No, but really, I’m sorry I kissed you just like that. I knew they were coming down the hall. You okay? You don’t look so good.”

I shook my head. “I just realized that I don’t like seeing them together.”

He squinted at me. “Why? You have a thing for Tae hyung or something?”

“Wha—no!” I spluttered. “It’s just, I—you and Seulgi look better together.”

“Oh. Thanks.” He sat down against the wall next to me. “I’m meddling again. I just hope things turn out okay.”

Jealousy. Burning rage coursed through me whenever I saw the two of them together, fawning over each other, Seulgi kissing him on the cheek, making little inside jokes and giggling about it to each other…the list seemed endless. It almost seemed as if Seulgi was doing all that to spite Jaehyun—as if both of them were in a battle to make each other snap. But I felt like I was the one hurting the most. Were they even dating? Or was this Seulgi’s plan to crush Jae’s advances? I wanted to know the truth.

“Is Seulgi dating Taeyong?” I demanded, slamming my fist down on Chanyeol’s desk. He jumped at the vibrations, startled at being disturbed from his work. He slid his headphones off, letting them hang around his neck, the picture of professionalism.

“Did you say something?”

“Is Seulgi dating Taeyong?”

He scoffed. “Seulgi? Dating Taeyong? Don’t be silly.”

“Then explain what’s happening between them! They do everything together.”

He leaned back in his chair. “I’m her favourite oppa. I’m pretty sure she would tell me—“ I raised my eyebrows at him “—or at least Wendy—if they were a thing.”

I was sceptical. “I don’t believe you.”

“Look, I—here.” He pulled out his phone and dialled her number. “I’m calling her. On speaker.” The other end of the line rang.

“Hello? Oppa?”

“Hey, Seulgi-yah. I have a question for you. Are you dating that kid in your choreo team? What’s his name? Taeyong?”

“Taeyong? No, I’m not dating him. Why do you ask?”

“Nothing, nothing, just some rumors flying around.”

“Ah, oppa, you know I’d tell you if I was.” Yeol flashed me a smug smile. I rolled my eyes.

“Thanks anyway, Seulgi-yah. I’ll let you practice now.” He hung up. “See? I told you it was nothing.”

“I still find it highly suspicious.”

“You know what I find suspicious?” He pointed his pencil at me. “I find it suspicious that you care so much about this.”

I knew where this was going. “I care because Jaehyun really likes her and I wanted him to be happy, but she’s always with Taeyong.”

Yeol smirked. “And it’s not because you’re in love with Taeyong, right?”

“I’m not in love with Taeyong!” I said hotly, kicking the legs of his desk.

“Your voice got higher. You’re in denial.”

I coughed. “I’m not in love with Taeyong,” I repeated, deepening my sound.

“I’m not in love with Taeyong,” He mocked. “You totally are. Just go tell him.”

“I’m not! You’re supposed to be on my side!”

But he was right. I was in denial.

Even as I held Jae’s hand, I wished it was Taeyong. When Jae came over to my room specifically when the duo was nearby, to cuddle or watch a movie, I wished it was Taeyong. When I posted something cheesy on my social media, people erupted, gushing about how cute it was that I was still thinking of Kai despite being busy in the States with shooting. Jaehyun would comment later (within earshot of the other two) that it was nice of me to say that about him. But it was about Taeyong. I wished it could be about Taeyong. When I lay in bed unable to sleep and wanting to see the stars, I crept out of my room to the roof. Alone. And saw nothing. And then my heart ached so badly that I wished desperately that Taeyong was with me. When Jae spent the night in my room, holding his hands up in surrender, promising me that he wouldn’t try anything, and when we fell asleep on the couch, I wished it was Taeyong.

He was right. I was in love.

But when had that happened? I realized it because of sheer jealousy. But when had I actually fallen in love? Throughout these twists and turns, from the first time I laid eyes on him in an elevator to when he became my bodyguard to now, when he swung off another girl in New York—somewhere, somehow, along the way, my heart had decided that it wanted to be with him.

“Holy shit,” I whispered, breath shaking. “I’m in love with him.”

Chanyeol would yell at me. He would tease me and tell me that he had been saying that all along. Kai wouldn’t. And he didn’t. My boyfriend, in the public eye, at least, listened quietly as I went into a rant about everything that happened and what I felt about it. And then, what I was afraid of. I was in tears by the end. Kai was patient. Kai was sympathetic. Kai could relate. His support made me feel so upset with myself and I had to apologize for not calling as often as I should have. But he forgave me. And that day, when the sun had set outside his dorm window, light filtered into mine.

“You don’t need to be upset or insecure because of Chang Wook,” he told me. “He saw that you were smitten without him having to do anything, and he took that chance. And then he had to give it up. That doesn’t mean you are incapable of being loved. I can’t answer whether you were in love with him or if it was idol-infatuation. Only you can say that. But right now, he’s not the one you want to be next to, is he?” I could hear him smiling on the other end. “You’re not going too fast. Life is meant to be lived. If you’ve found the person you want, there’s no right or wrong in it. It’s only whether you get up and do something about it, or let him slip away.” But what about us? I wanted to ask. What about the agency? What will they say? He understood. “Both of us love other people. But more than anyone else, Y/N, I love you and I want you to be happy. Get back in Korea and we’re going to take things into our own hands. We’re still people. We make our own decisions. We don’t have to tell them we found love, just that we don’t find it in each other. But now, I think you should go tell Yeol.”

“He’s going to make fun of me.”

“He won’t. He can support you now, when I can’t. Go to him.”

Chanyeol didn’t yell at me. He didn’t say I told you so. He didn’t smirk and he didn’t taunt. Uncharacteristically. But I was still grateful. I didn’t need to know that I had been wrong and he had been right. Our conversation was very brief. I told him that I’d come to my senses and he gripped my shoulders, taking a deep breath.

“Go tell him, you fool!” he shouted into my face. “Why the heck are you in my room?”

Taeyong was inside his room, I knew it. This is it, I thought. This is where everything turns out okay or where everything burns to ashes. And this time, I don’t think it will be fixed.

I lifted my hand to knock, but faltered when I heard voices.

“Jung Jaehyun, you take this too far!”

I gasped at the ferocity in his voice. Who knew Taeyong could be this scary?

“What did I do now?” I couldn’t believe the sass in Jae’s tone. If I had been in his place, I would have vaporized on the spot.

“You slept in Y/N’s room last night?”

Wait, why am I being dragged into this? Why does Taeyong care? Jae did that to make Seulgi jealous…right?

“Yeah. I did. Why do you care so much, hyung?” There was a teasing lilt to his voice that I couldn’t quite place.

Silence. “Don’t play this game, Jaehyun.”

“You started it. I didn’t.”

Game? Started what game?

“I only agreed to it because Seulgi came to me saying that she liked you but you were always with Y/N and she wanted me to help make you jealous.”

The familiar words rang a bell. Wait. Wait. What’s going on? Isn’t that the same thing Jae told me? That he wanted my help making Seulgi jealous?

“Huh. So you did start it. You got with Seulgi to make me upset, so I got with Y/N to make her upset. Where do you come in all this, hyung? What’s got you so tied up?”

So that’s why Jaehyun said all that. Okay, that makes sense.

“You know why.”

“No, hyung, I don’t. You’re not willing to admit it, you don’t want to go and do something about it, so why should I bother?”

I felt the tension build up, the air suddenly change. The fight had just gotten a lot more personal. I really shouldn’t be eavesdropping.

“Hyung, just admit it and I’ll back off.”

“Why do I need to admit anything? You already know about it! When I agreed to Seulgi’s plan, I didn’t think it would hurt me so much.”

I could relate. I could totally relate—wait. What?

“Why does it hurt you, hyung?” Jaehyun was fully mocking him now. I was terrified at his change in behaviour. I told myself the only reason I was still standing outside listening was to dash in if a fistfight broke out. “What part about me staying the night at Y/N’s, don’t you like? Huh? What part about me and Y/N kissing gets you so angry? Or better yet, what was the real reason you resigned that night after Y/N kissed you? Answer that, hyung?”

The words hit me forcefully. I imagined they did for him too. I staggered.

“It’s okay, hyung.” Jae’s voice was softer. “Just admit it.”

“I’m in love with Y/N.”

I clapped my hands over my mouth. The voices in my head muted. My traitor of a heartbeat picked up speed.

“That’s all there was to it, hyung. Just one sentence. Do you know how hard Seulgi and I worked for this? God, we drew blueprints for our plans and everything. You’re so dense.”

I couldn’t think anymore, but Taeyong’s renewed fury summed up my feelings pretty well. “Wait, you two planned this? So you don’t like each other?”

“Seulgi’s a great friend to have, hyung. That’s all. We’re not into each other like that.”

For a long moment, nobody spoke. I raised my hand weakly and knocked twice.

The door swung open. Jae.

From his expression, it was clear he understood that I heard everything. He pulled the door open wider.

“Thank me later, hyung. I just saved you both a lot of embarrassment.”

My eyes were only on Taeyong. Even though my face was burning and his finally matched his hair, I couldn’t seem to take my eyes off of him.

By impulse, my feet propelled me forward at the same his did.

Cliché, I know, but kissing Taeyong was better than anything I could have come up with. And trust me, I spent a lot of time imagining what it would be like to kiss him, what it had been like the night of the party, wishing I just remembered for once, because his lips were dry, his breathing was hot and heavy and his body suffocating.

Kissing Taeyong wasn’t just a punch of desire straight to my gut. It was the weight lifted off my chest. It was a soothing chill to my continuously aching heart. It was the fireworks, the bursting sense of bliss that threatened to escape my body, but it was also the calmness, the peace of the sea that had devoured the ship at last.

Kissing Taeyong wasn’t the spring breeze and the summer sun. It wasn’t the winter sky or the autumn leaves. It was nothing that existed in the plane of reality that my words could describe. For the first time, I was grateful that I couldn’t remember the party, because this was as great of a first kiss as I was going to get.

Kissing Taeyong was light-headedness, as if my brain couldn’t handle what was going on, as if my pounding heart was pumping the wrong way. I couldn’t think at all. It was just me and him, and his lips, over and over again. It was just his hands on my waist and mine in his hair and the pressure of his fingers and the coarseness under my own.

He pulled away first and I rested my forehead on his shoulder, dizzy, knees weak. I didn't trust myself to speak. Or move, for that matter. His face was buried in my neck, his breathing heavier than mine. My hands clung onto his arms. His were still around me.

Neither of us spoke. Neither of us needed to. But—

“Woohoo. Fucking finally. When’s the wedding?”

“Jae, just get out.”

“Kai and I have an announcement to make.”

The room burst into whispers.

“Y/N and I are not dating. We never were. We apologize for deceiving the public, but we cannot hide this any longer. We are best friends. Nothing more. We will not be answering questions. Sorry for the inconvenience. Thank you all for coming.”

Epilogue

“Jesus, this party is so boring,” Jae complained, empty glass in hand. “Why do promo if the parties aren’t worth anything?”

“Are you being serious right now? I can literally see three shades of lipstick under your collar.” I teased him, poking at his neck.

“Don’t do that. There’s nothing there,” he drawled. His attention was diverted by a waiter passing by with a tray of drinks. In a flash, he had swapped out his glass with a filled one.

“You are going to get drunk at this rate,” I remarked. “And then there will definitely be three shades of lipstick on your collar and in several other places.”

Downing half his drink, he stamped his foot. “It was one time, okay? Give it a rest. I’m a changed man.”

“You’re already scoping out the ladies here.”

He turned to me, arm raised as if to punch me in the face, but a hand grabbed his and yanked it down.

“Are you trying to pick a fight here, bro? Lay off.” I smiled sweetly at the welcome intervention. “Don’t touch Y/N.”

“Hey, I was just playing, hyung. You know I won’t do anything.” He finished his drink.

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks for sticking around. You go and find a hook-up now.” Jae didn’t need asking twice. He was lost in the crowd in an instant. I smiled fondly, despite his rashness. “The fame went straight to his head, didn’t it?” I returned my attention to the person who had just arrived.

“Hi,” I whispered in Taeyong’s ear, hooking my arms around his neck.

“No,” he replied, freeing himself from my embrace. “Paparazzi.” I pouted. He glanced quickly around the room, bent down and pecked my lips. It was over way too soon. I whined. Squeezing my thigh, he lowered his voice. “Be patient, baby. Wait until we get back to your room.” If I said his voice didn’t send a jolt of arousal through me, I would be a dirty liar.

“Hm. Okay.” I let the matter drop for the moment. “Promise?”

“Of course.” Our fingers intertwined underneath the table. “I’ll take care of you, baby. I’ll always protect you.”

fin.

A/N: dont @ me im sorry about how awful this is i just wanted to finish it

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faithfulcat111 · 6 years

Text

Just Shapes - Chapter 11

Day 11 (Saturday)

RomanoTaco: hey pat, you ok? PattyCake: ya lo wsnt to mad RomanoTaco: did you tell him? PattyCake: most of it RomanoTaco: im gonna go w verg 2day PattyCake: ok

LBerry: Planets are to be pitied as they cannot know how big and cool they are.

Roman managed to slip out of the house with minimal berating from his mom about getting in so late, which he chalked up to a miracle in and of itself. He couldn’t find Elliott or Dr Picani during his late afternoon wanderings, but he did find Talyn back up on the roofs and the two quickly started making there way to the tracks with some more tin soldiers for Talyn to destroy. As they arrived and got into position, Talyn looked over at him and said, “You look horrible. Like you have been through way too many wash cycles, Killer.” Roman rolled his eyes, pulling up his legs and waiting for the train to pass before responding, “Look, it’s been a long week.” “Yeah, how much sleep did ya get last night?” Talyn challenged. Roman furrowed his brow as he tried to remember when exactly he went to bed, “I think it was 14 hours. So, less than usual.” Talyn gave some sort of indistinguishable sound of surprise and Roman looked over at them in confusion. “14 hours is less than usual?” Talyn gasped. “Dude, I’m lucky if I hit five.” Roman turned his head away before answering, “Look, I don’t rest well when I sleep. I feel more rested the more I get because of my nightmares.” Talyn hummed in agreement, “Now, nightmares I can understand. But you really shouldn’t be sleeping for 14 or however many hours you do sleep.” Roman didn’t answer, choosing to just lay there as the train passed by. Once it did, he chose to change the subject, “You know what Possum Springs is lacking?” “Wifi? Cell service? Any technology post-1980’s? A public pool?” “All of those, yes. But I was thinking that what Possum Springs is really lacking is-” Roman paused for dramatic effect, “-a serial killer!” Talyn raised a carefully coloured eyebrow at him, “Dude, don’t you count?” Roman huffed, “No, not me! A real bonafide killer who, you know, wants to kill people.” “Well, you did try to kill someone,” Talyn tried to point out. “No, I didn’t,” Roman turned his head away. “People think you did.” “I wasn’t trying to kill him. It was just a thing that happened,” Roman snapped, his voice trailing off as another train came by. Once it passed, Roman stood up and started to walk away. “Wait, where are you going?” Talyn called after him. “Don’t you want to see the monsters?” Roman turned back to them with a sad smile, “No thanks. I’m gonna go find my own.” Talyn’s whole face melted into one of confusion and horror. “Be safe, Talyn. Please,” Roman turned and walked away, not entirely surprised when Talyn didn’t come running after him. After all, he had given them no reason to.

Roman found Virgil at the Ole’ Pickaxe, giving about a hundred different warnings to his employee, Corbin, about what he would do if he came back and found even one part of the store out of place. Roman was impressed that Corbin’s face managed to stay fairly impassive through the whole exchange, only the slightest inkling of worry etching on his brow. As soon as Roman and Virgil finally left, Virgil lit up a cigarette and said, blowing the smoke into the air, “I hope I didn’t terrify him too bad. He’s a good employee.” Roman frowned, “He didn’t look hardly scared to me.” Virgil smirked as he unlocked the car, “Oh, he was freaking terrified. Corbin’s just really good at hiding it. Now buckle up, it’s a long drive.” “How long?” Roman asked as he shut his door. “90 minutes give or take, depending on how many people are out on the road,” Virgil said, snuffing out his cigarette before climbing in himself. Virgil was right, it was a long drive. Roman was extremely tired still, so he dozed on and off while Virgil blared loud music from the stereo. It was only when they pulled into a small town that Virgil turned the music down and Roman started to pay attention to the town. “I’ve never been to Gainesville before?” Virgil took another puff of the cigarette he was smoking, “Yeah, it is kinda small compared to wherever you went to school, but it has a university. Nice college town. Maybe you should have come here, then you wouldn’t have been so far away.” Roman grunted, “Yeah, maybe. Who do you even know here though?” “Old friend from high school, you probably don’t know her,” Virgil said as he started to pull into an open spot on the side of the street. “Really?” Roman questioned. When Virgil didn’t respond, Roman huffed and turned to look back out the window. He noticed the sign of one of the storefronts, “Hey, look! They have a scouts program here! Remember when we were in that.” Virgil hummed as he stepped out of the car, “Yeah, that’s where we met.” “Why did you even pick me out of all people to hang out with there?” Roman asked, closing his door behind him. “I started hanging with you cause I was new and you seemed smart and fun,” Virgil explained. Roman turned to him, “Well, what am I now?” “Fun,” Virgil deadpanned. “I hate how you keep saying I’m not smart,” Roman huffed, following Virgil who had started walking down the street. “Sorry,” Virgil said with a smirk. “I’m mostly kidding.” “Mostly?” Roman questioned but didn’t get a chance to continue as Virgil quickly snuffed out his cigarette, returned the other half to his case, and started down a set of stairs. Roman quickly scrambled after him, following him into what seemed to be a basement bar. A girl with short brown hair was standing at the bottom of the stairs, peering up with a glass bottle in her hands. As soon as she recognized Virgil, she exclaimed, “Verge! Where have you been? I was beginning to think you wouldn’t make it!” Roman peered around Virgil as he said, “Yeah, sorry about that.” The girl laughed, “Dude, it’s no issue. But I have a few possible prospects and I didn’t want to let that go to waste. Boy, you reek of cigarette smoke!” “This whole place does,” Virgil snarked, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets. “Yeah, but it is wafting off of you. I thought you said you were gonna cut back and try to- who is this?” the girl had finally noticed Roman and was now glaring at him. Roman tried for a nice smile, holding out a hand, “Hi, I’m Ro-” “Everyone knows who you are, Roman Sanders,” the girl crossed her arms, one long fingernail against her bottle. “Oh, um,” Roman pulled his hand back as he struggled to find some way to respond to that. “Valerie,” Virgil cautioned. “I brought him. Now, what is the plan?” Valerie narrowed her eyes before turning to Virgil, “Dancing first. When the guys I have my eye on come back, then we move in.” “Are you sure?” Virgil asked, his voice dropping more and more into his deadpan. “Now, Verge, have I ever let you down before?” “Well, there was that one debacle with the-” “Other than that incident we never speak of,” Valerie cut him off. Virgil sighed then shook his head. “Good, let’s go.” “Man, she is intense,” Roman whispered to Virgil as they followed her out to the dance floor. “Yeah, well, she is just looking out for me. She was my only friend in high school,” Virgil said. Roman stopped as the reminder hit him, letting Virgil go slightly out in front of him before following once again. They weren’t out on the dance floor for very long before Valerie stopped them and pointed back towards the entrance. “I see them. Let’s go,” she grabbed Virgil’s hand and made to pull him towards whomever she had her targets set on, but Virgil dug in his heels quickly. He looked back at Roman, “You’ll be okay, right?” “Yeah, I’ll come find you when I’m done dancing,” Roman nodded. “Okay, no alcohol, remember.” And with that, Virgil was gone, following Valerie through the crowd. Roman continued to dance for a while but was beginning to think that he should get a drink when he spotted someone leaning against the wall. He slowly walked over greeting them with a loud hi. The mysterious person looked over at him, their piercing blue eyes staring directly at him from under their fluffy blue bangs, “Hey.” “Um, do I know you?” Roman asked, vaguely noticing a hint of black ink peeking out from under the person’s scarf. “Nope,” the person said, a smile on their face. “What’s your name?” “Roman. Roman Sanders,” he introduced himself with a slight bow. “Roman,” they repeated. “I like it. Sounds like it could be royalty if your last name was King or Prince.” Roman laughed, “Nope. But I could be a witch for all you know. Maybe I have hexed you with my name.” The undeniably cute person laughed in response, a dimple appearing in their right cheek, “Well, Roman Sanders. What’s your story?” Roman thought for a long moment. He could lie, but this cute girl, boy? Whatever they were, he just didn’t feel like lying to them. “I’m a recent college dropout,” he explained. “I am chasing a ghost or it is chasing me, I’m not really sure. I’ve had these dreams that I’m not sure were dreams, more like jumbled bits of history. I think I met god, but who’s to say. But I’m pretty sure the ghost kidnapped someone. I’m like 90% sure I didn’t imagine that, but my friends aren’t buying it. I came home in order to feel normal again, but that isn’t really working out. But then I came here and I saw you and…” Roman trailed off, looking up at those gorgeous eyes again. Upon realizing they looked extremely worried, he laughed nervously, scratching at the back of his neck, “I just realized I’ve never listed that all out at once before.” “Wow,” they breathed out. “I stole your life story.” Roman chuckled, ‘Yeah, I guess.” “Hey,” the person reached out to grab Roman’s hand. “Watch this,” they placed their own hand on top of Roman’s and then traced a pattern over top with a blue-painted finger. Roman instantly felt about ten times calmer. “Wow,” he breathed. “Pretty cool, huh?” they smiled, still holding onto Roman’s hand. Roman looked back up at those eyes, “Wow.” They chuckled and then they both just stood there for a long moment. Roman finally said, “Um, I’m gonna go let my friend know I’m over here. I told him I would let him know when I was done dancing.” “Okay,” they leaned in a little closer. “You do that.” They dropped Roman’s hand, leaning back against the wall. Roman took a step back, finding moving very difficult. “I-I’ll be right back,” he managed. “I’ll be here.” Roman took another two steps back before finally turning and ducking through the crowd, trying to find Virgil and/or Valerie and let them know he was going to be over there talking to that bombshell of a person. He found both of them talking to a couple of more guys. “Hey Verge!” he called out as he walked over to stand next to his friend, eyeing the glass bottle of bright green liquid in his hands. “Hey Roman. This is Nate,” Virgil said, waving at one of the guys who merely hummed, scratching at the stubble on his chin. “And I’m Sloane,” the other guy said, a smile on his face. “Your friend is pretty cool.” “Yeah,” Roman looked up at Virgil, noting how rigid he was standing. “Yeah, he’s pretty alright. Did he tell you I saw a ghost the other day?” Roman raised an eyebrow in confusion as Virgil giggled, but Sloane just asked, “Like Memento Mori?” “Yeah, yeah, sick transit glorya nerd,” Roman scoffed. When Virgil giggled again, he turned more towards him, “You’re laughing a lot.” “So,” Nate spoke up, apparently not having heard Roman’s comment. “Virgil, that’s an old name. Like something you hear in a book.” “A book you like?” Virgil suggested. Roman looked up at his friend in confusion. This was very weird. Did Virgil always act this way around others when Roman wasn’t around? That couldn’t be right. “I used to read a lot,” he spoke up, trying to redirect the conversation with the first thing that popped into his mind. “My grandad read to me when I was younger. Before he got dementia and died.” There was silence for a moment before Nate spoke again, “Sorry about your grandad, dude.” “It’s okay, it was years ago,” Roman shrugged. “Virgil’s mom is dead too.” Virgil let out another nervous giggle, hissing between his teeth, “Roman, stop.” “It’s okay,” Roman turned back towards the boys, purposely avoiding Valerie’s darkening glare. “I’m sure everyone here knows someone who has died.” There was silence for a long moment and Roman was starting to worry when Sloane spoke up, “My dog died last spring when my house exploded. There was a gas leak from when my dad hit the line trying to dig up the dog we had before that because we were going to move and my dad said he had to come with us.” There was silence for another long moment as everyone stared this time at Sloane. “Wow,” Valerie finally said, breaking everyone’s stares. “So, Nate, what are you majoring in?” Virgil asked, trying to get the conversation back to where it was before. “Political science,” Nate said, taking a sip from his own bottle, the liquid a murky brown. “Oh, that’s cool. Are there a lot of jobs in that?” Virgil asked. “Oh, I don’t know,” Nate shrugged. “I just find it really interesting. I think you have to be pretty materialistic to go to college just to get a job afterwards.” “That’s interesting because-” “Whoa, stop!” Roman cut off Virgil, his voice low. “Check out rich kid over here. Gonna pay zillions of dollars to go to school just cause something ‘is interesting.’ Verge, check this guy out. You ever worked a day in your life, prep?” Nate took a step back, frowning, “I interned at my uncle’s law firm, yes.” “Well, I bagged groceries,” Roman growled back. Virgil laughed lowly before saying, “That is so interesting. Roman, do you want to go dance some more?” Roman looked up at him, but before he could answer, Virgil gave him a subtle push, “You should go dance.” “Yeah, my parents own their own business, so,” Nate spoke again and Roman chose to stick around while Virgil was distracted again. “Oh, tell me about it,” Virgil asked with genuine interest. “I know a thing or two about running a small business.” Nate smiled, “Wanna go across the street and get a pizza?” “I could eat,” Virgil said. “And it’s a small business!” “You speak their language,” Nate laughed. ��You can get us free slices.” Roman growled. He was sick and tired of this guy. “Verge doesn’t like spoiled rich kids, Maggie.” Valerie cut in, “I would like to go with you guys if you don’t mind.” “Sure,” Virgil said with a smile. “The more the merrier.” Roman was done with this whole situation. Why was Virgil acting so weird? He was obviously still super tense, but wanting to hang with these spoiled brats more. The lights of the bar were starting to blend together in Roman’s peripheral vision, but he had his sights set in on a certain guy who still stood out clearly from the crowd. “Hey Michael, let me tell you something about Virgil Alighieri. He is super on top of things, super smart, and super responsible. He runs like the biggest store in Possum Springs.” “Roman, no,” Virgil whispered. Sloane spoke louder, confusion on his face, “What the heck is Possum Springs?” “It’s west, in the mountains,” Nate explained. Roman just kept going, his eyes flashing, making the red more obvious, “While rich kid over here is studying politicians or whatever, Virgil’s out in the real world. Not like you college kids.” “Roman!” Valerie gasped, her hand clenched so tight that if her bottle was plastic, she surely would have crushed it. “What?” Nate looked over at Virgil in confusion, while Virgil just stared down at the ground, nervously giggling to himself. “I’m kinda over the whole college thing myself. Virgil and I basically run Possum Springs except there’s like a ghost or something,” Roman continued. “You two live in Possum Springs?” Sloane questioned. “Yeah, got a problem with that?” Roman snapped back. “Wow,” Nate whistled. “You drove all the way here from Deep Hollow County? Isn’t that like two hours away?” “No, I…” Virgil trailed off, trying to hide the shaking of his hands. Nate barked out a laugh, elbowing a confused-looking Sloane, “These two drove all the way from Deep Hollow! That’s rich!” “But, aren’t you like a student?” Sloane asked, confused. “Yeah, well, you see, I’m,” Virgil stammered. Suddenly his bottle fell out of his hand, crashing to the floor, spreading sticky soda everywhere. He put one hand up to his mouth and turned and ran, disappearing up the nearby stairs. “Wait! Virgil!” Valerie quickly took off after him. “What was that about?” Roman heard Sloane ask behind him. “I don’t think he’s a student here,” Nate sighed and a sloosh followed. “So?” Sloane still sounded utterly lost. Roman turned to give them a warning growl before running after Virgil. At the top of the stairs, he found Valerie across the street, calling for Virgil. Valerie spotted Roman running across the street and ran to meet him, her eyes dangerously dark. “What the hell was that?” she screamed. “I was going to ask the same thing!” Roman yelled back. “How in the world did you mess that up! He needs this! And now he’s who knows where! I swear, if anything has happened to him, I will personally end you,” she snapped. “Okay, geez!” Roman held up his hands in surrender. “Okay,” Valerie took a deep breath. “I’m going to go up the street, you go down to the docks. We find him, make sure he is safe, and meet back here. Got it?” “Got it,” Roman agreed and the two split, intent on finding their mutual friend. Roman ran down the side of the street, scanning everyone around him through the mist, trying to just spot his friend. Finally, he spies the docks up ahead with a silhouetted figure sitting at the end of one. He makes almost completely there before finally collapsing a few feet away. The figure turned around, Virgil’s dark brown eyes looking at him with contempt. Roman just gasped for air, “Sorry, I just ran all the way here. And it wasn’t even that far. I’m just really out of shape.” Virgil huffed and turned back to the river. He didn’t speak until Roman finally could breathe again and asked, “What happened back there?” “What happened?” Virgil snapped. “You ruined that chance I had! A chance at feeling normal for once in my shitty life! I don’t know if you could even realize how bad it is. My entire life ended the day my mom died. Now I have to take care of what is left of my family and every single day what little chance of a future outside of Possum Springs I have left slips away. You gave up the very thing I want so bad and I can’t help but hate you for it!” Virgil’s voice cracked finally as he lowered his head into his shaking hands. Roman pushed himself back up into a sitting position staring down at his own hands, eyes on a scar running along his left thumb. He muttered, “You don’t know anything about it.” Virgil’s head snapped back towards him, his face faintly flushed red under his foundation, “What is there to know?” Roman growled back, “You judge me, but did you ever ask why I left?” “Yeah. Your first day back.” “Oh,” Roman deflated, the little bit of righteous anger left leaving as his whole body sagged. “Right.” There was silence for a moment, as Virgil looked back out at the river. “So,” Virgil finally asked. “Why did you leave?” Roman blinked, staring at the strangely shaped boats across the river, “I… I don’t know. My head is in pieces right now. Any answer would sound nuts.” “Oh, well that’s illuminating,” Virgil deadpanned with a roll of his eyes. At this point, only his hands still shaking betrayed that he wasn’t totally emotionless. “Shut up,” Roman growled. “All this stuff going on all week? Ghosts and shit? I met this god thing for crying out loud. And look, we’re both trapped. But we’re trapped together. And I’m sorry.” Virgil looked back at him in surprise, “I don’t think you’ve ever apologized to me for anything.” “Well,” Roman shrugged. “I guess I’m full of surprises.” After another long moment, he asked, “Would we be friends if he weren’t stuck together?” Virgil sighed before admitting, “I don’t know.” After another long moment, Virgil groaned again before lowering his head back into his hands, “My life is so embarrassing. Why did I even come here? I almost didn’t. If you hadn’t said yes, I would have cancelled on Valerie.” “Hey,” Roman scooted closer so he was sitting next to his friend. “You are genuinely one of the strongest people I know. It takes a lot of bravery to try and change the entire course of one’s life.” Virgil snorted, his smile more genuine then any other he had given that night, “And I guess you aren’t as big of an idiot as I say. And you’re a genuinely good person.” Roman smiled, turning to look back over at the misty river, “I’ll take it. And tonight was a complete loss. I met a cute… someone.” “Really?” Virgil looked over at Roman with a cocked eyebrow. “What’s their name?” Roman opened his mouth to answer, but stopped, his eyes wide, “I-I don’t know. I didn’t even get their contact information. Virgil, we have to come back sometime!” He reached over, grabbing Virgil’s sleeve and shaking it with wide eyes while Virgil just laughed. “Okay, okay, we’ll come back,” he said as he pushed himself to his feet, holding out one still-shaking hand to help Roman to his feet as well. “We should make good time going home, it is such a clear night.” Roman looked back at the misty night behind them in confusion, before turning and chasing after Virgil.

#sanders sides #roman sandrs #virgil sanders #my writing #faith writes

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