#too okay. anyways stop TORMENTING THIS LITTLE GIRL. i hate it. i feel SICK and OUTRAGED.

[suncaptor]

i'm going to eat glass. she writes letters for her dead dad in her journal. i can't handle this.

[sleeping-on-cracking-ice]

IDK if your taking requests 🥺👉👈 But if it's open... Could you maybe write an imagine with chishiya, where Niragi trys to get under his skin by making chishiya's s/o uncomfortable 😱

Cruel Entertainment | Shuntaro Chishiya (ft. Suguru Niragi)

{AIB Masterlist}

Summary: Niragi scares you and Chishiya gets defensive

Warnings(s): murder, blood, threatening, swearing, Niragi being a murderous bastard (as usual)

Word Count: 1.8k

*reader is gender-neutral

(A/N): this went down a more different plot than this, but this scenario is a element of it

“Look I don’t mean to complain, but this seems really unnecessary,”

All eyes in the meeting room turned to your figure sitting on the edge of the table. The silence that followed your statement felt personal, making you frown slightly at the annoyed faces that the militants seemed to hold.

Aguni had suggested the executives and the militants comes together for a meeting in order to discuss moving some militants up further on the number tags. 

“How is this unnecessary Y/N?” Aguni spoke up, leaning forward on the table and resting his arms. His dead eyes met yours down the other head of the table, making you grow slightly nervous at the number of eyes that were on you.

Before you spoke up, your eyes flickered towards that of Chishiya’s, your boyfriend. When he caught your glance, he lifted a subtle hand to his throat and gave a gesture to tell you to be quiet.

Ever since Hatter had died and Aguni had taken over, your right to speak your mind had been diminishing, but you weren’t going to give it up as easy as the others seemed to have.

You gulped before turning back to Aguni, deciding to ignore Chishiya’s advice. If no one else had the tits to say something, then you would.

“Why are you moving your militants to a higher ranking? Everything was going fine until you came into power,” you started, keeping a stoic expression on that heavily contradicted your inner emotions.

Aguni raised an eyebrow and looked towards the right side of the table, where his second in command Niragi sat. The imperious man smirked at cocked an eyebrow at your words, making you feel uneasy.

“Is that so?” Aguni spoke in a creepily deep tone and leant back from the table, resting in his chair.

You nodded, keeping eye contact. “Don’t listen to me or whatever Aguni, but we don’t exactly know what will happen when we collect all the cards. I know you’d hate to admit it, but I think moving the numbers for your murderous ‘besties’ so they can escape the Borderlands quicker isn’t your intention here.”

You swore you were suffocating on the air in the room. You could smell the tension between your words and the rest of the executives. It was making Chishiya’s leg shake underneath the table and his eyes roll into the back of his head at your naiveness.

Furthermore, without your knowledge, to Niragi, your forehead seemed like a perfect target at that moment.

“Y-you know, Y/N has a point,” a young girl voiced up, making all eyes shift off of you for a quick moment. She sat a few seats down, holding her head slightly low and speaking in a quiet voice. “Perhaps we should vote on things rather than just immediately putting them in place though. If we do that, The Beach would be more democratic.”

You silently thanked her in your head and turned back to Aguni, but his stoic expression didn’t seem to change.

“Alright,” he said casually as he stood up. Looking over the table and the people at it, all silent, he spoke up. “Anyone that agrees with Y/N, raise your hand high.”

You glanced around the table with a slightly desperate look in your eye, hoping at least someone put their hand up. After a few tense seconds, the young girl who spoke put her hand up, followed by a middle-aged man sitting to the right of you and a few others.

You looked at Chishiya, not knowing what to do. He had himself tucked further in his white hoodie, hair hiding his eyes and trying to look as invisible as possible. He gave you a warning stare, shaking his head ‘no’ towards you.

You frowned, confused that he wasn’t contributing. Usually, he wouldn’t hesitate to stir some drama up between the executives and the militants, so it was out of character for him.

Furthermore, the lack of agreements from other executives like Ann and Mira was throwing you off. Knowing their good nature, they wouldn’t allow everything that Hatter had built to suddenly fall to murderous men. They kept their heads low, just like Chishiya, playing with their hands and trying to be as uninvolved as possible.

And soon enough, you realised why.

“Fine,” Aguni said, eyeing the four people that put their hand up in favour of you. You didn’t know too many of them personally, as they hadn’t been at The Beach for long. They were either high ranking players or random contributors to the executives.

“Niragi?” Aguni said, nodding towards the tall male.

Niragi hummed in acknowledgment and stood up quickly, not wasting a second before aiming his rifle towards the young girl and firing.

The blast of blood that fell onto your face made you freeze, realising what you had done.

“WAIT!” you screamed, standing from your seat and screaming towards Niragi. But your cry did nothing as he turned towards the man next to you and fired once again.

You ducked in fear that he was aiming at you, falling to the floor. The sound of bullet meeting bone filled your ear, and you glanced to the side to see the limp body of the man, eyes wide and hole in his bloodied forehead.

The rest of the people that voted in your favour had either dropped their head to the table in defeat or had done the same as you and fallen to the ground to hide behind the table, but Niragi stopped firing once he was sure the man was dead.

You stood from the ground and sat back down in your chair, eyes wide and breathing heavy. You could feel your heartbeat in your head, and your hands shook violently. You attempted to hide it by lacing your fingers together and squeezing, placing them on the table.

You didn’t dare look towards Aguni but glanced towards Chishiya towards the other end. He held wide eyes and shaking hands, staring at you and putting his index finger to his lips in a gesture to make you stay quiet. You nodded lightly.

Niragi let out a loud laugh and stepped out from around his chair, making his way towards you down the end of the table. You didn’t dare move.

“See what happens when you speak your mind!” he exclaimed, coming up behind you and placing a harsh hand on your shoulder. You jumped at the sudden impact and your eyebrows furrowed in annoyance.

Not being impressed by your lack of reaction, Niragi gripped your hair and pulled your head back so you made eye contact with him. He leant forward over you, looking you dead in the eyes as you yelped from his harsh hold on you.

“Maybe, you should learn to shut the fuck up for once kitten,” he growled into your face, making you cringe from his hot breath on your skin. “That mouth of yours could get you in a lot of trouble.”

Chishiya shook in his seat, hand gripping the end of the table harshly at the sight of his S/O getting tormented. A million thoughts were racing through his mind, trying to think of something that he could do to help you but not endanger anyone else.

He looked towards Niragi, noticing the dark-haired man’s eyes flicker towards him from you. Just as he did so, he noticed Niragi running a hand down the side of your neck, making you flinch heavily. The humiliation of this happening in front of your peers was unbearable, more so in front of Chishiya.

“Niragi,” the blonde stood up, having had enough. Niragi pulled himself away from you, looking towards Chishiya’s tense body with a smirk on his face.

“It’s okay, you can leave them alone,” Chishiya said with a monotone tone, trying to seem calm. “They’ve learnt their lesson.”

The mere sight of seeing the murderous man near you was enough to make Chishiya’s heart rate quicken. Although he doesn’t seem it, he’s a very nervous person, especially when it came to your safety.

Niragi doesn’t move, contemplating what he should do as he kept a firm grip on your shoulder. You were frozen beneath him, wincing at the growing strength he was applying to your collarbones.

He let go, allowing you to let out a large breath. “Fine, save your little toy then Shuntaro,” he grumbled in annoyance and moving back to his seat. He knew that if he had a bigger scene than it already was in front of Aguni, he could perhaps lose his control as second-in-command.

You held your head down in humiliation, not daring to look up for the rest of the meeting, not even towards Chishiya, who was trying to get your attention to check that you were okay. After that shit-show, you made sure not to attract unwanted attention.

After the meeting, you didn’t even get a chance to stand up properly before Chishiya grabbed your hand and dragged you out into the hall. He pulled you towards an open balcony to escape anyone else that was around before turning around and facing you.

“Let me see you,” he demanded, making you furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “Your neck. Did he hurt you?” he asked frantically while pushing your chin up to look at the skin on your neck to see if there were any bruises. You shook your head and pushed his hands away.

“I’m fine Chishiya,” you insisted. But the way that you stared at the ground wasn’t convincing.

“...I killed them... didn’t I?” you croaked out, fiddling with the skin of your hands. The blood from the two innocent people Niragi had murdered was stained along your skin, making you feel physically sick. You almost wished Niragi had just shot you instead of the other two. It was you who spoke up anyway.

Chishiya sighed heavily and brought his hand to your face, holding your cheek in his palm. You felt slight tears run down your face, causing you to quickly wipe them away.

“Y/N, people are always going to die. You can’t stop it,” he said, running his thumb across your cheekbone. “That wasn’t your fault. They had the choice to not put their hand up.”

You nodded, trying to convince yourself it’s not your fault.

“But for now, we need to focus on our own safety,” Chishiya said, making you shift your gaze from the ground to his eyes. “We need to make sure we’re prepared to leave if any of the militants come after us within the next few days.”

Chishiya held your face in both of his hands and brought your lips together for a quick kiss, making more tears fall from your face at the comforting feeling of his warmth.

When he pulled away, he gave a sad smile and pulled you in for a hug, tucking your face into his shoulder by pushing on your head. “Make sure you stay by my side. Don’t worry, I won’t let Niragi get anywhere near you.”

(A/N): I’m sorryyyyy i know this isn’t that good. i rly need to rewatch some aib again cause it’s been ages since i last watched anything from it alsjldkajslja

[rivalsforlife]

Phoenix Wright: The Truth Reborn: Oh No We’re Doing This Again

hi.

Nearly two months ago, I wrote an essay summarizing and making very wild conclusions about the second Takarazuka Musical. I did this about two and a half years after watching the first Takarazuka musical. As such I did not have the full context for many things from the musical and was relying mostly on my memory, which blocked many things from this musical for my own safety. However, just this week, I decided to rewatch it, because I enjoy tormenting myself. I said I wouldn’t write anything on it. Here I am writing something on it.

Here’s the youtube thumbnail so that you know what you’re getting yourself into. And here, of course, is the link. This is the HD version which may be slightly more pleasant to watch. Maybe.

It was not quite as cringe in a funny way as the second musical to me, and therefore this essay may be less funny, but I feel like I’m doing a disservice to people by providing a summary of the second musical while completely neglecting the first. Quite possibly doing this is even more of a disservice. I just eagerly await the day that the third musical is translated because *that* will be the day that I finally shuffle off this mortal coil. Either way, I want to write this stuff down so that I never have to watch the musical again out of curiosity.

The following essay will contain major spoilers for both the first and second Phoenix Wright Takarazuka musicals, as I will be using many points from this musical to argue my thesis of the second musical. ... like you were going to watch them anyways. 

This one broke 8k. I’m dead inside.

Introducing The Director

Again another disclaimer that I don’t have anything against the actresses or the theatre troupe. I DO have something against Suzuki Kei, who I recently learned is the writer and director of all three of the Ace Attorney Takarazuka musicals, and is quite possibly my mortal nemesis.

This man is the one who brought this monstrosity into the world.

This man, allegedly, cleared the first four ace attorney games *seven times* before sitting down to write these musicals. He played these goddamn games seven times and did not take in a single word. The man clicked through them mindlessly while watching a badly written legal romance drama in the background and got them completely confused. I genuinely have no idea how this man could have played these games more times than even me and yet managed to get so many characters (MAYA!!!!) completely and utterly wrong. This haunts me every day, truly.

This man played Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney, Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney - Justice for All, Phoenix Wright: Ace Attorney - Trials and Tribulations, and Apollo Justice: Ace Attorney seven times. SEVEN TIMES EACH!! and was told to create a musical based on the series. He played these games seven times each and you know what he said?? You know what he said?? “This sucks, I’m getting rid of all of Phoenix’s backstory, butchering half the characters, and writing Phoenix/Lana fanfiction, but also rewriting all of Lana’s backstory so that she was Phoenix’s childhood friend, and you know what, I’m changing her name for good measure.”

I think this man played the games seven times each and then hated it so much and was so sick of it he tried to write something that destroyed as much of the series as possible while still being vaguely recognizable. And then somehow it became a massive hit because people like me see this and go “what the actual hell” and watch it, or people who haven’t played the games see this and go “wow what a great musical!” and then he wrote TWO MORE, destroying EVEN MORE every time in his wake, until finally, finally, he stopped after making Edgeworth straight and time traveling into the past to face off against a corrupt Gregory. I guess that was the last straw.

I have to issue a disclaimer here that for legal reasons this is a joke. I don’t actually hate this man and would not punch him in the face if I met him because that would be rude, and he is entitled to his wrong interpretation of the games. I don’t know what his thought process was. But allegedly he did play the games seven times according to the wiki. This whole essay here is satire and not slander and I don’t want to offend this guy if he somehow stumbles across my nonsense tumblr post. At the same time: Suzuki Kei blink twice if you need help.

Anyways half the reason that I’m making this essay is because I want to share my fake ao3 page for this musical. The other half will become apparent later.

Sorry if that’s illegible because of tumblr quality it’s not really important. All you really need to know is that it’s a fake ao3 screenshot for the musical. Also in the author’s note I said he played the games four times but it was actually seven I just remembered wrong because I didn’t want to believe it.

at this point you may be like “Grace shut up and get to the actual musical” and okay, fine, let’s start this nonsense. Also note that I may be referencing things from my essay on the second musical very frequently; I’m not going to force you to go read that though because the fact that you’re reading this is enough of a torment already.

The Musical Begins

Unlike the second musical, this one opens with some narration from Phoenix.

Transcript:

Phoenix: I’m reviewing a particular case at the moment. To me, this case... is one I’ll never forget.

Immediately I think this is important because it establishes that this whole musical takes place in a flashback that Phoenix is reflecting on. Why is this important? Because we know, by the time of the second musical which takes place three years later, Leona is dead.

Knowing that Leona is inherently doomed to die of her Sad Woman Disease paints this whole musical in a different light. It’s not Phoenix reflecting on how he got back together with his lover; it’s Phoenix dwelling on their past together, and the opportunities they had, before her life was so cruelly and inexplicably taken away. We don’t know if Phoenix’s reminiscing takes place before or after Leona’s death... but I wouldn’t be surprised if it was after.

Phoenix, still in the present, starts to sing. “A wave appears on the horizon like a mirage, it trembles, then vanishes. Your voice, carried upon the waves, fades upon the shore, erasing the splendor of the past.”

This line actually shows up in the second musical, sung by Lucia about her imprisoned fiance quite possibly. It’s kind of hard to tell what the meaning of these songs even are. They’re too abstract for me I think. But this line appears very frequently in the first musical when Phoenix is thinking about Leona.

Then we enter the flashback time.

Phoenix inexplicably yells at a newspaper saleswoman. This is not relevant to anything whatsoever. Then Larry barges in to the office, looking for Maya. Phoenix describes him as “A real trouble maker, but you just can’t hate the guy”, the latter part of which I think many people would disagree with. 

Well, afterwards, Maya comes in. Phoenix describes her like this while making exaggerated “can you believe this shit” gestures.

Transcript:

Phoenix: She’s as ditzy as they come. Oh, and about the outfit... Apparently she comes from a family of spirit mediums. Try not to make fun of her, okay?

Suzuki Kei personally has it out for Maya and I can never forgive him for it. Maya in these musicals is here for pure comedic relief but it’s not even comedic because I just get so angry. How can you play the trilogy seven times and think this about her?? The girl who figured out DL-6?? The girl who told Phoenix to sacrifice her life in order to find the truth?? The girl who put on a brave smile in order to try and cheer up her younger cousin even after she saw her own mother murdered right in front of her eyes?? That Maya Fey?? Ditzy as they come??????

Ugh. Moving on.

Maya and Larry run off, leaving Phoenix to watch the American Broadcast.

Important things to note here are the Godot mug, the little line up of what I think are the messed up little ace attorney figurines beneath the screen, and the fact that while this broadcast is supposedly from and to America the screen is actually not at all showing America. Like literally almost everywhere in the world except North and South America.

The broadcast says that Leona Clyde, age 24, was arrested for murdering the senator Robert Cole! Leona Clyde -- that’s Phoenix’s ex-girlfriend! He runs off to the detention center.

She is not happy to see him.

Leona: Mr. Wright... I’m not the woman you once knew.

Let’s Play A Matching Game

Sorry for the abundance of screenshots that are going to be throughout this section. Phoenix convinces Leona to let him defend her. Some of the conversation seems... familiar.

Leona: No one would defend someone who admits to killing a senator. I’m waiting for a court-appointed attorney.

Edgeworth: Every defense attorney I’ve talked to has turned me down.

Phoenix: In that case, let me defend you.

Game Phoenix: Let me defend you.

Leona: Don’t be ridiculous!

Edgeworth: Don’t be ridiculous.

Phoenix: I’ll never accept that you’re a murderer. Let me prove your innocence!

Game Phoenix: Huh? Isn’t it obvious? I’m going to prove that Miles Edgeworth is innocent.

Leona: I’ve already confessed my guilt.

Gumshoe: He confessed that he did it! In court!

Leona: It’s foolish to think you can win this case.

Edgeworth: My case is near hopeless, Wright.

Leona: (in response to phoenix offering to defend her) No you won’t! Don’t ever come here again.

Edgeworth: Look, just go away, and leave me alone!

Phoenix: You of all people should know. Once I decide to do something, I see it through to the end.

Edgeworth: Once you start on something, you always see it through, don’t you?

Leona: I never thought that you’d be representing me.

Phoenix: Ah, who could have guessed this day would come?

Edgeworth: Not me.

Phoenix: You believed in me. You saved me. And this time, I swear... I swear I’ll save you!

Game Phoenix: Edgeworth believed in me, and I believe in him. I’m the only one who knows the real Edgeworth. I’m the only one who can help him.

I could’ve done a few more, but tumblr is already threatening to murder my laptop.

So long story short, Phoenix manages to convince his lover to let him be the defense on the case. Then immediately after swearing to save Leona, he starts singing a song, which I’m not screencapping because this is enough:

“As long as there are people in this world, there’s only one path I will follow! As long as there is love in this world, there’s only one path I will believe in!”

Edgeworth sings this in the second musical after saying that he returned to California because of Phoenix. Phoenix sings it now after swearing to defend Leona. You draw your own conclusions.

And then we finally get the opening credits. Eleven minutes in.

Just Pretend This Is Narumitsu Fanfiction

Following the credits, we see a beautiful beach. Couples (exclusively heterosexual, of course,) dance and embrace in the background for some time, before revealing Phoenix and Leona, in the Even Further Past, before the LSATs or whatever the ace attorney universe’s excuse for law school exams are.

Phoenix establishes his absolute hatred of change, an important characterization moment.

Phoenix: The view here never changes, huh?

Phoenix reminisces on when they were kids. Leona’s parents were both lawyers (they’re both lawyers) and sometimes they would be like lawyers with her when she was a kid. This inspired her to also become a lawyer after their tragic death of Sickness. They never specify what the sickness is that caused two people who must be relatively young to die while Leona was in her early twenties at the latest. It may be whatever sickness claimed Leona’s life later. Sad Woman Disease. (Sad Man Disease for her father, I guess?)

Phoenix also talks about why he’s becoming a lawyer.

Phoenix: Watching you chase your dream inspired me to become a lawyer too.

So, it’s not “my childhood friend looked sad in a newspaper” because I guess that makes no sense or is too gay or something. But this is another important piece of Phoenix characterization. His entire life so far has been focused around Leona. They’ve been friends since they were kids, and then Phoenix decided to become a lawyer solely because Leona was becoming a lawyer. Not even to try and get back into contact with her after she moved away or anything; just because he’s so obsessed with her that he wants to have the same career as her, then they can run a Mom & Pop Law Firm or something, years in the future, after years of happy marriage and a few children or like whatever the hell.

Well, there’s a few steps they’ll need to get to that. At this point Phoenix still hasn’t confessed his feelings for Leona. He does so here, on this beach.

Leona tries to protest.

Leona: But I’m pushy, selfish, and only care about my goals... You’d get fed up with me.

Phoenix: That’s what I’ve always admired about you. That’s who I’ve been chasing all these years. That’s the only person... I love.

Sooo, Phoenix, your type is pushy selfish people who only care about their goals...? In the first, older lower-quality video translation it was “only care about my work”, too. Hm. Things to think about.

They sing a little duet together. Then we go back to present-day of what’s technically still a flashback. Whatever. Murder is happening.

Back To The Murder

So some plot things to establish: Leona is the legal counsel of Governor Miller, who is running for president in the AMERICAN PRESIDENTIAL ELECTION. After the flashback so that Phoenix has some time to change clothes, they show an interview of him talking about the murder.

Governor Miller: I vow to forge a peaceful country with my own two hands, and to prepare myself for whatever may lie ahead.

Reporters: Through thick and thin, he’s a friend of the people!

The Takarazuka musicals are not very good at hiding their killers.

Phoenix: Oh yeah... It’s almost time for the presidential election, isn’t it?

NEVER FORGET, WRIGHT. THIS IS AMERICA. LAND OF THE FREE! god what even was that line.

Anyways, we meet Gumshoe, who is incompetent once again. Maya runs around the crime scene, picks up the murder weapon, puts her fingerprints all over everything, moves things around, all while Phoenix is like “lol get a load of the world’s stupidest girl” or whatever. But who cares about that.

It’s time to get to the only valid part of this musical.

Edgeworth’s Gay Little Villain Solo

You may have seen this one before.

Edgeworth arrives, but not really. It’s like Phoenix heard Edgeworth was prosecuting and immediately entered a dream-like state, where Edgeworth is heralded by the sound of trumpets in Great Revival. He’s played by a different actress than in the other two musicals, since I think she retired in between the six or so months from this musical to the second. She still plays the role well, though, or as well as can be when you’re written in an ace attorney Takarazuka musical.

Shrouded in scarlet solitude... it’s Edgeworth.

Yes, those are six Edgeworths. Yes, they pick Phoenix up and carry him around and dance with him. Yes, it was probably not meant to be at all homoerotic.

He sings a song that’s called “My rule”. I only figured this out later, but it’s loosely based on a “catchphrase” of his in the Japanese version - in game 1 he says something along the lines of “All I can do is get every defendant declared guilty! So I make that my policy.” In DD in his dramatic anime introduction before the trial, he says “I intend to question the defendant with all I have. For that is a part of my creed.” “So I make that my policy” and “For that is a part of my creed”, to my understanding, are both translated from the same line, which I think is like, “sore ga watashi no ruru”, “That is my rule.” (If I’m wrong, please correct me.) In this song he sings about how he’ll reduce all criminals to ash and such, basically talks about his game 1 prosecuting strategy as “my rule”. 

It’s very fun and probably if you want to only watch one number of this musical, it can be this one. It starts about 26:10 in the video I linked.

Once the musical number is done, Phoenix and Edgeworth stare at each other, and the background fades into the courtroom, so court begins. I feel like I should note that Phoenix has not picked up any evidence or talked to any witnesses in this investigation except for Gumshoe, since Maya just moved some things around and then Phoenix had some weird fever dream about Edgeworth which presumably took up the rest of the day.

The Trial, Day 1

Edgeworth: Consider it a prelude to the poignant Greek tragedy that’s about to unfold.

Maya: The real tragedy’s your pompous attitude!

Those are the only screenshots I took of this trial day. Here’s a summary, though:

The trial starts off with Leona confessing, Phoenix says “no I think she’s innocent”, and since ace attorney doesn’t care about the defendant’s wishes he’s allowed to proceed. For some reason Leona lets him do this without complaint. 

Gumshoe is the first witness, he claims to have caught Leona red-handed at the scene of the crime, standing over the corpse. Phoenix tries to claim that since Gumshoe didn’t see Leona committing the crime, he didn’t actually catch her red-handed, to which Edgeworth responds “What do you think being caught red-handed means?” 

Once Gumshoe is dismissed, Lotta takes the stand. She has a photo of the actual moment of the crime, where Leona is holding a knife in the air in front of the victim. 

The Takarazuka musicals like to do this thing where the image is blurry and zoomed out, but then Phoenix will go “I’VE NOTICED A CONTRADICTION” and it zooms in really far as the resolution increases drastically in order to show you the contradiction that is impossible to spot for yourself, because they don’t want people figuring out the mystery in this musical based off of a video game where you have to solve the mystery yourself. Anyways Phoenix zooms in on this photo and sees that there’s blood on Leona’s hand, presumably before she stabbed the victim. How did it get there?

Edgeworth suggests the victim was stabbed multiple times. Phoenix says the autopsy report contradicts that. Edgeworth, uncharacteristically, does not update it to suit his argument. 

Phoenix concludes that this photo is not showing the moment Leona stabbed the victim, but the moment Leona removed the knife! ... Which somehow casts doubt on her having been the one to stab the victim. Because as everyone knows, anyone wanting to kill someone would never remove a knife, it’s not like they’d bleed out faster that way, or anything.

And this whole contradiction is confusing because presumably if the victim was stabbed and then the knife was removed, they’d know that happened, because then the knife would not be found stuck in the victim’s body, since the victim was only stabbed once. So this shouldn’t be news to the prosecution that someone removed the knife after stabbing. But the investigation was headed by the most incompetent version of Gumshoe ever, so. sure. I guess no one knew.

That at least manages to extend the trial another day.

This Totally Has To Be Illegal

After the trial, Phoenix goes to talk to Governor Miller, aka Mr. Totally The Real Killer. Phoenix asks him why he decided to hire Leona as his legal advisor.

Basically, it’s because her parents were both renowned lawyers. Her father was a Chief Prosecutor, and her mother was a defense attorney. ... a prosecutor and a defense attorney couple... who does that remind us of...

Phoenix points out that just because her parents were good lawyers, it doesn’t mean she’d necessarily be one. Miller says that, sure, but she is actually really talented, and her law school marks were spectacular. Phoenix says “WHY WERE YOU LOOKING AT HER LAW SCHOOL MARKS”, like it’s somehow? suspicious? for a government official hiring legal counsel to look at their law school marks?

Apparently it IS suspicious because Governor Miller freaks out and asks if this is an interrogation. Before Phoenix can press much further, he gets a phone call, and leaves Phoenix alone in a big room.

So naturally Phoenix behaves like a fully grown adult running a law firm.

If all he did was sit in the chair, lift up a desk lamp, and poke his finger on a pen, that’s one thing. But then he leans over, OPENS THE GOVERNOR’S DESK DRAWER, and finds a knife that’s just sitting there casually. It looks like a butter knife. It’s not anything major. Maybe the dude just wanted to butter his toast?

I mean I know Phoenix will dig around in stuff whenever in the games, but he has no reason to suspect Governor Miller at all, much less dig through his drawer probably full of confidential government documents to lift up a knife that he thinks is suspicious. It’s not even covered in blood or anything?

Naturally Governor Miller’s assistant comes in just then, and Phoenix puts the knife. in his breast pocket. 

bud. It may look like a butter knife, but putting knives up against your chest is not a great idea. Much less stealing a knife from a governor? 

Well, in his panic, he accidentally knocks over a bunch of books on the desk. The governor’s assistant helps him pick them up, and they find a photo. Look a little familiar?

The photo has the assistant, the victim Robert Cole, Governor Miller, and the victim’s brother who died in an incident two years ago. He’s the “Neil Marshall” of this musical, and he died in what was essentially the SL-9 incident. Same general premise, except it occurred in the courthouse, and the names are different.

AND FINALLY WE REACH THE END OF ACT 1. They do a musical number here which is a weird sort of mashup of the main opening credits song, Edgeworth’s Villain Solo, and the love duet between Phoenix and Leona. They are all such different songs that it sounds a little weird.

ACT 2, FINALLY

The act begins on a sour note with Maya playing with the knife and showing off her characterization, which is one of the most infuriating Maya characterizations you’ll sometimes see around the fandom by people who don’t like Maya.

Maya: Let me whip up my special spirit channeler hamburgers!

sigh.

But then we’re saved (?) by the arrival of EDGEWORTH, who is presumably just here to chat. He asks Phoenix if he’s defending Leona in hopes of winning her back, then says to keep out of it, since it’s a very important case and he can’t understand the gravity of it.

Then Phoenix says this.

Phoenix: Would you be saying that if you were the one on trial? The defendant is in a dark prison, reaching out for hope... Can you imagine the loneliness and sorrow of being ostracized?

CAN YOU IMAGINE IT, EDGEWORTH? CAN YOU IMAGINE IF YOU WERE ON TRIAL AND I WAS THE ONLY ONE WHO WOULD DEFEND YOU AND BELIEVED IN YOUR INNOCENCE??

Edgeworth responds to this by essentially rehashing his speech in Turnabout Sisters about how he needs to find all defendants guilty because he can’t guarantee their innocence and all that. Maya gets upset and leaves so that Phoenix and Edgeworth can talk about their childhood in private.

Phoenix once again complains about how people change since nine years old.

Phoenix then says that he has something Edgeworth doesn’t: the POWER TO BELIEVE! Then Maya comes in and tries to spike Edgeworth’s coffee, so he leaves.

The Class Trial

Phoenix explains a bit about Edgeworth and his backstory to Maya. Namely, the class trial. Phoenix was accused of stealing lunch money, Edgeworth stood up for him, but instead of Larry, Leona stood up for him. I guess Suzuki Kei thought “oh the class trial, if Leona stood up for him, it would be so romantic, because she’s a woman, and he’s a man”, or something like that. 

Edgeworth wanted to become a Great Lawyer Like His Father! But then he turned cold as ice.

Phoenix: His father got too deeply involved in a case... and paid for it with his life. Edgeworth saw him murdered. He was never the same again. I bet he couldn’t forgive the criminal.

Yeah I bet he couldn’t ever forgive the person he thought killed his father all these years, Phoenix. I bet he really hates that person, Phoenix. I bet he has nightmares about that person killing his father or something, Phoenix.

Phoenix: He vanished, then returned without his mercy or compassion. He had become a monster. When he lost his father, he also lost the ability to believe in others.

So like... one of the most chilling things about this musical is that they never actually solve DL-6. This probably roughly takes place 15 years after DL-6, since they were about the same age when the class trial started, and at least Leona is 24 now. The next musical takes place three years from now, and in it, Edgeworth refers to von Karma as his mentor, implying he’s still around and doing things.

So, in addition to everything else going wrong with this musical, DL-6 still happens, but von Karma never frames Edgeworth for it fifteen years later. The statute of limitations runs out, and von Karma forever gets away with his crime. And Edgeworth has no idea.

What changes did they make to DL-6, though, you may ask? I’m desperate to know as well. In the third musical, which I’ve watched because I hate myself but am unable to fully understand because I don’t know much Japanese, there is a scene where Miles flashbacks to DL-6. It’s abstract, but he makes gun-throwing motions at Gregory, followed by a gunshot sound.

Therefore, in this musical’s internal canon, either Miles Edgeworth shot his father, or he believes he did for the rest of his life.

... moving on.

Phoenix: But he still has his humanity. It’s still there, deep down inside!

At least, if nothing else, Phoenix still believes in him. Even this Takarazuka Musical couldn’t touch that.

The Feenie Sweater

Right after this, Larry barges in, and Phoenix leaves him alone with Maya. The musical tries teasing Larry/Maya, but fortunately, Maya’s having none of it.

Maya: You’re barking up the wrong tree.

Props to this musical for not being as bad as it could have been.

After this, the two sit down on the couch, and Maya asks for more gossip on Phoenix and Leona. Larry launches into a story, which turns into a flashback that ends up being narrated by Phoenix halfway through. This one’s about Phoenix and Leona’s relationship.

This is an interesting line in here, “I’ll guide you to the future”, for it loosely referencing the sort of love ballad Phoenix sings with Lucia in the second musical which is about “I’ll take you to that radiant future”, and he later sings to the memory of Leona right around the time of his big spiral into despair.

I’m sorry if you haven’t read my other essay and just said “wait what” to what I just typed.

Leona was getting ready to move to New York to defend the weak “in the big city”. This is rather strange wording because it implies that California does not in fact have a big city. She says some things in her conversation with Phoenix that probably plant some of his later issues.

Leona: This is the first time we’ll be apart since we were kids.

Leona: We promised we’d always be together.

Leona: I’ll be waiting. Waiting for you to come to me.

Haha. Sure would be a shame... if something were to happen... and they wouldn’t be able to be together anymore...

So some dancers wearing black come in and take off their outer jackets, to symbolize the passage of time. They circle around Phoenix and Leona. In this, you can just barely see, Phoenix is wearing a pink sweater beneath his jacket.

“Oh,” I think to myself, “Is that the Feenie sweater? Are they including it here as a reference to the games?”

Then the dancers keep moving.

THAT IS NOT THE FEENIE SWEATER. That is a pink sweater with a sexily drawn woman on it.

This is the other half of the reason why I decided to go through with making this essay. 

This is so incredibly funny to me. Suzuki Kei Who Has Played The Games Seven Times has seen the hand-knit bright pink sweater with a giant red heart on it seven times. The sweater Iris, Phoenix’s girlfriend, lovingly knit for him that he wears all the time even though it is one of the tackiest, cheesiest items of clothing to ever exist. And so, when the costume designers were designing the clothes for College Phoenix Wright, they asked themselves: “Should we include the Feenie sweater?”

and “NO,” someone must have shouted, “NO, we can NOT include the Feenie sweater, it is PINK and it has a HEART on it and it’s TOO GIRLY. Phoenix Wright is a MANLY MAN. He would not EVER wear something PINK with a HEART on it.”

“BUT,” someone else said, “it’s a REFERENCE to the original games, where he DID wear a pink sweater with a heart on it! We MUST include it to pander to the fans!”

“WAIT,” a third person interjected. “I have a BRILLIANT IDEA. We can keep the pink... But to make it VERY CLEAR he is a heterosexual, masculine male... we put a sexy woman on it.”

And Person Three Got A Raise.

Thank god we’re finally halfway done this musical.

We Just Have To Go On With Our Lives Now

There’s plot or something happening. Leona breaks up with Phoenix inexplicably over the phone. Probably because of that freaking sweater. Imagine wearing that. God.

Eventually we go back to Phoenix talking to Leona, and he asks about the Jack Lyon case, which is the rip-off version of the Joe Darke case. Leona is pretty cagey about it, but Phoenix proves that she was there in the gallery that day. Leona refuses to answer, claims again that she killed the victim in her case, and leaves.

This makes Phoenix sad, so he starts singing.

Phoenix: I want to bring you back! I believe in you.

If this sounds familiar, it’s the part where I started absolutely losing my mind in the second musical because this line had never shown up before then, I’d forgotten it was in this musical, and Phoenix was screaming it alone in a red room, so I thought he was like desperately resorting to a necromancy ritual in hopes of bringing Leona back to life.

Instead, this line actually has CONTEXT, though it does just end up enforcing my theory. This is Phoenix mourning what he used to have with Leona, wanting to bring the “old her” back, because he’s devastated that people sometimes change. There are several flashbacks of their college days where he’s wearing his Sexy Woman Sweater. He does succeed in winning her back at the end of this musical. Before she dies, of course.

Phoenix in musical 2 still believes that he can bring back what he used to have with Leona... even beyond death. That’s something affirmed by this musical. I’m very grateful to it for somehow managing to enforce my nonsensical theory.

Doctor Ema

After this, Phoenix returns to his office, and meets with someone new.

That’s right! Only now, halfway through the musical, do we actually get to meet the Ema-equivalent to Leona’s Lana-equivalent. Her name is Monica Clyde. She has little rainbow heart stickers on her briefcase, which is the closest thing this musical has to acknowledging that gay people exist.

But what does this little briefcase contain, you may ask? Scientific investigation tools? No.

A full surgical toolset. Because you never know when someone’ll get sick, or when someone will need an entire operation in front of you. I guess.

So yes, Monica Clyde is not a forensic scientist in training, but a doctor! She decided to become a doctor because of her parents, who passed away of The Sickness, and so became a doctor in order to save lives like theirs.

Once more this has much darker and deeper implications than the musical is even aware of, because Monica is so anxious about treating sick people that she carries a full surgical toolset around with her at all times, scared to lose someone like she lost her parents... and then sometime in the next three years, Leona, her big sister, is going to die.

Of what? The strange Sickness that claimed her parents? A car accident? A botched spur-of-the-moment surgery? Whatever it is, Monica was unable to save her, even when she’d been training her entire life for it.

Monica is not mentioned at all throughout the second musical. It’s as if she does not exist.

Because unlike Ema of Rise From The Ashes, Monica is not at the heart of this story. She is, primarily, a plot device here to make Leona not trust Phoenix so that he can angst about their relationship. 

What a mess this world is.

The Trial, Part 2

Rather than try to prove Leona’s innocence, Phoenix wants to link the current case to not-SL-9, the Jack Lyon case. He does this by showing this picture.

Senator Cole, the victim, is in this picture. His younger brother whose name I’ve forgotten, the victim of not-SL-9, is also in this picture. They are brothers. It is apparently novel that they are in the same picture, and somehow makes their cases linked.

As well, Governor Miller is in the picture. I guess you could say like... Governor Miller’s legal counsel is the defendant, so that’s another link? Even though the Governor would presumably know a Senator, so this isn’t an unusual group. Right now Phoenix has absolutely nothing to prove that these two cases are linked other than “hey, these two victims are brothers”, but apparently it works. So they spend a lot of time talking about not-SL-9, since Leona has confessed to the murder on day 1 and there is absolutely nothing indicating that she can’t be immediately declared guilty.

They hid the fact that Monica was a hostage in this not-SL-9, meaning that some of the case records were forged. Here’s Edgeworth’s reaction when this comes out.

Edgeworth: This is an outrage! I’m the most influential prosecutor in America! There’s nothing I don’t know!

In RFTA, when Edgeworth learns he’d been using forged evidence to give a man the death penalty, he is devastated, his entire worldview is shaken, he sees himself as a monster who could end up becoming horribly corrupt if he isn’t stopped.

Musical Edgeworth goes “I DIDN’T KNOW SOMETHING???”

It’s certainly strange characterization, but I guess Edgeworth is further behind in his character arc than in RFTA, so... ugh. Fine. 

Phoenix calls Monica out as a witness to prove she was involved in the case. This causes Leona to panic, and try to dismiss Phoenix as her attorney, like Lana in RFTA, but Edgeworth interjects to call Monica in anyways. He and Phoenix have a little moment.

Edgeworth: You said to believe in others. I suppose I’ll try believing in you. Try to keep up.

Phoenix: Edgeworth!

So Monica comes to the stand to testify. We get to see this picture of Monica being held hostage, and not-Joe-Darke’s incredible eyeliner.

Lots of it is very similar to the actual RFTA, except instead of the victim being stabbed on the knight with the giant knife, he’s instead stabbed with a regular old knife. Leona still refuses to admit to what really happened, until Edgeworth convinces her to believe in Phoenix.

Edgeworth: Your attorney is a runaway train with a one-track mind. Yet he placed all of his faith in you. Believe in him. You owe him that much.

Leona testifies, and says that when she found the victim, he was stabbed with a scalpel.

Here is where things get weird.

Scalpels Can’t Kill People

So basically earlier in this trial, they talk about how Leona knew that the knife that stabbed the victim was double-edged despite being buried in his chest. The judge questions if this means Leona killed him, but Phoenix is quick to say no, she was searched when she entered the courthouse and couldn’t have concealed a knife.

Yet, Monica was able to bring in her surgical toolkit which contains several sharp knives, scalpels, scissors, etc.

This is the first major contradiction.

Leona continues to say that when she found Monica, and the scalpel stabbed in the victim, she also ran into Governor Miller, who if you haven’t been able to tell yet is the Gant-equivalent of this musical. He offered to help her with the cover-up, etc.

The next bit goes a lot like RFTA. Phoenix accuses Governor Miller, who barges in, says Phoenix has the decisive evidence in his pocket. This is the “butter knife” that Phoenix took from his office when he dug around in confidential documents and stole it for no particular reason. It has Monica’s fingerprints on it! ... And Phoenix’s and Maya’s too probably because they were handling it without gloves, but they don’t mention that part.

Leona cries about how she shouldn’t have trusted Phoenix because he was apparently now blaming Monica, Monica looks terrified, she and Leona have some good sister moments but it’s not as good as it could be if the story was actually about Leona and Monica like how RFTA was about Lana and Ema. But Phoenix has the decisive piece of evidence that can turn this around.

It is this:

Phoenix: Scalpels are made for medical incisions, not stabbings. So how did it stab the victim?

...

...

...

... What?

So like. Yes, scalpels are made for medical incisions. Medical incisions often involve cutting through flesh, very easily. As a result, they are sharp. Extremely sharp. As in: their purpose is literally to stab people, very specifically.

Yes, they’re easier to control, so that surgeons don’t regularly stab people how they’re not supposed to be stabbed, but it’s not like, impossible to stab someone in a killing way with a scalpel? Admittedly, I have never tried to kill someone using a scalpel. And I do not have experience using a scalpel for surgeries because I am not a surgeon. But I’m pretty sure, if you take a sharp scalpel, and you stab someone in the chest with it with a reasonable amount of force... they die.

Like, is this a particular kind of scalpel that is not very sharp? Is the problem that the blade doesn’t match up with the initial wound? But even then, we don’t have the original unforged autopsy report or even a picture, so how would Phoenix know what the original wound looked like to say it didn’t match up? And even then why wouldn’t Phoenix say that instead of SCALPELS CAN’T STAB PEOPLE???

This is his decisive contradiction and it makes ABSOLUTELY NO SENSE TO ME!!!

Well Darn I Guess Scalpels Can’t Kill People

This is such a decisive piece of evidence, that scalpels can’t kill people, coming from the man who thought “caught red-handed” does not involve being caught standing over a corpse with blood on your hands, that it causes Governor Miller to confess.

Unlike Gant, who created the murder with Neil Marshall both to ensure that there was decisive evidence to convict Joe Darke, a serial killer who had not left any decisive evidence behind, and gain control over the prosecutor’s office in order to pull similar stunts to get criminals convicted using false evidence, Governor Miller does not have that as his motive. After all, he’s not a police officer. Instead, he ended up accidentally killing not-Joe-Darke, and then set up the incident in order to get Leona on his side. As her parents were both influential lawyers and very respectable, having her and her parents’ reputation on his side could help him become President of America Where This Takes Place.

So, let’s just take a moment to run over some of the things that made the original Rise From The Ashes great, in my opinion. Just for fun.

1 - The heart of the story between the Skye sisters. Lana closing off to protect Ema, Ema wanting to get through to her sister and get back to the way things used to be. Phoenix, in this story, is more of a bystander to this plotline rather than in the heart of it himself.

2 - Edgeworth’s Character Development. Basically RFTA creates an interesting transition between Turnabout Goodbyes and JFA. It causes Edgeworth to re-evaluate everything he knows about being a prosecutor. So quickly on the heels of Turnabout Goodbyes, it crushes the last bit of hope in him. It compares him to Gant, who also hates criminals, and forces him to wonder if his hatred of crime will one day lead to him being a criminal himself. He’s already convicted one person on forged evidence; how many others could there be?

3 - The Ends Justify The Means. ... wait come back, don’t leave. What I found neat about this case was also Gant’s motive. At one point he was presumably an honest person who hated crime and wanted to stop criminals. But over time in the police force, he became corrupted. He wanted to have all criminals convicted. So what do you do when you don’t have the evidence to convict them? Joe Darke was a serial killer who has killed several people and may have killed more if he’d gone free. The only way to stop and convict him was by using forged evidence. Other criminals could hide evidence to get away with their crimes, so people like Gant would make it up to catch them; but then when do you stop? What happens if there’s no evidence because someone is truly innocent? When does the line between “this person is a criminal and I want to stop them” and “I just want to convict everyone I’m dealing with” become blurred? This is also something he shares with Edgeworth and helps to advance his character.

All three of these things are either lessened or outright ignored in this musical. Leona and Monica’s story takes a backseat to Phoenix and Leona’s Love Story, with Monica only showing up halfway through, and mainly as an excuse as to why Leona is withdrawn. Edgeworth doesn’t seem to blame himself for the forged evidence he used, and doesn’t have a crisis questioning his morality over it. And Governor Miller’s motive is purely power. Unlike Gant, who would have become Chief of Police whether he solved SL-9 or not, Miller needed Leona to win the presidency. And instead of asking her to help him with his campaign like a normal person, he just blackmailed her instead.

... How do you play the games seven times and miss this much?

The Case Finally Ends

god. we’re almost there.

The case ends, Leona is declared not guilty but will still face trial for covering up murders and such. Probably less of a sentence than Lana because she was not involved in ongoing police corruption? Either way she’s dead in three years, so she’s got something a bit more concerning coming up.

She’s led away. Phoenix sings a bit about Leona before being interrupted by Edgeworth... who has something important to tell him.

Edgeworth: You awakened within me those once-cherished emotions I had discarded. I see visions of a distant, nostalgic past.

So basically this is the unnecessary feelings of the musical. Something along the lines of “seeing you again and fighting for my former ideals is making me question many things about myself.”

How does Phoenix respond?

Phoenix: Edgeworth... Try talking normally for a chance.

Sure, we were all thinking it, but that’s a little cold, Phoenix.

Edgeworth tries a smooth recovery.

Edgeworth: I don’t do... idle chit-chat.

This doesn’t accomplish much. So he leaves to allow Leona to visit with Phoenix alone. He’s got to go change for something more important coming up.

Leona and Phoenix decide that they’re going to get back together once Leona is done her sentence! They make a promise that is very funny if you know she’ll be dead in three years.

Phoenix: I’ll be waiting. For you.

There are a lot of hugs here, I’m not screencapping them all. There are also several moments where their faces get very close together and like, their nose brushes the other’s cheek or something, but they never actually kiss. Is it because the actresses weren’t comfortable with it (valid), or they thought kissing would be too much for the musical (sure, whatever), or since both characters are played by women the show staff did not want two women kissing on stage (probably the real answer)? I don’t like watching kisses, but I kept bracing myself for one and then it never happened, so.

Phoenix ends the main part of the musical with one last musical number starring my personal favourite piece:

Phoenix: I want to bring you back! I believe in you.

I like to think that at this point, this is present-day Phoenix, after finishing his reminiscing, still desperately wishing he could bring Leona back from death.

But alas, he cannot. And so, after one last daydream of them dancing together on the beaches of California, singing about their love, the musical ends.

Dance Time!

This starts at exactly the two hour mark, if you’re interested in watching what is, once again, one of the only fun parts of this musical.

Seriously, Edgeworth’s actress kills it here, when I first saw this I went “oh, this is why I saw so many people being gay for her on twitter.”

Edgeworth’s song is an encore of “My Rule”, so it’s lots of fun. Afterwards Phoenix gets another fun piece.

Then we get to the love ballad part, which I can probably overanalyze, I feel like I haven’t done enough ridiculous over-analyzing in this essay in comparison to the other.

Uhhh so the fog represents how Phoenix feels lost in this world without Leona. You can see it in the second screenshot separating the two of them, representing the barrier of death between the two of them. Idk it’s midnight I’m getting worn out from having to think about this musical for so long.

But his mourning over Leona’s death becomes even more apparent in the credits, where Phoenix sings that one line again:

Phoenix: I want to bring you back! I believe in you.

I’m not fixing that screenshot, I think it’s oddly fitting, in a way. That’s me right now.

Then at the very end, he sings this song.

Phoenix: I’ll spend... this eternal life... soaring through... the heavens!

Technically, this refers to his name Phoenix, but let’s dig a little deeper. He spends the rest of his life soaring through the heavens... the heavens that Leona went to after her untimely death, perhaps?

Overall, the musical becomes much more interesting when you just see it as a prequel to the second musical. This musical establishes many core concepts of Phoenix’s character: his refusal to believe in the concept of things changing, for one, and also his extreme dependency on Leona who he was never separated from since they were kids and where he based his entire life around her dreams and ideals. All he can think about is her. And in the end, he promises to wait for her in California.

Yet, to paraphrase Miles Edgeworth, all that is waiting for him is her death. Their dream of opening up a Mom & Pop Law Firm will never come true.

Thanks again for bearing with me even though this wasn’t as funny!

[alwaysmychoices]

Is This Goodbye?

 Synopsis: Charlie and Ethan are running out of time, and if they don’t hurry, this toxin will take everything from them. But with so little time left, is it more important to keep barriers or to finally say how they feel?

this is the final part of the chapter 11 rewrite but is not the end of the series.

Chapter 17 of the “with and without” series

Previous Series: “a weekend with dr. ramsey”

Pairing: Dr. Ethan Ramsey x MC (Charlotte “Charlie” Greene)

Words: 7.2k

Rating: T (language)

The second Charlie saw Ethan approach her hospital room, she knew he had bad news.

She had seen him give bad news hundreds of times. Every time, he had the same expression, though the degree varied. He walked with determination, yet there was a silent reluctance in each step, like he would be happy to walk just a touch slower. The skin between his eyebrows crinkled together, and his lips formed a hard line. And his eyes…

They were particularly sad today.

In the short time before Ethan reached the glass, Charlie panicked.

She imagined a million scenarios, each worse than the last. She grieved each of them for her friends, her family, and herself. Even Ethan, too.

But once he reached her, she was relieved to see him. Happy, even. Especially because this could be the last time that she would face him like this, before this toxin had taken everything from her.

She paid a great deal of attention to him. He didn’t look like the same man who had kissed her goodbye this morning, and it was so hard to reconcile the two conflicting versions of Ethan. The one from last night had this radiance about him – like, for the first time in a very long time, the world was beautiful and full of possibilities. That man was happy. He made an extra cup of coffee in the morning and sacrificed his morning rituals just to stay in bed with her a little longer.

This man…

He wasn’t happy.

He was devastated.

His life had shattered. His world was chaos. And faced with the most important case of his career, he was failing.

And he was failing the woman he loved…

Looking at him, it was hard to imagine that the Ethan from this morning could ever come back. He was this now – and maybe even forever.

Ethan didn’t know how to begin. He imagined that there were eloquent, efficient words that could professionally and carefully inform her of the team’s new breakthrough. If he had an eternity, he wouldn’t have found them, though. The truth was that he didn’t want to begin. He didn’t want to tell her. He didn’t want it to be true.

Charlie took a moment to weakly approach the glass, and when he remained silent, she offered a kind of sympathetic smile.

“Would it help if I guessed the bad news?” Charlie offered.

“Who said it was bad news?” Ethan asked reflexively.

He didn’t like the knowing smile she offered or how effortlessly she had read him.

He didn’t like that he wouldn’t be able to keep secrets from her in the coming hours. She deserved the luxury of compassionate lies and well-meaning falsehoods. She deserved to be spared, if just from the psychological toll.

“We’ve discovered the type of toxin,” Ethan finally elaborated, watching her intently. He told himself he was looking for new symptoms, but he wasn’t. He was studying her reaction and hoping that she could take it.

Ethan didn’t know Charlie’s limits like he knew his own, not really. She toed the line last year with the combined trauma of Mrs. Martinez, the ethics hearing, Naveen’s illness, and Landry’s betrayal. She got herself off that ledge somehow, though a few cracks remained. But this? Could she take this?

But truthfully, as her doctor, it didn’t matter if she could take it. She would have to.

“You have?” Charlie asked apprehensively. She was looking for the trick, for the subtle clue that would put everything together. Because, at first blush, this was good news, wasn’t it? They were one step closer to treatment if they identified the toxin. They might even have time to save Raf.

What was she missing?

How could this discovery earn Ethan’s somber expression?

Ethan took a deep breath and gave her one last moment of innocent hopefulness before he told her.

“It’s a maitotoxin,” Ethan explained, “One I’ve never seen before. And it’s still present and active on Danny’s body postmortem, including the surface of his skin, which means it’s still dangerous.”

It took Charlie about fifteen seconds to understand why Ethan had hesitated for so long.

There was no cure.

Charlie felt like the wind was knocked out of her, and she stumbled back, almost as if she were fighting this new information. She knew it was true. She had no doubts, yet… she couldn’t accept it.

So, she had to say it.

She had to announce it to herself and to the world. She had to make it real.

“I’m going to die,” she said it softly, so softly that Ethan almost didn’t hear through the glass.

But he did. She kind of wished he hadn’t.

Charlie belatedly realized that Ethan was talking.

No, he was talking to her.

He was saying something about how this wasn’t the time to give up because they were actively working on an antidote, but his words were so distant—nearly white noise.

All she could think was that she was going to die.

She would never keep her promise to Raf. She would never make it out of this room. She would never tell Kyra all the scandalous and sordid details of her private life. She would never sit on Ethan’s kitchen barstool and watch him make coffee in the morning. She wouldn’t even find out if they messed this up again or if, magically, it all fell into place.

All of her dreams and plans meant nothing now.

They would just be the private thoughts of a dead girl.

She could have wallowed in that for the rest of her life – it’s not like she had a lot of time left, anyway.

But she didn’t. She couldn’t.

And once she escaped those horrible thoughts, something worse occurred to her.

Charlie knew that Ethan Ramsey would never forgive himself for this. When she died, she would live on through his self-torment. He would twist and turn her memory until it became his personal hell. He would convince himself that he deserved it, and armed with his stubbornness and a conviction of his inherent badness, nothing could stop him.

She couldn’t fathom the thought.

Yet it felt so real, so decided, that she couldn’t stop thinking it.

It was there. It was true. It was practically inevitable.

And she felt some sense of responsibility in all of it. Like maybe it was her fault. Like she had sealed his fate with her own impulsive need to save others. Like she had betrayed him without even knowing it.

She couldn’t look at him when he was like this, eyes so wide and sad as he pled for her to maintain hope and ignore her own mortality. And she certainly couldn’t listen to him.

His voice didn’t even sound the same. It was too desperate for her agreement. Too grave. Too anxious. He needed her to live the same lie. It grated on her ears.

“Stop talking,” Charlie demanded breathlessly. She sounded like she had run a marathon just to command him. In her mind, she had raced miles and miles just to hold on to the world. But for Ethan, who watched her sway slightly with dizziness, her breathlessness was just another reminder of the horrible truth he couldn’t yet acknowledge.  

He didn’t dare speak. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t think of anything to say.

There was a pause.

Charlie realized she didn’t actually want to talk.

She didn’t want to do any of this.

She wanted to crawl back into bed. She wanted to fall asleep. She wanted to wake up tomorrow morning.

“Ethan,” Charlie began, her voice shaking. She silently started to count, promising that she would say it again once she reached three. She didn’t actually do it until she got to five, “I’m going to die.”

“Charlotte, don’t say that,” Ethan’s response was quick and desperate, so much so that the words blended together a little bit.

Charlie’s vision was hazy from the tears building in her eyes. Even then, she could see how intensely he needed her to pretend none of this was happening. She hated herself for not letting him have that.

She hated herself for being sick, for dying, for walking in this goddamn room and ruining everything. She hated herself for needing more, for loving him so much that she had to hurt him. She hated this illness. She hated Travis. She hated Senator Farrugia. She hated Raf for taking the brunt of the toxin and for leaving her here alone.

She hated everyone but Ethan.

But she really hated what she said next.

“I have to say it,” Charlie asserted, “Because it’s true.”

“Charlie, you can’t give up,” Ethan’s voice cracked, and he moved as close as he could through the glass. He was looking at her intently, searching for something familiar to latch on to in her green eyes. All he found was resolute determination.

It crushed him.

“I’m not giving up, Ethan,” Charlie told him. What little control she had over her body seemed to disappear. She was shaking. Breathing was harder. Tears prickled at her eyes. Everything hurt. “But we have to face this. You have to face this.”

“Am I not facing this?” Ethan retorted incredulously, looking like he had been insulted, “Am I not here, Charlie?”

Charlie shook her head vigorously, “No, you’re not facing this. You still think I will walk out of here unscathed, Ethan, and I won’t. Not even I can work my way out of this. I know that. I need you to know it, too.”

“Why?” Ethan snapped, “Why do you need that?”

Ethan seethed.

How could she ask this of him?

How could she give up when he needed her? When he was doing everything he could, how could she not just hold on? Why did she need him to face the one thing that would break him?

“Because I care about you, Ethan, and I need to know you’ll be okay.”

Ethan scoffed.

“I promised Naveen I would be there for you if he died,” Charlie explained forcefully. The way she spoke demanded his attention, and he begrudgingly gave it. “I need that same assurance, Ethan. I need to know that, when I’m gone, you will be okay. That you’re not going to waste years blaming and hating yourself for something that was never even your fault. I got myself in this mess. Blame me,” Charlie’s voice had changed subtly as she spoke, but it was clear now.

She was just as desperate as he was.

He felt it in her stare. He heard it in her voice. It surrounded her.

And it killed him.

When Ethan didn’t speak, she begged, “Please. I won’t let you use my memory to torture yourself.”

Ethan still didn’t say anything.

He didn’t need to. The look on his face told her that he could never agree.

It hit Charlie like a blow, and she stumbled back just a bit. She looked betrayed, even disappointed in him. Ethan felt the urge to avert his eyes in guilt.

“Do you promise?” Charlie was very close to a new emotion – one that she couldn’t quite put her finger on. She heard it in her tone, though. It wasn’t quite angry, not fully disappointed. But it was certainly commanding.

Ethan had to answer her. He knew he did.

But he didn’t.

He was so mad that she forced him to sit in this, that she broke down his carefully constructed barriers. He couldn’t save her if he felt the full weight of what was happening. His grief, his adoration, his fury – it would bury him.

He told himself that he was doing what was best for her.

But there was a small voice in the back of his head that said he was just running away.

“I can’t do this, Greene. I can’t have this conversation,” Ethan announced, evading eye contact. He was too ashamed to look at her, “I’ve been here too long. I need to get back to the team.”

Then he left – so abruptly and dramatically that Charlie couldn’t even get a word before he was too far away to hear her.

Charlie watched him in disbelief.

He… left?

She was dying, and he fucking left?

Charlie didn’t know what she was feeling, but it was something close to anger, fear, and sadness.

She couldn’t believe he would allow his stubbornness to deprive them of what little time they had together. It was one thing for her to not let him hide from the truth, but was it the same for him to run away? Could he do that?

Was there a right way to do any of this?

If there was, Charlie was convinced he certainly hadn’t done it.

She fumed. How could he leave when they were already running out of time?

Quietly, she remembered the spring when she sneaked out of his apartment in the early hours just to avoid saying goodbye. Was he doing the same thing?

Charlie thought of the note she wrote the night she left. She had written, “I love you,” and then crumbled the note up and taken it with her instead of letting him read it.

Once again, when this could be goodbye, she hadn’t told him.

She might never.

Charlie paced as she tried to clear her mind. She stumbled every other step, feeling increasingly dizzy, but she kept trying. If she kept moving, she wouldn’t have to face the silence again.

She had to keep going because, if she didn’t, she would hear Danny’s final, ragged breaths. She would see Raf’s exhausted, pale face as he mumbled his last words. She would hear her own screams…

And now, she would also see Ethan storming away from her in her final hours.

It was too much.

Charlie felt lucky when she heard someone approach the glass. It meant she would have a distraction.

But when she realized that the noisy steps came from her all her best friends coming to check on her, her feeling of good luck wavered.

They all looked so…

Sad. Aware of the threat. And politely trying not to talk about it.

Sienna’s face was red with tears, and something stabbed at Charlie’s heart as she realized that her friend had lost the man she adored and would likely lose even more friends by the end of the night.

Sometimes, it was easy to forget that Charlie wasn’t suffering in isolation. Everyone she loved was also suffering, and there was nothing she could do to stop it.

“I saw Dr. Ramsey storming down the hall. Is everything okay?” Bryce asked as soon as he was in Charlie’s earshot, obviously apprehensive and drained from the traumatic afternoon. Charlie had never seen him not smile when he approached. It broke her heart that he only frowned.

No, Charlie thought, Ethan can’t handle his girlfriend’s mortality, so he’s acting like a dick.

But she didn’t say it. She didn’t want her last memories with her friends to be tainted with calling Ethan a dick or complaining about how ridiculous he was.

Instead, Charlie shrugged, “I don’t know, but they’re making progress. They’ve figured out the toxin, so that’s good news.”

“Really? That’s amazing! What is it?” Sienna’s face perked up with hope for the first time since the whole ordeal began.

Charlie hesitated and reluctantly admitted, “Maitotoxin.”

“Oh,” Sienna exclaimed with surprise, and it only took a moment for her face to fall with recognition, “Oh…”

An awkward silence fell between the friends, and Charlie’s eyes fell to the floor. She didn’t like the way they looked at her now, like they were memorizing her so they could remember once she was gone. Elijah’s face was soft with sympathy, a stark contrast to Jackie’s distraught and angry frown. Bryce was trying so hard to be positive that it seemed to break him.

And Sienna…

Charlie knew that, if she looked at Sienna right now, she wouldn’t be able to stop from crying, so she selfishly looked away.

But she couldn’t maintain it. She had to look. She had to connect.

She had to let them know how much she loved and appreciated them, even if they weren’t ready to acknowledge these as their final hours.

“I love you guys,” Charlie sniffed, wiping at her eyes before anyone could see her cry, “I’m so happy I met all of you.”

“We love you, too,” Elijah’s voice hitched, and Bryce put a sympathetic hand on his shoulder.

“It’s really good that they’ve identified the toxin, Charlie,” Jackie spoke up, nodding firmly, “We’re one step closer.”

“Yeah,” Charlie agreed weakly, “One step closer.”

“You’re going to be okay,” Bryce added, trying to keep everyone optimistic, but not even his bravado couldn’t save the day.

Charlie nodded, “You’re right.”

Everyone tried to stay positive, including Charlie, and she hid her growing tears with awkward sniffles and wiping her eyes. They pretended not to notice and ignored the increasing pain in their hearts.

“How’s Kyra?” Charlie asked.

“She’s good… She made it out of surgery, and she’s recovering,” Bryce clumsily added, “We haven’t… we haven’t told her about this yet. We didn’t want to stress her, but…”

He trailed off before he could say that they would bring her to say goodbye if it became obvious that Charlie wouldn’t survive the hour.

It stung. It was just another reminder that she was actually going to die.

Charlie nodded her approval and expressed relief that Kyra was okay, and she didn’t make Bryce explain. She didn’t need him to tell her. His obvious discomfort and nervousness expressed everything she needed to know. As long as she could say goodbye to Kyra before the end, she was happy to let her stay blissfully ignorant.

She wished she could give all her friends that gift.

As they continued to talk, Charlie found the effort to stay strong for them exhausting. A dark, quiet thought whispered that at least her impending doom meant she could rest after taking blow after blow.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see the diagnostics team coming down the hall, and she released a tiny sigh of acceptance.

She knew they didn’t have good news. There was no good news to be had. Whatever it was would be traumatic at worst and depressing at best.

Charlie was so tired.

She longed for her bed so much that she was fine with the fact that she would likely never get out of it. She was ready to let go. She was ready to give in, if everyone would just stand back and let her.

But they wouldn’t.

Charlie’s friends moved to allow June, Baz, and Ethan to face Charlie through the glass. Ethan was staring at her with eyes that begged her to look at him. She didn’t. She was too close to crying already. Instead, she looked at June.

“How are you doing, Charlie?” June asked, and once again, Charlie was comforted by her no-nonsense approach. It was nice to not be causing someone pain for once today.

“Okay,” Charlie shrugged, “No significant changes.”

June nodded considerately, “You know it’s Maitotoxin?”

“Yes.”

“And you know what that means?”

“Yes.”

June looked away just for a second – a second to brace herself. When she looked back, she was stern again.

“I brought some files if you would like to look through it.”

“I don’t want to,” Charlie rejected the offer, “But thank you.”

June nodded understandingly and handed the folder to Baz, who wiped a tear from underneath his glasses, “We’re working on it, Charlie.”

“I know, and thank you,” Charlie acknowledged.

She couldn’t help herself.

She had to look at Ethan.

Her muscles burned with the effort of looking away. She couldn’t fight it. She had to see him.

And she did.

And it…

It broke her and healed her at the same time.

Her Ethan.

She could see him now – the Ethan she loved, not just Dr. Ramsey. He was so sad… So devastated. And so eager for her to glance in his direction.

She loved him. She loved him so much.

In that moment, he felt like the only thing worth looking at. Her heart swelled so much that it felt like it might just burst. She couldn’t imagine staring at anything else.

“This isn’t the time to give up, Charlotte,” Ethan asserted, but it was a plea, really.

He hoped his voice still mattered to her. He hoped he still mattered to her after how he treated her.

“But,” Charlie spoke softly to the group, though she only looked at Ethan, “There isn’t an antidote.”

“Yet,” Ethan emphasized, “We’re going to work around the clock to synthesize one.”

“And you won’t be alone.”

Everyone’s head jerked in the direction of the familiar voice.

For a moment, Charlie wondered if she should add delusions to her growing list of symptoms. She looked at her friends’ expressions for confirmation that they saw it, too, and to her surprise, they did.  

But… how?

Aurora approached quickly, flanked with a team of doctors on either side. Just a step ahead of her was Tobias, and it was only then that Charlie recognized that he was the one who spoke.

And just like that, everything was different. Hope rushed down the empty corridor to the sound of a dozen footsteps.

Everyone gaped as the doctors approached. Everyone from Edenbrook was too shocked to say a word, so it was Aurora who spoke next.

“The best doctors and resources Mass Kenmore can offer at your disposal,” Aurora affirmed, and the doctors behind her nodded their agreement.

Charlie was stunned to silence.

“Tobias?” Ethan’s lips were parted in a silent gasp. He couldn’t believe it, and right then, he decided he didn’t care about anything in their past anymore.

Tobias was here now, and if he could save Charlie, Ethan would forgive and forget anything.

The only thing that mattered was Charlie.

“This is bigger than any rivalry. Greene’s not dying on our watch,” Tobias looked at Ethan like he understood.

Normally, this would have terrified Ethan. He would have wondered how Tobias knew about their relationship and if he would dare use it against the two of them in the name of their ongoing competition.  He would have feared for Charlie’s career. And he would have hated Tobias for pointing it out.

But Ethan felt none of that.

Instead, he said, “Thank you, Tobias.”

This startled Tobias, but after a beat, he accepted the thanks.

“Yes… Thank you. Both of you,” Charlie echoed, looking between Aurora and Tobias with shocked gratitude, “Aurora… I don’t even know how to express… I …” Charlie stumbled through her words, struggling to express her love for her friend and her gratitude and her relief to even know her.

“Then don’t,” Aurora cut her off, “Thank me by hanging in there, okay?”

Charlie nodded weakly, “I’ll try.”

“We've set up basecamp in the laboratory. We can take you there now,” June offered.

“Anyone else who wants to join us is welcome,” Baz added.

“Count us in. Chemistry was always my strongest subject in college,” Elijah said, earning a nod of approval from Baz.

Sienna pushed her way to the glass, her teary eyes fierce and piercing as they found Charlie, “Don’t you dare die. No comas, either. Just… hold the line, you hear me?” Sienna demanded.

“I hear you,” Charlie confirmed as strongly as she could.

Aurora pulled Sienna from the window and gently lead her away. The others said their goodbyes and hurried after June and Baz to the lab.

Only Ethan stayed behind.

Charlie stared at him in surprise.

“What are you doing?”

“I realized you might need me here more than you need me with them,” Ethan confessed, taking another step towards the glass – towards Charlie.

He didn’t quite know where to start. He was ashamed of his behavior – of his rude cowardice. He was haunted by that last look she’d given before he left, like she knew he would let her down.

And he didn’t want to be that man.

He wasn’t that man.

He might not be able to save her, but that wasn’t what she needed from him. He knew that now.

“I’m so sorry, Charlie,” Ethan said it all at once, like a deep sigh he needed to release. And he did. He had to apologize. He needed her to not hate him.

“For what?” Charlie asked apprehensively. She realized that she was holding her breath as she waited. She wanted to forgive him so very, very badly that she was terrified he wouldn’t say the right words, that this would somehow be ruined.

But really, even if he had made every wrong move, she wasn’t prepared to let him ruin it. She would have forgiven him no matter what he said.

“For everything,” Ethan swallowed heavily, casting his eyes low with humiliation, “For storming off. For not listening to you. for hiding when I should have stood with you.”

He twisted his face, trying to hold back the floodgates of emotion as he added, “You’re asking for something that’s very hard to give, Charlotte.”

Charlie was crying.

She didn’t bother wiping away the tears as she sadly smiled, “I know.”

“But you deserve to ask,” Ethan made himself look at her, even though he wasn’t sure if he even deserved to, “Because you’re right, Charlie. You’re always right.”

Charlie laughed softly. That was the kind of thing she always wanted to hear. If he had told her any other time, she would have stored those words and brought them up time and time again. She wouldn’t get to now, though.

“I forgive you, Ethan,” Charlie quickly corrected, “Actually, no. I don’t. Because I don’t need to. I don’t care. You were a dick, but I… I don’t blame you. I’m just happy you’re here now.”

Ethan shook his head, knowing he didn’t deserve anything she said, “You’re too easy on me.”

“No,” Charlie tentatively held her hand to the glass, “I’m not.”

She offered a small, playful smile – the kind that always filled him with happiness, even now. She whispered, “I knew you were an asshole when I picked you, Ethan.”

He didn’t deserve Charlie.

But he placed his hand on the glass and smiled anyway.

He was supposed to leave now. They both knew it.

But he stood still.

He was devastated to look at her like this, alone and scared. He could see the exhaustion etched in her face, and he knew she hadn’t slept. He doubted she had sat for more than hour all together today. She was so stubborn… And so isolated…

“Can I stay?” Ethan asked impulsively.

Charlie jerked in surprise, instinctively taking a small step back. He missed her proximity immediately.

“Won’t the team miss you?” Charlie asked.

“I don’t care. I want to be here with you.”

Charlie hadn’t thought that there were right words to say. She thought that this situation was too shocking, too dramatic to have anything “right” about it. But she felt differently now. Because those were the right words to say.

She didn’t speak immediately. She didn’t know how to. She was too overcome with emotions she didn’t even recognize. It was harder to breathe. She felt like something was breaking inside of her – some resolve, some barrier. It flooded her until her limbs felt heavy and her mind exhausted.

She was falling apart. She felt it. Ethan saw it.

“Please,” Charlie begged him to come inside.

Ethan nodded emphatically, and he assured her it would be just one minute. As he rushed into his hazmat suit, he was tempted to be reckless with the remaining procedures. Time with Charlie was precious, and one minute felt like too long to wait.

It took about 65 seconds for Ethan to safely enter the hospital room.

Ethan only took one of the following seconds to complain about how slow he moved and how much faster he needed to go to get to her, but he was quickly distracted from those criticisms.

Because Charlie was there.

After hours of staying apart to maintain boundaries and leaving her to struggle on her own, Ethan could finally hold her.

Ethan wordlessly enveloped Charlie in his arms, and she fell deeply into his embrace until he was the only thing keeping her up. She shed the pretense of strength and stability. When Raf crashed and abandoned her in this room, she almost wallowed in the full effect of the night – the pain, the sorrow, the fear. But there was still a part of her that pushed Ethan away for his own good, sacrificing what she wanted for the greater effort. Now, even that was gone.

Charlie succumbed to the darkness.

And really, it was kind of a relief.

She sobbed into his chest, and Ethan held her as tight as he possibly could without breaking her. He wished he could give her all of his remaining strength. She needed it more than he did.

“It’s okay,” Ethan whispered, tracing a soothing pattern on her back, “I’m here.”

“I missed you so much,” Charlie managed breathlessly.

He squeezed her, but he wasn’t sure if he did it to reassure her or to prove to himself that she was really there.

Once her sobs grew softer, Ethan pulled away enough to wipe the tears off her red-stained cheeks. He hated the hazmat suit for keeping them apart. He wanted to feel her skin, her warmth.

“I wish you could touch me,” Charlie told him, a spare tear rolling down her cheek. He caught it with his thumb.

“So, do I,” Ethan affirmed with a sad smile.

She swayed softly in his arms. Her dizziness, coupled with her exhaustion, made it hard to stand. Her eyelids were heavy, and her eyes were bloodshot from hours of tears and not a minute of sleep. She demanded a lot from her body, and it was determined to get its revenge on her.

Though he knew she hadn’t, he asked, “Have you slept at all?”

Charlie shook her head, “I tried, but um…” Charlie had to stop and hold her breath for a minute, too choked up to continue. For anyone else, she would have left it at that, but for Ethan, she bore the pain and explained, “I tried after Raf crashed… And I… I was too afraid I wouldn’t wake up again, and I wasn’t ready.”

Oh.

Ethan swallowed heavily and nodded thoughtfully. He didn’t dare speak. He knew he would break if he did.

His beautiful, wonderful Charlie didn’t deserve this…

“How is Raf?” Charlie asked apprehensively. She doubted she would like his answer.

“He’s holding on,” Ethan told her, “He’s in a coma.”

Charlie knew that was the best she could ask for, so she accepted it quietly.

“Are you tired, Charlie?”

Charlie let out a deep breath as she admitted, “So, so tired.”

Not just physically, either. She was drained completely – emotionally and mentally. The only thing that kept her going was her determination, and even that wore thin.

“Come on, let’s get you to bed,” Ethan suggested softly. When she hesitated, he added, “I’ll be here to make sure you wake up.”

Charlie knew he couldn’t really make a promise like that, but she believed it anyway. She needed it.

Charlie accepted his hand and allowed him to lead her to the bed. As she sank into the mattress, he carefully followed. His arms encircled her, and her head fell comfortably and familiarly to his shoulder.

If they pretended, it almost looked like a normal night in his apartment.

“I think your bed might be just a bit more comfortable,” Charlie whispered playfully, earning his chuckle.

She liked to watch him laugh, even through the bulky hazmat helmet. In fact, she liked almost everything about him.

“Can I tell you something I regret?” Charlie asked, much to Ethan’s surprise.

“Do you want to?”

“Yes.”

“Then, yes, you can,” Ethan affirmed, hiding his own anxiety.

Everything about this night felt final, like the last chapter of his favorite book. Every time they had a “last” anything, Ethan felt closer to the edge.

“If I could go back, I would pick you all the times I almost did.”

“I wouldn’t deserve it.”

“I don’t care,” Charlie shrugged. She was smiling, but it didn’t reach her sad eyes, “You don’t have to deserve me, Ethan. I wasted so much time thinking that, if I couldn’t have you, I had to stay away until I moved on. And I never moved on, not even for a minute.”

“You shouldn’t have had to,” Ethan felt like a fool for all his stubborn, ‘ethical’ arguments. He’d just been hiding, and because of it, they were deprived of so much. “I wish I could take it back, Charlie. I would take a million more months with you.”

This time, when Charlie smiled, he knew it was real.

And she knew she had to tell him. Anxiety built in her chest, and for a terrifying moment, she wondered if she as alone in loving him, if she had always been the foolish, love-struck girl. If he still didn’t need her like she needed him.

“Can I tell you another regret?”

Ethan nodded his consent.

“I should have… I should have told you I loved you the second I felt it.”

The world stopped. Time wasn’t counting down.

Now, it was Ethan’s turn to stop breathing.

“When was that?”

“The spring, the night I left you before you could leave me. I wrote it on a note that I was going to leave for you, but I took it with me instead. I thought it help me move on if I never told you,” Charlie admitted.

She was very aware that Ethan hadn’t said it back yet, and she watched his lips intently, waiting for three words to fall out of them.

But Ethan was distracted.

Because, if he had known, everything would have been different. If she had left that note, he wouldn’t have been able to stay away. He ran away and hid from her for his own safety, to keep him away from her. If he had known that she was suffering, too, he would have stayed.

He could have been happy with her all this time.

All it would have taken was for one of them to say that they loved each other.

“I knew then, too…” Ethan still seemed lost in his own head as he spoke, “I spent every night in the Amazon wondering if I would ever stop.”

“Did you?” Charlie was so afraid of his answer she almost hoped he wouldn’t say anything. That way, she ran no risk of being crushed.

“Never.”

He loves me.

Charlie shouldn’t have been shocked, but she was.

And she was so… so…

So in love with him. So overwhelmed.

Charlie began to cry, hiding her face in Ethan’s shoulder as she mourned. She cried because of how much she loved him. She cried because they had all this time and never told each other. She cried because she wouldn’t get to love him for decades. She cried because this was still the end.

Ethan held her tight and fought off his own ragged, dangerous breath. He didn’t know how to breathe anymore. He was so sad but so happy. So distraught and so relieved.

He should have told her before. In his apartment, on the balcony with a bottle of wine. When she was smiling at him. When her eyes reflected the glimmering cityscape and stars. When she was happy and safe.

“You know,” Ethan murmured, “My dad says I would be an idiot to ruin this because you’re the best thing to ever happen to me,” Ethan wasn’t quite sure why he told her this story, but he just knew he wanted to make her smile, “I told him that I already had once, and he said I was an idiot.”

Charlie laughed softly through her tears. She could imagine it, and she didn’t disagree with Alan.

“My mom found a picture of you on the internet after I moved here. She warned me not to get too close to you because you were too handsome and smart for your own good,” Charlotte murmured. He could hear the exhaustion in her voice, but he was relieved to have the distraction.

“You know, it was pretty strange you claimed to be such a ‘fan’ but had no idea what I looked like,” Ethan teased.

“I was a fan of your research. Was I supposed to keep a poster of your face on my wall?”

“I’m just saying that my picture was in the back of the book.”

“I was too busy reading it to check you out, Ethan.”

Charlie rolled her eyes, and Ethan smiled.

They didn’t say a lot after that, just a few murmured words and the occasional joke. Despite her best efforts to stay awake and enjoy her time with Ethan, Charlie fell asleep. She finally felt safe enough to sleep.

Even after he realized Charlie was asleep, Ethan held her. He wasn’t ready to let go.

He wanted to hold her through the night and keep her safe. He wanted to keep his promise and make sure she woke up in the morning.

But he needed to get back to the team and fight for her while they still had time left.

Ethan reluctantly untangled himself from Charlie, and before he left, he whispered gently that he loved her.

Ethan followed the decontamination procedures methodically. It gave him something else to think about, somewhere for his mind to hide. Once he was done, he slid back into his white coat and started walking down the hall to the lab.

But he didn’t make it there.

Every step, his feet felt like lead. His heart raced. His eyes watered. His breath was irregular.

He had to stop. He had to… crash.

He fell to the linoleum floor with a thud that echoed down the empty hall. He leaned his head back to the wall and begged his body to stop, to just let him focus. He searched for those barriers that kept him safe, but they were gone now.

He loved Charlie.

And she was going to die.

Ethan succumbed to the weight of it all as he sobbed into his hands. It took everything from him, so when the tears stopped flowing, he felt hollow and empty. He was alone. And he missed her.

As soon as he could fathom it, Ethan stood. He walked into the bathroom and splashed his tear-stained face with water. His reflection was so unfamiliar – so distraught and devoid of life – that he avoided looking at it at first. He forced himself to level his gaze with his reflection, and he commanded that he get his shit together and be a good doctor. It didn’t matter if he was sad. All that mattered was that Charlotte survived. He would give anything for her.

Using that as fuel, Ethan marched into the lab.

Everyone was surprised to see him, and they hardly kept it to himself. Even June gaped in alarm. No one expected him to leave Charlie’s side, and they worried what it meant that he had.

“How is Charlie?” Baz asked immediately.

“She’s resting. Heart rate still normal. No obvious deterioration,” Ethan ignored their astonished stares and walked to the half-empty pot of coffee in the corner of the make-shift lab. He poured himself a cup and winced at the taste, “Who made this?”

“I did,” Tobias confirmed.

“Makes sense,” Ethan muttered. If Tobias caught it, he let it slide.

He forced the rest of the cup down, reasoning that he needed the caffeine more than his taste buds needed satisfaction.

As soon as he finished his coffee, Ethan asked for an update and where he could help. Tobias told him about their progress and invited Ethan to work with him. Ethan obliged and fell into the project quickly.

The team benefited from his presence, even if they couldn’t believe he was there.

As they worked, Tobias finally said, “So, the resident, huh?”

Ethan shot him a warning look, “Shut up.”

“I’m not judging.”

“You are, and I don’t care. After we finish this antidote, you have all the time in the world to judge me. Save it for then.”

Tobias raised his hands in surrender and got back to work.

---

Charlie woke the next morning to a sharp, stabbing pain ripping through her stomach. She yelped in pain and instinctively doubled over, silently begging her body to just release whatever the fuck this was. She reached for Ethan beside her but found the bed empty.

As another wave of pain hit her, Charlie longed for Ethan’s reassuring presence but was quietly relieved that he didn’t have to see her bitter end. And anyway, he kept his promise. She woke up this morning.

“Charlotte!”

She recognized Ethan’s voice, but her vision was too blurry to recognize him on the other side of the glass. He was just an outline, but he was the tallest outline out of the group. So, Charlie reasoned it had to be him rushing through the decontamination tent to get to her. A handful of people followed.

Charlie dug her nails into her arm to distract from the pain, but she only ended up drawing blood.

Once it was finally over, she fell back into the bed feebly.

Ethan anxiously approached and demanded, “Are you okay?”

Charlie faintly nodded her head in response, and Ethan released a sigh of relief.

“What’s going on?” Charlie murmured, struggling to keep her eyes open. She needed sleep. She needed relief.

“We did it, Charlie!” Charlie recognized the voice before she recognized Aurora’s form in the glass.

“What?” Charlie’s mouth felt dry, and the word came out cracked.

“We have an antidote, Charlie,” Ethan explained. While she tried to identify Aurora out of the crowd, he had made it to her bedside and was sitting in the chair beside her, holding out his hand for hers.

Charlie didn’t understand.

She had to be imagining this.

But people were talking. They explained the miracle of the formulation and how the antidote worked. She only picked up every other word, but she got the gist of it.

It was real.

They did it.

“Did you give it to Raf?” Charlie breathed as soon as it all clicked together, cutting off someone else. She looked to Ethan like he was the only one she trusted.

“We did,” Sienna confirmed, “We haven’t seen any change. It may have been too late…”

“But we haven’t seen a decline, and that has to mean something,” Elijah chimed in.

Charlie fell back into the bed just a little bit farther. She was relieved he was still alive, even if he might not be by the end of the day.

“Charlotte,” Ethan’s voice was tender, nearly begging as he asked, “Give me your arm.”

Charlie obliged, but her body was so weak that it shook when she held it out. Baz came to her side and steadied her as Ethan prepared the shot.

As Ethan smoothly slid the needle into her skin, he told her, “It’s going to be okay.”

And for the first time, Charlie believed him.

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[littlejeanniebean]

I would love to request if you’re still taking them :))) Amy x Laurie for the challenge

3. Canon Divergence & a. 5 Times + 1 & 4. “I’m not jealous.”

i’m taking requests all the way to Christmas! thank you for this @thatmartinskishit <3 this looks like a different list from the newest one i started using, but if you still have the link, feel free to send it my way so i can reblog it again! xx

5 times they weren’t flirting and the 1 time they were

context: modern au

1.

“You’re playing Tybalt?” Laurie gaped at Amy. 

“What?” She twirled her sword as deftly as a pen. “Jealous?”

“I’m not jealous,” he huffed. “I’m Romeo! I’m the male lead! I just…”

“Ah.” Amy nodded in serene understanding. “You don’t want to duel a girl.”

“It’s not that either!” Laurie lightly parried her sword with his own. “I just… don’t want to duel you. Your mom will have my head!” 

“I mean, if I catch you slippin’, then yes, I will bring your head home to my mama as a present.”

Laurie laughed, his tongue tucked into his cheek. “Alright, little lady, you talk a big game, but I’ve been fencing since I was five! En garde!” 

2. 

“Hello, Amy.” He ambled to a stop in the middle of the sidewalk. 

“Hello, Laurie.” She stuffed her hands, bandaged like an amateur, into the pockets of her jacket.

“What happened to your hand?”

“What happened to your head?”

“I fell off a stool and out a window —”

Amy snorted.

“Yeah, yeah...” He waved her off. “So whatever happened to you can’t be any more embarrassing.”

“My art teacher, Mr. Davis, is an ass. I think. Or maybe I was reading too much into it. He asked me to stay behind to help clean the classroom since I drew that not-so-nice picture of him —”

“And signed it and posted it on the internet like an idiot?”

“Yes,” Amy grunted. “Anyway, I broke some glass jars when he… he just startled me —”

“How?” Laurie’s voice hardened. 

“He just came up behind me, like I said, I’m probably reading too much into him —”

“Amy, your fifteen, you’re very pretty for fifteen, but you’re still fifteen —”

“Don’t tell my mama or she’ll never let me go to another art class again.”

Laurie held the door to their apartment building open for her. “I won’t if you let me pay for your next one and vet the teacher first.”

“Oh, because you’re an excellent judge of character.”

“Well, I’m friends with you, aren’t I?” He grinned winningly. 

“If you’re trying to appeal to my vanity…” Amy pressed the button for the elevator. “It’s working.”

3.

“What is Fred Vaughn doing here?” Laurie wrinkled his nose.

“You invited him,” Amy reminded him.

“But I didn’t expect him to come. It’s camp. In the wilderness. Unless we’re talking about the fashion kind, he hates it.”

“Hi, Fred!” Amy waved Fred over.

“Why would you do that?” Laurie muttered.

“To torment you,” she practically cackled. 

4. 

“I can’t believe I’m stuck here with her!” Amy paced up and down the length of her guest room at her aunt’s, pressing her cellphone to her ear. “I hate —” 

“Don’t let her hear you say it. If she’s really as bad as you all say —”

“There’s no if about it, Laurie! She’s —” 

“Then don’t let her win. Have the best fucking time of your life.” 

“How can I?” Amy flopped down onto the bed. “Beth is sick, again, and until we know whether is fucking ebola from her stupid mission trip —”

“Hey, now…”

Amy bit the inside of her cheek. “I’m sorry, but that’s how I feel. I wish… I love Beth, but I wish she wasn’t so nice sometimes. It’s going to get her hurt or worse. And I don’t understand why only I have to stay away —”

“Because you were with me at camp, so you weren’t exposed like the rest of them. Listen, Amy…” He waited, but no affirmative response came. “Are you listening or wallowing?”

Amy rolled her eyes relentingly. “Listening.” 

“I swear you're worse than Jo when it comes to thinking clearly in times like this.”

“Is that what you wanted to make sure I hear?”

“Yes, because if there’s one thing that truly motivates you, it’s being better than Jo at something.”

She choked out a rueful laugh. “Do you… Do you think I’m… the opposite of Beth? You know, not nice enough?” 

“I think if Santa had a nice list, we’d all rank behind Beth.” 

“Such a diplomat. Your uncle would be proud.”

“Thank you. Get some sleep. I’ll come to see you in the morning, okay?”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

5.

"I wish I could go to L.A. with you." Amy sat at the foot of Laurie's bed, staring longingly at the suitcase he was packing.

"It's not all it's cracked up to be, believe me." Laurie didn't want to go. Didn't want to have to smile and shake hands like a poster boy while his uncle met with deep-pocketed investors who couldn't care less about the actual work they were doing.

"I don't think you understand how lucky you are."

"I didn't ask for a lecture."

"That was one sentence."

"The lecture was coming, though."

"Eh, you've heard it so many times before that at this point, one sentence will suffice to remind you of its entire contents."

"You sound like Jo."

"Yeah, and while you're missing her in Los freaking Angeles, spare a thought for the rest of us, huh?"

"What?" Laurie smirked. "Jealous?"

Amy flipped him off and proceeded to tell him how he was supposed to fold his socks if he wanted them all to fit.

+.

"Amy!"

"Laurie!"

"Amy!"

"Laurie!"

He picked her up and spun her around easily in the middle of Sunset freaking Boulevard. He used his tongue to push his lollipop to the side of his mouth so he could talk to her. "What are you doing here?" 

"What are you still doing here? Your uncle's in San Francisco! I saw the company Insta—"

“Shh, shh, shh, please don’t talk about work —”

“Tsk, tsk, lazy Laurie... lost his lolly —” She plucked the red sucker out of his mouth and ran. 

“Amy!” he laughed, running after her. 

[dabis-girl]

Mine pt.2 | Dabi x Reader | Smut 18+

A/N: its been way too long my loves lets just say I’ve been busy. Anyways this is a follow up to the very first fic I ever published on here. Not sure if this will be come a whole thing but let’s just see where this goes. 

Warnings/ Tags: Dubcon, breeding kink, humiliation ( I think that it but let me know.

Word count: 2.5k 

Summary: After your last encounter you distance yourself from your evil lover and he doesn’t take too kindly to that.  

Read Part One Here

It had been 3 weeks since the last time you had seen Dabi, you had been ignoring his calls and texts. He had gone to far last time usually, you could keep up with his sadistic practices but you had never been okay with being fucking into of a stranger. It appeared that he realized that he had gone too far this time, he had even sent you a gift box filled with lace thongs the replace the one that he had given away. You couldn’t quite place your finger on what upset you the most about that night. What it how he made you into a spectacle or like his property, no one had ever treated you like that.

You tried your best to focus on training and trying to get recruited by a professional hero agency hopefully, you could get pick up as a sidekick. Training had fallen by the wayside after you met Dabi, proving that he was only a distraction. It’s not like he was too supportive of your hero dreams anyway, he always teased you about wanting to be a hero. He didn’t believe that you had it into, not with your weakness being you damned evil lover, there was no way you could hurt him on purpose even if you had to. It wasn’t easy, but you had to put all of that to the back of your mind while you completed your last year at UA.  

It had been so long since you had slept with the window open, you used to leave it open for Dabi to sneak in but you missed the way having a window open made the room less claustrophobic. You had meant to close it before you went to sleep but you have drifted off while watching a movie. You woke up in the middle of the night and the tv was off and the room was pitch black, the moonlight poured through the window reminding you that it needed to closed. It was too late, he was at the edge of the bed staring down at you with a starved look on his face. He had scared you making you retreat to the corner of the bed, he stood over you with a small blue flame sitting atop the palm of his hand. Weeks had passed since he’d slutted you out and completely embarrassed you in front of his colleague, that was the last night you two had seen each other. That night you told him you never wanted to see him again.

“You’ve been ignoring my calls.” He said as he looked down at you with a menacing grin. 

“I told you we have to stop, Dabi. “ You said clutching the blanket off the bed. In that same instant, he’d quickly put out the flame and harshly grasped your face with is rough scarred hand. 

“And why is that? Am I getting in the way of your hero dreams?” He teased keeping a firm grip on your jaw. “I bet you’re dripping right now, thinking about what I’m going to do to you.“ You shake your head and he tightens his grip. “Let me finish little girl.” He growled. “I know what you need, to make this all better.  You need me to drag your slutty ass out into that hallway and make you beg me to fuck you, in front of all of your stupid friends. “ He let out a laugh that scared you but also made you even wetter. “ Am I right?” This humiliation kink that he’d developed was one that you’d never be able to escape.

You knew that you were already wet, your cunt had started drooling the moment you laid eyes on him, it was out of your control. As much as you could try and deny it he knew that you were just as disturbed as he was. You tried your hardest to be opposed to his twisted fantasies, but he had no qualms about shoving his hand down your pants and seeing for himself. This is the reason he constantly taunted you because he knew your protests were empty.  

You didn’t answer and angered him so he picked you up and tossed you over his shoulder heading for the door. You kicked and fought him until he finally released you. He gazed at you and a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he began to cress your face and leaned in for a kiss, painting his lips on yours. He tased like ash and whiskey, his taste excited you as you leaned into his kiss. Just as he as placed a hand on your lower back you sank your teeth hard enough into his lip to draw blood. He reflexively pinned you to the wall, with a loud thud you could feel my slit silkening beneath him as the bulge in his pants strained against you.

“What the fuck?” He spat through gritted teeth. Licking the blood that oozed from his wound he smiled at you. “Playing hard to get tonight I see.” He chuckled 

“Get off of me.” You didn’t even believe the words as they came out of your mouth. Wiping away your saliva he wasn’t angry like you thought he’d be instead, the look on his face was one of amusement. He liked to chase, and you were playing his favorite game. 

“Tell me I’m wrong and you don’t want me. “ He said as his hand traveled down the length of your torso to your thin cotton underwear to tease your clit. “Come on say the word and I’ll stop.” He teased. You thought that you’d had more willpower than this, not a single word of protest left your mouth instead you soft moans peppered the air. He had instructed you to lay on the bed, you didn’t move. 

 Your hesitance perplexed him, by the point you had usually given in. Alas, here you were standing in the same place that he had left you. His eyes narrowed as you were challenging his authority. He took a stance in front of you and folded his arm across his chest, the ice glare of his turquoise eyes caused goosebumps to erupt over your skin. His patience was wearing thin, you had never seen him this angry at least not at you.

 “What now?’ His voice was flat and gravelly impatiently peering down at you. Your chest heaved as each breath was heavier than the next. 

“I told you that we have to stop Dabi.” You deified your body calling out for him. This performance wasn’t any more convincing than your last. “ Can you leave?” You managed to choke out with almost no conviction.   

 “This again?” He rolled his eyes. “ Fine, we’ll just have to do this the hard way, Doll.” He said just as his hand seized around your neck. “That’s what I thought.” He chuckled as he threw you onto the bed. 

You didn’t fight back, Dabi glared down at you as you laid on the bed with no further protests. He tormented you for being a slut and making him go through all this trouble, he called it a sick fantasy. Dabi was a sadistic lover and it made sense that he would all of this would just feed into the twisted mind. A feeling of unease washed over you as you thought about what you were doing, playing into his perverted delusions. As much as you’d hate to admit it you were just as sick as he was, enjoying yourself like this.      

He was standing over you while you had assumed your position on the bed, eyes pleading with him. He kneeled between your legs removing your panties and for a moment he just stared at your exposed mound in all its slick glory.  He reached out a finger nuzzling it betwixt your folds reveling in what he’d done to you. The twitching of your clit caught his attention, he said that it was if she was dancing for him. He was purposefully ignoring your needy clit,  causing you to thrust your hips towards him causing your throbbing bud to brush ever so slightly against the bridge of his nose. The sudden contact caused your body to shudder, craving more you buck your hips with even more force. Dabi had grown tired of your impatience, he grabbed roughly grabbed at your inner thighs forcefully pushing you back.

 “For someone that was so set on wanting me out of their life, you are acting a bit desperate now, aren’t you?” He taunted. “ I should make you beg for being a defiant little brat, make you submit to me finally. Maybe I’ll take you with me, this hero school is getting to your head.” He ranted still gripping your thighs. Your feral whines were making it hard for him to hold out.  “ Your pleasure is in my hands and I don’t hear any begging” He cupped his hand behind his ear.  You bit your lip in an effort to hold back your moans and pleas, angering him more.  It worked, he was livid, abruptly he let go of your legs and stood. “Fine, I’ll leave.” He said plainly, making his way to the window.

“Please.” You gasped scrambling to the edge of the bed following after him.  “Dabi... please stay.” You said  gripping at his shirt pulling back toward the bed. He looked down at you viciously before shrugging you off. 

“Why should I?” Dabi said coldly, your facial expression dropped at his words.  You pleaded with him apologizing for your actions. “With all the stunts you’ve pulled today you’re lucky I’ve kept my composure.” Dabi ranted, he was frustrated this dynamic was getting old. Tonight was going to be your last night in the dorms and you hadn’t the slightest idea. He began to unbutton his pants freeing his dick, allowing it to spring up and bounce off of his lean torso. The same one that had violated you so sweetly as you were bent over the armrest of a filthy sofa. “Show me your sorry slut.” He commanded.

You reached out and wrapped your fingers around his dick satisfied with the weight of him. Stroking him admiring the bulbous tip, you hungrily licked your lips as you watched a bead of precum dribble out of the tip. You took him into your mouth, he moaned as he watched his length disappear as you sucked him down allowing him to bottom out. In the back of your throat. 

“Fuck.” He moaned, grasping the top of your head as you bobbed up and down around him. He had begun to thrust his hips into your mouth causing you to sputter and drool.  He shoved himself down your throat savagely, wrecking your throat. Finally, he halted his assault letting you up for air admiring the thick string of saliva that connected the two of you. Looking up at him you could see the lust in his eyes, his gaze was it’s most ferocious as swooped you up laying down on your back, knees parted waiting for him to fill you.

He trailed his length over your slit coating his dick in your wetness before teasing at your entrance. It was apparent that things would go differently tonight, it wasn’t normal the way he was acting. Usually, he would devour quickly as he was a very busy man but now he seemed to want to take his time. At last, he sank into you at a devilishly slow-pace you let out a loud yelp as he entered you fully before withdrawing before slamming into you with no mercy. His hands moved to grip your ankles forcing your legs further apart and his thrusts seemed even deeper than before. Dabi was looking you in your eyes while he penetrated you, he watched your face contort as he pummeled into you.  

He withdrew himself from you and flipped you over onto your stomach. Planting his hands on your hips he pulled your ass into the air, you felt his tongue on your clit sucking and slurping up the juices that flowed out of you. Without warning he rammed into roughly once again picking up a vicious pace, he continued to reach around and grab you neck lifting your head off of the bed he adjusted his grip so that his hand grasped your jaw. The arch of you back deepened and Dabi leaned down to plant a kiss on your forehead. It was abnormal for him to show this type of affection during sex but you weren’t opposed in fact you found your pussy clenching around him. Dabi continued to push you off of him, grabbing your hair to align your face with his pelvis he entered your mouth again.

“Look at you.” He gleamed. “You look so good cleaning up your mess.” He brushed his fingers through your hair while he watched you slobber on his dick. Having had enough he pushed you back onto the bed entering you with a primal force. He pushed himself into you repeatedly hitting your spongy core.

“Yes Dabi, please.” You begged for your release knowing that he’d give it to you. At this point, you were out of control writhing beneath him, your hands searched for something to grasp. At first, it was the sheets, but you had managed to pull them completely off the bed and they were now bunched around the bodies of you and your lover. The next attempts were the pillows but Dabi had snatched them away from you so that you’d end up gripping at his wrists. Your release was close and he could tell by the way that pussy was tightening around him. 

“Cum for me Doll. “ Dabi said before he kissed you. Like clockwork, you came undone beneath him. Seconds later he came himself thrusting harder into you to burry his seed, he let out a throaty groan as the walls of your cunt milked him. He’d never came inside of you before, it shocked you especially considering the be knew you weren’t on birth control. You jumped off of him and watched in disbelief as his seed dripped out of you. “Congratulations you’re gonna be a mommy.” He laughed. “Now get your things you’re coming with me.” He said. 

“What do you mean? “ You spoke with confusion. “I’m not going anywhere.” 

“You can either come with me now or wait a few months for your stomach to swell and people to start asking questions.” He said as he zipped his pants. “The choice is yours.” He shrugged. He hoped that his plan would work he didn’t know if you were actually pregnant but may you were shocked enough to take his words at face value. 

“You’re right. “ You said defeated. There was no way to pinpoint what you were feeling, the mix of emotions were bittersweet. On one hand, you were leaving behind everything you had worked so hard for, and on the other, you were going to be with the man that you love carrying his child maybe.    

Ultimately you decided that Dabi was too good to give up as if he’d ever let you go anyways. 

[legoshi-plz]

Confession (Bill x Reader)

Summary: Bill has an obsession. Bully!Bill x Lynx! Reader.

Warnings: Cursing. Bullying. That’s about it.

A/N: This was a requested fic. I don’t really care for Bill’s character but this was extremely fun to write 😁

///////

You once again found yourself in detention. This was the third time this month, which had to be a new record for you. You angrily scrubbed the cafeteria tray as you seethed in hatred at a certain Bengal Tiger that landed you in here.

Bill and his goddamn personal vendetta against you that had haunted your life for the past 4 years now. The worse part was that you had done absolutely nothing to him to warrant such a grudge. One day he simply decided to hate you the same way he simply decided to make sure every day of your life was more difficult thanks to him.

It had all started in middle school. Actually the story dates back before middle school. It started when you were born.

You were a [Y/C] Lynx, a pretty rare form of bobcat. In actuality, all forms of Bobcats were rare in this city. But that never hindered you as a child nor made you feel different. You were happy and always smiling. People always told you how you had such a beautiful smile and eyes that were even more captivating.

“She’ll be quite the heartbreaker when she gets older,” your mother and her friends would joke all the time.

You had friends in abundance in elementary school and in middle school it seemed the trend would continue. Until you got your first boyfriend. He was an ordinary leopard, sweet as could be and always made you laugh. You were in heaven for all of maybe two weeks when Bill started his onslaught.

It started off as snickering behind your back. Then he began enlisting your so-called friends in his teasing. Bill was pretty popular given not only his status as a Tiger but also his ability to make girls swoon, even Herbivores, so it was all too easy for him to get your friends to turn against you. The two of you had classes together but you’d never said a word to him. It didn’t matter, he picked on you anyway.

He gradually moved on to spreading nasty rumors, writing cruel things in your notebook, and even tripping you up in the hallway. Even your friends who weren’t ensnared by his charm began to steer clear of you. Your then-boyfriend called it quits so that Bill would ease off of him as well. You started to feel incredibly dejected, going from having quite the outgoing personality to being withdrawn and quiet.

And that continued until high school. You put all your eggs in the basket that high school would be better. It had to be. You’d even gotten accepted into the highly coveted Drama club, a big step towards you getting over your shyness. You finally had something to look forward to in terms of school.

All that was crushed however, when Bill sauntered into the club’s Freshman orientation. You felt physically sick at the thought of being subjected to his torment for another three years.

At first it had started to be no big deal. You stayed out of his way and he pretended that you weren’t there. You made a couple of friends again and were even doing well in the club. As well as you could at least while trying your best to not be seen.

And the President of the club at the time (a senior Antelope that was the Cherrington Heartthrob) offered you a part in the upcoming play. It wasn’t a main role but it was considerable for a Freshman.

“T-there must be some sort of mistake,” you said quietly as the remainder of the group either gushed or groaned over the roles assigned to them.

“No mistake, you’re easily one of the prettiest girls in this Theater, maybe even in the school. I’d be an idiot not to give you the role of the ‘Fairest Maiden’,” he said casually as he walked away. You turned around to see Bill staring at you from across the room. He looked livid.

Bill never passed up on an opportunity to let you know how ugly you were, calling you a “hideous disgrace to the feline community.” For someone like you to play a part of beauty? It had to be a cruel joke.

And so that was the straw that broke the tigers back. Somehow, it was even worse than before, his contempt for you hidden behind his Nice Guy persona. Nobody would ever believe half the things he’d done or said to you, not that you would tell anybody. Wardrobe malfunctions (that just so happen be in the form of someone ripping your clothes to shreds), bumping past you and nearly knocking you down, trashing your locker, loosening the bolts on your desk/chair. Anything he could think of to make your life a living Hell, he did it.

Which brought you to your current situation. You were currently washing dishes in detention yet again because somebody had ripped the roses from every rose bush in the school’s courtyard, and haphazardly stuffed them in your desk so that everyone could see. Before you could even enter the classroom to witness Bill’s handywork in the flesh, you were called into the Principal’s office and sentenced to two weeks detention. Typical.

“Well, well, well what do we have here,” you knew that voice anywhere.

“What do you want, Bill?” You asked quietly, not bothering to turn around.

“You just can’t seem to stay out of trouble can you?” Yoy could hear the smirk in his voice but you were determined not to let him get you riled up so you remained silent.

He walked up besides you and slapped the tray you were currently washing out of your hands. The harshness of his actions caused you to gasp, frozen in place.

“I asked you a question,” he growled, grabbing your arm and spinning you around to face him. Now you were actually beginning to panic. It was already late in the evening and you were here all alone. Bill had never physically hit you before but there was a first time for everything.

“L-leave me alone, Bill,” you craned you neck to look up at his face, now glowing in anger and disgust. He was always so angry around you, as if your mere existence was an offense to his own.

“And what are you going to do if I don’t?” He barred his fangs at you and you felt your eyes go wide in horror. Would he really attack you? There was no one around or near enough to hear you scream. You were an idiot for thinking you were safe from any threats on campus just because you were a Carnivore. You should have been more cautious like a Herbivore and maybe you wouldn’t be in this situation.

“I... I... I can’t do anything about it,” you whimpered in defeat. His grip on your wrists tightened.

“Of course you can’t. Poor little Y/N, too weak to protect herself. Thinks all she has to do is bat those pretty little eyes and guys will come running. Well where are they now huh?” Bill roared and you felt tears well in your eyes.

“Bill, please stop,” you whined softly. Bill caught your gaze and held it for a long moment before you saw something in him finally snap.

“Fuck it,” Bill murmured to himself before latching his lips onto your own. You wanted to recoil immediately but you were once again frozen in place.

It seemed that his instincts took over because in a matter of seconds he had picked you up and placed you on the edge of the sink all without breaking the kiss. His hands went to your waist to pull you closer before he jerked back, pushing you away. He had a look of shock on his face as if you had slapped him.

He was panting, his eyes filled with horror at what he’d done. He immediately turned and fled without another word.

////////

The next few days almost didn’t feel real. It was like you were trapped in a weird fever dream that dragged on endlessly. You might have even believed you had imagined the whole thing if not for Bill’s sudden change in behavior. He went from endless borderline harassment to avoiding you like the plague. It was actually.... pleasant? If you had known a kiss was all it took to get him off your back, you would have done it a long time ago.

One week bled into another and you foolishly let your guard down. You were walking back to your room from detention when someone grabbed you and pulled you into a dark empty archway. It took your eyes a moment to adjust to the lack of lighting but one look at the striped hand clutching your bicep and you knew who was behind this.

“Let go of me!” You began to struggle against his hold but Bill refused to release you.

“We need to talk. Or rather, I’m going to talk and you’re going to listen,” Bill sounded serious, more serious than usual at least, so you stopped struggling and actually listened.

“I have a girlfriend, a Tigress, the way nature intended-

“Look if this is about the other night, it never happened okay? It was a mistake, it didn’t mean anything,” Bill slammed his other hand against the wall besides you effectively caging you and shutting you up.

“How could you say that?” He growled, “ How can you sit there and say it meant nothing?”

You finally gained the courage to look up at him and immediately regretted it. His face was a mix between pure fury and utter anguish. You began to seriously doubt if you would actually make it out of this alive.

“You just don’t get it do you? How hard this is for me!” He spat. Anger began to boil in you. How dare he claim your very existence was hard on him when he had made every day of you life for years a living hell.

“I think about you night and fucking day! You’re always fucking there, acting so goddamn innocent. Acting like you don’t see anyone. Well I’m tired of being goddamned invisible!” He was heaving in malice but his eyes gave him away. They were desperate, hurt.

“B-Bill.... I don’t... understand.”

“There you go again, acting clueless. Do I have to spell it out for ya?” He leaned in closer and you could feel his breath fan your face, “I can’t get you out of my head. Never could, but since that kiss? Fuck, Y/N, I want you. Bad. Always have, only difference in now I don’t think I can control it. I’ve tasted perfection and I’m not going back.”

You were so stunned that all you could manage to do was stare. Before you was the boy who hated your guts, and now he was trying to make some sort of fear mongered confession? This had to be a joke.

“Y-you can’t be serious.... Bill how many times have you called me ugly? Or dumb? Or weak?” You gasped.

“I was lying. Every time. You’re gorgeous, and everyone knows it. I’m surprised you don’t, with the way these losers throw themselves at you.” His face was inching closer to your own.

“Everyone hates me Bill, thanks to you. No one is throwing themselves at me,” you lean away in disgust.

“Yeah because I was protecting you. You really wanna waste your time on scum leopards when you could have the King of the Jungle?”

“I don’t wa-” he cut you off by crushing his lips to yours. This kiss was nothing like the one from Detention . He had confidence about him, using every skill he acquired over the years to show off. In any other instance, you would have been swooning. But this was Bill, your bully, and you weren’t going to let yourself fall for his antics.

“You feel that? I can make you feel like that all the time. I can make you happy, so freaking happy. Just give me a chance,” his breathing was husky as he broke the kiss.

“Bill this is wrong. You’ve picked on me for years-”

“I know, fuck. I know alright, but you can’t really blame me. I had to get your attention somehow, I had to get you to notice me. C’mon, you like me too. That’s why you’re always staring at me, making sure to skip around me. You’ve been playing this game for while,” He couldn’t honestly be this self-absorbed and psychotic could he?

“I was afraid of you, idiot! I was trying to stay out of your way so you’d leave me alone!”

“Bullshi-”

“Bill!? Is that you man? What are you doing over there?” A voice in the distance (one of his friends, no doubt) called over and he unknowingly let your arm go. You didn’t wait a second as you bolted from under him, running away as if your life depended on it.

You didn’t stop running until you got to your dorm, immediately getting ready for bed without a word to anyone. Sleep evaded you, of course, the very time you needed to escape your thoughts the most. They kept going back to a certain tiger.

Had he really been pining after you all these years? Was he seriously so fucked up he thought torturing you was a way to your heart? Was this all apart of some elaborate scheme to humiliate even further?

You couldn’t be sure as the same questions played on loop through your mind. The only thing you could be sure of was you’d never been kissed like that before. Your lips still tingled defiantly with the ghost of his touch. You wanted to despise him. You had despised him. And nothing about that had changed except now you knew what a good kisser he was.

You groaned and buried your face into your pillow. You needed to get him out of your mind. Years of abuse couldn’t be wiped away in one evening.

So why didn’t the butterflies in your stomach go away?

///////////

AN: I wasn’t sure what I wanted the endgame to be so I just ended here.

[beerecordings]

hey!!! i'd love to see more with the favored puppet au, that's always been one of my favorite concepts. maybe at a point where chase feels apathy in the face of anti, his caretaker, being a bad person? or something from before, when anti decided chase was worrying him and he didn't want to play the games anymore? :'D ty ty

Favored Puppet AU (Chase): After stalking, haunting, and toying with Chase for years, Anti eventually realized it was no longer fun to play with him while his suffering was so high. Instead, Anti kidnapped Chase and keeps him away from the world as its companion. Chase has learned to be alright with that. The human world, after all, was never very kind to him.

Triggers for heavy discussions of Chase’s past suicide attempts and depression and Chase trying to cut himself again, though he doesn’t succeed. Also might be considered soft!Anti, though Chase is the only one it’s soft for.

Florence I decided to combine that first prompt (Chase feeling apathy when Anti’s being awful) with another prompt so you will see that later! for this one I decided to do that moment where Anti decided he didn’t want to play games anymore. thank you for sending them my dude!! also this is my first time writing for this au so the mythology is really experimental but I just tried to do something new with Anti :) it’s very inhuman and doesn’t really understand Chase, but it decides it wants him, so...

.

It sits on top of his refrigerator and watches him have his first meal of the day, a depression snack at nine at night compromised almost entirely of the last crumbs in an old bag of Cheetos. The skinny little human creature – though Anti’s seen him staring at his shirtless torso in the mirror enough times to know he’s only growing more dissatisfied with his softening stomach and arms – throws his head back and dumps the rest of the crisps into his mouth, getting orange dust all over his unkempt beard. Anti giggles at the sight of him. Clown boy with his Cheeto dust and the bags under his eyes. Little human thing. Too small and silly even to be able to die. Goofy, stupid human. Slouching, miserable child.

But if there is one thing Anti enjoys about the human, it is his fierce, hateful courage. At first, the laughter in the edges of his hearing sent chills up the boy’s spine and made him turn around with wild eyes, spitting and gnashing his blunt mortal teeth, but now, after months of being haunted, he does nothing except turn around and glare.

Anti is invisible on his refrigerator, but the human – what is his name? Charles, Casey, something – he still tries to find it. He has eyes made to burn, blue as flame, though, to be perfectly fair, fire can be as much a source of life as the bitter weapon Casey makes with his gaze now.

He used to be warm. Anti remembers. He would stutter when the girl came to see him and he carried those little chips with him, rubbing them in his pocket when he passed the liquor store, and his children were all he thought about. But he’s changed. Anti watched it happen. For whatever reason, the girl stopped bringing the children by at all, and at some point the pain of it must have overwhelmed the man, and Anti watched him embrace old habits with a ferocity only describable as self-harm. After his second suicide attempt – that was the only time Anti let Casey see it, standing over him and staring at the crimson of his blood in the bathtub while the man screamed for it to kill him already, shrieking in despair as Anti picked up his phone from the bathroom counter and dialed 911, giggling at the thought of just how powerful his despair would be when he woke up in the hospital – he removed his children from the background of that phone and replaced it with a stock image of the ocean provided to him by Apple’s recommendation.

The light slid out of his eyes at some point. Anti was there. It watched the whole thing.

It enjoyed the whole thing. Mostly.

“Fucking kill me, then, bitch,” hisses Casey, slinking through his own kitchen like he’s being hunted. He is. “Playing games with me, always, well, I’m tired of playing, you know that, I’m tired… fucking kill me then, not afraid of you, not afraid…”

This is also true. Anti’s pretty sure the only reason he moved back to America was to make sure none of his friends would be in the way of the creature who haunts him finally finishing the job. And to stop them from telling him “you need to get help, you’re talking to the voices in your head and seeing things, it’s not real, you need to see a specialist” in an endless carousel of concern and – as Casey always perceived it – condescension.

“Fucking kill me!” he screams, slamming his hand down on his counter. He shatters a pile of unwashed dishes on accident and blood comes pooling up hot and coppery in the lines of his palm, but Casey doesn’t even look down, doesn’t even flinch, just keeps staring straight forward with fire eyes as wild as a horse’s.

But Anti’s bored with him. It hops down from the fridge and wanders through the apartment, whistling. In the kitchen, it hears the man howling as the whistling returns to torment him, the monster’s singing following him for hours and hours every day, never letting him sleep.

Anti used to think it was really funny, that something as simple as a whistled lullaby could make the man shatter in half and sob like his heart was broken open in his hands.

But honestly?

It’s less fun these days.

“Music, music, music,” rants the human in the kitchen, slamming his palm down again and again, cutting open his palm again, again. There’s banging on the walls and muffled yelling. The neighbors are sick of his screaming. He’ll be evicted soon, Anti reckons. Humans used to travel in packs, making it harder to pick them off, but these days ones like Casey often find themselves alone, and no one is around to stand up for him. “I’ll make you stop, I’ll make you shut up, shut up, shut up….”

Anti lets the human sprint past it and retreat to his bedroom, crawling under the bed and taking his laptop with him. He puts on big earphones and presses them hard against his ears, and he rocks himself as his music plays, turned up to one hundred on his computer, mumbling to himself, laughing sometimes, if Anti listens closely enough.

Anti crouches down to look at him. It hums to itself and touches Casey’s face, and he shrivels in on himself and whimpers, but he does not fight or push it away. Not anymore.

He used to be so much more fun before he started to crumble instead of break.

And yet, Anti has not killed him.

It does not know why.

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

When bored – these days, it often is – Anti likes to wander through the other apartments that surround its own. Watching the human sleep can only be entertaining for so long, even if it does like to hear his sleepy, thick breathing and see his peaceful, dopey face, and it’s nice to just roam sometimes. Anyway, the people nearby can be interesting, though Anti doesn’t mess with them the way it does Casey. No one else has ever been that entertaining.

A young couple lives to their right, newly-married with a little rat of a dog they call Barkley. Anti’s human likes most dogs, but he grew tired a long time ago of the shrieking yips through the walls. Anti itself doesn’t mind it so much. One more thing to annoy the human on his slow road to madness.

“Who’s the best boy in the world?”

It passes by their door and hears them cooing and praising the yelping thing. “Are you a good boy, Barkley? Who’s my good little boy? Yes, you are! Yes, you are!”

Barkley has been sick for a few days and their fussing over him has been endless as they clean the nasty little animal up after every time it vomits, carefully feeding it vet-recommended dog food and plenty of healthy human snacks whenever Barkley shows an interest. How anyone could care to look after a creature so pathetic and useless is well beyond Anti, but it thinks it’s funny, really. Humans will bow down to pet the lowest of creatures.

I am not like that, it thinks to itself, drifting through the door, invisible. It is important for me to not be like that.

Anti had never had an interest in pets before this year, but, increasingly, it likes to come over and watch them look after Barkley. Constantly it reminds itself – I am not like that. It is important for me to not be like that.

But it doesn’t understand why this is important or why it should not be like that. Truthfully, it has never been skilled with its own emotions. It does as it pleases and what makes it happy makes it happy. If there is depth to that, it isn’t interested.

“Okay, Barkley baby, mommy and daddy are going to go for a walk and be right back in a few.”

“Aww, poor baby, we know. You wanna come on our walk and see all the other puppies along the way, but you can’t go while your belly’s all grumpy!”

“Yeah, little Barkley can’t come today, but mommy and daddy will be right back.”

“Mommy and daddy will be right back, we promise.”

They shower the dog in pets and belly rubs as they baby-talk their way towards the door, blowing it kisses as they head out and lock the door behind them.

“Do you think we should check on this guy here who’s so loud sometime?”

“What, that Chase guy? Are you kidding me? What a creep. He’s so fucking loud. We’re going to have to complain to the landlord again. Guy’s out of his mind.”

Ah, yes, Chase, that’s his name. Slipping into their apartment like a ghost, Anti laughs at the human fickleness and leans down to tweak the little dog’s tail, making it yelp in alarm and start running in circles around the apartment. It giggles and spends some time chasing it and leading it around with its chew toys and such. It likes the way it can make the dog do anything. It likes the cute little dog even if it is such a disgusting, purposeless, stupid little animal. It coos and picks the puppy up, tickling its skinny little ribs and rubbing between its ears.

“Stupid puppy,” it manages to say, in its painful, broken voice. Human language has always been difficult for it, but it prides itself on understanding it well. One day maybe it will speak it clearly too, though for now it knows it would sound like a struggling, glitching machine to a real human. “Stupid baby doggy.”

Faint laughter reaches its sharp ears and it quiets, setting the dog back down. For a moment, only silence, and it crouches in the living room with its black eyes boring into the universe, motionless.

Then it hears raucous laughter as the window in the back of the apartment is pried open and a pair of much, much more pathetic creatures than itself or even this little dog crash their way into the couple’s home. It straightens up, shaking its head, and heads back towards the back room, where a baby’s nursery is beginning to develop. Above the cradle, a pair of imps stop short, staring at Anti as they hover, startled, in mid-air.

Wearing its human’s form, it puts its hands on its hips and waits for them to speak.

They begin to laugh again, loud and boisterous, spit flying out of the one’s mouth while the second’s eyes bulge with hilarity.

“A fairy in California?” The imp rolls in circles in the air, shrieking with laughter. “Who would have thought?”

“Little far from home, Mr. Potatohead,” quips the second, floating up to the ceiling, sneering and sticking out its little purple tongue. Anti’s mouth curls distastefully. “Why don’t you go back to your hunts and your parades, your highness?”

“How’d it get here without getting stuck behind all that running water?”

“Careful, pure-blood, this spoon looks like it might be made out of iron!”

They dissolve into maniacal impling laughter, rocking through the air, shape-shifting in the limited ways they can to make themselves look uglier. If it were the sort of fairy who gave a fuck, Anti supposes it would feel disrespected, but it doesn’t much care. They’re little annoyances who have clearly mistaken it for a much less powerful creature than it really is. They break the monotony for a moment. It’ll kill them in a second. Anti supposes they just came here to make trouble. Imps love break into human homes and stealing their food or making their milk go rotten. They may well have been the ones who made Barkley sick, just to watch the humans take care of the dumb little thing for their entertainment. They’re common in this part of the city because the mountains are close, and imps are snuffling, stupid little creatures of the earth.

“Ew, what’s that?” squawks the first imp, floating closer to it. “Do you smell it?”

“Yuck. His majesty stinks like a human.”

“Just like a fairy to keep a pet.”

“Aw, do you have a widdle human to look after?”

“Maybe we should pay a visit to your stinky little human.”

“Yeah, maybe it needs some company.”

“Some friends.”

“Someone to play a couple fun games with.”

“And then we can find out what it is that made Tinkerbell here go all soft in the middle, like a rotten – ”

But they never get to find out exactly what rotted thing Anti resembles. It snatches the imp out of the air in one snapping motion like the bite of a snake and crushes its body between its fingers, its eyes turning black as the juices run down its wrist.

In its fear, the other imp does not even scream. Its eyes bulge in alarm and it scrambles for the window, but it never makes it. Barkley yelps in victory, chasing his own tail around as Anti’s teeth come down around the meaty little imp and tear it to pieces, silencing the both of the little monsters, leaving nothing behind.

It’ll be picking that out of its teeth for a week, it muses, wandering back out of the apartment and towards its own. But that’s what they get for talking about Chase like that.

It’s odd, though, how it makes it pause and think. That is something other spirits do sometimes, isn’t it? Take a human and keep it as a pet.

The couple with the dog are returning from their walk, holding slushies and each other’s hands.

“Barkley!” they coo, greeting their excited dog at the door. “Are you a good boy? Oh, why are you shaking, baby boy? What a silly little puppy you are. Who’s a cutie? Are you a good boy? You just want a big hug, huh, you just want to be looked after. Mwah, mwah.”

It’s kind of a cute dog, in the end.

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

It liked the way Chase looked up at it, that one day it allowed him to see it.

It liked the way his eyes changed. He was not afraid – Chase is a creature of courage and despair, and these, in Anti’s experience, are both flowers from the same root – but he was distressed. Anti would say that this was because the form he takes is such a disturbingly odd impression of a human that it scared the human, but, truthfully, he thinks he saw a sort of awe in Chase’s eyes that day as well.

He loves fiction. This is one thing it learned about Chase early on. He does not have a reputation for intelligence but he does love his fantasy escapism, or he did back when he still had the energy for things like interests and hobbies. He liked Gravity Falls and Doctor Who and anything with sci-fi or dragons and he would get stuck at bookstores every now and then just walking through the YA section and wishing he was still young enough to enjoy them as much as he used to. In the old days, human storytellers were vital parts of their social structure. Anti thinks Chase would have been a storyteller, in his own way, if this were a few hundred years ago. Maybe he would be happier then.

It does not know when it began wondering about Chase’s happiness. Do not ask it.

The point is that Anti liked the way Chase looked up at it, that one day it allowed him to see it, that day he tried to kill himself.

“No,”  he shook his head as Anti took his phone and called for an ambulance. “No.”

But his eyes were looking at something beyond life and death, something he had only read about in books, and Anti did not understand it.

It thinks, now, that Chase was looking at something he had longed for when he was younger. But Anti does not know what. There are fairytales about prophetic heroes and novels about chosen ones and tv shows where fantastical creatures whisk people away on great adventures, but Anti is not a fantasy. Anti is a nightmare. This is something Chase has always known, and Anti has always known, and there should be no misunderstanding between them.

But it liked the way Chase looked at him, that one time it allowed him to see it. That’s all. That’s all it’s saying. It doesn’t mean anything. It is not like that. It’s important that it’s not like that.

Anti touches the human’s face. He has fallen asleep beneath his bed, and his breathing is clear and deep, rhythmic as the song of a bird.

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

Chase sleeps for fourteen hours and then gets up to make a Cup-o’-Noodles. Beef flavored. It’s the only thing left in the pantry except half a jar of strawberry jam and some milk he was too drunk to put in the fridge a couple days ago, spoiled completely by now. Even the cheap rum he’s been buying is out on the table beside the stove. He hasn’t bothered to get dressed and he cuts a pathetically small figure standing over the stove in nothing but some gym shorts and rolled-up Christmas socks because everything else needs to be washed.

Anti roams the apartment, humming distantly and checking up on things. It deletes an unread message on Chase’s phone from contact name “Marv” and waters the succulent Chase picked up on an impulse last week. It’s so funny to it how attached the human can get to things, and so quick too. He once found a bee on the windowsill, brought it sugar water, and looked after it for several hours before letting it outside. The human put on his loudest comedy show afterwards to try and keep himself cheerful, but he’d ended up crying about halfway through, and Anti couldn’t tell if it was related to the bee or not. He’s always crying. He didn’t always used to be crying. He used to be less deep in his despair and much more fun to play with.

Anti shakes the thoughts off and decides to prove that Chase is still fun to play games with. There’s nothing deep about their relationship, Chase just happens to be entertaining. That’s the only reason it followed him all the way from Ireland. It floats towards the kitchen, silent and invisible. It’ll give him a quick scare, not enough to put him off his dinner, just enough to remind him he should still be fighting. Anti shape-shifts cleanly into a small boy with black hair and deep onyx eyes and goes to stand behind Chase, silent and still, staring up at the child’s father as he stirs the noodles in silence.

“I know you’re behind me,” he says after a moment. “Looking like Hunter.”

Anti startles and shivers back into invisibility, drawing away. Chase turns blearily to see that it’s gone and he laughs, deep and hollow.

“Yeah,” he mumbles, stumbling a little as he tilts back his rum. Anti knows he’s already drunk from the calmness in his tired voice. “Used to your tricks by now. You been getting to know me, I know. I been getting to know you too.”

He snorts to himself and leans back against the stove, seeming to forget his noodles. He squints blearily around the room, rubbing at his eyes. He hasn’t put his contacts in since the last time he tried to kill himself. Wanted to make sure he cut the veins, but after he survived that night, it didn’t much matter if he could see or not.

“I think I can sort of tell when you’re close, most of the time,” he adds. Anti sits at the dining table across the room, frowning. “Like… I can feel you. Or something. See you, maybe. I think you make things… a different color. Does that make sense?”

He points sluggishly towards the dining table and then shrugs, letting his hand drop again.

“Doesn’t matter, I guess.”

His pot is boiling over. The water will burn his hands in a moment, resting as they are against the edge of the stove. Chase laughs to himself again, shaking his head, and throws back the rum for so long that he’s panting when he’s done with the drink.

“Funny,” he says. “Would have almost liked for you to be there. As Hunter, I mean. See my baby one more time. My baby. Hunter, my son…”

His eyes trail far away. Anti doesn’t think he’s looking at anything at all. There’s nothing left for him to look at.

Water cascades across the stove, boiling. Chase whimpers as it hits his hands, but he doesn’t pull away.

Something yanks him back.

He stumbles away from the stovetop. Drunk, he can’t keep his balance, and he goes crashing to the ground, falling on his back and dropping his bottle, which shatters into pieces of glass and a small flood of rum across the kitchen floor. Chase gasps, grabbing at his bruised elbow, staring around for a sight of the monster that has haunted him for so long.

The pot of noodles goes spinning off its stovetop onto the other side of the stove and stops boiling after a moment, quieting the kitchen. The knob on the oven flicks to ‘off’ and the red light disappears from the stovetop, leaving it dark and silent.

Chase closes his eyes.

Anti stares at him and it knows, in the moment, that the human was not lying.

He can sense it.

He can tell it’s there.

“Why,” croaks Chase. “Did you call 911 that night?”

Anti steps back from him. His movement shifts glass on the floor with a faint clinking noise.

“Was this what you wanted?” Chase whispers. “Just to see me live like this a little while longer? Just to make sure I couldn’t get away that easy? Was killing myself too good for you? Are you ever going to actually finish me off?”

He is crying. He is always crying.

This isn’t fun anymore, Anti realizes. It isn’t funny.

And honestly –

Honestly…

Honestly, it doesn’t know why it called 911.

“I think that’s what I’ve actually been waiting for,” laughs Chase, sobbing as tears run down his reddened cheeks. “Fuck. Not even staying alive waiting for it, that’s not what I mean, I mean… like I haven’t killed myself because I’ve been waiting for you to do it.”

He throws his head back and cries and laughs and hugs himself with his burned hands and scarred wrists, his whole body shuddering with the tears.

“But you won’t,” he sobs into the darkness, as Anti’s presence draws away from him and the sun fades. “You won’t. Will you? No one will give me any mercy. No one wants me to have any fucking peace. So tired… You won’t…”

Anti retreats to his room.

It doesn’t want to face him right now.

He doesn’t want to face him right now.

Chase cries in the kitchen for a long time, until his whole body feels tired and numb and drained. He doesn’t clean up the glass. He doesn’t clean up the rum. He doesn’t clean up the water. He would probably have slept right there on the wooden floor of his kitchen, but the doorbell rings.

Too drunk to put himself together, he staggers to the door and throws it open to the cold, red-eyed and stumbling like a zombie.

“Uh,” says the delivery kid, fixing her alarmed expression after a moment. “Here’s your food, sir.”

Chase is too confused even to question. Almost dazed by it, he takes the bag of take-out carefully from her hands, thanks her in a mumble, and shuts the door behind him.

KFC.

Did he order this?

No, he was making ramen before he made a mess of it. But it’s what he always gets. Chicken tenders and mashed potatoes and a couple extra biscuits for the next morning.

In his bedroom, Anti closes out of the delivery app and drops his phone onto the bed, deleting one more message from Marv before it drifts past Chase and goes wandering, thinking, roaming, lost.

It’s not like that… it’s important that it’s not. It’s not like that.

Zayn and Mary are walking Barkley. Anti watches the happy little dog go yipping and dancing in the space between them, happy and safe and recovering, cared for by his masters.

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

The apartment fills with soft light in the evenings. White and gold from the weary sun. When it hits the horizon, the gold pirouettes and falls apart into a dozen different watercolors across the long shoulders of the sky. Pouring patiently through the windows, like syrup from the bark of a great dark tree.

Anti sits beside Chase’s bed and watches him sleep, playing slowly with his hair.

It likes Chase’s hair. It always has. Soft and dark but sometimes golden in the sunlight, and ever-so-slightly curly, so you can wrap it around your finger if you’re gentle, and make it spring back again afterwards.

Anti wants to kill something. It doesn’t know what. A human, probably, but not Chase. Chase, Chase, Chase. It had forgotten how much it likes that name.

You like a lot of things about him, it lets itself realize. When did that happen? When the fuck did that happen? One day you’re making him having a repeated dream where he’s carefully cut into pieces and eaten alive by a sentient crocodile because he always got scared of the one in Peter Pan when he was a child and the next you’re thinking about how soft his hair is. It makes Anti laugh, for a moment, but it thinks it feels… sad. It doesn’t know why.

Chase wakes up and it drifts back into invisibility, leaving him to sit up and look around. Check his phone for the time and stare at the floor for a while. Today he is groggy, but not sad, which strikes Anti as odd. Most days he is groggy and sad. Sad groggy stupid human. Anti’s sad groggy stupid hurting human. It sighs and spins lazily in the air, watching Chase push himself up on his feet, his eyes dead and weary.

Someone slams on their door and Chase groans, rubbing at his forehead. He’s hungover again.

“Brody!” The slamming insists. Chase stutters out a breath, slightly frightened, and totters to the door, pulling it open.

It’s his landlord. Anti’s lips curl up in a snarl. A mean, stupid man, stupider than Chase, even, and he looks angry.

And he starts to shout at Chase, and Anti does not like it. It doesn’t interfere, but it doesn’t like it either, and it knows Chase will do nothing. He stands there shirtless in his Christmas socks and stares at his landlord like he can’t believe any of this is real – not because it’s rare for him to be in trouble, just because his life is an alley puddle full of cigarettes and bathing rats and he’s most likely dissociating – and just nods when he’s told to get his act together and pipe the fuck down before he gets kicked out.

“Yes,” says Chase. “Okay.”

The landlord leaves.

Chase shuts the door behind him and looks directly at Anti, invisible on the ceiling above him.

“Jokes on him,” he says dully. “He’ll have to be the one to clean my blood out of the bathtub.”

Anti blinks. Chase pauses, letting his head rest against the cool wall for a moment before he pushes himself back up and wanders back towards his bedroom.

“What you will do?” asks Anti.

Chase startles so hard he slams into the wall of the hallway, whirling around to look at him. Unnerved by his response, Anti scowls and backs away again.

“Sorry, did you just talk to me?” asks Chase. “It’s a dream, then? Or did you talk to me in real life? Or am I really losing it finally? I mean, worse than I have already.”

Anti grumbles to itself and gets up in the fan, making the blades spin slowly, sulking. Can’t even talk to the human without him freaking out.

“Must still be drunk,” mumbles Chase, retreating back to his room.

Anti gets up and follows him.

“What, are you worried?” snaps Chase, digging under the bed, and Anti grins at the heat he’s showing again. That’s more like it. “Haunt me for, what, eight months and now you’re worried? I know you’re there, asshole.”

Anti lets him hear it giggling. Chase rolls his eyes and then he gives a short laugh, shaking his head.

Anti feels pleased, it thinks. Chase turns to look at him. He can’t see him, but he knows it’s there. Anti likes that.

“You really are a monster,” says Chase softly, smiling at it.

And then Anti sees, in his hand, the little tin where he keeps his razor blades.

Anti’s mouth falls in a frown.

Chase looks up into the sunset. Orange and gold, tonight. Flowing over his hair and into his eyes, making them alight. Fire eyes. Fire Chase.

“I hated you for a long time,” says Chase. “But you’re either a monster or the part of my brain that really wants to hurt me, so I guess either way I shouldn’t blame you for being what you are.”

He stands up, straighter than he has in a long time, still fixated on that sunset.

“I… I’ll miss…”

Anti stares at him, waiting, but Chase never finishes his sentence. After a long moment, he turns and takes his phone off of his bed. A slow, shaky breath escapes him.

He always takes his calls between the hallway and the living room so he can pace. Anti knows. Anti knows everything about him. Anti knows things about him he doesn’t know about himself. Anti likes things about him he doesn’t like about himself.

The human steps into the hallway and opens his contacts, carefully picking a name he hasn’t picked in long months, and he closes his eyes, and he waits.

But no one answers. Chase lets out a soft, miserable laugh, gripping the phone in both hands.

“Ah, damn… ha. Sorry, Schneep, I was really hoping you’d pick up.”

He circles quietly in the hallway, running his hands through his hair, his eyes closed and that phone held up to his ear, trying to breathe even instead of weeping.

“Look, man, um. I know we fell apart. Honestly, I really needed you, and you were just too busy for me, and that stung, it did. Maybe it was selfish, but I just… I needed you, Schneep. And I felt like all you cared about was the research, and…”

He rubs his face, brushing away tears. Anti stands at the end of the hall, staring.

“Well, I didn’t call you to accuse you of anything. I just wanted you to know that, um, even though we both hurt each other… I always loved you, man. And I don’t got the courage to call Jacks or Marv, okay, but I love them too. I love them too. And I’m sorry. Cause I was a coward for running away from them, and… maybe you needed me even more than I needed you, and I couldn’t even see it. So I just want you to know: you were my best friend. And I’m really sorry I couldn’t pull you out of your head and that I couldn’t help, or didn’t try hard enough, or just that I wasn’t what you needed. And I…”

Anti sees Chase close his eyes and breathe.

“And I hope I’m not one more person you spend the rest of your life wishing you could have saved,” he whispers. “It’s not your fault, Henrik. I love you. Good night, buddy. Maybe someday – ”

The voicemail beeps. End of recording.

Chase lets out a hurting breath and sets his phone down. His eyes are fixed on the rising sunlit moon, past his window.

“Maybe someday I’ll see you again,” he says.

He goes into the bathroom and crawls into the tub.

And Anti – Anti is paralyzed in the hallway, staring at him, invisible.

But Chase can sense it. Chase can sense him. He looks back at him, his face – fuck, so familiar now, like Anti knows every line of it, every shadow – and says nothing.

Something in Anti cries out against it.

Don’t let him do this. Don’t let him do this.

But another part – oh, another part recognizes what has happened. It has grown attached to this human despite all odds, despite everything. And attachments are dangerous and stupid and useless, just like this little mortal curled up in his white bathtub, holding a razor, staring at it. This is Anti’s chance to let Chase break the attachment. This is its chance to stop this before it goes too far. Before it actually does decide that it likes Chase, that it wants him, that it should keep him, that he loves him in his own fucked-up way.

So it steps back.

It won’t stop Chase.

Let him go. Let him go. It’s better this way. He was just supposed to be entertainment. There was never supposed to be an attachment. So now Chase can die and Anti can leave and they can go their separate ways, and everything in Anti’s life will return to normal. It will go back to Ireland and find something new to do, someone new to torment. And everything will be okay.

It doesn’t stop Chase.

But Chase –

Chase –

“No,” he whispers to himself, gripping the blade. “Please.”

Chase can’t bring himself to do it.

“No!” he screams, lashing himself once, but it hurts and he hates it and he wants it to stop and it’s not like the other times he’s tried to kill himself, not at all. There’s no numbness. There’s no comfort.

He doesn’t want to die.

“Please!” he howls, gripping his own wrists. “Please!”

He’s begging himself. End it. Finish it. Stop it, let me go.

He’s begging the universe. No more. No more, please.

He’s begging Anti.

He’s begging Anti with everything he has.

He turns his eyes to it and he’s screaming, and there’s blood on his wrists, and the glowing moon is like the eye of a god staring down at them, and Anti is illuminated in its light, visible in the shape of a man, visible in a shape like Chase’s, and Chase is begging him –

“Don’t make me live like this any longer!”

Anti turns and flees.

Chase is howling like a shot dog, holding his own shoulders, unable to kill himself, because he doesn’t want to die, he doesn’t want to die, he doesn’t want Henrik to get that voicemail, he doesn’t want to never see the sun again, he doesn’t want to go, he isn’t ready, but he can’t live like this any longer, and he’s never felt more hopeless in his life, and he still doesn’t want to die, he doesn’t want to die, he doesn’t want to die.

Don’t make me live like this any longer.

Why can’t he end it?

He’s so drunk and so tired and he thought he wanted to die, he really thought he did. No, no, not… oh, he needs somebody, he needs something, he needs something to change. Henrik. He wants Henrik, wants Jackie, wants Marv. He’s staggering to his feet, trying to get up, trying to get back to his phone –

He slips in his Christmas socks and in his own blood, and he crashes down hard in his bathtub, and lies still.

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

“Oh, no, oh, fuck,” Anti hears him whimpering as he comes awake. “How much did I fucking have? Stupid, stupid…”

It stands in the hallway, pacing, its eyes set on the ground. It is determined now. It has decided.

“Oh, shit! Oh.” There’s a nervous laugh from Chase as he notices the shallow cut on his arm. “Oh, wow, I… I must have tried to… but I didn’t! I didn’t, wow…”

There’s an awe in his voice that hasn’t been there for a long time.

Is it… pride?

“I didn’t kill myself,” Anti hears him whispering. “I didn’t… didn’t kill myself. Or I just passed out before I could, but either way, pretty impressive for a fucking idiot like me.”

Anti retreats back to his room and begins to pack the human’s things up, taking only what’s immediately necessary. It doesn’t care about the personal effects, but there are some things they will need – some clothes, his hygiene products, shoes, medicine. He places the succulent gently on top and zips it into place as an added present.

It can hear Chase wandering around the house, apparently dazed by his own survival, or maybe just still drunk from the night before. Anti shuts his phone down remotely and doesn’t let it turn back on when Chase scrabbles at the power button, mumbling about his friends back in England. Anti doesn’t know where the sudden interest in them after months of deleting pictures and ignoring calls has come from, but it doesn’t care.

Here are the facts, in its mind:

Chase survived last night.

It has grown attached to him.

Because he did not kill himself, it can’t escape the fact that it’s grown… fond of the human.

The human survived one night, but Anti has watched him through a great deal of ups and downs, and it knows that Chase will be suicidal again soon enough, and then he might not survive.

Anti does not want to watch him die.

And so the conclusion it came to last night, watching over the boy as he lay in that tub, gently curling his hair between its fingers, was this –

Chase will be its, and Chase will not die.

It has a great satisfaction with this plan now, more than it thought possible. After months of boredom, finally, finally! Something that makes it excited again, something that makes it feel – well – happy!

Chase is still playing with his phone. Anti steps back into the hallway and sees him frowning down at it, pressing on the power button a few times in a row, looking unhappy.

“Did I call him, or…? Need to tell him I’m okay or he’ll – ahh!”

Chase screams aloud at the sight of Anti standing in the hallway with his backpack on. Anti frowns as he goes tumbling to the floor in his alarm, groaning from the whiplash in an already concussed head.

“You’re – you’re showing yourself to me?” gasps Chase, scrambling away. “What’s – are you going to kill me? What’s going on? Hey, stay away!”

But Anti is moving forward, a smile already on its face. This is perfect! This is perfect! It could howl! It could shout! The man is looking at it again, just like he did that night he tried to kill himself, the night that Anti saved his life, and there is the change in his eyes, the recognition, and Anti feels seen and known and in control all over again, and everything is good, everything is perfect.

“What are you doing?” demands Chase, his hands reaching out to protect himself. A fighter, yes, just like Anti always saw. Small and weak and mortal and foolish, yes, but also courageous, courageous, always something special about him. Anti always knew. It grabs Chase’s wrist and pulls him to his feet, humming to itself, singing the old lullaby it always used to haunt him with.

“No, stop, I hate that!” screams Chase, trying to cover his ears, trying to yank away from him. “Stop it, let me go!”

He’s such a pretty little human, even if he is built so scrawny. Anti likes his dark hair and his fire eyes and his soft stomach and even his stupid tattoos, just because they’re his and he’s so goofy, silly human creature. It’s all familiar to him now. The boredom that it thought it was feeling all this time it now sees was a secret fear of the truth that it was becoming attached to him. But last night woke it up to the realization that it did not want to see the boy die and it’s so pleased that he decided to live. In a way, the human was deciding to stay with it! Everything is good. It wrangles Chase’s other wrist and begins to drag him towards the door, unbothered by the sound of his shouting, which is little more than white noise to Anti after so long spent following Chase.

“No, no! Help me, someone help!” he cries.

Someone pounds on the walls of the apartment. A muffled “can you shut the fuck up for once in your life?” makes its way through the plaster. Chase sobs, tearing at Anti’s hands, his eyes wild and desperate. Anti keeps humming.

It will set him up somewhere just as good as this stupid little apartment. Better even. Bigger and less worn. And it will teach Chase to take better care of it too, so he doesn’t make such a mess like he always does. It will give him things he hasn’t even realized he wants yet. It will give him his little succulent back and he will take care of it. Humans need things to take care of or they get very sad and they die sometimes – that’s the thing about humans, they can get so sad they can die, and it’s no longer fun for Anti to watch, so it will get Chase things to take care of instead. What do humans like to take care of? Cows? Hamsters? Potatoes? Whatever he wants.

It takes Chase’s keys and drags him out to his car, opening the door and letting all of Chase’s trash litter onto the street. Its foot crunches on garbage as it pushes its human inside, chirping politely at him when he struggles and gently blocking him from escaping, keeping him pressed inside the car. When Chase tries to lunge forward past it, Anti shoves him against the glass and makes him yelp, clutching at its aching head. Whoops! It pulls back quickly and pats his cheek, checking the bruise and patting Chase’s head. It will take some time to learn the boundaries for touching the human, but it will learn. It keeps him carefully inside until the human has gone breathless and shaky and realizes he can’t get out right now. Satisfied, Anti gets into the car beside him and starts the engine.

Oh, no, wait. One more thing it wants to do.

Anti sets Chase’s apartment on fire, whistling its song to itself as it disables the alarms and leaves a few rags beginning to spread the fire from the oven to the counters. Fuck that landlord who yelled at him. Now the other humans will probably think he died in the fire or something and not come looking for him. Not that they could find him if they tried. Anti leaves the apartment smoking and gets back into the car, chirping and purring to itself, too excited to care that it’s acting like a youngling on its first Samhain.

The human stares at the road as they begin to move, shell-shocked and trembling. Eventually his eyes flicker over to Anti, and it can see that he isn’t sure if he should be angry or terrified or just numb to all of this, numb to everything.

Numb is what he settles on. Numb and a little weepy, anyway. Anti coos and reaches out to touch the human’s neck, rubbing warmly at his soft skin.

Chase curls in on himself, shirtless and shivering in the seat of his own car, kidnapped and alone, and he begins to cry very softly.

There’s blood on his arm. He’s tired. He’s hungover. He’s still struggling with the desire to die despite surviving the night before. He thinks he left Henrik a weird voicemail. The monster that’s been haunting him for years has just appeared in the flesh and thrown him out of his apartment. He doesn’t know what’s happening. He just wants everything to stop.

He just wants this to stop.

The monster repeats its cooing noise at his side, still petting at his neck and throat. Chase shudders and cries, rocking himself gently in the seat, wishing for his headphones. Anti turns on both the heat and the radio. A top-twenties station comes on and plays music familiar to Chase’s ears, and they drive, and they drive, and he begins to go quiet and still, sniffling to himself, hugging his shoulders. Feeling the monster petting him like an animal.

“Okay,” whispers a warbled voice when Chase has finally begun to calm down, and he looks up in shock to see the monster speaking, or trying to. He’d never known it to speak at all – only to watch him, and laugh, and whistle or hum, playing tricks on him or mimicking him in the corner of his vision. They’d never spoken.

“Okay,” it repeats, touching his hair. “Okay.”

Chase swallows and says nothing.

Anti pulls over after a couple hours of driving and hands Chase the backpack, helping him pull out the clothes and put shoes and a shirt on. It leads him inside a gas station and lets him use his bathroom and wash his face, staying beside him the whole time. Chase doesn’t try to protest or call for help. He does not know why.

Anti leads him carefully through the aisles of the gas station, a big truck stop station with rows and rows of snacks and toys and clothes and knick-knacks like phone charges for cars and California-themed snow-globes. It seems interested in everything, but in an amused way, like it’s laughing at everything, and Chase is supposed to be laughing with it.

He doesn’t know what to do. Anti’s arm is around his shoulder.

The monster buys something with Chase’s credit card while Chase shakes beneath his arm and tries to figure out what’s happening, though his brain seems to be shutting down from being so overwhelmed and he really just wants a drink. Anti pulls him back towards the car and this time, he clambers in without protest, sitting down in the passenger seat and buckling in.

Anti sits down beside him and offers him the bag from the gas station. Chase blinks and looks over, taking the bag numbly from its hands.

There are nuts for protein and three bottles of water. Chips and a breakfast sandwich and jerky and chocolate and a small, stuffed lion with the name “Lionel” in its ear.

Anti starts the car again. They drive.

“What are you?” asks Chase in a whisper.

The monster glances over at him and touches his face, stroking a finger down his cheek, down his beard, and, in that struggling, glitching, inhuman voice, it tells him:

“Anti. And you are mine. No more scares. No more slow dying. I look after you. Human. Chase. Mine.”

The monster who’s been haunting him for months wants to keep him as a pet.

The desert is rolling past Chase’s window. Lionel sits patiently on his lap. The radio plays something inane and catchy. Anti is touching his hand.

“Mine,” it says again. “Okay, Chase. It’s okay.”

Chase closes his eyes, and, leaning back against the headrest of the car, he lets himself drift into sleep.

[redhoodieone]

It’s Cold in Here Part 8

A/N: Heyyyy! Okay, so since I refuse to use the horrible homosexual offensive words, so I tried to use the less offensive ones, and I apologize firsthand if I offend anyone (I am not homophobic as I have a close gay cousin and a lesbian cousin as well) as it is not my intention to hurt, bully, or shame against anyone who is gay or bisexual because I adore and love everyone in the LGBTQ. And this part is the moment we’ve all been waiting for…the identity of our mysterious text messenger! The surprise evil villain might not surprise anyone, and I hope I didn’t disappoint anyone so if this part doesn’t get any positive notes, then I won’t continue this series. I mean, I tried my best with this, and the only way I’ll know if everyone wants to keep reading it is if they show me they’re interested in me to continue this series. So, the fate of this series is in your hands. Otherwise enjoy this part, and I apologize if I failed to impress you.

Warnings: Language and violence. Y/S/N = Your superhero name.

It’s not hard to lie. The only way to successfully lie is to believe it yourself. As expected, no one contacted me when the evening came. Dick had left after our strange cuddling-fest nap, and I still haven’t heard from Jason since last night, which is something I found myself appreciating more considering I wouldn’t even know what to say.

Because after everything that has happened in the past few days, I believe my mind is fractured from the constant thinking and obsessing.

As midnight approaches, I’m already dressed in my costume. The black fabric, leather, and armor pieces cover my entire body. A white bat is centered in my chest, and I put my two guns (with rubber bullets, of course since Bruce is anal about that) in my thigh holsters and strap a knife into my one of my boots. My bo staff is also secure on my back in an added part of my costume that Tim designed for me, after he trained me for several months and realized I had a special connection with it. I pull my hair back into a usual ponytail to keep my strands of hair from blocking my view. The last thing I need to do is slip on my domino mask, and I officially become y/s/n, and I’m on my way to Ace Chemicals.

Soaring through the skies and in the city becomes a quick blur to me, as I swing and jump with the help of my grapple gun. It’s almost twelve, and the only thing I can think about is who this person is.

Who the fuck are they?

What the fuck they want?

And what the fuck am I going to do afterwards?

My adrenaline is pumping through my veins, and I feel myself start to power up in a way I know my emotions will get the best of me. Bruce always taught us to keep our emotions in check during fights and missions, and with the way my mind is twisting and turning like wheels, I fear I’ll lose control.

I release my grapple hook and land flawlessly on the rooftop of Ace Chemicals. The air is filled with smoke from the factory, and I notice my surroundings are being compromised by the smoke, ocean fog, and darkness. I slowly walk around; with my hand constantly touching my thighs to easily grab my guns if I need them. It’s quiet; too quiet. I can only hear my heartbeat pounding hard and my uneasy breathing.

Someone landing behind me is what freezes my body.

“Hello Y/N.”

I whip around and aim my gun in front of me, after quickly pulling it out and switching the safety off.

They stand there as if I should have known all along, even though I didn’t even suspect someone like this.

Deathstroke.

His helmet frightens me with the way the copper side of his mask shines when a police blimp shines down on us; as the other side is dark, just like his soul. His costume is terrifying enough, as I can clearly see he has every weapon possible: guns, knives, and a sword?!

I’ve never fought Deathstroke before. I’ve only heard stories about him from the Batfamily, and the only vital information I have on him is he’s a serious asshole, who has tormented Dick a lot during his Teen Titans days. 

“Speechless? I’m hurt,” Deathstroke finally speaks in the deepest voice I’ve never heard before. He chuckles at me and begins to circle me; as I follow his gaze every second. “You know, I expected better from you. You have two guns, and a stick. Did you think you were meeting the Riddler or something?”

I’m too shocked to speak. Deathstroke picks up on it and finally stops walking. I stop as well.

“You must know a little about me since I’m the big bad guy who has always tried to kill the first Robin. I have a reputation of trying to kill young kids, but you know what? I think I’m going to branch out because why only focus on kids when I can kill anyone and get away with it?” he remarks.

“Why are you doing this? Why are you so fucking obsessed with taking down Nightwing?” I snap, as my voice finally gains strength to speak. “What’s in it for you?”

“You have such a pretty voice for a pathetic little girl who insists she belongs to the Batfamily. Why? You’re asking me why I’m doing this and the only answer I can give you is: because I can and I will. You must be stupid to think that I don’t know anything about Dick Grayson. I know he was the first Robin, and I know he’s Nightwing; just like I know you’re Y/N Y/LN. I make it my mission to know everything about who I kill. But look at you Y/N! You’re trying very hard to be a big girl now! I’m actually surprised you came here all alone and with obviously no big plan to take me down. Do you understand that I can kill you within five seconds with just my two hands?”

I glare at him as my arms weaken from holding my gun up at him. “Why not just kill me then? Isn’t that what you plan on doing anyways? Don’t you want to kill me just to get to Dick?” I taunt him.

“Now why would I do that right now when I can just dangle your lifeless body in front of him and everyone else? That psychotic clown in Gotham actually has a decent point: why end you physically when I can end you mentally as well? Not only will it scar your family and friends, but it will scar Dick as well,” Deathstroke answers seriously. “It would be far better than just outing him as well.”

“But why are you so obsessed with his sexuality? Are you just a sick homophobic fuck or are you just doing this because you have no other options to bring him down?” I demand.

Deathstroke pulls a knife from his costume and walks over to me. He holds it tightly in his hand, as he looks down at me.

“You really didn’t pay any attention, did you? I fucking hate the Batfamily. Believe me, woman. I have tried countless times to kill the Batman. Nightwing, Red Hood, Red Robin, and that new little shithead are incapable of dying because of the Bat’s influence. But now that I know Nightwing has a deep, dark secret, why not kill him over it? And why not destroy him mentally as well? How do you destroy a man, Y/N? Do you just kill him and leave it at that? No. No, if you really want to make a man fall, you take everything away from him until he has nothing. Take away a man’s love, pride, and reputation and what does he have? Nothing, just himself. He only has himself to pity. But since you’re playing a big part in his life, you’re going to help me expose him,” Deathstroke threatens.

“And what if I say no?” I challenge. I hold up my gun again.

The knife is now up against my neck; with the tip drawing a little blood. My gun remains under his jaw. “Then I’ll just do it my way, and trust me sweetheart, you won’t like that very much,” Deathstroke vows.

Breathing hard in anger, I realize it’s fight time. I kick him in the chest with everything I have; making him stumble back. I run to a hidden brick wall, as I hear him shouting nearby.

“You honestly think you can fight me? That’s funny, because the last girl I fought barely had time to scream because I ripped out her throat. I can remember her insides bleeding all over my hands. It was a pretty sight. I bet your insides are pretty like your voice. But there’s only one way to find out, right?” Deathstroke shouts.

I jump out and began firing at him. Deathstroke dodges and ducks from every rubber bullet I shoot at him. And just when I think I can’t shoot anymore; he begins running at me. I quickly get my bo staff and get into position to fight. Deathstroke pulls his sword out to fight me.

“You’re hopeless. Why are you even fighting for him when he clearly doesn’t want you anymore? It’s all an act, Y/N. He’s trying so hard to be someone he’s not, and all because he wants daddy to keep loving him. The poor bastard’s real parents are dead, and all he has is Batman. So, I can actually imagine the fears Dick must have. Would anyone want a fruitcake, pansy-ass boy for a son?! I wouldn’t be surprised if Batman threw him out because after all those years of making Dick be exactly like him, it would be as if he failed him. And nobody wants a failed son, right?!” Deathstroke yells.

“Dick is not a failure! If anyone is, it’s you because you have yet to kill him!” I shout back. I use the end of the bo staff to hit his shoulder which makes him pause mid-fight, as I take the advantage to kick him in his stomach. “You’re weaker than him. You’re a coward. A real assassin would have gotten the job done on the first day. You’re a joke, Deathstroke. Bane broke the Bat’s back. The Joker got to torture and kill one Robin and paralyze Batgirl. Ra’s al Ghul raised and trained the little shithead to hunt and kill people. And what have you done? All you’ve done is stalk, attempt to torture and kill superhero teenagers. Not much of an accomplishment unless you consider yourself a fan of Jason Voorhees.”

I manage to dodge most of his hits with my bo staff; following every technique I was taught by Tim. Deathstroke doesn’t slow down, and after he tries to stab me or knock the bo staff from my hands, he succeeds in cutting through my bo staff. As the two pieces fall to the ground, I stumble backwards to get away from him. He puts the sword away and retrieves the knife he put away earlier. Deathstroke shoves me up against the brick wall, and the knife is against my throat once again.

“Now, are you ready to listen or do I need to show you how serious I am about this? You think you can protect him, Y/N, but you can’t protect him forever now that I’m around. And if I must, I’ll just kill you off first since I hate bitches who won’t cooperate. I can kill you right now and-”

A gunshot is heard, and it echoes all around use. A bullet grazes Deathstroke’s arm; nearly missing me. We both look up, and Red Hood jumps down nearby. He aims his gun at Deathstroke. “Let her go, Deathstroke or I’ll personally put a bullet between your eyes with a smile!” Red Hood promises loudly.

Deathstroke chuckles. He removes himself from me but looks back at me one more time. Red Hood moves to where I am, but it appears Deathstroke doesn’t want to fight, and holds up a smoke bomb as he reaches to the edge.

“When you want to take things more seriously Y/N, I’ll be in touch. Until then, text you later.”

And with that, Deathstroke vanished.

Red Hood turns around and looks down at me. “Deathstroke is your mysterious text messenger? Were you planning on tell me or the Batfamily at all?” he asks harshly.

“I was told not to tell anyone,” I say defensively. I walk to the edge and aim my grapple gun up, but Red Hood pulls my arm down.

“And since when do you listen to the bad guys, Y/N?!”

“Since I’ve been hanging around you, Jason!” I snap angrily. Pulling myself away, I close my eyes and try to calm down. Yelling isn’t helping, and I barely realize I have fucked up so much within an hour. “I don’t have time for your lectures, Jason. I have shit to do and I need to make things right before something bad happens.”

Red Hood breathes hard, which sounds a little strange coming from his helmet, but I can tell Jason regrets his outburst. “I’m sorry…for yelling at you. You were in a difficult position, and I’m just relieved you’re okay. Deathstroke is a fucking asshole, and he could have hurt you…or…” he trails off quietly.

“I know, but he obviously didn’t kill me because he needs me around,” I say.

“I could have lost you…if I were here, I wouldn’t have allowed all of this to happen,” Red Hood continues.

“Look, all I know is…I’m sorry for lying and keeping secrets but I need to go home now because I need to figure out what to do. I obviously can’t ask anyone else for help because it’ll only make things worse and Deathstroke will do something more evil than what he already has planned. I need to be prepared,” I say seriously.

“Then let’s go, because you’re not going to do this alone anymore. But we will stop him, and we’ll help Dick and figure something out. I promise.” Jason says, as he jumps off the building with me as we fly into the dark sky where we hope we can find a way to stop Deathstroke.

Once and for all.

The fate of the series is in your hands now. Otherwise, I hope I impressed you if not I’m sorry to disappoint. I always figured Deathstroke would be the one to torment and try to kill Dick Grayson anyways. 

[peaceisadirtyword]

Invisible (Ivar/Reader)

A/N: Hello! I’m sorry for being so absent these days! Seriously uni is killing me, and to make things better, I’m sick😂 so I can barely study or write as I have a constant headache. But I wrote this a few days ago, hoping to post it for my birthday or for Vikings premiere, but I forgot so I'm posting it now... It’s just some idea I had a while ago when I was feeling a bit angsty and it’s probably very bad, but I’m posting it anyway... I want to do two or three more parts and include one of the requests I have for Ivar in my inbox! I hope you like it♥️

Btw I won’t post anything about the new episode until the weekend as I don’t want to spoil anything to anyone, but if someone has already watched it and want to talk about it send me a message! I'm dying to talk about it with someone! 

Again, sorry for being so inactive! I have some fics to read and I hope I can answer to your comments and your messages tonight!💕

Warnings: Angst (an attempt), Ivar is an asshole, there are a lot of insecurities for both of them and please don’t let anyone treat you like that in your life. Don’t be like me and the reader.

Words: 3510 I don’t know what’s happening to me these days

gif isn’t mine, it belongs to @bloody-imagines 

Kattegat had grown considerably during the years, the trade and the growth in population had enlarged the city. Though when you arrived it was already big, it had grown even more. 

There was a lot of people living in Kattegat, and you knew almost all of them.

You had been brought to Kattegat as a slave, after being sold by your father, who had gotten married after your mother's death and whose new wife seemed to have a problem with you living on her house. 

Queen Aslaug had bought you, after the slave trader told her you'd been cooking and cleaning for your father for years. She had put you in the kitchen to cook, and then as her personal slave, washing her clothes, making her bed and cleaning her room. She always treated you well, seeing you as the daughter she'd always wanted to have. 

Aslaug ended up freeing you, even offering you a small house near the Hall. Somehow, the queen and her family had grown fond of you, and even Floki, who had be the one who taught you the language and the viking culture, seemed to like you. 

Your relationship with the sons of the queen had been... Weird. At first, you were scared of them; you were just a little christian girl who had never set her eyes on a man, let alone a viking man. They were big, fierce and you had seen them training on the woods. Their hungry eyes had followed you the first days, while you served dinner or cleaned the hall. 

Ubbe had been the kindest to you, smiling softly at you and calling your name with a gentle voice, though his big eyes always roamed over your body whenever you approached him to fill his cup. Hvitserk hadn't been that subtle, biting his lip and reaching to caress your waist and your thighs while you served dinner, his eyes glued to your chest. 

Sigurd hadn't paid much attention to you until you had sat next to him on a feast, listening to him playing the oud. He had tried to kiss you after a while, kiss that you had awkwardly avoided, blushing and muttering something about Aslaug calling you. 

And Ivar... He seemed to hate you. The first time you saw the terrifying cripple of whom everyone had talked about since you arrived you thought he was the most handsome man you'd ever seen.

His piercing blue eyes had looked at you intensely, making you blush, and his brows had furrowed together while he waited for you to fill his empty cup. It had resulted in you spilling the mead all over him, which had enraged him. Fortunately, Ubbe had intervened before he could hurt you, but since then Ivar had been cruel with you.

When Aslaug freed you, he had argued, saying they needed the thralls and even offered to buy you himself to be his personal slave. The thought hadn't exactly bothered you, as you really liked him, but his cruel smile had hinted you that you would have had a bad time. 

He didn't like the fact that you were free and he wasn't able to torment you constantly. 

Anyway, and even if you considered yourself pathetic and stupid for it, you kept pining after him. It didn't matter how many times he tortured you, teased you or insulted you, your heart kept beating faster whenever you saw him, and something between your legs turned on when you saw him training with his brothers, working on the forge or even crawling around. 

"She's looking at you again" Ubbe smiled teasingly at his little brother, who scowled and kept sharpening his knife, sitting next to the beach and with his back leant onto a rock.

"She's annoying"

"She's hot" Hvitserk smirked softly while looking at you from afar. You were helping Helga to clean the fishes the boys and Floki had captured that morning, but your eyes wandered over Ivar sometimes, and Ubbe had caught you twice now. 

"She's really nice" Sigurd glared at his brothers "Ivar does not deserve her attention, Y/N deserves a man, a real viking who can satisfy her and make her happy, who does not torture her and who actually can walk" 

"Sigurd" Ubbe glared at him, and even Hvitserk pressed his lips together. 

Ivar clenched his jaw, but instead of stabbing his brother, he smirked.

"You're not talking about yourself, are you brother? Because I don't think you can satisfy her or make her happy considering the fact that she rejected you once" he chuckled "You can try and marry her, though, you'd do me a favor" 

"Enough, both of you" Ubbe scolded, sighing "I think Y/N is the only one who truly knows how her man should be"

"It's a waste that she only looks at Ivar" Hvitserk groaned "I would happily satisfy her"

"Use one of those tricks that you use with the thralls" Ivar scoffed "She was one of them, so it should work"

"Ivar" Ubbe shook his head "Stop being mean to her"

"I'm not" he replied "I just find her annoying and clingy, I'd love it if she found some other man and let me alone"

"She's the only woman who has ever shown interest in you" Sigurd chuckled "And if you keep being a prick to her, she will be the last"

"I don't want her, she's a christian that thinks that she can now worship our gods and behave like one of us. She's not a viking, she's weak and cannot fight, and she's too small"

"What's wrong with her being small, Ivar?" Hvitserk shrugged "Small or big, she's a woman, her size does not matter when she's under you, with her legs around your waist and moaning as you pound into her" he smirked and Ubbe chuckled, agreeing with his brother "And I could teach her how to fight, you know" he winked at an annoyed Ivar, who blushed when his brother mentioned the sex part. 

"I want a viking woman" he repeated "Not her"

"She's coming" Ubbe cleared his throat "Not a word, Ivar"

Helga and you approached the brothers, with a stewpot and some bowls.

"The food is ready" Helga smiled while you left the stewpot on the floor and started filling the bowls before passing them to the boys. Ubbe and Sigurd smiled and thanked you, Hvitserk practically had no time for doing that as he shoved the soup down his throat immediately, and Ivar took the bowl from your hands without even looking at you. While Helga went to give Floki, who was working on a boat, his bowl, you sat down next to Hvitserk who was devouring the soup, smiling at him.

"Do you like it?" You raised a brow and Hvitserk moaned.

"It's amazing" he nodded "Did you make it?"

You nodded, proud of yourself. You had spent almost the entire morning making the soup, knowing that the boys had been training and fishing and would be hungry. 

"It's really good, Y/N" Ubbe smiled at you "Thanks"

"You're welcome, I'm glad you..." A sudden noise startled you. Ivar had let the bowl fall on the floor, spilling his content with a disgusted scowl present on his face "Like it" you finished your sentence in a whisper, knowing that he was about to say something hurtful.

"It's the most disgusting thing I've ever eaten" he spat, his eyes sending daggers to you "If you don't know how to cook, then don't do it" you looked away, ashamed and angry at the same time. 

"Ivar" Ubbe looked at his brother "What...?"

"If you don't want it, give it to Hvitserk" Sigurd glared at him "But Y/N has spent a good time making this for us, and you should appreciate it"

"I didn't ask her to do it" he shrugged "And if she doesn't know how to make a simple soup, it's not my fault... Now I understand why mother freed her" 

You looked at you feet, trying not to cry. It had been an amazing morning. You'd found some flowers at your door that morning, which had made you the happiest person in Kattegat. You had been happy thinking that they could be Ivar's, but his behavior in that moment made it very clear; it definitely hadn't been him.

"Shut up" Ubbe was now angry, one thing was that his brother didn't like you, he could understand that, but humiliating and insulting you was another "You're acting as a spoiled little brat"

"That's what he is" Sigurd shrugged "It's what you become when you've always been mommy's boy"

Ivar gripped his knife, and you looked at him with wide eyes, afraid he'd hurt one of his brothers.

"It's okay" you quickly got up, clearing your throat "Helga is cooking the fish now... Maybe you'll like it more, Ivar" you tried to smile at him, but his annoyed glare mad your smile fade away "I'll tell her to add a few more pieces, so you won't be hungry" you muttered while picking up the empty bowl and walking over Floki's house, trying to swallow your tears. 

Helga turned around when she heard you entering the house, but her gentle face furrowed with worry when she saw you trying to dry your tears with your hands. 

"Y/N, my dear, what happened?" She hugged you tightly. After her daughter's death, she'd been desperate to have another child, and she immediately felt that motherly feeling towards you, and loved you deeply. 

"It's just..." You shook your head, feeling stupid "Nothing, it's just that I cannot do anything well" 

"What?" She frowned "Of course you can! You do a lot of things well, love, for example, this soup, I think Hvitserk will ask for your hand in marriage after he's done with it" she smiled. 

"Ivar didn't like it" you muttered, shrugging. 

"That's weird, I always cooked this soup for him and he loved it" she shook her head.

"I must have done something wrong"

"No, you didn't" she smiled at you, caressing your cheek "He's just in a mood, probably... Do you want to take the rest of the food to them or you prefer staying here?"

You bit your lip.

"I think I'm going to go home" you muttered "I haven't slept very well..."

"But you haven't eaten anything!" Helga replied, the concern making her frown again.

"I'll eat something at home" you smiled, trying to reassure her "See you tomorrow, Helga... Oh, give my plate to Ivar" you bit your lip "He must be hungry" you kissed her cheek before going out of the house, using the back door to avoid the brothers. 

Ivar could see Helga was angry at him. He supposed it was because of the way he had talked to you. Gods, it was annoying how much she seemed to care about you. You weren't a viking, just a simple thrall that had been abandoned by her own family. 

"Where is Y/N?" Ubbe asked when Helga brought them the cooked fish they had gotten that morning.

"She went home, she wasn't feeling well" Helga glared at Ivar, who rolled his eyes but frowned a bit, feeling a bit guilty "Anyway, she asked me to give you her food, Ivar, as you didn't eat the soup" she gave him a plate with more food. That made him blush and take the plate. He heard Sigurd scoffing and saw Ubbe smirking. Hvitserk, on the other hand, was looking at his plate with a pout.

"You deserve it, brother" it was annoying how Ubbe seemed to know everything "Now think about how you're going to apologize to her while you eat her food"

You stood on your small house, completely naked and looking down at your body with a frown. There had to be something wrong with you. 

Maybe it was because you didn't have those long and strong legs that all the viking women had, or maybe it was your belly, which wasn't as flat as you'd like it to be, maybe you had small breasts. Or maybe it was your incapacity to fight, or to be bold and fight as the viking women. 

The thing was; no man had ever shown interest on you. Well, Hvitserk had tried to get you into his bed several times, and Ubbe had too. Sigurd tried to kiss you once, but given the reputation of the three brothers with women, every single female present in Kattegat had been in that position at least once on their lives. 

But no one had ever actually liked you, you guessed, as no one had ever talked to you in that way. 

It was true that you were too in love with Ivar to even look at other men, but as he seemed to hate you, you probably should forget about him...

Then you realized. You were crying over someone who was cruel to you. Well, to you and to half of the population in Kattegat, but especially to you. You only had showed him kindness and love, forgiving his outbursts and always tried to please him, make him feel comfortable. And he only screamed at you and made you feel bad. 

You breathed deeply, frowning. You had to put an end to it. You were only hurting yourself while pining after him, and he clearly wasn't interested. 

No, Ivar wasn't the right man for you. 

Of all the things you loved about Kattegat, the feasts were your favorite. You loved the music, the large amounts of food, the dancing, the people laughing and having fun... You always felt more relaxed and enjoyed those evenings.

That day was no different. You dressed up in a beautiful red dress and left your hair loose, only braiding some locks. You felt better that day. You had received another flower at your door that morning, but that wasn't the main reason of your happiness, as you had began to think it was some type of joke. You were happy because you had spent days ignoring Ivar. You had avoided him a little bit, but you were proud to say that you didn't even look at his direction whenever he was present.

It was a start, and you were already feeling more confident and relaxed. 

The feast didn't disappoint. You ate sitting next to Hvitserk and Ubbe, who spent the whole dinner laughing about how Sigurd had tripped over himself while training and had fallen right onto his butt. The story wasn't that funny, but the way they cried in laughter while telling you made you laugh with them, happy to be able to share their joy. 

You didn't pay any attention to Ivar, who was eyeing you, annoyed. He had been waiting for your to look at him and smile lovingly, offering him some more food or mead. 

He missed it.

Yeah, at first he found you annoying, how you would be all day looking at him and longing for his attention. He couldn't understand why a beautiful girl like you would be interested in him, the cripple. 

He had looked at you, of course he had. Every single man in Kattegat who wasn't blind had. 

But you were too much for him, and that angered him. If he had been a true viking, like his brothers, he would have claimed you. But he was a cripple, and you deserved something better. 

For him, that was reason enough to be rude to you. Maybe then you'd forget about him. 

But a part of him didn't want you to forget. 

Ivar frowned, watching as you almost choked on your food after Hvitserk said some stupid thing that made you laugh. Surely you had finally realized that his brothers were a better option than him.

Next to him, Aslaug talked about how he should stop training so hard, saying that he'd end up hurt. 

"Ivar" she sighed when she realized he wasn't listening "What's wrong? You look bothered"

Her son looked at her, faking a smile and putting his hand over hers. 

"I'm okay, mother"

Aslaug looked at you. She had noticed the change on your behavior with Ivar. She actually understood, knowing how it felt to be ignored, humiliated and hurt by a man. 

"If you were nicer to her, she wouldn't ignore you" Aslaug took her cup, sipping on her drink while Ivar scoffed.

"I don't care"

Aslaug raised an eyebrow at his words, but didn't say anything, not wanting to upset him. 

Everyone was already drunk. Even you were a bit tipsy, giggling at everything and blushed. You had moved to be closer to Sigurd, who was playing some music while a group of people gathered around him sang and danced happily. You were standing up, your back leaned onto the wall and a cup on your hands. A smile on your lips. 

Ivar looked at you intensely. You looked pretty smiling, more than you did when you frowned or winced at his cruel words. 

Again, you deserved someone who would make you smile like that.

That angered him, again, and he cursed himself for not being good enough. He never was good enough. Maybe that's why he was so angry at you, because you reminded that to him every time you smiled softly at him and ignored his remarks. 

He throw his cup to the floor, clenching his jaw with rage. A part of him would like to go and apologize to you, to tell you that he didn't mean any of those things he always said to you. But he was too proud, and if you laughed at him he wasn't sure of how he would react. 

He stayed there, sat on his chair, his lips pressed together and his hands gripping the edge of the table so hard that he would have probably broken it if Ubbe hasn't made him remove his hand. 

His brother followed his gaze, smiling softly when he realized he was looking at you. Of course he was looking at you.

You, oblivious to what Ivar was thinking, kept listening to Sigurd, smiling softly. Until someone stopped in front of you. He was a handsome man, with blonde hair and blue eyes, and he was smiling at you.

"Hello" he tilted his head. Gods he was very handsome "You must be Y/N, right?"

You blushed, not knowing how to react. It was the first time a man approached you in that way.

"Yeah, I... Am Y/N" you cleared your throat, smiling nervously.

"It's a pleasure to meet you" he had a deep voice, and his tone was soft and gentle "My name is Einar, I just arrived to Kattegat a few weeks ago and I couldn't help but to notice you"  

"Me?" You almost choked.

"Yeah, I have to say, you're one of the most beautiful women I've ever seen"

You blushed, widening your eyes and making him chuckle. 

"Well... Thank you, I suppose" you looked away, too ashamed to look at him in the eye.

"Don't thank me, I'm just saying the truth" he shrugged, taking a sip of his drink. 

You smiled softly, biting your lip. You felt a warmth inside you and you actually felt good. It was just like his comment had made you feel more confident with yourself. 

"I see you like music" he looked at Sigurd, who kept playing the oud with a bright smile on his lips.

"Sigurd is really good" you nodded.

"I heard you're close to his family"

"I am" you smiled at him "I came here as a slave for queen Aslaug, but she freed me and gave me a place to live, her sons have been very nice to me... Well, almost all of them"

"I can't imagine how someone could not be nice to you" his blue eyes which reminded you of Ivar's but less intense and softer, were fixed in yours "He must be a fool"

"Ivar is... Complicated" you sighed "But don't let him hear that"

"Would you like to get out of here? We can go somewhere more... Quiet" 

You bit your lip, and your eyes scanned the large hall searching for Ivar's. When you finally spotted him, you were surprised to find that he was looking at you, well... Glaring at you. You were tempted to look away and lower your head, as you always did when he glared at you like that. But this time you didn't. You refused to give him power to hurt you again. 

He didn't want you, he had made it very clear, you'd dare to say that he despised you, so what were you going to do? Stay there and keep feeling bad about yourself because of his indifference or go away with a man that clearly had some interest in you and who was being much nicer? 

You looked at Einar again, managing to compose a charming smile before nodding and taking his hand.

"Let's go" 

Tags: @mblaqgi @alicedopey @lol-haha-joke @hallowed-heathen @ivarslittlebadgirl @naaladareia @tephi101 @captstefanbrandt @love-hate-love @titty-teetee @thisisparadisemylove @readsalot73 @moondustmemories @thevikingsheaux @therealcalicali @chimera4plums @blushingskywalker @awkwardfangirl02 

I hope you liked it!💜 thanks for reading!

[artificialqueens]

(I Can Still Recall) Our Last Summer - Chapter Six (Group Fic) - pureCAMP

A/N - so here we go! as u might remember, a phrase coined from mean queens several aeons ago…. welcome to the fuckening. from here on out, it will be disastrous because thats just how we do things these days

im going on holiday for a week now so here’s ur update!! will be back soon with more and potentially some shillam and shalaska <3

“Mommy! Mommy, look!”

The little girl, her hair in messy pigtails around her face, was playing with her younger brother. She couldn’t have been any more than five years old. Sharon smiled, nodding intently to show her daughter that she was paying attention. It was one of those lazy summer days, most of which had been spent lying on a towel, watching her beautiful children play as she soaked up the sun. Next to her, Justin was watching too, his gaze filled with adoration.

“We’re so lucky,” Justin breathed, his voice low. His hands ghosted over Sharon’s sun-warmed skin, a tender display of affection.

The little girl attempted a somersault, and they both clapped. When she righted herself, she was beaming.

“Yeah. We are.” She agreed, burying her face in his shoulder. She allowed herself a moment of clarity, to just take in his scent as he watched the kids. Everything was perfect.

The warm sensation soon faded, and as Sharon lifted her head, she was filled with an icy shock. Her face was no longer buried in Justin’s shoulders. He wasn’t anywhere to be seen. He was no longer watching the kids, and they were screaming - crying out desperately as an unseen force dragged them into the sea. Their tiny fingers left lines in the sand as they tried to anchor themselves to the shore.

Soon she found herself running, ignoring how the beach had transitioned from idyllic and peaceful to grey and violent. The wind whipped at her as she tried to run at her children, biting at her skin and forcing her back. The last she saw of her children, their screams were being swallowed by the monstrous waves that were cannibalizing the beach.

Sharon sat bolt upright, panting. She was covered in a sheen of cold sweat, having awoken in a sheer panic from her nightmare.

They had been happening for five nights in a row now, and she didn’t know what to make of them.

It wasn’t always children. Sometimes she was on stage, performing as usual, and one energetic jump would lead to the stage collapsing, and she would fall into an abyss, screaming. Other times, she was arguing with her mother, who would then pull out a knife and carve a grisly crucifixion onto her stomach. Whatever the dream, it was always harrowing, and she awoke the same way - in the peak of her terror, sweating and shaking.

She leant back, breathing heavily as she tried to relax. If this dream was textbook - following the pattern of all her others - then soon enough, she would be suffering with the more physical effects of her tormented mind.

Sure enough, like clockwork, the nausea within her rose quickly. It was a race against time, and Sharon was briefly grateful to be in the house she hated so much, as the bathroom was just a few feet from her bedroom door. Thankfully, she made it in good time, and ended up crouched over the toilet bowl, retching and spewing what little she had consumed.

Sharon had done everything she could think of to find the root of her weird dreams and sickness. Cutting out alcohol had been the first and most obvious one, but it seemed that a string of terrible hangovers hadn’t been causing her morning misery. She tried to eat better and move more, but nothing helped. After that, she’d been pretty stumped for causes.

The whole ordeal usually lasted about an hour, although she spent at least half of the day feeling sick and wobbly. She assumed, grimly, that that would be the case for as long as the illness lasted. In the meantime, she wasn’t going to let that stop her. With not so long left until her friends headed off into Europe to pursue their further education, Sharon wanted to spend every moment of her time with Jinkx and Raja.

Once she was sure that everything she had eaten had come back up, she cleaned herself up and got dressed, leaving as quickly as she could. There was a narrow window of time during which her mother would be out, pottering to do errands for the church, so she needed to take it to avoid a confrontation. It was the safest option to just avoid her as much as possible.

The state of her family life was depressing. Sharon closed the front door behind her and tried not to think about it.

-

Before heading to Raja’s, Sharon made a quick trip to the store near her house. It was her go-to - maybe because she could buy anything she wanted without fear of it being traced back to her mother. Despite Jinkx always claiming she was paranoid, Sharon knew her mother had eyes everywhere. Once, she had attempted to buy a magazine that had been deemed ‘inappropriate’ by her mother’s standards, and three different people had reported back to her mother. She knew most of them through church, and there was no shortage of religious fanatics working in and around the local shops. Sharon much preferred the safety of the shops near Raja, where no one she knew would frequent.

Her goodbye gifts already picked out, Sharon decided to just wander a little, mostly searching for the cider Raja had been begging her to get and hoping her nausea would calm down. She was just reaching for the third can when somebody bumped into her.

“Ooh, sorry!” A soft voice said. Sharon looked up, making eye contact with a gentle-looking woman. She was blushing with embarrassment, and gesturing apologetically towards her swollen stomach.

“I’m still figuring out how to manoeuver myself with this one! Sorry, sweetheart.” The woman continued. She patted Sharon’s shoulder before continuing on her way, the mishap already forgotten in her mind.

In complete contrast to the kindly woman, Sharon felt as though a cold fist had squeezed her heart into a vice grip. It was as if sense had slapped her straight in the face, and she was reeling from the sting of the revelation.

Feeling sicker than ever, she tossed the drinks into her bag and walked to the opposite corner of the store. A burning shame permeated her whole body as she scanned the aisle, overwhelmed with choice. It made her beyond angry that her supposed faith, something she didn’t believe in and never would, could still condition her to feel so disgusting.

The innocent white boxes lined the aisle from top to bottom, wall to wall. Some of them had smiling babies on, with big blue eyes and no teeth. Some had large, rounded bumps, as though the idiot models really needed that purchase just to make sure. Some of them were just plain and simple. Some of them showed couples embracing together, their loving expressions mocking her. We’re married, financially-stable adults planning a family. You’re a slut.

She snatched the closest one from the shelf and left, her cheeks flaming.

The cashier, of course, said nothing. He had no reason to care about the anxieties of a seventeen year old, despite Sharon’s worry that everyone was judging her. He didn’t even blink when she snatched up the offending box and buried it underneath the rest of her purchases, trying to pretend it wasn’t there.

At Raja’s house, it was all she could think about. The three cans of cider - which were, admittedly, amazing - had been poured into glasses, but she felt too nauseous to have much more than a sip of her own. It took all that she had to try and look normal, to mask the sickness and the anxiety that wrestled in the pit of her potentially-pregnant stomach. 

It was terrifying.

Whenever she spaced out, becoming entrapped in her own thoughts, she laughed herself out of it, pretending to Raja and Jinkx that she was just feeling a little dreamy.

“It’s probably sex-withdrawal.” Raja laughed. “I get all spacey when I haven’t fucked in too long. It’s been forever since we ran into asshole Justin for the first time. You haven’t been fucked in at least a month. It’s so bad when you get the bug for it. Go and find a man, it’ll drive you crazy if you don’t.”

Jinkx clinked their glasses together, clearly in agreement. “Or I’ll do it. Girls know what girls like.”

Sharon forced out a laugh. “Ha, maybe. I’m just gonna use the bathroom, I’ll be right back.”

Her mind was fixated on that evil box, still sitting at the bottom of her bag. If she didn’t do it now, she would never have the courage to find out. Her bubbling apprehension wouldn’t be able to stay simmering long enough to play the waiting game. She had to find out, if only to put her mind at rest.

She practically tore through the box, gulping as the little stick fell into her hands. It was a clean slate, waiting to predict her future. Reading the instructions on how to make the plastic fortune-teller work, she sat and wished the damn thing would just stay blank. She needed to know, but knew she couldn’t face it.

“If sufficient levels of HCG are present then…” Sharon mumbled under her breath, reading the label. She almost tossed it onto the floor when she reached the end.

How obnoxious. If she was pregnant, two lines would appear, and the little smiley face already at the end of the stick would smile at her, reflecting the happiness that all new mothers should feel. To most people who bought it, it was a sweet memory to look back on. To Sharon, it would be a garish joker, taunting her of her stupidity.

In order to avoid arousing suspicion, she activated the test and then shoved it deep into her pocket. As a decoy, she flushed the toilet, washed her hands and headed out, making a show of looking calm and casual. Her cider glass was empty, and the mischievous grins of her friends told her exactly where the drink had gone.

“You snooze, you lose.” Jinkx told her triumphantly. “Sorry. Did you buy any more?”

“No. I didn’t buy anything else.” Sharon said, a little too quickly. “It’s okay, anyway. You guys like it more than I do.”

Any conversation she tried to make was pointless, and every fibre of her being just wanted to burst into tears. It would be a while until she saw Raja and Jinkx again, after they’d left, and she didn’t want them to remember her as depressed and dull, a shell of the lively girl they knew her as. That was how she’d been ever since Justin left, even with her distractions on the side, but now it was worse than ever. The worry was killing her.

All she needed was to see one line, and the smiley face would look kindly, reminding her that even though her luck was terrible, somebody up there was on her side. Surely, someone up there had seen how her heart had been broken three times by lovers, about to be broken a fourth by her friends, and would cut her some slack. There was no way she was that unlucky.

Whilst Raja and Jinkx started discussing their plans for the future, Sharon held her breath and started to count.

“I wonder how many hot French boys there’ll be in Paris.”

One, two, three, four, five, six… What happens if there’s a positive? What if it’s a false?

“Apparently the place is like, rife with lesbians. There’s an infestation. Sounds like my kinda place.”

Thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen, seventeen, eighteen… Could I really be pregnant?

“My dad paid for the nicest accommodation ever, I’m so excited. You two have to visit me there!”

Twenty eight, twenty nine, thirty, thirty one, thirty two, thirty three… How will I pay for a baby? I’ll need to get a job and find somewhere to live…

“My halls have this huge auditorium! We could put on a concert there!”

Forty two, forty three, forty four, forty five, forty six, forty seven… Would I be a good mom? What do you even do?

“I’m gonna miss you so much, Sharon. You gotta come and visit.”

Fifty five.

“Yeah! Same here. I wish you could come too.”

Fifty six. I’ll be fine. It’s gonna be fine.

“I can’t believe our last show is next weekend. It’s all happening so fast.”

Fifty seven. Fuck, it’s not going fast enough.

“This summer has been the best one ever. I’ll never forget it.”

Fifty eight. This has been the longest minute of my life.

“Me neither. I feel like everything has changed this summer. It’s completely unforgettable.”

Fifty nine. Oh god, I can’t look.

“God, I love you girls so much.”

Sixty.

She looked.

“Are you crying?”

Sharon wiped her eyes with her sleeve, chuckling weakly. “Oh, ignore me, seventeen and crying over my friends. I’m just thinking about how much I’m gonna miss us! I’m nothing without you two, my best friends.”

Raja softened. “Aww, sweetheart! You’re a strong, fiercely independent woman, whether we’re here or not. I’m gonna miss you every day!”

“I think we need a hug, no more tears.” Jinkx insisted. “Hugs fix everything.”

Sharon laughed once again, sniffing as she buried herself into her friend’s embrace. Hugs fix everything, except for when you have an unfixable problem growing inside you. 

Two little lines stared back at her.

Justin had cheated; Jaremi had run away; Willam had gone home. Her two best friends - her only friends - were leaving: Raja for Paris and Jinkx for Amsterdam.

And Sharon was pregnant.

-

It wasn’t going away. Normally, if she tried hard enough, she could simply ignore the problem and it would go away. It would disappear and float away into the ether, and she would wonder why she had ever worried about something so obsolete.

It wasn’t working this time.

For one, it never left her mind. Her dreams were cursed with visions of shrieking babies and boyfriends who would flit in and out, breaking up with her in various ways. During the day, her mind was haunted in the same way - the vision of that positive swirling in the back of all of her thoughts. She had an aversion to the fish in the marketplace and thought, absentmindedly, it was probably to do with that. She saw babies being carried by their sweet, caring mothers and wondered if she really had it in her to be a mom, or whether she had to take some kind of action to end it.

Secondly, her sickness only worsened. In order to avoid her mother noticing, she had been leaving the house early; she rose before five just so she could go out and be sick somewhere else. The nausea didn’t seem to want to leave her, either. It hung around all day, jolting her stomach at the slightest scent it didn’t agree with. Two nights ago, at the taverna, the heady scent of beer had set her off, leading to Raja and Jinkx performing without her as she retched in the dressing room toilet. All she had to do was say she had a bug, and they left it at that. Even when she seemed fine, they didn’t ask. Sharon was glad for that. When she flat-out refused to perform the next night, they shrugged and assumed she was still wobbly.

And last - but worst of all - it wasn’t physically going away. The damned thing was slowly becoming more visible, and she had begun to notice it.

The final Supermodels show had come upon them, and Sharon decided she couldn’t miss it for the world. It was a Saturday; in just four short days, her friends would be jetting off to begin the next chapter of their lives, leaving her to figure out how she would handle the next chapter of her own. Despite her anxiety and nausea, Sharon was resolute. She was going to do the show.

A full length mirror stood before her. They had decided, for their grand ‘going away’ performance, they would break out the showy little number they reserved for special occasions. Each of them had a specific colour dress - Sharon in blue, Raja in orange and Jinkx in green - which reached about mid-thigh and clung tight. There was a zip at the back and sequins bedazzling the entire outfit. It was beautiful.

It was also too small.

Sharon had always been slim. Growing up with her strict mother, who was always the type to belittle her for eating too much, she had been spindly and wiry for most of her childhood. As she’d gotten older, she’d grown a little curvier - not as curvy as Jinkx, but not as skinny as Raja. Either way, she had always been a slim girl. But now she was changing, and rapidly.

“Damn, girl! You could take somebody’s eyes out with those!” Jinkx had joked earlier that evening, gesturing at Sharon’s chest. That was worrying enough, but it only increased when she tried the fucking dress on.

It would not zip. The tiny zip went over her thighs, just towards her hips, and then stopped. No amount of force could tug it upwards, no matter how hard she tried. The little tell-tale tummy she’d acquired was making sure of that. Against her better judgement, she tried to suck it in, but to no avail. The curve of her tummy remained, the zip stayed stuck.

Examining herself in the mirror, Sharon frowned. Her chest felt tight. Her own body felt alien, as though it didn’t belong to her. Instead it belonged to that thing, the thing taking up residence inside her.

Sharon mustered as much courage as she could simply to open her mouth. It took a few seconds for the words to follow.

“Hey I… I don’t think I’m gonna do the show tonight. You girls go ahead without me.”

It was pathetic, how shaky and unsure she sounded. Raja and Jinkx’s fluid conversation about whether they should ever switch up the colour scheme silenced immediately, and Sharon cursed herself. It was the last show the girls might ever get to do in their current states, their final goodbye to this part of their lives. They couldn’t just do it without her.

Jinkx sounded hurt. “We’re a trio! We can’t be The Supermodels if we’re a duo!”

“Just do it!” Sharon snapped, her voice shrill. Reality was falling onto her shoulders, crushing her beneath its weight, and the fear of change had encapsulated her heart. If they carried on asking questions, she would have to tell them, and if she had to tell them then she had to acknowledge that it was happening, and she really really really was not ready to acknowledge what was happening.

At her tone, Raja’s voice softened. “Still not feeling good, darling?” She asked. She sounded almost motherly, tinged with the care and love Sharon knew she wouldn’t get from her own mother. “It’ll pass, I promise.”

Sharon sighed. “Yeah. B-But it’s not just that.”

“What else is stopping you?” She pressed, gently.

All at once, everything that was stopping her seemed to form an avalanche of emotion, crushing her chest and squeezing her ribcage until she could do nothing but break. Tears began brimming in Sharon’s eyes, slowly enough that it gave Jinkx and Raja time to edge forwards until they were just behind her screen.

“My… my dress. It doesn’t… fit, anymore.” Sharon sniffed, trying to hold back the steadily increasing stream of her tears with little success. Every fibre of her being didn’t want to tell them, didn’t want to have to acknowledge it, but there was no avoiding it now.

Sharon covered her face as they joined her, all three staring into the same mirror. Her vision was blurred from the tears, and she felt Raja’s hand on her exposed back, where the dress should’ve been zipped. Each of them just stared, not sure what to say, not wanting to assume the obvious.

“Take it off, sweetie,” Jinkx instructed softly, moving to assist Raja in unzipping the dress and letting Sharon step out of it. “That’s it, you’re okay.”

In just her underwear, Sharon felt more exposed than ever. There was no hiding her secret from her friends anymore, no convenient bags or flowy shirts to obscure it from sight. The tears slowed a little, allowing her a shaky view of herself in the mirror. Jinkx and Raja clung to her as if trying to keep her in one piece, seeming to sense how close she was to collapsing.

“Fucking Justin.” Raja cursed, quietly. “He did this to you.”

Sharon pushed down the doubts in her mind, the subtle suggestion that maybe this wasn’t him. She knew it was likely, but she knew there were two other candidates who she could never mention.

“I know,” She breathed. “I don’t know what to do.”

Jinkx bit her lip. “You can either keep it or… not.”

“I’m not ready to make that choice.”

“You shouldn’t have to be.” Raja butted in, her tone fierce and her eyes flaming. “He should’ve been more careful, he shouldn’t have let this fucking happen to you!”

“It takes two, Raj!” Sharon found herself almost shouting. “It wasn’t just him! This isn’t his fault.”

In a moment of confusing, blind anger, Sharon stormed away from her friends to gather her regular clothes, tired of feeling vulnerable and naked. The tension in the dressing room had quickly become thick enough to cut, as it became clear that neither of the three girls knew how to react to the situation they were confronted with.

“Why are you defending him? You should be furious. This is huge.” Raja changed her tone, suddenly solemn and serious.

Sharon sighed. “Don’t you see? I have nothing to be furious at. Justin’s gone, he doesn’t know anything about this. I can’t get mad at him for something he knows nothing about.” She paused. “And… I don’t know. It doesn’t seem fair to get mad at…”

Her throat closed up. Jinkx, her eyes welling up with tears, rushed over and nearly toppled her with the force of her bear hug.

“The baby.” She supplied, tearfully saying what Sharon didn’t seem to be able to do. “You can’t be furious at a baby.”

Immediately after, the mood of the room seemed to shift. Everything was out in the open now. Jinkx had delivered the bomb they were all waiting for, and now they had to discuss the fallout.

“The baby,” Raja repeated, seemingly awestruck. “Oh my god, there’s a baby.” 

Sharon wrapped her arms around her stomach, as if to hide it. “There’s a baby.”

She told them as much as she could bear; the nights with Justin, the bouts of sickness and the strange dreams, how she had taken the test in Raja’s house and kept up the smiles as her world crashed down at her feet. Now that she was confessing it all to her friends, she felt bad for being so secretive. Part of her knew she should tell them about the other potential fathers, but for the sake of her own dignity she decided against it. They, of course, would never shame her, but she saw no sense in naming the two men that her friends would never meet. It was best not to overcomplicate things. After all, it was difficult enough with a baby.

“It’s okay, though,” Raja was saying, back to business as usual. “I’ll book you in with my doctor, darling, she’s fantastic. She does confidentiality like it’s nobody’s business, literally. Never told a soul when I had that STI test. Which, by the way, was negative because I’m clean.”

Her intelligent, abrupt nature was already doing wonders for Sharon’s peace of mind. Raja was always good at sorting through the bullshit - sometimes lacking in tact, but with a kind heart determined to fix each and every problem she encountered. 

“I can’t afford your doctor, Raj.” Sharon told her. “I don’t have any money of my own. And there’s no way my mom can pay without asking what it’s for and then finding out.”

Raja rolled her eyes. “Oh my god, Needles. I’m paying for the doctor, shut up.”

“You don’t ha-”

“Bitch, I said shut up. I’m paying for it. It’s not an offer or an obligation, I’m just doing it.”

She blew a kiss and stepped out of the dressing room as Sharon giggled weakly. Jinkx kissed her temple.

“Whatever decision you make, we’re with you the whole way.” She promised. “And we would be great aunties.”

Sharon nodded. “I don’t know what I’ll choose yet. Maybe I should just… give the thing up for adoption. I’d be a terrible mother. I don’t exactly have the best role model.”

Jinkx scoffed. “Be your own role model.” She shrugged. “If you decide to keep the baby, who’s to say you’d be a bad mom? I think you’d be amazing. It’s about love, not being perfect. And I know you have a lot of love in you.”

In some ways, Sharon appreciated Jinkx’s gentle, caring instincts more than her sly sense of humour. It was a relief to have a friend that she could laugh with and cry with, who would hold her tightly and work through her emotions until she could stand on her own two feet again. She had a feeling that, depending on the choice she made, their support would be all that she had to keep herself going.

Raja reappeared. “I cancelled the show. Let’s get you out of here.”

-

Two major changes had taken over Sharon’s life, and she finally felt prepared to face them. The morning, as she knew, would be difficult - she would be seeing off her friends in their brand new beginning and then getting ready to face her own. None of her decisions had been easy, but she felt that they were the best ones she could make.

Surprisingly, as she lingered at the top of the staircase, trying to fill herself with the confidence to walk past her mom and out of the door, she found that the old fear that used to gnaw at her was ebbing away. The heavily-adorned crosses all over the walls judged her and she judged them back, wondering how a woman who believed so deeply in a man dying for their sins could be so against love and acceptance. The so-called mother she had grown up with was nothing more than a bully using the cover of religion as a defense, and Sharon wasn’t going to be afraid of her anymore.

She headed downstairs.

“I’m going out,” She called into the kitchen. Unfortunately, she wasn’t able to dash from the kitchen to the front door, and her mom soon confronted her.

“No you’re not, young lady.” She admonished. Her hands were covered in flour, leaving white marks all over her sensible floral dress. “The church bake sale is today and I told them we would be there to help sell everything. You’ve been slacking again, Sharon, and I won’t have it.”

All of her confidence gathered from moments ago deflated like a sad balloon. Still, Sharon stood fast. “Well, you’re gonna have to tell them they’re down a member, because I’m not going.”

Her mom narrowed her eyes. “Don’t argue with me. You know what I can do.”

“You can’t do shit to me.” Sharon bit back. “I’m going to see off Raja and Jinkx, they’re leaving today. That’s that.”

“It’s always about you, isn’t it?” Her mom replied, taking a step closer. Instinctively, Sharon took one back. “I slave away to make sure you have a home, food, a good Christian upbringing and a decent education, and what do I get in return? I get your rudeness, your attitude.”

Sharon tried to interject, but there was no stopping her.

“I give you a home, you’re never here. I feed you, you don’t eat it. I diligently take you to church and you swear and sin like a heathen, purposely embarrassing me when all I do is try and do my best for you. You didn’t try at school, and now you’re wasting your time on sin and recreation even when I try to offer alternatives. So I have to discipline you, and then you think I’m evil. I’m not evil, I’m not disgraceful. You are. You’re a selfish daughter.”

Already, Sharon could tell things were going to go from bad to worse. The morning had barely started and they were already getting into a heavy argument that she knew would end in disaster.

“I’m selfish? Because you like to hit me?” She asked, in disbelief. “Do you think I enjoyed telling my teachers that my bruises were from me being some kind of fucking idiot, because you told me you’d do it again if I told them the truth? Because I didn’t fucking enjoy that, mother.”

“Don’t use that vile language, Sharon. It’s unbecoming of a young lady, as far from one as you might be.” Her mom hissed. “I don’t enjoy hitting you. I do what’s necessary to keep you in line. Our Lord told us to discipline our children. All I ever try to do is his bidding. All you care about are disgusting words and disgusting sins.”

All at once, a surge of white-hot anger lacerated Sharon’s body, releasing the boldness that Raja and Jinkx had always urged her to use. “Oh, fuck you and your shitty religion. Fuck you, fuck God, fuck Dad for never being here. His shitty missionary activism means nothing. All you care about is that everyone follows your fucking Bible and you focus so much on the lives of innocent strangers that you don’t even notice the shit happening right in front of your own eyes!”

She was pacing now, trying to rid herself of the all-consuming frenetic energy. “Fuck you. I’m not the selfish one, you are.”

Her outburst would not go unpunished. As she had seen many times before, her mom’s eyes flashed dangerously. It was as if all at once, her kindly Christian mother facade had melted away, flickering back to reveal her twisted reality. Though physically, nothing changed besides the clenched jaw and closed fist, Sharon suddenly saw her through the lens of her childhood fears. She was eight feet tall, laughing maliciously, her hands slowly raising upwards as she prepared to deliver a menacing blow. It would leave bruises that she should be ashamed of, for the abusive monster had won again and again.

Not again.

“Don’t you fucking dare touch me!” Sharon yelled. Her eyes were filled with furious tears. “I will never let you treat me like a doormat ever again. I will never let you abuse me in the name of your fucking God. This isn’t just about me anymore, which you would know if you fucking paid attention to the child you pretend to love.”

Without even realising, Sharon cupped her hands over her stomach. Somewhere in there, tucked away in the small bump she could feel beneath her fingers, she knew her baby was rooting for her.

“You disgust me.”

Her mom’s tone was much quieter, the fiery, destructive anger replaced with the slow black smoke that lingered afterwards. It was tinged with loathing, telling of her honest reaction to the news. Somewhat calmed - unbelievably - by the feeling of the bump in her hands, Sharon closed her eyes.

“Mom, please.”

Anything else she wanted to say to defend herself dissipated. Her mom’s sheer hatred silenced her before she could even process her own thoughts.

“Seventeen?!” She exclaimed, incensed, and threw her hands up in the air. “And I did everything right, too. I was a good Catholic mother. Lord, what did I do to deserve a slut for a daughter?!”

Despite everything, it still felt like a punch in the gut to hear such scathing words from the only person who was supposed to love her unconditionally. Sharon had known she would react explosively, but it hurt more than she wanted to admit.

“Mom, I-”

The woman stood before her pursed her lips, perfectly still. Her gaze was livid, her body stiff with rage. She looked at Sharon as though she were scum, a piece of dirt, a blight on her picture perfect life.

“I didn’t raise you to be like this.”

“You didn’t raise me at all!” Sharon bit back. “You were never here for me. You’re a shitty mother!”

“I’m not your mother.” She delivered the final blow in a low voice. “No daughter of mine would turn out to be a whore. A slut. You’re on your own.”

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Sharon raised her chin as high as she could. “Good riddance. This is the last time you’ll ever see me.”

“Get out of my house.”

Carrying only an old diary and an album full of photos with her, Sharon crossed the threshold of her front door for the last time, and heard it slam behind her. There was no going back now.

“We’re gonna be okay, you and me,” She whispered, her head hung low. “We’ll build a life together. I’ll be a good mom, I swear. I’ll show you just how much I love you, every day.”

[askcarlyle]

[A spontaneous thread (in conjunction with @askbarnum) originally written live on server last week.] 

Barnum

Creeps into the office, a bundle of something wrapped in blankets against his chest. Clicking the door shut and jolting when he sees Phillip

You are in early this morning.

Carlyle 

looks up from desk

Haven't been sleeping well lately. Gave up. Why did you order twenty pairs of miniature tap shoes?

Barnum 

Shuffles over to his desk with the bundle, trying to look as unsuspicious as possible as he carefully shifts it into one arm and starts rummaging in his desk drawer with the other

Ah, new act. Thought I'd told you about it. Dancing penguins. Maybe it slipped my mind. What's been keeping you up? I don't snore, do I?

Carlyle 

watches Barnum with mild curiosity

No, not much, I don't think. Probably just feeling a bit of pressure to conclude the train acquisition deal. It takes forever to inspect 3 dozen cars, it turns out. 

...are you really trying to be subtle or are you hoping I will ask what you have there? 

Barnum

Do you want me to take over? I'm sure I can handle inspecting some train cars.

Starts unpacking the drawer in search

Oh it's nothing. Just an injured fox I found outside. Nothing to concern yourself with or-

Is cut off as the bundle starts wailing, instantly losing his train of thought and putting down the stapler in his hand to start bouncing the bundle in his arms

Oh no no no, don't cry. Shhhhhhh. It's okay. Are you hungry? Shall we get you some milk?

Carlyle 

eyebrows shoot upwards in disbelief

Phin, is that a...

inches over for a closer look

Do they like being held sideways like that? 

Barnum

Sighs a heavy sigh and shifts the baby around into the crook or his arm, bouncing him gently

Alright, alright. You know how I took Christina, the fortune teller, out of the show a few months ago on sick leave? She was with child and gave birth a few weeks back. She does not want anyone to know, I've been taking care of him in the early mornings a few times a week to give her some space.

Gently holds the infant up to face Phillip as the tiny creature whimpers miserably. At least having the decency to look sheepish

I should have mentioned, but she made me swear secrecy. Also I believe I may be missing my daughters more than I realise.

Carlyle

stares at the bundle, wide-eyed

Hi there, what's your name?

slowly reaches out, offering one finger and watching as it is grabbed by a tiny hand

He's so small. And angry-looking.

Barnum

She hasn't given him a name yet. I think she was considering Jasper. I've just been referring to him as little tomato, he is very red and round.

Very carefully shifts the little creature over

Here, you want to hold him? I need two hands to find his bottle anyway.

Carlyle 

hastily holds out hands, still looking confused

Maybe? I mean. Yes? If it's safe...

gingerly picks up the baby with both hands, trying to figure out the optimal position to best support it, relaxing as he realizes the weight feels familiar

Huh. He's about the size of a cat. I wonder...

carefully flips it over to lay belly down on one arm, cradling it with legs and arms dangling

Hey, he seems to like this as much as BT does!

Barnum 

Starts to rummage in his desk drawer again until he finds and pulls out a glass baby bottle, letting out a small hum of success before glancing back at Phillip, immediately doubling over in laughter

Phil, what are you doing? That is not how you hold a baby.

Wipes one of his eyes with his palm, the other hand on his knee as he remains down to catch his breath before regaining some composure. Moving over and delicately lifting the baby out of his arms, turning him around and laying him right ways up in the crook of Phillip's arm.

Just support his head and you'll be fine. Best not to hold them upside down, they do tend to leak from the top half just as much as the bottom.

Carefully moves over to the coffee table, picking up the bottle of fresh milk they had for coffee and scraping off the cream before filling the bottle. He shakes it softly and then pours some hot water from the wash pot into a bowl and places the feeding bottle in it to warm up.

Carlyle 

frowns but gamely holds it in the new position, eyeing diaper a little nervously

No leaks until Uncle Phin comes back, okay buddy? A stain won't show on that travesty of a waistcoat anyway.

Barnum 

Hey, watch it. Paisley is high fashion at the moment.

Takes the bottle out and tests it gently on his wrist before bringing it over

He seems to really like you, he's stopped crying. Want to try to feed him or do you want me to take him back?

Carlyle 

perks up, grinning at the baby

He did, didn't he?

holds out hand for bottle

Better not disturb him with another transfer then. This shouldn't be too hard.

gently waves bottle's teat in front of infant's mouth until it lunges for it

Wow, guess you were hungry.

ten minutes later, with baby still suckling slowly at bottle

PT? I take it back. My arm is falling asleep.

Barnum 

Chuckles, leaning against his desk and watching in amusement

Hmmmmmm. Nope. Don't think I'm going to take him back. You are stuck with him forever now. This is your new life.

Carlyle

carefully backs into the sofa and sits, resting arm on a cushion with a sigh

I know what nursing a drink looks like, and I swear this baby is doing it on purpose.

huffs triumphantly as the bottle is finally released, only to notice that the diaper end now feels a bit damper

Umm. Help. 

Barnum

Shakes his head fondly and opens the closet at the back of the office, pulling out a blanket and a bundle of material. Then grabs the bowl of warm water and dumps a handful of rags in it.

Alright, alright. I've tormented you enough. Hand him over.

Chuckles softly as he plucks the baby from Phil's arms and lays him down on the blanket on top of his desk to change him, his movements so swift it's like a blur

You've got a knack for this you know. Most men won't even hold their own babies for fear of doing it wrong. Hand me that bottle of powder over there. Have you ever had thoughts of having children of your own before? I mean, obviously before we....

Carlyle 

passes over the bottle in question, watching Barnum work away in silence for a long beat

Well. Of course. It was expected. All part of the plan. Perhaps my only real job, according to some.

small downward turn of the lips, regards baby sadly

As if someone this small should ever have to go through that.

Barnum 

Tightens the new diaper neatly with a pin, then bundles up the dirty one and tosses it to Phillip without warning

Heads up.

Chuckles, watching him catch it then drop it in horror, before scooping the baby up and moving over to sit next to him

You aren't living that life anymore. What you do with your life is what you decide to, and no matter what it is you decide it will be the most important job in the world because it matters to you. Have babies, don't have babies, get married, don't get married. You are your own man, Phil. Only let the things that make you happy define you and don't worry about anyone else.

Gently lowers the much happier little baby into Phillip's lap, along with a blanket. Then stands to toss away the abandoned dirty diaper

No child should be made to feel as if their purpose is laid out before them, their future is their decision. You okay to burp him?

Carlyle 

nodding slowly, still mulling over the question in a way not previously considered

Knowing how happy they make you, having met the girls myself and seen their faces, I suppose it's something I would not be averse to having at all. If such a thing were possible.

lifts the baby and whispers in his ear

C'mere you. Humor me and burp fast and there's a stuffed toy in your future. 

Barnum

Shuffles a little closer and tucks the blanket over Phillip's shoulder

You're going to want to protect your clothes. Here, just give his back a gentle pat. I do it to the rhythm of our opening song.

Leans his head against Phillip's other shoulder as he watches fondly

I am likely getting on a bit to be a father again. Doing this full time along with running the show would be exhausting. Don't get me wrong, if I woke up one morning magically a father again I would embrace it with everything I've got. But honestly, I am happy with how things are. I have my two girls and they are the lights of my life. Besides, me and you have a whole troupe to look after as well as animals, I think I am near fathered out for one lifetime.

Gently strokes the baby's cheek with the side of his finger, eyes so soft

I do miss it, sometimes. Admittedly I do have an incredible soft spot for babies. Now that the girls are older and living with their mother I do often get a touch of empty nest syndrome, it does sometimes feel like I have lost a little part of who I was. But I wouldn't change a thing about the way things are now. Being with you, being here, living life to the fullest, it makes me the happiest man on the planet.

Moves in slightly to press a kiss against Phil's cheek

I just want to make sure that I am never holding you back. I have had my chance in life to pass on my seed, to raise little ones and watch them grow. I hate to think it would ever be something I am depriving you of, if it ever was something you wanted. I suppose that either way, you'll always still be a father though. The girls adore you near as much as they adore me. You'll always be a dad to them.

Carlyle 

pats baby's back to a steady rhythm, leaning head against Barnum's

You've already given me more than I could have possibly imagined or hoped for, the exact opposite of deprivation. Real family is something far beyond surnames and lineage, you've taught me that.

kisses the stray curls on top of Barnum's head, then starts a little as the baby burps softly and promptly falls asleep on his other shoulder

Good job, buddy.

Barnum 

Puts an arm around Phillip's shoulder gently, grinning at him lovingly before settling against him again, watching the sleeping baby breathe softly against his shoulder.

You should join me to do this more often. We make a good babysitting team. You're a natural.

About to turn Phillip's face towards him to plant a kiss on his lips, is interrupted as the door clicks open. He straightens and clears his throat as Christina the fortune teller wanders in, looking briefly panicked by Phillip before sighing and turning her attention to the ringmaster

"It's ten o'clock, Mr Barnum. Time to give him back. Was he good?" 

He was a perfect little gentleman as always. We can keep him for another few hours if you-

She narrows her eyes at him and wanders over to scoop up her baby fondly, giving Phillip a grateful nod

"You cannot bargain for more time every week. You are already on thin ice."

She wanders out with a wave, closing the door. Barnum snorts softly and gives Phillip a sheepish look

The first time she left him with me I got rather too attached and took him for an impromptu walk without telling her to buy myself a little more time. To say she was panicked when she came in and we were gone is an understatement. Breakfast before we head downstairs?

[mochalattaehyung-blog]

☆彡 Part 2

Summary: Late night texts lead to strange diner meetings and a handful of inappropriate questions. But you’d expect nothing less from Jungkook or Taehyung.

The minute you arrive back at your apartment, something within you bursts and you can’t help but smile. The feeling is like coming back from one of those inspirational movies and instantly wanting to turn your life around. Well, the most you do is open your window, but it still makes you feel refreshed. The night sky has a darkish gleam to it that brings a shadow to your room. Turning on the fairy lights above your bed, you sigh with delight. What are the chances that you’d meet two handsome people and have the time of your life after a week of absolute despair?

Changing into a bright yellow top that reaches halfway down your knees, you are calmly humming to yourself when your phone buzzes. The feeling of your stomach churning returns for a millisecond. What are the chances that it’s Jaehwa trying to pry you back into their life or Seohyun blaming you for something? Your invisible barrier that Taehyung and Jungkook has placed up for you drops to the floor as you rush to grab the stupid thing.

[Tae 🐯] 9:18pm

Are you home?

You chuckle at the contact name he gave himself. Now that you think of it, he does kind of resemble a tiger. His stare is still imprinted in your mind, wild smile the kind you’d expect from a wild animal beneath the shadow of the jungle leaves. Shaking your head, you try to perk yourself up a little after the dampening thoughts and bring yourself to reply.

[You] 9:19pm

Yeah, I’m about to get into bed :) Thanks again for tonight!!!

You want to cringe at the creepy-looking smiley face you added, immediately wanting to toss your phone somewhere into an abyss where you no longer have to look at it. Technology can be extremely hard sometimes.

Not expecting an immediate reply, you jump under the covers, marvelling in the instant heat your little burrito provides you. You’ve always been one for wrapping yourself in your covers, after all, it provides protection and support! That’s more than most of your friends have ever offered you, if you’re really to go there . . .

[Tae 🐯] 9:20pm

Me and Jungkook really enjoyed. We’d love to meet up again.

Your heart almost stops at the text message. It seems so foreign to have a genuine invitation for once. Tapping your finger against your mouth, you sit up in your bed to think of a suitable reply. It’s a Sunday tomorrow and you most definitely aren’t busy, but is it too soon to ask them? Perhaps you’ll just let Taehyung decide what time?

[You] 9:20pm

I would really like that too!! When do you want to meet up?

You once again are unable to look at your phone, a giddy sense of excitement making you jump a little. You can’t help but think about the both of them. They were so nice to offer you their company, and whilst they did give you a reasonable excuse you also can’t help but wonder what they saw in you that day? Was it pity? Are they just doing this because they feel bad? Your complex mind yet again ruins your happiness, causing you to pummel into your bed sheets. Well, at least he texted you first. That has to be a good sign, right?

Taehyung doesn’t reply for a while and you figure it’s because he’s talking to Jungkook. They’re both University students, maybe they share a dorm or an apartment similar to yours? They didn’t say exactly which university they go to, but considering the way they carry themselves you’re positive it’s one of the top three.

[Tae 🐯] 9:24pm

Monday?

Taehyung is a blunt texter, you note. The worst kind for someone with your type of personality. His lack of words equal lack of enthusiasm to you and instantly you feel like a bother. Trying to shrug away the thoughts is even harder and so you walk around your bedroom, completely abandoning the idea of sleeping.

Once you actually read the word, you let out a low huff. Of course you can’t make Monday! You have an assignment due and plenty of classes to get through. It’s one of the busiest days of your week. Must be witchcraft. The universe clearly isn’t on your side.

[You] 9:26pm

Sorry, I have an assignment due the next day. I can’t miss the deadline. Again.

You will admit that when it comes to deadlines, you are useless. Your ‘creative flow’ (which really is just a fancier term for procrastination) needs time and patience and it’s usually late into the night when you actually get your ideas. Thankfully, Taehyung has managed to remind you that you actually due have an assignment due and you should probably work on it.

Panic emits throughout your entire system and your already jaunty body is now rushing towards your school backpack where you know your notebook is idly sitting, waiting to be stared at for a few hours and then thrown away as it always is.

[Tae 🐯] 9:26pm

That’s naughty, you should never miss a deadline. Tuesday?

His words make you a little tingly, which worries you to a certain extent. He seems like a kind person, from what you can recall. Somehow laid back, but also like a hawk, aware of everything and constantly alert. You expect he’s most likely strict with himself and is just reflecting it onto you. That’s the obvious explanation, anyway.

You find yourself in your kitchen, stuffing into the leftover pizza you had stored the previous night in your fridge. It’s quite a comical scene really, here you are in your oversized t-shirt with leftover pizza in your rather sweaty hand. Stupidly, you don’t want to think about it. You aren’t ‘quirky’ like the girls on Instagram who probably do the exact same thing as you do, take a picture and then leave it. You’re just as basic as the next person, which is another reason as to why you are so unsure of this whole thing.

Get a grip, Y/N.

You contemplate on what to reply, pizza grease causing your phone to slip from your hand. You almost manage to curse as it hits the hard floor, luckily bouncing on its corner which saves your precious glass screen.

[Tae 🐯] 9:30pm

Tuesday. 4:30.

Does he know he’s had an affect on you? The text shows brightly on the screen, words burning into your mind. Part of you is ready to text him back telling him that you are independent and can sort it out yourself, almost wanting to be offended in order to ensure your sanity, but you can’t help but feel the same tingly feeling as before. A part of you is okay with being dependent on him. As well as Jungkook.

Your assignment is handed in right on time and all is well until the bell for lunch rings. It’s like a chime signalling the end of days to you, the sound echoing in your ears. Everything is muted aside from that one haunting sound as you walk to the lunch hall, letting yourself be knocked and bumped like a rag doll as your steps are soulless and unmotivated. You can’t pretend that everything is alright forever. Not when you see them all sitting there.

Haeun is the first to notice you, of course. Her outfit is a simple sleeveless jumper on top of a crisp white shirt, presentable and modest. Her skirt however, is inches away from revealing everything. Once again she is a mastermind when it comes to fooling her parents. You hate the feeling, almost wanting to go and talk to her about how she managed to pull it off. It takes effort for you to walk past them without looking, because you can feel their burning gaze with each step.

“Hey, Y/N!” Seohyun’s voice is unrecognisable above the crowd of rowdy teenagers. You instantly shoot your head in their direction, completely and utterly letting your guard down which causes you to sink away behind a few people before you actually do something.

There, sitting in the middle, is Jaehwa. Her bleach blonde hair looks almost natural now that she’s had her roots done, her school blazer discarded beside her leaving her tight shirt on show. You’ve never felt such impending jealousy in your life. You’re a stupid bitch for feeling this way because you know what she’s like, but a part of you just can’t help but want the vibe she carries with her. She is untouchable. Surely, she didn’t cry at home like you did.

She gives you one of those sly finger-waves, barely moving as a smirk begins to form on her lips. You can already picture it, like some dumb movie scene. You are the helpless victim whilst your ex friends continue to torment you endlessly. It makes you sick to your stomach, so much so that your tray is no longer of any value to you and you leave it where it sits, ignoring your rumbling stomach. You will not be the damsel in distress. You just wish you hadn’t left your damn pasta.

It’s 4:15 and you’ve never been more stressed in your life. Taehyung had asked you last night to meet in the diner you had last time and you couldn’t be more pleased. You loved that place, it seems so vintage. You don’t exactly know what to wear, freaking out over which top to choose. Your clothes are much less than revealing, in fact you don’t think you’ve ever even shown skin on nights out.

“Oy vey.” You sigh as you hold up a baby pink dress and a baby blue one. You’ve decided t shirts may be too casual even if it is just a meet-up with some new friends. How do you even dress for these kinds of things? It’s not a date. It’s not a date. Besides, there’s two of them. All of your thought mould into one when you finally go with the blue dress, putting a plain white T-shirt underneath it because your mindset still tells you to be modest. Maybe it’s just your confidence? You’ve always accepted whatever people wear, so what’s the problem when it’s you?

Realising the time, you lock up your apartment and run out of the door, quickly waving at a few of your neighbours before dashing to the diner which sadly is a little too far for your liking. You almost regret adding a beret since it almost falls off every waking second, but you wear a beret with almost every outfit as it is a crucial part of your life.

The neon sign glows against the slowly darkening sky. As you open the door, you halt your steps. There’s a ton of people here. Almost every booth is full. Last time you came here there was barely anyone here, which makes you gulp. People seem rather skeptical of your arrival, most dressed in strangely coordinated outfits.

The one booth that isn’t fully cramped is the one you walk towards, not recognising any of the people that stare you down with a look of pure hatred. Thankfully, you find Taehyung and Jungkook sitting there, immersed in conversation.

“Hey.” You murmur shyly, completely hating yourself for the ugly introduction. You hate how cowardly you seem, plopping yourself down next to Jungkook as awkwardly as humanly possible. Jungkook feels warm beside you, so much so that you have to resist the urge to snuggle up to him.

“Hi, Y/N.” Jungkook welcomes you hushfully, tilting his head downwards to smile at you. It makes your heart melt a little and you have to look away like some horrible lovesick girl from a romantic comedy; the kind of films you are an absolute sucker for.

“Y/N, you look troubled.” Taehyung announces, his elbows on the table as he leans in, an eyebrow quirking upward. You notice that his hair is much lighter than previously. Rather than a ruby red, his hair is now a light peach, verging on pink.

“Well, people here didn’t seem to p-pleased to see me I guess. I don’t know. . .” You turn away to look at everyone. They’re minding their own business, but in an ominous kind of way. As if it’s just something they’re doing to pass time. You look around, biting your lip suspiciously.

“Are they bothering you?” Jungkook’s usual soft-spoken voice sounds darker, which makes you whip your head around to meet his eyes. They are equally as dark, like something out of a horror movie. He looks like he has a thought in his head, one single thought. If you say yes to the question, what exactly would he do?

“No!” You laugh nervously, your hands performing some awfully paced waving motion in order to stop Jungkook from doing anything stupid. You hadn’t expected him to have such a hard exterior in situations like this. Part of you now feels silly for underestimating him.

“A lot of them are part of a gang, this is where they come. It’s their territory too and unfortunately that means sharing our beloved pizza with them. Just ignore them, they probably think you’re not good enough for them or something. In my opinion, you are fa better than they’ll ever be.” His voice is somehow coy, the kind that you’d use to speak to a young and impressionable child. He’s trying to convince you to believe his lie, the only obvious assumption you can think of.

Your sensitivity seems to heighten a little, suddenly the eyes on you become so much more noticeable. The lingering stares are certainly not calming in any way, “So, this gang—“

“Don’t even go there, they’re dangerous. They have this crazy pack mentality and all they do is deal crappy drugs. They aren’t what they project themselves to be.” Jungkook’s looming voice settles you slightly, but you are also shocked to hear him speak so much in one go. He isn’t at all how you’d portrayed him in your head. His presence is more of an observant one, you notice he isn’t one for joining in that often.

Your curiosity is practically burning through ever vein in your body. You want so badly to pry further as you normally do, ruthlessly rip into all kinds of questions. The look both Taehyung and Jungkook throw at you, however, makes you wish you hadn’t even thought of the idea.

“Anyway, let’s change the subject. You look particularly nice, what prompted this look?” You take the compliment to heart, since he seems so interested in fashion. Taehyung is wearing an extremely expensive jacket, smooth and colourful but somehow just enough.

“I didn’t know if this diner was casual chic or just simple so I went for an in between?” Your answer sounds like more of a question and you hunch your shoulder out of instinct to display your confusion. Jungkook scoffs, which you are mildly unsure how to take, “this place is in no way chic, I’m pretty sure you’d get away with wearing your pyjamas in here.” You chuckle , noticing something keen in Taehyung’s eyes. When he meets your stare, he clicks his tongue.

“Wanna bet?” A devious smile rests upon Taehyung’s face, his fingers playing with one of the napkins provided on the table. You snicker at the thought of Jungkook actually wearing pyjamas in here, but you aren’t entirely sure he wouldn’t do it.

“Sure. If I come in here tomorrow morning in my pyjamas, you have to give me,” Jungkook trails off for a moment, and you stare at him in awe. Is he actually going to do this?

“Whatever I want on the menu, no price limit.” Scoffing, you let our an exasperated sigh. He looks at you, as if to say ‘what’s wrong with that?’ Personally, you would have asked for money. After all, payback is fun. When you do it right.

“Deal, Kookie.”

Finally, a waiter comes over. You are sad to see that it isn’t Namjoon from the previous night. Instead it’s a scrawny boy who doesn’t seem to peak either of the boys’ interest, suggesting they are strangers. Since it’s nearing noon, you decide to treat yourself. That makes no sense, why does the time of day mean you can treat yourself, Y/N?

You order a milkshake and some fries, as well as a humongous burger. The people around you, although painfully attractive, are not going to stop you and your ravaging sidekick, ‘super stomach’. That was lame.

After you order, Taehyung and Jungkook still ramble on about the stupid bet, insisting you waste your precious early in hours in order to see Jungkook in his pyjamas. Although it would be a heartwarming sight, you aren’t sure it’s physically possible for you to wake up before 8am.

“Okay, I know we know quite a bit about each other, but it’s not really getting anywhere with this stupid bet. Come on, tell me about me about yourselves.” You urge the boys to tell you about themselves. Curiosity is practically flowing through your entire body at the moment, that paired with undoubted cynicism on what exactly the people around you are doing. Taehyung and Jungkook seem completely unbothered by it, almost familiar to it. You aren’t saying that you doubt them in any way, but when you think about it you don’t even know an awful amount about them.

“Well, Jungkook here is a bit of a sadist.” Taehyung blurts out, picking up one of his french fries as if he’d said something normal, when in reality you’re here practically choking on your drink. You’ve quickly accumulated through mild conversation that Taehyung is blunt and incredulous when it comes to silence.

You look over at Jungkook with a raised eyebrow, because what the heck? Does he just like hurting people on the daily or is it more of an in bed kind of thing. Either way, you want to know.

Taehyung is damn good at controlling conversations.

“Well, you wanted to know more...” Jungkook simply says, his head held downwards as he is unable to look at you. That’s his answer?!? THAT. You almost can’t fathom the surge of feelings coursing through you at this very moment. Jungkook’s hunched back and blushing face paired with Taehyung’s feline smirk. Nothing is making sense in your mind. It’s like your nerves have jumbled up into what looks like those strawberry string sweets. Your palms are uncomfortably sweaty and your face is beet red. Thanks, hormones.

“Okayyyy; that’s not exactly what I was expecting. So Jungkook, you like hurting people?” You ask, knowing that your pushing yourself a little too far as you place your head in your hand, eager to hear a reply. It’s a bit wicked of you really, but it feels too good all the same.

“Well, in that context it sounds villainous of me. But yes, in some senses.” Jungkook seems all the more intrigued, his shyness seemingly gone, instead replaced with a dominant aura. You feel your thighs clench at his words—you hate yourself for it. This was meant to be some lovely friendship that would swoop away your lonesome thoughts, but you just have to get attracted. Surely, it won’t escalate to anything further.

“And in what context exactly, does it not sound so villainous?” You twirl a strand of your hair on your stubby finger, really stumbling from your comfort zone at this point. You don’t think you’ve ever acted this way in front of a Male, since normally it ends in you becoming so paranoid that you cut off all ties. Something about Jungkook makes you not want to do that, even if it is a spur of the moment kind of thing.

“Barf. This is utterly gross.” Taehyung interrupts your rather sensual moment, making ‘you come back down’, if you will. Your elbow is off the table in seconds, thighs rubbing together as you shut your eyes out of your sheer stupidity. Why are you so awkward?

“Well, Y/N. Taehyung here likes to be called ‘master’ in bed, should you ever need any pointers.” Jungkook gets his own back, leaning further into the leather of the seat, the booth suddenly becoming extremely tight-fitted. You find yourself choking on air once again as these unbelievable boys stare each other down into some sort of spiritual realm. What is going on? Did they precept your ‘wanting to get to know them’ differently or are they doing this on purpose?

“In fact, Y/N. I love it.” Taehyung’s gawk is fixated directly on you, his coffee coloured eyes not even hesitating to push tension and all kinds of emotions straight into your little bubble. This is meant to be the part where you describe his ‘orbs’ in excessive detail, but you are completely unable to over the desperate throb you feel in your lower region.

Don’t do it. Don’t do it. You’ll lay awake thinking about it for months if you do it. You’re going to regret it.

“Do you really, master?”

You can’t help it, all three of you burst out laughing, tears almost forming at your eyes as you watch Taehyung holding his gut in an attempt to suppress his own laughter. You replay the cringey purr in your mind, laughing again. Breathing almost seems an inconvenience at this point.

“That was the worst thing I’ve ever heard.” Taehyung shrieks, his roar of laughter making you feel somewhat warm. For someone who seems so poised and in charge, his goofy laugh really lets him down. You don’t understand your feelings at the moment. Jungkook is an amazing person, beautiful and reserved but sentimental and challenging all the same. It’s not like you to observe someone so closely, but you find yourself doing the same with Taehyung. He is electric, part of every conversation but also aware and focused. You aren’t sure, slipping into a headspace of ultimate confusion as you watch the two sneakily converse and bicker with each other.

Oh no.

↳ A/N - Thank you for the support on my first chapter of Lonesome!!!! I definitely did NOT expect it!! I hope y’all (🤠) like this one as much as the last!! Things will be uncovered about Taehyung and Jungkook very soon so stay tuned! 🐸☕️

[jordan202]

My Boys: Beyond the Horizon - Chapter 18

Hey guys, here goes the penultimate chapter of this story :) thanks to everyone who’s stuck till this point!

Link to previous chapters is HERE

My Boys: Beyond the Horizon – Chapter Eighteen

JD tried to pay attention as two junior girls did their best to hold his attention with small talk and flattery as the group waited next to a vending machine in the school external patio, but all his eyes could focus on was the way Megan Hunt was nearly smashing something that resembled a label maker as she organized three stacks of paper and properly tagged them using the tool she had.

For some reason, the prospect of teasing her and invariably get into yet another discussion with Megan excited the boy more than listening to two girls shower him with compliments in order to hold his attention. Excusing himself, JD nonchalantly left both juniors behind and walked towards the table Megan was occupying.

The outdoor area was nearly empty at that early hour in the morning, with only a few students hanging back to finish a cup of coffee or chocolate before the first class. It was unusual to see Megan without her parade of best friends and fans all around her, which was also why JD couldn’t let the opportunity pass. He supposed that the people who usually hung out with the girl had already gone to their classrooms whilst she had stayed back, which was uncommon as well considering how she was often one of the first ones to arrive to class, sometimes even twenty minutes before it was set to begin.

As he approached the girl, JD could tell she was tenser than usual, which could explain the way she was violently handling the object in hand. This time around, he couldn’t think of something he might have done to set her off like that, but it was better to be careful anyway.

“Are you trying to label your fingers?” JD smirked as he took the seat in front of her without the need for an invitation. “Because you’re one step away from gluing them to those papers.”

He watched as Megan smashed the object a few times more, properly labeling whatever it was she was organizing before taking a breath and then finally bringing up her eyes to look at him. JD had noticed that organizing things was a way for her to deal with stress and he found it quite amusing.

“What do you want?”

Her dry remark sounded more resentful than he would usually associate with the girl, but JD took it as a wrong impression. After all, nothing out of the ordinary had happened between them over the last few days.

“You’re skipping first period?” he asked with curiosity. It was very much like him to cut class or be late for it, but not Megan.

Since the girl didn’t answer his question, settling instead for resuming her task, JD could only assume he had indeed done something to get to her nerves. He was just having a hard time remembering what exactly.

Megan remained in silence, hoping that her response would make him go away. JD Callaghan, his provocations and the way he was always trying to set her off had already cost her too much. It had been a couple of days and she still didn’t understand why Aaron was so jealous of the guy, considering how much she didn’t like him.

“What is it? You’re unusually quiet today,” he pointed out with a pestering grin. “You’re not going bite me back? Are you sick?” JD asked with a silly smirk, finding her behavior very unusual. “Oh, I know! Did you have a fight with Softie? Is that why you’re acting so weird?”

He noticed he’d hit the right nail on the head when Megan immediately raised her eyes and furiously looked back at him.

“Don’t you dare talk about Aaron,” she demanded.

JD noticed that her reaction seemed exaggerated for the comment he’d just made. The boy had made fun of her boyfriend several times before and even though it had always bothered Megan, reason why he kept doing it, never had it earned such an icy, resentful response.

The teenage boy narrowed his eyes, trying to think through the situation. It was obvious something had happened between Megan and the guy, or else she wouldn’t be so upset. And she seemed especially angry with him, so there was a good chance his name had been involved as well.

Almost instantly, JD thought back about the week before and the teasing in the locker room. He’d heard that after his incident with Megan in the mud, some of the guys in the football team had made fun of their quarterback by insinuating that his girlfriend might be changing offense for defense. Usually, JD would add fuel to the fire but he knew that if he went through with the provocation, it would probably make things worse or even really upset Megan. So he’d asked his teammates to stop, but it was very likely Aaron Cole hadn’t been pleased with the situation from the very beginning.

Some guys had even gone as far as to say that Aaron was jealous of JD because he was a more successful player and got more attention from others.

Yet now, looking at the blue-eyed girl with a thunderous expression on her face and that cute stubborn nose, JD realized that Aaron had to be a damned fool to actually believe he was a runner up at something that really mattered.

It was Aaron who was the lucky one and he had to be an idiot not to know it.

“You know what, why don’t you go back to your girlfriends and leave me alone?” Megan asked, feeling her throat constricted. She’d noticed that both girls who’d been with JD before were sitting on a table across the patio, but wouldn’t stop throwing glances in their direction. Megan didn’t want to deal with him right now because everything he represented and had caused was too confusing and too painful. JD had already cost her relationship with Aaron and that had left her heartbroken. She didn’t need him to cause any more problems.

“You’re being especially sour today, but I know you’re craving my company,” JD flashed a smile, knowing he was provoking her.

Megan saw the way his green eyes sparkled as he smiled and she hated herself for noticing it. JD rarely smiled, for he was always teasing and torturing her. But whenever he did, she couldn’t help but think he had one of the most beautiful smiles she’d ever seen and the realization tormented her, drowning Megan in a spiral of guilt and self shame she didn’t know how to get out of.

“I am craving your company?” she heard herself saying in a bitter tone, one she didn’t remember ever using before. Megan was tired of people accusing her of that. She rejected the idea with every fiber of her being. “You are insufferable! That’s why no one is friends with you,” Megan exploded, irrationally taking out on him all her built up anger and confusing at her unresolved and much too strong feelings. “If even your parents didn’t want you around, why would I?”

The words left her mouth before Megan could think them through, but the moment she heard her voice, the girl instantly regretted having said them.

The shock was stamped on her face and Megan grew paler. It was as if she couldn’t believe what she’d just said, but at the same time the girl was so scandalized that she froze, unable to rectify herself.

“JD, I am sorry, I didn’t…”

“You’re right,” the boy replied as he got up. Megan noticed he didn’t seem furious as she expected him to be, but rather merely disappointed. The realization made her loathe herself and her cruel attitude even more. “I am sorry I bothered you.”

“JD, wait, I didn’t mean to…” Megan tried to follow him, but the minute she left the table, the loud bell announcing the beginning of the first morning term rang, giving Megan no choice other than gathering her things while hoping that JD would show up at music class later that day.

.

Thomas knocked on the familiar suburban door, anxiously checking his wristwatch. It was very early in the day, but since it was a weekday and the lights on the kitchen were on, he knew people in it were probably up and getting ready for work.

“Tom, hey,” Jo Wilson seemed surprised to find the young man standing on her doorway at eight in the morning but that didn’t prevent her from smiling at his unexpected appearance. “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything is good,” Thomas replied with a relaxed smile. Jo could tell by the serenity in his eyes that he was doing a lot better than during their last encounters. “I know it’s not exactly the best moment of the day, but is there any chance I can see Kate?”

“She is sleeping in her bedroom, but go ahead and make yourself at home,” Jo cleared the way for him to get inside the house. Thomas had knocked on her door looking for her daughter so many times before in a lifetime that she didn’t feel the need to guide him inside. “Alex and I are leaving for work but she will be happy to see you.”

“Say hi to Dr. Karev for me,” Thomas nodded as Jo Wilson left, glad she wasn’t asking him any questions about why he wasn’t at the hospital performing his duties as an intern like he was supposed to.

Thomas waited on purpose until he heard a car noise leaving the garage and made his way to the upper floor of the house. Very silently, he opened the door to Kate’s childhood bedroom.

The lights were off but from the little he could see, Thomas noticed that just like he remembered, everything was decorated in gentle tones of lavender and white. Next to Kate’s study desk, a pin board was still hanging on the wall, except now it had several more pictures and notes added to it than last time the boy had been there.

And on the opposite end of the room, snuggled between a pillow and a teddy bear Thomas identified as one he’d given her for a random Valentine’s Day, Kate slept peacefully in her old bed.

Unable to contain a smile, Tom approached her, carefully inspecting every detail on her face. Kate was always so energetic and relentless during the day that sometimes he forgot how knocked down by sleep she could get – and how radically her features would change then. Looking at her now, she seemed almost ordinary, but only Thomas could attest how much of a true force of nature the girl could become whenever she set her mind to something. Kate was her own person and she made no apologies for it. And that was one of the reasons why he’d been in love with her forever.

Not really planning what he was doing, Thomas took off his jacket and shoes and joined her in bed, gently sliding on the covers.

A sharp mind drifted between consciousness and sleep as chestnut eyes struggled to open, ultimately remaining wide alert to look back at him.

“I am sorry,” Thomas mumbled against her shoulder as he wrapped one arm around Kate’s waist, being promptly held back. There were probably a thousand ways he could start that conversation but right now, those words seemed the most fitting. “I didn’t get it before but I get it now,” he affirmed, holding her so tightly in his arms almost as if afraid he would lose her again.

Kate ran a hand through the soft locks of his silver blonde hair and smiled with a mix of satisfaction, happiness and love. She had definitely been caught off guard and was still trying to regain all her senses, so the girl couldn’t understand exactly what was going on. But whatever had happened to prompt that change in Thomas, she definitely approved of.

“I know,” she turned her face in the darkness and kissed his forehead longingly, yearning just the same to have him near again.

Thomas stayed in silence for the next minutes, enjoying the soothing touch of her fingertips on his head as Kate caressed his hair. The side of his face was resting on her chest because everything about Kate, from her smell to her warmth was so familiar and just damn amazing that he didn’t want to let go.

“Kate,” Thomas finally gathered the strength to partially raise his head and meet her eyes with his. His voice faltered a bit as he obviously hesitated, but ultimately, the intern finally managed to say it, “I talked to my dad yesterday.”

“Yeah?” Kate smiled positively, instantly picking up that said conversation had probably been the game changer in his behavior. Instead of acting defensively and pushing her away, this time around, Thomas had come looking for her and he was obviously interested in making things work between them again. Moreover, his expression seemed less uptight and in a way, even his smile was more relaxed, reminding her of the same old Thomas who she’d known and loved all her life.

“He’s helped me see things,” Thomas summed up. Reaching out for Kate’s hand, he gave it a squeeze before kissing it and bringing it against his chest. “I am so sorry that you left without me,” he breathed out slowly. Kate knew he was talking about her trip to Europe. “But I couldn’t go with you.”

Kate noticed that at the moment he spoke the words, a single tear started to form in his eyes.

“Oh, sweetheart, I know,” she said, taking both hands to the sides of his face and gently stroking his hair. “I know that…”

“I wrote you an email every day,” Thomas confessed, feeling a clog forming in his throat when confronted with her understanding. He wasn’t lying, he had indeed written a bunch of emails. “But I never sent them.”

Kate frowned, processing the information.

“Why didn’t you?”

Thomas slowly got up, sitting on the bed against the bedframe as Kate did the same. He needed to take a couple of deep breaths before continuing with his explanation.

“I don’t know, Katie… I guess… I guess I thought you were maybe doing too well without me and I wasn’t,” he finally met her eyes again. “I wasn’t doing well at all alone in Boston, but then I got your emails and your postcards and I thought… Well, maybe you are good without me,” he shrugged, confused. “Perhaps, even better? I don’t know…” Thomas shook his head, still confused. “And I think I was so mad at you for so long because of that that I failed to notice the obvious, you see?”

“I was a mess, Tommy,” Kate shared, amused with his adorable awkwardness. “I cried every day of the trip for the first two weeks,” she confessed. “Once in Amsterdam, I actually had to leave a pub because I saw a guy playing the bass guitar and he reminded me too much of you,” she shared with a smile, happy that she could laugh about it now.

“Then why did you stay there?” Thomas asked her, holding her hand with loyalty. He didn’t want to imagine Kate crying every night, longing to be home. They had been through a tough time but never for a moment had it been about their relationship. The two of them had always been fine but when their careers had mixed with some traumatizing personal events, Thomas and Kate had taken different views on how to deal with a turning point and that had caused a split. But they had never officially broken up, which had made their separation even more complicated and difficult to deal with. “Why didn’t you come back?”

“Because I felt like I needed to survive on my own first,” Kate informed him with caring eyes, knowing that while for Thomas that could be a difficult concept to grasp, for her it made more sense. “And you did too. We needed to be fine on our own first.”

Thomas smiled sheepishly, chucking her under the chin to make Kate look back at him.

“Are you saying that because everyone is always nagging us about how we pretty much never dated other people, we…”

“No,” Kate interrupted him with lighthearted contentment. “Not because of other people,” she corrected him. “Because of us. Tom, think about it,” she proposed. “We are together all the time,” Kate pointed out. “There were times I was finding it hard to figure out who I was and what parts of me were really just an extension of you,” she teased, watching him smile because it was obvious he felt the same way. Over the years, their individuality had fallen to the background because everything had slowly turned out to be about them as a couple. “I think no matter how painful this whole experience was, it ultimately served to remind us that we are not two halves of something but rather a single individual and that we can, and should have different responses to things if we want to,” she explained. “But what it showed to me is that regardless of how differently we might see things sometimes, it doesn’t mean that we don’t want to be with each other.”

“We can be fine on our own,” Thomas smiled, making sense of her point. He agreed entirely with what Kate was saying. “We just don’t have to,” he leaned over and touched her forehead with his.

“Well, I don’t want to,” Kate wrapped her arms around his neck as she climbed on his lap. “But it’s good to know that I can.”

Thomas laughed with enchantment and pulled her closer, finally kissing her lips to seal their newest agreement. It made perfect sense that they could live life without one another while simply choosing not to.

After that, he went on to explain to Kate the arrangement he’d made with his father. After agreeing to stick to the hours of his contract and not extend his workload any longer by staying extra time, even in the moments when the opportunity might seem incredible, Thomas shared that Owen had also set up a weekly meeting for him with a medical counsel who would guide him as he got his life back on track.

Once he was done giving his testimonial, Thomas noticed that Kate bit her bottom lip nervously, as if unsure whether or not to share something of her own.

“So, as you can see, I have it all figure out now,” Thomas playfully exaggerated as he played with her fingers between his. The fact he was making jokes about it showed how at ease he was with the new turn things had taken and Kate loved seeing it.

“Yeah, about that…” the girl hesitated, clearly not as comfortable or decided about that aspect of her life as she was about mostly everything else.

“What is it?” Thomas asked gently, rubbing her back in support.

“I know I have postponed my residency, but I am not sure I want to start the surgical program next year,” Kate confessed, looking at him almost as if apologizing. She didn’t notice she avoided his gaze and looked down as she continued, “I was thinking and maybe I…”

“You want to apply to a different program, don’t you?” Thomas read her with an understanding smile. “Dermatology, is it?”

Kate looked appalled.

“How do you know?” she asked, torn between relief and shock.

Thomas chuckled, kissing the tip of her nose.

“I’ve known you all my life,” he pointed out. “I was there with you while we were getting our education. I think I can safely say I have a good grasp on what makes you happy,” he explained understandingly. “I think surgery isn’t one of those things.”

It was clear on Thomas’ tone that he didn’t mind it one bit and Kate picked up on it too.

“Katie, the idea of you choosing your own medical specialty seems perfectly reasonable to me. I know we made plans all our life to become surgeons, but plans change, we saw that. You don’t have to be worried about disappointing me,” he looked into her eyes, knowing that even though Kate hadn’t said it, she was probably bothered with the idea. He hoped that since they’d already covered him, they were finally getting to the bottom of what had been bothering her too for the last few months. “And now that we’ve made it clear it clear I won’t love you any less if you become a dermatologist,” he teased her, nudging his nose against her face. Kate could foresee the many jokes and teasing remarks that would invariably come for the rest of her life if she chose that specialty. “I think it’s time that youare comfortable with discarding surgery from your life too,” Thomas wisely added, pulling her in for quiet, comforting hug that was truly all the support Kate needed to go on with her decision.

.

When music class began, Megan was anxiously waiting at her seat hoping that JD wouldn’t skip it. She wanted to apologize for the uncalled cruel attack in his direction earlier that morning, which had only served to make the girl feel even worse about herself.

As Megan tried to get her feelings in order, she watched as the boy at last arrived and took his usual seat opposite to her. She expected JD to be mad, or even to plainly ignore her, making it more difficult for the girl to reach out to him. But to her surprise, he treated her with courteous simplicity throughout the period, asking Megan to please pass him the folder with the music sheets as Mrs. Julian happily explained a few notes using a whiteboard and then even thanked her when Megan picked from the floor the pencil he’d accidentally dropped as they were gathering their stuff to leave.

More perplexed than ever, the girl tried to study his expression but JD’s closed off façade reminded her of the way he used to act when they’d first met. It was as if he had distanced himself from the world and nothing could get to him anymore.

What Megan had said about his parents rejecting him had been a cruel, absolutely dreadful attack and she knew it. Especially because the girl had no idea why JD had really been sent to live with his grandma in the first place. The mere idea of her own parents rejecting her made Megan sick to her stomach and she hated herself for using something about JD’s past against him, especially when she didn’t even know what was true or not. The notion that his current behavior, shutting down again in what felt like a step back might have everything to do with him being hurt by her words filled Megan with shame.

“Are you okay?”

His question was Megan’s undoing and for a moment, she forgot about the other students who were on a hurry to leave the classroom or even about the teacher, who was still picking up her things from her desk.

“Why are you being so nice to me?” Megan had to bit her lower lip to control her emotions. She had never felt guiltier in her life than she did now. “I was horrible to you. I don’t deserve it.”

JD seemed surprised by her question, but not really affected. He shrugged with disregard before simply stating as he put the guitar he’d used back in its place.

“I am not being nice to you,” he explained. JD was doing his best to keep it civil but he had stopped trying to hold a conversation with Megan, or even pester her anymore. “I am pretty sure you said what you said in an attempt to get to me,” he made eye contact with her as he spoke. “But it doesn’t mean that it is any less true,” JD added. He admired the fact that Megan spoke her mind, unlike most people. At least she was honest, so he had to respect that. No matter how awful the truth was. “So I am respecting your wishes and from now on, I won’t bother you anymore.”

At that point, everyone else had left the classroom and Megan found herself alone with the boy.

“Surely you don’t believe that,” she blocked the way, stopping him from exiting. “It’s not true, really!” Megan insisted, watching as he tried to go around her to get to the door. “I didn’t mean what I said! You can’t honestly think it’s true,” Megan’s breathing got heavier as she grew horrified with the idea of him actually believing it.

JD stopped at his tracks and looked deeply into her eyes, studying her expression. He was starting to believe that his demise bothered Megan more than it bothered him, but he didn’t want to fool himself into once again think she was actually any different from anyone else he’d ever met.

“Why do you care, anyway,” JD shook his head, too fed up with everyone to have any energy to deal with it. “Please, get out of the way, I don’t want to push you,” he added unable to disguise his irritation.

Megan stood up to the guy, frantically trying to make him listen and most of all, believe her.

“JD,” she held him by the arm when he tried to go around her. “You have to believe me,” Megan insisted. “I don’t mean what I said.”

The boy hesitated for a moment, but took a deep breath, regaining control.

“Which part?”

His question surprised Megan and she frowned, visibly confused with his unexpected comeback. The girl had spoken about his parents not wanting him around and then about herself sharing the same desire. It was very important for JD to know which part exactly she hadn’t meant.

“What do you mean, which part?” the girl tried to process what he was saying. “Any of it, I didn’t mean any of what I said.”

JD studied her blue eyes, defensively looking for hints of why he shouldn’t trust her or believe anything she was saying. But Megan seemed honest and the realization bothered and infuriated him because it would just be easier to hate her than to process what he was feeling right now.

“Yes, you are right, Megan, they didn’t want me around,” JD furiously hissed, building every wall around his heart that Megan had somehow managed to overcome without him knowing. “Is that what you wanted to know? That my father kicked me out after my mother died because he couldn’t stand me? Is that what you meant? Because like always, you were right, Miss Perfect,” JD’s jaw was clenched as he looked at Megan with so much built up anger and hurt that for a moment she was actually afraid he might say or do something irreversibly stupid. “But you know what, that’s fine. I am fine. I am through with him. I can live with that, alright?” the boy glared at her, hating to feel so vulnerable at her every movement. JD had long before decided not to let anyone else have this kind of power over him but before he could control or contain it, Megan Hunt had developed the ability to hurt his feelings and the notion infuriated him. He didn’t even know how she had managed to do it, but there the girl was, getting under his skin. “But don’t bullshit me, okay? Not you,” he looked deeply into her eyes, leaning over the girl with an intimidating glance that only made Megan realize the full extent of his pain. “Don’t come to me saying one thing and then say you didn’t mean any of it just because you have a guilty conscience,” JD pushed it, firing every word. “It only makes me lose my respect for your honesty. I don’t want and I don’t need your pity,” he looked deeply into her eyes, watching as Megan was shocked with each word that left his mouth.

The girl’s face showed just how shocked she was. Megan felt her heart aching in her chest, hating that she had so many times been so horrible to him. His entire behavior made so much more sense now… How he kept everyone at a safe distance, the way he pushed people away the moment they got too close. Megan had once called him a cliché and yet she had been the one who’d failed to see the obvious.

“I didn’t know that,” Megan kept on trying to make him stay, knowing that the more she pushed it, the more he would probably get angry and snap. “I didn’t know about your dad or your mom… I am so sorry,” the girl added.

JD shook his head, as if disregarding her words.

“Yeah, like I said, I don’t need your pity,” he scowled and forcefully got out of her grasp, walking into the hallway despite Megan’s attempts to make him stay.

It felt like her heart was breaking in tiny pieces when Megan lost control over the situation and had to watch him walk away, knowing that there was a big chance he might never speak to her again. The notion devastated her. JD was annoying and frustrating, but Megan had just found out how much she really cared about him.

The boy was already half way through the corridor when muffled sobs reached his ears.

Usually, the sound of a girl crying wasn’t enough to invoke any feeling in him other than annoyance mixed with impatience. But strangely enough, despite his best effort to think Megan’s display of emotion was fake, JD couldn’t believe it in his heart that she was actually making a scene or pretending to feel something she didn’t, especially when she had no idea she could be heard.

Megan was still curled up on her seat with her face buried between her legs trying to contain the sound of her cries when she felt a warm hand rubbing her back in a soothing caress. When the girl brought her face up, it was with shock that she found intense green eyes staring back at her.

“Don’t cry,” JD pleaded, feeling his heart constrict by the sight of her face drowning in tears. Seeing her hurting affected him more than he thought it ever could. “You can call me names and tell me to go to go hell or whatever but please, just don’t cry.”

Megan slowly raised her head and noticed he had his eyes closed as he said the words, in an attempt to get control of his emotions. Once again, they had had a big fight, possibly the worst one they’d ever had and even though she was the one to blame and the one who’d said the most hurtful things, it was JD who was trying to comfort her.

Grabbing his hand to stop him from walking away again in the eventuality he might try, Megan decided to ignore all her confusion and opened her heart.

“I was very angry with you when I said all those horrible things, but it had nothing do with you,” she confessed, using her free hand to dry her eyes. “It wasn’t your fault. Truth is… Aaron dumped me,” the girl tilted her head to the side and shrugged, helpless in face of the situation. “And I blamed you for it because he blamed you for it,” Megan tried to make sense of things. “It was wrong of me and I shouldn’t have done it. I shouldn’t have let you get to my head again. You didn’t deserve it. I am sorry.”

JD nodded his head, accepting her apology but it was the content of her confession that caught his attention the most, rather than the apology.

“I am sorry that he gave you up,” JD smiled, using his knuckles to wipe a remaining tear from her face. When Megan stared back at him with those big blue eyes that resembled two moons, he smiled with amusement. “I always thought he was too insecure for you, anyway,” the boy teased out of habit and because he didn’t know how else to deal with the impending avalanche of emotions that followed the information Megan had just shared. “I’ll tell you what… If you’re okay with my company now, I will consider buying you ice cream.”

“Don’t joke about that,” Megan censored him, still feeling horrible about what she’d said, even though she had already clarified she hadn’t meant it.

“You also have to do something about that face because you look horrible,” JD smirked, much more comfortable with teasing and provoking her, especially now that she was slowly getting back to acting like herself once he’d criticized her appearance. “I don’t want to be seen around you if you look like that,” JD added, putting both hands inside his jacket pockets while throwing Megan a side glance to hide his smile.

“You’re an asshole,” Megan decided, smoothing her hair in an attempt to fix her looks. “It’s me who should be buying you ice cream, you know, Justin, because since you have no friends, you…”

“Shut up,” JD interrupted her with a chuckle.

He waited until the girl gathered her things and then finally opened the door to what he hoped wasn’t only the exit to the music classroom, but also the start of a better relationship with Megan.

.

Emily felt the first thin droplets of the rain hitting her face and wrapped her coat tightly around her body. The cold weather in November wasn’t unusual in Seattle, but something about the open field next to the Stadium area made it seem like the wind was chillier than ever.

Or maybe the way she was shivering had more to do with the conversation she was about to have than with the air temperature.

When Lucas left the training area inside the stadium towards the parking lot, he immediately noticed the short woman standing next to his car. His teammates kept talking about their upcoming match on the weekend, but Lucas wasn’t listening to them anymore. His eyes were focused on the auburn haired girl who looked more adorable than ever nearly disappearing beneath a caramel cashmere scarf and an elegant knitted hat.

After saying goodbye to the other athletes, Lucas went in her direction, noticing how she rubbed her gloved hands together after blowing on them, trying to get warm. There had to be a reason why Emily was waiting for him outside and with one peek, he could figure out why.

Next to her, he saw on the floor a small carry-on wheeled piece of luggage and a matching handbag. It was obvious she was going somewhere and Lucas didn’t have to think very hard to know where.

“I’ve been trying to call you,” he finally stopped walking in her direction and stood a few feet away from the journalist, facing her. Despite his serious tone, Lucas’ expression was friendly.

“Yeah, I know.”

“You didn’t give me a chance to apologize for what I did.”

“I know,” Emily repeated, this time with an apologetic nod. For the past couple of days, ever since Lucas’ childish discussion with Peter in her mother’s house she had been ignoring his attempts to get in touch with her. Her ex-fiancé had left to New York just hours after the incident, but it wasn’t until today that Emily was finally going back to the city too. “I am sorry I didn’t call you back.”

“What’s changed?” Lucas asked, looking from the depth of her eyes to the bags and then to the girl again.

Emily seemed hesitant and even a little guilty before she opened her mouth to explain.

“I came to say goodbye.”

It wasn’t all there was to it and Emily knew it. Truth was, if she’d allowed herself to answer one of Lucas’ calls or even agree to see him before she left, she wasn’t so sure anymore that she’d go on with her resolution to leave with such determination, or at least so much certainty.

The journalist was still very angry at the way Lucas had discussed with Peter, and even more upset at how he’d spoken about their first time together as if using that to compete with the guy. But after cooling her head and processing the whole situation, Emily couldn’t help but realize that it hadn’t been until Peter had wrongfully given the impression they had spent the night together that Lucas had turned into a dick.

Lucas had expressed his desire that Emily didn’t leave, but she knew that even though his intentions were the best, there were simply no guarantees about anything. The only thing concrete was that he was experiencing amazing success playing for his childhood team, the one he’d always dreamed of playing for, whilst Emily’s source of stability and solidness remained in New York, the place where she had a steady job and a career of her own. Other than that, every other line was too blurry to risk anything.

And yet, Lucas still didn’t know that she had called off her engagement. Even though she had her mind made up about leaving, Emily wanted to be good terms with him and hopefully keep in touch if possible. And she also couldn’t get herself to leave Seattle, quite possibly for good this time around, without so much as saying goodbye.

Judging by the look on his face, the confession that she’d come to say goodbye seemed to hit him pretty hard and the realization made Emily want to give in to tears.

“I am so proud of you,” she heard her own voice and involuntarily reached for his hand, grasping it between hers with a mix of affection and joy. Lucas saw through the tears that were now building up on her eyes, but it was her genuine smile that touched him the most. “You’ve made it so far and I….” Emily’s voice faltered as she embraced his hand against her chest, sniffing soundly. “I never doubted you would,” the girl raised her hazel eyes to meet his and smiled between tears. “I always knew.”

Lucas noticed how much she was struggling. The context they were in was so bittersweet that it made his heart pound inside his chest. That moment felt too much like a goodbye and in as much as he hated to think it might be the last time he would see Emily, he couldn’t help but feel touched by the meaning of what she was saying.

Emily had always believed in him. When very few people had… when he himself hadn’t. Back when they were seventeen, with all her strength and bright light, Emily had made Lucas discover his own worth and believe that he could take control of his life. As a result, he’d followed his dreams and five years later there he was living the life he’d always thought about having.

Except Emily wasn’t in it.

“You’re not doing too bad yourself, you know,” Lucas couldn’t contain a smile and teased her when Emily gave in to tears and hid her face on his chest. He wrapped both arms around her tightly before whispering against the soft fabric of her knitted hat. “The exception is that no one is surprised,” he added with a mischievous voice.

“Don’t berate yourself,” Emily censored him disapprovingly.

“Don’t use words like berate,” Lucas replied in a lighthearted tone, smiling with affection at how clearly emotional she was. It was obvious Emily was having a hard time leaving, but he didn’t plan to make it any easier for her.

The sound of her sheepish laughter filled his heart with love and Lucas took both his hands to the sides of her face, rubbing her cheeks with his thumbs as he gently forced eye contact with the girl.

“I am sorry about what I said to your fiancé,” he said to his dismay. Lucas hated relinquishing Emily, but he also didn’t want her to stay if she wanted to be with another guy. As painful as it was, he would just have to learn to deal with the rejection. “I didn’t mean to be such an asshole.”

“You were ridiculous,” Emily rolled her eyes, thinking back about his childish demeanor. Even though Lucas had done something as scandalous as saying to her ex-fiancé that he had been the first guy in her life in the middle of what should have been a civil conversation, the fact he’d pulled that stunt also didn’t surprise her. “And Peter is not my fiancé anymore,” she finally confessed. “I called off my engagement.”

Lucas took in the information, waiting for her to say something more while he analyzed whether or not he’d heard it correctly.

“You’re not marrying that guy anymore?” he asked with a frown, trying to process what it meant not just for Emily, but for them as well. “What happened?”

Emily seemed to read his mind because she splayed both hands on his chest and looked deeply into his eyes.

“I realized so many things,” she smiled between tears. “It feels as if… As if once again, you walked into my life and you helped me see the light,” the journalist closed her eyes with force, struggling not to give into tears. “I wasn’t happy and when you asked me that question, it really made me think and find out the truth.”

Lucas smoothed a few loose locks of hair from her face and placed them behind her shoulder.

“And now you are?” he asked with genuine interest. “Now you’re happy?”

“I am trying to be,” Emily nodded, determined to chase that resolution. “It feels like I am getting there, anyway… I am trying to figure out what to do and the first thing was cutting out of my life the things that are notmaking me happy,” she explained. “My engagement was one of them. Now I have to get back to the job I love and have stability in my career again,” the journalist added. The uncertainty of not having a steady job was really unsettling for her and knowing about her background and the family she had been raised in, Lucas could easily guess why.

“Don’t leave,” the athlete wrapped both his arms around her waist, desperately trying to get her to stay. “I know you have a job and I know it might feel like I am asking for too much, but don’t go… We can be happy here. We should be together,” he tried to convince her. “It’s you and I, Emily. It has always been,” Lucas reminded her. Through all the ups and downs, they always found themselves in the same place. “You can go back and forth all you want but you’re always going to end up right here,” Lucas smiled with his eyes closed as he touched his forehead to hers. “And we can figure out together what your happy means.”

Emily sniffed, genuinely torn. God, why did it have to be so hard… so damn near impossible?

On one hand, there was stability, the prospect of going back to a job she really loved and the safety of an apartment she had made for herself. On another, there was the risk of staying and giving up everything that was certain for the prospect of being happy with Lucas.

And even though being happy with him represented and was worth a whole lot more to Emily than everything else combined, it was exactly the risk of it all that scared the hell out of her. Sometimes it was better to have what was certain than to risk everything and end up with nothing at all. Life had taught her that the hardest of ways.

“You have made me so happy already,” Emily smiled and touched the side of his face, rubbing it affectionately. It was true. No one had made her happier in a lifetime. “I love you. I have always loved you and I always will,” the girl noticed how Lucas’ eyes sparkled with her confession. He was right. It didn’t matter how much she avoided it or tried to deny it. He was the one and probably would always be. Even if they weren’t meant to be together. Unable to help herself, Emily stood on the tip of her toes and kissed him on the lips longingly. “But I can’t stay.”

When she pulled apart, Lucas searched in her eyes for an answer but found only heartbreak and something that resembled regret. Emily had always been rational, too much for her own good. Sometimes, it was better not to think about things but rather just to feel them.

Encouraged by that thought, Lucas once again rubbed his lips against hers in what began as a gentle caress but quickly became a deep kiss as soon as Emily relaxed in his arms. He felt the tight grasp of her hands around his neck as Emily stood on the tip of her toes to mold her body to his when Lucas pulled her against him.

Emily knew that letting Lucas kiss her like that wasn’t a good idea and would probably only make it harder for her to leave. But how on Earth was she supposed to resist it when all she wanted was to kiss him back with the same passion?

And God, how long had it been since all her senses had been ignited like that? One kiss… that was all it had taken… Just one kiss and it felt like Emily had found her happy place again.

The thin droplets of rain slowly became thicker and before they had the time to make sense of things, a heavy shower was pouring on their heads. Lucas looked around and noticed most cars in the parking lot had already left, which meant they’d been there for a while now.

“I am not going back to New York because of my job,” Emily affirmed with conviction as she reluctantly pulled apart. She hoped that he at least knew that much. Maybe someday she would be able to reconsider turning her life around but right now, she needed the stability she could only find back in the city she had built her life in. It was getting late and she should probably get going to the airport if she didn’t want to miss her flight. They were soaking wet now and her teeth were chattering from the cold. “I hope you know that.”

“I am not sure I am in any condition to rightfully think through anything right now,” Lucas confessed honestly, running a hand through his hair with frustration, noticing how wet he was.

He wanted very much to believe Emily and he supposed deep down he did, but it just hurt so much to accept that she wasn’t going to stay that Lucas had to hold onto to some kind of excuse not feel like he was really being left behind.

“And I didn’t sleep with Peter.”

At her random confession, Lucas raised his head, making eye contact with the girl. Emily read the question on his face and explained.

“I know it’s not relevant for my decision to leave but…” Emily hesitated, embarrassed. “I just thought you should know that.”

Even though he was still devastated about her inevitable departure, Lucas was very satisfied to learn that Emily hadn’t spent the night in her ex-fiancé’s arms. Like he’d suspected and hoped, ever since they’d reconnected, their feelings had come to surface and just like him, she probably hadn’t felt the desire to be with anyone else ever since.

“You know, I don’t get it,” Lucas said as he watched Emily hailing a cab on the street next to them.  As the first yellow cab pulled over, the journalist stacked her luggage inside of it, making Lucas’ heart shatter all over again when he realized it really was goodbye. “You said you broke things off with that guy but you’re going to New York anyway… And I know you have a life there and it is a lot more than just him,” Lucas explained, nodding his head in denial. A mix of jealousy, disappointment and heartbreak was getting the best of him but it was the lack of control over the situation that really made him feel powerless and deeply hurt. “After everything we’ve been through this past couple of months… It just feels like you are choosing him,” Lucas added, hating himself for thinking that since Emily was going back to the same city as the guy, he was going to have the chance to maybe reconnect with her while Lucas was getting left behind.

“I am not choosing him, Luke,” Emily affirmed with conviction before she kissed him on the lips one more time and got into a cab to finally board a plane to New York. Her eyes were still filled with tears and apprehension when she added with the fierce determination that was so typical of her. “I am choosing me.”

--

If you want to torture yourself, this is the song that put me in the vibe to write the last scene. 

[alexlovestarjeiandjack]

The Addy and Blaze Chronicles: (Part 1: When I Found You Chapter 1:

Blaze:

 The Mer Palace is a buzz with everyone from my aunties, uncles, cousins. literally everyone I have probably ever met in my life. I told dad I don’t want a party for my sixteenth. I swear I told him that every day since my last birthday, but the message still never got through.

“Blaze,” he would call out my name dramatically. “I want to celebrate your life, because we never know how many years we have left.” Very morbid I know. He’s been that way ever since mum died a year ago. Morbid and an overprotective pain my ass.

It’s like no one else gets to mourn her. its all about what he feels and what he wants. Yes you lost the love of your life dad, but I lost my mum too. I never had the time to grieve for myself because I was always looking after you or running the whole damn kingdom on my own at fifteen, without so much as a “Thank you Blaze.” But somehow old man, you have the strength to throw a whole damn party I didn’t ask for.

Suddenly there’s a knock at my door. Should have figured I couldn’t hide in my room all day.

“Are you done moping around? It’s your birthday for God sake. You ungrateful little brat!” Riva. I can only grunt in response to her taunts.

Apparently we had a falling out when we were kids, I don’t think either of us even remember what it was about. I sure as hell don’t but that’s just the normal for us, we hate and torment each other to no end.

I swim over to my mirror taking my time to push my mess of golden curls off my face. Presentable at most.

“Your dad says he has some big news so you better get your tail down here before I come in there!” Riva is still there? Get a life girl!

I run my hand through my hair one last time and look over the old photos I have stuck on my mirror of mum. My favourite one is the one of me and her on her birthday, just a week before she died. You can tell she was sick but she looked happy. We both did. Dad swore I was all her. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t had time for me all year. No Blaze! We are not doing this now. You are not going out in front of all those people looking like you’re breakable. Because you are not breakable Blaze! Head up! Push on!

 Riva rolls her eyes at me when I finally come out of the room. “Ungrateful.” She mutters under her breath and I shove her out of my way as my tail takes me out to the palace foyer where dad is making small talk with every person I have ever met.

My cousins give me the cold shoulder. But I don’t care. They’re all maybe one or two years younger than I am. And as soon as I didn’t want to partake in their mer-ball and mer-biking, I became invisible to them. But what do I care. I refuse to be held to their medieval gender roles.

“Blazey!”

Blazey? Okay dad has had a few drinks with the uncles that’s normal enough, no need to panic. Yet.

“Happy Birthday my favourite son!” He swishes about as he comes swimming up to me. He’s not a threat till he takes you out with his giant blue tail. So far so good.

“I’m your only son.” I mumble but he hears me anyway.  He laughs.

“Always, with the quick wit but slow with the actual connections to others.” Well that took a turn I wasn’t ready for. A metaphorical tail hit rather than a literal one. My stunned look doesn’t stop him though it never does. He just looks me over like its nothing, waves a dismissive hand and keeps talking. “Which brings me to my news,” He looks between Riva and I with knowing eyes and then back over to Riva’s parents who nod their encouragement.

Oh boy what are they all up to behind my back?? Is there still time to retreat back to my bedroom to my inner sanctum of alone time.

But my dad’s hand on my shoulder tells me its far too late for that.

“I’ve been in discussions with Riva’s parents Joe and Sil. And it is decided that come the eave of Riva’s sixteenth birthday she will be married to Blaze.”

After that time seems to completely stop. My chest tightens and im fighting with everything I have not to pass out. Simutaneously I become aware of everyone’s eyes as they flicker between me and Riva. Some are happy and some are shocked.

Someone, I’m not sure who, says; “Aren’t they a bit young? Yes.

But dad comes back with a reply that I don’t catch and that person doesn’t speak up again. I go back to trying to breath until I feel this rage build up in my stomach and explode out of me. “That is not happening!!” All eyes on me again. Well that what happens when you yell Blaze.

“When I get married, I want to get married because I’m in love.” Yes I’m a sap, I always have been. Is it so wrong that I believe in love? And that I don’t want the usual arranged marriage my people expect of me. And two years early?

The room fills with laughter and snickers, mostly from my cousins who flip the bird too. Dad scolds them and then tells everyone to “quiet down.” Like he’s the one that’s been running the kingdom all year. Like he still holds that power. But sadly he still does and the cousins stop their antics.

 Dad turns on his blue tail so we are face to face.

“Blaze, my son. You know that marriage in this kingdom is an alliance, that’s how it is, Riva is your friend and you will grow to love her.” I know what this is, it’s all a show for everyone here. It’s not for me.

I steal a glance at Riva, she flips her brown ponytail on to her back. Completely unfazed. How can she be so okay with this? It’s at this moment I know I have to get out of here. I swing my red tail and high tail it the hell out of there. I don’t know where I’m going its just got to me away from here.

I hear my father calling out to me but its not too long before it becomes muffled background noise.

I swim past dozens upon dozen’s of houses and sea life. My head is filled with a burning rage that leaks out my eyes and I can feel bile rising on my stomach but I don’t stop. I can’t stop I have to get out of here.

They only way out I can see is to keep swimming until nothing looks familiar anymore. Maybe then I can start a new life. A life that isn’t my father’s idea or what anyone else expects of their mer prince.

That’s what this is. It’s what they expect from me and I just won’t do it. I believe in love! I deserve love. I don’t really know how love feels but I know I want it. My grandparents had it before all of this stupid marriage is for alliance bull shit that my dad started preaching after my grandfather died when I was a kid. I’ve seen love, I’ve seen how it fills someone up and how you don’t have to be alone.

Because as much as I say being alone is my style, my way of life. That’s only because it’s the only life I’ve known.

My thoughts turn to anger at my dad because he knows all of this. Knows how I don’t just connect with other people like he does or anyone else in my family. I’m different. And maybe that is okay? Because when I do find love its going to be remarkable. Like nothing else in the world.

But maybe its all just a boyhood dream that ive concocted in my head. The boyhood dreams of a lonely child perhaps?

But I will never find out if I stay here.

Suddenly I’m pulled out of my trance like state by my tail hitting some coral bushes and that’s when I realise I no longer recognize my surroundings. I’m lost. In a different part of the ocean that I’ve never seen before. And its not all relief there’s some anxiety too because I didn’t take into account how safe or unsafe I’d really be out here.

[thatonelucky]

The Only Girl He Didn’t Hate

Jughead’s woman hating tendencies have left Gladys feeling like he’s never going to grow up. As she starts to push harder and harder at him, he and his best friend, Betty Cooper, devise a plan to throw his mother off completely.

Read on A03

               Sometimes Jughead wondered why he still lived with his mother. His dad would never force this kind of attitude on him, he taught him to embrace how he felt. But what Gladys thought was right just had to be right. Like Jughead taking off his beanie every once in a while or getting a girlfriend.

               Girls weren’t Jughead’s strong suit; he was the woman hater of the nation. No woman would ever slip into his life and tear it apart. Girls were a waste of time and girls were too needy. Jughead was a self-identified loner; he doesn’t do well with clinginess and love. He never had a good representation of love growing up. Gladys and FP fought every day for years until they finally decided to divorce.

               The only girl that Jughead had ever bothered with was Betty Cooper. Not by choice, of course. Betty had somehow wormed her way into his life, always radiating sunshine in the darkest of days. Funnily enough, Betty was the exact opposite of what Jughead thought himself as. He was the darkness and the plague of sadness. Betty Cooper, however, was nowhere near it.

               Betty was the golden haired cheerleader that everyone fell in love with. She could light up an entire city with just one smile. Her preppy and peppy attitude was almost infectious. Almost being the key word. Jughead had to admit, he would often find himself naturally smiling around her, but more often than not, he kept his signature grimace. He had a reputation to uphold.

               Their friendship hadn’t started on the best of terms, that being completely Jughead’s fault. Being paired up for an English assignment and having one half of the pair do nothing at all was completely frustrating. It’s not that Jughead didn’t want to help; he just hated the idea behind the assignment so refused to do it. He almost got away with staying in that frame of mind until Betty showed up at his door, refusing to leave until he finished off what he had started.

               He should’ve felt mildly irritated by her presence, like he is with all company. However, Betty had a certain way about her that left Jughead confronted by his own emotions betraying him. He found himself wanting to spend more time with her, a feeling of warmth drawing him in. Betty didn’t complain; truthfully Jughead was the only person who saw her as more than just a pretty girl in a short skirt.

               That’s how their meetings became more frequent. Betty would go to Jughead’s house and either help him with his homework or help to babysit his baby sister, Jellybean. Jughead was never too big on people asking questions about his family. But watching Betty make Jellybean’s smile reach her eyes, he found himself telling her everything.

               Betty had confided in Jughead for the first time on Polly’s birthday. She hadn’t spoken to anyone about Polly, brushing off any comment as a rumour. Truth being that Polly had fell pregnant and run away with her high school sweetheart, Jason Blossom, without so much as a goodbye. Betty had told Jughead about her parents and how controlling they were. How it was driving her crazy.

               That’s how they became the talk of the school, the most unlikely duo coming together. Sitting together at lunch instead of at separate tables, moving seats in classes to be next to each other and even walking home from school together. Needless to say, everyone in Riverdale High was 100% sure that they were together.

               Gladys was absolutely besotted with Betty and rightly so. Betty would be at Jughead’s house almost every single day. She would force Jughead to help with the cleaning and very often she would join in herself. Gladys was sure she was an angel sent from heaven for Betty Cooper could not be real. Sometimes Jughead had that thought too.

               “You will not believe what my mother did this time!” Jughead came storming into the Blue and Gold offices, clearly vexed about something that had happened previous. Betty had been sat at her desk, typing up the final scores for the Bulldogs last away game for the paper. They hadn’t done as well as expected, which of course was a shame seeing as she knew how hard Archie and Reggie trained the team.

               “Let me guess, threw away your hidden tin of rare Pokémon cards.” Betty tried not to laugh at the ludicrous story he had told her last week. For a 17 year old boy, he was very invested in his Pokémon card collection. He scoffed at her remark, sending over a glare as he threw himself onto the couch. Clearly he wasn’t in the mood for jokes.

               “No, worse. Way worse. She tried to set me up on a play date with Ethel Muggs!” Jughead threw his head back in frustration. His mother had been trying to set him up for weeks now, demanding that he at least needs to give it a go before he declares his hatred of girls to the entire world.

               “To be fair, Jug, she’s only helping you explore your options before you write them off completely.” Betty defended Gladys, knowing her only intentions were to see her son happy. Betty had many secret conversations with Gladys whilst waiting for Jughead to get home from work. They often spoke about how they were both feeling; Jughead’s mother acted more like a mother to Betty than Alice did.

               “Why can’t she just accept that I hate every woman except from her, Jellybean and you?” Jughead groaned, propping his head up on the side of the couch and staring at Betty who was still typing away at her laptop. She’d had this conversation with Jughead all too many times. “What if I could get her off of my back some way?” Betty instantly stopped typing, knowing where this was going. Jughead’s teasing voice could only mean one thing.

               “Are you suggesting what I think you are?” Betty smirked slightly, amused by how desperate Jughead was acting just so that he could be alone forever. He stepped up from the couch and walked around behind Betty’s desk. Getting down on one knee, he dramatically inhaled.

               “Betty Cooper, will you make me the happiest man alive and be my fake girlfriend?” Jughead declared, speaking a little louder than he normally would’ve. Betty laughed out loud, falling back in her chair. She was at a loss here; she wouldn’t be able to let down her best friend. It didn’t have to be for too long anyways.

               “Jughead Jones, it would be an honour.” Betty too, spoke dramatically; an essence of innocence in the lining of this completely idiotic plan. Jughead gave Betty a quick wink before whipping out his phone and facetiming Gladys, who picked up on the 3rd ring.

               “Mom! She said yes!” Jughead exclaimed to his mother who Betty could hear was far too happy on the other line. She started to feel bad about this whole idea, giving Gladys false hope just so Jughead could go free. “Okay, see you at 7!” He swiftly ended the call, turning to Betty with a cocky smirk.

               “You asshole! This was all planned! You’re going to leave all the explaining to me?” Betty stood quickly and smacked her beanie wearing friend in the arm. He retaliated almost instantly, grabbing her arm before it could come in contact with his body. She would’ve been impressed if she wasn’t being crushed by the crippling worry of how Gladys was going to react if she messed up.

               Betty had come accustom to being at Jughead’s house more than her own, she didn’t want to lose that by upsetting Gladys. Gladys was special to Betty now, like a 2nd mother. Jughead knew this and understood how much Betty relied on his family. He also knew Betty too well to know how uncomfortable she was feeling.

               “Hey, Betts. Look I’ll call in sick if you really want me to but Pop is counting on me tonight.” Jughead crouched down, reaching Betty’s level and grabbed her hands. He stroked his thumb over the back of her knuckles, hoping to give her some form of comfort. The truth is, he only made sure he had work today just so he could avoid any awkward conversations.

               “It’s okay, she won’t expect us to do anything weird.” Betty attempted to calm herself down, knowing that there was no way it was going to happen. Gladys had spoken to Betty before about dating Jughead and truthfully she wasn’t against the idea. But she knew that Jughead had never looked at a girl in that way before. He seemed to like being single and that’s good for him. Betty was pretty sure he was aromantic but his mother wasn’t fond on that idea.

               That’s how Betty found herself sat on the Jones’s couch with a cup of hot chocolate and Gladys going on and on about how happy she was. Betty wanted to be happy knowing how excited Gladys was that Betty could be a legal part of the family one day. She’d always been considered a daughter to Gladys anyways but she’d expected to be having this conversation when the real day came. But it was never going to come.

               “I’m just so happy Betty darling; I always hoped that Jughead’s heart was set on you. You’re the most incredible young lady I’ve ever met.” Gladys stroked Betty’s hair, feeling a comfort with two out of three of her favourite people cuddled into her side. Jellybean on one side and Betty on the other.

               It wasn’t unusual for Betty to lean into Gladys’s side. Betty had found herself like that most nights when Jughead was working late. Whilst talking about what crazy meltdown her mother had that morning or what Cheryl decided to torment her with that day always left Betty so deflated. Gladys was especially good at cheering her up. This is why she could tell that Betty didn’t seem as excited as she was letting on.

               “I’m so sorry, Gladys.” Betty spoke quietly, a stray tear falling from her eye as she cuddled closer. Gladys continued stroking her hair, her heart breaking a little bit at the sadness laced in Betty’s voice.

               “I know, honey. You look very deflated today, is that why?” Gladys’s words cut deep in Betty’s heart and before she knew it she was doing what she always does, spilling her heart out for Gladys, who sat with open ears. Betty spoke about how she thought that this day would come once Jughead had decided he didn’t hate girls anymore or when she had the courage to tell Jughead how she really felt.

               “Betts, I don’t know what Jug did to deserve you.” Jellybean spoke quietly, her eyes fixed on the TV in front of her. Jellybean rarely intervened when Betty was upset as she had no idea what to say. She was only 11 at this point. She was too young to understand relationships and feelings but she knew Betty very well.

               “Thank you, Jelly. But I feel like it’s the other way around.” Betty deprecated, feeling a dull ache in her heart. Gladys was still silently stroking her hair, trying to find the words to justify her son’s actions. She had none.

               “I only pushed him so that maybe he’d realise what he had already.” Gladys pulled Betty a little closer. “You.” Betty perked up slightly at her words, pride running through her veins. Gladys had always approved of Betty being in Jughead’s life but she always wanted it to be more and she was sure that Jughead did too.

               A few weeks ago she had found some of Jughead’s writing and was so sure it was about Betty. He was explaining love but the blonde hair and the emerald eyes that he so deeply explained couldn’t have been anyone else. She wanted to tell Betty but her meddling hadn’t done any good so far and she likes having Betty around.

               Once Jughead had come home, he was welcomed by the warm sight of his 3 favourite girls cuddled up on the couch watching some cheesy romantic movie on Netflix. Betty looked happier than when he last saw her which he took as a good sign. Upon his arrival, Gladys had ushered herself and Jellybean out of the room and up the stairs into Jelly’s room. She gave Jughead a quick kiss on the cheek before she walked up the stairs, throwing Betty a quick wink.

               Gladys had told Betty to talk to Jughead about how she felt, adamant that he would rather find out from her than anyone else. Betty hadn’t expected Jughead to reappreciate the feelings that she had, so there was nothing she could lose. She knew he wouldn’t cut her off because of it; he wasn’t like that.

               “Jug, can I talk to you for a minute?” Betty stood up, wiping her palms nervously against her jeans. Suddenly, she felt like she was the size of an ant under Jughead’s intense and confused stare. He nodded his head and sat in the chair across from her.

               Jughead deemed this as the moment where Betty Cooper was officially going to realize that he isn’t good enough for her and cut him off. He’d been fearing it for a long while now, not trusting how smooth things were going for him right now.  The slight quiver in his body signalled for Betty to say something.

               “Are you dropping me?” Jughead spoke quietly, the evident crack in his voice showing just how insecure he was feeling in that moment. Betty wanted to be fast at responding but she didn’t know how. “Betts, please don’t leave me.” Betty risked a look at Jughead’s face only to see he already had a salty trail of tears lining his face.

               “Are you crazy? Juggie, that’s the very last thing I want to do.” Betty found a stroke of courage, reaching over his cradled body to wipe away some of the tears that were still leaking from his eyes. He was usually quick to catch her hand, attempting to prevent her from smashing any of his masculinity. But this time he let her comfort him. “I can’t go through with the plan, I can’t pretend.”

               Jughead’s heart still deflated a little bit at her words. He’d wanted to at least pretend his dreams could come true. That Betty could really find someone like Jughead a worthy match for her. She fit into his life too perfectly. Something had to go wrong at some point.

               “Uh, yeah. Yeah, that’s cool.” Jughead sniffled, moving away from Betty’s hands and leaning back in the chair. He couldn��t act like he wasn’t disappointed. He was thoroughly disappointed. “Yeah, we can just go back to how it was.” Jughead didn’t want that to happen at all.

               “I don’t want that either.” Betty spoke slowly, she felt Jughead stiffen at her words. She knew he was going to take it the wrong way. His eyes hardened as he went to say something but never got the chance. Betty pressed a soft kiss to Jughead’s lips in an effort to silence him. She tore herself away from him a second after, thoroughly embarrassed that she had pulled a stunt like that on someone who trusted her. Jughead was silent.

               “I’m so sorry.” Betty rushed out, flying up and gathering her stuff. She needed to get out right now; she couldn’t be around Jughead right now. With that, she ran out. She couldn’t go home and she couldn’t stay with Jughead. The only place she could go was Veronica’s. She felt truly alone in that moment, walk the streets only 5 minutes away from where her heart was laying on the floor.

               “Betty!” She heard her name being called in the distance, not expecting it to be Jellybean who had obviously heard what had happened and ran after Betty. Betty spun around, quickly wiping her face. Once Jelly had approached Betty, she wrapped her arms around the blonde, trying to give her some form of comfort. “Please come back, Jughead’s really sad.” Betty felt saddened by that comment, wanting to go and comfort her friend.

               “How about I walk you home and we’ll see what happens.” Betty tugged Jellybean into her side, walking with her to the house she had just run from. Jelly didn’t let go of Betty until they were stood at the Jones’ front door.

               “Mom, I have Betty.” Jelly opened the door, revealing a sight that truly broke Betty into pieces. She had caused this. Jughead was curled up on the couch with Gladys who looked extremely frustrated. When her eyes landed on Betty, a small smile etched across her face. Jughead’s head snapped up at Jellybean’s words. He stood up immediately.

               “Can you guys give us a minute?” Jughead walked over to Betty, pulling her into the house and shutting the door behind her. She didn’t bother resisting, this conversation had to come one day. She couldn’t run away. Gladys took Jelly’s hand, leading her up the stairs yet again to her room. There was no silence after they’d left.

               “Did you mean it?” Jughead spoke with weary eyes. Betty fidgeted for a minute, wanting to say no but instead she nodded. Lying wouldn’t do anything but make matter worse. “Thank fuck.” Jughead embraced both sides of Betty’s face, swallowing hard. “Betty, you’re the only girl I don’t hate.” Just then, he leaned in and captured her mouth with his own. There was hesitation at first, but when Betty started to kiss back he pressed a little harder. Pulling away, Betty beamed up at Jughead.

               “I don’t hate you too.” She spoke quietly against his lips, feeling drunk on her own emotions. They spoke about a lot that night, how they felt and how they could act on it. Gladys slept in her bed knowing that her son was happily laying downstairs with the girl of his dreams. The only girl he didn’t hate.

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