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snowdice · 3 years

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Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 66]

I started writing this fic while editing my Big Bang story, but am going to continue doing it for other things now that Kill Dear is out. I will write and publish 100 words of the story every time I finish doing whatever task I’m doing. If you’d like to block these proceedings, please feel free to block the tag proofread stories. I will reblog this post with the parts of the story I do today. Edited chapters are linked; everything else I’ve done so far is under the cut.

My Master Post Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29

It’s editing time for me because I have not edited in way too long. I am so behind on the Study Fic and this one. Oof. Also I should do some blog organization maybe.

Chapter 30

After lunch, Patton and Logan took Virgil out to the garden to walk around. They let Virgil lead them around wherever he wanted to go in the garden. A bunch more flowers had died since the last time they’d been out here, and Patton felt sad despite having never felt very sad about that sort of thing before. But, Virgil seemed to really like the flower he’d found last time, so Patton thought he was probably sad on the boy’s behalf.

Of course, Patton thought, perking up, eventually it would be spring, and Virgil could get to not only see some flowers but all of the flowers as they grew. Patton couldn’t wait to see him amongst the garden then.

Virgil took them wandering through the orchard for a while, but most of the trees had been stripped of their fruits and the leaves were beginning to fall off some. They ended up in the vegetable garden after a bit, and Virgil finally seemed to decide on a direction instead of just ambling about.

A few seconds after Patton noticed Virgil seemingly decide on a destination, Patton noticed Mr. Deknis kneeling on the ground a few feet away. Had… had Virgil been looking for him? Patton wondered. That was adorable.

Mr. Deknis looked up as they approached and smiled at them.

“Hello, Mr. Deknis,” Patton said as they came closer.

“Hello you three,” Mr. Deknis said. “Getting into trouble?”

“No,” Virgil said, shaking his head.

Mr. Deknis gave him a flash of a smile. “I know, I’m joking,” he said. “Especially since there isn’t much left in my gardens for certain princes to destroy with experiments.”

“Oh, okay,” Virgil said. He tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting the last of the acorn squash out,” Mr. Deknis replied. “It’s the last crop to get finished. Good thing too, it’s supposed to start snowing soon.”

Virgil looked down curiously at the dark green squash.

“Would you like to help me pick a couple?” Mr. Deknis asked.

“Sure,” Virgil said, sounding interested. Mr. Deknis patted the ground beside him, and Virgil knelt down to watch him.

“They’re not too difficult to harvest,” he said. “You just cut the fruit off the stem. You want to leave about a hand’s width of the stem left over which will help preserve moisture. The earlier harvests I left in the field to cure in the sun for a couple weeks, but the frost’ll ruin these, so we’ll take them inside the green house and let them sit in the sun for a bit there. We also want to keep the leaves. You’ll probably be eating those for dinner tonight since they have to be cooked up within about 24 hours after they’re picked. Patton’s mom makes a good side dish with them and she’ll be making some curry tomorrow, probably. Maybe some stew if there are some left over. Put the squash in this wheelbarrow and the leaves into this pile, okay?” Virgil nodded and Mr. Deknis handed him the extra pair of gloves and shears he carried with him in case one set broke. “These might be a bit big on you, but they should work for now.”

Mr. Deknis looked up at Patton and Logan. “Would the two of you like to help?” he asked. “I can get some more equipment.”

“I can help out if you want, but you don’t need to stop and get more equipment just for me,” Patton said.

“The same for me,” Logan said.

“Well, if you’d like to help still, you can sort the leave. Give your mother a head start.”

“Sure,” Patton said. He and Logan went to do that while Mr. Deknis and Virgil worked on cutting the squashes from the vine.

“What do you do during the winter?” Virgil asked curiously. “If this is your last crop?”

“Well, at the beginning, I mostly will be working on making sure things are stored correctly along with some of the kitchen staff. There’s some drying to do and some canning. After that’s done, I’ll spend some time organizing and planning. Then, before the spring comes, I’ll start preparing seedlings in the green house.”

“Seedlings?” he asked.

“I let seeds start to grow in the greenhouse that I replant once it gets warm enough.”

“Why don’t you just plant them where they’re going?”

“I do for some,” he said, “but giving some a head start is good for them.”

Patton watched as Virgil continued to ask questions about gardening while working on harvesting the squash. Mr. Deknis continued to answer them in a calm, soft tone that Patton didn’t think he’d ever heard from the often gruff man before.

Patton wasn’t surprised when, after finishing getting most of the squash off of the vine, Mr. Deknis asked if Virgil wanted to help him with canning some pears in a couple of days. Virgil immediately looked over at Logan and Patton as though asking permission.

“Say yes if you would like to Virgil,” Logan said.

“Yes,” Virgil said as soon as he was given permission. Mr. Deknis smiled at him softly and started loading the last of the squash into the wheelbarrow. Patton offered to run the squash leaves to the kitchen while Logan and Virgil helped Mr. Deknis take the actual squash to the green house.

He dropped the leaves off to a kitchen worker since Mama was busy and headed back out to the garden. By the time he returned, Logan was already back from the green house and sitting by one of the more decorative trees near the castle.

“He’s exploring,” Logan said, nodding at a large patch of bushes.

Patton chuckled. “I see.” He sat next to Logan. Every so often he’d hear the bushes rustle, but he couldn’t tell if it was actually Virgil or an animal.

“He’s adorable,” Patton commented, keeping an ear out.

Logan hummed.

“I’m glad we kept him.”

“He isn’t a pet, Patton.”

Patton rolled his eyes. “I know, but I’m still glad. I’m glad he’s making friends with Mr. Deknis. Once he knows how to read better, we should get him a book about gardening. He seems interested.”

Logan nodded. “Having a hobby would be good for him. Clearly he has a fascination with the garden.” He nodded to the blur of dark hair that could be seen through the bushes. It seemed Virgil had stopped his exploration and was now laying down in the bushes a few feet away.

“I’m going to go see what he’s doing,” Patton said. “I’ll be right back.”

Logan nodded and Patton got to his feet. The bushes were part of a small maze that was filled with flowers during the spring and summer months but were mostly just green and brown bushes for now. Despite the fact that Patton had been able to see him only a few feet away, it took him a while to wind through the path to where he was. When he finally turned the last corner and he came into view, Patton gasped softly.

“Ghost kitty!” he said, making sure to make his voice as quiet as possible.

Despite how soft he made his voice, two pairs of eyes shot over to him. The completely black kitten was perched on Virgil’s lap like she belonged there. Ghost Kitty hissed slightly, but Virgil reached forward to pet her head gently.

“This is Ghost Kitty?” Virgil asked. “I thought you said she was hard to pet.”

“She is,” Patton said. He lowered himself onto the ground from a few feet away from them. “How did you get her to come to you?”

Virgil glanced down at the cat and shrugged, scratching one of her ears. “She just came over to me and let me pet her.”

“Wow,” Patton said softly. He looked at the cat. “Could I pet you sweetie?” he asked, holding out a hand in her direction. She hissed again.

Virgil frowned down at her. “It’s Patton,” he said as though he expected her to understand his words and the exasperation in his tone.

He pet the cat’s head to soothe her and then reached over to grab Patton’s hand. He pulled and Patton carefully leaned a bit closer until his hand was within sniffing distance. Ghost Kitty sniffed his fingers contemplatively and then bumped her head against it. He barely restrained a squeal, knowing that probably wouldn’t be taken well.

He carefully turned his hand over so he could stroke the top of her head. He gently scratched her ear, not daring to go for under her chin yet since she didn’t know him well. “Hi,” he said softly. After a moment, she started to purr softly. Virgil reached over and scratched under her chin and she purred louder. “Oh, you’re a good girl,” Patton breathed, letting a hand trail gently down her back once and then again. Patton settled himself carefully into a seating position continuing to pet her. After a few more moments of soft petting, she hesitantly stepped her front paws onto Patton’s thigh, so she was sitting in both of their laps. Patton laughed softly. “Hi sweetie.” He glanced over at Virgil who had a wide smile on his face as he pet the cat. This. This was adorable. They continued to pet the cat for a very long time.

Chapter 31

Logan waited for a while after Patton left to check on Virgil, but the two never resurfaced. It was odd, Patton would usually remember to come back and get Logan or at least tell them where they were. With a sigh, Logan climbed to his feet to go find them. It took him a while to weave his way through the maze of bushes to them especially because they were suspiciously quiet (Well, suspicious for Patton. Virgil was often unnervingly quiet when alone.) Luckily, he knew the bushes enough after all of these years not to get lost and managed to find the two after a few minutes.

“Ah,” he said, immediately identifying the reason for Patton disappearing.

“Logan!” Patton said, his voice excited, but also quieter than normal. “We found a kitty!”

“I can see that,” Logan responded, taking a step closer. The cat hissed at him in response. The hissing was so intense and wild that he’d suspect the thing was feral if it wasn’t happily on Virgil’s lap having had it’s head in Patton’s lap before Logan had approached.

“No,” Virgil told the animal as though it could understand words. “That’s Logan. Be nice.”

The cat still glared at him and swished it’s tail back and forth threateningly. Virgil pet the top of it’s head and it broke eye contact with Logan to purr.

Patton seemed delighted by the purring, reaching to stroke under the thing’s chin carefully. “We should give her a name!” Patton said.

Virgil frowned. “I thought her name was Ghost Kitty.”

“That is ‘Ghost Kitty’?” Logan asked skeptically. From what Patton had said about that cat, it was terrified of people and no one could ever get near it, even him. Now it was in Virgil’s lap?

“But that was a temporary name,” Patton said, “for before we officially met her. Now we have to give her a real name.”

“Do not give it a name,” Logan said. “You will get attached.”

“How do you name a cat?” Virgil asked.

“Do not name it,” Logan said.

“You give them names based on their personalities, how they look, or even just because it’s a cute name,” Patton explained. “Like, remember Mittens? I named her Mittens because she has white fur and black paws!”

Virgil looked at the cat. “She’s completely black,” he said.

Patton hummed. “So, we could give her a name based on that like Midnight or Shadow.”

“Those are fine,” Virgil said.

“No, no,” Patton said. “I’m just giving you examples. You get to name her yourself.”

“This is a bad idea,” Logan said.

“Just throw out some names,” Patton said. “Anything you can think of.”

“Uh,” Virgil said. “Knife.”

“…Just Knife?” Patton asked.

“Nightmare.” Virgil seemed to think about it. “No, that’s mean.”

“How about things you like?” Patton suggested.

“Alfredo?”

Oh no, Logan thought, he was worse than Patton at cat naming.

“Good start,” Patton said. “Logan, do you have any suggestions.”

“Cat,” Logan said.

“Real suggestions,” Patton scolded.

Logan sighed and thought for a moment. “Aphrodite.”

“Catphrodite!”

Logan glared at him. “Helena.”

“Helenpaw.”

“Claudia.”

“Clawdia.”

“Persephone.”

Patton smiled at him, cheerfully.

“…Damnit!”

Patton turned to Virgil again. “Like that! They don’t even have to be serious. Like, uh, you could name her Madam Fluffywuffykins the Great!”

“Do not name her that,” Logan said, scrunching up his nose.

Logan sat on the ground, the cat eyeing him, but no longer hissing. Logan gently guided them towards more sensible names despite Patton trying his hardest to drag them into stupidity.

Virgil still didn’t quite get it. He mostly tried to name it after foodstuff, and often not even appropriate foodstuff such as “Corn” and “Acorn Squash” and “Sandwich” and occasionally would drop in semi violent ones such as “Razor,” “Nightshade” and “Void.” Patton suggested names like “Fluffers,” “Bobette” and “Darling” as well as some that were puns. Logan tried to direct them towards more sensible ones like “Salem” and even went so low as to suggest the contrary “Snowball.”

It quickly seemed to become less about actually naming the cat and more of a game. Patton had taught Virgil about playing with cats and had even gotten out a ball of yarn he cared around for his crafts. Both Virgil and the cat seemed to find endless entertainment with that. Logan hoped Patton had another ball of yarn that color because, he was never going to get that ball back.

The barrage of names fizzled out into naming things around them like “Leaf” and “Bush” until they stopped suggesting names altogether. Patton and Logan sat back and watched Virgil play with the cat.

Logan watched as they stopped playing suddenly and Virgil and the cat squinted at each other. “Marisol,” Virgil said, pulling the name out of nowhere. “That’s her name.” He said it with a certainty that was surprising considering how he’d treated the naming process with confusion and caution earlier. If Logan did not know better, his tone of voice would indicate that the cat, or Marisol he guessed, had gotten bored of them coming up with stupid names and decided to tell him her actual name herself.

The cat made a sound and batted at Virgil’s face without claws to grab back his attention.

He turned back to it and bopped its face with a finger in kind. It attacked his finger, but in a clearly playful matter as it still did not extend it’s claws and its teeth did not draw blood.

“That’s a great name, Virgil,” Patton said.

“Much more pleasant than any that Patton suggested all afternoon,” Logan said. He received an elbow to the side for his quip.

“A pretty name for a pretty kitty,” Patton said, scooting over to where Virgil was sat and attempting to pet Marisol’s head. Marisol, however, was too keyed up and batted at the hand.

“I love you too!” Patton said.

Logan rolled his eyes, but he had long since resigned himself to watching the two of them play with and coo over the cat for the rest of the day.

Eventually, though, it started to get darker. Even after Logan pointed this out, it still took over an hour for them to relent and leave the bush maze to go to the door. The problem was of course, that the cat had managed to grow very attached to Virgil in the last few hours and she followed them all the way to the door with manipulatively heart breaking mews.

“You’ve got to stay out here,” Virgil said, when they got to the castle door. He pet her ear softly and she shoved her head into his hand. “I’m sorry. I don’t have anywhere to put you.” He sounded horribly sad about that fact and Logan felt himself shift uncomfortably. “I basically live in a closet and Logan doesn’t like cats in his room anyway.”

Logan immediately felt unreasonably guilty, probably more so because Logan did not think Virgil was trying to make him feel guilty. “…Bring the dammed thing inside.”

Virgil blinked up at him. “What?”

“It will get cold soon anyway,” Logan said.

He frowned at Logan from where he was crouched. “But you don’t like fur in your room…”

“I will have to find a potion that works,” he said with a sigh, “and we’ll have to say it’s mine to the guards and Father since it will be staying in my room, but it is yours in every other way. That means you are going to feed it, clean it, and clean up after it.”

Virgil nodded immediately and swooped Marisol up in his arms. The cat went without complaint. “Thank you!” he said. “I love her.”

“I know you do,” Logan said, already regretting it already. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to even consider recanting the offer considering how happy Virgil seemed to be. They had a cat now, he guessed.

Chapter 32

“What are you doing?” Helen asked a few minutes after her son walked into the kitchen and started looking around as though he were trying to find something. It was a few hours into the afternoon, and she and a few workers were already prepping for dinner.

“Uh,” Patton said. “Have you seen Virgil?”

“No,” Helen said. “Why.”

“Er… Logan and I sorta, lost him,” Patton said. He was wringing his hands anxiously. Helen put down the knife in her hand.

“What do you mean you lost him?” she asked.

“Well, see, we were trying to teach him how to play hide and seek, um, but then we didn’t think to tell him that he eventually had to come out if we didn’t find him, and now we haven’t seen him since breakfast.”

“He didn’t know what tag is?” she asked. That was just one more thing to add to the list of why Helen worried about Virgil and where he came from. Every morsel of information she’d managed to wring from Patton despite his evasions made her lists of concerns grow larger, even little things like him not knowing about simple childhood games. Actually, thinking of concerning things having to do with Virgil. “Wait, so he hasn’t eaten lunch.”

“Um, we don’t know that,” Patton’s mouth said while his eyes said ‘no.’

“He needs to be on a consistent diet, especially when he’s still taking the malnutrition potion,” she scolded.

“I know, Mama, I know,” Patton said. “I’m trying to find him. I’d kinda hoped he’d gotten hungry and snuck down here. He probably wouldn’t want to risk being caught stealing food though.”

Helen grimaced. Yet another concerning thing.

“Wait! I have an idea, I’ll be right back.” Patton turned and ran out of the room. Helen frowned at the space he’d been and finished chopping the carrot on the cutting board in front of her. If it had been any other person in the castle missing, Helen wouldn’t have worried, but she had literally never seen Virgil without Patton and/or Logan by his side. Even when he’d gone to help Jeff can some fruit, Logan had reportedly hung around to read a book.

Considering that Logan had never exactly been clingy even with Patton, she imagined that either Virgil asked, or Logan thought he should stay with him for his comfort. So, she was surprised that he was apparently hidden away somewhere in the castle where neither of the other kids could find him.

Still thinking about this, she walked over to the entrance to the cellar below the kitchen where they stored most of the vegetables, planning to grab some more carrots. She was confused for a moment when she heard movement from deeper in the pantry. She reached over and touched the panel near the door that controlled the magic lights.

The newly illuminated figure startled as the lights came on, whipping around to stare at her with wide eyes.

“Virgil?” she asked.

“Sorry,” he said immediately, taking a step back.

“It’s fine,” she said immediately, “but what are you doing here?”

He considered her for a long moment, but apparently, she passed some sort of mental test, because he relaxed, at least as much as he’d ever relaxed in her presence. “Where are we?” he asked.

Her brow knit together. “The cellar under the kitchen,” she said, “You don’t know that?”

He shook his head.

“The only entrance is from the kitchen.” Now that she thought about it, she hadn’t seen him go through the kitchen at any point.

“No, it’s not,” Virgil said. “There’s a tunnel.”

“A-a tunnel?” she asked. Actually, taking a closer look at him, he seemed a bit grimy. He had dust all over his front and dirt on his nose. She thought he might even have a couple of cobwebs in his hair.

“Yep,” he said.

“Where’s the tunnel?” she asked.

“It’s right over here,” he said. He took a couple of steps and pointed to the ground. There was an open square hole there that clearly had been made a long time ago but which she had never noticed in all of her time working here.

“How did you find this?” she asked.

“We were playing hide and seek,” Virgil explained. “Logan said I could hide anywhere inside the castle. I hid on top of a dresser upstairs in some unused sitting room. There was a hole in the wall above it, so I climbed into it. Then, I crawled a little bit and it let out into a hidden passage in the walls. I wandered around in it until I found another hole in one of the walls. I thought it was a way out, so I squeezed into it, but it took me to a different hallway where I found an old room. There was a different hole in that room that had probably been covered by something because it was in the floor but whatever it was had rotted away. I crawled though it into a tunnel and came out here.”

She couldn’t help but laugh a bit at his explanation. “Well, it sounds like you went on an adventure,” she said, “but Patton and Logan have been trying to find you. You missed lunch.”

He tilted his head at her. “I know. I was supposed to hide.”

“Yes,” she explained, “but you are supposed to come out at some point if they can’t find you for things like food.”

“Oh,” he said.

“They probably should have explained,” she said. “For now, why don’t we get you something to eat? You must be hungry.”

Virgil frowned. “But I missed lunch.”

“You can still eat even though it’s not in normal hours,” she said. “You could even if you had made it to lunch.”

“Really?” he asked, he looked tragically confused by this offer.

“Of course, sweetie,” she said. “In fact, I insist you get something good to eat right now. How about I made you a grilled ham and cheese sandwich? Maybe some cookies too!”

Virgil titled his head. “You are Patton’s mother,” he stated.

Helen laughed softly. “He gets its all from me,” she said. “We should probably go find him and tell him you’re okay. He was worried.”

“I didn’t mean to worry him,” Virgil said with a frown.

“I know,” Helen said. “It’s okay. He’ll probably laugh when he figures out where you’ve been, and Logan will interrogate you all about the secret passageways.” He seemed happy about the prospect of seeing his friends. “Come on, let’s go upstairs for a bit,” she said.

Chapter 33

Patton’s mom had already made Virgil sit down at the small table in the corner of the kitchen and had handed him a sandwich by the time Patton barreled into the kitchen, Logan coming after him at a more sedate pace.

“Virgil!” he said, sounding surprised and relieved.

“Patton,” Patton’s mom scolded. “No cats in the kitchen.” Patton had brought Marisol in with him and had let her go as soon as he’d seen Virgil. She immediately plodded over to him and hoped onto the table to sniff at his face in greeting.

“But she’s the princess!” Patton argued.

“No,” Logan said.

“Yes, she is!” Patton said.

“The stupid cat is not a princess.”

“Don’t be mean to your little sister, Logan.”

“I regret every life decision that has led me to this point.”

While Logan and Patton were distracted squabbling and Patton’s mom was distracted watching them squabble, Virgil tore off a bit of the ham in his sandwich and offered it to Marisol. Marisol gracefully took it from his grip and ate it.

“So, this is Logan’s new cat I’ve been hearing about?” Patton’s mom asked.

“Indeed,” Logan said, his lips thinned. He and Marisol were mostly amicable when alone with just them and Virgil, but Patton had a habit of cooing over the kitten and needling Logan into being irritated.

“Mmm, yeah,” Patton’s mom said. She glanced over at Virgil right as Marisol basically slammed her face into his chin in a bid to get pets. “Your cat.” She shook her head. “But Princess Kitten or not, I do not want fur in dinner,” she said.

“Sorry,” Patton said, honestly not sounding sorry at all. Virgil was always a bit surprised when the insolent shrug garnered nothing more that a scowl that did not reach Patton’s mom’s eyes. “I thought she could help me find Virgil, but you already found him.” He turned to Virgil. “Where have you been all day?”

“Found a tunnel,” Virgil said. He had to use one hand to hold Marisol back from his sandwich as he took another bite, but then gave her a bite of cheese.

“You found what?” Logan asked.

“There’s a tunnel under the cellar,” Virgil said. “It goes to an old closed up room and also to a set of secret passageways.” It was a bit of a security risk honestly, though clearly no one had used it in years by how dirty it was. He did plan to go back into it and make sure the sprawling tunnels didn’t go to anywhere more dangerous like the royal wing.

“A closed-up room?” Logan said. He could see a bit of curiosity already building in his eyes.

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “Where the door used to be seemed like it had been bricked over.”

“Really? Can you show me.”

“Sure,” Virgil answered.

“Ah, perhaps we should be a bit more cautious about climbing through random tunnels we don’t know the stability of,” Patton’s mom said.

Logan’s frown edged on a pout.

“Talk to your father,” she said. “I’m sure he can get someone who understands these things so you can safely investigate.”

“It was safe enough for Virgil,” Logan pointed out.

“No, Logan.”

He sighed but seemed to concede. That was another strange thing about living here. By all rights Logan didn’t have to obey anyone except the king, but he often listened to those around him, not just the adults but Patton as well. It was interesting though it sometimes made the hierarchy hard to figure out. Virgil did sometimes stress out about the hypothetical situation where he got conflicting orders from two people, and he wouldn’t know which one to obey. So far it hadn’t been a problem luckily. They always seemed to work it out amongst themselves in some give and take social interaction that was a bit too complex for him to understand.

Patton walked over to where Virgil was sitting. “I’m glad your safe,” he said. “We should probably put a time limit on hide and seek in the future, so you know when to come out.”

“Did I win?” Virgil asked. He’d honestly forgotten they’d been playing a game until Patton’s mom had asked how he’d found his way into the cellar.

Patton laughed. “I’d say so, yeah,” he replied. He leaned over to kiss Virgil’s forehead, but drew back immediately with a pinched expression. “You are… very dirty,” he said, rubbing his mouth.

Virgil nodded. “Your mom made me sit on a tablecloth,” he said gesturing to the fabric she’d laid over the chair.

Patton snorted out a laugh. “We’ll get you into the bath when you’re done eating and you can tell us all about your little adventure.”

“I would also like to hear about your discoveries,” Logan said. “Though you are not allowed to sit on the bed until you do not have spider webs in your hair.”

Patton’s eyes widened and he jumped away from Virgil, startling both Virgil and Marisol. The latter hopped from the table onto Virgil’s lap. “Spiders?!”

Virgil tilted his head at him in confusion.

“He isn’t a fan of spiders,” Logan informed him, his voice amused at Patton’s reaction.

Apparently deciding that she was no longer startled, but more confused by the noises Patton had just made, Marisol jumped out of Virgil’s lap to investigate, wrapping her way around Patton’s legs. He bent down to pat her back, though he still looked a bit startled.

“Your cat, huh?” Patton’s mom asked Logan once again. Virgil studied her. She had apparently missed Logan mentioning that he allowed Virgil on the bed. Or perhaps Logan was correct in his insistence that it wasn’t actually that big of a deal here. Virgil would rather not test that assumption, however, so was glad that it had been distracted from by Patton’s outburst.

“Creepy, crawly death dealers,” Patton mumbled into Marisol’s fur, having picked her back up. Virgil made a note to not inform Patton of all of the different types of spiders he’d seen skittering around in the castle walls today. Maybe he’d talk about them with Logan once Patton left. He’d probably be interested. Virgil had seen some he’d never seen before! Logan probably could even help him figure out what their names were. “You’ll protect me, won’t you kitty?” Patton asked Marisol.

She made a little ‘burrrr’ sound in response, which Patton seemed to take a confirmation.

“Aw thank you, baby! Such a good baby.”

50234

Virgil popped the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. Patton’s mom turned away and grabbed a plate stacked with cookies. She handed it to Logan. “Take these, and please get the health hazards out of my kitchen,” she requested.

Logan took them without complaint. “Come on, Virgil,” he said. “Let’s go get you clean.”

“We’re going to need so much soap,” Patton said.

Virgil looked down at himself. “I can go outside and get most of it off if you get me a bucket of water,” he offered.

“Virgil, it’s below freezing,” Logan said as though that had a baring on what he’d just said. Logan sighed. “No. Bathtub.” Virgil shrugged. “Honestly,” Logan said. He turned with the plate of cookies in his hand, clearly expecting to be followed. “You’re not going to catch your death pouring a bucket of water over yourself in the cold when there are literally over a hundred perfectly good bathtubs in this castle. For goodness sakes.” And well, Virgil wasn’t going to complain.

Chapter 34

Patton, to be completely honest, was not all that interested in the room that Virgil had found. Beyond just the fact that it would definitely have creepy crawly death dealers in it, he really did not understand the intrigue. If it had just been him, he probably would have just let a castle worker deal with it, but it was not just him. Logan was ecstatic with the prospect of investigating a secret in the castle. People who didn’t know him well may not believe it considering he spent most of his time with his nose in a book, but he was an adventurer at heart.

Thomas had been easily swayed into finding someone to help tear down part of the wall into the secret tunnel near the room (so no one would have to crawl through the kitchen cellar like Virgil). It had taken a few days, however, and Logan was practically bouncing off the walls waiting. Virgil, despite having already seen the room before, also seemed excited, though if that was because of his own curiosity or because he was just excited that Logan seemed so exited remained to be seen.

“They are silly, aren’t they,” Patton asked Princess Marisol. He was laying on his stomach on Logan’s bed and Princess Marisol had just put her little paw on his nose.

“Yes, I agree,” he said. “Don’t they know that we’re literally going to be 2 feet away from the normal hallway?”

“It is not silly,” Logan defended himself. “Any number of things could go wrong.” He sounded far too excited about the prospect of something going terribly wrong. “The tunnels could cave in and block off the exit or there could be some unknown pathogen in the air.”

Patton did not ruin his fun by mentioning that Logan’s dad had definitely basically baby proofed the tunnels for them ahead of time. Instead, he just said, “Don’t let Virgil hear you say that sort of thing. It will just stress him out.”

“Yes, yes, of course,” he said, waving off Patton’s concerns as he mulled over two different weird green planty things (potion ingredients, Patton assumed) before setting one aside and sticking the other in his bag.

“So silly,” Patton cooed at the cat. Logan let out a huff but did not choose to say anything about it this time.

Speaking of silly, Virgil came back from Logan’s bathroom then, and Patton tried not to giggle. “Is this right?” Virgil asked, sounding and looking confused. Logan, in his overexcitement about adventure had commissioned Virgil an outfit that actually fit. Said outfit, however, very much made it look more like Virgil was going on a safari instead of a two-foot detour from the normal castle hallway.

“Almost,” Logan said, “Here, let me.” Logan started straightening everything out and flattening the collar, reminding Patton of an overbearing parent on picture day. Virgil accepted the fussing without protest. It was adorable. Well, the outfit was ridiculous, but still, adorable. “There,” Logan said. “I think we’re ready to go now.”

It was about time. Patton was sure people were already waiting for them downstairs. Patton got up and patted Princess Marisol on the head. She looked up at them with interest.

“You can stay here, sweetie,” Patton told here. She seemed to consider it and then hopped down from the bed to go rub up against Virgil.

Patton guessed she was coming. It didn’t matter too much since Logan had given her a magical collar that allowed her to open most doors in the castle and everyone knew she was the royal cat now, so if she decided she wanted to come back to the room and nap, she could. (She was very aware of the power she held.)

She pranced happily by Virgil’s side all the way down the steps to the first floor of the castle. She was such a good kitty.

Well, she did hiss angrily at everyone who came too close to them, but still, a very good kitty.

Patton did lean down and pick her up so they could actually talk to the man waiting for them at the large hole in the wall. Logan went to talk to the castle worker while Virgil half hid behind Patton. He was clearly listening very intently to the conversation however, at least more intently than Patton was. Patton was busy shaking his head fondly.

“Yes, yes, Princess,” he said to the cat. “I know we do not trust the strangers, but I promise this stranger is perfectly safe.”

“How do you know?” Virgil asked.

“His name is Chester and I’ve known him since I was 9.”

This seemed to slightly alleviate Virgil’s suspicion, but Princess Marisol still seemed antsy. Patton really needed to start slowly introducing the both of them to more people.

Logan finished talking with Chester after a few moments and it was time to climb through the hole in the wall. He wished he saw in the tunnel whatever Logan with his excited eyes and bounce to his step obviously saw. Or even that was more comfortable in the dark closed in space as Virgil obviously was. As it was, Patton’s nose scrunched up at the thought off all of the spiders that could be living everywhere in the secret tunnel, but he pushed through.

The entrance to the tunnel had been made only a little bit from the room Virgil had mentioned and Chester had led them through it after only a couple of seconds. As Patton had suspected, the room was already lit up and probably cleaned a little bit by the people who had cut into the wall, not that he was complaining.

Virgil was still clinging a bit to Patton’s shirt, though it seemed to be less out of anxiety at this point and more out of a desire to stick close. He was peering around curiously at the lit-up space. He probably hadn’t seen much of it in the dark when he’d been here before.

Yet, his curiosity was nothing compared to how excited Logan seemed to be. Now Patton may have not been interested in the room itself, but he was entertained by how interested Logan was and was happy to encourage that.

“What do you think this place is?” he asked Logan.

Logan hummed contemplatively, eyes looking around. “Well,” he said. “It’s a bedroom clearly, and old. Considering the location it is in in the castle, the size, the decorations, and it’s likely age, I’d imagine it was a bedroom of a royal family member. This used to be the royal wing three royal lines ago.”

“Bearing that in mind, there are a couple of likely possibilities for the origin of the room as well as the reason it was sealed up, but we will need to investigate more in order to come to an actual conclusion.” He had already placed the bag he’d brought on the ground and was going through it, pulling out things that Patton did not recognize. He also got a piece of paper and sat on the floor to start to sketch.

“What are you doing?” Virgil asked.

“I’m sketching the floorplan of the room,” Logan said. “I will then put a grid on it so we can investigate while being sure that we aren’t missing anything.”

Virgil seemed uninterested in this part of the adventure, instead electing to go poking around by himself. Princess Marisol squirmed out of Patton’s arms to go follow him. Patton swore that he only looked away from those two for 5 seconds, but the next thing he knew he heard metal clicking against metal.

“Oh,” Patton said, eyes wide when he saw what Virgil was fiddling with. “Honey, you probably shouldn’t touch…”

The old but fancy looking chest that had been at the end of the remains of the bed creaked open. Virgil sneezed as a cloud of dust puffed out of it. “Huh,” he said studying the contents. “There’s a skull in here.”

“Oh, I don’t like this adventure anymore,” Patton commented.

Logan was on his feet within moments. “Let me see,” he said eagerly.

“What if it’s cursed?” Patton pointed out.

“Then I’ll just break the curse,” Logan waved him off. “Oh, it’s just a horse skull,” Logan said, sounding disappointed. “And also what seemed to be potion ingredients. Though they seem very fresh considering the state of the room.”

“Maybe we should get someone else to…”

Logan already had both arms inside the chest and was pulling things out of it. “This chest must have some sort of stasis effect to it.”

He started pulling things out to look at them before setting them on the floor with no caution. “Well,” he said, “that answers the question of what this room is.”

“It does?” Patton asked.

“Ah, yes, between the horse skull and the potion ingredients, this is obviously the bedroom of Princess Marianne Elicia. She was the third child of King Simon IV and was quite the fan of horses.”

“…So she kept a horse skull in a stasis chest in her bedroom?” Patton asked.

“Of course,” Logan said. “Back when her family was in power, magic was outlawed and had quite the stigma against it, but she ended up learning magic and become quite proficient.”

“It’s debated what exactly happened when her father found out about her activities. Some sources say that she was executed silently by her father, but others say she managed to escape with the head of the stables but not before putting a curse on the country of Prijaznia. That is until she or one of her bloodline sits on the throne, every royal line will end in madness and blood by the 5th seated monarch before an heir is born.”

“Isn’t that something you should be worried about?” Virgil asked.

Logan shrugged. “It’s just a myth,” he said. “Besides I’m 6th in the line, so there really isn’t any concern.”

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“There are a lot of interesting things in here,” Logan said, still focused on the chest. “Not to mention the books. We’ll have to be careful with those though since they don’t appear to be in stasis.”

Logan pulled the horse skull out and set it on the floor making Patton wince.

“Marisol no!” he said as Princess Marisol immediately went to go sniff at it. He swooped her up in his arms. “How long are we staying in this creepy room?” Patton asked.

“Patton, we just got here,” Logan said.

“We just got here and already found a skull!”

“Yes! Exactly!”

Patton groaned into Princess Marisol’s fur even as she tried wiggle away to go back and investigate the skull. This was going to be a long day.

Chapter 35

Logan was surprised when he woke up alone in bed. He’d grown to anticipate waking to a smaller body unrelentingly clinging to his in the past couple of weeks. Confused he sat up and peered around his bedroom. He wouldn’t have seen Virgil with the way he melted into the darkness if it he hadn’t heard the sound of purring coming from near the window. He could just barely make out a dark blob shifting up and down at the cat kneaded at a different blob sitting mostly hidden behind the thick curtain.

“Virgil?” Logan questioned. “What are you doing?”

“It’s snowing,” was the answer.

“That is not an answer,” Logan grumbled at the ceiling. With a sigh, he pulled himself out of bed. It was a bit chilly in here, he thought. The temperature must have dipped suddenly and intensely enough that the runes keeping the castle at a warm enough temperature hadn’t caught up yet. He pulled one of the blankets off of the top of his bed to wrap around his shoulders as he approached the window. There wasn’t much light outside, the stars and moon covered by clouds, but there were some lanterns lit for the night guard who patrolled the outside. “Oh,” he said in surprise. “It’s really snowing.”

It had been colder but not quite cold enough for snow to stick the day before, so it came as a surprise when he saw snow was piling up quite high to the point where familiar paths outside his window had disappeared.

“I don’t like it,” Virgil informed him.

“Why not?” Logan asked.

“It’s cold,” Virgil answered. It was clear in his tone that in Virgil’s opinion ‘cold’ was a horrible insult to the concept of snow. Logan quirked a half smile and his attention was drawn to the fact that it was quite cold right here close to the window.

Frowning, he pulled at the blanket around his shoulder so he could wrap it and his arm around the lump that was Virgil. He brushed the boy’s hand when he did so and found it was like ice.

“You’re freezing!” Logan said. “How long have you been by the window?”

“I dunno,” he replied.

Logan was already tugging at him. “You need to get back in bed,” he said.

Virgil obeyed the pulling at his arms even as he frowned. “I’ve been colder than this before,” he said.

“That actually doesn’t make me feel better,” Logan replied dryly as he shooed him towards the bed.

He took the thicker blanket that usually stayed folded at the end of the bed and pulled it up over Virgil before climbing into bed beside him.

“There,” Logan said, rubbing Virgil’s arms through the fabric of the sweater he wore to bed. He was glad he wasn’t wearing a t-shirt at least. “The runes for heating the castle should catch up within a few hours, but until then this should do. Assuming we don’t sit by the freezing window for an undetermined amount of time.”

“I don’t like the cold,” Virgil told him.

Logan sighed. “Then why did you sit by the window?”

Virgil shrugged and ducked his head a bit. Logan reached out to grab his hands to help him warm more but was surprised when one of the hands was much warmer than the other. He found his fingers were clutching a crescent shaped stone: the protection charm they’d made. Logan knew that he kept it in his pocket most of the time, but he didn’t normally see him holding it like this. It was warm to the touch, of course, indicating the safety of the room around them.

Logan looked over his face. “Are you…” he said. “Scared of the snow?”

“I don’t like the cold,” he said once again.

“You’re scared of the winter,” Logan concluded. He looked at Virgil who was far too small for his age and seemed surprised at every casual act of kindness. It was clear that his basic needs were far from being met before he came here. Logan had to wonder what winter usually meant for him. His experiences were doubtlessly very different from Logan’s own. “That makes sense,” he acknowledged, “but you don’t need to be scared of it here. The castle is always perfectly warm and safe in the winter and Mr. Deknis and Ms. Heart work hard during the other seasons to make sure we have plenty of food. There is nothing to fear here.”

He did not seem convinced.

“You don’t even have to go outside if you don’t want to,” Logan promised. “The castle is plenty big if you’d like to stay inside all winter long. It was made for the winter even without the magic devices that keep it warm. We have fireplaces and well insulated rooms even if those that ends up failing.” Logan pulled open the hand that had the protection charm just to transfer it to his other hand to warm it. “Though, while no one would force you to go outside, the snow isn’t always bad.”

“Yes it is,” Virgil said, his voice sure.

“Not all the time,” Logan insisted. “Some people love the snow.”

“They’re stupid.”

Logan laughed. “It can be fun for a while with the right equipment if you have someplace to get warm again afterwards. Royal duties slow down during the winter and Patton tends to come up with all sorts of games for both the inside and the outside to pass the time. He’s particularly proficient at snowball fights, at least against me.”

“What’s that?” he asked.

“Play fighting,” Logan answered. “Like pillow fights, but snow.”

“I’ll stick with the pillows,” he replied.

“And then there’s a hill to sled down on the western side of the castle, and people like to build snowmen along the path.”

“What are snowmen?” Virgil asked.

They’re temporary statues made out of packed snow,” Logan explained. “Typically, they’re made of three different sized balls of snow: the largest being the base and the smallest the ‘head’ though there are some variations. After building them one typically decorates them with different articles of clothing and objects found lying around. It’s usually sticks and rocks for the face and then things like extra hats and scarfs for decoration.” He smiled softly. “When my Pa was alive, we used to steal my Dad’s crown and fanciest robes. Sometimes Pa would steal it right off of Dad’s head and we’d run away. We’d find a secluded area of the castle yards and build the biggest snowman we could as quickly as we could before we got caught. He’d usually end up letting us keep the robes, but we’d have to give the crown back since some of the metals in it would rust when wet.”

“That sounds…” Virgil’s nose twitched. “fun if you take away the touching snow part.”

Logan laughed. “It is fun,” he said. “Even with the touching snow part. Though, I admit that some of the ability for it to be entertaining does come from the fact that we could warm up afterwards with ease. You’ll enjoy Patton’s mother’s constant offering of hot chocolate during the season even if you never go outside, I’m sure.”

“Hot chocolate?” Virgil asked intrigued. His dark eyes shone brightly in the little light coming through the window. It was clear he could guess something about the drink just by the name and enjoyed the implications.

Logan smiled fondly. “It is a hot drink,” he explained. “It’s a warm drink made out of milk and chocolate. I can get you some to try in the morning.”

Virgil nodded, eyes still wide with interest.

“For now, we should sleep though,” Logan said. “Are you warm enough? I can get more blankets.”

“I’m fine,” he said.

“Good,” Logan said, reaching up and adjusting the blanket over them once more, tucking it around Virgil a little bit for good measure. “Goodnight Virgil,” he said.

“Goodnight,” he replied softly. Logan reached under the blankets to grab the hand that was still slightly chilly from the window between his own. Virgil’s eyes slipped closed after a moment as he nuzzle his face into the pillow. At some point they both drifted off to sleep.

Chapter 36

Thomas had already been well aware that winter was on the way, but he and the rest of the castle occupants had been surprised at how intensely and suddenly it had come on. Most things were ready for the winter, but not all of them had been initiated. The fireplaces that took some pressure off the castle heating runes were cleaned out and ready, but they hadn’t been started yet. The stables for different animals on the grounds had been checked over and staff assignments had been made, but most were still in far out fields. Staff that went home for the winter months had been dismissed, but there were a few stragglers that would have to be helped home before things got worse.

He’d gone out to the main stable to talk to the three workers that were the heads of different areas of animal husbandry to make sure a plan to get everything to where it needed to be soon was in place. It took a while to figure out considering that they’d expected a little more time before the first major snowfall. Thomas also asked them to make sure all of the workers’ homes were in good enough condition for the weather. Ranch hands typically had homes on castle grounds but not in the castle themselves since they needed to be close to the animals. Thomas knew at least half a dozen of those who spent most of their times out in the fields were the type to forgot to maintain their homes because they preferred camping amongst the animals in the summer months and then would be in for a bad time when snow began to fall.

There should be enough extra rooms in the castle if they needed a place to stay until repairs could be done.

Those conversations took a good couple of hours, before Thomas was satisfied. Before trudging back to the castle through the still falling snow, he made a point to stop at one specific horse stall in the main stable. The horse turned his head to see Thomas when he stopped in front of his stall and puffed out a rather disaffected snort before sticking his head over the gate so Thomas could pat his nose. “Hello, Mr. Apples,” Thomas said.

The horse seemed to conclude he’d tolerated Thomas’s petting enough and ducked his head to nudge at his torso. Thomas rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes,” he said. “I brought you an apple. Some things never change.” He reached into his pocket to grab the red apple he’d brought the white Arabian. “At least you don’t bite me anymore.” He paused, apple slice in hand and eyed the horse’s nose suspiciously. “Do not bite me,” he said even though he hadn’t felt the animal’s teeth in a decade. It would be just like Mr. Apples to wait until his guard was down.

After a bit of scrutiny, he offered an apple slice. It was snatched out of his hand and there was a loud crunch as it was bit into.

“It’s snowing out,” he told the horse. The horse seemed to roll his eyes at the statement of the obvious. “I’ll remind again that if you run out in a snowstorm, I’m not running after you, so you’d be out of luck.”

Mr. Apples snorted.

“You’re old now. You’d probably not survive long enough for people to find you. Besides, you blend in with that white fur of yours. They’d probably walk right past you a few times.”

He went back to nosing for treats as soon as he finished his first and Thomas sighed, pulling out another apple slice. “What are they not feeding you enough?” The gusto with which the horse snatched the apple slice was a very clear answer. “Well, we both know that’s not true.” Thomas fed the horse a third slice of apple when he was done with his second. “I have to get back to the castle now. Don’t be a devil horse.”

Mr. Apples threw his head a bit, splattering apple smelling foamy spittle all over Thomas’s front.

“Understood. Have a nice afternoon.”

He left Mr. Apples in his stall then, knowing he’d be well cared for no matter how ill-tempered he could be at times. He’d been a king’s horse once, after all, no matter that said king had been dead for more than a decade now.

Winters were hard.

Winters were the times when things always slowed down at the castle, where royal duties were often thin. There were a lot of memories in winter.

The trip back to the castle was not particularly long, but it was also not particularly pleasant. The snow had not been cleared away considering it was still snowing which meant his feet and legs were wet and cold by the time he made it to the nearest castle door.

He wasn’t sure if, when he entered, the castle heating runes had started to work in earnest or if he’d just been so cold that any measure of warmth was appreciated, but he was relieved to be out of the snow either way.

He decided to check up on the progress of the castle staff lighting the fireplaces. With any luck, they’d be lit already, and he could warm up even more. That in mind, he headed towards the main foyer where the largest fireplace in the castle sat to take off the chill brought in by the large front doors.

The main foyer was bustling with activity when he snuck in along the sides, giving the guards stationed around nods as he passed. The main fire in the room was burning brightly, though only one of the two smaller ones near the side exits from the room was lit. The other one was still being set up with safety mechanisms. It was good progress and assuming other areas of the castle were being set up as efficiently, he assumed they’d all be set up by nightfall.

He’d need to go check around to be sure, but for now, he walked up to the main fireplace to warm his hands.

He’d gotten into the habit when he was younger to every so often glance upwards. There had been a certain stable boy who had a propensity for climbing trees. These days, he usually found nothing when he did so, often not even consciously noticing that he’d turned his gaze momentarily skywards. Yet, today, he was startled out of his own idleness by dark brown eyes looking back at him from a small ledge in the shadows high above him.

He froze as he met the young boy’s gaze. Virgil seemed as surprised to be caught as Thomas was to have caught him.

#proofread stories #not writing

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voiceracha · 4 years

Text

voices | chapter two

a stray kids thriller au

genre: crime, thriller, angst

warnings: violence, mature themes & language

voices masterlist

watch the trailer here

read chapter one

02 | HEART TURNED COLD

word count: 2.3k

Making a commotion at the police station is probably not one of his brightest ideas, but Bang Chan regrets nothing.

He sits on a bench outside the station, his shoulders shaking as the tears keep streaming down his face. Nothing accompanies him save for the frigid air as the clock inches towards one o’clock in the morning. With every breath that hitches in his throat, a piece of his broken heart shatters on the floor.

“Son,” a policeman interrupts him. He stands by the entrance, leaning onto the doorframe with one arm while his eyes remained on Chan. “I know it’s hard, but I think it’s better if you go home.”

Chan sniffles and wipes his tears with the back of his right hand.

How could he tell the stranger that his home had been taken away from him, and he’d never have it back?

“Bang Chan? Sooner or later you’re gonna have to leave, son. Do you want me to drive you back to campus? Back home?”

“I don’t have a home anymore!”

He snaps. The words sink into the depths of his thoughts as soon as they escape his mouth.

Felix is gone. And Chan will never see his smile ever again.

He’s going to enter his music studio, and Felix won’t be there waiting for him. The drama studio will await Felix’s return, but those walls will never hold his presence again.

“Chan?” another voice pulls him back to reality.

The music student realizes that he now stands despite his shaking knees. His breathing becomes hard and ragged, and he can feel the invisible walls closing in on him, his bones digging into his flesh and crushing his insides.

“Hey, hey calm down, I got you.”

The voice becomes clearer. His eyes struggle to focus on the person who now stands before him, their hands squeezing his shoulders. He blinks profusely, waiting for his vision to finally make out the face of the man in front of him.

“Breathe, Chan,” Minho says, desperation increasing with every word. He pulls his friend to his chest, rubbing his back as the latter begins sobbing into his shirt.

Minho runs his fingers through Chan’s hair, whispering empty promises into his ear knowing well that he isn’t listening. He turns and nods at the policeman watching from the door, silently mouthing I got him.

Several minutes pass achingly slow, and Minho blinks back the tears in his own eyes every single time Chan’s sobs echo in his ears. There is no room for his own grief—he has to be strong for his friend, and that’s all that matters right now.

“He’s gone, Minho,” Chan’s voice breaks as he speaks. His fists grab the fabric of Minho’s shirt, his face reddened and stricken with salty tears. “He’s really gone.”

Wednesday, 17 June – Two weeks before

“Are you sure this printer still has lots of ink left? I feel like I’ve used it too many times now,” Felix said, eyeing the noisy printer that vomitted paper after paper on one corner of Chan’s desk.

“Who do you think I am? Of course there’s lots of ink left, I just bought a cartridge yesterday!” Chan proceeded to open the top drawer of the desk to show Felix the empty box of ink cartridges. “See?”

Felix rolled his eyes, “Fine, fine. All the more reason for me to use it to print more scripts.”

“Okay now you’re pushing it,” said Chan, punching his friend’s arm lightly.

The two sat in Bang Chan’s dorm room, the film student by the printer arranging his script pages and the music major at his desk, composing a new song. He tapped away on his laptop, adjusting beats and overlaying tracks with his headphones on.

Sometimes Felix would steal glances at him, forever amazed at the talent that the man held. Song after song, he let the magic of his fingers work the keyboards, and Felix could never get tired of admiring the authenticity of the sight before him. He leaned back onto the wall, stretching his legs out in front of him as his gaze remained glued on his best friend.

“Take a picture it’ll last longer,” Chan smirked, taking his headphones off and turning his chair to face Felix.

Felix only scoffed before taking the last pages of his script from the printer. He stood up and placed the script in front of Chan on the desk with a proud, satisfied smile appearing on his lips.

“I did it,” he said, watching Chan’s fingers graze the spot on the front page where his name was written beneath the title of the script.

“Lix, this is amazing,” Chan glanced up at him, speechlessness evident on his face. He slowly flipped through the pages, taking in some words that caught his attention. “Your short film’s gonna be a hit, I just know. I can imagine seeing your name on the big screen already.”

Heat rushed into Felix’s cheeks and to the tip of his ears, but he swallowed it down and slapped Chan’s shoulder.

“Please,” he said, as nonchalantly as he could muster, “you’re talking nonsense.”

“No, I’m serious. I’ve known you for years, Felix. I’ve read every single script you shared with me, and I loved every single one of them. Even your short films in high school were amazing, let alone this one. This is gonna be a good one.”

Chan handed Felix his script, and the latter accepted it with a smile that spoke louder than the words that he didn’t say.

Before Felix could open his mouth, his phone beeped several times.

“You gonna get that?” asked Chan.

“Yeah,” Felix mumbled, taking his phone out of his back pocket. “Oh, it’s Hyunjin.” He paused to unlock the device and read the text messages. “We’re meeting in front of the library to work on the short film in, like, ten minutes? You coming?”

“Bold of you to assume I’d miss it,” Chan replied, already shutting his laptop and standing from his chair. He held his laptop in one hand and fetched his room key from his nightstand. “Let’s go.”

Outside the library was a small garden.

A roofed walkway stretched from the entrance of the building and cut through the colorful flowers, leading straight towards a gazebo in the center of it all. It became a hangout spot for the film students shortly after it was built. So many conversations that sprouted ideas were born there; plans that evolved into writing sessions and soon became short films—all witnessed by the nature that circled the area.

Seated quietly on a bench, Chan continued to arrange his new song while Felix went to discuss the setup of his short film with Hyunjin. He glanced up from his screen to find the two boys sitting on the floor of the gazebo, Felix explaining his visions for the film and Hyunjin listening intently beside him.

Chan smiled to himself and went back to the tracks spread out on his screen, waiting for him to put them together.

Not too far away from him stood Yang Jeongin, walking from the direction of the Social Sciences building. The journalism student had slung his backpack onto one shoulder, a battered notebook in one hand while the other was shoved into the pocket of his light blue hoodie.

Jeongin let his gaze wander around the area, not really trying to see anyone he recognized until his eyes landed on Chan.

The older man looked as busy as he always did, and Jeongin hesitated to approach him although his feet steered him towards the bench. He took a deep breath and forced himself forward, his lips automatically tugging into a smile when Chan noticed him.

“Jeongin, hey!” Chan greeted, ever so cheerful and excited to meet someone he knew on campus. “Where are you headed? Come here, come sit with me.”

“Hey, Chan,” Jeongin sat down beside him and placed his notebook on his lap. His fingers started to subconsciously toy with the thread that held the frayed pages together. “What are you doing here? I mean, no offense, but I never see you outside.”

Chan laughed as he nodded, his hands moving to save the changes he’d made before closing the laptop.

“None taken. I’d be a vampire at this point. But yeah, I’m just here waiting for Felix to finish his discussion over there.”

He pointed in the direction of the gazebo, and Jeongin looked, only for his eyes to widen instantly. The color drained from his lips as if he’d just seen a ghost, and Chan’s voice was drowned out by the sound of his own heartbeat thumping against his eardrums.

“What… What’s Hyunjin doing with Felix?”

“Oh, they’re short film partners,” answered Chan, noticing the sweat breaking out down Jeongin’s temple. His eyebrows were pulled into a frown while he placed the back of his hand on the latter’s forehead, “Are you okay? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

But Jeongin didn’t answer him.

He was too busy having a staring contest with none other than Hwang Hyunjin, who was standing less than fifty meters away.

Hyunjin felt his surroundings darken with every sharp breath he inhaled. It pierced through his lungs and left him fractured inside despite his eyes narrowing and shooting daggers at the younger boy from across the yard.

The thoughts and memories from that one night came flashing in his head like midnight thunderstorms.

Jeongin was there.

He saw everything.

His breathing became more uneven as he delved deeper into the maze of memories—the vacant look of the stranger’s unblinking eyes, his fists painted crimson, sore and throbbing from colliding repeatedly with skin and flesh, and Jeongin… Jeongin standing there on one side of the road, watching every scene unveil before him with quivering lips and trembling knees.

The feeling of ecstacy bubbling inside Hyunjin every time he drove his fist into the stranger’s face was unforgettable. Crunching sounds filled his ears like the music autumn leaves would make when stepped on, the warmth of the red liquid dripping on his knuckles and the metallic smell it produced—everything felt so familiar, yet he felt so far away.

It’s as if there’s a switch inside him, and once it’s turned on the darkness would swallow him whole. His eyes would no longer recognize the faces he admired, and his hands ceased to differentiate between right and wrong.

He had a fire inside him but his heart turned cold.

“Hyunjin?” a voice called in the distance. “Hyunjin!”

His shoulders were shaken, and he blinked.

“What?”

“You blanked out for like five minutes. Do you need a break? You’re sweating,” Felix said, his voice laced with genuine concern.

“I… I just, I need to go to the bathroom,” Hyunjin said before Felix could get nearer. He finally broke eye contact with Jeongin, whom Bang Chan looked overly worried about.

His feet began to take him towards the bathroom behind the library that students seldom used because the lights were out and nobody bothered to fix them. It was always his own timeout room; one where he could drop the mask and be alone with his own demons without other people’s eyes to witness.

Hyunjin tried to bury the look on Jeongin’s face as deeply as he could, but seeing him sitting just meters away for the first time after that night, Hyunjin wasn’t so sure he could keep his calm composure in front of his classmates.

He’d left Felix to discuss with the other people on the team, and he broke into a sprint towards the bathroom once out of sight.

Blood was pumping twice faster in his veins, his head throbbing with every step he took towards the place he wanted so badly to avoid. Hyunjin breathed heavily, his vision blurring with uninvited tears as he pushed open the door to the bathroom using unnecessary force.

His foot met with a trashcan sitting right beside the sink, sending it flying and hitting the wall on the opposite side before it clattered onto the floor with a loud bang. Hyunjin didn’t care if anyone could hear him. He doubted anyone did anyway.

Nobody ever heard him when he needed them to.

When the door slammed shut behind him, the darkness returned. The rays of light seeping through the small windows below the ceiling were the only ones aiding his sight.

Hyunjin threw his fist against the concrete wall and cried out loud when the pain shot through his veins. Images of that night came haunting his mind like a film, replaying the same scenes that he wanted to forget most.

Ignorance was bliss until his mind woke him up.

And then he saw his reflection in the mirror above the sink, and for a split second he didn’t recognize the person staring back at him. His dampened hair disheveled and sticking onto his sweaty forehead, his eyes bloodshot and as red as his knuckles, his skin pale and lips colorless, and his eyes—

They had seen so much, but nothing was carved into his brain as deeply as the fear in Jeongin’s eyes when he found Hyunjin straddling the stranger’s waist, the latter’s blood covering his hands.

In that moment, Hyunjin couldn’t stand the person inside him, and he wanted to turn all the mirrors around.

Jeongin knows, he thought.

He punched the mirror as hard as he could, letting the tiny bits of glass bite into his skin and tear through his flesh. A hoarse scream escaped his mouth as he fell backwards, his back hitting the door to the nearest stall and letting him slide onto the floor.

Hyunjin let the tears flow. He let his face bury into his hands while his muffled cries for help were silenced by the absence of his friends.

He knows I’m a monster.

[ CHAPTER THREE ]

#hwang hyunjin #hwang hyunjin angst #stray kids #skz #serial killer au #voices au #bang chan #lee minho #seo changbin #lee felix #han jisung #kim seungmin #yang jeongin #skz au #stray kids fic #skz angst #voices

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thenovelartist · 4 years

Text

A Bride for the Prince, chapter 17

A03 ~ < Previous ~ Next >

To say Marinette was floating on air was an understatement. Her head might as well be up in the clouds she felt so light. Adrien loved her.

Adrien loved her.

She couldn’t settle down. Not after he’d kissed her completely and totally senseless under the sparkling night sky.

Her heart started racing again. Heat flooded her face as her gut spun into knots. He’d been pressed flush against her, their position deeply intimate all on its own. That alone would get any respectable woman’s face to turn red. But paired with the way their lips had met over and over and over again before his had wandered down her jaw to her neck…

With a shamed whimper, she sunk to her knees on the floor. “Pull it together. Pull it together!” she whispered, scolding herself for having not only allowed Adrien to lay nips on her neck in the first place but likely encouraging him with the way she’d grabbed at his clothes and shoulders and arms.

That was the other thing: hands knew no boundaries. Good lord, what would her mother say if she knew what her unmarried daughter had done with a man? At least she was betrothed to said man and they didn’t escalate to… certain actions done only within the marital bed, but it certainly hadn’t been proper!

Marinette hid her flaming face in her hands, whimpering in pure embarrassment. She’d been raised better than this! She’d always scolded other maids when they slipped out late to flirt with the guards or other staff, chastising them for acting so wanton, yet here she was, the hugest hypocrite possible.

She could not let that happen again. The next time she saw Adrien—

A knock came at the door, one quiet yet frantic. “Marinette!” A familiar voice hissed.

“Adrien?”

“Marinette, please, I need to talk to you.”

His voice was as frantic as his knocks. She hurried over and opened the door.

He immediately slipped inside and shut the door behind him.

Well, so much for being proper with Adrien the next time she saw him.

“What are you doing?” she hissed. She should have stepped away from him. She shouldn’t have been so close. She should be able to control herself.

‘Should’ being the key word. Because she found herself drawn to him like a moth to his flame.

Good bye, propriety, she mentally bid.

“I have to talk to you,” he said, his hands reaching up to hold her arms, grabbing on tightly.

She couldn’t keep her own hands from his shoulders. “Adrien, you’re scaring me.” His grip was tight, but that paired with the tone of his voice and the pain that was evident on his face… “Something’s wrong.”

That pain in his expression intensified to the point she felt like she could feel it. He grit his teeth, his eyes screwing shut as he hung his head with a grimace. His grip got tighter as he tugged her closer. Her heart was racing with worry as her stomach dropped to the floor like lead. Even the way he leaned his forehead against her own didn’t settle her.

“Adrien.”

“Gah! I don’t want to have this conversation,” he growled, pained.

Slowly, nervously, she reached up to grab his cheeks, pushing him away so as to look her in the eyes again. He looked so nervous, and she took up rubbing slow circles on his cheeks in hopes to calm him down. “What’s going on?” she asked. “Let me help you. Tell me. Please.”

“I have to, whether I want to or not.” He sighed, letting his eyes close a moment before opening them up again. But when she met his gaze, she wasn’t comforted by the intensity they held. “You might want to sit down, Marinette. I…” He huffed a sigh. “I have some secrets to tell you.”

A lead weight filled her stomach, making her feel almost physically ill. In fact, it felt like her whole body was full of lead, because it was very hard to move to a seat.

Maybe the bed wasn’t the best place to sit; she did have a chair, after all. That would have been more proper. But Adrien was able to take a seat beside her, taking hold of her hand in a way that reassured her as he began.

“Marinette… I’m not actually a guard.”

Her brow furrowed and head tilted in confusion. “What?”

He rubbed his jaw, sheepish. “It’s just… just a cover. To give me a little freedom.”

Her frown deepened. “Cover? Freedom? What…?”

With a sigh to steady himself, Adrien took both her hands in his, holding on tight as he said. “Marinette… I’m actually the crown prince.”

She blinked, looking intently at his face. Unbidden, a smile came to her face, one that was uncomfortable to wear. Giggles tickled her throat, settling uneasily in her lungs, making them too full to take in a breath she clearly needed to clear her head. “What are you talking about? The… the crown prince? You… You’re the son of… son of a maid…”

His expression was a serious one, no joking in sight. Only pain.

Pain from his admission.

“No,” Marinette said, reality slowly becoming hazy as a dream. Her giggles turned self-depreciating, and her smile fell to a grimace. “No, no. You’re… there’s no… That’s not—”

“Marinette,” he called out to her, interrupting her thoughts by squeezing her hands reassuringly. “Marinette, I’m very serious.”

“But… that’s not who… you said… you said you’re the son of��”

“My mother insisted,” he cut in. “She didn’t want me admitting my true title. That was the condition she gave me when playing with kids outside my class.”

It felt as though a noose was tightening around her neck, air becoming scarce as she struggled to breathe. Her heart beat harder and faster in her chest as a result, frantic and panicked. “I… I don’t…”

“I know,” he assured, squeezing her hands and shifting closer to her. “I know. This is… it’s a lot to take in.”

“I…” Words failed her. What was she supposed to say to that? “You’re the crown prince?”

He nodded. “I am.”

And that’s when it hit her all at once. He was the crown prince. She could see it, his face hidden behind a white mask. She could hear his voice, one that had brought her comfort in a crowded ballroom and joked with her in a garden, running through a maze to escape Nino. And he… the crown prince…

He was vowing himself to her.

“Adrien.” She suddenly stood, pulling her hands away from him as though he’d burned her. Her eyes were wide as she stared at him. He was the crown prince, and she was a servant girl. “You… oh my—no. We… we can’t… You can’t—”

“Marinette.” He stood from his seat, reaching out to her. “Marinette, listen.”

She took another step back, holding her hands close to her chest. Everything was flooding to her at once as her mind struggled to connect the dots. “You… you knew. You knew I was a serving girl. You knew I wasn’t a lady. Why…”

He knew. He knew this whole time. He had all the cards in his hands and played her, strung her along all while having to know they could never… they could never…

Tears were now pouring down her face. “Adrien.”

“Marinette,” he coaxed, finally grabbing onto her shoulders to pull her close. “Marinette, listen to me.”

“Why?” she challenged, unsure if she was asking why she should listen or why he betrayed her. “Tell me why?”

“I’m going to,” he assured. “But please, stop struggling and just let me explain.”

She hiccupped a sob, quickly covering her mouth with her hand and feeling the wet tear trails drip onto her fingers.

He shifted her in his grasp, securing her to him with one arm while using his now free hand to wipe away her tears from her cheek.

But that only made the tears worse.

“Before I say another word, I need you to know I meant everything,” he said, his voice steady and sure. “That I still mean everything. Every word and kiss; I mean it. I love you. I want you as my wife—”

“That can’t happen,” she countered. “So why—”

“I spent days locked up in the castle library looking for anything that said I couldn’t be with you,” he cut in. “Anything. Because once I realized I was falling for you, I knew I would never be satisfied with any other woman for my wife but you. And so I looked for anything that told me that I couldn’t be with you, hoping that I wouldn’t find it. And I didn’t.”

She brow furrowed. “W-what?”

“I couldn’t find anything,” he said. “There were no laws that stated I couldn’t take you as my bride. But…” His expression sobered. “But my father… and his traditions…”

Which meant… She then froze as cold dread crept in “Your father knows…? A-about me?”

Adrien grimaced.

Her knees gave out completely, but Adrien was there to catch her, lowering her to the floor and kneeling in front of her.

“No,” she whispered, her heart pounding as icy fear overtook her.

“Marinette.” Adrien grabbed her cheeks, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Marinette, listen to me. Nothing is going to happen to you. I vow to you, nothing bad will become of you. I’ll do everything in my power to ensure that. But…” He grimaced. “Ah, damn it!” he yelled before resting his forehead against hers, cradling the back of her head to hold her there. “I promised you, Marinette. And I meant it. I still mean it. And if I could, I’d drop everything for—”

“But you can’t!” she cried. “You’re the crown prince. You can’t just abandon everything for me.”

“You’re worth it!” he cried.

Shocking her to the core in the process.

“Yes, I would give up everything for you,” he reiterated, calmer this time. “In a heartbeat. To keep my promise. To be with you. I love you.”

He loved her. He loved her. Loved her enough to throw everything away.

And damn it, she loved him enough to ensure he wasn’t an idiot. “You can’t do that,” she countered. “And whether you want to or not, you know you can’t, Adrien. You have a kingdom who needs you… More than I do…”

Adrien paused, his face contorting into a grimace. “I know,” he reluctantly agreed. “I know my kingdom needs me to care for it. I can’t abandon my people. If I knew the next of kin would rule justly, I wouldn’t be so hesitant to abdicate, but I can’t abandon my duties. Because if I do that, then you…” His expression turned pained as his eyes turned glassy. “I could protect you from the world, but not from my father. Not fully. And I can’t… I can’t…” He squeezed her tight. “I can’t put you in danger because I want to be selfish. In the end, I love you and have to do what’s best for you. I have to do whatever it takes to protect you even if it means I can’t be with you.”

Her heart was in shambles at this point, along with their relationship. They could fight all they wanted, but in the end…

In the end, it was all for naught.

“Damn you.” Tears poured down her face. “How dare you come into my life again, only to leave me like this. You become my best friend for the second time, then go and make me fall in love with you, steal my first kiss, then ruin me for any other man before finally revealing that I could never have had you all along!” She slammed her hands against his chest, the pain in her heart growing stronger. Just as a new wave of tears and hysteria washed over her, she smacked him again, grabbing tightly to his shirt as she cried, “Damn you.”

He looked physically pained by every word out of her mouth. “I deserve that.”

She choked on a sob, hanging her head as the tears overflowed and poured down her cheeks. Her hands still entangled in his shirt, she held him at a distance, knowing it would only worsen the pain if he were close.

Yet, he carefully dislodged her hands from his shirt, using them to pull her closer to him as he shifted closer to her.

And she was too weak to put up a fight.

She found herself in his arms, held tightly up against his chest as she sobbed her heart out. If she were a little more cognizant, she would have realized she wasn’t the only one in tears.

It took a while for them to settle, him clinging to her and her clinging to him. Neither were willing to let go of the other.

“If I had my way, Marinette,” Adrien spoke up, voice hoarse from the tears. “If there were any way I could keep you, I would.”

She knew that. She really did.

“But… in the end, I will have to pick a bride tomorrow.”

And it won’t be you, she mentally finished.

“Even though I’d marry you in a heartbeat if given the chance.”

She sniffed again, already exhausted from crying but nearly ready to start up again. In the end, she forced herself to pull away first. He was clearly hesitant to let her go, if the way he held her was any indication. But from her new vantage point, she could see his red-rimmed eyes and the tear trails down his own face.

Don’t do it. Don’t do…

But she did, reaching up to wipe the tears from his eyes, and allowing him the chance to grab her hand and hold it to his cheek. She didn’t have the will-power to pull away, an action she regretted when he pressed a lingering kiss to the palm of her hand.

It would be the last kiss he gave her. It would have to be, or her heart would stop right then and there.

“Adrien.” She pulled her hand away. “You have to go.”

Oh, those words hurt, but it was clear they hurt him, too.

“You… you have to pick a bride.”

That’s not me and will never be.

“This is where we…” Tears flooded her eyes as the last words got choked up in her throat. “We part.”

Her voice finished with a squeak, but it was the best she could manage.

Adrien looked nothing short of utterly crushed. “Damn it,” he whispered, leaning forward to press their foreheads together one last time.

She cherished the feeling, knowing that when she pulled away, it would be the last.

“Just go,” she whispered. “There’s… there’s no way to make it… make it hurt less.”

“I know it,” he said. “And I hate it.”

She did, too.

Yet, he stood. Then, like a gentleman, he helped her stand, too. Where they held hands for a moment longer before letting go after one final squeeze. The moment he dropped her hands, Marinette took a step back. And Adrien lingered, looking at her with tears in his eyes.

“I love you.”

She could have cried at his words. “Stop making it hard,” she chastised.

With a heartbroken expression, he started to back away towards the door. Thankfully, she had the good sense to realize those were not the last words she wanted to ever say to him.

“I love you, too.”

Adrien froze, hand on the door handle as he stared back at her, mouth open slightly in surprise. It was quick to turn into a pained smile, though.

And that was the last thing she saw before he slipped out the door.

Once he was gone, she broke, crumbling into a thousand little pieces as she collapsed onto her bed and sobbed her little, shattered heart out. She clutched the sheets, screaming into her pillow as her body shook with grief.

She didn’t know how long she allowed herself to be that severe of a mess, but once she pulled herself together and started processing everything, she knew… she knew she couldn’t stay here. The love of her life was going to pick a woman to marry, and it wasn’t going to be her. She couldn’t stand it. She just couldn’t.

Though completely exhausted, she had a new determination, one driven by the throbbing pain pulsing through her. She scurried through the castle, into the servants’ quarters as she tried to find which room held her carriage driver.

Once she figured it out, she roused him with the quietest knocks on his door she could manage. She remembered their conversations when they first set out on this journey and the knowledge they would have to be prepared to leave on a moment’s notice should anyone ever become suspicious of her. Marinette had thought that maybe, thankfully, they’d have been able to get away without using their emergency plan.

However, she had been wrong.

She told him to ready the carriage and that she would go pack her things and then they’d be off. With a nod, he was quick to leave.

Marinette then slipped out of the bedroom hallway, thinking that she was going to be able to escape the servants’ quarters without being seen.

“Marinette?”

Her heart jumped in shock. Marinette whipped around towards the voice to see Alya standing there, her eyes wide with surprise. “What’s wrong. You’re a mess!” she hushedly observed, rushing over to her friend.

Marinette took a step back, causing Alya to freeze in her tracks. “I have to leave.”

Alya looked completely confused by those words. “What do you mean? What happened?”

Marinette shook her head. “I… I don’t… I can’t…” She bit her lip to keep her tears from falling. “I have to go.”

“Marinette—”

“Please, Alya,” she said. “Please. Let me go. I don’t want to talk about it.”

Alya’s expression softened. “Okay,” she said. “But do you have to go?”

“Yes,” Marinette said. “So I have to go pack—”

“I’ll go with you,” Alya said.

“No—”

“Please,” Alya said, voice full of concern. “Let me help.”

After a moment of silence, Marinette surrendered. Silently, the two girls hurried back up to her room, packing her trunk of things before Alya offered to assist her in taking it back down.

Soon enough, the driver found them.

“I have one more trunk in my room,” Marinette whispered to him. “A smaller one.”

He hurried off to grab it. And the next thing Marinette knew, she was packed up and ready to be driven out into the night.

“Marinette,” Alya began.

“Thank you for everything,” Marinette said, keeping her distance from her newfound friend. She couldn’t hug her knowing that she’d burst into tears if she did. “And, please, for the love of all that is good and wonderful and lovely, please don’t tell Adrien that I left. Don’t tell anyone.”

Alya looked hesitant, but after a tense moment, she sighed. “All right,” she relented. “If that’s what you want.”

With a sniff which started up the tears again, Marinette nodded. “Yes,” she squeaked. “I really beg you to do that for me.”

With a sympathetic look, Alya walked forward, her arms out. And though Marinette knew her tears would worsen, she couldn’t hold back from giving Alya a hug anyway.

After a moment of crying into Alya’s shoulder, Marinette pulled away. “Thank you for everything,” she said, whipping the tears away for the umpteenth time that night.

Alya nodded. “Of course. And if you need anything else from me, I’ll always be here for you, okay?”

“Okay,” she said, walking backwards towards the carriage. “Thank you, Alya.”

Alya raised her hand. “Stay safe.”

“We’ll do our best.” With that, Marinette boarded the carriage, giving Alya one last wave out the window before the driver started up the horses into the night.

She watched as the castle slowly grew smaller and smaller as they drove out into the night. Eventually, the castle grew too small to see, and she finally pulled her gaze away from it, from the place that housed so many memories.

She settled her hands in her lap, and that’s when she noticed

She was wearing Adrien’s lucky charm on her wrist.

With a pain in her heart, she hesitantly ran her fingers over the beads, memories flooding back with such painful intensity she couldn’t hold back the tears. Grabbing onto the beads, holding them close to her chest, she sobbed.

When she had first arrived at the castle, all she had needed to do was avoid the prince and ensure that he never had his eye on her. And she thought she’d succeeded. The thing she didn’t plan for was having another man fall for her. Yet… yet he’d been a guard. That was in within her station. It was a surprise but acceptable and a blessing, even. But…

But for life to play such a cruel trick just wasn’t fair.

She was supposed to be a Lucky Ladybug. So why…

Why’d she have to go falling for the prince?

#miraculous ladybug #fanfiction #A Bride for the Prince #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #angst #oh boy are you ready for the angst #because I'm going to destroy all your little hearts with this chapter

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hadesglance · 5 years

Text

All hail the new queen... - 17 (Hades Original Story)

You fought your way through the maze of the underworld to make a deal with the King…intrigued the lonely king listens…

Part One Part Two Part Three Part Four Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight Part Nine Part Ten Part Eleven Part TwelvePart Thirteen Part Fourteen Part Fifteen Part Sixteen

After doing a quick run around and saying hello to everyone, helping your mom dice some tomatoes, you quickly made your way back to the garage. Hades had given you such an adorable look of pure ‘please help me’ that you had to make sure he was alright.

You came back out wiping your hands on a dish towel and saw him with a beer in hand talking to the other men of the party. He looked completely different then his normal self, and you didn’t like it. You told him to dress down and he did, but man…you missed his suits. The beer just took it too far…you weren’t even sure if he liked beer…

Everyone seemed intent on his words and it made you wonder if he’d used his godly charm on them. You had asked him not to unless either of you slipped up, but you knew he’d been pretty nervous about this whole situation despite denying it every time you asked him.

You stood there watching him speak with hands a little before everyone laughed aloud. You took the opportunity to walk over and give him an out if he needed one, “Hey, what grand story were you telling this time?”

“Oh, just the one about my brothers, Zack and Phillip, crashed through Zack’s wall wrestling and how Hannah reacted so poorly and then somehow I was wrapped up in the story of how it all started to begin with, so in the end all three of us ended up fixing the wall.” You smirked at him knowing exactly who you were talking about, but had no idea to what incident he was referring to. Thankfully, Hades clued you in, “You cousin Leo, regaled us how your brother and he decided to go swimming and dive off the roof but instead had to fix the chimney when they pulled it down. They asked if I had done anything like that.”

You put your arm around his back like a normal couple would do. You felt him tense only briefly before relaxing into your embrace putting his arm over your shoulders, “I do remember that, Papa was angry. It took them all summer to fix it.”

“It seemed logical that roping the chimney and scaling it would work for two fifteen-year olds.” Leo shrugged as your other cousins punched his arm and ruffled his hair laughing.

“Well gentleman, the ladies are restless and would like to meet my date, can I steal him for a while?” You quirked an eyebrow looking at them all.

“Oh no…Nick, it’s a trap.” Your uncle waved at him to stay, “You won’t come back they’ll rope you into all of their lists.”

The rest of the laughed but didn’t disagree as you laced your fingers with his walking toward the door. Hades set his beer down on a work bench nodding to all of them, “I don’t know, might not be so bad, I’ll get a better portion if I get on the ladies’ good side, right?”

You giggled as you pulled him inside stopping in the entry hallway where they could be alone for a moment. You looked up at him in the small space, “How are you doing?”

You watched him take in a deep breath before he nodded, “Your family is very animated.”

“Yes, as most Greeks are. We love to be expressive, but are you okay?” You squeezed his hand.

“I’m doing alright.” He smiled at you as children ran in from outside pushing you toward him. He grabbed you around the waist pulling you close so you wouldn’t be trampled by the laughing parade.

You stared into his eyes for a moment as heat began to rise on the back of your neck. His eyes were so blue right now as you felt a tingling sensation on your arm, “Sorry…”

“Don’t be…” He whispered keeping you close to him still.

The magnetism you felt in that moment was undeniable and you were disappointed when you heard your aunts calling your name, “Coming!”

You stepped away adjusting your dress a little, smoothing it out before looking back to him, “You might have wanted to keep that drink, ‘cause this is where the fun really begins.”

His eyes widened a little as you brought him through the house. From fear? From panic You would never know as you showed him around as you went. It was an older retro house, and the décor hadn’t really left the 70s, but it was home even with all the strange angles and walls covered in pictures of every generation.

You brought him into the living room were the ladies sat drinks in hand. They all looked up at you as you stood with him. Instantly their eyes widened, and mouths drop openly slightly at the sight of him.

‘Damn straight, and about time.’ You thought to yourself with satisfaction, ‘Now leave me alone you harpies…’

“Everyone, this is Nick.” You smiled putting a hand on Hades arm.

Your mother stood up walking over to him smiling, “I remember you. You were Jonah’s doctor.”

Hades eyes widened in surprise as your mother pulled him into a tight hug, “Oh…uh…yes, I was.”

“I can’t ever repay for what you did for my boy. You gave him back to us.” You could see some tears in her eyes as she kissed his cheek several times.

“I was just doing my job…” He looked down to her before looking over to you, “Actually, it was Y/N, who brought me the case. If she hadn’t, I wouldn’t have done anything.”

You smiled at him as he boasted for you, “Well you made an impression that first visit to the clinic. I had to try everything…”

He reached down taking your hand, “I’m not complaining in the least.”

You mother clapped her hands together suddenly bringing them to her lips kissing them toward Hades, “And now you’re making an honest woman of my daughter.”

“Mama…” You blushed instantly embarrassed by her antics, “people don’t talk like that anymore.”

“Oh hush, I’m your mother.” She smiled at you looking back to Hades, “Nick please come sit down, Y/N, get him a drink.”

“I’m alright…” He looked at you as your mother started dragging him toward the couch. This time he did not let go of your hand like before. He was not going to be left alone again it seemed.

You squeezed his hand following him. You perched yourself on the armrest as he sat next to your mother. She began to grill him on every topic. Profession, childhood, parents, siblings, past relationships, current relationship, future relationship…

You were mortified, but every time Hades answered, he did so beautifully. Every answer was crafted in a way that told the truth while keeping their charade up. He was truly wonderful, and you were going to have to repay him somehow. Especially as he weaved his answer for the last question.

“Well, Ana, I know Y/N and I haven’t been dating more than a few months.” He rested his hand on your knee looking up to you smiling, “But I can honestly say, she has made me a better person. She brings clarity to my decisions that I didn’t know I needed, and I hope that I make her as happy as she makes me.”

You took his hand giving it a squeeze as the room buzzed how he should have been a politician. If they only knew that he was in his own way. If they only knew who they sat with, would they fall down prostrate asking for forgiveness? You doubted it and you didn’t care about what the hens clucked about in that moment. You were just focused on what he said thinking to yourself as you basked in his very presence, “Hades, do you mean it?”

Your eyes widened instantly when you heard his voice in your head as he lifted your hand to his lips kissing your fingers as he stared into your eyes, “Every word.”

Your heart thumped loudly in your ears as heat just burst through body. Your lips parted slightly as your free hand began absently fixing your hair. What was happening to you today? You swore the curse of the Underworld must have followed you here because you felt like your emotions were at eleven on a scale of ten.

“Y/N, you should go introduce Nick to Gigi. She’s in her room. I’m sure she’d welcome a new friend.” Your mother told you as she and a few aunts stood up, “Then come join us in the kitchen to serve everything up.”

“Right, will do.” Hades was to his feet first offering his hand to you. You took it as you licked your lips staring up at him as everyone else moved from the room, “Did…did you…”

He leaned down pressing his mouth to your ear whispering, “Every single word.”

His face came back into view. Not only had he heard you, but you heard him. You chalked it up to being bonded to him for the moment, but the idea that you could do that was…exhilarating and terrifying. What else had he’d heard from you over these few months?

Your face flushed a deep red at all the thoughts he may have heard as you took him down another hall past the kitchen to a length that only held doors. You passed all of them coming the last one that was opened slightly.

You stopped turning to him, “Gigi…she’s gotten sick over the last few years and…well she doesn’t talk anymore, but she’s still knows you’re there. So just…for few minutes we’re going to visit with her. It’s okay to be a little awkward.”

“I understand.” He nodded before following you into a room covered in old Greek runes and a small alter burning incense. You could tell by the way he looked at everything he recognized all the detail Gigi had put into it.

In the center of the room sat your grandmother in a wheelchair. She had a blanket over her lap as she sat a little slumped staring off to where you didn’t know. You hoped someplace happy. It always broke your heart to see her like this.

“Gigi…” He followed you to a small love seat next to her, “I wanted you to meet someone really special to me.”

Her expression and eyes never changed even as you took her hand in yours. You sighed closing your eyes for a moment before looking at him. He gave you a warm smile of encouragement. You knew no one else was down this way to overhear, so you took a deep breath looking back to your grandmother.

“This Hades, Gigi.” You felt him shift next to you as you spoke softly, “He saved Jonah’s life and in exchange I…I’ve become his consort... I wouldn’t have been able to believe in him, if it wasn’t for you.”

You looked at Hades who stared at you surprised for a moment before looking to your grandmother, “…hello…Gigi…”

You giggled a little, “I know it’s a little strange, but I know she can hear us even if she can’t respond.”

“It’s not that…Hold on.” He stood up looking out into the hall before he shut the door. He turned back to you taking off his jacket tossing it to the couch and began rolling up his sleeves.

“What are you doing?” You looked at him worried.

“The faith in this room is something I haven’t felt in a long time, and she believes in all of us. I can hear her right now. She says that dress looks very flattering.” You stared at him eyes wide as he knelt down in front of her, “It’s so uncommon, that I believe it’s time she be rewarded for her diligence in this changing world.”

Looking into Gigi’s eyes before he smiled he spoke with such attention you felt a lump in your throat, “Kyra, can you hear me?”

You watched as your Gigi blinked once. Hades reached out taking both of her hands holding them to his face as he gently placed his forehead against hers. Gigi’s eyes shut and you watched them both carefully in the still room.

Finally, you saw a tear roll down her face as Hades smiled again. Worry filled your chest, you trusted him, but you weren’t ready to say goodbye to her yet, “Hades…”

“It’s okay.” He whispered reaching out taking your hand instinctively. A blinding flash filled your vision and suddenly you were in a wide-open field. You looked around confused until you felt a pair of familiar hands grab your shoulders. You looked back seeing Hades, “Welcome to Elysium.”

He pointed out away from them. You followed his direction and saw a couple standing near a tree. They were locked in each other’s gaze. The young man held the woman’s face in his hands as he smiled. They were so happy…so in love…

“She missed him so much…but she said she’s not ready to be here yet.” Hades spoke softly to you helping you calm down, “It wasn’t hard to find Atticus though, their love is strong and even in death he stays true to her.”

Your hands went to your mouth as tears came to your eyes until you finally spoke, “That’s…”

“Yes…” He nodded coming to stand by your side taking your hand in his, “That’s your grandfather, your Papa.”

“You did this for her.” You looked up at him tears falling down your face, “Hades…thank you…thank you so much…She…I…”

He brought his hands up to your face brushing away your tears. You never felt so safe, so cherished, “No crying. I did this because I know how much she means to you. You mean just as much to her.”

You stared into his eyes felling overwhelmed. He cared for you enough to allow this. You knew it probably wasn’t something he often did, or even if it was allowed.

He kissed your forehead before embracing you tightly which only made things worse. You felt so vulnerable around him sometimes and today around your family…and then this…how you were you supposed to not cry?

“Y/N?” A familiar voice without its normal rasp touched your ears, “Is that really my little bird?”

You looked over as your Papa and Gigi walked up. They looked so young, just like many of their pictures of being in Greece. You nodded wiping the tears away as Hades released you, “Papa?”

“I know I look a little different…” He laughed but threw open his arms and you ran forward as he hugged you tightly, “But I still know how to hug my favorite grand daughter…Gigi, told me what you did for your family. Silly girl…always running in with your heart on your sleeve.”

“Shush…you’ll insult him.” Gigi slapped his arm and you couldn’t help but laugh as he winced away still holding you, “Forgive him Lord Hades…”

“He isn’t wrong.” Hades smiled stepping closer to you when you let go, “She did just that, ran into my temple, heart out, with no care for herself, and I accepted it.”

“Gigi…” You looked at her so young and vibrant. You choked up feeling emotions you didn’t know you still harbored. Your grandmother was the only one who listened to you and understood, “I…”

“Oh dear.” She reached forward pulling you to herself, “I am so proud of you. So, so proud. We all are, though I know you don’t hear it enough. Always outshined, but I see you even if I can’t say anything, I want you to remember that. I love you.”

“And I am always thinking of you. All of you.” Your grandfather touched your shoulder looking over to Hades, “I think it’s time for you to go sir…”

You looked over to Hades seeing sweat dripping down his forehead as he smiled shaking his head, “Take your time.”

“Sir, I know the laws and you may be able to bend them as this is your domain but living souls shouldn’t be here.” Atticus looked to Kyra, “I miss you so much…but I will be here when you’re ready.”

Kyra stepped up to him kissing him. It was enough to get you crying again as you stepped back to Hades. He took your hand and whispered, “Shut your eyes…”

You obeyed feeling a cool breeze brush against your skin until the familiar smell of your grandmother’s incense filled your senses. You opened your eyes seeing a sweating Hades staring into your Gigi’s eyes a smile firmly planted on her face as he spoke softly, “Thank you, Kyra…”

You sat concerned and confused as he placed her hands back in her lap. He leaned back sitting on the floor running a hand through his hair. You checked on Gigi first wiping the tears from her face before you sat on the floor in front of Hades, “Are you okay?”

“I’ll be fine.” He smiled at you taking in a deep breath in, “Your grandfather was right, I shouldn’t have done that, but for one so devoted how could I not.”

“Hades…I…” You stared at him unable to find the words to express how much this meant to you.

He shook his head as he kept smile, “It’s okay…I’d do it again just smile for me the way you did there.”

You felt a whirlwind of emotions beating against your chest as you sat there with him. Unable to contain it any longer you leaned forward kissing him. You felt him fall back a little catching himself with one arm as the other landed on your side.

You expected him to pull away from you as your hands landed on his chest. To finally remember that you were a mortal and that he wanted nothing to do with you in that manner. That you were just a companion like you had originally agreed to be. Not his consort. Not his wife… just Y/N.

But he didn’t. His lips moved against yours as he pushed back gaining his balancing. His other hand found your neck keeping you were you desired to be until he was done with you. At which point he rested his forehead against yours nudging his nose with his, “Is it too early to go home now?”

You laughed a little shaking your head, “Don’t tease me.”

“I would never.” He whispered against your jaw before he sighed, “But this is a conversation for another time…”

Licking his lips, he helped right yourself and you both stood up in front of your Gigi. You blushed clearing your throat, “I’m so sorry, Gigi…”

Hades reached down touching Gigi’s hand, “She says it’s the most entertainment she’s had in a while.”

You laughed again before leaning down kissing her cheek, knowing that is exactly how she would have responded, “I love you, I’ll come visit more alright? Maybe even drag him a long with me.”

“I won’t mind.” Hades told you as he put his jacket back on.

You stepped out into the hall with him slowly walking back down toward the kitchen. You swallowed looking at your hands, “Well…we…”

He stopped you putting a hand arm and pushed your chin up to make you look at him. He smiled a little before leaning capturing your lips for a second time. You trembled as you reached out grabbing onto his jacket as you pressed on to your toes to push into the kiss.

He parted away from you again brushing your hair back into place for you. His eyes were bright like stars in the sky as he spoke, “You taste like sunshine and I just want to bask in it.”

You swallowed nodding dumbly in a haze from the last fifteen minutes of events. He took your hand in his kissing your finger as he led you down the hall to everyone. He very calmly told them that he was being called away for work. You said your goodbyes promising to not be such a stranger.

You stepped into the car looking back at the house seeing your father stepping down the driveway. You felt a tightness in your chest as he smiled and waved at you as you backed out of the driveway. He blew you a kiss like he always did and of course you caught it putting your fist to your heart.

Hades looked at you as he drove off taking your other hand in his, “Everything alright?”

You kept your hand to your heart nodding slowly, before looking to him with a smile, “Yeah…everything’s good…”

#ALL HAIL THE NEW QUEEN #all hail the new queen...#Hades #hades and persephone #hades mortal #hades/reader #HadesGlance #hades/mortal #hades reader #Zeus #poseidon #hera #elysium #king of the underworld #the underworld

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hellishmess · 4 years

Text

17: Irritating Love

August 25,2018

I ducked, dodging an arrow by the skin of my teeth.

Rey and Hardy were crouched down behind me. The stack of crates were the only thing keeping us from becoming pin dolls.

Twisting my hands, I sent out my magic, reining it in to 15 feet. Rey shivered as the death spell passed through her, leaving her unscathed.

To our right, a strangled cry sounded out in alarm. It ended with a bodily thump.

"Come on," I grit out, pissed at the lack of weapons I had.

We make it two feet before gun shots fire from behind me. I whirl to see Rey with a pistol in hand. The man she shot fell to his knees.

I kept going, weaving our way out of the maze of shipping crates.

"Aspen!" Hardy yelled out a warning, but I was already on it. A huge lift barreled for us, the forked side first.

I grabbed at my magic, wrapping it around the heavy machinery. The muscles in my arms tensed as I flung it away from us. It hit a stack of shipping containers, knocking the top one off. My ears rung from the screeching of metal attacking metal.

We kept running, darting from path to path. They surrounded us again. Rey led us to a bunker corner of two crates. We crouched down.

How many men were there?

Rey squeezed Hardy's hand in hers, gripping her pistol in her right hand. He buried his face in her neck, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek.

"I'll die for you," he muttered.

She grabbed his face, making eye contact before sincere lip contact. "I'll die for you first."

"No one here is fucking dying!" I snap.

Both of them look at me, shocked by the sharpness of my voice. I inch towards the edge of the crate. A red burning line was drawn blocking our exit. It was bad news. I knew the spell. It'd burn us from the inside out if we ran through.

I briefly considered taking the time to break the spell but cast it out. It could take too long. The goons could be on us in seconds.

I look up. God if you're real...

Holy shit. The lightbulb shines over my head as my brain cells work to form a functional idea.

"Rey how many bullets do you have left?" I ask.

She checks. "5 counting the one in the barrel."

"Okay. That's not bad. Here's what we're going to do. I'm gonna cast a magical protection spell over us and Hardy you're gonna use your shields to help prevent us from being shot down."

Hardy nods but his eyebrow cocks at my use of words. "Shot down?"

A grin forms and I point up. "Yep. We're like mice in here. We don't know the territory like they do and I'm getting the faint impression that they're leading us to a trap. So we're going to run on the top of the crates. Where we can see the end and get the hell out of here."

They share a glance before standing up. "What if we can't make a jump?" Rey worries, watching Hardy climb to the top.

"I have us on that front," I say wiggling my fingers. "Don't worry. Just make sure you aim to kill and that your boyfriend can keep his shields up."

She nods, turning to climb after him. I can see the ripple through the air as Hardy manifests his shields.

I didn't wait for Rey to reach the top to climb. Instead, I climbed beside her.

My spell of protection was subtle, but I wrapped it around us in two layers.

Yells from below got us moving. Goons ran for us. Several had hellhounds on leashes. Huge, ugly dogs with hellfire in their eyes. Their jaws snapped as they saw their marks. With barks so loud it invoked fear in the dead, the air that came out of their lungs was even toxic.

I paused. My hands in claws as I twisted and snapped their necks one by one.

Hardy led us towards the edge of the maze. We were sprinting along the tops of the crates, hopping between the cracks.

"Aspen!" He warned again. I looked forward and saw that he was leading us towards another row. The jump was huge.

"I got us. Go!"

Hardy kept our pace even, not looking back as he took a leap of faith. Soon we were all rushing forward on our own momentum. With a small effort, I raised us up and carried us over the rest of the 4 feet.

Hardy paused, a grin broken on his lips. "That was cool!"

Rey clamped a hand on his shoulder, pushing him forward. "Congratulate later!"

She screamed. A big burly man had managed to climb up with us. A gun raised in his hands. There was no hesitation when he fired three shots.

Hardy gripped his palms. With his hands in tight fists, his shields stopped the bullets where they were.

People were starting to file down below us with guns, whips, and knifes in hand. One dude even had a bat and chain.

"Go go go!" I yelled.

Hardy barreled ahead, lowering his center of mass as he used his shields as a battering ram. The burly man didn't stand a chance. We tossed him over.

We crossed over to another row of crates, this time able to make the jump without my assistance.

I felt foreign magic try to take hold of us. It touched my barrier, but dispelled soon after touching it.

"Holy shit we're almost there." Hardy yelled.

He turned and hopped onto the last length of shipping crates.

"Shit," he swore, hesitating.

I saw why. There was a group of 5 standing down the line. Even more were on the ground below us. All of them blocked the exit.

Hardy winced, his eyes closing from concentration as bullets rained at us. Three of the five had guns and all of them were shooting at us.

Rey didn't hesitate. She fired three shots over Hardy's shoulder. All of them hit home in the dudes with guns. They fell to the ground, dying. One pressing the trigger and shooting at his comrades on the floor before stilling.

A twitch of my fingers had their guns flying across the lot. Only one came towards us.

Rey caught it. "Cool an uzi."

She laid it down on the ones at our feet. In my peripheral, I saw her hit a good many as they broke formation and scrambled away.

I ran towards the remaining two. One with a broad sword and the other had a chain with a heavy ball at the end.

The man with the chain went for me first. I jumped, dodging the blow to take out my legs. I got up and personal. Jabbing his eyes, before punching his throat. He choked, coughing as he swung blindly.

I felt the air split as the sword came for me from behind. He hoped to cut through my spine with a swing that heavy.

Dropping to the floor, I slide between the chain dude's legs, giving him a hard blow to his junk.

He yelped, high pitched and whiny.

I rolled back to my feet in a crouch. The sword had dug deep in the body of his partner. The man was a goner. Blood sprayed everywhere. His screams raised the hair on my arms.

The dude with the sword looked panicked. He grabbed the dude and shoved him off the crates. Anger flushed his face. "You."

I stood, shrugging my shoulders. "Me."

He ran for me sword first, a battle yell tore from his throat.

Dodging was always easy, but now that this man was letting his emotions carry his attacks it was especially easy.

I brandished a thin blade from my belt, making tiny cuts wherever I could when I moved away from the path of his sword.

He stopped, huffing as he realized his mistake. He was as bloody as his fallen friend. His skin clammy and pale.

I cut every major vein and artery on his arms, nicking his artery on his big throat too.

"Sorry." I apologized, before drop kicking him to the ground. He didn't get up.

I was alone up here.

Hardy and Rey were back to back, fighting the ones left that were stupid enough to still fight.

A whip wrapped around Rey causing her to tumble forwards. A pirate pulled her towards his with a dirty smile. I dropped down to help her, but Hardy got to her before me. His shields forgotten in desperation to help her.

He grabbed her, tugging back.

I grabbed a discarded gun and shot the pirate.

Rey unwrapped the whip.

We all made eye contact, all of us on the same page. We got up and ran like hell.

No one followed us as we hit the streets. The evening shadows cloaked us as we headed for the hidden car.

Hardy got there first, jumping into the drivers seat as Rey grabbed shotgun and I dove into the back.

Our doors weren't even shut before he had us spinning away from the docs.

Adrenaline and potholes made the ride rough, but thankfully we made it back to the highway.

It was silent as we all caught our breath.

"I think that asshole broke my wrist." Rey said, savoring her right hand.

"Shit." Hardy said, "Let me see."

"No dumbass you drive." I said, popping up from the back. I turned to Rey. "Let me see."

I turned on the light and saw the discoloration of her wrist. It was a swollen mess, but there was no bone sticking out and no visible protrusions.

"Jesus." I said. "It wouldn't surprise me if it was broken."

"Is it?" Hardy asked. "Can you even tell?"

"No really." I answered before asking Rey, "Can you move it?"

She tries but only gains tears. "No," she breaths out in shakes.

"Okay. Okay. Give me your hand," I said.

Hardy picked up speed as he drove us to base, taking a sharp exit that flung me and Rey to the side. "What are you doing?”

A whimper leaves her lips when she straightens up.

“I’m going to heal her injury,” I snap. “Christ what do you think I’m going to do?”

“Sorry,” he scoffed, focusing back on driving.

I pull energy from the world, focusing on the signals her body gives off along with the connections and disconnections in her wrist.

The magic soaks into her skin, restoring the cells that were broken. It only took a second.

“Holy shit,” Rey gasps. “It’s fixed.” She wiggles her wrist. “Thank you.”

I sigh, resting back. “Welcome.”

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bisexualstevierogers · 5 years

Text

Closet (Gally X Reader) {SMUT} [High School AU]

Fandom: The Maze Runner series Pairings: Gally X Reader, Newt X Thomas (minor) Word Count: 2,594 Warnings: Underage sex, as Gally and the reader are in high school. I'd say they're around 17! This contains EXPLICIT sexual content! Do not read if you're uncomfortable with that! I'm not the greatest at writing smut, and I'm really trying to improve, so please be gentle with me!! Author's Note: I have a sequel to my Colin Ritman fic in the works, but this fic was closer to being done so I figured I'd edit it and get it posted! I have several more Gally fics in the works, along with several Newt fics and some Spencer Reid fics!! 💖 As always, feedback warms my heart!!

Why did it have to be Gally?

Your eyes flickered around the circle before landing on Gally. The same person your bottle had landed on only moments before.

It wasn't that you hated Gally or anything; as a matter of fact, you found him quite attractive. But Gally had been a complete asshole to Thomas, your brother's boyfriend, for as long as you could remember. He was constantly calling him names and picking fights with him, and Newt had made you promise to stay away from him.

Gally must've seen the hesitation on your face because he got up slowly, like he wasn't expecting you to follow him.

A game was a game and you weren't going to back down yet. You followed Gally into the closet as you set a timer for seven minutes on your phone. Minho locked the door behind you with a chuckle.

“I just want you to know that I don't expect us to actually do anything.” Gally spoke softly, and you were a little surprised by the sincerity in his voice.

You looked at him thoughtfully. “I won't lie, I think you're cute.”

You watched as Gally’s cheeks flushed faintly under the flickering bulb above your head.

“But I gotta know why you're always such an asshole to Tommy. If you don't like him because he's dating my brother, we definitely won't be doing anything. I don't date homophobes.”

“What? No, that's not why I dislike Thomas.” Gally seemed shocked that you would even think that. “It's a long story.” Gally said after a beat of silence.

You checked the timer on your phone. “We still have six minutes.” Gally chuckled and sat down with his back against the wall. You took a seat next to him.

“In elementary school and middle school, me, Newt, Minho, Alby, Frypan, and Chuck were all inseparable. Then freshman year rolled around and Thomas showed up, then Newt and Thomas started dating. Then Minho started going on dates, and Alby got a boyfriend, and whenever we tried to hang out, somebody was always busy. So we just stopped making plans. I can't remember the last time we all hung out together.”

You looked at him incredulously. “So your solution to missing your friends was to be a dick to the boyfriend of one of your friends, which did nothing but further ostracize you from your friends?”

Gally nodded sheepishly.

“Why didn't you just talk to them and tell them you were feeling left out and that you missed them?”

“I don't deal with emotions very well.” Gally admitted, and you looked at him thoughtfully. You checked the time on your phone again. Just under four minutes.

“Men are so clueless sometimes.” You said teasingly, before scooting closer to him and placing a soft hand on his cheek. “Maybe I can help you with that.”

Gally’s eyes flickered down to your lips, and you noticed as he unconsciously licked his own.

“Can I kiss you, Gally?”

“Please.” He breathed out, his pupils incredibly dilated.

You leaned in and gently kissed him, enjoying the way his lips felt against yours. Gally seemed to enjoy it too, surprising you as he pulled you onto his lap (not that you were complaining).

“You're so pretty,” He said sincerely, his large hands rubbing circles on your hips. You whined and pulled him into another kiss. Gally's hands were everywhere; your hips, your thighs, your ass, before sliding up your stomach to your breasts. He gently squeezed them underneath your bra, and you keened softly.

Gally's lips suddenly pulled away from yours, and you whined for a moment before they found their way to your neck and began kissing and licking and sucking at the skin he found there.

“Gally, please, I-” Your words were cut off as your phone's timer began to chirp. You and Gally groaned simultaneously.

You smiled apologetically at him as you stood up and began straightening out your shirt and your skirt. Gally did the same, and not two seconds later Minho flung the door open, hoping to find you in a compromising position.

He looked disappointed when he realized you were both fully clothed. He looked a little less disappointed when he saw the hickey that was blossoming on your neck.

You watched him begin to raise his arm to point it out and immediately shot him a death glare. “Keep your shucking mouth shut, Min.” You hissed, and Minho raised his hands up in surrender.

Gally and Minho watched in amusement as you made your way through the party and out the front door.

“Dude, you HAVE to tell me what happened.”

Gally just chuckled and followed him out of the closet at a much slower pace.

------

It had been almost a week since your makeout session with Gally in the closet at Minho's party.

You hadn't spoken to him since, aside from when necessary in class or a hi in the hallways. It wasn't that you didn't want to, you just didn't know how to bring it up. You were attracted to Gally sexually, that much had been obvious, but you thought you might be romantically attracted to him too. And that was not good because Gally himself had told you he wasn't good with emotions. These thoughts were swirling around in your head as you pushed open the door to your house.

You heard voices talking in the living room, but you assumed it was just Newt and Thomas and you were planning on heading straight up to your room to get started on some homework.

“Hey, __y/n__. Can you come into the living room? We have a guest.”

You slowly peered around the corner, and your heart sunk when you saw that Newt and Thomas were sitting on the couch with Gally. You padded into the living room and pressed a kiss to Newt and Thomas’s cheeks as a greeting before taking a seat on the recliner across from the couch.

Gally’s eyes were on you the whole time, and you couldn't help but notice how dark his eyes were. You prayed your face wasn't as red as it felt.

“So, __y/n__, Gally says we have you to thank for helping him to realize that he was being an idiot.” Thomas said lightly, patting Gally’s shoulder to let him know there were no hard feelings.

“Well, you know, men aren't the best at communicating and I think it all really stemmed from that. I just encouraged him to try talking to you guys.”

“You helped me realise what an asshole I was being. Thank you, __y/n__.”

Gally’s eyes were on you once again, and you felt your cheeks darken as your time in the closet came back to you.

If the timer hadn't gone off when it did...you would've let Gally fuck you in that closet. You couldn't understand why. You weren't dating, you were hardly even friends, and you wanted him to fuck you more than you'd ever wanted anything.

“You're welcome,” You said politely, before rising from the chair. “I'm super happy you guys are friends again, but I have some homework to do, do you mind if I head upstairs?”

“Not at all.” Newt answered easily. “Love ya, greenie.”

“Love you too, shuckface.” You called back as you made your way up the stairs. Your clothes felt too tight and your whole body was too hot.

You made a beeline for the bathroom, hoping a shower would help clear your head. It didn't work. By the time you were out of the shower, you were still just as horny and you were flustered because you forgot to grab clothes before your shower.

With your towel wrapped firmly around you, you decided that booking it to your room was your best option. You only had to make it across one hallway. You opened the bathroom door, walked two steps, and instantly collided with a large, solid body.

As you stumbled and fell to the ground, you heard Gally's voice apologising profusely.

“It's fine, Gally.” You assured him as he helped you to your feet. You realized just how close you were to him when you noticed that you could count all the individual freckles on his cheeks and nose.

Gally's gaze slipped down to your chest, which barely remained covered with your towel. You tugged him into your room before shutting the door behind you. Gally had you pressed against the door almost immediately. His hand cupped your cheek as he tilted his head down, letting his lips gently brush against yours.

“You're not gonna run away this time, are you?” He asked quietly, and you shook your head immediately.

“I'm sorry about the party. And then not talking to you after. I didn't know what to say other than…” You trailed off hesitantly.

“Other than what?” Gally questioned, using his hands to pull your legs apart. You felt his hot breath on your core before he began pressing kisses to your bare thighs.

“Other than it was a good thing the timer went off when it did or I would've let you fuck me in that closet.”

Gally groaned before looking up at you. “You would've?”

“Yes, and that terrified me. I've never felt like that before. I've never even kissed anybody that I wasn't already dating.”

“That's so hot.” Gally murmured before he began eating you out in earnest. His tongue fucked in and out of you several times before he focused on your clit, licking and sucking it into his mouth.

“Gally, you need to stop or I'm gonna cum.”

Gally ran a finger along your slit gently before he began to slide it into you. It barely even hurt with how wet you were. He slipped in a second one as he continued to eat you out. One finger began to rub your clit while his tongue focused on your folds and he continued to finger you.

“C'mon baby, cum for me.” Gally suggested, his voice deep and rougher than you'd ever heard it, and that was all it took to tip you over the edge, your walls clenching around his fingers as you came.

You were so grateful to Gally for practically carrying you to your bed as your knees gave out from underneath you.

“C'mere,” You urged, pulling him on top of you so you could kiss him deeply. You made out like that for a few minutes, and you could feel how hard he was through his pants. “Gally, you're wearing way too many clothes.” You announced, hiding your smile as Gally scrambled off the bed and immediately began to strip.

Your mouth began to water as Gally revealed himself to you. You already knew he was strong, but seeing his bare arms paired with his bare chest was a new experience completely. Not to mention his large thighs and his long, thick dick.

You moved over and patted your bed, encouraging Gally to lay down. Instantly you were between his legs, one of your hands gently grabbing his dick and beginning to jerk him off.

Gally groaned at the contact. You kissed him as your hand moved, delighting in the way his breath caught when you twisted your wrist.

“You are so fucking hot, Gally.” You murmured as you broke the kiss and knelt between his legs. “So hot.” You repeated before sucking the head of his dick into your mouth.

“Oh my god,” Gally gasped, one of his hands twisting into your hair.

You took more of him into your mouth before developing a rhythm of sucking him down as deep as you could, lapping at the head of his dick, jerking him off, then repeating the process.

It only took a few minutes before you felt Gally's thighs begin to quiver, and his breath came in short bursts.

“__y/n__, baby, please stop. I don't want to cum before I fuck you.”

Reluctantly, you pulled off of his cock. You were pleasantly surprised when Gally dragged you up his body and into a rough kiss. He flipped you over easily, and ran his cock up and down your slit teasingly.

“Gally, please.” You whined, but Gally shook his head.

“Where do you keep your condoms, babe?”

“There should be some in the...in the nightstand.” You barely managed to get out as Gally continued to tease you. He moved away from you to grab a condom and you wanted to cry out at the loss.

Thankfully, he was back just a few moments later and he was already rolling the condom onto his dick.

“C'mon Gally, give it to me.” You urged, spreading your legs and revealing your dripping pussy to him.

Gally needed no further prompting. He lined himself up with your entrance before slowly pushing himself inside. You both groaned as he sank in all the way.

“God, baby, you feel so good.” You whined, wrapping both arms around his neck and pulling him into a deep kiss.

Gally began fucking you while you continued to kiss, and you choked out a soft cry at how well his body fit yours. Your eyes flickered open to meet Gally's and you were a little shocked at all the emotions you saw there. Lust, happiness, and adoration. You could easily see yourself falling in love with Gally.

One of Gally's hands cupped your cheek sweetly as he began to trail kisses down your neck. Your neck was your biggest weak spot and you moaned louder than you intended.

“Shhh, baby, Newt and Thomas are still downstairs."

You had completely forgotten there were still other people in the house. There was no way they wouldn't figure out what happened after Gally reappeared after however long he had been gone. And yet, you couldn't find it in you to care about that right now.

You were removed from your thoughts as Gally's hand moved from your cheek to your breast. He squeezed gently before pinching on your nipple, then switching to your other breast. You left deep scratches down Gally's back as he suddenly began fucking into you harder than before.

“Oh, Gally,” You whined, pressing kisses to his cheeks, chin, lips, throat; anywhere you could reach. Gally began rubbing your clit in time with his thrusts, and you knew you wouldn't last much longer.

You didn't think he would either, judging by how heavy he was breathing and how fast his heart was pounding.

“I'm gonna cum.” You warned, and Gally took the opportunity to kiss you deeply, tongue flicking across your lips before fucking into you the same way his cock was.

The parallel had you clenching tight around him, moaning his name as your whole body shook. Gally waited until you were done before pulling out of you and taking the condom off. He jerked off over you, and after several seconds he came onto your chest and stomach.

“That was so hot,” You whined, fighting the urge to touch yourself after the show Gally had put on. “Next time though, you should cum in my mouth.”

Gally's eyes widened. “There's gonna be a next time?”

You chuckled, wiping yourself off with a dirty shirt before pulling Gally close to you so that you could snuggle him.

“You didn't think I was gonna let you go after that, did you?” You asked teasingly. “You're stuck with me now.”

“Fine with me.” Gally murmured, pressing a kiss to your sweaty forehead. You totally owed Minho a thank you for throwing that party.

End. <3

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prettywordsyouleft · 5 years

Text

The Sex Contract - Chapter 19

Genre: friends to lovers au / friends with benefits / mature content / romance / angst

Characters: Shim Changmin x Kaia Ashton (OC)

A/N: Due to the overwhelming request I have followed your encouragement to bring back one of my older stories. This was back in a time where OCs were everything and writing one chapter in each main’s point of view was the trend. I hope that even though I have edited this drastically, that you can appreciate this story comes from my older style of writing. I definitely still read this often and find it enjoyable so I hope you will too.

Prologue | 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 - FINAL

Chapter 19 – Changmin’s POV.

“Would you sit still? You’re making me feel sick with all the fidgeting beside me Changmin.”

He looked at the stylist and blinked once. “I’m not moving.”

“So then your presence is simply making the feeling of an earthquake shake my body?” Nayoung disputed, raising a perfectly arched eyebrow at him. “I thought we left them behind in Tokyo just now.”

Yunho chuckled from the seat in front of them. “Our Changminnie is nervous to be back in Seoul.”

“Am not!”

“Ah, this wouldn’t have anything to do with the mysterious departure of my favourite journalist would it?” she asked with a smirk. Changmin rolled his eyes before leaping in fright as her manicured hand slapped his arm. “I really liked Kaia too, Changmin-ah!”

“How is any of this my fault? She was the one to leave in the middle of the night, not me. I’ve contacted her and apart from her texting me her location, she hasn’t replied back so can we please drop the topic?” Changmin folded his arms across his chest and glared out the window. The pair wouldn’t stop however, and he started to feel angry.

“You are an idiot if you think this isn’t your fault.”

“Noona!” Changmin cried at the insult and Nayoung merely stared at him. “You can’t talk to me like that!”

“Oh, just because I’m staff you think I’ll hold my tongue? Should I beat it out of you?” She hit him again and Changmin lifted his arms defensively.

Looking ahead at Yunho’s amused expression, Changmin gaped at him. “Help me!”

“She’s only beating it into your thick head,” he said, turning to point his index finger at Changmin. “That you miss Kaia and that you have driven us all bonkers with your mood ever since she left.”

Changmin’s attention slipped to think about Kaia finally, and he let out a dejected breath. He didn’t just miss the British girl, he felt lost and incredibly hurt. The last conversation had been replaying over in his head for the final four days of the time in Japan, his mind creating several scenarios of how he could have handled everything better. Changmin still didn’t understand why Kaia was so upset with him, the answer looming around the corner and only frustrating him further. Yunho was right; his mood had dropped completely, the sudden disappearance of his life rock unsettling Changmin like he was on a boat upon a stormy sea. And now being back in Korea, Changmin had no idea how to approach the situation. He wondered if the storm would settle now that he was back on homeland.

“Oh, that reminds me,” Nayoung mentioned, her voice piercing Changmin’s thought bubble. “Isn’t there an English lesson tonight?”

“You are simply cruel.” Yunho laughed as he blinked rapidly.

“Oppa, I’m merely reminding him as part of the schedule. I’m going to be working on your new outfits tonight and needing measurements for the preliminary fittings so you will be at the building for most of your day anyway,” Nayoung continued airily, though her dark eyes darted to look in Changmin’s direction twice. “Will you be able to make it?”

“Sure,” he said, smiling weakly whilst his mind went into overdrive.

Walking through the corridor maze of SME’s building, Changmin slowed his pace as he came to the stretch of classrooms. The door to the English room was closed, and he wondered if Kaia was running late as it was usually open by now. Feeling his breathing get hitched in his throat as he slowly approached the room, Changmin quickly ran through his plan of attack. He decided he would try and get the girl aside at some point, apologise for making her feel the need to leave and hope she would then in turn open up to what he had done to drive her out. Changmin knew it sounded slightly weak, but he was still at a loss as to what the issue was as he had been back in Japan too.

“At least you’re trying something,” he muttered under his breath and with a nod, pressed on towards the door. Just as he reached it, Kyuhyun rounded the end corner and smiled brightly at him.

“Hey! Welcome home,” he greeted and then nodded towards the door. “Shame that class isn’t scheduled today though, was looking forward to it since Kaia has been away all this time too.”

“What?” Changmin asked, moving quickly to the door. On the window was a note attached, announcing that English class had been postponed for a month. He reread it quietly and flinched when Kyuhyun’s hand reached for his shoulder.

“I’m sad too, it’s been so long. Do you know why Kaia has taken a leave of absence?”

Changmin stared at him, and shook his head. “No.”

“Oh, I thought you two were close?”

Changmin tried not to let his words feel like little stabs into his heart, but they still had the same affect. Smiling again, he nodded once and lifted his hand in farewell. “I’m going to use my free time wisely Kyu, I’ll pay for a meal together soon, okay?”

“I’ll hold you to that!” Kyuhyun called after him, but he didn’t respond, instead all but running to the underground garage. After borrowing a company car, he sped out into the evening traffic, accelerating the sedan across to Kaia’s home. He had no idea what he was doing, working off of instinct to confront the girl. Much like the time regarding the start of their contract, Changmin knew if he slowed down to think of his actions, he would stop completely.

Pulling the car to a halt in an empty carpark, he ran up into the apartment building, knocking repeatedly on the front door. A petite Korean girl opened it a moment later, her almond eyes dilating. She let out a small scream and then slammed the door shut. Frowning, he waited a moment, trying to listen for noises behind the door. Changmin heard the muffled sound of female voices talking quickly and put a hand on his hip, tapping his foot impatiently. Deciding to knock again, he raised a hand up to the wooden barrier, just as it was reopened.

Kaia stared at him for a moment, and Changmin felt a surge of emotion wash over him. She had cut her hair that he loved so much; it was at least two inches shorter, the curls looking looser than usual. Her face held no makeup, and she was in her sweats but she still looked beautiful. He wondered why he was taken back by everything at that very moment.

“Are you wanting to come in or to continue looking at me?” she finally spoke and Changmin blinked away his thoughts, letting out an awkward cough.

“Ah, come in.”

“Alright.” She walked away and left him to shut the door, her friend peering out from the kitchenette. Changmin shot her a weak smile.

“Sungra?”

Her eyes swelled again. “You… you know my name?”

“Kaia talks about you a lot.”

“So what do you want?” the English girl interrupted, folding her arms across her chest as if she was putting on armour. Changmin wondered why she was acting so cold towards him.

“Can we talk?”

“Aren’t we already?”

“I think I’ll just go to your room for a bit, okay?” Sungra said and with a slight bow, she left the room. Kaia seemed a little uneasy without the presence of her friend and Changmin chose it as his chance to get things out in the open.

“Why are you being so distant? You haven’t answered any of my calls or messages since you told me you were back here.”

Kaia busied herself with folding her washing. “I’ve been working hard.”

“Liar.”

“If you’re going to come here and accuse me of things Changmin, I don’t want to hear it.”

“I just want to know why my best friend is avoiding me like the plague. What did I do wrong?”

“Isn’t it obvious to you?” She glanced at him for a moment and then sighed, looking away. “Then again I doubt you’re ever going to understand it.”

“Try me.”

“The answer should be inside you.”

“Don’t give me riddles like Yunho does, Kaia!” He panted a little from his outburst and then pointed at the girl. “What did I do?!”

“That’s the thing, you did nothing but keep to your end of the contract.”

He blinked. “What did you say? I did nothing? Then how come I’m being punished right now?!”

“I’m not punishing you Min,” she told him heavily, dropping the towel. “I just couldn’t continue doing what we were. And I told you that.”

“Yes, but we’re friends.” She glanced away. “Aren’t we?”

“It’s best I just stay away from you for awhile.”

“So that’s why you cancelled your English lessons.”

Kaia moved back to her door and reached for the handle. “If that’s all you had to come here for-”

“I miss you. I feel like a big part of me is missing and I want to find it. Please Kaia, I need you.”

“Changmin,” she said softly, the walls she had built around her looked unsteady. And then she squared her jaw and shook her head. “I can’t go down that path anymore. You don’t need me as much as you think.”

“Why not?”

Kaia sighed. “Because you were doing fine without me before I came along-”

“How do you know Kai?! You can’t say that when you weren’t there. Come on, you know me; I don’t go running after things unless I believe in it. And I care about you.”

“I’m going to start seeing Jaewon romantically,” she blurted out, her cheeks reddening.

It was a heavy blow. Changmin even staggered at the confession, his eyes going to the floor. “So you chose him, over me?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well you just said that you’re spending time with him, meaning you don’t want to with me anymore.”

“I think it’ll get too messy, what with everything we were doing. We did put the clause in the contract, if one of us decided to date, to call it quits.” Kaia moved from the door and went over to the desk against the wall. He didn’t follow her however; feeling like his energy had evaporated. Changmin wondered how he was still standing with how weak his legs felt. She returned to his side, holding the original copy of the contract. Changmin held his breath, watching her actions. “The contract is in void now because I’ve chosen to date someone.”

And with that she ripped it in half. He blinked, and then realised he was close to tears. “I’ve got to go.” Flinging the door open, he hurried out of the building and over to the car, turning the alarm off and sliding in behind the wheel. He then sat there for a moment before slamming his hand down on the steering wheel as the tears began to fall.

His phone started to ring and he hastily wiped my emotions aside, hitting talk. “Kaia?”

“Who’s Kaia darling?” A distinctive voice questioned, a hint of danger within her tone. Changmin groaned, not wanting to talk to Kaori right now. “Changminnie?”

“I’m busy.” He then hung up the call, putting the car into gear and speeding off before the tears came back.

_________________

Part 20

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spideynewt-blog · 6 years

Text

Lost (The Maze Runner: Minho imagine)

A/N: Hey guys. This is my second imagine. There are two writers on this page, me (Nic) and Tina. From now on we’ll write at the top who the author is. If you guys have any requests, let us know.

Author: Nic

Word Count: 1,680

The smell of coffee was overpowering as Y/N entered the small yet extremely busy café. “Hey Y/N! Over here!” Teresa called out to the clearly exhausted girl. Waving in response, she weaved her way through the crowd to the table her friend was sitting at. Teresa stood, embracing her friend. Y/N shrugged off her blazer, draping it over the back of her chair before taking a seat, a yawn sneaking out of her mouth before she could say a word.

“Someone’s tired. Long night at the lab?” Teresa asked. She worked longer hours than anybody and still managed to look flawless. Her skin was a perfect porcelain without a wrinkle or blemish in sight, with her flowing curling locks pinned away from her simple yet beautiful face, ready for the day ahead.

“It was indeed. Janson wants the new workspace ready by the end of the week, but I just don’t think it’s possible. There’s too much equipment at headquarters to bring over. And then I’ve got to find away to transport the infected test subjects without letting them loose on the city. I just don’t think I can do it T.” Y/N ranted, letting out a breath she didn’t know she was holding in.

“Everyone knows there’s a lot of pressure on you right now, but if anyone can do it it’s you. Ava and I were actually wondering if you’d like to come to the HQ today and look at the test patients. Might give you some ideas. She even suggested you could talk out any issues your facing with her. She has a great problem solving mind.” Teresa suggested, showing nothing but kindness and support. “But Y/N tell me honestly, are you still not getting any sleep?”

Any sign on Y/N’s face of excitement regarding her proposal disappeared as she asked that question. Anyone who knew Y/N knew that she hadn’t slept in months, maybe even longer. “T, why would you ask that? You know ever since..… No. Do you know what? I don’t even want to think about it. Not now. I’m already having a stressful week. I’m getting three hours a night, max. But that’s enough”

“No Y/n it’s not! I’m worried about you. We’re worried about you.” Teresa’s eyes showed sympathy, the emotion both the young women despised the most.

“I can’t do this right now Teresa. I don’t have the energy or the attention span so can we please just head to WCKD and get this over with.”

“Of course and if there’s anything you ever need. I’m always here”. And with those words, they both stood, Teresa bringing her coffee as they walked out the still overly crowded store and began heading towards the largest skyscraper in the city.

The walk to the WCKD tower was a short distance from where the coffee shop was located. For most of the duration of the journey, neither of the girls chose to acknowledge the elephant in the room, the giant wall separating them, from the rest of the world, from it.

“How long is that wall really going to work?”

“Indefinitely I suppose.” She was lying. Everyone knew it but no one wanted to argue it. Y/N couldn’t help but think about the people she lost, mostly outside of the giant concrete walls that felt more damaging than protective. Her gaze lingered at the wall before zooming across the landscape before her. Perfectly laid pavement paths, fountains, organized road traffic, orderly commuters, beautiful (mainly glass) buildings. The city was perfect. It made her sick to think about all those outside just wanting to get in and be protected by the damn walls Y/N hated so much. She’d give it all up in a heartbeat to be reunited with her best friend, and she wondered if Teresa felt the same.

The minute they walked through the glass doors, the extensive security measures were blatantly clear. Three rows of different security checks and badge scanners laid before them. “Don’t worry about it, Ava was expecting you.” Teresa’s smile was warm and inviting as they both started to go through security.

After passing the extensive security checks, Y/N followed the brown haired beauty into the elevator. Growing up, Y/N had always been jealous of Teresa’s natural beauty and intelligence and how she seemed to gain the attention of most adults, and later boys. After navigating what felt like a maze of levels and corridors, they arrived at a gigantic door, that towered far above their heads to the ceiling.

A silent knock came from the left as a soft voice called out “Enter” in response. Y/N pushed the door open gently to reveal an older lady, who’s face she recognized so well, dressed in all white. “You must be Y/N. It is pleasure to meet you. Ive heard only good things from Janson and Teresa.”

“Thank you Ava, that means so much. And thank you for agreeing to talk to me. I know you’re extremely busy and the work you do is so important so I really do appreciate it.” Y/N’s smile didn’t falter, keeping up the happy-go-lucky facade so many believe in.

“Of course my dear. I can’t imagine how hard your job has been without being able to see the full extent of what you are having to export.” Ava explains offering Y/N some water, which she accepts, before moving over to the large window wall overlooking the city.

“It has been difficult, but every job has its challenges. I understand that what WCKD do is fundamental to our survival and I didn’t want to interrupt anybody.” No one could deny the view was truly amazing from that height. The way the sun bounced off the glass buildings and echoed through the closed in space created by the concrete barrier, between them and the scorch.

“Well let’s eliminate one of those challenges. Teresa please give Y/N a full access pass so she can see what she is dealing with.” Ava commanded. This was the first sign over the intimidating nature Y/N had heard lied within Ava.

“Fu.. full access? Are you sure?” Teresa stumbled, clearly nervous about Ava’s request.

“Yes Teresa.” Ava gritted her teeth as Teresa gulped. “We have nothing to hide here.”

Y/N was suddenly alarmed by the tense atmosphere in the room. “I will give her a guided tour myself to ensure young Y/N is shown everything she needs to see. You are more than welcome to come alone Teresa, if you’re busy work schedule will allow it?” Both Ava and Y/N turned toward Teresa.

“I’ll clear my schedule if I have to”

“Very good.” Ava’s soft smile she had initially displayed when the two entered the room, once again lit up her ageing face.

**********************

“And this is the trials ward.” Ava gestured to the many separate labs all separated by windows that were made of anything but glass. Test patients were banging on the windows but not even seeming to dent the material. Y/N made note of the extremely sturdy material, wanting to take every precaution available to ensure the infected did not get loose in the streets of the city.

“So 40 infected. How many immunes?” Y/N asks both Ava and Teresa, to busy scribbling away on her notepad to look up at the two women, now wearing pristine white lab coats.

“25.” Teresa said sheepishly. This caused Y/N to look up, moving a stray strand of hair behind her ear to get a better look at Teresa’s expression. It was hard to read. Somewhere between scared and secretive. “And one extremely special case. Subject A5”

“Male or Female?” Y/N fired back quickly.

“Male.” Teresa answered just as quick. Ava removed herself quietly, entering one of the nearby labs to inspect progress.

“How old?”

“17.”

“Powerful?”

“I’d say so.”

“Hm.” Y/N pondered. “I better take a look. If he’s as important as your nervousness suggests, he’s going to need extra preparation and procedures.”

“No Y/N I’m really not sure that’s a good idea.” Teresa exclaimed suddenly. Y/N was confused at Teresa’s sudden outburst. Realizing she wasn’t going to take her to the ‘special immune’, Y/N entered the door she’d saw Ava leave through.

“Ava,” the scientist turned to face Y/N. “Would it be possible for me to see Subject A5?”

“Yes, of course. He needs to be kept under close watch, especially during this move.” Y/N nodded in compliance. “Follow me.” The three women walked in unison, Ava, followed by Y/N, followed by Teresa, down the long corridor of lobs and holding rooms full of immunes until the reached a glass door with an additional security pad.

Ava tapped in a code that neither girl paid much attention to, respecting Ava’s authority. As they entered the next wing of the complex building, the clinical white walls became a navy blue and grey with compliments of white. The atmosphere was calmer than the labs before. There were less people running round, showing the immense pressure of their work on their faces. It was odd. Y/N knew something was wrong.

Ava stopped in front of a steel door and opened it, in what felt to Teresa like, slow motion. The sudden movement of the door caused both young women to jump suddenly, and as Y/N stepped into the light and saw subject A5 for the first time, she felt as though her world was being torn apart and glued together all at once.

She remembered the good memories she had of the two building blanket forts together, spending hours inside watch movies and eating ice creams. She remembered the water fights in the summer and the Hot Chocolate by the fire in the winter. She remembered it all. The laughter. The tears. Their first fight. Their first kiss. Their only kiss.

Y/N turned to Teresa, tears threatening to fall. “Minho?” It was barely a whisper.

A/N: There could be more parts to this if you you would want to read them

#the maze runner #the death cure #maze runner imagine #tmr minho #ki hong lee #the maze runner imagines #the maze runner imagine #ki hong lee imagine #minho imagine

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danfanciesphil · 6 years

Text

Phan Teacher AU (Part 4)

(Part One)

(Part Two)

(Part Three)

This is all Mr Horowitz’s fault.

Okay, so it’s also a little bit Dan’s fault for forgetting to bring an umbrella, or even a sensible coat, but in his defence, he had no idea this would happen.

Normally, Dan’s walk to the bus stop after school is little more than two minutes, and so far he has always made it in time to catch the 3:17 bus. It’s a good thing too, because Dan knows that the next one doesn’t come for another hour.

He’d been on his way to catch this same bus, in fact, when Mr Horowitz caught his arm, asking whether, before he left, he’d just run upstairs to the labs and clear up the experiment from the last class. Dan, being the school’s servant boy, couldn’t exactly refuse. He’d raced up to the labs at just after 3pm, cleared the desks in lightning speed, run a broom over the floor and sprinted to the bus stop.

But alas, the sight with which he was greeted was the tail end of it, chugging into the distance as the rain pelted down.

So now, Dan is stood, shivering like mad, in the downpour. It’s currently 3:30pm, and he still has another 47 minutes before the next bus.

“Fuck you, Horowitz,” Dan mutters under his breath, which comes out in a silvery puff of steam.

He wraps his thin jacket around himself a little tighter, rocking on the balls of his feet. Students keep passing him by, some sending sympathetic looks, and some chuckling at his plight. Dan knows he must look an absolute sight; his hair is probably plastered to his head, and his smart shirt and skinny jeans are so drenched that they’d fill a few jugs if they were wrung out, he’s sure.

“Wanna use my Physics textbook as an umbrella, sir?” A Year 11 student Dan vaguely recognises calls out as they walk past, laughing.

Dan shakes his head with a grim smile. “No thanks,” He replies, as tactfully as he can bring himself to be.

It’s at this moment that a car pulls up to the bus stop, pausing right beside where Dan is stood.

The window rolls down, and Dan’s immediate instinct is to run away - a product of the copious amount of ‘stranger danger’ warnings instilled into him during his teacher training.

Then, the driver of the vehicle leans across the passenger seat, and Dan nearly wails. It’s Phil. Of course it’s Phil.

“Hey!” Phil says, a glimmer of amusement in his cobalt eyes. “Need a lift?”

Trying his best not to think about the fact that he looks the worst he ever has, Dan forces a tight smile, leaning towards the open window.

“Hey, hah- yeah, I didn’t exactly prepare for the weather today.” Dan says, chuckling at himself. “But it’s okay. Thanks for the offer but I live really far away. I’ll just get the next bus.”

“When’s the next bus?” Phil asks.

A car behind him slows to a stop, unable to get past. Dan glances up at it worriedly. The driver, an older man in a suit, looks impatient.

“Um, in forty-five minutes. Ish.”

Phil’s eyes widen, his mouth falling open. “What?! You’re planning to wait here in the rain for that long?”

Dan tries to give Phil a bright smile, like he’s fine with it, but a raindrop falls from his forehead into his eye, making him wince.

“Y-yeah, it’s okay, I’m-” Dan cuts himself as a sneeze surges up out of nowhere; he just about manages to turn away, aiming it into the crook of his elbow.

When he looks back up at Phil, he does not look pleased. “Dan,” he says, his voice dropping to his firm, teacher tone. “Get in the car.”

Partly because the gentleman behind Phil has begun honking his horn, and partly because his knees have jellified at the sound of Phil speaking to him this way, Dan pulls open Phil’s passenger door and climbs in.

It’s so warm inside that he could cry.

“I’m gonna get your seats all wet.” Dan says mournfully, trying to take up as little space as he can.

“They’ll dry.” Phil tells him, turning the heater up until it’s blasting over Dan’s face and chest. “There are more important things than courtesy, you know Dan.”

Dan turns to him, trying to work out whether Phil’s annoyed. He watches silently as Phil pulls away from the kerb, joining the thick muddle of after-school traffic inching its way towards the main road.

“My mum raised me to be a polite young man,” Dan jokes, trying to lighten the mood.

“My mum raised me not to put my health in danger for the sake of asking a friend for a lift once in a while,” Phil replies, looking over at Dan. The windscreen wipers squeak as they battle the awful weather. After a moment, Phil sighs, his expression softening. “Sorry, I don’t mean to have a go at you. But come and find me if you miss your bus again, okay? I’d rather drive a bit out of my way today than have you turn up tomorrow with pneumonia.”

Dan nods guiltily. “Wait till you see how far away I live before you get too generous.”

“Wow,” Phil whistles, eyebrows raised as he stares down at Google Maps on his phone. “You weren’t kidding.”

They’ve pulled into a layby, the rain still thundering against the glass. It doesn’t matter though, because Phil’s car is warm and dry. It’s littered with little plastic toys, highlighting Phil’s quirkier side. There are Marvel superhero bobble-heads blu-tacked onto the dashboard, and the cupholders are filled with keyrings that look like they were won out of those two-penny slot machines.

There are also sweet wrappers scattered around - skittles, starburst, pick ‘n’ mix, or anything sugary and colourful.

None of it seems anything other than incredibly endearing, though. Dan could spend hours rifling through this car, which is so intrinsically Phil, just learning about him through his clutter.

“Yeah,” Dan says awkwardly. “It’s a forty minute bus ride.”

“You do that every day?” Phil asks, looking up at him in wonder. “Twice a day?”

Dan shrugs. “It’s not that bad.”

It would be a lot worse if he had nothing to look forward to once he actually got to the school, Dan thinks privately.

“Um, don’t worry about taking me all the way,” Dan says quickly, “just drop me at another bus stop or something on your way home-”

Phil flaps a hand at him distractedly, turning back to his phone. He pinches the map, searching the screen for a route to take.

“No, no, I don’t mind taking you,” Phil says, chewing his lip. He looks up, out of the windscreen, appearing to have some sort of internal debate. “It’s just... well, do you mind if we make a stop?”

Dan blinks at him.

“Uh, a stop?” He asks, uncomprehending.

“Yeah,” Phil replies. “It’s just that I need to let my dog out. Would you mind if we stopped at mine on the way? I’ll take you straight home after.”

Dan pauses for a moment, the words not sinking in straight away. Phil wants to take him to his house, where he actually lives, and he’s asking if that would be a problem.

“Phil, you’re literally rescuing me from a storm,” Dan says slowly, watching the bashful smile spread over Phil’s gorgeous features. “You could drive me via the Eiffel Tower if you wanted.”

Phil grins at him, putting his phone down and releasing the handbrake. “Maybe we should save the Eiffel Tower for another time.” Phil side-eyes him, questioningly. “Like in two weeks?”

Dan’s already racing heart picks up a little more speed, the fact that he is currently en route to Phil’s actual house beginning to seep into reality. He laughs, feeling awkward about what Phil is implying.

“Yeah, I still haven’t decided whether I’m coming on the trip yet,” Dan says, hands clasping together in his damp lap.

“You know it’s free for teachers, right?”

“I’m not a teacher.”

Phil smirks. “I’m sure I can persuade John to let you in free of charge.”

“Who?” Dan asks.

“John. Mr Green.” Phil clarifies; Dan just stares blankly. “Vice Principal of the school?”

“Oh,” Dan says, vaguely remembering a ‘VP Green’ showing him round on his first day. “I haven’t seen him since I first started. Sorry.”

“Well, he’s coming on the trip.” Phil tells him. “So, that’s a perfect opportunity to get to know him better.”

“Right, because having an awkward conversation in Paris with the Vice Principal of a school I’m heavily under-qualified to work at is top of my to-do list.”

Phil laughs heartily, pulling off the main road into a suburban maze of small houses. They can’t be more than ten minutes from the school. Dan gazes out of his rain-speckled window at the idyllic neighbourhood, trying not to be too obvious about how badly he wants to soak it all in.

“You’re not under-qualified.” Phil says, leaving no room for argument. You’re one of the best TA’s I’ve ever had.”

Dan stays quiet in the face of this statement, not sure how to handle it.

“Besides,” Phil continues, to Dan’s relief. “John’s actually a pretty cool guy,”

As it has rather often since the film screening on Wednesday, Dan’s mind wanders to thoughts of Paris, of being there with Phil and the rest of the Year Nine class. In his current state of awkward, socially inept pining over the class’ teacher, Dan’s not sure he’d be able to handle the experience.

Yes, it would be an amazing opportunity, and undoubtedly fun at times. But the class already tease Dan, sensing his overly-fond opinion of their favourite teacher despite him trying to keep it under control. It’s hard to imagine an entire weekend of that, in the so-called ‘city of love’, whilst attempting at least a shade of professionalism.

Not to mention how uncomfortable the whole thing could make Phil.

“But I don’t wanna pressure you.” Phil says, interrupting Dan’s tumultuous thoughts. “I just think it’d be fun if you came.”

Before Dan can properly comprehend that statement, let alone reply to it, Phil is pulling the car over and switching off the engine.

They’re parked in the middle of a quiet, orderly street, right outside a cute little bungalow, complete with a neat front garden and little pathway to the front door.

“You live here?” Dan asks, awed by how... lovely it is.

Phil chuckles, unbuckling his seatbelt. “No Dan, I brought you to someone else’s house and we’re going to break in.”

Dan turns to narrow his eyes at Phil, who just laughs more.

“Come on, let’s get inside - it’s still belting down.” Phil says, unfastening Dan’s seatbelt before he gets the chance.

Dan takes a deep breath in a vain attempt to prepare himself for what’s about to happen, and follows Phil as he hops out of the car, and jogs to the front door.

If Phil’s car is telling of his personality, his house is as though he’d cracked open his chest, scooped handfuls of his soul out and splattered it all over the walls.

Dan has never seen any sort of interior design that represented a person so well before. It’s not just visually appealing, it’s also a spectacle to behold. Dan’s sure that by just opening one random drawer in Phil’s house and glancing at the contents, he’d understand a thousand more things about this man, strange and enigmatic as he is.

They enter into a small entrance hall, painted a sunny yellow. There’s a semi-circular welcome mat on the floor, made to look like half a pepperoni pizza. On one wall hangs a large mirror, in a bizarre, warped shape, the edges curved as though they’d been drawn by a child.

There’s a tall cheese plant in one corner, and on a table below the mirror sits a potted scarlet anthurium. It’s a colourful room, and Dan’s very aware that this is only the very entrance of Phil’s house.

Before Dan can comment on the aesthetics - which he greatly appreciates, having lived in a cheap, falling apart, ‘student house’ for some time now - a small creature tears through the doorway on the left, bounding towards them, barking shrilly.

Phil crouches down to greet it, gathering the bundle of excitable fur into his arms immediately, laughing. Mouth falling open in an adoring ‘o’, Dan drops to the floor instinctively, an overwhelming urge to pet this animal forcing him to its level.

“Dan,” Phil chuckles, receiving several licks to his face. “This is Buffy.”

It lets out a ‘ruff!’ upon hearing its name, turning to Dan, tongue hanging out as it surveys him. In a millisecond, the dog is wriggling in Phil’s arms, struggling to be free. It worms its way out of Phil’s grip in a second, leaping across to Dan’s lap, tail wagging excitedly.

“Oh my God,” Dan says, cuddling the dog close to himself as he strokes and scritches and pets its soft, caramel fur. “This is the cutest dog I’ve ever seen in my life. What breed is it?”

“She’s a paperanian,” Phil says, moving to sit cross-legged on the floor. He laughs as Buffy begins frantically licking at Dan’s face, front paws on his chest as she attempts to reach him. “A pomeranian-papillon mix.”

Phil strokes along her back, fondly, his hand occasionally brushing across Dan’s.

Dan is giggling into the shock of Buffy’s fur, relishing the adorable, happy temperament of this dog. His only family dog had been a springer-spaniel when he was young, and it had died before he’d had a chance to bond with it properly.

“Unff-” Dan says, voice muffled as Buffy licks eagerly at his chin. “How long’ve you had her?”

“About a year and a half?” Phil replies, smiling warmly. “I used to volunteer at a shelter when I lived in France. I didn’t mean to get attached, but I couldn’t help it. So I adopted her.”

“She’s adorable,” Dan says, stroking over her soft, pointed ears as she begins to calm down, happily settled in Dan’s lap. “I think I’m in love.”

Phil glances up at Dan, eyebrow raised. For some reason, Dan finds himself blushing. “I get it.” Phil replies. “I fell in love on sight.”

Dan holds Phil’s gaze for a moment, any responses getting caught in his throat. Buffy barks, stealing their attention, and Phil giggles at her. He stands, scooping her up from Dan’s lap and into his arms.

Dan tries not to pout about this.

“Come on, then,” Phil says, presumably to the dog, “I’ll let you out for a bit.”

Dan stands too, following Phil through his hallway and into the room on the left.

Again, he is struck by the amazing decor of the room in which he enters, which seems to be a spacious living area, but he barely has time to appreciate it before Phil is heading into the kitchen at the other end, Buffy still tucked in the crook of his arm.

At the back of the kitchen there’s a glass sliding door, leading to what appears to be a tiny back garden, surrounded by a tall wooden fence. It’s through here that Phil lets Buffy out, barking happily as she scampers across the wet grass, not bothered by the rain in the slightest.

Phil slides the door shut after her, turning to Dan with a smile. “I’ll just let her run around for a bit. She’s been cooped up all day.”

“I guess you have to leave her here while you’re at school?”

“Yeah,” Phil replies guiltily. “It’s not as bad as some jobs, because I can let her out in the morning, and then I finish quite early in the day, but I still feel bad.”

“I’m sure she’s used to it.” Dan says, trying to make a positive comment.

“Yeah, I suppose.” Phil says. “If I ever have to stay late, I can call my brother to come and check on her. He lives just down the road.”

“That’s convenient, at least.”

Phil shrugs, turning to his kitchen counter and retrieving the bright red kettle.

“It’s not perfect, but it works okay.” Phil says. “Anyway, I’m rarely away from home. It’s not every day I have to rescue damoiseau’s in distress caught in rainstorms because they missed their bus.” Phil winks at him; along with the casual french he dropped into the sentence, it makes Dan feel a little dazed.

“Do you want a cup of tea while she runs about for a bit?” Phil asks.

Dan feels his heart flutter, and wonders whether any of the other TA’s have ever had the honour of coming here, of meeting Phil’s dog and receiving hot beverages on rainy days.

“That’d be great, thanks.” Dan answers quietly, still feeling like an inconvenience.

As Phil fills the kettle and gets the mugs, Dan takes the opportunity to look around his kitchen. It’s beautiful, just like the rest of the house, but with a few youthful, quirky touches that indicate Phil’s sillier side.

The walls are cream, as are the countertops, but there are splashes of colour everywhere. The microwave is bright yellow, and there are a host of tiny herb plants in red, green, blue and orange pots atop the windowsill.

Phil’s fridge is a light blue, and around his light wooden table, the chairs are varying sizes and colours, mismatched, but in a way that seems put together.

“It’s so homely in here,” Dan muses, not really meaning to say it aloud.

Phil turns to him, evidently surprised. “Thanks! Most people say it’s a bit much.” He pours the boiling water into the mugs, chuckling. “My brother said that it’s as if I gathered a random load of furniture and scattered it about without thinking.”

“Did you?”

“Kind of, I suppose.” Phil allows, shrugging one shoulder. “I just pick up bits and pieces that I like the look of, and fit them in as best I can.” He laughs, opening his sky-blue fridge to get the milk. “I don’t pretend to be an expert in interior design. I just like things to be...”

“Pretty?” Dan supplies.

“I was gonna say colourful,” Phil says, smiling at him. “But yeah, I suppose. Thanks.”

Dan blushes faintly, casting another look around. He notices for the first time that Phil’s fridge door is covered in those alphabet magnets, some of which spell out the phrase ‘normalness leads to sadness’. There’s also a photo pinned there, of Phil and a man Dan vaguely recognises as his brother. He’s holding Buffy in his arms, smiling a very Phil-like smile.

“Milk? Sugar?” Phil asks, tearing Dan’s attention away.

“Just milk, thanks.”

Phil pours the milk, humming to himself, and adds two lumps of sugar to his own cup from a gnome-shaped pot nearby. He places the mugs down on the table, and pulls out a chair.

“You can sit down, you know,” Phil tells Dan amusedly, slipping into one of the seats.

Dan obeys, sliding into the chair opposite him and retrieving his mug. “Thanks.”

He sips, even though it’s far too hot, trying to think past his nerves, for something, anything, to say that isn’t ‘wow you’re pretty and your house is pretty and your dog is the cutest thing in the world and I think I’m crushing on you far, far too much to even be here let alone go to Paris with you in two weeks’. He comes up blank.

Then, quite unexpectedly, Phil reaches across the table, and pushes a strand of his fringe away from his eye, a slight smile playing on his lips. Dan freezes, a deer in headlights, as Phil’s fingertips brush his forehead, acutely aware of how damp he is still.

“Your hair,” Phil says softly, wonderingly. “It’s curly.”

Dan blushes furiously at once, ducking away from Phil’s touch, feeling self-conscious. “Shit, yeah. The rain, y’know...”

Phil draws his hand back to his mug, smiling amusedly. “It’s cute.”

Dan looks at him in surprise. He’s never, in a million years, considered the idea that anybody might find his natural, untameable curls anything other than ridiculous, but all of a sudden he has a powerful urge to never touch a pair of straighteners again.

Dan lifts his hand to his head, patting the mess of curls that are drying there.

“I... never really liked them.” He admits, sheepish.

“You should embrace them,” Phil says encouragingly. He shrugs one shoulder. “I mean, if you want. I think they suit you. But then, it’s not my hair.”

All of a sudden, Dan shivers, partly because he’s wet and cold, but mostly because Phil is being so sweet that his body actually seems to be rejecting the sentiment, not sure how else to process it.

Phil frowns, noticing the tremble. “Hey, take that off.”

He gestures to Dan’s torso, standing from the chair. Dan just looks, bewildered, at Phil’s outstretched hand.

“Um...”

“Your jacket, Dan.” Phil says, the corner of his mouth twitching. “I’ll throw it in the dryer.”

“Oh, no it’s okay-”

“Dan, you’re actually shivering.” Phil interrupts, voice firm. “I’ll just dry off your wet jacket, it’ll take ten minutes.”

“It’s warm in here, you really don’t have to.” Dan mumbles, but he’s already shaking the damn thing off his shoulders, because Phil is using his teacher-voice, and it’s drilling right into his chilly bones.

Phil just takes the jacket from him, opening a secret cupboard door under the kitchen counter to reveal a washer-dryer. He places Dan’s jacket inside, presses a few buttons, and smiles in satisfaction as the dryer begins its cycle.

He turns back to Dan, frowning again as he takes in the sight of him.

“Hey, drink your tea, it’ll warm you up.” Phil instructs, moving across the room, towards the doorway. “I’ll be right back.”

Dan doesn’t get a chance to object; Phil slips out of the room, leaving Dan sat at the table in just his damp, clinging, white shirt, hands clasped around the mug of tea.

Then, in a moment, he’s back again, a bundle of green material in one hand. He hands it to Dan casually, then moves to sit back in his seat.

“Um, what’s this?” Dan asks, confused. He turns the green item over in his hands carefully.

“A hoodie,” Phil says, like it’s perfectly normal. “You’re cold.”

Dan swallows, squeezing the material in his fist. It feels thick and warm. “Oh, th-thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Phil says, beaming. “Put it on, you’re not allowed to be cold in my house.”

“I didn’t realise you had such strict house rules,” Dan replies teasingly, but pulls the hoodie over his head, threading his arms through the sleeves.

It smells - oh, Lord - it smells just like him. It’s cinnamon sweet, with a fresh, plant-like overtone. A cooling, freshly baked apple pie on a windowsill, the breeze sweeping in its delicious aroma, carrying the notes of the newly cut spring grass.

Dan has to force himself not to bury his nose in the sleeves that hang down over his hands.

He tries to distract himself by looking down at the text on the front of it, which reads ‘York University’. “I see I’m repping your college.”

“Hah, yeah, sorry about that.” Phil says bashfully, sipping more tea. “I guess it’s a bit weird to hang onto that, isn’t it?”

Dan shrugs. “Not if you liked it.”

Phil smiles at him appreciatively. “I liked the uni, yeah. And I like the hoodie. I like it even better on you.”

Simply because Dan doesn’t trust himself to speak further about this without melting into a gooey puddle, he decides to change the subject.

“So, is it Buffy as in... the vampire slayer?”

He nods towards the screen door, through which Phil’s dog is sprinting happily across the grass, pausing every so often to sniff a patch, tail wagging furiously.

Phil turns to watch her for a moment, laughing. He nods, turning back to wink at Dan. “I mean, it is the greatest show of all time.”

Dan considers this, nodding. “It’s definitely up there.”

“You’ve seen it?” Phil asks, sounding surprised. “Not many people have, these days.”

“You spend too much time around teenagers.” Dan says with a wry smile. “The kids in your classes probably weren’t even born when Buffy was cool.”

Phil sighs, nodding in agreement. “You’re probably right.”

“Hey, it’s their loss.” Dan says. “They’ll never know the awesomeness that is Buffy Summers kicking kicking the ass of every monster that dares to cross her.”

“Or the incredible hotness of Spike,” Phil adds, somewhat wistfully.

“Spike over Angel? Interesting.”

“To be honest, if I were Buffy, I think I’d have a similarly hard time deciding between them.”

“Same,” Dan agrees, staring down into his tea.

“Hey, I forgot,” Phil announces suddenly, his voice bright and cheerful. “I made cupcakes! Would you like one?”

Dan watches as Phil stands from his chair, heading to a cupboard to pull out a cake tin.

“Um,” Dan says; his stomach is rumbling at the mere mention of food, let alone cake, but he wants to be careful about how far he should run with Phil’s generosity. In the end however, his tummy, which hasn’t been fed since lunch, makes the decision for him. “Sure. Thanks.”

Phil finds a small plate and presents Dan with one of the most incredible looking cakes he’s ever seen. Putting bakeries to shame, Phil has piped rainbow frosting atop a small, palm sized cake. He’s also sliced off the top of the cake, cut it in half, and pushed the pieces into the icing in a traditional ‘butterfly cake’ style.

The whole thing is covered in some kind of edible glitter too, making it sparkle under Phil’s soft, overhead lamps.

“Christ, you made this?” Dan asks, staring down at it in amazement. “I feel like I shouldn’t eat something this pretty.”

Phil chuckles. “It’s either going to you or Buffy, so eat up.”

Phil takes his seat again, and Dan diligently begins peeling the glittery pink case from the sides of the cupcake. He glances up at Phil, watching him, and pauses.

“You’re not having one?”

Phil shakes his head. “Trust me, I’ve had about sixty already since I made them. He leans back in his chair, placing a hand on his stomach. “I’m cupcake’d out.”

Dan’s eyes fall to the cake in his hand, feeling awkward about eating it now.

Phil laughs at him, and Dan looks up. “What?”

“Afraid I’m trying to poison you?”

Dan splutters, having not even thought of that. Realistically though, he perhaps should be a bit more concerned. He doesn’t know Phil that well, after all.

Playing along, Dan eyes the cake suspiciously, bringing it to his nose and sniffing. “Well, it is awfully convenient that you just had to let Buffy out whilst you already had me in your car...”

Phil rolls his eyes, smirking. Without a word, he leans forwards, plucks the cupcake from Dan’s hand, and brings it to his lips. He takes a small bite, frosting and all, licking glitter and crumbs from his lips as he holds Dan’s gaze.

He hands the cupcake back over, looking triumphant. “There. If it’s poisoned, then we’ll both die.”

“Finally,” Dan jokes, taking a bite out of the cupcake, heart palpitating over what just happened.

The cupcake is glorious. Dan shuts his eyes, moaning a little in appreciation. It tastes like strawberry laces, and vanilla ice cream, and pure, unfiltered joy. It tastes like how he imagine Phil himself would taste, were he smothered in frosting and had a surprise, raspberry jam centre.

“Fucking hell,” Dan says eloquently, diving straight back in for another bite. “Phil Lester, you’re a genius.”

In three bites, Dan has devoured the entire thing, and he licks the remnants off each of his fingers, wishing he could go back in time and experience that slice of heaven all over again.

When he eventually meets Phil’s gaze, he’s looking a little dazed. There’s a pink tint to his pale skin, resting just above his sharp cheekbones. Seeming to gather himself, Phil clears his throat, and adjusts his glasses, smiling.

“Glad you liked it,” Phil mumbles, busying himself by taking Dan’s plate to the sink.

“You should apply for Bake Off,” Dan says sincerely.

Phil laughs, rinsing the plate under the tap, faced away from him.

“Actually don’t,” Dan says, changing his mind. “Just bake for me, instead.”

Phil stacks the plate on a drying rack, turning back to him. He doesn’t sit back at the table, though. He just leans against the counter, watching Dan from afar.

“And what do I get out of that deal, Mr Howell?” Phil asks, raising an eyebrow.

“Literally whatever you want.” Dan replies, meaning every word.

“Careful,” Phil says, typically flirtatious, making Dan’s stomach flip. “Some people might take advantage of a promise like that.”

Dan just laughs, staying quiet. In his mind however, he silently comes to the realisation that he can’t think of a single thing that Phil could ask for, that he would refuse to do.

Oh, dear.

By the time they leave Phil’s house, the rain has eased to more of a drizzle, but it pours continuously nonetheless. Dan says goodbye to Buffy about five times, softened by her sad little whimpers and puppy eyes each time he turns to go.

He doesn’t mind that her fur is soaked and a little muddy, he just cuddles her close, no doubt ruining Phil’s hoodie, though Phil doesn’t object. He doesn’t even tell her off as she tracks damp pawprints through the kitchen, he just uses a spare towel to dry her off, giggling as she wriggles about beneath it.

“Aw, he’ll be back another time, Buffy,” Phil assures his whining dog, and secretly Dan bursts with happiness.

They get out of the door eventually, and into Phil’s car. Phil sticks the heating on straight away, blasting them both as they rub their hands together. Dan wishes it would be socially acceptable to lean across and nestle into Phil’s shoulder, but alas, he settles for simply wrapping the hoodie more tightly around himself, pretending it’s Phil’s arms.

“She loves you,” Phil says, laughing. “She’s not going to let me forget that, either.”

“What a shame,” Dan says, faking a dismayed sigh. “I guess I’ll just have to come and play with her all the time.”

Phil grins at him. “You should. Buffy would really like that.”

“Buffy would?” Dan asks, feeling just brave enough to attempt a flirtation, fuelled by the adrenaline his own body has been pumping through his veins for the past hour or so.

Phil just smiles at him, eyes holding Dan’s for a moment, seeming to forget about starting the car. “Yeah,” he says after a while. “She really would.”

It’s quite painful to watch Phil driving away.

It’s only been a couple of hours, but in the short time he and Phil spent together this afternoon, Dan had grown rather attached to his presence.

This whole crush-thing would be so much easier if Phil was a difficult person to hang out with. But it’s so easy. They fall into banter as quickly as breathing, their conversations lasting indefinitely, because they could spring off each other’s witticisms for hours on end.

Phil is so funny, and so effortlessly charming. He’s intelligent and sharp, which is attractive on its own, but he has such a flirtatious streak, and it only makes things worse.

The more time Dan spends around him, in fact, the more he feels himself falling into a deep cavern of yearning.

When Phil pulled up to Dan’s house, right before Dan got out, he handed Dan another one of his cupcakes, which he’d hidden in a little Tupperware box in the glove compartment, unbeknownst to Dan.

Dan had protested at first, saying he couldn’t possibly steal another of his incredible creations, but Phil insisted on him having it. Eventually, Dan managed to create a condition - that he owed Phil a favour, not only for the cupcake (and the other cupcake) but for the cup of tea, and introducing him to Buffy, and the kindness, and for literally rescuing him in his hour of need and driving him forty minutes across town to his house.

Phil laughed, but agreed to these terms. Dan had gone to leave his car then, cupcake in hand, but Phil had stopped him, saying he had an idea for how Dan could repay him.

Of course, he had to say Paris.

So, because he’s helpless to refuse Phil anyway, and because he owes Phil a lot, Dan agreed. So, in two weeks, he’s off to Paris, to spend an entire weekend with Phil, in the most romantic city in the world.

Yes, there will be twenty or more teenagers along for the ride, but Dan finds it difficult enough to keep it together in Phil’s presence as it is, even during class.

Forty-eight hours of uninterrupted time in close proximity to this man is going to render him as useless as a smitten nerd-girl in any teenage rom-com that’s existed since the beginning of time.

He sighs, watching from his doorway as Phil’s car rounds the corner, out of sight. He opens the Tupperware, and takes a bite of the delicious cake, sighing in defeat.

“Okay, who was that?” Tyler’s voice says from right by his shoulder, making Dan jump.

“Is that hot, French, teacher-guy?” Teddy interjects from further inside.

Dan rolls his eyes, turning to push past both of them as he stalks into the house. “Don’t you guys have anything better to do than spy on me?”

“Aw, Dan we just want to see you happy!” Tyler exclaims, following Dan into the kitchen.

He wraps his arms around Dan’s waist, walking behind him like a drunk mum too into the conga line, until they reach the counter.

Dan puts his half eaten cupcake back in its box, placing it on the counter.

“How do you know I’m not?” Dan asks crossly.

“I mean, you’re fine.” Teddy says, strolling into the kitchen to rest his arm on Dan’s shoulder. “But fine isn’t good enough for our lovely Daniel. We want to see you being adored!”

Teddy pinches Dan’s cheek, smiling at him. Tyler kisses him on the temple, ruffling his hair.

Dan rolls his eyes, but smiles a little under the affection. “Thanks, but I’m good.”

He struggles free of them, intending to take an immediate shower in order to wash the rainwater off himself. He heads for the door of the kitchen, mind already on other things.

Phil things.

Paris things.

“Hey, Dan?” Tyler calls out, sounding confused. Dan turns on the spot, somewhat reluctantly. “I thought you went to the University of Manchester?”

Dan frowns in confusion. “Ty, we all went to the same uni. We literally met at uni.”

Teddy hides a smirk in Tyler’s shoulder. “Right, right.” Tyler says. “So whose hoodie is that?”

Having completely forgotten he was even wearing the thing, Dan flushes bright red, stammering in place of a response. It’s an absurd reaction, obviously, but it sends the others into fits of laughter, and Dan instinctively knows they won’t let this go for weeks, no matter how much he tries to insist it was a purely platonic gesture on Phil’s part.

“I hate you both,” Dan groans, practically running out of the room.

He slams the door of the bathroom, switching on the shower, cheeks still flame-red in the mirror. He pauses, caught by the sight of his reflection, swathed in the emerald green of Phil’s hoodie.

He strokes the words on the front, feeling how they’re beginning to flake from multiple washes, and from the creases Phil has made as he moves around in this same garment, when it’s wrapped around him instead.

Dan lifts the sleeve to his nose, breathing in that delicious scent. The vanilla-strawberry cupcake still lingers on his tongue, making it that little bit sweeter.

He’ll return this hoodie, he tells himself, saving it until last as he strips off for the shower. But maybe he could forget for a few days. Or maybe he could say that he wanted to wait until the next time he’s in class with Phil, which isn’t until Monday now.

He places the hoodie carefully to one side, not wanting it to get wet, and hops in the shower. He lets his mind drift, skimming across memories of Phil’s touch against his forehead, the sound of the rain pattering against his screen door as the dog played outside, the low, fond tone of Phil’s voice from across the table, the flame of something vivacious dancing in his glacial eyes.

Paris, he decides, as the light trickles of warm water travel over his body, might not be so bad.

(Part 5!)

#phanfic #phan #teacher au #my fic #prompts

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nadiineross · 6 years

Text

requested by @kalydnos

17. “Bite me”

French countryside, near quarter past nine at night.

Across the street from Alexander Bernard’s vacation home, Nadine ties her hair right to the base of her head and narrows her eyes at the muted orange windows, pulling her legs off the dashboard of the rental.

There’s a spare clip in the cup holder, next to Chloe’s half empty can of Sprite, and she reloads her empty pistol.

It’s been five minutes past Chloe’s agreed upon check-in call time.

She empties the gun and starts over, perched on the edge of her seat.

Finally (finally), the walkie in her lap crackles. “How you doing, love?”

Nadine breathes a sigh of relief and grasps the walkie closer to her face, sliding her reloaded gun into the holster hanging from the rearview mirror.

“Took you long enough,” Nadine huffs.

“Kept you waiting again, did I?”

Really, she’s much too teasing for someone who’s snooping around the home of a black market arms dealer in search of what is essentially an ancient fork.

Nadine rolls her eyes. “At least it’s not 2 hours this time.”

“Patience is a virtue, you know,” Chloe replies, voice staticky.

“Well, I guess I’m not fucking virtuous.”

“Hey now, that’s not entirely true—“

Nadine snorts, climbing out the passenger seat and grabbing the holster to strap around her leg. “Where are you, Frazer?” she asks, fondness almost palpable.

“Oh, I’m powdering my nose in a fancy bathroom. Couldn’t exactly whip out a walkie from my bra in front of Bernard.” Nadine bends to grab the walkie so she can clip it to her belt and reply, but: “And yes, I did get that smarmy bastard to tell me where he keeps his collection.”

Nadine grins, locking the car behind her, and flexes her gloved fingers in anticipation.

“Try the third-floor study, northwest corner. I’ll draw Bernard away from that floor, but there are guards at the door. Be safe.”

“So says the woman who willingly jumped onto a train strapped with a bomb.”

“Touché. Be fierce, then,” Chloe amends.

Nadine grins. “Always.”

Usually, Chloe covers the stealing part and Nadine runs interference, but this job requires a little more stealth and less playing Spider-man. Besides, Bernard’s an old contact from her Shoreline days and has made his unfavorable opinion of her clear after her fall from grace, so Chloe’s dressed to the nines and wooing him.

One day, she’ll return the favor and put a hole through his shoulder. Eye for an eye, after all.

There’s a guard snuffing out a cigarette butt on the curb. She gives him no time to react and pistol whips him. She slips on his vest and relieves him of his weapons. Then, she heaves him into a bush and blows out a breath.

The metal railings around the perimeter of the house are spiked at the top, so she’s careful when she twists around, dropping to her feet as quietly as she can.

It’s smooth sailing after that. There’s a knife in her vest pocket and she has a silencer, making her journey to the study through the backdoor quiet and efficient.

She hauls the bodies of the last two guards into the study with her and locks the door behind her.

The fork is in a locked glass case mounted behind the desk, smack in the middle between two windows.

Chloe’s been teaching her how to pick locks and the one at the bottom of the case looks relatively easy to unlock, but there’s no reason to waste time trying. She takes the butt of her gun to the lock and slides the fork into the empty loop on her belt.

This time, she leaves through the windows, tossing the vest over her shoulder, and leaves the fork in the backseat of the car, under Chloe’s worn leather jacket.

She honks the car horn—the signal for Chloe to get the hell out of there—and waits.

And waits.

It’s been too long and Nadine throws caution to the wind, picking the walkie up.

“Frazer, come in,” she says into the walkie, nervous now. “Chloe.”

No response.

“Christ,” she mutters, and in one smooth movement, she slides into the driver’s seat and starts the car. Her foot stomps on the accelerator.

The gate comes crashing down.

If Chloe’s been compromised, there’s no need for subtlety and, quite frankly, Nadine prefers it this way.

She climbs out the car, puts a hole in the door, and strolls in, glamorous fork in its spot on her belt and gun blazing.

Nadine takes out the herd of guards coming down the stairs, and ducks behind a pillar, hissing when a bullet cuts through her shirt, grazing the skin on her bicep.

Nadine sets her mouth into a grim line and continues down the maze of hallways, blasting through rooms.

God help anyone placed in her path.

She knows she’s getting warmer when she finds a group of antsy guards gripping at their guns in front of a nondescript door.

Really, they never stood a chance against her even if she weren’t completely, utterly livid at the moment.

No one is left alive.

Nadine leaves her gun on the floor, trading it in for two Glocks.

The door leads to a kitchen which leads into the dining room where Bernard stands behind a battered Chloe, gun to her head and walkie poised at his mouth.

There are three guards left, all with their guns trained on her. Bernard keeps the barrel of his gun pressed to the back of Chloe’s head.

“Ms. Ross,” he says, teeth glinting with his sneer. “I was just looking for the woman who’s come knocking on my door.”

Nadine smiles blandly and says: “I wouldn’t call it knocking.”

Then, in quick succession, she puts a bullet in the heads of the two guards aiming at her from either side of Bernard.

She jerks back into the kitchen as the last guard, standing a bit off to the side, fires at her. The door frame splinters and chips off.

Bernard barks commands in rapid-fire French, but before the guard can follow his instructions, Nadine shoots back, blowing the guard’s fingers off in her haste.

He howls and staggers clumsily before he lunges forward in a blind rage. Nadine catches his head between her fists, still gripping tightly to her guns. The cold metal digs into his skin. She uses the momentum to launch him into a wall and he crumples like a sack of bricks.

Bernard snarls and shoots at her. She’s too far from the kitchen to duck for cover, so she uses the guard as a shield, losing one of her guns in the process of wrenching his body over her’s.

“Little Nadine Ross,” Bernard spits. She clenches her jaw and tightens her hold on her remaining gun. “Running daddy’s pride and joy into the ground, losing millions. You never listen, do you? I—“

He cuts off with a grunt.

Nadine jerks an arm over the guard’s shoulder and aims her gun at the head of the table, finger itching to pull the trigger.

Chloe.

The leg of her chair is fractured. She must’ve kicked out from beneath her, into Bernard’s shins.

“Save the monologuing for people who give half a shit, arsehole,” she hisses, voice low and gravelly.

Chloe twists the gun out of Bernard’s slackened hold and swings the back of her fist into his face, the unshackled handcuff hanging from her wrist catching his cheek.

Nadine collects herself just as Chloe hurls Bernard onto the long table. He spits blood onto the lacquered surface and grunts out a laugh.

“Quite a pair, you two.”

Chloe collapses into a chair and scowls at him.

She almost looks like a queen at her throne, Bernard a fool at her feet.

He pushes himself onto his back with a groan and his head lols to the side, in Nadine’s general direction. “Well?”

Nadine cocks her gun and the resounding bang of her gun is followed closely by his shriek. His hand flies to his shoulder, red seeping through the cracks between his fingers, and he rolls off the table.

Nadine doesn’t care. She approaches Chloe and helps her to her feet. Chloe ends up closer than Nadine had intended, and they wobble together for a second, hands clasped over the other’s forearm.

There’s blood running down Chloe’s face and a bruise is purpling on her cheek. Frowning, Nadine carefully sweeps hair away from Chloe’s open wound and tsks.

“You were fierce, at least,” Nadine says, an attempt to lighten the mood.

Chloe laughs.

Using Nadine as a crutch, Chloe limps her way through the house, farther and farther away from Bernard’s whimpering.

She raises her eyebrows at the guards littering the front hall. “Well, looks like fierce would be an understatement.”

“You were late again, Frazer,” Nadine says with a shrug, helping Chloe into the passenger seat.

“Bite me.” Chloe grins.

Nadine rolls her eyes and rounds the car. “Maybe later.”

She tosses the fork into Chloe’s lap, starts the car, and backs out of the front yard. They drive in relative silence for a couple of minutes, whizzing past the traffic lights in their beat-up rental, shining green.

Chloe twists in her seat and drapes her leather jacket around herself, rolling her cracked window down and sighing in content.

The car creaks to a stop at a red light.

Nadine takes a soggy napkin from the cup holder and wipes the blood away from Chloe’s cheek, ignoring her grumbling. The streets are mostly deserted now, so Nadine doesn’t worry too much about keeping her eyes on the road.

“Hey, hey,” Chloe says, gently prying Nadine’s hands away from her face. “I’m—I’ll be fine. Just...” She stops and grabs the back of Nadine’s neck.

They’re kissing now. Nadine’s soft and pliant against Chloe’s lips, but after a moment, she pushes in deeper.

Chloe slants her mouth and her hum transitions into a chuckle after Nadine sinks her teeth into her lower lip. They pull apart, bumpily.

Nadine turns back to the road and edges the car forward, sputtering and rumbling as it goes.

The light’s green now, shining off the whites of Chloe’s eyes.

They’re both grinning as they speed off into the night.

#chlodine #chloe frazer #nadine ross #listen LISTEN i have no fucks to give left skjdhfsd this is honestly the Worst thing ive written #because i am too gosh darn tirerd to proofread this so u guys are seeing this directly from my fingertips #no brain used #goodbye validate me still thanks

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snowdice · 3 years

Text

Big Bang (Sort of) Editing Story [Day 65]

Lets do a bit of this tonight. Probably won’t work on it long, but I have something to finish up.

Chapter 30

After lunch, Patton and Logan took Virgil out into the garden to walk around. They let Virgil lead them around wherever he wanted to in the garden. A bunch more flowers had died since the last time they’d been out here, and Patton felt sad despite having never felt very sad about that sort of thing before. But, Virgil seemed to really like the flower he’d found last time, so Patton thought he was probably sad on the boy’s behalf.

Of course, Patton thought, perking up, eventually it would be spring, and Virgil could get to not only see flowers but see all of the flowers grow. Patton couldn’t wait to see him amongst the garden then.

Virgil took them wandering through the orchard for a while, but most of the trees had been stripped of their fruits. They ended up in the food garden after a bit, and Virgil finally seemed to decide on the direction instead of just ambling about.

Mr. Deknis looked up as they approached and smiled at them.

“Hello, Mr. Deknis,” Patton said as they came closer.

“Hello you three,” Mr. Deknis said. “Getting into trouble?”

“No,” Virgil said, shaking his head.

Mr. Deknis gave him a flash of a smile. “I know, I’m joking,” he said. “Especially since there isn’t much left in my gardens for certain princes to destroy with experiments.”

“Oh, okay,” Virgil said. He tilted his head. “What are you doing?”

“I’m getting the last of the acorn squash out,” Mr. Deknis replied. “It’s the last crop to get finished. Good thing too, it’s supposed to start snowing soon.”

Virgil looked down curiously at the dark green squash.

“Would you like to help me pick a couple?” Mr. Deknis asked.

“Sure,” Virgil said, sounding interested. Mr. Deknis patted the ground beside him and Virgil knelt down to watch him.

“They’re not too difficult to harvest,” he said. “You just cut the fruit off the stem. You want to leave about a hand’s width of the stem left over which will help preserve moisture. The earlier harvests, I left in the field to cure in the sun for a couple weeks, but the frost’ll ruin them so we’ll take them inside the green house and let them sit in the sun for a bit there. We also want to keep the leaves. You’ll probably be eating those for dinner tonight since they have to be cooked up within about 24 hours after they’re picked. Patton’s mom makes a good side dish with them and she’ll be making some curry tomorrow, probably. Maybe some stew if there are some leftover.”

“Put the squash in this wheelbarrow and the leaves into this pile, okay?” Virgil nodded and Mr. Deknis handed him the extra pair of gloves and shears he carried with him in case one set broke. “These might be a bit big on your, but they should work for now.”

Mr. Deknis looked up at Patton and Logan. “Would the two of you like to help?” he asked. “I can get some more equipment.”

“I can help out if you want, but you don’t need to stop and get more equipment just for me,” Patton said.

“The same for me,” Logan said.

“Well, if you’d like to help still, you can sort the leave. Give your mother a head start.”

“Sure,” Patton said. He and Logan went to do that while Mr. Deknis and Virgil worked on cutting the squashes from the vine.

“What do you do during the winter?” Virgil asked curiously. “If this is your last crop.”

“Seedlings?” he asked.

“I let seeds start to grow in the greenhouse that I replant once it gets warm enough.”

“Why don’t you just plant them where they’re going?”

“I do for some,” he said, “but giving some a head start is good for them.”

“Say yes if you want to Virgil,” Logan said.

“He’s exploring,” Logan said, nodding at the large patch of bushes.

Patton chuckled. “I see.” He sat next to Logan. Every so often he’d hear the bushes rustle, but he couldn’t tell if it was actually Virgil or an animal.

“He’s adorable,” Patton commented, keeping an ear out.

Logan hummed.

“I’m glad we kept him.”

“He isn’t a pet, Patton.”

“I’m going to go see what he’s doing,” Patton said. “I’ll be right back.”

“Ghost kitty!” he said, making sure to make his voice as quiet as possible.

“This is Ghost Kitty?” Virgil asked. “I thought you said she was hard to pet.”

“She is,” Patton said. He lowered himself onto the ground from a few feet away from them. “How did you get her to come to you?”

Virgil glanced down at the cat and shrugged, scratching one of her ears. “She just came over to me and let me pet her.”

“Wow,” Patton said softly. He looked at the cat. “Could I pet you sweetie?” he asked, holding out a hand in her direction. She hissed again.

Virgil frowned down at her. “It’s Patton,” he said as though he expected to understand his words and the exasperation in the tone he said them in.

He carefully turned his hand over so he could stroke the top of her head. He gently scratched her ear, not daring to go for under her chin yet since she didn’t know him well. “Hi,” he said softly. After a moment, she started to purr softly. Virgil reached over and scratched under her chin and she purred louder. “Oh, you’re a good girl,” Patton breathed, letting a hand trail gently down her back once and then again. Patton settled himself carefully into a seating position continuing to pet her. After a few more moments of soft petting, she hesitantly stepped her front paws onto Patton’s thigh so she was sitting in both of their laps. Patton laughed softly. “Hi sweetie.” He glanced over at Virgil who had a wide smile on his face as he pet the cat. This. This was adorable. They continued to pet the cat for a very long time.