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creativeashproductions · 4 years

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Lost Time // Luke Patterson

Summary: Things changed since Sunset Curve fell apart literally as three out of four members died before a gig. Leaving a sad girl behind Luke by chance runs into the reader with someone else. Death tore the couple apart, and time can’t fix this.

Warning: Talk of death, depression, angst and fluff

Words: 2.2k

Might as well join the Julie and the Phantoms fan club!

*For the sake of the story the time frame has been altered, it takes place in the mid-2000s. Also! I tried to make the reader as generalized as I could to make sure that everyone can relate. The reader is Alex’s sister, for inclusion that can be biological, adopted, half or stepsiblings. I want to make sure all people can be the reader.

Masterlist

THIS IS FROM MY SECONDARY BLOG! REPOST!!

The 1990s was definitely some of the best years of your life watching your brother grow more comfortable in his identity. Alex had kept his sexuality secret, taking the frustration of the secret by learning how to play the drums. You would often be found curled on the chair listening to his growing talent; Alex was a great brother.

Alex found friends in three local boys Reggie, Bobby and Luke, even a little more than friends with Luke briefly. By 1991 the boys had formed a band Sunset Curve with each other and a loyal fan in you. By mid-1994 the band had a fanbase and some gigs, but playing The Orpheum was the goal.

Luke had admitted to Alex, he had feelings for you, and with a lot of encouragement from Alex, he approached you. Luke had been focused on music since his parents gave him his first guitar, so relationships weren’t even on the backburner.

“Hey.” Luke spoke, pressing a kiss to your cheek backstage, “Missed you.”

His hair tickled your skin, bringing a bright smile from the teenage boy and a deep blush from you, private time wasn’t as often as it once had been. After Luke’s fallout with his parents a few months back, he had couch surfed between Reggie and Alex’s rooms; he wasn’t allowed in yours.

“You saw me last night.”

“A monumental time.” Luke bent his bend to place a lingering kiss on your bare shoulder, his jacket having fallen down, “Three years together and a bright future ahead.”

Last night had been the third anniversary of your relationship and hopefully the previous night worrying on parents walking in, cheap dates Luke often felt guilty about. Luke knew in his bones playing The Orpheum tonight would open the door to a legendary future. A future where money wasn’t tight and he could you on dates he deemed acceptable for the love of his life.

Bobby voiced brought Sunset Curve’s lead singer back to that moment, you dropped from the stage to settle in the empty audience to watch the soundcheck. With a wink from Alex, he started making the beat to Now or Never, you beamed as they poured their souls into the song. The four were talented and made to be in a band together even if you didn’t really like Bobby.

Cringing at the awkward wink Bobby sent you turned on your converse to head to the bar for a glass of water. Thanking the bartender, you tuned out the conversation with the waitress and the band only jumping when arms wrapped around your waist.

“We’re getting street dogs.” Luke spoke, bringing your body to rest on his chest, “Do you want one?”

The thought of those street dogs honestly horrifying given they were cooked in some random guys car. The one time you tried, it had permanently tattooed the taste in your memories forever, and just remembering was vomit-inducing.

“I’ll pass.” You wrinkled your nose, turning to wrap your arms around his neck, “I don’t know how you guys like those.”

“Tradition.” Luke shrugged caressing your cheekbone with the pad of this thumb. Gazing at features he wanted to wake up to for the rest of his life, “Still down with the plan?”

“The minute I’m eighteen, we go to the nearest chapel.” You grinned playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, “I’ll be waiting Rockstar.”

Luke pressed a long passionate kiss on your lips, pulling away to jog over to Alex and Reggie waiting at the door. Bobby having declined the street dog invitation to flirt with the waitress Rose. Alex waved before the door closed. Little did you know that would be the last time you saw them alive.

1995 was the worst year of your life. 1996 was the hardest, especially with the forever reminder of your love. You wouldn’t trade 1996 for the world however, only wishing for one change.

Los Angeles, 2004

Alex, Reggie and Luke had learnt a mere few days away from that life had drastically changed forever. Firstly, the three boys had died from eating the street dogs mere hours before performing on the stage of The Orpheum. Secondly, it was no longer 1995 but instead nearly ten years had past bringing the three ghosts into 2004.

The most jarring wasn’t being able to be heard playing music with a random girl named Julie but that the most constant part of the band no longer was there. You hadn’t died that night, and Alex was pretty sure you were still alive. Luke felt lost waking up without you beside him and the deep regret of not reconciling with his parents.

It would be a week before Luke would swallow his pride enough to orb himself into his unchanged childhood home. Emily, Luke’s mom, was in the well-worn chair knitting a scarf Luke recognized as his favourite colours. Mitch was in the kitchen, putting the groceries away. It was heartbreaking being invisible to his aged parents.

“Hey, Mom.” Luke sniffled sitting on the couch nearby staring at his silent mother, “Sorry for not visiting sooner.”

Tears welled up in the boy’s eyes feeling hopeless, not being able to ease his parents’ pain, the regret and guilt bubbling to the surface.

“How is Y/N? I bet she’s living in New York of London now. We promised to travel the world together. Part of me is guilty of wishing she had eaten a street dog that night so we could be together.” Luke sobbed, wrapping his arms around his midsection reminiscing on the beautiful girl he had unwillingly left.

“Hey.” Mitch spoke, kissing his wife’s forehead. Her eyes closing in contentment.

“I wonder if you know where Reg and Alex’s parents are. Reggie’s neighbourhood was torn down who knows when. It makes me scared to see if Alex and Y/N’s parents still have their place. I don’t think so. They lost their son.”

“Hey Luke.”

Luke glanced over his shoulder to see Alex at the door, reluctant to impose of Luke’s privacy.

“Yeah.”

“We’re rehearsing.” Alex spoke, smiling as the other teenager took one more wistful look at his parents before orbing out of his house to the Molina family’s garage. Minutes later, the front door opening and feet thudding brought the noise to the Patterson home.

“Grandma!”

A four-foot blue of green and black blur covered the room in seconds nearly sprawling Mitch to the floor. Why was that 1996 year difficult? Well, ’95 was when Sunset Curve tragically died, and a stick changed your life. ’96 was spent going through the last five months of pregnancy without Luke.

October 1995

You kept your lips pressed tightly together, unable to look at the smooth, shiny mahogany rectangle surrounded by flowers. Looking up meant the reality kicking in. Funerals sucked. Especially the third funeral in the last handful of days. It was surreal thinking that one week ago you had kissed your boyfriend and hugged your brother and now they were dead. Gone. Not even a goodbye.

“Are you okay?” The broke voice asked, gaining your attention. Swollen red eyes matching yours held unimaginable pain. While the last few months had been icy with your parents, it didn’t mean losing one of their kids didn’t sting.

“I will be.” You whispered clasping your hands over the scratchy black velvet dress, one you had worn three times too many.

The sobs broke out seeing the best picture Alex had taken in his life, it encapsulated his best features; his beaming smile and kind, caring eyes. Alex was gone. Your brother was gone because he ate a bad hot dog with his friends. You would never see your boys again. Never feel Luke’s skin or share a laugh with Alex or complain about things with Reggie. You wouldn’t get to meet in the chapel with Luke wearing second hand ‘fancy’ clothing. In one night, your life changed.

It changed further seeing the two lines on the test later that night. The heartache growing. The baby you carried would never meet his uncles and his Dad. Would never hear them play or learn to play. ’95 and ’96 sucked ass.

You sighed, closing the door to follow the rambunctious ball of energy into the living room where he entertained Mitch and Emily. Some days it was difficult to stare into the green eyes he inherited from his father.

“Benjamin Lucas.” You spoke crossing your arms, meeting the gaze of the eight-year-old boy, “What did I say?”

“To not runoff.” Ben quietly replied, playing with his hands. His messy brown hair, in need of a trim, falling into his eyes, “Sorry Mom.”

“Please don’t do it again.” You gently told the little boy elated as he quickly found the toy box in the corner of the room.

Ben was loved deeply by Mitch and Emily, who had stepped up when your parents made the decision to sell your childhood home. Wanting Ben to know his paternal grandparents, you had struggled to find an apartment and job to say in the neighbourhood. Since the baby was the last part of their son, the Patterson parents’ had welcomed you into the home where you stayed until Ben was two.

“Do you want us to come around for Luke’s birthday?” You questioned sitting on the love seat, the same love seat you had made out on with Luke many times during movies.

The room turned sad at the question and reminded that for the ninth year, you would celebrate Luke’s birthday without him. A day where Ben wouldn’t fully understand. Emily simply nodded her head.

“Have you met anyone?” Mitch asked, leaning over to clasp his hands together. For the last few years, they had been pushing you to date. They wanted your happiness and for Ben to have a father even if Luke couldn’t be it.

“Mama can we stay here tonight?” Ben’s innocent voice cut the tension, saving you from answering the question again. Mitch and Emily each nodded their heads at the question, unable to tell the young boy no.

“Have you ate?” Emily asked, turning to look at you in concern. The chuckle left your mouth at the question she frequently requested, she missed cooking for more than two.

“We had pasta before we came.” You replied, turning to gaze out the window to the dark sky, “I should put Ben to bed.”

The soft whine from your son and denial was a nightly routine and very much a mirror image to Luke’s character as well. With a smile, Emily held out her hand to her grandchild, she was notoriously the only one able to get Ben to sleep fast.

“Come on Bug.”

It seemed the universe was keeping Luke from seeing you and discovering Ben, but when that night came, he was shocked. Emily was curled up on the patio couch, watching Ben in the newly bought sandbox. The patio doors opened. Inside, Mitch had invited a stranger who knew his son into the house.

“I think I heard the doorbell. I’ll be right back.” Emily called out to you. You had found shade under the tree reading a new book.

The soft cry had you up and running to Ben before you even realized, on his knee was a bleeding wound. You had already scooped the boy into your arms to quickly get into the kitchen. The moment your foot stepped into the home, the sound of a familiar voice and song filled the house.

Gently placing Ben on his feet, you followed the sound to the living room. Across the room behind a young girl stood a boy.

“Luke.” You breathed floored at the sight of the teenager who looked exactly like he did back in ’95. The ghost singing widened his eyes at yours, taking in the mature features and change of fashion.

He continued to sing the song Unsaid Emily he had written as an apology to his mom following the last big fight. The song he never got to show her. His voice faded as the ending of the song came around.

“Mama!” Your attention broke from Luke’s when a tiny hand reached for yours. The pain in his voice bringing you back to the most important part of your life, “It hurts Mama.”

Despite being sad, Mitch was the one to cross the room to lift the little boy into his arms. Placing the little boy on the counter, the man gently wet a paper towel to wash the area.

“I think he needs stitches.” Mitch sighed, furrowing his brows.

“Who is that?” Luke asked the Molina girl. The girl shrugged taking in the features she could recognize. Julie asked Emily.

“That’s Ben.” Emily beamed, looking over her shoulder at the little boy that filled the void of Luke’s death. It didn’t fix the wound or erase the pain, but Ben’s existence helped with the loss as he was a precious gift, “When Luke passed away his girlfriend Y/N found out she was pregnant with Luke’s baby.”

The choked sob fell from Luke’s mouth echoed by the thud of his knees, hitting the floor in the pure shock. The heartbreak painted so clear Julie was sure she could feel Luke’s agony.

God, why did Luke have to eat that fucking street dog. Fuck his band dreams. Nothing hurt as bad as finding out about Ben and Y/N having to be a single parent.

“I have a son?” Luke cried, orbing himself as far as he could from the Patterson home and his most tremendous loss.

Part Two

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kaistarus · 3 years

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BitterSweet

Pairing: Itadori YuujiXReader

Words: 2.4K

Summary: How Yuuji makes his way into your life with brights smiles and shitty coffees

A/N: just in time for his b-day :3 i’ve loved this boi since before i even started jjk, so i’m glad I got to finally write for him lol

Masterlist

Bitter.

Bitter-with a hint of vanilla-was what you associated with Itadori Yuuji. His beaming smile at your first tutoring session forever connected with the pungent coffee he offered you.

You stared at the cup skeptically, “what is that?”

“Coffee?” Yuuji answered as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. “I thought every college student liked coffee.”

He wasn’t wrong, “but why did you get it?”

“Because you got up so early to help me,” Yuuji’s smile widened as he waved the drink around.

“Well I’m scheduled, so I would have been here whether you signed up or not.” You pointed out, glancing at the clock nearby that read too-early-in-the-morning and gestured for him to hand it over. He looked so pleased with himself that you were sure if he was a dog his tail would be going wild.

That was the only explanation you had for why you didn’t tell Yuuji it was the worst thing you’d ever tasted, hiding your full body cringes when he looked up after digging through his backpack.

“So, what are we doing first?” He asked excitedly, holding a creased notebook with uneven pages and a packed folder with papers hanging out. You stared at it wearily, but unfortunately he was far from the worst case scenario-a folder was huge compared to some you’d run into.

“I guess just give me your last exam and we’ll work from there.”

Yuuji chuckled awkwardly, fingering through the mass of papers in his folder before producing a packet marked heavily in red ink. You sighed at the single digit number at the top with a frowny face beside it.

Looked like you and Itadori Yuuji were going to be spending a lot of time together.

**************

“You’re overthinking it, Yuuji.” You rubbed your temples having spent the last thirty minutes working through the same problem with no success. You were beginning to lose all hope.

“But it doesn’t make any sense,” he groaned, leaning back in his seat. “I’m supposed to figure out the probability of what movies were action movies, but how was she able to watch eighty movies in one week?”

“That isn’t the question.”

“It isn’t possible though!” He jabbed his eraser at the paper. “Did she sleep? I bet this Melissa chick fast forwarded or skipped.”

“Yuuji…”

“Can you go a full week without sleep? If she slept through some, are they part of the eighty?” He gripped his pink locks in frustration. “How do I know which she slept through? Is there a timeline?”

You deadpanned as he scanned the page stressfully like it was holding him hostage with its contents, “I don’t think they provide a timeline, no.”

“Sorry,” Yuuji sighed defeated, slouching forward to rest his chin on the library’s table. “I swear I’m trying.”

You leaned against your palm, eyes softening as he glared at the homework sheet under him. “Don’t apologize,” you slid the sheet from under his chin. “You’re my favorite session after all.”

“I am?” He perked up.

You rolled your eyes while circling a segment of the first word problem. “You can just make up wild backstories for each person. Melissa doesn’t have to sleep and can absorb movies abnormally fast or something.”

Yuuji blinked several times as his lips curved into a smile. “What about the guy who owns over four-hundred chickens?”

You forced down your own smile and shrugged, “he’s just lonely.”

Yuuji laughed, continuing down the page while spewing out ridiculous stories for the unfortunate names in the Stats problems. Your heart beat firm in your chest at how excited he was now while scanning the page. The ticking clock above you felt like a curse the closer it got to the end of your session.

You guessed you didn’t hate the mornings anymore if they were with him.

*************************

You tapped your pencil’s eraser impatiently on the booth's table. The smell of brewing dark roast drifting through the small cafe accompanied by the combined noises of workers preparing early risers beverages kept you from dozing off where you sat. Finally, after what felt like forever-probably a few minutes-Yuuji slid into the booth across from you and placed a mug in front of you.

“I can buy my own coffee, Yuuji.” You took the mug wearily, eyes darting around the near empty cafe you’d decided to meet at this week to ‘spice things up’ in his words. “People might get the wrong idea.”

“I didn’t think you cared about that stuff,” he said with a teasing smile that you returned with a half-assed glare. “It’s my payment for making me smarter.”

“I already get paid,” you pouted at the drink in your hands. “And you’re already smart. I just help you understand it.”

He didn’t respond and you glanced over, confused at his slack jaw expression.

“Oh,” he started shuffling through his backpack and you swore his cheeks were dusted pink. “Yeah, that-uh-makes sense.”

“Right,” you raised a brow at the weird response, but decided it wasn’t worth pursuing. There wasn’t enough time in the world to question every random thing Yuuji did.

“What’s on the schedule today boss?”

“Your exam’s tomorrow,” you said, pulling some sheets from your own backpack. “I printed your practice exam since I’m guessing you didn’t know it existed.”

“Hey,” he pouted. “I didn’t, but still...”

You snorted, sliding the packet across the table. “Just do the ones you can and I’ll help with the rest.”

He saluted you, unnecessarily scribbling his name across the top before getting to work-his tongue poking out adorably while his eyes scanned the words intensely. You felt your chest filling with an unfamiliar warmth as you watched him work and your hand drifted subconsciously toward the mug next to you.

You coughed, unprepared for the harsh flavor, only wiping the grimace off your face when Yuuji peered upward with an innocent head tilt. Your heart squeezed when you locked eyes too long with his dark hazel before a soft smile filtered onto his lips. You quickly dropped your stare, hoping that if you avoided looking at him you could avoid the weird feeling emotion rolling in your stomach as well.

***************

You slouched up the library's stairwell, pushing through the second story’s double doors that led to your usual reserved tutoring table. The school really needed to push back your start time-seven in the morning was way too early for any college student to effectively teach or learn anything. The only person ridiculous enough to continuously sign-up for this time was-

You gripped your backpack straps as strong arms wrapped themselves around your midsection, picking you off the ground without warning. An unwanted frightened squeal left your lips before you recognized Yuuji’s laughter behind you and you relaxed as much as you could with him spinning you around in a library half-full of people.

“What are you doing?” You glared at him over your shoulder, cheeks warm from embarrassment at the scene he was causing.

“I got a C!”

You blinked several times before prying his arms off you, “are you serious?”

“Yeah,” he slid his backpack off, digging around before offering you a crumpled up packet with a seventy-four and a smiley written on top. You stared at it with a growing smile and without thinking too much you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Yuuji, this is amazing!”

“I know,” he laughed, encircling your waist awkwardly given your backpack. “My roommate didn’t believe me. She’s doing my dishes for a week thanks to you.”

You weren’t sure you felt good about that after seeing his level of disorganization, but you smiled back anyway. “I’m so proud of you.”

Which was true. Your chest was swollen near bursting with pride for him and he’d only gotten a C. You told yourself it was because of your own skills as a tutor, but had you ever been this excited for someone?

“Hey, we should celebrate.” Yuuji stuffed the exam back into his bag. “Do you wanna-”

“Can you guys quiet down?” a guy with four crushed energy drink cans and food wrappers laying haphazardly around him asked. “I can’t focus and I just wanna go home, dude.”

“Sorry,” you whispered as warmth crept up your neck, turning Yuuji toward the exit as he stared at the guy in amazement. “We’ll leave you alone.”

“How long have you been here?” Yuuji asked in awe.

“Twenty-five… No, maybe eight...” The guy narrowed his eyes at the clock. “Time’s an illusion man.”

Yuuji nodded, impressed, shooting the guy a thumbs up as you pushed him toward the doors. Once in the stairwell you shot him a bright smile, “celebrate?”

He nodded excitedly. “We can get coffee!”

You turned away quickly to cover your panic, “or maybe anything else?”

Yuuji hummed, “I guess change can be nice.”

Your heart did a bizarre skip at the soft look in his eyes and you hurriedly started down the stairs without him. You spent more time that morning brushing off each reaction to Yuuji than enjoying your time with him. When everything was done you started thinking that you were having a hard time kidding even yourself.

**************

You and Yuuji had been working in silence for the past twenty minutes-the longest he’d gone without needing help since he’d signed up for tutoring. It was a great sign that for some reason had your stomach knotting uncomfortably.

“You’re doing really good,” you complimented, admiring the delighted smile he gave you.

“Yeah, I used what you said about note taking for lecture.” He showed you his notes that were beyond chaotic, but apparently worked for him. “I actually understand what’s going on now.”

“That’s great,” you looked down at your Chem problems and attempted to keep your tone light. “You probably won’t need tutoring soon if this-.”

You heard his pencil snap and looked up to find him staring holes through his paper. He seemed tense as he pressed his pencil roughly against the notebook and you wondered what word problem would’ve caused that reaction.

“Are you stuck? Do you want me to-”

“I like you.”

You paused mid-reach for his textbook and locked eyes with him, his cheeks flaring up a dark pink. You opened and closed your mouth several times before mumbling out a weak, “what?”

“And I don’t want you to tutor me,” he looked frustrated with himself when you tilted your head at his contradictory statements. “I mean, I do, but not always. I just want to spend time with you and not talk about Stats because I hate Stats, but I really like you.”

That weird feeling was back. The one where your chest felt tight and your heart was beating too quickly and your stomach sort of felt like you might throw up, but all in a good way and that made everything weirder. It was a lot and not enough and that made you nervous.

“I don’t know, Yuuji.” You lied.

“That’s okay,” he smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his eyes. “No pressure. I just sprung it on you, so I don’t blame you.”

You nodded, watching him dig around his bag for a second pencil while grumbling about organizing that you knew would never happen. Your heart ached in your chest as you watched him continue working casually, playing off whatever happened.

...but you weren’t sure you could do the same.

************

This was a terrible idea.

You swung your legs, perched atop a railing across from a building that Yuuji was currently taking his midterm. It didn’t matter how you got that information-accessing his schedule with the few perks your job gave you-all that mattered was you had five minutes to figure out what you were going to say to him.

This wouldn’t even be an issue if he hadn’t skipped tutoring a few days ago. You weren’t sure if he thought you hated him or if he was regretting confessing to you, but either way you needed to talk to him before your window closed.

If only any of the speeches you could think of weren’t absolutely humiliating. Three minutes now? That should be enough time for you to at least get the beginning-

“(Y/N)?”

Your head whipped to the side so fast you're sure you got whiplash, dumbfounded that Yuuji was standing there with his head cocked to the side.

“You finished early,” you said, face warming at his growing confusion. “Not that I would know that.”

“Right.” He gave you a once-over. “Whatcha doing here?”

“Uh,” your nose crinkled while searching for a reasonable excuse. You sighed when you came up empty. “You skipped tutoring.”

Yuuji’s eyebrow rose and he waved his hands around. “I accidentally slept through it.” Then you noticed the gears started turning in his head and you began shrinking in on yourself. “You came here because I skipped a lesson?”

“Well, I wasn’t sure if you were going to keep skipping,” you avoided his eyes, chewing on the inside of your cheek. “It’s a bad habit.”

He knew you were full of shit. You could tell by the way he was forcing down a smirk when you stared at your feet. This would obviously be going so much better if you had those three minutes to prepare.

“Thanks for checking in,” he smiled, fishing around in his pocket and holding out his phone. “We should probably exchange numbers so you don’t have to go through all this trouble next time.”

You eyed the phone and rolled your eyes, “makes sense.”

He looked overjoyed when you took it from his hands. Your heart felt like it would pound out of your rib cage while he watched you create your contact, your fingers shaking slightly under the pressure.

“As an apology, I should probably take you to get food too.”

You paused, looking up at his hopeful gaze before nodding shyly. “That seems fair.”

The smile that overtook his face was probably the largest you’d ever seen and your heart nearly exploded when he grabbed your hand, pulling you away from the building. You probably should have seen this coming the moment you began looking forward to your morning shifts with him. As he dragged you down the street you found yourself not caring where he took you-you knew you’d be happy as long as he was with you.

#itadori yuuji #itadori yuji x reader #itadori yuji fluff #yuji x reader #itadori yuuji x reader #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #itadori x y/n

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sunsetcurvetaintedhotdog · 3 years

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Let’s Be Kids Again ☀︎

Summary: Reader is having an awful day but luckily Luke is there to help her.

Warning: Probably some language and bad grammar

Word count: 1,766

Honestly, two more weeks left of school, and these teachers don’t give a crap. “UGHH!!” I quickly stood up from my desk because if I keep looking at all the missing assignments and projects that I have to turn in I’m probably gonna lose my mind.

Lately, I’ve been feeling like work just keeps piling up and it’s a never-ending cycle of turning in twenty assignments by the end of the week and then still being behind on fifteen more. I should be out right now not stuck inside on a Saturday. I could’ve gone to the boy’s rehearsal and just sat there. But no here I am stuck in my bedroom with papers all over the place.

I hear a knock at my door “Sweetie Luke’s one the phone come downstairs.” I quickly open my door and bolt downstairs.

Luke and I are best friends although I don’t really like saying it because it reminds me of how much I don’t want to be friends with him. I want more. I’ve had a crush on him for a while now still trying to adapt to the new feeling. I’m not gonna say anything tho it will ruin our friendship if he doesn’t like me back and just make everything awkward between all of us.

“Hey” I heard Luke’s mom talking through the other line “Luke wash the dishes before you leave please I don’t know how you could live in your own filth” on the other side of the phone Luke rolled his eyes at his mother exaggeration, there was only three cups in the sink “yea, yea, ok”. I started giggling at his antics knowing exactly he’s only saying that so she could get off his back. He’s not really gonna do the dishes.

“Hey, ok so I was thinking we could do something tonight. Reg really wanted to go to the new carnival that just opened. Something about needing to get his future told I don’t know” he let out a sigh “what do you think?” As soon as I was about to say sure I remembered the nightmare of homework I have upstairs waiting for me. “Ugh i cant i have homework sorry Lu”

“Forget about homework you could do it another day” “Lu I can’t just forget about it it’s due in a few days” Luke is now pouting “So, you’ve done a lot over the year getting a few bad grades won’t harm you come on party pooper” suddenly a light bulb goes off in his head “Bet i can win you at bumper cars loser has to buy the other one food?” He was teasing her and he knew it. Since they were little they always did bets sometimes going to far as none of them wanted to lose. He knew she wasn’t gonna turn down a bet.

“I hate you. You know that” Luke smiled in victory. “Yes, i love you too” he said with the biggest smile ever. He loved hanging out with her. More at carnivals her unmatched energy always amazed him she was so energetic and he loved it. Someone had to keep up with him right..

“Ok find I’ll meet you at the carnival” “ok see you there” I placed the phone back on the wall and went upstairs to change. Once I was done I headed out but my dad stopped me. “Finished your homework already?” “Uh...um... yea didn’t have that much apparently” yea that was a lie but that was tomorrow’s problem. I walked out and headed to the carnival which was only a few blocks away from my house.

“Hey there trouble” ah trouble the infamous nickname that Alex gave me when we were 12. Luke had made a bet on whoever can scare Mrs. Frances, our 7th grade science teacher, the hardest got to name the their band. Because of me the bands name is Sunset Curve, a huge victory for me but I can’t say the same for Mrs. Frances. She had to eat lunch with a frog that day...ops... yea no I wasn’t sorry it was hilarious but if it wasn’t for me Sunset Curve would be named Bloody Devils cause Luke thought it was cool.

“Hey Al, oh I like your.....” I was cut off by Reggie putting his arms around me and Alex. “WHOS READY TO RIDE THE HORSES!!” Yea Reg has a thing for horses that explains ‘Home is Where my Horse is’.

“Reginald relax go get a corn dog or something” Bobby rolled his eyes at the over excited Reggie bouncing on one leg. He truly loved carnivals. “Ok I’ll be right back after the corn dog we have to get our future told I heard the one here is really accurate I want to know if I end up marrying Reese Witherspoon.”

“Ok guys what do you want to do first? Ferris wheel, go-carts, games, ...bumper cars...” I side glanced at Luke and he was already looking at me. “Oh your on” with that me and him were racing to the bumper car line bumping into each other once we got there. He quickly grabbed me by the waist so I wouldn’t fall on the other people. We were both laughing and smiling like idiots. “We should’ve walked” I said wiping my tears off my face. “Yea probably” he chuckled. “Ok so Al and Bobby get to choose who wins.” i said “Ok deal if I win you have to buy me the biggest ice cream cone they sell here” he said “Ok and if I win....um I want.... “ I looked around and the saw the big pretzel cart “The biggest pretzel they can make” “Deal” we did our handshake and turned around to stand in line.

“Ok Al, Bobby, focus you need to make sure you watch to see who wins” Luke said Alex and Bobby nodded and we were off into our own bumper cars. Me and Luke were bumping off each other and hitting other strangers cars. I think I might get a neck cramp. But it was really fun and I think I won. We got off giggling “ Ok so who is the lucky winner” I asked “Luke I’m never getting a car with you, y/n won” Alex said “yea totally destroyed you dude” Bobby added. Luke let out a snicker “yea please I let her win..” “sure you did bud” Bobby patted Luke on the back and went off to flirt with a girl he had seen earlier in the line. Reggie isn’t back so he might be stuffing his face with corn dogs. “And then there were three” I sighed. Alex turned around from walking in front of me and Luke “yea well make that two there is this really cute skater over there and I think I might go talk to him so peace out” he turned around and walked away. He quickly glanced back and winked at me “have fun”.

“Ok that makes two then, you up to take me on the pretzel offer” I asked Luke, he looked down at me with one of his gorgeous smiles that can brighten up the whole town. Geez why is he making it so hard not to fall in love with him. “Anything for you” he kissed the top of my head and we headed to the pretzel cart. We ordered and sat down on a bench to eat the pretzel. He took many bites but whatever he did pay for it. Still I won so I don’t see how it’s fair he got part of the prize, oh well. “So homework is stressful right?” he asked. I groaned “ugh yes I just wish I could be a kid so I wouldn’t have to do so much work and the only thing I would have to worry about is sleeping in nap time” I rested my head against his shoulder and he rested his against mine. “ Ok then, let’s be kids again then” I looked up at him confused “what?” “Let’s be kids again, let’s ride everything here and completely forget that we have responsibilities for tonight. How does that sound” he was practically buzzing now with excitement “I’m down” I said. “First one to throw up cleans the others room for a week” he said “Bet!”. We got up and starting riding everything that we could.

It’s been two hours and I’m waiting outside the boys bathroom with a water bottle for Luke. Can you guess who won. “Ugh that last ride really pulled some strings” he said. I giggled at him handing him the water bottle. “Up for one more tho” he groaned “depends, i don’t think my stomach can take anything else. “Ferris wheel?” I asked. He nodded and we headed there. Now getting into the ride we sat next to each other and the ride starting going up. The sky was a beautiful mix of pinks, reds, yellows, and blues. He wrapped his arm around my waist and I laid my head on his shoulder while we just admired the sunset. Well i did, I didn’t know that Luke wasn’t looking at the sunset he was looking at me like if I were the most beautiful painting he’s ever seen.

“Y/n...” i glanced back up and what he did next really surprised me. He pushed his lips against mines and I didn’t react I was frozen in place. He was about to pull away when I finally starting kissing back. He took his hand and put it on my cheek and I tangled my hands in his hair. This was amazing I always loved carnivals because of the adrenaline a ride gave you but this completely ruled out that feeling it felt passionate and warm. My stomach was doing flips and I was loving it, everything about this moment was just perfect.

When we finally pulled away we pressed our foreheads together still with our eyes closed “You don’t know how long I’ve been wanting to do that” he let out a shaky breath “then do it again” I whispered. He leaned back in to kiss me. This kiss went on a little longer and it was even more passionate than the one before if that was even possible. Now there was nothing stopping us we both know how we feel about each other and we can be together now.

Now not only do I have my best friend with me constantly but I think I might have found my soulmate. I am completely utterly in love with Luke Patterson.

#luke x reader #fanfic #writing #luke patterson imagine #luke patterson x y/n #luke patterson x reader #charlie gillespie #luke jatp #jatp imagine

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phoenixblack89 · 3 years

Text

Fera Ingris

Chapter 1 - Dealing with Dixons

It's finally here people! Eekkk! It'll be up on A03 later when I turned my laptop on. Been teasing this for soooo long.

My wonderful tag list:

@lilythemadqueen @boondoctorwho @darylsgirl @autocon23 @browneyes528 @fandomsaremykryponite @writingdeadangel

"Yer take care of yourself lass, don't worry about us."

Phoenix sighed at the man on the other end of the phone, twisting the silver rosary he had given her for her birthday many years ago. The world had changed dramatically for them all since that day. Their history bloody and violent and God sent.

"Are ye listening lass?"

"Of course, I'm listening! It's you who isn't! I'm on the way to Atlanta now! As in I'm already in Georgia! I can't let you three rot in there when we've got things to do!"

"Lass, we can take care of ourselves. Connor wants to know if ye got our package?" He asked, she stifled a laugh at the noise of the pair fighting over the phone she could hear.

"Yea I got it. Haven't opened it yet though" she replied, the bike's engine growing colder under her. "What's in it? You guys shouldn't be sending anything. You're lucky Duffy and Dolly got it t' me before I left Boston."

"I know lass but ye need t' keep those safe fer us." She smiled hearing her other friend's voice, clearly having won the battle for the phone. "Look things are getting bad here. You're safe now but things are gettin' weird, we'd never forgive ourselves if anything happened to ye. I love ye too much"

"I love ya too, you idiot! I'm gonna get you all out. We have a mission! I've got a bag full of your stuff right here on my bike, your clothes, coats, guns."

"Aye. What?! No? Yea. Let me say goodbye a' least?" Phoenix knitted her eyebrows, hearing the man talking to someone else. A prison guard maybe. "Lass we have t' go. I'll call ye back when things settle aye?"

"Yea. Just tell me where you are at least?"

"Sorry lass I got to -"

The line suddenly died on her and she frowned, shaking the phone and seeing no signal. She ran her hand through her short dark red hair and started the bike up, speeding quickly towards Atlanta and her boys.

**********

The sun shined through the thin, flimsy material of the tent, shining directly down into the sleeping pairs eyes. The short, spiky, dyed haired young woman groaned and threw her arm over her face. She sat slowly and yawned. She'd had that dream for weeks, wondering what had happened to her friends.

Had the prison been overrun by the monsters that lurked in every corner? Were they dead? Or worse... Had they become one of those things?

She'd slept after her watch shift, which surprised the girl as she had been having a bad bout of insomnia for the last two weeks. Ever since...

No, she thought don't think about it.

She glanced at the young boy laid next to her and smiled. When Carl asked if he could sleep in her tent with her the night before she had been hesitant (mainly because Lori rarely let him out her sight) but Lori had said it was okay and she was not going to fight against the long-haired beauty.

Lori had also said it would be good for her, get her to trust others again. And honestly the boy reminded her so much of her old friend with his boundless energy and smiles.

A gentle tap to the roof of her tent set her senses on guard. She grabbed her long calf length boots and her Bowie knife and slowly pulled the zipper up. A sigh released from her throat as she squinted up at the crossbow welding man in front of her.

"We goin' hunting or what?" He snarled at her, obviously still mad at the woman from their disagreement yesterday. It wasn't her fault. He had spooked her...

Merle approached the dark red haired girl sat by the quarry lake silently. Something was up with her and he was determined to find out what. The sight in front of him worried him slightly, she was nervous and kept flicking her head around. Had she been bit? He was thankful the darkness of the twilight hid him somewhat as he watched. She hissed as she pulled the bloody bandage off her left hand, flexing it and hissing through her teeth. The soft sound of something hitting the surface of the water, made his heart thump. It wasn't raining so why did it sound like it was?

He came right behind her and watched as she rubbed at the wound, it oozed blood and yellowish white pus as she gritted her teeth. Infection was setting in. Daryl called out his name from camp and the girl spun and noticed him there.

"Ya shouldn't be down 'ere by herself girlie." He whispered, kneeling and gently taking her hand, examining the injury intently. "Now wha' we gonna do abou' yer hand? Yer can't take what I offered yer."

"Burn it again. Only thing we can do. Not like we can wander to nearest pharmacy, throw my hand on the counter and say fix it, is it?" She hissed as he prodded a sensitive spot, Merle chuckled slightly and helped her to her feet.

"Nah but China is headed t' the city tomorrow. I'ma go too. I know my meds and I'll get yer what yer need t' be right as rain again, Lil sis." He said with a smirk as they climbed back up the slope to the camp. Daryl and Shane spun round at their footsteps and Merle smirked. Officer ass-hat was on one about something.

"Phoenix! Where have you been?! We told you to stay in camp until you could fight!" Shane whisper-yelled in her face.

"Easy there officer. Girl just needed a second by 'erself... Gets a bit loud round here." Merle defended her, placing himself between the well musculared man and the girl who seemed to shrink into herself. "She's fine. I was a watchin' her."

"I bet you were Dixon." Lori said under her breath. Phoenix glanced at the woman with eyes narrowed. The majority of the camp thought the Dixons were rude, brash and shouldn't be there. Only Phoenix, Glenn, Andrea and Shane knew of the incident that had cemented the brothers in the camp's good graces, well in their good graces.

Phoenix sat down at the small fire infront of her tent and sighed, her ears picking up on raised voices coming from the Dixon tent. It sounded like Daryl was majorly pissed about something and Merle was defending himself.

Isn't any of your business she thought ignore them.

She gazed deep into the fire, the heat warming her frozen limbs nicely. She hated the cold, not that it was cold but she felt like she was sat on a box of ice in just her underwear. She had experienced working in much colder situations, hell the Irish rain was colder than this. The sweat on her brow made her eyes ache and she closed them, leaning her head back.

"Ahh!" She shrieked, jumping up and thrusting her knife backwards towards whatever had grabbed her shoulder. A deep grunt sounded and her hand was twisted, causing her to release her grip of the blade's handle.

"Ain't no need t' try t' gut me girl." Daryl growled, his gruff voice instantly calming the nervous woman. She sighed and held her hand out, Daryl raised his chin and regarded whether to return her knife or not for a moment. He relented at her raised eyebrow and dropped it into her left hand. She hissed in pain and clutched at her wrist. Quicker than she could pull away, he'd wrapped his hand around her wrist yanking her closer and pulling the bandage off her injury. He could see how raised and angry it look, grimacing slightly as it oozed at his poking. Tears of pain welled in her eyes as she grit her teeth, he grumbled under his breath and glanced over his shoulder at his older brother. Merle nodded and raised the half empty bottle of whiskey in a salute. "This why Merle is leavin' right?"

"Yea, told him he didn't have to." She whispered as he released her arm, her skin tingled at the lose of contact. Daryl ran his hand over his neck and bit his lip.

"Ye need meds. Ain't happy a' him, riskin' his neck fer someone like ya." He groaned under his breath. Her mood soured and she shoved him away. He stumbled for a second and threw her a glare. "What the hell is ya problem girl?"

"Someone like me Dixon? Huh? What exactly do you mean by that?!" She folded her arms across her chest. Daryl's eyes flickered downwards for a second to how her arms pushed her breasts higher and more together.

God she's gorgeous when she's mad he thought, his cock twitching in his jeans. He ducked his head and scoffed.

"Ya know what I mean, can't even hunt without hurtin' yaself."

"Go away Dixon." She turned on her heel and stormed off up the bank, and climbing up the RV ladder to take watch. Daryl sighed and slopped off back to his brother, who was laughing, finding the whole scene hilarious.

**********

Phoenix nodded up at the hunter and pulled on her boots and grabbed her bow. She followed Daryl over to his tent where his brother was preparing to go into the city. Merle gave her a once over as she approached, his eyes narrowed at the bow across her back and the stains on the bandage around her left hand.

"Mornin' Firebug." He drawled as the pair stopped. She nodded and heaved her backpack tighter to her shoulder beside her quiver of arrows. "Y'all gonna be alright t' hunt wit' tha' hand?" He questioned, giving his brother a glance. Daryl gave Merle a hooded lidded look and nodded his head up. "Don't wanna waste my time if ya gonna drop down dead on poor Darlena 'ere."

The girl smirked and shoved the older man's shoulder playfully before flipping him off, striding towards the treeline.

"You watch 'er baby brother. She's one of us now."

"Hmm" Daryl said, glancing at the girl as she waited just under the cover of the trees for him. Merle gave a low chuckle and Daryl glared at him. "Stop."

"Come on baby brother, don't be like that." Merle stood and patted him on the shoulder. "Ya been pining after 'er for weeks now. Just give her some of the ol' Dixon charm. If ya even have any!" He barked out a laugh as his brother scoffed and walked away, joining the girl and disappearing into the woods.

**********

A low whistle drew her attention and she glanced in the direction of it. Daryl raised his hand and pointed off towards the copse of trees in front of him. Keeping her body low to the ground and her steps feather light she approached him. Her eyes darting out at the small herd of deer in front of them, they'd finally found them after two days in the woods. She raised her hand and pointed to the smaller of the two bucks. Daryl nodded and gestured he was going to try and get around them so if they darted he could take a shot. She nodded and crouched lower, using the shrubs to hide her. Daryl wandered away silently as she waited for his signal.

A loud shriek pierced the air and the deer scattered. Daryl swore and took off after the smaller buck, Phoenix following him at a distance.

**********

They stopped by a small creak, Phoenix dipping her hand into it and running it over the back of her neck. She felt like she was on fire, yet icy cold at the same time. The infection in her hand had well and truly set in, she needed to be careful or she'd drop and not get back up.

"We go a littl' further then stop fer the night." Daryl mummered beside her, wiping his soaked red rag over the back of his neck and down his face. She nodded, eyes staring off into the stream. He watched her carefully, the way her hair at the back of her neck was slightly curly, the way her ears twitched as if she was a rabbit or a deer hearing a predator. He found her beautiful and mysterious. A riddle he wanted to solve. He couldn't help his attraction to her physique either, the woman was beautiful. Not perhaps every man's wet dream but he found her incredibly sexy.

He admired how she wore gothic, all black, metal studded and chained clothes despite the heat, her short dyed dark red hair, the regrowth hinting at sandy blond, spiked with sweat these days that cried out to be tugged as she was kissed, the slight thicker set of her thighs, buttocks and stomach, he much preferred a girl with a bit of weight than the skinny, almost starved look some of the women up at camp had; the ink he could spy under her clothes was calling out for him to discover exactly how many tattoos she had and why she'd chosen them. He had seen a glimpse of the tattoos on her by accident when he'd stumbled upon her at the lake having a quick swim and also when he'd found her in the woods. She kept herself well covered normally, she said she got sunburn easily. He could spy an interesting shaped scar across her collar bone when she wore lower cut shirts, not that she did very much now.

Not since he'd saved her in the woods a week or so ago.

He loved how well they worked as hunters together. She knew enough to track decently and was surprisingly quiet on her feet, despite the heavy metal covered, thick platform soled boots she chose to wear. They're only issue seemed to be that they butted heads constantly when not hunting, both taking verbal swipes at each other whenever they tried to have a conversation, sometimes she'd slap him on the arm; Merle finding it hilarious and entertaining to join in. Damn Merle, was his fault she got hurt in the first place. If he hadn't egged her on about her lack of hunting abilities, she wouldn't have been out in the woods by herself in the first place.

He sighed quietly as she raised to her feet and moved away, eyes scanning the forest floor for the deer's tracks, finding them and leading the way.

**********

Daryl grunted as he lowered himself down beside the girl, who was turning a stick through the weak fire in front of her. The night was silent except for the light wind. He silently settled down against the log and took out of one of the squirrel for the pair to eat. Daryl made quick work of gutting and skinning the small rodent and shoved it on a stick to slowly roast over the flames. The girl's eyes drifting upwards towards the stars. She looked so peaceful that he didn't want to disturb her.

"We gotta head back in the morning if we don't find the deer." She nodded and pulled her arms around her own shoulders, shivering slightly. "Come 'ere." He said, holding his arms open for her to settle beside him. Daryl usually hated touching others and being touched was a rarity for him but he'd made the exception for her while they hunted. It was simply for survival he told himself. If she got too cold she'd get sick and then the group wouldn't have a hunter when he and Merle left. And he'd feel that guilt all his life, the kids needed fresh meat so he was doing something for the group. Nothing to do with his stupid little crush. Nope, he was doing it for the group. She shuffled closer and wrapped an arm around his waist. Her head found his chest and she sighed, feeling the heat from Daryl seep into her cold bones. Daryl frowned, she felt hot yet she was shivering like crazy.

That damn hand.

He pulled her closer and ran his hand cautiously up and down her arm. She flinched at first then relaxed into his embrace.

"Ya alright?"

"Yea. Just cold." She whispered, her warm breath causing goose bumps across Daryl's chest. She blinked slowly, feeling sleep call her. The smell of Daryl's warm body lulling her, she had missed falling asleep in a man's arms. It was familiar and comforting. She felt safe, warm and protected despite the dead walking.

**********

The sharp whistle drew her attention to the left. She nocked her arrow and let it fly, hitting the deer in the hind leg causing it to run. The two hunters had caught up to the deer earlier and were driving it towards camp. Daryl was in the rear urging it forward, while she made it turn in the right direction when it veered too far to the left.

She spotted the steep banks that marked the outer edges of the quarry and smiled.

Almost home.

Taking another shot to steer the deer towards the lower bank she smiled. The group would eat well tonight. She stumbled and shot at the hind leg again. The deer in one last desperate burst of energy slipped out of her sight but it was very close to camp. Wouldn't take long for them to catch up.

**********

Phoenix paused and braced her arms on her knees, Daryl whistled in question, asking if she was alright as he walked by her. She held up a hand in reply. He grumbled and walked away. She could hear yells and the sounds of stomping as she neared the rocks that hid camp.

Daryl was knelt on the ground and looking over the deer.

"Think we could cut around the chewed up part?" He said looking up at Dale and the others. Phoenix's eyes narrowed as she spotted a new face amongst the men. The group of men didn't seem to notice her as she joined Daryl at his side, subconsciously seeking his protection from the stranger. Fear made her heart pound loudly in her ears as Daryl stood.

"I wouldn't risk that" Shane said quietly, Daryl sighed dejectedly frustrated he hadn't been able to feed the group more.

"That's a damn shame. We got us some squirrels... About a dozen or so. That'll have to do."

"Oh my god!" Amy gasped as the head of the walker suddenly began to gnash its teeth.

"Come on people! What the hell?!" Daryl exclaims as he releases a bolt through its undead head. "It's gotta be the brain! Don't y'all know nothin'?!"

Phoenix smirked, shouldering her bow as she followed Daryl back into camp. She gave a glance over her shoulder at the group behind her, noticing the exchange of looks between them.

"MERLE! MERLE! Get ya ugly ass out here! Got us some squirrel! Let's stew 'em up!" Daryl calls out, Phoenix swivelling her head to see where the elder Dixon was.

"Daryl, just slow up a bit. I need to talk to you." Shane called, his hands on his hips as the group avoids Daryl and Phoenix's eyes.

"About what?" Daryl queries, pausing his march around the camp. Phoenix, instinctively, taking Daryl's back with a bad feeling in her gut.

"DD... Hear him out." She whispers as Daryl narrows his eyes in suspicion. Daryl glances at her briefly before turning back to Shane.

"About Merle... There was a... There was a problem in Atlanta." The former officer sighs, his hand reaching out as if to pacify the man. Phoenix grits her teeth and reaches for the gun hidden behind her shirt slowly, sensing this was not going to end well.

"He dead? "

"We're not sure..."

OH shitttt Phoenix thought, slipping the brace of squirrels and her bow off her shoulder.

"He either is or he ain't!" Daryl stated, his voice raising in anger as his face grew more dark.

"No easy way to say this so I'll just say it." The newcomer said quietly, stepping into the discussion.

"Who are you?!" Daryl asked, confused slightly as to what this stranger had to do with his brother's disappearance.

"Rick Grimes."

"Rick Grimes?!" Daryl spat aggressively, his face a mask to the hurt and anger underneath. "You got summit ya want t' tell me?"

"Your brother was a danger to us all, so I... I handcuffed him on a roof, hooked him to a piece of metal... He's still there."

"What the fuck!?" Phoenix snarled as her eyes narrowed at the newcomer. Her stance widening, readying herself for a fight. Daryl began pacing, his eyes meeting hers, she gave a barely there nod in agreement with him.

"Hold on... Let me process this. You're sayin' you handcuffed my brother to a roof and you left him there!?" Daryl growled as he paced, the woman edging towards Shane, out of Daryl's path to Rick.

"Yeah."

Daryl growls loudly as he throws his rope of squirrels at Rick, who dodges them easily.

"Hey! Watch the knife!" T-Dog yells as Daryl pulls his knife. Shane dodges Phoenix and gets behind Daryl, quickly putting him into a chokehold. Phoenix steps up behind Shane, her own knife slipping into her grip, her gun giving a low click as she removed the safety and pointed it at the curls of Shane's hair.

"Okay... Okay..." Shane whispers, lowering Daryl and himself to the ground.

"You'd best let me go!" Daryl gasped, struggling to free himself.

"Do as he says!" Phoenix snarls, her Beretta a mere breath away from Shane's skull.

"Chokehold's illegal!" Daryl grunts, thrashing his legs. Phoenix lowers her gun to Shane's shoulder, ready to pull the trigger if needed.

"You can file a complaint!" Shane laughs weakly. "Come on man. We'll keep this up all day."

"Like shite we will. I'll shoot ya first mate!" The red head growled as Rick kneels in front of Daryl and Shane, his head tilting to the side.

"I'd like to have a calm discussion on this topic. Do you think we can manage that? Do you think we can manage that?"

Daryl grunts, ceasing to struggle, slapping his hand out to the side of him; silently signalling to the woman to stand down as Shane hums in question.

"Mmm...Yeah." Daryl replies.

Shane releases him quickly and steps away as the younger man raises himself to his feet. Shane's eyebrows raised as Phoenix pulls herself to her full height, him and Rick giving her a worried glance. She smirks and makes a show of putting her knife and gun back into their places. Rick turns to Daryl and rubs the back of his neck slowly.

"What I did was not on a whim. Your brother does not work or play well with others."

"It’s not Rick's fault!" T-Dog interrupted, the large man stepping closer. "I had the key... I dropped it!"

Phoenix scoffed, glaring at the man.

"Ya couldn't pick it up?!" Daryl questioned, his anger disappearing and being replaced by worry and anxiety.

"Well, I dropped it in a drain."

"If that’s supposed to make me feel better, it don't." Daryl snapped as he shook his head, pacing in a small circle. Phoenix joining him at his side and glaring daggers at T-Dog.

"Maybe this will... Look, I chained the door to the roof... So geeks couldn't get at him... With a big ass chain and padlock. Its got to count for something!"

"Hell with all y'all! Just tell me where he is... So that I can go get him." Daryl choked out, his voice cracking with tears as Phoenix gently placed a hand on his shoulder.

"So we can go get him." She declared, daring anyone to argue with her. Daryl gave her a tiny up nod at her and squeezed her hand on his shoulder lightly.

"He'll show you. Isn't that right?" Lori spoke up from the door of the RV, she looked to Rick quietly awaiting his reply.

"I'm going back." He stated quietly. Lori sighed and walked into the RV.

*********

Phoenix pulled on her long studded leather jacket and secured her axe into the specialised holster on her back. Daryl stood beside her silently, chewing his lip. The Brit have a slight wobble as she got lighter headed and Daryl's mind came to only one solution to a major issue between the pair.

"Hey."

"Hey DD. You ready to go get Merle?" She asked, bending to tie her boot laces. "Yea... Ya not comin' though."

"What!? You can't be serious DD! You need me with you so those picks don't leave you there as well!" She snapped back as he turned to walk away.

"Daryl!"

"Nah. Ya hurt. Too many geeks in the city fer ya axe. Stay here. Keep safe." He argued back, she growled in her throat and pushed by him. His hand wrapped around her arm in a bruising grip.

"Dixon..."

"Listen... Stay here. I don't... Just... Fuck." He hissed. "Merle will be pissed. Real pissed."

"He'll of been baked in the sun ya mean! He is gonna be stir fried from the heat! He's gonna need someone to calm him down. He ain't gonna hurt me DD... He wouldn't hurt me." She sighed, her head beginning to throb. "I have to Daryl. I owe him one!"

"Nah ya don't!"

"Yes I fucking do!"

"No. Ya stayin' here!"

"I'm going!" She yelled, hands on her hips.

"No!"

"Yes!"

"NO! And that's final!"

The pair continued to argue for several more minutes until Shane interrupted them, the pair literally chest to chest and needing to be pulled apart before fists began to fly. Phoenix huffed and stormed away into the woods as the man agreed with Daryl. Daryl glared after the fiery woman before stomping off to the truck, missing her turning back towards the camp and leaning against a tree with her arm crossed against her chest.

Phoenix glanced at the truck Daryl stood in. She wanted to wish them luck but knew Daryl was still angry with her. He looked in her direction and nodded his head, a small smile gracing the corner of his mouth. She sighed and walked towards him, he knelt down at the open shutter and tilted his head towards her. "Keep safe in the city DD." She whispered, gazing upwards into the man's sky blue eyes. He nodded and chewed his thumb. "Bring Merle back. Wouldn't be the same round here without that dickhead."

"Yea. Be quieter fer sure." He chuckled, smiling fondly at the girl. Phoenix reached up and pulled at Daryl, forcing him to brace himself against the ledge as she hugged him with one arm against her chest. Daryl slowly relaxed enough to enjoy her closeness and leaned his head on top of hers.

"Please come back." She whispered into his ear as he pulled back slightly, his eyes flitting around camp to make sure no one was witnessing the exchange. He nodded lightly into her neck, his arm coming to loosely hold her waist. He breathed in her soothing subtle scent and closed his eyes to help him memorise thee moment, just in case. He cleared his throat and pulled away, feeling a certain part of his anatomy starting to stir. She smiled weakly at him with teary eyes and walked away.

"Hey!"

Phoenix turned slightly, the breeze making her hair wave over her face softly. Thee sun shining behind her making her hair look like flames licking across the crown of her head. The bruises and cuts across her face hidden in the shadows of her face and hair. So beautiful Daryl thought, smiling slightly. His mind locking the sight into his memory as he stood and waved to her.

"Stay safe!" He called to her, she nodded and waved back. Her cheeks tinting pink at his loud show of concern as she smiled softly.

#the walking dead fanfiction #PhoenixBWrites #daryl dixon fanfiction #daryl x oc #Fera Ingris #DarylDixon #daryl dixon x oc #the walking dead fanfic #daryl dixon fanfic #twd fanfiction

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dornish-queen · 4 years

Photo

Pedro Pascal: “I already took all my drugs very early. In middle age, a hangover is not an option ”

When he was approaching 40, he resigned himself to having sporadic papers that would allow him to pay the rent. But playing Oberyn Martell in 'Game of Thrones' changed his life and opened the doors of 'Narcos'. Since then it has not stopped. Now he's the villain from the blockbuster 'Wonder Woman 1984'

JUAN SANGUINO

THE ANGELS OCT 2, 2020 - 3:19 PM EDT

The first big opportunity of his career was presented in 2011, when he participated in the pilot episode of Wonder Woman for NBC, but the network discarded the series and Pedro Pascal returned to his main occupation: casting castings to play the criminal of the week in the Law and order of duty. “That cancellation was a disappointment, of course, I wanted to work. I did not care if it was something good or bad, I just wanted to work, "he recalls today from his home in Los Angeles during a virtual conversation with ICON. Now Pascal plays the villain of Wonder Woman 1984 , one of the blockbusters destined to return audiences to movie theaters .

How can you not believe in fate? The boy who broke his arm twice playing Indiana Jones has ended up becoming the favorite hero of the kids (the bounty hunter in The Mandalorian ), his parents (Agent Peña in Narcos ) and, well, everyone's. world (Oberyn Martell, The Red Viper, in Game of Thrones ). When Pedro was little, the good guys were always white and the bad guys were Russian, Arab or Latino. The Wonder Woman 1984 villain , however, is a white billionaire played by a Chilean.

“The film is set in the United States of the eighties, which were marked by capitalist greed. It was a tainted concept of evil. Stripped of humanity, but still absolutely attractive and alluring. People who dreamed of being rich and successful had to be salivated. It is true that at that time villains in the cinema projected a xenophobic image. Now the white man can finally be the bad guy, ”explains Pascal.

Some already compare his character, Maxwell Lord, to Donald Trump because of that muck in this mud: Reagan's glorification of rogue moguls in America turned guys like Trump into aspirational role models and glamorous stars. “Trump was not the core of inspiration for my character, on our costume designer's board were Gordon Gekko [Michael Douglas on Wall Street ], American Psycho's Patrick Bateman and other suckers in expensive eighties suits. All those millionaires who hid despair, unbridled ambition and terrified masculinity ”, he clarifies. If Pedro Pascal sounds like a socialist infiltrated in Hollywood it is because that is exactly what he is.

“When Reagan was elected, many people around me were frustrated that the worst forms of capitalism were winning. In my home, with refugee and socialist parents, conservatism was not demonized but it did go against what was important to my family, ”he says. Pascal's father, José Balmaceda, was an Allende supporter doctor who saved the life of a priest wounded by Pinochet's militia .

The priest was later tortured and ended up confessing the name of his savior. When the police went to look for Balmaceda at the hospital where he worked, he took his wife and the newborn Pedro and jumped over the wall of the Venezuelan embassy in Santiago de Chile to request political asylum. That's why Pedro ended up growing up in San Antonio (Texas), in a socialist home but in Reagan's land. A Chilean with no memories of Chile who was called Peter in high school.

At the age of 20, Pascal was in Madrid working as a go-go and keeps good memories. Here she is wearing a Prada sweater. Photo: Danielle DeGrasse-Alston / Realization: Warren Alfie Baker

The Chilean-born but US-raised actor wears a Paul Smith sweater and suit. Photo: Danielle DeGrasse-Alston / Realization: Warren Alfie Baker

Pascal has never left the immigrant mentality behind. Even his father, who came to open a practice in California, always lived in terror that at any moment everything could vanish. “It doesn't matter who you are, how much you are working or how much you get paid. Deep down you always think that each job is the last one ”, confesses the actor. Maybe that's why he didn't dare move from his Red Hook, Brooklyn, hovel to a house more suitable for a Hollywood star until filming for Kingsman 2 and Narcos was over . Nor is it that he had spent more than an entire week at his house since, in 2014, Game of Thrones made him the guy most people would want to party with.

Pascal knew right away that Oberyn Martell, the Westerosi rockstar who always seemed willing to fight or fornicate with the same bravado, was going to change his life. “I had done a lot of castings for friends' plays, for copier factory ads or for very serious independent films that no one was going to see, while I watched how many characters that I had been about to play changed the lives of others. actors. And thanks to my experience and maturity, I recognized the potential of Oberyn. I understood who he was and who he could be ”, he presumes.

The actor found out about the audition when one of his acting students told him that he had taken the test but had been discarded because of his youth. Pedro snapped up and must have thought, “What would Oberyn do?” So he recorded a video on his phone and sent it to his good friend, actress Sarah Paulson . She passed it on to her good friend actress Amanda Peet and this one to her husband, David Benioff, one of the creators of Game of Thrones . The rest is the history of television and headaches: when he informed the Narcos producer that he was available to play Pablo Escobar's pursuing policeman, he accused him of making a spoiler for Game of Thrones: If Pascal had a free agenda, it is because Oberyn was going to lose his fight against La Montaña . He couldn't imagine, of course, in what way.

Part of that electric, lively and hedonistic energy of Oberyn comes to Pascal from the summer (that of 1996) that he spent in Madrid, where in addition to studying he worked as a go-go in a disco. That stay was transformative because the actor realized that he had had to adapt his identity all his life with each new move, but in Madrid he felt effortlessly at home. “I was 20 years old and I liked it so much that I almost moved. My main language is English, I have an American accent and I can pass for white. But in my house there were many cultural differences with respect to the outside world and I remember that when I was 20 years old, when I came to Madrid, I felt very comfortable in my own skin in a way that I had never felt anywhere else. I guess I was not aware that I had spent my childhood and adolescence learning new ways of adapting, connecting, learning, and pulling. On the contrary, living in Madrid was organic and easy for me. I made friends right away and I felt supported, ”he recalls.

By the time he was 40 Pascal was resigned to being an actor with enough odd jobs to pay the rent. According to him, his aquiline nose was a bad nose by Hollywood standards. Far from being offended or frustrated by this typecasting, he was looking forward to it, if it translated into a new check. “It is very strange to develop a fantasy as a child, to have the opportunity to turn it into a hobby, then some studies and finally transform all that into a career. That is the bet. But my dream of becoming Leonardo DiCapriodied. He died dozens and dozens of times. So to move on he had to accept that, at best, he was going to be an actor with a job. That was already a triumph, "he says. "Also, I accepted that I was not qualified for anything else, I had no more skills: I had put all my time, my energy and my concentration in being an actor and the rest in living life and having fun."

That absence of vanity lives on today, even when he's been involved in large-scale projects for five years without stopping. After Game of ThronesHe has made eight films, of which seven are action blockbusters. The wave of fame came to him when he was no longer expecting it but when he was well prepared to ride it. Still, every workday is a surprise and she acknowledges that what amazes her most about Hollywood is the sheer physical stamina that people have. “Sometimes a project can look like building a city, with all the hours, all the work and all the energy it requires. Some people have better stamina and can get by with little sleep. That is an interesting contradiction: all the people creatively involved in a film have a special sensitivity and at the same time have developed a very tough skin and energy to go through the physical experience of shooting it, ”he admires.

Then Pascal switches to Spanish (the language he uses to confess intimacies) and explains, in a few words, that he is old for this shit. “I thought I had all the energy in the world and now, in my 40s, I see that ... wow! There are times when I don't know if I will be able to reach the goal, because my energy is not at the necessary level. But I always take it forward ”, he guarantees. Maybe that's why people get so high in Hollywood. Pascal responds between laughter and again in Spanish.

“I already took all my drugs very early. It is something that is already too much in the past, and in middle age a hangover is not an option. No, no, no ”, she assures. What if the other hangover, that of the wave of fame, runs over you? “I was a good waiter. Not at first, because they fired me many times, but I ended up getting the hang of it, ”he jokes. If the Hollywood thing doesn't go well, you can always put drinks again. But for now Pedro Pascal is the personification that the American dream , although sometimes it takes a little longer to materialize, really exists. Even Ronald Reagan would be proud.

source

#pedro pascal #el pais icon #whole article

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imaginaryari · 3 years

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Welcome to the Show

Part One

The prisoner looks up as her least favorite cop comes into the interrogation room. Officer Warren has awards for rounding up the enhanced, people like Silver. He walks and talks like a man the people respect and fear. Talks to the enhanced like they’re close on first name bases and revels in the fact that he put them in their cells. What she would give to lay one finger on him. That’s all she needs. Unfortunately, her hands are gloved and bound because officer Warren also knows that.

“To what do I owe the pleasure officer.” She asks.

“How would you like to get out here?”

It’s a trap. Silver knows this. The enhanced don’t get second chances especially not from officer Warren.

“Wasn’t I supposed to rot in here? Just as you said?” Silver asks.

Officer Warren gives her a sick grin. “I thought you would be interested in parole but if you aren’t...there’s plenty of you in here. “

The promise of seeing the outside world again would sway anyone.

“How can I trust you?”

Officer Warren beckons one of the guards. “Remove her cuffs.”

“Sir?”

“Now, please.” Warren orders.

Silver immediately rubs her wrists when the cuffs click open. The relief is almost overwhelming. She quickly reminds herself not to do anything stupid, no matter how satisfying it would be to knock Warren’s lights out.

“There’s a group of enhanced kids going around and robbing people. Messing with their heads. You’re fond of doing that so I thought this would be the perfect way to end your sentence.” Warren had said as he escorted her out.

Silver squints. Nothing about that story adds up. Robbing civilians while common isn’t a team effort especially if you can mess with minds and memory. A group would actually draw more attention and a tight knit one wouldn’t take the risk of losing a member to officials.

Unless your Silver’s ex. Hm. Things are starting to make sense.

“You’ve tried to catch them before.” Silver states.

Warren doesn’t even look ashamed admitting his failure. “Physical powers are one thing. Mental ones are harder. But from my experience you can catch ‘em with a little trust.” He begins to walk away, leaving Silver at the gates. “You have three weeks.”

—

It’s no fancy hotel, barely a motel, but it’s a place and it’s furnished. Officer Warren had said it was hers for as long as it took her to finish her task. Silver won’t complain, before she was arrested, she was constantly couch surfing. Never out staying her welcome and never spending too long on the streets. She had made friends this way but contacting them was out of the question. Getting caught means getting blacklisted. A means of protecting themselves. Well, Silver had been thrown under the bus. Semantics. She won’t see them again and hopefully they’re doing okay.

She shakes her head, never mind that. She has a job to do and extraordinarily little to go on.

The neighborhood is different. She didn’t expect it to be quite the same after lock-up but the changes are more than jarring. New buildings going up, less of the spots her old friends used to hang. Silver is so sure the neighborhood has been purged of the enhanced until she decides to hit up one of the cafés. She stares at it; upset she can’t remember what it used to be and then enters reading the weirdly named drinks on the menu.

“Are you new around here?” another patron asks.

“Not exactly,” Silver says with a shrug, eyeing the stranger. He’s handsome even if he looks like he should have taken a sip of his drink before speaking. The bags under his eyes scream exhaustion but he still sounds awake. And happy about it. “It’s just a while since I’ve been round here.”

“Ah, try the mint hot chocolate. It’s a crowd favorite.”

“Is that what you’re having?”

He chuckles. “No…this is way too caffeinated for the masses.”

“Is the inevitable crash worth it?” She asks.

“Always.” He says as Silver is called next to order. “See you around.” The stranger says exiting. She thinks about the encounter for hours afterwards. The enhanced were still around even if they were muted.

—

She finds what she’s looking for the next day, right before the sun sets. It’s a large tent set up in a nearby park. Big enough to draw attention but lacking the actual necessities to pass as a real circus. No animal trailers, no confection stands. To anyone paying attention there’s no possible way it could have been set up so quickly. Definitely the work of the enhanced.

Civilians flock to the tent with the promise of entertainment. Silver by-passes the line and taps a potential viewer on their shoulder. “You don’t really want to see this show, right? I can take that ticket off you.” The man blinks and then hands over his ticket. Silver quickly takes it and makes her way to her seat.

The spotlight lowers, illuminating what has to be the ringleader. He’s barely dressed for the occasion. Top hat donned but instead of a blaring red jacket, a black T-shirt with a tuxedo print and black jeans contrasting nicely with white sneakers.

“Hello everyone. Welcome to your wildest dreams. I’ll be your guide. Whenever you need me you can shout More!” Silver snorts at the corny introduction but still applauds with the crowd. It takes a moment but she recognizes him. The man from the café with the over caffeinated drink. Interesting. So far he’s just the host, maybe the leader of this whole operation, but Silver can’t place an ability just yet.

“Please give a round of applause to our first act, Mirage, master of illusion.”

Silver is willing to bet he’s the one responsible for the tent. His set isn’t too extravagant; he just has smoke and card tricks. It’s what he does with them that counts. Shifting the smoke to look like a bird that soars over the crowd. It lands ever so gently on the empty seat in front of one of the viewers. The spotlight shifts to them, a young boy, and he offers a nervous smile, not prepared for the attention. The guest looks to Mirage who gives a cocky smile. “Blow it away.” He instructs through his mic. With a shrug he does. The smoke dissipates to reveal a real bird. A stark white dove. The young boy reaches for it face lit up in wonder, but it takes off landing right on Mirages shoulder. He pets it to prove its real and the dove seems to love it. However, it then dissipates into smoke after Mirage blows on it. That confirms it for Silver, the dude simply makes illusions.

“I need a volunteer for my next trick.” Mirage says.

He and More look around at the audience and More locks eyes with Silver. There’s a connection, a shock of understanding, and something else she can’t quite place before he says, “You, cutie with the hood. Would you like to help Mirage?”

Silver nods unable to break eye contact.

“Don’t be nervous, it’s just a simple card trick.” Mirage says, a deck of cards pulled from his pockets. Silver keeps her head down and her hood on as she walks into the ring. She wasn’t supposed to draw attention. More finally backs away giving Mirage the stage.

It is a simple card trick, with a lot of flourish. Silver selects a card, memorizes it, puts it back in the deck. Mirage is skilled making the cards seem to dance, shuffling and tossing them even pulling some from behind Silver. Sleight of hand can be learned, however,

“Is this your card?”

“It sure looks like it!” Silver says, and the audience applauds. Her choice in words don’t go unnoticed by Mirage. He smiles, like he just learned a juicy secret and gestures for Silver to return to her seat.

More passes her on his way back to the stage and gives her a similar smile to Mirage’s. She can’t help but feel she shouldn’t have done that.

“Our next act goes by Charlie. He doesn’t say much but he’s loads of fun!”

Silver immediately understands how the next act earned his name. Charlie dances out, encompassing Chaplin’s energy. He dons a similar top hat to More, and shirt except his is white instead. More comments on this with a laugh. “Clearly one of us has to change!” As corny as Silver finds More, she can’t say she’s not amused. Charlie looks More up and down, and then gets into a stance. He’s posed like a batter on home base and leans back and forth on his toes. He swings and More ducks, his top hat flying across the ring as if a real bat had hit it. The trick ears them impressed gasps and amused giggles from the audience. From Silver it earns a disbelieving stare. She’s never seen an enhanced like Charlie yet.

Charlie continues, his set like any traditional mime. Tripping over objects that aren’t there, pushing invisible walls, overexaggerating his facial expressions. Except Silver thinks, knows, he isn’t. There is a wall the audience can’t see. Silver can’t prove it, and wouldn’t even know where to begin explaining Charlie to officer Warren.

“Give it up for Charlie everyone!” More says shaking Silver from her thoughts. Charlie leaves the stage with the same comedic swagger and a wave.

“Now our next act is unfortunately our last. But we always go out with a bang! Please welcome to the ring, Star!”

With the snap of More’s fingers the lights go out. Another snap and they’re back, along with a woman sitting on a trapeze. She’s beyond beautiful, it could be the lighting, or the slight shimmer she has, but she’s captivating all the same. Her hair is pulled into two puffs and her smile dazzles the audience. Silver notes that there is no apparent netting beneath her, that should be concerning.

The music starts, a haunting melody punctuated by a bass that Silver feels in her chest. Star is flying above the audience on her trapeze. She hangs by her legs and lets her arms hang. If Silver focuses, she can see what looks like dust, her charisma spills off of her, entrancing the audience. She makes another mental note, three out of four isn’t bad. Maybe she wrong about him being enhanced. He could just be the fall guy if this all goes to shit. Authorities like Warren wouldn’t keep a powerless civilian. It’s smart. The doubt lingers. She knows what she felt.

Silver almost misses the end. Stars trapeze returns to the ring and she waves before letting go and falling to the ground. The audience gasps bracing for an impact that never comes. Star vanishes in a puff of smoke that settles all over the ring. The applause is stuttered out, the crowd is impressed and worried.

When the smoke clears the applause picks back up as all the performers are safe, taking their bows.

“Thank you all for coming!” More says. The lights go out. When they come back on the group is gone. Well, that’s one way to end things.

“Like the show?” A voice comes up from behind Silver. She’s just as dazzling up close and silver can see how she captivates the audience. The charisma wisps around her like smoke.

“Sure did. Wasn’t expecting to be part of it though.”

“Yeah, More can be a bit impulsive,” Star says apologetically. She steps closer to whisper. “But his guess was right! You are like us.”

“All of you? Special?”

“Yup!”

“What gave me away?”

“You didn’t immediately fall for my charm.”

“...really?”

“That and More caught you using your gift to get a ticket.”

“Also caught her struggling to order at the café,” More says rounding on them. “We should stop meeting like this.”

#mine #short story #circus story #writing #a story in 3 parts #its rough idc

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nikkywrites · 3 years

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hand in marriage prompt

Prompt: “Explain how you eldest child of the kingdom’s rulers, disguised yourself as a suitor and fought for your own hand in marriage in a competition, and won” by @writing-prompt-s

Minor spelling/grammar edits.

*****

Your father’s hands shake behind the podium when he announces the competition. It is an age old custom, one that has fallen out of practice but one that is being revived in an attempt to win back the people’s favor.

They are on the verge of a revolution, a coup. Granting people a chance at the throne is the only way to settle them, keep peace.

Disaster will strike if any of them take the throne.

You’re sitting pretty at his side, smiling demurely at the crowds before you like your mother taught you. Heat swells in your palms as you listen to the barely-even tone of your father’s voice.

The crowd cheers jovially, each hoping that they will be the one to take the throne. His speech ends and you all retreat back to the castle, your youngest brother tugging at your skirts with wide-eyes, wondering why your father’s shoulders collapsed down as soon as he was out of sight of the public.

“It’s all right, John,” you soothe him, a burning determination taking root in your chest. “I’ll fix this.”

You pry his fingers off and pass him to his caregiver, and he goes off to change out of the stifling clothes. You jog up your father with skirt bunched in your fists.

“Father,” you speak conversationally, ever wary of prying ears and slowing to match his pace. “Would it be all right if I entered a person of my choosing into the competition?”

His eyes spark like lightning when he looks at you, frowns. “That defeats the purpose,” he says, although you recognize careful royal-bound wording when you hear it. “You cannot choose your groom. It is too risky.”

“I won’t be choosing anyone,” you reply, nodding. “Stack the odds against them, if you must, but the others will be invigorated knowing that they are not the one in my favor.”

He mulls over your words, eyes running over the expansive halls. “I do not choose who makes it in,” his eyes settle forwards and he avoids looking at you. “But the Gamemaker will be having a luncheon with us the day after next.”

Being royal has taught you many things — the order of silverware, how to smile in the face of political ruin, how to word insults like compliments and how to decode the unspoken.

You stumble a step and fan your face. “I’ve been feeling a little warm, lately.” Your stride falters and fails to match his, dragging you behind as you tug at the tight wrap of your corset. “Must I be present at the luncheon?”

“I’ll make the servants aware that you’ll be retired to your rooms.”

He continues on to whatever he’s going — most likely to plan out the competition stages, speak with the Gamemaker to begin choosing eligible men. You turn and walk to your rooms, gait long and even.

There’s a hidden drawer in your closet. Hidden behind the puffiest of your dresses, there is a shelf of plainer clothes, borish pants and loose-fitting shirts. Peasant clothes. Boy clothes. A stack of caps that hide the length of your hair and the pristine golden sheen of it.

They’re not the clothes you go to change into, instead sliding into your riding clothes and tying your hair away from your face in an updo the public would gasp at the messiness of.

For appearances, you’re supposed to be regulated to your room, playing sick. You sneak into the stables and to a young guard you’ve sort of befriended who works there. He has his own horse, a gangly mare named Sandy that doesn’t compare to the royal-bred horses, but she’s sweet and she’s fast and that’s enough for her to stay.

She’s the horse you practice hard riding on. You’re taught proper side saddle riding from your tutor, but the guard has taught you how to gallop across a field while making yourself a small target. He teaches you how men ride horses.

Men like the ones who will compete for your hand in a week’s time.

After riding, you practice archery. You’re strained, and your fingers shake, but if you can hit a bullseye like this, it’ll be easier when you have a steady hand.

During luncheon, you sneak out of your room and switch a name from the jar. It’s a boy’s name, completely ambiguous and too common to pinpoint to a specific house on a week’s notice. It is one that’s carefully picked, and when they are announced at the end of the week, you don’t smile any more or less for that name than you do the others.

Thankfully, you’re not obligated to be present, and, even if you were, you have a loyal maid who is similar in feature, enough to fool anyone at a distance. You keep up your charade of sickness, while you slip on your boyish clothes, dusted brown from when you had a maid rub it in the dirt. Only those who lived in the palace had pristine white on their clothes. The leather covers it up quite well, though.

There are three legs to the completion. Riding, and mounted archery in the first, to emulate a hunt, although the targets stand still. The second leg is battle tactics, a game to test one’s strategic thinking, how they would manage armies in the face of war. The third is a fight among those who remain.

The competition is hard.

It’s supposed to be, of course, they’re competing for your hand and your father’s crown. That doesn’t make it any easier, but you have an advantage they don’t. You’ve been training, and that guard is a good teacher, or maybe you’re just a fast learner.

But you outrace and outshoot them in the first leg, grinning cockily and fighting the urge to blow a kiss to the losers.

Of the twenty men who joined, you among them, sixteen pass the first test. The war game is where many fail, underestimating a threat or losing too many troops. That one is easy for you, effortless. The number of men left is halved.

In the final part, most of them want your head. You realize that you should have held back some, in previous matches, to not make yourself such a large target, but it is too late now. It’s a bracket system where only the winners proceed and the peasants pay a week’s wage to watch (and bet on) who will become their next King.

You all fight in turns until only one is left. The sword you are given is steel, heavy and too long, unbalanced in your hand. Your first opponent — you will beat him, at the very least — seems happy to see how you struggle.

You’re the third pair to square off, and though he is bigger, you are faster. Your blades clash and you twist so your blade swings around to rest against his neck. It is over quickly.

You eye the other matches, your opponents and how you can defeat them. The one you had faced in your first match appears to not have been one of the more skilled ones. Pity.

As you step back into the ring for your second match, you become aware of the throb in your wrist. Using the wrong blade and swinging it a little too swiftly, making so you had to abruptly pull back so you didn’t chop off your opponent’s head had taken it’s toll.

You ignore the subtle pain and clench your jaw, doubling as a means to focus and a way to harden out the shape of it. You will not lose, no matter which stops you have to pull.

Even if you must rely on your family secret to save you.

It would be a dirty move to pull, knowing that they have no such talent and that if they did, they would have strategically dropped out in one of the earlier matches. It would be impossible for them to hide their non-humanness from their wife for the rest of their lives.

No. The only ones left were those who wished to take the throne of the King and you, who wanted that seat to remain empty until you decide otherwise.

You will not bow to tradition.

Invigorated, you meet your next opponent in the middle of the ring, spotting how his veins run thick in his hands, weathered from fighting. You narrow your eyes and lift your chin — needless, as you’re not much shorter than any of them there, and you were actually taller than some, something that’s a bane to a girl.

The start is called and you move swiftly. You take careful care to watch your energy levels, making sure to conserve some for your fight, the final one. The man before you, red-faced and ruddy, is merely another obstacle for you to overcome.

His cockiness becomes his weakness, him taking too-big swings that you easily dodge, sneaking in to press your blade to his throat, pressing so drops of blood swell over the edge and drip. Injuries were only frowned upon if major, this was nothing, a scratch that would quickly heal. A measure to remove doubt as you’d left your last opponent spotless.

When Kings were brought to war, when they got so desperate, there was no choice but to spill blood.

The last fight is where things go wrong.

This man is tall, corded with muscle and comfortable with the blade in his hand. His breath comes easily and he appears not to be at all winded, but he must for he won against two others.

Your flaw in this fight is underestimating him and not ducking far enough. He swipes the cap from your head and your hair is visible.

That is the moment that the winner is decided.

Rage leaps up in your throat, pushed by the fear that you’ll be disqualified, and fire rages from your hands and travels the length of your sword to meet your opposer’s arm.

He screams as he loses, dropping the heated blade in his hand, patting at the melting flesh of his arm. You stare at referee stoically, hair hanging in your face, giving him your best glare as he stutters out his results.

“The winner of the princess’ hand...” he shakes, still looking at you and hoping his words won’t cost him his head, watching crowd silent at the new turn, breaths held, “is the princess.”

There is no cheering, no booing, just echoing silence.

You match into the throne room after, loosely circled by guards and the referee. You don’t bother to change into a dress, barely bother to comb your hair out of your face.

Your father needs to hear what you’ve done.

By tradition, you wait outside the door. The referee stutters something about unprecedention, a surprise, what they should do. You can feel your father’s worry through the door.

He recognizes you when you step into the room, still boyish with your clenched jaw and narrow eyes, daring anyone to say anything about your current state of dress.

His face breaks out in relief.

Your family secret is still safe. Your bloodline not to be sullied by mortal blood. Later, your partner will be of your choosing and of your species. You won that right squarely and you will fight again if anyone challenges it.

You are coronated a moon’s phase later. You wear your hair long, some loose and some intricately braided, following tradition in every way but one. When the time comes for the crown to be upon your head, you don’t wear the crown of Queen.

The pastor coronates you with your father’s crown.

You are both Queen and King, until you decide to bequest one of the titles to another.

Until than, your kingdom is yours and no one else’s.

*****

I remember having a hard time keeping this a prompt. Still kind have the urge to do something bigger on this premise, specifically with the inhuman ruling family twist, but I don’t know if it’ll happen.

This is a good run down of how it would be, though. Still good as a prompt.

#writeblr #writblr #creative writing #writing #prompt fill #nikkywritesstories #nikkywritesprompts #my writing #this is a long prompt #but i wanted to flesh it out more #still might #repost from my old blog

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agentsofsupernaturalmarvel · 4 years

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Lost Time // Luke Patterson

Warning: Talk of death, depression, angst and fluff

Words: 2.2k

Might as well join the Julie and the Phantoms fan club!

Masterlist

“Hey.” Luke spoke, pressing a kiss to your cheek backstage, “Missed you.”

“You saw me last night.”

“A monumental time.” Luke bent his bend to place a lingering kiss on your bare shoulder, his jacket having fallen down, “Three years together and a bright future ahead.”

“We’re getting street dogs.” Luke spoke, bringing your body to rest on his chest, “Do you want one?”

“I’ll pass.” You wrinkled your nose, turning to wrap your arms around his neck, “I don’t know how you guys like those.”

“Tradition.” Luke shrugged caressing your cheekbone with the pad of this thumb. Gazing at features he wanted to wake up to for the rest of his life, “Still down with the plan?”

“The minute I’m eighteen, we go to the nearest chapel.” You grinned playing with the hair at the nape of his neck, “I’ll be waiting Rockstar.”

1995 was the worst year of your life. 1996 was the hardest, especially with the forever reminder of your love. You wouldn’t trade 1996 for the world however, only wishing for one change.