#There are ELEVEN CHAPTERS LEFT how can anyone know yet that it's only a 5 star manga smh my head
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The 174 people on Mangadex that have the GG Comic Anthology bookmarked so they get updates when I post a new chapter are some of the sexiest and most beautiful people in the world
#textpost#My followers here are tumblr are sexy and beautiful too but Mangadex is The Source for these updates#Can't post about it anywhere else before it goes up on Mangadex#The two people who rated the GGCA 5 stars on there are my arch nemeses though#There are ELEVEN CHAPTERS LEFT how can anyone know yet that it's only a 5 star manga smh my head#I gave it 10 stars because I already know but that's different I'm the nerd translating it can you imagine if I Didn't know#Still completely in pure AWE at whoever it was that hunted down the raw scans on Archive then added every single artist to the GGCA page#Who did it... I am forever in their debt
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My Sweet Rose, Chapter 1
From the imagine on imagine-Loki here.
Summary: Rosie got a job working at The Avengers tower with her cousin, Pepper. She’s only been there a week when Loki comes live there, to make up for his past deeds in New York. But this brings a lot of problems for Rosie.
Loki was her Daddy Dom. Who vanished one day without a word, leaving her completely broken and lost.
Note: Daddy/little dynamic & Flashbacks will be in Bold. I’m not sure how long this story will be, I’m thinking no more than 5 chapters though. But I saw the imagine and omg I love it, had to do something with it. Haven’t written anymore of it yet but just HAD to share the first chapter so far, oops! lol.
-
Rosie had been working and living in the Avengers tower for a week now, it was going really well. And it was helping to keep her mind occupied, getting her back on her feet after such a rough year.
She was a PA for Stark, and the other Avengers if they needed anything too. It was helping her cousin, Pepper out a lot. As Stark was very demanding nowadays and the others were becoming that way too.
It was also good for Rosie. She’d had a really tough year. She met someone a few years ago in a BDSM club, it had been her first time there after spending months building up the courage to go. She was a little, and had been wanting to find someone that she could feel safe with to explore that side of her.
She met a man, who was charming and handsome. Kind, funny. They fell in love, or so she thought anyway. He was the perfect Daddy Dom for her, teaching her everything and looking after her. She adored and loved him so much. Which is why when one day he just vanished, it was all the harder for her.
He just never returned after saying he had to go home to visit his family, who lived in Iceland apparently. But he did that regularly and always returned to her. But not that time. To say she was heartbroken when there was not even a call or a text from him explaining why was an understatement.
His name was Loki. And it became clear what happened a few months later after his disappearance, she saw him on the news. Loki, the God Of Mischief, was trying to take over the world. She couldn’t believe it and thought she was dreaming when she realised it had was her Loki. He looked different in the heavy armour, he looked scary.
But she thought no wonder he left her, he was a God and a Prince after all. What would he have wanted with her in the first place anyway?
She had tried a couple of times to date someone else, but never made it past the first date. As they just… weren’t him. No matter how often she tried to just forget about him. It was difficult.
She’d fallen into a downward spiral, not even able to go to work. So she had lost her job and was on benefits for a while. She became really anxious and nervous.
But here, in the tower, she was trying to turn herself around again. It had been one man, even if he had been her first true love, in her heart anyway. She knew she would heal, in time. Even if it had been over a year.
Rosie had been so engrossed in sorting out some paperwork for Tony that she never noticed the newcomer coming into the kitchen. She barely even registered Thor introducing her to him. ‘This is Rosie, our PA, she’s new here.’
Not until she heard an all too familiar voice responding that sent shivers down her spine and sent her heart racing.
‘Rosie… My sweet Rose?’
There was only one person who had ever called her that.
Slowly she looked up, eyes widening, standing before her was Loki.
‘Oh my sweet Rose, you’ve done Daddy so proud.’ Loki purred gently as he cradled her in his lap.
She felt so safe and secure, curled up against him as he wrapped a blanket around her naked body. Knowing how cold she always got after they’d played together quite so intensely.
Loki rocked her back and fore softly as he ran his fingers through her hair, soothing her. She was trembling a bit after her orgasms, Loki had pushed her almost past her limit, but he knew. He always knew when to stop at the right time.
He was an intense Daddy, and could be really strict at times. But he was fair and ever so kind. He had his goofy moments and was extremely playful too, which she loved. He was never angry with her, always calm and collected. Even when she misbehaved, not that that happened often.
She clung to his shirt so tightly, never wanting to let go. Loki had to carefully remove her hand from his shirt just so he could change them into a different position, getting them both under the blanket so he could have her snuggled up next to him. He knew she would fall asleep soon.
‘Daddy.’ She whispered quietly, sounding so vulnerable.
‘Yes, my little one?’ Loki asked, engulfing her small hand in his large one.
‘Can you sing to me?’
Loki smiled. ‘Of course, my sweetling.’
He began singing to her in Asgardian, but he had told her before it was Icelandic. She had no reason not to believe him, especially since he told her he’d grown up there with his parents.
But he had a beautiful voice, she always loved to hear him sing.
She felt so loved as he she drifted off to sleep to the sound of his voice. She faintly remembered a gentle kiss on her forehead just before she fell asleep.
Thor was confused at their interaction, especially as Rosie said nothing at first. Just stared at Loki in utter disbelief.
‘No…’ She shook her head and took a step backwards. ‘You… You don’t get to call me that anymore.’ She said quietly, her voice trembling as tears came to her eyes.
‘Rosie? What’s wrong, did he hurt you?’ Clint asked upon seeing the reaction.
Rosie grabbed the pile of paperwork off the table beside her and she ran off out of the kitchen, with tears falling down her face.
Clint turned to Loki. ‘You’ve got some explaining to do.’ He snapped at him.
‘I have nothing to explain to you, Hawk.’ Loki snarled.
Natasha and Pepper saw Rosie running out of the kitchen in floods of tears, they ran after her into her room. Natasha managed to grab the door before it closed on them.
‘Rosie? Rosie, what’s wrong?’ They both asked as they rushed in to her.
Rosie threw the papers on her bed and she started pacing back and fore, shaking and crying with her arms wrapped around herself. Pepper grabbed her and pulled her down to sit on the bed.
‘Rosie, please speak to us.’ She pleaded with her cousin as Natasha sat at the other side of her.
‘It… It’s him…’ She sobbed.
‘Who? Loki? Did he scare you? I told him not to be an asshole to anyone.’ Natasha said angrily.
‘He… He’s the one. Who I dated before.’ She blurted out, making Pepper and Natasha go silent in shock.
‘But… how?’ Pepper asked.
‘I met him one night in a club. And we dated for eleven months. I was in love with him, utterly and completely. I thought he was with me too. But then he just vanished and never came back one day. Then a few months later, I saw him on the TV… I didn’t tell anyone it was him, because I thought no one would believe me anyway. And what did it matter? It wouldn’t change anything.’ Rosie blurted out between crying.
‘Oh, Rosie. I wish you had told me.’ Pepper pulled her into a hug and cradled her head against her. ‘It’s ok, shhh, shhh. It’s going to be ok.’
Natasha rubbed her back softly. ‘If we had known, we would have warned you he was coming here. I’m so sorry.’
Rosie shook her head and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. ‘No… It’s my fault, I should have told you. I just… it’s a shock to see him face to face.’
Natasha and Pepper nodded in understanding.
They stayed with her for a little while, then when she told them she was ok and was going to take a shower before bed, they left her to it.
But it ended up being the longest shower ever. She kept thinking about Loki and what they had together before.
Kept thinking of when they first met…
Rosie was super nervous when she walked into the BDSM club. But after months of talking herself into it, she finally had the courage to do it.
She didn’t dare tell any of her friends what she was into or what she was doing, perhaps foolish in a way as no one knew where she was. And she was on her own. But she was too embarrassed to tell anyone. Her friends wouldn’t understand.
She relaxed a tiny bit once she was there, noticing other people on their own as well. Getting a few drinks down her helped with her nerves too.
Some of the people she spoke to briefly were really nice. She met a lovely couple at the bar who asked if it was her first time there. They told her if she needed anything to feel free to ask them, not to be shy. That everyone there was really nice and friendly.
There were various demos on that she watched, there was a lot more to some scenes than met the eye. It really made her realise how on sites such as Fetlife and others, it was easy to get sucked into the wanna-be-Dom’s who likely had no idea what they were doing. Or how much safety came into it all.
‘Excuse me, I don’t mean to bother you but I was wondering if you’d like to join me for a drink?’ A beautiful voice came from beside her when one of the demos on aftercare just finished.
Rosie turned and her breath was taken from her as she gazed up at an incredibly tall and handsome man.
‘I… I… Yeah, I would like that, thank you.’ Rosie stammered out, nodding over enthusiastically.
He grinned, showing off his pearly white teeth as he put his hand out towards her. ‘My name is Loki.’ He introduced.
‘I’m Rosie.’ She smiled up at him and put her hand into his. That’s when she noticed his gorgeous hands, so big and he had such long fingers. She blushed hard when he raised her hand up and he kissed the back of it, making her skin tingle like crazy.
‘Pleasure to meet you, Rosie.’ He said charmingly.
Loki gave her his arm and led her over to a free table near the bar. She was really nervous, and Loki could tell. But he soon had her at ease, just chatting away to her calmly and making her laugh almost straight away. She slowly began to relax in his presence.
‘Is this your first time here?’ He asked after buying them both another drink.
‘Is it that obvious?’ She cringed, making him chuckle.
‘Kind of. You did look a bit like a deer in the headlights. But that’s normal for first timers.’ Loki winked at her.
‘So, I’m guessing that means you’ve been here before?’
‘It does.’ He nodded. ‘Not often, it’s probably my fourth visit. Mainly just trying to meet new people, meet anyone that may potentially be interested in a Daddy Dom.’
Rosie’s eyes widened and she suddenly fell shy again as she looked down at her glass and swallowed hard. Loki raised an eyebrow, instantly realising that she was a little. He suspected she was a sub, but hadn’t been sure about the little aspect or not.
Loki leaned forward over the table towards her a little more. ‘Let me take a quick stab in the dark here… But I am presuming that you are a little?’
Her mouth opened and closed again. Then she just opted for nodding in response instead of trusting her voice to actually work.
Loki smiled softly. ‘Nothing to be shy about, sweetheart. That’s why lots of people come to these clubs, to meet their person.’
‘I… I guess so.’ She agreed.
They continued to talk for over an hour, not much about BDSM which Rosie found quite pleasant. He didn’t seem to want to jump straight in so quickly, which in turn made her trust him more and relax.
At the end of the night, Loki handed over a small card with his number on it. ‘There’s absolutely no pressure at all. But I’ve really enjoyed my night with you, Rosie. I would love to take you out on a date, perhaps out for lunch Saturday? But there’s no pressure, I don’t need an answer right now. Just text or call me to let me know. But if I don’t hear from you, that’s ok too. I totally understand.’
Rosie’s heart was racing. Could he get any more considerate? He wasn’t pressuring her at all, not asking for her number. Not even expecting her to contact him if she didn’t want to go on a date with him. Not even needing an answer straight away, what a gentleman.
Loki walked her outside the club and hailed a taxi for her, he even paid in advance for her, not taking no for an answer.
‘I just want to make sure I know you’ll get home safely. And I can’t help it, it’s the protective Daddy in me.’ He shrugged and chuckled, making her giggle shyly.
‘Thank you, Loki.’ She smiled widely at him as she got into the taxi and he closed the door for her once she was in.
He waved her off and she couldn’t stop smiling the whole way home.
Of course, she did text him the following morning to say she would love nothing more than to go on a date with him on Saturday. If that was still what he wanted, too.
Loki replied within a minute, with a time and a place for their first date.
-
‘How DARE you!’ Pepper roared at Loki and launched for him, slapping him across the face. It barely made him flinch, but he clenched his jaw as he glared at her.
Everyone was surprised at Pepper’s outburst.
‘Woah, what did he do?’ Bruce asked.
‘HE is the one that broke my cousin’s heart. She was head over heels in love with you, asshole. Then you just disappeared on her, left her alone without even an explanation. No note, nothing.’ She snarled at him.
Loki narrowed his eyes at her. ‘Not that it’s any of your business, but I did what was right. To protect her. She was better off without me.’
‘You did NOT do what was right. You have no idea what you’ve put her through this past year, how heartbroken she was. Still is!’ Pepper screeched.
Loki faltered. ‘Still is? Did she not find another, she’s a beautiful, incredible woman. How could she not find ano’
‘You are such a fucking idiot!’ Pepper screeched angrily and so wanted to slap him again, but she knew it was pointless.
The guys around him all put their face into their hands.
‘What?’ Loki asked, looking around.
‘That’s a low blow, man. Not even leaving her a note.’ Said Tony.
‘I… I thought I was doing the right thing.’ Loki said, looking at Thor.
Thor nodded. ‘I did not realise that your Rose was this Rosie… But yes, Loki thought he was doing right by her. He was in love with her, adored her. Never shut up about her. But when he discovered his true heritage on a short visit home, he decided not to go back to her. In fear of hurting her.’ Thor explained.
Pepper ran her hands down her face.
‘Well, you failed on that. You probably hurt her more by not at least saying you were over. You have no idea what she’s been through this last year.’ Pepper shook her head in disgust at Loki.
The team all murmured between them and left the room, leaving Loki with Thor.
For the first time in a long time, Thor saw his real brother back. He saw true emotion on his face again, sorrow and guilt.
‘I… I did not mean to hurt her.’ Loki said, still a bit confused. ‘I loved her, Thor… I do love her. I never stopped thinking about her, never loved another.’ He whispered.
Thor sighed and walked over to him, patting his shoulder. ‘I know, brother. I know.’
Loki thought back to the first time she had called him Daddy. How much it made his heart happy that she trusted and wanted him so much…
Rosie and Loki were snuggling on the sofa together, watching some cartoons that she loved. Loki wasn’t overly fond of them, but it made her happy so he always obliged. He was just happy to have her on his lap, comfortable and relaxed in his arms. Where she belonged.
He was lightly stroking her back underneath her top, making her skin tingle. She was in utter heaven, and Loki couldn’t get enough of just simply touching her. He needed touch in some way, whether he was just holding her hand or had the tips of his fingers on her skin, he needed and craved the intimacy with her.
Loki’s fingers trailed a bit too far to her side and up a little, making her squirm and giggle.
‘Daddy, that tickles!’ She laughed and tried to grab his hand to stop him.
But he had already stopped, freezing at what she said. That was the first time she had called him that, even in little space.
The biggest smile spread across his face and he buried his face into her hair and squeezed her tightly to him.
‘Sorry, my sweet little one. I forgot how ticklish you are.’ He purred.
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My Sweet Rose, Chapter 1
TITLE: My Sweet Rose
CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 1
AUTHOR: fanficshiddles
ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine you are secretly a little but no one knows, one day you decide to check out a local BDSM club to try and get a feel of the community. You meet a handsome stranger that, over the next few months, shows you all about the lifestyle. However, one day… he vanishes without a word.
RATING: M
NOTES: Daddy/little dynamic & Flashbacks will be in Bold.
I’m not sure how long this story will be, I’m thinking no more than 5 chapters though. But I saw the imagine and omg I love it, had to do something with it. Haven’t written anymore of it yet but just HAD to share the first chapter so far, oops! lol.
-
Rosie had been working and living in the Avengers tower for a week now, it was going really well. And it was helping to keep her mind occupied, getting her back on her feet after such a rough year.
She was a PA for Stark, and the other Avengers if they needed anything too. It was helping her cousin, Pepper out a lot. As Stark was very demanding nowadays and the others were becoming that way too.
It was also good for Rosie. She’d had a really tough year. She met someone a few years ago in a BDSM club, it had been her first time there after spending months building up the courage to go. She was a little, and had been wanting to find someone that she could feel safe with to explore that side of her.
She met a man, who was charming and handsome. Kind, funny. They fell in love, or so she thought anyway. He was the perfect Daddy Dom for her, teaching her everything and looking after her. She adored and loved him so much. Which is why when one day he just vanished, it was all the harder for her.
He just never returned after saying he had to go home to visit his family, who lived in Iceland apparently. But he did that regularly and always returned to her. But not that time. To say she was heartbroken when there was not even a call or a text from him explaining why was an understatement.
His name was Loki. And it became clear what happened a few months later after his disappearance, she saw him on the news. Loki, the God Of Mischief, was trying to take over the world. She couldn’t believe it and thought she was dreaming when she realised it had was her Loki. He looked different in the heavy armour, he looked scary.
But she thought no wonder he left her, he was a God and a Prince after all. What would he have wanted with her in the first place anyway?
She had tried a couple of times to date someone else, but never made it past the first date. As they just… weren’t him. No matter how often she tried to just forget about him. It was difficult.
She’d fallen into a downward spiral, not even able to go to work. So she had lost her job and was on benefits for a while. She became really anxious and nervous.
But here, in the tower, she was trying to turn herself around again. It had been one man, even if he had been her first true love, in her heart anyway. She knew she would heal, in time. Even if it had been over a year.
Rosie had been so engrossed in sorting out some paperwork for Tony that she never noticed the newcomer coming into the kitchen. She barely even registered Thor introducing her to him. ‘This is Rosie, our PA, she’s new here.’
Not until she heard an all too familiar voice responding that sent shivers down her spine and sent her heart racing.
‘Rosie… My sweet Rose?’
There was only one person who had ever called her that.
Slowly she looked up, eyes widening, standing before her was Loki.
‘Oh my sweet Rose, you’ve done Daddy so proud.’ Loki purred gently as he cradled her in his lap.
She felt so safe and secure, curled up against him as he wrapped a blanket around her naked body. Knowing how cold she always got after they’d played together quite so intensely.
Loki rocked her back and fore softly as he ran his fingers through her hair, soothing her. She was trembling a bit after her orgasms, Loki had pushed her almost past her limit, but he knew. He always knew when to stop at the right time.
He was an intense Daddy, and could be really strict at times. But he was fair and ever so kind. He had his goofy moments and was extremely playful too, which she loved. He was never angry with her, always calm and collected. Even when she misbehaved, not that that happened often.
She clung to his shirt so tightly, never wanting to let go. Loki had to carefully remove her hand from his shirt just so he could change them into a different position, getting them both under the blanket so he could have her snuggled up next to him. He knew she would fall asleep soon.
‘Daddy.’ She whispered quietly, sounding so vulnerable.
‘Yes, my little one?’ Loki asked, engulfing her small hand in his large one.
‘Can you sing to me?’
Loki smiled. ‘Of course, my sweetling.’
He began singing to her in Asgardian, but he had told her before it was Icelandic. She had no reason not to believe him, especially since he told her he’d grown up there with his parents.
But he had a beautiful voice, she always loved to hear him sing.
She felt so loved as he she drifted off to sleep to the sound of his voice. She faintly remembered a gentle kiss on her forehead just before she fell asleep.
Thor was confused at their interaction, especially as Rosie said nothing at first. Just stared at Loki in utter disbelief.
‘No…’ She shook her head and took a step backwards. ‘You… You don’t get to call me that anymore.’ She said quietly, her voice trembling as tears came to her eyes.
‘Rosie? What’s wrong, did he hurt you?’ Clint asked upon seeing the reaction.
Rosie grabbed the pile of paperwork off the table beside her and she ran off out of the kitchen, with tears falling down her face.
Clint turned to Loki. ‘You’ve got some explaining to do.’ He snapped at him.
‘I have nothing to explain to you, Hawk.’ Loki snarled.
Natasha and Pepper saw Rosie running out of the kitchen in floods of tears, they ran after her into her room. Natasha managed to grab the door before it closed on them.
‘Rosie? Rosie, what’s wrong?’ They both asked as they rushed in to her.
Rosie threw the papers on her bed and she started pacing back and fore, shaking and crying with her arms wrapped around herself. Pepper grabbed her and pulled her down to sit on the bed.
‘Rosie, please speak to us.’ She pleaded with her cousin as Natasha sat at the other side of her.
‘It… It’s him…’ She sobbed.
‘Who? Loki? Did he scare you? I told him not to be an asshole to anyone.’ Natasha said angrily.
‘He… He’s the one. Who I dated before.’ She blurted out, making Pepper and Natasha go silent in shock.
‘But… how?’ Pepper asked.
‘I met him one night in a club. And we dated for eleven months. I was in love with him, utterly and completely. I thought he was with me too. But then he just vanished and never came back one day. Then a few months later, I saw him on the TV… I didn’t tell anyone it was him, because I thought no one would believe me anyway. And what did it matter? It wouldn’t change anything.’ Rosie blurted out between crying.
‘Oh, Rosie. I wish you had told me.’ Pepper pulled her into a hug and cradled her head against her. ‘It’s ok, shhh, shhh. It’s going to be ok.’
Natasha rubbed her back softly. ‘If we had known, we would have warned you he was coming here. I’m so sorry.’
Rosie shook her head and wiped her eyes with her sleeve. ‘No… It’s my fault, I should have told you. I just… it’s a shock to see him face to face.’
Natasha and Pepper nodded in understanding.
They stayed with her for a little while, then when she told them she was ok and was going to take a shower before bed, they left her to it.
But it ended up being the longest shower ever. She kept thinking about Loki and what they had together before.
Kept thinking of when they first met…
Rosie was super nervous when she walked into the BDSM club. But after months of talking herself into it, she finally had the courage to do it.
She didn’t dare tell any of her friends what she was into or what she was doing, perhaps foolish in a way as no one knew where she was. And she was on her own. But she was too embarrassed to tell anyone. Her friends wouldn’t understand.
She relaxed a tiny bit once she was there, noticing other people on their own as well. Getting a few drinks down her helped with her nerves too.
Some of the people she spoke to briefly were really nice. She met a lovely couple at the bar who asked if it was her first time there. They told her if she needed anything to feel free to ask them, not to be shy. That everyone there was really nice and friendly.
There were various demos on that she watched, there was a lot more to some scenes than met the eye. It really made her realise how on sites such as Fetlife and others, it was easy to get sucked into the wanna-be-Dom’s who likely had no idea what they were doing. Or how much safety came into it all.
‘Excuse me, I don’t mean to bother you but I was wondering if you’d like to join me for a drink?’ A beautiful voice came from beside her when one of the demos on aftercare just finished.
Rosie turned and her breath was taken from her as she gazed up at an incredibly tall and handsome man.
‘I… I… Yeah, I would like that, thank you.’ Rosie stammered out, nodding over enthusiastically.
He grinned, showing off his pearly white teeth as he put his hand out towards her. ‘My name is Loki.’ He introduced.
‘I’m Rosie.’ She smiled up at him and put her hand into his. That’s when she noticed his gorgeous hands, so big and he had such long fingers. She blushed hard when he raised her hand up and he kissed the back of it, making her skin tingle like crazy.
‘Pleasure to meet you, Rosie.’ He said charmingly.
Loki gave her his arm and led her over to a free table near the bar. She was really nervous, and Loki could tell. But he soon had her at ease, just chatting away to her calmly and making her laugh almost straight away. She slowly began to relax in his presence.
‘Is this your first time here?’ He asked after buying them both another drink.
‘Is it that obvious?’ She cringed, making him chuckle.
‘Kind of. You did look a bit like a deer in the headlights. But that’s normal for first timers.’ Loki winked at her.
‘So, I’m guessing that means you’ve been here before?’
‘It does.’ He nodded. ‘Not often, it’s probably my fourth visit. Mainly just trying to meet new people, meet anyone that may potentially be interested in a Daddy Dom.’
Rosie’s eyes widened and she suddenly fell shy again as she looked down at her glass and swallowed hard. Loki raised an eyebrow, instantly realising that she was a little. He suspected she was a sub, but hadn’t been sure about the little aspect or not.
Loki leaned forward over the table towards her a little more. ‘Let me take a quick stab in the dark here… But I am presuming that you are a little?’
Her mouth opened and closed again. Then she just opted for nodding in response instead of trusting her voice to actually work.
Loki smiled softly. ‘Nothing to be shy about, sweetheart. That’s why lots of people come to these clubs, to meet their person.’
‘I… I guess so.’ She agreed.
They continued to talk for over an hour, not much about BDSM which Rosie found quite pleasant. He didn’t seem to want to jump straight in so quickly, which in turn made her trust him more and relax.
At the end of the night, Loki handed over a small card with his number on it. ‘There’s absolutely no pressure at all. But I’ve really enjoyed my night with you, Rosie. I would love to take you out on a date, perhaps out for lunch Saturday? But there’s no pressure, I don’t need an answer right now. Just text or call me to let me know. But if I don’t hear from you, that’s ok too. I totally understand.’
Rosie’s heart was racing. Could he get any more considerate? He wasn’t pressuring her at all, not asking for her number. Not even expecting her to contact him if she didn’t want to go on a date with him. Not even needing an answer straight away, what a gentleman.
Loki walked her outside the club and hailed a taxi for her, he even paid in advance for her, not taking no for an answer.
‘I just want to make sure I know you’ll get home safely. And I can’t help it, it’s the protective Daddy in me.’ He shrugged and chuckled, making her giggle shyly.
‘Thank you, Loki.’ She smiled widely at him as she got into the taxi and he closed the door for her once she was in.
He waved her off and she couldn’t stop smiling the whole way home.
Of course, she did text him the following morning to say she would love nothing more than to go on a date with him on Saturday. If that was still what he wanted, too.
Loki replied within a minute, with a time and a place for their first date.
-
‘How DARE you!’ Pepper roared at Loki and launched for him, slapping him across the face. It barely made him flinch, but he clenched his jaw as he glared at her.
Everyone was surprised at Pepper’s outburst.
‘Woah, what did he do?’ Bruce asked.
‘HE is the one that broke my cousin’s heart. She was head over heels in love with you, asshole. Then you just disappeared on her, left her alone without even an explanation. No note, nothing.’ She snarled at him.
Loki narrowed his eyes at her. ‘Not that it’s any of your business, but I did what was right. To protect her. She was better off without me.’
‘You did NOT do what was right. You have no idea what you’ve put her through this past year, how heartbroken she was. Still is!’ Pepper screeched.
Loki faltered. ‘Still is? Did she not find another, she’s a beautiful, incredible woman. How could she not find ano’
‘You are such a fucking idiot!’ Pepper screeched angrily and so wanted to slap him again, but she knew it was pointless.
The guys around him all put their face into their hands.
‘What?’ Loki asked, looking around.
‘That’s a low blow, man. Not even leaving her a note.’ Said Tony.
‘I… I thought I was doing the right thing.’ Loki said, looking at Thor.
Thor nodded. ‘I did not realise that your Rose was this Rosie… But yes, Loki thought he was doing right by her. He was in love with her, adored her. Never shut up about her. But when he discovered his true heritage on a short visit home, he decided not to go back to her. In fear of hurting her.’ Thor explained.
Pepper ran her hands down her face.
‘Well, you failed on that. You probably hurt her more by not at least saying you were over. You have no idea what she’s been through this last year.’ Pepper shook her head in disgust at Loki.
The team all murmured between them and left the room, leaving Loki with Thor.
For the first time in a long time, Thor saw his real brother back. He saw true emotion on his face again, sorrow and guilt.
‘I… I did not mean to hurt her.’ Loki said, still a bit confused. ‘I loved her, Thor… I do love her. I never stopped thinking about her, never loved another.’ He whispered.
Thor sighed and walked over to him, patting his shoulder. ‘I know, brother. I know.’
Loki thought back to the first time she had called him Daddy. How much it made his heart happy that she trusted and wanted him so much…
Rosie and Loki were snuggling on the sofa together, watching some cartoons that she loved. Loki wasn’t overly fond of them, but it made her happy so he always obliged. He was just happy to have her on his lap, comfortable and relaxed in his arms. Where she belonged.
He was lightly stroking her back underneath her top, making her skin tingle. She was in utter heaven, and Loki couldn’t get enough of just simply touching her. He needed touch in some way, whether he was just holding her hand or had the tips of his fingers on her skin, he needed and craved the intimacy with her.
Loki’s fingers trailed a bit too far to her side and up a little, making her squirm and giggle.
‘Daddy, that tickles!’ She laughed and tried to grab his hand to stop him.
But he had already stopped, freezing at what she said. That was the first time she had called him that, even in little space.
The biggest smile spread across his face and he buried his face into her hair and squeezed her tightly to him.
‘Sorry, my sweet little one. I forgot how ticklish you are.’ He purred.
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Insatiable ( Jungkook x Oc) Chapter 5
Pairing : Jeon Jungkook x OC
Rating 18+
Genre : Vampire Au!!!! , DILF! Jungkook ! Bodyguard AU! Babysitter OC! Age difference!!!
Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4
Chapter 5
“Well, this is confusing.”
Namjoon was staring at him like he’d grown an extra head and Jungkook grunted from where he was trying to deadlift the 250lbs barbell, dropping it back down to stare at his friend. He’d never been able to deadlift this much. But then, today everything about him felt different. His senses heightened, vision sharper and just a lot more energy than usual.
“What?” He snapped, slightly annoyed because .... well, he had no idea why he was so annoyed. And that only added to his already foul mood.
“You look like you had a good night. A really good night but you’re also acting like you really need to get laid. So I’m trying to figure out which it is?” Namjoon frowned, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.
Jungkook groaned , grabbing the small towel from the chair and soaking up the sweat dotting the back of his neck. He walked over to the water dispenser in the corner of the gym, pouring himself a glass, tipping it over his head and shaking out of his hair as the water dripped down his face and neck, drenching his sweat soaked tank top even more. .
Somewhere to his right, one of the ladies on the treadmill, tripped, crashing in a heap on the machine and he couldn’t help but smirk. She had been staring at him the entire time.
Jungkook was used to attention. He was used to the stares and the lust and the heightened heart rates he induced . It had been bad, even in his days as a human and now, five centuries later as a powerful vampire , it had only grown.
He was handsome. He was fit and he was a good guy. It was only natural that women wanted him. And he was okay with that. It gave him the luxury of being able to pick and choose, who he wanted in his bed. And he did.
Not that he did it often. With Joowon to care for, Jungkook often went months on end without sex and that was okay. Because the kind of sex he usually had, it was just ...a release. There was nothing intimate or personal about it.
Even with Helena it had been the friendship that had appealed to him.
Helena was ...fun. She liked to sail through the world, doing as she pleased and taking lovers everywhere. No one could keep her in a place for long and no one could ground her. There had been a time when he had thought that he was in love with her but that was just Helena. She made you feel like you couldn’t live without her. Because of how much happiness she imbibed in the moments. Because of how non judgemental and kind she was.
And he loved her. But now , centuries later it was the love of a dear friend.
But with Sera..... it had been something else.
He had a way he did things.
A little kissing , a little foreplay and just a whole lot of fucking with multiple orgasms for everyone involved. He had a quick refractive period and supernatural stamina so of course he was going to take advantage of that.
But none of that had happened last night.
The actual sex had lasted a scant few minutes. He hadn’t even been inside her more than five minutes and yet the memory was seared into his head. The phantom warmth of her still around him and the scent of her still tugging on his senses.
And the taste of her.
Fucking hell.
Jungkook had never fed from someone during sex. He just didn’t because drinking from someone , taking their life essence...it just...it was something incredibly intimate. It was important to him. Jungkook hardly ever fed from humans , opting to visit a blood cafe for a drink or a dispensary for a few blood bags when he needed to feed.
But last night.
“Earth to Jeon Jungkook.” Namjoon’s voice pulled him to the present.
He stared at his oldest, dearest friend.
“I slept with Sera.” His voice cracked on the syllables of her name, his tone dripping with regret and Namjoon stiffened.
“You... what? “ He stared at him in disbelief.
Jungkook groaned.
“Fuck... I drank from her too. “ He buried his face into his hands.
“Jungkook, that’s... “
“It was her first time. “ Jungkook looked up at him, eyes wide and helpless and Namjoon’s jaw came unhinged.
“Are you going to tell me you’re the pope next? Because my heart can’t take it...”
Jungkook groaned.
“I’m such a fucking idiot. It was supposed to be a no strings attached thing. “
Namjoon’s gaze softened.
“Dude, a girl’s first time? Of course she’s going to get attached. Did she like confess?”
Jungkook hesitated.
“No. Actually, she just got dressed and left.” He shrugged.
Namjoon frowned.
“Oh, then that’s good right?”
Jungkook felt a little sick. He remembered how empty his bed had felt, after she’d kissed him and slipped back into her clothes and rushed back to sleep in her own bed. He hadn’t even helped clean her up because his limbs had felt a bit like jelly. He’d been punch drunk with the taste of her, his head swimming and his body thrumming and she had practically skipped out of his room, not a care in the world.
Hadn’t even kissed him good bye.
“Yeah. Good. “ He said hoarsely , head pounding .
Namjoon was staring at him .
“What ?!” Jungkook snapped, foul mood returning with a vengeance.
“Oh my God. “ Namjoon began laughing.
Jungkook stared at him...What the fuck was wrong with Namjoon.
“You’re the one who got attached.” Namjoon’s eyes were wide as saucers, his fingers pointed right in Jungkook’s face.
The younger yelped, stepping back.
“No.. I.. what?!”
“You look so upset that she left you after sex... I’ve seen that kicked puppy look before. You wore that same face when Joowon didn’t cry on his first day at school!! ‘ Isn’t he gonna miss me hyung?” You whined... i remember that fucking face Jeon jungkook!!!”
Namjoon was on the floor now, guffawing and clutching his sides.
Jungkook glared at his friend.
“What the fuck...no i did not!!” He swore.
Namjoon merely continued laughing.
“Oh, the sweet sweet taste of karma. Serves you right Jeon Jungkook, considering the hearts you’ve broken over the years.”
Jungkook glared at his friend.
Namjoon had no fucking idea what he was on about. Him? Catch feelings ?
Like hell.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
He couldn’t find her .
And when he realized why he couldn’t find her, he couldn’t believe it.
“What the fuck do you mean she’s gone on a date?” He snapped at Jimin who gave him an unamused look.
“I’m your hyung, you bastard!” The shorter male yelled and next to him his wife rubbed a soothing hand on his shoulder.
“What Jimin means is that, Yugyeom came by earlier when she was getting changed for dinner...”
“He came into the room when she was getting changed?” Jungkook stared in disbelief, “ What the actual fuck...”
Jimin choked and Somi let out a giggle.
“That’s not what I meant. Sera came back to the room after closing up the daycare and Yugyeom texted her.... that he wanted to pick her up for dinner. She agreed and told me to tell you that she’ll be back at around eleven...”
“Where the hell did they go? I need an address.” Jungkook snapped.
Jimin stared at him like he’d spouted latin.
“what?” He gaped.
Somi held a hand up.
“Yugyeom’s an old friend of ours. He took her out for dinner, that’s all. She’s been out with him before ...Don’t worry Jungkook ssi... She’s perfectly safe with him.” Somi said quickly.
Jungkook merely shook his head, glaring at the pair.
“You should know better than to do this. You know how fucking good she smells to vampires. How could you send her out of the estate without security....in the company of a Kim , no less? I am right here... It’s literally my job to be with her at al times.. Its what I’m paid to do.... ..why didn’t you tell me...” He shook his head.
Jimin and Somi exchanged looks.
“You’re certainly very dedicated to ....your job.” Jimin frowned. Somi meanwhile was holding a hand up and giggling behind it.
God, he couldn’t carry on a conversation with two people who acted like literal children.
He had to go find the Chief.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Jungkook blinked.
Once . Twice.
“I’m sorry sir, could you repeat that?” He said sharply.
Chief Hwang gave him a confused look.
“I said , you can stay back today evening and help me with the accounts Jungkook-ah.I do know that Sera’s going for dinner with Yugyeom and well, I really need help with the balancing . I think the gardener has been playing fast and loose with buying germanium seeds and charging them as Lilies . Is he pocketing the difference or is there something else going on...”
Jungkook, who really couldn’t give two fucks about germaniums or Lilies , merely stared at the patriarch of the clan, trying to decide if the older man was joking because how on earth was he supposed to just....
“Let her go on the date alone? Without me?” He asked, his tone screaming that he wasn’t okay with that.
At all.
Chief Hwang hummed.
“Yes of course... I’ve known the boy for two centuries. He’s a good man. “
“You’ve known me for five centuries.” Jungkook reminded him , instinctively.
And then he blinked because why on earth had he said that?
Chief Hwang had an amused look on his face.
“Yes of course. And you’re a very fine young man as well, Jungkook. Too bad you think Sera is like a daughter to you....”
Wait.
What?
Was the older man teasing him? Jungkook could’ve sworn he saw a hint of mischief in the vampire’s eyes.
“Don’t you?” Chief Hwang asked.
“Sir?”
“Don’t you think of her as a daughter, Jungkook-ah.? Isn’t that what you told her?”
Jungkook had the sudden terrible feeling that Sera told her father everything.
“Uh..it was just an expression sir. She’s a good ... friend.” He finished.
Chief Hwang hummed thoughtfully.
“I see. Well, Yugyeom thinks she would make a wonderful mate. “ He shrugged.
Jungkook felt his fists clench.
“I still think I should be there sir... Just to... make sure she’s safe. It’s kind of my job.” He said gruffly.
“Are you sure? Germaniums and Lilies are vastly different and for the gardener to-”
“Sir to be very honest I don’t really care about the damn flowers. Sera needs to be safe and I’m not letting anyone hurt her on my watch. So I’d really appreciate if you tell me where she is....” Jungkook said sharply. His heart was pounding.
Chief Hwang gave him a thoughtful glance, his lips quirking up in a smile.
“ Looks like I’ll be planning a wedding after all.” He chuckled thoughtfully and Jungkook frowned, confused.
“Sir?”
“Let me put you out of your misery, Jungkook ah... She’s having dinner at the Hyatt Resort.... The private conference room on the seventh floor. Yugyeom reserved it for her.” The older man glanced at his watch and smiled, “ There’s a fire work show in exactly half an hour. Sera loves those.... If you leave right now, you can interrupt them right on time. “
Jungkook blushed , blood rushing to his face.
“Sir.. I’m not.. I don’t...want to interrupt.” God, he sounded fake to his own ears.
Chief Hwang waved him off with a laugh. .
“Go on go on..And maybe buy me some patbingsu on your way back..!! “
Jungkook stared.
“Uh yes sir. “
“Good. Close the door on your way out, son.”
Jungkook closed the door, trying to ignore the way warmth flooded his heart at the way the man had addressed him.
Son.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
AUTHOR’S nOTE : a short chapter because I wanted to write something from Jungkook’s point of you...also Chief Hwang playing cupid is my favorite thing ever...
@ladyartemesia @veronawrites @alpaca1612 @bonyg @unseejuice21 @sppvjj @ggukkieland @tae-by-tae @blr1004 @yoongichild @stussyjeon @jellybearo @sumzysworld @carolsummerlove
@bunniechoon
@preciouschimine
Please come scream with me...
#jungkook#jungkook fics#jungkook smut#jungkook fanfic#jungkook vampire au#bts vampire au#bts fics#bts smut#bts fanfics
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𝓻𝓸𝓼𝓲𝓮 𝓪𝓷𝓭 𝓲 ❁ 𝓫𝓾𝓬𝓴𝔂 𝓫𝓪𝓻𝓷𝓮𝓼
chapter eleven • a/n: baby time oh how I regret making reader pregnant and having to write this because it turned out shit the amount of times I deleted and rewrote this..👶 • wordcount: 1.4k • warnings: pregnancy, kids, labor, nothing else major
summary
going through rough years after losing your husband, you try to raise your daughter the best you can. With the help from the wilson's you make the best of it but the road is bumpy when sam introduces you to his friend.
masterlist - chapter ten - chapter twelve
It blows his mind more than anything or anyone has ever done. The thought alone makes his palms sweaty, his head spin and his heart drop. Making him excited and terrified, giddy and scared, happy and relieved, all at once.
Within a couple of hours, he'd finally meet his son, his own flesh and blood, his mini me– a child he made with the love of his life. His, yours, a family.
Bucky is ready, or at least he thinks. He's ready to be a real dad, let it all crash over him like a tidal wave. He's read more books in the past few weeks than he can count on his fingers, scrolled through article after article on his phone, watched those silly shows on tv, read the app on his phone like the newspaper every morning; size, weight, height and the development of his son, your body and all the possible aches and pains– he knew it all; he's ready and even if the thought changes with the hours, he knows he'll be alright with you by his side.
After 40 weeks and 3 days, Bucky's ready to meet baby Barnes.
The white numbers on the microwave display tell him it's 5:04, the moon slowly setting to make room for the sun; the house is silent, safe for the clock ticking and the coffee pot brewing. The smell of coffee filling his nostrils as he breathes in deeply. He hasn't slept, maybe closed his eyes for an hour or two; anxious feelings running through his veins ever since the two of you dropped off Rosie at a friend's house yesterday. Everything becoming more real with the minute.
He's going to have his own kid and he can't wait.
He can't wait for you to live without the hassle, spend your days normally instead of laying in bed for the last few weeks, unable to do anything other than waddle around the house. Tension running high, arguments arising about nothing only to end in yet another breakdown from your side– bucky would take it all, carry it all if it meant it would relieve in some sort of way and still, he couldn't be more in love with you.
Yes, he's ready for the next chapter in his life, a chapter he never thought would be written for him.
Two mugs grabbed from the cabinet above his head hit the marble countertop making bucky wince and in one swift motion fills them with the hot brew. Yawning once, Bucky grabs the cups each in one hand, socked feet dragging him out of the kitchen and into the hallway. Steadying his grip on the mugs as he slowly and without a sound makes his way upstairs. The soft light coming through the ajar door and the muffled voices coming from the tv drawing him in.
Opening the door further with his foot, his eyes land on your bare, big baby bump before averting them up to meet a pair of sleep filled eyes. Seated on the edge of the bed, the grabby hand motion and the deep sigh passing your lips makes him step into the room further, faster. Wordlessly, Bucky places the two cups on your bedside table and moves back to stand in front of you, both hands in yours– a groan pushing past your lips as he helps you out of bed and on your feet.
"You okay?" Bucky all but whispers and places a quick kiss on your temple.
You humm "still using my bladder as a damn trampoline."
Placing another kiss where he left one seconds ago, Bucky chuckles softly and let's go of your hands, watching you as you waddle your way to the ensuite. A morning routine since a week or three; sleeping in for as long as possible, breakfast serves in bed, a shower together because god, you weren't to be trusted with that bump of yours in a slippery shower and bucky would've let you shower along did you not miss the last step of the stair a while back and landed on your butt– nothing too bad but it caused heart palpitations with the dad to be.
"Buck," Your voice louder than before echoes from the bathroom "I can't get these socks off."
Knitting his brows together, he takes a quick sip of his coffee "since when do you take your socks off when using the toilet?"
"I've already done that– I'm not going to shower with my socks on you idiot." You groan
Bucky chuckles and takes another sip from his mug before walking towards the ensuite himself, popping his head in. A frustrated you sitting on the edge of the bathtub in defeat.
"I made coffee." Bucky states
"And I want to shower." You deadpan back "and because it's still here, I'm going to use this bump as an excuse to get what I want."
Laughing, bucky steps further into the bathroom "and you say I spoil that rascal of ours."
"Hey, you knew what you signed up for. Sealed the deal when you put this baby in me– not getting rid of us anytime soon." You chuckle back tiredly and let the men standing in front of you help you out once again.
"Not planning on getting rid of you either."
It's the surprisingly cozy delivery room, the extremely nice nurses, doctor, the peace and serenity you radiate and the heartbeat of his son that calms Bucky down and keeps him grounded.
He can't freak out, at least not show it, he needs to be here for you, calm you down, guide you through the pain– surprisingly doing all the right things; things coming naturally– like one of his friends reassured him during a men's night out weeks ago.
The tv hanging on the wall across the room playing another rerun of friends and together with the beeping of machines and a heartbeat; creating a nice background noise– you've been her for a couple of hours with little to no progress, no more than 2 cm dilated and contractions now and then; the doses to induce it all upped for a second time an hour ago and a drug that eased the pain, giving you time for a good sleep before the hard work: giving bucky a breather too.
His gaze lands on your sleeping figure on the bed next to him, hooked up on machines. He rubs his thumb over the back of your hand, refusing to let go; in his other hand his phone, thumb ghosting over the send button.
'letting you know y/n is in labor and our son will be born soon, seemed appropriate to tell.'
Despite it all, it did feel right to send sam this message; he's been a big part of his and your life. Treated Rosie like one of his own, Bucky would like to see it happen to his son but even if Sam stayed miles away from him and his little family, Bucky would be fine with that either. He doesn't need sam to tell him how to live his life after all but it sure would've been nice to ask him for some 'dad advice' and 'how to dad'
Bucky hits send and not expecting anything back, locks his phone and places it on the bedside table, nearly knocking over the glass jug with ice water- gaze landing back on you to make sure he didn't wake you and when he sees he didn't, bucky can't help but to lean back in his chair and close his own eyes for a minute..or five
He doesn't quite know how long he's had his eyes closed for, definitely dozed off but the sudden loss of weight in his hand and a now familiar voice reaching his ears; bucky sits up straight and is met with the sight of the doctor standing at the end of the bed in a conversation with you.
He'd be lying if he said he knew and understands what it's about or what it all meant– he's read a lot but nothing like this.
"We'll up the dose once more– if it doesn't progress after that, I want to break your water." Nodding between you and bucky, the doctor smiles "babies vitals are looking good but if we can speed up-"
"That'll be great." You breath out, cutting the woman off.
Taglist: @farfromshawn @nicollettemarie @wooya1224 @felicityofbakerstreet @agentmstark @sierrax023 @lilyevanswhore @qhbr2013 @buckybarnesobsessed @themaddies-obx @aloserwithoutacause @aanngie @sebby-staan @sweetth1ng @starrystarkey93 @libidinexx @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @gasly-kvyat @brown-bi-beautiful @peter-laufeyson @im-squished @meshlababy @lindseyrae20 @cb97skies @qwccrr @ssprayberrythings @yougottalovefandoms @jbcalway @realgaytrash @natyvwe @poetryazenth @winterberryfox @ahahafudge
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x female reader#bucky x you#bucky barnes imagine#bucky barnes fanfic#james bucky barnes#rosie and i
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Pride and Prejudice (Chapter 5)
Summary: Your father is Lucius Malfoy’s cousin, and after the war, it was really difficult for you to find a job because of your last name. So your mother and Mrs. Weasley came up with a crazy idea. A fake marriage between you and Fred Weasley.
In this chapter: It’s already the last month of your fake marriage. Is all of this really going to end?
Pairing: Fred Weasley X Malfoy!Fem!Reader
Warnings: angst, misunderstanding, insecurity, mean relatives, reader being jealous?
Word Count: 2.5k
A/N: I apologize for not updating for so long cuz I was feeling burnt out. And I apologize in advance for this chapter, but since it’s Pride and Prejudice themed, I had to include a part like this afghjldfk Also, I may or may not named one of the characters after a Pride and Prejudice character:)
Pictures are from Pinterest. Credit goes to the original owners.
Please do NOT repost or translate my work on any platform! Thank you! Reblogs and comments are always welcome:)
Pride and Prejudice Series Masterlist
Sometimes you would wonder what would it be like if you and Fred were friends when you were still in Hogwarts. And as your mind wandered through these imaginary scenarios, you would also daydream about what would it be like if you went to the Yule Ball with him. But regardless, just being in this moment, dancing with him to your favorite love song, was magical enough.
You were invited to Fred’s cousin’s wedding, along with the other Weasleys. Playing the character of Fred’s wife for almost eleven months now made you a regular guest to all kinds of the Weasley family gatherings.
As the music played and the guests joining the bride and groom on the dance floor, you and Fred decided to join, too.
“I’m definitely playing this song at my own wedding!” you were excited when your favorite love song started playing.
“And I’m definitely play something livelier,” Fred smiled as he commented.
“Glad we’re not having the same wedding then,” you glared at him, trying hard not to step on his foot. “I have a feeling our idea of an ideal wedding would be completely different.”
“So what is your ideal wedding?” Fred asked. You looked up at him and realized he looked sincere.
“I haven’t really thought about it, but a small wedding with my close family and friends would be nice,” you answered. You left out one detail. All you could think of now was what would it be like if you could really marry Fred. But of course, you wouldn’t tell him that, “I’m assuming yours would be something more exciting.”
“Of course!” If you paid attention, you would notice the blush climbing up on Fred’s cheeks, but you were too flustered by your own daydreams.
“Let me guess, someone would probably turn into a canary.”
“Very likely,” he replied while twirling you around with the music, “and that someone is probably you!”
You laughed as you twirled. You weren’t paying close attention to your steps, and your right foot tripped your left foot. But you landed in Fred’s arm.
You looked up at him as your heartbeat started to pick up. Your lips were only inches away now that you could already feel his breath brushing lightly against your lips.
You didn’t know how long has passed as you two both froze on the spot. Just a little bit closer and your lips would be pressing together. You never knew you wanted this kiss so desperately until now, and the fact that this was already the last month of your one-year marriage contract made it worse. You would be lying if you say you have never fantasized about Fred reciprocating your feelings, and this fake marriage could turn into a real one by the end of the year.
“Fred?” A voice interrupted this moment and your daydream.
Fred pulled away awkwardly with the blush still tainting his cheeks. “Mrs. Collins? Maureen?” You turned and saw the owner of the voice was an older woman and beside her was a beautiful younger woman, who’s about your age.
“Freddie! I haven’t seen you in ages!” Mrs. Collins pulled Fred into a hug, and when she finally let go of him, her eyes turned to look at you.
“Oh, Mrs. Collins, this is Y/N.”
You put on a polite smile and held out your hand, “Hi, I’m Y/N-”
“Malfoy!” she cut you off, without acknowledging your hand, “I’ve heard that Freddie married a Malfoy. How interesting! How did you two meet?”
The way she said “Malfoy” and her question stung you. From past experiences, you knew this conversation is probably not going to end well. “Our parents are actually old friends, so we met when we were still little,” you answered, hands fidgeting and not looking at Mrs. Collins.
“What a coincidence! Cause Maureen and Fred have also known each other since they were kids, isn’t that right, Freddie?”
“Yea,” Fred smiled, not noticing how your expression froze in an awkward state, “Oh, Y/N, this is Maureen. We used to be friends when we were kids until she transferred to Beauxbatons.”
“Hey, it wasn’t like I had a choice!” She slapped on Fred’s arm, causing Fred to laugh while pretending to be hurt.
Watching them interact so naturally, you suddenly felt like you were interrupting something. A horrible feeling crept up in your mind. What if there’s already someone in Fred’s life, yet you still forced him to sign this stupid marriage contract?
“And Maureen’s an interior designer now! So if your little shop needs a makeover, I’m sure Maureen’s willing to help,” Mrs. Collins suggested. Her tone and expression all reminded you of your mum when she tried to set you and Fred up.
“Oh right! Fred,” Mrs. Collins continued, “come say hi to the rest of the family! I’m sure they all missed you a lot.”
“I would love to, but Y/N...” Fred looked at you. You couldn’t figure out what his expression meant? Was this an excuse because he didn’t want to go? Or did he want to go?
You didn’t know why insecurity started to cloud your brain. Growing up, you always thought you’re proud most of the time, but this was not the case when it comes to your last name. You knew you shouldn’t feel ashamed of it. The history and crime this name carried have nothing to do with you. And you knew feeling ashamed of it gives it power over you, but all you could do was retreating to your shell whenever someone brought up your last name.
So your final decision was, “It’s okay, you can go. I’ll go find Ginny.”
“Great!” Mrs. Collins started dragging Fred to her family’s table. Fred was still looking at you, but then you heard Mrs. Collins say, “Don’t worry about Y/N! I know she probably wouldn’t want anything to do with our sort of people, anyway.”
Your stomach sank. What did she mean by “our sort of people”? And more importantly, what did being your sort of people imply?
A few months ago, you thought changing your last name by marriage could solve everything. But the cruel fact was that it changed nothing.
And maybe it was your insecurity talking, but how could Fred not say anything when Mrs. Collins made such a comment? Did he not understand what she meant? Or did he...agree with her?
After they disappeared in the crowd, you immediately apparate back to the apartment like you were fleeing a monster from your nightmare. That was the only logical move you could think of at that time.
~
“Fred,” you kicked off your heels after you got back to the apartment from work and began rambling on about your day, “you won’t believe what happened today. I-” But the words choked in your throat when you saw another person in the kitchen. You recognized it was Maureen Collins from the wedding a week ago.
You thought you already forgot about what Mrs. Collins said to you at the wedding, but those words immediately rushed back when you saw Maureen again.
“Oh, Y/N, you’re back!” Fred exclaimed, and he noticed the box in your hand, “Is that my favorite pie!”
“Yea, I didn’t know...” It was supposed to be a surprise, but now it just felt extra when it seemed like they were already cooking a meal.
“Oh, Y/N, I’m sorry we didn’t tell you earlier. This was really last-minute,” Maureen explained.
“Yea, Maureen was here to help with the makeover of the shop, and it’s almost dinner time when we were done, so we thought-”
“No worries,” you cut Fred off before he could finish with the explanation. You didn’t like the way he sounded. It almost made you feel like you were a party pooper.
“We can just eat the pie tomorrow!” You tried to put on a smile when you shoved the pie into the fridge.
“Brilliant! All sorted now! Y/N, come help! Dinner would be ready faster if we had three people cooking.”
“Yea,” Maureen chuckled, “Fred was just talking about the first time you two tried to cook together. It must be difficult having to cook with an absolute idiot, let alone being forced to live with him for one year.”
Your heart sank. Fred told her that the marriage is fake? According to your contract, he shouldn’t have told anyone, unless...
Watching Maureen cooking and laughing with Fred, your mind just couldn’t shake off the images of her living here and being his real wife. You had to admit that you didn’t like these images, but why should you care if someone else is going to live here instead of you. Your mum forced you to live here anyway, and now you could finally go home.
Home. You sighed as the image of home appeared in your mind. And you finally admitted that for the past few months, you also considered this apartment your home.
But you put on the contract yourself stating that you both could date whoever you like during this fake marriage, and you had no business in interfering with Fred and Maureen’s relationship now.
So you picked up your jacket again, “Actually, I’m having dinner with my friend tonight-”
“But I thought you were planning to eat at home,” Fred pointed at the fridge, referring to the pie.
“Oh, that’s for tomorrow,” you lied, even though you knew your excuses didn’t match with what you just said a few minutes ago. You panicked, so you proceeded to say something that you never thought you would say, “Plus, I need to give you two space.” You even said it with a wink, covering for the fact that you panicked, and you just rushed out the door before anyone could say anything.
~
You went back to your parents’ house for the night and only returned to the apartment the next morning. Knowing the exact time when Fred would usually go downstairs to the joke shop, you successfully apparated into the apartment without bumping into anyone. You just wanted to avoid seeing him.
You decided to start packing up. There are only less than two weeks left, and you didn’t want to occupy other people’s home for longer than you needed. Your pride demanded a graceful exit.
You knew it would be much easier and quicker if you used magic. Just by a flick of your wand, everything would be packed. It would be so clean like you’ve never been here before, but somehow, you just wanted to take your time with it.
And it was until you started packing when you realized how attached you were to this little apartment. One year wasn’t that long, just like what you said at the beginning of all this, but every corner of this apartment had trails of you living here and your memories.
It was just a contract, you tried to convince yourself, and now the time’s up. But it still pained you to remove your every trail. You realized you were not only removing your existence from this apartment but also Fred Weasley’s life.
“Y/N?” You were so busy going down memory lane that you didn’t notice the series of footsteps coming upstairs. You turned and saw Fred, who looked very confused now as he glanced around and saw the packed boxes. “What are you doing?”
“Just packing up,” you tried to say it as indifferently as possible, “there are only two weeks left, so I thought I should probably start moving my stuff away.”
“Oh,” Fred paused for a moment before the corners of his mouth twitched into an awkward smile, “guess you’re finally free.”
“Yea, and so are you,” you tried to force a laugh, maybe he’s always waiting for this moment, the moment that he’s finally free, “I’ll move back to my parents’ house this week so that the divorce would look more realistic.”
His mouth opened, and you could tell that he was trying to say something. And for a second, you thought maybe he’s trying to think of a way to stop you. To say that he didn’t want you to leave.
But all he said was, “Okay.”
~
It was only around 6:30 am when you woke up. There were too many things on your mind that you couldn’t even enjoy staying asleep at ease. It was your last night here, after all.
Fred was still asleep with both his arm and leg on top of you. He’s an obnoxious sleeper, but you didn’t mind.
You snuggled closer to him as your mind went through the nights that he comforted you when you couldn’t sleep, the sleepless nights that you would chat and laugh with so much ease, and the mornings when you woke with your limbs tangled together. It all felt like a dream, and maybe now it’s time to wake up.
But before you do that, before you had to exit from his life, you just wanted to stay in this moment and stay in his arms for a little longer. You closed your eyes as you took in that familiar cinnamon scent and his cologne. Let’s just dream for a little longer.
~
Fred woke up with the other side of the bed empty. In a haze of sleepiness, he thought you just went to the bathroom. You would always come back to bed and try to squeeze in a few minutes of sleep before finally getting up and getting ready. But you didn’t come back today.
In fact, the apartment was awfully quiet today. He couldn't hear your footsteps rushing in and out of the bedroom to get ready for work. And he didn't hear you yelling things like "Did you see my keys?" or "FRED! Where did my apple juice go??"
Fred got up and tried to search for you in the living room, only to realize that most of your stuff was already gone. He collapsed on the nearby couch, not sure if he was still tired or feeling empty that you were gone.
How could you just walk away so easily? How could you just pull away from all of this almost like nothing ever happened? More importantly, how could you tease him about Maureen like it didn’t matter at all to you? And here he thought you two had great chemistry.
But without that and the contract of being fake husband and wife, Fred was confident that he could say you became friends. Even if you didn’t, at least you were roommates for a year, and that should induce some sort of emotion too.
But no, you just walked away, and all he could do was just getting used to not having you in his life anymore.
(to be continued.)
~
series taglist: @ifilosemyselfagain @theweasleytwinsgirl @bookworm06 @unabashedbookscollector @txtdreamss @sagittarius-flowerchild @rsheridan @ovrwd @anywherebuthere @allaroundaddict @jeminila @secretsofageek @magical-spit @freddieweasleyswife @lilypad-55449 @hufflepuffzutara @honey-honey-5644 @kyloren-peterparker @treblebeth @kyloren-peterparker @fred-sux @rodrickmalfoy @liliputbahn @its-yasbxtch @daydreamgirl8 @305weasley @awritingtree (message me if you want to be added or removed!)
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#fred weasley#fred weasley x reader#weasley twins#fred weasley imagine#fred weasley fanfic#fred weasley fanfiction#fred weasley fic#fred weasley series#fred weasley x malfoy!reader#harry potter fanfic#harry potter fanfiction
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Ryuu to Sobakasu no Hime (Belle) Novel | English Translation | Chapter 3
**This is a machine translation. I put it together by extracting text page-by-page from a .pdf version of the Japanese novel, and running it through Google translate. I have only minorly edited some of the more confusing lines to make it more read-able. It is still a very rough translation, but it’s good enough to understand what’s going on. If there is anyone out there who wants to properly translate the novel, I am more than happy to edit it, if you’ll contact me.**
———————————————
Chapter 3: Memory
"Mother."
"What is it, Suzu?"
When I called, my mother turned around and replied.
Eleven years ago. The house was still new. There was no garage yet, and potted flowers were lined up all over the garden. "Do not cut my hair."
I told her that and ran down the slope in front of my house. Mom walked down the stairs opposite her, resting her hand on her waist and waiting. I ran away in the opposite direction, bouncing, saying that I would never let my hair be cut. But I was taken back without a hitch. She was seated on a bench in the garden and dressed in a haircut cape. “I’m going to make you look cute, Suzu.” After cutting my hair, I don't like the tingling of my hair. She shook her legs and sharpened her lips. But when she held the scissors without hesitation, she cut my hair all at once. "Because you’re going to be an elementary school student," I hope the hair on both sides doesn't stick to my shoulders. The bangs were far above the eyebrows. Even when I went to school, my neck was tingling for a while.
I played a lot with my mother. I took a sumo wrestling on the lawn of the riverbed in the evening. I pushed her by force and my mother rolled on the grass. I won, I laughed happily. Mother also laughed. I asked why? Won’t she cry if she loses? Mom shook her head. “I'm glad that the weak Suzu has become stronger.” Dad was laughing while lying on the grass. My mother often made salted seared meat. She lightly sprinkles salt and roasts the bonito stabbed on a gold skewer from her lenticel over an open flame on the stove. I was staring from the top of the chair. Since the fat drips, the microwave oven will not get dirty if you bake it while sucking it with cooking paper. When it gets burnt, dip it in ice water to cool it, and then drain it. It was a style. So as a kid, I had a hard time holding a thick piece of salted meat with chopsticks, and I had a hard time putting it in my mouth. Mom was waiting for dad's return, holding a mug and watching my struggle.
My dad was a salaryman at that time, and he wore a tie and went out to the city every day. Perhaps because of that, we had some money in our house in the old days. Mother bought a state-of-the-art smartphone at the time. I decided to try out the performance of the on-board camera, and on dad's lap, I pointed my smartphone at my mom. I asked dad to help put mom in the frame and pressed the shutter. She is dressed in white.
The smiling mother, she was beautiful. The photo of her was printed on paper and is still at the house. I was a cheerful child running around, unlike now. I definitely liked playing outside rather than inside the house. If there were trees, I climbed, if there were leaves, I tore them, and if there were insects, I chased them. But it didn't burn in the sun. I must have been such a constitution. Instead, my face is freckled.
I was often injured. My knee was also full of scratches. In the woods, on the riverbed, on the slope in front of my house, I often stumbled and fell. My mother ran up in a hurry and she hugged me tightly, crying in pain. Mysteriously, it hurts somewhere. That's when I was happy. I don't know how many times I fell because I ran around vigorously and wanted mother to hug me. Every time mother rushed in as if it was a big deal for her daughter and worried. Every day was like summer vacation. I clung to mother doing the laundry and cleaning and played. After lunch, she opened the tatami mat, laid a summer futon on the tatami mats, and we took a nap together. The smoke of the mosquito coil was rising slowly. When I woke up, most of the time, I couldn't see my mother sleeping next to me, and she was busy doing housework. In retrospect, she never been told me that she is busy. She was always with me when I asked for it. Since my house was in the mountains, I rarely went out to eat somewhere, and instead my mother cooked any kind of food. One day she saw it in a picture book, and she said she wanted to eat yakitori. She had never eaten it before. My mother made yakitori by sticking chicken on skewers one by one. For the first time in my life, I saw yakitori with the naked eye. I didn't know how to eat it, so I couldn't do well by chewing the meat and removing it from the skewers. Dad and mom were staring at me. Never missing what her daughter experiences for the first time in her life. The place where we, who live in the mountains, go out to play is not an amusement park or a shopping mall, but a campsite further in the mountains from our house.
On a sunny summer day, my mom and I wore a wide-brimmed hat and crossed the subsidence bridge. Dad was carrying a lot of camping equipment. The water crystal pool in the depths of the Yasui Valley was a breathtaking blue color even for us living in the area. The water is so transparent that you can clearly see your shadow on the bottom of the river. I feel a little scared as if I were floating in the air. My mother was an advanced swimmer. She boasted that her mother, who was once a local kid, swam like a kappa every day in the summer. She knew all about the fun of the river. At the same time, she never let her swim in dangerous places on dangerous days. Mom wraps around me, floating. She dived into the water to show her off her skills. Still picked up by her, I became anxious and called out. “Mom, don't go.” But mom, she swam in the blue water, as if she couldn't hear me.
One evening, I was playing with my mother's smartphone and saw a strange app. I put it on. When you launch the app, you'll see white and black horizontal stripes lined up. I pointed to what this was and asked my dad who was next to me. Dad looked it and twisted his neck, calling mother, who was preparing dinner. After dinner, mother's hand fixed the smartphone I was holding vertically. I laid it down and found it to be a piano keyboard. As prompted, I pressed one of the keys. There was a "do" sound. I looked at my mother's face. My mother also saw my face, saying that she had come out. It's mom’s music production app. Only then did I look around my mother's room and notice. Old records, cassette tapes, and CDs are lined up on the shelves to the end. And if you set them on a record player or cassette deck and pass them through an amplifier, music will be played from the left and right speakers. The collection was a brilliant one that accurately captured the main points of the history of classical, jazz and rock. I didn’t know at the time, the value and meaning of such a lineup being packed in a room at the end of the world.
In that room, I pressed the keys of the app one after another and recorded. When played, each sound sounds in the order in which they are arranged. Even if you enter an insane scale, it will play back in a lawful manner. I was so happy that I bounced on my chair. My mother was laughing too. Warm incandescent light was illuminating us. After that, I was crazy about this app. I had my mother lend me a smartphone and I was playing around with it day, night and morning. The operation was intuitive and easy to use. There were words that I couldn’t read because it wasn’t a children's app. And there were many functions I didn't understand. But I was absorbed in that kind of thing. I was completely absorbed in the exciting new experience of writing songs. I composed a number of songs and previewed them in front of my mother. The mother who finished listening gave me advice in short words each time. If you do xxx, it will be better, or the trick is to do xxx. She sometimes took out some of the records in the collection and listened to them for reference. My mother is neither a musician nor a composer.
I think each piece of advice is accurate even if I look back on it now. Over and over again, she listened to my melody, and she said she noticed something, and she sang herself to make sure it was. When I asked, she said it wasn't bad. She said she was smirking at me as she said. I put the sound in a place that I wouldn't normally put it. I'm sure this song was a failure, and all the work I've done so far will be ruined. But as it gradually takes shape, it seems strangely cohesive, she said. I felt as happy as I wanted to. I'm sure it's my parents' favor, but even if my mother added, I was happy. For me, I'm not making it with the intention of letting someone else listen to it. It would have been nice if only my mother could listen to it. My mother sings along with the song I typed in. Take the tempo with her right hand and sing gently. The voice of mother, who was also a member of the chorus made by her friends, echoed and was transparent.
She listened to my weird songs many times. I was happy and sang along with it. Anyway, it’s a song that is as nice as my mother.
I couldn't. Happy memories of me and mother suddenly end here. And that August has come. After this, all I have is a painful, painful memory. The voice of a little girl crying and crying echoed in the riverbank. A girl was left alone on a sandbar. Is she 4 or 5 years old? She looked smaller than I was. It was so sunny just a while ago, but I noticed it wasn't a blue sky, and it was covered with overcast clouds. The beautiful and calm river was cloudy, flooded, driftwood-filled, and surprisingly fast. I can imagine that it is raining heavily upstream. Before this happened, there were people happily making noise on the opposite bank when the flow was still transparent. They are now staring at the girl on this shore. She wore colorful outdoor clothing that made it easy to see that she probably came from the city, not a local. The girls' clothes were also bright colors that I had never seen. Why did people from the city overlook the girls' flashy colored clothes? Why did she forget her existence and she came back to this shore? What to do with friends, their families, and those who enjoyed fishing and canoeing on the riverbanks.
It seemed that she couldn't do anything, and she had no choice but to stand and look like a stick. It's no wonder you're standing. The violent flow of the river separated the girl from the people. Everyone realized that it couldn't be helped. One of the adults was talking to someone on his cell phone. However, everyone can see that where the girl is, is gradually narrowing. Everyone is aware that it is very unlikely that the rescue team will arrive in time. Therefore, I have no choice but to stand up without being able to do anything. Is it just listening to the girl's crying as it is? At that time, someone picked up the red life jacket beside the canoe.
I went forward while staring at the girl. She was a mother. Mommy, and I hurriedly clung to the hem of her mother's clothes. She realized that what her mother was trying to do was too dangerous. She wouldn't have been anxious. She screamed and pulled hard, trying not to let her go. Mom crouched down and squeezed my hand, and she told me something. At that time I can't remember what mother said. Maybe I was screaming and not ready to hear the words. Mom stood up to shake off my chasing and ran, locking the buckle on her life jacket. I fell down on a stone in the riverbank trying to chase her. Still, I got up and shouted at mother's back. Don't go. I think mom didn’t hear my words. While checking the girl's whereabouts, I went around the river, went into the water, and got in the stream to help. It started to rain.
How long has it passed since then? Suddenly the surroundings became noisy. The girl was rescued from the river. Adults are pulling the soaked and tired girl out of the river. I was staring at while getting wet in the rain. People running up. A mixture of joyful voices and crying voices. Are you okay? Open your eyes. I'm glad I was saved ... The girl was wearing the same red life jacket that her mother wore. At that moment, I understood at once what was happening. Mom isn’t here.
"Mother ..... Mother .....!"
I looked left and right, searching for her.
Not anywhere.
"Mother ...!"
In the distance, I heard an ambulance siren. The girl was wrapped in a blanket.
Carried by many adults, she leaves the riverbank. Everyone is crazy about it and realizes that my mom isn't there.
She isn't.
"Mom!" Only I raised my voice and kept calling. Many times. Many times. Many times. I don't remember much after that. When I heard that my mother was found all the way down the river, it seemed like a lie. It wasn't long before I realized that the mug that mother was using was missing. Dad put a picture of mother, which he took someday, in a picture frame and put it in a corner of the kitchen. He had to add flowers every day next to it. Neighbors bothered to talk to me every time I met them on the road, listened to me in a friendly way, and encouraged me with tears. Meanwhile, the Internet was flooded with anonymous posts about the accident.
"It's a suicide act to jump into a river flooded by rain"
"It seems that she was confident in swimming, but it's different from the pool."
《It is irresponsible for my child to help someone else's child and die》
《If there is an accident, playing in the river will be a nuisance and annoying》
《Because helping people is a good person, this is what happens》
The person who wrote it probably didn't know anything about the actual situation, and the day after he wrote it, he probably forgot what he wrote. However, the person who wrote it keeps sticking in my chest forever. Immediately after the accident, an acquaintance told me with resentment that it was terrible when I saw this. In front of these words, I was too young to understand all the meanings. However, as I grew up and became able to understand the meaning of the words accurately, I continued to suffer from the unconscious malice contained in them. Losing mother.
How should I pass on these writings as a bereaved family, even though I still can't accept them, as if the mother who helped me was all bad?
Aside from me, my mother just smiled in the picture frame in the kitchen. From that accident, I think something has changed decisively from what I used to be. One evening, in mother's room, where dust began to build up, I stood on her chair, hoping to return to her happy memories. And I sang the song I sang with mother. But when I started singing, I realized I couldn't sing at all. My voice became stuck in the back of my throat and couldn't get out of my mouth. I was confused. Something in my heart was suppressing me from singing. Why can't I sing? Tears came out.
Hey mom. Why can't I sing?
It was clear that the reason why singing was so fun and necessary was because my mother listened to it.
However, just because you can't sing... You don't have to worry about anything. Even if you can't sing, no one will blame you. Life just goes on. I went to a local junior high school. The jumper skirt uniform was stuffy. Many of the elementary school classmates went to the town as they went on to school, and there were not half of the students remaining in the local area, so even in junior high school, it became a compound class. Therefore, the chorus practice was accompanied by the vice-principal teacher, and it was decided to sing in all grades. There were three people in all grades. Because there were only three people, I quickly realized that I was just lip-synching without singing. I was asked why I didn't sing, but I didn't say anything. I thought they would get angry, but they didn't get angry. It means that only I can visit from the next practice.
I sat alone in a corner of the music class and watched everyone practice. I may have looked like a lethargic girl who was just silent. But inside that, there are things that can't be translated into words.
I think it was swirling. When I left school and returned home, I irresistibly entered mother's room in the twilight. The twilight light was shining through the window. Cardboard boxes containing tableware and seasonal home appliances that are no longer in use are piled up on the table. It was completely turned into a storeroom. It's been many years since then. It has passed. I listened to the large number of records there, one by one from the edge of the shelf. Days, days, days. By listening earnestly, I managed to calm my rough feelings. But one day, there was a moment when I thought I couldn't bear it anymore. Upon returning, I entered my mother's room, sat down in front of the keyboard, quickly opened the report sheet, and began to write fiercely with a pen to spit out the incomprehensible feelings in my chest. I was almost suffocating if I didn't spit it out. I turned over the paper and continued to write forever. -Why did mother leave me in the river? Why did she choose to help the child who she didn't even know her name rather than live with me? Why am I alone? Why, why, why – I added paper, supplemented with post-it notes, and wrote long, long lyrics. The scale that springs up is notated long and long. Those that were neither were spit out as pictures. It was a swirl of many kinds. It was like a whirlpool floating on the surface, like a black hole that swallowed everything, and like a hole in the top of my head. The floor of the room was filled with pieces of paper with a mixture of lyrics, pictures and sheet music. But suddenly..... I returned to myself and stopped writing. Right now, I've noticed the worthlessness, meaninglessness, ugliness, and helplessness of the words, pictures, and scales I wrote.
What are you doing? I broke the paper. Everything I've written so far.
I threw it in the trash can without hesitation. The bundle of paper looked like a vomit that I had just spit out. Then I became a high school student.
I finally found myself worthless. The uniform tie was stuffy. I crossed the subsidence bridge while looking down and went to school. I took an exam and passed the exam at a junior and senior high school in the center of the city, and transferred from high school. There, I met my childhood friend Shinobu-kun again.
"Shizu.."
"Shinobu-kun ..."
Now that I was in high school, Shinobu-kun looked tall and shining, all different. On the other hand, I didn't seem to have grown at all since then, and I was irresistibly embarrassed and couldn't even talk. What have I been doing so far? I started a new life going to the city from the mountains, but I couldn't get into studying. Even though I had a hard time taking the exam, I just looked out the window during class. Knowing that this shouldn't be the case. Club activities didn't go anywhere. There were very few such students. On the way home, you can see the students devoting themselves to club activities. The track and field club is jumping the training hurdle in a line in the courtyard. The volleyball club is running on the ground. A percussionist in the brass band with a metronome in his ear is striking a stick in the hallway. The Naginata club sits upright in the martial arts hall with a good posture, and thank you for your cooperation, saying before the practice. The first-year students of the baseball club, who have not yet been numbered, stand side by side and watch as if they are digging into the practice of their seniors. I didn't belong anywhere, so I left school quickly. It was already winter. There is a river called Kagami River that flows from east to west in the center of the city. Since the flow is often gentle, the TV tower and buildings on the opposite bank are reflected like a mirror. When I returned to the station through the road beside it, the girls of the light music club carrying the "Chahahaha" musical instrument case overtook me with a light step while laughing. A cute cat-shaped stuffed animal attached to the school bag is shaking. Attached to my school bag was a cheesy plastic plate of "Gutto Koremaru". "Gutto Koremaru" is an egg-shaped character who can poke his hand against the wall and endure the pain. I have a crack in my head, probably because I endured it too much. Of course, it's not cute.
In a dark and narrow corridor.
I resisted, "I can't do it! Hey!", But I was pulled into the room, saying "OK." The soundproof door slammed behind me. Shinboku "Ah!" There was a flashy room in a karaoke box, and the pink and purple lights were spinning mysteriously. It smells of incense. Only for girls in the class.
I heard that it was a social gathering, but when I saw the frenzy of the girls standing on the sofa and shaking their heads, I thought that I could not get into this tension very much.
"Peggie Sue is cute"
"This is the one that is popular in" U ", isn't it?" On the monitor screen on the wall, the popular Az of "U", Peggy Sue, was seen singing in a black rubber dress. Purple lipstick that shakes silver hair. An eccentric beauty with red eyes. Peggy Sue? "U"? Az? Is it popular? I don't know anything. It's like an event in a different world from me. Then, Hitomi suddenly offered a microphone, "Yes." Sing, and so on. "Huh?" Puzzled. Neither the coat nor the muffler is taken off. But "yes" the microphone was pointed again. Why for a child like me who is at the end of a class?
"Sing together?"
"Hey, sing."
The shadows of the girls press the microphones. What do you mean?
"Are you not going to sing alone?"
"Isn't it a lie that you can't sing?"
I see, so it’s this situation.
Dozens of microphones are forced against my face one after another. "Uuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuu"
"Sing"
"Hey, sing?"
"Sing"
Those voices sound like a threat.
"You're telling me to sing."
"Sing!"
"Sing!"
Ahh!
Immediately, the microphone popped off and fell to the floor.
The girls dancing on the sofa suddenly saw me. It's calming down as if I was taken aback.
"What happened? Suzu-chan"
The mic and the shadows of the girls disappeared like a phantom.
"No, nothing. I'm sorry. Hey ..."
Without saying anything, I pushed the door of the karaoke box open by force and went out like crawling. Someone might have heard and told everyone that I couldn't sing.
When I got off the bus, powder snow was flying. I almost slipped down the slope from the bus stop. Even in Kochi, it usually snows in the mountains, aside from the city. When I crossed the subsidence bridge, I heard a crackling sound of thin ice. The surface of the concrete bridge is frozen.
Cold. It's not dexterous enough to get used to everyone, and it's not divisible. On the other hand, I’m not strong enough to be alone, not prepared, and have no idea.
I don't do anything selfish. Rumors that you can't sing, that's a lie. I'm just not confident in myself for a while. I want to get along with everyone. Really. I know. Of course I know. So "Ah ... Ah ..."
In the middle of the bridge, I impulsively exhaled my voice.
"Ah ... ah ... ah ah"
As I breathed in, cold air sank into my throat. Still, I sang towards the river. "Ah..”
Did I sing? It didn't match a song. It's just a growl. The bag slipped off my shoulder. Will you forgive me if I sing? Can I get along with everyone if I sing? It doesn't help to sing alone in such a place. It's like a scream of a dead end before being crushed. Still, I sang that song with my mother with a squeezed voice. I was happy back then. It's different now. Powder snow was swirling in the flow of the river. Suddenly, in front of me it became pitch black. Nausea swelled from the back of my stomach, and I held my mouth with both hands.
"Uuuuu!"
I crouched on my knees. However, I couldn't stand the momentum of the backflowing gastric juice. I pushed my body forward and vomited towards the clear stream under the bridge. The vomit that was about to kneel and vomit fell to the surface of the water, creating a number of ripples. I spit out everything in my stomach and fell on the bridge. My hair is messed up and my mouth is smeared with gastric juice and smells. It's already spicy. I want to get rid of everything. Shivering and crying as if groaning. Drops of tears ooze on my cold cheeks and tingle. I wish I were gone.
I could hear the slight sound of powder snow folding and piled up right next to me. A notification came to the smartphone that slipped off my bag. It was a message from Hiro-chan.
<< Look at this, Suzu. It’s so amazing that I’m seriously laughing. >>
There is a link to somewhere.
-------------------
https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Dcx2NedPVBEdbfQaU-WC0pJMRmn20ASn7HSC0KY9R7E/edit?usp=sharing ~ Google Doc of the English-translated novel.
ryuutosobakasuhime.wordpress.com ~ English fan-site for Ryuu to Sobakasu no Hime where translations, scans, and other content is posted.
#belle#belle movie#ryuu to sobakasu no hime#ryu to sobakasu no hime#ryu#ryuu#studio chizu#mamoru hosoda#竜とそばかすの姫#belle 2021#hime
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Deja Vecu
Hello, its been a while!! Please accept this release of the unpublished scene from Chapter Two of Deja Vu. Its basically 4k of Remus being gay for a stranger he keeps seeing die, and ain’t that a mood? :)
Summary: The Missing Scene in chapter 2 of Deja Vu, in which Remus agrees to help a stranger rob a casino.
Words: 4397
Read on Ao3 || Hero Worship Series || My General Writing Masterlist
At twenty-one years old, Remus finds out that robbing a casino is a lot less fun than Ocean’s Eleven led him to believe. It’s almost ridiculous the amount of security that went into protecting the chips and the cash on hand: following the path of the cash box from earlier, there’s two hired security guards framing the employee’s entrance, neither of whom like being touched nor can be persuaded to leave their posts together. There’s a card reader locking the door which despite looking like walnut wood, is actually steel with a clever paint job. And that’s just the first level.
“Predictable,” Dee says from where he had made himself comfortable on Remus’s bed with the complimentary note pad the hotel had supplied him. He had left his suit jacket on the desk to avoid the wrinkles but lounged on the foot of the bed without taking off his shoes. Remus had tossed himself down next to him, stretching out to gather all the pillows and built a throne for himself like he was eight instead of twenty-one.
Dee had watched him, back to wearing the face of the man who had approached him in the casino. Remus thinks he looks nice like that: hansom enough to please anyone who looked his way and charming enough to disarm anyone who might have seen him as out of place and forgettable enough that Remus couldn’t remember if they had gambled together previously.
“You don’t have to do that, you know,” Remus had pointed out. “I know what the real you looks like.”
Dee’s pen digs into the paper a little harder than necessary and Remus pretends he hadn’t noticed. The smile he receives is light and joking but it doesn’t meet his eyes at all. “I happened to like this appearance.”
Remus hums, “Lame. The scales are cool.” But he had let it drop in favor of twisting the purple casino chip between his fingers.
Dee taps his pen on the comforter in thought, his borrowed blue eyes distant as he mulled over Remus’s reports from futures that won’t happen. “What else did you notice?”
“Tessa isn’t your wife anymore, Danny.”
Dee snorts, which, by all means, should not be as graceful and elegant as he makes it seem. There’s a fluidity to the way he dips his head and scribbled on the pad of paper that makes him looks dignified. Or maybe that’s just the angle that Remus is looking at him with. A lock of his dark hair slips into his eyes and he brushes it back with two gloved fingers.
Remus falls back against the stack of pillows he had built around himself, breathing deeply and settling himself. The air smells like the lemon cleaner that the hotel staff had used to clean his room earlier when Remus had been out and about, but there’s hints of something else—something sweet and spicy with an undertone of wood.
--Dee blinks at the question, shifting so that he’s lying on his stomach, his head resting on his palm. “I wonder,” He says, with eyes so bright and blue and innocent that Remus feels like he’s stuck in them, “if you mean the Cardamom scent from my aftershave.” And Remus’s heart beats just a little faster, a little harder, a little more.—
“When I ask what else you notice,” Dee says, drawing Remus back to the present, “I meant your other senses. You’ve told me about what you’ve seen. What about sounds? The smells? You said you experience this as a first-person thing, correct?”
Remus waves a hand. “Its both. I’m there in person but I’m also having an out of body experience, too.”
Dee squints. “Doesn’t that…get confusing? How can you interpret all the stimuli at once?”
“Stimuli! What, are you a scientist in your free time?” Remus mocks, but Dee’s shoulders tense at the insinuation.
“You don’t have to tell me.” He says, “I was just curious.” He’s not, though. Remus isn’t quite sure how he knows, but Dee’s curiosity is more than just a simple question. It feels like it’s more, like he’s gathering information and sorting it away for later, like he’s making decisions based on Remus’s answers that have nothing to do with the how they are going to get into a Vault protected by a six digit code that only three people have and then get back out with more money than they can physically carry.
“Shame,” Remus says, feeling the shift in the bed as Dee’s shoulders unwind. “If you were a scientist you could dissect me for all the goodies inside! Of course, you can do that without being a scientist, too, but it’s not as fun.”
“Are you speaking from personal experience?”
Remus flips the coin in the air and catches it with the same hand. It comes up heads. “Why, does that scare you?”
Dee watches him, the pen absently twirling in the air between them. Remus can feel the weight of his gaze like a physical thing, pressing on his chest and making him self conscious of exactly how many breathes he’s been taking. The cotton comforter has a square pattern on it that he hadn’t noticed before, but he can count only three squares between the two of them. For some reason that information feels important.
“No,” Dee says after another moment passes and the air simmers. “I supposed it concerns me.”
Remus swallows the urge to laugh at his face.
“You just seem to be a useful person,” Dee continues, defensively. “I would hate to see that usefulness be squandered.”
This time Remus does laugh and it’s a bumbling bubbling burst of noise in their quiet world. His lungs shake and his heart hurts, but he laughs and something about it makes Dee’s smile softly too. The air is light, but there’s an underlying tension there, lurking in the shadows and reminding Remus that for all the dashing good looks and the semi honest expressions, the man before him is a stranger wearing a borrowed face and absolutely no one would miss him if he disappeared.
He flips the coin again, watching it roll over itself too many times to count, bounce off his hand and then flop to a stop direction between the two of them. Dee pokes it with the butt of his pen, like he was expecting it to get up and walk away.
“To answer your question,” Remus says, breathing in deeply enough to smell his cardamom aftershave and wondering why no one else in his twenty-one years of living had thought to ask him. “Seeing the future does get confusing. But it’s whatever. It never causes anything worse than a nosebleed.”
Dee hums and scribbles something down on his notepad. If Remus sat up just slightly, he would be able to see it, but he finds he likes the mystery more. Was it notes to use against him? Or was it things to think about in the future? Or was it still the colossal list of numbers they weren’t even a fraction of the way through?
--They manage to draw the guard’s attention away with a faked emergency: Remus never put stock in his own acting skills so he stumbles and falls on another patron and lets his head crack against the corner of the a craps table just far enough away that the guards are drawn the few steps over to check on both of them. Remus doesn’t bother responding to any of their prompts until Dee with the face of Tim the dealer swipes his borrowed card and lets the door behind him close. They had radios from the same place where Dee had procured the keycard from, and Remus thinks he could fall asleep listening to Dee’s breaths.
“Left, right, or center?” Dee asks.
“Left,” Remus hums, watching the casino patrons around him. A woman in her thirties just won at a baccarat table and tried to kiss the dealer. “There’s a camera at around the corner, but it roves. Your future self said to wait five seconds then go.”
Remus waves down a waitress and orders a mojito while he waits. Dee gives soft laugh at the concept and Remus tries to calm his nerves.
“You’re so uptight,” He says softly, almost to the point where Remus can’t hear him over the chattering of other people. “Relax a little, Remus. It’s just my life.”
“The Elevator code is 7-1-3-2,” Remus tells him. “And you’re going to want change your pretty little face to someone of a higher ranking on the casino hierarchy unless you want Terry Benedict to know what we’re up to.”
Remus holds his breath as the elevator dings, and then as Dee repeats the code as he types it in, and then as the doors rumble closed. He twists the glass of his drink when it comes as he listens for the subtle clues on how far Dee is inside the belly of the beast. It takes him a moment to realize that Dee is humming softly, and his lips twist into a smile without his permission.
There’s some garbled conversation on Dee’s end, pleasantries and greetings and nice things that Remus never bothered to memorize. Dee glides through the conversations with ease, deceiving and grifting like he had been born to do it. And who knows? Maybe he had been. Polite conversation gets them through another three doors, including a hall wracked the cameras and the final elevator that can only be opened with two keys and a pin code graciously provided by an aware high-level friend that followed them in and was still chatting about their Perfect Child’s first steps.
Remus sips his mojito and watches the girl at the nearest roulette table eye the betting board. She’s still going to lose so Remus finds himself more entertained by trying to extract the lime from his drink than from watching her pout yet again when the ball lands on the red 36.
“Ah yes, the vault code,” Dee’s voice says, dragging Remus back to the mission at hand. He’s casual, loose, and ready, and Remus doesn’t understand how he does it. He glances down at the piece of paper in his hand and reads off the six-digit combination that was next on their list.
“5-1-3-2-7-6,” Remus presses a hand to his earpiece, listening as closely as he can. His breath shortens with each second, crafting infinities out of each passing tick. He can hear Dee’s laugh and his he listens closer he can make out the guard that’s next to him still chattering away. Each button bings when Dee presses it in, soft and charming and not at all like a guillotine that’s cut their mission off a hundred-some times before.
“Hey man you, okay?” The person with Dee asks, less out of curiosity and more out of suspicion.
“Yes sorry my finger slipped,” Dee says quickly and punches in the next number in ascending order out of blind hope that it might be the correct one but it isn’t and Remus knows it because that’s when the person next to Dee asks him to back away and demands to know who he is and Dee’s placating answers are never enough so he tries to shift but bullets are faster than he is and Remus rips out his ear piece right before the gun goes—
“Another bust,” Dee sighs, drawing a snake on the corner of his paper. “Somehow I feel like we could win more playing on the casino floor than doing this….” He trails, off eyes distant again, thinking more about money than about the number of deaths Remus has witnessed.
It seems strange, that Remus would care so much more about that then he does, but in a way that doesn’t surprise him. Its Death with a capital ‘D’ and in Remus’s twenty-one years of experience, the only people who feared death were those who were aware of how close it was. Remus was practically best friends with Death, with the taste of the asphalt on the highway, with the feeling of a free fall, with the awkward fit of a hotel bathtub. He’s familiar with the cold silver of fear, but it doesn’t make him any less afraid.
Dee knows he keeps dying, though. Dying alone, deep inside a labyrinth of a building and Remus wonders if he should stop this while he’s ahead. He knows once that half hour mark hits in the future there’s no more Dee to be waiting for, no pay out. Just the pain of seeing a swarm of S.W.A.T. officers covertly weave between the patrons and leave with a human sized black bag. But Remus still waits and watches, holding dutiful vigil over a fruitless endeavor and letting hope build just for it to shatter with reality.
“Why does this mean so much to you?” Remus asks, somewhere between the fifteenth and the hundred fiftieth casino themed wake procession. His eyes burn a little, and he tries to tell himself it’s just the brightness of lights.
“Money is everything,” Dee marks the next two number off his list on his notebook and talks without listening to his own words. Its not fair that he sounds so convinced it’s true, when his mouth moves like he’s practiced this in the mirror. “What about you? Why do you continue to watch?”
Remus sinks back on his pillows, holding on to that faint scent of wood and spice and the feeling in his gut that comes from every time Dee listens to his advice from the future, from every time Dee listens and adheres, from every times Dee just believes.
Remus wonders how so much trust could be from this stranger who’s known him for an hour or two, and yet Roman had never been able to just accept what he said without an argument. He sounds crazy when he talks about what will happen, but Dee just nods and lets his lips twitch into a smile when handing him a roll of toilet paper.
Remus rips off another length the cheap paper and folds its in half before shoving it on his face. There’s blood in his mustache, which is frustrating and tastes just as gross as all the other times he’s had blood dripping down his chin.
“Remus,” Dee says, without looking up from his notepad.
“Yes, dearest stranger taking up half my bed?” He inhales hard.
“This is a fourth, at most.”
“Tomayto-tomahto.”
Dee shoots him a look that he can just barely make out around the clomps of flimsy paper he’s holding to his face. He looks like he’s trying not to be amused. Which is funny! Because, well, Remus can’t remember the last time someone who wasn’t related to him was in his company long enough to find him amusing.
“Why are you doing this?” Dee asks. “Other than the money, which we agreed would be a fifty-fifty split, regardless of how much we manage to walk out of here with….but somehow I don’t see money being enough for you to watch me die over and over again. Otherwise you wouldn’t have stopped me from lunging for that cash box.”
Remus is twenty-one when he shrugs and says, “It’s something to do.”
Dee huffs another dazzling laugh and for a moment Remus thinks he can see a flash of sharpened teeth in that smile, fangs like a vampire come to life, but it’s too fast for him to be sure. “Ah, I see we’re both liars tonight. Ready for the next attempt?”
Remus wonders if it’s still lying when its technically the truth. He’s doing this because its time spent with this shapeshifting sham, this enlightening enigma, this confusing con artist who lies as easily as breathing. Remus has a hard time believing anything personal he says is true, and yet he finds himself eyeing the three squared spaces on the comforter again wondering if it would be too much to make it two, one, none.
For someone who trusts Remus to see the future seven billions times as they try to figure out the vault code, who follows every direction Remus gives without hesitation, who continues to act as if Death is not something that can happen to him, he is extraordinarily hard to trust in return. Words are meaningless because he flaunts them, and Remus grew up watching Roman practice lines enough to know when someone was acting. Dee probably isn’t even his real name.
But Remus…Remus hasn’t been seen the way that Dee sees him before. Isn’t that enough for him to want to spend as long as he can with this stranger? Regardless of the danger Dee is running straight into? Regardless of the slight thrill that he gets from the prospect that they might get away with this?
-- There’s some garbled conversation on Dee’s end, pleasantries and greetings and nice things that Remus never bothered to memorize. Dee glides through the conversations with ease, deceiving and grifting like he had been born to do it. And who knows? Maybe he had been. Polite conversation gets them through another three doors, including a hall wracked the cameras and the final elevator that can only be opened with two keys and a pin code graciously provided by an aware high-level friend that followed them in and was still chatting about their Perfect Child’s first steps.
Remus sips his chocolate martini and watches the girl at the nearest roulette table eye the betting board. He knows from all the other times he’s watched that she loses, although as he peaks over at the numbers she’s never far off. It must be that excitement of the near win that keeps her there.
“Ah yes, the vault code,” Dee’s voice says, dragging Remus back to the mission at hand. He’s casual, loose, and ready, and Remus doesn’t still understand how he does it.
“5-1-3-3-4-1.”
He can hear Dee’s laugh and his he listens closer he can make out the guard that’s next to him still chattering away. Each button bings when Dee presses it in, soft and charming and not at all like the bells of victory when the code is right, holy shit. The Code was right. Dee’s breath catches in his throat, and Remus nearly drops his martini on the floor. His heart races in his chest with an emotion that he can’t quiet put a name too.
They did it.
They…won. Remus makes his way towards the doors where they were set to meet back up, and Dee continues a casual conversation with the armed guard about children as he fills both his briefcases with as much money as he can fit. By the breathless excitement in his voice, Remus can guess there’s more money in front of him than he expected to be able to get. He invites the guard over for family dinner next night because he’s an asshole and Remus finds that quality admirable.
He waves down a waitress to get a second drink, Dee’s celebratory drink, because as soon as he got past the doors they were home free-
“Hey! Hey! Stop him!” A voice yells in Dee’s ear and the shapeshifter curses.
“Remus!” He yells, “The executive is in the halls! He-!”
There’s a gunshot and a thud and Remus rips out his earpiece and screams loud enough to make all the nearest games freeze in their tracks—
“Let me guess,” Dee says, rolling over, “Another bust? The next numbers ar—”
“No,” Remus throws himself into a sitting position, and blindly grabbing for more toilet paper. The back of his throat is slick with a metallic taste and his head spins a bit when he tries to stand up. “No, Dee!”
“No?”
“Dee, we did it! That’s the code,” Remus says, pretending like his knees don’t buckle when the floor rolls under his feet. Dee is there in a moment, hands under his arms and holding him up completely. Its almost like a hug, Remus thinks distantly. He’s twenty-one and he can’t remember the last time someone hugged him even as a joke. His skin itches at the contact, blistering and burning at the warmth of someone else being so close to him. The cardamom scent is so strong, but Remus thinks he might be okay if that was the only thing he smelled for the rest of his life.
“Are you…okay?” Dee asks. “Why are you…?”
Remus uses the back of his hand to wipe away the stream of blood from his nose and inhales hard. “You died again. The executive you choose to impersonate is in the building and you run into him right before getting out with the cash.”
“Who was it? I can change into someone else.”
Remus shakes his head. “Oh no. I’ve got no clue, but if there’s one thing I know how to do, it’s get someone’s attention.”
Dee grins, “You certainly got mine. What are you going to do?”
Remus slides his weight back and manages to stand on his own legs. Remus’s heart does a dance routine in his chest, moving like if it slows for even a second Dee will lunge forward and rip it from his body.
Remus tells him, “I’m going to go make a girl win at roulette so much they think she’s cheating. With a hundred thousand dollars on the line that should have their attentions, right?”
It’s not really a question. Remus knows from experience that the more games in a row that you win during a game involving so much luck, the more interest people start to take in it and you. He just needs to convince the girl to bet only where he tells her to, and then bet as much as she can.
He knows how to do it, too: simply walk up to her and offer her a free Barney if she bets on the square he tells her too. Once she wins, he tells her the next one, and maybe she puts a nickel down, or a quarter, just in case he’s wrong. When she wins again, he’ll tell her the next number, and she’ll put more on it. Then more. Then more. She doesn’t even need to believe that he can see the future. She just has to reap the rewards.
“Oh,” Dee says staring at him. “Oh.”
Remus isn’t sure what he’s looking at. He just knows that Dee’s eyes are as blue as the ocean and deeper than anything he’s ever drowned in. He’s looking at Remus again, like this is the first time he’s seeing him in this lighting, and when he smiles, his teeth are definitely sharper than before.
“I do believe,” Dee says, “we could make the best team of thieves there is out here.”
“You’re just now figuring that out?” Remus asks. “Come on. I didn’t listen to you die nine hundred times just for you to chicken out now.”
He grabs his jacket, and buttons it. With a swipe of his hands he’s hair sets back in the position before, like some type of magic act. If Dee’s the magician, Remus thinks he would be honored to be in the front row every time he performs.
“So, you’d be up to doing this again, correct?” Dee asks, with his hand on the doorknob.
“They won’t fall for the same trick twice,” Remus says, “And what makes you think that this is something I enjoy?”
“I didn’t ask if you enjoyed it. I asked if you’d do this again. Not here, but somewhere else.” Dee glances at him, side eyeing him in a way that makes the hair on the back of Remus’s neck stand on end. “You still owe me.”
“What?” Remus turns to face him, and if there’s a spark in his chest, a nudge of excitement, well who can blame him? People don’t usually want him to stay around.
Another step in the hall. “We made a deal, unless you’ve forgotten. You said that if I could figure out how you were cheating, you’d do one thing that I want you to do.”
Remus snorted and motioned between them, “What do you call this? What we’ve been doing for the past hour?”
“This?” The man gives him a shark-like smile, “You did this of your own volition!”
“I seem to recall you asking,” Remus challenges.
Dee shakes his head too innocently. “Not in this timeline.” He pulls out his pale-yellow handkerchief and offers it to him, “You still have blood on your face by the way.”
There’s something nice about the way that this man is looking at him, the way he’s still looking at him, like Remus is something more than a nuisance, more than a distraction, more than an unwanted, frustrating intrusion. It makes his knees weak and the back of his throat taste like blood again and he so desperately wants to look to the future but won’t let himself do it.
“What do you want?” Remus says, because the uncharacteristic fear in his chest is slowly turning all his organs to butterflies and he never goes back on a promise.
“Well, you did say anything I wanted right? Anything at all?”
Remus nods, rolling his finger over the snake design on the stolen poker chip. Suddenly there doesn’t seem to be enough air in the world, and he’s afraid if he inhales too deeply trying to get more, the whole reality will shatter.
Dee’s form shimmers, shivers, and dissolves into Tim the dealer as they wait for the elevator to take them back to the casino floor. It’s an entirely different person but when he looks at Remus all he can see is Dee’s expression.
“Well, Remus,” He says, “After we finish up here, I want you to come with me. Work with me a bit. Let me help you amass a bit of a fortune. Strictly professional, of course. I won’t ask about your past and you don’t ask about mine. We don’t even need to be friends! Just…”
Dee offers out a gloved hand to him. “Business partners?”
Remus is twenty-one and he thinks there might be a timeline out there where he says no, but he doesn’t even entertain that thought.
“Business Partners,” He says and shakes on it.
#Demus#sanders sides#janus sanders#remus sanders#deja vu au#robbing a casino for your mental health#Oceans eleven references because I love that movie#superpowers#Remus from before things get bad#tw: temporary death#Remus can see the future#Janus can shapeshift#Everything is GREAT :)
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Chapter 18
of the wwx emperor au that still doesn’t have a damn title
Prologue | Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 Part 1 | Chapter 8 Part 2 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14 | Chapter 15 Part 1 | Chapter 15 Part 2 | Chapter 16 | Chapter 17
Wei Ying regrets the promise he made to Lan Zhan before the competition even starts.
The West Gate courtyard is crowded, and rowdy, and almost impossible to navigate. He imagines that the East Gate courtyard is not much better. Worse, the decision to split up the sword fighting competition into three separate locations had been entirely his own idea, so he has no one to blame but himself.
At the time, it had seemed a perfect way to ensure that everyone gets to compete, regardless of their level. Those with weak spiritual powers and low cultivation, the young disciples, and those slow to develop real talent, none of them should be left out only because they cannot match up with the top young masters of the cultivation world. Wei WuXian had opened the two courtyards so they can compete against each other instead, and showcase their skills.
Only five of those who come out on top in the West and East courtyards will move on to the Jade Sword Palace competition, where they will have an opportunity to fight the most advanced young masters.
In other words, Wei Ying must be one of the five in order to face Lan Zhan.
He is fully confident in his own skills, but there are dozens upon dozens of disciples here, and even swatting each one with half his strength will take an abominably long time. In order to start in the West Gate courtyard, he had needed to be ready at the crack of dawn, when those entering the Jade Sword competition directly will not even need to show until the sun reaches its noon peak.
He had only chosen to blend in with the Nie Sect because they routinely cover the bottom portion of their face when entering a fight. There is some historical significance to that, although Wei Ying does not know the details. The one time he had asked Nie MingJue about it, the man had grunted something about QingHe being dusty, and refused to elaborate on the subject.
Either way, the cloth covering the bottom part of his face, coupled with the Nie Sect uniform, and topped off with a multitude of intricate braids holding his hair in place, has made him fairly unrecognizable. And although A-Sang had complained bitterly about having to spend hours in the early morning braiding his hair, Wei Ying thinks his friend was secretly pleased to be able to stuff him in a Nie Sect uniform.
But the uniform was designed for QingHe. It is leather, heavy and thick, a weight that will start to wear on him by noon. The face covering is obnoxiously hot, next to being utterly unmanageable. There must be a way to talk while wearing the cloth, without having it end up in his mouth every time. But he has not yet figured out the trick of it, and the sheer amount of times he has had to spit it back out is driving him to distraction.
He fights three duels, wins easily, then waits. And waits. And waits.
He fights three more, wins again, then waits.
It is tedious, all the waiting, and he cannot help but watch the sun move, trying to picture what Lan Zhan might be doing at the moment.
He knows the Lan Sect rises at five. Does Lan Zhan ever feel resentful of the early hour? Does he try and sleep in a little longer? Does he braid his hair loosely before he goes to bed at night? Does he look disheveled in the mornings? Are his sleep robes white as well?
That train of thought inevitably goes to some very distracting places, and he quickly abandons it for more tame considerations.
Thoughts of Lan Zhan’s sleep-flushed skin and white sleep robes? A terrible thing to be focused on while trying not to get stabbed.
He wonders what Lan Zhan eats in the mornings. Does he eat? What kind of tea does he prefer? Does he like spices? Does he like sweets?
He fights three more duels, wins, and settles in to wait again.
The hour is now between seven and nine, and Wei Ying wonders if Lan Zhan is meditating, or practicing, or maybe taking a walk. He sighs.
“Why do you sigh so much?”
There is a group of tiny Nie disciples to his right. Wei Ying had chosen to remain near them because they are extra loud, extra rowdy, and too self-centered to see anyone around them.
Now, a small disciple seems to have noticed him.
“Who are you anyway? I do not think I have seen you before.”
Wei Ying intends to tell him to mind his own business, but the boy’s voice seems familiar. It takes him a few moments to recognize the same Nie disciple who had so ruthlessly called Jin ZiXun to account. The kid still has his face cover on, despite the fact that most have removed theirs when not fighting, but that defiant glint in the boy’s eye is easily recognizable. Suddenly, Wei Ying is in a much better mood.
“It is a secret.”
“Ah,” the boy says, “Are you one of the bastards?”
He does not wait for Wei Ying to confirm or deny it,
“No one cares here. TingShan He might, but they would never dare say anything. Besides,” the boy crosses his arms, “Jin GuangShan is the one who has thousands of bastards all over the place, and keeps trying to hide them. If anyone should be ashamed, it should be the Jin Sect.”
Wei Ying is still trying to figure out whose bastard he could possibly be, when the boy nudges him,
“Nie Sect takes care of their own, bastards or not. You should tell me your name.”
“Why not tell me yours?” Wei Ying counters.
“Why would I tell you mine, if you will not tell me yours?”
Wei Ying decides to change tactics,
“Why do you hate the Jin Sect so much?”
“I do not hate the Jin Sect,” the boy says, sounding offended, “I just think they are useless.”
Wei Ying nearly chokes on his own spit. He has to clear his throat before he can speak again.
“How are they useless?”
“Do you see any of them? There is not a single Jin uniform in this courtyard. None in the East courtyard either. There are more Jin Sect disciples than there are cockroaches, but only three signed up to compete with the rest of us, and none of them bothered to show up. Useless.”
Wei Ying had not noticed. To be fair, he had not really given much thought to anything except Lan Zhan lately, but now, looking around the courtyard, the absence of the yellow Jin Sect colors is glaringly obvious.
“You should not sigh so much,” the boy says, “Especially when you are winning. It is bad luck. What is there to sigh about?”
Wei Ying opens his mouth, then spits out the face cover.
“How do you talk without eating this thing?” he asks.
“You are not supposed to talk when you fight,” the boy says slowly, his tone implying that Wei Ying had asked a very stupid question.
Then it is Wei Ying’s turn again. He fights three duels, he wins, he goes back to wait.
This time, however, he watches the tiny disciple, who wins two out of the three. The kid is not strong, but he is quick and vicious. Wei Ying thinks he would not be above biting his opponent if it gave him an upper hand.
Wei Ying looks up at the sun again. The time is now between nine and eleven. He wonders if Lan Zhan is getting ready. Will he wear white again? Will he leave his hair loose, or tie it more securely? Is he nervous? Is he excited?
Has he told his uncle and brother about Wei Ying’s plans? Wei Ying feels slightly guilty now, for asking the Lan Sect to keep this secret. It had seem necessary at the time, to tell Lan Zhan the truth; one case of mistaken identity between them was one too many, and Lan Zhan seems a type of person who values the truth, even when he disapproves.
He fights three duels, he wins, he goes back to wait.
He wonders if Lan Zhan has left the Peach Blossom Pavilion yet. He sighs.
#the untamed#cql#mdzs#ficlet#m#wwx emperor au#there isn't much to this chapter guys#sorry about that#just moving the plot along#and wei wuxian pining#thank you for all the nice messages and tags and comments#ily
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Klaine Fic - You’ll Always Be The Home - Epilogue
Author: darriness
Fic Summary: Everything is finally settled in Kurt and Blaine’s life…right?
Link to: Prologue - Chapter 1 - Chapter 2 - Chapter 3 - Chapter 4 - Chapter 5
Rating: T
Chapter Word Count: 1653
Chapter Summary: Beginnings
Author’s Note: Thank you so much for reading, reviewing, liking, reblogging, and just generally being supportive. Could not have done this without my beta @darrenismydarcy. And just a side note: the title of this fic comes from a Backstreet Boys song :) Enjoy!
AO3 Link
*Two Years Later*
“Libby! Come here, Libby! Do you want a cookie? Come get the cookie?”
“Do not degrade my niece in such a way!” Bethany admonishes, picking up the baby currently trying her damndest to walk between the couches. She hugs her to her chest and strokes her hair.
Aiden, who had been the one attempting to get the baby to come to him, laughs from the couch, “What was degrading about what I said? And...I’m pretty sure she’s my niece, too.”
Bethany rolls her eyes, “You called her ‘Libby’.” She shudders at the name like it personally offends her, “That is just so wrong. Right, Bethy?” She says, moving her face down so she can look the baby in the eye, “We Beth’s have to stick together!”
Aiden chuckles, “Coming from a girl who tells anyone and everyone to call her ‘Annie’.”
Bethany advances a couple of steps toward the nine-year-old on the couch before she’s interrupted, “Okaaaay.” Kurt says, walking into the room and scooping the baby from Bethany’s arm, “How about we not trade blows with my daughter in the middle?”
Bethany pouts slightly before sighing, “He called her Libby.”
Kurt laughs, “Yeah...because that’s her name.” He lifts the eleven-month-old over his head which makes her giggle, “Isn’t that right, Libby?” He says to her as she continues to squeal. He brings her down to rest in his arms again before turning to Bethany, “We’ve told you time and time again we couldn’t very well have two official Beth’s in the house.”
Bethany tries to hold her pout but ends up smiling, “But you named her after me.”
“We named her after Kurt.” Blaine says, coming into the room. He sidles up next to Bethany and bumps his hip with her lightly while she looks on in shock, “And you.” He adds, though this isn’t new information to any of them. He makes his way over to Kurt and tickles Libby’s neck which makes her squirm and take refuge by burying her face in Kurt’s chest, “Elizabeth Jane Anderson-Hummel. Named after her Papa and her aunt.”
“And the spitting image of her Daddy.” Kurt finishes with a smile.
It’s a conversation they have a lot and never get tired of. With her chubby cheeks, curly brown hair, and hazel eyes, Libby really is the girl version of Blaine. Almost every day of her eleven months, Kurt and Blaine have tried to find traits that may have come from their surrogate but have yet to find any and as time goes by they look less and less. She’s Libby. And she’s perfect. Even when she’s crying at all hours of the night and keeping the entire household awake.
“Hey, why didn’t you name her after me?” Aiden asks, standing up to join the others in the middle of the room.
Bethany sighs and slings her arm around the shorter boy, “Because, my dear pain in the neck, you have to be in the family for longer than two years to warrant a namesake.”
“I’ve been in the family nine years!” Aiden protests.
Bethany squints one eye closed, “Let me rephrase - we had to have known you existed longer than two years to warrant a namesake.”
Aiden scoffs in mock indignation as Bethany tightens her hold on his neck and brings her other hand up to give him a noogie. Aiden shouts in protest and attempts to wriggle free.
Blaine and Kurt watch on and can’t help but think, despite Bethany’s words, that Aiden feels like he’s been part of the family for longer than two years.
After their initial meeting, Kurt, Blaine, and Bethany had seen Aiden a few times over the following months. He snuck out of his house every time and, true to his word, never once got caught by their father. Eventually, and neither Kurt, Blaine, or Bethany knows exactly when, Aiden started showing up more and more, to the point where it felt like he spent more time at their house, a modest three bedroom townhouse they bought after their surrogate got pregnant, than he did at his own. He became part of their family.
Bethany, especially, treats him so. Kurt has postulated to Blaine that Bethany’s relationship with Aiden has been shaped a lot by her relationship growing up with Blaine. The fact that they met Aiden at the same age Bethany had been when she and Blaine were left on their own, she has taken it upon herself to fill that role for Aiden that Blaine had filled for her. He may not live with them full-time, or officially at all, but that doesn’t stop Bethany from trying to give him what their father couldn’t possibly.
Though whatever the reason, Kurt and Blaine can both agree that Bethany and Aiden’s relationship has done wonders for both of them. Aiden has loosened up considerably and become a more relaxed, carefree boy. Though he can still hold his own in a judging competition with Kurt (not that they’ve ever tried officially).
Bethany, in turn, has become more focussed, driven, and responsible…
Which brings them to this very day. A day Blaine has been dreading since he and Bethany left their parents’ house all those years ago. Today, Bethany, now more often than not going by Annie, Anderson starts college. And Blaine is not okay.
“All right,” Kurt says, breaking up the mini sibling scuffle, “We should probably head out. The car, and dorm orientation, are waiting.” He gestures with his head out the door before adjusting Libby and making his way out. Aiden jogs after him, asking if he can put Libby in her car seat.
When it’s just Blaine and Bethany in the living room, Bethany sighs as she looks out the open door.
“What’s up?” Blaine asks. The sigh had not been a particularly happy one.
Bethany has been over the moon to start college at Columbia. They may live in the same city as the university, but Bethany and Blaine came to the decision, after she had been accepted, that it was probably best, at least for the first year, for her to experience living in the dorms. She hasn’t stopped talking about it for months.
Bethany shrugs as she screws one of her toes into the carpet.
“Hey,” Blaine whispers, reaching out and grabbing her hand. She turns to look at him and Blaine can see tears swimming in her eyes. He sighs and pouts out his lower lip slightly, “Hey, now. What’s wrong?” He asks, pulling her to him in a hug.
She goes willing and cuddles into his chest, “I don’t think I can do this.” She whispers.
Blaine tuts, “Of COURSE you can do this. You are so ready for this. You are going to have an amazing time. And Kurt and I are just a phone call or subway ride away.”
“But I’m going to miss so much! What if Libby figures out walking or talking or doing her taxes when I’m not here!” The eighteen-year-old moans.
Blaine laughs, “Well, we will definitely call you if she starts doing her taxes.” He assures, before kissing Bethany’s head, “And you really are just a train or car ride away. I promise you, the moment it looks like Libby is going to do anything for the first time, I’ll call you.”
“Do you promise?” Bethany pouts.
“I promise.” Blaine says, even though he knows once Bethany starts her life at college, she isn’t going to be thinking about her niece here at home as much as she thinks she will.
Bethany pulls back, “And what about you?” She asks.
Blaine’s eyebrows go up, “What about me?” He asks, “You sort of missed my first steps on account of you not being born and them happening a good twenty-five years ago.”
Bethany laughs as she smacks Blaine’s chest lightly, “No!” She admonishes, “Are you going to be okay?” She asks.
Blaine gives her a small, sad smile, “I am going to be fine.” He says, “And besides you’re…”
“Only a car or train ride away.” Bethany finishes for him.
Blaine chuckles again, “Right.” He says softly before he looks her in the eyes very seriously, “You and I are not done needing each other, okay? I will always be here for you, Annie.”
Bethany’s eyes swim with more tears even as she smiles, “Right back atcha, big brother.”
The pair hug just as Kurt calls from the street for them to hurry up. They make their way out and Bethany gets into the back of the SUV with Aiden and Libby in her carseat.
Kurt grabs Blaine’s arm before he can get in with them. Blaine turns to him with his eyebrows raised in question.
“Are you going to be okay?” Kurt whispers.
Blaine gives him a sad smile, similar to the one he just gave Bethany, and shrugs, “I think so.” He says, “But...I might need to do some major crying when we get home.”
Kurt pouts his lips slightly and moves to bring Blaine’s hand to his mouth for a kiss, “Anything you need. I’m here for you.”
When Blaine was fifteen, he couldn’t have possibly imagined this moment, this day. He had been more worried about how to put food on the table and how to keep his seven-year-old sister alive for another day. And himself. His world had been irrevocably changed the night their parents abandoned them and yet, as he stands here right now, he wouldn’t change a single thing about any of it.
Not that night, not the two years after as they struggled to figure it out, not the year he and Kurt had broken up - none of it. It all brought him here. And ‘here’ feels like an amazing place to be.
He smiles at Kurt before tilting his head to the awaiting car and everything that still lays ahead.
The End
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Old Friends 4
Spencer Reid x reader
This chapter includes more of Reader’s backstory, I included a brother, but if you don’t have a brother... just do whatever you want. More fluff!!
Enjoy :)
Chapter 5 has been posted!!
Chapter 4:
“C’mon, smarty pants! We can do it!” I was practically yelling in between pants and heaves. “So close!”
“I hate you so much,” I heard him wheeze.
I was the only one in the world that could convince Spencer to go on a jog through the city, and I think he was regretting that decision severely. “Do it for donuts!”
When we finally reached our end destination, he practically collapsed onto a nearby bench, his chest heaving up and down.
“That wasn’t so bad, was it?” I asked with a smile. “We’re close to the cafe and the subway, so we won’t even have to walk that far.”
“For the record, it definitely was that bad, YFN. Don’t try and sugar coat it.”
I grabbed his wrist and pulled him off the bench. “We need carbs, right now. Carbs covered in chocolate and sprinkles, let’s go.”
He groaned and followed me into the cafe. “Where will we get changed into work clothes?”
“They have bathrooms at the BAU. Stop whining-“ I stopped talking as soon as I saw who was in front of me.
Morgan looked just as surprised to see us, sweaty, tired, and together, at 7:30 in the morning. His surprised look quickly changed into an amused one, and Morgan started chuckling. “Well, hello, lovebirds.”
“Hello, Morgan,” I said, feeling like I was caught. But we weren’t, right? We’re not dating, and all we did was go for a jog together. “Um, good morning.”
I could feel Spencer’s nervous energy rolling off of him. “Hey, Morgan.”
Morgan gave one last chuckle, and left the cafe without another word. Through the window I could see him pulling out his phone. There was nothing we could do about it now.
It was only our luck. I chuckled slightly at the thought, and turned to the cashier. “Four chocolate covered donuts with sprinkles, an unsweetened iced tea, and a large coffee with lots of milk and sugar please.”
---
I sat at my desk, trying not to laugh at how Spencer winced every time he had to move his legs. Morgan kept looking over at us and chuckling.
I tried to convince myself that it wasn’t a big deal. No matter what happens, we’re still old friends. We aren’t dating, and a jog in the early morning together isn’t exactly romantic.
During our lunch break, JJ came up to me. “Why is Morgan giggling like a four year old?”
“Well, Spencer and I went on a jog together this morning. We went to a cafe after and Morgan was there also.” I explained in a low voice. “He’s now convinced we were on some kind of date, which we weren’t.”
JJ looked dumbfounded. “Spence must care about you more than we thought. No one’s ever been able to get him to go on a jog before.”
I laughed. “Well, I think he now hates me for it so-“
“Hello, wonderful people!” Garcia called from the railing. “We have a case!”
---
“First victim, Bethany Conlin, was found beaten to death just outside of a small town, Pagosa Springs, Colorado.”
I raised my eyebrows. “Pagosa Springs?”
Garcia looked confused. “Yeah, What is it?”
“Oh um, nothing, it’s just my hometown.” Not much of a home anymore.
“Oh cool! Anyways, a second victim, Cassie Holloway, was found by some hikers by a commonly traveled trail in the woods. Also beaten to death.”
I tried to keep tears out of my eyes. Cassie?
The team quickly talked over theories for a profile. The only thing I heard was, “Wheels up in 30.”
Before we left, Spencer and Morgan both pulled me aside.
“What’s wrong?” Spencer asked quietly.
“You could barely keep it together in there.” Morgan added.
I took a deep breath. “Cassie... She was my best friend until I moved away. She was the sweetest...” I squeezed my eyes shut to keep the tears from falling. “And she was murdered.”
They were both silent.
I opened my eyes, anger replacing my sadness. “Let’s catch this son of a bitch.”
---
Hotch gave assignments on the jet. “Rossi, Reid, YLN, go to the ME to find out what you can about the bodies. Morgan, JJ, you guys go to the dump sites. Prentiss and I will interview the families.”
“Actually, Hotch,” I interjected. “Could I possibly interview the families? Um... Cassie Holloway was my good friend, and I’m from Pagosa Springs.” I looked down at the file in my lap. Cassie’s file.
Hotch considered it. “That would be alright. They might share more with you if they already know you. And YLN?”
“Yes?”
“I’m sorry for your friend.”
---
Cassie’s parents looked exactly the same as they did when we were 10. Her mom had dark red hair, and her dad was bald. I used to think they looked scary, but now they just looked sad.
I cleared my throat when I walked into the room. “Um, Mr. and Mrs. Holloway? I don’t know if you remember me but-“
Her mother gasped. “YFN? Is that you?”
I gave a small smile. “Yes, I’m here to catch Cassie’s killer. Um, have you seen her recently?”
Her father sniffled. “We saw her two days ago. We had dinner together, and... she was fine.” He erupted into a fit of tears.
It hurt me in my chest to see this kind man that had practically raised me until I was twelve so broken up like this. “Did she mention anyone that had bothered her? Or someone she might’ve rejected? I know she’s a local bartender, maybe someone there?”
Her mother shook her head, rubbing her husband’s back. “You know Cassie... everyone loved her.”
It was true. Cassie was one of the kindest souls I’ve ever come across. “One last question... does she know Bethany Conlin?”
Both of her parents looked at each other, then back at me. “Yes,” her mother breathed. “They were sorority sisters together in college.”
---
“Hotch!” I called across the station. “Bethany and Cassie were sorority sisters in college. They both went to Colorado State, they hadn’t spoken in a couple years, but it couldn’t be a coincidence that they both ended up dead in a week's period.”
“This makes it highly likely that whoever is doing this went to college with them.” Hotch pulled out his phone.
“What do you need, bossman?” Garcia called over speakerphone.
“Garcia, Bethany and Cassie were sorority sisters in college. Can you find any incidents with the two of them that stand out or could be a motive?” I didn’t realize how fast my heart was beating until I stopped talking.
“Hmmm... nothing jumps out, but I’m going to investigate further! Goodbye, my lovelies!”
As soon as we hung up, the local sheriff approached us. “We just got an anonymous tip saying a third body would be found in an old abandoned bar on the edge of town,” the sheriff paused, and looked at me. “The caller said you had to be the one to find it first. Otherwise, and I quote, ‘there will be more than beaten bones next time’.”
I took a deep breath. “Let’s go.”
---
The abandoned bar smelled like stale beer and mildew. I felt an odd chill when I entered the door, Hotch and Emily waiting outside.
Pulling out a flashlight, the eerie bar creaked with every step I took. It wasn’t until I saw the pair of feet lying on the ground that made me stop, the bar falling silent.
Slowly rounding the corner, I saw the torn clothing and broken body of a young man, probably the same age as me. I looked at his pale hands, and then I saw the ring. A plain gold ring that read ‘be strong for me’.
“Oh my god,” I whispered.
My feet couldn’t carry me fast enough out of that bar. I ran outside, desperate for fresh air, and I heard shouts calling after me.
“YLN!” Prentiss chased me until I stopped to lean against the car, my head in my hands. “Hey, you’re hyperventilating!”
I slowed down my breathing enough to gasp a few words. “The body... a ring... my fault... oh my god, this is my fault!”
Prentiss pried my hands away from my face. “What is happening?”
“The body,” I gasped. “He was my brother... and I know who did this.”
---
The team all gathered at the station. I hadn’t spoken to anyone yet except for Hotch and Prentiss, and after hearing my story, they didn’t have any doubts about who it was either.
Spencer walked into the quiet room the police had given us, looking at me with a worried face. I nodded at him, just to say it was going to be okay.
“Growing up, my father owned a large share of an oil company. When he died when I was very young, he left my mom everything he owned, which was a lot.” I thought back to when Mom first got the call about the car accident. My dad and his mistress were killed on impact. “We moved here to Pagosa Springs, a fresh start. But my mom was so upset about my dad’s death that she started drinking. Excessively.”
I took a deep breath. “She would scream and shout and disappear for days at a time. We’re twins, my brother and I. We were eleven. I was about to graduate high school at a very young age and I didn’t know what to do. When I went off to college for the first few years and stayed with my aunt, my brother would call me every time Mom was off drinking. When he was a teen, he got into drugs and pills and anything he could get his hands on. And I wasn’t there to help him.”
“But Cassie was.” Hotch guessed.
“Yeah, she's the reason my brother got clean. They fell in love and both went to Colorado State together. She gave him a ring to wear whenever he started to have cravings again. One time, Cassie called me when I was at MIT, saying her friend, Bethany, was raped and couldn’t go to the police because her parents would stop paying her tuition for ‘causing a scene’... she said my brother, YBN...” my voice broke for the first time. “She said YBN beat the crap out of Bethany’s rapist. His name is Kenny Rogers, and from what I’ve heard, he was a sketchy dude with a massive temper even back then.” I closed my eyes. “Anyway, that’s most likely who our unsub is.”
“You’re YBN’s sister,” Spencer said. “After having his ego blown massively, Kenny probably carried that hatred for anyone that was related to YBN. And YFN has been in newspapers, articles, even on TV. Something probably caused Kenny to snap recently, his trigger, and he felt the need to hurt YFN somehow to really get back at YBN.”
Hotch called Garcia. “Garcia, we need all addresses on a Kenny Rogers.”
---
Kenny Rogers was guilty. No doubt. When the team went to his place, they found pictures of all the victims and Kenny tried to run whenever they broke down the door.
I stayed behind at the station. I couldn’t trust myself to not shoot Kenny on sight for what he had done.
“Hey, Hotch?” I asked when they got back. “Could I take a few days off? To take care of things...with my brother?”
Hotch gave me a pat on my shoulder. “Take as much time as you need, just let me know when you’re coming back.”
“Of course sir, and thank you.”
I made sure to pull Spencer aside before he left. “Thanks for... um, helping me explain... earlier. I was worried they wouldn’t think it was connected, and you already knew all that stuff about my childhood.”
“Of course, you know I would do anything for you.” Spencer stood there for a minute, then suddenly embraced me tightly in a hug. That wasn’t something he did very often, or at all. “I just...”
I chuckled slightly, wrapping my arms around his waist. “I know, Spencer.”
---
After the team took off on the jet, I checked into the local hotel. It was nice and rustic, homey.
I called Spencer when I had settled in.
“Hey, how are you doing?” He asked. “The team seems to be getting more and more impressed by you with each case.”
I gave a snort. “Well, that’s a relief. I was scared after my life story they would see me as some kind of kicked puppy. And, I’m okay Spencer. At least, I’m going to be.”
“What will you do about your brother?”
I felt a melancholy smile on my lips, playing with the loose threads on the blanket. “He’s been cremated, and tomorrow I’m scattering his ashes in the mountains. It’s what he always wanted. I hadn’t spoken to him in years, but he always wanted to come back home, and I couldn’t wait to get away.”
Spencer was quiet for a while. “Hey, YFN, I just wanna tell you... you’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. You went off to college and still took care of your brother at age twelve, you took a gap year to take care of your sick mom, and in your first few months at the BAU you’ve been able to impress every single team member... and they aren’t easily impressed.”
Happy tears pricked my eyes. “Well, um... that was one of the sweetest things anyone’s ever said to me. And Spencer?”
“Yeah?”
“Thank you... so much.”
Spencer cleared his throat, like he was debating about saying something. “Um, YFN?”
“What is it?”
His voice lowered, like he didn’t want the team to hear. “In college, I... I was wanting to propose to you.”
My heart seemed to flutter and butterflies pounded in my chest. “Um... you’ve never told me that before. Why didn’t you... do it?”
He thought for a few moments. “Well, you were going to take care of your mom, and I was going to the FBI academy... also, I didn’t think you would say yes.”
“Wow... um, I don’t really know what to say.”
“Yeah, me neither.”
I gave a slight giggle. “You, speechless? I never would’ve guessed.”
Spencer laughed. “Well, goodnight, YFN. I’ll see you soon.”
“Goodnight, Spencer.”
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Knights of the Night (Epilogue)
Epilogue
Ch 1, ch 2, ch 3, ch 4, ch 5, ch 6, ch 7, ch 8, ch 9, ch 10, ch 11, ch 12, ch 13, ch 14, ch 15, ch 16, ch 17, ch 18, ch 19, ch 20, ch 21, ch 22, ch 23, epilogue
https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139240/chapters/71536491
pairing: Jungkook x oc
genre: vampire au, college au, twilight, romance
word count: 1,587
warnings: blood (obviously), kidnapping, child kidnapping, needles, France, human trafficking
notes: vampires, vampire au, college, college au, so many twilight references, blood, needles, kidnapping, children, homelessness, dance, ballet, flashbacks, romance, slow burn, probably no smut, idk yet tho, France, French things, attempted genocide, inaccurate French history, bisexual main character, @strawberriewithchocolate-blog @mozy-j @daechwitad-2 @zobadak @fallenstar-7
summary: Catalina starts college in a small town all the way across the country. She doesn’t know anyone and isn’t exactly looking for friends. She just wants to focus on dance. But when she meets fellow dance major, Jimin, and adventurous, fellow freshman, Jungkook, Catalina ends up discovering a whole new side to the small college town; one that is dangerous but oh so enticing...
Catalina took one last glance around her room before heading downstairs. She heard Jimin’s voice, which put a wide smile on her face. Him and Taehyung were back on time, which meant they’d be able to come with everyone that afternoon.
She ran down the stairs, taking them two at a time, before landing in the foyer. Taehyung and Jimin were taking their shoes off and setting their bags down, chatting with Hoseok and Namjoon. Catalina threw her arms around Jimin and asked him, “How was your trip?”
He pulled away and smiled wide, his eyes disappearing. “It was incredible. I’ll tell you all about it later.”
“I can’t wait,” Catalina said, smiling just as wide.
“We were gonna go to the beach later,” said Hoseok. “Do you want to go with us?”
“Sure! I think we’ll mostly just relax, though,” said Taehyung.
“Here, I’ll help you unpack so you can get yourselves settled before we go,” Hoseok said, following them back out the car. Catalina left the foyer and went into the kitchen. The kitchen was beautiful, so different from when she first came into this house. They had it remodeled, actually, they had a lot of the house remodeled. Everything was a bit more modern, but their antiques were mostly still around. Even Yoongi redid his bedroom, saying he didn’t want to sleep in a rat’s nest anymore. He made an incredible amount of money on the antiques in that room, the museums practically begging him to part with them.
The light was on in the kitchen when Catalina entered, which meant Jungkook was in there. Sure enough, he was standing in front of the fridge, staring into its contents with bleary eyes. His hair was a floof on top of his head and his pajamas were rumpled. Catalina came up behind him and wrapped her arms around him. She laid her head on his back and listened to the steady rhythm of his heart, something she’s become so very familiar with.
“What will you have for breakfast?” she asked. He grunted in response, shifting some containers around on the shelf. He finally chose a container of leftovers and cracked the lid to sniff it. He sniffed it three times before deciding it was edible and dumping it on a plate. While it was heating up, he turned and opened his arms, letting Catalina settle into him.
“Are you gonna surf today?” he asked.
“You asked me that yesterday,” Catalina said with a giggle.
“And you said no yesterday!” he said. She could feel his laughter in his chest where her head was resting.
“Maybe,” she said. “I heard the teaching process is very hands on.”
He chuckled and said, “Where did you hear that?”
“Hm, I don’t remember,” she said. The microwave beeped and Jungkook let Catalina go so he could grab his food. She pulled a blood bag out of the fridge and sat down with him at the dining table, sipping at her drink while he ate.
“What are you guys doing up so early?”
Yoongi wandered into the kitchen with messy hair and tired eyes.
“It’s beach day!” Jungkook said, much more awake now that he was eating. “You’re coming, right?”
“No.”
“Yoongi, you don’t have to swim or surf or anything,” said Catalina. “You can just sleep on the beach. Or drink wine on the beach. You need the fresh air, you’ve been at your piano for days. Plus, I think everyone would really like to spend some time with you.”
“When are you going?” he asked.
“We’re heading out around eleven,” said Catalina.
“Oh. I’ll think about it,” Yoongi said. “Are Taehyung and Jimin back yet?”
“Yes, they just walked in a little while ago,” said Catalina.
“Good,” he said. “I’m glad their flight wasn’t delayed.”
With that, he left the room.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
During the drive to the beach, Catalina made sure to sit in the back of the Jeep with Jimin.
“So, tell me about the trip,” she said, a giddy smile on her face.
“Ah, it was perfect!” said Jimin. “I’ve never been to Arizona before so I didn’t really know what to expect about the weather or anything. It really is very dry there. The heat is like heat from an oven. And the places we saw were so beautiful. We camped in the Grand Canyon and… it was insane. The Grand Canyon is insane. Everything was so incredible. And at night, you could see the stars perfectly. When we camped in Death Valley, there was absolutely no light pollution for miles so the sky was amazing. We saw the Milky Way.”
“Oh wow,” Catalina sighed.
“You and Jungkook should go next summer,” said Jimin. “You’d love it.”
“Yeah, I would do that,” said Catalina. “That sounds like a lot of fun. We need to make up for our last trip.”
They sat in silence for a while before Jimin said, “I can’t believe we’re going to France in two weeks.”
“I know!” said Catalina. “I can’t believe it! This is something I’ve been waiting for my entire life and I’ll finally be able to do it!”
“Is your solo ready?” Jimin asked.
“I mean, as ready as it’ll ever be,” said Catalina. “You know how it is.”
Her and Jimin had both taken the winter semester off to recover from their transformations and to get used to their new bodies. Catalina used that time to choreograph a solo worthy of an audition in France. By now, the beginning of summer, she had perfected it as much as she could.
“I’m going to the studio to practice it tomorrow,” said Catalina. “You should come with me. You can help, or just watch. You haven’t seen it finished yet.”
“What time? I’m babysitting tomorrow,” said Jimin.
“Oh right! You’re doing that every Tuesday now, aren’t you?” said Catalina.
Jimin nodded and said, “Yep, Caleb’s sister has dance on Tuesdays, so I’ll just be there for a few hours.”
“Are you still gonna do that when classes start? You’re signing up for classes in the fall, right?” she asked.
“Yeah, I don’t want to fall behind any more than I am,” said Jimin.
“Me too,” said Catalina. Then she smiled and grabbed Hoseok’s shoulder over the driver’s seat. “And you’re starting classes with us too, aren’t you?”
He laughed and said, “I sure am!”
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The weather was perfect, and according to Jungkook, the water was ideal for beginner’s surfing. They got set up on a relatively empty patch of the beach. The family closest to them had a few kids, who were building a sandcastle near the water. It was Monday, so thankfully there weren’t too many other people there. Yoongi laid out a beach blanket and immediately laid down, covering his face with his sun hat. He was almost completely covered, with long sleeves and long pants. Catalina figured he was trying to protect his pasty white skin.
Jimmy K settled down beside Yoongi with a thick book. Catalina had assumed he would be surfing with them that day; he seemed like the type to surf. Jimin and Taehyung lathered themselves in sunscreen and took their spots near the cooler, relaxing and watching the fun just like they promised. After shedding her shorts and tank top to reveal her new white bikini, Catalina lathered herself in sunscreen, since she could already feel herself burning. Then she grabbed her board and met the others down by the water.
At some point, the family next to them left and they were left to themselves on their private stretch of beach.
Catalina, Namjoon, and Hoseok kept their eyes on Jungkook and Jin, who were teaching them the basics of how to surf. They all had boards, rented ones for the newbies, and Catalina was excited to get out on the water. With every glance at the ocean behind her, she felt nervousness twist in her stomach. She had to keep reminding herself that she wouldn’t drown and she wouldn’t get hurt. Her body was stronger than it used to be, which was something she still hadn’t completely gotten used to.
They were standing on their boards, Jin showing them how to position their feet. Jungkook went to each of them, giving them pointers or fixing their positions. He stepped onto Catalina’s board behind her and nudged her right foot forward a bit, hands on her bare waist.
“Just keep your knees bent and your legs spread a bit more,” he said. His bare chest was pressed up against her back.
“…And if you guys fall off, just let the current roll you until it’s settled, then come up,” Jin was saying. “But you guys won’t drown anyway, so no harm.”
“Right, no harm,” Jungkook said, his hand sliding down to her butt.
She giggled and turned around to face him.
“Did Hoseok get this treatment when you helped him?” she asked with a wide smile on her face.
“He would probably like that,” Jungkook said with a laugh. “But this is only reserved for my favorite students.”
“Ooh, so Namjoon got this too,” Catalina said, winding her arms over his bare shoulders. He threw his head back and laughed. This was her favorite song. The sounds of his laughter, the waves hitting the beach, The seagulls calling overhead, his heart beating in his chest.
Catalina leaned up to press her lips against his, the board wobbling in the sand beneath their feet.
She never wanted this song to end.
#bts#bts fanfction#knights of the night#kim namjoon#kim seokjin#Jimmy K#min yoongi#jung hoseok#park jimin#kim taehyung#jeon jeongguk#namjoon#rm#jin#captain kirk#yoongi#suga#jhope#hobi#jimin#taehyung#v#jungkook#crystalstar
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Never alone - Chapter Nine - Soulmate AU
AO3
Previous - Here - Next
Master List
Hi everyone! I wanted to thank everyone who likes, reblogs and leaves some comments on my story here! It really motivates me to write and I love interacting with you guys! So thank you!
When I started this story, I thought it would be a short one, like 10 chapters at most, and here we are at chapter 9 and I can see it will be more than 10 chapters... Don’t know how long it will be though.
I think you may have been looking forward to a scene in this chapter... Enjoy !
As she made her way to breakfast with Alya — who didn’t see her left eyes when Marinette made her way from her bed to the bathroom, thanks God — the designer didn’t expect to be literally kidnapped by two of her childhood friends. And from the shock on the reporter’s face, she didn’t expect it either.
“What? Nino, Kim?! What are you doing? Let Marinette go!”
It only made Kim laugh as he tightened his grip on the Eurasian girl’s arm.
“No can do Césaire! It’s time for l’équipe des bras cassés — the team of broken arms — to have a reunion! You’ll get her back tonight! Bye Alya!”
And without waiting for an answer from the journalist, the two boys led her to the hotel’s restaurant, forcing her to sit with the two of them at a small table.
Nino, Kim, and her were childhood friends. They knew each other since they were in diapers and, to her dismay, they grew apart as they grew up. They only grew closer again after they were in the same class again back in middle school, when Alya and Adrien joined the school. She was very happy to rekindle her friendship with the two boys, she had missed them, especially when Chloé decided that bullying her was a good way to pass the time.
L’équipe des bras cassés was a name that one of their professors gave their little group when they were still in primary school. She didn’t know what the name stuck with time. Kim kept calling themselves that way, even if it wasn’t a very flattering name in the first place.
Since they rekindled their relationship, the two teens sometimes “kidnapped” her that way, to the shock of the person she was with at the time. It was the first time they took her away from Alya like this, so she could understand her shock to their behavior.
“So, DC. What are you hiding?”
Marinette froze. One of the inconveniences of their friendship — the very same disadvantage of her friendship with Alya — is that after all their years, they knew her too well, just as she knew them too well. They could read her like an open book and there was no hiding anything from them.
But she could still try.
“What do you mean?”
“Just spill, Marinette.” laughed Nino.
Or not. The fashion designer sighed.
“Why do you even think I’m hiding something?”
“You’re oddly happy, DC.”
“I’m always happy.”
It looked like she was having the conversation she had with Rose all over again.
“Yeah, but you’re not just happy. You’re the same kind of happy that Nino was when he started dating Alya. Or like me when I started dating Ondine.”
“Oh, how is she?”
There was a time before Kim started dating his fellow swimmer, where she thought that he and Alix would one day become a thing. After asking them out of curiosity, Alix told her that she was very much aro-ace and Kim never saw her in such a light.
She was very happy for her friend when he started dating Ondine, even if she wasn’t her soulmate. As of right now, the athlete didn’t know anyone who could be linked with the tattoo he was born with.
“She’s fine, thank you. But don’t try to switch topics.”
Marinette grimaced. She was genuinely interested in Ondine’s well being, but she had hoped that Kim would rant a bit about her and then forget about her.
Thanks God, Nino saved her from having to spill anything.
“You know that if you tell us to mind our own business, we will drop it right? We’re curious but we won’t force you to tell us anything if you’re not comfortable.”
The blue-eyed girl smiled.
“Thanks. It’s just… I can’t tell you now, and I probably won’t be able to tell you for a while yet, but it won’t be a secret forever.”
The Asian boy clapped his hands.
“Alright! You just had to say that, DC! We’ll drop it until you’re ready. It’s just… It’s a secret that makes you happy, right? I mean..; If you were in trouble or anything, you know that you can ask for our help?”
Marinette gave him a one side hug, happy that her friends cared about her.
“Of course I know. Don’t worry, it’s a secret that makes me happy, and I will be even happier the day I will share it with you guys.”
“Great! Now, will you guys be there at my next competition?”
The next few days passed in a blur for Marinette. They were already on their last day in Gotham and she didn’t really want to go back. They would take the plane back to Paris the next day.
She had spent every night with Robin, learning a few moves of martial art. She had seen his rude and cynical side and took it in stride. After dealing with Chloé for years, and then dealing with Lila, she could take Robin. Especially since he wasn’t being mean, just brutally honest. But she needed him to be if she wanted to progress. He was still very patient with her and she appreciated it.
She got used to seeing him every day and while they could video call when she would be back in Paris, it wouldn’t be the same.
She will miss him.
“Hey, Marinette, are you with me?”
The girl focused on the voice calling her, seeing Tim looking at her, obviously worrying.
“Ah, sorry I was lost in my thoughts.”
“I could see that.” he laughed. “I was just saying that it’s time for lunch. You should go find your friends, I’m meeting with my father and my brother.”
“Oh, of course!”
In the past few days, Tim has been a great help in her project for her own business. They had worked on fictional businesses until she understood well how to make a business plan before moving on to her own business. She had a notebook almost full of plans for the MDC company.
A very small company of one person, but a company nonetheless in the eyes of the law.
She would have to create a website when she was back in Paris, she thought. She could probably ask Max for his help. And ask him what his prices were.
Once again lost in her thought, she didn’t notice the man in front of her as she left Tim’s office until she collided with him.
“Oh, I’m sorry!”
“You’re early, Damian.” said Tim behind her. Somehow, she could hear the smirk in his voice.
She felt more than saw the boy froze. She took a step back, giving him more space and looked up at his face.
Damian was a boy around her age with black hair styled in an undercut. He had tanned skin and green eyes that looked familiar.
“Oh, you must be Tim’s brother.”
Damian nodded.
“I’m Marinette!” she extended her hand and he shook it briefly. “I’m Tim’s intern for the week.” she smiled.
“Damian Wayne.” he introduced himself.
The co-CEO of Wayne Enterprises put a hand on his intern’s shoulder.
“You will have to excuse him, Marinette, Damian is a bit shy in front of strangers.” He smirked.
The glare the younger boy threw at his older brother could freeze hell.
It did make her freeze.
“Careful, Damian, you’re scaring Marinette here.”
The youngest Wayne flinched, dropping his glare.
“I apologize.”
“No, no, it’s okay. I should head to lunch anyway. It was nice meeting you!”
The young girl waved at them as she left them behind.
She couldn’t help but wonder if she had seen Damian somewhere before.
After Marinette left, the glare returned to Damian’s eyes.
“What the hell, Drake.”
Tim put his hands up as if to show him that he was no threat to his younger brother.
“Hey, now. It wasn’t my fault. And honestly, you didn’t have to glare like that, it’s your own fault that you scared her.”
Damian felt a huge satisfaction as his brother didn’t manage to dodge his kick to the knee.
He turned around, scoffing.
“Hurry up, would you? Father is waiting for us.”
Marinette was sad when the clock struck at 5 pm. During the week, she grew attached to Tim. When they weren’t talking business, they grew to know each other. He would talk about his brothers and his stories about them always made her laugh and made her longing for siblings stronger than ever before. They would talk about their likes and dislikes too and the Parisian really liked Tim as a person.
So, yes. She was sad that she won’t be able to see him again after that.
Tim closed his notebook, looking at her.
“Well, that’s the end of it. It was a pleasure working with you Marinette.” he said as he stood up.
She stood up too, extended her hand.
“Thank you for everything, Tim. I’ve learned so much with you and it was so much fun! I can’t thank you enough.”
The young adult smiled, pushing her hand away.
“Come on, don’t be so stiff. Give me a hug.”
She beamed and did just as he said.
As they broke the hug, the second youngest Wayne handed her a business card.
“Don’t be a stranger. If you got any questions or if you just want to talk, text me or call, alright?”
He grinned and ruffled her hair as she took the card.
“I’ll walk you out.”
As usual, Robin as at her hotel room’s window at eleven sharp, handing her his cape before taking her to the roof.
They sparred a little and Damian taught her the basics of a new move but they didn’t spend as much time on it as they used to.
Soon, they were on the edge of the roof, their legs hanging as they talked of nothing and everything.
The sadness came back for Marinette.
“I’ll miss you, you know?”
Robin looked at her, silent.
“I got used to seeing you every day and… well… I really like you.”
She blushed, not believing how bold she was. She hadn’t planned to say that and she cursed her mouth for moving faster than her brain could think.
“I guess I’ll miss you too.”
The French girl scoffed.
“You guess?” she raised an eyebrow.
“You know what I mean.”
She did. In the two weeks they spent in each other’s company, Marinette learned that Robin struggled with expressing his feelings. When he said that he “guessed that he will miss her”, she knew that he meant that he will miss her too.
The vigilante took something out of his utility belt, handing it to her.
“Here, it’s for you.”
She took the piece of paper, unfolding it to discover a drawing of her and Robin.
She gasped as she saw it.
“Thank you.” she breathed.
A few days earlier, she had told him that he was a shame that they couldn’t take a picture together. Too much risk of someone seeing it on her phone or something. A drawing, though… She could hide it somewhere in her room where no one but her would find it.
It moved her that Robin would do something like that for her.
She could feel him shift beside her, tugging slightly at her hood.
When she looked at him, he was closer than he was before.
She couldn’t help her blush as she noticed that he was looking specifically at her lips.
His lips were suddenly very attractive for her too.
“Can I…” he hesitated a little and she looked directly into his eyes. “Can I kiss you?” he whispered.
“Please, do.”
She met him halfway, his lips capturing hers in a soft kiss that put butterflies on her stomach.
One hand still holding the drawing, she put the other on his jaw, deepening the kiss while keeping it chaste.
Kissing Robin, while giving her butterflies in her stomach, wasn’t like fireworks.
No… It was like coming home.
And while he didn’t tell her with words that he liked her too, this kiss spoke for him.
They spent the rest of the night talking and kissing — some kisses a little less innocent than the first one but they weren’t making out — until it was almost four in the morning.
As Robin decided to take her back to her room, Marinette started to take the cape off.
Robin’s hands stopped her though.
“Keep it.”
“What? But it’s your-“
“Just keep it, damn it.”
Marinette could see the tips of his ears go red and she beamed at her.
“Okay. Thank you.”
She took his face in her hands and gave him a soft, lingering kiss.
She didn’t want this night to end.
“Text me when you’re back in Paris safe, alright?”
“Alright.” she breathed. “I’ll see you… sometimes, I guess?”
His thumb caressed her cheek and she leaned into it.
“I’ll see if I can visit you sometimes.”
With one last kiss from Robin and farewells, he took her back to her room, lingering a little at her windows before leaving.
Marinette sat on her bed, seeing Tikki awake on her pillow. She unconsciously put her hand on her lips, her fingers tracing them.
Tikki gave her a knowing look with a smirk.
“Oh, shut up.” Marinette laughed silently.
She hoped that she would see Robin again soon.
Tag List:
@bigpicklebananatree @animegirlweeb @crazylittlemunchkin @northernbluetongue @cutechip @justafanwarrior @iloontjeboontje @resignedcatservant @maribat-is-lifeblood @i-like-fairytail-and-stuff @toodaloo-kangaroo @mikantsume @dast218 @amayakans @zestyzealot @lunarwolfspn @corabeth11
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Beta AU - Main story, Chapter 5, deadly life (Part 5)
Note of the author: Guys, gals and pals following this story, chapter 5 is finally coming to an end.
Chapter 5: An oath to one’s lost humanity - Deadly life
...
He's...
He's dead.
Rantaro is dead.
Why was he still crying? Why was he still so afraid?
This was the fifth execution he was witnessing. Why did this one feel so different? So heartbreaking? So...
... Personal?
Shuichi couldn't discern what was in front of him, his vision blurred by the tears and the overwhelming dark thoughts his mind had been drowning him in for days.
Before he knew it, his knees gave out. He felt a few tears fall, letting his view clear enough for him to notice he was on the checkered floor of the courtroom.
The violinist couldn't hear anything that was happening next to him. Were any of them crying? Wailing? Holding each other into their arms?
So much he couldn't focus on.
"He... Rantaro..."
Shuichi didn't even realize he was saying this out loud.
His view slowly became hazy again due to the non-ending tears flowing on his cheeks.
The sound of his heart racing was loudly echoing in his head.
But the devastating thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a heartwrenching cry.
Miu dropped to the ground as she screamed her lungs out, wailing the loss of the one they had all trusted. The one who became a role model for her and helped her become the person she was now.
The one she had cared so much about, even more than the rest of them.
Although Shuichi could not pay full attention to it, Kaito and Kokichi went by her side to comfort her.
"Why? Why did it have to be this way?! Why didn't he trust us with this?! Why did he decide that carrying us without any sort of help was the right thing to do?! Why didn't he think he deserved our recognition for helping us?!"
"I don't understand..."
She sobbed, hands gripping her head.
"I don't... I don't understand anything at all..."
...
Shuichi was still frozen.
Why indeed?
Why did he deny their gratefulness for the actions he had done?
And of course, was still lingering the never-answered question he had asked himself so many times already...
... What was madness and what was reality?
The thin line that was so clear to him had been reduced to shreds over the trials, the deaths, and their suffering.
A crazy and unbelievable world they had learned to accept, and then was proven to be even crazier than they had all first thought.
...
He could feel Kirumi's tall figure next to him still staring at the black screen.
Shuichi barely heard the sound of her heels approaching him.
He couldn't even raise his head to look at her.
To his surprise, she set a knee down next to him, putting a hand on his shoulder. "... Are you okay?"
A low voice that reeked repressed sorrow.
A simple question with a simple answer.
...
He doesn't know what took over him.
Before he realized what he was doing, the violinist had wrapped his arms around her, head buried in her chest. A grip stronger than he ever had on anyone in the entirety of this horrible game.
Was he so starved for comfort that his first reflex was to childishly clutch the person offering it?
What was he thinking? Why was he clinging to the trained killer who had the strength to throw him across the room?
Hadn't he had learned his lesson back then?
Had madness consumed him as well?
...
Kirumi didn't push him away, though.
After some time, she hesitantly placed her hands on his back, hugging him back without complaining.
He couldn't even find the courage to mutter a word. He could only cry his eyes out, shaking in her arms.
Shuichi didn't know how much time they would all spend mourning the slow death of their symbol of hope, in a wordless room filled with the sobbings and the cries of the ones fate had cursed.
Sixteen at the beginning, five alive as of now.
Eleven had perished under the despair of murderers and brutal executions.
He could only wonder why they were the ones still alive.
Why not Himiko? Korekiyo? Tsumugi? Keebo? Ryoma or Rantaro for that matter?
Shuichi kept crying. Life was unfair, and there was no one to blame but their captor.
Or captors, if what Rantaro said was true.
But right now, he couldn't bring himself to focus on theorizing about their situation.
The two were kept in this hug. He could feel Kirumi's rapid heartbeat in her chest. It felt so intimate, so private, and probably the most vulnerable he had ever seen her.
How could they even understand each other? They had lived completely opposite lives. Drastically different experiences that had forged them into the people they are now.
Although...
... The darkness surrounding them may be what was bringing those different worlds together, forcing them to coexist and cooperate to defeat a greater evil.
Worlds slowly decomposing as reality itself wasn't even trustworthy anymore.
Kirumi kept gently petting his back.
There was nothing around him anymore, just the tight embrace of the mercenary...
... And one, single tear falling on his head.
...
...
--
...
Shuichi doesn't know how much time passed before he regained a bit of consciousness and control over himself again.
And when he moved a little, Kirumi immediately gave him some space. She seemed to be at least a bit better now.
They didn't exchange words, and instead, silently helped each other to get back up.
He must be a mess, but at least Kirumi had the decency not to comment on that.
Monokuma was gone, surprisingly.
Miu was still sitting on the ground, looking at the void with eyes reddened by tears that had now dried.
Kaito and Kokichi seemed to have been trying to comfort each other as well.
The violinist swallowed before approaching the three.
"Are you... Okay?"
Kokichi glanced at the grieving Miu. "Hey... We should... We should get out of here."
He was right. This courtroom was only making matters worse.
The street artist rubbed her eyes and took Kaito's hand to get back up.
They looked around the courtroom, which seemed to have fewer lights on than before, like a store that had closed hours ago.
"Monokuma didn't even bother trying to make us leave..." Kokichi muttered.
"Not like he could have done anything." Kaito glanced at everyone. "We're all complete emotional messes."
There was a silence that lasted a few seconds.
Miu slowly started walking towards the exit.
"Let's just leave."
The ride in the elevator was quiet, and Shuichi was somehow grateful the machine kept emitting its loud mechanical noise. At least he could focus on something other than the dark thoughts in his mind.
They stepped outside the shrine. The sun had long gone down by now.
The five last survivors walked back to the dorms, each to their respective rooms.
What was going to happen next?
Would this game even continue? Rantaro might have failed and gotten executed, but he might be right, at least to an extent.
According to him, they could not trust anything they knew. Not themselves, their memories nor their pasts.
But also that this game was now completely devoid of sense and rules. What sort of motive would even incite them to kill anymore?
He could only hope the bear would indeed get bored and stop this massacre once and for all.
...
He closed his dorm room door behind him and fell onto his bed.
He didn't feel like sleeping, but didn't feel like staying awake either.
Shuichi stared at the other side of his room, not even bothering to put on proper clothes to sleep.
...
--
...
*knock* *knock*
He was suddenly taken out of this half-sleeping state when someone tapped on his door.
They could have used the doorbell, but Shuichi guessed they didn't want to make too much noise.
"I'm coming..."
The violinist slowly got up from his bed and opened the door. And here was standing...
Kirumi.
"W-What are you doing here?" he mumbled, rubbing his eye.
She was still in her uniform, and had visibly not tried to rest like he did.
"There's something important I need to address. I'll be waiting for you in the courtyard."
She immediately closed the door and left.
"W-Wait!"
Too late.
What was that about?
He went to the bathroom to splash water on his face.
Shuichi stared at the mirror, but somehow, this reflection didn't feel like his.
"The person you all loved and cherished, Rantaro Amami, the ultimate medic... Never existed."
...
Was he real? Was he nothing but a pale copy of another person?
Could he even call himself Shuichi Saihara anymore?
He could only try to imagine what was on Rantaro's mind all this time.
The violinist shook his head.
Not now.
He put on his shoes and left for the courtyard.
Just as she said, Kirumi was here, alone.
"U-Um... What did you want to talk about?"
"I'll wait until everyone gets here."
Everyone? What was important enough for her to call them here?
He could only wait and see.
None were in the mood for small talk, and that was perfectly fine.
The three other survivors came one by one, Miu being the last to arrive.
They all looked like they had tried to sleep, but were either kept awake by the terror and sorrow they were all feeling, or were waken up by Kirumi herself.
"So? What's the deal?" Kaito asked.
Kirumi crossed her arms, not glancing at anyone in particular. "I wanted to tell this to all of you immediately, but considering your current states, I preferred to let you take a break from this... 'Trial', if we can even call it that way."
Fair enough. But... What was it that couldn't wait until tomorrow?
"I've had this feeling ever since the execution. But to investigate alone would have been selfish and stupid on my part."
The mercenary raised her hand, palm facing them. She tightly gripped her sleeve. "You see..."
She pulled it down, revealing what looked like a strange electronic pin planted in her arm, a tiny smudge of dried blood where the needle was entering her skin.
"... I have a feeling that this case is not over yet."
Shuichi's eyes widened, both in horror and shock.
"W-What the hell is this?!" Kaito yelled. "Why the fuck do you have that in your arm?!"
The violinist could tell this was new. After all, he had seen her bare arms twice before, and she sure as hell didn't have that.
"I'm fairly certain Rantaro is the one who planted it on me."
Miu visibly perked up at the mention of his name. "What does Rantaro have to do with this?!"
"Remember when I grabbed him by the collar earlier?"
Shuichi winced. This moment wasn't the most joyful and pleasant to think about.
"I believe he planted this when he put his hand on my wrist. I didn't think that much of it at the time, but I could feel something in my arm ever since then. And I doubt he would have done this for no reason at all, and more importantly discreetly enough for Monokuma not to notice, or at least comment on that."
What... What else did Rantaro plan for this case?
"B-But..." Kokichi stuttered. "That must have hurt... How didn't you notice him planting it in your arm? I mean... You said you 'believe', like you are not sure..."
Kirumi froze.
...
Her condition.
They still didn't know.
She sighed. "I guess I had to reveal it someday."
"I don't feel physical pain. I never did. Rantaro knew that already, and I believe he took advantage of this to transfer one final message he couldn't allow Monokuma to take away from us."
"YOU WHAT?" Kaito yelled.
Shuichi looked at him. "She's telling the truth... I've seen it for myself."
"Hold on, when??" Miu frowned.
"Uh-
"Now isn't the time." Kirumi interrupted the discussion. "Rantaro must have given me this piece of evidence so we would have one step ahead of Monokuma. If we don't use it carefully, we will waste it."
Shuichi nodded as she watched her putting her sleeve back in place, not bothering to take out the pin. But perhaps it was safer this way.
"I've been thinking about it since the end of the trial, and there is only one place this could be useful in. Follow me."
They glanced at each other, but followed Kirumi without questioning. She must be staying silent so Monokuma wouldn't try to ruin their final investigation on this case.
The group climbed up the stairs of the main building one by one, and she stopped...
... In front of Ryoma's research lab.
This was where the two had prepared their plan without the cameras watching them. And if Rantaro didn't want Monokuma to investigate before them, then it must be the right place.
Once in the lab and after locking the door behind them, they decided to look through everything to find a hint.
But something caught everyone's attention quite quickly.
The locks on the boxes.
They let Kirumi climb there to see if this was indeed the answer.
...
"I believe this has something to do with the boxes, but not this one. However, I do have a theory."
She climbed down and showed them the pin.
On the part that had been outside of her arm was a tiny blue square with several black dots and one single white dot.
"The pin is the key, but it opens only one lock, I think."
Kokichi tried to get a closer look. "Oh! Like the square may be a map of all the boxes and the white dot is the correct one!"
"That could be it."
After figuring out how the map worked, they let Kirumi climb on the box supposedly noted white.
*click!*
The sound of the box being unlocked was loud enough for Shuichi to hear.
"Bingo."
Kirumi climbed inside the box and after a few minutes, she went out.
And in her hand was...
... A camera with one of the anti-electronic bomb magnets on it.
"What is this?" Kokichi asked.
"I mean it's a camera, but... Do you think something important is in here?" Kaito asked.
Kirumi stared at the object. "I have a very bad feeling about this."
But they didn't have a choice. This was the very last hint Rantaro had given them.
And Rantaro's plans, as insane as they were, were able to catch Monokuma by surprise, even by failing.
Was he still helping them from the grave?
The group sat down as Kirumi put the camera in place so everyone could see.
"... Here goes nothing."
She turned the device on.
Two videos were saved. The first recorded video was a minute long and the second was about seven minutes long.
"Perhaps we should watch them by order of recording?" Miu suggested. "I don't know... It's just my guess..."
She seemed to have gained a bit of energy back. Enough to investigate on the legacy Rantaro had left behind.
"First video it is." the mercenary selected it and pressed the play button.
...
-
...
The video started. It was Ryoma's lab- they could recognize the boxes and the signature lighting. It looked like the camera was positioned to film the entrance.
The gadget didn't seem to have been activated by anyone, yet was somehow recording.
But before they could wonder how, someone appeared on the screen.
Ryoma.
"So? Everything is in place?"
Shuichi jumped at the voice of Rantaro.
The medic appeared on the screen with a hacking gun in his hand.
"It's filming. Be careful, we only have one shot."
"I know that already."
Rantaro positioned himself behind the door, and Ryoma disappeared from the field of view right after taking out his own hacking gun.
The medic stared at where Ryoma supposedly was and nodded.
"MONODAM! WE HAVE A QUESTION ABOUT THE RULES!!"
Rantaro yelled probably louder than necessary.
He tightly gripped the gun, finger on the trigger.
...
The door suddenly opened and Monodam walked in.
A beeping was heard- supposedly the electronic bomb.
The two jumped out of their hiding spots, Rantaro kicking the door to close it.
And to everyone's surprise, both had pulled the triggers.
However, something made Shuichi's heart stop.
Rantaro's shot missed, going past Ryoma. And the latter's shot was the one to take the robot down.
Ryoma fired a couple more times as Rantaro nonchalantly walked towards the now dead mascot, not even bothering to help.
"... He's deactivated. We're good."
Ryoma looked up to his partner. "Could you have at least tried to shoot a bit further away from my face?"
"Sorry. At least we're good now, right?"
"Yeah."
...
So many questions ran through Shuichi's head.
Rantaro shrugged. "But hey, the first part is over. I'll let you take care of Monodam while I get to see how Monokuma is going to ruin the exisal hangar assault. I'll report everything to you later on."
"Got it, boss."
Ryoma took out what looked like a remote and then...
...
-
... The video brutally ended.
Rantaro... missed? And more importantly, on purpose?!
Which meant...
Monokuma was wrong. Rantaro was not the culprit of this so-called case.
But... Why didn't he say anything?
Why did he let himself get executed?!
The camera was here with the proof!! Why didn't he defend himself?!
The others were also under the shock of this revelation.
"Rantaro... Didn't do anything...?" Kokichi shakily mumbled.
"Monokuma... You..." Miu muttered. She suddenly slammed the nearby box with her fist. "You fucking bastard!! This was someone innocent you executed!!"
Innocent...
Somehow a part of Shuichi hoped he was indeed the one who killed Ryoma. To think there was a possibility he was executed for nothing...
He didn't even want to think about it.
The little game the judge and the condemned were playing had deadly stakes that meant nothing to either of them.
Now that Monokuma was gone from their group and Rantaro was dead, they could only try to put the final puzzle pieces of this miserable trial together.
Their motives and the rules, the lies and the truth.
Shuichi thought he knew Rantaro by now, but...
Whoever was with them during the trial and on the video felt like a total stranger.
...
"There is a second video. And I have a feeling this will be somehow worse." Kirumi broke the silence, narrowing her eyes at the tiny screen.
They had all realized Monokuma's mistake, and their mistake as well.
But whatever the second video showed couldn't change the truth of the first.
Rantaro was executed either for the wrong reasons or for absolutely nothing.
"Are you guys ready?" Kaito asked.
They exchanged glances and nodded.
Kirumi selected the video and pressed play.
...
-
...
The camera moved slightly as if it was being adjusted.
But on the screen was a scene that immediately made Shuichi stiffen.
A rope. A chair. A white neon light.
This video was about Ryoma's death.
The camera in place, Rantaro moved in front of the lens, checking if everything worked.
"It's recording."
"Good."
Ryoma appeared on the screen.
The two walked towards the chair and rope. Ryoma climbed on the seat and placed the noose around his neck.
...
"So this is it, huh?" Rantaro said. "This is where your story ends."
Ryoma shrugged. "You know it doesn't. Not now, at least."
"Yes, yes, I know. But you're about to die, Ryoma."
...
"... I'm doing this for you guys. You better win, alright?"
"Don't worry. We will."
There was a long silence between the two.
"... So? Shall we proceed?" Ryoma asked.
"Of course."
Rantaro rummaged through one of his inner pockets and took out...
... A small bottle filled with transparent liquid, exactly the one he had tried to drink during his execution.
He handed it to Ryoma.
"Thanks."
The weapons maker opened the cap.
"What on earth did you mix for the smell to be that strong?"
"Do you want the full list?"
"I'll pass."
Ryoma approached the container to his lips, and...
... He drank the entire bottle.
Rantaro took back the empty container, putting it in his pocket.
"This tastes awful."
"Told you so."
Ryoma snickered. "You better win this trial, Rantaro Amami."
The medic didn't seem to react.
He watched as the other soldier seemed to feel nauseous, and not even ten seconds later, he collapsed.
Ryoma was dead.
Rantaro stared at the scene for about a minute.
He then proceeded to snatch the chair from under his feet.
The lifeless body swung for a moment, but stopped moving rather quickly.
This was the exact same horrifying scene they had all discovered earlier.
The medic approached the camera with the chair and sat down.
He stared at the lens, not a single emotion visible on his face.
(BGM)
"If you're watching this, then it means the plan was a success."
"This means that I was both executed and Monokuma failed at being a competent killing game host."
"You see, I spent days preparing this specific poison for the plan. A poison that could act in a matter of seconds and could not be identified through bloodshot eyes, vomited blood or anything else."
"After all, right now, the blood in Ryoma's body is still circulating enough to create the marks around his neck that will make you all think he hanged himself."
"So if everything goes according to plan, Monokuma will have marked his death as either hanging, suffocation, or strangulation."
"But in reality, his death was never related to the rope."
"And if I get executed, this means he would have done so for absolutely no valid reason at all. I didn't disrespect any rules, I didn't kill Monodam, and I didn't kill Ryoma. Which means..."
"... That I am completely innocent in the case of Ryoma Hoshi, the ultimate weapons maker."
"In other words, absolutely everything about this case is nothing but pure lies and inability to take care of a simple suicide. Cause of death wrong, rules broken, innocent executed for crimes they didn't commit..."
"Nothing but pure failure on Monokuma's part."
"You may wonder why I did this. Why we prepared this entire plan. Well..."
"Most of the reasons are what I told you after the trial. About destroying Monokuma's will to continue the game. But there are a few more reasons for my actions."
"Why did I let myself being executed? Why didn't I show the proof with the cameras? Well..."
"I didn't want to."
"I wanted Monokuma to go through his entire thought process only to realize he had been wrong all along and had broken the rules for absolutely no other reason than his incompetence."
He chuckled.
"Isn't that what he loves to do? To get our hopes up and make us fall into a greater despair?"
"So how about we turn the tables for once?"
"Monokuma, you thought you had managed to put an end to our plan, but that was never the case. You fell right into my trap because you always let us do whatever we wanted."
"You miscalculated everything about this."
"Ah, but you guys don't know what I'm talking about exactly."
"The cameras showed him that I was preparing a poison. But this poison was not to end my life on my own terms like he thought I would do in case the plan failed. It was for the plan itself."
"But you may ask, what exactly did I take out of my pocket later on during the execution? Well... If I even managed to do so? The answer is quite simple."
"It was plain water."
"Nothing but still water available in this lab. As stupid as this sounds, any transparent liquid could be mistaken for water and vice-versa. Quite convenient if you ask me."
"Anyway, there is another question that you probably asked yourselves at some point."
"Why wasn't *I* the victim of this case?"
"You see..."
"I was supposed to. I was the one who volunteered to be the victim."
"However, Ryoma didn't let me. He wanted me to live no matter what. And that's when I got a better idea."
"To manipulate Monokuma into killing me."
"Of course, I omitted a lot of details when I explained the plan to Ryoma, or else he wouldn't have accepted to help me in this. I told him I would show the videos after Monokuma votes me guilty, but being executed was my intention since the very beginning."
"Now does that mean Ryoma's death was useless? Absolutely not. This plan wouldn't have been a success without his sacrifice."
"I do wish he didn't have to die this way, but the end justifies the means, as they all say."
"Although, I'm getting off-topic here."
"..."
"Hey, mastermind."
"Do you see it now?"
"You failed, and I won."
"We both did this little game of play pretend for three weeks and you lost."
"Admit your defeat. There's no point in continuing because everyone has already realized by now how pathetic this shitshow really is."
"And even if you don't immediately give up, everything will end soon enough."
"..."
"... Well, I do have one last thing I want to say to you, asshole."
Rantaro smiled and raised the middle finger.
"Get fucked, mastermind."
...
-
...
Shuichi couldn't believe his eyes.
Rantaro... He had won.
He was exactly where he wanted to be.
In the afterlife after dying as a martyr.
Everything he supposedly felt was nothing but an act to manipulate Monokuma. Lies that had fooled them all, including the mastermind.
This meant that when the investigation had just started, now hours ago, when they looked at the information the bear had given them to investigate...
... The game was already over.
Shuichi couldn't even comprehend how insane this was.
Out of all the things Rantaro could have done to try to defeat Monokuma, this was the last thing he expected him to do... And yet he felt like he should have.
He could somehow hear the deranged laugh of the medic in the back of his head, mocking them all from the world of the dead.
Mocking Monokuma for his mistakes... And perhaps laughing at the absurdity of his own life too.
A man filled with illusory memories, perishing from a meaningless death.
There was not even a single bit of dignity left of him. His whole honor had been shattered to pieces by this killing game.
...
The violinist thought about the conversation they had in the morning.
"I won't be able to die in peace until I'm absolutely sure this game is over."
The way he smiled as he was dying, leaning against the bridge pole with nothing but ashes in his lungs and blood flowing out of his shoulder...
He died satisfied.
He died in peace, knowing his plan was a brilliant success.
An ending that was a tragedy to them, but a blessing to him.
Rantaro... He was really...
... A mastermind of his own.
--
"..."
"Rantaro, you filthy bastard."
"You actually won."
"I should have known what I was getting into when I made this decision back then."
"A move that I now realize cost me my place of 'ultimate mastermind', but a move I do not regret in the slightest."
"You were a wonderful adversary. I am glad I got to fight you in this nonsensical game, although there are a lot of things I do regret. And I do wish you were here for the final trial."
"..."
"I was wrong to underestimate you."
"This whole madness..."
"That's why you started the act, isn't it?"
"To make me lower my guard and think you were not as much of a threat as I thought you would be."
"At first I didn't believe your bullshit thanks to Kiyo. However, the more this game went on, the more I realized you were slowly drowning in your own despair."
"But I made the mistake of thinking you wouldn't be a worthy opponent in those conditions, and thus you managed to pull out a plan even greater than anything I've ever done in this game."
"Congratulations, Rantaro."
"I admit defeat."
"You're observing me from the afterlife, aren't you? In that case..."
"Watch."
"Consider this a promise, or a gift."
"I will finish what you started."
"I am going to put an end to all of this."
"..."
"Oh well..."
"You already made sure this game would end since the very beginning of your crazy plan, didn't you?"
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CHAPTER 9 - Light
Words count: 5 000 +
Warnings: cursing, hints of sex
Author’s note: 1) I am sorry for The Queen references, it was not planned at all but I got carried away
2) Chiara has Ethan saved as “Jonah” in her phone, because she always forgets her phone at nurse’s station and E.R. and Donahue’s, everywhere, and so to decrease the chance of exposing them, it’s Jonah
3) I didn’t check the mistakes yet, so I am sorry for them.
ENJOY!
------------- LIGHT ------------
For the first time ever, their lips met in a kiss that didn’t taste like regrets, doubts and sorrow.
For the first time ever they kissed with hope and promises and happiness.
Their lips met in a newfound feeling of odd security, something that has never happened before, as the threat of regrets always hung over their heads. The kiss started out as almost shy, Ethan’s lips brushing Chiara’s ever so softly, afraid of ruining the sacred moment if he allowed his yearning to take a full lead. But soon it was Chiara who opened her mouth slightly, inviting him to make sure that she still tasted like the Chiara he kissed at Mass Kenmore all those months ago.
The concept of time long forgotten by the couple of doctors as they discovered their new normal, kissing until the air around them changed, until the heat their bodies produced was enough for them to finally break the connection. With their cheeks flushed, hair dishelved, the buttons of Ethan’s shirt undone, they looked at each other intensively while catching their breaths.
„I think we should stop here,“ Ethan broke the silence at last.
„Are you already stepping back?“ Chiara asked with a teasing smile, which was supposed to hide her tremendou fear that Ethan actually was stepping back.
He chuckled at the question and took her hands into his, slowly running his thumb along her knuckles.
„I screwed up a lot in the past. I simply want to make things right this time. And taking you here at my couch when two hours ago I didn’t believe you would ever want to forgive me again, that doesn’t feel right. We still have a conversation to make. And I would like to at least make you a dinner before we take the… next step.“
„Good old fashioned lover boy, huh?“ she couldn’t help but tease him again.
„Are you seriously quoting Queen on me now? You know I am Under Pressure.“
„You know Queen lyrics?“ she laughed and decided to continue the little game. „That is, indeed, Miracle.“
„You underestimate me, Rookie. The show must go on.“
„Oh, Ramsey, you have no idea what you’ve gotten yourself into with this little Queen references competition. My dad loved Freddie Mercury. I know every single lyrics. Don’t stop me now.“
„I am afraid I have to. We seriously need to talk. But you are still my Killer Queen,“ he smiled as he kissed her forehead.
He leaned back into to couch, pulling Chiara towards him, until her head rested on his lap and he could play with her hair. Her hands rested in her own lap, fingers nervously fidgeting at the thought of another serious talk. No matter how hard she tried to trust him completely, the little part of her was simply too afraid to do so. Tha little part expected to hear that it was a mistake and they needed to be professional again.
Ethan observed Chiara’s furrowed brows and her slightly shaking hands and how she kept biting her lower lips and he hated himself, knowing that she was this nervous because of him. Because he hurt her and left her and pushed her away so many times, that she couldn’t trust him fully anymore. He hated every part of his own self and he knew he deserved the hate.
„As I said previously, I want to make things right this time, Chiara. Which means that we need to talk even about uncomfortable things and that I want to stand by your side every step of the way and that I never want to hurt you again. Never in my life have I felt this way, not with Marial, not with Harper, never. And honestly, Chiara, it terrifies me. These feelings, I am so scared. I have always believed that I know who I am, that nothing can surprise me anymore and then you walked into Edenbrook and… well, I was fucked. I found out that I couldn’t recall who I was anymore, because I was changing and as a man who hates change, I fought it all I could. Until I could. And I can’t anymore, I can’t fight against you, but this new reality, it still scares me.“
His voice was trembling now, thick with emotion. He wanted to say so much more, he wanted to tell her how sorry he was that she had to deal with this broken piece of man, that he knew he would hurt her again despite his best efforts to not to. He wanted to tell her how much he loved her. So desperately did he wish he could just express how he felt, but all the words got stuck in his throat and so he just stared at the black screen of television in front of him and hated himself even more.
Chiara wasn’t staring at the ceiling anymore, rather watching Ethan’s expressions as he finished his speech. She reached his left cheek with her hand and caressed him softly.
„I am here, Ethan. No matter how scary it gets, I am here, okay? You don’t need to tell me everything now. Or ever, for that matter. I know.“
Finally he looked down at her and the intensity of compassion in her stare made him want to cry.
How did I ever deserve a woman like you?
He cupped her hand on his cheek and leaned into her touch, closing his eyes to compose himself.
Clearing his throat to make sure he wouldn’t actually start crying, he decided to start the uncomfortable conversation.
„I want to be with you, Chiara. With my whole being, I wish to be with you. But your career is only starting and you are more than just brilliant doctor. You are destined to be the best one of your generation.“
He felt Chiara tense in his lap as she opened her mouth to fight him.
„Just let me say this, okay?“ he stopped her before she could say anything. „Being with you is not illegal. It’s not even fobidden and we both know that Naveen would never disapprove of our relationship. It’s unprofessional and probably unethical, but that doesn’t matter. If we decided to go public, it wouldn’t cost you – or me – the job at Edenbrook. And as someone who has worked there for eleven years now, it would hardly affect me anyhow. But you, Chiara, your reputation…“ Ethan ran his free hand through his hair before continuing. „At the moment, everyone at the hospital knows that you are amazing doctor. Fellow residents, nurses, even attendings, they respect you, because you earned it. But if they find out about us, no matter how hard you worked to earn that respect, it will be forgotten. You will be the resident that’s dating Dr. Ramsey and therefore gets the special treatment. And nobody would give a damn about the fact that I am harder on you than on anyone else. Nobody would care, because rumours are rumours and all the respect that you earned, it would be gone. I don’t care what they have to say about me, but you are young and promising and I can’t let my need to be with you officially stand in the way of your progress. Obviously, I am not letting you go either and so one of the options is for us to be in a secret relationship until your residency is over.“
Chiara raised her eyebrow at him and asked: „One of the options? I don’t think there are any other options.“
„Of course there are. I get that keeping this a secret will be hard, that it wouldn’t be the relationship you deserve. So if you are not willing to do that, which I absolutely understand, I will transfer into another hospital.“
„What?“ Chiara all but shouted and abruptly sat up, looking at him with wide eyes. „You would never do that. Edenbrook is the best hospital in Boston. It’s your life. You belong to Edenbrook.“
„I like to think that I belong to you, Chiara,“ he smiled. „Yes, Edenbrook has been my life for the past eleven years, but it’s caring about the patients that brings me joy, not the hospital itself. And there are patients in other hospitals in Boston. Nothing in Edenbrook makes me feel as happy as you do, Dr. Ray. Just say a word and I’ll be gone.“
Since when are you such a softie, Ramsey?
„That would be so stupid, Ethan. It’s just a year and half until my residency is over. I think we are both capable of keeping things secret for that long. Iť’s not like we would make out in the waiting room anyway.“
Ethan let out a whole-hearted laugh, tension leaving his shoulders. He was serious when he said that he would leave Edenbrook because of her, but knowing that she didn’t want him to, that she respected his career as much as he respected hers, brought him soothing sense of relief.
„There is one thing, though,“ Chiara said. „I am okay with keeping things secret with most people, but if it’s alright with you, I feel the need to tell my friends. My roommates and Bryce. They are the people I trust with my life and I know that they would never spread the rumours. It would be much easier for me if they just knew, if I didn’t have to make up excuses about where do I spend my evening or a weekend. But only if it doesn’t bother you.“
Ethan shrugged, not surprised by her suggestion. Her friends were her supporting net and ever since the accident, he could see just how much they meant to each other. And for that, he was happy.
„I honestly believe that they already have their ideas about us. If you trust them, then it’s okay by me.“
Chiara smiled at him and raised from his lap, so that she could kiss him. With one hand on the back of his neck she straddled him, her free hand drawing teasing circles on his bare chest. His grip on her hips got stronger and his resolution to make it right this time was slowly decreasing with every swirl of her tongue in his mouth.
„Do you want to stay a night?“ he whispered when he pulled back, his voice raspy.
Chiara laughed softly and shook her head, wanting to ask him if he would cook the dinner now, so that they could finish what has been started.
„Sienna would go crazy with fear if I didn’t come home tonight and I don’t want to tell her I am staying with you through the phone. They all have a day off tomorrow, I’ll tell them at brunch we have planned.“
„Yes. Sure. That’s… reasonable. I am working tomorrow, but I have a free Sunday, so what do you say about me picking you up tomorrow evening, making you a dinner and you staying here for the night and then on Sunday?“
„That definitely sounds like a plan,“ she grinned and crashed his lips with hers once again.
˜
The brunch was reaching its end, all the spinach quiche has been eaten, mini chocolate tarts made by Sienna in the hands of young doctors and Chiara still couldn’t find her courage to tell them. By the look Sienna gave her last night when she got home, Chiara knew that she was waiting for some kind of explanation and as much as she trusted them to be supportive and happy for her, she felt extremely nervous to drop this bomb.
„Guys, I.. uhm, well.. I kinda have to tell you something. I’ve got some news.“
„Are you moving out?“ Jackie raised her eyebrow.
„Don’t tell us you are transferring to Mass Kenmore too,“ Elijah added.
Chiara laughed and looked at Sienna, who – with a smug smile on her face – nodded softly, sign of encouraging her to simply say it.
„No, I am not moving out and I am not transferring. It’s about Dr. Ramsey.“
„What about him? Is he transferring?“ Elijah gasped again, eyes wide with shock.
„You really haven’t gotten past my transferring E, have you?“ Aurora chuckled.
„He is not,“ Chiara took a deep breath. „Last night he gave me a ride home from the party and we had a chance to talk about… lot of things and we decided to give it a shot. To give a relationship a shot, I mean. We have had feelings for each other for some time now and he never wanted us to be more than collegues but now he kinda changed his mind? However, it needs to be a secret until I am an attending, but I needed to tell you because I can’t keep secrets from you and I love you and I just want you to know that I am dating Ethan Ramsey.“
She expected them to be shocked. Maybe to tease her. She expected the long stunned silence she knows from movies. Despite her hope, she even expected them to be angry or to despise her. What she didn’t expect was their soft laughter and Jackie’s question: „Okay, and now the news? I thought you wanted to share some news with us.“
„That is the news!“ Chiara exclaimed, throwing her hands in the air.
„Oh,“ she breathed out and then added. „I think I am saying this for all of us Chiara – coming clear with your feelings and making things official between the two of you, that’s great. Really, good for you. We are happy. But saying that it’s news? Pleaaaase, we all have known for some time now that you two had something going on.“
„She is right,“ Aurora nodded, grinning.
Chiara sat there with her mouth open, looking from one face to another and really, they all simply smiled knowingly, without a sign of surprise or anger.
„We are really, really happy for you, Chiara. You deserve to be happy and so does Dr. Ramsey, I guess,“ Sienna smiled and hugged Chiara tightly.
„But if he ever hurts you, I am going to kick his balls,“ Jackie couldn’t help but add, joining the hug. Soon, they were all hugging and suddenly, it wasn’t about Chiara and Ethan at all, it was about the friends that support each other through thick and thin, it was about the love they shared.
˜
Chiara couldn’t suppress the smile that spread across her face as she read that one text over and over again.
She would swear that Ethan didn’t really have to get back to work and only wrote that so that he wouldn’t have to carry on with the conversation. She could just imagine how hard it must have been for him to write those words to her and was pretty sure that his cheeks blushed the bright pink colours she adored so much.
˜
As he promised, Ethan parked his car outside Chiara’s apartment at six and since all her roommates have already known about them, he decided to pick her up instead of just calling her to come out.
No matter how many times he told himself that it wasn’t such a big deal, that she spent the night at his place already, he still felt incredibly nervous. What if she didn’t like the dinner he would cook? What if she realized that she actually didn’t want to spend her night and Sunday with him? What if she started to feel the same hatred he felt for himself, because he wasn’t capable of telling her how he really felt while looking into her eyes?
Shaking his head abruptly to get the thoughts out of it, he knocked on the door, hoping that it would be Chiara who opened them.
It was Sienna.
„Dr. Trinh,“ he nodded towards her and seeing her expression, he corrected himself. „Sienna. Good evening.“
„Nice to see you, Dr. Ramsey!“ she smiled. „Come in, I’ll go tell Chiara you are here.“
He stepped into the apartment, watching her back as she walked towards Chiara’s room. Before she could step in, she turned at him once again and added: „I am really happy for you two, Dr. Ramsey.“
„Ethan is just fine, Sienna,“ he said, right corner of his lip lifting softly. „And thank you.“
Soon, Chiara stepped out of her room and smiled oh so brightly when she noticed him standing in the hall. Before she approached him, she hugged Sienna quickly and whispered something into her ear, at which Sienna grinned mischievously.
„Shall we?“ he asked as he pressed his lips against her temple. Chiara simply nodded and followed him into his car, suppressing the need to pinch herself to make sure that any of this was real.
˜
After they finished the dinner – Georgian stuffed chicken, which he promised her all those months ago – they found themselves tangled on his couch, glasses of fine wine in their hands. Chiara insisted on talking about work and Ethan insisted on talking about anything but work.
Before they could argue about why they should or shouldn’t talk about work, they weren’t talking about anything anymore, using their lips for much more pleasing activities.
Covering her petite form with his body, Ethan broke the kiss only to continue pressing his lips on her jawline, on the spot behing her left ear that he knew would make her moan and then sucking on her neck gently. His hands roamed her torso under the sweater she was wearing and just as he was about to tuck the sweater up, Chiara opened her eyes and pushed his hands away.
„Don’t,“ she whispered, shame written all over her face.
Ethan’s brows furrowed at the sudden change in the mood, but of course he immediately stopped in his tracks.
„Sure. Yes, I am really sorry, Chiara. I didn’t intend to be inappropriate. I am really sorry.“
„It’s not that, Ethan,“ she breathed out, her voice so small he almost missed what she was saying. „It’s not about me not wanting… you. Just… well, the accident and then the surgery left me terribly scarred. There are hideous scars all over my stomach and some on my chest too and I don’t want you to see how ugly it all is.“
His chest tightened at her words and he caressed her cheekbone so softly she felt like she was making the touch up.
„Oh, Chiara,“ he whispered. „Don’t ever say something like that ever again, okay? Nothing on your body is hideous. Could I see them, please?“
She nodded and closed her eyes as he rolled her sweater up to her breasts, not wanting to see his expression when he’d see how destroyed her body was.
Keeping her eyes shut, she couldn’t tell if he even looked at her at all, but the fact that for a moment there was no movement around her and no sound that would break the heavy silence of the room was enough for her to think of the worst.
He is disgusted by how I look.
The light warmth of his fingers on her stomach made her open her eyes.
Ethan’s gaze, fixed on her abdomen, was so intense and so adoring it brought tears into her eyes. He traced every single one of her scars with his thumb so softly, so gently it almost tickled. After observing her, he lowered his head and put a feather-like kiss on the first scar while whispering „you are beautiful“. Then the second one („and you are beautiful“) and the third one right over her left breast („and you are beautiful“).
„And you are the most beautiful,“ he whispered as he raised his eyes to look into Chiara’s green ones. She had to close them again, overwhelmed by the gentlesness in his voice and his actions.
Returning to kissing her fiercely, Ethan ran his hand up and down her thigh while sucking and biting the soft flesh above her hip.
„That’s going to leave a mark,“ Chiara all but moaned.
„Nobody will see it here,“ Ethan murmured, not concerned about her words at all. „Or will they?“ he added quickly, looking back at her, his eyes dark with lust and also… was it possiblity of jealousy?
Shaking her head, Chiara got rid of her sweater and started to work on the buttons of Ethan’s shirt, not patient enough to be teased without feeling his skin on hers.
Taking a clue, Ethan ceased the movements of his mouth on her hips only to take her into his arms and bring her into his bedroom, so that they could finish what they started in the comfort of his king-sized bed.
˜
Monday morning came all too quickly for their liking and as excited as Chiara was to get back to work, the comfort and security of Ethan’s apartment were enough for her to complain when she had to leave it.
Ethan and Chiara drove to the hospital together, however once they’ve gotten to the parking lot, Chiara decided to leave the car first while Ethan waited some time longer, so that they wouldn’t raise a suspicion. Once seated in the diagnostics office, Chiara sent a quick message to Ethan that it was safe for him to come to work now.
The door opened after a while and in came both male doctors of the team, Ethan’s expression neutral, while Baz Mirani almost jumped of joy when he noticed Chiara behind the round table.
„Oh, my favourite doctor is back! I am so happy you are here now, Chiara, working with those two grumpies without you was a torture!“
„Excuse me?“ Ethan raised his eyebrow at the remark.
„I am happy to be back too, Baz,“ Chiara laughed, ignoring Ethan’s (pretended) offended expression and stood up to hug Baz tightly.
„You still have a cane?“
„Yup. hopefully not forever, though. It’s more an accessory now,“ she grinned.
„Cool!“ Baz exclaimed. „We should call you Dr. House while you have it! Right, Ethan?“
Ethan’s confussion – unlike his offended face – wasn’t an act when he innocently asked: „And why would we do that?“
Chiara and Baz exchanged an amused look at Ethan’s hopeless unfamiliarity with mainstream hospital dramas, while he watched them both with his brows furrowed, knowing too well that they would tease him for it for days.
˜
Weeks turned into months and by March, Chiara felt as if the accident happened years ago. She didn’t need the cane anymore – which made Baz both happy (for her) and sad (because the Dr. House jokes had to stop) – and with the amount of nights she’s been spending with Ethan, even her nightmares have seemed to disappear.
„Dr. Ray,“ Ethan acknowleged her presence as he reached the nurse’s station. „I was about to page you. We have a patient to see.“
Without saying a word, Chiara followed him to the room, listening to the information he was sharing with her: „Ellie Barnes, five years old. Losing weight, severe headaches, stomach cramps. Her mother brought her here this morning with fever.“
With the list of possible diagnoses in her head, Chiara walked into the room, ready to talk to the little girl. However, before she could open her mouth, Ethan approached the bed Ellie was laying in and smiled down at her.
The little gril with wide smile and curly blonde hair, dressed in pink pajamas with Rapunzel on top of the shirt, was hugging her princess doll tightly, while her mother kept stroking her hair gently.
„Hello, Ellie. I am Dr. Ethan and this is Dr. Chiara. We will take care of you while you are here.“
„Are you my prince?“ Ellie asked immediately.
Ethan laughed softly at the proposition, but shook his head.
„I am afraid I might be too old to be your prince, but I could be your knight. What do you say about that? I will be the night that will fight all the bad things that are making you feel sick now.“
„Okay,“ Ellie shrugged. „Knight sounds good.“
„In that case, Princess Ellie, we will need to draw some blood so that we can discover the villain in your body and fight it.“
„Will you hold my hand, Dr. Knight Ethan?“
Kneeling next to her bed, Ethan took her small hand into his huge one and smiled even wider at the princess girl.
„Of course I will. And Dr. Chiara here, she could be the fairy in our story, hm? Well, she will draw the blood and talk to your mom, okay?“
Ellie nodded, hugging her doll even tighter with one hand, while Ethan rubbed the other with his thumb.
„You were pretty good with her,“ Chiara said as they left Ellie’s room to run the tests.
„I am pretty good with all my patients, Dr. Ray,“ Ethan grinned.
„Well, yeah, you are, but you know what I mean. I have never seen you with kid patient before, I guess. It just surprised me to see how natural you were with Ellie.“
„I like kids.“ Ethan shrugged, not knowing how to react to Chiara’s compliment.
And I can never give them to you, she thought bitterly, biting her lip so that she wouldn’t ruin their day by the remark if she said it aloud.
˜
That evening, Ethan found himself sitting on his couch with Jenner’s head in his lap, reading a medical journal, when the comfortable silence of the apartment was disturbed by ringing of his phone.
„Chiara? Is everything alright?“ he picked it up, horror audible in his voice.
„Yes, sure. I am fine. I was just wondering if I could come in tonight?“
„Aren’t Tuesday nights reserved for your roommates?“
„Yeah, but they decided to have a group date night and since Elijah is taking Phebe and Sienna is taking Danny, I can’t bring you with me and I don’t feel like going alone. So, um.. I thought that maybe you wouldn’t mind if I came?“
„Of course you can come. Do you need me to pick you up?“
„Nope. I’ll be there in an hour.“
˜
„Okay Ethan, I need you to tell me what’s wrong. Did I interrupt your peaceful evening? Should I go home?“
Chiara’s been at Ethan’s place for more than an hour now and his mood was only getting worse. Not wanting to talk about it, he left her in the dark, only guessing what was wrong.
„No, don’t go home, please,“ he finally responded. „It’s not about you. Just… argh, I am just so angry.“
„With me?“
„No! With myself. With circumstances. With life.“
„Did something happen at work?“
Ethan sighed, running a hand through his hair. Wearing a gray Henley t-shirt with dark jeans made him look younger, more relaxed and yet, at this very moment, Ethan Ramsey looked simply… defeated.
„After you called me, I had to think about what you said. That you can’t bring me with you because there are people who don’t know about us. And it got me thinking, it made me admit the one thing I’ve been so afraid to admit.“
„What are you talking about?“ Chiara asked gently, taking his hand between hers.
„I am so scared that you will sooner or later realize that you could have so much better than me, Chiara,“ he whispered, voice heavy with fear and vulnerability. „That you deserve so much more. You deserve a relationship in which your man takes you out for a dinner and holds your hand in public and kisses you in the middle of the street. You deserve to be able to bring your boyfriend with you when meeting your friends. You deserve so much more than sneaking around and having dinner at my apartment, making sure that nobody sees us holding hands or being careful to not to stare at each other for too long in the hospital halls, because that would be suspicious. And I can’t give you what you deserve. Lahela could give you that. Aveiro could give you that. Goddamnit anyone could give you that, anyone but me. And I dread the day you realize all of this and leave me. Because neither of us got what we deserved. You’ve gotten much less with me than what you deserve. I, on the contrary, have gotten so, so, so much more with you, than what I deserve. And it’s not fair.“
There was a long silence. All Ethan could hear was his drumming heart in his ears.
„I knew what I’ve gotten myself into when we agreed to give us a try, Ethan,“ Chiara broke the silence at last, her voice barely above whisper. „I know who you are and I am very aware of what we can and cannot be. I am also aware of what I could have with other boys. I am a grown woman, Ethan, I can make my decisions and I realize the consequences of them. And I need you to listen to me now. I want to be with you, Ethan Jonah Ramsey. I would rather sneak around with you and hide in your apartment than hold my hands in public with anyone else. I chose you and I keep choosing you every day. You need to start believing that you are good enough. Not only for me, for everyone. Because you are enough, Ethan.“
The next moment, Chiara felt like she was being crushed by the force with which Ethan hugged her. She could swear she felt his tears moisten the skin under her hair, however before she could confirm her suspicion by looking up at Ethan, he cleared his throat and gently pulled away, standing up from the couch.
„I’ll be right back,“ he murmured and left the living room.
When he got back, he played with his antique phonograph for a while and as the room was filled with gentle tones of one of Frank Sinatra’s songs, he lit up three candles and switched the lights off.
Only then he approached Chiara, still sitting on his couch and with almost shy expression that adorned his face, he asked: „Can I have this dance?“
With a brught smile, Chiara stood up and took his hand, the other one landing on his chest.
„I would never believe that Ethan Ramsey owned candles,“ she teased him.
„In fact, I like candles very much. I enjoy staring into the fire and since this apartment doesn’t have a fireplace, I light up the candles from time to time and just look at them while listening to Vivaldi’s Four Seasons.“
She smiled at the picture forming in her head, Ethan’s relaxed form with glass of whiskey in his hand, softly humming into the tones of violin, thoughtfully looking into the small flame of a candle.
They slowly swayed in the middle of the room, Chiara’s head resting just under Ethan’s shoulder, while he kept kissing the top of her head, his eyes closed.
How did I get this lucky?
The thought ran in Chiara’s head over and over.
What did I do to deserve this? was the one Ethan kept replaying in his mind.
„Thank you. For having me,“ he whispered into her hair.
„Thank you for letting me have you.“
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leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall): a TMA fanfic
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Chapter 19: Martin
It shouldn’t really startle Martin when he falls asleep mid-conversation. After all, it’s been a rather traumatic twenty-four hours, both physically and emotionally. He’s in a decent amount of pain, and he needs rest to heal. He knows all of that, logically. But he’s also never been good at sleeping if there’s anyone else awake in the room, so when he wakes up in a dark room and realizes that the last thing he recalls is Tim starting—but not finishing—one of his terrible jokes, he’s not sure what surprises him more, the fact that he fell asleep or the fact that he actually feels rested.
Sort of, anyway. He’s sore all over—the painkillers have obviously run their course—but he’s not too tired to think, and he’s obviously slept deeply. He stares at the blurry void currently standing in for the ceiling and tries to figure out how he feels about that. It should be a good thing, but it’s…well, there’s no other word for it, it’s weird.
In the grand scheme of things, it’s not that weird. Not as weird as the fact that he’s been talking to a future version of himself for eight days—somehow without knowing he’s blind—or the fact that his future self and Jon’s future self seem insanely close. Not as weird as being held hostage by a woman riddled with worms or attacked in his workplace by that same woman and her moderately-sized army of parasites. Not as weird as entities fueled by fear or an apocalypse being caused by a semi-immortal man currently disguised as an ordinary pencil-pusher. It is, in fact, the ordinary kind of weird, and really, Martin shouldn’t be getting hung up on it. Nevertheless, here he is, unable to understand when he came to trust the rest of the Archival team enough that he feels safe enough to fall asleep while they’re still awake to do things to him.
He really needs therapy, something he’s known for years, but several of the reasons he needs therapy tie into why he avoids therapy and it’s just a whole mess. The only reason he hasn’t done it that doesn’t tie into yet another trauma or blow to his psyche is the fact that he really can’t afford it. He’s barely scraping by as it is, and God only knows how he’s going to manage the need to move. He’s been in the same building for eleven years and rent’s gone up twice, and it’s still cheaper than most other places. Even if he does find someplace that doesn’t cost more, he’ll have to come up with the first month’s rent and the security deposit ahead of time, and then there’s the fact that he’s going to have to replace pretty much everything he owns that he didn’t manage to gather up for his temporary stay in the Archives; Jon and Sasha came back from getting their things and informed him regretfully that Mrs. Mattson had already thrown out what was left in his old flat and rented it out again. Add in the fact that he has to make up almost half of the fees at the home his mother insisted on moving into, and he’s not going to have the spare funds for, well, anything. Let alone therapy.
He sighs heavily and tries to sit up. It’s nice of Tim to let him sleep in the recliner, but when he first wakes up, it’s a bit of a struggle. And he honestly can’t figure out how he keeps lying back, since he’s pretty sure he falls asleep still sitting up. Maybe he’s doing it in his sleep, or maybe he’s just so tired he doesn’t remember settling back. Whatever it is, he discovered yesterday that it’s hard for him to use the appropriate strength to manipulate the recliner back into an upright position. Or at least to do it quietly. The others are still asleep—as far as he knows—and he doesn’t want to disturb them. He can tell himself all he wants that they need rest, that they deserve to have their sleep uninterrupted, that it’s been a rough couple of days for them too, but if he’s being honest it cycles back to his fear of the consequences of disturbing his mother while she was resting. Nine years and he still can’t make himself turn on a light before sunrise if the door isn’t firmly shut or listen to music without headphones after four in the afternoon. He wonders if he’ll ever be free.
The handle engages suddenly and the footrest goes down with a deceptively soft thwump that rocks Martin forward abruptly. He bites back a gasp of pain and waits for the world to stop swimming.
“Martin?”
The whispered call from not far away makes him flinch. Martin looks up, apologies ready on his lips, then realizes he’s not wearing his glasses and has no idea who was talking. He fumbles for them and puts them on just as Jon steps carefully around the end of the coffee table and perches on the end of the sofa next to him.
“I heard you starting to wake up,” Jon says softly. He holds something out—a mug. “I, ah, I was making tea anyway, so I thought…”
“O-oh.” Martin blinks in surprise and reaches out carefully to take the mug. “Ah, thank you?”
Their fingers brush, and it’s all Martin can do not to drop the mug or spill it on himself. He can feel the blush rising in his cheeks. God, it’s probably visible even with no lights.
“You’re welcome. I—you do so much for us. It seemed like high time someone did something for you for a change.” Jon pauses, then adds, “I hope I got it right. I—I know I haven’t exactly asked, but it—it seemed like what I remembered from after dinner?”
Martin takes a cautious sip of the tea and nearly chokes in surprise. “It’s perfect. Thank you.”
He can just make out Jon’s unfairly attractive smile before he brings his own mug to his lips. They sit in silence for a long moment, both of them seemingly lost in thought. Martin isn’t sure how much he’s actually thinking, though, beyond panicking slightly. It’s the first time he’s been alone with Jon, really, since he started living in the Archives. And after the last couple of days…he still has no idea where the two of them stand. If they’re on a friendlier footing, if they’ve found common ground, or if things are going to go back to normal once the initial shock wears off.
“What time is it?” he finally asks.
“About four in the morning. You’ve been asleep roughly nine hours.”
Martin exhales. “Christ, I had no idea I fell asleep that early.”
Jon tilts his head slightly. “Well, you’re healing. You’re likely going to do a fair amount of sleeping. We tried to keep it down.”
“I don’t mean to be an inconvenience like that,” Martin says, his stomach twisting. The idea that everyone has to be quiet because of him…
“Don’t be ridiculous, Martin, you’re not an inconvenience.” Jon sets his mug down on the table and turns to face Martin fully. “I—I know I’ve been overly critical of you over the last year. I really am sorry. I never meant to—I shouldn’t have treated you like that.”
“It’s—”
“Don’t say it’s all right. It isn’t. You’ve never been anything but diligent and conscientious, you’ve always gone above and beyond, and I—” Jon exhales. “The truth is, I-I was scared. I didn’t feel…adequate. Like I wasn’t up for the task. I didn’t—I never applied for this job either. Elias picked me, and I had no idea why. I don’t have a background in library science, o-or administration or anything like that. I couldn’t have told you why he offered me the job, but…well, I’m not sure I could have said no if I’d wanted to. A-and then you turned up in my office and said Elias had appointed you, and…I honestly thought he’d sent you to keep an eye on me. To, to report back to him if I stepped out of line or didn’t do the job properly. And then Rosie gave me a copy of your CV and I saw how long you’d been with the Institute, and all your credentials—”
“Most of which were fake.”
“Which I didn’t know at the time. I—I got intimidated.” Jon gives a small laugh. “I saw someone with more experience than all three of us put together and I thought, God, he wanted this job and didn’t get it and now he’s going to be reporting back to Elias every time I step out of line. I kept putting you down on the official recordings because—I don’t know, maybe part of me was hoping it would influence things in my favor if there was ever a dispute? And…I think I was projecting a lot of my own insecurities onto you. I am deeply sorry.”
Well, Jon won’t let him say it’s all right, but…Martin swallows hard and tries to smile. “I forgive you. And I’m sorry, too. I should have told you the truth sooner, but…I don’t know. I was afraid you’d fire me.”
“Considering the first interaction we ever had was me threatening you over that dog, I’d be afraid I’d fire me too.” Jon pauses. “I wonder what would have happened if I’d actually tried.”
Martin actually doesn’t want to think about it. He looks into the depths of the mug in his hands, then sets it on the end table where his glasses were previously. “I’m sorry if I woke you up.”
“You didn’t—oh, you mean the ‘I heard you starting to wake up’ thing? I was already awake.” Jon sighs. “I honestly don’t sleep very well these days. I-it’s not just the nightmares, it’s also…the worrying. About you. All three of you, really, but—you in particular.”
“Me?” Martin’s voice is louder than he means it to be. Tim grunts from somewhere else in the room and both Martin and Jon freeze, but after a moment he makes an odd sort of snorfling sound and seems to settle back into sleep. Martin rubs a hand over his mouth, trying to be careful of the bandages.
“Why me?” he asks, remembering to whisper this time.
Jon is silent for a moment. Martin is about to apologize for having asked when he says, “I could be glib and say it’s because you were the one being stalked by Jane Prentiss, and that is part of it, but…it’s also just that it’s you. It’s not that I don’t think you can take care of yourself just as well as Tim or Sasha can. I do. It’s…I really wasn’t sure before the last couple of days why that was. I’m still not completely sure, but I think I have a bit of a better idea.”
“We worry about you, too, you know.” Martin desperately wants to ask what Jon’s idea is, but he also doesn’t want to pry. “Ask, erm, Martin Prime. I asked him what I could do to help and he said not to let you get hurt and I kind of panicked a little.”
Jon chuckles. “I suppose that is a next-to-impossible task.”
“No, I mean I panicked at the idea that you would get hurt,” Martin says. He wonders how much he can say without betraying how he feels. The Primes are close friends, that much is obvious, but he and Jon aren’t anywhere near that point and he doesn’t want to ruin his chances of even that by blurting out that he’s fallen for his boss like a ton of bricks. This is also probably not the time to bring it up. They’re all a bit…emotionally compromised right now, and he’s still not sure what’s going to happen when the adrenaline of the last two days wears off. Even if Jon’s just said he worries about Martin. Fleetingly, he wonders if Martin Prime ever told Jon Prime how he felt and when, and he wishes it was a question he thought to ask while they had some time alone in the last week. “I-I mean, that was my biggest worry when I realized Jane Prentiss had followed me home, you know? I wasn’t just worried about what she’d do to me. I was worried she might…follow me to the Archives. Come after one of you, but especially you. A-and then when she texted you after I made my statement…” He sighs. “It’s stupid. I know it’s stupid. But there was a part of me thinking that if I needed to stay in the Archives, maybe the rest of you should have too, you know?”
“No, you’re—you’re not wrong. Truthfully, that was one of the things that I kept obsessing over last night,” Jon confesses in a low voice. “When I saw—when I realized—” He breaks off and looks away. “All I could think was that something had happened, that you could be hurt, and that you’d been alone and—God, I should have insisted we all stay. Or that you come stay with one of us from the outset. Although in retrospect…I’m not certain what would have happened if your counterpart had been alone in the Archives at the time. Not that I knew he was there, but…”
“Yeah,” Martin says quietly. He swallows against the sudden, unexpected lump in his throat. “I’m—I’m still glad you weren’t there, though. I-I was glad when it happened, and I was even more glad when I saw Jon Prime and…honestly, Jon, this sucks. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Least of all you. O-or Tim,” he adds hastily. “Or Sasha, but, I mean, she didn’t…not in their timeline, anyway.”
“No, but…that doesn’t mean we wanted you to have to get hurt, either,” Jon says. “It’s not exactly a fair trade.” He looks up at Martin. “A-are you in pain? Do you need your painkillers?”
The answer is yes, but Martin fights the urge to nod. “They, ah, they have to be taken with food. It’s—it’s not as bad as it was yesterday, at least.”
“Hold on. I think I can help with that.”
“Jon—” Martin begins, but it’s too late. Jon has already stood up from the sofa and headed in the direction of the kitchen.
Martin swears under his breath in Polish, then manages to get to his feet without hurting himself. He carefully picks up both mugs of tea and follows Jon, a bit more slowly. Partly it’s the pain, partly it’s force of habit. He doesn’t know where the joists or creaky floorboards might be, and it’s still early, he can’t risk waking people up because he’s walking too loudly. He’s already had one close call too many tonight.
He makes it to the kitchen. Jon is messing about with something, using the night-light mounted above the sink to see by. Martin can’t see what he’s doing. He sets the mugs down carefully on the table and asks, “What are you doing?”
Jon jumps and whirls around, brandishing a butter knife in one hand. He relaxes. “Martin—I didn’t hear you come in. I—I just thought—” He gestures at the counter. “It’s not much, but I thought I’d make you a sandwich at least. Get something in your stomach so you can take the pills.”
“You really don’t have to do that,” Martin protests, feeling his cheeks heat up. “I-I can wait until—”
“I’m sure you can, but there’s no reason you should,” Jon says briskly. “It’s been enough time that you’re certainly able to take your painkillers, and you need them, so why wait and make yourself feel worse?”
There’s a certain amount of logic in that, Martin has to admit. “I just…don’t want to be a bother.”
Jon places a sandwich in front of him firmly and lays a hand on his arm. “Martin,” he says sincerely, “the last thing you are is a bother. Sit down and eat. I’ll be right back.”
He heads out of the kitchen, leaving Martin incredibly confused and slightly embarrassed.
Lacking any better option, he sits down to eat the sandwich Jon has made for him. He doesn’t know what to expect, but it’s certainly not what he bites into. The first taste of it on his tongue almost makes him cry, and he closes his eyes, savoring it.
He hears footsteps and swallows hastily, opening his eyes as Jon comes back into the room. He sets the pill bottle next to Martin’s elbow, then sits down next to him and picks up his mug of tea. “Is it all right?”
“It’s perfect,” Martin says before he thinks it through and almost swallows his tongue. Oh, well, no taking it back now—best to press forward. “I didn’t know Tim ate cherry preserves.”
“I don’t think he does. He teased me a bit about being ‘elitist’ the first time he saw me eating them.”
Martin stops mid-chew and definitely swallows a too-solid bite. It takes him a second before he’s able to speak. “You like them, too?”
Jon’s eyes widen. “Too? I—I mean, obviously you like them, you’re eating the sandwich—God, I didn’t even think to ask, I just assumed…”
“No, it’s—I’ve always liked them,” Martin says. “My—my granddad had a couple cherry trees in his backyard. He used to make preserves every year, and…I dunno. They just remind me of visiting him.” He takes another bite of the sandwich.
Jon nods thoughtfully. “I’ve always been fond of cherry preserves. Well, cherry anything, actually. My grandmother used to bake cherry pies on my birthday in lieu of a cake.”
Martin smiles. “Granddad always did that for me, too.”
“I’ll remember that for next year.” Jon smiles, too.
For a few minutes, there’s silence as Martin finishes the sandwich. When the last bite is gone, Jon takes the plate and gets up to wash it while Martin struggles for a moment to get the cap off the pill vial and shake out a painkiller. The moment feels oddly…domestic. Calm. Cosy. Martin isn’t sure what to do with it, but he decides to try and let himself enjoy it. It’s never worked for him before, but he can give it a shot.
Finally, Jon sits back down next to him. “Feeling better?”
“Yeah. Thanks.” It’s not just the painkiller, which probably hasn’t actually started to work yet. It’s the tea, and the sandwich, and Jon being nice. He tries to figure out how to articulate it, then finally says, “It’s the first time in I don’t know how long that I don’t feel afraid.”
Jon exhales. “I know the feeling. I mean—I know I should be. The world is objectively terrifying, and learning what we learned today made that exponentially worse. But…this right here? I’m definitely calmer and more relaxed than I’ve been since I took the Archivist job.”
Something in Martin’s chest warms at the comment. It probably isn’t meant like that, but it’s nice to hear he’s not making Jon stressed by his mere presence, at least. And, hey, he can dream. All he says, though, is, “’S nice.”
“It is.” Jon takes a sip of his tea and stares into it for a moment, then snorts softly and shakes his head.
“What?”
“It’s just…something my counterpart said. While we were talking outside. I hadn’t thought about it before, but…he’s right.” Jon looks up. “He told me he hasn’t finished a cup of tea in years that—that his Martin hasn’t made for him. It just occurred to me that I’m the same way. Even when…those two weeks you weren’t in the office? When Jane Prentiss was—” He swallows hard. “I just realized that I would brew myself a cup of tea and it would just…sit on my desk and get cold. I never managed to drink more than half of it. I suppose it just tastes better when you make it.”
Martin doesn’t know quite how to respond to that. “You make tea just fine. This is perfect.”
Jon hums noncommittally. He seems to be debating with himself, then sighs. “You’re far more observant than I am at times…you know they’re together, right?”
Martin’s brain pulls up short. “Wait, what?”
“Our…counterparts. The Primes. They’re—they love each other. He told me that when I asked him, and…God, in retrospect, it’s so obvious. I-I suppose I just didn’t see it.” Jon looks suddenly nervous as he scans Martin’s face. “You’re more…in tune with that sort of thing than I. You did know, didn’t you?”
“N-no,” Martin manages to stammer out. Oh, God, he can feel his cheeks heating up. Jon’s right, though, in retrospect it’s obvious. He thinks about all the little interactions the Primes have had with one another, the way they both fuss over each other, the way they seem to know what the other is thinking. The lighthearted, affectionate banter, the near-constant physical contact. Jon Prime rubbing his thumb over Martin Prime’s knuckles to calm himself when he gets overwhelmed, Martin Prime reaching for Jon Prime instinctively when he needs a hand up.
Then, suddenly, he remembers the way Martin Prime spoke about the person who was coming back to meet him, when he assured Martin that if they’ve come through somewhere else, they’re looking for me. Logically, he knows now that person was Jon Prime, but he somehow didn’t make the connection between the two. It’s as if his brain saw Jon Prime walk in and instantly erased every conclusion that conversation made him come to. It didn’t occur to him, at the time, that Jon would even bother to bring him back in time with him, let alone be looking for him. Now he takes a mental step back, re-evaluates every moment between the Primes in light of that conversation, and wants to smack himself on the forehead for being an idiot.
“You’re right, though. I really should have figured that out sooner,” he murmurs. “God knows I had enough information to put it together. Guess I just assumed there couldn’t possibly be a universe where I—”
He snaps off the words as quickly as he can. Oh, God, he really almost said it out loud. Almost let Jon know how he feels. He’s not stupid, the Primes have a lot more history between them than he and Jon do, and he doesn’t doubt for a minute that they haven’t been together long, relatively speaking. Probably only since Jon Prime rescued Martin Prime from the Lonely. The circumstances that led them to this point are ones they’re trying to undo, and Martin seriously doubts he and Jon will ever get to that point. It’s best if he tries to let this thing die now and be happy for his counterpart getting this much.
Jon looks like he wants to ask him a question, but doesn’t. Instead, he says quietly, “They weren’t going to tell you. Us, I suppose, but…I asked him. How he felt about his Martin. Mostly because I was trying to figure out how I felt about you, and I thought knowing his thoughts would help untangle mine.”
Martin has to try twice before he can get the words out. “Did it?”
Jon gives a small, humorless laugh. “Not really. In truth, it just made things more confusing. I…” He rubs his thumb against the knuckle of his index finger, the same nervous tic Jon Prime uses when he doesn’t have Martin Prime’s hand to hold. “I-I got scared when I arrived at the Institute the other night. I was…there was all that chaos, all those lights and sirens and activity, and—and I realized you weren’t in the crowd. All I could think of was that there’d been a fire and you hadn’t woken in time, or that you’d been trapped and been…burned or breathed in too much of the CO2 or something. I tried to—they wouldn’t let me in after you. Obviously. That makes perfect sense, but…at the time, all I could think of was that you were in there a-and I needed to get to you, that I needed to know you were safe. I was staring at the idea of a world without you and I couldn’t face it. And then…Elias told me Tim and Sasha were down there, and then mentioned Jane Prentiss, and it all got worse and…I don’t know, Martin, I’m rambling. But Tim’s right. I was—I must’ve shouted down half a dozen officials trying to get one of them to tell me where you were, how you were, to—to let me see you. Everyone kept saying you were going to be all right, but I knew I wouldn’t believe it until I saw you.”
“I—I mean, if it had been Sasha or Tim—” Martin begins.
“I don’t know how I would have reacted if it had been them who was hurt. I was definitely worried about them, but…I don’t know.” Jon takes a deep breath. “I’ll be honest. I still don’t really know how I feel. I—I do care about you. I worry about you, I want you to be safe. Beyond that, I—I’m afraid I don’t know.” He manages a small, slightly roguish smile. “I don’t suppose you know how you feel.”
“Oh, Christ,” Martin practically whines. This is not how he wanted any of this to come out, and he doesn’t know if he should say it.
Then it occurs to him that Jon didn’t ask. Jon, who has just learned that he’s developing the ability to force people to answer his questions, and who is probably more likely to do it when he’s tired or stressed out, deliberately avoided actually asking a question. It’s a simple statement. He’s giving Martin permission to not say a word if he doesn’t want to.
Which…actually, weirdly, makes him want to.
He takes a deep breath. “O-okay. The truth is…I’ve kind of had a crush on you for a while. I wasn’t going to say anything, because it’s—I mean, I didn’t want to make things weird, a-and I know you—I was just trying for ‘he doesn’t think I’m a complete idiot’ for a while there. I also thought it was just a stupid workplace crush, and I was kind of hoping it would eventually go away on its own. It didn’t. Ever since I started living in the Archives, it’s just got worse. I guess that’s why I didn’t realize how the Primes felt about each other. I kind of thought I was projecting, o-or seeing what I wanted to see, maybe? I don’t know. But I do worry, and I do…I do care.”
“That’s not why you went back to Carlos Vittery’s apartment, is it?” Jon’s voice is so soft Martin almost doesn’t hear it, but his eyes are worried. “Because you thought I…?”
“No,” Martin assures him. “No, I—you know, I know I said I was trying to ‘make sure I’d done my due diligence’ and all that, but what was behind that was that I’d been…I felt pressured to go back. Like a nagging, persistent headache. I get it all the time, really, when I’m doing research. Remember when you sent me to track down that…that Angela woman? For the—”
“The man who was falling to pieces. I remember.”
“I know you got exasperated with me, but I literally couldn’t stop until I’d talked to every Angela I could find. I’d think ‘well, I’m not going to find her, I’m going back to the Institute now,’ but I’d get this blinding headache and it wouldn’t go away until I went ‘okay, just one more.’ It’s only got worse as time goes on. So no, I didn’t…get myself into this mess because I was trying to impress you or whatever.” Martin can’t help the small, nervous chuckle that escapes him. “’Course, if it did impress you, I wouldn’t complain.”
“What impressed me was that you kept your head well enough to survive and get back to your apartment, never mind the Institute,” Jon says warmly. “If it were me, I’d likely have done something stupid like go back for my phone when I realized I’d dropped it.” He sighs. “I—I don’t want to make things awkward. But I also don’t want to…promise anything.”
“I don’t expect anything, Jon.” Martin learned a long time ago not to expect anything. As far as he’s concerned, the phrase good things come to those who wait is inapplicable. In his case, it’s more like good things come to those who aren’t you. He has friends, in Tim and Sasha at least. That’s more than he probably deserves.
Jon studies him for a moment, then smiles slightly and holds out his hand. “How about I apologize for being such an ass to you, and we start with friends and see where it goes from there?”
This is the last thing Martin would have ever anticipated, but he’s certainly not going to object. He smiles in reply and takes Jon’s hand. “Deal.”
They shake on it—very gently, Jon is careful of the healing wounds on Martin’s hands—and then sit back. Jon studies Martin. “Did they tell you how long you’ll need to wear the bandages?”
“Until things stop bleeding when I take them off?” Martin shrugs. “Hopefully not too long. Some of them are…deeper than others. I’m supposed to make an appointment with my regular doctor for a follow-up in a couple of weeks.”
“We’ll make sure you get there safely,” Jon promises. He picks up his mug and salutes Martin with it. “After all, what are friends for?”
Martin grins, feeling more relaxed than he’s felt in a while, and salutes Jon back. “What indeed?”
#ollie writes fanfic#leaves too high to touch (roots too strong to fall)#tma#the magnus archives#jonmartin#mentions of emotional abuse#acts of service as a love language
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