#and get Catherine to finally say the quiet part out loud
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Summary:
After her rescue from Enbarr by Dimitri, Rhea has withdrawn to the Red Canyon to live a life of peace and seclusion, interrupted by a monthly visit from Flayn to deliver some books, and have tea and a chat. However, as Catherine's feelings for her and Flayn's frustrations with Seteth's prudish behavior become more obvious, Rhea devices a plan...
Notes:
To celebrate Rhea's birthday, here's a cute little first chapter to a fic that I had been meaning to write for a while. This story will be almost exclusively Rhea & Flayn as well as Rhea/Catherine. And before anyone asks: I DO actually like Seteth, in part because he is flawed (the flaw in this case being an overbearing father).
The song Rhea sings is a translation of part if "Mein Anblick", by German medieval folk rock band Schandmaul.
Disclaimer: This work was written for publication on Archive of Our Own and my personal Tumblr and is not for profit. Any re-publication on for-profit/monetized sites/apps is not authorized or supported by me. If you come across such a re-publication, please leave a comment here or in my tumblr ask box. Podfics and translations may be authorized upon request.
Full text below the cut for those who prefer to read on tumblr
It began, as so many things did, with a careless, casual remark, flung out into the open to be forgotten within seconds.
"Dimitri has invited me to visit him and Dedue in the capital and I am sorely tempted to accept," Flayn had said as she had put the finishing touches on the white flower pattern she had been stitching onto her new skirt, "but father has been terribly busy for the last two months and likely will be for several more. I believe pigs will start ascending to the sky before he lets me make such a journey all on my own."
"I see..."
Rhea sipped from the Crescent Moon Tea that Flayn had prepared for the two of them. Or... well... technically, the three of them, but Catherine had refused to partake, as she had had for the last ten moons, no matter how often Flayn had reassured her that her presence was not disturbing their conversations at all. Instead, she was patrolling the ruins again, the low, vibrating sound of her distant off-key humming similar to the rustling of leaves in a forest.
"I understand his desire to be cautious in these times," Rhea finally conceded as she put her cup down once more. Why did tea have to be hot? "The war may be over, but I hear some of the dark mages Edelgard employed are still in hiding." Her hands clung closer to the cup, the chill from the dungeons of Enbarr creeping back into her bones even now, almost a year after her rescue. "It would be dangerous for... one of us... of all people, to travel Fodlan alone, but surely he could spare a knight or two to accompany you? And once you are in Fhirdiad, surely His Majesty would ensure your safety?"
Flayn sighed. "I don't think it is ambushes from dark mages that father is concerned about." She finished another two stitches, then paused in the middle of the third. "Unless every man in Fhirdiad leaves the city while I am visiting, I doubt father's fears could be allayed."
"I see."
Rhea wanted to sigh. She could probably get away with it too, now that she was no longer the archbishop, forced to perform serenity, wisdom and grace, even when she was truly upset, lost and raw with grief on the inside. Still, this was Flayn. Her niece. One of the last five Nabateans in existence, or possibly six if one counted the new archbishop. For her sake, she could endure that torture again for a few hours each month.
"I assume you have talked to Seteth about this?"
"More times than I wish to count." Flayn rolled her eyes and took a petulant stab at her skirt. "He insists that I know far too little about the dangers inherent in such attachments and that we shall 'discuss it another time'."
Finally, frustration won out. Rhea watched silently as Flayn secured the needle close to where she had finished stitching and threw the whole garment onto the pile of books she was going to take back to the monastery with her. A History of Brigid and Dagda. The Tales of Kyphon. Songs of the North.
Songs of the North...
Rhea's lips curved into the slightest smile. She had an ide—
"What do you think he means by that, Rhea? Considering how long we..." Flayn took up her cup and downed it whole, without the slightest pause. If her throat glowed as hot as her cheeks, she was bravely ignoring it. Or perhaps, even using the fire as fuel for her frustrated words. "What is 'another time' for him? In a hundred years? A thousand? They will all be dead by then, Rhea!"
"Who will be dead?"
True to her name, Catherine burst into the room at the speed of lightning, sword drawn, body poised for battle. Flayn's cup tumbled out of her hands and shattered on the marble table just as her startled yelp came to a close.
"Just point me at them! I will cut them down to size!"
"There's no-one to cut, Catherine." To Rhea's surprise, the sound that came out of her own throat was a surprised giggle.
A giggle.
When was the last time she had been carefree enough to giggle?
"I... um... I was speaking of... um..." Flayn's hands reached for the shards almost too quickly. Rhea could already foresee her injuring her fingers. "...the fish! Ow!" She pulled her hands back from the mess on the table and pouted at the cut in childlike indignation for just a moment, before turning to Catherine with a sheepish smile. "His majesty invited me to visit the capital, but I am just so worried the fish in the pond will all be dead if I'm gone for so many weeks."
Catherine raised an eyebrow, then put away her sword. She looked almost disappointed. And positively bored.
"Why would you worry about the fish? Last I checked, Garreg Mach has an actual Fishkeeper whose entire job it is to ensure the fish are well." Catherine shrugged. "Well, until they are caught and taken to the kitchens anyway."
"Oh, of course." Rhea smiled, took off one of her gloves, and wrapped it around Flayn's injured finger, pressing gently. "How easily one forgets the simplest of facts, when worried about something one holds dear."
"Now that," Catherine sighed, "that feeling I know all too well. I shall take my leave then. My apologies for interrupting."
"It is quite alright." Rhea shook her head. Her gaze wondered once more to the books. To the Songs of the North.
Perhaps Catherine's interruption had been more than alright.
Perhaps it was time to beat Seteth at his own game.
"Wait, Catherine!"
"Yes, Lady Rhea?" She had been almost out of the room already, yet Catherine froze and turned around in an instant.
"I have a question before you go. That melody you were humming before... it sounds distantly familiar, but I cannot recall its title, no matter how hard I try."
The blush that rose to Catherine's cheeks almost instantly confirmed what she had already guessed. It had truly only been half a lie. She had not been certain about the title, but she had had her suspicions. And if her suspicions were correct...
"I believe it's called 'Your Sight', Lady Rhea." Catherine's voice could not have sounded more nervous if she had been on her knees, wielding a ring instead of a sword. "But I honestly don't remember the words. Just the melody."
Now that was a lie, but one Rhea was happy to overlook. She granted Catherine leave once more, then finally withdrew her glove to look at Flayn's finger.
The bleeding had stopped. The subtle glazing over of her eyes as bitter tears made their way to the surface had not.
"Please accept my apologies, Rhea. It's just..." Flayn wiped her eyes with her sleeve and sat up as straight and unbending as she could. "It's just not fair. How am I supposed to learn, if he won't let me within ten feet of a man without supervision?"
"Well," Rhea smiled and wrangled the copy of Songs of the North out of the pile as gently as she could. "We could start here."
"The books from the library?" Flayn raised an eyebrow and continued her work of gathering the shards of her poor cup, this time with more care. "I already asked the librarians, the monks and even some of the students for recommendations, but whatever novels of romance the library may have, they are not accessible to me. And if I were to buy one at the market, surely father would find out."
"That is why you look for the romance in books that are not about romance." Rhea's smile turned positively sly. "You just have to know where to look."
The cover was heavy and worn, but inside the pages looked almost untouched by the sands of time. Little wonder, Rhea thought to herself, as she let her finger run down the index, when there is nothing in this book that would be relevant to any study of battle.
But love... oh yes. There were things in here that were relevant to the study of love.
"Ah!" Her heart made a little jump when she finally found it. Is this how students felt when they bent the rules instead of breaking them? It had been too long since she had felt this... juvenile and mischievous. "There it is."
The page was one-hundred and sixty-five. Though some of the words were partially blotted out by prints of a paw here or an unfortunate drop of wax there, the song was legible enough. Rhea cleared her throat and straightened her back.
"If I had a brush for painting your visage,
the gleam of your fair eyes, your full rosy lip,
I'd paint your fine brow, your sweet smile and faint freckles
as they caught me in their most enchanting grip."
The distant humming stopped almost exactly at the same time as Flayn's shocked gasp. Had it been unkind of her to Catherine, to sing so loudly a song of such obvious intent? Perhaps, but the damage was done. Rhea cleared her throat once more and continued.
"If I had a flute for playing the sweet notes
that tell of your limitless beauty and grace,
I'd play the full roundel of heavenly dances
as they haunt my thoughts since those most fateful days.
But neither pictures, nor sweet notes nor kind words,
could ever describe what occurred in that place.
When I saw you there, how it shook all my soul...
Yes, upon that night, you kindled my flame.
The sun and the stars, they tell stories of you,
every gust speaks of you, through and through,
every single breath, every stride,
carries your name with it, so far and wide."
She closed the book softly, careful not to disturb the faint echo of her voice that travelled across the ruins of Zanado. She could all but see it reverberate in Flayn's body. It was rare to see both a smile and tears on her niece's face, yet here they were.
Rhea shook her head and laughed softly. "I apologize if my rendition of it did not do it justice."
"Oh, that," Flayn blinked furiously, as if awakening from a dream, "that's not the case at all! It is truly a beautiful song! And you performed it very well! I just..." The shards were neatly arranged now. Flayn looked almost disappointed at them for no longer providing a welcome distraction and retrieved her stitching project instead. Still, the needle remained idle between her fingers. "I just..."
"You did not expect to find an ode of love in the middle of a book about chivalry and the harsh wilderness of Faerghus in winter, did you?"
"No." At last, Flayn resumed her stitches, but even so her attention was only half there. "No, I did not."
"And neither would Seteth."
Rhea returned the book to the pile and got up to search for the list of next month's haul that she had prepared the day before. Granted, she had not expected to help her niece fill an educational gap that was becoming increasingly important to remedy, but then again, it was hardly too late to add one more book to the list.
By the time she came back, Flayn had abandoned the floral patterns of her skirt once more. Her gaze was fixated on the books, yet it seemed a million miles away. There was curiosity there, and longing, and hope, yes... but also trepidation, brushed with a hint of guilt.
Yes, Rhea had been alive long enough to be able to read Flayn's face easily enough, but sometimes the quiet parts had to be said out loud.
"What troubles you, Flayn? Please, speak honestly."
"I'm worried." It wasn't what Rhea had expected her to start with, but as she sat down again, the slight shaking of Flayn's hands confirmed that she was not exaggerating. "I hate having to go behind father's back about such things. I know he will be furious if he finds out... and disappointed. Disappointed and hurt that I chose to shut him out."
"But was it really you who did the choosing?" She kept her voice as soft and gentle as she could. Going by the confused look on Flayn's face, perhaps even too gentle.
"I'm afraid I do not follow..."
"You tried to learn naturally, by interacting with the students. Seteth refused to let you." Rhea picked up the owl feather she kept near the books and dipped it in thick, black ink. "You tried to learn from the books at Garreg Mach. Seteth refused to let you." Oh but where to start... There were so many things that would need explaining, so many opportunities... "You talked to Seteth himself about this issue... and he refused to help."
"You mean he left me no choice."
"Precisely."
Although to be perfectly fair to Seteth, it was not just his own behavior that complicated things. Rhea forced her face into the display of graceful serenity she had been so happy to give up upon her retirement to Zanado. Long-lived as their kind may be, even Nabateans went through an age of natural curiosity and yearning and Flayn... well, Flayn was exactly at that point.
And perhaps that was the best point to start. She jotted the name of the book down quickly, before returning quill and ink where they belonged. When she turned back around, the paper was already in Flayn's hand.
A very confused Flayn's hands.
"Best Practices for Codes of Conduct in Training Facilities throughout Fodlan." Flayn's eyebrows knitted into a heavy frown. "I fail to see how that would contain any... relevant information."
"And so will Seteth," Rhea shrugged. "To him, it will just be another book on my monthly reading list. Have the librarians give them to you early, and when your brother asks why, say you wish to broaden your horizons and be able to talk about my reading choices with me."
Flayn looked at her in mild concern, then at the list, then back at Rhea. "You want me to lie to my own father?"
"Of course not. But how is any of what I just said a lie? You will broaden your horizons. And we will discuss what you read. We are merely emitting to mention which part of it."
She wasn't fully convinced, Rhea could see that much. Still, Flayn folded the note carefully and tucked it into the book at the top of the stack, before returning to her sewing.
"Thank you, Rhea. Although I suppose it will still be a long time before I get to undertake that visit to the capital."
"Unfortunately, yes." Rhea picked up her cup of tea once more and couldn't help but smile. It was finally a drinkable temperature. "But as the Fifth Book of Seiros says, the Goddess will never deny the splendors of patience."
#my fic#Saint Cethleann's Garland#Rhea#Rhea FE#Rhea (Fire Emblem)#FE Rhea#Flayn#Catherine FE#Catherine (Fire Emblem)#FE Catherine#mostly Rhea & Flayn#a bit of Rhea/Catherine#TLDR: Rhea opens a thirsty book club in Zanado to educate her niece#and get Catherine to finally say the quiet part out loud
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Back to Vegas - Chapter 6
Words: 2330
Pairing: Nick Stokes x Reader
A/N: Warning for Suicide and Violence. Low key inspired by the ending of Prisoners (2012)
CH1 CH2 CH3 CH4 CH5 CH6 CH7 CH8
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Your lungs heaved as you made it into the breakout room. Standing by the door you gave Greg a smile as Nick came in behind you. The two of you had run slightly late and it was a miracle that you’d come in in time.
“Now that everyone’s here.” Greg clapped his hands together “We should get a move on. We have a Warrant for Hannah’s property and Sara and I went in there yesterday. We found some stuff that definitely connects her to the case. Grissom and Catherine started to make stronger connections with what we found and Nick and Y/N really helped look at the evidence all again objectively.” he paused “We’re pretty confident Hannah did this, we have a lead which says she’s been hiring a warehouse just outside of Vegas so we’ll be going there. Nick, Catherine and Sara you come with me to the warehouse. Grissom and Y/N hold down the fort here and start processing some more of the stuff we pulled from Hannah’s house.”
“This isn’t very like Hannah. We all should be extra careful.” Sara spoke up “She’s usually very clever in what she does but it looks like she’s gotten lazy. There has to be a reason for that.”
Greg agreed “Keep your eyes peeled. Alright, those coming with me lets go.” He was soon leaving the room and everyone on his team for the outing soon followed. Nick wrapped his arm around you for a very brief embrace as he left the room and pecked you on the forehead.
“I’d offer you a coffee but if the others are starting right now we should too.”
You smiled at Grissom “That’s fine by me. Lead the way.”
The man smirked and led you to the room he and Catherine had been working in.
The two of you began to work and it didn’t take long for Grissom to get a call. Excusing himself from the room you continued to fingerprint the case of vials found at Hannah’s place as you waited for his return.
“How do you fancy getting away from the lab for a little bit?”
“Sure.” you smiled as you stood up.
“Greg and Sara want you to do another quick sweep of the property to look for anything else, they also want you to pick up Sara’s kit because she left it there. One of them will come over to help you after the warehouse. I’ll stay here and continue processing this” he gestured at the items in front of him
You nodded and took down the address from Grissom. “I’ve printed the vials. They just need to be run through the system now.”
“Have fun.”
“I will.” you smiled as you made your way out to one of the work vehicles.
The drive wasn’t bad and actually went by quickly. You’d never been to this part of Vegas yet and it didn’t look half bad. The neighbourhood looked friendly yet sparse. Hopping out of your vehicle nothing seemed out of the ordinary, it was quiet and no one was around. The door was locked and had tape over to show that no one had entered.
You brought out your knife and cut down the tape to let yourself in. Spotting Sara’s kit you picked it up and left the door open as you returned it to the trunk of your vehicle.
Entering the house again you slowly took steps inside and felt the eeriness around you. It was deadly silent yet you felt like you could hear static and like you weren’t alone. “Hello?” you called out into the space.
You felt your phone vibrate in your pocket so you slipped it out to read the text, you smiled when you saw it was from Nick. ‘She wasn’t at the warehouse. Greg, Sara and Cath are going to process here and I’ll be over with you soon x’
‘How can Sara process without a kit?’ you replied quickly.
‘Sharing is caring… we had a backup one in the trunk.’
You laughed ‘See you soon. Love you x’
You put your phone away and continued to walk around the house. Placing your kit down in the living room doorway you walked through to the next room which was an open plan kitchen and dining room. It was sparse but a camera on a tripod connected to a laptop caught your eye. There were items strewn across the table including a kit similar to the one you’d just processed for fingerprints back at the lab.
Moving in front of the camera to look at the laptop screen you noticed an exact reflection of what was in front of the camera, a live feed. You turned and looked away from the laptop screen around the room. That’s when the alarm bells rung, this stuff must not have been here when Greg and Sara processed the scene otherwise it would be at the lab. Slowly reaching for your gun you felt a stabbing sensation in your neck.
The gun was knocked from your grasp across the room and you struggled against the person who’d come behind you.
“Just give in to it. Give in. You won’t be able to stand much longer. Do yourself a favour.” a woman’s voice came
You continued to struggle and managed to break yourself away briefly to see the woman’s face but it was blurry and your vision was swimming. Whatever she’d injected into you was already taking effect.
“Hannah? What did you?” you brought your hand up to your neck “Potassium?” you were feeling tired and like your tongue was heavy,
“Yes I am and no. It’s a nice little drug cocktail I mustered up when I heard you open the front door.”
You looked at your gun on the floor and tried to dive for it but that was a big mistake, your vision was spotting and Hannah kicked the gun away from your hand and stood on it, before giving you a kick to the stomach which rolled you over. “You really had to ruin my afternoon arrangements huh?”
She walked over to the table “It was supposed to be a nice little recording session to explain everything and finally end it all and be re-united with my brother. But no.” she turned around with another syringe. “You had to ruin it and take the peace away.”
You tried to crawl away on the floor and sit up to get away but she was soon back over at your side pushing you down and moving your hair out of the way. “But what’s one more casualty?” She forcefully pushed your head down to the ground, pain emitted there instantly. “Unfortunately I have nothing here that’ll kill you quickly besides the gun and that’s well that’s really not my style.”
Nick’s voice calling your name made her stop for a second. You tried your best to scream his but you had no clue what ever came out, the first dose of whatever she’d injected in your system already wreaking havoc on you.
You tried to struggle against her and push her away but it was too later, the needle had broken your skin and you could feel her injecting the concoction. She leaned down close to your ear and continued to inject the solutions as she whispered “Pitty I didn’t get to do this to anyone that actually worked on my cases before, that would have been more satisfying.”
Nick had entered the room to see her over you and saw her pulling the needle out of you and your body going limp. “Put your hands up.” he drew his gun and sent an alert out on his walkie subtly.
“I said put your hands up.”
Hannah eventually moved away from you and stood. “You don’t have long. The clock’s ticking for her already.”
“What did you inject!” he shouted.
She gestured to the table “Your guess is as good as mine, a little bit of everything.”
Nick peered at you to see your eyes fluttering open and closed as your head rolled on the ground.
“Step away.” he called to Hannah.
“I don’t think I will.” she approached the table and picked up another vial. “You know I was saving this for me but I don’t think that’d do the trick quick enough. You wouldn’t let me have the satisfaction of dying that way.”
She turned away from Nick as he took a step forward towards you as Hannah was slowly creeping away from you. Before he could really react he saw Hannah dive for something on the floor and stand upright again.
She held your gun to her head “Tell her I said thanks for the gun, but then again I might get the chance before you if she doesn’t make it.”
“No!” Nick shouted as he began to move towards Hannah for the gun. A bang had Nick freezing freezing, she’d shot herself.
Nick turned away in shock and shouted down his walkie talkie before coming to you with tears in his eyes. “Y/N.” he shook you “Y/N. Wake up please.”
He could see your eyes rolling in your head and you tried to open them. “Nicky.” you mumbled.
“Yeah Honey?”
“I love you.” it came out thickly “Remember that.” your voice sounded tired.
“I know Baby I know.” tears were threatening now “I love you too. Just stay with me ok?” We’re going to get you to the hospital.” he brought his fingers to your neck to try and feel your pulse.
He knew he’s asked for medical assistance and an emergency team but he couldn’t wait around. He knew it would be quicker to drive you. Picking you up he moved as fast as he could with you out to the car he’d arrived in, placing you across the back seats he hopped in the driver's seat and drove as fast as he could towards the nearest hospital.
“Y/N. Talk to me Sweetheart.” he begged as he drove.
“Please” he looked in the rearview mirror to try and see you but he could only see you lying still with limp arms. “Please speak to me. Please” he pleaded, tears very much collecting in his eyes. “We’re nearly there Honey. Nearly there, stay with me now. You’re going to be ok.”
He pulled up right outside the emergency room of the hospital and called for help as loud as he could while he moved you out of the back. Carrying you inside he was met by a team of people rushing towards him with a bed. He lay you down gently and kept brushing your hair out of your face and taking in your features as he rolled off what had happened to the staff.
“Please just save her.” he sobbed, the tears finally falling.
“We’ll try our best Mr Stokes but you’re going to have to wait here.” A tall nurse spoke
“You don’t understand. She means everything to me.”
“We understand. Please just sit down and call someone.” the Nurse tried to push him back from the moving bed.
Nick took your hand and placed a kiss on it as the tears streamed down his face and the team around you started prodding your skin with different needles to draw blood and inject other solutions into your system.
He entirely froze in place when he let go of your hand and it felt like his world came crashing down around him as you turned the corner and were out of his sight.
Flopping in a chair he opened his phone to see missed calls from Greg and Grissom. Pressing some buttons with no real aim he realised he was dialling Greg, bringing his cellphone to his ear he heard the man calling his name.
“Greg?”
“Nick, what the hell is going on? It does not look good over here.”
“I’m at the hospital with Y/N.”
“I guessed as much. Is everything ok? The EMT’s arrived at the same time Sara, Catherine and I did.”
“She might not make it.” Nick tried to hold back his tears but the hurt and sadness was very much still in his voice. “Hannah-” he was cut off by some tears falling and he tried to compose himself to continue to Greg “Hannah attacked Y/N and injected her with God only knows what. I couldn’t wait.”
“Alright. Alright.” Greg’s tone had softened now and was less urgent. “You keep your mind on Y/N we’ll sort this out. I think Grissom was on his way to you. Look after her ok?”
“Yeah” his voice was wobbly and he brought his hand up to his eyes “I’ll keep you updated.”
Hanging up he leant all the way forward, crossed his arms over his lap and rested his head there and let out some more sobs. The uncertainty was killing him. He couldn’t bear to lose you.
He looked up when he heard someone walking down the corridor to him. He was only now realising that he’d picked a really quiet spot to sit down.
Nick was immediately on his feet as soon as he saw who it was, his phone fell on the floor but he didn’t care. He took a couple of steps forward and opened his arms to embrace the older man who had been a father figure to him for many years.
“Pancho.” Grissom spoke sadly as he cradled Nick’s head and allowed him to cry.
“I can’t lose her.” Nick choked out.
“I know Nick, I know.” the man gently pulled away to see Nicks red eyes and tear tracks down his face. “Let's get you some water.”
Nick picked up his phone from the floor and allowed Grissom to lead the way. Grissom knew how much you meant to him and all he could do right now was be a shoulder to cry on because no one knew what the future held.
Next Chapter
Tag List: (open)
Nick Stokes:
@wanniiieeee @pumpkinfriend
CSI:
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A Good Servant
Part 2
16+ please. Content warnings:
Casual mentions of death, body modification, mention of whipping (not in a sexy way in the bad way), mention of tongue removal, mention of murder, mention of strangling, infliction of grievous bodily harm, improper firearm use
There are many servant passages in the castle, mostly forgotten, and you use them to ensure that your staff behaves as desired. They help you find and smooth any kinks that arise, like Rachel's inability to not have an affair and Daniela's nightly harassment of Louise.
And to keep an eye on the Lady's pet, of course.
She's too far out from your sphere of influence in the household for any actions you take to be beneficial in the long run. Lady Dimitrescu will only listen to you so long as you don't run contrary to what she wills; the wellbeing of her pet is something she considers seriously to be a personal affair and completely out of your hands. To accept that she doesn't know best would feel like a diminishing of herself.
Yet, at the same time, being the cause of another pets death would greatly grieve her. If you can stop that, then you can consider your time well spent.
"Bertrand." You call as you enter the kitchen.
This time around, they are a thickly built muscled human, displaying traditionally masculine traits and being perceived as such. You know them as your sibling, even as their face is changed over the years.
Their voice this time is booming and filled with a deep timbre. But while you both talk big and about nothing, you watch their hands.
"Alex," you sign discretely, "I've run into a hurdle."
"A breach somewhere?" They sign back.
"No, I'm taking care of that. It's about her pet."
"What about it?"
"It's malnourished. Lady Dimitrescu isn't feeding it enough."
They bend their fingers in a way to convey a calm down gesture, "Don't sign so angrily. Its obvious." A pause, "I will ensure something smooth and energy dense is made."
"Apologies," you say out loud, folding your hands in front of you and matching the severity of their tone, "But it seems Miss Daniela has an upset stomach."
"Well see what can be done, ma'am," They said, crossing their arms, "But preparations have already been made."
"Then remake them." You say, signing a loving farewell and exit the kitchen. You steel yourself and walk over to the Heisenberh retainer.
...
By four in the evening, the meeting is still dragging along, half the Heisenbergs are gone and Mihaela is still passed out on her bed. You've been cleaning for the past 30 minutes around her, packing her things, preparing new sheets, so on and so forth.
When Mihaela finally wakes up, while you're busy dusting the candelabra around the room, she still has that wild shaken look on her face.
"You, you have to change her mind." Mihaela begs.
"I can't." You say firmly, not looking away from your cleaning.
"Can't you try?"
You put down your duster, "Would you prefer to watch me get lashed, Mihaela?"
She squeaks. You find that most staff are too timid to risk others, terrified of being perceived as a monster, but you can see she still wants to push it. You clear your throat and continue, "In my absence, you answer to the Dimitrescu family. If a Heisenberg comes to you, tell me immediately, otherwise I cannot protect you."
"Right." She mumbled.
You picked up half her things and she hastened to pick up the rest. "It is imperative that you wake early enough to dress the Lady and that you remain on call for her at all times during the day."
"Okay."
You held the door open for her as she waddled into the hallway. "You'll be in close proximity with her pet," she paled and you rolled your eyes, "do not speak to her and do not touch her unless Lady Dimitrescu says so. That includes eye contact."
"Right."
"And remember not to stare at her pet either. She took the last maids tongue for that."
"Okay."
"You'll be picking every outfit for the Lady and her pet in the morning. Pay close attention to the colour, it would not do to have either of them wearing peach in summer or grey in winter."
"I'll remember that." Mihaela huffed, struggling to keep up as you strode down the hallways.
You pause before the next junction. When she catches up shes red faced and sweating, and you can see that she's shed a few tears along the way.
"Don't fret over it," You say, "You'll make yourself slip up." When she looks sick, you smile and take care to keep the amusement from your voice. "Let's get you settled into your new room."
...
You abandon Mihaela to her dread. She'd sort herself out before long or die in the process.
When you get to the kitchen, you find your staff milling about quietly. You take the extra time to whip them back into shape until the kitchen is buzzing with moving hands and feet. More energy towards a better, emotionally frugal existence rather than wasting it indulging in panic.
When that's done you take a tray from Catherine, stopping her shaking hands from making a mess of the hors d'oeuvres and sending her to work on the dishes instead. You take a glance at the food offered; lots of bacon, small samples of fruit and what looks to be the jelly Miss Bela made from the leftovers of her last meal.
You checked the clock. Fifteen past five.
You walk steadily into the dining room and then down the table to her side, where you deposit the small plates. The stares of the others follow you, but you've never let a Heisenberg or a Moreau distract you. By the way they stare, you wonder if they've never seen a blonde before.
They're dug in like fleas, none moving but to recentre themselves. An intimidation technique, though without the stalwart grace that Lady Dimitrescu holds.
She doesn't even spare you a glance, her entire focus on the tone of her voice and the way she tilts her head to watch all her guests. She moves smoothly, her pearls never clicking together, her hair barely moving as she turns to the head Moreau.
You could watch her talk all day and never run out of things to admire.
Instead of pursuing that, though, you move to stand with your staff members, whose curling shoulders are disgraceful. Its second nature for you to stand tall, proud but reserved; the posture of a learned being rather than some common miscreant. As if on cue, your staff follow your lead and you almost frown. They're usually so composed, the ones you let serve guests.
When Lady Dimitrescu calls your name, you walk over smoothly. You lean towards her when she gestures and almost startle when her lips brush your ear. She smiles, a just there curve of her lips, and you relax just a bit. Her pet, though, is no where to be seen.
"Your other skills are needed," she murmurs, quiet enough that the others can't hear, and you note steel in her voice, "The smell of the room is different and my pet is missing. Find out why."
When you lean away, you keep your expression neutral, "Of course, Madame."
You bow respectfully and turn to leave, when you hear a Heisenberg call out to you.
Each Heisenberg has this odd smugness to their voice, you find. Despite their familial history, you find that there mutations seem to have exacerbated their material indulgence rather than birthing a smarter breed of human. It's unforgivable but you tolerate them for your Lady.
"Do you know what happened to my last retainer?"
"As I recall," you say without stopping, "they went for a trip to a natural aquarium."
"Do you know where?"
"I'm afraid not." You lie pleasantly and leave. Killing the last Heisenberg retainer had been a personal vendetta, one that not even the Lady knew of with any great detail. And it would remain so.
...
You check the kitchen first. Her pet was a social being, even if no one would talk to her, and would often come to your side to watch your staff work. You did have to admire that she kept herself apart, at the very least.
When you don't find her, you walk calmly to your room and grab your gun. You reload it and then attach the silencer to it before walking to her secret room. You'd found it one day while exploring the hidden passages, looking for a quicker way to the servants quarters.
It was barely a closet but it had small memorabilia from her home life which must bring her comfort. Lady Dimitrescu was not surprised when you told her, her curled hair shining as she took long drags from her cigarette.
You would have done something about it, had she not forbidden you from acting.
It was empty when you got there but you noticed that one of her pictures was rumpled and the air had a faint whiff of cologne.
You followed it.
Half an hour later, you were pleasantly warmed up and found her pet in a subterranean level. Ruined only by the fact that she was held at knife point. The Moreau staff member looked at you, cutting her throat slightly, and you fired a bullet into his hand. His knife hits the floor and he shrieks, which is a sound you're very sick of, and you fire another bullet into his kneecaps.
"The Madame is looking for you." You say to her pet when he's stopped screaming.
She steps away as you haul him over your shoulder, putting the gun away into your apron pocket. The man kicks and you squeeze his knees.
You give the pet a once over, trying hard to maintain a neutral face, "Quite the predicament you're in, isn't it?"
She dips her head and stands perfectly still, "Yes," she whispers, "you cannot tell her—"
You shut her up with a dismissive gesture, "Don't be a fool."
"I'm not trying to be. What am I suppose to do?" She asks doefully, her lip wobbling.
"Be silent, if you can manage it." You sigh, covering how you're rolling your eyes at the melodramatic display and grab her by the back of the collar.
You drag her down the corridor, making sure to avoid the well used hallways. For her part, she keeps her eyes wide and scared, letting herself be dragged and curling her shoulders in. You wait until you're in the ballroom before you speak.
"What did he ask?"
"I'm not sure, it was in a weird language." She's crying now but it only makes you angry.
You walk the entire length of the massive area, "Could you repeat one of the words?"
"I can't." She sobs and you wish she would stop. "It was gibberish."
"Try to understand," you say, "I will safeguard this castle, if you can't help me then I suppose I wouldn't mind watching the Lady punish you."
She stares, "What?"
"It seems that I may have to omit some things. I would need to lie a bit, of course, but only if you're dishonest with me now."
"Why would you—?"
"Because," you say waiting for her to stand so you can descend the steps, "you're a walking information leak. I will stopper you, even if I must goad the Lady into doing it."
She stumbles beside you, hiding her expression before looking at you with a strange gleam in her eyes. "You care about this place?"
Its presented too innocently for you to think it isnt loaded and you wonder who she has been talking to, "She breaks things when she's angry," you say instead of answering, watching her jolted reaction, "It's why you are so important. Pets don't break quite as quickly as vases."
She averts her eyes. You can understand why the Lady picked her, really, but you wish she hadn't. If this pet doesn't survive after today, you may advise that she pick another who is a great deal more stupid than this one. Or just not keep cattle as a pet and get a dog instead.
You're almost certain she was talking with the man before the knife was pulled. You can't trust her, even if the Lady seems to.
You banish the thought when Miss Daniela appears before you. Her face is stony and she looks upset when she sees your passive expression.
"Mother doesn't like when people touch her property. You know that."
You'd completely forgotten. You release Lady Dimitrescu's pet. "Apologies," you say blankly, "I was unsure if she would be able to follow after what happened."
"What happened?" Daniela repeats, with the same mechanical blankness.
You take a second to build up an appropriate level of hesitance in your voice and she waits patiently for it, "This Moreau staff member tried to— force himself upon her," you pause, "was that enough?"
"A tad under done," Daniela critiqued then cleared her throat, "I am sure Mother would excuse handling of her property after such a traumatic event."
"Thank you for your leniency."
The pet watches both of you with wide eyes but without the usual shake she effects. You find yourself in the odd position of wanting to throttle her, "What shall I do with this?" You poke a finger into the man's bullet wound and hear him scream.
Her face lights up and she checks his face. "I shall take him. Oh, and Mother wants her pet by her side."
"And where is she currently?"
"The foyer. One of the Moreau cousins are waiting for this man."
You nod, "He doesn't appear to speak English. And, remember, Miss Daniela, no biting."
"Yes, alright. Let's go."
You herd the pet after Daniela, who continues her unsure meekness by drawing closer to you. You find it ironic. Despire sharing a race with the woman, you know she has more in common with Daniela than she ever could with you.
Thats by design, of course.
By years of education and careful association. But that's worth dust when you enter the foyer and see Lady Dimitrescu's thunderous expression.
And then it hits you. You forgot to talk to Rachel.
#alcina dimitrescu#lady dimitrescu#lady dimitrescus daughters#lady dimitrescu x reader#resident evil 8#A Good Servant#my writing#16+ my friends#specified age do not touch#does it flow 🤔 you tell me i dont write multichapter stuff its hard#no catholic jokes this time round sorry guys :(
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Just Good Business
Pairing: Tommy x Reader
Reader Gender Expression: She/Her pronouns, feminine clothing descriptions
Summary: You are forced to marry Tommy Shelby, but that doesn’t mean you have to make things easy for him.
Length: 1671 words (allegedly)
Warnings: Mentions of forced marriage. Otherwise Bad bitch, chaotic energy and some justified (non violent) rage.
A/N: This was very fun to write!
Also there’s going to be a NSFW part II because the tension? The sheer sexual tension?? Yeah, it needs to happen.
Part II
--
Being a bit impossible to pin down is what you're known for, and you liked that. It was your grandmother who taught you how to be difficult.
When they try to smooth your edges, rip the sandpaper.
You didn't have a natural place in polite society, your family knew this. But your father wasn't going to let you into the family business, either. So he took your brother, your imbecile of a brother, and let him lead instead. Two years later, you're sitting at a dinner table in a fancy restaurant with your parents, your brother who can't look you in the eye, and two gangsters from Birmingham. You could tell they were gangsters because they smelled like new money, and had guns under their blazers. One was an older woman Polly Shelby, and the other was her nephew, Thomas Shelby.
You thought it was any other business meeting, but your brother was fidgeting the way he did when you were younger, and he stole your necklace and broke it but didn't want to tell you. He was hiding something big. Luckily for him and unluckily for you, it quickly became abundantly clear.
"Let's get right to it, we'll settle the debt, put in an accountant who will manage to unfuck you, and take 45% of the resulting profit," Tommy Shelby laid the cards on the table. Your face contorted in confusion. What debt?
"Alright, it's done," your father said, a quiver in his voice along with relief.
"What? That's a terrible bargain," you scoffed. The way your mother turned away, her eyes tearing up, and your brother practically quivering beside you. You met the eyes of Polly Shelby, and something about them told you to brace yourself.
"Is your daughter still upholding the marriage to our dear Thomas?" Polly asked. For a moment, you thought you blacked out. For a moment, you thought you'd forgotten you had a sister. For a moment, you assumed it wasn't the 1920's but the 17-fucking-40's where you may have come with some livestock as well.
"So this is it, huh? This is why you let me go to Paris with my friends last week, Mum? And why Dad said he'd buy me a car? And why Graham won't stop fucking fidgeting?" You asked, looking to your brother who just grimaced at you. There was no out, and you knew it.
"Don't make a scene, y/n," your father told you, tired already as if he'd put up some great fight.
"Well? Are we on?" Polly got us back on track. "I'll need to hear it from her." You looked down at your handbag until you saw the emerald color and not a blinding red.
"You'll take 10% of the resulting profits," you finally said. If you were getting given away, it was going to be at least a good deal.
"40," the deep, Brummie voice of Thomas Shelby came to the party. Your eyes flicked up to meet his icy blue ones.
"12."
"35."
"15."
"33%, and you can go to Paris as much as you'd like," he said his final offer with a smirk. If you weren't so fueled by anger, you'd appreciate it.
"18%, I go to Paris as much as I want, and I won't make your life a living hell. Maybe I'll even kiss you goodbye in the morning, my love," you said in the most charming voice you could muster, which wasn't very. He'd never tell you that's when he knew he liked you, but he didn't have to. You landed on an even 25%. You could go to Paris, he'd get his morning goodbye kiss and some peace from time to time, and you'd get a car that was better than anything your father had planned. You shook on it yourself.
"Welcome to the Shelby's," Polly said when she grasped your hand. You grabbed your bag and turned to Tommy.
"If the car's not a Hispano-Suiza, 2% of that profit comes directly to me," you warned him before walking away.
You should've fucking known that it would be at least partially an adventure. At first, you were mad. You allowed yourself to be easily swayed in the wedding planning, saying yes to the most frivolous things.
"500 bloody pounds for a dress you'll wear once?!" Tommy all but shouted and threw down the receipt on the desk of his office. You sat unnerved in the seat in front of him.
"Once, on the most important day of my life," you said, giving a brief pout and nothing else. Tommy rubbed his chin as he went to refill his glass of whiskey.
"Stubborn, reckless, outlandish even. Sure, you're all of those things. But spoiled? That's a surprise," he said, almost disappointed. You rolled your eyes at his little act.
"Come off it, Shelby. I have very little in this world, least of all a family I can trust. Everything I do have is about to belong to you because I'm a woman with nothing but familial debt. So don't stand there and lecture me about the rights and wrongs of acting out, Thomas. You and my father only listen to money." You stood and were halfway to the door when Tommy blocked your way.
"You've threatened to run away if you had to live with your parents, so we've put you in a grand apartment in London. You have your parties there with all your friends. You spend all the money you'd like and more. When will it end?" He asked. You wondered if he actually cared about the stability of your coping mechanisms, or about you. His hand came up to brush your waist. It was all you needed to come back to your senses. You took a breath and looked up at him.
"Until I'm satisfied," You decided.
Polly was something between annoyed and amused at you. You were loud, as subtle as a cannon, and possibly more stubborn than her nephew. There wasn't a week that went by where Tommy wasn't talking about something you'd done.
"Tommy, have you tried going along with something she says?" Polly suggested one day when you'd called not finding a proper wedding venue an "emergency." Tommy leaned back in thought, then picked up the phone. Perhaps his aunt was right... like usual.
"If this is kidnap, it's very ironic," you said as you stumbled along the gravel. Your ridiculous fiancé had taken you to an undisclosed location. Now, the only thing guiding you was Tommy, whose hand was over your eyes.
"It's not a kidnapping. On the contrary, I've come to take you home," Tommy said before his hand lifted. You blinked the blur away to see a large house. Well, let's call a spade a spade. It was a mansion if you'd ever seen one.
"Holy hell," you breathed.
"This is Arrow House, Ms. y/l/n. It's got everything you could need and hopefully what you want. Here's a map." He pulled a thick piece of paper from his coat pocket. "Let me know if I've missed anything."
Crying wasn't in your repertoire. Even the events of the past few months hadn't done you in. But, you made an exception and allowed a few to leak while you looked around. You could feel your betrothed’s eyes watching you take it all in, but it didn't matter when the home was breathtaking. When you came back to the foyer, you couldn't help but tweak an eyebrow at Tommy.
"Have you got a crush on me, Shelby?" You asked, or accused rather. He just chuckled and grabbed your hand, leading you towards the door.
"Let's go see the stables."
The wedding was grander than was even sensible. Tommy didn't know how you forged the guest list or who most of these people were, but you told him if he helped you hang drapes, you'd explain your itemized list. Now that was a sight to see. You could only stand it for a bit and did what you usually did at parties. You found quiet place on a balcony overlooking the wedding reception turned memorable party that spilled into the large venue's gardens.
"Well, we've done it, Mrs. Shelby," Tommy said, walking up from behind you with two champagne glasses. You took one with a broad smile.
"Thank you, Mr. Shelby. I'd have to agree."
"Are you having a good time?"
"Sure, are you? This is your wedding gift," you said, motioning to the crowds.
"And how is that?" He looked over the railing with you. You started pointing people out.
"Over there is the Commissioner and his wife's sister. London police chief over there with his mistress. Lady Catherine Wilcox, one of the most influential socialites in the country, is by the fountain. She's been eyeing Arthur all night too. And so on." You nodded triumphantly. "At those parties I was having in London, I only said good things about you, which is annoying to admit but here we are. Thomas Shelby, your wedding is your introduction to the upper echelon society." He turned and leaned against the railing, and you followed his lead.
"I guess I owe you a thank you," he said.
"I’d say so. You’re on several guest lists and incredibly important customer lists now.” You cupped your ear and leaned closer. “Let's hear it.”
"Thank you, y/n." He rolled his eyes, then looked at you with a sigh. "Are you happy, then?" He asked.
"Better, I'm satisfied."
With a clink of your glasses, your relationship could begin. And when Tommy leaned in to kiss you, you didn't pull away.
"This seems like a crush," were your first words when you parted.
"You're the one who made us late to the ceremony," he pointed out.
"No one even noticed."
"I think they did," he begged to differ.
"You weren't supposed to come to find me before the wedding. It's bad luck," you tsked Tommy, taking another sip of the bubbling drink, which did nothing to help the heat creeping up your neck.
"Just had to make sure you didn't run off." He shrugged but moved closer to whisper in your ear. "And I believe, Mrs. Shelby, the dress wasn't even on yet."
"Don't get your hopes up, it meant nothing." You waved it away, not convinced or convincing. Tommy nodded then kissed you again.
"Right, right. It's just good business."
--
Tommy Tag List: @soleil-dor
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01 - Mamma Mia
Summary: Maiko just wanted her good ol’ dad to walk her down the aisle. So, she invited the three men from your past in hopes of meeting him. The only problem was, which one of them is it?
Pairings: Oikawa Tooru x Reader, Bokuto Koutarou x Reader, Kuroo Tetsurou x Reader
Disclaimer: This is based on the movie directed by Phyllida Loyd and written by Catherine Johnson which is inspired by the music of the pop group ABBA.
catch up here!
"Kuroo-san?"
The said man looked up from his desk to his secretary. He was buried deep in paperwork; his sleeves rolled up to his elbows; coat off. He raised an eyebrow in question. The secretary walked into his office and handed him a cream-coloured envelope with a waxed seal. Kuroo flipped the envelope over and there at the back of it was his name, written in perfect penmanship.
“What is this?”
“Came in the mail today. It looks like an invitation of some sort.” The secretary bowed in respect and went out of the room. Kuroo was naturally curious. Without wasting any second he opened the envelope carefully and pulled out its contents. A neatly folded piece of paper was in between his fingers along with a simple, yet elegantly, designed card with the names Umeda Minoru and Obara Maiko, on it.
“A wedding?” He had said out loud. He couldn’t recall knowing anyone with those names. Although, the last name Obara sounded familiar. And he couldn’t even remember any of his friends getting married soon. He flipped open the paper and read the letter.
Hi Tetsurou!
I know it’s been a long time but I hope you can come to Maiko-chan’s wedding. It will be held in Kalokairi. Remember the small island we used to go to?
I hope you can make it.
From,
Y/N
His heart skipped a small beat as he read your name at the bottom. That’s why the last name was familiar. Obara Y/N. He hasn’t heard anything from you for how many years and now, out of the blue, you invite him to a random girl’s—a relative, maybe? Was she your cousin?—wedding on the island where it all started. Maybe that’s why you invited him? Because the island reminded you of him.
No. That can’t be right. From what he knows, you hated his guts. Hated it since the moment he left you there. But if you were inviting him to a wedding, could it mean that you’re not mad anymore?
With his mind going miles a minute, he checked the date on the invitation and called his secretary back in to book the soonest flight.
—
Bokuto slipped his shades on as he walked through the docks. He waved at the other boat owners as he passed by them. The sun felt warm on his skin and he just knew that this was gonna be a good day. When he reached his spot, he smiled widely, beaming at the vessel in front of him.
"Good morning, sunshine." He greeted no one in particular. He hopped onto the deck of his beloved sailboat, running his fingers on the grabrail. He picked up the ropes lying on the ground and prepared the boat for voyage. "We're going on a trip for a few days, my sweet."
Patting his pocket, he pulled out the slightly crumpled envelope out of it. He couldn't help smiling down at the invitation in his hand. It was a bit peculiar to get a letter from you—a wedding invitation no less!—after how many years. Your brief...meeting with him only lasted for a week and yet Bokuto yearned for your presence even after that.
Sure he's been with his fair share of women over the years but, there was no one quite like you if he had to be honest. Looking back down at the invitation, he was glad it wasn't your wedding you were inviting him to. He couldn't help but think of the 'what ifs' once he gets there…
Excitement pulsing through his veins, he prepared to set off into the sea, back to Greece.
—
"Aeropuerto por favor. Rápido." Oikawa told the cab driver as he got on. The driver understood immediately, despite Oikawa's accent. Soon enough, they were zooming through the city of Buenos Aires. He checked his bag for his passport, wallet and phone. He also caught a glimpse of the envelope he got just two days ago. He hesitated in the slightest before deciding to pull it out and re-reading the letter.
Y/N…., he had thought to himself. If there was one thing Oikawa couldn’t let go of it was volleyball. But if you were thrown into the equation, he just might give it up for you. He didn’t even know what had happened; he just met you one day and boom, he was in love. He loved you with all of his heart and he was willing to follow you wherever you wanted to go. But alas, after that one night, you just decided to disappear, leaving a small note.
He doesn’t really know why he had said yes to this wedding. He doesn’t know what to expect when he finally gets to Kalokairi. Closure? Rekindling with an old flame? He huffed out, dismissing the idea. Only one thing is for certain: he wanted to see you. So bad.
Letting out a deep sigh, he placed the envelope back in his bag. His palms started growing sweaty at the thought of seeing you in a matter of hours.
—
A shrill scream echoed throughout the docks, catching the attention of the locals. Maiko ran at a fast pace, meeting her friends halfway, who had just got off the small motorboat from the mainland. She got to her friend Nana first,—who was the tallest in their friend group—picking up her tiny frame and spinning her in a hug. She turned to Eri—the toughest of the bunch—and gave her a hug so tight. When they parted, a soft glint on Maiko’s hand caught her friends’ eyes.
“Maiko-chan!” Nana gushed. She held Maiko’s left hand in hers and there, a small, elegant ring sat on her ring finger, shining under the strong rays of the sun.
“I’m jealous!” Eri pouted jokingly. “Now, I want one.”
Maiko blushed, trying to cover her face. “Stop it! I’m getting married in a few days!” She squealed in excitement. The three girls picked up the luggages and walked up the dock. Maiko wrapped her arms around both of her friends, feeling giddier than ever.
“I’m so glad you’re both here because…,” she paused, the smile on her face growing, “I have a secret.” Nana and Eri looked at each other. Their eyes grew wide in realization and knelt in front of Maiko.
“Maiko-chan! You’re already pregnant?!” Eri shrieked. Maiko laughed loudly and dismissed the thought.
“No, no, no! It’s not that.” She grew quiet for a moment, pulling her friends closer. “I invited my dad to the wedding.”
“You’re kidding!”
“You finally found him?”
“Uhh, not exactly.” Her friends were confused. She smiled and led them to a nearby rock by the end of the docks where they sat down. She breathed out a sigh, “You know what my mom says whenever I ask about my dad. They met in the summer, fell in love, but my dad left even before she realized she was pregnant with me. All these years, I’ve accepted that that’s all I’ll never know about him.
“But then,” she rummaged through the tote bag she brought with her, pulling out an old, worn journal. “I found this.” she said, proud.
“What is it?” Eri asked.
“It’s my mom’s old diary the year she was pregnant with me.”
“Oh my god!” Eri sat closer to Maiko as she opened the journal. “So we’re really gonna read Y/N-obasan’s journal?”
“Oh shush.” Nana dismissed, sitting on Maiko’s right side.
“July seventeenth,” Maiko started. “Kuroo—Tetsurou as he insisted to be called—rowed me over to the little island. That’s here, Kalokairi. He took me on a small picnic by the beach. We danced under the moonlight by the beach. He kissed me by the beach and…,” Maiko trailed off. Nana and Eri waited.
“And what?” Nana asked.
“That’s it. They did it.” Maiko wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. Nana and Eri burst out laughing. She smiled and continued reading, “Tetsurou’s the one for me. I just know it. I’ve never felt love like this before.”
“So, this Kuroo-san is your father?” Nana questioned. Maiko eyed her, silently telling her that there was more to the story.
“For the time that we’ve been together, Tetsurou has said he loves me, several times. But now, he’s announced that he’s actually engaged. He just left earlier this morning to get married and...I’m never gonna see him again.”
“Aww, poor obasan.” Nana pouted, sympathizing you.
The three of them continued their trek up the island, while Maiko continued to read out loud the contents of the journal.
“August fourth, what a night! I met someone. Bokuto Koutarou. He was vacationing around the mainland, visiting his aunt. I passed by and everything clicked. He rented a motorboat, so I took him to the little island. Even though I know that I’m still in love with Tetsurou, Kou is just so...WILD!” The trio widened their eyes at the comment. “One thing led to another and…”
“So there’s a Bokuto-san as well?” Maiko just grinned excitedly and continued.
“August eleventh, Oikawa Tooru appeared out of the blue. I saw him struggling to order food from a restaurant so I helped him out. He was on a layover for a flight to Buenos Aires that got delayed for a few days. So I said, why not show him the island. He was so sweet and understanding. And he’s so pretty too! Oh! I couldn’t help it! And…”
They’ve finally reached the top of the island where your villa was. You ran a small hotel on the island, which wasn’t as successful as you thought it would be seeing as there weren’t many tourists and not many people knew about the island itself. Nevertheless, you were able to care for Maiko and that was all that mattered.
“Oh my god!” Eri squealed. “Y/N-obasan was so adventurous wasn’t she?”
“I can’t blame her. I mean have you seen her? She looks good even now!” Nana sighed. A bustling sound was heard from the entrance of the villa, with you appearing not seconds later, a broom in hand. You glanced in their direction. You did a double-take when you saw your daughter’s friends, waving at you. Maiko quickly hid the journal behind her back.
“Oh! You’re here already!” You set the broom by the wall, wiping your hands down on your old overalls. “It’s been so long!”
Nana and Eri walked over to you. You engulfed them in tight hugs and sweet kisses on their cheeks. You held Eri’s face in your palms, brushing her hair away from her face. You turned to Nana, placing a hand on her cheek.
“Look at the both of you! You’re practically all grown up! I remember when you were all wreaking havoc around here.” You beamed at them, proud. “And you look like you’re already having fun!”
“We are!” Eri cheered. You hummed in response. Your mind went somewhere else for a quick moment—a memory—and you mumbled,
“I used to have fun, too.”
“Oh, we know.” Nana quipped. Maiko pinched her arm subtly. You eyed them suspiciously, not really hearing what Nana had said which Maiko was thankful for.
“Well, I better leave you all to it. I know you have some bridesmaids duties to get to. I’ll see you all later.” You picked up your broom again and disappeared further into the villa.
When they were sure you were gone, the trio breathed out a sigh of relief. Maiko led them to her room for the moment as her friends’ belongings were getting checked into their respective rooms. They rushed inside, away from listening ears and wandering eyes.
“So, who is it?” Nana asked. “Is it Tetsurou-san, Bokuto-san or Oikawa-san?”
Maiko just shrugged her shoulders, laying down on her bed. “I don’t know.”
“Well,” Eri interjected. “Who did you invite?”
Maiko just looked at them expressively. Her smile grew wider as her friends finally realized what she had done. Eri and Nana screamed. They jumped up and down in excitement—and disbelief—at their friend. They knew how impulsive Maiko was but this was just a bit too much, wasn’t it?
“Do they know?” Nana’s eyes had widened.
Maiko rolled her eyes at her. “Of course not. Do you think I can just write to them and say, ‘Please come to my wedding. You might be my father.’? No.” She shook her head. “They think that mom sent the invite. And with what we’ve learned today, they all said yes!”
—
Kuroo was panting heavily as he stared at the ferry not too far from the jetty, buzzing away to Kalokairi. He cursed under his breath kicking at the ground. A few seconds later, another man was beside him, panting just as he was, staring at the ferry.
“Shit.” Oikawa muttered. Kuroo scoffed and nodded in agreement.
“I know.” He said. Oikawa turned to look at Kuroo, eyeing him up and down. They trudged back to the ticketing booth and checked the schedule for the next available ferry.
“I don’t speak Greek.” Oikawa groaned, not understanding a single thing on the board.
“Deftera.” Kuroo read out loud. “Monday.”
“Ah, shit.” Oikawa cursed. He hastily opened his bag and pulled out the invitation, checking the date of the wedding. This catches Kuroo’s eyes.
So, he’s here for the wedding too, huh. He thought to himself. “Bride or groom?” He asked the man. Oikawa looked at him, startled. It took him a moment to realize that Kuroo was also going to Kalokairi for the wedding.
“Oh, bride’s.” Oikawa answered. “Although, I haven’t actually met her.”
“Hey, hey, hey!” A loud voice called. “Up here!” Bokuto called, as he was sitting atop of the mast of his boat which was docked near the jetty. Kuroo and Oikawa looked at him, confused.
“You guys need a ride to Kalokairi?”
taglist: @yikes-buddy / @ushi-please / @melodiamore / @akaashi-todoroki / @honeymoneyy / @minty-mangos-world /
a/n: thank you so much for all the support (despite me just posting the masterlist.) i’ve re-read and edited this first chapter a lot of times and i hope i’ve met your first expectations for this series. lemme tell you that first chapters are the hardest to do. i apologize if some characters seem out-of-character or weird, especially my OCs. i’m not used to OCs since i’ve only ever written reader inserts. stil, i hope you love them as much as i do!
i actually have no idea how i’m gonna steer this story so, here’s to winging it. haha! leave some comments! i love you all!
#b writes#mamma mia#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu imagine#kuroo#kuroo x reader#kuroo imagine#bokuto#bokuto x reader#bokuto imagine#oikawa#oikawa x reader#oikawa imagine#kuroo tetsurou#kuroo tetsurou x reader#kuroo tetsurou imagine#bokuto koutarou#bokuto koutarou x reader#bokuto koutarou imagine#oikawa tooru#oikawa tooru x reader#oikawa tooru imagine
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Promised Part Five (The Great Mini-series, Arranged Marriage AU)
A/N: Here it finally is!!!! Sorry it took forever, life happens.
Word Count: 4K
Summary: When the Emperor’s behavior gets your families alliance with Russia in danger, you agree to marry his best friend Grigor in order to make sure the alliance does not fall apart. You’re tossed into the Russian court and into the arms and bed of a Russian count, dodging his jealous ex lover, trying to survive the unpredictability.... but...what about yuou two? Are you and Grigor finally...feeling something for each other?
Warnings: Swearing, drunkeness, mentions of sex and nudity, marriage, and an in universe reference I couldn’t resist.
“Come here Sonya! Come here!” Lady Svenska cooed, wiggling her fingers.
The puppy trotted to her and she squealed in delight.
Tatiana bent her knees, her lime green dress bunching below her like icing on a cake as she did.
“Sonya! Sonya come!” she gestured.
With a happy trot, Sonya waddled over. She reached up, her tiny tail wagging.
“Oooo, good girl! Good girl!”
You had been invited to a tea party with the other ladies. Although you had gotten closer to the empress, you feared if they would see you as an enemy. Especially hearing of Catherine’s last tea party with them. So walking in, you brought your secret weapon. And it worked.
The only woman it seemed who was not having the time of her life with what was happening was Georgiana. Dressed in her purple gown and largest wig, she sat a little slumped on the couch. She was sipping her tea every now and then but crossing her arms. She stared daggers at the dog and how it trotted. She preferred any small circle that came over to obsess over the latest scandalous affair, but even then she kept one eye on Sonya as if the dog was a wolf ready to attack. She didn’t dare say a word to you. And you didn’t say a word to her. But if there was nothing said, then nothing bad could happen.
Smiling, you helped yourself to a red macaroon, delighting in the crunch and cream of it’s taste. Lady Svenska walked over to you and asked.
“Can she do tricks?” she questioned.
“Almost. She’s getting better at walking. She used to pull and run a lot, but she’s better at being obedient.”
“And she doesn’t tear things up?” she asked.
“Only sometimes. I have to watch where my dresses are stored,” you answered.
“Ah! She’s such a good dog! How lovely of you to bring her here, Madame Dymov!”
Georgiana’s eyes went dark.
“Will you come to our ball throwing this evening! It is most fun! Mine might go another inch!”
“I’d be delighted to! And be sure to tell me more about that maid with the baron old enough to be her grandfather too! And with copous details!” you added on.
“Oh! I do like you! And what of the Empress?”
“Well, we read. And we chat…”
“But all that reading!? Isn’t it time consuming!”
“A little. Her books can take time. I reread pages over and over…but in the best way. I suppose. It keeps her happy.”
“If you have any gossip about her, please share!”
“I..I, uh, will!” you promise.
“First of all, have you any plans or gifts to give her on her birthday, it’s coming up in about a month!”
“Hmm, I don’t know…” you mumbled.
At that moment your husband entered the room. He seemed a little uncomfortable with all of the flowers and pastel dresses, eyeing birds singing ditties in shiny cages and macaroons piled to his chest on platters.
“Oh, Y/N…where is Y/N?” he asked to one lady in a pink dress and grey wig.
She pointed in your direction and he smiled.
As he walked by, he passed the couch where Georgiana was sitting. Her shoe tapped his calf and he turned.
“Hello, Grigor…” she said with a faded grin.
“Hello, George,” he replied politely. Somehow, your blood felt hot. But yet, the marriage was over, so what if they even talked? He probably just enjoyed you talking with him and occasionally sleeping with him. But no, they had to be soulmates. And it was better not to disturb them. After all, despite the suddenness of the marriage, it would work. He would be happy.
“How is the party?” he asked, hands placed behind the back.
“Going perfect. We’re being introduced to the loud, hairy creature that lifts her leg when she pisses. Her dog is there too.” She quipped with a surprisingly relieved smile.
You froze. Little Sonya recognized Grigor and ran up to him, oblivious to how white his face was turning. A few fans were spread, and you barely heard feminine whispers of “…quite bitchy…” It got a little quiet. Even with the string quartet in the back was playing at a piano as if they wanted to hear what would happen next to.
Getting up, you turned around to leave them alone. Let them take it out. Let him laugh, Let her smile. Maybe even fuck against the wall like you noticed the odd couple doing on a night of reveling in the palace, no matter who might see or hear.
“George. I can’t control what you do on your own. But when you are with me, you will not speak about my wife in that matter.”
Pausing, you turned around. A couple quiet tears fell down your cheeks.
“You’re an esteemed lady of the court with the world at your fingertips. She’s a poor creature thrown into an arranged marriage, stolen from another country, and little to never to see any of her family or friends again while you just lay down and let Peter put fruit in your pussy and drink champagne.”
Wiping away tears with your hands, you stood still, not sure what to say. Grigor continued, truly angered and passionate.
“I didn’t marry her because of you. And she didn’t marry me so she could have my cock when you couldn’t. I did this so that we all- we all-“ he gestured to the people in the room “won’t be fucking ripped apart by Swede’s in a fortnight thanks to her families army. You will show her what little compassion you have in your tiny heart. You could even show her an ounce of gratitude for the sacrifice she and I made for the safety of everyone here, including yours. Or else I could have said no and let the swedes stab you in your tits when you’re asleep in the emperor’s bed. And I wouldn’t lose a wink of sleep over it too. But I did.”
She froze. There was even a couple of gasps.
Scooping the tiny dog in his arms, he turned ot you promptly.
“I hope you’re enjoying yourself.”
“I…I am…” you answered. “But I’m tired, let’s go home and play cards.”
“I agree.”
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
A week later, Grigor had partied so much with the Emperor last night, wrestling and playing with some man named Leon or whoever. You peaked in the door, and yawning, retired to your own apartments to sleep even if alone.
Waking up briefly in the grey air, you felt him crawling into bed at four in the morning. So you let him sleep in as you took Sonya on her morning walk. Besides, she would pout and whine if you didn’t walk at her certain time.
“Here you go, I know, Papa can’t be there-but I will,” you assured the dog.
You made your way through the halls into the gardens. Sonya was already getting bigger. The collar and leash made for her a while ago was getting snug on her fluffy body.
Enjoying the forest, you heard the rhythmic crunch of the leaves and sticks beneath Sonya’s prancing paws. The cold air stung your lungs in the best way. The sky looked clear and crisp.
Sonya pointed her snout in one direction. She began pulling and barking.
“What is it? Some sort of creature!” you thought, walking forward.
It wasn’t a mouse of squirrel, there was a person slumped against a tree, sitting on the dirt. Walking closer, you made out a dark green skirt and a hat, but a head of dark, curly hair made loose. She reeked of vodka and beer. Her face was pale to where she seemed ill, rather than the lovely cream color of her skin. And beneath her eyes there were several bags.
“G..Georgiana…”
She turned her head to you, squinting.
“Yes…” she grunted.
“What are you doing here?”
She began to laugh a little, bitterly.
“I could ask the same…what are you doing here?”
“I’m walking Sonya…she needs to be exercised so she won’t get into trouble from being bored,” you explained, gripping the leash.
“Huh, I know sometimes…sometimes Grigor goes with you…” her voice was deep and throaty, far from her usual speaking tone. As if every word was choked up.
She seemed so pitiful you didn’t have the heart to chafe her.
“Yes, yes he does…”
Her exhausted eyes wandered forward into the grove of trees. She kept speaking to you.
“Sometimes we’d walk together. Only if it was nice. We did everything together. Walking. Eating. Dancing. Bathing together. Did you know…I even got my portrait painted and he kept it in his room! Right next to his bed…he…he cared for me so much to where I was right there with him every morning even when I wasn’t next to him and now…now he hates me…”
She began to sniffle, and a few tears worked up.
“No. No, I don’t think he hates you at all…”
“Why did he speak to me that way?”
“He just…he got emotional. And he has been emotional because he loves you. He’s every bit as sad as you are for not marrying…”
Sonya walked over to the crying woman. Alerted by the sounds, she walked over and sniffed at her wet face. She broke out a smile.
“But the truth is…in this court, there’s plenty of women who’ve fucked Peter. More than half. That’s just a fact of life. But I… I love it. I love having men want me, being worshipped, loved, is that wrong?”
“It’s normal,” you admitted. “it’s normal to want to be loved.”
“And the things it gives you. It’s not the least bad. I have all sorts of things. Dresses. Hats. A high position in court. Security. Comfort. Occasionally I can change laws and save lives with just a word-imagine that! And jewels. Jewels I used to dream of having. And I get to enjoy making love to a man who’s skilled at it. It might be the only way for a woman here to move up. That’s the way it is, is that wrong? Is it wrong to enjoy fucking and love a man too? For them to be separate men? They do it all the time and no one bats an eye bit when I do…”
She finally fell down into sobs.
“And he just...he couldn’t accept it. He claimed he loved me, and I… I love him, I still do, he just couldn’t accept me as I am and this world as it is…I thought he knew me…and that I knew him…”
She began to cry more; Sonya reached over and began to lick her face. She laughed at the ridiculous feeling of a dog’s tongue right on your nose and you began to laugh too.
“Georgiana…I’m so sorry I yelled at you that first day…I saw you as a threat and didn’t stop to think what you would feel. How I would feel if I was in your shoes…”
“Ugh, you’re…you’re as saccharine as…as…I don’t even know, Y/N. I’d put you in my…my mouth and my blood would rush, and they’d have to let it out with slugs.”
Taking out a handkerchief, you began to wipe her tears from her face.
“I’m not the one in tears…but…he used to keep a portrait of you…” you questioned.
“He did…is it there? Maybe….”
“Not anymore…” you explained flatly.
So that explained the circular area on the wall next to the bed.
“I know you really do love Grigor. And you care for him…but loving someone is hard. I love my family and friends back home, or unless I wanted to make all of them suffer or even get killed, I had to let them go to come here…sometimes, there are things you have to let go and move on from…” you assured her. You aren’t a bad person for wanting those things. You’re a smart person for figuring out how to get them. I admire you for it.”
“I just keep wondering…I keep wondering what would happen if he said yes…if he agreed to the terms…we’d be so happy…”
And he would see you with Peter and be miserable. Then god knows what would happen you thought.
You took her arm and helped her to her shaky legs.
“But there’s no use in that. Here, let’s get you back to the palace. I think after you get some water and some sleep, you might feel better…”
“But Y/N, Grigor I think…he’s in denial how Peter works here. If a woman needs anything in court, and if Peter picks you…he picks you. And, well, there’s nothing you can do about it…”
Your stomach lurched.
“Grigor might want a faithful wife. He might’ve thought he got that with you but…defying the Emperor is a risk. Too huge. Why say no? After all, he’s a genius at fucking so it could be worse…”
“You need water, Georgiana. And you need to clean up. Then you’ll feel better…” you interrupted, trying to mother her away and ignoring the fear in your gut.
But as you were strolling later in the week, returning from another one of the Empresses’s private discussions, you saw a few ladies eye down at the book. Perhaps they judged you. Perhaps they were jealous. But one bespecaled face saw you, smiled, and then hurried up.
“Orlo! How are you?”
“Y/N-er-Madame Dymov! Enough about me already- I heard the Empress gave you a copy of the Rousseau! What do you think!?” he asked excitedly.
His dark eyes glittered at the book in your hands. Holding it up to him you let him inspect it.
“I was…I was shocked at first. His ideas felt like…like a blast of cold wind. But I…he made good points. And I found myself agreeing after some time…” you explained with a shrug.
“He’s one of my favorites, and tehre’s so much…so much inside there. But I…I wish I could explain it all…”
“Let’s go to my place, I’ll call for a plate...” you offered with a shrug and a smile.
Introducing him to the drawing room, he settled down shyly on the seat in front of the fire. You brought in some tea with a strawberry cake and wound up talking for a straight hour. He got his own turn to pet on little Sonya as she licked his fingers from the cake crumbs. You discussed Rousseau, then he went on to talk about Voltaire, Plato, Paine. Ideas stretched you and you found yourself talking about things you could never imagine debating about with anyone. About people. Power. Faith. Life. Death. Purpose, if there was one at all. Your cup became cold and you had to reheat it by pouring some liquid into it.
Orlo glowed as he explained it all. He was not condescending. In fact, it felt like being in school with a good teacher. You understood and appreciated it even more. You were amazed with the depth of knowledge he had. Beneath his mousy exterior, there was a brilliant mind. Perhaps even genius. You were amazed in him. Strands of his hair loosened out and he smiled more, seeming relaxed and confident. Far more confident than you ever knew him to be in public.
“But out of all of them, I think my favorite is…”
The door creaked as it opened.
His head turned and you saw Grigor walking in. His face was pink, and his eyebrows crossed.
“Hello Orlo, what are you doing with my wife?” he asked, his lips tight and his voice firm.
“I, uh…” he found himself blubbering. His posture slouched and his hands retreated.
Standing at once, you walked up to Grigor with as much poise as you could.
“The empress gifted me with a book and Orlo was asking me about it over tea, nothing more…” you explained plainly.
“It’s fascinating. Isn’t it!” you added, throwing back a look.
Orlo nodded shyly, getting out of the seat like it had spikes.
“Very.”
“Oh, alright…” Grigor replied quietly.
Once Orlo thanked you for hosting him and shuffled out, Grigor’s eyes never left his steps.
He was quiet over dinner. You had to ask questions about his day and have Sonya’s begging fill the silence. Later, you changed into your nightgown to see Grigor was already in bed.
You saw him curl up to the other side. Not turning around, holding the blanket over his shoulders and leaving your side disproportionally cold.
With a huff, you placed your hands on your hips.
“What is it?” You had a guess, but you wanted to hear it from him.
“Nothing. Nothing’s wrong” he said in a tone that said something was definitely wrong.
“What is it…tell me…” you wheedled, sitting on the bed and leaning closer to him.
He turned around.
“I understand we agreed to follow orders to marry. Not for us. Our countries, the safety of your family and for their workers and tenets to not go hungry, for protection, the alliance, and for Russia to succeed against the Swedes… but I know you didn’t choose to marry me…if you…if you…are in love… then I guess it would make it easier…but you will at least be honest with me and not play around when you fall in love with some man!”
“In love? With Orlo?!” you added.
His head snapped back at the sound of his name.
“If you love the prick, then that’s fine! It will make you bear being here better- it’s all fine!” He if it will make you bear this, bear being married to me…”
“I’m not in love with Orlo!” you laughed, placing a hand on his shoulder. He flinched a little, but didn’t turn away.
“What…you aren’t? Both of you always talk together.”
“I always talk with the empress, and Tatyana and everyone else too. They’re my friends. He’s my friend as well… and…I…I promised you I won’t hurt you. That I will do my best not to hurt you…and you’re obviously hurt…” you reasoned.
The clock chimed the hour in the back.
“I…yes, I was…I had memories of when…you know…” he muttered out, looking down.
You folded your arms and turned away from him.
“Well, have you ever kissed Georgiana since our marriage? I guess you can run back to her, like I’m apparently running to Orlo. Should I be worried about her?”
“Uh-no! Not at all! We’ve barely talked since the betrothal! I talk more to Sonya than I do to her in a fortnight!” he said, pointing to the dog curled asleep on her pillow.
You crossed your arms and started to laugh a little. A smile cracked on his thin face as well.
“If I have no reason to suspect you of anything with George, you have no reason to suspect anything of me and Orlo!” you reasoned with a shrug.
Leaning forward, you pulled more of the cover to your side. He relented.
Both of you were tense. Words left your voice.
“Just dinner and drinks with your friend, nothing more. Perfectly normal.” You assured.
Even if it meant eating in his chambers with large portraits all over the wall and a big green bed on the other side. Peter stood up and greeted you both. His arms were wide, pearls dangling from his neck.
“Ah, hello! Join me!” Peter cheered. “Grigor-make yourself at home! There’s already some food.
You carefully walked in, placing yourself on the couch and folded your hands in front of your lap. Unsure of what to do or say. A finger nudged you.
“Here, Y/N…here’s the seat for you!” your husband said, taking his large hands around your waist and picking you up as you let out a smile.
Grigor placed you on his lap, like he did on your wedding. Smiling, you accepted the feeling of him nearby and settled your weight. The closeness far more natural than ever. Grigor’s arms were warm as they passed dishes around from one man to the Emperor. A serf poured a Kiev vdoka and you enjoyed yourselves.
“I tell you- fucked a horse! It’s just a rumor-but can you believe it!” he said.
Laughing in spite of yourself, you shook your head insisting “no, I don’t!”
Smiling. Laughing. Everything felt normal. You laughed so hard you almost snorted your drinkand covered your mouth, laughing more at the dirtier humor. Years ago, your mother would have become so uncomfortable at such words she would excuse herself and complain about it later. Laughs held back were finally released, you jaw uhrt and your cheeks felt hot.
“And that’s what hapoens when you use the duck whistle on the balcony-“Oh, Grigor! Have I fucked your wife yet?”
The drink you were sipping almost spat out of your mouth and you coughed it out. Both of you froze again. You felt Grigor tense up. His breath quickened. His face turned white and then red and then white again. His jaw clenched and his nostrils flared.
Turning your head back, you began to give a charming smile at the emperor, even giving the little half smile you noticed to do. You decided if the subject came up, you would be prepared.
“Your highness, of yes, of course we’ve fucked. Several times!” you said.
Where he couldn’t see, you kicked Grigor’s leg to alert him.
“Oh, really!” he said.
“Ah! What a Casanova you are, Emperor! Losing track! But…”
You circled the rim of your glass, and then added on.
“I have an eternally dry pussy, can’t suck cock to save my life, and an ass so tight that deflects any object near the hole so it’s been rather disappointing. It’s a miracle my husband tolerates me. He’s hardly been able to finish the job!”
He tilted his head, pondering it with a hmmmm. Glancing at Grigor, you quickly mouthed “play along.” His eyes bright, he nodded at you, and then to the Emperor in agreement.
“Yes! Fucking Y/N is a total disappointment. Remember her place? They’re boring, plain people even when fucking.”
Peter nodded in agreement, his eyes up to the sky as if thinking about the fake experience. Not that it was to think.
“Humph. I…I think you’re right. It was disappointing. Grigor, if you need me to order you a whore, let me know.”
You kept your hand on his and you saw his eyes dart in confusion and realization, his brain thinking a hundred thoughts.
“Please pour me another drink…” you said, holding your cup to a serf.
“Besdies, Catherine…she’s been having all these ideas about art. And I saw a portrait and I…I cried! I fucking cried-can you believe it? I never knew she could..could even make me feel like that!”
As you left the chambers, you squeezed his hand. Both of you let out a breath and continued some nervous laughter until you were both home.
“That was brilliant!” He praised, sinking in relief in the chair. There was already a fire crackling, drawing warmth into the chilly room.
“I knew he would bring it up, soon. So, I might as well. Now you don’t have to worry about anything…at least for now…” you said with a shrug.
“Oh, but the party tomorrow…you’ll be careful. I think people will be very merry and he might…get carried away…”
“Just give him a galloon a vodka then, he’ll won’t be able to stand.”
--------------------------------------------------
As the party the next night raged on, it struck you that it was Grigor who was well on his way to drinking a gallon of vodka. The rooms glowed yellow orange with all of the candles. Stringed guitars played out dancing tunes with throaty Russian lyrics where although the words were hard to understand, you had to tap your toes. Women walked by with snakes draped over their necks and you stared in frightened awe at the creature, as if in Eden. Your own gown was a pale pink with bows on the stomacher, a ruffled skirt beneath the first one, and you hair done up in flowers and feathers. You even agreed to wear a beauty mark of a small dog on your cheek. Girgor himself had a grey wig and his finest, deep green suit. He eyed plates of vodka, reaching for two small glasses and downing them…and supper would be served in an hour.
You noticed and Empress and Emperor dancing. She swished her pale pink skirt and he twirled in a black skirt, carefree. It was almost like watching a fight, how they were both powerful yet matched each other.”
“Come on, you sad bastards!? Why aren’t you dancing!? Dance! I command you!” Peter cried out in joy.
“Y/N! Y/N- we haven’t danced too much-let’s dance! Dance with me!” Grigor insisted, pulling you further down.
“Grigor, that’s the vodka talking!”
The musicians were warming up for the next piece in the corner.
“I…I don’t know the…” you mumbled in a panic as other couples filled the floor.
“Oh no-just follow me!” He said with a big smile and his face flushed.
Still you ran out with him, mimicking hand movements and your feet trying to keep up with the steps. If you felt him leading you somewhere, you followed. If you sepearted in lines, you kept an eye on him.
“Girgor…do the trick! The trick!” Peter insisted, running up in the middle.
Eyes wide, you saw your husband grab hold of your body.
“Here. Y/N! I can do it- hold on! Jump up.
He lifted you up in his arms and twirled you up, his arms adjusting to hold you up so that he held you up by your legs, your stomach to his face. You could hear him muffling beneath your clothes.
“We need smof practif…”
But Peter laughed and you heard loud applauding as faces turned to look at you. Even George’s own face had a smile, albeit a sad one.
He set you down.
“Let’s try it again, put your leg on my shoulder…now your other leg..ooof! Now, this one is better!”
He lifted you up so high, you realized you were on his shoulders, and emabarrasingly his head was near your crotch. The court applauhded and laughed and huzzahed. It was so fun you almost forgot your fear of being dropped. you laughed as you held onto his shoulders for deaer life, thrilled to see everyone smaller before you. As if they dhrunk or you became a giant. The chandeliers dripping with diamonds were easy to your touch, your fingertips grazed one as Grigor walked in a circle.
“Ha! I knew you could do it good chap!” Peter applauded before asking.
Grigor placed you down with a smile, he placed his hands on your cheeks and for a moment you thought he was going to kiss you, then his eyes wandered to some vodka and he took another shot.
He was singing as the party ended late in the night. You struggled to support him over your shoulders.
“Grigor…be careful…”
Once you got into the room, Sonya woke up from her nap and barked, jumping at your feet. Staggering, you brought him to your bedchambers.
“Let’s get your clothes off…” you said, pulling his coat off and placing it on the floor.
“You wish to see me naked, you could’ve asked, darling…”
Sighing, you poured the hot water into the golden tub.
“If you don’t bathe, then you’re sleeping with Sonya…”
He leaned down in his shift and breeches to the wagging tail beneath him.
“Oh….hello doggie, cute doggie…good doggie…”
“To bath, Grigor!”
Eventually, you got him to bathe enough to where he didn’t reek of alcohol. Once he dried off, you pushed his breeches onto him.
“None of that tonight with you drunk off your head!”
“Can’t I at least kiss you?” he complained childishly.
“Fine, but it stops at kissing!”
Once you finally settled within your own sheets, legs and feet sore from dancing, you barely put the blankets over you when you felt two large arms wrap themselves around you and hug you tight, pulling you close. He laughed a bit before kissing you on top of your head. You smirked and let him obloge. Then you felt him relax.
“Y/N, I love you….”
You froze solid, your stomach dropping.
“What?”
He took a hand and placed it on your cheek again, before it sloppily fell down.
“Y/N, my sweet angel…I love you…”
Shaking your head, you pulled the covers above you both.
“That’s the vodka talking, now go to sleep….”
He went back to holding you, turning you so that your back was turned to him, you felt and smelt his breath as he kept speaking.
“I love you, Y/N. I’m falling in love with you this minute and…I’m fucking terrified…”
You let his arms settle.
“Don’t wanna…get hurt, get shat on…but every day I’m….falling more in love with you…and it makes me both so happy and scared I could fucking scream…that was why Orlo fucking scared me, and Peter, that wonderful, bastard. I love him, but if he lays a hand on you, I swear to god…”
“Grigor…you need to sleep. You’re drunk. Only time will wear it off.”
Besides, it was better to not get your hopes up.
‘I can’t believe I’m fucking falling in fucking love all over again…never thought after George that I would….never would let myself…thought ”
“But Grigor…you….”
“I’d like to see you…see you happy. See your smiling face before I sleep.”
You gave him a small smile and his eyes fluttered shut.
“Grigor…do you…do you love me….do you really love me…”
You gave him a small smile. He then rolled on his belly, spread like a starfish. He was snoring deeply in minutes.
“Because I think I’m falling in love with you too…” you wanted to say.
taglist: @retropetalss @queenlover05 @joesleee @grigorlee@itsametaphorgwil @always-a-fairycat @foxinaforestofstars @simonedk @i-wished-upon-a-star-one-night @queenlover05 @xviiarez @kiainspace @gwilymleeisbae @writeroutoftime @staradorned @iwritefanficnotprophecies @panagiasikelia @marshmxllowfluf @rhapsodyrecs @sebastiistan @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @gwiilymslee @isitstraightvodka @cherry--coke
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What Does Family Mean to You?
Authors Note: I wrote this a while ago and posted it on AO3 but i wasn’t really on tumblr at that point so i wanted to post it here while i try to write some other stuff
Work:
October 1990
“You know you won’t get anywhere right? No ones going to bail you out this time,” Reggie hears his dad call after his brother and he knows it’s bad this time because Richie doesn’t grace that with a response.
Reggie expects to hear the door slam but instead he can hear someone coming up the steps so he scrambles to climb into the back of his closet, in the compartment he knew his father never bothered to check.
“Reg?” Richie’s voice calls out in the room and Reggie knows that means its safe for him to come out because Richie would never call for him if he was with their father. So, Reggie scrambles out of the closet in a less than graceful tumble of limbs that Richie always promised he would grow into. “Hey buddy,” Richie says once Reggie is on his feet.
Reggie knows what’s happening and he briefly wonders if he crawled back into the closet if that would stop Richie. “You’re leaving, aren’t you?”
“I have too,” Richie says and Reggie knows that was true, knew this was coming, Richie is 19 and has managed to stay for as long as he could to protect Reggie but he can’t stay forever and it’s selfish of Reggie to want to keep him here.
“Please don’t,” Escapes Reggie’s mouth in a whimper before he can stop it.
Richie kneels in front of him and Reggie hates that he does that Reggie’s 12 now he doesn’t need to be a babied. “Reg,” Richie says, softly.
“Take me with you,” Reggie tries instead.
“I can’t do that,” Richie says and Reggie’s body slumps, “Mom and dad would never let me and I can’t support us both right now but I’m going to start saving and get somewhere stable and I promise the minute I can I’m coming back for you okay?”
“Okay,” Reggie says, quietly.
“It’s going to be okay buddy,” Richie says pulling Reggie into his chest. “We’re going to get out one day and we’ll never have to talk to them ever again.”
Reggie doesn’t respond just sobs silently into his brother’s shoulder. Reggie doesn’t know how long they sit on the floor like that but eventually Richie gets up and packs what little he can carry and heads out the door with one last, “I love you,” thrown over his shoulder to Reggie as he leaves. Reggie doesn’t know this as he sits on the floor but that’s the last time, he’ll see his brother alive.
May 1984
Their parents are loud again and it’s so overwhelming and Reggie can’t find Richie and Richie always makes everything better he just wants his brother. He tries to stifle the loud sob that escapes his mouth but he knows he doesn’t do it well and if his dad wasn’t yelling over it, he would have come up there and gave Reggie something to cry about. Reggie is crumpled on the floor of his and Richie’s room wishing he knew where his brother was when the door to his closet bursts open and Reggie jumps almost out of his skin.
“Hey Reg!” Richie says, crawling out, “Guess what I found.”
“What?” Reggie asks, sitting up and frantically wiping his face.
“Come on,” Richie waves and then crawls back into the closet. Reggie tentively follows him into the cluttered closet.
“Richie where are we going?” Reggie asks as he scrambles over the piles of clothes on the floor of their closet.
“Watch this,” Richie says, turning on a flashlight and handing it to Reggie as he pulls the door to the closet closed. “Here point it there,” Richie says pointing it at a point in the back of the closet. When Reggie does that Richie pushes on it and the panel pops open and slides aside.
“Woah,” Reggie says softly.
“It’s our own secret hide out,” Richie says crawling in and taking the flashlight so Reggie can follow. “See look we can put the panel back and no one will ever know we’re in here.”
“It’s quiet,” Reggie whispers.
“Yeah that’s the best part!” Richie says with a small smile Reggie is too young to decipher. “And we can make it our own, bring some blankets and stuff in here and it can be our own secret fort no one else knows about.”
“You’re the best brother I coulda ever asked for Richie,” Reggie says hugging him.
“Nah that’s you,” Richie says ruffling his hair and hugging him back.
October 1993
Reggie’s mom gets the call almost exactly 3 years after Richie leaves and his dad tells her not to tell him. They forgot he was home again, something they’ve been doing more and more since he joined the band, so they don’t know he can hear them. He goes tearing out of his house after that. He doesn’t even know where he’s going all he knows is his brothers dead and he isn’t supposed to know and everything is too loud and he didn’t get to say good bye and his parents weren’t going to tell him how could they not tell him? does this mean he cant go to the funeral?
His still spiraling when someone grabs him by the shoulders and he cries out and wrenches his whole body backwards and he falls to the pavement. “Reggie. Reggie! Calm down it’s me!” He feels like he can’t breathe and his vision is swimming he doesn’t know what to do is he dying he feels like he’s dying and if he dies does he get to see Richie?
“Reg.” There’s someone kneeling in front of him and for one traitorous moment he thinks its Richie and his body calms this was all a big mistake he misheard and Richie’s come back for him everything’s going to be okay but then his vision clears and the person swims into focus and it’s just Alex with Luke and Bobby standing over his shoulder looking frantic and scared. Reggie lets out a sob and curls in on himself.
“Reg come on what’s wrong?” Alex says softly, reaching out before hesitating remembering what happened last time, he tried to grab Reggie.
Reggie doesn’t respond just throws himself into Alex’s arms and sobs. “He’s dead.” He sobs. He knows he’s making no sense, they don’t even know about Richie, but he doesn’t think he can get anything else out because he feels like someone has tore a hole in his chest and he can’t focus on anything else.
“Who Reggie?” Bobby asks, “Who’s dead?” and that’s when Reggie realizes that Luke and Bobby have kneeled on either side of Alex who has his arms wrapped tightly around Reggie.
“My brother,” he manages to stutter out between gasped breaths.
“What…” Luke starts but Alex cuts him off.
“Let’s go inside,” he says trying to guide Reggie so he’s standing. As Reggie gets to his feet, he realizes somehow, he’s ended up at Bobby’s garage and that’s when he remembers they were supposed to be rehearsing today.
“Shit,” he says and they all turn to him. “We’re supposed to be practicing. I’m so…”
Bobby cuts him off. “Don’t you dare apologize this takes precedent okay? You come before the band. Let’s just go inside and we can deal with everything else from there okay?” he asks, putting his hands on Reggie’s shoulders. When Reggie nods and Bobby slides his arm over Reggie’s shoulder and guides him inside. When they’re all inside they arrange themselves on the couch so that they’re surrounding Reggie with Luke pulling up one of the chairs so he’s sitting in front of Reggie.
“Okay can you tell us what happened?” Luke says calmly.
So, Reggie does his best to explain through hiccupped breaths. The fighting, his brother leaving, how the fighting only got worse, how he wasn’t even allowed to talk about Richie most of the time, the fact that his parents weren’t going to tell him, the knowledge that he was never going to get to say goodbye to his brother because he wasn’t even allowed to know he died, everything came tumbling out before Reggie could stop any of it.
“Reg,” Alex says softly when he finally exhausts himself. “I’m so sorry.” He rubs his hand on his shoulder.
“Do you know when it is?” Luke asks.
“What?” Reggie asks.
“The funeral,” Luke says.
“Yeah it’s the first week of November at St Catherine’s,” Reggie says, “That’s how I know my mom was telling my dad when it was.”
“We’ll take you,” Luke says at the same time Bobby says, “Well why don’t we go?”
“What?” Reggie asks, “You don’t have…”
Luke cuts him off. “I know but we want too.” That’s when Reggie starts to realize that maybe family isn’t just his blood but it can also be the people you care about. These boys, his bandmates, are willing to drop everything to make him feel better and that’s more than either of his parents have ever done for him.
Reggie lets out a sob he didn’t know he was holding. “Thank you,” he sobs, “Thank you so much.”
They all chorus reassurances and hug him. “It’s going to be okay,“ Alex says, face buried in his shoulder.
“Yeah,” Reggie says, “One day I think it will.”
December 1987
It’s Christmas Eve and his parents can’t stop fighting long enough to have one good holiday. Richie isn’t home, he’d snuck out about an hour ago to see his current girlfriend for a little before he had to come home. Reggie’s nine and knows that he should be able to deal with the fighting by now but the sound of a plate smashing still sends him scrambling to the safe space he and his brother had created all those years ago. He doesn’t know how long he’s in there when he hears the panel slide open and see’s Richie climb in.
“Hey Reg,” He says, sliding the panel closed again.
“Hey Rich,” Reggie replies quietly, “It was just loud couldn’t focus on uh…” he frantically looks around for something that he could have been working on finding only a book that he knows is Richie’s.
“It’s okay if you’re scared Reggie,” Rich says, face soft, “You’re just a kid you shouldn’t have to deal with them fighting all on your own, I’m sorry I left I just needed to get something I thought maybe they would be better because it was Christmas.”
“Its fine,” Reggie snaps, “I’m not a kid. I wasn’t scared.” He crosses his arms.
“Okay well sometimes mom and dad yelling scares me so if it scares you its okay.” Reggie doesn’t answer just turns away. Richie smirks. “So, I guess you don’t want your present then?”
“Present?” Reggie says, turning back to him.
“Oh, now you’re interested?” Richie says, laughing and socking his shoulder.
“Maybe a little,” Reggie leans forward, “Can I see it?”
Richie hands him a badly wrapped box. “It’s not much but I hope you like it
Reggie rips open the packaging and “it’s a necklace?” Reggie says holding it out towards Richie, it’s beaded all the way around and way too big for Reggie’s small frame with a long stone at the end.
“It’s a pendent so that even if we aren’t together, I will always be there to protect you. If mom and dad ever fight and I’m not here to protect you just touch it and remember I am always with you in here,” Richie says, pointing to his chest.
“thank you. I love it Richie. I’m never going to take it off.” He hugs his brother.
November 1993
Alex’s parents drive them all to the funeral and he has no clue how Alex got them to do it without asking too many questions but they just drop them off and tell them they’ll come back to get them when the service is over. When Reggie walks in he is overwhelmed by the number of people, the number of boys his age, there are inside.
“What…” Reggie trails off, “Maybe this is the wrong service,” he starts to back out when a brown-haired woman and with a little girl’s hand in hers comes up to him.
“Wait!” She calls, “You’re Reggie, right?”
“Yeah. I… who are you?” Reggie asks, taking another step backward before Luke puts a calming hand on his upper arm to ground him.
“You probably don’t remember me I think we only actually met once but Richie talked about you so much I feel like I know you,” She says reaching her free hand out to shake his. “I’m Charlotte I was your brother’s wife.”
“What?” Reggie takes another stagger step back and this time it’s Alex who stabilizes him. “My brother wasn’t… he didn’t… what?”
“I know this is a lot to take in but when he left it was because I was pregnant with Riley.” She motioned to the little girl next to her who gives a shy wave. “He wanted to tell you but he couldn’t let your parents find out, he didn’t want your dad knowing, and he didn’t want you to have to worry about keeping it from them.”
“I don’t understand,” Reggie stutters.
“Your brother and I had been dating for about a month when we found out I was pregnant with Riley and he knew he couldn’t live in the house and support me and Riley. His biggest regret was leaving you there to deal with your family alone. It was something he struggled with for the last three years. He spent his life planning to get you out and moved in with us but every time he tried to go back your father stopped him from seeing you. He volunteered at so many youth programs trying to fill the hole you left, the hole he made when he left you. Your brother was an amazing man and used his short life to touch so many people and I’m so glad to officially meet the boy who inspired all that in him.” She sounds on the verge of tears but she still radiates so much love in the way she talks about his brother it physically hurts Reggie.
“I can’t do this,” Reggie says turning on his heels and bolting out of the church. He makes it to the steps before collapsing and shoving his head between his legs to try to calm his rapid breathing.
“It’s okay,” A soft voice accompanied by a hand, Alex’s his hands are always so cold, says, “Just try to breathe.”
“I think we should go,” Reggie says, lifting his head, “I don’t think I can do this. That isn’t… Richie didn’t… I don’t think I knew my brother at all.”
Luke is standing in front of him and he says, “We can leave if you want none of us will stop you, we will find something to do until Alex’s parents come back but I don’t think you should.”
“I can’t stand there and find out the person my brother was around me was a lie,” Reggie says, voice cracking.
“He wasn’t,” Bobby says, “Just because he had a wife and a kid and a lot of people who he clearly touched doesn’t mean you were any less important to him. Listen we don’t know much about your family so I’m not going to try to speak for your brother but from what you said, from what Charlotte has said, you meant the world to him and he was clearly important to you. Like Luke said if you want to leave right now, we will we don’t have to go back in there but I think it is something you will really regret if you don’t.”
Reggie puts his head back between his legs and takes a couple deep breathes and blinks the last of the tears from his eyes. He inhales and lifts his head. “Okay let’s go back in.”
Alex pulls him to standing and Luke claps him on the back and says, “I’m proud of you man.” And they walk back into the funeral as a unit.
June 1984
The first time Reggie takes off on his bike without his brother’s hands to guide him Richie jumps up and down, cheering and scoops him up and spins him. “I’m so proud of you Reg!”
July 1995
There is no one breaking point that summer that makes him leave and move into the garage he just decides one day that enough is enough and no one will come looking for him at this point so he mine as well move in with his real family. He leaves a note just saying they shouldn’t come looking for him and he’s not coming and then in one spiteful moment he knows he’ll regret later he writes ‘you were wrong Richie came back for me’. he knows they’ll know he’s lying. He hopes it makes his mom cry. He hopes it makes his dad break something important. He hopes they know he knows they’ll know he’s lying. Most of all, despite everything, he hopes they get better, hopes they mend their relationship or finally get that divorce whatever makes them happy in the end. He hopes maybe one day he can come back and they’ll apologize and they’re relationship will never be perfect but he hopes one day they can make it okay.
He dies a week later.
August 2020
“Hey Richie. I hope wherever you are you can hear me I hope you’re somewhere that isn’t here I think being a ghost is bad ass but I think it would just upset you so I hope you’re somewhere you’re happy. I really thought dying would bring me back to you but I guess I didn’t count on it happening so soon either. I just wanted you to know I got out. I got away from mom and dad. I never got the chance to go to your grave after… before… well you know. I also wanted you to know I found Charlotte and Riley when I came back. Riley looks so much like you it’s scary. From everything I’ve learned about her she’s just like you. She’s going far in life. I’m so sorry you couldn’t watch her grow up but I just want you to know I’m here now and I’ll watch over her. That kids going far and I’ll be damned if I let what happened to us happen to her. I still miss you so much. I don’t know if I’ll ever get over it but it’s getting easier. The band could never replace you but it feels good to have people around me who actually care about me like you would have. So yeah that’s really all. I just wanted you to know that you can rest easy I’m doing good and I’ve got Riley for you now so you can rest knowing you left a legacy of amazing people who are doing fine. I’d like you to meet my new family one day. I love you Rich and I miss you every day. I hope, if I ever figure out how too and decide to cross over, I can see you again but if I never can thank you for everything you did for me. I couldn’t have asked for a better big brother.”
#julie and the phantoms#japt#japt alex#luke patterson#luke julie and the phantoms#japt luke#alex julie and the phantoms#alex japt#reggie julie and the phantoms#japt reggie#reggie jatp#character death#canonical character death#oc Reggie's brother#OC richie
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Baseline Romantic
Chapter 7
Warnings: poor mental health, hospitals, cuteness overloads
Y/N woke up late on the Sunday morning, and spent a couple of minutes scrolling through twitter before groaning slightly and getting up.
Voices were coming from the kitchen, she could recognise Ben’s, but the other voice was unfamiliar.
Y/N detoured away from the kitchen to the bathroom to look at herself in the mirror. She didn’t know who was in the kitchen, but she sure as hell didn’t want to meet them looking quite as messy as she did right now.
Entering the kitchen a few minutes later, face washed and hair tied back, Y/N saw Ben with his back to her, busy with the toaster, in his joggers. At the table was a young, tall, blonde haired girl, who was wearing one of Ben’s sweaters.
‘Hi!’ Y/N said brightly as she came in.
Ben swung round, and smiled at her brightly, looking almost relieved to see her.
‘Hey, Y/N. This is Bella’ he said, gesturing at the blonde girl sat at the table.
‘Nice to meet you Bella! Is there any chance of some toast Ben? I won’t intrude for too long, I’m meeting Charlie at 2’
As Ben turned round to the toaster, you sat down at the table.
‘I’m sure I recognise you from somewhere’ Bella said. Thinking she was referring to Ben, you didn’t glance up from your phone.
‘Y/N, isn’t it? Yeah I’m sure I recognise you from somewhere’
‘Me? Sorry, I’m so used to people asking Ben that. Um, maybe, I’m on the news quite a bit - I’m a political commentator’
‘That’s it! We always have News24 on in the background at work- I must have spotted you then!’
You smile vaguely at her, with limited desire to prolong the discussion. ‘Where do you work Bella?’
‘I do PR. That’s actually how we met last night’ she giggled slightly and turned to Ben, who smiles vaguely at her, before quickly turning away. ‘I did the PR for the event we were both at’
‘Oh nice’ Y/N said vaguely.
‘I’m just going to hop into the shower, will you be ok Bella? Help yourself to any food while I’m gone’ Ben said, already out the door.
Bella smiled at him as he leaves, resembling a hungry chiwawa.
‘So, I can imagine Ben brings loads of girls back here’ Bella said turning back to Y/N. Feeling slightly annoyed to be being talked to again (did this girl not understand mornings?) Y/N said ‘only about as many as I bring back myself’. She winked at Bella, who looked taken aback.
You mock checking the time. ‘Oh shit, I need to dash. Really lovely to meet you Bella’
‘Yeah, you too! Hopefully I’ll see you again’ Bella called after you.
You smiled to yourself as you went back to your bedroom. You knew the likelihood of that was next to nothing.
—————-
After making sure that Bella had left, you drifted into the living room and sunk into a sofa. Ben sulked in after you, towel slung around his waist and droplets of water falling down his chest.
After lockdown had ended, it had been agreed that Ben would move in permanently with you and Catherine. You were more than happy with that. You loved having Ben around, loved the domestic fluffiness of it all. Only, with Ben moving in had also come the trickle of women who fell out of his bedroom.
‘A blonde named Bella who works in PR. Really Ben? You’re becoming some sort of seedy playboy- are you sure you’re not batman by night?’
Ben laughed, but looked slightly embarrassed.
‘I hope we didn’t keep you awake last night. Bella was really loud’ he says.
You snort. ‘No don’t worry, I was out like a light; fucking shattered. My new pills are knocking me out like clockwork. Anyway, just loud makes a welcome change to that squeaky one a few weeks back’
Ben laughs. ‘Christ, what was her name?’
You shrug at him. ‘If you can’t remember I’m certainly not going to. She could definitely remember yours though’. She imitated Ben’s squeaky one night stand ‘ooooh Ben, yeah just there- eeeek!’
Ben chucked a cushion at her. ‘Shut up, you’re triggering too many memories’ he laughs.
‘All I’m saying is I think you need a better vetting process’ Y/N said as she left the room, pausing to ruffle Ben’s hair as she left.
Y/N sat back on her bed. Absentmindedly her hand crept towards her panties, and slid beneath her waistband. It wasn’t a coincidence that the first thing that came to mind was Ben’s glistening post shower abs. She imagined that instead of going back to her room, she had instead gone over to him, and stared him straight in the eye as she pulled his towel away from him. Sinking down on her knees she had engulfed his dick with her mouth, and looking up, had seen him staring down at her, eyelids fluttering. She was still picturing his face as she came, quickly, brutally, writhing in her bed, his name on her lips.
This wasn’t the first time she’d got off to Ben whilst they’d lived together. In many ways it was quite useful having such a cache of material wondering around the house she could select from. She’d got quite good at telling herself she was just physically attracted to Ben. She loved Ben as a friend and a small part of her wanted to spend the night with him again. That wasn’t so unusual. Friends slept together all the time. Maybe if she could sleep with him again she could stop thinking about him. You laughed at yourself the first time it occurred to you. It was ridiculous and stupid and so unlikely to help. And it wasn’t as if she would ever act on it. He clearly wasn’t interested.
—————
That evening, it was just you and Ben in the house, Catherine was away staying at a yoga retreat in the Peak District. You’d been feeling increasingly unwell as the night progressed, and at 9:30 had muttered your excuses and headed to bed. As you were stood brushing your teeth, you suddenly felt incredibly light headed and before you had had the chance to sit down or steady yourself, you had fallen to the floor.
You came to a minute or so later, Ben peering over you looking concerned. As you opened your eyes his face flooded with relief. As you raised your head off the ground you realised he had placed you in the recovery position.
‘What happened?’ You asked, groggily, putting your face in your hands.
‘I’m not too sure. I just heard this crash from the bathroom, and shouted to see if you were ok. When you didn’t reply I came to check on you, and found you on the floor. You can’t have been out for very long- have you hurt yourself at all?’ He asked.
‘I don’t think so. I feel awful though, like I’m going to faint again’
‘Ok, I’m going to help you get into the living room,’ Ben said.
He gently lifted you to your feet, and as you steadied yourself, wiped a strand of hair out of your eyes. He cupped your face with his hands and your eyes met, yours glassy from your faint and his wide, full of concern.
Established on the sofa, you felt much better. Ben insisted however, on calling 101, much to your derision.
‘I’m calling them whether you like it or not, Y/N. Whether you speak to them or not is your choice, but I want to make sure you’re ok’
————
‘This is all such an overreaction’ you complained as Ben bundled you in his sweatshirt and helped you on with your jacket. ‘I fainted! It happens to people all the time. I don’t need to go to the hospital’
‘You heard what the woman said. She was worried it was a reaction to your medication. Come on, our Uber is here’ Ben said, offering you his hand to lead you out the door.
You held onto his hand the entire short journey to the hospital. You couldn’t quite place why, but it was comforting, warm, and he didn’t seem to resist. Once inside, checked in and sat on cold, hard backed plastic chairs, Ben had made sure you were settled before heading off to find a vending machine. He returned a few minutes later with a Diet Coke for himself and a bottle of water for you.
‘I thought caffeine was probably a bad idea until you’ve seen the doctor’ he said, registering your displeasure as you looked at the water bottle he had handed you.
You rested your head on his shoulder, and must have dozed off because the next thing you knew he was nudging you awake.
‘Come on, Y/N, they’ve just called us’ he whispered gently, helping you to your feet.
In the consultants office, you both sat down, and you handed your coat to Ben.
‘Y/N Y/L/N, right? And this must be your partner-‘
‘Flatmate’ both you and Ben said in unison
‘Sorry, flatmate. What’s been the matter today Y/N?’
You briefly explained the evenings events, looking to Ben occasionally for him to fill in any blanks you couldn’t remember.
‘The 101 lady thought it might be a reaction to some of the medication I’m on. I’ve just upped my dose of Zoloft, and she wondered if that could be it’
‘Do you mind me asking what you’re on that for?’ The doctor asked.
‘You name it, I’ve got it!’ You said brightly. ‘I’m on the Zoloft for my PTSD and depression, and until recently I was on beta blockers for my anxiety, but they were interacting with my asthma medication too much so my doctor took me off them and upped my Zoloft dose’
‘So you’re now on 150 a day?’ The doctor said, flicking through his notes.
You nodded.
‘I reckon that’s what it is, if I’m honest’ he said, turning to you. ‘That’s a big dose, and while it’s clearly what you need, it’s likely to have a few side effects with it. Fainting, or feeling light headed is quite common. If it doesn’t subside in a couple of days, I’d go back to your doctor, but for the meantime I wouldn’t worry too much about it.
You and Ben were silent in the Uber home. You were exhausted from the nights events, and still not feeling very well. Ben was staring out of the window, seemingly lost in thought.
‘Are you ok?’ You finally asked, as you took your coat off, glad to be home at last. ‘You’ve been quiet for the past 5 minutes which is completely out of character’.
‘Yeah I’m fine. Just glad you’re ok, it was quite a shock coming in and finding you like that... I didn’t realise just how bad your mental health was either. I know we’ve talked about it in the past, but you’ve always been quite blasé about it’
‘Yeah. I guess I don’t feel like there’s much to talk about. I just try and get on with it. No point burdening your friends with it unless you need to’ you said.
‘It wouldn’t be a burden though, not at all. I don’t want you to feel you can’t talk to me about things. I mean, I tell you all sorts of random shit, it’s definitely my turn to listen to you’
You yawn widely.
‘You must be fucking knackered’ Ben said. ‘Get into bed and I’ll bring you some tea’.
As you headed to bed he shouted after you ‘Do you want a hot water bottle too? It’s really cold tonight!’
You smiled slightly to yourself at his fussiness before you responded.
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Sugar with a Side of Coffee- Ch. 13: Purple Hyacinths and White Orchids
Chapter 13: Purple Hyacinths and White Orchids
A/N: I’m sorry in advance
Masterlist
Cate awoke the next day with a headache from drinking so much wine. Her alarm was chiming through her phone and it felt like the sound bounced between her ears. Pressing her palm into her forehead to create a pressure that wasn’t her headache, she let out a large sigh as she sat up in bed. It was her mistake to keep drinking with Spencer’s friends when she knew she had to work the next day. Even though she was paying for it today, she had a really fun night at Rossi’s.
Spencer had driven Cate back to her house last night. Instead of the usual comfortable silence, Cate was blabbering the whole ride in Spencer’s car. Not only was she the chattiest Spencer had ever seen, she was also the touchiest. Not always touching him, but fiddling with the radio, opening all the compartments to see what was inside. A wine-drunk Cate was brazen and not nearly as quiet as she normally was.
“Want to know my favorite flower?” Cate said out loud to Spencer, while rummaging through the pockets of his suit jacket that she was still wearing. Spencer glanced over to her.
“Of course.” He smiled at her. Every few seconds, a street light would shine an orange glow in the car, and Spencer swore this was the most beautiful he had ever seen her.
“It’s Asters. I like all colors but pink would be my favorite I think.” Cate started to take off her shoes in his car. She was struggling with the small buckle on the heel. “Now it’s my turn to ask you a question.” She sat back up, defeated by the small metal buckle. There was a silence as she thought of what to ask him. “What’s your middle name?” She decided. He had just pulled into her parking lot.
“Walter.” He quickly said, before getting out and walking around to open her door.
“Spencer Walter Reid.” Cate tried his full name out. She took Spencer’s outstretched hand and stepped out of his vehicle. She eyed him up, repeating his full name again. “Yeah, that seems about right.” She interlaced their fingers.
Spencer thought that the elevator would be their best option to get Cate safely to her floor. She dug in her clutch for her keys and passed them to Spencer to put into the lock. The two walked into Cate’s apartment just as Shrimp was walking past the hallway with one of the little toys Spencer had gotten him. Cate sat on the bench in her foyer and extended a leg to Spencer.
“Please help.” Cate stuck her bottom lip out. Spencer grabbed her ankle and his nimble fingers just barely struggled with the buckle. He laughed and motioned for her other foot so he could take the other heel off. When Cate stood up, Spencer admired the height difference between them. He could tell Cate was getting tired by the way her bubbling conversation faded. She slid his jacket off, holding it out to him. In the soft light of the hallway, Spencer could see her freckles that peppered the top of her shoulders.
That night was the first time that Spencer had seen her room. It suited her. He pulled back her black and white comforter. Cate laid down, still in her dress, getting settled in. Spencer kissed her forehead and gently took the bobby pins from her hair. He rested another yellow throw blanket over her body. On his way out, he gave Shrimp a scritch and quietly shut the door behind him.
“I feel like we haven’t worked together in forever!” Marta said loudly. Cate walked into The Empty Mug with her sunglasses on. She scrunched her face.
“Why must you be so loud?” Cate closed her eyes, pausing in her step. Marta chuckled.
“Hungover on a weekday? You’re becoming quite the rebel, Catherine.” Marta was putting the last of the chairs down. “It’s getting colder, my parents were thinking of retiring the cart for the season.” Marta informed Cate.
“Aw, I’m gonna miss my cart!” Cate was walking to the back room to put away her things and put on her apron. Like clockwork, soon after Marta flipped the sign on the door from closed to open, Spencer walked in.
“Hey, Sweater Vest, when are we gonna get a visit from Morgan for a change?” Marta joked with him, starting a pot of coffee. Cate came out of the back, her face lighting up when she saw Spencer.
“How are you feeling?” Spencer laughed. He had moved so he was standing in front of her. Cate brought a hand to her temple.
“Oh, you know, dealing with the aftermath of your friends. Remind me not to try and keep up with them again.” Cate laughed. Spencer shifted his weight from heel to toe.
“Would you like to go to the new Italian restaurant on Jefferson street later tonight? Like a proper date?” Spencer looked hopeful. Cate’s smile grew.
“I’d love to.” Cate nodded. She was mentally picking out an outfit already. The end of her shift could not come fast enough. As soon as Spencer mentioned Italian, Cate was thinking of an alfredo dish with bread sticks. Cate felt like she was back in high school, giddy like a schoolgirl for the first real date she’s had in awhile. She supposed she could count the museum date as a date, but she categorized it as friends, since that was all they were at the time. This time, though, their feelings were aired out and on the table and they were exclusive. That’s what made it a real date.
Cate just about ran home, her scarf blowing behind her as she rushed to her apartment. She showered and washed her hair to fix her hat hair. She shaved her legs, even though she planned on wearing tights. After her shower, she walked to her room in a towel, laying out her outfit she had curated all day. A dark green sparkly dress that had long sleeves. It fell above her knee, so she had black tights to cover legs and a black pair of ankle boots with a small heel. She curled her hair for the first time, managing to only burn her fingers twice. She facetimed Marta to show her the outfit and swoon over this date. Seeing the time, she wondered why Spencer hadn’t been to pick her up yet.
She remembered that they hadn’t decided on how they were meeting. Cate figured she’d shoot him a text and let him know she would meet him at the restaurant. Cate’s nose was red and a bit runny from the walk to the restaurant. The restaurant was all lit up with soft yellow lights and it was everything Cate imagined a real date would be.
Cate gave the hostess both her and Spencer’s names. He had made a reservation under his name in advance, despite the full house and the hostess informed Cate she was the first of their party of two to show up. The hostess led the way to a table for two, in a more secluded part of the restaurant that was more dimly lit and the tables in this area all had candles on their white table cloths.
It had been about fifteen minutes before Cate let some negative thoughts cross her mind. She tried calling Spencer, but his phone went straight to voicemail. Cate was on the second basket of breadsticks, pleading with the waiter for a few more minutes. After ten more minutes, Cate had decided to order her meal, not wanting the reservation to go to waste.
She could barely eat. Half of it was boxed up for Cate to eat for lunch the next day. The waiter had come back, telling her there was already a card on file to pay for the meal. Out of pure pettiness, Cate did something she never usually did. She ordered dessert for herself. A chocolate lava cake was brought to the table. The servers were now sneaking peeks at Cate sitting by herself. She pretended not to notice and picked at her chocolate cake that only tasted like spite. Cate finally gave them her own card to pay and left the restaurant with her leftover box.
She hauled a cab to go home, since it was now dark and freezing out. While she was in the backseat, her phone rang. Spencer’s name flashed on the screen. She wanted to answer and give him hell, but she left it for voicemail. She chuckled bitterly to herself thinking of Derek already chewing him out- wherever they were. It’s not like he would tell her what state they were in or where they were headed. Her phone finally stopped ringing, and a new voice message notification showed.
“I am so sorry. I know I promised you a date tonight. What I did was inexcusable. I’m on the jet and I’m an hour and a half out. Can we talk?” Spencer’s voice was rushed with embarrassment. Or was it guilt? After she texted Spencer to meet her at her place the taxi pulled up to her building’s entrance. Cate paid and got out of the car.
She left her box on the counter. She wanted to stay in her outfit so Spencer could see what he missed, but she didn’t want to be too mean. A part of her felt bad for being mean. She knew he had a demanding job and she was lucky to have spent so much of Spencer’s free time with him so far. She knew he was out there, getting the bad guys and making the world a safer place. With a sigh, she changed into sweats and a t-shirt and plopped on the couch with some reality show to fill the silence.
A knock on her door made Cate jump from a sleep. She hadn’t even realized she had closed her eyes. She could hear Spencer frantically knock again. His voice coming from the other side of the door.
“Cate? If you can hear me, please let me in.” Cate looked through the peephole. He was still in his FBI windbreaker. Still feeling mad at him, she opened the door just enough so he could see one eye. “Oh, thank god. I really am an asshole. I’m so sorry.” He started to say.
“Just tell me you got the guy.” Cate’s face was still hard with anger. She sighed. “Tell me you solved the case and it was good for you guys.” Cate blinked.
“Yeah. Yeah we did. It was tough, but we did it. That’s why I was late.” Spencer’s shoulders slugged.
“You weren’t late. Late implies that you would’ve showed up at all. You didn’t. I sat there by myself for an hour.” Cate spat. She took a deep breath in, fingers tapping the door while she made a decision. Opening the door wider, she let Spencer in. He followed her to her kitchen, where she took out a plate to reheat the leftover meal she had. “You must be hungry.” Cate said. Knowing that there was one less killer loose made Cate feel less angry at Spencer. She took out two forks and the two picked at the alfredo pasta together in silence. As they ate, Cate moved closer to Spencer, slowly pressing into his side. She was glad he was safe and home.
Spencer stayed the night, the two snuggled up in Cate’s bed. Cate’s head rested on Spencer’s chest, his arms wrapped around her. In the morning, he had to get up before her and he gave her a quick kiss before leaving to go back to the bureau for another day.
On another occasion a few weeks later, Spencer had promised Cate to another date at a different restaurant. Like before, Cate had gotten dressed and ready- waiting for Spencer to pick her up as promised. She facetimed Marta as she waited for Spencer to arrive. They discussed some new baked goods to try at the shop for the winter. She hung up the call when her doorbell rang.
She excitedly opened it, but it wasn’t Spencer on the other side. It was Penelope. She looked guilty, and when she saw Cate, she looked at her with pity.
“I am so sorry to be the bearer of bad news.” Penelope said. In her hands, were a bouquet of Cate’s favorite flowers: pink Asters. Cate sighed. “I can’t stay for long, I have to get back to my batcave, but I also brought you this.” Penelope handed a pint of chocolate ice cream to Cate. Cate smiled sadly at Penelope and thanked her for stopping by.
Spencer’s poor attempt at trying to mend his mistakes was to invite Cate over for more sleepovers and movie nights. He had even given Cate a key to his place. In the cases where he knew he was staying overnight, Cate would let herself in and water his plants for him. Sometimes she would wrap herself in his housecoat. She loved Spending time with Spencer and she was grateful to have met a wonderful male specimen, but she was growing tired of the kisses in passing and waking up alone in a bed where they had slept together. Cate bitterly thought of how she used to be happily single and how she became a wreck of a woman in love.
It happened one day when she came home from The Empty Mug. Spencer had beaten her to her apartment door. She smiled, excited to see him at a reasonable hour for the first time in a while. In his hands, he held a bouquet made of purple and white flowers.
“What’s the occasion?” Cate questioned with a small laugh. “Not that I’m not happy to see you.” She smiled at him, opening the door for the two of them. Spencer brought the flowers to the island. Cate could tell he was nervous. “What’s up?” now she was growing anxious.
“I know these aren���t your favorite flowers. They’re purple hyacinths and white orchids. They both mean sorry. Well, the orchids mean I’m sorry and the hyacinths are more of a please forgive me.” Spencer spoke with his hands, playing with his fingers.
“Forgive you for what, Spencer?” Cate placed her hands on the countertop of the island. “What are you talking about?” Cate shook her head.
“You deserve more than this. I feel awful when I have to leave for a case. You don’t deserve being stood up or waking up alone. And as bad as I want to be what you deserve and what you need, I can’t quit doing what I love. I wish I could but I can’t.” He stammered out. Cate grew angry at him, the floodgates had opened and everything she felt was coming out.
“You don’t get to tell me what I need! You don’t get to decide how I feel!” Cate started. She had come to terms with how their relationship was and how important Spencer’s job was. He was keeping people safe and Cate knew what she signed up for.
“Stop being so understanding, you’re making this harder than it has to be.” Spencer closed his eyes, pressing his thumb and index finger into them.
“Fine. I won’t say that it kills me not knowing where you go. Or if you're safe. I won’t say that it’s been easy, but I've been here, spencer. and I was planning on being here!” Cate yelled. Her throat burned. She didn’t want it to end like this. Tears stung her eyes. She couldn’t figure out why Spencer wanted to end this so bad.
After a silent standoff between Cate and Spencer, he curtly nodded and turned out the door. Cate let herself sit on her kitchen floor and Shrimp finally came out now that the screaming match had subsided.
Spencer was off his game at work. The team had spoken amongst each other and had come to the conclusion that Spencer and Cate were no more. That was a lie, Derek had visited the shop to get the details from Marta. Even though things were tense between Spencer and Cate, Derek wasn’t the only one visiting the shop.
“How long are you gonna let him just sit out there?” Marta asked, peering out the window to Spencer, sitting on the bench across the street from the coffee shop. He had been spending all his free time on this bench that faced the coffee shop. He hated how cold he got on the bench. Winter was in full swing now. He hated even more how things ended between himself and Cate. He tried reaching out to her, but Cate wouldn’t answer her phone or her door when he knocked. He knew he royally messed up.
“Until he freezes” Cate replied, not looking up from prepping a coffee order. She tried her best to ignore him. Talking to him or even seeing him would break her. She knew she would let him back in and she would just suffer again.
“Just because it’s cold outside doesn’t mean you have to be cold hearted” Marta told Cate. Marta felt bad for the two of them. And not just because all the scheming her and Derek had gone through to get them together had failed, but because they were good for each other. Marta made Spencer his usual coffee order and walked across the street to the bench.
“She hates me doesn’t she?” Spencer asks. Marta sighed.
“I mean, I wouldn’t say hate but maybe strongly dislike” Marta said, trying to lighten the mood.
#sugar with a side of coffee fanfic#spencer reid#spencer reid x oc#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid angst#criminal minds#criminal minds fanfiction
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PROMPT:
Bruce Wayne & Jason Todd, Jason Todd & Catherine Todd
Warning: implied/referenced child abuse.
Jason Todd makes no attempt to eat his burger or even take a sip from his soda, despite the loud rumbling of his stomach. He clutches the bag tightly, bringing it closer to his chest when he sees Bruce staring, like he's afraid Bruce would take offense and demand his food back.
Bruce Wayne does not understand him. His threadbare clothes do nothing to hide the skin stretched over bones. He can see the outline of the boy's ribs through his red hoodie. He is clearly very hungry and going by the way he can't seem to take his eyes off the bag of fast food or even how he keeps taking lungs full of the aroma wafting from it, like if he breathes deep enough, he will be filled. He would bet his entire fortune that this kid has not had a good meal in weeks, or even months. Even one as unhealthy as greasy fast food.
The child is clearly starving. Yet, he has not made any attempt to help himself.
Bruce does not have any experience with poverty or homelessness. Even at the lowest point of his life, he had access to basic human needs. Still, he knows enough about human behavior to know that Jason's behavior right now is not the norm. When he gives a clearly starving person food, they usually devour it immediately.
There are only a few reasons why he would not want to eat the food he had enthusiastically accepted from Bruce. Either he plans to use the food as payment for his safety, in which case, Bruce needs to start looking into gangs exploiting kids, or he has someone, most likely a younger sibling in his care. Considering the fact that Bruce had caught him trying to jack off the fourth tire of the batmobile, after successfully getting away with the other three, Bruce is not sure what is most likely to be the case.
"You going to turn me in now?" Jason asks him, once Bruce's burger is out of sight.
"I promised you I wouldn't," Bruce tells him as earnestly as he can manage.
It doesn't convince the child at all.
"Yeah, right," he scoffs. "That's what you all say."
"Don't you think it would be counter-productive to have you arrested for trying to survive? I'm trying to make Gotham safe for kids like you, Jason. Not put you in jail. I might take you somewhere safe, so you don't have to keep living on the streets, but--"
"I'm not on the streets," Jason cuts in defensively. The fear and worry in his expression is clear now. "I live with my mom and we're fine. If you're not going to arrest me, then I'll be on my way."
A mom. Bruce can't decide if it's a euphemism for Boss. He has seen some awful things since becoming Batman. He also knows some parents take advantage of their kids and force them into crimes as a way to 'earn their keep'.
Jason is most likely taking the food to this person, if he's not eating it, and Batman needs to separate them if the child is being exploited.
The child doesn't wait for Bruce's response before he starts his trek back to the Narrows.
Making a snap decision, Bruce calls out to him.
"Common, I'll drop you off wherever you want," he says, knowing Jason would never let Batman drop him off at home. The child is too suspicious, and rightfully so.
Jason stops in his tracks, but he makes no attempt to accept Bruce's offer.
"It will be morning before you make it all the way across town," Bruce points out. "That's <i>if</i> you don't get attacked for the food."
With that, Jason agrees to let Bruce give him a ride.
Even though he was quiet for the first couple of minutes, Bruce could see the wheels turning in the boy's head. Jason has a very expressive face that tells Bruce he is gearing up to say something, as he takes in the interior of the batmobile.
Jason doesn't take as long as Bruce thought he would.
"You're probably rich, huh?" Jason observes.
Oh God, Bruce hopes this kid is not about to proposition him.
"Not really." Bruce's answer is terse to discourage further probing.
"So it's true what they say?" Jason continues, either missing Bruce's reluctance to continue with this conversation or ignoring it. "That you're fucking Bruce Wayne for money?"
If Batman didn't have such a tight rein on his microexpressions, he would have choked. "That's not language suitable for a child."
Jason turns in his seat so that Bruce doesn't miss the elaborate eye-roll.
"I guess you've had to pay informants, huh?" Jason asks. "You know, like in the stories, where a dude is rewarded for giving the cops valuable information for solving a crime. You do that?"
"Sometimes." Bruce is invested in where Jason is going with his questioning. "Why? Do you have information to sell?"
"Depends on your going rate," the boy sasses.
"And how much do you want?" Bruce asks.
"I read in the papers that the FBI pay up to a hundred grand," Jason shrugs. "Shouldn't be too much for you to match, seeing as you have a rich boyfriend."
"One hundred thousand dollars?" The only reason Bruce doesn't laugh is because he doesn't want Jason to think he's being made fun of.
That, and the possibility that Jason may be trying to get free from his abuser, by having Batman go after them.
"You really think your information is worth that much?" Bruce asks.
"You tell me, Batman." Jason shrugs again. "It was worth enough to cause a war between Penguin and Scarecrow. Enough to make my dad disappear, not that that's a bad thing."
Bruce doesn't think he's supposed to hear the last part, as Jason mutters it under his breath. But the cowl picks up the words clearly.
A criminal and/or abusive mother and mob affiliated but now absentee father. Bruce is debating calling Social Services.
He's also aware of the war between Penguin and Scarecrow. A few months ago, there were rumors of a collaboration between the two factions to take over Gotham, before accusations of betrayal.
If it wasn't for the lives being lost, Bruce would be grateful for their misunderstanding.
Still, a hundred thousand dollars is a lot of money for someone like Jason, and is most likely to draw the wrong attention.
"I'll give you five thousand," Bruce tells him.
"Out of a hundred? Are you really that cheap?" Jason snorts. "You roll around in a ride like this and can't even pay for information? Okay, I'll do you a favor and take seventy."
"Ten," Bruce counters.
"All you rich assholes like taking advantage of poor people," Jason grumbles angrily. When Bruce doesn't budge, he relents. "Fifty."
"Fifteen."
"Fifty," Jason repeats firmly.
"Alright, twenty five thousand dollars and that's my final offer."
"Deal!" Jason agrees immediately.
Bruce watches him spit on his palm before extending it to Bruce for a handshake.
"Come on," he urges when Bruce makes no attempt to shake his hand. "We gotta shake on it to seal the deal."
In the face of that logical argument, Bruce spits in his own hand before clasping it to Jason's in a handshake.
If Jason believes he has information that can help, then twenty five thousand dollars is not too much to pay someone who clearly needs it. The cash in the batmobile isn't up to the amount, but it should be enough to buy the time he would need to get the rest from the manor.
"Alright." He follows Jason's directions on where to park. "What's this information?"
"Wait here," Jason instructs him, undoing the seat belt. "I'll bring it to you."
Bruce gives Jason a minute head-start before he takes to the rooftops, to trail the young boy.
After a few twists and turns, he comes to a stop in front of a dilapidated building. A woman rushes out and pulls Jason into a hug.
"I've been looking all over for you!" she scolds. "Where were you? Chris said some man took you. Is that true?"
She is rail thin, her threadbare clothes hanging off her body, but she sounds genuinely distressed as she checks him for injuries.
"I'm fine, Mom," Jason says in comfort before shoving the food at her. "Look, I got us food and I found a way to get away from the men looking for dad."
The woman -- Jason's mom -- shoves the food back at him, before pulling him into an apartment with the door barely hanging on a hinge.
It's hard not to notice the woman's limp, or the way Jason supports some of her weight as they go.
Bruce takes a second to process everything.
Judging by the environment and what he's seen and heard, Jason isn't being abused, but he's in even more danger.
Whether he plans to pay off his father's debt with the money or not, Bruce knows he has to get mother and son away from this place before they end up as victims of mob violence. Whether Jason really does have information to sell or not.
With that, Bruce hops down to the street from his perch on the roof.
Despite how mindful he is of the door, the moment his fist to connects with the door, it falls off the hinge holding it in place, exposing Jason and his mother having either a very late dinner or a very early breakfast in their one bedroom apartment.
They both jump at the sight of him, and once realization dawns on them, their reactions are wildly different.
Jason's mom cowers with fear, shrinking into herself while attempting to wrap herself around her son, but Jason won't have it. He is livid.
"What the fuck, Batman!" the child hisses angrily. "I told you to wait for me."
"Jason, stop," his mother pleads, pulling Jason behind her.
The boy is unmoved. His mother's frailness is no match for his strength.
"You broke our door! Why the fuck would you do that?"
Despite his obvious anger, they're both careful not to raise their voices. Bruce imagines that getting a visit from Batman isn't a good thing in this neighborhood.
"Calm down," Bruce growls.
Both mother and son freeze where they stand.
"We didn't do nothing wrong, Batman," the lady tells him in a trembling voice. "If you're looking for my husband, we don't know where he is."
"I'm here for Jason," Bruce tells her, registering her distress just before he turns to Jason. "You were taking too long," he lies. "I wanted to make sure you were fine."
This seems to placate the boy a bit, but not his mother, who demands to know what the hell is going on.
Bruce watches silently as Jason explains his plans to his mother.
Apparently, his plan is to sell the information his father stole from Scarecrow to Batman, in exchange for money that will get them out of Crime Alley.
His mom doesn't look thrilled, but she lets Jason climb into the ceiling to retrieve what her husband had hidden there.
"You won't arrest him when you have what you want, will you?" she asks with a fierce look.
Bruce can't help but admire that about her. Not a lot of people have that look about them when Batman is staring them down.
Must be where Jason gets his spunk.
"Jason is a good boy," she continues. "He did a bad thing, but it was for a good reason. His heart is in the right place, I swear."
"Mrs Todd--" Bruce starts, but she interrupts him.
"Catherine."
"Catherine," he repeats. "I don't plan to arrest your son," he continues as calmly as Batman's voice will let him. "We made a deal and I intend to uphold my end."
"So you're just going to hand Jason twenty-five grand?" Catherine asks suspiciously. "Just like that?"
"Yes," he tells her simply. "But I don't have twenty-five thousand dollars in cash right now. I can give you a thousand tonight, and a safe place for the night. Seeing as I broke your door. Tomorrow, you will get the rest of the money and I will call someone to fix your door."
As he talks, he pulls out the bills from his utility belt and hands it to her.
Of course, he has no plans of letting them return here. But if he has learned anything from being Batman, it's that, sometimes, all some people have left is their pride.
Poor people hate being treated as charity.
Siccing Alfred on her would be more productive. All he has to do is make sure they meet. Dick would probably appreciate having someone young in the manor, too.
"And you swear Jason will be safe?" Catherine stresses, eyes flickering between the money and Bruce's face.
"I swear," he vows solemnly. That much, he can promise.
A few minutes later, Jason returns from the ceiling, an envelope clutched in his hand.
"Jason," Catherine calls softly, pulling him into her arms before he can give Bruce the envelope. "Baby, there's something I have to tell you about…"
#cara writes#ojtserversunday#Jason Todd#bruce wayne#catherine todd#Jason Todd & Bruce Wayne#Jason Todd & Catherine Todd#Catherine is a trying mom#She loves her son#Catherine Todd lives
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zero
part one of the #1 Fan series
also posted on AO3
huge shoutout to my friend Ash who let me use their OC
“Hey there!” Jane said with a wave. “What’s your name?” The bright-haired teen stepped backwards, their place quickly filled by the screaming horde that was the Queendom. In a spur-of-the-moment decision, Jane decided to follow the shy fan.
Bad choice, Jane.
The fans swarmed around her, making it nearly impossible to move. Somehow, she managed to stagger through the throng and catch up with the teen.
“Hi,” Jane panted, completely out of breath. “Sorry about that, I didn’t mean to scare you. What’s your name?”
“I’m Zero, I’m... I’m a really big fan, Ms. Seymour.”
“I’ve noticed. You’re here about once a month, right?”
Zero laughed nervously. “Yeah. I didn’t know... I didn’t think you noticed things like that.”
“I do. We notice a lot more than people think we do.” Jane noticed Zero looking around anxiously, so she decided it was time for her to head back to the theater. “Hey, listen,” she said, “I’ve gotta head back inside, I think the others are looking for me. I’m on pretty much all the social media, though, so feel free to shoot me a message anytime!” She turned around and left with a wave, and to her surprise, Zero ran up behind her.
“Hey, uh, do you... do you think I could meet the other queens?” they asked. “I’m just... I-I’m such a big fan, it’s my dream to talk to all of you in person.”
Jane smiled. “Of course! You’ve been here one night a month since we opened. I think it’s time you finally met us.” Jane led Zero inside through the stage door and back to the dressing rooms. The two stopped first at the dressing room Jane shared with Cathy and Kat. Jane knocked on the door. “Everyone decent in there? We have a guest.”
Kat opened the door. She was wearing a sports bra and leggings, since she absolutely refused to put on her hoodie until she had to, and had obviously been reorganizing her makeup organizer. Cathy was still in costume, methodically taking off her makeup with a cleanser she constantly raved about, both online and to the queens.
“Heya, Janey,” Kat said. “We were worried you’d gotten a girlfriend that none of us knew about.”
Cathy nearly spat out the water she’d just taken a drink of. “That is untrue!” she shouted. “Don’t listen to this heretic, babes, she doesn’t know what she’s talking about.”
“You haven’t got a need to worry, honey. I’m yours as long as you want me to be.”
Kat cleared her throat. “Hate to break up the cuteness, but didn’t you say something about a guest?”
“Oh, yeah, sorry! This is Zero... I’m sorry, what pronouns do you use?”
Zero, who had been picking at their nails, jumped at the question. “What?” they asked.
“She asked what pronouns you use, darling,” Cathy helped.
“Oh, okay. I, uh, I use they/them. And you can, um, you can call me Z if you want.”
“Alright, then, this is Z, they’ve been coming to our shows about once a month, and they really wanted to meet us,” Jane explained. Z gave a small wave.
“What do you think of the decorations?” Kat asked.
Zero looked around, taking in everything. They smiled. “I really like the flags,” they said. “It’s cool that you all have your own.”
“Yeah, it’s pretty neat. Someone sent them to us for pride month, and then we bought a few of our own that we use as blankets,” Kat explained.
“That’s neat!” Zero exclaimed. They turned to Jane. “Ms. Seymour-”
“Call me Jane,” she interrupted. “You can call us all by our first names, we’re not that formal.”
“Except Lina,” Cathy added. “You wait for permission to call her anything but Queen Catherine.”
Z snickered. “Queen Catherine?”
“Yep,” Kat said. “Her Royal Snobbiness refuses to give up her title.”
“But don’t tell her we called her that,” Cathy chimed in.
“She’ll have our heads,” Kat joked.
Zero nodded. “I’ll keep that in mind.”
“Anyway, you were going to say something?” Jane prompted.
“I was gonna ask if we can go say hi to the others,” they replied.
“Of course! Are you okay going by yourself-”
“Could you come with me?” Z interrupted. “I’m just not- uh, I guess comfortable would be the word- introducing myself to people.”
“I’ll go with you!” Kat volunteered enthusiastically. “Well, if you’re okay with it, that is.”
“Yeah, that’s fine,” Zero said. “I just don’t wanna go alone.”
“Yay!” Kat cheered, jumping out of her chair. She nearly put her arm around Z’s shoulder, but stopped herself. “Is it cool if I put my arm around you?”
“Yeah, that’s fine. Thanks for asking, though.”
“Anytime, friend.” Kat draped her arm across them, and the two set off into the hallway. “Wanna bet Jane and Cath’ll be making out when we get back?”
Z flinched. They weren’t used to anyone being this open about being in a same-sex relationship. “Uhm… they might, I guess?” they ventured. “You know them better than I do.”
“Huh. I guess you’re right.” Kat shrugged. “Anyway, here we are. Go on in, I’ll be right behind you.”
Z stepped into the dressing room and was taken aback by all the bright colors and loud sounds. They couldn’t quite tell what was playing on whoever’s speaker was blaring music, but it didn’t sound like anything they’d heard before. Kat must’ve noticed the look of discomfort on Zero’s face, because she’d gone to do something with the promise of being right back. Just like that, the music’s volume lowered, and Z let out a sigh of relief. Kat pulled a chair up next to the costume rack in the middle of the room and climbed on top of it.
“Ladies!” she shouted, almost instantly quieting everyone down, save for the alternates, who were in the corner finishing up a rather vicious card game. “Ladies, this is Zero, Jane brought them in to meet everyone.” Z waved nervously.
Almost immediately, Anne was in Z’s face. Kat, of course, practically had to pry her off of them.
When Zero caught sight of Catalina, they quickly bowed and muttered, “Your Highness.”
“Oh, none of that here. Call me Lina. I don’t know what those two-” she looked warily at Kat- “told you, but you don’t need to call me Queen anything or Your Highness, anything of that sort, mijo.” Her eyes widened as the last word left her lips. “Oh my goodness, that was rather insensitive of me. It’s just… Spanish is so heavily gendered, and I’m not about to let go of my mother tongue-”
“Lina. It’s fine,” Z interrupted. “It’s actually nice that someone is willing to call me pet names, especially after what happened with my parents… let’s just say we’ve got a pretty strained relationship.”
“Oh, cariño, I’m sorry you had to deal with that,” Catalina comforted them. “I want you to know that we’re all here for you, and you can message us on social media anytime, even if it’s just something little that made you feel happy.”
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Z spent the next three hours perched on Catalina’s dressing room counter, finally excusing themself when they realized that they had an early shift the next day at Barnes & Noble.
Zero let themself into their apartment, taking off their shoes and tossing their keys into the little dish they kept by the door. They reeled for a second at the shock of taking off their platform shoes, but they quickly adjusted. They grabbed a cookie off of the countertop, a couple of those could serve as dinner. They tapped a quick hello on Ricky’s (their betta fish) bowl as they walked past on their way to the living room. Then, seating themself on the floor, they pulled out their phone and opened the photos app. There, at the beginning of their camera roll, was the selfie they’d taken that night with all the queens.
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“I really liked that Z kid. I hope we talk again soon,” Jane said.
Cathy hummed some form of a response, too intently focused on the back rub she was giving Jane. “You’re really tense tonight,” she observed. “Everything feel okay? Nothing’s sore?”
“I’m fine,” Jane replied, waving the question off.
“It’s your shoulders,” Cathy continued. “You’re taking enough time for yourself?”
“Probably not, but seriously, everything feels fine.”
Cathy stopped working the taut muscles in Jane’s shoulder. “Are you worried about anything? You’re seeming pretty off.”
“I told you, I’m fine. Can we just go to sleep?” Jane asked.
Cathy sighed. “Yeah. I guess we can.”
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“Chérie, stop overthinking this. They told you, it’s fine that you used the masculine form.”
Catalina stopped pacing long enough to give Anne a stern look. “Yes, that’s what they said, but is it what they meant?” she asked.
“Fair point,” Anne replied, “but you’re still giving it too much thought. Come to bed, we can talk it out in the morning. You’ll be able to think better after you get some rest.”
“I suppose you’re right,” Catalina said with a shrug. Anne patted her wife’s side of the bed, and Catalina climbed in without much hesitation. She gave Anne a kiss on the temple and lay down.
“Night night, mon amour,” Anne whispered.
“Buenas noches, querida,” Catalina replied. She lay there for about ten minutes, still wide awake. “Annie?” she whispered into the darkness. Anne grunted. “Oh, good, you’re still awake.”
“Awake being a loosely used term, yes,” Anne grumbled.
“I just wanted to say one more thing.”
“Then say it before I go to sleep.”
“I hope our baby grows up to be just like you.” Catalina smiled as she said this, hoping it was a good way to break the news to Anne.
Anne shot up in bed. “Our… our baby?” she managed to stutter out. “You’re pregnant?”
“Yeah. And I already talked to Lucy, I’m performing until I’m physically unable to.”
“That’s great.” Anne yawned, then laid down with her head on Catalina’s stomach. “I think I’m gonna stay like this,” she decided.
“It doesn’t hurt me, so as long as you’re comfortable I’m fine with it.”
The two fell asleep like that.
———————-
“Y’know, they mentioned our flags,” Kat said.
“Really?” Anna asked.
“Yep! And they just seemed pretty cool in general.”
Anna laughed, shaking her head. “You realize I was there, correct? I did meet them.”
“Oh, yeah! Sorry,” Kat apologized.
Anna finished putting on her pajamas and went to join Kat on the bed. “It’s alright, love. I’m glad you thought they were cool. Perhaps you can message them in the morning?”
“It might take me some looking,” Kat replied, “but I could probably find them. I might let them follow my private account as well.”
“Sounds like a plan. Bedtime now, alright?” Anna snuggled up in the covers and turned off the lamp. Kat curled up against her, earning a kiss on the head.
“Nighty-night, baby,” Kat said, already half asleep. Anna did not reply, only snored softly.
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Zero got up from the floor and stretched. They’d already been awake longer than they should’ve been. They went into their room and put on their pajamas, then went back into the kitchen and said goodnight to Ricky. They grabbed another cookie, their fourth for the night, and laid down in their bed. They turned their phone on and opened Instagram.
God only knows how long they’d be awake.
#six the musical#ocs#six the musical fanfiction#fanfiction#fanfic#jane seymour#katherine howard#catherine parr#catherine of aragon#anne boleyn#anna of cleves#anne of cleves#aralyn#araleyn#parrmour#katanna#my writing
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She
Inspired by “She” by dodie. Oh, poor oblivious Cathy. 💙 Things must get worse before they get better unfortunately. Despite that, I hope you all enjoy this part!
Word Count: 4466
Trigger Warnings: anxiety attack, self-deprecating thoughts
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3
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Part 4
A quiet knock at her door broke Cathy out of her reading. She let out a sigh and put her book down. Cathy hated it when she had to stop abruptly in the middle of a chapter.
“Who is it?” Cathy called out as she slid off her bed and walked to the door.
“It’s Anne. Dinner’s ready! Jane made chicken nuggets!” Anne’s excited voice made Cathy hesitate. Her hand stopped on the doorknob and she took a deep breath before forcing a fake smile onto her face.
Cathy slowly opened the door and was met with the sight of Anne who immediately smiled brightly at her. Cathy felt her heart flutter in her chest at the sight as her own fake smile turned into a small genuine one. Cathy’s smile dropped however when she remembered that Anne was pining after someone else.
“Okay. I’ll be right down,” Cathy responded as her gaze fell to the floor. Anne gave her a confused look before clearing her throat.
“Yeah! Okay,” Anne rambled nervously. “I’ll see you downstairs then.” Anne hesitated for a moment before making her way back down to the kitchen.
Cathy watched Anne walk away before turning back into her room with groan. Cathy didn’t mean to act weird around Anne but it was impossible to see her and not think of how desperately Cathy wanted her. And how unattainable she was.
Cathy quickly crossed the room to her bed and grabbed her book. She slipped one of her stray bookmarks into the pages and closed it before placing it on her nightstand.
“Don’t be weird, Cathy,” she whispered to herself as she left her room and walked down the stairs to the kitchen. “Please, don’t be weird.”
Cathy entered the kitchen and sat down in her seat as quietly as possible, hoping not to draw attention to herself. She picked up her fork and poked at the chicken nuggets on her plate, not really in the mood to eat but not wanting to raise suspicion if she didn’t. She slowly began eating as she listened to the other queens’ conversation.
“Hey Kitty, can you pass the mustard?” Cleves asked, gesturing to the yellow bottle by her side.
“That’s disgusting,” Kitty commented as she passed Cleves the requested item. “I hate mustard.”
“Oh really?” Cleves asked, giving Kitty a mischievous smile. Before Kitty could reply, Cleves uncapped the mustard bottle and squirted an unnecessary amount of the yellow liquid in the middle of Kitty’s plate, dangerously close to the rest of her nuggets.
“NO!! ANNA! WHY??” Kitty complained and gave a disgusted look at her plate. “Now I can’t finish my food!”
“That’s for trying to steal the maple syrup from me this morning,” Cleves replied with a satisfied smile. “And you’ll be fine, Kitty! I didn’t get it on your food, which I definitely could have done. You’re welcome for that.”
“Stop bullying my cousin, Cleves,” Anne spoke up. “Unless you wanna catch these hands!” Anne squared up from her place across from Cleves before doubling over in pain. “Ow! That’s not fair! You kicked me!”
Aragon chuckled. “I think that’s pretty fair game, Anne. You asked if Cleves wanted to fight and she retaliated appropriately.”
“Wow, Catherine! I am so hurt,” Anne exclaimed dramatically, bringing her hand to her chest in a demonstration of faux pain. “At least Cathy’s on my side. Right, Cathy?”
Anne turned to look at Cathy who was now frozen with panic at the mention of her name. Cathy looked up from her plate and mumbled out a few words. “Uhm, yeah. Sure.”
Cathy looked down at her plate once more, missing the concerned looks the queens exchanged at her sudden change in demeanor.
Jane spoke up to break the uncomfortable silence that was growing. “I know what we should do! After dinner, we should have a movie night!”
The other queens expressed approval, except for Cathy. “You all can go ahead. I’ll join you another time,” Cathy responded, not too keen on spending the rest of her night in any other way than sulking in her room while reading.
“C’mon, Cathy! Join us!” Cleves pleaded before an idea struck her. “We can put on one of those crime documentaries you like so much.”
Though the thought was appealing, Cathy shook her head. “Maybe another time.”
“Or we can have a game night! Though I refuse to play Mafia again. We all get way too aggressive during that,” Aragon chimed in, hoping that Cathy would agree to her request.
“Yeah! We can play Scrabble!” Anne piped up excitedly before bumping shoulders with Cathy. “You love Scrabble!”
Cathy smiled weakly but still refused. “I think I’ll pass. But you all can do something without me. It’s fine, really.”
“No it’s not! It won’t be the same without you, Cathy!” Anne blurted out before turning beet red at her outburst.
Cathy opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by Kitty’s voice. “A sleepover! Let’s have a sleepover!” Cathy looked over to Kitty and was met with her pleading eyes. “Please, Cathy?”
Cathy sighed quietly. She already felt guilty for denying the other queens’ offers so Kitty’s final plea was enough for her to finally acquiesce. “Alright. Fine. I just want to finish the chapter I was reading in my book before I join. I stopped halfway through it before coming down for dinner.”
The queens let out a collective sigh of relief at Cathy’s response. “No problem, love,” Jane commented and smiled gently at Cathy.
“Yay! I’m going to bring my fluffy blanket from my room,” Kitty exclaimed excitedly, moving her chair back in an attempt to retrieve said item.
“Not so fast, Kitty! You still have to finish your dinner,” Aragon said.
“But there’s mustard on it!” Kitty complained, slowly scooting back to the table.
The rest of the queens’ dinner was quiet as they quickly finished their food in anticipation for their impromptu sleepover. Cathy, however, was slowly growing to dread what was to come. She knew that her friends were just trying to cheer her up but she would have much preferred to be alone in her room with her thoughts instead.
So, instead of reading the rest of her chapter like she said she would, Cathy spent those minutes in her bedroom in complete panic mode. Could she somehow find a way to get out of this? Would they let her escape if she just said she was sick? Why did Anne smile at her like that when she opened the door? Didn’t she have feelings for someone else? Was Cathy being selfish for enjoying her attention while it lasted?
Of course, her thoughts always led back to Anne Boleyn and her beautiful smile. Cathy shook the thought out of her head as she quickly changed into her pajamas. She would have to join the other queens downstairs soon or they would start to worry about her again.
Cathy moved in front of her mirror and took a deep breath. It was just a sleepover, with her friends. There was nothing to be anxious about. Cathy breathed out slowly and felt much more calm. The queens cared about her; that’s why they were having a sleepover in the first place.
With that thought in her mind, Cathy left her bedroom and made her way down the stairs. As she entered the living room, she saw the queens sitting on the floor and laughing as Cleves told them one of her stories.
“- and that’s how I catfished a supermodel,” Cleves finished as the queens erupted into laughter. As Cathy got closer, she noticed that Jane had tears streaming down her face and was wheeze-laughing at the story.
“What’s so funny?” Cathy spoke up with a small smile. The queens turned to look at her with bright smiles.
“You made it!” Kitty piped up with a squeal from where she was snuggled up in her neon pink fluffy blanket.
Anne scooted to her right to make enough space for Cathy to sit next to her. Cathy noticed and slowly made her way to sit beside Anne. After she had made herself comfortable, Anne turned to Cathy and filled her in on the story she had missed. “So, apparently Cleves likes to catfish people on Tinder. She even got the attention of some supermodel and she broke their heart. Which is kind of mean but it’s super funny when she reads the text messages out loud.”
“In my defense, I ghost them after I get bored,” Cleves said with a laugh.
“That’s worse, Anna!” Kitty yelped and lightly smacked Cleves on the arm.
“Weirdly enough, those text messages remind me of this guy who unsuccessfully tried to win my heart,” Aragon commented.
“What?!” Cathy exclaimed. “What happened?”
“Yes! Tell us what happened, Catherine!” Anne chimed in.
“So, I was minding my business and reading the Bible in a park like I usually do on Sundays,” Aragon began. “I was sitting on a bench when this guy suddenly sat down next to me and handed me a letter. I reluctantly took it and began to read it. The words sounded really familiar until I realized that he had just written down chapter 4 of Song of Solomon. At the end of the letter, he had written his number with a little heart. As if I would call him after he plagiarized the Bible in an attempt to woo me. Needless to say, I stopped going to that park after that.”
By time Aragon finished her story, all of the queens were laughing together. Cathy realized how nice it was to have a good laugh with her friends. This was a much better way to spend her night than sulking in her room about her own misfortune.
“For the record, I totally would have called him,” Anne jested earning more laughter from the queens. “Do you still have the letter?”
“Sadly, I threw it away. Otherwise, I would give you his number so you could call him,” Aragon said. “Maybe you two would hit it off.”
“I doubt it. I have my eyes on someone else anyway,” Anne responded, sneaking a quick glance at Cathy that went completely unnoticed by her. The other queens all shared knowing looks while Cathy’s gaze dropped to the floor in disappointment. Cathy’s heart sank when she heard those words come out of Anne’s mouth. She didn’t want to be reminded of Anne’s feelings for the mystery girl, especially not when she was finally beginning to feel better after what had happened earlier.
Cathy was grateful when the other queens began telling more stories. Slowly, Cathy felt the sinking feeling in her chest change into an elated bubble of joy. She laughed so much at their ridiculous anecdotes, growing even more grateful for her friends. The queens had noticed how upset she was and decided to cheer her up in whatever way they could. It meant a lot to Cathy knowing that she had such amazing people in her life that she could always depend on.
Cathy looked around at each of the queens before her eyes landed on Anne Boleyn. She was slightly caught off guard when she noticed that Anne was already looking at her. When their eyes met, Anne tilted her head slightly to the side and smiled at Cathy. In turn, Cathy smiled back and stared into those gorgeous emerald orbs, letting herself get lost in their depths.
Anne might have her eyes on someone else but right now she’s looking at me, Cathy thought to herself. And that’s all that matters.
“Ooh! Let’s play truth or dare!” Kitty exclaimed, breaking Anne and Cathy out of their moment. The queens agreed and started the game. They all had a great time watching each other answer embarrassing questions and completing funny dares.
After Cleves had successfully completed Jane’s dare of prank calling one of their neighbors, she turned to Cathy with a smirk on her face that made Cathy nervous.
“Cathy, truth or dare?” Cleves asked.
“Truth,” Cathy answered simply, knowing better than to ask for a dare from Cleves.
Cleves smirked even wider as she began her question. “What do you write about in your journal?”
Cathy’s face paled at the question, knowing she couldn’t give an honest answer without professing her feelings for Anne. “I’m chickening out,” Cathy said with an embarrassed smile on her face.
“Laaaaame,” Cleves taunted.
“Oh, c’mon Cathy! It can’t be that bad!” Kitty added on. “Tell us!”
“No, absolutely not. There’s a reason it’s a private journal and not a public journal,” Cathy responded. “I’m officially chickening out of that truth.”
“Wow, I’m so disappointed,” Anne said, faking disapproval. “As someone who has never chickened out, it breaks my heart to see you turn to the dark side, Cathy.”
“Oh hush,” Cathy responded and playfully nudged Anne’s shoulder with her own. “It’s my turn then.” Cathy looked around to see who she should ask next. A brief thought of asking Anne who she had feelings for crossed her mind before she quickly dismissed it. Cathy didn’t know if she wanted to know the answer. She would rather just pretend that nothing was going on and everything was fine, just for tonight.
Instead, Cathy turned her eyes to Kitty. “Okay, Kitty. Truth or dare?”
Kitty’s eyes lit up as she responded. “Dare!”
Cathy thought for a moment before she came up with the perfect dare for the younger girl. “I dare you to eat a whole tablespoon of mustard.” A wicked grin stretched across Cathy’s face when she saw Kitty nearly burst into tears at the dare.
“NO! Cathy please!! Anything but mustard!” Kitty cried out.
“Rules are rules, Kitty,” Aragon commented.
“Unless you wanna chicken out,” Jane chimed in.
Kitty hesitated, carefully pondering her options. Cleves began making chicken sounds as Kitty delayed her response.
“Kitty, don’t chicken out on me! I can’t lose you too!” Anne joked. Kitty gave her cousin a desperate look which Anne responded to by beginning to chant, “Do it! Do it! Do it!”
The queens joined in until five voices were chanting for Kitty to complete the dare. Finally, Kitty caved and said, “Okay! Fine! I’ll eat the stupid mustard!”
The queens followed Kitty into the kitchen and watched her as she squeezed the mustard into a spoon. A look of utter disgust passed over Kitty’s face as she brought the spoon to her lips. Slowly, the queens watched as she quickly put the spoon in her mouth and swallowed. Kitty gagged at the taste but gratefully took the glass of water that Anne was handing to her.
The queens cheered as Kitty downed the glass of water in a vain attempt to get the taste of mustard off her tongue. Kitty grimaced and placed the spoon and cup in the sink. Kitty looked at Cathy and shook her head. “I hope you’re happy. That was the worst thing I’ve ever done in my life.”
Cathy giggled. “I’m sorry, Kitty!”
“Don’t apologize. I know you don’t mean it,” Kitty muttered as the queens made their way back to their spots in the living room.
“It’s my turn now,” Kitty said and looked around at all the queens before her eyes landed on Anne. Cathy noticed the two cousins share a glance which caused a petrified look to pass over Anne’s face. Anne shook her head slightly but Kitty had already made up her mind. “Anne, truth or dare?”
Anne hesitated for a moment before responding. “Dare.”
Kitty glared at Anne momentarily before a satisfied smile passed over her face. “I dare you to kiss Cathy.”
Cathy’s mouth dropped in shock, mirroring the girl next to her. Had she heard that right? Did Kitty really just say that? Cathy was left at a loss for words. A storm of emotions and thoughts swirled in her mind about what Kitty had just said.
Cleves whooped loudly at Kitty’s dare and pointed to Anne, who was shifting uncomfortably in her spot. “You’re not going to chicken out of this, or are you Anne?” Cleves taunted.
Much to Cathy’s surprise, Anne said nothing. She didn’t jump to defend her honor of never chickening out how she usually did. Cathy looked at her and saw Anne turn to her with soft eyes and a shy smile.
“We don’t have to do this, if you don’t want to,” Anne whispered to Cathy, before dropping her gaze to the floor. “I can chicken out if you want.”
“Anne Boleyn! You never chicken out!” Cathy responded incredulously as Anne looked up to meet her eyes once more. “I won’t get in the way of that. I mean, it’s just a kiss.”
Just a kiss I dream about every night, Cathy thought to herself. She subconsciously bit her lip. Cathy was secretly looking forward to the kiss. She had wanted to kiss Anne for so long now that it almost didn’t feel real that it was actually about to happen.
“Yeah, just a kiss,” Anne said as she dropped her gaze momentarily from Cathy. A sad look passed over Anne’s face, though Cathy didn’t understand why. Anne looked back up with a tender look on her face that sent butterflies stirring in Cathy’s stomach.
Anne brought her hand up to cup Cathy’s cheek gently, slowly caressing her cheekbone with her thumb. Cathy’s breath caught in her throat and she was suddenly hyper aware of everything around her. The feeling of Anne’s hand on her cheek, the soft look in those emerald green eyes, and the small smile on Anne’s face brought back all the love that Cathy had for the girl in front of her. The girl she was finally about to kiss.
Cathy’s gaze dropped to Anne’s lips, desperate to finally have them on her own. Cathy watched as Anne’s smile morphed until her mouth was slightly parted. She watched Anne quickly lick her lips nervously before feeling Anne pull her in slowly.
Anne leaned forward and connected their lips in a gentle, feathersoft kiss. Cathy felt her insides melt at the touch as the stirring of butterflies intensified. A million thoughts were running through her mind until it suddenly blanked when she felt Anne slowly begin to move her lips. Cathy reciprocated at the same pace, bringing her hand up to Anne’s cheek to feel more contact with the girl she loved.
They quickened their pace gradually, matching each other’s movements perfectly. Anne pulled Cathy closer to her, slowly tracing her bottom lip with her tongue. Cathy had to stifle a moan at the feeling which sent Cathy’s mind into overdrive. Cathy abruptly pulled away from Anne as very loud alarms blared in her mind, signalling that something was very wrong.
Cathy’s mind was swirling with an endless hurricane of thoughts, threatening to drown her in their whirlpool. She suddenly felt out of control of herself and frantically looked around the room for a way out.
“Cathy, what’s wrong?” Anne’s concerned voice brought Cathy back to reality for a moment.
“No- nothing,” Cathy stammered, unable to look Anne in the eye. “I’m actually feeling pretty tired so I think I’m going to head to bed early.” Cathy quickly got up from her spot, not meeting any of the worried looks of the queens.
“Cathy, wait!” Anne exclaimed desperately, scrambling to her feet as well.
“Goodnight,” Cathy said quickly before rushing out of the room, leaving behind a very confused Anne with a brokenhearted expression on her face.
Cathy ran up the stairs and into her room, shutting the door quickly before any of the queens decided to follow her. She collapsed against it as she began hyperventilating. What had she done? Why had Cathy agreed to that stupid dare? Now, she was worse off than she had ever been before.
Now, she not only had to deal with Anne’s feelings for someone else but also the fact that they had shared a kiss that meant nothing to Anne. But, it meant everything Cathy. The kiss had been magical, everything she had been dreaming about and more. But it still plagued Cathy to know that Anne felt nothing when she kissed her. To Anne, it was some silly dare that she had only done to keep her pride intact.
That thought mocked Cathy. Anne probably felt guilty about kissing someone else while she was still pining after her mystery girl. The girl Anne actually cared about. The girl Cathy craved to be. All she wanted was for Anne to love her in return. Was that too much to ask?
Cathy huffed and tried to control her breathing. She took slow breaths until the feeling that she was suffocating subsided. She pushed away from her door and crossed the room to her desk, pulling out her journal in a rush. She quickly turned on her desk lamp and flipped to a free page before choking back a sob when she saw her bookmark. Those pictures mocked her, making her feel even more foolish for ever hoping that Anne would kiss her. Now that she had, it had only made everything worse.
Cathy threw the bookmark on the floor angrily and grabbed her pen. Cathy wiped at the tears she hadn’t even realized were streaming down her face. She had to get her feelings out before they consumed her. She had to write it out before she drowned in her own sorrows.
Love is an ocean of torment and pain, black waters that rise and rage against all who dare to swim in its shallows. One moment I was wading in a crystal bay and enjoying the gentle waves crashing against my skin and in the next I was thrashing to get to the surface as vicious currents pulled me deeper, drowning me in my own despair. I understand why Aphrodite was born from the foam of such a volatile entity. Love changes like the tides of the sea, rising and falling in accordance to the hope that foolish lovers cling to as if for dear life.
I was foolish enough to hope for love. I bartered my heart for a kiss, only to find that lipstick marks are a mockery of what I wanted. I didn’t want a kiss. I wanted Anne Boleyn! I wanted all of her, every single part of her. I wanted her lips, I wanted her eyes, I wanted her smile, I wanted her affection, I wanted her desire. I wanted her to feel what I felt when she kissed me.
When her lips touched mine, I felt my heart come alive in my chest. It was as if it had been dormant my whole life and was suddenly awakened by Anne’s gentle touch. I saw the birth of the sun, a brilliant light that drowns out all darkness in the galaxy. I smelled fields of lemongrass and groves filled with vanilla flowers and overgrown honeysuckle bushes, the scent I always imagine breathing in right before I fall asleep. I heard the sound of windchimes softly ringing out a lullaby and the quiet whispers of the wind, telling me all the secrets of the earth as they billowed past my ear. And I finally tasted Anne on my lips. She tasted of everything good I could ever describe and more. She tasted like the first bite of my chocolate birthday cake from last year but better. She tasted like the warm coffee I drink to keep me awake while I read but stronger. She tasted like the candy we ate together after trick-or-treating last Halloween but sweeter.
But Anne felt none of that. She didn’t see, smell, or hear what I did. She didn’t taste anything when she kissed me. My heart is cleaved in two when I think of how differently we experienced that kiss. We were the closest we had ever been when we kissed yet I have never felt more far away from Anne. While I was thinking about my endless love for her, Anne was concerned with her own pride. While my mind was reeling with the magic of Anne’s lips on mine, her mind was completely blank.
I lament ever pleading for her kiss! It has brought me so much despair because now I realize that everything I want and everything I am will never be enough for Anne. My most precious memories are nothing but passing thoughts to her. The moments that keep me awake at night, those same moments I journal about, are forgotten by Anne when she wakes up the next morning. I am overrun by my feelings for her, feelings that she has no need or desire for.
I can’t go on like this! I simply won’t. From now on, I will keep my feelings locked away in my heart and out of sight from prying eyes. I will consign my feelings to admiring Anne from a distance. I will harbor my love in a prison, not free to run rampant as I let it for so long. I will keep my distance so I can have a chance to heal my broken heart. Maybe then I can be the friend Anne deserves, the friend she needs me to be. At least I can find my peace in that role, even if I can’t have what I truly desire. But, I’m willing to make these sacrifices because Anne… my beloved Anne… means everything to me.
Cathy scribbled her name out at the bottom of the page and stopped writing as her tears returned with a vengeance. She put her pen down and rested her face in her hands as she quietly sobbed into them. Cathy stayed like that for a few minutes until a wave of exhaustion washed over her. She reached for the tissue box that she had gotten from Jane and hastily wiped the tears from her face.
Cathy sighed heavily before taking a few deep breaths to calm herself down. She slowly turned in her chair to find where her bookmark had landed. Cathy found it by her foot and sighed gratefully that it was face down. She picked it up and placed it back in her journal, keeping it face down the entire time. Cathy closed the journal and returned it to its place in her desk drawer. She reached over to her lamp and flipped the switch, plunging her back into darkness.
Cathy closed her eyes tiredly for a moment before lumbering her way to her bed. She crawled under her covers and tried to fall asleep, though her memories of the day kept her awake as they replayed in her head. Eventually, Cathy drifted into a restless sleep, plagued with nightmares of those green eyes and that devilish smirk.
#parrlyn#parrelyn#parrlyn fanfic#six the musical#six the musical fanfic#anne boleyn#catherine parr#anne boleyn x catherine parr
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Your voice is my drug (Morgan Reid kinktober voice kink)
Morgan had just got done visiting with his mother. He still had the next two days off he was in his hotel room lonely and bored.
He missed the team but most of all he missed Spencer. He missed hearing Spencer's voice especially when he gets excited. It makes him feel warm inside and sometimes it turns him on.
He just had to hear his voice. But what was he going to say and how was he going to say it.
If they were actually officially boyfriends that would be different. But Derek hadn't told him how he felt.
Sure he tried in many ways to show Spencer how he felt. But those actions always seem to go over pretty boy's head.
Finally Derek couldn't take it anymore he just had to hear his voice. but before he calls Spencer he gathered up some supplies.
He got tissues warming lube and then he got his phone walking over to the bed he was only dressed in his pajama top and socks nothing else.
He positioned himself in a comfortable position on the bed. Then he hits Spencer's number which was number one on his speed dial.
It was lunchtime and Spencer was actually eating lunch. Hotch actually made him eat something more than a granola bar.
Aaron made him two tuna salad sandwiches a bag of chips an apple and four homemade brownies.
Spencer felt his phone buzz he jumped at first at the sudden sensation. He took his phone out of his pocket and smiled when he saw it was Derek.
"Hey Der man what's up?" Spencer asked with a mouthful of sandwich.
''Not much just honestly wanted to hear your voice. Even though it seems like you do have a mouth full of something." Derek said with a little bit of a chuckle.
The warm feeling started deep in his chest. He knew the more he got Spencer talking the more it would get him off.
He knew he would have to get him excited about something.
"You want to hear my voice really? I mean usually you guys want me to be quiet because I tend to ramble. Especially when I'm really excited about a subject oh dear I'm doing it now." Spencer said as he took a drink of coffee to wash down the sandwich that was still in his mouth.
God why did he stop this was the time to ramble come on Wonderboy. Derek thought to himself.
Derek had warming lube on his hand and was already starting to stroke his member moaning softly. When Spencer stopped talking he was already hard damn it why did Wonderboy have to stop.
"Come on man forget about us not liking you rambling when we're on a case. We're not on the case I love hearing you get excited. Tell me more about what happened since I was gone." Derek said trying to stifle a moan as he kept on stroking himself.
"Well Hotch got me an espresso when we were out to lunch on Monday. I was running around the building and getting lots and lots of paperwork done. I had so much energy asking so many questions. Aaron said he would never give me an espresso again. But I loved it I love espresso I want one now." Spencer said giving the phone puppy eyes.
Derek let out a stifled moan and a chuckle mixed together. He was getting harder and harder with each stroke and each word that Spencer said.
"Spenc tell me you're not giving the phone puppy eyes. You know we're not on video call it's not like I can see them. I don't think you need any more espresso you drink enough caffeine as it is." Derek said with another chuckle and this time a full-blown moan.
"Morgan are you all right you're moaning. But it doesn't sound like you're in pain. It sounds more like you're enjoying yourself. What are you doing? Oh my gosh you're not pleasuring yourself are you?!"Spencer said that last part a little louder than he meant to.
Aaron was walking by Spencer's office the door was open so Aaron heard what was said. Aaron stopped with his coffee behind the door so Spencer couldn't see him.
"Spencer please not so loud. Yes I am and I'll explain later. But please just keep on talking would you?" Derek asked softly into the phone with a moan.
"I don't know what's going on or why you want to hear my voice so badly. But I'll keep on talking for you. Are you sure you're okay? I'm really worried about you and I really miss you." Spencer said looking at the phone with really big puppy eyes and he looked really worried.
Aaron had to stifle a little bit of a chuckle. He could hear both ends of the conversation because Spencer had him on speakerphone.
Aaron knew exactly what was going on that's what was so funny to him.
"That's it Spencer please just keep on talking. For the love of God Wonderboy keep on talking." Derek breathed out with a moan his member was so close to releasing.
It was already starting to leak God this felt so good.
"Wait Spencer you miss me?" Morgan said moaning out Spencer's name as he released a pretty good size load all over his hand and the front of the bed.
"Yes uh I miss you a lot. I especially miss you touching me when I ramble too much or when I feel nervous. Derek I have to confess something I think I love you." Spencer said quietly.
Aaron was listening to this conversation his heart started to melt. He decided to sit down behind the door and drink his coffee so he can hear the rest of it.
"I love you too Spencer I have since the first time I met you. That's why every time you were hurt I was by your side in the hospital when I could be there. And when I couldn't be there I was always calling you to see how you were doing. Also the reason I called you today is I just needed to hear your voice. Your voice is my drug it drives me crazy and I love it. I love it when you get excited and ramble about things that you like. Spencer the only reason we stop you when we're on a case or you're doing a press conference it's because at those moments everything has to be quick. Babyboy I love you so much." Derek said as he got up and started to clean off himself and the bed.
Aaron started to clap his hands and cheer.
"About damn time you two finally got together. I was getting tired of all the awkward flirting. Everything going over top of Spencer's head and then there was the eye fucking. You two making googly eyes at each other." Aaron said getting up off the floor grumbling a little bit because his body was aching a little.
"Uh Hotchner sir how much of that did you hear?" Spencer asked blushing reder than an overripe tomato.
"A lot Reid a lot but don't be embarrassed I'm glad you guys are together. Also I always knew that Derek had a voice kink when it came to your voice. Every time you would ramble he would look like he was getting a hard-on." Aaron said smirking a little and chuckling.
"I will admit it sir I am addicted to Spencer's voice. Let me guess sir I'm on speakerphone? Spencer why the hell am I on speakerphone babyboy please tell me why?" Derek asked with a little bit of a chuckle.
"I was eating lunch and I didn't want to get my phone all sticky and grimy. So I put you on speakerphone sorry." Spencer said given the most saddest puppy eyes that anybody has ever seen.
"Babyboy I got to go take a shower. But I want you to stop giving the sad puppy eyes no one is mad at you. I'll call you sometime tomorrow I promise babyboy. And I can't wait to come back home to you." Derek said as he got up heading to the bathroom.
"Goodbye my Hershey kiss I love you very much and I'll talk to you later." Spencer said as both of them hung up at the same time.
"I'm very proud of you too for finally admitting your feelings for each other. You guys will make an adorable couple." Aaron said smiling like a proud father.
"You really think so? You really support us sir?" Spencer asked softly looking at Aaron tilting his head.
"Of course I support you two you two and the rest of my team are like family to me." Aaron said rubbing Spencer's back softly.
Spencer flinched a little bit at first when Aaron started to rub his back. But then he relaxed at Aaron's touch.
Spencer was really happy to know that Derek loved him and Aaron thought of him as family.
The end.....
_______________
@davidrossi-ismydad @criminalgubler @misteria247 @aaronhotchnerr @blakes-dictionxry @crackheadcastdirector @askrosemarymckneal @whoreforhotch
@catherine-adams
@eideticprettyboyspencer
#criminal minds fanfiction#criminal minds family#criminal minds#kinktober#voice kink#derek morgan/spencer reid#proud dad Hotch
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Change of Plans - Part 3
Pairing: Drake Walker x MC (Riley Liu)
Book: The Royal Romance (An It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment universe AU, set nearly 3 years after that epilogue)
Word Count: ~4700
Rating: NC-17 (language, 30 diamond scene)
Summary: Living in NYC in March 2020 is redefining normal for Drake and Riley. Life doesn’t always go according to plan during a pandemic, after all.
Author’s Note: Finally finished up the third and final installment of my AU inside my AU. Sorry the word count got away from me a bit here, but hopefully you all like this conclusion to the journey even further into the real world for these two. (I might have fallen in love with this version more than my planned version... oops)
Just like parts 1 and 2, this does hint at or reference some events from the prologue and the first couple of chapters of Why Are We Still Waiting?, but it does not spoil the core content of the story. And again, Trigger warning for coronavirus discussions. Also, explicit adult content in this part.
Part of Drake couldn’t quite believe that today was actually real. It felt sort of surreal still, even though he had the marriage certificate in his hand and was wearing a ring on his finger. Even though the officiant’s words still ran through his mind, pronouncing them married. It felt too much like a dream. But they were married. She was his wife.
They were in their cab, back to their apartment. Obviously, no reception. No bars or restaurants were even open, except for takeout. But that was alright. Being married to her, that was what mattered. Who really cared if it didn’t happen as they planned?
“So, for our honeymoon, what do you think about Brooklyn?” Riley asked, settling in under the arm he’d thrown across her shoulders after giving the driver their address.
Drake chuckled, “Sounds great. You have a place in mind?”
“Yup! I found this little one bedroom apartment with absolutely no amenities, but it does come with a corgi.”
“Perfect. Hopefully it comes with the opportunity for digital filing of cases, because that’s what I really want to do.”
“But you finished your work for today, right?”
Drake nodded. It had been a pain in the ass, but he’d been able to take care of enough between last night and this morning that he would probably not draw attention to the fact that he’d taken this afternoon off. It had seemed stupid to tell his supervisor his plan when he’d been able to get the work done. The firm might be letting people work from home, but that didn’t change the fact that the leadership on his team was a bunch of frat bro assholes that would have absolutely made him use a half day of vacation.
“Good,” she said, turning her head and leaning over slightly so that her lips were practically on his ear, “I’ve got plans for you.”
Drake swallowed roughly, sparing a quick glance towards the cab driver before turning his head and kissing her. The only thing hotter than the promise her words held was the fact that she was now saying them as his wife.
After a few moments, Drake pulled back, not wanting to make the driver too uncomfortable, but Riley tugged him down again, deepening the kiss slightly. However, after several seconds, a loud buzzing sound interrupted them. Riley leaned back slightly, pulling her phone out of her purse.
“What the hell?” she said as she unlocked her phone. “I have six texts from Maxwell. Wait - seven.”
Drake watched her open up her messaging app, and she let out a big sigh almost instantly. She quickly titled her phone so he could read the screen.
😲😃😭🤗😤🥳
That’s all my feelings
Because
OMG
YOU GUYS GOT MARRIED
YAY!!! 👰🤵🥂
WITHOUT ME
BOO!!!! 😡👎👿
Drake glanced up from her phone, “How does he know?” They had decided it was better to tell Liam and Iris, Hana and Catherine, and Maxwell, Savannah, Bertrand, and the kids at the same time, and since they had plans for a Zoom call this weekend, that had seemed like the perfect opportunity. No hurt feelings at being the last to know, no guilt trips from Maxwell, and no judgement from his sister for eloping. However, Maxwell had apparently found out within 15 minutes of the ceremony.
“I have no idea how he-” Riley started, but stopped abruptly, “Shit. Give me your phone.”
“Why?”
“I want to check if Daniel posted our photos to Pictagram.”
“Liu, I don’t have Pictagram.”
“Yes, you do. Maxwell and I set that up for you like a year ago.”
“Yeah… I deleted it as soon as he left town.”
Riley rolled her eyes at him, but closed out her message thread with Maxwell and opened up her Pictagram account. Sure enough @liuthebagelbitch and @dw519 were tagged in numerous photos in Daniel’s account and story. Them signing the paperwork. Sitting on the couch waiting. Holding hands and saying vows. Putting on their rings. Kissing at the end of the ceremony.
“Maxwell must follow Daniel,” Riley said, scrolling through the feed, “Yup, squidwiththemoves has liked every single photo.” She sighed, exiting the app. “And he’s texted me ten more times. We have to call him.”
Drake nodded, but before Riley could even open her contacts list, a Facetime request popped up from Maxwell Beaumont. Letting out one last sigh, Riley swiped to accept the call.
“Hey Maxwell!”
“What the hell? I’ve been working on my speech for your ceremony for years, Riley!”
“Wanna try that again?” Riley asked, raising her eyebrows expectantly.
Maxwell sighed, “I mean, congratulations! I’m so happy you decided to get married without telling me or inviting me.”
“Oh, I’m sorry we didn’t consider you in our wedding,” Drake called out, leaning into the view of the camera and rolling his eyes.
“Drake! How could you do this to me, buddy?”
“Do you really want me to answer that question, buddy?”
Riley elbowed him slightly, probably wanting him to not escalate the situation. Truth be told, Drake was only mildly annoyed at Maxwell making their wedding all about him. The bigger issue was going to be getting Maxwell to keep quiet about it until Sunday. That was basically four full days from now, and Maxwell had barely been able to contain himself back when he found out that he and Riley were involved for half that time.
“Sorry, Maxwell. But we didn’t want to wait again. Plus, I lost my health insurance, so now I’m able to go on Drake’s.”
“Why didn’t you guys tell me, though?”
“Because we wanted to keep this quiet and not make it everyone else’s business,” Drake grumbled.
“And,” Riley added, shooting him a look before she continued, “we were planning to tell all you guys together on Sunday.”
“I just can’t believe I wasn’t there,” Maxwell said, shaking his head sadly.
“We wish you could have been. We really do. But you understand why that wasn’t an option, right?”
Maxwell nodded. “Yeah, I get it.”
“And do you think you could not mention it to anyone before we see everyone on Sunday?”
There was a long pause following Riley’s question before Maxwell responded, “I promise not to tell anyone else.”
“Maxwell… who have you told already?” Drake asked, the word ‘else’ jumping out in his mind.
“Not that many, people I swear!”
“Well, I just got a ‘congratulations’ text with several question marks from Hana,” said Riley, glancing at the notification that had flashed across the top of her screen.
“I had to find out if you had told her and not me!” Maxwell said, gesturing towards the screen emphatically with his free hand.
“And Iris just asked me if what she’s seeing is real,” Riley continued as another notification popped up.
“I wanted to make sure she wasn’t more looped in that I was!”
“And now Savannah’s asking if I really married her brother today.”
“Wait, why is my sister texting you and not me?” Drake asked as Maxwell continued his defense, saying “I mean, we live under the same roof, so of course I asked her what she knew.”
“Maxwell, is there anyone you didn’t tell?” Riley asked, shaking her head.
“Well, Liam didn’t answer my calls, so he probably doesn’t know.”
“You told Iris!”
“Yeah, okay… fair,” Maxwell trailed off, clearly trying to find someone he hadn’t told. “This really isn’t my fault, though! You posted those pictures!”
“Daniel was our witness and photographer. He’s the one who posted them.”
“Well, then blame him. I just acted the way any normal person in my position would have acted.”
“Wanna try that again?” asked Drake, prompting a chuckle from Riley.
“Fine, I just acted in a way that you guys should have totally predicted. In fact, part of me wonders if you wanted me to find out so that I would tell everyone, and you wouldn’t have to deal with the drama of telling them that you got married without them.”
“Maxwell!”
“Fine, I’ll let you go be nauseating newlyweds. Congrats, you two!” With a little wave, Maxwell ended the call.
“Well, I guess people know,” said Riley after a moment.
Drake let out a sigh, tipping his head back against the top of the seat.
“You aren’t really upset, are you? I mean, I know we decided to tell everyone at once, but it’s not such a big deal that they know, is it?”
“Nah, it’s just annoying that instead of this just being our thing for now, we’re gonna spend our entire wedding night on the phone with people.”
Riley let out a little burst of laughter at that, so Drake twisted his neck to glance at her. “What?” he asked.
“I think you are severely overestimating how many close friends we have. I bet we can finish this up before we even get back to our place.”
“Really.”
“You take Liam and Iris; I’ll take Hana and Catherine. All our New York friends can wait, don’t you think?”
“What about Savannah?”
Riley paused for just a moment, “We can set up a video call with her and your mother tomorrow.”
“But she lives with Maxwell. She knows that-”
“She owes us our wedding day, Drake.”
Drake nodded. As much as he wished that Riley and his sister got along perfectly, he knew that Riley had a good point there.
“So, I’m gonna call Hana. If you give Liam a call now, it can just be our time when we get home.”
She didn’t have to tell him twice, so as she tapped Hana in her contact list, he unlocked his phone and scrolled to Liam in his recent contacts. The phone only rang twice before Liam answered.
“Yes, Iris. I see. Please let me actually talk to him, love?” Liam asked, his voice muffled and quiet initially before growing much louder. “Drake, I’m glad you called. You are apparently the source of great excitement here tonight.”
“Yeah… I didn’t mean to be-”
“Well, you are, my friend. Between my three missed calls from Maxwell about, and I quote ‘something that I probably wouldn’t consider an emergency, but he sure did’ and Iris bursting into my office with pictures of Riley and you pulled up on her phone, I’ve not been able to get very far in reviewing my nightly briefings.”
“Sorry about that. But, I… er, do have some news.”
“So I am gathering. It appears congratulations are in order,” Liam said. In the background, Drake heard a quieter “Congrats, you two,” that presumably came from Iris.
“Uhh, yeah. We decided to get married.”
“I’m guessing this was Riley’s idea?”
“What makes you say that?”
“She’s just a touch more prone to impulsive action than you.”
“Well, you’re wrong this time.”
“This was you?” The shock was evident in Liam’s voice, and it did bring a smile to Drake’s face. It wasn’t often that Drake was able to surprise him.
“It was.”
“Congratulations, Drake,” Liam replied after a moment, “I’m truly very happy for both of you.”
“Sorry we didn’t-”
“No. I’m happy for you. I’m not accepting any apologies as there is nothing that happened today for which you should feel even remotely sorry.”
“Thanks, Liam.”
“Can I talk to Riley?”
Drake glanced over at Riley, “She’s on the phone with Hana,” but she held up one finger and then held her free hand open, “but I think she’s about to wrap up and wants to talk to you, too.” Riley nodded in agreement.
“Excellent. And I mean it Drake, I know how much this means to both of you. So, truly, I wish you congratulations and nothing but happiness.”
Feeling a lump in his throat, Drake swallowed roughly. But before he could process the words of his oldest and dearest friend, Riley was snatching his phone out of his hand and passing her phone to him.
Hana and Catherine wished him brief, but heartfelt congratulations, but Riley was still on the phone with Liam after he said goodbye to them. He could only really hear her half of the conversation, and she wasn’t saying much, mainly listening to him apparently. Every so often, she would throw in an “of course” or “you know I will,” but other than a few chuckles, she was largely silent. Every so often, he would catch a word or two from Liam, but their conversation was basically a mystery to him.
It was a little strange, to think about how a couple of years ago, having to sit as an outsider while Liam and Riley shared something private would have filled him with a mix of jealousy and guilt and anger. Now, it was certainly a bit odd that his best friend seemed to have more to say to his… his wife than he did to him, but it wasn’t a bad feeling, necessarily. If anything, he was mostly curious, with just a bit of fear about what tales from their youth and adolescence he could be telling her. Those stories would require more explanations than he wanted to give tonight.
Eventually, the cab stopped in front of their building. As Drake paid their fare, Riley wrapped up the call with Liam.
“Thanks, Liam. We’re actually home now… Yeah, I know… You too. Stay safe, and we’ll talk to you guys in a few days.”
“What was that about?” Drake asked as Riley ducked under his arm as he opened the door to their building.
“Oh, he just had a lot of really mushy things to say about you.”
“I’m serious, Liu.”
“I wasn’t kidding. I think he basically gave me his best man speech just now,” she said with a shrug as she unlocked the door from the mailroom and started up the stairs to the second floor, “He just wanted to make sure I knew how lucky I was, I think.”
“Well, that’s fucking dumb. I’m the lucky one here.”
“This has all the markings of going on for a while. Why don’t we just agree that we’re both mad lucky and call it even?” Riley called over her shoulder as she walked down the hallway and pulled her keys out of her purse.
“Wait! I’m supposed to carry you through, right?” Drake remembered as Riley moved to push open the door.
She let out a little chuckle and rolled her eyes, but stood there expectantly, so Drake stepped up and scooped her into his arms, sliding one hand forward to turn the knob and open their door. Anderson came trotting over, eager to see his two humans, while Drake placed Riley down close to the door, not wanting to track their shoes and jackets too far into the apartment.
“He could probably use a walk,” Drake said, “and we should probably shower after spending hours out in public. How about I take him while you get started since washing your hair is always a… process.”
Riley swatted his chest lightly, but nodded in agreement. “You’ll join me when you get back?”
“Absolutely.”
Anderson took care of his business quickly, so it wasn’t too long before Drake was back in their apartment, hanging his sport coat up next to Riley’s jacket and kicking off his shoes. After washing his hands, he made his way into their bathroom, where the shower was running. The steam was already starting to get thick in the room, and eager to get out of his clothes and to join her, Drake quickly moved to drop his shirt on top of the pile of clothing she’d left next to the sink, but a scrap of tan lace caught his eye.
“I knew you were bluffing!” he called out as he fully removed his shirt and started undoing his belt and jeans.
“Huh?” asked Riley, peeking her head out from behind the shower curtain.
“About not wearing underwear. I knew you were full of shit,” Drake said as he stepped out of his pants and boxers, kicking them on top of the pile before climbing into the tub and under the water, sliding his hands into her long, black hair, somehow even darker now that it was wet, as she placed her chin against his chest and her hands on his hips, turning her face up towards his with a playful little smile.
He dropped his head to hers, pulling her into a passionate kiss, trailing his hands through her hair and down to her back. After a few moments, she tilted her head back. “As much as I like where this is headed, we should actually probably shower and not get too distracted,” she teased, trailing her hands around and squeezing his ass with a wink before she ducked past him and started rinsing out her hair. “Besides,” she added, “our track record for shower sex is not great.”
Drake couldn’t help but laugh as he opened up his bottle of shampoo and started lathering up his hair. Something about the floor of this tub was extra slippery, as they had learned the hard way not long after they moved in and then foolishly required repeat lessons about at numerous times. The worst was the time that he’d needed three stitches behind his ear after colliding with the tap as he fell backward, but the time Riley nearly dislocated her shoulder was a close second. “Yeah, a trip to urgent care would be pretty far from ideal at this point,” he said as he dropped a kiss to her forehead.
And so they both showered, trying to keep any touches light and loving, not wanting things to escalate just yet, but the sight of Riley with water trailing all over her naked curves was obviously turning Drake on. Based on the way she dragged her hand across him as she reached for her body wash, she was feeling the same way. By the time she was rinsing off and stepping out of the shower, Drake was scrambling to finish up, wanting to join her as soon as possible.
When he finally turned off the water and stepped out, there she was, wrapped up in her lime green towel, working a comb through her hair. She smiled at him through the mirror, her skin still looking like it was almost glowing from the warmth and water. As he drew up behind her, he slid his hands around her waist and dropped his lips to her shoulder, prompting Riley to shake her head.
“Drake, at least let me finish working out the tangles,” she said before letting out a little sigh as he worked his way over to the side of her neck, biting down ever so lightly when he reached that spot that always drove her wild.
“Who cares?” Drake mumbled into her skin, working his fingers to gather up the towel and moving one hand to her now-exposed thigh, “You aren’t gonna be seeing anyone anyway.”
Riley shuddered, dropping her comb to the counter before snaking her hand behind his neck as he slid his fingers to her center, his touch still light and teasing. “Maybe I want to look good for my husband,” she sighed out, moving her other hand to the knotted portion of the towel across her chest.
Drake groaned. Was her statement supposed to slow him down? Because hearing the word ‘husband’ coming from her lips? Talking about him? Well, fuck. It turned him on even more. Riley had to know what that sentence would do to him, right? So, he increased the pressure of his fingers, stroking her in the way he knew she loved before sliding a finger inside her. The angle wasn’t perfect, but he could feel her arousal and the fact that she practically growled “Fuck” as she clawed her fingernails into his neck seemed to indicate that she was just as ready to keep going as he was.
After a few moments, Drake stilled his motion when Riley grabbed his wrist. She spun, letting the towel fall to the ground and hopped up onto the small counter. She tugged him between her legs, but Drake shook his head.
“Our bed is just a few feet away,” he protested as Riley wrapped her hand around him, causing him to question why he was trying to change anything going on here.
“But it’s nice and warm in here,” she responded, dropping kisses along his jaw, “and I’ve never been good at waiting, Drake. We can be all tender and gentle later. For now, I just want you to fuck your wife.” She punctuated the last words by biting down lightly on his earlobe. Letting out a groan, he brushed her hand away and lined himself up, sinking into her. He hadn’t wanted their first time as a married couple to feel like some frantic quickie, but it had always been nearly impossible for him to deny her anything. So he started rocking his hips into her, reveling in the feel of her around him. The scrape of her nails along his shoulders. Her breath across his cheek.
As he shifted his stance slightly to fill her an angle he knew would be better for her, he caught a glimpse of their reflection in the mirror. There it was, a gold band on his ring finger, resting along her spine. It was almost hard to look away, so he just kept staring at it, soaking in the sight that proved they were married. It mixed with the feel of her hands digging into his skin and her legs hooked around his back, the sound of her breathy sighs and whispered “fucks,” the taste of her skin of her neck, and the smell of her peach body wash, spurring him on and increasing his pleasure.
Sensing that he was heading towards his peak a little quicker than she was, he tore his left hand off her back, sliding it between their bodies. He glanced down to where they were joined, his thumb circling roughly right above that, his ring pressed against the skin of the thigh he clutched. He slammed his eyes shut and dropped his face into the crook of her neck, not needing any additional stimulation. But soon, he felt Riley’s leg clench around him a little more.
“Are you close?” he murmured into her ear.
“Yes,” she moaned out, arching her back slightly. He wasn’t sure if she was specifically answering his question or not, but her response was enough of an answer regardless. Picking up his pace, Drake stroked his thumb harder. He knew he was seconds away from release when he felt her clench around him. He barely was able to recognize her climax before he shattered, spilling into her as he groaned into her skin.
After a few breathless moments, Drake felt his awareness returning. He slid out of her and shifted up, reaching behind her for a washcloth off the rack, dropping a kiss along her cheek as he stood up fully and helped her off the counter.
He wanted to tell how much he loved her. How much he would always love her. How he would always try to prevent her from ever regretting today. But any words he could think of didn’t feel like they were enough to actually describe his feelings, so he settled for gentle caresses and light kisses as they got cleaned up. Before they moved to go to their bedroom to get dressed, Drake grabbed her wrist and tugged her back to him, kissing her deeply.
“I’ll make us something nice for dinner, Liu. Okay?” he said as he pulled back, running his hand through her wet hair.
She nodded and gave him a bright smile before responding, “And I have an idea for dessert.”
He raised an eyebrow at that, “You have an idea in the kitchen?”
Riley just shook her head. “Yes, you ass. And not only will I not mess it up, but I know you’ll like it.”
Dinner was a quiet affair, Riley having thrown on some acoustic cover songs in the background and lighting a couple of candles they had leftover from their Valentine’s dinner while Drake cooked up a couple of steaks, some roasted potatoes, and some sauteed frozen squash. It wasn’t a perfect meal, but he thought he’d done a decent job finding something special for them out of their stock. He’d been surprised when Riley had set their glasses of whiskey on the coffee table instead of their dining table, but he got it once she’d tucked her legs under herself and curled up against his side on the couch. It was cozy and warm and intimate and felt right for the way they’d gotten married.
After they finished eating, Drake started loading the dishwasher and soaking the pans while Riley dug around in the tall cupboard they used as their pantry and then pulled something out of the fridge.
“You better not be baking something,” Drake told her over his shoulder, “Eggs are too hard to find these days to use them in a kitchen adventure of yours,” chuckling lightly as he felt a towel whip between his shoulder blades.
“If you’re done being a smart ass, I’m ready for you.”
Drake shut off the faucet and turned to face her, a smile slipping onto his face as he took in the graham crackers, marshmallows, and chocolate bars on the counter.
“I know it’s not exactly a wedding cake, but I figured we could do s’mores over the stove,” she said, settling in next to him.
“It’s perfect, Riley,” he said, slipping his hand into hers as he noticed an apple sitting off to the side, “but why the apple?”
“Oh, well I thought we could still do the apple-cutting,” she said with a little shrug, placing her chin against his shoulder, “I mean, I wasn’t sure if someone else needed to be there for this tradition or not, but I just thought it might be nice.”
Drake squeezed her hand, grabbing a knife out of the block and handing it to her. That she had remembered the one Cordonian wedding tradition he’d mentioned incorporating into their reception and thought to do it today was so perfectly her. Not snarky her, when she was annoyed at others or the world or at him. Not playful her, who would tease and laugh and lighten the room. But thoughtful her, who saw forgotten and neglected and broken people and made sure that at least for a moment, they felt seen and heard.
“So, just carve your initials,” Drake instructed, reluctantly dropping her hand so she could pick up the apple.
“Old or new?”
“What?”
“My old initials or my new initials?”
The weight of the day hit him again. Maybe this wasn’t the wedding they’d planned, but it was still their day. Their commitment. Their promise. And that meant more than having Maxwell as the officiant or getting married where his parents did or hearing toasts from Liam or Hana ever could. Watching the woman he’d loved for years, who he knew he’d love for all the years ahead, carve “RW” into that apple was plenty special.
He knew Riley could read him and his mood. She had always been good at that even before they lived together, so it didn’t surprise him that she kept quiet as he carved his own initials into the apple, then cut out a slice for them to share. She had to know he was dangerously close to being overwhelmed, so she didn’t push, just ate her portion of the apple before taking a step to the side and lighting one of the burners. After spearing a couple of marshmallows onto two forks, she grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the stove with her. They toasted their marshmallows without saying anything and without letting go. They were ready to face the good and the bad, together and united. The world was changing, but their world felt steady and sure.
Permatag: @ravenpuff02 @octobereighth @drakewalker04 @kimmiedoo5 @speedyoperarascalparty @mfackenthal @lilyofchoices @thequeenofcronuts @jamesashtonisbae
The Royal Romance/The Royal Heir: @kingliam2019 @sirbeepsalot @texaskitten30 @princessleac1 @ladyangel70 @dcbbw @yaushie
Drake x MC only: @jovialyouthmusic @iplaydrake @gibbles82 @drakewalkerisreal @riley--walker @notoriouscs @butindeed @axwalker @drakesensworld
It Couldn’t Wait Another Moment: @wickedgypsymoon @thesumofmychoices @cosigottahavefaith @thequeenchoices @katedrakeohd @feartheendlesssummer @ao719 @ooo-barff-ooo @sunnyxdazed
Change of Plans: @drakeandcamilleofvaltoria @burnsoslow
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We’re Lost and Delirious and Can’t Be Found - Part 2
You know when you’re so tired that your eyes start to turn red? That’s me right now. My body is dying. This is great.
But hello everyone! This is the second and final part to this two-part series requested by @katherinehxward a little while back. I wasn’t planning on posting this chapter so soon but I’m having trouble writing other requests, so I thought I’d get this out so I don’t have to keep track of it anymore. This chapter is... strange, to say the least, but I hope you all enjoy! Sorry for any spelling/grammatical errors, I officially have one braincell dedicated to loving women.
Writing Masterpost
If you want to send a request or a prompt, my inbox is always open! I publish a story at 8:00 AM PST everyday, so I’m always in need of new ideas. If you want to be tagged in my works, just let me know and I’ll be sure to tag you!
Prompts | More Prompts | The Trifecta of Prompts | Original Prompts
Trigger Warnings: Violence, dead bodies, toxic behavior, mentions of sexual assault
Part 1
Cathy wiped away the sweat that was gathering on her brow. Despite the cold night air, she was still working herself up as she dug into the mound with Anne. If Anne was struggling, she didn’t show it, her eyes hyper focused on the dirt below her. The beheaded queen had come this far because of the answering machine, she wasn’t going to back out now.
The shovels made a clunking sound against the dirt at every scoop, the ringing echoing through the quietness around them. “Anne,” Cathy asked as she stuck her shovel back into the dirt. “Why are we doing this?”
Anne didn’t stop her digging, but she slowed down slightly. She didn’t look at Cathy as she responded. “I don’t know what you mean.”
Halting her shovel as it was stuck in the dirt, Cathy leaned against it. “It’s way too crazy Anne. We followed some freaky answering machine to a house we’ve never seen before, and now we’re trying to dig up a body. There’s no reason for us to be involved with this. Hell, we should probably just leave. Maybe even call the police!”
The digging continued. “I thought you didn’t want to call the police,” Anne remarked as she tossed a shovel-full of dirt to the side.
Playing with her jacket, Cathy nervously eyed the quickly dwindling mound. “Yeah, well they’re more equipped to deal with this than we are.”
“And they’re going to believe two reincarnated queens in the middle of the night who think they found a dead body?” Anne stopped to watch Cathy. “If we go to the cops, we’re going to look deranged. We don’t even know if there’s a body at all.”
“Exactly!” Cathy cried as Anne went back to digging. “We can still leave and forget any of this happened.”
Before Anne could respond, her shovel his something solid. She froze and turned to Cathy. “No,” Cathy glared at her. “Anne don’t do it!”
But Anne was already dropping to her knees and grabbing handfuls of dirt, chucking them away from whatever the shovel had hit. Cathy couldn’t do anything as she watched Anne uncover the body. There was an agonizing moment of stillness as Cathy waited for Anne to reveal what they had found. “Oh my God,” Anne choked when she cleared the dirt away from the face. “Oh my God!” she shouted, tears forming in her eyes.
Cathy was frozen as she saw the face of the body. “How is this possible?” she mumbled, her stomach squeezing tightly. She had to hold herself back from vomiting at the sight.
Frantically, Anne unburied the rest of the body, her movements erratic and disjointed. When the body was uncovered, Anne pulled it into her arms. “Oh I’m so sorry,” she mumbled, tears streaming down her face by now. “This can’t be happening.” Cathy stood motionless, watching the devastated Anne cradle the body. “Kitty, I’m so sorry,” she cried into her cousin’s limp shoulder. “It shouldn’t have been you.”
A cold anger rushed over Cathy’s body. “What do you mean Kitty?”
Anne looked up, her eyes red rimmed. “I didn’t think the body would be my cousin! How did she even end up here?”
“Kitty’s fine,” Cathy hissed, stalking over to Anne. “Digging must’ve made your brain delusional. Your cousin is safe at home. You’re holding Catalina, and maybe you should show some concern for her.”
Making a sound of confusion, Anne looked at the body in her arms, blinking a couple times. “No, it’s Kitty. Cathy, why are you being so insensitive? My cousin is dead -”
“My godmother is dead!” Cathy screamed, pointing at the body, “And you can’t even see that? Wake up Anne, I didn’t pin you as crazy.”
Slowly setting the body down, Anne stood up, her eyes narrowing. “I’m not crazy, Parr. You’re the one who wanted to back out. Maybe this is all your fault.”
Rolling her eyes, Cathy spat, “How would this be my fault?”
“I don’t know,” Anne cautiously eyed her ‘friend’, “But I’m going to find out. Maybe you killed Kitty and you’re trying to convince me that I’m crazy so you can blame it on me, huh?”
Scoffing, Cathy clenched her fists. “And why would I do something so outlandish to frame you? I don’t care about Kat! Catherine, my godmother Catherine is dead and I think that takes top priority.”
“You’re such a stuck-up bitch Parr,” Anne snarled.
“At least I’m not a whore,” Cathy shot back. There was a moment of silence between the queens as they stared at each other, completely ignoring the body below them. And then all hell broke loose as Cathy hurled herself at Anne. She tackled the girl to the ground, pinning her wrist down. “You never care about anyone but yourself!” she accused, clawing at Anne’s skin.
Flipping them over, Anne sat on top of Cathy and grabbed her shoulders in a tight grip. “At least I don’t get scared when things get hard.” Anne attempted to slam Cathy against the ground, but the writer resisted. She pushed Anne away from her, holding the girl at arms length.
“You’ve never cared about any of us Boleyn,” Cathy screeched, twisting Anne’s wrists as best she could. “You deserved what you got!” The two of them huffed as they struggled to gain control over the other. A red rage had enveloped their minds, telling them to hurt each other. It was the only way they could win. Win what? Neither of the girls asked.
Rolling away from Cathy, Anne grabbed a shovel. She stabbed it into the ground next to Cathy’s head, chopping off a couple hairs. “You only escaped the same fate by lying. How does it feel to be a liar?” Picking up the shovel, Cathy swung it at Anne who jumped away, avoiding being struck.
Throwing the shovel to the side out of both their reaches, Cathy pounced on Anne and started yanking at her hair, knowing how it would hurt the girl. “You’re calling me out on being a liar when you’re the one who played the King for years? You ruined people’s lives and didn’t even care what happened to them!”
Anne kicked at Cathy’s hand, causing the two of them to go stumbling away from each other. “Well you’re the one who married a rapist and let my daughter SUFFER!” She charged at Cathy, rage in her eyes. Something in Cathy snapped when she saw Anne coming at her. As soon as Anne was close enough, Cathy grabbed her by the collar and threw Anne to the ground. There was a loud crack on impact. Eyes going wide, Cathy watched in horror. What had she just done?
A groan of pain came from Anne on the floor. She slowly sat up, rubbing her back. “The hell was that?”
“I - I don’t know,” Cathy stuttered, glancing at her hands. “I would’ve never done that but -”
She was cut off by Anne reaching behind her and picking up the answering machine she had landed on and broken with her weight. The circuitry was visible to the girls now, the wires a mess and the plastic broken apart. “It’s cold,” Anne muttered, shivering as she dropped the machine to the ground. “It’s cold, Cathy.”
Collapsing onto the dirt next to Anne, the final queen ran a hand through her hair. “What was all of that?”
“I have no idea,” Anne replied, bowing her head. “But I… I’m sorry about what I said. And for trying to hurt you.”
Something in Cathy understood exactly what Anne was feeling. “It wasn’t you who said it. It was whatever came over us.” Her eyes subtly drifted to the broken answering machine.
Anne didn’t miss where Cathy’s eyes fell. “You think it was the machine?”
Cathy shrugged, unsure of herself. “It all seems a bit outlandish, doesn’t it? But how else would we have gotten here, why would we say all those things? Why would we have seen two different -” her voice cut off and her eyes expanded. “Catherine and Kat!”
Both her and Anne scrambled to their feet and rushed over to where they had left the body. Anne spotted it first and practically slid across the grass to get next to it. “Cathy!” she called the girl over so she could see what it was.
Instead of the freshly deceased bodies of Aragon and Kat, there was barely a pile of bones sitting next to Anne. There were bandages holding the bones together, but the skeleton seemed fake when put together with its bindings. “It’s not them,” Cathy breathed a sigh of relief.
“They’re both safe,” Anne agreed, setting the bones down.
There were so many questions left to be answered in the queens’ minds, but they knew deep down they would never be answered. Who had all the answers in life? No one really, and certainly not them. “I want to call this magic,” Cathy exhaled as the two of them started to re-bury the body. “But I don’t know what it was.”
“We don’t know a lot of things,” Anne replied, throwing her shovel to the side as she finished covering the dirt mound. “But I do know I’m sorry for the things I did and said when I wasn’t myself.”
“You’re not the only one,” Cathy replied sheepishly. “Look, about Elizabeth and Thomas -”
Anne put her hand up and cut off Cathy. “It’s been a long time Cathy. We’ve had time to move on from that. Please… please don’t bring it up again.”
Swallowing, Cathy nodded. “Alright Anne.” Picking up both discarded shovels, Cathy placed them on top of the mound. “Let’s get out of here.”
“And let’s never buy another antique again,” Anne forced a joke.
Cathy laughed for the sake of making Anne feel better. In reality, both of them could still feel a chill on the back of their necks as they left the mound behind them.
------------------------------------------------
Tag List:
@radcowboyalmondtree
@boleynhowards
@annabanana2401
@babeebobo
@dont-lose-your-queerhead
@everything-insanity
@mindless-pidgeon
@i-wanna-dance-and-sing-six
@thedemidisaster
@its-totes-gods-will
@thatbolxyngirl
@thenameisnoone
@sixqueendom
#six the musical fanfiction#six the musical fanfic#six the musical fic#six fanfiction#six fanfic#sixfic#anne boleyn#catherine parr#we're lost and delirious and can't be found#part two#and that's a wrap folks#magic answering machines#who knows what happened with this#no one knows what day it is anymore#im functioning off of sleep deprivation alone
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Six Sickfic Collab
Here's my part of the collab! Enjoy a sick Jane.
Jane woke up with a sudden. Her head was pumping too loud. She groaned and tried to get up from bed.
As she was sitting up her stomach started to hurt like a thousand bees itching it. She lied again, growling. The pain increased instead of calming down.
Tears formed on the corner of her eyes. Saying that she was scared it's an understatement. She didn't feel like this since that day, since those twelve horrible days where she last saw her son. When she died.
Ignoring a bit her pain she tried to stand up. She looked over the alarm clock. 4:00 am. It wasn't uncommon for her to wake near this hour but now she was wishing to go back to sleep even though she wanted to make breakfast for the fellow Queens.
She stand up. Her legs felt so weak like back the days. She tried to walk over the door, falling on her knees and almost throwing up.
This was horrible. She couldn't let any of the others see her like this. So weak. Not the strong woman they had seen and they told all their problems and nightmares. Her shoulder being a crying pillow for all of them.
She got up and lied again in her bed, sinking immediately into Morpheus' arms.
*********
It was nearly 6 am when Catherine of Aragon woke up. She uses to work at this hour to help Jane finish breakfast. She wasn't surprised about the silence around the house, Jane uses to be quiet to not wake anyone.
Entering the kitchen she frowned. Where's Jane?
Yesterday Jane looked even more tired than usual. Maybe she was still sleeping. Catherine sighed and decided to let her sleep. She grabbed different ingredients and started working on breakfast.
Not too long after she started she heard footsteps coming downstairs. To Catherine's surprise it was Anna and Cathy. Both girls frowned. "Where's Jane?" Cathy asked standing next to her godmother and helping her with breakfast.
"Sleeping." Catherine answered shrugging. "Yesterday, she ended up pretty tired. I thought it would be good for her to sleep."
Cathy nodded but Anna frowned. Even if she was tired the day before she was always awake before anyone.
"Morning!" Kitty shouted entering the kitchen making the other three jumped.
"Kit! Don't scare us like this. And morning." Anna said with a hand over her heart. She truly scared her.
"Sorry..." Kitty looked down but quickly frowned. "Where's Jane?"
"Sleeping. I thought to let her sleep today."
"Oh, Catalina. That's nice of you." Anne said joining all of them, hugging her cousin in her way to sit in the counter.
Catherine rolled her eyes but smiled. "Morning to you too Boleyn."
"I will go see Jane." Kitty said running upstairs before anyone could answer.
********
Jane opened her eyes slowly. The bang in her head still as strong as before. She groaned and tried to sit. She heard a slightly knock on her door. "Come in." She said in a raspy voice.
Kitty's head appeared in the little crack open. She smiled sweetly and get in. "Are you ok?" She sat down next to Jane. "It's already 7:30 am."
Jane's eyes opened widely. "I have to go to make breakfast." Her voice came out raspy. It hurt her throat but she didn't mind it.
Kitty stopped her. "You don't look very well. Stay in bed."
Jane didn't want to argue so she did what she was commanded. Kitty put a hand on her forehead. "You're burning." That came out as a whisper.
Jane groaned for the tenth time. "Can you bring me a glass of water?"
Kitty nodded. "Sure. Here." She put her cuddling plushie, Princess Bling Bling Sparkle Bling Bling. "I'm going to let her take care of you." Kitty smiled widely and went for the glass of water.
Jane smiled softly and hugged the plushie. It was the softest thing ever.
Soon she heard another knock on the door. Her fellow Queens were there.
Anne and Anna brought some apple juice that she loved. Catherine was holding a track of cookies that she made for breakfast. Cathy was holding some medicine. Kitty brought the glass of water as promised.
"Hey Jane, how are you feeling?" Catherine asked softly putting down the track on her night table.
"Better that you are here." The bump in her head was saying otherwise though.
Kitty put down the glass of water as Anne put down the bottle juice. "Did Princess Bling Bling Sparkle Bling Bling helped?"
Jane smiled nodding.
"Here." Cathy gave her the meds. "Take this. It may help."
"We will be here if you need us." Anna stated sitting down on the bed.
"We're not leaving. Promised." Anne said sitting in the other side of the bed.
Jane smiled and took the meds, eating a cookie or two and a sip of the juice. She finally ended up sleeping but she wasn't scared anymore. She was happy knowing that she had a family with her. Her loving family.
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