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theblogofdurin · 3 years

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Cloaked in Green- Chp.3: Full Bellies

WORD COUNT:1929 (whoop, look at me)

Edited on 2/22/22

WARNINGS: of hunting, house burning,

A/N:- I appreciate everyone commenting in my last post. It truly helped a lot. And to show my love for you all, I’m gonna do a double chapter posting.

SUMMARY:L.D gets to know the company as best as she can

Official pairing: Thorin Oakenshield x Fem!OC*

READ THE REST HERE - > Chp.2 , Chp. 1

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We traveled on for another day, riding from dawn till dusk. Luckily enough I was able to doze off for a couple hours during the second night. Thorin still has yet to assign me or Bilbo to watch duty, but I kind of figured he wouldn't just yet. It is hard to trust a stranger, a faceless one even more so than that.

Gandalf had pulled me aside early on the 2nd morning,

"Do you ever plan on telling the rest of our company your identity?" He spoke softly even though we were far enough away from the others.

I shook my head. "I do not know." I spoke softly in a small whisper. Gandalf let out a big sigh, " Do you ever get tired of it? Of hiding."

" I am not hiding myself." Tightening Hithui's saddle straps. "I am merely trying to avoid the inevitable."

"No one could possibly blamed you for wh-."

"I know that." I turned harshly towards him, " but it doesn't help the way people stare at me either." I lowered my head glancing at the ground between us.. "Besides, I don't care what they think of that, it has more to do with the fact of me, being a woman, I want to prolong them knowing."

Gandalf sighed again as he made his way over to stand by his horse, who was resting near us. "I do agree with the fact that dwarfs might not handle the knowledge of you, being a woman very well, but it has to do more with the fact that there are not many dwarf women around. They have been taught to be protective of them."

"That's not helpful." I let out a small laugh and Gandalf smiled softly.

"However, they are also taught to respect them.” Mounting his horse, he moved closer, speaking softer. “They are fast learners of change ‘L.D’. I say at least give them a chance to react."

And….He was right. It was unfair of me to judge the dwarfs and Bilbo on the actions of past others. Yet, How can I know that? And how can I be sure that they'll keep my secret? I needed to let myself get to know them, yet I wasn’t sure how I was supposed to do that? It harder because I know my voice would give it all away. So after some thought I decided that the only way was to watch them all more closely and learn more through observation then verbal exchange.

I started this morning by riding in the middle of the line, putting myself in the pathways of various conversations. Listening as they all talked to one another, and taking mental notes of each dwarf and hobbit behaviors.

Starting with Bofur, I realized that he could probably out last Fili and Kili when it comes to talking for great lengths and his hilarities. Something I did not think at all possible. He talked nearly the whole day, stopping to only to take puffs out of his pipe. He told great tales and silly stories to literally anyone who would listen.

‘‘If I’m not back in 5 minutes, she called, just wait a little longer.” Behind us, I heard Bifur ask him something in Khuzdul. “Oh No, Bifur I’m afraid, they are still waiting on her.”

After a bit, I noticed a small squeaking noise, turning around I noticed Bifur holding a mechanical toy.

“Tinkers, and Toy-makers.” Balin’s word’s that night came rushing back to me at that moment as my jaw drop slightly in awe.

Noticing my stare, Bifur smiled proudly as he lifted up his work for me to see. It was a small, metal bird and even with the distance between us, I could make out all the small details of feathers in the wings and beast. He pulled on the string that hung down the middle of the bird’s body making the same small squeak, the wings began moving in a flapping motion. Bifur only left out a deep grunt at the noise and moved the toy back, murmuring to himself in Khuzdul again.

"Don't mind him." Spoke Bofur, who seemed to have watched the small encounter. **" He's just a bit of a perfectionist when it comes to his work. Now where was I- Oh Yes! Now that it's been 3 years since she left-.”

As the day continued I found myself stuck in another conversation. Oin and Gloin have probably been talking the entire day too but just mainly to each other so I hadn’t noticed till now.

As I listened in I realized their conversation was on the company’s medical supplies, Oin was concerned that he didn’t pack enough bandages for all the members of the company, having not expected 2 extras to join.

Digging through one of my satchels, I hooked it off Hithui’s saddle bag and I gently ushered her closer to the pair. Once in reaching distance I tapped the older dwarf on the shoulder.

He jumped slightly as he turned sharply in his sandals to look out at me, before he opened his mouth. I held out the small bag to him. Confused, he took it and moved around to take a peek inside.

Gasping softly, he looked back at me “Are you sure?” I nodded and held out my hand towards him and back to my chest in a slight bow.

“No no, Thank you L.D” Oin smiled softly before turning to his confused brother. He pulled out one of the many bandages that I had stored anyway over the years of my travels and smiled broadly.

“This should give us plenty.” Gloin’s eyes widened before looking back at me again, they then softened slightly before he began to crack a smile

“Aye, I guess we have to keep you around now.”

When Thorin finally called it for the night, I took a moment while everyone was setting up camp to check around for any wild game. Grabbing my bow and quiver, I made my way through the thick brush surrounding the brush. Turns out there is plenty of game around, and luckily enough I was able to snag a deer and a couple of rabbits.

I stringged up the rabbits through a rope and shrugged the deer over my shoulders and then started the trek back up towards the group.

When I finally made it back up towards the clearing, Ori noticed me immediately and brought me to the attention of the other’s.

“Mahal's Beam!” he jumped up from his spot “Look at all of that!” All eyes fell upon me as I lowered my head again to make sure my face was still hidden.

“By My Beard” gasped Dwalin as he moved to help carry the rabbits, grabbing them from my hand. “Where did ya get all of that?”

I stepped around him to bring the deer to the middle of the camp. I jokingly pointed over my shoulder at the opening into treeline where I came from. Causing laughter to spread through the group.

Bombur looked up at me even more shocked than Dwalin, once I made my way over to him. He then bends down to examine the deer, fingering the hole on the deer’s side.

"Well will you look at that! Now that's a deer." he spoke in a low baritone voice.

"Aye laddie that deer must weigh at least 2 of you!" cheered Bofur. The buck was one of the bigger ones I saw in the herd, a 5 point and from the ache in my back I have to say it was at least 67kgs. To express this I placed a hand down on his shoulder before holding my back with the other.

Now everyone tought that was hilarious, I even caught Bilbo chuckling to himself in the corner next to Gandalf. dipped my head in a shy attempt of brushing off their attention before I went to pull out my dagger to start skinning process for the rabbits.

"Oh, no, no! You have done more than enough for us, we can manage that at the very least." The older dwarf said assuredly while patting the smooth belly of the deer again.

I smiled before I dipped my head again in thanks, before heading back over to I laid some of my stuff out before I left, just on the edge of the camp, I was just close enough and just far enough away from all the others.

And while I watched them all go back to their destinated spots, I realized for the first time since leaving for the Shire, I started to feel relaxed.

Off to the side I heard Gandalf speak proudly to the others. "See! I told you there was more to our dear, L.D than meets the eye" I just happened to look over in time to meet his gaze. Winking at me, I could let out a small smile and shake my head at him.

At dinner, I was shot with even more thank you’s, and compliments. It was nice having them all thank me for such an easy thing. I have hunted plenty for myself and others and none of them have shown me such gratitude before.

"You did good, Cloak"

I was so deep in my thoughts and the food, that I didn't even realize who spoke till I saw the small smiles and side eyes from the others. Thorin was standing next to Bombur as the dwarf filled his bowl. He nodded back at me when I looked at him. Giving him a quick nod of acknowledgement, I had to look away.

The next morning, everyone was in a far more cheery mood with all their bellies still full from the night before, and for the rest that got divided up for breakfast. I was surprised that none of them have fallen into a food enhanced deep sleep yet.

Today, I seemed to have been granted the opportunity to ride up closer to the front next to Balin. The old dwarf was clearly a kind one, as he offered up nothing more than caring words and simple small talk as we traveled along. Seeing as I could only nod and shake my head in response he never seemed upset by the silence. Dwalin, who rode out in front of us, even joined in ever so often into our limited conversation.

Even the cheery mood seemed to have reached Thorin, for smiled over his shoulder as he called for an early camp. As I dismounted Hithui, handing her off to a smiling Ori, I noticed a small burned down farmhouse that stood up on the hill. Gandalf noticed to and gestured for me to follow, I followed behind as he entered what seemed to be the doorway.

"A farmer and his family lived here." he whispered softly, I went to move my hand across one of the sooty planks of woods, it was still slightly warm to the touch.

"This place was only burned down yesterday," I whispered to Gandalf, as I showed him the ash on my fingers.

The old wizard turned to the company, who was busy setting up camp. "I think it best if we keep moving. The Hidden Valley is near-" he was quickly cut off by Thorin.

"I refuse to set foot in there," he growled .Frankly I didn’t want to go to Rivendell either but it was a good idea. I was shocked by how quick his reply was to Gandalf’s request.

Gandalf glared back . "I did not give you that map and key to-"

"I did not know they were yours to keep," Thorin snapped, glaring back at the wizard and that was the end of the discussion.

Gandalf huffed angrily to himself and he turned to head back back the path towards his horse. Bilbo looked up as he passed. "What's wrong? Gandalf? Where are you going?"

"To be alone with the only person who has sense in this company." he barked back angrily, Bilbo seeming shocked by Gandalf's harsh tone involuntarily took 2 steps back.

"Who?” the hobbit squeaked

"Myself, Mr. Baggins." With that I watched as my old friend and the only one who knew who I was ride away.

"Gloin, get a fire going," Thorin commanded, still very clearly irritated. I turned to face hi., just in time to see him turn to me. I threw my hands up in mock-surrendhim. I didn't want to be involved and moved to walk back down the hill towards the others. I heard him take a deep breath before he spoke.

“I didn’t mean to run him off.” Turning back to him, I nodded my head in an understanding, his shoulders shagged. Continuing back down the hill I moved to take my spot at the edge of the camp circle. Untucking my bedroll, I went ahead and laid down, looking up toward the sky just as the golden hour began to hit.

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Tag list requests still open!!: @sweetfaytanner @caelum-the-part-time-nihilist @emrfangirl @hr-nm-grnd-zr @markosgirl @demigoddesofchimichangagod @imaginesfire @kaysteahouse

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smilindesperado · 3 years

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New chapter of (My Heart) Still Beats for You is (finally) up!

Aang has some news for Sokka, and Sokka finds himself wanting to spend more time with Suki.

Another update on the shorter side, but we’re moving the story along.

Originally, I had only planned on telling this story from Mai’s POV, but as I started fleshing it out more, I realized that there were some things that I wanted from Sokka’s POV. Eventually I made the decision to dedicate an equal amount of chapters to each character. BUT because of that, in editing Sokka’s chapters end up having a lot more changes to them, whereas the edits to Mai’s chapters are mostly just tightening up her story and cleaning up some prose.

There are some changes to Sokka’s story that were made during edits, including the flashback from chapter 4 (a last minute addition) and changing the flashback in this chapter. Originally, I had Sokka and Yue’s first meeting here, but as I was editing it felt like it was just padding for the chapter instead of actually moving it along. So, ultimately, I took it out and stole a flashback from Chapter 10 because it fit much better here (and I have some different plans for chapter 10, now).

Even still...I really liked some parts of the flashback that I ended up removing, so I’m going to post it here for anyone that’s interested! And if you see me reuse some of the ideas from this excerpt, no you didn’t.

(Also, apart from a quick skim of the text before, I didn’t do much editing on it, so apologies for any typos/awkward grammar.)

“Are you alright?”

Yue’s pretty blue eyes glossed over with worry as she held an ice-stuffed bar rag against Sokka’s shoulder.

“Oh yeah, I’m great,” Sokka replied, punctuated with an eye roll. Yue bit her lip and looked to the side, guilty, and he quickly backtracked. “Yeah...I’m alright. Don’t worry about me.”

The night had decidedly not been going Sokka’s way. He found himself at some schmoozy dinner club uptown for a university alumni event. He usually avoided those kinds of things, but he didn’t really have anything else to do. He had just moved into his new spot, away from old friends, so his Friday night plans usually involved his roommate Aang and/or his sister. Recently, however, that had turned into Sokka hanging out with Aang and Katara, and he felt like it was time for a change of scenery.

So, in an effort to switch up his nights and not get stuck spending another evening as third wheel to his sister and best friend, he decided to give one of these stupid alumni events a go.

And it was stupid. The bar was a little stuffy for his tastes, filled with suits and kids on trust funds if the price of drinks was anything to go by. He recognized a couple of people from his engineering program, but no one he really shared many interests with besides engineering itself.

But the music at the bar was another story.

That was where he met Yue. She was like something out of a dream, really. Or like a movie; a silver screen moment where the lights dimmed and the spotlight illuminated her, erasing the crowd as if the whole universe began and ended with Yue. She tapped her foot along to the beat while a guitarist strummed along in her shadow, singing a lovely melody about the moon and stars to her audience of one.

Sokka never returned to the reserved area for his party, because he had the perfect view at the bar.

Well, it was the perfect view. Until some douchebag saddled up next to him and started hitting on the bartender. The woman was clearly uncomfortable and the guy just couldn’t take a hint. Even worse, once the bartender quickly extracted herself from the conversation, the guy had found another poor girl to harass. This one was unfortunately more comfortable with the situation and Sokka ended up hearing their whole gross flirtations while they exchanged numbers.

But still, it had been worth enduring all of that to catch the last of the siren’s songs.

Sokka cashed out once Yue’s set ended and scanned the room hoping to spot her. He thought she should at least know how incredible she was-er...sounded.

He caught her eye and she began floating towards him, smiling wide. Sokka wondered if he actually hadn’t imagined that she was singing directly to him before the illusion was shattered when she locked her eyes onto someone behind him instead.

Needless to say, when Yue swept up to the guy who had been flirting with everything in sight just a few minutes ago, Sokka boiled over. Perhaps it had been the drinks, or maybe he was just so offended on her behalf, but the accusations spilled out of his mouth before his mind could catch up.

“Wait. You’re with him?”

The guy glared at Sokka, sweeping his hair out of his eyes before slinging an arm around Yue. “Yeah, what of it?”

Sokka knew he should have kept his big mouth shut, because really, it was none of his business. He knew nothing about the woman, but the liquid courage gave him the boost he needed to defend her honor.

After calling him out on his behavior and hurling a few insults at one another, the incident quickly devolved and the guy shoved Sokka, his back hitting the ledge of the bar roughly, which spurred Sokka to tackle him to the ground. Security wrestled them apart and threw the guy and his friends out. The reassurance from the bartender that the other guy instigated the whole thing allowed Sokka to stay behind and make sure Yue was okay.

Or more accurately, allowed Yue to make sure Sokka was okay. Though he wished he could have caught her attention with a different method, Sokka couldn’t help but feel a little thrilled to find himself with an excuse to spend time with this otherworldly beauty.

“I’m sorry about Hahn.” Yue kept her gaze down at the ground, her voice sounding so small. Sokka thought how unfair it was that she was the one feeling guilty in this mess.

“Oh, that guy? He barely touched me. The guy’s probably never been in a fight in his life.”

“Oh?” She looked back up at Sokka again, and he tried his best to not get lost in her eyes. “Do you get into a lot of fights?”

Sokka rolled his neck, feigning a coolness he definitely wasn’t feeling. “Psh, people don’t usually try to get into fights with me.”

Yue got up from her spot to reach for the bag behind her and Sokka realized how that may have sounded. She just (hopefully) dumped her short-tempered boyfriend and probably wasn’t looking for another one.

“I mean, not that I look for fights or anything,” he added quickly. “I’m a lover, not a fighter, you know?”

Was that a weird thing to say?

But Yue giggled and a faint blush rose to her cheeks, and Sokka knew he would do anything to pull that reaction out of her again.

“Well, thank you, Sokka.” Yue slung her purse over her shoulder and gave Sokka a small, pretty smile.

“Uh, what are you up to now? Do you wanna get out of here?” Sokka asked, causing Yue to still, looking him over. His eyes grew wide when he realized how that may have sounded. “Not, like in a creepy way,” he rectified quickly. “I mean, like maybe we could go for a walk and grab some food or...do an activity?”

She raised a delicate eyebrow curiously and her lips pressed together in an attempt to hold back her laughter. “Do an activity?”

“Uh…” Sokka rubbed at the back of his neck before squeaking out a hesitant “...yes?” in confirmation.

A lovely smile graced her lips, and Sokka couldn’t believe his luck. “Okay.”

Maybe Aang and Katara’s oogies would be a little more tolerable if he had a love of his own.

#atla fanfiction #sokka fanfic #mai atla #sukka fanfiction #maiko fanfiction #fic excerpt #fanfiction #smilindesperado fic #atla modern au

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dragonfiremage · 4 years

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Destiny - Chapter Two

Author’s Note: First off, thank you so much for the wonderful likes, reblogs, and interest in this story. I honestly didn’t think much of it when I wrote this and published it on Tumblr. This was just in head bothering me and I needed to write it down. So I’m glad some of you are enjoying it!

Some of you have asked to be in a taglist, and to be honest, I really don’t know how to make one? LOL I stopped using Tumblr like five years ago and this is kinda new to me again so if you’re interested in a taglist and can message me on how to create one, please do so!

Again, please let me know what you think. I tried editing this as best as I could so if you see anything off, please let me know :)

Enjoy! <3 <3

[Previous - Chapter One]

[Next - Chapter Three]

Chapter Preview:

Sneering, you whisper lowly, "Don't you dare use your fire on me."

Zuko eyes were fixed on the horizon, his hold on the ostrich horse's reins tighten slightly as he could feel his Uncle start to lean toward one side, a tell-tale sign that he was starting to drift asleep.They've been traveling all day, making their way towards the Misty Palms Oasis, but the sudden attack from the Rough Rhinos had set them back a couple of hours.

As the continued on their trek, Zuko started to wonder why they were going to the Misty Palms Oasis in the first place, but his Uncle had insisted. When pressing him further, all he got was some meaningless metaphor, that he was pretty sure that his Uncle made up on the spot, and some tea advice.

The skies were starting to darken, the temperature cooling down significantly as well. Zuko looked above him at the vast expanse of the sky, the stars starting to twinkle even more.

Zuko grunts in reply, nodding his head towards a village ahead before urgijg the ostrich horse to pick up some speed. “No - I think we still have a day and half’s worth of journey by the looks of it. We need to set up camp and get some more food.”

Scanning the horizon once again, Zuko's gaze lands on some twinkling lights from a nearby village and he nudges his Uncle awake. Iroh jerks suddenly and clears his throat as if to cover the fact he was snoring just a second ago.

“Are we at the Misty Palms already?” Iroh asks.

Iroh perked up at the idea of food. “Food sounds delicious right now. I could really go for some tea right now too. And music!"

Zuko grumbled, Ugh, what now? I just want some peace and quiet. Why is it never JUST peace and quiet...

Zuko nodded in agreement. They’ve been traveling all day under the hot sun and some needed refreshments to cool off sounded nice. The thought of an actual bed and some real food had him urging the ostrich horse to go faster. He was tired of scavenging desert critters for food. As they got closer to the village, both Zuko and Iroh were surprised to see a crowd of people entering the village. The sound of music and cheers also started to become louder.

They tie up their ostrich horse at nearby barn where they paid for extra feed for the poor ostrich horse. As soon as the animal was in the barn, it collapsed out of exhaustion and Zuko was glad that he could at least give the poor beast some rest. He hesitated...Did he just get sentimental over an ostrich horse?

“Come on, Zuko. There seems to be an event going on in the village. From what I smell, there seems to be lots of tasty food as well.” Iroh wore a warm smile on his face as he rubbed his round belly in hunger. Zuko’s own stomach grumbled as if on cue, and he placed a hand over it. He looks at his uncle with a sharp nod.

“Ok, uncle. But we should also find a place to stay for the night.”

A group of kids ran past him, making him stumble towards a vendor who was selling hats. “Hey watch it! You’re going to flatten my them!”

Iroh nods and turns to the village entrance where Zuko could see kids and other villagers happily run around. As they walk through the market, the sights of roasted pig chickens, roasted ducks, and much to Zuko’s disgust, roasted scorpions and beetles were also everywhere. He looked warily at the roasted critters and shivered in disgust. His Uncle, however, was happily munching away on anything he could put his hands on. The music was lively and it made Zuko almost miss home - the festivals that he used to go to, the markets that he and his Mom would visit…

“Sorry..”

The vendor glares at Zuko and shakes his head, pointing at the kids that had just ran past, “The event must be starting soon.”

The vendor’s glare deepened, if that was possible. He waved a hat at their faces, “You guys foreigners or somethin’? This event is FAMOUS around these parts. Fighters from neighboring villagers train all year for this. On the second Tuesday of every month during this time of the year, these fighters go head to head at a chance to win the winning pot. Only catch is…no bending! It makes it more of even playing field, if you will. It's what we call entertainment around here. Tonight is the preliminaries so there should be lots of entertainment!”

Zuko raises a curious brow. That definitely piqued his Uncle's interest. “Event?”

Zuko nods and thanks the vendor. Iroh looks at Zuko with excitement, his hands up in a fighting stance. “We should watch a couple of matches while we’re here, nephew. Participating in other cultures opens your mind to new opportunities and learnings!”

Zuko couldn’t help but chuckle. "Let's go and watch then. But only a couple!... since we need to find a place tonight if we want to leave early tomorrow."

Iroh nods in response, a gleeful expression on his face as he points at a crowd going to a large tent just outside of the market.

Zuko would never admit it to his Uncle, but he was actually excited. It would be good to watch some entertainment. It would be a nice change of pace - traveling all day and all night, seeing nothing but sky and sand was becoming mundane. There had been already countless nights where he would just stare up at the night sky and watch the stars for entertainment. Watching sweaty people beat up each other sounded entertaining.

The first few matches were boring, much to Zuko’s disappointment. It was either a quick match where one of the fighters would just overpower the other in strength or size, or it would drag on until the one of them collapsed in exhaustion. He thought about how easily he could defeat these any of these fighters with swing of fire bending, but then remembered that it wasn’t allowed. He grunted and crossed his arms, he thought this was going to be more exciting but all he was doing was sitting with a bunch of sweaty men who had been working under the hot sun all day.

“Let’s go.”

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

The lights dimmed and the crowded began to murmur in excitement. Zuko looks around, curious at the added drama effects.

“Alright folks! This should be a good one. Introducing…your last year’s champion - the Blue Dragon!”

The lights dimmed and the crowded began to murmur in excitement. Zuko looks around, curious at the added drama effects.

From one end of the ring, a figure appeared and walked up to the stage, a blue dragon mask covering the fighter’s face. When the figure came into view, the crowd went wild. There were hoots and whistles all around the crowd, while others clapped.

“And the formidable opponent - the Striking Scorpion!”

The crowd becomes even wilder. Zuko sees more commotion at the front and notices people doubling their bets with coins. A crowd of women at the front all swooned and fanned themselves as the Striking Scorpio flexed his arms to them, his white shirt straining against the muscles. Zuko rolls his eyes and looks over at the other fighter again, who was a lot calmer and stiller than the opponent.

“I guess he’s the fan favorite?” Iroh whispers to Zuko who just nods in agreement. Zuko became more intrigued, this was the first fighter who wore a mask on stage and he wondered why. He strained his neck to get a good look at the him, but was completely blocked when the announcer brought out the next fighter which brought more people to their feet.

“Wait…she’s the reining champion!? How in the hog monkeys is she going to win? The Striking Scorpion’s biceps is twice as big as her head! She has no chance.” The men in front of him shook their heads while they expressed their disbelief, continuing to dismiss the Blue Dragon.

Zuko’s eyes snapped back to look at the fighter. Wait...She?! How did he miss that?

Under the twinkling lets of the tent, he could faintly see her but he could definitely tell that the Blue Dragon was girl. Zuko pursed his lips. Even though she was the champion, she was a lot smaller than the Scorpion. Though if Zuko knew anything, it was to never underestimate your opponent. After all, he did get beat by the young Avatar.

Suddenly, he was very interested in watching this match, his back stiffer as he sat back down. He looked over at Iroh who appeared to be swooning a lady to his right who was laughing and nodding at everything he was saying. His uncle can be such a ladies man.

Zuko shook his head in exasperation and took a bite from his roasted pig chicken skewer, his gaze going back to the stage as the two fighters took their position as they stood on opposite sides of the ring.

The two fighters faced each other, the Blue Dragon bowing in respect before going into a fighting stance. Immediately, Zuko takes note of the her stance. It was very similar to stance for fire-bending. The squared shoulders, strong footing. Zuko’s eyes narrow even more as he wonders if this fighter was a fire-bender.

Interesting.

The bell goes off and the Scorpion wastes no time by leaping high into the air with his arm drawn back, using his weight and gravity to land a hard hitting punch down to the ground where the Blue Dragon stood. Immediately, the fighters were surrounded by smoke and debris, not clear to the crowd if the Scorpion had indeed landed his punch.

"Told ya the Blue Dragon didn't stand a chance!” The men in front of Zuko chortled with amusement as his friend smacks his own forehead in defeat.

"Yay the Scorpion!!” Suddenly someone in the crowd yelled in victory and then the crowd erupted with cheers. It soon faded, however, when the dust settled, and crowd gasps in disbelief when they realize there was nothing there. Zuko’s brows raise in question. The Blue Dragon wasn’t there! Not even a body laid on the ground, unconscious.

The Scorpion ignores it and continues to shake his hands together in victory before flexing for the crowd of women at the front who all swooned. The crowd became surprisingly quiet, murmuring to each other about the Blue Dragon’s short demise.

The crowd gasps again and points towards the corner edge of the ring. She had managed to avoid the punch altogether and was now just sitting on the ring's outer railing as if she had been there the whole time.

"You're slow for someone who's supposed to be striking."

Zuko choked on his piece of roasted pig chicken meat. How did she escape that?

“What in the hogmonkeys?!" The scorpion screeches. "Nobody avoids the Striking Scorpion!” The opponent ran towards the Blue Dragon as she took her stance again and when Striking Scorpion lunged forward, this time the Blue Dragon didn’t avoid it but remained rooted in her spot. When he got near, she shifted her foot to the left and she evaded his right hook. She dropped low and delivered an uppercut to the scorpion's ribcage.

It must have been some punch because now the scorpion was stumbling back and heaving, as if out of breath. He snarled at her, frustrated, and lunged at her again, his arm extending to deliver a punch. She ducked under his arm, grabbing it before spinning to get behind him and pinning his arm to his back. She used her momentum and her weight to let fall forward, bringing the Scorpion down as he lands face first onto the ground with one hand pinned behind him.

The Scorpion groaned and yelped, trying to strike at her while pinned. He swung his free arm around, trying to grab at her and she was straining to hold him back properly. He managed to grab her arm and tugged, throwing her off a balance and making her roll forward.

The Blue Dragon took an offensive and lunged forward. Before the Scorpion could even stand on both feet, an uppercut to his jaw sent him stumbling backwards and the crowd cheers.

The Scorpion growls, fuming at her. With renewed strength, he ran forward again, but this time, he seemed more tactical now that he realized that his opponent was playing smart. The Scorpion threw a right hook like last time, and just as he expected, the Blue Dragon shifted her weight so as to shuffle to the left, but the Scorpion quickly readjusted and swings his arm for a right hook.

The Scorpion snarls at her. “You! No one gets to push me to ground."

The crowd gasps as his fist lands across the cheek and she stumbled backwards, fall to one knee. The impact caused a crack on her mask and the Scorpion grins toothily.

She barely had time to roll from her kneeling position to move before he was lunging at her again. She rolled to the side, evading a kick and flipping back to avoid another kick. It was like for few seconds - the Scorpion would continue to deliver blow after blow while the Blue Dragon continued to evade it. Zuko could feel the end of the match coming. One wrong footing, one miscalculation, and she could be off the ring.

"Let's take a look at behind the mask!"

Before she could flip out of the way again however, the Scorpion managed to grab hold of her foot and pulled hard. She stumbled forward right into another hook. Zuko grimaced when he heard the contact, but gasped when the crack on the mask deepened until it cracked all the way and split. The pieces falling to the ground with a clack.

Zuko's eyes travels from the blue mask on the ground and then upwards, finally getting a look at the Blue Dragon’s face. And when he did, his eyes widens. A pair of amber eyes, just like his, gleamed under the lights of the tent. Those eyes…they were so familiar. He shook from his stupor. That was stupid. Just because she has eyes like his doesn't mean she was from fire nation or that he knew her.

The crowd goes silent.

But it was the slight curl of your lips and the small dimple on the right cheek that had him go rigid next to Iroh. An image of a young servant girl grinning over a fruit pastry covered in flour flashes behind his eyes and he blinks back.

His Uncle must felt his change because Iroh whispers, “Is everything ok?"

Zuko shakes his head. It couldn't be. "She look familiar to you Uncle?"

Iroh's gaze move from him to the now unmasked fighter. He strokes his beard, deep in thought. "Hmmm…she looks like a regular fighter to me!" Iroh laughs after some thought, but paused. "Though, her stance and movement is very similar to a fire bender. That might just be a coincidence, no?"

Zuko's eyes narrows, he could tell Iroh knew something by the slight twinkle in his uncle’s eyes before dismissing it as a trick of light and returns his gaze back to the fighter. The prince couldn’t shake off this feeling though, like he knew her. It didn’t add up though, why would you be in the Earth Kingdom? The last time he heard of you, you were sent off to another palace to serve a high ranking general. He crossed his arms, deep in thought.

He sees your grit your teeth, snarling at the Scorpion who was laughing and lapping up all the cheers from the crowd.

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

No, no, no, noooo! My mask...

The Scorpion was starting to make you mad. That mask took weeks to put together! "That was my favorite mask, you bozo! And now, you're going to pay."

You run towards the Scorpion, and at the last second, you duck and spin to the right to avoid his jab and you deliver a blow right under his left ribcage, mirroring the one you delivered earlier.

The Scorpion huffs and gasps for air. He barely had time to avoid a kick before he scrambled away from your quick advances.

Your opponent took a misstep as he stumbled backwards, giving you the opportunity to shuffle to your right and swing your arm for a right hook. You manage to connect your fist to his jaw as falls backwards at the impact, falling to the floor with a groan. Smirking at your small victory, and as you scan the crowd, your eyes connect to pair of amber eyes like your own, his left eye surrounded by a scar. His eyes seem to shine under the lights and it roots you to your spot. The noise of the crowd disappears and it feels like your breath is stuck in your throat.

It was him.

No one else has amber eyes that fierce with a scar like that. You knew of only one person who fit that description.

Zuko.

You couldn’t rip your eyes away from his, the sound of the crowd fading as you stood frozen on the ring as you stared at each other. Zuko had grown a lot from the young boy you used to know. His looks had matured and the scowl in his face was enough to tell you that things have definitely changed. But you couldn’t see passed the boy prince you used to know...the innocence in his eyes, the carefree way he would laugh. But this wasn’t him. He was different.

The Scorpion uses your hesitance to lunge forward again, swinging for a right hook. It catches you off guard and you react too late. You could see Zuko’s eyes widen right before you saw stars. The hit makes you stumble backwards, the sound of the crowd coming back as as you taste the familiar copper tang coating your mouth.

No more distractions.

Wiping the blood that dribbled down your chin with the back of your hand, you narrowed your eyes at the Scorpion who was grinning smugly.

You both lunge at each other at the same time, and at the last second, you notice that his cloth belt had become loose sometime during the fine. A smirk tugged at your lips and with a shuffle to the left and a duck to miss a swing, you did a quick maneuver with his belt and you were able to pull it free from its loops. You grabbed his wrists and spun to move behind him, tying his wrists together and pushing him forward towards the edge of the ring, letting gravity do the rest of the work.

Without the Scorpion’s belt holding up his pants, it dropped to his ankles, and with his momentum pulling him forward, he steps on his on one of his loose pant leg and trips. Unable to steady himself without the aid of his hands, the Scorpion tumbles straight over the ring’s edge and falls over, disqualified.

You smirk as the crowd erupts in laughter and cheers, some coins being thrown your way. You pick up your broken mask on the way down the steps, but not before catching his eyes again.

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

It had to be you. When their eyes met briefly, it was as if Zuko was transported back to when he first met you - in the kitchens with you covered in flour. You still had that annoying sideways grin that you had when you were both younger, framed by the small dimple on your right cheek.

And now, Zuko was unable to tear his eyes away from you. He reels back at the stark contrast between that eight year old servant girl that he used to know and the girl he sees in the arena. Here you were now, standing your ground against a man twice as big as you.

He knew that you knew that it was him. The stare down made it obvious…otherwise, you wouldn’t have hesitated like that and moved out of the way before getting punched in the face. He actually felt bad for that.

But the way you quickly out-maneuvered the Scorpion, using nothing but a cloth belt and momentum to win the fight made him oddly proud, the feeling swelling in his chest. You were a fighter, that much he could tell.

But question started racing through his mind.

Why were you here? Why were you fighting? Did you leave the Fire Nation on your own? What happened to your family?

“You look deep in thought, nephew.”

Iroh’s low voice cut through Zuko’s brooding. Zuko sighed before replying, “I…I can’t be sure, but I think that fighter - the Blue Dragon - I think I know her. Her mother used to be my mother’s right hand maid so I would see her at the palace from time to time. But..I don’t know. I haven’t seen her since I was eight...”

He looked over at his uncle who watched as you leave the arena. “I remember your friend. I remember meeting a sweet little servant girl before I left for Ba Sing Se. She invited us for her tea party, if I remember correctly. Why don’t we stop by after and say hello?"

Zuko looks over at the arena again, just as you leave the main stage and enter a separate tent that he assumed to house all the fighters. The rest of the night was dull compared to your fight, and especially since Zuko couldn’t sit still. His thought kept going over his childhood memories, straining to remember anything he might have missed that would indicate why you were here.

Did you defect and become an enemy of the Fire Nation? Or did you just abandon your home to live here?

Or maybe you just...vacationing here…? Zuko shook his head, that would just be ridiculous.

Whatever it was, he was going to find out.

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

Tonight’s matches were finally over and you sigh with relief at the the thought of finally going home and getting some rest. Your stomach grumbles loudly and you silently hope to the Spirits that a few vendors were still open. Some meat skewers sounded amazing right now.

As you start to unravel your wraps, you glance up just as the Scorpion enters the tent and make eye contact with you before glaring and grumbling as he walk away, embarrassed at being bested by a belt.

As you unravel the cloth, you could already start to feel the soreness already and you already started seeing the bruises blooming over parts of your wrists and all over your knuckles. A nice warm bath would do wonders right -

"(Yn)!"

Just as you were finishing unraveling the last bit of cloth, you hear your name, your real name, and you stiffen. Feigning deafness you continue to haphazardly unravel the cloth, your gaze to the floor. If you don’t see him, he doesn’t see you, you amusedly thought.

A shadow looms behind you and, with a defeated sigh, you turn with an irritated tick on your brow. It took all your willpower not to squeal when you realize how much closer Zuko actually was to you. His stare was intense, holding so much heat that your couldn't help but turn away.

You shrugs nonchalantly and turning back to your wraps as you removed the rest before proceeding to stuff it down your small bag. “I think you got the wrong person. My name isn’t (YN).”

“What’s your name then?” Zuko asks, quickly losing his patience. He felt anger bubbling inside him, getting hotter and hotter as each second passed. He knew you were lying.

Zuko releases a low growl, now even more impatient and angry. His eyes narrowing dangerously as he start to feel the familiar heat in his palm igniting slightly. "Answer my question!"

You pack the rest of your stuff away in a small bag before swinging it over your shoulders. You reply curtly, "I will if you ask me nicely."

A defeated sigh came that didn’t come from Zuko catches your attention as you turn and look past the fuming Prince to see a familiar face. Your glare morphs into a puzzled look before a smile breaking across your face.

"Iroh?"

Zuko turns to his uncle, confused. He forgot you knew his uncle, it’s been so long. Zuko's eyes flits between you and his Uncle squinted at you before his eyes widen with recognition as a smile tugs at his Uncle’s mouth.

"(Yn)! " You walk pass by Zuko, completely disregarding him and wrap your arms around the former general, who just laughs warmly and pats your back. He moves away to take a better look at you, “It’s been so long. You’ve gotten so big! And, dare I say, more beautiful than I remember?”

You laugh, the carefree sound has Zuko’s chest tightening.

Zuko’s rant was cut short when you lean over and flick his forehead, the impact causing a slight sting that makes Zuko hiss. "Can you stop acting like a brat? I said if you asked nicely I would give you my name. But you don't get to talk to me like that and expect something from me."

But as Iroh and you continued to catch up, Zuko’s anger bubbles over and he lets out a angry huff, crossing his arms across his chest. He was close to hitting his head on the wall out of frustration. “You know, you could just have just that was your name instead of ignoring my question. How dare you ignore -"

“So what brings you guys to the middle of nowhere?” You move towards the tent’s exit, Iroh falling in step to your right as Zuko glared at both of your backs, both of you continuing to ignore him as if he wasn’t there. He could feel the anger stirring inside him and he took several deep breaths to calm down.

Glaring, you look back at Iroh who has an amused smile on his face. His gentle demeanor calms you a little, especially with Zuko’s temper flaring wildly.

Begrudgingly, Zuko followed the two of you out of the tent where you and Iroh were still deep in conversation as you head walk towards the direction of the market. “We are on our way to the Misty Palms Oasis. I think I know someone there who can help us with our journey.”

Zuko immediately quieted, Iroh never mentioned that to him before. Why did he say that now, especially in front of you?

Nodding your head, “That’s at least another day’s worth of journey. I hope you get some good food and ample rest tonight.”

Iroh nudges your arm gently and your attention returns back to him. “Which reminds me… (YN), what are you doing in the middle of nowhere?”

You glance behind you, your eyes meeting Zuko’s briefly and he feels his heart jump slightly and he immediately hates the feeling which only adds to his scowl.

Zuko perks up, noting the slight falter in your steps and the way your back stiffens for a brief second. He narrowed his eyes. Were you hiding something?

Instead of directly answering Iroh, however, you pause mid-step, and turn to face them both. With a strained smile, you offer, “If you guys don’t have a place to stay for the night, my place is just down the street. It’s a bit small, but there should be enough room for all of us. I can make us some food? I’m starving..”

Iroh smiles warmly at you before turning to address Zuko. “I’m sure we don’t mind, right nephew?”

Before Zuko could interject and point out the obvious way you deflected his Uncle’s question, you dug into your small bag, smiling when you find what you were looking for. It’s been so long since you've seen Iroh and the last time you saw him, he taught you how to play his favorite game.

You opened your palm out to Iroh, whose brows rose with surprise. There in the middle of your palm was a small, wooden Lotus tile. “And then perhaps, after dinner, we can play some Pai Sho?”

Iroh laughs, his hand on his belly. "Let's see if you've gotten any better since the last time we played.”

You know Pai Sho? …’Since the last time’ what did that mean?! Was Iroh hiding something from him? Zuko looks back and forth between you and Iroh, confused before throwing his hands up in frustration.

“Hold up. I don’t see you or hear from you for over five years and we're all going to pretend that everything’s ok and that we’re all friends?! Why does it seem like you guys are hiding something from me? Nothing is making sense and both of you are just ignoring me!” Zuko’s eyes flash, his jaw clenching when he saw his uncle look at him with exasperation, eyes pleading him to calm down.

You sharply turn to face Zuko, your eyes narrowing and, immediately, Zuko shrinks back under your gaze. “You need to keep your anger in check. You’re being utterly insufferable right now, and I can’t deal with it. Either calm down or take a walk.”

Behind you, Iroh tries to keep his amusement down. No one had every stood up to Zuko the way you just did. Everyone else was just too afraid to make his nephew more hot angry so they usually just give in to whatever request he has, but you had met him straight on without even flinching. This should get interesting.

Calm down?!

Zuko growled - that was the last straw! He's had enough of being treated this way, his anger finally simmering over. How dare you treat him like that?! You have some nerve to talk down to the prince and for this, you needed to taught a lesson in showing respect. He felt the heat in his body rise as licks of flame started to come alive in his palm.

“Agh! I’ve had enough of you!” Zuko draws his hand outward his hand, his palm open and ready to shoot a ball of fire. But right as he felt the fire ignite from the palm of his hand, you lunge forward and enclose your hand tightly over his. You felt the heat radiate from his palm, his fire mingling with yours as you cover his hand to smother it. Zuko's fire extinguishes almost immediately and instead, a cloud of smoke seeped through your clasped hands.

You moved too fast for him to react and, as Zuko blinks back in surprise, just now realizing how close you were to him. He was close enough able trace to your features more thoroughly with his eyes and feel your warmth radiate off of you. He stares down at you, your amber eyes meeting his with the same fervor.

Sneering, you whisper lowly, "Don't you dare use your fire on me."

Zuko's eyes widen at your icy tone, it was enough make a shiver go down his spine. Gone were the days of the pastry-loving, flour covered girl that he used to imagine you as and instead, the image of you standing defiantly in front of him with enough boldness to go toe-to-toe against him replaced it.

Finally realizing that you had just snuffed out his fire with your own hand, Zuko stutterers in disbelief, “Y-you're a fire bender?!"

You roll your eyes in response, releasing his hand and ignoring the shock feeling in your fingertips as it brushes against his rough palm. You mumble a reply, avoiding his stare. “Yes. I learned that I could fire bend when I was ten."

Picking up your bag from the ground, you brush off some of the excess sand and swung the bag around your shoulders. As you walk pass Iroh, who was smiling innocently as if nothing had just happened, you glance over your shoulder and meet Zuko’s heated gaze. “You coming or what? You can sleep with the desert critters for all I care.”

Iroh’s smile wavers slightly when he sees Zuko’s scowl. Iroh places arms across his stomach and with an incline of his head, he calls his nephew over. “Come on Zuko.”

Zuko releases a breath that he didn’t realize he was holding, a low headache starting to bloom around his temples. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he takes several deep breaths of air and recounts the last few minutes. Your fire bending surprised him, but now he understands that some of your boldness might have come from the fact you were able to learn fire bending. After all, he was taught that anger and passion was the source of energy for fire bending.

As he watches you converse with his uncle with such ease, Zuko realizes he has more questions now than he started with, and they need to be answered.

@cirtruss

#avatar: the last airbender #zuko x reader #prince zuko x reader #atla zuko x reader #destinydragonfiremage

183 notes · View notes

sxfterhearts · 4 years

Text

healed

31. [12:19 pm]

➳ pairing: yugyeom x reader

➳ genre/warnings: slow burn, fluff, slight bad boy!yugyeom, triggers; mentions of past violence, injuries, physical abuse

➳ word count: 2,725 words

➳ summary: 31. “Don’t worry about me,”

➳ author's note: this is it, the final part of this series! i hope it doesn’t let you down 😭😭 i’d love to hear your thoughts on this series, what you liked/didn’t like, and whether you’d like future drabbles in this universe!! (i’m tempted, tbh) that’s all from me, please please enjoy, lovely readers 🥰 (credits to @jinyoungot7 for this wonderful gif that kills me everytime)

wounded // scarred // healed

A deep inhale made you giddy with joy. The familiar, sweet scent of this morning’s light drizzle lingered in the air. Although the weather was a bit too humid for your liking, you gratefully savoured the smell that filled your lungs. For some reason, being outside in the aftermath of a downpour always brought you back to that wooden counter of your parents’ restaurant. You used to watch the rain blanket the outside world from the inside as you soaked and drowned yourself in your daydreams. You were a foolish teenager back then, uncertain of the paths you would take and anxious of the future. Getting your heart broken by the one and only Kim Yugyeom was just the icing on the cake.

It was fair to say that a lot had changed since then. In the span of three years, you graduated high school, moved out of that tiny neighbourhood in Namyangju, rented a small studio apartment in Seoul and became a proud Veterinary Science student of Seoul National University.

Yet, you couldn’t help but to admit that while you had progressed into the next chapter of your life, some things will always remain the same. Like how your best friend, Yeeun, never missed out on an opportunity to lecture you over the phone from the comforts of her Busan home. You lifted the device away from your ears to save them from further damage, just as the leash of the cream Pomeranian in your care, Daisy, tugged you forwards, towards a passing bicycle. You urged the dog away from the edge of the sidewalk with a solid ‘No’, which she thankfully obeyed.

“I can’t believe that you’re not doing anything special the week before uni reopens! I mean, hello, we’re going to be spending the next twelve weeks slaving away at our desks, don’t you want to do something fun?” Yeeun shrieked in disbelief. You could imagine her shaking her head at you with that resigned look on her face, the one that signalled she had already given up trying to change your mind.

“Here, girl.” You whispered as softly as you could, trying to grab Daisy’s attention and guide her back to the adoption centre-cum-café, her temporary home. “This is fun and special, Eun. You of all people should know just how special it is to help out these cute furry little babies!”

“More like furry little rascals.” She muttered under her breath. “Come on, Y/N. I get that you’re really passionate about animals and all but just think about it – you’ll be facing these creatures for the rest of your life. You should really try something new once in a while. You know, go drinking or clubbing like a normal uni student. Besides, didn’t you just visit the centre last month for your birthday?”

She was right. You did make the one-hour trip to the adoption café on the morning of your birthday. Ever since that birthday three years ago, you always made it a point to celebrate by being in the presence of a furry companion. Taking care of another living creature, going on walks with them and picking up after them helped you to take your mind off that painful sixteenth birthday when you found out he was leaving. It became your annual ritual.

You cleared your throat, trying to get rid of the small lump triggered by those memories. “Yeah, yeah I did. I… Did I tell you about the dog that I took care of that day?”

Yeeun took a large bite of her favourite takeaway noodles before letting out a muffled “No, what about it?”

“He was… Well, he was a tiny black Pomeranian puppy, not more than four months old. He was cheerful and energetic, couldn’t wait to go on his walk.” You smiled sadly at the thought.

“Yeah…? And?”

“He reminded me so much of Charcoal. You know, the black puppy from your mum’s shelter? I walked Charcoal with him three years ago.”

“Oh, him.” Yeeun grumbled at the mention of Yugyeom.

You ignored the obvious disapproval in her tone. “Yeah, the thing is I really, really, really liked this puppy, and I was even thinking about adopting him for good. I got everything set up in my place, got the pee mats, the dog food, everything, but I came in this morning and he was gone.”

Yeeun hummed over the phone. “I’m sorry, honey. Maybe you and the puppy just weren’t meant to be.” She said, trying her best to comfort you about the adoption that fell through. “Do you still think of him? Kim Yugyeom?” Yeeun asked gently.

You sighed, catching a brief glimpse of your reflection on the windows of a cold noodle restaurant a few doors down from the adoption centre. To this day, you couldn’t enjoy a bowl of naengmyeon without your mind wandering to the boy. “Not often. Honestly, Eun, every time I think I’ve forgotten him, I’ll see something that reminds me of him and he’ll just creep back into my head.”

“You know what they always say, darling. You never really forget your first love.”

You mulled over her words as you rounded the corner towards the adoption centre, Daisy trotting a few paces in front of you. “I wouldn’t call it love, per se, it’s just-”

“Wait, hold that thought,” She interrupted. “I’m sorry honey, the boyfriend is at the door. Do you mind if we continue this later?”

“Yeah, sure, I need to go too.” You stood at the entrance of the centre, reluctant to go in and part ways with Daisy. The dog came to a rest by your feet, huddling close. “Thanks for calling and reminding me of my poor life choices!” You said, full of sarcasm.

“Hey, that’s my duty as your best friend, don’t mention it.” She chuckled. “Oh, and Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“Remember what I said. Go live a little, okay? You’ve already wasted too much time on Kim Yugyeom.”

“Yeah, I will.” You mumbled, agreeing with her words. “Go enjoy yourself with the boyfriend. Not too much though, and spare me the details. Talk next time!”

The two of you bid each other farewell and ended the call. Miraculously, talking to Yeeun made your chest a little lighter. Amongst countless other things, she had been there for you during Yugyeom’s abrupt departure and the initial stages of denial. She helped you draft, edit, and re-edit the numerous emails you sent to the boy, the only form of communication between you two for the first six months. She hugged you close and let you sulk on her shoulder when the emails suddenly stopped seven months after he left for Incheon. You were beyond grateful to have her as a voice of reason amongst your irrational thoughts; someone to walk with you hand in hand through the storms of life.

You made a mental note to ask your mother to send Yeeun a parcel of her prized kimchi as part of next month’s delivery. The girl never failed to mention how much she missed your parent’s cooking whenever the two of you talked on the phone.

All of a sudden, a high-pitched bark travelled across the street. You instinctively tightened your hold on Daisy’s leash, wary of the arrival of another canine. Cautiously, you watched as a four-legged, black ball of fur whizzed past the empty street, arriving before you and Daisy in a matter of seconds. As the dog grew closer and closer, recognition flashed across your mind as you noticed the dog’s distinctive white collar, a stark contrast to his coal black fur. The dog you intended to adopt this morning was wagging his tail and panting by your feet, letting out occasional playful barks at Daisy, his former neighbour. You bent down, arm reaching out to get a feel for his oh-so-soft fur–

“Dal!” A male voice, bright and awfully familiar, exclaimed between heavy breaths. “Dal, slow down, big boy! Daddy can’t…” The voice died down a notch, reducing to a whisper as its owner’s feet entered your line of sight. His entire body shaded your crouched figure from the afternoon sunshine that peeked through the clouds. “Catch up.”

A moment of silence ensued as your eyes panned upwards, scanning a pair of long legs covered in ripped jeans, then a yellow plaid shirt that was haphazardly tucked in, right up to the owner’s face. You couldn’t help the sharp gasp leaving your lips.

Standing before you was none other than Kim Yugyeom himself. His features were more defined than ever, his wavy hair a silvery shade of platinum blonde and his ears adorned with a pair of silver hoop earrings. A single stainless-steel drop earring dangled from his earlobe, its bottom decorated with a half-crescent moon and a star. You stood there and stared at the boy you once knew, now a fine young man, just taking him in. You noticed the lack of cuts and scars on his unblemished, fully healed face. You spotted the beauty mark right under his right eye, standing out against his fair skin. You watched, mesmerised, as his lips twitched to form a slightly sheepish grin, while the tips of his ears burned and glowed into a striking shade of cherry red. Yugyeom’s eyes widened in mild surprise, his gaze lingering on your face for a few stretched out seconds before wandering away, then returning back.

Him… It’s him… He’s here, in Seoul? But I thought he was supposed to be in Incheon, with Mark. What is he doing here? And how did he…? Your never-ending stream of thoughts swirled inside your head at an alarming rate, and you felt the onset of a splitting headache crawl up your temples.

“There you are, Y/N.” Yugyeom said finally, releasing a satisfied sigh and an airy laugh. He didn’t seem nearly half as surprised as you felt under these unlikely circumstances. In fact, you thought that the expression he wore on his face morphed into one of relief instead. “After so long, I finally found you.” He bent down to scoop the black puppy into his arms, leaving you utterly stunned. Before your mind could process the meaning behind his words, however, he suggested, “Let’s talk inside,”, gesturing towards the entrance of the adoption café.

You gave him a meek nod, not daring to let out a sound on the off chance that you would stumble over your words and make a fool out of yourself. With the manners of a gentleman, Yugyeom held the door open for you and waited patiently as you ushered an excited Daisy into the café filled with her furry friends. He took confident, quick strides towards the barista standing behind the counter, much like the first time he had walked into your parents’ restaurant. The way he carried himself, with an air of calm coolness, had not changed at all. You followed closely behind, struggling to keep up with his bigger steps.

“Hello, noona.” He greeted the lady, friendly and warm. “Can I please get an Iced Choco and…?” Yugyeom turned to you expectantly.

“Uh…” You started, soft and uncertain. “A peach iced tea, please.”

“No longer a coffee addict, huh?” He teased, unable to contain his toothy smile. Yugyeom retrieved his wallet from his back pocket and held out his card to pay. It was then that you noticed, quite belatedly, the yellow Rilakuma plaster wrapped tightly around his left index finger.

Your mind began to race. You were unbelievably happy that even after three years, he still stuck to the same brand of bandages, but at the same time, fear and anxiety gnawed and scratched against your chest. All this time, was it still happening? You wondered silently. Surely… “What’s… What’s with your,” You gestured vaguely towards his appendages. “Your finger?” You squeaked.

“Ah,” Yugyeom glanced briefly towards the yellow plaster, paying it little to no mind. “Come, sit down first, okay?”

“No,” You replied with a firm tone that you rarely used. You were a little taken aback yourself. “I’ve spent the past three years worried sick about you. Don’t you at least owe me an explanation about your most recent injury?”

Yugyeom sensed your insistence and determination, knowing that there really was no use trying to convince you otherwise. “It’s nothing to worry about, Y/N, trust me, I’ll show-”

“I’ll be the judge of that. Let me see.”

“Look, it’s just a small cut, okay?” You raised an eyebrow at his description. From memory, his definition of a small cut was miles apart from yours. He took a step closer, hoping to persuade you. “Here,” Yugyeom peeled away the sticky fabric with little difficulty, revealing a thin slit that already closed up. “See? It’s tiny. I was cooking the other day and the knife just sort of slipped and nicked my finger. I told you, don’t worry about me.”

Still, you were unwilling to let him off the hook so easily. “Kim Yugyeom? Cooking? Are you sure that’s safe?”

“Perhaps not the safest…” He admitted with an embarrassed rub of his neck, leading you towards an empty table by the windows. “I just really, really missed your mother’s food. Her naengmyeon especially. I’ve tasted every single naengmyeon in Incheon and Seoul and honestly, nothing comes close. I even tried to cook it myself but, well… You can guess how that turned out.”

“What made you think that your naengmyeon could be better than a restaurant’s?” You questioned jokingly, earning yourself a faked wince of pain from Yugyeom as he clutched the right side of his chest, the wrong side.

After that, it was like the words couldn’t stop flowing out of your mouths. He told you about how he caught a glimpse of your adoption papers during his interview for Dalkyum, the black puppy, and recognised your photo. He confessed that he was initially drawn to Dalkyum due to his sheer resemblance to Charcoal, to which you agreed wholeheartedly. He moved to Seoul late last year to study Fine Arts at the Korea National University of Arts, and you revealed that you were studying to become a vet. He explained how half a year after moving to Incheon, Mark had accidentally downloaded a virus onto their shared laptop while gaming, rendering it broken beyond repair. He didn’t write down your email address and thanks to his goldfish memory, he forgot the entire string of letters once Mark found a replacement.

It seemed like the more you talked to Yugyeom, the more you felt the icy shards of pain and sorrow around your heart melt away. Although, that could probably be because he was looking at you with the brightest of expressions, his mouth permanently fixed into a wide, million-watt smile.

“What do you think? Shall we start over?” You asked after a lull in the conversation, taking a sip of the soothing, saccharine liquid.

“No, I’d rather we pick up where we left off, but with a proper introduction.” He extended his arm for you to shake, which you did with a light scoff and an upturn of your lips. “Hello, my name is Kim, Yu, Gyeom. Kim for gold, Yu, which means to have, and Gyeom, as in humble or modest. It’s nice to meet you again, Y/N. You look beautiful today, as always. Did you know that? I can’t stop myself from being drawn to you, but I guess some things never change.”

“I… What…?” You sputtered hopelessly, reigniting the butterflies in your stomach. “Yugyeom, I’m literally in an old t-shirt and baggy shorts.”

“Doesn’t matter to me, Y/N.”

“There’s another thing that never changed, which unfortunately was also out of my control.”

“Oh no, what else, Kim?”

“I’m sorry to tell you this so late, Y/N, but sadly, you were and are my first love. And you see, the thing about first loves is that no matter how hard you try, you simply can’t-”

“Forget them.”

“Exactly. Trust me, I tried.”

“Yeah, I tried too, so hard. I guess you weren’t meant to be forgotten. Or I guess we weren’t meant to forget each other.”

“First loves stick with you like a scar that can never be fully healed.”

“Wow, look at you, Kim! I’m impressed, you’ve become so poetic.”

“From now on, I’ll only write poems for you.”

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lux-i-fer · 3 years

Text

Believer of Faith and Mortality

Ao3 link

Synopsis: Lucifer and Chloe's victim shouldn't be alive, but the fact that he's currently alive and giving a statement says otherwise. When more and more miracle cases begin popping up, Lucifer believes that their lives aren't being spared out of the goodness of his Father's heart. The knock at the door only proves his theory.

Rating: M

Notes: HAHA HEYYYY! Guess who got the chapter out in under a year?? My most sincere apologies that this fic has been updating so slowly, I am just at that time in my life where everything requires my attention all at once and all the time. Never fear, I have not forgotten about this fic ;) This is unbetaed because in the year of our lord 2021, I have lost all hope in producing properly edited work.

Chapter Number: 6

For a few heavy seconds, the entire world shrank down to fit solely into Lucifer’s palm. The silence was almost suffocating as Amenadiel, Lucifer, and John stared at the silver phlegm dripping from Lucifer’s outstretched hand. Even outside of the harsh California sunlight, it still looked metallic and even glimmered like the chrome finishings on his Corvette. John found it almost blinding to look at directly, but there was a nagging feeling inside of him that demanded that he continue to look. The first time he’d seen it on Lucifer’s handkerchief, he’d only gotten a mere glance before Lucifer had hurriedly tucked it out of sight. Perhaps for him it was also supposed to be out of mind, but not for John. John was transfixed.

Looking at it now, he realized that it wasn’t really silver colored. Even though he never tore his eyes from it, it seemed to shift to a different color at the blink of an eye, changing so fast that it blurred together into one solid gray mass. And he found that it wasn't so much as metallic as it was almost lit by a soft inner light. John leaned forward, curious to see if there truly was something there or if he was imagining it.

A hand caught his shoulder and then the rest of the world seemed to snap back into focus. John blinked and when he opened his eyes, Amenadiel stood between him and Lucifer.

“Did you hear anything I just said to you?” he asked. There was a heavy set of wrinkles above his brow that hadn’t been there at the start of their visit.

John blinked again. He felt a little dazed, and found that he couldn’t quite focus in on the rest of Amenadiel’s face. “No?” His voice came out slow and slurred.

Amenadiel frowned. “Okay, why don’t you--” he walked the both of them backwards out of the kitchen until the backs of John’s legs knocked against the edge of a chair, “sit down.”

John did as he was told and then put his head in his hands. He had a roaring headache.

“So,” he heard Amenadiel say. “As I said before, will someone please tell me what is going on?”

“Apparently zombies,” John muttered, massaging the space between his eyes.

“Well, you’re not actual zombies,” Lucifer corrected. “You’re more...undead than anything. If I didn’t know better I’d say that you lot were resurrected, but our Father does not lower himself to dabble in those sorts of miracles anymore.” Even with his eyes closed, John could practically feel the eye roll in his voice.

“No, I meant how long has this been going on.” John looked up to find Amenadiel gesturing to the silver liquid that Lucifer was trying in vain to mop up with his handkerchief.

Lucifer shook his head. “Not long. Just today. Surely it’s nothing.”

Amenadiel looked to John for confirmation.

John shrugged. “I’ve only been here a day, but I guess it lines up? He coughed some of it up on our way here.”

Amenadiel nodded solemnly, while Lucifer shot him a dirty look, the unspoken accusation of traitor hanging in the air. “It’s not that big a deal,” he sniffed. “Whatever it is, surely it’ll sort itself out. There’s no need to coddle me, Amenadiel, my mortality stint ended ages ago.”

John stilled. “Your what?”

Lucifer waved him off, flicking a few silver droplets in his direction. One managed to hit Amenadiel in the chest and his face crumpled up in disgust. “Luci, do everyone else a favor and wash your hands. For all we know this could be contagious.”

John silently agreed. As if the headache wasn’t already making him nauseous, now he was picturing Lucifer as some sort of supernatural Typhoid Mary. Even though he’d seen some pretty nasty stuff during his time as a beat cop, John had always been a bit of a hypochondriac. Not in any serious sense, but realizing that Lucifer could potentially be hacking up the divine equivalent of a ball of mucus and phlegm definitely made his stomach twist.

Lucifer scoffed, but surprisingly listened to his brother. John sent a silent thanks to God, but stopped halfway through his prayer when he realized that he just may be better off directing it at Amenadiel instead. If Lucifer was to be believed, which John still had a healthy amount of skepticism for, Nietzsche had been right. In all the ways that mattered, God was as good as dead. Between the headache and the whole coming back to life thing, John really didn’t want to unpack that existential crisis right now.

“Is that a thing?” he asked instead. “Can you guys get the celestial flu or something?”

Lucifer sighed. “Don’t be silly, Jonathan. Angels can’t get sick.”

“Well clearly you are, so that can’t be entirely true.”

“John has a point, Luci. Whatever this is, it shouldn’t be happening.” Amenadiel turned to John. “And whatever is going on with souls crossing back over the threshold shouldn’t be happening either. It would be foolish to assume that these two events coinciding is a mere coincidence. I’d like to hear more about how you got back to Earth, John. I have a feeling that Luci has omitted some key details.”

At that, Lucifer tightened his hand around his glass of whiskey. At some point he’d poured himself glass number four, making John certain that he would be DD’ing the Devil himself back to Chloe’s apartment later.

“I don’t think I’m the best one to ask about details.” The image of Lucifer’s wrist covered in “souvenirs” flashed through John’s mind. “If anything, we were coming to you for some answers. All I know is that one second I’m in Limbo with this jackass,” he jerked a thumb in Lucifer’s direction, “and the next my daughter is telling me that I’ve been dead for nearly twenty years.”

“Limbo?” Amenadiel asked incredulously. “What ever were you doing there? Human souls are not supposed to go there.”

“Well I did. Lucifer told me that others go there too.”

Amenadiel looked at Lucifer.

“Times have changed, brother. Humans have more fight in them now, and Azrael has a shorter temper than she used to. Humans still condemn themselves to their respective eternities, but if they are particularly wily and combative when Azrael sees them off, sometimes she doesn’t see the job through. Usually they make it where they need to go without her guidance, but occasionally they do not. Those who don’t end up in Limbo.” Lucifer inclined his head in John’s direction, as if to give an example.

Amenadiel didn’t look convinced. “How could John have been in Limbo if he recalls seeing you? How are you certain that it wasn’t Hell?”

“It wasn’t Hell,” Lucifer said sharply, catching both Amenadiel and John off guard. John wasn’t sure what had just happened, but whatever Amenadiel had implied was obviously a touchy subject.

Lucifer stared at them for a moment, dark eyes unblinking and tracking their reactions like a predator. Then he sighed, and his shoulders relaxed, as if a great weight had dragged them down. His fingers worried his cufflinks again.

“Hell isn’t my only domain. Technically Dad also cursed me with that Dad-forsaken wasteland, but I hardly visited. It was a nice getaway when Hell became too much to bear, but it was just as undesirable in different ways.” Lucifer paused then. His eyes had grown distant, and his jaw was set. His hands flitted back to his glass.

“Do you remember our fallen brethren?” he said, his voice small.

Amenadiel’s brow furrowed at the subject change. “Of course, Luci.”

Lucifer continued to stare into his glass. “I wasn’t the only one who changed after I Fell. Our siblings, the ones that eventually fell too, they burned just as I did. After I had managed to pull myself out of the Lake of Fire, I gave the ones whose minds hadn’t completely shattered during the process positions within my court. They were, after all, family.” He chuckled humorlessly.

“In light of my recent sins, nepotism seemed like the least of my concerns at that point. I was correct, to some degree. Over time, most of the fallen grew twisted and corrupted by sin and they became a new breed of demon--an archduke-- but there were others who never recovered from the Fall. Something within them had broken. They weren’t quite demons and they certainly were not angels, either. They were, for lack of better description, mutilated. Inside and out. Their minds were fractured and their bodies, well--”

Lucifer’s form contorted like a tv glitch. Where his face should have been was replaced with something scarred and horrifying. It vanished just as quickly as it had appeared, but it didn’t matter because John had seen. Lucifer’s regular face was back, but John saw it with new clarity. Even before, he would freely admit that Lucifer was beautiful, perhaps the most beautiful person he’d ever seen, but it was a different beauty now. Now the sculpted angles of his face looked cruel and alien.

He didn’t think there were words to describe the primal sense of fear he had felt upon seeing it. It was like an echo of the morning’s conversation, when he’d discovered the name of the angel that had guided him through Limbo. He wanted to bolt like a spooked horse and run and run until he was certain that Lucifer would never find him. John’s heart raced, but his fear kept him rooted in his chair. He knew he should calm down. He had to calm down. His head felt like it was going to explode. John groaned and put his head back in his hands.

“Jonathan.”

John’s head snapped back up, bringing a wave of dizziness along with it. His heart seized when he realized that Lucifer was staring straight at him. The afterimage of his burned face lingered in John’s mind’s eye, and it was almost impossible for him to look at Lucifer at all.

“Do not go breaking on me now. The Detective will be very upset with me if you do.” His tone was blasé, but John saw a glint of uncertainty in his eye. Was Lucifer upset by his reaction? Why would the Devil even feel that way? John searched his shark-eyes for an answer.

Shockingly, Lucifer was the one to look away first. He returned his attention to his glass for a second time before continuing his explanation.

“The other fallen--the ones driven mad by the Fall-- were little more than rabid dogs, and they had developed an insatiable hunger for divine flesh. I suppose in human terms you would say they became cannibals, but such a human concept does not do their transformation justice. They were truly beastly, mere husks of angels and mutated beyond any demon.” John shuddered as he remembered the feeling of claws tracing along his cheek. Beastly indeed.

“So I locked them up,” Lucifer proclaimed. “I had the archdukes assist me in rounding them up and throwing them into Limbo. There they could live freely, on a separate plane away from Heaven and Hell, and out of my hair. I would only visit occasionally, like I said, for peace and quiet and to make sure that they were behaving.”

The room dissolved into silence once again. Amenadiel seemed to still be processing the information, and John was trying his best not to pass out from pain or fear. He still wasn’t sure which would eventually win out. He supposed by the way his skull felt like it was getting a forced lobotomy he would have to say it was going to be the pain.

Amenadiel finally cleared his throat. “So if I understand you correctly, you have been completely aware that these...creatures have been running amuck in Limbo, and yet you continue to let them roam, even though they're torturing innocent souls?”

In an instant, Lucifer slammed his hands onto the counter. John flinched as the sound ricocheted through his head like a massive bell. Amenadiel stood, unflinching, his face contorted into a stony mask. Lucifer’s eyes blazed and his lips curled back into a snarl. In that moment he looked every bit of the razor-sharp angel that had plucked John from the clutches of his cannibalistic siblings.

“Do not twist my words, Amenadiel, and do not criticize that which you do not know. I made the best of a bad hand. I dredged the land for lost souls as often as I could, but there was only so much I could do. And make no mistake, not all of the souls I found were innocent. I spared rapists and murderers from the clutches of our deranged siblings just as often as I pulled out martyred cops and saints. They all got the justice they deserved, and I carried it out like a good little son.”

At that, Lucifer turned on his heel and busied himself with something on the other side of the kitchen. Amenadiel simply watched his brother sulk and sighed heavily. “Luci,” he said to the Devil sulking in the kitchen. “I’m sorry. It was wrong of me to pin the blame on you. I jumped to conclusions.”

Lucifer turned back to face them, face drained of any prior anger. “Damn right you did.”

“But,” Amenadiel continued, pointing a finger at Lucifer. “My initial point still stands. It’s obvious that these creatures are dangerous, and yet they roam freely in Limbo. The last interaction you had with John was in the presence of these creatures. Isn’t there a possibility that your illness and John’s return to Earth are linked? They feed on the divine, and you said it yourself that none of the other resurrections occurred more than a day following their initial death.”

“That’s just it,” John chimed in. “Technically, it’s been twenty-or-so years since I saw Lucifer in Limbo. It may have only felt like a couple hours for me, but I imagine for him…” He waved his hand in lieu of finishing his thought.

“Yes, Jonathan is correct. In fact, I forgot about your existence entirely until you started threatening me over breakfast this morning.” Lucifer clapped his hands together. “At any rate, I think we can surmise that whatever this silver nonsense is, it is most certainly a fluke. If these events were truly connected then I would have gotten ill two decades ago. Nothing to do with Johnathan. Nothing to worry about. The resurrections on the other hand...” he shrugged.

“I don’t think we should discount the idea,” John cut in again. “Amenadiel’s right, it’s stupid to overlook the possibility. For now, I suppose we can put a pin in it, but it shouldn’t be off the table completely.”

Lucifer shot him an annoyed look. “Fine, whatever. Gang up on me, then.”

“Luci, we’re trying to help,” Amenadiel chided. Lucifer just rolled his eyes.

“The other bodies reeked of Heaven,” he started again, changing the subject. “I don’t know why or how, but they do, and it’s positively unbearable.”

John didn’t know Heaven even had a smell, but Amenadiel nodded like he understood. “I don’t have an answer or even an idea of how to explain that facet of this mystery. I would have to go to the Silver City to find out any more information.”

Lucifer considered Amenadiel’s proposition for a moment. He finished off the rest of his drink and glanced around the room. “Well, what are you waiting for?” he asked. “We’re in a time crunch, the sooner the better!” Dropping his empty glass into the sink, Lucifer swept out of the kitchen and towards the door. He turned back to face John and Amenadiel, a hand poised on the door handle. “Brother, I’ll be expecting your answer shortly.” Then he gestured to John. “Are you coming?”

John just sighed and hauled himself out of the chair. It took some effort to get his bearings, and when he finally did he stuck out his hand for Amenadiel to shake once more. Amenadiel inclined his head towards John and offered him a genuine smile.

“It was very nice to meet you, John Decker. Chloe speaks very highly of you. I can see now that her stories ring truthfully. You're a good man.”

John returned the smile, wincing as the pain in his head worsened with the movement. “Well I don’t know about that, but thank you. It was nice to meet you too.”

Before John could say anything else, Amenadiel dropped his hand and simply disappeared into thin air. John stared stupidly at the spot the angel had been occupying just a few moments before. He wasn’t sure what just happened, but at this point, he wasn’t sure he really wanted to find out.

Lucifer made an impatient sound from his place at the door. “Jonathan, you’re dallying. Are you going to stare off into space for the entire day?”

John shook himself and started towards the door. “Yeah, yeah, calm down I’m coming.”

When they reached the parking lot, John ignored the pain in his head and made a b-line for the driver’s side door, just barely sliding his body between it and Lucifer’s hand reaching for the handle.

“Give me your keys,” he said, making sure to use his no-bullshit cop voice.

“No.” Lucifer tried to wiggle his way around John, but John stood firm.

“You just drank four glasses of hard alcohol, I’m not letting you drive drunk through downtown LA.” Lucifer only continued to wiggle and try to squirm his way around John. Fuck, did he ever stop moving? John caught Lucifer’s arm as he tried to reach for something in the car. “Seriously, Lucifer, stop. I don’t care that you’re the Devil, you’re not driving.”

As weird as it felt to say that, there was truth in John’s words. His fear over seeing Lucifer’s other face had almost entirely dissipated.

“I’m not intoxicated, I have a supernatural metabolism!” He wiggled his arm out of John’s grasp and leaned around him to grab whatever it was that he had been trying to get from the car. When he found it, Lucifer handed the mystery item to John. It was a breathalyzer. Police issued. Most likely Chloe’s, John thought. When John did nothing with it, Lucifer pushed it and the hand holding it to John’s chest.

“Test me,” he said. “If I blow under the legal limit, I drive. If I blow over, which I won’t, you can drive. Deal?”

John sighed. He knew Lucifer was trying to compromise, but it didn’t change the fact that John’s patience had been steadily declining since Lucifer had decided to drag him all over the city. “Fine,” he said, exasperated and desperately wishing for somewhere to lie down.

He quickly set up the breathalyzer, his muscle memory taking over for him. Through some small miracle, Lucifer took the test without complaint. John had expected the meter to read at least an .09, but he was dumbfounded when he saw the 0.00 staring back at him.

“Holy shit,” he mumbled. He gave the breathalyzer a little shake just to make sure it had gotten the right reading. The numbers remained unchanged.

Lucifer smirked. “Can we get on with things, then?”

On a day when John’s head wasn’t killing him, he would have asked for a retest, just to ensure that Lucifer hadn’t somehow rigged it in his favor. But John was exhausted and it was almost impossible to fake something like a breathalyzer, especially one that he himself had administered, so he decided to just let it slide. After all, it wasn’t like he was in any better condition to drive.

Wordlessly, John stepped out of the way and climbed into the passenger seat. Lucifer gave a victorious whoop and threw himself into the car. Another twinge of pain drilled through John’s skull and he winced away from his companion.

Now that he could take a moment to just breathe, John could finally acknowledge that he didn’t feel like himself. He felt feverish. Or high. He’d never been high to know what that felt like though. His forehead felt like it was about to split open like an egg, and he brought a hand up to touch it, just to make sure that no cracks had started to form. When he felt nothing, he squeezed his eyes shut and flopped back against the seat, wondering why Lucifer hadn’t driven off yet.

“Lucifer, why aren’t we moving?” he muttered, politeness thrown by the wayside.

“Because you’re doing a rather dramatic imitation of a dying raccoon. I don’t know much about humans, but I know enough to recognize that this isn’t normal behavior.” John must be hallucinating because Lucifer’s voice almost sounded caring. He told him as such.

Lucifer scoffed and finally shifted the car into gear. They drove in silence for about ten minutes before he spoke again. “It is possible that your body isn’t as stable as we initially thought.”

“What do you mean?”

“It’s either that or your soul is unstable. Either way, something, besides the obvious, is not right. I have a feeling this headache of yours has been triggered by some imbalance. Whether that imbalance is in your mind, body, soul, or if my Father has decided to restitch the fabric of the universe, I cannot say for certain. The easiest way to solve it would be to return you back to your prior state.”

“My prior state, as in dead, right?”

Lucifer hummed, a nonanswer. That was all John needed to know that he’d been correct.

“Hey, please tell me we’re going back to Chloe’s?” he said, changing the subject. “It would really make her upset if we’re not there when she gets off work.”

“Ah, actually we won’t beat the Detective home.”

John sat straight up, whipping his head towards Lucifer. “What do you mean we’re not making it home before Chloe?”

Lucifer waved his hand absently. “Well you’ve lived in LA, you know how the traffic can be. Plus, we wasted more time than I had anticipated at Amenadiel’s.”

John sputtered and checked his watch. “But it’s like four in the afternoon. Even with traffic it won’t take us that long to get to her apartment, and the LAPD doesn’t usually let cops off until five at the earliest.”

“And you’d be correct; however, we’re not going to the Detective’s apartment straight away.”

“Where could we possibly be going?” John threw his hands up in the air because the alternative was to wrap them around Lucifer’s throat to choke some sense into him.

“I planned on stopping to grab something to eat, since I’m famished and surely you are too, considering we skipped lunch and barely had breakfast. I figured if we aren’t going to beat the Detective home we might as well show up with something to soften the blow. It’s easier to ask forgiveness than it is to get permission, you know.”

Lucifer shrugged. “Besides, it’s likely that she won’t be in a good mood anyways. I missed a call from her around noon, and about an hour ago she texted me saying that she wasn’t feeling well and was thinking about taking off of work early.”

“Did you call her back?” John asked.

“Call who back?”

John stared at him, bewildered. “Chloe. You said she tried to call you. Is she okay?” John’s outrage had been building slowly over the course of the day, but it had skyrocketed more in the last ten minutes than it had in the past few hours. He’d kept himself in check so far, but he wasn’t sure if he could hold it back if Lucifer insisted on being this much of an idiot.

“Oh. No, I didn’t return her call. I’m sure she’s fine, though.”

Something in John’s chest shifted. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he exploded. “First, she tells you not to leave the house, and the first thing you do is immediately go against her wishes. Then, you don’t even have the audacity to return her phone call? You’re acting like such an asshole. I love Chloe and I respect her, but I don’t know what she sees in you. As far as I’m concerned, you don’t deserve her.”

Lucifer stilled. His fingers stopped on the steering wheel mid-drum, and if not for the wind whipping at his clothes, John would have thought that he was made of stone. A drop of fear slid down John’s spine as the weight of his actions settled into his bones. He may have gotten over the initial shock of seeing Lucifer’s true face, but that still didn’t change the fact that he’d just screamed at the Devil. No, not even that, he’d just screamed at Chloe’s boyfriend. Partner. Whatever he was. Someone important to her.

But just because Chloe cares for him didn’t mean that he didn’t deserve it , a voice whispered in the back of his head.

For a moment, John thought Lucifer wasn’t going to respond, but out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of a poisonous smirk.

“You know, the Detective always told me that you were a soft spoken man,” Lucifer said.

John clenched his jaw at the perceived taunt. He turned to fully face Lucifer to give him another piece of his mind, but stopped mid-breath when he saw his face. Lucifer was purposely not looking John’s way, gaze fixed on the road ahead of them. He wasn’t really looking at the road, though, John thought. Even with half of his face obscured, John could tell that he was looking past it and into some distant memory instead, the same soft smile he’d given Chloe the night before playing across his lips. It was an abrupt change from how he’d been just a minute before: flippant, callous, ancient.

John deflated instantly. “I’m under a lot of stress right now,” he replied dumbly. It was all he could think to say.

Lucifer drove on silently. He still did not look John’s way.

“I know being stressed is no excuse for how short I’ve been with you today, but this is a lot for me to take in. I was never the atheist that Chloe turned out to be, but I was never truly a believer either. God, Heaven, you, it’s overwhelming. Not only that but Chloe--” John’s voice broke when he pictured his little girl as the twenty-something he left behind. He cleared his throat, trying to beat down the rising wave of emotion. “I didn’t get to help her move into her first apartment, I didn’t get to give her away at her wedding, I’ve never even gotten to hold my granddaughter,” he said quietly. “She grew up without me and I’m angry with myself for letting it happen. Seeing you with her, you being there for her when I couldn’t, it’s hard.”

That was the ugly feeling that had been sitting in John’s chest all day. That was the thing that couldn’t be packed away into a neat, little mental box to be dealt with at a later date. No matter how many times he’d tried to compartmentalize it, it always came back with full force. He knew it was the reason he was acting so caustically towards Lucifer, but it was as if his time in Limbo had tainted him in some way. It was almost as if simply brushing against those sinful beasts had made him into one too, teeming with new and nasty habits. The very thought left an equally nasty taste in his mouth.

He was used to dealing with jealousy. Penny had groupies and superfans just like any other actress of her day, and it had never bothered him before. He’d always trusted her. Now he found himself unable to bury the jealousy like he had before his death. It was embarrassing to admit. John had never wanted to be one of those overbearing and overprotective fathers.

He wasn’t sure how long they sat there, Lucifer navigating them through the maze of LA highways, and John lost in thought. The car coasted along an exit ramp, and as they entered back into the city, Lucifer broke the silence.

“My Father was not the kind of father that you were--that you are,” he amended. “He wasn’t kind or nurturing or any of those things. In fact, He was quite harsh with my siblings and me at times. The last conversation we had was the shouting match that eventually got me condemned to Hell.”

John wasn’t sure where Lucifer was going with his anecdote, but he remained silent, just as the other man had when he’d vented out his own feelings.

“Even in the midst of my anger, even when I would scream my throat raw yelling obscenities at Him from down below, some part of me still loved Him and wanted Him to love me in return. I hated that part of myself for centuries. He was my punisher and my jailer, and yet, I still couldn’t rid myself of the longing to be recognized as His son.

“You and the Detective don’t have that kind of relationship, obviously, but I say all of this so that you’ll understand and believe me when I say that the Detective loves you very much. There are very few things that you could do as a parent to make her stop caring for you. Not even death could sever her heart from yours. She has made her peace with your passing, and for both her sake and yours, Jonathan, you should too. If you don’t, your guilt will condemn you to Hell. That’s how the system works; humans choose their own fate, no Devilish temptation required.”

Lucifer grimaced at his poor attempt at a joke. Then, he glanced over at John, as if to gauge his reaction to something. “Amenadiel was correct; you’re a good man and a good father,” he said, eyes drifting back to the road. “You don’t deserve the torment that awaits you there.”

His words echoed in John’s mind. You don’t deserve the torment that awaits you there.

“I’m sorry that I said you don’t deserve Chloe. That was wrong of me,” John said. “It’s not up for me to decide.”

Lucifer made some noncommittal noise.

“We got off on the wrong foot, and I genuinely want to try and get to know you properly.” John hesitated. “If you’ll let me,” he added almost too quietly to be heard over the wind.

Lucifer sighed his back-breaking sigh. “I suppose we can start over.”

At his affirmation, the ugly feeling in his chest subsided. “Good,” he nodded. “I’m glad.”

“But,” Lucifer stuck a finger up in the air, as if preparing to give another monologue. “Just because we’re “starting over” doesn’t mean that I’ll completely stop tormenting you, Jonathan. You’re far too entertaining when your brain is on the verge of melting.”

Lucifer’s tone was light and any malice it may have contained before had been replaced by a vibrant playfulness. John couldn’t fight back the smile on his face.

“Well as Chloe’s father, it is my job to give you a hard time, so I’ve got some tormenting of my own to do too.”

Lucifer chuckled. “I’m the Devil, darling. I’d love to see you try to get under my skin.”

“I’ve got a few cards up my sleeve,” John said. “You never know what might happen.”

Lucifer didn’t respond to that, but a sly smile had plastered itself to his face.

He guided the Corvette down a maze of one-ways, and five minutes later, they slowed to a stop and parked on a quiet street. As John took in the sun-bleached storefronts and crumbling fire escapes, he thought nothing of their location. It was only when he caught sight of a beat up dirt green sign boasting Marisol’s Flower Arrangements that John realized where they were.

“I died at a corner store about a block from here,” he said numbly, all traces of playful teasing draining away. They’d parked too far down the block for John to properly see the store, but he didn’t need a visual, the image of it was burned in his memory.

Lucifer got out of the car. “I know. I parked a block away for a reason. The Detective always says that you shouldn’t let victims see their crime scenes unless they specifically ask to. Something to do with shock or trauma.”

“So why bring us here at all?” John asked, though he already knew the answer. He was just surprised that Chloe still came here after everything that had happened with the shooting.

“Like I said, the Detective doesn’t hate you,” Lucifer replied with a knowing look. He tossed John the car keys. “I’ll be back shortly.”

Lucifer was true to his word, returning only ten minutes later with a takeout bag. When he got back in the car, he traded it for his keys. As they drove back through the city, John tried his best to ignore the bag on his lap. The heat from the food radiated through the cheap paper and into his skin like a persistent house cat kneading at his lap. He hated to think what would happen when he opened the bag. These sandwiches hadn’t just been Chloe’s favorite, once they were his favorite too. He feared that when he would eventually unwrap the foil, he wouldn’t be able to stomach them.

Secretly, John was glad that Lucifer hadn’t expected him to walk into that corner store. He was almost certain if he had, he would have ended up on the tile floor retching at the smell of grease and sweat. He’d choked on that scent as he laid with a bullet in his chest. He could only hope that he wouldn’t choke on the food when it came time to eat it.

John thought back to a time when he had gagged on black tar and maggots instead of grease and blood. He swallowed hard; an echo of oil slid down the back of his throat. Or maybe it was crawling back up. Maybe John would wake the next morning and find that whatever horrors he’d tasted in Limbo were festering inside of him like he was John Hurt in Alien . He supposed if that were true, then it was only a matter of time before it tore through his chest. John shuddered. He absentmindedly touched the space over his heart, as if it too was going to burst out of his chest.

The rest of the drive back to Chloe’s apartment was silent, and neither he nor Lucifer seemed to mind. For John, it was even a welcome reprieve from the madness that was his resurrection and a quiet moment before the inevitable emotional explosion waiting for them at the apartment.

His suspicions were only confirmed when the Corvette pulled into the parking lot. Chloe already had the door open and was standing in the doorframe with her arms crossed. He couldn’t completely make out her features from where they were parked, but John was sure when they got close enough her brows would be scrunched up in an exact replica of Penny’s when she was upset.

Lucifer killed the engine and jumped out of the car. His hands immediately flitted to his cufflinks and then on to smoothing invisible lines in his jacket. At least he was smart enough to be a little nervous, John thought.

“Detective!” Lucifer said when they got to the door. “We bought dinner!”

Chloe’s mouth flattened into a thin line. “What happened to not leaving the apartment?” she demanded.

Lucifer snatched the takeout bag from John’s grasp and held it up as if it explained everything. By the way her eye twitched, Chloe was not impressed.

“Is that the only place you went?” she demanded again.

Lucifer thrust the takeout bag back into John’s hands and flashed her a nervous smile.

“No,” John said flatly.

“Lucifer!”

Lucifer only flapped his hands and slipped past Chloe into the apartment. “It was just to see Linda and Amenadiel!” he called over his shoulder.

Chloe took a deep breath. She sagged against the doorframe, her shoulders tight with tension. “Dad, wherever he dragged you to, I’m sorry. It’s my fault for thinking that Lucifer could stay still and listen for more than a half hour.” She said the last bit a little louder, casting her gaze over her shoulder and making sure the man in question had heard them.

“It’s fine, monkey,” John said, drawing her attention back. “For what it’s worth, I’m sorry I didn’t try harder to keep us here. I shouldn’t have gone along with it.”

Finally, Chloe pushed herself off of the doorframe and allowed him to pass. “You shouldn’t have even had to argue to stay here,” she said as he walked past her. Even with his back to her, John could tell she was staring daggers at Lucifer while he busied himself with setting the table.

Just like he had that morning before Chloe had gone to work, John felt out of his element. It was easier for him to interact with Lucifer and Chloe separately. They represented vastly different periods of his life, or death, in Lucifer’s case. With them separated from each other, John could almost pretend that he was still living a normal life. When he was with Chloe, he could ignore his death. When he was with Lucifer, John could accept it head-on. But when they were together, it was difficult. He felt every inch the man lost in time when he saw them together.

All of these thoughts ran through John’s head in under a few seconds, but the existential discomfort of it all made it feel like an eternity.

“Here, I’ll take that from you, Dad,” Chloe said, appearing at his shoulder.

Mechanically, he handed the takeout bag to her, and then went to hang his borrowed jacket back on the hook. Task complete, John turned back to the table, still unsure what he should be doing. He watched Chloe open the bag, as if ready to divvy up their early dinner, and then stop. Her head snapped up to look across the table where Lucifer was pouring their drinks.

“It’s been a stressful two days, I knew you would like to have them,” he said, not looking up.

Lucifer finished filling the third glass in silence. When Chloe still hadn’t responded, he finally met her gaze. John didn’t know what he found there, her back was still to him, but Lucifer’s shoulders hunched.

“Did I get it wrong?” he asked, seemingly folding in on himself in a way that John didn’t know was possible.

“No. You didn’t. Thank you,” she replied softly. “But did you--?”

“No!” Lucifer waved his hand vehemently. “He stayed in the Corvette.”

Chloe nodded, and it was as if that motion cued all the others back to normal. She began setting their food onto plates, and Lucifer fluttered back into the kitchen as if nothing had happened. Slowly, John walked up to the table.

“Can I help with anything?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Chloe said, balling up the empty takeout bag, “everything’s already done. Just take a seat.”

He reluctantly did as he was told. He stared at his foil-wrapped sandwich until Lucifer and Chloe sat across from him a moment later. The placement reminded him a bit like an interrogation. In some sense, John thought, perhaps it was. He could tell that Chloe had bitten her tongue about them disobeying her orders today. Surely, it wouldn’t be long before she started fishing for details.

“So,” Chloe began, unwrapping her sandwich. “You went to see Linda and Amenadiel.”

Lucifer took a long sip of wine. “Yes, not that they were any help.”

“Lucifer wanted to look for answers,” John put in, trying to be helpful.

Chloe glanced between the two of them. “What kind of answers?”

“Answers that would help us figure out what in Dad’s name is going on, of course,” Lucifer said.

She raised an eyebrow. “And? What did you find out?”

John was thankful when Lucifer launched into a recount of the day's activities. He loved Chloe, but he simply hadn’t been in the mood to talk since they’d picked up dinner. Speaking of dinner, he glanced down at his untouched sandwich. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to eat, it was just that he was afraid of what would happen when he did. He knew he was going to have to eat it eventually, or else Chloe would start to get suspicious. The last thing John wanted to do was cause her any more stress.

He forced himself to unwrap his sandwich. Chloe was busy listening to Lucifer, but her eyes were fixed on John the moment he’d begun to remove the foil. With her watching, there was little he could do besides take a bite. Much to his relief, he did not taste tar or ash. It tasted the same as he remembered--rich, greasy, fattening. Even still, it turned his stomach, John realized with dismay.

Under Chloe’s watchful eye, he fought through the nausea and forced down another bite. The ends of her mouth quirked up in the ghost of a smile. Seemingly satisfied with what she saw, Chloe turned back to Lucifer.

It hit him that for her, this was the first time in roughly two decades that they were sharing these sandwiches. In that moment, it was as if their lives had simply picked up from where they’d left off. Had John never been shot, this was what he would have done that night. Instead of choking on his own blood, he would have been up late at the kitchen table, eating these exact sandwiches with Chloe, and then sending her quietly off to bed afterwards.

John finished his sandwich. His stomach twisted itself into new shapes each time he swallowed, but he refused to ruin this for his daughter. She needed this as much as he’d needed to tell her that bedtime story the previous night.

To fend off the overwhelming nausea, he found himself laser-focused on Lucifer’s tale. That was when he noticed the omissions. Before, he hadn’t paid Lucifer’s storytelling any mind. He had been dealing with his own inner turmoil about Chloe and his untimely demise. Now that he had nothing else to do but pay attention, John began to notice the discrepancies.

Lucifer told Chloe most of what they’d experienced that day, with a few key cut corners. He neglected to tell her about Limbo and his mysterious cough. At first, John thought he was avoiding those topics because Chloe didn’t know the truth about who Lucifer really was, but that theory was quickly derailed when she didn’t blink an eye at Amenadiel searching Heaven for clues about their “resurrection problem.”

John didn’t know why he didn’t correct Lucifer. It would have been so easy to mention a detail he’d left out and watch the fallout unfold. Yet, he sat in silence, only adding in an affirmative sounding hum when Lucifer’s tale required it.

He just wanted to see where Lucifer went with it, he told himself. Lucifer had to have a reason he was leaving out key details, but then again, did he? If John was being entirely honest, even though they were on better terms now, he didn’t really know who Lucifer was at all. There was no telling whether or not he would be completely transparent with Chloe. In fact, if their detour around LA was anything to go by, Lucifer seemed to skirt around the truth and bend the rules quite often.

If Lucifer still refused to tell Chloe about Limbo and the cough by the time the night ended, John resolved that he would tell her himself. Chloe was his top priority, she deserved to know the truth, he finally decided. Plus, was it not John’s story to tell anyways? After all, he’d been the one who died and ended up there in the first place.

As Lucifer’s story drew to a close, John grew more and more convinced that he would have to be the one to tell Chloe about Limbo. But then, Lucifer’s story stopped abruptly. He cleared his throat once. Twice. Then he coughed. It sounded wet and thick like it had at Amenadiel’s, except this time it sounded deeper. It was as if Lucifer was a normal human smoker, and there was tar stuck to the bottom of his lungs.

Lucifer quickly pressed a napkin to his lips, but the coughs continued until he was almost gagging.

Chloe worriedly patted his back. “Are you okay?”

John opened his mouth to confess to Chloe that, no, her partner was not, and that he’d been like this all day, but Lucifer beat him to the punch.

“Fine,” Lucifer muttered between coughs. He coughed a few more times before it finally petered out, leaving Lucifer weepy-eyed and with an undoubtedly sore throat. He strategically wiped his mouth with a clean corner of the napkin before folding it up and out of Chloe’s sight. There wasn’t a speck of silver to be seen.

“What was that all about?” she asked, handing Lucifer his wine to wash down the remaining cough.

He shook his head, taking down the rest of the wine like a shot. “Not a clue.”

John shot a glare in his direction, and Lucifer tactfully ignored it.

Chloe stared at Lucifer for a few more seconds. When she found what she had been searching for, she stood and gathered up her dishes. “Maybe those cigarettes are finally catching up to you,” she chuckled over her shoulder as she headed to the sink.

“Darling, we both know my mortality stint ended ages ago,” Lucifer replied, voice scratchy. It was a pathetic recreation of the exact phrase he’d said to Amenadiel just hours before.

Chloe snorted. “Sure.”

John waited until she turned on the tap before he leaned across the table.

“You have to tell Chloe about everything that’s going on, not just the parts that you like or understand,” he whispered fiercely.

“That will only cause unnecessary worry for the Detective,” Lucifer whispered back. He unfolded the napkin and tilted it enough for the silver liquid inside to catch the light. “This is not something that she needs to worry about right now.”

“Lucifer, come on!” He gestured to the napkin. “You’re literally coughing up some unidentified substance. You said it yourself, you’re immortal. So why is this happening now?”

Lucifer’s jaw clenched. “I’m fine.”

“I don’t care what you think you are, Chloe deserves to know.”

The tap shut off.

John glanced over to make sure that Chloe was still busy at the sink. When she was, he turned back to Lucifer.

“Tell Chloe, or I will, Lucifer.”

Lucifer just stared at the silver splatter on the napkin and said nothing.

#deckerstar #my fic #fanfic #john decker #lucifer morningstar #lucifer on netflix

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julemmaes · 4 years

Text

Pinky Promise - Chapter Two

A/N: LMAAAO GOOD LUCK FUCKERS

Fic Masterlist

Word count: 4,378

"Could this fit?" Amren asked, showing her an all-black sheath dress with a delicate slit on the thigh. Nesta grimaced and shook her head. Amren puffed and continued to look through the clothes for something suitable for her dinner with Cassian.

Amren had texted her in the middle of the morning and she could never refuse. They had gone out for lunch, between classes, so they could do some shopping while catching up on their lives. Amren worked as a photographer for one of the biggest and best known nonprofit organizations in the country and it was more than rare that they managed to see each other.

When she got out of high school and started working as a freelance photographer, Nesta had been a little hesitant. She had always liked Amren's pictures and thought that her friend had a unique talent, but she was not experienced in the field and was worried that she would never make it in such an unstable profession. And then one day Amren showed up at her house and announced to everyone that she had won a competition to be part of an exploration team that would leave a few months later for the Arctic. She had been away for months, but when she came back she had brought someone with her and the beginning of a career that would make her famous all over the continent for her shots.

Amren and Varian had been together for three years now and had traveled the world, both working for the same channel.

Every time Cassian or Rhysand pointed out to her that she had no more places to visit she stared at the void smiling, always repeating the same thing: "I haven't even started yet."

For now, however, she would stay a couple of weeks in Velaris, while Varian visited his family in Adriata and afterwards they would leave for Lunathion. Amren never failed to remember that this was a huge project, which would allow her to break through to other countries and perhaps find a more important position.

Nesta showed an orange dress with many fringes and a lot of tulle to Amren, who burst out laughing and crossed her arms to make a cross. Nesta snorted and continued her search.

"Yesterday, while I was on a call with Varian, his mother appeared," the friend suddenly said. Nesta turned towards her. Amren imitated her, with a grim face, "She started talking about marriage."

"She did what?" Nesta asked, laughing at the evident panic of her friend.

Amren frowned, "Don't be a bitch, you know how I feel about marriage."

Nesta nodded, continuing to sift through the various dresses. Amren had never been prone to marriage. Growing up in a family with divorced parents who argued every three seconds to decide who was entitled to what - the daughter included - she had never thought that one day it might be a possible option.

When Amren didn't speak for a while, Nesta urged her, "So? Do you want to marry Varian?"

"No!" the other replied alarmed, instantly, then she corrected herself, "Yes?" she grunted, scratching her nose, "I don't know."

Nesta reasoned about it for a few seconds, taking a pastel blue dress and putting it in the bag with the others she had already picked up, "Would it be such a bad thing to consider marriage as a possibility in the future?" she asked her cautiously, not wanting to upset her friend.

"I don't know honestly," sighed Amren, "I love Varian. I really do. But the idea that I have thanks to my parents has nothing to do with what he has. It has nothing to do with what you have too," she said, looking her in the eye. She was right. The example her parents had given her, before they both died, was the example of a perfect marriage, with a mutual relationship of respect and love. Her parents had been best friends before they were married and there hadn't been a day in their lives when they blamed each other for whatever problems they had.

Amren's parents, on the other hand, had divorced when she was still a child and the girl only remembered how hard it was to go from one house to another every week and how hard it was to live with both of them during the custody case. It had not been a good childhood for her. She had not spoken to her mother or father for two years, from all Nesta knew.

"You know, marriage isn't the same for everyone," Nesta began, "and it's not a necessary step in a couple's life. I don't want to tell you what is best for you, because I don't know. But I think you should talk to Varian about it," she told her in a light tone, "I'm sure he will understand whatever you tell him."

Amren nodded, almost distracted, then shook her head. "And you? How are you going to ask him?" she wondered, trying to change the subject.

Nesta indulged her, being more than happy to talk about her proposal, "Do you know the saga that he and I read? The one about the knight and the prince?"

It was Amren's turn to laugh, "Your eyes sparkle every time you mention A Knight's Tales".

"So you listen to me when I talk about it."

Amren raised an eyebrow, mumbling, "It's quite impossible not to when all you and that brute boyfriend of yours do is talk about those books."

"Anyway," she waved her hand midair, "in the last book of the saga, Adelaide, the knight," - I know who Adelaide is - "asks the prince to run away with her and he asks her where they could possibly go and she answers that she bought a house in a faraway town just for the two of them. A place where they can be alone and quiet. Where no one will ever be able to find them," she says smiling, thinking what she would have said. "I got him one of the first editions, that book cost me an arm and a leg and it's two hundred years old."

"The fact that you want to run away from your sisters is quite worrying." Amren joked, making her laugh. "And unfortunately I already knew about this part of the story." she continued in a slightly demented tone, as if she had resigned herself to having to know every slightest detail of the series.

Nesta fixed her hair behind her ear, heading towards the dressing rooms, "I think Feyre wants to leave that apartment too and Elain is practically kicking us out."

"What do you mean?" asked Amren curiously.

They both locked themselves in a dressing room and Nesta immediately undressed, feeling her hair rising because of the cold, "She's bringing I-don't-know-how-many plants into the house. Much more than usual. She' is practically taking oxygen away from us to give it to those things." she heard Amren laughing in the dressing room next to hers.

"Do you already know where Feyre will go?"

She shook her head, putting on her first dress. A long black dress, heavy enough to protect her from the cold. "No, I haven't mentioned it to her yet. But anyway, she has until the end of May to arrange things, I have no intention of starting to move in the middle of the exams."

Amren muttered something before saying, "I can't wait to know how Cassian will react when I point out to him that you beat him to the punch".

"Me too."

Then Amren surprised her, "Are you nervous?"

She didn't have to think twice. She smiled, "No, I'm not."

They kept talking about this and that for the rest of the afternoon, until Nesta had to go back to university and Amren went back to her studio apartment. She had a lecture on Space Systems and when she got home it was already six o'clock, only Elain was on the couch watching some documentary about ancient tribes. Feyre must have gone out to avoid getting asked questions, thing that Elain had surely done.

Cassian had sent her a message before she went into class and confirmed that he would be there, having put Azriel in charge of the bar for that evening.

She made a reservation for 8:30 at their favorite restaurant and carefully wrapped the book, placing a bookmark in the right place so that Cassian could open it and read the first line of the page.

Run away with me. Live with me.

Everything was perfect.

Or so it should have been.

***

Cassian was about to be sick.

Before leaving the house, Rhysand, who was preparing the lesson for his children at the kitchen table, wished him good luck and warned him that he would not be home that night, to give them some privacy in case they needed it. He would be at Mor's.

Now, Nesta was looking at him on the other side of the table with a smile on her face and was telling him about the last topics she had learned in class, something about all the protocols to follow in case of a malfunction of the craft, and normally he would have listened to her in detail, but tonight he couldn't concentrate on the words she was saying.

When he had seen her coming out of the door of her building, in that new pastel blue dress, which wrapped her body perfectly, he had run his hand over the eyes, bewildered. She couldn't be real. She couldn't be his.

When he had kissed her and told her that she was beautiful and she answered him that he was just as handsome, Cassian had almost thought of putting it off another time. He could have waited a few more days.

He didn't want to break this balance of theirs. It was not a precarious balance. It was solid.

Their relationship was perfect. They had no problems and they had never had big, insurmountable ones. This would have destroyed them in one way or another and Cassian knew it.

"Babe?"

Cassian seemed startled, he blinked a couple of times. Nesta was looking at him with a raised eyebrow and an amused expression on her face.

"I'm sorry, I know you're not interested in this stuff, but I'm so excited-"

Cassian stopped her immediately, reaching over the table and taking her hand, "Don't say that, you know I'm interested in everything you say. Whether it's engineering or the color of the new plant that Elain brought home." he smiled at her. Her grip on his fingers tightened.

"Today's one has purple leaves, it's pretty," she replied thinking of her sister. Then she got serious, "Are you okay?"

He nodded, sighing, "I'm just a little tired, down in the dumps," he said, tilting his head to the side, not really lying. "Rhys went to work this morning and when he came back he was doing better - the power of children I guess - but he's still feeling bad about last night. Did you get to talk to Feyre?" he asked more concerned than anything else. He didn't like meddling in other people's business, but everyone's sanity was at stake here. Especially the sanity of who he considered his little sister.

One of their waiters put their desserts on the table. Cassian thanked him with a smile before turning all his attention to Nesta again.

She grimaced, taking her hand away from his and starting to eat, "I didn't see or hear from her at all. Elain says she had lunch with her and they talked a little, but she didn't want to tell me anything and had to go back to the store right after." she took the cherry on her pie and put it on his plate, "Maybe I was wrong to go out with Amren today, I should have gone home too."

Cassian made a sound of disapproval, "Don't worry, she wouldn't have said anything if you'd been there." he smiled at her. "You're not very kind when it comes to Tamlin."

"Well, he's never done anything to deserve my kindness," said Nesta bluntly.

"He did pay a portion of Feyre's college fees, Nes. He got her into that crazy school," said Cassian, almost not believing his own ears. Was he defending Tamlin?

"Feyre would have gotten into the Academy even without daddy's help, and one way or another we would have been able to pay for it ourselves," she continued, giving Cassian another cherry. He knew that she liked cherries as much as he did, but she did it with so much peace of mind that he often wondered if she realized how much she spoiled him sometimes.

"I know she would have been able to get in on her own, but since she's so stubborn to stay with that tool, she might as well use it as such and empty his wallet," joked Cassian.

Nesta chuckled, "You're right."

They finished their desserts in silence and then Nesta looked him in the eyes with so much emotion that Cassian's head spun. He smiled sweetly at her, whispering a I love you, and then she bent over to the side, grabbed her bag and pulled out a brown packet.

He frowned when she handed it to him and took it hesitantly, she looked at him smiling, "What is it?"

***

Cassian was about to open the gift when Nesta started talking, "A few years ago you started talking to me about a stupid book called The Soft Blade. It was about a struggling woman, a woman knight who carried out impossible missions. And of a prince forced to a life at court. Forced to chase the woman who offered the most."

The man in front of her was confused, but this time he was really listening to her, more than interested in yet another conversation about his favorite saga. His fingers still on the wrapping paper.

"I remember starting it only out of curiosity, besides your constant begging. And while you find the fighting and adventure part fascinating, I have never found anything that makes me feel more emotional than Adelaide and Constantin." Nesta shook a hand to tell him to unpack the gift.

She saw Cassian stiffen but smile faintly when he realized what she had given him.

"In The Last Battle, there is a very important part." she whispered, joining hands on the table, feeling some of that nerves Amren had talked about a few hours earlier, "Adelaide asks Constantin to run away with her, to go live with her in a place away from everything and everyone." Cassian opened the book where the red cloth bookmark popped out of the pages. He touched the paper, reading under his breath.

"Run away with me. Live with me."

Nesta waited a few seconds, giving him time to understand what she was implying with that simple but at the same time important gift. "I've been through hell in the last few years. I've earned every shred of happiness I have now and you've been the person who has been closest to me all this time." she was so excited that she could have started dancing in the middle of the room, "We have waited long enough, Cass. We have had enough patience and now we can finally start thinking about what our future will hold. Together."

It had been years since she made any serious decisions without first consulting him, but that together, pronounced at that moment, had more meaning than it had ever had in the past.

That's why when Cassian looked up at her and Nesta saw his eyes, it felt like the air was pushed out of her lungs.

She felt her stomach twist and she knew that if she had a mirror in front of her now she would look at a ghost. She put her hands on her lap, clenching her fists.

Cassian was looking at her sadly, with his jaw tight and the look of someone who has to give bad news.

"Nesta..." the waiter who had served them for the entire evening interrupted him, asking if they wanted anything else.

"The check, please. Quickly if possible, we have to go somewhere else." replied Nesta without looking at Cassian and giving her credit card to the boy.

Cassian leaned over the table, looking at her, "Nesta, listen to me."

"Not here," she said, getting up and starting to collect her things.

"Please, let me explain." he begged her, taking her hand. Nesta snatched him off without too much effort and approached his chair looking him in the face. Whatever he had to explain, Nesta knew it would raise hell.

"I said not here, not that we wouldn't talk about it," she said, thanking the waiter and taking back her card. She left the restaurant, without worrying about waiting for Cassian.

They got into the car in silence and he carefully laid the book inside the compartment in the trunk. When he didn't start the car immediately, Nesta stretched out on the seat, snatched the keys from his hand and slipped them into the patch, starting the car. "Drive."

"Nes, can I first explain why I reacted like this?" when she didn't answer, Cassian took it as an invitation to continue, "I want to live with you, my answer to your question is yes. I want to spend the rest of my life with you-"

"Stop it." she said through her teeth, "Stop it, please. Let's go home." her voice broke.

Saying those words hurt her more than usual. Home.

That was not their home.

Cassian tried to take her hand and she moved it, crossing her arms and turning towards the window.

The ride from the restaurant to his apartment was agonizing. Nesta was not good at being alone with her thoughts.

They had spent the last seven years of their lives saying I love you, being there for each other. They had shared joy and anger and pain. They had gotten through high school together and would get through college in a few months. The last two years of their lives had been a constant moving of clothes from one apartment to another.A constant fantasy about how they would decorate their bathroom and bedroom. What colors they would paint the walls of their children's rooms, when the time came.

One day Cassian had told her "I will put a giant picture of you, on our wedding day, on the wall of the fireplace that we'll have in the living room, so that every person who walks through the door will be jealous of how beautiful my wife is."

His wife. That sentence had held so many promises.

Nesta had taken for granted a future with the man sitting next to her. He'd made it clear to her several times that they would spend the rest of their lives together, that they would grow old hand in hand. She had just told him this just a few minutes ago, so what was stopping him?

She dared to look in his direction and Nesta noticed how pained his expression was, the way he held the steering wheel an obvious sign of frustration. She saw it in the way his arm was twitching that he was holding back not to touch her.

Maybe he had been unwell lately and she hadn't noticed it. Maybe she had paid too much attention to her family and neglected Cassian and now he was realizing that he didn't want to be with her anymore and he was just buying time to find a nice way to break up with her.

Even the thought of having to live without Cassian by her side took her breath away.

Whatever was going on in their relationship they would deal with it together, as they had always done. Nesta was just overwhelmed by emotions and didn't give him time to explain himself.

That's why she reached out her hand to him, intertwining her little finger with his, in that simple childish promise to which they were so accustomed.

Cassian turned towards her, almost losing control of the car, he swallowed and squeezed his little finger around hers, nodding almost imperceptibly.

Nesta was carried back years to the day her father died. Cassian had grabbed her by the shoulders shaking her when she stopped answering him. He had held her face in his hands and hugged her, and when he had pulled away and put his little finger in front of her eyes, she hadn't had the strength to ask him what he was doing. Cassian had looked her straight in the eye, "I promise I won't leave you alone tonight and as long as you need me."

She had almost yelled at him that she didn't need to do this crap at such a critical moment, that she had to run to Feyre and Elain, but when he had taken her hand and squeezed her finger around his, she had found immense comfort in that small gesture that until then they had only used for things of minimal importance.

They arrived to his apartment and went up the stairs, their hands joined only by their pinkies. Not a word said in the midst of that chaos.

They detached only when Cassian had to open the door and once inside the kitchen Nesta spoke.

"I love you, Cassian. I love you with every fiber of my being and I know..." she said interrupting him immediately when he tried to spoke, "I know that you love me as much, so I understand that there must be something really important if you haven't said yes yet. I wanted to apologize for reacting like that earlier. I'm sorry." she said, looking at him from the other side of the room.

Cassian nodded, licking his lower lip, "And I apologize for not telling you earlier what I'm about to tell you now."

Nesta hesitated, before sitting down and joining hands on the table. Cassian followed that movement and grimaced.

"I have no way around it, so I'll just say it." he murmured. Nesta waited. And waited.

She was about to tell him that she was imploding to know what was preventing them both from living the dream of a lifetime when he said it.

He said it, and Nesta choked a laugh, holding her hand over her mouth.

And she thought it was serious business. She stood up, wanting to punch him for that stupid joke, but Cassian looked at her seriously.

"What?" she whispered, falling back on the chair.

"I have decided to enlist."

"Are you serious?" she asked, opening her eyes wide and leaning forward, towards Cassian, looking for a clue, something, anything that would confirm that he wasn't serious, "Is this one of your stupid jokes?".

Cassian rubbed one hand on his face, leaning with the other against the back of a chair, "I would have done it under other circumstances, I would have wanted to soften the blow and not do it like this," he said, desperately moving one hand between the two of them.

Nesta clenched her fists, cutting her palms with her fingernails, "So now it's my fault because I decided to ask you to move in together?"

He looked at her severely, "I didn't say that and you know it."

They stared at each other for a few more seconds. Neither of them spoke a word.

"You're not fucking joking," whispered Nesta in dismay.

"No, Nesta, I'm not joking. I'm going to enlist in the army."

The school, his bar, the wedding they both knew was practically imminent. The now tangible future that Nesta had dreamed of every day since she first kissed him. Her work at Prythian Space Agency.

Everything was fading away before her eyes.

She let out a breathy laugh, her hands to her head, "And- when, when did you decide all this?" she exasperatedly asked, "When did we decide that this sudden urge to commit suicide was part of the plan?" she looked him in the eye, snapping to her feet.

Cassian started pacing back and forth, just like Feyre had done the night before, "I've been thinking about this for a few months now-"

"A FEW MONTHS?" cried Nesta in amazement.

"Yes, a few months." he replied, looking guilty at least.

"Jesus Cassian." she murmured, "And when on earth were you planning on telling me this, uh? When were they going to send me a letter from the front saying that my boyfriend is dead?" she shouted.

"I'm not going to die," he said harshly.

Nesta found herself laughing hysterically, "It seems to me that you want to enlist in the army, or did I misunderstand?"

"Enlisting in the army doesn't mea-"

"Joining the army, Cassian, means going to places where there is war. War." she repeated. "It means holding a weapon and being willing to kill for the love of god-"

There was so much confusion in her head that she couldn't make a complete sentence without losing the thread. She put her hands in her hair. Her breathing labored.

There were so many reasons why Cassian shouldn't have even thought about this job option in the first place.

They were fine. They both had prospects for the future.

"Nesta, you have to listen to me-" his voice filled with emotion.

"I don't need to do anything, Cassian." she said spelling out the words, without looking at him. She needed to be alone. She couldn't think straight. She couldn't rationalize with his figure so close. "I've already heard enough."

"No, you must..."

"Enough!" she shouted. "I can't- I cannot think. I gotta go." she whispered, so softly that Cassian had to ask her to repeat.

She grabbed her purse and before he could understand what was happening, Nesta was out of his apartment and in the street, flailing for a cab to stop. She heard him calling her as he hurried down the stairs to reach her.

Cassian had just arrived on the ground floor when she slammed the car door and gave her address, leaving the love of her life behind.

acotar tag list (if you wanna be added/removed dm me or send and ask)

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writing-with-olive · 4 years

Text

A starting place for self-editing your novel

I wrote this in a reblog to one of @boy-who-can-fly‘s posts, but as I couldn’t add any tags to that that would make it findable to more than just my followers, I figured I’d make the same content in an original post because YAY TAGS!

Without further ado...

1) Take a break.

Some authors have suggested taking a break for six or so weeks, but I find anything longer than three makes me too distanced from my story, and I have to work a lot harder to get back into my protagonist’s head. During this break, don’t so much as look at your story. Instead, focus on something else. Maybe growing your author platform, planning or developing another wip, or researching the publishing industry if publishing is the end goal for your book (this goes for both traditional and self pub). The point of this is that without some distance, it’s going to be a lot harder to see larger developmental flaws.

(this is a very long post, so the rest of the steps are below the break)

2) The first read-through.

After your break has ended, and you’ve got to be a little stern with yourself not to extend it farther than what you set, or else you’ll never return to it, do a readthrough. This means either just reading it off you’re computer or kindle, or going to somewhere like staples and getting it printed and spiral bound (this costs money, but I found it helpful down the line). Two rules: 1) no editing. 2) look at the first rule. This read-through is going to help give you a general sense of what is and isn’t working in your book; the problems you notice here are likely going to be the biggest ones. (if you want, you can combine this step with step three, but I found it more helpful to keep them seperate)

3) Outline.

It doesn’t matter whether you outlined before, or whether you decided to pants it. By the time you get to editing, you need to have an outline that’s reflective of what you actually put on the page. Go through your story, chapter by chapter, and for each new scene write down

what is your character’s goal in this scene

what is standing in their way

what is the outcome of the scene.

This list should not go into depth; one short sentece per point, MAX. That being said, make sure to keep things specific, so “MC wants to convice X to go with them to Y.” is going to be a lot more useful to you later on than “MC tries to convince them to go.” This outline is going to help you objectively look at your story structure, as you can see a lot more of what’s happening at once, without being quite so overwhelmed by the sheer mass of the words you wrote. Yes, this step can be a bit tedious, but it is so, so worth it.

4) Sort out what you need to fix, aka start making a game plan for your edits.

Now that you’ve read through your wip at least once through, and probably twice, you probably have a pretty good idea of what you need to fix. The key here is that right now, you want to be fixing on the global edits - the things that span beyond just a single scene or chapter. The reason why is that you don’t want to be spending hours perfecting a scene that you’re just going to need to cut later because it doesn’t advance the plot.

In a new document or spreadsheet (whatever you think will work better for you, I liked using a google doc), write issues you see with:

Each of your main cast (regarding character development, motivations voice, etc)

Setting/s (consistancy, realism for your world)

General worldbuilding (consistancy, things poorly explained/set up)

Main plot (following a given plot structure, building tension, etc)

Each subplot (how it intertwines with the main plot, plot structure, building tension, etc)

Other major things you noticed during your readthroughs

These things tend to be larger scope, and generally are worth addressing first.

5) Picking your edit.

Look at the list of edits, and see which one is going to cause the most ripples through your story. This is going to be the first thing you look at to fix. If there are more than one edits that will all have major impacts on the story, think about which edit would make the other ones easier.

For example, in my wip, Project Toxin, my plot was, well, a trainwreck and a dumpster fire’s love child. But my characterization for my MC was also a wreck. Still, getting the overall plot more in order would make it easier for me to edit my MC, so I chose plot first.

6) Make a game plan for your edit.

Before diving in and ripping through your first draft, come up with a game plan. Brainstorm possible solutions to the edit you’ve chosen, and look at what ripples it would cause. You want to make sure that what route you take isn’t going to upset something major or crucial to your story. Most likely whatever solution you choose will cause some other upsets, so just make sure to think through what makes most sense for your story.

For example, when working on my story, I was fixing plot first. Figuring out my game plan meant looking at my scene list and moving things around/adding/cutting content until I had a plot that was much more satisfactory, and that was, in my mind, not a wreck.

Possible game plans for different types of edits:

1. Plot:

Look at your scene list. What helps to advance the plot? What is dragging the pacing. Are there any elements that you are adding or cutting in your overall story that need to be accounted for? With this in mind, cross out scenes that you want to cut, move scenes around that need to come in a different order, add scenes that need to be added, and mark scenes that need to be combined into one.

2. Characters:

For each of your characters, look at their character development. It’s going to be hard to make them come to life better on the page unless you’ve got a grasp of who they are, even if you didn’t plan them out originally. If you have not, consider listing in a spreadsheet or google doc what their backstory is, what their goals are, why they want those goals, and what a few of their strengths and weaknesses are. Also think about their voice: what words do they use more often? Sentence structures? What do they sound like when they’re talking? Stuff like that. If your character is inconsistant, pick one version of them that you want to follow (knowing that they will likely change over the course of the story), and look at what parts of them you will need to change to accomodate that.

3. Setting/Worldbuilding:

I’ve put these together here as they’re somewhat similar. For poorly explained aspects of worldbuilding, look at where you might add in little details so you can better set that foundation (this is not usually a global edit). If things are inconsistant, look at what makes the most sense for your story, and like what we talked about with characters, alter the rest to accomodate that.

7) Making edits.

This is where you really get to dig in and really move things around. Using the edit you’ve picked and the game plan you’ve developed, go through scene by scene and make the changes. I strongly recommend having a seperate doc from your rough draft to store your second draft in. Currently, my process is to have both open at the same time, and if a scene is already fine, I’ll just copy/paste it over. At least for me, however, it’s usually not, and I’ll either make tweaks to fix it up, or, more often at this early stage, I’ll rewrite it. As an added bonus, I also find that rewriting it makes my prose a lot stronger, since I’ve grown so much as a writer since I originally wrote the scene.

Since you know your story better, you may find other elements that you want to change are improving as you edit. If not though, don’t worry - they’ll get their own editing pass.

8) Repeat steps 5-7

You made a list of edits you needed to make back in step four. Now, follow steps 5-7 to make all of those edits and changes.

9) Repeat steps 2-8

Two steps telling you to repeat in a row? Yes. The deal now is that you want to make sure you’ve cleaned up any global edits before moving on to anything smaller. If you’ve been thourough thus far, this will be a very fast step. If not, think of this step as a safety net. There may have been ripples that you didn’t notice earlier on, and it’s a good thing you’re catching them now.

10) Chapter edits

At this point, we’ve cleaned up all the big edits. Now we’re going to look at each chapter. Within each chapter, there needs to be a mini-arc. A beginning, middle, and end. This is the time to really focus on that. Also focus on things like tightening up prose, combining or compressing paragraphs, making sure you’ve adequately set the scene, etc. If you’re over the word count limit regarding your genre, also focus on cutting a certain number of words from each chapter to put your story back within those limits.

11) The little things

This is about combing through your wip to find all of the little errors that have made their way through edits. Typos, weird or incorrect grammar, useless adverbs, things like that. At this point, everything is on a more superficial level.

Beta Readers

Given that this has gotten quite long, I’m not going to go in depth about beta readers here, but around step 10/11, you’re going to start recruiting beta readers (you’re going to want to try and have multiple rounds of somewhere around 10 betas each, which is why having a good author platform is useful: recruiting is easier). Between each round, you’re going to look at their feedback and make the necessary edits. After several rounds of beta readers, you’re going to look it over a few more times, and then if you’re going the traditional publishing route, you’re going to query agents. If you’re going the self-pub route you’re going to look to hire a professional editor. If you’re not looking to publish, this may be the end of the line.

Good luck editing!

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deanstop13billyjoeltraxx · 3 years

Text

Superposition

a deancas college roommates AU :)

Chapter 11 is up on AO3! Chapter-by-chapter masterlist here.

Happiness Feels a Lot Like Sorrow

Present

Dean was doing his best to uphold his end of the scotch-induced bargain of Monday night. At the very least, he told himself, it would make the next week more bearable, with Cas lingering in his apartment at all hours.

He’d still been making himself busy. He spent twelve hours at the shop on both Tuesday and Wednesday, trying to catch up on the work he’d missed while he’d been out. Bobby had saddled him with the worst of the lot; Honda Odysseys and GMC Yukons that needed tire rotations or oil changes before enormous families made their Christmas treks. He’d started on Cas’s car, but hadn’t gotten much further than getting the old timing belt off.

By the end of his shift on Wednesday, he was exhausted. It felt good, though, being back in the shop, music accompanying him (at a decidedly lower volume than normal), his hands constantly occupied, mind numb from the easy work.

As he drove home from work, a sign in a shopping center caught his eye. Before he knew what he was doing, he was pulling into the parking lot of a local bookstore. He turned off the Impala’s engine and walked into the store, not entirely sure what he was looking for.

It was by impulse, really, that he picked up a copy of The Great Gatsby. It was a special edition, with extra content bound up at the end. He remembered Cas saying something about that book once. It seemed like a reasonable gift.

Dean almost put the book back on the shelf three separate times before forcing himself to the checkout counter. He paid for the book in a hurry, tossing it into the back seat when he reached the car. Stupid, he thought to himself. He wasn’t even one-hundred-percent sure that Cas still liked that book. He supposed, if he chickened out, he could just give it to Sam, instead.

When Dean arrived at the apartment, Sam announced that he was picking up Taco Bell for dinner. Dean and Cas replied “crunchwrap” at the same time when Sam asked them what they wanted. He raised his eyebrows and the synchronicity, but didn’t say anything, just made a note in his phone. Cas went bright red. Dean stared resolutely at the ground.

Cas was sitting in the armchair with a book as Dean sunk into the couch, exhausted from two long days in a row. The history channel on. Dean wrinkled his nose and punched in the numbers for the Food Network.

“You watch the history channel? By choice?” Dean asked, feigning disgust.

Cas smirked as he closed his book. “I wasn’t really watching it,” he said, “But on occasion, I do like to listen to the conspiracy theorists on Ancient Aliens.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “That’s what you and Sam do all day? Nerd out over crazy historians?”

“Mostly,” Cas said sarcastically. Dean snorted.

“You sure you don’t want Sam or I to drive you home for Christmas?” Dean said. He’d made the offer the day before, but Cas had refused.

Cas sighed. “I’m sure. I appreciate the gesture, but Christmas with my family is the last disaster I want to saddle with myself after…” He waved his hand generally.

Dean nodded. “You still talk to any of ‘em? Your family.”

“Occasionally,” Cas said. “My father called yesterday to ask your same question. I suspect he suddenly feels quite guilty about his treatment of me, considering accountants make quite a bit more than small-town preachers.”

“He’s worried about his retirement fund?”

“Most likely. I do still talk to Anna, though, on a regular basis.”

Dean felt a memory pull at his brain. “She’s the, uh, the therapist, right?”

Cas smiled to himself. “Indeed.”

“I’m assuming you’re spending Christmas at Bobby’s?” Cas asked after a beat.

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean said. “The usual thing. It’s always a good time.”

A smile tugged at Cas’s lips. “I’m glad.”

Dean drummed his fingers against the side of the couch. “You know,” he started, and he was already regretting it, “Sam wants you to come. To Bobby’s. For Christmas.” He cringed. The words sounded lame, like he’d made the whole thing up.

“He does?” Cas asked suspiciously.

“Yeah, but I told him it’d probably be weird, you know,” Dean said with a shrug. “Big crowds aren’t your thing, and all.”

Cas eyed him. “Why didn’t he ask me himself?” He wondered. “We spend a lot of time together.”

Dean stared at the TV. “I dunno, that’s on him.”

Dean could still feel Cas’s eyes on him. “Is this your way of inviting me to spend Christmas with you?” He asked.

Dean nearly fell off the couch. “What? No,” he rushed out. “I mean, it’s not… Not with me. With everyone. I dunno, if you’re gonna be here anyway…” He cleared his throat. “I mean, Christmas alone is kinda shitty. Especially in this shithole,” he added as he gestured at his apartment. “You can come if you want,” he said finally. “Everyone would probably be happy to see you.”

Cas was staring at him, staring through him, like he always did. Dean turned his attention back to the cooking show playing on the television.

“What?” Dean snapped.

“Nothing,” Cas said, tilting his head. “Déjà vu.”

Dean’s chest tightened at that. “Anyway,” he said, clearing his throat. “What d’ya say?”

“Okay,” Cas said eventually. “I’ll come, unless that would make you uncomfortable.”

Dean’s head snapped up. After everything, he hadn’t really expected Cas to say yes. “Uh, no, man, like I said on Monday. New start.”

“Right,” Cas said slowly. “And you don’t think we should talk about why we need a ‘new start’, as you say?”

Dean glowered at the TV. “Nope,” he said. Did he always have to make everything difficult? It had been three years, and Dean truly wanted nothing more than to forget about all of it. He didn’t want closure, he didn’t need closure. Neither of them did, seeing as Cas would go back to his glamorous life in less than a week, anyway.

He could feel Cas’s eyes on the back of his head, but he ignored them. “If that’s what you want,” Cas said, his voice resigned.

Dean sat up, then, finally facing Cas. “Don’t you?” He asked, unsure if that was a question he was ready to hear answered.

“I suppose, in a way,” Cas said.

“What the hell does that mean?”

It was Cas, now, who looked away. “It doesn’t mean anything,” he said. “Nothing important, anyway.”

Dean wanted to pry, but knew he would be a hypocrite if he did. He got up and moved to the kitchen for a glass of water. He brought a second one to the living room for Cas, who uttered his thanks.

“You ever finish that thing you were working on in college?” Dean asked.

Cas raised an eyebrow at him. “I thought we were on a clean slate. ‘Forgetting about everything.’”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Come on, that doesn’t count.”

Cas took a sip of his water. “If you’re referring to the pages that are sitting in your bedroom at the moment —” Dean winced “— then no.”

Dean shot him a confused look. “Why not?”

“I… Lost the inspiration,” Cas said carefully.

“Oh.”

Cas regarded him thoughtfully. “You ask me a lot of questions,” he said. “Am I allowed to do the same?”

“You can do whatever you want,” Dean grumbled.

Cas gave him a sideways grin. “I mean, will you become willfully taciturn if I ask you questions about yourself?”

Dean was ruffled at being called out so bluntly. “No promises,” he muttered.

“What has your life looked like the past three years?”

Dean wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t that. He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Not real interesting,” he said. “Working for Bobby during the days, bartending at nights. Saving up money for Sam’s college. Living here.” He shrugged. “Pretty normal, I guess.”

“Do you still bartend?” Cas asked.

“Nah, I quit that when Sam got his scholarship,” Dean replied. “I make enough at the shop to cover what that money won’t.”

Cas smiled. “That’s quite impressive.”

“I’m just a mechanic.”

“I meant paying for Sam’s college.”

Dean felt heat crawl up his neck. “Not a big deal,” he said.

“I would have thought you were on your way to settling down,” Cas said slowly, like he was choosing his words carefully. “But that doesn’t appear to be the case.”

“No,” Dean said, and this conversation was getting dangerously close to acknowledgement of their history. Dean didn’t dare look at Cas. The fact that he thought, after everything, that Dean would be anywhere close to “in a relationship” was downright comical.

Dean, too, chose his words carefully. “I could say the same about you,” he said. “Unless there’s some guy waiting for you in KC,” he added, realizing he couldn’t possibly know otherwise. “Which, if there is, he’s kind of a dick for not —”

“There’s not,” Cas interrupted.

And that was surprising.

Dean hadn’t realized it until that moment, but he had fully expected Cas to be halfway down the road to marriage by now. The fact that he wasn’t erupted feelings that Dean wasn’t entirely ready to face.

“How’s the eye?” He asked, changing the subject.

Cas put three fingers up to the bruise, which was looking less black and more like splotches of blue and green. “Better,” he said decidedly.

“Good,” Dean replied.

They stopped talking, each turning their attention to the program playing on the TV. Dean had a brief moment of disassociation, watching the scene from somewhere beyond himself. It was strange, he thought, to be sitting in his living room with Castiel Novak, two twenty-somethings living vastly different versions of the same life. Inexplicably, he felt the same thing he’d felt when he was eighteen, lying in the dark, talking to Cas across the room. He felt known, he felt seen, like each and every part of him was open for voyeuristic display. It was nothing Cas had said, nothing he had done, it was just him. The way he pushed and pushed against Dean’s shoddy walls while somehow managing to meet him in the middle, every time.

Dean was grateful for the distraction of food when Sam returned. Dean was quiet during dinner, finding comfort in an observatory role. He wondered at Sam and Cas’s closeness, after only a few days spent holed up together. He rolled his eyes when the two of them began communicating in sign language, because of course Cas knew sign language. When Cas’s eyes flicked to Dean after Sam signed something, and the two of them laughed, Dean huffed and gathered the trash to take it out.

It was a frigid night, his breath visible in the low gleam of the floodlights. He tossed the bag over the side of the dumpster and paused. He dug in his pocket, and, finding both his lighter and a pack of cigarettes, lit one up and leaned against the dumpster.

Dean wasn’t sure how long he stood there, taking long drags until the end of the cigarette burned his fingers, and then just standing, staring into the parking lot.

“Dean?” A gruff voice called, and he turned to find Cas standing across from him, a tan trench coat thrown haphazardly over his black t-shirt and jeans. He cocked an eyebrow at Dean. “What are you doing?”

Dean dug the pack of cigarettes out of his jacket pocket in answer. “Smoke,” he said.

Cas gave a short nod and made his way over to the dumpster. He leaned against it, next to Dean, shoving his hands deep in the pockets of his coat. Dean gave him a sidelong glance, but Cas was looking straight ahead, deep in thought.

“You and Sam seem to be getting along,” Dean said, his voice gruff.

“Your brother is extraordinarily kind,” Cas said in reply, not bothering to look at Dean. “He talks about you often,” he added.

Dean snorted. “Yeah, well,” he said, but didn’t complete the thought. He hadn’t bothered to throw on a jacket, and he shivered as the wind blew straight through his thin flannel. Cas was standing close, their elbows almost touching, and Dean could have been eighteen again. He could feel it, somewhere deep in his stomach, that same bundle of nerves and excitement that had always come when Cas was just a little too close. He almost shut his eyes against the strength of it, but he willed it away, looking at Cas instead.

Cas still wore that intent expression on his face as he stared off into the distance. “Hey,” Dean said, elbowing him in the arm. “You creating world peace over there or something?”

The ghost of a smile. “No,” Cas said. “I’m just thinking.”

That was vague. Dean raised an eyebrow. “’Bout what?”

Cas side-eyed him. “I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

Dean rolled his eyes and made a motion with his hand that said, go on.

“It’s just strange,” Cas started, wrapping the coat tighter around himself, “That I should end up stranded here, in Lawrence, of all places.”

Dean resisted the urge to pull out another cigarette before continuing this conversation. “I guess,” he said.

“Stranger still that your shop should be the one closest to me at the time.”

Dean shrugged. “Yeah, I mean, it’s kinda weird,” he said. “I never expected… Well, that’s why I hit my head, anyway.”

Cas whipped his head around to look at Dean in confusion. “What?”

And, yeah, this was embarrassing, but Dean couldn’t exactly stop now. He rubbed the back of his neck. “When I heard you talking to Bobby,” he explained, “I just kinda… Well, I was pretty friggin’ shocked to hear you, of all people.”

Cas stared at him. “Oh,” was all he said.

“So thanks for this,” Dean said, aiming for levity as he pointed to the soon-to-be scar on his forehead. He smirked.

Cas faced forward again. “I didn’t mean to shock you,” he said. “Actually, I had no idea it was you under that truck.”

Dean furrowed his brow. “What, even after you talked to Bobby, you didn’t figure it out?”

Cas shrugged. “The life I always pictured you might be living was very different than the one you live.”

Dean immediately felt defensive. “Okay, asshole, my life is —”

“I didn’t say ‘better’,” Cas interrupted. “Just different.”

That shut Dean up. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know, but he asked anyway, “What did you picture? For me?”

Cas narrowed his eyes. “Nothing very specific. I suppose a girlfriend, a good job, doing something you like, in a place that you liked. You used to speak so fondly of Texas, I thought maybe you’d moved there. You told me, once, that you had thought about engineering. I usually pictured you like that, an office job. A stable life.”

Dean was watching Cas paint that picture. An office job, coming home to some faceless girl and planning his life around the possibility of an okay-marriage and two-and-a-half kids, waking up at forty and wondering what exact point in his life had lead him down this road. It looked wildly unsatisfying from where he stood.

He just made a grunt of understanding. “Well, you were way off, pal,” he said.

Another small smile, like it had almost been contained. “Apparently,” Cas said.

“You know,” Dean said, uncomfortable with the attention placed on him, “You didn’t turn out how I thought either.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well after… You know, I read that thing you wrote. And it was good, Cas, it was damn good.” Something lodged itself uncomfortably in the back of his throat as he recalled the nights he spent wondering where Cas had been, what he’d been doing. He coughed. “I guess I just expected that, by now, you’d have published it. Made a shit-ton of money and bought a douchebag-sized house in, like, Ohio, or something.”

“You make it sound like it’s disappointing that that isn’t the case,” Cas said, and, though he was giving Dean a smirk, his eyes looked sad. Dean felt a pang in his chest at having caused unintentional pain.

“No, no,” he said quickly. “Not… I dunno, I guess… I thought that writing stuff made you happy. And…” And you deserve to be happy, even without me. Dean had the words, they were right there, but he couldn’t say them, couldn’t take that first step in bridging the now-unacknowledged divide between them. “Well, it’s not like I pictured you depressed or anything,” he said instead.

Cas turned to look at him. “Are you happy, Dean?”

The gravity of the question, the look in Cas’s eyes, curious and almost pleading, sucked the air right out of Dean’s lungs. And there was something screaming at the back of his brain, that no, he wasn’t, that he hadn’t been, that he could never be, because the one key ingredient to that happiness was —

“Yeah,” Dean replied in a small voice. “I guess so.”

Cas stared at him for a moment longer, still searching, before dropping his head and turning away.

“Are you?” Dean asked, almost defiantly, as if the question had been a test that now he was forcing Cas to take.

“I’m very fortunate,” Cas said carefully. “If I am unhappy, it is of my own doing.”

And that totally wasn’t an answer, but Dean let it slide. It was cold, and his back hurt, and he was tired from a long day at work. Silently, he pushed off the dumpster and began to make his way back to the apartment. Cas joined him, settling into a comfortable gait by his side. The air was languid between them, like it was too heavy to move.

Dean let both of them back inside and Cas excused himself to take a shower. Sam was watching something on TV and raised his eyebrows at Dean’s re-entrance. Dean just ignored him, settling onto the couch, thinking about fate and happiness and whether or not the two might be connected.

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

taglist! let me know if you want to be added/removed :)

@nguyenxtrang @castielsbeeslippers @fortiusnitius

#supernatural #deancas #destiel #destiel fic

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june-louise · 3 years

Text

Our Kind of Love

A short story of Elizabeth and Philip's struggle throughout Philip's royal tour in season two of The Crown. What if the adultery scandal never happened then? Rated M.

Since I have been inspired lately and created a few drabbles about Elizabeth and Philip set after 2x03 when Philip’s away on the royal tour, I have decided to combine them into a short story.

Some of you may have already read the first chapters. They are now edited though to fit the story better. Feel free to re-read, and stay tuned for next chapter which will be the reunion in Lisbon.

Chapter 1 - The First Telephone Call

Elizabeth sat on the sofa; one leg crossed over the other as she listened to the reports coming from the television a few metres in front of her. Her mother was as per usual having her dinner next to her, joined by Margaret sitting across from them. Elizabeth had already had dinner, for once having shared the meal with the children who were now in bed.

Ever since Philip had left for the Royal tour, she had felt the need to spend more time with the children, surely to compensate for sending their father away for months on end. Philip had always been the more natural parent of the two, the one spending more time and playing with them. To Elizabeth, playing with the children had never been her favourite activity and with all her work she rarely spent much time with them during the weekdays.

Of course, she loved her children more than anything, but she had never felt like a natural mother as other women seemed to. With Philip gone though, she had felt the connection with Charles and Anne to be something of a comfort personally while she very much wanted them both to be happy and content. So, she had made it into a habit to join them in the playing room, listen to their talks and share more meals with them and help put them to bed. She even read books for them and tried to do silly voices as Charles called it. Because Philip usually did, and the children loved it.

“Your Majesty,” a voice said and interrupted her thoughts. She looked up to see the court martial approach her. “A telephone call for you, ma’am. The Duke of Edinburgh.”

Elizabeth raised her eyebrow in surprise and felt the eyes of her mother and sister on her, they obviously surprised as well. She felt a smile spread on her face and could not help the excitement building in her stomach. She had felt quite low lately, finding herself missing the company of her husband more than she had thought she would. Ever since Philip’s speech on Christmas and the film from Antarctica, the emptiness she felt had grown worse. Laying eyes on him after so many weeks and reading his handwriting had made her heart ache for him, and it had not stopped since.

Quickly shrugging the surprise off of her, she spoke to the man. “Thank you.” Standing up, Elizabeth turned to the other women and excused herself. She tried best she could to not let the other two see her vulnerability, holding herself together and making an effort to contain her smile. She knew they both loved Philip, but they had never quite understood him like she did. And her feelings for him had therefore also many times made Elizabeth feel misunderstood, and she had found she sometimes had to act down on them in order to keep their comments to a minimum.

Walking toward her study, she felt the tightness and nervousness grow in her chest. She knew it was a slight anguish she felt, a fear of him not being there on the other line. The last time Philip called the reception had been bad and the line was broken before she had a chance to speak to him. She tried to prepare herself for the disappointment that it would happen again.

“Hello,” she said into the phone, clearing her throat and taking a deep breath to calm herself. She saw the doble doors close behind her and as she finally heard the voice of her husband on the other side of the line, she beamed.

“Hello, darling,” Philip said, and she could almost hear his smirk and tried to picture him there on the other side of the world.

“Oh, it’s working,” she let out in surprise.

“Yes,” he said in his sleek voice and she imagined he was leaning against some kind of furniture where he was, making himself more comfortable. She did the same and rested against the wooden desk. “These bloody telephones actually do work from time to time.” He laughed and she chuckled, feeling herself relax.

“It’s so good to hear your voice,” she said and got somehow more serious, feeling her eyes water slightly. This small gesture, a phone call, had her feeling as if there was a huge weight lifted from her shoulders, warming her heart.

“Are you admitting to actually missing me,” Philip said in a lighter voice, always the one to lift the mood. Elizabeth did love that about him, how he could make her smile and how life was far from boring when Philip was with. Many times, people around them showed their annoyance at his sarcastic comments, and she sometimes felt that way also, but deep down she knew she could never live without any of it. And she had missed hearing his voice immensely lately, finding herself imagining in her head what his replies would be and smiling to herself while everybody around her was oblivious.

“What if I am,” she replied and soared as she felt their familiar banter come alive. “And what about you, having the time of your life in all corners of the world?” She asked the question in a somewhat playful voice, but also felt nervous about the actual answer.

Ever since Philip had left, she had not heard much from him at all. A failed telephone call, a few telegrams mostly including updates on their whereabouts and well-wishes for the children, but not more than that. Except from the footage from Antarctica, where he had been surprisingly heartfelt.

Philip sighed. “Well, even though parts of the tour is surprisingly interesting and the places we’ve been has been quite incredible, I, too, must admit to missing my wife.” He paused, and she desperately wished she could see the look on his face. “Lately, a bit more than I imagined, actually,” he admitted truthfully.

“You have,” Elizabeth asked, her voice quite emotional revealing more vulnerability than she was comfortable with.

“Yes,” Philip started in a determined voice, “are you that surprised?”

“I don’t know. Maybe, but mostly happy to hear that I am not the only one feeling that way. Five months is incredibly long when all you want if for them to pass by, really. Did you get my letter,” she continued in an attempt to change the subject.

“Oh, yes.” She could hear him smile into the phone. “Made me think that I should grow a beard more often,” he chuckled.

Elizbeth blushed and cleared her throat, finding herself feel a bit embarrassed. “Really? I wonder what the reactions would be it you came home like that,” she said with a smile as she imagined the scenario. Her mother would be beside herself; Margaret would find it incredibly funny and Michael would uncomfortably try to work out how best to convince Philip to shave. “They were all quite surprised to see it, whereas I thought you looked like an explorer.” She smiled and added, “a very handsome explorer.”

“Five months really is a long time,” Philip sighed, and she felt her fingers go to the pearls around her neck. His words made the conversation shift, and she felt her chest tighten, her pulse quicken. “Trust me, it’s not only the sharing of bed I miss, but I’d really do anything to be with you right now.”

“Philip,” she said in a surprised voice, while blushing more, suddenly very aware of her most private parts. She shifted on the desk, leaning one leg over the other.

“What,” he said innocently. “Can’t a husband share his desires for his wife? I am alone here, aren’t you?”

“Yes, yes,” she quickly said, voice shaky. “I’m alone.”

“That’s it then, good, no worries. Wouldn’t want anyone overhearing this conversation, now would we,” he smirked.

“Philip,” she whispered and felt the need to sit down. Her breathing quickened and she pressed her legs together as she sat on the chair by the desk.

“You sound tense, darling. If I was there, I’d give you a big smooch, but since I’m not, what can I do?”

Elizabeth swallowed, “Philip, we can’t.”

“Why not?”

Her eyes searched the room, even though she knew no one was there. “You know why not. And besides, I can’t.”

“You can,” he reassured her, like he so often had done when she needed help to escape her up tightness. “Now, if it’ll make it easier,” Philip said, and she could not help but roll her eyes at his determination. “Tell me where you are” he started. “And what you are wearing,” he added before, she imagined, leaning back into his seat and with amusement waiting for her reply.

Her face felt hot and she was sure there was a visible blush on her neck. Though she gave in. “I’m in my office,” she started and looked around at the familiar surroundings. She spent much of her time in here, and often had different people come to her with various notifications. She sincerely hoped that no one would get the idea to enter anytime soon, hoping the call from the Duke would keep them out until she gave them a sign that she was finished. She continued to play with the pearls around her neck, a nervous habit she had. “And I’m wearing my usual clothes, in blue.” As she spoke the words, she felt quite dull. Not much surprise there.

“Oh, blue, one of my favourite colours on you,” Philip said, seemingly not finding her dull at all, and she relaxed a bit. Philip always made her feel more comfortable, somewhat making her feel sexy through her shyness and sometimes up tight behaviour. “Like those gorgeous eyes I adore.”

Elizabeth shifted in her seat and felt a bit braver. “And you? Where is that handsome husband of mine?” She raised her eyebrow and wettened her lips, eager to hear his reply.

“Well, I’ve abandoned the suit onboard Britannia where the bloody phone does not work. Now in the Falkland Islands, we have loaned a quite nice house with a big garden. I’m in my room, supposed to rest after a whole day of shaking people’s hands and cutting ribbons.”

Elizabeth chuckled and then questioned, intrigued. “And what are you wearing?”

Philip laughed and spoke with playfulness in his voice. “I am wearing my robe, sitting in bed.” She imagined he knew he was teasing her, knowing how she was one of the people who knew he secretly preferred to sleep naked, even though he rarely did it at home in Buckingham palace anymore.

“And you just decided to give me a call before going to bed?”

“I did have a dream about you, actually. And have been thinking about it the whole day.”

“Yeah, what about?” Elizabeth felt warm inside, happy to hear that she had been in his thoughts.

“Traveling together. Yesterday we were greeted into this house and I was reminded of the house we stayed at in Kenya, before your father’s passing. Where we visited Treetops.”

Elizabeth smiled, remembering the wonderful time they had had there. Before their whole world changed. “That was a wonderful trip, before, you know. I was so happy and so in love with you.”

“Me, too. It was just us there, our own special place of the world.”

“It was.” Elizabeth suddenly laughed. “Remember when you saved me from that elephant?”

Philip joined her laugher. “I did do that. It was quite terrifying.”

“It was,” Elizabeth concluded, and gave a sigh. “I miss that time.”

“Yes,” Philip agreed, and a quiet understanding consumed them both. It had been a time before life as they knew it now, with duty and obligations – a time where they could be more of a normal couple. As normal as they could be anyway, given their circumstances. Elizabeth still remembered the incredible loss she had felt, and guilt, for taking away her and Philip’s wonderful life even though she knew it had not been her fault. She seldom let herself think about the what if’s, or imagine what their life could have been. It was not constructive. And there was no going back. They had both signed up for this life together, and in many ways, it was also an incredible life. Only different.

“Philip,” Elizabeth said after a while, interrupting their walk down memory lane, and when he made a sound to let her know he was listening, she continued. “I know I don’t say it much, but I do still love you very much, adore you even. But you must know that, right?”

She thought she could hear his smile over the phone. “Yes, I know,” Philip said, his voice soft and reassuring. Elizabet had never doubted her love and adoration for her husband, she did not remember a time not loving him. The love had never been the problem, even though it might seem like it for anyone else. Maybe she should say it more often, she thought. Yet they were both not very emotional people, and they rarely exchanged words of affection. So, Elizabeth was glad he knew how she felt about him.

Philip continued, maybe also finding that the distance of the telephone made the words come easier. “I feel the same way. Even though I sometimes act like an idiot, I have always loved you, Lilibet. And I believe that it is my destiny that I always will.”

#the crown #queen elizabeth ii #prince philip + queen elizabeth #duke of edinburgh #claire foy + matt smith #matt smith #claire foy #fanfic

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ahtohallan-calling · 4 years

Text

chapter 6 of don’t read the last page is here!

[kristanna / m / multichap / modern au with actress!anna and vetstudent!kristoff]

note: this chapter is rated m. in the interest of keeping this blog SFW, an edited, t-rated version is below the cut, but if you want to read the whole thing, follow the ao3 links above!

“Hey, Kris,” she whispered.

“Hey, Anna. Welcome home.”

chapter 6: soap

Kristoff had made her promise to try and sleep on the plane, but that was impossible, really, considering they took off at only 10 A.M. and there were so many movies to watch and so many snacks to try and-- more importantly-- he was waiting for her on the other side.

Honey was sitting beside and for once had let up on her good-natured teasing; Anna had a feeling the other woman knew she was getting more and more nervous about getting back to L.A. She’d been looking forward to this day for what felt like ages, but she couldn’t help feeling apprehensive; what if Kristoff saw her and all the chemistry just evaporated? Or what if he was already over it and didn’t show up to the airport at all? Or what if--

A nudge against her elbow jolted her out of her worries. “Hey,” Honey said softly. “What’s that big frown about?”

She quickly slid a smile onto her face. “Frowning? I’m not--”

“Anna, I’ve spent almost every morning the last month and a half looking at your face. Trust me, I know when something’s up.”

Anna let out a sigh. “I just...I guess I don’t really know what to expect. You know?”

“With Kristoff?”

“Yeah.”

Honey leaned back in her seat, looking thoughtful. Anna had spilled out their entire history to her over the dozens of hours she’d spent in her hair and makeup chair, and she was immensely grateful for the other woman’s friendship throughout the whole film shoot; she’d been an anchor during one of the most overwhelming times in her life. Feeling suddenly sentimental, she reached over and squeezed her friend’s hand.

Honey grinned and squeezed back. “What’s that for? I didn’t even give you some of my trademark brilliant advice yet.”

“You don’t have to. I’m just grateful to you for listening to me.”

“Hey, you’re an actress. Normally people pay for the privilege.”

Anna pretended to gag, and Honey laughed. “Okay, okay. Seriously, though, Anna, you’ve been a good friend, too. Sometimes people will go, like, a whole shoot without even learning my name.”

“Gross.”

“Yeah, seriously.”

“We’re still going to hang out once we’re back in LA, though, right?”

“Um, hell yes.”

“And you’re still going to go on a date with my sister?” Anna asked with a devilish wink.

Honey just laughed. “Only if you promise to still hang out with me when it inevitably goes terribly.”

---

The others had warned her that paparazzi would likely be waiting in the arrivals lobby; while Anna was by no means a big enough star to really worry about it, there was still a decent chance she might end up in the background of someone else’s photo or that a picture might end up in the tabloids once the movie came out, so she’d thrown a sundress into her carryon to change into just in case-- and a pair of running shorts to wear underneath in case of any wardrobe malfunctions.

She slipped into the bathroom to change about an hour before they landed, grateful that the first class bathroom was at least a little bigger than the one in economy. But as it turned out, no matter where you sat on a plane, if you were on there for eleven hours and hadn’t slept a wink, you’d end up looking pretty rough.

Anna bit her lip nervously as she pulled her hair back into a French braid to try and make it look somewhat presentable. Her face, though, was an absolutely lost cause. She’d brought a little tube of mascara with her and tried swiping some on, but even that didn’t make much of a difference. You’ll be lucky if Kris doesn’t take one look and run away screaming, she thought morbidly before letting out a near-silent groan and burying her face in her hands.

He’d seen her first thing in the morning and as she crawled into bed; even before she had left LA he’d seen her crying on the floor and her most unflattering giant t-shirt, but for some reason now she couldn’t shake the fear that he would see her and suddenly change his mind, that once he saw her in person again everything would change.

Eventually the “fasten seatbelt” sign pinged back on, and she abandoned hope of making herself presentable. She settled back into her seat, chewing on her bottom lip and hoping everyone else assumed she was just nervous about the plane landing.

And then at last they were on the ground, and she was back in LA for the first time in six weeks, and she was grabbing her carryon and walking through the gate and then immigration and then the baggage claim with everyone, and then suddenly she was hugging Honey goodbye, and a bright pop of light flooded her vision.

She felt her friend’s arms tighten around her. “Jesus, never get used to that shit,” Honey muttered.

“Oh-- they weren’t kidding about the paparazzi, were they?”

“Nah. And Adam just walked up, so if I were you I’d make a quick exit before more of them show up.”

Honey gave her one last squeeze before pulling away. “Good luck with everything, okay? Text me if you need to talk.”

“I-- I will, have a good summer,” she said with a half-hearted wave before turning back to face the crowds of people in the arrivals hall, trying to spot Kristoff’s head above the crowd.

Another flash went off, and then suddenly a whole cluster of them as Adam walked past, waving at the crowds with practiced ease. Anna squinted against the light, temporarily blinded as she tried to fight the rising fear that he wasn’t there, that he hadn’t bothered to show up at all, or that the whole thing had been a dream.

And then, all of a sudden, she heard her name and turned to the left, and there he was, holding a bouquet of sunflowers and grinning so broadly her fears suddenly melted away. She’d imagined this moment over and over again, had thought she would run to him, jump right into his arms and kiss him, or maybe tackle him and just have her way with him then and there, or maybe he’d grab her and dip her down low and kiss her, or maybe she’d just burst into tears.

None of that happened; instead she just made her way over to him, her heart pounding harder with every step, and the moment he was within arms’ reach she dropped the handles of her suitcases and hugged him around the waist as tightly as she could, resting her head against his chest and inhaling the clean, woodsy smell of him.

Kristoff held her back just as tightly; she could feel his heart racing beneath her cheek and smiled. “Hey, Kris,” she whispered.

“Hey, Anna. Welcome home.”

She pulled back from him just enough that her eyes met his, and then she was rising up on her toes and he was leaning down and then he was kissing her so sweetly she wondered how she had ever worried about this.

At last he pulled away, wearing a dopey grin. “I, uh, I got you flowers.”

“Oh! I saw!”

She pulled away from him just enough to take the bouquet. “You remembered sunflowers are my favorite.”

“Of course.”

She threw her arms around his neck this time, kissing him so hard she heard someone in the crowd wolf whistle, and they both pulled away, red-faced and sheepish. “So, um,” Kristoff asked, leaning his forehead against hers, “where do you want me to take you? Home, I guess?”

“Your apartment.”

He sucked in a breath. “I-- you-- I-- you weren’t kidding about that?”

“Nope. Not even a little bit.”

“Jesus, Anna, then what the hell are we waiting around here for?”

He grabbed the handles of both of her suitcases, and she followed him with a laugh, holding tight to her sunflowers in one hand and letting the other rest lightly on the back of his arm. “Sven’s not home, right?”

“Nah, won’t be til after six. He, uh, he’s a bank teller.”

“No way. He has, like, an actual grown-up career?”

Kristoff huffed out a laugh. “Believe me, I ask myself the same thing every day.”

She knew the polite thing to do once they got to his car was help him put her suitcases in the trunk, but that would have meant forgoing the chance to watch the muscles in his arms flex as he lifted them with ease, so instead she stood to the side and admired the view, feeling a little thrill run down to her spine and settle into the beginnings of a flame somewhere deep inside her. The second he’d slammed the trunk door shut, she pulled him down into a kiss again, this time not holding back, bystanders be damned.

Kristoff responded with equal enthusiasm, fisting his hands in the back of her dress and pulling her flush against him. He caught her lower lip between his teeth, and a little moan escaped her; it was only then that he pulled away, slightly out of breath.

“Warn me if you see any police cars on the way, okay?” he asked her, still keeping her pressed against his chest as he kissed her forehead. “Because I’m definitely speeding the whole way there.”

She spent most of the ride to his apartment wishing she’d taken the production company up on their offer of a taxi so she could have spent the trip in the backseat on Kristoff’s lap. By the way a flush was slowly creeping up his neck, he knew exactly what she was thinking about. At a particularly crowded intersection, she yawned, stretching her arms over her head and arching her back; she could feel Kristoff’s gaze on her the whole time and turned to him afterward with a smirk.

“Enjoying the show?”

He didn’t respond, just reached over and set his hand on her leg, just below where the hem of her dress had ridden up. His thumb rubbed maddeningly against the silky skin of her leg, still lingering there as he looked away and started driving again, and now it was her turn to stare.

She’d missed that face; video calls just didn’t do it justice, the way the afternoon sunlight illuminated the gold in his hair and brought out the scattered freckles on his nose. A hint of stubble peppered his jaw; god, she wanted to kiss him there, right at the corner of it, trail her lips down to his pulse point and over his throat and to his collarbone and--

She couldn’t help it. At the next light, she reached down and put her hand over his where it rested on her thigh. Kristoff’s hand tightened around her leg, and a little whimper escaped her.

His eyes slid to meet hers, his thumb circling one last time before he pulled away. She pouted at the loss of contact, and he rolled his eyes affectionately. “Anna, if you don’t stop, I’m going to have to stop this car behind an abandoned warehouse or something.”

“Would that be so bad?”

“Yes. Call me old-fashioned, but I’d rather do this in bed. The first time, at least.”

The first time. She couldn’t help but smile. “God, Kris, you really are romantic about everything, aren’t you?”

“Not everything. Only you.”

Well-- maybe she could hold off a little longer. It wasn’t easy, though; by the time he finally parked at his building Anna had to fight the urge to clamber over the console and straddle his lap. Instead, she scrambled out of the car, not caring about her suitcases, and ran around the front to meet him as he emerged.

Kristoff was laughing at first, but then she tugged him down by the collar and kissed him thoroughly, her tongue flicking over his lower lip before she pulled away, grabbing his hand. “Okay. I think I can make it now.”

“What--”

“Hurry up,” she whined, and he followed after her with a trace of laughter.

He paused as they walked into the lobby, a little frown appearing on his forehead. “Ah, shit, I forgot the elevator’s down."

“Jesus, we’ve got the worst luck. Third floor, though, right? Not too bad.”

She leaned up on her toes, pressing up against him as she kissed him once more, her lips parting with a contented sigh. He groaned from somewhere deep in his chest, the sound rumbling against her, and slid his hands down her back, tugging her even closer against him.

“Anna,” he panted, “you’re going to kill me before we even get upstairs, you know that?”

“God, I hope not. I’m nowhere near finished with you.”

She pulled away from him and darted merrily up the first flight of stairs, pausing only for a moment to peer back and make sure he was following before she continued, because frankly, she’d waited long enough.

Once they were finally on the right floor, she leaned back against his door as he fumbled in his pocket for the key; the moment he was within arms’ reach she slid her hands up under the hem of his shirt, smirking when she felt him suck in a deep breath under her exploratory touch. He leaned down to slant his mouth across hers in an open-mouthed kiss as he pushed the door open; she started to stumble, but he caught her, crushing her against his broad chest.

“Hang on,” he mumbled against her mouth, kicking the door shut behind him, and Anna laced her fingers behind his neck as he lifted her off the ground. She wrapped her legs around his waist as he started carrying her towards his bedroom.

---

“We’re like, doing that again later, right?” Anna asked with a yawn.“When I’m not jetlagged.”

Kristoff pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. “Whatever you want.”

“I promise I’m not going to fall asleep now. I know you’ve got work later, so I’m gonna make the most of it, I just gotta-- gotta--” She yawned again. “Gotta lay here for a minute. That was a workout.”

He threw an arm over her waist, pulling her close against his chest. She went gladly, nestling her face against the warmth of his shoulder. “I took today off.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Traded my shift with someone.”

“You big ol softy,” she mumbled, turning her head to press a kiss against the crook of his neck.

“Yeah, yeah, just don’t tell Sven.”

“Oh, he knows. We talk about you all the time.”

“....no you don’t. You’re kidding, right? Please tell me you are.”

“Mmmm...no, I don’t think I will tell you.”

He groaned, but she could hear the smile in his voice. “What am I gonna do with you, huh?”

“Keep holding me, preferably, while I take a nap. I’ll be fast, I promise.”

“I guess I can do that,” he whispered. “Sweet dreams.”

She was already fast asleep.

---

Anna wasn’t sure what time it was when she woke up again, but she did know that as wonderful as it felt to be wrapped in Kristoff’s arms, she really needed to take a shower. She pressed a drowsy kiss to his cheek and felt him stir against her.

“‘Swrong, baby?” he mumbled, not opening his eyes as he nuzzled his nose against her cheek.

Something warm blossomed in her chest; she pressed another kiss to his jaw. “Can I use your shower?”

“Mhmm.”

When she tried to pull away, though, his arms only tightened around her. “Kris, you have to actually let go of me.”

“Mmf...oh, sorry,” he mumbled, opening his eyes at last as he shifted away from her. “Towels are in there, just don’t use the blue one. Trust me.”

She slid out of bed and pulled her dress on just in case Sven had come home while they’d been sleeping. “Why are you this tired?”

“Couldn’t sleep last night. Too excited.”

The warmth in her chest was only growing. She’d been halfway out the door, but at his words she turned back and leaned down to kiss him as he sat up.

“Need help in the shower?” he asked with a grin, and she laughed.

“No, I actually seriously need to wash my hair. Go back to sleep, okay?”

He yawned and looked so sweet doing it she couldn’t help but kiss his forehead one last time. “If you insist.”

She tiptoed quietly down the hallway, letting out a sigh of relief when she caught sight of the clock in the kitchen and saw it was just after one. The bathroom was sparse, as she’d expected, but they did at least have shampoo and bodywash, and when she picked up a bottle and caught a whiff of the scent she was quickly coming to associate with Kristoff, she grinned and used it, wondering if he would notice.

When she’d finished and darted back out into the hall in her towel, she could hear him banging around in the kitchen; she slipped back into his bedroom and realized suddenly that they’d left both of her suitcases in the car. She spotted a half-open drawer in his wardrobe and went over with a smile, taking out one of his old college t-shirts and pulling it on over her head. It went nearly down to her knees; she was tempted to go out wearing nothing else but instead slipped back into the shorts she’d worn under the sundress, letting her hair hang damp and loose over her shoulders.

Kristoff was too focused on whatever was on the stove to notice when she came in, so she hopped up to sit on the counter top and sidled into his field of vision, feeling a little flutter in her chest when she noticed he was wearing his glasses again and another when she realized he’d gone back out to the car and brought in the sunflowers for her and put them in a cup of water. “Good morning, sleepyhead,” he said with a little smile that quickly turned into a stunned expression when he actually turned and looked at her.

Anna bit her lip, feeling suddenly self-conscious. “You don’t mind that I borrowed this, right? It’s just my clothes are still--”

He came over, placing his arms on either side of the counter around her, and leaned in to kiss her, so fiercely she thought she might melt away then and there. After a moment he pulled away, a glazed look in his eyes, and wrapped his arms around her waist, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

“Anna?”

“Hmm?” she asked, combing her fingers gently through his hair.

“Did you use my soap, too?”

“Mmhmm,” she whispered, and he groaned against her collarbone before pressing an open-mouthed kiss there, his teeth scraping lightly over her skin.

It was suddenly hard to breathe. “Kris-- whatever you’re cooking-- it’s going to burn,” she managed to gasp out.

“Goddammit. And I used my good cheese in those, too.”

He pulled away with a sorrowful look in his eye to flip the sandwiches in the pan, and she couldn’t help but laugh. “It’ll be okay. We’ve got all afternoon, and the day after that, and after that--”

He glanced back at her, looking suddenly pensive. “We do, don’t we?”

She nodded. “So...what’s next?”

“Well, I still have a few more scenes to film in the studio here...and then interviews...and then more auditions...and then TV spots...and then maybe awards shows…”

A little smile had started to appear on his face when he realized she was teasing him, and it grew with each word.

“But more importantly, I’m going to spend so much time with my boyfriend he’s going to get sick of me--”

“Not likely.”

Anna smiled and held her arms out to him. He came to her, wrapping his arms tightly around her waist once more, and she pressed a kiss into his hair. “And then we’ll make up the rest of it as we go along.”

#YALL ARE WELCOME!!!!!!!!!#the smuttiest thing ive ever done (its still not quite smut but w/e)#my fics #drtlp

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randomguywithwords · 4 years

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As The Dust Settles: Chapter 10 (Dabi x Geten Slowburn)

Previous Chapters: 9, 8, 7, 6, 5, 4, 3, 2, 1

––––––

Dabi spent his Friday evening slouched over the counter, occasionally sipping from his whiskey. The bar was quite empty for a Friday night, with only a few customers scattered around the chairs and stools.

“Hey,” Dabi called. The bartender, a man who looked to be in his mid-thirties, looked at him.

“What else can I get for you, sir?” He asked politely.

“Is this place usually this empty at this time?” Dabi swept an arm around as a gesture.

The bartender chuckled. “If anything, I gained more customers, probably thanks to you lot. You’re part of the League, right?”

“Were, I suppose,” Dabi said boredly, but straightening up to rest his head on his palm. “Why?”

“You guys defeating the army depressed the hell out of some of ‘em. Usually their doctrine frowns upon drinking – something about wasting their days when they could be practicing, but after their commander was overthrown, I saw a big turnout that night. Largest I’ve ever had.”

“You keep saying them…” Dabi frowned, recalling something Hanabata had said. “Are you the 10% of people in Deika who aren’t part of the army?”

“Damn right. I’ve no intention of joining their crazy mission.” The bartender looked at a customer at one of the tables, nodded, and started to prepare a drink. “Only thing that sucks is getting caught in the crossfire.”

“Ah.” Dabi took another sip. “You look alright for a guy whose city was nearly destroyed.”

The bartender waved his hand dismissively, the other placing the finished drink on the counter for collection. “I ain’t talking about what Shigaraki did. I like the guy. He taught these delusional people a lesson. My problem…” He leaned in slightly closer, lowering his voice. “Is with the army themselves.”

“Really? I thought you would hate me and the League,” Dabi said.

“I got no issue with you folks. But I hate the soldiers. Especially the ice-man. Apocrypha, or whatever his name is.”

“Huh.” Was Dabi’s response, though his mind was whirling. He didn’t need that girl on his mind, though he was curious enough to ask, “What’s wrong with him?”

“He’s merciless, cruel. I don’t know if you saw, but during the fight, I heard from some of these guys here, he took out so many of his guys just to get rid of the army of clones from Bubaigawara Jin.”

“Right…” Dabi’s mind flashed back to that glacier that sent entire houses into the air, along with the blood of both Twice’s clones and the Liberation Army. He was both disgusted and awed by the audacity of that move. Now, he felt more disturbed than anything. “Yeah, I was there. You were safe?”

“Yeah, my house was on the other side of the city. I didn’t go out that day when I saw all the soldiers marching towards the centre. Wherever the army gathers, it’s good to not go there,” The bartender said. He paused, and then added grimly, “Some of my friends didn’t heed that advice.”

“Oh.” Dabi swallowed. The statement sounded like a backhand threat or a lash of anger, but looking at the man’s face, he strangely did not detect any sign of hatred.

“Honestly, they got what they deserved.” He gave a smile, pouring two glasses of whiskey and passing one to Dabi. “It’s on the house. I haven’t had a good talk in a long time.”

“Cheers.” Dabi grinned. The glasses clinked, and the two took a good gulp of the burning liquor.

“Is it dangerous here?” Dabi said as he set down his glass on the countertop.

“Pah, not really. Until last week, the army hadn’t really done anything, only train over and over again. At least, that’s what I could see. Maybe underground, they’ve been up to something, but I’ll be honest – I doubt they ever had plans to expand.”

“Yeah,” Dabi said non-committedly, thinking about the plans Shigaraki had laid out, taken from Re-destro’s strategies.

“And honestly, I couldn’t leave even if I wanted to. They wouldn’t let me.” The bartender grimaced, taking another gulp. “Not that it’s illegal, but the leaders – those guys in that tower, they make it sound illegal, so everyone knows it’s illegal. You get what I mean?”

Dabi nodded slowly. He had to admit, the way Re-destro and his lieutenants kept Deika city controlled was impressive: Not with an iron fist, but soft, persuasive whispers. Noting that this man here was likely subjugated by them in all by thought, he asked a question.

The question was probably influenced by the thoughts in his head, and the alcohol. “About that gi – guy, Apocrypha, what’s he like?”

The bartender’s expression tightened, and Dabi wondered if he’d touched on something personal – Apocrypha had apparently killed his friends, though he hadn’t seemed very affected by it.

“Whoever that man is under that hood, he’s a monster. I’ve grown up here my whole life, and I’ve never seen a soldier so addicted to the cause. Now, I’m no soldier, but even I understand the camaraderie that soldiers should share. Apocrypha has no feelings. He kills people to achieve his goals…” The bartender leaned in closer, till Dabi could smell the whiskey on his breath. “And I’m not talking about what happened last week, but what he’s been doing since he joined.”

“What d’you mean?” Dabi asked, a sense of foreboding sending a chill down his spine, while his stomach bubbled with curiosity and trepidation.

“Hey, Dabi!” A cheerful voice made him and the bartender look at the man who had just entered. The crimson wings made it obvious.

“Hey, Hawks.” Dabi waved. The hero walked up to them.

“You want anything, Hawks?” The bartender asked.

“I’m good, thanks man.” Hawks replied, eliciting a nod from him. While the bartender busied himself with washing some glasses, Dabi turned around on his stool to face Hawks.

“What’s up?” Dabi said.

“Some people are looking for you.” Hawks glanced around, noting the few other customers within earshot. He gestured towards the exit.

Sighing, Dabi gulped down the last of his drink, thanked the bartender and left with Hawks.

–––––––

A few hours ago...

Shigaraki knocked aside Dabi’s raised arm with a backhand. “I let you go your own way because I don’t believe in ordering you guys around, but now that I’m leading more than a small group, I’m changing my style. You’re settling things with Apocrypha, got it?”

The two stared at each other with cold fury for a second, before Dabi spat, “Fine.” and spun on his heel to exit the room.

Shigaraki watched Dabi leave the council room. Once the door was shut, he sat down on his chair and tapped his earpiece. “Still there, Ujiko?”

“You actually sounded convincing,” The doctor’s voice came in reply. “Not the Dabi-Apocrypha thing. The plan you gave them. I almost believed it myself.”

“Good, it’ll throw them off the scent for a while. I trust you’ve kept up your end of the deal?” Shigaraki said.

“Yes. Come. I’ll show you everything.” At this, Shigaraki felt the build-up of that muck in his mouth. He’d experienced it so many times he no longer gagged or retched.

The mossy-green ooze expanded and enveloped him. He lost vision temporarily as the nauseating feeling churned for a second before disappearing. He blinked, finding himself in Ujiko’s lab. The doctor himself stood before him. No chair, nothing shrouding him from sight, just him standing with his lab coat and silver glasses.

“Tomura Shigaraki, Kyudai Garaki. It’s a pleasure to work with you.” He gave a nod of respect. “You and All For One are the only two that know my true name. I trust that you’ll keep it that way.”

–––––

Plot stuff, getting a bit dry I know, especially if you’re here for Dabiten. You might not like next chapter if that’s the case, but it’ll hopefully set up the premise much better so you get a general idea of how the plot is going. And yeah, I’m aware that 10 chapters in is a horrible time to establish even more premise to the story. My excuse of first draft isn’t exactly great. So uh, fault taken.

Flow-wise, I actually don’t really like this jumping back chronologically. I think in an edited version, the 2nd scene in this chapter would be the chapter 7/8, so right after the meeting (c7) goes into this Shigaraki POV. So yeah, reading it might be a bit dissatisfactory in terms of pacing, but bear with this first draft for now. I’ll change it when it’s time.

Also, I’m happy to say that I finally planned out Dabi’s backstory, so now the issue is writing it out in a way that doesn’t break this flow. I used to do flashbacks as an independent scene with line breaks at both ends, but I personally feel that it’s lazy writing now. If I can’t think of any decent way to transition into Dabi’s past, then I might go back to what I mentioned.

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jacksonroseroth · 5 years

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Waste Love Chapter 1

A/N: This is my first MGK/Colson Baker fic. I’m not too immersed in the fandom, so some of my scenes might be wrong/off character. Let me know. Correct me. This is only my first one. :) Hope you like it.

Warnings: Swearing, Weed Usage

Words: 4,747

Moodboard by @badwolf-in-the-impala, none of the pictures are ours

Jersey lounged on the couch in the bus, earbuds in as she listened to music while editing. Propped up by the armrest of the couch, with her knees up, she rested her laptop on her thighs, editing the pictures she took from last night’s show. Being Rook’s visiting cousin had its advantages. Not only did Colson hook her up with a pretty sweet bunk; Big enough that she could comfortably sit up a little more while on her computer. He also began to let her take pictures at a few shows, field testing her as the band’s photographer.

Her own photography business was slow goings to get it completely up and running--At the moment it was stumbling downhill--And she was desperate to get out of, not only New Jersey, but the States in general. She had other freelance jobs and had traveled all over the country, but never outside. When she called up her cousin, Rook, needing a good laugh and a change of pace, Rook invited her to one of their last shows in the U.S., at EST Fest, before they headed off to the European leg of the Hotel Diablo tour.

Armed with the knowledge that she was going to be backstage at a Machine Gun Kelly concert, she remembered to bring her camera this time, every other visit was so last minute it was the last thing on her mind. She brought it, not only to capture backstage shenanigans but to finally get the pictures she wanted of Rook in his element. After showing them around the next day, Colson got a good look at them and asked her to come on tour with them to do a few shows.

Jersey decided to skip every other show, not only to give her a break from the madness, not fully realizing what she had gotten herself into, but she often found herself needing the 3 uninterrupted hours to edit the thousands of pictures she ended up taking. As she finished the last few pictures from the show in Tokyo, she felt the vibrations of music fade away. Pulling out an earbud, she heard Colson’s final goodbye to the crowd and smirked. When she heard they were going to be at the Leeds and Reading Festivals, Jersey was determined to only work during the Leeds show, while Colson performed, then join everyone afterward. She took a few minutes to put everything away; Her camera and cords, along with her laptop, stowing them in her bunk, before grabbing an old looking book and opened it. It was a false book and was filled with all possible manner of marijuana; Edibles, cartridges, joints, flower, and rolling papers. She grabbed a small baggie of gummies, two joints, and a lighter before flipping the book shut and putting it back.

She hurried out of the bus, jumping down the steps and waving to their bus driver, who sat out in the sun while she worked. She pulled her VIP badge out from her back pocket and put the lanyard around her neck as she approached the security gate. Though she had been there earlier in the day and the guards all knew who she was with, she still flashed them the badge as she strolled through, tossing them a sweet smile. Jersey weaved through the tents until she heard a sudden and wild Rook scream. Her head whipped around just as her cousin came tumbling into view, closely followed by Colson, laughing. Rolling her emerald eyes and tossing her dark hair over her shoulder, Jersey turned and headed for the group as they made their way through the crowd toward her.

“Oi! You fuckers better not be having fun without me.” She called, once they were in earshot. Rook turned, quickly, and smiled, chasing down his cousin to scoop her up in a hug.

“There you are! It’s about time.” Rook said, setting her down and kissing her cheek.

“Hey, the guy doesn’t pay me to not work,” Jersey said, breaking away from Rook to give Colson a quick hug before moving onto the others. Colson shrugged, looking at Rook and said, “It’s true.” He laughed and hooked an arm around Rook’s neck once he got close, rubbing his knuckles on the top of his head.

“Get off, fucker!” Rook yelled, shoving his friend away while he laughed.

“Hey, Picture Girl. About time you joined us.” Slim said, putting an arm around her to give her a side hug. “I thought you were gonna stay on the bus.”

“Nah, just until I finished the pictures,” Jersey said. Slim chuckled and nodded as he said, “Aight. How they look?”

“Not to toot my own horn, but... Guys? They’re kind of fucking amazing, okay? I’ve got a gift.” Jersey said in a fake Valley Girl voice. The guys laughed and continued along to their tent. Jersey sat next to Rook, leaning against him, and handed him one of the joints she brought, along with the lighter. Rook took it without question and lit it. As she tucked her feet under her, she opened the baggie of gummies and popped one in her mouth before passing it to Colson as he walked past. He looked through it before passing it down to Baze, who immediately popped two into his mouth, and Colson took the joint from Rook, taking a toke.

“Fuck yeah, man. Whose joint is this?” Colson asked, looking around at his group. Jersey smirked at him. Colson smirked and pointed at her, briefly. “Hell yeah, Sav. Come through. James send you some stuff from California?”

“Of course. But this is the stuff I got from Rosie out in Nevada, last time she visited her family.” Jersey said. Colson made a funny face and laughed as he took one more puff before passing it to the next person.

The next 7 hours went by like a blur of smoke, laughing, music, and food. Within the last half hour or so Jersey sobered up enough to lead her drunken herd back to the bus so they could make their way down to Reading for the next show. Once they cleared the gate and the rest of Colson’s crew, that wasn’t intoxicated, had them, Jersey skipped over to the bus and hopped on. She only had a few minutes before chaos boarded the bus again, as she knew the guys would take a while, sobering a little too much for their liking and needing a minute.

She hurried to her bunk and grabbed her stash, then went to the table, setting herself up, to roll a few extra joints with the kief she had left. By this point in the tour, Jersey had their routine down pat: By the time they all clamored onto the bus, Jersey had a joint or two lit, ready to be passed around. She had, by now, become more than just their photographer, supplying them with their first round of whatever drink each man asked for just so they could settle into relaxing a little quicker. Just as Jersey rolled the last blunt, she lit it as the doors opened and the drunk buzz of conversation climbed onto the bus. She smiled as Rook came to sit with her, going through her stash.

“Yes, Rook. Go ahead and take what you want.” Jersey teased, blowing smoke in his face. Rook snickered as he popped two gummies into his mouth with a wink.

“Thanks, cuz.” Rook said, quickly leaving the booth. Jersey shook her head as Colson entered the bus. He made a beeline for Jersey and the outstretched hand that offered the joint.

“Fuck, we need you here full time,” Colson smirked, taking a toke before passing it on.

“You think that now. We’re only 5 shows deep, babe.” Jersey laughed as she packed up the box, leaving two joints up for grabs. Colson chuckled and sat on the couch as Jersey stowed her stash back in her bunk before coming out and asking for drink requests.

Ever the hostess, even when she was a guest on the tour, she was a grateful one. Jersey made use of the one semester of bartending classes and slung drinks across the bus. Once each man had a drink in their hand, she went to sit next to Colson, who just got passed the joint. She waited until he took a hit, then plucked it from between his fingers and took a toke herself.

“Hey, so how was the show?” Jersey asked the room, it only just having occurred to her she never asked earlier. As she tried to decipher the loud, excited, and numerous answers, she shook her head and curled into Colson’s side, passing him the joint. “So, how was the show?”

This time, she directed the question to Colson, who put an arm around her with a chuckle, inhaling deeply before passing the joint.

“It was good. Dom was there. He came out for ‘I Think I’m Okay’. You just missed him when we found you. You should have come to this show, Savie.” Colson said. Jersey tried to hide the blush at the use of the childhood nickname he adopted from Rook. It was one that Papa Cap, Rook’s father, Johnny, gave her- ‘Savage’. Shifting in her spot, Jersey shrugged and said, “He’ll be in Reading on Sunday, right?”

“Yeah, that’s true. Hope it’s the same energy, though.” Colson said with a chuckle, smirking down at her. Jersey gave him a look.

“They always have energy, Kells.” She teased, making Colson smirk.

“Baze, man, move your fuckin’ feet, you fuckin’ ogre!” Rook said, kicking at the feet that were propping Baze up between both couches. Baze smirked and said, “Man, go sit somewhere else.”

“I want to sit next to my cousin, bitch! Move!” Rook shouted with a smirk. Jersey practically crawled into Colson’s lap, sensing the impending fight between Baze and Rook.

“So, fuckin’ kick Kells off the couch, punk-ass bitch.” Baze shot back with a smirk. Rook swiped at him and Baze lazily dodged the playful punch.

“Don’t bring me into this, Baze,” Colson warned, his lips twisting up.

“Stay the fuck out of it, Colson! Punk.” Rook shot as he snickered. Colson smirked and threw his empty Solo cup at him. “Don’t fuck with me, Baker!”

“Come at me, bro. Nah, fuckin’ come at me, Rook. I dare you.” Colson said. Colson had Jersey’s legs draped over his lap and she was tucked under his arm, as her new high began to set in.

“Dooooon’t…” Jersey whined, softly. Colson tightened his arm around her as he grabbed the pillow next to him and started swinging at him. Jersey kept protesting, though her voice was drowned out by Rook and Colson yelling over each other.

Finally, getting a little too rowdy, not to mention the fact that Rook took four straight shots of vodka before the bus even took off after taking the two gummies, he stumbled while trying to rip the pillow from Colson. Jersey shrieked as Rook’s too topped off drink tipped a little too far. The contents of his cup spilled all over her, drenching her hair completely.

A brief hush fell on the bus, then Colson scooped her up as he stood, setting her on her feet. “Shit. Jersey, are you okay?” Colson asked. Jersey pushed his hands away and tossed her alcohol-soaked locks over her shoulder and grabbed at Rook, punching his shoulder.

“Fuck, Rook! What the fuck?!” She cried. Baze quickly stood and shuffled to the side as she shoved Rook aside, hauling ass through the divider to their bunks and into the bathroom. Back in the front of the bus, AJ and Slim had begun to mop up the mess as Rook stumbled to the booth and sat down.

“Fuck.” He muttered, softly. Colson sighed and patted his shoulder as he made his way to check on Jersey. Closing the divider behind him to give them a little more privacy, he leaned next to the bathroom door and folded his arms. He waited a while longer before he knocked softly.

“Fuck off, Rook!” Jersey spat. Colson snickered and said, “Do you think he’s dumb enough to come back here? Fuck; You think he’s brave enough?”

Colson heard a soft sigh, then the sound of the locks unlatching and the door opened, slightly. The glare from her burning green eyes all he saw, she said, “What?” The word came out a little harsher than Jersey intended. Colson leaned over a little more to look at her, raising an eyebrow at her. Jersey sighed and opened the door fully, tightening the towel around her chest as she gave him a look as well.

Colson bit his lip, trying not to snicker. In a fit, Jersey rubbed a towel over her face to get the drink off her face, and in her haste to get away from everyone, she momentarily forgot she was wearing makeup. Her eyes were rubbed black and her cheeks were red and stained with makeup streaked tears and droplets of the spilled drink.

“Want me to wait for you?” He offered. Jersey shook her head and said, “Just bring me shorts and a tank top.”

“Ooh-hoo. No panties? Naughty girl.” Colson teased. Jersey shot him a look and said, “Is this the time for jokes?”

“Sorry,” Colson said softly with a snicker, turning to go to her bunk and pull out her bag to rummage through it. Finding what she requested, he put the bag back and sauntered back over to Jersey, handing her the clothes. Jersey took them and gave him a soft ‘Thanks’, then gave him a once over before she finally broke a smile and said, “Did you really think I was going to let you rummage through my panties?”

Colson laughed, softly, as she shut the door. He sighed and waited until he heard the shower start to run, before going back to her bunk, letting his legs hang over the side and laid back on the mattress, pulling out his phone. Half an hour later, the shower turned off and Colson watched the door, listening to the rustling as Jersey dried off and changed. Just as Colson went back to his phone, the door opened and she finally emerged, dragging a comb through her hair.

“Really? Why my bunk?” She asked, hitting his knee with her comb. Colson chuckled and sat up, making room for her to climb in next to him. Turning to her, both Colson and Jersey ended up facing each other, sitting crisscross. Jersey broke again and let out a soft giggle and shook her head. She glanced away from him, looking out the window, and finished combing her hair.

Colson leaned his head back against the wall and watched Jersey as she massaged a dollop of Biosilk into her damp hair. He kicked out a foot to nudge her and said, “Hey. You okay?”

Jersey looked at him and gave a shrug, grabbing one of her pillows and wrapping her arms around it. “I’ll beat his ass later...I mean...I’ll be fine.” She said with a light smile. The corners of Colson’s mouth lifted up a little higher, glad she was able to joke about it.

“Hey. Come here.” Shifting over and closing the small sliding door of her bunk to lean against it, Colson held out a hand to her. Jersey smiled and propped up her pillows to make them both comfortable as she shifted to lean against him. Jersey pushed open the curtains to watch the Leeds skyline pass by and Colson shifted to prop up his right leg, resting his arm on his knee. His other arm was wrapped around Jersey’s waist, comfortably resting his hand on her right thigh. As Jersey rested her head on his chest, her hands covered his and she felt a soft kiss on her temple. With a bigger smile, still watching the lights pass by, Jersey said, “Thanks, Colson. You always find a way to make me feel better.”

After kissing her temple, Colson pressed his lips against her hair, lightly. When she thanked him, Colson smiled and said, “I try.”

Jersey giggled softly before a hush fell on them, if only for a brief moment. For the next 3 hours, as they drove from Leeds to Reading, Jersey and Colson talked quietly to one another about every random thing they could think of. Just before the got to the hotel, once they finally pulled into Reading, Colson and Jersey both emerged to the front.

All conversation quieted as everyone kept an eye on Jersey and Rook, Rook’s smile slowly fading as he looked up at his cousin. It was an awkward silence until Colson yelled, “Skrrt! Make yourself scarce!”

Jersey rolled her eyes as the boys all scrambled over each other and back to their bunks to give them some time alone to talk. Jersey chuckled as she made her way over to the booth and sat across from him. Reaching for the last untouched joint, Rook handed her a lighter. Jersey lit it and took a hit, then sat back, watching her cousin.

Cracking a smile, she said, “You do that shit again, John Paul, and I swear to God, I will beat you with your own drumsticks.”

Rook smirked and said, “I love you too, Savie.” Jersey smirked and watched him as he stood, standing when he came to her. The pair hugged and Rook kissed her cheek, saying, “I’m sorry, Jersey.”

“Aww!!” Jersey grabbed a pillow from the couch and turned to the boys, but Colson rushed her, catching her waist and scooping her up to carry her to the couch as the others bum-rushed Rook. Jersey cried out as Colson kept her pinned down, hollering at his boys to get Rook. Jersey shoved Colson off and shouted, “Get fucking bent!”

Rook managed to wiggle his way out of the huddle and over to the couches. Colson punched Rook’s shoulder as he passed him. The cousins settled as everyone else fell back into their usual last-minute shenanigans for the last half hour of the drive.

Once they pulled up to the hotel, they all clamored out of the bus, dying for some real beds and comfort. Checking into their suite, they all claimed beds, AJ and Rook fighting for the last window spot. Once the bed situation was solved, they bust out one last bottle of alcohol and had a little more fun.

Music played as they got into their usual shenanigans. Jersey sat with Baze and AJ as they talked amongst themselves, trying to ignore Colson and Rook as they tore around the place. Around 4 in the morning, Jersey tapped out and went to the other room, pulling the blinds shut and snuggling into the blankets, scrolling through her phone for a while longer. The door opened as she set her phone down, ready to go to sleep. She looked over as AJ walked in and over to his bags that sat on the bed he would share with Rook.

“Going to bed?” She teased, snuggling to get comfortable with a smirk.

“Nah. The Energizer Bunny twins out there are still going.” AJ chuckled, rummaging through his bag. He glanced at Jersey then to the door and said, “Hey. So, what’s going on with you and Colson, anyway?”

Jersey turned over and sat up a little more and said, “Going on? What are you talking about?”

AJ stopped and raised an eyebrow with a chuckle. “Well, after tonight...I mean, dude was gone for 3 hours. Y’all were in the bunks when he could have been out with us partying.” AJ said. Jersey pursed her lips slightly and said, “I mean, he was comforting me…”

AJ chuckled and sat on the end of her bed. “Nah, Sav, nah. I get that. We all do. Shit, Rook felt so bad he stopped drinking and smoking, till you came back out.” AJ said. Jersey added her own, “Not that he didn’t have enough shit in his system.”

AJ snickered and nodded his head a little, then said, “True. But I mean, when have you known Colson to voluntarily skip partying on the bus?”

Rook and Jersey had always been close, so when he joined up as Machine Gun Kelly’s drummer, she started hanging out with them when they were home in Ohio the same time she was or if they came through New Jersey. Because of this, she had gotten to know the guys a lot over the years. Thinking back, AJ was right. Unless it was an important reason or an emergency, Colson never missed a chance to party. With a shrug Jersey replied, as she laid back down, “Maybe he just felt really bad? I dunno. You’d have to ask him.”

AJ chuckled and patted her leg as he stood. “Aight, Save. Whatever you say, baby. Get some rest. We want you bright-eyed and bushy-tailed at the show.” He teased. Jersey waved at him, getting comfortable again, and offered a soft, ‘Night. Have fun.’ Followed by a louder, “Don’t let those idiots kill themselves...Or each other!”

AJ tossed his head back and laughed as he closed the door. Jersey giggled and closed her eyes, drifting to sleep. If only for a few hours. When Colson, AJ, and Rook finally stumbled in, 2 hours later, Jersey let out a soft whimper at the disturbance and shifted under the blankets. Colson shifted Rook’s arm on his shoulder, trying to stand him up.

“You got him?” Colson whispered, taking Rook’s arm from around his neck as AJ took the weight in response and veered toward their bed, dragging the drunken drummer along with him. Rook suddenly started babbling, incoherent and loud. AJ swore under his breath and clamped a hand over his mouth and shushed him. Colson chuckled and shook his head as he tugged his shirt off and wiggled out of his pants.

“Shut the fuck up, Rook,” Jersey muttered, sleepily. Rook giggled and retorted back, “Why don’t you fuck the up shut...Wait...No, shut-”

“Goodnight, John Paul,” Jersey said, a little louder. Rook giggled as he slumped back on the bed. AJ took off his shoes and lifted his legs onto the bed. As Rook continued babbling in his drunk state and AJ quietly asked him to please shut the fuck up and go to sleep, Colson got in bed, slipping in next to Jersey.

“Y’all are fucking annoying. I get my own room next time.” She muttered, turning away from Rook and moving toward the sudden warmth with a shiver.

“You can stay in my room on the bus? Oof!” Colson offered, half teasing, but still earning a slap to his bare chest once Jersey reached him. She snuggled into his side and almost immediately fell back asleep. Colson chuckled and eased an arm around her and shifting to get comfortable, then drifted off to sleep.

The sudden, loud sound of the curtains being torn open woke Jersey and Colson with a start. Colson groaned and crossed his hands in front of his face, glancing down when he felt pressure and movement when he moved. He curled an arm around Jersey as she whimpered and pushed her face into Colson’s neck, trying to hide from the brightness.

Rook turned at the groans and smirked, “Well, good morning. Aren’t we cozy?”

“Fuck. Off. Rook.” Jersey said, her words muffled by Colson’s neck. Colson chuckled and glanced at her again, resting a hand on her arm as he gave her a quick squeeze before getting up. Jersey whined softly and slowly picked her way out of the sheets, yawning.

“Fuck, what time is it?” Colson asked, stretching with a yawn.

“Noon. We want to hit the pool. You guys down?” Slim said from the doorway, sipping his coffee. Colson shrugged as he scratched his head with a tired smile and said, “Shit. Sure. Why not?”

“Fuck. 12 O’clock? How long have you guys been up?” Jersey asked, reaching for her phone to scroll through her notifications, answering a few texts.

“Not long. We all slept the fuck in.” Slim said, laughing, along with Colson and Rook. Jersey locked her phone and looked up at Slim, taking a minute for the conversation to register before she giggled and smirked.

“Well, thank God for that.” She teased. Slim chuckled and caught Colson’s attention to start a conversation, allowing Rook to take his moment and slunk up to his cousin. “Cuddling up to Colson, I see?” He teased, lowering his voice as he sauntered up to her. Jersey gave him a look. He snickered and scooped up his bag to dig around for his swim trunks.

“Shut up, JP. Have you been talking to AJ? I’m gonna fuck him up if he’s-” Rook shushed her, gently, as he took a step closer and said, “Hey. Jers, what are you talking about?”

Jersey sighed and shook her head, moving his hands away. “Nothing. Nevermind. Don’t-Don’t say anything, Rookie, okay?” Jersey said, making her way to her bag. Rook shook his head and chuckled as he went to the bathroom to change. Jersey rummaged around in her bag before she gave a soft groan.

“What’s wrong?” Slim asked, still hanging out in the doorway. Jersey sighed and said, “I think I left my suits in my other bag on the bus. Fuuuck, I don’t want to deal with that…”

She pulled out a pair of leggings and a tank top, concealing a pretty pink and blue lace bra and panties. “You wanna hit the store?” Colson asked, with a laugh. When both Slim and Jersey looked at him, Jersey giving him a look, Colson said, “I fucking lost my trunks, bro. I must have left them in fucking Indonesia.”

Colson and Slim laughed as Jersey shook her head and smirked. “How do you lose those, Colson? They’re swim trunks.” She teased. Colson flipped her off as he grabbed a change of clothes.

“So, do you want to go get a new suit?” Colson asked as she passed by, spying Rook as he walked out of the bathroom. Stopping in the doorway, she skewed her lips in thought. Finally, she looked at him, cracking a small smile and said, “Yeah. Sure. Why not? Maybe I’ll find something cute.”

Colson shot her a thumbs up and a smirk as Jersey giggled and closed the bathroom door. Slim waited until Rook walked out, before stepping more into the room and giving a chuckle as he said, “Kells. Could you want her more? God damn, bro.”

Colson gave him a look. “The fuck are you talking about, bro? Want her? It’s Savage.” He said, pulling on his jeans. Slim gave him an unamused look.

“Man, are you for real?” Slim scoffed. Colson rolled his eyes as he pulled on his shirt and grabbed his deodorant and slipping it under his shirt to apply it. “Y’all are always cuddling and shit. Acting like y’all are in a relationship You like her, man.” Slim added another chuckle as he took another sip of coffee.

“Dude. She’s not my type.” Colson retorted.

“What? Hot?” Slim shot.

“A friend?” Colson shot back. “And she’s Rook’s cousin. It would be weird.”

“Bruh, he jokes about it as much as we do, Kells!” Slim laughed, shaking his head.

“Slim, if I actually started dating her, Rook would lose his shit. He jokes, but, like, if it happened? You’re telling me he wouldn’t be mad?” Colson asked, giving him a look.

“Who would get mad? About what?” Jersey asked, walking out of the bathroom and to her bag. The men exchanged glances as Jersey grabbed a hair tie and stuffed her wild hair into a messy bun. She looked between them, waiting for an answer, to which both men mumbled and looked away. Colson sat on the bed, tugging on his socks, and Slim shoved his coffee cup in his face and he turned and left the room.

Jersey shook her head and chuckled, dropping her sandals on the floor and slipped her feet into them. Grabbing her phone and wallet, slipping them both into the pocket on her thigh, she chirped, “Ready?”

Colson glanced at her and smirked. “Yeah. Let’s go.” He said, also grabbing his phone and wallet, the both of them heading for the door.

Next Chapter

Hope you guys liked it. If you want to be added to my taglist for this and/or future MGK/Colson stories, let me know! If you have any comments, feel free!

@badwolf-in-the-impala @lovemythsworld @kellsfanficalltogether @mgkobsessed

#Machine Gun Kelly #MGK #Colson Baker #Rook #Rook Cappelletty #JP 'Rook' Cappelletty #MGK Fanfic #Machine Gun Kelly Fan Fic #Colson Baker Fic #Colson Baker FanFic

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kpoptrashibnida · 5 years

Text

Enough Pt. 5

A/N: What is up everybody!!!! I am finally done with the next part of this series! I was able to finish most of it on my flight last night. I did not edit it though, so hopefully there aren’t too many errors. I’m currently at the Houston airport, waiting for my flight back home. So I want to post this before I have to board, which is soon. Anyway, I hope you enjoy this chapter and sorry if the description of the dresses don’t make sense. I do have photos for reference though. So if you guys want me to post them, let me know and I’ll do it. Okay that’s all. Happy reading!

The following weeks passed by in a flurry. Between the final preparations for Mina and Suho’s wedding, to filing all the necessary paperwork for your move to the States, weeks flew by and you swear you got whiplash. It was the night before the wedding, you were staying at the hotel where the wedding would take place. Mina, Eunji and you were sharing a room since you were going to get ready together in the morning.

“And then her face when the stripper gave her a lap dance was the best!” You cried out, laughing so hard and holding your stomach as you told Eunji about Mina’s bachelorette party.

“Aw man, that sounds like it was so much fun! I’m so bummed out I was sick that day and couldn’t make it! I would have killed to see that!” Eunji complained as she wiped tears from her eyes.

“I’m sorry but I’ve never had a guy, that’s not my sweet fiancée, grind down on me like that! It was so awkward!” She wailed and covered her face with her hands, making you and Eunji laugh.

“You guys we gotta stop drinking. None of us, especially you Mina, can be hung over for tomorrow.” Eunji, the voice of reason, said as she collected the empty cocktail glasses and put it on a tray outside the hotel room for room service to pick up.

“You’re right. I have a nice buzz but we should really get ready for bed.” Mina agreed, getting up and heading to the bathroom.

Eunji slept soundly in one bed, Mina and you decided to share a bed for the night. Mina’s back was facing you and you tried to focus on her soft breathing so you could fall asleep. Sleep seemed to be avoiding you that night and you were getting frustrated because you were actually tired. Mina turned around to face you and saw you were still awake.

“Hey, you okay?” She whispered, peering at your face intently. You were always surprised at how well your best friend knows you.

You smiled softly at her, booping her nose with your finger. “Yes, I just have a lot in my mind.” You replied softly.

“Are you stressed about the move?” She inquired, knowing that you were leaving to the States the day after her wedding. She was a little upset she wasn’t going to see you once she was back from her honeymoon. She actually tried talking Suho into changing the destination of their honeymoon to New York so she could see you, but of course he knocked down that idea. Insisting that the Maldives was more of a honeymoon spot than New York.

“Not really. I’m literally all packed. I’m not taking everything with me, just the essentials.” You said, knowing you were going to buy anything you needed in New York. The apartment the company was proving was fully furnished, so you didn’t need to worry about that.

“Are you nervous about seeing Chanyeol tomorrow?” She asked tentatively.

“No? I honestly haven’t even thought about him.” You said honestly, Chanyeol being the least of your worries. You were literally trying to escape his existence, so one more day of dealing with him is not a big deal.

“Hmmm. You know, I think Suho didn’t ask Chanyeol to be a groomsman because of how he’s treated you.” Mina said in a satisfied tone, making you laugh quietly.

“I don’t know why you told him in the first place, they’re friends.” You chastised her, feeling bad about having Suho exile his friend from the wedding party.

“I don’t think it matters. I think he asked Sehun to be a groomsman because they’re cousins. He’s kind of bratty because he’s the youngest of the family. He was actually upset that he’s not the best man.” Mina said rolling her eyes, realizing she’s going to have to deal with that for the rest of her life since Suho is close with his cousin.

“Well that makes me feel better. Sehun is nice though.” You commented, thinking back to the few times you interacted with him during the rehearsals.

“Yeah but he can be a bit douchey too. He hangs out a lot with Chanyeol.”

“Hey babe. We should probably sleep. We don’t need to give the make up artist unnecessary work.” You whispered, feeling your eyelids flutter closed.

“Hmm.” Mina hummed in agreement, her own eyes closing slowly.

The whole morning was a rush, from makeup artists coming in early to do your makeup and the hair stylist with her team made sure your hair was styled to perfection.

You and Eunji helped Mina into her wedding dress, a gorgeous mermaid style gown with a sweetheart neckline that plunged down the middle and stopped right before her navel. The bodice was covered in an intricate flower lace detail that gave the dress a romantic look. It also had removable sleeves that started ¼ down her arm and flared out from the elbows and cinched delicately around her wrists. Her hair was in loose waves and styled in a half up hairdo, showing off the neckline of her dress. You felt yourself tear up because she looked so beautiful and you couldn’t believe the day was finally here.

Your dress was a very beautiful off shoulder satin piece that cinched around your hips in a Grecian style design. A slit running up to your upper thigh, the bronze color of the dress complimenting your skin tone. The sleeves and the neckline draped beautifully, accentuating your breasts. Eunji’s dress was almost identical except hers did not have a slit up her thigh.

Before the ceremony and reception, you were going to take the photos. It was set in a gorgeous park, really giving the best possible background for the wedding photos. Seeing Suho cry the second he saw Mina really was the highlight of the photo shoot and thankfully the photographer got it all on camera. You were all trying to be careful, making sure Mina’s dress wouldn’t get dirty as your location varied throughout the park. After the photo session it was time to go to the hotel where both the ceremony and reception were taking place.

Suho’s parents walked out first, taking place at the front where their designated seats were. After them was Mina’s mom, who took her seat opposite to the Kims. Eunji was next with Sehun and they took their place at the left side of the platform. After them it was you and Kyungsoo, walking to the right side of the platform. You held Kyungsoo’s arm tightly in fear of falling. Your heels were a little higher than your comfort zone and you felt like a newborn deer. You thought you had broken them in enough, but the heel was too thin and it didn’t make you feel stable. He smiled softly at you as he tightened his arm around yours, a silent promise to keep you upright.

Everyone stood up the second when they herd the music change and the doors open for Mina and her father. Even though Suho already saw her during the photo shoot, he couldn’t help but get emotional all over again when he saw Mina make her way down the aisle. The look of pure love they shared made your heart melt, making you tear up at the feeling of love and gratitude you felt towards your two friends.

The ceremony was very beautiful and emotional, the majority of the guests wiping happy tears from their eyes. Once the I do’s were shared and the official kiss was made, the guests all stood up and clapped for the new married couple, Mr. and Mrs. Kim. Mina and Suho exited the ceremony room first and headed out to the reception hall. You and Kyungsoo were next after them, sharing a sweet smile with each other as you make your way to the reception hall. Eunji and Sehun were the last to join the little parade. Everyone was excited for the party to start.

“And I just want to thank everyone for coming out today to celebrate with us the happiest day of my life. Thank you!” Suho said as he lifted his champagne flute up as a toast and everyone followed. “Now I invite my best man to come up and give a few words.” He said with a big grin as he walked off the stage, guests clapping for him and the best man that was taking his spot on the mini stage.

“I’m a man of very few words, so here it goes.” Kyungsoo started, making the guests laugh. “I’ve known Suho for most of my life. I’ve seen him through some of his best times, some of his worst times and a whole lot of humiliating times. I gotta say that I know him very well. But the side I saw of him when he reunited with Mina was a side I had never seen before, and that’s how I knew he found the one. Mina, you’re a lucky one. I’m glad you two have found each other and I hope your love and happiness lasts for your lifetime. Thank you.” Everyone clapped at Kyungsoo’s beautiful speech, a couple of stray tears falling down your face. You swiftly wiped them away without ruining your makeup, knowing that you were up next.

“Now I invite the gorgeous maid of honor to come give a speech.”

“Wow, I don’t know if I can beat that, you really outdid yourself there Soo.” You smiled, not noticing the slip of the nickname you mentally gave him. “Well, I can only say that I am extremely happy for the two of you. Mina is the love of my life and I know I am hers as well, sorry Suho.” You shrugged, making everyone laugh. “But I knew Suho was someone very special for Mina the day she ditched me at the bar to leave with Suho. To talk, of course.” You winked, a wave of laughter erupted throughout the hall, making Mina turn a bright shade of red and Suho laughed and clapped his hands like a dumb walrus. “Anyway, Mina never ditches me. So that’s how I knew he was special. And he is even more special now because he is married to the most beautiful, caring, smart and witty woman I know. I love you two and I know your love will outlive all of us. To Mr. and Mrs. Kim!” You cheered, everyone applauding as you got off the stage.

You made your way to Mina and embraced her in a tight hug. “I love you so much.” You whispered, trying hard not to cry.

“I love you more.” She whispered, hugging you tightly.

The party was in full swing by now, people dancing and many of them interrupting Mina and Suho’s dancing so they could take photos with them. You sat at the wedding party table, sipping champagne as you happily watched your best friend dance with her husband.

“Why are you all alone?” Kyungsoo asked as he took a seat next to you.

“I’m drinking. And I really want more dessert. But I don’t want to get up to get more because I don’t want to look like a fatass.” You said, rubbing circles on your belly, pushing it out in an exaggerated manner so it could make your belly look bigger.

Kyungsoo laughed at your silly antics. “You are far from fat. But do you want me to go get you some? I don’t mind.” He said, pointing to the dessert bar.

You sat up on your seat with a gasp. “Really? You’d do that for me?” You asked like an excited child.

“Of course. What do you want?” He asked as he got up.

“Ooh a brownie and another vanilla cupcake. But one with the purple rose on top.” You instructed, a very serious look on your face.

Kyungsoo smiled at you and made his way to the dessert bar. You sat there, drinking your champagne happily until he came back.

“I have the goods!” Kyungsoo exclaimed, placing the plate with the sweets in front of you.

“Oh my gosh, thank you so much!” You said, swaying excitedly on your chair, diving right in to the baked goods.

“Alright! How much have you had to drink?” He questioned, giggling at your tipsy attitude.

“This many.” You said with a mouth full of brownies, holding up 5 fingers and looking like a cute child.

“Alright you need to sober up.” He said and waved over a waiter. He asked him for one glass of water and a cup of black coffee.

“Why are you so good to me?” You asked rhetorically, finishing up the last of your coffee.

“Do you feel better?” He asked, noticing the fact that you looked more yourself and less loopy.

“I do, I think I’m almost fully sober.” You said, stretching your tired back.

“Wanna go dance? I’m sure that will help you sober up more.” He said with a smile.

“Yeah lets go!” You said excitedly, getting up and holding his hand as he led the way to the dance floor.

You two were having fun and being silly, really just enjoying each other’s company. You danced about three songs before your bladder alarmingly signaled that it was time to get rid of all the liquids you ingested earlier.

You told Kyungsoo you needed to use the restroom and made your way as fast and as safely as you could with high heels and a full bladder.

When you came back you noticed Kyungsoo was waiting for you near the bathrooms, looking a little serious.

“Is everything okay?” You asked as you approached him.

“Yeah of course.” He said with a smile that looked a little forced. “Want to dance some more or are you good?” He asked.

“Let’s dance a bit more before I have to leave.” You said as you both made your way to the dance floor.

As soon as you got there the song ended and a romantic slow song started, making some people leave the dance floor and all the couples seemed to stay to dance. Kyungsoo looked at you with a furrowed brow.

“Do you mind?” He asked, hesitantly reaching for your hand.

“Not at all!” You said smiling, pressing your body to his and holding his hand tightly in yours. Even with your impressive heels, he was still a couple inches taller than you, forcing you to look up at him as you two danced the song together. You smiled at each other softly and let the rhythm of the music guide your bodies. Kyungsoo pressed you closer to his body and when you didn’t react negatively or pull away, he leaned down and pressed his lips softly to yours. You closed your eyes and enjoyed the sweet moment. You both pulled away before either one had a chance to deepen the kiss.

“I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” He said shyly, a cute blush caressing his cheeks.

“It’s okay, don’t worry.” You assured him, squeezing his shoulder.

“I don’t want to be brash or too forward, but would you like to continue this…?”

You closed you eyes and sighed, hating the timeing life seemed to have with you.

“Kyungsoo…” You groaned, leaning your head on his shoulder.

“What?” He chuckled

“Normally, I totally would. But I’m leaving tomorrow to the States and you are such an amazing guy, I don’t want to just have you for one night and have that be all. You deserve a lot more than that.” You said honestly.

“I get it, don’t worry. I’m glad you think so highly of me.” He said with a smirk, looking somewhere behind you.

“You’re welcome. You can come visit any time though.” You reassured, both of you smiling and enjoying the rest of the dance.

After the dance you looked for Mina, wanting to have enough time to say good bye since you had to go home to change and catch a red eye at an ungodly hour.

“Hey babe.” You said coming up behind her.

“Is it time already?” She asked with a pout, knowing it was time for you to leave.

“Yes. I know, I hate this.” You say as you embrace her. Swaying lightly to the rhythm of the song.

“Don’t worry, I’m going to vsisit you as soon as you’re all settled in.” Mina assured.

“Absolutely! You better come!” You said in mock seriousness, breaking the hug. Your conversation was interrupted by a high pitch squeal/laugh combination. You both looked over to the source of the sound and saw a girl pressed against Chanyeol, his arms wrapped around her waist, tickling her softly thus making her sound like an excited chihuahua. He glided his lips along her neck, whispering something to her ear, making her nod her head quickly. She grabbed his hand and started to pull him through the crowd, not before Chanyeol looked straight at you, sending you a wink that made your heart bang against your chest. You chuckled softly, chastising your silly heart for its muscle memory of Chanyeol’s tactics.

“Oh my god. Is he serious?” Mina asked as she saw Chanyeol leave with one of Suho’s distant cousins.

“Typical Chanyeol. God I don’t know what I ever saw in him.” You say honestly, proud of yourself for not having feelings for him anymore.

“This is the only reason im glad you’re leaving. So you don’t have to deal with his bullshit.” Mina said, rolling her eyes.

“Speaking of which, I have to go now.” You two embraced in a tight hug once again.

You left the hotel with a wave of determination. You were going to make the most of this move. Not just in your professional life, but also in your personal life.

***

Chanyeol could not keep his eyes off you the whole night. You looked incredibly gorgeous in your satin dress and he couldn’t stop staring at the way it hugged your body. That uncomfortable feeling settled in his stomach again and he couldn’t shake it off. He also could not shake off the jealousy he felt at the fact that Kyungsoo just liberally put his hands on you. He knew he was your partner, but it still bothered him.

He was sitting down watching Kyungsoo make you laugh and bring you dessert. He couldn’t help but see how happy and care free you looked, an expression he never saw you wear when you were with him. He saw the two of you get up and head to the dance floor. He couldn’t stop staring at the way you smiled and laughed and dance around in a silly way, just enjoying yourself and not caring what others think. When he saw you make your way to the bathroom, he decided to have a little fun.

“You know, she’s not as innocent as she may appear.” He said, walking up to Kyungsoo. Even though both men are friends with Suho, they don’t particularly belong in the same group of friends. In fact, Kyungsoo was never fond of Chanyeol and Chanyeol always thought Kyungsoo was a bit uptight.

“Chanyeol, how lovely of you to come over and say hi.” Kyungsoo said sarcastically, not in the mood for the tall man's antics.

“Always so charming Soo. But seriously. She’s a really good lay. Have you been able to find out yet?” Chanyeol really wanted to piss him off and get under his skin.

“Do not speak of her like that.” Kyungsoo bit out harshly, not believing his ears. Chanyeol could really be a jerk sometimes.

“This is cute. How protective you are if her. Have you known her long?” He asked in mock interest.

“That’s none of your concern. Now leave before she comes back and you make her uncomfortable.” Kyungsoo said pointedly, not giving him an option.

“Now noble.” Chanyeol bowed and walked away, satisfied at the fact that he made Kyungsoo mad.

He watched as you came out of the bathroom, completely unaware of the interaction that just happened between the two men. He watched as the two of you walked back to the dance floor. He felt a jab of jealousy jolt his heart when he saw the way you slow danced. He wanted to look away but for some reason his eyes wouldn’t budge, his stare glued to the two of you. He finally managed to look the other way when he saw your lips touch Kyungsoo’s, the sight almost unbearable and he couldn’t understand why. He got up from his seat and made his way to a group of girls that looked pretty enough and most likely desperate enough to go home with him tonight. He started to talk to a girl that was one of Suho’s distant cousins.

He watched you make your way to Mina and he made sure that the girl he picked for tonight grabbed your attention. He tickled her stomach, making her squeal in a way that might have been endearing to some, but it irritated his ears. He made a point of kissing her neck and asking her if she wanted to go home with him. She eagerly nodded, grabbing his hand and dragging him towards the exit. Chanyeol looked your way and felt his heart jump when he saw you looking at him. He sent you a wink and followed what’s-her-name out to his car, ready for a night of trying to get out out of his system. He’s had enough of these confusing feelings.

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#chanyeol smut #chanyeol angst #chanyeol #kpop #exo #kpopsmut #smut #nct #nct smut #nct127 #multiau #multi fandom

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milkshake-at-pops · 5 years

Text

Tour of the Heart:Chapter Four

chapter 3/masterpost/chapter 5

let us know if you want to be tagged! and enjoy the fic

Television appearances were part of the big life Archie had always wanted, but it didn’t mean he had to enjoy them. Fortunately, this was a short interview, just a youtube video to go with an article. He’d barely be on stage for an hour. Still, the cameras and lights were a lot for Arch. He was a former jock, after all, and the spotlight was never his strong suit.

Veronica gave him a smile from her chair, keeping her head perfectly still so that the makeup team could do their job. Archie was trapped in a similar situation, trying not to sneeze at the powders. Well, if he could sing and play guitar onstage, talking in front of a camera shouldn’t be too difficult.

A woman with a high blond ponytail pulled up a chair from an empty makeup stand to sit in front of them. “Hi, I’m Betty Cooper and I’ll be interviewing you both today.”

“Betty Cooper? Correct me if I’m wrong, but I might know you from somewhere,” Archie said, trying to puzzle what it was about her that was familiar. She didn’t look like anyone from Chicago, but maybe Littleton? Definitely a small-town vibe, and he hadn’t talked to people from his childhood home in years.

Betty looked surprised by the fact, her mouth dropping into a small o. “I think our mothers might have known each other… you’re Mary’s son, right?, I’m Alice Cooper’s daughter.” Something in her tone made Archie think that she was planning on this, but Veronica cut off his response.

“Sorry to interrupt your reunion, but aren’t you supposed to be going over the questions we’ll be asked and how much we can promote the tour? I really want to know what the planned length for this segment is,” Veronica said, and Archie realized they were on in ten minutes. Thank goodness for Veronica and her ability to keep things on track.

“Oh, right!” Betty didn’t look too happy with being asked to do her job. “It will be a three to five minute segment, and we want to discuss the tour as well as what goes on behind the scenes. Our readers are very interested in your…friendship.”

“Sounds great,” Archie said, giving her the smile that earned him more than one eggplant emoji comment. “I haven’t seen you in forever, since middle school, I think?”

“It’s been a while, yeah. A lot has happened since you left for the Windy City,” Betty said, smiling. “I can’t believe our paths are crossing again, after so long! Are you excited about the tour?”

“Yeah, but um… shouldn’t we save those questions for the interview?” Archie said, noticing the look Veronica was shooting him. She was all business during things like this, and this was a big interview. Him socializing was probably getting on her nerves.

“You’re right,” Betty said, thinking for a second. “How is your mother? I’m pretty sure I’m not supposed to ask that during the interview.” She smiled, and Archie returned it. Veronica half-listened, playing on her phone to distract herself.

“She’s doing well, just got a promotion at the firm,” Archie said, “She’s really busy lately, but she says she’ll still find time to see me on tour.”

“Oh, that’s wonderful, I loved your mother.” Betty’s eyes were wide, and she looked from Archie to Veronica as if thinking about something very different from Archie’s mother. In an undertone, she asked, “Friend to friend, are you and Veronica-?”

“-We’re on in five,” Veronica interrupted, shooting both Betty and Archie a glare. “And for the record, I’d prefer we keep questions about our personal lives to a minimum. This is a promotion for the tour, after all.”

“Thank you, Veronica. Anyways, Archie, how was high school?” Betty managed to keep up the small talk with Archie until they were on, much to Veronica’s displeasure.

Veronica and Archie got their own microphones and took their seats on the small white couch. Betty sat next to them, fumbling with her microphone as she sat down.

“Hey, you guys should um, sit closer together,” she said to Archie. “Headset says it’s not clear who’s the celebrity.” Veronica didn’t think Betty had said anything into her small earpiece in all the time she had been talking to Archie.

They shuffled around in their seats, and the cameraman counted down to them going live. The Enquirer wanted to shoot a live version first, then edit into small clips for the article. It was streaming on Youtube as well, which didn’t help Archie’s nerves, his palms were already sweaty.

“Hello there, I’m Elizabeth Cooper, reporter for the Enquirer, here today with Veronica Lodge and Arch Andrews. We’re here today to talk about Veronica’s upcoming tour and her album by the same name, ‘Pretty Game.’ So, Veronica, what are you most looking forward to for touring with Archie here?” Her eyes went from the teleprompter to the cards in her hand, and she faced Veronica completely, still holding that wide smile.

“I’m looking forward to seeing an audience react to my songs,” Veronica said, giving the camera a small smile before turning back to Betty. “I love my fans, and I’ve gotten to perform a song here and there at clubs, but I’ve never had that concert atmosphere. I’m so excited to have thousands of people singing my songs along with me. I’ve never had that before.”

“Wow, and Arch here is just tagging along?” Betty asked, attempting a sort of canned humor. She wasn’t looking at the cards, and Archie caught two producers whispering angrily at one another.

“No, I get to perform my own songs, and of course help support Veronica on and off the stage. I’m really looking forward to it, I’ll get to meet some of my own fans as well,” Archie answered, silently grateful that his voice hadn’t faltered. Was it normal to be this nervous? Veronica wasn’t, and Betty was the opposite of nervous right now-Archie’s memories of her were foggy, but he recalled that she tended to bite her lip when she was scared.

“Speaking of that support,” Betty said, looking at a card in her hand, “apparently there’s a small but very dedicated group of fans who claim to support ‘varchie.’ What do you guys have to say for that?”

Archie felt the knots tighten in his stomach, he wasn’t ready to discuss this. Veronica saw his shocked face and stepped in. “Well, we’re great friends, of course, but there’s really nothing happening here. Archie’s like a brother to me, he’s been helping me with songs since my Youtube days.”

“Really? Tell me more about how you two met,” Betty said, her eyes a little too wide for Veronica’s liking. “Archie, what do you remember?”

Sitting in the metaphorical, but somewhat literal hot seat, Archie answered, “I saw one of her covers online, and I thought, ‘Wow, she can sing!’ So I messaged her-on Instagram, right?” He looked at Veronica for support. She gave him a nod.

“Sliding into the DMs, Arch Andrews? I didn’t know you were such a stud,” Betty teased, but Archie barely heard a word she said.

“I mean, I believe the first thing he sent me was ‘you have a really nice voice, how do you do it?’ I started out giving him voice tips, and he helped me figure out how to write my own songs and move beyond covers,” Veronica answered curtly. She tapped her watch and made eye contact with the cameraman, mouthing “Time?” He answered with three fingers.

Three minutes. “Is there anyone else in the picture for either of you?” Betty asked, looking directly at Archie.

“No, not at the moment. I don’t think I could keep a, um, girlfriend during tour.” Archie almost said “girlfriend or boyfriend” before remembering that he did not want to come out to his childhood friend on live television when he had no idea how receptive she was to queer people (Littleton was a small town) and she had just spent the last couple minutes implying that he and Veronica were dating.

“What about a girlfriend who stayed on the tour bus with you?” Betty asked, giving Veronica a not-so-subtle look.

“Well, I mean, my friend Cheryl Blossom is tagging along, but I’m pretty sure she’s a lesbian,” Veronica said, smiling at Betty.

Betty was speechless for a good five seconds. Veronica was more than a little pleased with her reaction. She fumbled for her cards, looking for something neutral to move on to. “Veronica, I love your…hair. What’s your secret? It’s so, uh, fluffy.”

“Um, it’s nothing, just a little dry shampoo, thanks to your awesome hair and makeup team here,” Veronica said, tucking a lock of dark hair behind her ear.

The topic stayed far away from romance for the rest of the interview, and the Enquirer got all the clips that it needed. The producers gave Betty a thumbs-up from behind the camera, and they all waved goodbye before the camera turned off.

Archie slumped over in his seat. “Let’s never do another interview again, Ronnie.”

“Good plan,” Veronica said in an undertone, shooting a glance at Betty as she got up from the couch and walked away. “She hasn’t changed much since high school, that’s for sure.”

“You went to highschool with Betty?” Archie asked. “That’s so weird.”

“It’s a small world. You knew her when you guys were like, kids, right?” Veronica stood up from the couch. “We should get going.”

“Our parents were friends, yeah. I don’t remember her very much, I left for Chicago after middle school. We were never super close. What was she like in high school?” Archie asked, following Veronica out of the studio.

“Really studious, always writing. She was my friend for a bit, we were ‘B and V’ but it didn’t really last. Betty tended to get on my nerves sometimes, and I wasn’t a fan of a lot of the stuff she did,” Veronica said, mostly apathetic about the topic.

“That makes sense, I don’t think I want to get back in touch with her,” Archie said, shrugging.

“Hey, she’s the one interviewing us, not the other way around,” Veronica said, opening the door to the studio.

Archie breathed in the fresh air. “I can’t wait for the tour.”

“Me neither.”

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authorscottmckay · 5 years

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The Novel Writing Process (Indie Publishing Route)

1.) Research the Market

Before you begin, figure out what genre you would like to write in. Horror? Fantasy? Mystery? Romance? Comedy? There are tons of genres, sub-genres, and mixed genres to choose from.

When you have a genre chosen, start reading. Reading is crucial to becoming a good writer. Read what’s hot in your genre right now, study the tropes people like and dislike, and what traits make characters interesting.

By no means am I saying be a copycat. Don’t just write a book about evil spirits rising from an old Native American burial ground because of Pet Semetary’s success and expect fans of horror to enjoy your series. Be original, but take away from your research the “feel” of the books you read. It’s not specifically about what happened in the book, but ask yourself why those events left you craving more and turning the page.

2.) Pre-writing

Depending on who you ask, pre-writing has a specific set of steps and clear paradigms for what is and is not part of this stage. And, as with many steps in the writing process, it is all up to interpretation. To me, pre-writing begins before you jot down a single word. It begins with a spark of inspiration, and is comprised of all the brainstorming, character creation, plot notes, and every other idea you have for your book before you really get down to starting on chapter 1 (or wherever you do begin writing your book; personally, I prefer the ending or somewhere in the middle).

3.) Outlining

There are two main schools of thought when it comes to writing: those who fly by the seat of their pants — aptly nicknamed “Pantsers” — and those who sit down and plot out the entire book in shorthand before they begin — the “Plotters”. I myself am an avid fan of plotting, because I find it greatly decreases the instances of writer’s block, but feel free to skip this step if you’d rather just wing it.

When plotting, simply take the ideas you came up with in the pre-writing stage and organize them from A-Z in your story. This could be a series of bullet points, a death-by-PowerPoint storyboard, or you can shorthand your entire story, then flesh out the details when you go back over it. There are also specific flows to the plot to consider. Find an organizational method that works for you, and ask yourself these questions: Who is the protagonist? Who, or what, is the antagonist? Why does the protagonist want to stop them? What allies do they meet, and what challenges do they face along the way?

For an awesome reference guide, research a concept known as “The Hero’s Journey”.

4.) The First Draft

Now the fun part. Write. Just write. Don’t stop to edit, even if you have a mess of misspellings, punctuation errors, and sentences that come across like a drunk toddler hijacked your keyboard/pen. Just get the words onto the page. Pour your bleeding heart and soul out, have a blast doing it, and understand one simple thing:

The first draft sucks.

The first draft is a heaping pile of manure that should never see the light of day. The first draft would crack mirrors if they had eyes to see it. If you dare to try to publish a first draft, as I have seen impatient indie authors online do, you will invoke my wrath, and I will find you, and I will beat you with a frozen swordfish.

Once you have finished pumping a wordgasm into your Google Docs, Word, Scrivener, or whatever writing program file, sit back, relax, finish your coffee/tea/booze, and cry.

Because now comes the part every writer just loves… So. @&$%ing. Much.

5.) The Self-Edit

“Psh, wait, what? I don’t need to edit my novel. The publishing house will do that for me, or I’ll just hire someone to do it.”

You hear that?

That’s the sound of my swordfish, fresh out of the big ass freezer I purchased just to contain it. And it’s ready for a beat down.

If you were to send a first draft to a publisher, you would be laughed at and rejected immediately. If you’re going the indie route, and an editor you hire needs to spend an enormous amount of time rifling through endless errors, you’ll be digging yourself a massive hole of debt trying to pay them for all that extra work.

Trust me: edit the book to the best of your abilities, and your wallet or publisher will thank you for it later. I would also recommend getting the help of friends and family, if available. These people, reading over your book in the first draft stage (and you better buy them a coffee or something), are what are known as “alpha readers”. We’ll go into depth on the types of readers who help in the editing phase in another post.

There are multiple types of edits to do:

Developmental edit

Read over your story and take note of what makes sense or not, what weak areas could be strengthened, and weed out any continuity errors you find. Just focus on the plot and big scenes. Best to get help with this one in the form of beta readers (see next step).

Copy edit

Go word-by-word checking for typos and spelling errors along with correcting grammar, language, and syntax errors. Also, at this point, deal with any punctuation issues you see.

Line edit

Focus on the finer aspects of language. Read over each sentence to asses their flow and whether or not they get the idea across. Try to tighten them up and avoid run-on sentences.

Sensitivity edit

A sensitivity edit it highly recommended when writing about other cultures, minorities, LGBTQ+ characters, and social issues you may not be familiar with. You don’t want readers getting pissed and blasting you for being homophobic, misogynistic, racist, and/or ignorant. This may be difficult to do on your own, so I recommend a fresh set of eyes from a friend or family member to help you, particularly if they happen to be a part of the group you are writing about.

Proofread

This is the final edit. Read through your manuscript one last time to check for any spelling mistakes, grammatical issues, continuity errors, or other glaring problems.

6.) Get Beta Readers

A beta reader is someone who reads your manuscript and gives feedback before it is ready to be published. What defines a beta reader vs. an alpha reader is actually kind of blurry. Personally, I believe beta readers should come after you have done some thorough self-edits. When you get feedback from your betas, apply it to your book, and continue with another round of self-edits.

Whatever you do, get the beta reader feedback BEFORE the professional edit. Obviously, you don’t want to add the feedback into your book after the edits, then have to pay someone to re-edit those parts of the book.

7.) Get a Critique Partner

Got any writer friends? Good. Ask them if they would help you in the self-edit process by reading through your book and giving feedback as a fellow writer, not as a reader. Think of a critique partner as a beta reader who is reading from the author’s perspective. They can have a world of information and writing tips you hadn’t even considered during the first draft.

8.) The Professional Edit

“B-but I already did my own edits!”

Yes! Good job! Here’s a cookie. Chew on it while you send your book off to people who are vastly more experienced than you.

There’s no skipping this step, even if you’re on a tight budget. Your book needs a professional edit in the form of all the edits you just did. Without it, readers will be able to tell it’s an unfinished book, and you’ll come across as an amateur.

I’m not going to lie, if you’re going the indie publishing route, it’s expensive. Get good at saving money from your day job. Some editors charge per hour, some per page, and some per word. A common fee is $0.01 - 0.03 per word. Doesn’t sound intimidating at first glance, but if you’ve just finished 50k words for NaNoWriMo, or you’ve got the next great 120k word urban fantasy that’ll blow the Mortal Instruments out of the water…well, you do the math.

Just, please, for the love of all that is holy, don’t hire some shady “super experienced” all-purpose editor off of Fiverr because you want to save a buck, then wind up getting half-assed work back and need to find a real editor to fix it. Cough… Not that I’d know anyone who did that. <_<

9.) The Book Cover

“Don’t judge a book by it’s cover” is a phrase only to be applied as a metaphor to say “don’t judge people based on their appearance.”

In the book world, we DEFINITELY judge books by their covers.

If you do absolutely no other form of advertising, make sure you have a damn good book cover. The cover is going to count for about 80% of your advertising. You might have a book that’s going to change peoples’ lives and make you a household name along with a buttload of money. But if the cover sucks, no one is going to buy it except for a few family members and friends.

Make sure you research what book cover styles are popular in your genre so it stands out to readers as something they might enjoy. For example: most urban fantasy YA novels feature a model of the main character in the middle, and they might be holding some sort of weapon; the background is neat, perhaps a city scape or a mystical forest; the font of the title and name are custom-made and might have a swirling, curved, or twisted shape to them.

10.) Formatting

This is often a package deal with book cover designers. Get your book formatted for readability on whatever platform you’ll be publishing it to.

11.) Get an ISBN

Submit your book for an ISBN. Easy peasy. Now, if you’re just going to publish on Amazon, they do have their own free ISBN, but if you want to publish to other sources like Kobo and iBooks, you’ll need to get your own.

12.) Publication

This is it. The moment you’ve been waiting for. Once you’ve got your book all together in an awesome package, find which platform you want to publish your book to — Amazon, iBooks, Kobo, Blurb, Lulu, Smashwords, etc... — and follow their guidelines for setting up an account, giving them your tax info, and uploading your files.

Congratulations! You’ve just published a book. Is it your first one? Then revel in the fact that you are now officially an author. Go out and celebrate with a steak night and a beer (or whatever is appealing according to your diet), then get back to work.

13.) Extras

Not mentioned in this process are things like building your author platform, marketing, advertising, getting deals with bookstores and libraries, and setting up book tours. These don’t have a set place in the writing process. When it comes to marketing and building your author platform, those are things you need to do even before you begin writing your book, all throughout the process, and long after it’s all finished. Things like planning when to officially launch your book, and whether or not pre-orders will be available, are important considerations as well.

Every writer has their own process. This has been my personal experience with the indie writing and publishing process. Comment down below if there is anything you would add to help aspiring, brand new, and veteran authors achieve their writing goals. Thanks for reading!

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