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redgillan · 4 years

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Under Pastel Skies - 3

Sugar daddy!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Modern!AU Bucky doesn’t need anyone, especially not a sugar baby. He isn’t that desperate… but she smiles so sweetly and she’s endearingly awkward, and he’s so lonely. She’s an artist, a painter, the type of person who always puts others before herself. Throwing caution to the wind Bucky offers her a place to live, a place where she can finally paint whatever her heart desires. He doesn’t need much in return; a friend, a muse.

Word Count: 2,587

Warnings: none

A/N: I wanted to give Reader a family and this is the easiest way to do it. Btw Peggy’s husband isn’t Steve, I have other plans for him ;) Enjoy!

Wannabe sugar daddies don’t interact, idc if you have money, eat it and leave me be.

The rest of the week went by, and you kept hoping Bucky would come back. You hadn’t seen him since he’d left 300 dollars under his napkin after visiting you at work. You had tucked the bills into your bra, knowing they would be safe there, and walked home at the end of your shift.

Now it was Thursday afternoon and you were craving a day off.

Natasha’s apartment was spacious and the oversized glass window bathed the living room in natural sunlight. The apartment was a gift from Sam. Obviously.

You dropped your purse on the sofa –your bed- and laid out the bills on the coffee table. It was made of marble and brass, another gift from Sam.

You didn’t know what to do with the money, so you took it wherever you went, to keep it safe. You wanted to return it to Bucky. It was too much and you weren’t used to random acts of kindness.

You sunk into the cushion and blew out a sigh as you stared at the money. The persistent vibration of your phone against your thigh pulled you out of your thoughts. Half expecting it to be Natasha, you answered without looking at the caller ID.

The operator told you that Scott Lang was calling from Saint Quentin State Prison, and asked if you would accept the charges. You agreed. You always agreed.

“Splotchy, I need your help.”

Closing your eyes, you let your head fall back against the cushion. “I told you to stop calling me that, Scott.”

It was a silly nickname.

As a child, your mother dubbed you splotchy because of the colourful doodles you painted on the living room walls, and your siblings, who were roughly a few years older than you, had loved using that nickname. Especially since they knew you disliked it.

Their support and endless enthusiasm played a big part in your artistic journey, nurturing that spark into a flame. What started out as a childlike fascination with colours and shapes became your whole life. No one was surprised when you decided to pursue a degree in fine arts.

After the death of her husband, Peggy Carter adopted five children; a little boy from San Francisco, a little girl from Wakanda, twins from Sokovia and a little girl whose birth parents were still in high school. You were the last one, the only one she adopted as a baby.

“Is it offensive to call an artist splotchy?”

“It’s irrelevant. I haven’t painted in months,” you replied. “And we’re not kids anymore, you can use my name.”

“I’ve been calling you Splotchy for so long, I forgot your actual name.”

“You’re so funny,” you deadpanned. “What do you need, Scott?”

Scott’s tone changed suddenly, his voice grew agitated. “I need you to call Maggie. She isn’t picking up when I call her.”

“Scott,” you sighed.

“I haven’t talked to Cassie since her birthday,” he cut you off, pleading. “Please, I just want to talk to my little girl.”

Maggie was Scott’s ex-wife. Six months after his incarceration, she had filed for divorce. Natasha thought it was a real dick move but you didn’t blame Maggie. She was alone, her husband was in jail –for basically being a dumbass although the official charge was embezzlement and destruction of property- and she had a kid to raise.

Maggie wasn’t a saint but she was a good mother, and Cassie was a smart and healthy kid. Now you knew what to do with Bucky’s money.

“I’ll call her,” you said. “Listen, I’m going to put 50 bucks on your book. Buy yourself a bar of soap, I can smell you from here.” Scott interrupted you with a monotone ‘har har’. You chuckled. “I’ll buy Cassie a Christmas gift on your behalf, all right? I think she wanted a bike.”

“Thank you, thank you, thank you, thank you,” he chanted over the phone, his voice muffled as if he was holding the receiver too close to his mouth. “Are you sure you can afford it? I know it isn’t easy for you. Between living in New York and paying for mom’s nursing home, you don’t have to-”

“It’s fine,” you said, cutting off the conversation. “I’m not alone, Okoye helps.”

“And Wanda?”

“She sends postcards from time to time.”

The line went quiet for a moment. “I want to get out of here so bad,” Scott groaned. “Everything’s gone to shit since I went to jail.”

“Everything’s gone to shit since Pietro died, Scott.” You both remained silent, remembering your late brother. Just thinking about him made your eyes start to prickle with tears, so you cleared your throat and ended the call. “I’ll talk to Maggie. You’ll be out soon, just... stay out of trouble. Love you.”

You left your phone on the table and kicked off your shoes before you lay down on the sofa for a well-deserved nap. In your dreams your brothers weren’t either dead or in prison, your mother hadn’t been diagnosed with Alzheimer, and you weren’t a burden to your friend.

If you were lucky enough, you wouldn’t even dream at all.

The next day, Bucky arrived at the hotel at six thirty and you playfully glared at him from across the lounge. He wasn’t stupid, he knew why you were glaring at him. At least he had the decency to look a little sheepish.

“Just so you know, you bought yourself about 30 breakfasts,” you told him, referring to the far-too-generous tip he had left the other day.

“A man’s gotta eat,” he replied with a boyish cockiness that made him look stupidly attractive. You were too flustered to find a good comeback.

You brought him his cup of coffee and let him enjoy his breakfast while you attended to your other clients. It was an unusually busy day, the room was packed with families who were getting ready to explore Manhattan. You didn’t have time to chat with Bucky and he didn’t stay long. You saw him flinch a couple of times; the muscles in his shoulders pulled tight and his eyes darting left and right.

He left another ridiculously generous tip, along with a handwritten note. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day x.

Bucky came back the following week, and even though it was a quiet morning, you made sure to find him a table in a secluded spot. He didn’t notice when you slipped the 300 dollars into the pocket of his coat. You could be pretty sneaky, too.

“Mmmh,” he said, wiping his mouth with a napkin, “I looked at your Instagram.”

“Oh,” you glanced at your shoes, embarrassed. “Wait, you’re on Instagram? I have a hard time imagining you scrolling through your feed.”

He laughed a little. “I’ll admit I’m not as tech savvy as you youngsters, but I’m not a fossil. I use it to look at the pictures my sister post of my niblings.”

“Cute,” you grinned.

“Anyway,” he said, pushing a hand through his hair. “I love your work. It’s very unique; a cross between Impressionism and Post-impressionism. It’s realistic, and yet there’s something different...” his face scrunched up as he tried to look for the right word. “There’s something in your paintings, something that isn’t here in real life but perhaps should be. It’s hard to explain. It’s a feeling, a color, a pattern; it’s indiscernible but it’s there.” He looked up at you, his cheeks red with embarrassment. “I’m not making much sense, am I?”

You blinked, suddenly stunned that someone had such strong opinions about your work. There was nothing but sincerity in his ocean-blue eyes, and for a moment, you were at a loss for words.

“I, um-” you cleared your throat, “Thank you, I didn’t know that. I look up to Monet, obviously. His work is phenomenal, and I also have a soft spot for Van Gogh.” You ran a hand across your face. “Sorry, I’m a little emotional. The people who compliment my art are usually my siblings, and Nat.”

“And now me,” he said with a warm smile. “And soon a lot more people.”

Flustered, you bit your bottom lip. “That would be nice.”

Bucky nodded. He gathered his silverware and set them on his plate, trying to buy time. You watched him hesitate before he turned to you. “I noticed that your last post was from almost a year ago.”

“Yeah,” you said with a casual shrug. “I don’t really paint anymore. I’m too tired when I get home and supplies are expensive.”

“Of course,” he pursed his lips in thought. “Are you free this afternoon? I was wondering if we could meet for coffee.”

You tried not to show your surprise but his words made the sleeping butterflies in your stomach crack an eye open, their interest piqued.

Was he asking you out? He’d come to your workplace every week since your brief ‘date’. He always gave you more-than-generous tips, and he listened to you with a combination of close attention and warmth that made you weak at the knees.

He’d made it clear he wasn’t looking for anyone but maybe he had changed his mind. Agh, down girl! He just wanted a friend.

You looked into his beautiful eyes, seeing a myriad of expressions cross his face before he smiled at you.

“I ain’t gonna hurt you, angel.”

It was an honest lie, just hearing him call you angel felt like a punch to the stomach. The butterflies were dancing around, reborn, and chanting the word ‘date’.

“If you don’t like coffee, we can have tea, or ice cream,” he said, “anything as long as you can sit down with me.”

You snorted. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he repeated, smiling. “This is my number. Pick a place and I’ll meet you there.”

After breakfast, you closed the restaurant and started cleaning the Lounge. You brought everything back to the kitchen, stacked the dishes in the dishwasher and turned it on. Then you put away the unopened miniature jams, butter and whatnot, and gathered the remaining patisseries and fresh fruits in a basket that you would later bring to the reception.

You worked mechanically. It wasn’t exactly the most exciting job you’d ever had.

You couldn’t stop thinking about Bucky. It was easy to let your mind wander into the cosy and dangerous territory of this being a real date.

You decided to go to the Australian coffee shop near Natasha’s apartment. It was popular but not as crowded as Starbucks, which suited you fine.

After your shift, you removed your uniform and changed into the spare set of clothes you kept in your locker for emergencies. Emergencies being an impromptu date or a night out with Nat. You dug around in your purse for your lipstick; the nice one, the Carter Red as your mother called it.

You dabbed the lipstick on your lips, staining them. You only wore it on special occasions, and you weren’t sure Bucky deserved your full red pout.

You walked to the café with a little pep in your step and a confident smile on your face. The freezing temperature didn’t matter, you were too giddy to care. It was a date, it had to be, why else would he ask you to meet for coffee?

You smiled when you saw him through the coffee shop window. He was chatting with the waiter as the latter set two mugs on the table.

“Hi again!” You shrugged out of your jacket and took a seat.

“I hope you like hot chocolate. Carl, here, says it’s their best seller,” Bucky said, smiling kindly at the waiter.

“Enjoy, and if you need anything else don’t hesitate to call me.”

You carefully wrapped your cold hands around your mug while you watched Carl walk away. A moment of silence rose between you. Bucky watched you with an unreadable expression, making you fidget in your seat.

“I’m glad you came,” he finally said.

“Me too. I’m a little surprised you asked.”

He looked down at his mug and smiled; it didn’t reach his eyes. “I have something to ask you.” He paused. “The night we met, you said you agreed to see me because being in a... financial relationship felt like the only solution to your problems.”

Your smile faltered but he didn’t seem to notice. Oh. The butterflies in your stomach fell so suddenly that it felt like carrying a ball of lead. They went back into hibernation.

“If I had been a decent person and, I don’t know, bought you a drink, talked to you,” he paused, meeting your eyes. “Would you have been interested in this type of relationship? With me, I mean.”

You swallowed hard. “You want to be my sugar daddy.”

It wasn’t a question but a statement. You were slowly realizing that you had been wrong about his intentions. This wasn’t a date, it was a business afternoon tea.

He winced. “Do we really have to call it that? I was thinking mentorship. I can provide financial help, and in exchange you could be my friend.”

“I can be your friend for free,” you said, your throat tightening.

He shrugged, a small smile on his lips. “This way we’ll both get something out of it.”

You looked down at your hands, still wrapped around the mug, and pursed your lips in thought. You felt a sharp tingling sensation in your nose, a sign that you were about to cry. You closed your eyes and clenched your jaw, fighting against the flood that was coming.

You pushed all the emotion down and forced a smile to your face. “Do you mind if I use the restroom? I just took the subway, I’d like to wash my hands.”

Bucky watched you, momentarily stunned by your request. “Of course, take your time,” he quickly recovered.

“Thanks,” you croaked, pushing your chair back.

You picked up your bag and walked to the restroom, your legs feeling like cotton wool. You didn’t need to use the restroom, you had walked to the café, but you needed a moment alone to collect yourself.

A woman came out of the restroom, holding the door open for you. You picked up the pace and thanked her before closing the door behind you. You looked pretty sickly under the artificial light of the restroom. Your eyes were glassy with tears and your red lips were taunting you.

“Got your hopes up, uh?” You watched your lips move. A little humourless chuckle escaped you and you shook your head at your own idiocy.

You aggressively wiped the lipstick off your mouth with the back of your hand and sighed deeply as you looked at your reflection in the mirror. Now you felt like an idiot.

It wasn’t Bucky’s fault. He had been nothing but nice and kind, and perhaps you had mistaken his kindness for flirting. A naïve mistake. You had always been a little clueless when it came to men.

You ran your index fingers under your eyes to get rid of the makeup that had gathered there. It wasn’t the end of the world, you barely knew him anyway. It didn’t hurt any less, though.

Maybe it was time for you to do something out of character, to experience life no matter how crazy it seemed. You were dreading this conversation with Bucky, but you couldn’t hide in the restroom forever. With another sigh, you pushed yourself away from the sink and walked out of the restroom.

Part 4

#bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #marvel #marvel fanfiction #marvel imagines #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #marvel imagine #bucky barns imagine #redgillan #redgillanwrites

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beauregardlionett · 4 years

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Queens of Queens - Ch.1

AO3 Link

Putting the barbell back onto the holders with a quiet huff of exertion, Fjord ducked backwards out from under the weight and shook out his wrists. His left one still ached from working at the docks the afternoon before. Beau had wrapped it tight and firm for him before they started working out today, telling him to go easy with it for a few days. She was a damn hypocrite, and they both knew it. Regardless, Fjord had decreased the amount of plates he usually had on the barbell in an attempt to set a good example.

It ended up being a fruitless gesture. Halfway through their session, Fjord spotting Beau as she squatted twenty pounds over her max from two weeks ago, she had realized she was late for work. Fjord didn’t mind working out alone, it was just more entertaining and passed the time a little faster when she was there, too.

Sighing as he rolled out his wrist a few more times for good measure, Fjord decided to just call it a day.

As he was packing up his bag, he spotted the familiar blue hoodie that Beau always wore sitting tossed against the mirrors and forgotten. Scooping it up and tossing it overtop his bag, Fjord tugged his phone out of his pocket and sent her a quick text.

Fjord: hey you left your hoodie here

Fjord: want me to drop it off?

Tucking his phone away again, Fjord moved to the locker rooms and dropped all his things in a locker before heading to the showers. He wasn’t in desperate need for a shower considering they hadn’t done that vigorous of a workout today, but it was routine at this point. He only remembered to check his phone for a response once he was dressed and toweling the dampness from his hair.

Beau: shit I knew I forgot something

Beau: yeah could you stop at the bar and drop it off?

Beau: drinks on me if you do just don’t let the peacock know

Snorting quietly at the last text, Fjord texted back an affirmative and got an address for the bar in response. Tucking all of his things and Beau’s hoodie into his bag, Fjord hefted it over his shoulder and made his way out of the locker room and onto the bustling streets of Queens, New York. A colorful mix of civilians walked past Fjord, and he felt a little more at ease here every time he noticed another like him among the population.

He was nowhere near old enough to remember magic, but the stories in their history books in school had been enough for a young half-Orc like himself to imagine a better world. He had once dreamt of a time when magic and gods and less sideways looks were real and present fixtures in everyday life. Fjord knew now that it was a folly dream of a child, but New York was one of the closest places on Earth to that feeling. Dense with Tieflings, Halflings, Elves, Firbolgs, Kenku, and countless other once magical races, a half-Orc like Fjord was just another passing face instead of a sore thumb.

A human woman passed by Fjord with her child, tugging the toddler closer by the hand. She shot him a dirty look as he headed for the subway entrance.

Okay, so he was a passing face to most people.

The bar Beau worked at was a five-minute subway trip and a quick walk from the gym, tucked into the homey bustle of Jackson Heights on the main boulevard. Among the throng of restaurants, gas stations, schools and homes, there perched an unassuming wooden door with an ancient deity’s symbol carved into the wood. The front window was floor to ceiling and shrouded from inside by heavy violet drapes. A tall, muscular woman sat on a stool outside the door. She had black and white hair with several intricate braids set throughout, and a leather jacket with dark fur lapels and collar to match tucked snug across her shoulders. She glanced up at Fjord’s approach, mismatched eyes giving him a quick sweep up and down as he stopped a good foot away from her. He glanced at the door she seemed to guard and then back to her piercing gaze.

“Is the bar open? I’m just here to drop something off with Beau.” Not the full truth, as he was planning on taking her up on that free drink. But dropping something off was more concise of an explanation.

The woman held out one hand, expression not changing at all. In the softest voice Fjord had ever heard, she said, “ID.”

Blinking once, Fjord’s hand moved to grab his wallet from his bag and only fumbled a little in tugging his license free. The woman gave it a cursory glance, tilted it this way and that in the dim light and then handed it back over. Fjord gave her a quiet nod of thanks as she gestured behind her for him to enter. Moving past her, the door gave a quiet squeak on the hinges; the sound lost beneath the music thrumming from the speakers and into the veins of every patron inside.

It wasn’t obscenely packed, considering it was just before nine on a Thursday night, but it was still an impressive crowd. There was a decent balance of ostentatious and raunchy fashion dispersed across the tables and bar stools, and Fjord had to admit, he was a little impressed. It took a bit of effort to force his eyes to sweep for Beau, continuously distracted by various articles of clothing that caught his attention.

After a few attempts, he found her behind the bar, a grey waistcoat immaculately fastened over a navy button up, the sleeves rolled to her elbows. Her hair pulled back into that signature topknot, Beau flashed her familiar sharp grin at the patrons currently fawning over her bartender flare. Making his way over to the sticky countertop, Fjord slid into a relatively empty slot, the stools on either side occupied, and waited for his friend to finish up her flexing for the swooning girls.

It took a couple minutes, but Beau noticed Fjord down the bar as she was cleaning out the shaker she had been using, eyes lighting with recognition. Waving graciously to the girls and collecting tips, Beau casually slid her way down to Fjord and reached over to give his shoulder a light punch in greeting.

“Hey, man!” she called over the music and the chatter. “Thanks for coming by. What can I get you for the trouble?”

Handing the hoodie over to her across the bar top, taking care to avoid letting the sleeves drag across the tacky surface, Fjord gave her a shrug. He hadn’t seen a menu of sorts anywhere, so he assumed the usual was available.

“What’s your specialty?”

Eyes sparking with delight as she tucked the hoodie away beneath the bar, Beau cracked her knuckles and reached for a clean shaker and a bottle of expensive looking vodka. Fjord already had regrets, but he didn’t stop her.

“I didn’t know you could sling drinks,” he offered instead. Fjord watched her with a hint of skepticism as she started mixing in something that looked like soda and lime and…was that a jalapeño? Her hands were deft, like with everything Fjord had ever seen her do. He had a suspicion, based on plenty of exposure, that Beau’s default setting was of a fluttering nature.

“Yeah,” Beau said easily, something in the curve of her lips when she said it looking a touch bitter. “Been doing it for a few years. The Peacock’s just hired a new bartender to replace Orna since she had to move for family reasons. Usually I only step in back here to cover shifts once a week, since I’m mostly out front with Yasha.”

“The lady in the leather jacket with the death glare?”

Beau laughed once, barking and loud as she started to rapidly shake the drink she was mixing. Her eyes shone with mirth as she gave a slight shake of her head.

“Yeah, that’s her. She’s really not that bad, just awkward as far as I can tell. She and I only bounce together on Friday nights when the crowd’s the worst, and I swear Fjord, she’s a challenge to talk to.” Beau looked a little pained and a lot wistful now, pouring out the drink into a glass with ice in it. “She’s got an amazing body and those eyes…mh!”

Fjord watched her clutch a hand to her chest dramatically with only a little judgment coloring his expression. Beau seemed to either not notice or not care, because she carried on as she put the finishing touches on his drink.

“I’ve been bouncing Fridays with her for almost a year now and all I’ve got out of her is that she’s best friends and roommates with the Peacock, her favorite color is black, and that she’s strong enough to pick up three drunk dudes at once.”

Sliding the drink across the counter to Fjord, Beau tossed the shaker into the sink behind the bar and wiped her hands on a dishtowel. Raising an eyebrow at her, Fjord picked up the drink with caution and gave it a quick, curious sniff. He had to try very hard to not recoil at the near overpowering scent of liquor that all but punched him in the face.

“Sounds rough,” Fjord sympathized in a monotonous tone as he stalled, swirling the drink around a little in the glass, the ice clinking against the sides.

“It is,” Beau said around a long-suffering sigh. She gestured to the drink and quickly moved on. “Try it, you wimp. It’s not that strong, just smells like it. It’s the lime that kicks up the scent.”

Giving her a look, Fjord hesitated only another heartbeat before taking a breath and daring to take a sip of whatever Beau had created for him. The liquor hit his tongue first, followed by the sweet zing of carbonation and a hint of the lime and jalapeño she had thrown in. Overall, it wasn’t bad, but Fjord wasn’t much of a drinker. Still, he lowered the glass and gave Beau an impressed look to meet the smugness she was watching him with.

“Not bad,” he granted, setting the glass down as he slid onto the barstool beside him that had been vacated.

“Thanks, man,” she grinned, sharp and proud. She gestured to the crowded floor behind him and spoke over the music with a glint to her eye. “Stick around a while longer and there’ll be some entertainment, too.”

Suspicious, but knowing that she knew he had nowhere else to be, Fjord could only give her a shrug that was basically acceptance. Beau flashed him a dangerous grin and then she was off to serve a rowdy looking trio of half-Elves. Left to his own devices, Fjord continued to slowly work away at his drink, eyes scanning over the various people crowded around the tables throughout the cozy restaurant. Admittedly, Fjord would never have pegged this place as being popular from the outside, but the inside was unique in decoration from what he could tell through the dim lighting.

“Here by yourself, handsome?”

Glancing to the side at the voice by his shoulder, Fjord blinked with surprise as he found himself face to face with a purple Tiefling. Their grin was full of sharp teeth and solid red eyes glimmered with mischief and interest alike. They wore a loose white shirt with a plunging neckline, and Fjord could have sworn there was something about the Tiefling’s chest that gave him pause. But realizing both that the flashing lights weren’t helping, and that he was all but staring at their chest without responding, Fjord was quick to look back at their face.

“Uhm, yeah.”

Stupid.

The Tiefling raised an eyebrow at him but chuckled with mirth, clearly not put off by Fjord’s awkward honesty.

“You’ve never been here before.”

It wasn’t a question, and they said it with far too much conviction that Fjord knew he couldn’t pretend it was, even if he wanted to. So instead, he offered a shrug and took another sip of his drink. He could feel the heat on his cheeks, but he hoped that the dim light and colorful flashes were enough to hide it.

“Hey, don’t worry about it,” the Tiefling said, waving a hand dismissively between them. “We’re a close knit community in here, so it’s easy to spot an unfamiliar face. Just wondering if you’ve wandered in or if you actually know what you’re in for.”

“What I’m—?” Fjord started to ask, before the sound of a microphone giving a burst of static over the speakers among the music cut him off.

“Hello everyone!” a cheerful, pitchy tone drawled over the microphone, drawing Fjord’s eyes away from the Tiefling and towards the makeshift stage at the back of the bar. There stood a figure with pale green skin, balancing a wig of obnoxious size on their head and sporting eye make-up so bold, Fjord had no trouble discerning it even from across the bar. He was so preoccupied by taking in the glittering jewels and loud accessories, that the only other words he caught over the music and cheering were drag and performance.

Sliding a look to the Tiefling beside him, Fjord raised an eyebrow their way and asked over the din, “drag performance?”

The Tiefling gave him a look, grin dipping a little as they asked, “you do know you’re in a gay bar, right love?”

Fjord felt like a damn fool.

“I do now.”

The Tiefling laughed, loud and amused, as Fjord caught Beau’s shit-eating grin from down the bar. He spared her enough attention to flip her off before focusing back on the Tiefling who was speaking again.

“I’m Mollymauk, by the way. Mollymauk Tealeaf, but everyone here just calls me Molly. If you don’t mind my asking, how’d you end up in a gay bar without knowing it?”

Fjord reached out and took the hand extended his way, giving it a firm shake before saying, “I’m Fjord. And your bartender Beau over there is my gym buddy. I dropped by to give her something and she somehow roped me into sticking around a while without giving me any details.”

“Yeah, that sounds like her.” Molly’s grin was sharp and dangerous, but their words were laced with the begrudging fondness one often could associate with having a sibling. “She’s good at picking reliable company, but she’s also a little shit.”

“You know her well, then?”

“More than I care to admit most days,” Molly chuckled. “I’m her boss, as well as begrudging friend.”

Fjord had to stop himself from saying ‘you’re the Peacock?’ out loud. Instead he cleared his throat in an attempt to not laugh and averted his gaze.

“If you aren’t comfortable with this kind of atmosphere, you can always come back during our lunch hours,” Molly offered, watching Fjord carefully. They had likely mistaken his surprise with discomfort. “Much more of a chill vibe then, when we aren’t packed in with a bunch of drunks.”

Not bothering to correct Molly, he said, “Is that an invitation or a suggestion?”

“Maybe it’s both,” Molly said, wiggling their brows with a suggestive grin. Fjord felt a little flushed and quietly blamed it on the fact that he was halfway through his drink.

“But in all seriousness, Fjord,” Molly continued, leaning in a little to be heard over the pounding music as a drag queen strut through the crowd. “You’re welcome back anytime. Not every queer individual is a fan of loud music and being absolutely blasted. This is a judgment free zone, safe space only.”

Not bothering to correct Molly and tell them he wasn’t actually queer, Fjord simply smiled at the Tiefling gratefully. Taking another swig of his drink, Fjord bid Molly farewell and waved down the bar to Beau as he slipped out. Pausing just outside the door, closing it carefully behind him, Fjord took a steadying breath of cool night air. The music was duller from outside, mingling a lot more peacefully with the sounds of Queens at night.

He and Yasha exchanged a quiet look, something subtly knowing in her stoic eyes, before Fjord was walking off into the night.

Caleb looked down at the scribbled note that Veth had shoved at him right before his lunch break had ended earlier that day. Her handwriting scrawled and slanted on the crinkled paper, but the address matched the one on the door and the name of the bar and restaurant hanging above it. Tucking the scrap of paper away into one of his many coat pockets, Caleb hefted his bag a little higher on his shoulder and pushed into the warm interior of The Moon and Mirror.

It was cozy, a little on the dim side, and the décor was intricate in its simplicity. A tapestry hung on one wall between two tall windows, a vibrant red backdrop to multicolored symbols and patterns woven into the fabric. Each table had similar red fabric draped across the tops, lacking patterns but vibrant nonetheless. Every tabletop sported its own antique looking lamp that shed light in a homey beacon of warmth. There was one enormous glass window at the front—heavy, rich drapes held back on either side, velvet and violet in their bundles—that let the late Friday afternoon light spill across the worn wooden floor.

Behind the bar, a lavender skinned Tiefling with solid red eyes and wavy hair glanced up at Caleb’s entrance, an eyebrow lifting appraisingly. Intricate, colorful tattoos curled up one side of their neck and continued out from under their sleeve on one side, curving a serpentine trail down to their hand. They seemed to be in the middle of wiping down the surface, cleaning away the evidence of whatever had happened last night to leave such a sticky residue near plastered to the polished wood.

“Can I help you?” the Tiefling asked, voice laced with a light accent and sweet, deceivingly friendly.

“I am uh…here to see Veth?” Caleb was not nervous, but his statement came out like a question. The wound tension he hadn’t recognized in his shoulders released only when a look of recognition flashed across the Tiefling’s features. They turned as if to call back into the kitchen, silver bobbles clinking against pierced horns, before a quiet clatter was followed by hurried footsteps. From around the far end of the bar, a tiny figure slid to a stop, bright eyes latching onto Caleb.

“You made it!” Veth, his rather chaotic but loveable Halfling friend, came trotting over eagerly as Caleb knelt to greet her. Her calloused, sturdy hands cupped his sallow cheeks as Veth leaned up on tiptoes to plant a motherly kiss to Caleb’s forehead. Button bracelets clattered with familiar charm around her wrists as she pat Caleb’s shoulders, taking stock of him and beaming all the while.

“Grab a seat,” Veth instructed, voice giddy. “The chef’s just finishing up some lunch for us, my treat.”

Nodding silently, he watched her scurry back off into the kitchen before standing and glancing once again at the Tiefling at the bar. They were watching with no small degree of curiosity and fondness. Caleb felt mildly warm under the scrutiny and deflected by gesturing to the numerous tables around him.

“Are any of these taken, or may I help myself?”

The Tiefling gave a wide gesture, a flourish to the motion and something a little less deceivingly friendly in the curve of their grin.

“Be my guest, friend.”

Giving the bartender a quiet nod of acknowledgment, Caleb slung the strap of his bag over the back of a chair and tucked himself into the worn seat of the old wooden chair. His gaze roamed around, taking in the eclectic gathering of worn, mismatched chairs and wayward tables. Each piece seemed to have made its way here for the sole purpose of filling this restaurant. It was definitely one of the more interesting places Caleb had found himself in, and that was saying a lot for a person who had been living in New York City for near two years.

A glass of water slid on the table in front of Caleb as a body sunk gracefully into the seat across from him.

“How do you know Veth, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Caleb looked up from the glass of water and met the solid red gaze of the Tiefling bartender. He raised an eyebrow and took a moment to remain silent as he took in whatever this situation was.

“I work with her husband,” Caleb offered, somewhat vaguely.

“Ah,” the Tiefling snapped their fingers, grinning bright and easy. “You must be Caleb. Veth speaks highly of you. She says you’re very intelligent and working on a degree, yes?”

“You know a lot about me, but I know nothing about you,” Caleb shot back smoothly, keeping his hands tucked in his lap. He didn’t like being known without knowing in return. And while it charmed him to know that Veth seemed to brag about him, it was disconcerting to be staring down a stranger and not even have a name to the face.

“Yes, of course,” the Tiefling all but crooned, hand extending smoothly. “My name’s Mollymauk Tealeaf—Molly for short. I’m Mrs. Veth’s new employer.”

Caleb reached out after a brief hesitation, taking Molly’s hand to shake and finding himself concealing his surprise at how cool the Tiefling’s hand was in his own. Caleb had always heard and read that Tieflings ran noticeably warm, but Molly’s hand was rather chilled. He didn’t comment on it, choosing instead to just draw his hand back after the handshake had lasted an appropriate time.

“She’s very talented at bartending, I’m very lucky to have crossed paths with her. We’ve been scrambling a bit recently to fill the position.”

“Ja, she is very good. She’s a quick learner, too.”

“So I’ve noticed,” Molly beamed, polished fingernails tapping a random pattern against a sliver of exposed tabletop not covered by the cloth. Their solid eyes seemed to take Caleb in. Aware and uncomfortable, the human focused his attention on picking at an errant spot of ink staining the pad of his finger. He could be good with conversation when prepared, but he couldn’t be farther from ready for whatever this was. It felt like an interrogation, but read like an awkward attempt at friendly conversation.

“She’s been struggling a little with getting a job,” Caleb said before he could stop himself, overwhelmed by the awkward pressure. He always slipped up a little when he was nervous.

“Yes, well, most places aren’t too keen on hiring people with a record,” Molly said casually, their friendly expression never faltering.

“You are not most places?” Caleb asked, somewhat derisively as he glanced around the interior.

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” Molly’s grin was a little less friendly again, hands spreading wide as though amicable. “We’re a fine establishment, decent benefits, ordinary people making a mostly honest living. Just like anyone else in this city.”

Caleb’s somewhat suspicious countenance didn’t change and Molly laid their hands flat against the table and studied the human once more. When they spoke again, their tone was no longer that service type cheerful, instead low and intrigued.

“I thought perhaps with the way Veth spoke of you, she was the protective one in your relationship. It seems I’ve found myself mistaken.” Before Caleb could think to ask what they meant by that, Molly was continuing on. “I understand wanting to protect your own, more than you could fathom I reckon, but believe me when I say your friend will be looked after here. Our employees are family, and everyone in this family is a just a little of the right side of dangerous. She’ll fit in just fine.”

It was a few tense seconds later, Caleb scrutinizing every infinitesimal shift in Molly’s face for signs of deception, that Veth came trotting back out from behind the bar. She carried a steaming plate in each hand and placed them carefully on the table before taking a moment to pat Caleb on his knee as she smiled up at him.

Molly seemed to take that as their cue to leave, pushing to their feet and vacating the seat for Veth. Traipsing back behind the bar with a cheerful wave to Veth’s call of thanks, Molly went back to working at the stains on the bar with Caleb inspecting them.

“Caleb?” Veth’s shrill voice pulled the human back to his senses, blinking at the Halfling across from him. “Are you alright?”

“Ja,” Caleb was quick to reassure her, looking down at his food and feeling his stomach rumble. Right…lunch had been hours ago, and the sun was arching to the horizon now. He always was rather shit at keeping to a fixed schedule outside of work.

“How was your afternoon?” Veth asked after a pause in which she inspected him the way a mother would her child when she didn’t quite believe them. “Did you find that book on decoding ancient languages you were searching for?”

“Ah, not quite,” Caleb said, picking up his fork to appease his companion’s motherly stare. “Apparently another student checked it out a week ago. I am willing to wait, just grateful the library has a copy.”

It didn’t take long from there for the two to dissolve into idle chatter between bites of their food. Caleb had to admit to himself that it was rather tasty—warm and seasoned well. He wasn’t much of a cook himself, but he knew a tasty meal when he had one. Veth eagerly divulged details of her new gig within the bar when Caleb finally diverted the conversation away from the events of his day.

“I get to wear a mask!” Caleb blinked at Veth’s excited proclamation, wondering if perhaps he had misheard her. “To hide my identity!”

“Why…would you need to do that?” Caleb asked, glancing with now nervous fervor around the bar. Patrons looking for dinner now occupied a few of the tables, and Caleb wondered if he had missed something. This place didn’t seem intensely shady, but now he worried.

“It’s not like that,” Veth correctly assumed and waved away Caleb’s concerns. “I told Molly that I was worried about being recognized, is all. I’m fine being seen during the day when it’s just a restaurant, but I don’t want people seeing me at night and getting the wrong idea. They might use it against Yeza or Luc, and I don’t want that. Molly was more than understanding and we decided a mask and fake name might work. It’s like I’m a spy!”

Caleb studied her face quietly, eventually sighing and giving his friend a tiny smile. With a quiet consolation of, “as long as you are safe and happy here, I’m happy for you.”

Beaming across the table at him, Veth reached over to pat her tiny hand against his before going back to her food. Caleb took another moment to scan around the interior, taking it all in, committing it all to memory, before resuming his own meal. They kept on with shiftless snippets of conversation until their plates were empty and Molly came to collect Veth for continued training.

As Veth scooped up their plates from the table and left Caleb with a parting kiss on the cheek, Molly leaned their hands against the back of Veth’s vacated seat. Those solid red eyes bore into Caleb again and the human steeled his will against the urge to look away. Whatever Molly was searching for, they seemed appeased by what they found, a broad grin stretching across their lips.

“Well, lovely to meet you, Mr. Caleb,” Molly’s light accent swirled like honeyed whiskey over Caleb. They pushed off the back of the chair and waved a casual hand in a wide gesture around the interior of the bar. Turning their back to walk towards the kitchen after Veth, they called over their shoulder, “stick around a while, if you’d like. We’re open a while longer.”

Caleb had to admit, he wasn’t sure where that invitation had come from, but he had nothing better to do. He could go back to his apartment and read through the books tucked into his bag, but he and his roommate both kept odd hours, and Caleb didn’t quite feel like being entirely alone just yet. The restaurant was fairly empty, and quiet enough for him to concentrate, so he figured there was no harm in waiting around under the guise of wanting to leave with Veth.

With that decided, Caleb settled into his seat and pulled a book at random free from his bag. Nose tucked firmly between the pages, he barely acknowledged the passage of time or events happening around him as he took every word in. It was a great ability for his habits of study, but detrimental at times when he found himself in public places.

He was only reminded of the latter effect when he looked up what must have been a couple hours later. He found himself surrounded by loud music, varying stages of drunk individuals, and—apparently—in the middle of a drag performance.

#cr #critical role #caleb widogast #beauregard lionett #fjord #yasha #yasha nydoorin #veth brenatto #nott the brave #jester lavorre #caduceus clay #mollymauk #mollymauk tealeaf #writing #mine #my writing #beauyasha #teahaw #widomauk

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candyshua · 4 years

Text

When Our Star Burns Out || Jeon Wonwoo x Reader

When you meet a strange boy by the name of Wonwoo through a game of dodgeball, you would have never expected him to change your life the way he did.

Genre: Heavy angst & tooth-rotting fluff

Word Count: 10,121

Warnings: Death, alcohol, mentions of sex, cursing, & cancer

A/N: i really hope you guys enjoy this. i spent so long writing this and i’m actually quite proud of it!! this is a very long oneshot as you can see, but i really hope you guys like it:))

You and Wonwoo had met in one of the most odd and unconventional ways a pair of human beings could possibly ever meet. You were 17 at the time, in the prime of your rebellious phase. You had always hated the way the world worked, with its cruel and unjust ways. You had worn colorless clothing, dyed your hair red without asking your parents (they made you dye it back to its original color the day after they found out), and got your belly button pierced with a fake ID. It was safe to say that you did things your way, and your way only.

Yet, somehow, you found yourself at your friend’s birthday party in a trampoline park on a Friday night, when you could be drinking or smoking or literally anything else besides that. It was the middle of January, yet the cold weather outside didn’t even compare to the cold words you had told your friend, Jinah, when she invited you.

“What are we, elementary school kids? That sounds fucking lame.” You had hissed. Jinah, however, was used to you and your off-putting ways.

“There will be free food and cake. All you have to do is get me a stupid gift and show up.”

And so you had found yourself at the trampoline park on that fateful January night. It was called Jumping and Jittering, which made you want to projectile vomit all over the neon-lit letters in front of the building. When you had walked inside, you were greeted with bunches of little kids running around and screaming. You instantly regretted showing your face at that stupid party.

The place was huge, though. The ceilings were very high, and its walls were an uncharming orange hue. In the way back, there were many mini trampolines where people could jump freely. There was also an obstacle course, a jousting station where kids fell into pits of plush, and most importantly, the dodgeball section. You were attracted to it immediately, and you somehow found yourself leading Jinah and the attendees of her party to said place.

And then, you saw him. Once you walked into the game of dodgeball, your eyes locked with a rather handsome and pleasant looking boy, who seemed to be around your age. You immediately looked away after you made eye contact, ignoring the sudden jolts of electricity that dashed around your entire body, leaving you with an uneasy warm feeling. His narrow yet alluring dark brown eyes perfectly contrasted with his goofy smile that he flashed to one of his friends. His nose was wide and its bridge wasn’t very prominent, but you found it extremely endearing. You had stopped yourself from further observing him, since you found yourself associating the word “endearing” with a random boy’s nose.

Yet, his lovely tufts of black hair that fell over his forehead just perfectly left your heart beating rapidly.

Before you knew it, the game of dodgeball had begun. You were always quite the athlete, even when you were little, you were always challenging boys who thought they were the best. That athleticism had stuck with you for a very long time.

You found yourself picking up a plush orange ball, and you locked eyes with the stupid, handsome boy and threw it as hard as you could. You didn’t know where this competitive mood had stemmed from, but all you knew was that you wanted to get that boy out.

He had underestimated you and your strength, seeing as he reached out to it with one hand, expecting to catch it and get you out. However, the ball hit him in the arm, and despite the ball’s softness, the impact kind of hurt. The referee (a young man with a very sad look on his face) had monotonously motioned for the boy you had hit to get out. So, the handsome guy gave you a mischievous yet playful glare and trudged off the trampolines and off to the side.

After getting him out many more times, the playfulness in his eyes was replaced with a fiery determination to beat you. Soon, everybody else except you two were out, and the stranger kept giving you a very dirty look. You were sure he was taking this way too seriously, since you were barely breaking a sweat from the amount of physical activity you had endured.

There was one ball left, and it was in his hands. You had nonchalantly jumped in place on one of the trampolines, letting him get in his own head. Jinah and her entourage were cheering for you, but you knew you were going to win with or without them. This handsome boy’s main flaw was that he was far too emotional--you didn’t know his name but you could already tell that.

So, when he threw the ball at you at a seemingly unstoppable pace, you had caught it (you’ll admit it, with some effort) and smiled deviously. Everybody from Jinah’s party started to cheer, and you even found yourself basking in your own victory. The poor boy looked mortified.

After the excitement died down, you stood at a vending machine waiting for the water you just bought to come down. However, it stayed lodged between the glass and the shelf.

“God dammit!” You cursed, helplessly shaking the machine in hopes of getting your water. Sadly, it was to no avail, the water bottle was stubborn and didn’t move an inch.

You were just about to walk away until you locked eyes with the guy you had publicly humiliated. You blinked twice to make sure you weren’t imagining him walking your way.

You didn’t exactly know what to do. To be honest, you didn’t plan on ever interacting with the handsome stranger ever again. However, he intended on interacting with you.

After a very long 15 seconds, he was finally right in front of you.

“You’re really good at dodgeball,” He murmured nervously, “I didn’t expect it.”

“Thanks.”

(You weren’t really the best conversationalist.)

He looked a little discouraged at your bland response, but he wasn’t going to give up.

“My name’s Jeon Wonwoo. What’s yours?”

You blushed a bit, wondering why he was interested in knowing your name. How was such a handsome guy like Wonwoo trying to get to know you?

“My name is Y/L/N Y/N.”

“That’s a cool name.”

“Thanks.”

(You internally cursed at yourself, hating the way you were awkward and shitty at talking to people.)

He was just about to walk away awkwardly until you stopped him. You don’t know what weird force had gotten into you, but you didn’t want your encounter with this very handsome boy to end so quickly.

“Hey, could you help me with this?” You questioned, feeling heat rush to your cheeks. Wonwoo turned around and flashed you his pearly whites, and in that fateful moment, you knew that you wanted him in your life. His beautiful smile made you feel things you had never felt before. You didn’t exactly know why this boy was making you feel like your entire body was melting from his warmth. All you knew was that he was very cute, and he had a nice smile.

He walked past you and shook the vending machine once, and then plop. The water bottle fell and you gave Wonwoo a very shy grin.

“Thank you...Wonwoo.”

“No problem, Y/N.”

After a very anticipant silence, Wonwoo spoke up.

“Can I um...get your number?”

Oh thank God, you thought, I thought I was going to be the one to ask.

“Yeah, of course.” You responded a little too quickly.

Was that too eager? Was Wonwoo already turned off? Did he now want nothing to do with you?

That was kind of your specialty--making people want to have absolutely nothing to do with you.

Yet, Wonwoo didn’t budge. In fact, he found your eagerness quite relieving. He had thought the attraction was one-sided.

(It wasn’t.)

You were freaking out, to say the least. It was the end of January, and you thought you were going to die of excitement and nervousness.

You and Wonwoo had been texting non-stop for the past few weeks, and he finally mustered up the courage to ask you on a date. He asked you to go see a horror movie with him, to which you happily obliged. You loved horror movies.

You didn’t exactly know what to wear, so you stuck with a maroon sweater and a regular pair of blue denim jeans. You put on a nice pair of converse, not wanting to try too hard. Your hair was stylishly let down as well.

Once you heard the honking of a car from outside your house, you bid your parents farewell and eagerly ran out the door. You had learned Wonwoo was only a year older than you. He was in his first year of university and he absolutely adored it--he majored in film. His dream was to be an amazing filmmaker, which you had found extremely endearing.

Once Wonwoo had laid his eyes on you, his mouth had fallen slightly agape. He thought your simple outfit complimented your entire demeanor perfectly. You looked angelic amid the cold winter night. Your cheeks and the tip of your nose were red, which made Wonwoo’s insides feel odd. There was no other way to put it, he didn’t feel normal--he felt weird and unusual. But, it wasn’t a bad kind of weird.

After the movie ended, Wonwoo had learned that you--like him--could handle horror movies quite well. He had found you incredibly cool, and he thought your charisma multiplied exponentially each time he learned something new about you.

Finally, you had arrived back to Wonwoo’s car after running to it in the freezing cold. The city lights of Seoul were seen in the distance, but you had wished you could’ve seen the stars instead.

“I love stars.” You blurted while curled up in a ball in the passenger seat of his car. He chuckled at your adorable nature and put his jacket on you like a blanket. You ignored the quickening pace of your heart and the heat rising to your cheeks despite the ungodly cold weather.

“Why?” Wonwoo probed, eyeing you shyly. This was new, exciting, yet comforting. You were loving every second of whatever this was. Dating? Friendship? Whatever it was, you didn’t want it to stop. Ever.

“Well, I mean, they’re pretty far away, right?”

“Right.”

(Wonwoo tried to stifle a smile that broke out since you were so goddamn adorable, but he failed miserably.)

“Yet, we’re still seeing their light. Even if they’re many light-years away, their light still got to us. Hell, the star could’ve even burned out by now--but we still got to see them.”

You had looked at Wonwoo shyly, expecting him to laugh at you and your stupid interests.

Instead, however, you were pleasantly surprised.

“That is quite a nice way to look at it. It makes me...feel at ease. Like I know I’ll always have the stars to depend on.”

Wonwoo’s words had made you want to kiss him right then and there. However, your words were quicker than your actions (or lips).

“Yes! Thank you, god! Everybody always calls me stupid for thinking like that...Or annoying. Or both!” You joyously shouted, making Wonwoo’s smile widen even more.

“You’re cute.” Wonwoo blurted, which made you freeze up. Despite the heat you were receiving from Wonwoo’s jacket and your own clothing, you felt oddly chilly.

Yet, it was a good kind of chilly. You liked it a lot.

“So are you.” You had retorted, wondering where the bravery to flirt came from.

Suddenly, you had felt infinitely grateful to Jinah and to the fact that you attended her stupid birthday party. You also felt grateful to your athleticism, your competitive nature, and of course, to Jeon Wonwoo.

The beautiful winds of spring had kissed your skin just right. You walked through the fair, hand-in-hand with Wonwoo. To say that you were at ease would be an understatement--you felt so much more than that. Despite having just gotten off an extremely scary ride, you were content and tranquility flowed throughout your veins.

Wonwoo, however, was still shaken up from that rollercoaster. You led the both of you to a table by the concessions and made Wonwoo sit down.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” You asked, worry prominent in your voice. Wonwoo then felt his heart ache dramatically, and he had come to the realization that he hated seeing you hurt. He could hear the pain laced into your voice, and he knew that he was the cause of it. It felt absolutely awful.

You then sat down next to Wonwoo and took his hands in yours. “You can tell me anything, you know…”

With those words, Wonwoo had found himself surprisingly opening up to you. You two had been dating for about three months now, yet Wonwoo could be very stoic at times. You had wanted to learn more about your boyfriend, but he had trouble trusting people.

However, you were different. Ever since the night of your first date, he knew he could trust you. He was just scared of opening up and then losing you. The last thing in the world he wanted was to lose you.

So, you had learned about Wonwoo’s fear of rollercoasters, which stemmed from the problems he had with his parents.

His parents didn’t support him or any of his artistic endeavors. They had wanted him to be a doctor, since he had a mighty sharp brain that could do something more “productive” than making films. However, Wonwoo rebelled, saying that being a doctor just wasn’t his dream. His parents were never supportive.

He recalled one time in his early childhood where he went on a rollercoaster, but his parents had refused to go with him. And, in that moment, 8-year-old Wonwoo had felt terribly alone. That feeling of loneliness stuck with him until the day he moved out of his childhood home.

“I know it seems trivial,” Wonwoo began after explaining himself, “but it’s me. It’s why I hold you so close, it’s because you listen. You support me, and I’ve never really had that before.”

Your eyes bored into Wonwoo’s dark irises with intensity. Before the rational and cowardly side of you could deny, you had pressed your lips against his with fervor and love.

Love.

You had loved Wonwoo, to the point where he was always in the back of your mind. Little things like the smell of mint or horror movies would make you think of him. Whenever he was the center of your attention, your insides pooled with warmth. He made you feel human, like you could finally breathe again.

You had hated the world, it was horrible and cruel. People were worse. However, whenever you were with Wonwoo, you forgot about the terrors of the world and your hatred towards people.

You finally pulled away and gave him a playful stare.

“Sorry.” You giggled.

“It’s okay.” Wonwoo gave you a lazy smirk.

You gave him one last peck on the lips, and then backed up on the bench you were both sitting on. The sky was blue and cloudless. There were many people all walking in different directions around the two of you. Children’s laughter could be heard among the bustle of life, yet all you could focus on was the man in front of you. You wanted to bask in the moment and observe every little detail of the atmosphere, including Wonwoo’s black skinny jeans and simple white t-shirt along with your red blouse and black leggings. It was your first kiss with Wonwoo (or with anyone for that matter) and you didn’t want to forget it,

“I hate everything--well, I used to.” You blurted.

Wonwoo then gave you a puzzled look.

“Why?”

You sighed while you shifted nervously in your seat, and then you finally decided to open up to him--he had just done the same to you. It felt right.

“When I was five, I was put into foster care. My mother could no longer take care of me, despite not having any financial troubles. To sum it up, I was a burden. And, it hurt--a lot.

“Yet, after three years of being in foster care, my new parents had found me. They took me in and, for a short period of time, I felt like I was theirs. I didn’t feel like an abandoned piece of trash.

“Sadly, I had to start my new school. The kids there were absolutely horrible to me, they would steal from me and call me names. I was nine. But, I grew up and I learned how to stand up for myself. It led me to be friends with Jinah, and then I met you.”

Wonwoo stared at you with his big, innocent eyes. His respect for you had just been multiplied by a thousand. He kissed you again (mainly because he wanted to initiate at least one kiss), and then he hugged you tightly, as if he never wanted to let go.

(You didn’t want him to.)

“What do you want to do with your life, Y/N?” Wonwoo asked you while the two of you stared at the stars on a summer evening. The sudden question had startled you.

“Well, damn, I don’t know.”

Wonwoo scoffed and turned on his side so he could look at you. You glanced at him very briefly, staying on your back. You were enjoying that particular date, since Wonwoo had taken you to the countryside so you two could look at the stars without them being overshadowed by the city lights. You had told your parents you were going on a drive with Jinah, but they saw right through your lie.

However, they didn’t call you out on it. They saw the way your lips slightly curled upwards when you thought of what you were about to do. They knew you loved him.

You let yourself bask in the silence and contemplated Wonwoo’s million-dollar-question. You hadn’t really figured that out yet. You were an exemplary student, and all of the colleges you had applied to accepted you. However, you didn’t exactly know what you wanted your career to be.

“Well?” Wonwoo cooed, giving you a small smile.

“Um…”

You were silent for a bit--until it hit you.

“Oh! I know!”

Wonwoo glared at you.

“How about you tell me?” He sarcastically exaggerated. He couldn’t contain his smile, though. You were just too damn cute.

“I want to be a writer.”

Wonwoo grinned widely.

“We have similar interests, don’t we?”

You shrugged. You tore your gaze from the sky to look at Wonwoo again.

“I just have a lot of ideas. I think I could write them down, and then make them into a story. I don’t really know, to be honest. I’m just kind of winging it.”

Wonwoo laughed at that. You playfully glared at him and stuck out your tongue. After Wonwoo’s eyes averted from your gaze and went back to look at the stars, you felt the feeling of happiness melt into your blood.

You knew you would remember that moment for the rest of your life. And, when you would get sad, you would force yourself to think about it. You would force yourself to think about Wonwoo’s beautiful smile, and his smooth black hair, along with his lanky limbs yet well-built body.

“Thank you, Wonwoo.” You murmured shyly.

“For what?”

“For playing dodgeball that one stupid night.”

It was an odd feeling--knowing that the foundation of your relationship was some stupid game of dodgeball. It was also odd to think about how long ago that night in January felt, when it really was only seven months ago.

Wonwoo smirked and then scooted over to you, and planted a wet kiss right on your lips. You smiled into the kiss, wanting him to know that he made you happy--that he made you smile.

Wonwoo had driven you two back to the motel you were staying at for the night. And then the kisses you two shared turned into something more serious, more fervent. Before you knew it, your clothes were off, and then Wonwoo was inside of you, and then you were no longer a virgin.

Once you two were finished, he cleaned you up and then snuggled up next to you, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

“I love you.” You confessed with a quiet voice.

“Finally.” Wonwoo laughed.

“What?”

“Finally. It was about time one of us said it. I love you too, Y/N.”

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding.

You fell asleep in each other’s arms that night, knowing nothing but your love for one another.

You had started Seoul University. It was a huge change, to say the least. Your classes were stressful, pain-inducing, and time-consuming. However, you were skating by in terms of grades--your GPA was very high and your grades were amazing.

One day, your creative writing professor had called you to meet him right after class. Your mind automatically went to the worst possible reasons as to why he wanted to meet with you. Were you in trouble? Did you do bad on an essay? Oh god, was he going to seduce you?

“Hi, Professor.” You nervously greeted while avoiding his gaze.

“Don’t worry, you’re not in trouble. It’s quite the contrary, actually.” He must have sensed your apprehension. Were you really that easy to read?

You finally made eye contact with him. You cocked your head to the side, as if your curiosity was a sign for him to continue.

“Your latest story was absolutely amazing, so I submitted it to some publishers in New York I’m friends with, and they absolutely loved it.”

Oh god.

“And you said you speak English, right?”

You nodded slowly. You swore your heart was in your throat.

“Well, they want you to go to New York for a year and work under them. They see potential in your work, Y/N. As a matter of fact, a lot of people do. I recommend that you do it, it’s a huge publishing company and they could really get your name well known. Plus, it’s kind of a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity.”

You didn’t know how to react. Were you supposed to be happy? Excited? Why was your first thought about Wonwoo?

“I’ll think about it.” You sighed, trying to fight the sudden solemn mood you were put in. This was supposed to be great news, but why did it feel like you were losing?

You contemplated not telling Wonwoo at all, since you were almost certain that you were going to turn the offer down. But, Wonwoo could read you like a book, so when he came to pick you up after your literature class, he knew something was wrong. You weren’t your usual talkative and passionate self, you seemed hollow.

“What’s wrong, Y/N?” Wonwoo questioned with concern laced in his voice. You had sucked in an uneasy and sharp breath, wondering if it was even worth telling him.

“I got an offer.”

“Elaborate.” “Okay, so, I got an offer to work under these really famous publishers. They read a short story of mine and they want to see more of me.”

Wonwoo furrowed his eyebrows intently and cocked his head to the side.

“And this is bad because?”

“Because I’d have to go to New York City for a year.”

Silence.

Wonwoo’s lips pressed into a firm line after your soul-crushing words. Wonwoo knew you were talented and extremely intelligent.

“I don’t think I’m gonna take it, though.”

Wonwoo gave you a look that somewhat resembled anger. He was mightily conflicted.

“Do it.” He surprised himself when he said that.

Wonwoo’s words had hit you like a punch in the gut. Why was he encouraging you? Did he want you out of his life?

“But I--”

“Do it, Y/N. Don’t stay for me, please. This isn’t what you want--you don’t want to turn down amazing opportunities for me. You don’t want a simple life, do you?”

He waited for you to answer. He then gave you a very stern look, and you were coaxed into answering.

“No, I don’t.”

You didn’t, that was true. You couldn’t possibly imagine settling down for a mundane and safe life. You wanted excitement, you didn’t want to work in a job and have to climb the corporate ladder. No, you wanted to follow your dreams.

“Exactly. I love you, Y/N. And, since I love you, I’m not going to stop you. This is your dream.”

You knew he was right. You knew that this was your dream, and you shouldn’t be putting it on hold for a man. Despite your earth-shattering love for Wonwoo, you couldn’t let that get in the way of your dreams.

“I’ll be gone for a year--at least. That means…”

You couldn’t even bear to finish the sentence. You felt a lump in your throat start to form, and then the tears started to fall effortlessly. You were a sobbing mess, but Wonwoo held you and calmed you down, repeatedly saying “I love you” and “it’s okay”.

Wonwoo’s words had always been able to calm you down, but in that moment, his words only made your heartache worsen.

You broke up with Wonwoo the night before you left. The both of you knew it was coming, the inevitability of the entire situation was unstoppable.

You had showed up in front of Wonwoo’s house at around 11 PM, waiting for him to come down right after you called him. The look in his eyes said that he knew, and that it was okay.

“Hi.” You managed to muster. Your voice had already cracked from the oncoming onslaught of tears.

“Hey.” Wonwoo’s eyes were warm, and he gave you a sad smile. He took a step closer to you and kissed you on the lips softly, as if it was his way of saying goodbye.

“I love you, um, a lot.”

“I know.”

“You know if you tell me not to go, I won’t. I’ll stay here with you.”

You knew you had wanted to go, but Wonwoo had this insurmountable power over you. His opinion mattered so goddamn much, and if he wanted you to do (or not do) something, he just had to say the word.

“I’m not a selfish person, Y/N. You know that.”

You were already breaking down. Wonwoo’s bottom lip was quivering, and you could tell he was trying to keep it all together for you.

“You can cry, you know.” You forlornly chuckled. He returned the sad laughter, and soon he started to sob just like you.

You took a step closer to him and tried to take in everything about that night. The smattering of stars in the sky, the way Wonwoo’s porch light was flickering, and the way your heart was breaking.

“I love you.” Wonwoo whispered, his voice breaking. You let yourself soak in those three words for a bit.

Long distance could never work. The difference between timezones, the loneliness, just everything about it was so off-putting. So, that was off the table.

And, despite your love being so strong and real, it couldn’t change the way reality worked. And, the reality of everything was that this was most likely the end. You were both young and in love, but there was no realism in the idea of staying together forever.

You then looked at Wonwoo’s chocolate orbs and took in a deep breath.

“Let’s break up.”

All Wonwoo could do was nod and give you the world’s saddest smile. You finally maneuvered your way out of his touch and gave him one last wave goodbye, almost as to say “I’ll never forget you”.

How could you ever forget Jeon Wonwoo?

You were absolutely exhausted. You were about to drown in fatigue until your friend, Cynthia, came and shook you awake.

“It’s time to go home. Need a ride?” She offered, but you shook your head tiredly.

“No thanks, my boyfriend is gonna pick me up. Thanks, though.”

Finally, your boyfriend Joshua arrived in his lovely car. You trudged to the vehicle and you forced yourself to keep your eyes open. You finally opened the car door and gave him a lazy kiss before shutting it.

“Tired?” Joshua asked, amusement prominent in his tone.

“Joshua Hong, I really hope you’re not entertaining yourself with my pain right now.” You half-jokingly hissed, which just led to Joshua chuckling quietly.

“Where to?”

“Your apartment. No sex, though--too tired.”

“Understood.”

You laid in Joshua’s bed and scrolled through your phone mindlessly. You heard the shower running, but you were just too tired to join him.

Suddenly, while scrolling through Instagram, you had gotten a follow request. Ever since you permanently moved to New York, you had gotten a new Instagram account, wanting to snip the roots of your old life.

You had went to New York for a year, went back to Seoul and graduated, and then you moved back after you fell in love with the city. It had been two years since your graduation, and it was safe to say things were looking up for you career wise. At the promising age of 24, it felt like there was nothing you couldn’t do.

But then your jolly mood had dropped completely once you saw Jeon Wonwoo’s name flash on your screen. He had found your Instagram.

Despite only seeing his name, you found your heart beating slightly more rapid than its usual pace.

Out of instinct, you stalked his account (which was public) before you accepted his request. You noticed how there was a huge absence of any females in his post, just Wonwoo and his friends from back home. He had no bio, and his profile picture was a picture of the night sky with lots of stars.

It was a different account than the one he had when you two were younger. However, it still screamed Wonwoo. Although you were only seeing what he wanted the world to see, you felt as if he didn’t change at all.

Before you could talk yourself out of it, you accepted his follow request. What was the worst that could happen?

You had moved on. Wonwoo was your first love, but the blazing days of your youth were over. Now, you were an adult. You were more mature and you had a steady yet exciting job. Your boyfriend of two years loved you dearly.

You felt safe. You felt secure.

So, letting Wonwoo follow your Instagram account wouldn’t do any harm whatsoever. None at all.

You woke up to an incessant ringing. You groaned out of reaction, blindly reaching for your phone.

“God, why is your alarm on? It’s Saturday.” Joshua grumbled with his raspy morning voice.

“I turned my alarm off. Someone’s calling me.”

You then look at the caller ID, which read “Dad”. Why was he calling you at such an odd time?

You pressed the green “answer” button and put the phone up to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Y/N, you need to come back home. Your mother is sick.”

It was 4 in the morning, and you were desperately hailing a taxi. You finally succeeded, and you told the driver your home address after he finished boarding your luggage. Despite Korean being your first language, it felt foreign on your tongue.

Once you arrived home, you paid the man and brought your luggage inside with the help of your father. The reunion was bleak and filled with sorrow. Your father’s hopeless demeanor said it all.

Breaking up with Joshua had given you major deja vu. You were the one leaving, yet again. But, Joshua was an incredible and understanding man, so there were no hard feelings. It hurt beyond belief to leave him and New York, but you weren’t going to stay there and leave your parents all by themselves. You may have been selfish at times, but when people truly needed you, you were there for them.

Once the two of you finished unpacking your luggage, your father drove you to the hospital. It had been a week since your father had called you, but unpacking everything and breaking up with your boyfriend weren’t exactly speedy processes.

The car ride was deadly silent, as if saying anything would make things worse.

Apparently, your mother had been having horrible migraines, to the point where she could barely see. So, your father took her to the doctor’s one day, and they found it she had a brain tumor.

It was operable, but the surgery was extremely risky, with a ten percent success rate. The reality of the situation didn’t really sink in until you saw your mother’s frail body laying down on a hospital bed. Your eyes immediately were filled to the brim with tears at the sight of her.

“Hi Mom.” You croaked, trying not to let her see you cry.

“Y/N...I missed you.”

You stifled an oncoming sob.

“I missed you too.” You wallowed in the silence. Oh god, it all felt so real--too real. Soon, the regrets started to flood into you, attacking you like a tidal wave.

You would call your mother once a week, and they would last from ten to fifteen minutes. She would want to talk more, but you were just so damn busy.

You watched your mother intently. Her eyes were closed and her chest was barely rising with each breath. You contained yourself from downright sobbing.

Suddenly, you heard the door creak open. You turned your head and expected to finally meet one of the doctors, but you were greeted with someone you had never expected to see in person ever again.

Jeon Wonwoo.

“Wonwoo…” Your mother mumbled after opening her eyes, giving him a weak smile. Your mouth fell agape at the sight of him. He had...grown up. His hair was still the same black color, but it was now curly and more voluminous. He had become much more muscular and built--he wasn’t the same lanky and scrawny boy you had remembered. His eyes were no longer doe-like, they seemed sage and mature.

He was expecting to see you, but you still managed to catch him off guard. He gave you a weak smile and handed you a coffee, which you took with hesitation.

“Hi, Wonwoo.”

He smiled. Oh god, that damn smile. Suddenly, you were seventeen again, and the center of your universe was Jeon Wonwoo.

It had barely been two minutes of reuniting with him, yet you already felt like you were about to implode from warmth. Did meeting exes always feel this way? Like the feelings were still somewhere in the air, lingering?

“Hi, Y/N.”

His voice sounded the same. It was still deep, smooth, and song-like. You realized you didn’t need the coffee anymore, you were already wide-awake.

You had learned that Wonwoo had been taking care of your mother alongside your father while you were gone. That added to the insurmountable guilt you felt.

You had also learned that Wonwoo was working on a film, to which you were pleasantly surprised.

The two of you sat on your front lawn and chattered over some beer and finger-foods. The moon hung low in the sky, and the late-summer wind felt nice against your skin. You found yourself looking at the stars, just like that one night with Wonwoo.

“So, Y/N, how have you been?”

Wonwoo had tried to act as nonchalant as possible. He didn’t want you to know that he was still madly in love with you.

“Um, good, I guess. My job was going really well...I managed to transfer to one of their offices in Korea, so that’s a relief.”

Wonwoo nodded, listening intently.

“I um, had a boyfriend.” You saw his content eyes waver a bit.

Ouch.

Wonwoo tried to hide his hurt with a surprised, fabricated grin.

“Obviously, it didn’t work out. He was Korean, but he didn’t want to come back to Korea with me. So, um...we ended it.”

Wonwoo had downed another beer by then. You gave him an empty chuckle and followed in suit.

After a few more drinks, everything else was a blur. Suddenly, you and Wonwoo were kissing, taking each other’s clothes off, and then sleeping side-by-side, holding each other like nothing had changed.

You awoke with a killer headache. You had reached to your nightstand to grab some Advil, but you were bound to Wonwoo. His long and muscular arms were snaked around your waist, and he was holding onto you for dear life.

And then the memories of last night came flooding into your mind, each memory more painful than the last.

Yet, being in Wonwoo’s arms just felt so natural, like you were supposed to be there. With him.

Maybe you were supposed to be with him all along.

“Wonwoo, get up.” You croaked, and you heard him mumble a noise of disapproval.

“Let’s stay like this for a bit more, please.”

You sighed.

“Okay.”

The next day, you avoided Wonwoo like the plague. He texted you multiple times, along with a few missed calls. You were too preoccupied with taking care of your mother anyway.

You had caught up with your mother, and she learned much more about Joshua than you would let her know over the phone. You noticed the way her smile didn’t reach her eyes when you talked about him.

Yet, when Wonwoo walked into the room, the spark in her eyes was back.

“Hey Mrs. Y/L/N, I brought you some bread from the bakery you like.” Wonwoo smiled, holding up a brown paper bag. Once he came over to the both of you and handed your mother the bag, he motioned for you to meet him outside of the room.

You didn’t want to talk to him about what had happened, that was an undeniable fact. You didn’t want to come to terms with your underlying feelings, because you were so scared. You were scared of opening up to Wonwoo again, you were scared because Wonwoo made you feel like you were young and reckless again.

He had this placid power over you, and it never truly died down over the years of being without him. You may have suppressed it to the back of your mind, but the moment your life got entangled with Wonwoo’s again, you were vulnerable.

Being with Wonwoo again after all of those years made you feel like Joshua never existed. Like you never moved to New York, like you two had never broken up. Why was your love for him so unmatched? Why couldn’t you move on?

You could forget about Wonwoo for a bit, but the moment you would go face-to-face with the man, everything came back. So, no, you didn’t want to meet Wonwoo outside of the room.

Yet, you still did. And you let him take your hand in his and walk you outside, to the courtyard. You let him look at you like he still loved you, and you let yourself return his love-filled gaze.

He sat you down on a bench. The sky was gray and cloudy that day, and the weatherman said it was going to rain. The sun was hidden behind the fluffy clouds, but you still felt warm when Wonwoo held your hand in his.

Despite the fact that there were many people walking around the yard, when Wonwoo’s eyes met yours, you felt as if the two of you were alone. As if it were you and him against the world.

“Hi.” Wonwoo stalled.

“Hi.”

“Should I just get straight to the point?”

You nodded.

“I...um...I never forgot about you. I never truly moved on. I dated girls here and there, but it just wasn’t the same.”

You gulped, feeling a solemn pressure in your chest.

“And, um...I still love you. A lot. And seeing your instagram feed being filled with you and that guy Joshua, it hurt. And I regret drinking with you and sleeping with you, not because it was you, but because I didn’t want to restart things this way.”

You tried to look at anything else besides Wonwoo’s intense gaze. You tried to look at an old lady getting wheeled around, you tried to look at a group of kids playing tag, but you just couldn’t.

Your eyes met Wonwoo’s. You realized that you never felt that level of intensity with Joshua, and it was quite a cryptic epiphany.

All of those years you had spent in New York, you were just pretending to be over Wonwoo. You never were.

Yet, you felt selfish. How dare you endeavor in romance while your mother was dying?

“I can’t.” You sighed, finally tearing your eyes away from Wonwoo. He sucked in a sharp breath, as if he were just cut by a knife. You had debated not explaining to him, but you thought Wonwoo had deserved that much.

“I just can’t do this right now. Not with my sick mom, Wonwoo. I can’t let anything distract me from her right now, I’m sorry.”

Wonwoo shook his head and clenched his jaw.

“This is your problem, Y/N. You always think you’re the problem. Do you wanna know what your mother told me before you came back?”

Silence followed his question. Yes, you wanted to know--of course you did.

“She said that she wanted me to man up and ask you out again. She wants me to marry you, Y/N. Why else would she let me stay by her side all this time? Because she didn’t want me to be in her life?”

Your mom was sneaky, you had to admit. She had always loved Wonwoo.

She loved him because he made you happy.

“Okay.” You whispered. Wonwoo quirked an eyebrow.

“What?”

“I said ‘okay’. Let’s try this thing again.”

Your mother’s funeral was a blur. All you could remember was the bleak colors and Wonwoo’s tight grip on your hand. All you could feel was agonizing, soul-crushing pain. Pain ate at you like a vulture eatings its dead prey, you were a breeding ground for it. After all of the arrangements were done, you had sat in bed for a week, only getting up to go to the bathroom. Wonwoo had brought you food to eat three times a day, but you would barely touch it. All you could think about was the fact that your mother was dead.

She had died about two months after you got home. Your family had decided against the surgery, since it could’ve killed her even sooner. So, she lived out her last two months diligently. She didn’t spend them in a hospital bed, she spent them with her family.

The night she died was also a blur. You had rushed her to the hospital after you came home from work one day and found her collapsed on the ground. There wasn’t much the doctors could do, or at least that was what they said.

And, in that moment, you felt completely and utterly powerless.

Your father was avoiding his emotions, unlike you. You were battling them head on, and you were losing miserably.

Your father would go out to drink at least three to four times a week, and he would come home absolutely shit-faced.

Wonwoo had stayed strong, despite the pain that encapsulated his heart. He would cry silently, when no one else could see. He needed to be strong for you and your father, since the both of you had nobody else.

You returned to work a month after she died, greeting your coworkers emptily. You sat down and reviewed stories that were in the process of getting published, no longer feeling that spark of passion you had once felt while working. Everything was bleak, including you.

Three months after the death of your mother, Wonwoo was lying in bed beside you one night, listening to your steady breathing. “Y/N,” He began, “are you awake?”

“Yes.” You croaked.

“Can I tell you something that might make you mad?”

You didn’t have the energy to object.

“You need to get back to the world of the living now, Y/N.”

At this, you turned around to face him.

“What?”

“You need to come back to life. You’ve been a zombie these past few months, but it’s not what your mother would’ve wanted.”

You felt yourself grow cold at Wonwoo’s truthful words. The pain you were experiencing had emotionally crippled you, and you had given up on about everything. Time had meshed into one big blur, and your memory was hazy; you could barely remember what you had for dinner last night. You started to cry into the crook of Wonwoo’s neck while he hugged you tightly.

“It’s s-so r-real Wonwoo. It’s t-too real.” You cried as he rubbed your back with his warm hands. The ache in your heart had left you breathless. You just missed your mother so much, the longing to see her absolutely consumed you.

“I know...You just need to start living again, Y/N. For her.”

You looked up into Wonwoo’s passionate eyes. You nodded weakly and pursed your lips together in an attempt to halt your sobs.

You thought of your mother who had seen potential in you when nobody else did. When she brought you home with her, she had provided you with your first true family. She wouldn’t be able to stand seeing you wallow in your own self-pity like this.

After a few moments of silence, you bid Wonwoo good night and fell asleep in his arms. You had a hazy dream, all you could muster from it was that it was about your mother.

Slowly, you had started to rebuild your life, along with your father. Every day was painful and a struggle, but you knew your mother would have wanted you to move on. You could do this, you knew you could.

It had been a year since your mother’s passing. Despite the vacancy she left in your life, you no longer felt hollow. And, whenever you thought of a nice memory you had of her, you would smile instead of breaking down. You were getting there.

You couldn’t see anything, the only thing guiding you was Wonwoo’s hand and his voice. “To the right!” He ordered, but you had purposefully went to the left just to spite him. Despite being slightly ticked off at your stubborn nature, he laughed softly.

“Ew, why are your hands so sweaty?” You chuckled, making Wonwoo’s blood run cold.

He was nervous, that’s why! But, he didn’t want to ruin the surprise.

“I dunno.” He coolly responded. You shrugged it off and then started to focus on the task at hand. Where was this stupid man leading you to? And why were you blindfolded?

You suddenly felt fresh air kiss your skin. “Are we outside?”

“Shut up and let me do this?”

“Do what?”

Wonwoo didn’t respond.

You were sure of the fact that you were outside since you felt wisps of grass caress your ankles. It was a lovely July evening, over two years since the death of your mother.

The two of you had come to a sudden halt. You were both staying at a hotel for a weekend, since Wonwoo had suggested you two go on a “getaway”. You happily obliged, not suspecting much from it.

You felt Wonwoo untie the bandana around your eyes. Suddenly, a whole new world had opened up in front of you. There was an abundance of stars in the night sky, and there was a trail of rose petals leading up to the stairs of a gazebo. Wonwoo held your hand and led you down the path as shock filled you up and rattled your bones.

Before you could react to what was about to happen, Wonwoo went down on one knee and pulled out a lovely and very expensive-looking ring.

“Hi.” He laughed with an airy sound.

“H-hi.” You responded, already feeling the urge to cry.

“So, um, you probably have already figured out what I’m about to do. So, let me just say one thing: thank you. Thank you for coming into my life twice, thank you for always being a reason for me to smile. Thank you for teaching me about life and stars. Thank you for being my light.

“I was lonely, once. I had nobody to fall back on. But, on that night when you told me your thoughts on stars, my entire life changed. And, then I realized something--you’re the light a star gives off. You make things brighter, no matter where you go. Your light has reached me, Y/N.

“I think I knew I was in love with you ever since our first date. You had me absolutely smitten. And I-I just fell. Hard. When I lost you the first time, I was heartbroken. Yet, it’s almost like we’re destined to be together, since we found our way back to each other.

“So, I ask you this because I went to spend the rest of my life with you. Y/L/N Y/N, will you marry me?”

At this point you were sobbing uncontrollably. You managed to muster a weak “yes”, but your nodding head was what got the memo across. Wonwoo smiled brightly, his eyes twinkling more than the stars up in the sky.

You held your hand out and he slid the ring on your finger, your heart racing when he touched you, just like the first time.

“I-I love y-you.” You managed to muster, still crying tears of absolute blissful joy.

“I love you too.”

Despite not having financial troubles, the two of you settled for a small and inexpensive wedding. You barely remember anything before the wedding that day because you were so damn nervous. However, you remembered the ceremony just fine.

Your dress was an elegant, typical white wedding dress. Your veil flowed in a lovely manner, and your dress hugged your body just right.

You were 28 years old at the time, and it was an odd feeling to look back on your life before you met Wonwoo. You never wanted to get married, you simply had no interest in romance. Yet, teenage Wonwoo had swept you off your feet that one January evening, and the rest was very complicated history.

The wedding music began to play, and you were just outside the entrance that led to where the love of your life stood. The only thing that was in your way was the walk to him, which was much scarier than people played it out to be. You took in a shaky deep breath and showed your face.

Every head in the hall turned towards you. Your father walked you down with joyful tears in his eyes. It would’ve been amazing if your mother could have made it, but you knew she was watching down on you.

You knew she was proud of you.

After the long walk, you walked up the velvet-covered steps to where Jeon Wonwoo stood. He looked dashing in his standard black-and-white tuxedo. He thought you looked absolutely gorgeous, and he had to contain himself from crying.

Soon, the priest had started his speech. You tuned most of it out and just lovingly stared into Wonwoo’s eyes.

You mouthed I love you and he mouthed love you too. And soon, Wonwoo’s lips were on yours the moment after the priest had said he could kiss you, and you were filled with nothing but pure happiness.

A year had passed just like that. Both of you were very successful in your careers, but you still made time for one another.

That changed after your first wedding anniversary. Wonwoo had become busier and busier, to the point where he was stressed beyond belief. He would go to bed later than you and be out of the bed before you woke up.

“I’m working with a really famous actor,” He would say, “I’m just a bit stressed.”

Suddenly, the mood around the house was solemn and dreadful. You couldn’t remember the last time Wonwoo had told you he loved you, and vice versa.

Wonwoo was coming home late, yet he always had time to update his social media and hang out with his friends. You thought he was just deliberately choosing to not spend his free time with you.

What had happened?

Your initial reaction was self-indulgent. It must have had something to do with you--it was your fault somehow. Yet, when you’d try to get him to go on dates with you just like you used to, he would decline and use the excuse “I’m just so tired”.

You felt used. You were suffering in silence, and no matter how hard you tried to mend your relationship, Wonwoo put in no effort.

One night, you purposely stayed up later so you’d catch Wonwoo before you went to bed. You sat on the couch mindlessly watching TV, waiting for your husband to come home.

When he did, his eyes were bloodshot and his entire demeanor screamed “stress”. You immediately grew timid at the sight of him.

“Hey, Wonwoo.” You greeted when he took his shoes off and hung up his coat. He gave you a weak smile and walked right by you.

You had felt useless; it was almost as if Wonwoo didn’t need you anymore.

What if he had ran out of love for you? The sheer thought made you sick to your stomach. Despite his cold and distant attitude, you were still madly in love with Wonwoo, to the point where it hurt. Your love had felt unrequited all of a sudden, and you didn’t know what to do with yourself, or with him.

“Wonwoo.” You called out, but he kept walking. He must’ve not heard you.

“Wonwoo.” You called out again, this time a bit louder. He stopped dead in his tracks and swiftly turned around. He glared at you with nothing but pure ice in his eyes, and you knew you had fucked up.

“For fuck’s sake, what? Can’t you see I’m a bit stressed here? I would really fucking appreciate it if you weren’t so god damn incessant.”

You pursed your lips together and shut your eyes tightly. You didn’t want him to see you cry (since he was already so stressed), but you just couldn’t hold back the onslaught of tears. His icy words had sliced you open like a sword. You hissed at the unbearable pain you were feeling.

Wonwoo’s expression immediately softened. He ran over to you, but you held a hand as a signal for him to stop when he came near you. You couldn’t live like this anymore.

“I’m done.” You lamented, running past him to go to your room. He followed you like a lost puppy, whimpering empty apologies. You had grabbed a suitcase and went to your dresser, packing everything you owned up in a dramatic and emotional fashion.

“Please, Y/N, don’t leave me. Please…” Wonwoo sobbed, realizing his grave mistakes.

“I’m just gonna go stay at my Dad’s for a bit, okay? So you can figure out whatever the hell you need to, without hurting me.” You hissed. Wonwoo repeatedly shook his head, begging for you to stay. None of this felt real--the absolute pain you were feeling made you crumble. You felt pathetic, like the pain you were experiencing was unprecedented. Like you should give in to Wonwoo and apologize for standing your ground.

Despite the days you’d spent in agony due to this man, there was no denying that you were still madly in love with him. You didn’t want to give up on him, but he left you no choice.

You had to respect yourself.

Once you had finished packing enough clothes that would last you a week, you trudged to the front door, suitcase in hand. Wonwoo followed you pathetically.

You were just about to walk out the door without saying a word, but your heart took over your head for just about a millisecond.

“I’ll call you when I’m ready.”

Then you shut the door behind you, and all Wonwoo could hear was your car driving away and his heart breaking.

A week had passed since you had temporarily moved in with your father. You lay in bed after work that night, staring at the ceiling. Your eyes were red and puffy from crying, like they had been the past week.

You turned over to face your nightstand, where a picture of you and Wonwoo at the fair stood in a frame. That was the day of your first kiss.

You remembered that day like it was yesterday, since it was the day you had learned the both of you trusted each other. Things back then were so new and exciting. What had changed?

Were you really going to give up on Wonwoo? Is that what was truly best for you?

No, it wasn’t. Your heart started to beat rapidly, and then you jumped up out of bed and put an old pair of sneakers on. You then ran to your car, hopping in the driver’s seat.

Shit, it was low on gas.

Your dad was out for the night, so he took his car with him. You murmured a string of curses and then called a taxi. You waited impatiently for the car to arrive, your leg bouncing with nerves that made you want to hunch over and vomit.

The taxi finally arrived after what seemed like forever. You ran into the car and frantically told the poor driver the address of your home, the one you shared with Wonwoo. The love of your life.

He finally pulled up to your house, and you gave him a wad of cash that was way too much, and you ordered him to “keep the change”.

You then ran up to the front door, your hands shaking while you tried to input the key to unlock the door. Before you could succeed, Wonwoo opened the door.

His gaze could’ve drilled a hole in your head. You then began to smile, and you jumped into his arms. He immediately hugged you back.

“Let’s make this work, okay?” You sighed, your face snuggled against his chest.

“Yes, of course.”

You finally pulled apart after about two minutes of just holding each other. The two of you had sat down on your couch, which was promptly placed against the wall. You looked Wonwoo in the eye and swallowed a lump in your throat.

“What’s going on? What made you so stressed?”

Wonwoo took in a sharp breath.

“You know that film I was working on?”

You nodded.

“Well, it almost got cut. The company suddenly hated the idea and the script, and I would’ve lost a shit ton of money it if got cut. I had personally invested in that film, and not to mention, I poured my heart and soul into it. The night we fought, um...they said they were officially gonna cut it. I didn’t have the heart to tell you because I thought you’d be disappointed in me. I was being so selfish I didn’t even see the emotional toll I was taking on you.

“But, while you were gone, I managed to convince my company to take up the movie again. And that just left me some time to wallow in my own guilt and self-hatred.”

You shut your eyes and took a deep breath.

“Please, Wonwoo, tell me everything. I deserve to know…”

Wonwoo nodded as his eyes started to fill with tears.

“I love you, Y/N.”

You gave him a weak smile.

“I love you too, Wonwoo.”

The love you both had for each other was brighter than any star in the sky. You had refused to let the star you both shared burn out.

You knew that you and Wonwoo were meant to be in each other’s lives. The challenges life threw at you led you to one another.

You looked up and met Wonwoo’s passionate gaze. Your light had reached him, and his light had reached you--that was that. Yet, when the time comes for your star to burn out, there is no denying the fact that you had cast light on each other’s lives.

There is no denying the love you had both shared.

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foreverwayward · 5 years

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“Wayward Hearts” Season 3 Chapter 4: Bedtime Stories

Summary: After the Devil’s Gate had been opened that fateful night in the graveyard, the hunters are forced to face a new war. Countless demons now run rampant, hungry for blood and power. It’ll take everything the three have to survive when darkness once again knocks on their door. But, with only a year before Dean’s deal comes due, Sam and Riley will stop at nothing to save him; to save their family.

Masterlist

Word Count: 7,888

Content Warning: language and violence

DISCLAIMER: any words or phrases in bold in the story are not my own and are credited to the writers of Supernatural.

**GIFS ARE NOT MY OWN**

In a random, beat up motel on the east coast, the three hunters packed their things after their most recent case. They finally had the Colt back after Bobby had discovered a way to alter it and to create bullets infused with the same original magic.

Though having the weapon in hand again brought a small relief to the family, there was a palpable tension rising in the room. Riley and Sam were hell-bent on saving Dean from his deal, while he had resigned to his fate.

Riley practically threw her clothes into her duffel bag with a huff. “I don’t get it, Dean. Why? Why not?”

“Because I said so,” he simply stated.

She scoffed, “excuse me?”

“We got the Colt now!” Sam added in frustration. “We can summon the crossroads demon…”

They all began to shout over each other’s words, getting louder each time.

“We're not fucking summoning anything,” Dean barked as he shrugged his jacket on.

“ …we pull the gun on her and force her to let you out of the deal!”

“We don't even know if that'll work!”

Riley jumped back in and threw her hands in the air. “Well, if we shoot the bitch, the deal goes away!”

“We don't know if that'll work either! All you two are pitching me right now is a bunch of ‘ifs’ and ‘maybes’ and that's not good enough, because if we fuck with this deal, you die, Riley!”

“And if we don’t fuck with it, you die, Dean!”

“Enough! I am not going to have this conversation.”

“Why, because you said so?” Sam yelled at him.

“Yes! Because I fuckin’ said so!”

“Well, you're not Dad!”

Riley picked up a glass cigarette tray that sat on the dresser and chucked it across the room in anger. When it hit the wall, it shattered as glass fell to the ground. She had been dealing with her own hurt and frustration and feeling Sam’s and Dean’s as well had brought her to the brink of rage.

“And you’re not my goddamn father either!” Riley yelled. “You don’t get to die for me! I won’t fucking let you!”

The three just stared at each other unsure of what to do next.

Dean finally broke the silence with a quieter but firm voice. “No, but I’m doing what’s best and you’re both going to let this go, you understand me? You don’t get to fuck with this. You’re the one that doesn’t get to die, Riley.”

Throwing her bag over her shoulder and grabbing her guitar case with her free hand, Riley glared at Dean. “I’ll be in the car.”

Dean sighed. “Sam was gonna tell us about the next case…”

As she walked out the door, she just shouted without ever looking back, “I said I’ll be in the car!”

Sam exhaled heavily and went back to packing, slower this time and somewhat defeated. His older brother ran a frustrated hand over his head and clenched his jaw.

The conversations about what would happen in less than seven months weren’t getting any easier.

“Tell me about the psychotic killer,” Dean said trying to move on. When his brother didn’t answer, he pushed. “C'mon, Sam, tell me about the psychotic killer.”

Grabbing a nearby folder, he pulled out a paper and read it monotonously. “Psychotic killer...rips victims apart with brute-like ferocity.”

“Okay, any mention of his razor-sharp teeth or his four-inch claws? Animal eyes?”

“No. But, the lunar cycle's right. Look, if it is a werewolf we don't have long, moon's full this Friday and that's the last time it changes for a month.”

“Two days, no sweat.” Dean grabbed the last of his things and nodded to Sam for them to leave. “Now, a car ride with an angry, pent-up, empathic hunter? ...now that fuckin makes me sweat.”

------

After a long and awkward road trip, Sam, Dean, and Riley had made it to Maple Springs, New York. The victim was still in the hospital recovering and interviewing him was their best shot at finding the possible werewolf.

Dressed in suits, the three stood at the man’s bedside. He was a heavyset guy with strawberry-blonde hair with a matching beard and fair skin. Claw marks near his eye were still healing and bandaged up.

Dean took out his fake badge and the others did the same. “I'm Detective Plant, this is Detective Page.” He then pointed to Riley, “and this is Detective Bonham. We're with the County Sheriff's Department. You’re Kyle, right?”

“Yeah, uh--I've been expecting you,” he replied in a broken voice. “You’re the sketch artists, right?”

The three eyed each other waiting for one of them to come up with an idea.

“Absolutely,” Dean answered with a smile. “Yeah. That’s exactly who my partner is. The things he can do with a pen…” he added as he pat Sam’s shoulder and laughed as his brother glared at him. “But listen, before we get started on that, I wanted to ask you, uh--how'd you get away?”

“I--I have no idea. I was hiding, and he found me. He was coming right for me and then he just...stopped--staring at me with this blank look. And after that, he just took off running.”

Sam sighed as he pulled a notebook and pen from his pocket and acted to be ready to sketch. Riley lightly chuckled under her breath watching how nervous he was. “‘Kay. Um, I'm going to need as much physical detail as you can remember.”

“Uh--yeah. He, uh--he was about six feet tall...dark hair.”

“What about his eyes?” Riley asked. “Do you remember what color his eyes were?”

“Maybe….blue? I mean, it was dark.”

Riley kept leaning on her tiptoes to look over Sam’s shoulder at the drawing. It was enough to finally lighten her mood with how ridiculous the sketch was becoming. “Did his eyes seem...animal-like? Or was there anything strange about his teeth?”

The victim shook his head with confusion and an odd look. “No...they were just...teeth.”

“Fingernails?” Dean chimed in.

“Okay look, he--he's just a--a normal guy, with normal eyes a--a--and teeth and fingernails!” Kyle stammered.

“Look, sir, it's okay if you need to--”

“No. No. Those were my brothers. This guy, he--he,” Kyle’s voice broken further and his eyes welled. “He...killed my brothers. How would you feel?”

Sam paused and his head fell. “Can't imagine anything worse.”

Dean and Riley said nothing in response, still, it struck a chord in the older brother and it forced him to acknowledge the pain the others were feeling. “I know this isn't easy, but if you could remember any more details…”

“Th--there was one more thing he had a--a tattoo on his arm of a cartoon character. Um...it's, uh--it's the guy who's chasing the Roadrunner--”

With a hint of uncertainty and mild humor, Riley added, “you mean Wile E. Coyote?”

A little smirk grew on Dean’s right cheek knowing he was about to give the same answer. She always got him in ways that no one else did, even the little things.

“Yeah, that's it.”

Kyle’s doctor walked into the room in a nice button-up and slacks under his white coat. He was an older man with grey peppered hair and a gentle demeanor. “How you holding up, Kyle?”

“Okay, considering.”

The three held up their badges again to the doctor.

“Are you treating Kyle?” Riley questioned.

“Yes? I’m Doctor Garrison.”

“Mind if I ask you a few questions?” Dean asked as he put away his ID.

The doctor nodded. “Sure.”

As the physician and Dean left the room, Sam and Riley were alone with Kyle.

The man pointed to Sam’s notebook. “Don't I get to see it?”

Riley had to turn herself around not to break out in laughter as Sam chuckled nervously to himself. “Uh--yeah. Yeah. Yeah. Um, yeah, it's a--you know...work in progress.”

The hunter handed the notebook over to Kyle. On the page was a badly drawn stick figure of a man; almost like a child’s drawing.

“Hm,” Kyle murmured. “It--it's really...huh.”

Unable to hide it anymore, Riley chortled through her nose with her back still turned and she immediately hurried out the door.

------

Walking away from the hospital, Riley and the Winchesters headed back for the car they had parked a few blocks over. The sun was shining even though fall had already come and the brisk air nipped at their noses while they still squinted at the light.

Sam and Dean had loosened their ties and Riley pulled her hair out from its bun, shaking it out.

After finally getting a look at Sam’s final drawing, Dean laughed as they walked on. “Boy, this is a piece of, uh--art. Really.”

Sam snatched the notebook from Dean with an annoyed look. “Yeah, like you could've done any better. So, what did the Doc have to say about Kyle's brothers?”

“Not much, they were D.O.A. at the scene. He did give me the lowdown on the coroner's report.”

“Lemme guess, their hearts were missing.”

“Nope. But chunks of their kidneys, lungs, and intestines.”

Riley’s face crinkled with disgust. “Lovely.”

“Yeah, also definitely not werewolf behavior.”

“So…” she paused trying to come up with an idea. “Possession? Attacker didn’t even know he was doing it?”

“Why would a demon stop halfway through an attack?”

“Maybe, it--well, it could have...yeah, I got nothin.” Her phone rang and she stopped to answer it. “Hello? Yes, this is Detective Bonham.” Riley’s eyes went to the brothers as she listened. “Yeah, we’ll be right there.”

As she hung up, the hunter put her cell back in her pocket. “Looks like we’re going back to the hospital.”

------

There was bustling activity around the nurses’ station as the hunters looked for the right room. As they approached the station, two Sheriff’s deputies exited the patient’s room.

“5-0. 5-0,” Riley mumbled under her breath and they all hastily altered course to focus on a set of flowers on the counter to hide their faces.

Once the two deputies passed by, Sam, Dean, and Riley continued down the corridor to the room.

“This whole ‘America’s Most Wanted thing’ is getting real old,” she told them.

“Please, please…” the woman in the bed pleaded with the doctor. Tears ran down her face and she was shaking with emotion.

Riley leaned against the door frame trying to gather herself as the woman’s pain struck her the second she came in the room. The poor woman had lost her husband.

Dean took a step back and whispered to her, “you alright, sweetheart?”

“I’m fine,” she answered plainly and straightened her jacket.

The truth was, Riley’s abilities were drowning her. She still didn’t understand her empathic abilities or how to control them. Weakened by all the pain her family was already under, everything seemed intensified. She just wasn’t about to admit it.

“Shh,” Doctor Garrison told her gently. “Hey, we need to observe you while the drugs still might be in your system.”

“I have to go. I have things to do, arrangements I need to make!”

“It can wait. Now you need to rest. Stay--I'll be back in a few minutes.” The doctor walked toward Riley, Sam, and Dean who were still standing at the doorway., He sighed. “Detectives, please tell me you know what’s going on here. My whole town is going insane.”

All Sam could do was share an empathetic smile. “We'll let you know as soon as we do.”

As Garrison left, they all moved inside but Riley turned to the boys. “Hey, I got this one, okay?”

The two nodded in agreeance before heading back into the hall.

“Mrs. Watson?” Riley’s tone was compassionate and soft. She couldn’t imagine the loss the woman had experienced and it made her dread the impending months to come even more. “Hi. Would it be okay if we asked you a few questions?” Taking out her badge, Riley then sat in a chair she pulled close.

“Do we have to go over this again? Now?”

“I promise, I won’t take much of your time. Mrs. Watson, how did you get away?”

The woman just softly nodded before she spoke meekly. “I didn't eat as much as Ken did, so I wasn't as out of it. And, when the old woman was...carving up Ken, I shoved her and she fell--cracked her head on the stove.” She paused as more tears fell. “She's dead, right? I--I killed her?”

“Do you have any idea at all why this woman would want to hurt you?”

“No! One minute she was a sweet old lady and the next she was, like a monster.”

“Is there anything else you remember? Anything at all.”

“Um, yeah,” the widow sniffled. “Did you find a little girl there, by any chance?”

Riley’s brow scrunched as she asked, “at the house? You saw a little girl there?”

“I thought I saw her outside the window. She--she just disappeared. Just vanished, into thin air. It m--must've been the drugs.”

“Mrs. Watson, what did the little girl look like? No detail is too small.”

With a heavy sigh, the victim tried to answer. “She had this dark--dark hair and really pale skin. She was around eight. She was a beautiful child. It was...odd to see her in the middle of something so horrible.”

The two talked for several minutes before Riley was able to get all the information she could.

Taking the woman’s hand, Riley waited until the widow’s eyes met hers. “I am so sorry for your loss.” The hunter’s heart swelled with love and understanding as she tried to force it through her. “Thank you for your help. I promise we’re gonna do everything we can to get you answers.” It seemed as though Riley had been able to conjure her abilities to do what she wanted as the woman sighed with slight relief. “Here’s my card. You call me if you need anything.”

As Riley left the card on the side table, she began to leave. She was at the door when she heard a small voice coming from behind her.

“Thank you, Detective.”

Riley turned to give the broken woman a soft smile before going back into the corridor. Sam and Dean were outside waiting. “So, what’d she say?” Sam’s hands went into his pockets as he and his brother stepped closer.

“She and her husband got lost in the woods on a hike. They stumbled on some old lady’s house and she offered to have them inside, gave them food, and I guess poisoned it. The husband was too weak to run and she stabbed him to death. The victim pushed the old woman away and she hit her head and died.”

“Huh,” Dean stated. “Drugging and stabbing granny. What has the world come to?” he asked sarcastically as he spun around to go.

------

The Impala sat parked outside of the small cottage that belonged to the old woman. It was the only thing in the clearing with nothing else for miles. The outside was a soft blue with white shutters and flowers around the porch. Birds ate from the feeder and the breeze rustled through the trees.

Inside, Sam, Dean, and Riley studied the home looking for anything out of the ordinary. The youngest Winchester was looking for EMF readings while his brother and Riley searched for clues.

The detector whirred as Sam brought it in front of the main window. “EMF’s going nuts,” he told them. “When I went over here by the window...there's definitely a spirit here.”

“Who stood outside the crime scene and watched?” Dean asked with an incredulous look.

“Looks like.”

Riley shook her head. “There may have been a spirit here at one point or another, but it’s not here now.”

“How do you know?”

“Empath,” she stated. “Remember? I can feel when there’s another energy in the room most of the time. It’s just us right now.”

Dean looked almost impressed with her. “You never really talk about that part of things.”

“Yeah. Well, now you know why I get all fidgety in hospitals. There’s too much pain and loss...and suffering. It’s terrible.” Riley seemed to get lost in her thoughts before she forced herself back to reality. “Anyway, I’m still onboard with the whole ‘spirit thing’. I mean, there’s no sulfur anywhere.”

“Actually,” Sam started. “I do have a theory. Uh--sort of. I’m, uh--I’m thinking about fairytales.”

The older Winchester’s eyebrow hooked as he saw an open window to mess with his brother. “Oh, that's--that's nice. You think about fairytales often?” Dean teased as he packed up their gear.

“No, Dean, I'm talking about the murders. A guy and a girl? Hiking through the woods, an old lady tries to eat 'em? That's Hansel and Gretel. And then we got three brothers, arguing over how to build houses, attacked by the Big Bad Wolf.”

“Three Little Pigs. Actually, those guys were a little chubby. Well, wait, I thought those things ended with, uh--everybody living happily ever after?”

Riley gasped softly and her eyes practically twinkled and she walked around as she spoke. “Ooh! Ooh! Ooh! What if we’re talking OG fairytales? Like--Grimm Brothers’ stuff. I mean, it was full of sex, violence--even cannibalism. Disney flicks and whatnot just baby-proofed them. Ugh. I love the originals--so much more interesting.” She stopped at looked at them with a realization. “Except for ‘Beauty and the Beast’. That’s a classic.”

Chuckling a little, Sam nodded. “Yeah. I mean, I don’t know how but they’re almost...reenactments.”

“The question is, how is that creepy little ghost girl involved in this? I mean, she has to be showing up for a reason.”

“I’ll bet you top dollar she was at that construction site too.”

Dean’s face fell. “We gotta do research now, don't we?” As the others grabbed their things, they shrugged and Dean groaned.

------

Sam and Riley waited outside the library after finishing their own research through internet searches. The older Winchester came out the front door, not looking happy.

“Checked every record they had. Found the usual amount of violent childhood deaths for a town this size.” The three walked across the road and toward a park. “Wanna know how many how many were little girls with black hair and pale skin? Zero. You wanna know how many how many little girls with black hair and pale skin that have gone missing? Right again. Zip. Zilch, nada. Fuckin’ goose egg. Tell me you've got something good 'cause I've totally wasted the last six hours.”

Sam chuffed as they walked up the dirt path of the park. Trees surrounded them along with the sound of playing children nearby. “Well, you ever hear of Lillian Bailey? She was a British medium from the 1930s.”

“She got a thing for fairytales?”

After running a hand through her hair, Riley stuffed her hands in her pockets as they walked on. “Nope--trances. Apparently, she’d be able to have her thoughts and actions completely controlled by spirits while she was in some weird unconscious state.”

“So, like a ghost puppet master. Think that's what this kid is doing? Sending Wolf Boy and grandma into trances, making them go kill-crazy?”

“I mean, maybe,” she shrugged. “Hypnosis for spirits or something?”

Dean scoffed under his breath with a slight smile of amusement. “Trances I get, but fairytale trances? That's bizarre even for us.”

Stopping dead in their tracks, they all looked down to see a bullfrog sitting in their path, croaking at them.

“Yeah, you're right. That's completely normal,” Sam snarked.

The bullfrog croaked again and again.

“Alright, maybe it is fairy tales. Totally fucked up fairy tales.”

Riley shook her head as she looked at the frog. “Mm-mm. Nope. I don’t care if it breaks the spell or even makes me the next Stevie Nicks...I’m not kissing a damn frog.” She shuddered at the thought and stepped over it as the brothers followed.

At the edge of the park, Sam noticed a house with a large front porch. A pumpkin sat at the entrance of the house as a little mouse scurried around it.

“Hey. Check that out. You guys remember Cinderella? With the pumpkin that turns into a coach and the mice that become horses?”

Dean looked at Sam and said, “dude, could you be more gay?”

His little brother looked at him nonplussed and his jaw fell speechlessly without a comeback.

“Never mind. Don't answer that.” Scurrying up the steps, Dean led the others to the front door. He picked the lock and quietly opened the door before they all entered and he closed it softly behind them. “Well, who knows? Maybe you'll find your fairy godmother, Sam.”

Sam looked irritated and completely done with Dean’s games as his big brother just smirked back.

There was a noise nearby and they all drew their guns. Hesitantly, the hunters went on their search through the house. Another noise of clattering and banging was in the other room and Dean motioned for Sam and Riley to head toward it as he followed.

“Help I'm in here!” a voice cried.

In the kitchen, a scared teenage girl with blonde hair was covered with bruises and handcuffed to the stove. She was shaking and dirty with tears running down her face.

“It's okay. We're here, we're here. We got you.” Sam tried to comfort the girl as he opened his lock pick to undo the cuffs. “What happened?”

“My stepmom, she just freaked out, screamed at me, beat me--chained me up.”

“Where is she now?”

“I don't know.”

Dean went to check the other rooms as Riley’s eyes caught movement down the hallway.

A little girl with long dark hair peeked out at her. Her skin was fair, almost pale, and she wore a white dress with a red ribbon in her hair. The girl turned away and Riley followed her. When she reached the entryway, she saw the girl standing in the living room before she walked out of sight.

Riley entered the room and looked around, only to find no one else was there. But she could feel something with her; the hunter knew she wasn’t alone.

Turning around, she saw the mysterious girl was staring back at her. “Who are you, honey?”

The spirit was silent before she flickered and vanished.

Riley looked down at a red apple on the rug and picked it up before looking it over.

Dean yelled from across the house as Sam helped the girl to the front door. “Riley! Rye!” He came in the room to see her standing there frozen with the apple in her hand. “What happened?”

“I saw her.”

------

On the hood of the Impala, Riley and Dean sat together quietly. She still held the apple as she thought to herself and Dean scooted closer, trying to be inconspicuous.

“Hey,” Dean cleared his throat. “You, uh--you okay? I mean, we haven’t really talked since our fight. Are--are we okay?”

Riley sighed. “Dean,” she turned to face him. “We’ll always be okay. But I’m--” Sighing, Riley tried to find the words. “That doesn’t mean that you can’t break my heart sometimes.”

He didn’t know what to say. Dean hated how deeply she was hurting and yet there wasn’t a single moment that he doubted if he made the right decision in giving his soul for hers.

Riley needed to live; if not for herself, then for him.

The awkward silence was broken when Sam joined them. “Paramedics picked up Cinderella.”

“That's good,” Dean replied.

Tossing the apple to Sam, Riley looked up at him as he caught it. “You thinking what I’m thinking?”

“Yep,” he agreed. “Snow White.”

“Snow White?” Dean thought to himself before it clicked for him and he snapped his fingers. “Ah, I saw that movie--or the porn version anyway. There was this wicked Stepmother? Woo, she was wicked.” He grinned and the others just stared back.

Riley gave him an almost judgmental look. “Really, Dean? Fairytale porn?”

“Hey, don’t knock it ‘til you try it.”

“Pass. Anyway, in Snow White, there’s an evil stepmother who tries to kill Snow White with a poison apple.”

Sam nodded as he looked at the apple. “Right. Only it doesn’t kill her, just puts her into a deep sleep--so deep, it’s almost like she’s dead.”

“See?” Dean started as he went to the driver’s side of the Chevy. “This is why I don’t eat fruit.”

------

Riley and the boys had returned to the hospital again, looking for answers. One of the nurses was answering their questions as they all talked in the hallway.

“No, sorry. We don't have any comatose little girls. It's mostly old guys. And, well...Callie. She's been around since before I started here.”

“Callie?” Dean asked.

“Yeah, it's so sad. And poor Dr. Garrison, he just...won't give up on her.”

Riley put her hands in her back pockets. “So, she’s one of his patients?”

“No. His daughter.”

After the nurse had pointed them in the right direction, the three hunters found Callie’s room. Doctor Garrison sat at her bedside with glasses perched on his nose. He was reading to her from the book ‘Tales of the Brothers Grimm’.

Callie was a young, adult woman with long, straight black hair. She laid completely motionless on the bed with monitoring equipment around her. The girl was truly beautiful and a modern-day Snow White.

“...and the Huntsman stepped inside and in the bed lay the Wolf. So, the Huntsman took a pair of scissors and cut open the Wolf's belly.”

Sam, Dean, and Riley glanced at each other before Garrison noticed them. He put down the book and got up to walk over to the undercover detectives. Clearing his throat, he tried to compose himself.

Riley could feel that being around Callie in that state was always a constant reminder to him of what he’d lost. That was his little girl in that bed and there wasn’t a day his heart didn’t break for her. The hunter tried to keep herself together as the emotions flooded her.

“Detectives. Can I help you?” the doctor asked.

“We just…” Dean started, “heard that Callie is your daughter. We’re so very sorry.”

Nodding, Garrison began to make his way out of the room. “Well, uh--thank you. If you'll excuse me.”

Quickly, the three spun around to stay at his side. “Oh, heading this way? We'll walk with you,” Dean told him as nonchalantly as he could. “How long's Callie been like that?”

Riley nudged Dean letting him know she disapproved of his questioning. “Sir, I’m sorry. We’re not trying to intrude. I mean--there’s no way we could possibly even begin to understand what this has been like for you.”

“It's not easy. She's uh-- been here since she was eight years old.”

“That's when she was poisoned?” Sam asked.

“Yeah. Swallowed, uh--bleach. Never figured out how she got her hands on the bottle. My wife found her--brought her to the ER here and I was on call.”

Trying to have a little more tact, Dean questioned gently, “your wife was, uh--was that Callie's stepmother?”

Doctor Garrison stopped walking and looked at Dean with curious and almost shocked eyes. “Actually, yes. How'd you know that?”

With a shrug, the Winchester tried to brush it off. “Lucky guess.”

“Well, Julie was the only mother that Callie ever knew. My wife passed away last year and...it's just my daughter and me now. She's all I've got left,” Garrison uttered as a knot grew in his throat. “Uh--if you’ll excuse me. I've gotta get back to work.”

“Yeah, of course,” Riley told him. As the doctor walked away, the three turned in the opposite direction. “One hundred percent...we’re talking Snow White.”

“Yep,” Sam agreed. “Step-mom poisons the girl, puts her into a deep sleep. What's the motive you think?”

“Could be like Mischa Barton,” Dean offered and Sam looked taken back. "‘Sixth Sense’ not the ‘O.C’.”

Riley turned to him, almost excited by the reference. “Oh, yeah. She played that sad ghost girl who was always getting sick. The mom had Munchausen Syndrome by Proxy and poisoned her--kid gets sick and mom gets all the attention.”

“So, say all these years, Callie's been suffering silently because nobody knows the truth about what mommy dearest did? And after all this time her spirit just gets angrier and angrier, until it finally just starts lashing out.”

They entered the reception area of the hospital and Riley kept the lookout for cops. “But that doesn’t tell us how we stop her. Callie’s stuck in her body because her dad’s keeping her alive. We can’t exactly burn the bones.”

“You think?” Sam replied with sarcasm.

EMT’s came rushing in with an old woman on a gurney. “Coming in! Seventy-two-year-old female, sustained multiple lacerations and puncture wounds. BP is eighty over forty and falling. Sinus tachycardia.”

The doctor looked her over noticing something on her neck. “Is that a bite?”

“We’re thinking she got mauled by a dog or something. Maybe a wolf?”

After overhearing the commotion, Dean turned to the others. “What was the last story Dr. Garrison was reading Callie?”

“It was Little Red Riding Hood,” Riley told him as she watched the injured woman disappear into the ER.

Only a short time later, the hunters saw them cover the old woman with a sheet. The doctors had already called her time of death.

“That means Little Red is probably next.”

A paramedic that had brought the old woman into the hospital passed by and Sam called for his attention. “Excuse me,” he and his siblings all showed their badges. “Was she the only victim?”

“She was found by the side of the road, barely alive. Alone.”

“We need to find her next of kin.” Dean’s face wreaked of urgency. Whenever there was a kid involved, he always grew more serious. “Does she have a granddaughter?”

“Uh--yeah…” the EMT answered almost in a question. “She’s her only family.”

“Do you have an address?” As Dean was handed the paper from the patient’s folder, he thanked the man and they all began to walk off. “Hey, you two find a way to stop Callie, alright? Rye, I have a feeling Sam’s gonna need your ‘Six Sense’ here.”

“Alright. But, sidebar? You’ve met your allotted quota of Haley Joel Osment references for the day,” she replied. “But what about you?”

“I'm gonna go stop the Big Bad Wolf,” he paused and tilted his head. “Which is the weirdest fucking thing I've ever said.” The older Winchester turned in the other direction and disappeared down the hall.

“Let’s go,” Sam said to Riley as they hurried to Doctor Garrison’s wing of the hospital.

Finally there, Riley stopped and looked around. “Ugh. This place gives me a headache. It’s too much.” She tried to shake it off and gather her thoughts before taking a deep breath. “I’m fine. I’ll be fine. I’m gonna go look for Callie.”

They both saw the physician ahead of them and Riley gently nudged Sam to go after him before she went for Callie’s room.

“Doctor Garrison! I need to speak with you.”

“Detective. What can I do for you?”

“Well, um...it's about Callie.”

Taken back, the doctor looked at him more sternly. “My daughter? What about her?”

“You know maybe, maybe could we sit down for a minute?”

“No,” he said firmly with annoyance. “What about her?”

“Okay. Well um--” Sam paused trying to work up the nerve to tell Garrison the truth. “Alright, Doctor, this isn't gonna be easy. But what happened to Callie wasn’t an accident.”

“You have no idea what happened to my daughter.” Garrison turned to walk away, offended at Sam’s suggestion.

Still, the hunter just followed him. “There are things you don't know, Doctor, about your wife. Your wife poisoned Callie.”

The physician stopped and glared at Sam. “Why would you say something so horrible to me? You stay away from me and from my daughter, you understand?”

“Doctor, this isn't...please, uh--”

Doctor Garrison went into Callie’s room only to see Riley there at her bedside. She seemed to be muttering to herself as she reached out for Callie’s soul.

“What are you doing here? I’m calling security.” As the doctor reached for the phone on the wall, Sam sighed and shut the door behind them. His large arm crossed over Garrison and the Winchester clamped his hand over it to stop him.

“No, listen. We don't have time to do this gently. If you don't listen to me more people are going to get hurt, because Callie is going to hurt them.”

With eyes tightly shut, Riley tried to focus over the two bickering. “Sam, I need more time. She’s too scared to come out. I can feel her.”

“What the hell are you two talking about?!” The doctor was anxious as he looked back and forth between them both.

“You're gonna think we’re crazy, but just understand me. Your daughter Callie is still here. She's a spirit.”

Doctor Garrison looked over at Callie with a heavy heart. He sat at the end of her bed and turned back to Sam. “So, you've seen her too.”

Sam looked surprised as the doctor went on. Riley’s eyes went open as she waited for Callie.

“I sensed her...Callie. Her presence--her scent. I even saw her standing at the foot of my bed but I never…” Garrison paused as his voice broke. “...believed it, I thought I was dreaming, I--”

Riley took a few strides to be closer to the bed. “You weren’t dreaming, Doctor Garrison. Let me guess, she looked like she was still eight years old and had on a white dress with a red ribbon in her hair? She’s been trying to talk to you for so long now.”

“You're not cops, are you? So, who are you two?”

“Just some people who happen to know the truth about some things.”

“But what he said about my wife poisoning Callie,” Garrison said to Riley with pleading eyes. “That's--”

With a sigh, she looked at the girl in the bed. “I’m so sorry, but it’s true. In her own way...Callie told us.”

“No,” the doctor shook his head in denial. “My wife loved Callie. So, how is--how is that possible?” Taking a moment to think to himself, Garrison refused to accept what he was being told. “No. No, I--I don't believe you.”

“Sir, Callie is killing people. She is so desperate and angry because no one will listen. If I can help--please, just listen to your little girl.” Riley turned around to look into the empty corner of the room and could feel someone with them. She smiled as she said, “Callie, your dad’s here. He’s ready to listen.”

Callie’s spirit flickered in front of the hunter as the girl looked at her father, sad and forlorn.

Doctor Garrison gasped seeing her and his eyes welled. “I--I know I wasn't listening before, but I'm listening now. Please honey, is--is there any way that you can tell me?” Still afraid to know the answer, he asked her, “Is it true?” All the little girl could do was nod in response and the doctor sobbed. “Oh--I'm so sorry, baby. But, listen to me...you gotta stop what you're doing, okay? You're hurting people. I know everything now. I know the truth. It's time for you to let go. It's time for me to let you go.”

Slowly, Doctor Garrison stood and his hands shook as he turned to Callie’s body in the hospital bed. He caressed her face and kissed her forehead tenderly. Tears fell into her hair as he wept. “I love you.” The monitors began to buzz and flatline as Callie’s spirit was finally set free.

Riley looked back at where the girl had stood and her once sad face had a small smile as she was engulfed in light and disappeared. The hunter couldn’t help but cry with a little breathy chuckle of joy knowing she was finally at peace.

------

Back in front of the nurses’ station, Sam, Dean, and Riley joined Doctor Garrison. The grieving father looked at the hunters. “And the girl's okay?” When Dean nodded, Garrison sighed heavily. “So, it's really over.”

“Yeah,” Sam said. “All thanks to you.”

“Callie was the most important thing in my life. But I should've let her go a long time ago.”

“Well,” Dean started as he reached to shake Garrison’s hand, “see ya ‘round, Doc.”

The doctor chuckled shakily and took the Winchester’s hand. “I sure hope not.” He patted Dean on the shoulder and walked away.

As they watched him turn the corner, Dean leaned into his partners. “You know, what he said? Some good advice.”

“Is that what you want us to do Dean?” Sam asked with a broken heart at his brother’s words. “Just let you go?” He refused to look away as Dean’s glance met Riley’s.

Her eyes had flooded with tears and she bit her trembling lip.

Dean reached for the side of her face and she closed her eyes at his touch. His thumb rubbed softly against her cheek to wipe away the tear that fell.

No one said anything as Dean’s turned to leave. Sam’s arm went around Riley and she clung to his side as they watched him walk alone down the corridor.

------

That night in their motel room, Riley and Sam moved swiftly through the darkness.

Dean was sound asleep and snoring as the other two got ready. His time was ticking away with each passing day and neither was willing to lose him.

Riley stopped to watch Dean sleep and she studied his face as she thought of how there was no mountain she wouldn’t move for that man.

Softly touching her arm, Sam let her know it was time to go. They gathered a bag of necessary items and snuck out of the room.

Sam and Riley took the Impala and drove into the night. Their heads were spinning but their goal was clear and that was all that mattered.

They stopped not far from a train track and parked the car. The whistle of the locomotive blew in the distance along with the chirping of the evening insects. It was a clear sky with a glowing full moon that lit the way as they walked into the center of a crossroads.

The hunters dug into the dirt and Sam crouched down with a box in his hand. Exhaling sharply, he added a photo ID of himself and Riley to the contents and closed the box. His hands grabbed at the dirt and filled the hole until he had buried the summoning box.

Sam stood and dust flew off his hands as he wiped them onto his jeans.

The two turned in circles, surveying the four routes at the crossroads. As they turned their backs, a woman in a black dress appeared. She had long flowing black hair and glowing tanned skin, her eyes blood-red as she eyed the hunters.

“Well, little Sammy Winchester and Riley Munroe,” she said and Sam spun around to face her. “I'm touched. I mean...Dean’s been to see me, but you two? I never had the pleasure.”

As Sam and Riley glared at her, their hearts raced.

The demon’s eyes returned to normal as a glimmer of pleasure came through her sinister smile. “What can I do for you?”

Drawing the Colt from his waistband, Sam pointed it at the demon and smiled with tight lips. “You can beg for your fucking life.”

“We were having such a nice conversation. Then you had to go and ruin the mood.”

“If I were you, I'd drop the wisecracks and start acting scared.”

Still grinning, the demon replied, “it's not my style.” She looked at the tampered-with gun and then back at the Winchester. “That's not the original Colt. Where did you get that?” When Sam didn’t answer, she had a realization. “Ruby--had to be. She is such a pain in my ass. She'll get what's coming to her...you can count on it.”

“We’re done talking,” Riley bit. “We’re here to make an offer.”

“You're gonna make me an offer?” she asked incredulously. “That's fucking adorable.”

Holding tightly to the pistol in his hand, Sam kept his aim. “You let Dean out of his deal right now. He lives, Riley lives--you live. Everyone goes home happy. Or…” He cocked the gun and stared her down. “You stop breathing--permanently.”

She laughed to herself. “Oh, all this tough talk. I have to tell you, it's not very convincing. I mean, come on Sam. Do you even want to break the deal?”

“What do you think?”

“I don't know. Aren't you tired of cleaning up Dean's messes? Of dealing with that broken psyche of his? Aren't you tired of being bossed around like a snot-nosed little brother? You're stronger than Dean. You're better than him. You and Riley would be better off without him.”

Sam’s jaw clenched with anger. “Watch your goddamn mouth.”

“Admit it. You're here, going through the motions. But truth is...you'll be a tiny bit relieved when he's gone.”

“Shut up,” he seethed.

“Sam…” Riley warned. “Don’t let it under your skin. That’s what she wants.”

Slowly, the crossroad demon sauntered closer as she continued to provoke him, enjoying every second of it. “No more desperate, sloppy, needy Dean. You can finally...be free.”

“I said shut the fuck up!” yelled with rage in his eyes.

Riley’s hand reached up to touch his extended arm, hoping to calm him.

“Huh,” the demon teased. “Doth protest too much if you ask me.”

“Cut the bullshit, alright? You let Dean out of this deal right now and you leave my sister alone. You hear me?”

“Sorry, sweetheart, but your brother's an adult. You yourself were going to make that deal for Riley, weren’t you? How are you any better than he is? Or any better than your fathers for that matter? No, Dean made that deal of his own free will, fair and square. It's ironclad.”

“Every deal can be broken. You won’t do it? Fine. I’ll kill you right here, right now. The deal’s gone if you are too.”

“Oh, Sam, I'm just a saleswoman. I got a boss like everybody. He holds the contract, not me. He wants Dean's soul, bad. And believe me, he's not going to let it go.”

“You’re so full of shit,” Riley snarked.

“Am I? Shoot me, if it'll get your rocks off. But the deal still holds and when Dean's time is up, he's getting dragged into the pit.”

“Then who's your boss?” Sam demanded. “Who holds the contract?”

“He's not as cuddly as me, I can tell you that much. I'm sorry, Sam. But there's no way outta this one. Not this time.”

Taking a few strides forward, Riley took a deep breath and clenched her fists trying to stop her shaking. “Tell him he can have me then.”

“What?!” Sam yelled. “No! Riley, what the fuck are you doing?” He grabbed her wrist and tried to pull her back, only for her to yank her hand away.

The demon grinned. “Interesting.” She got close to the hunter and looked her in the eye as her soulless red eyes returned. “You know, all of Hell wants you dead, Munroe. You shouldn’t make promises you won’t keep.”

“I’ll keep it. Take me. You leave Sam out go free and you let Dean out of his deal.”

“Oh, honey…” the evil woman took in a deep inhale of Riley’s scent and licked her lip. “You are too tempting. Believe me, I would love to be the one that drags you into the pit myself--especially after what you did to my coworker.” The demon chuckled under her breath and leaned in to whisper in Riley’s ear. “We know about you, Riley,” she hissed and the hunter flinched. “We know what you’re capable of. And yet…” Taking a few steps back, she sized Riley up. “you can’t get it up now, can you?”

Riley’s jaw clenched. “Don’t test me.”

With a laugh, the demon clicked her tongue. “You try to act so tough, like you’re just as strong as the big boys, but you’re just still a scared little girl. So much rage, but I don’t think you have the juice right now, do you? You’re not strong enough. Not since you came back.”

“You’re right,” Riley replied callously. “I’m not.” Sam was filled with dread and worry as he watched Riley face off with the demon. With a deadpan tone and no emotion, Riley uttered, “kill her, Sam.”

Before the demon could react, Sam’s gaze looked back at the red-eyed woman and he instantly pulled the trigger.

The bullet flew right between her eyes and her body jolted as electrical shocks ran through her body. Strong light from the currents reflected on her face until the possessed vessel finally fell to the ground, smoke slowly seeping from the bullet hole.

The two stood in the silence of night once again. With no more answers than they had before, the hunters were left in the middle of the crossroads.

With frustration, Sam blurted out, “what the fuck was that? We had a plan!”

“Yeah, well...she’s dead,” Riley answered as she turned to face him. “That was the plan either way.”

“What?” Sam took long steps until he was right in front of her and stared down at his sister. “You were just gonna sell your soul? How could you do that to me?”

Finally exploding with emotion, Riley shouted, “because we’re running out of time!” Tears ran down her face and she ran a hand through her hair. “I can’t...I can’t let him die, Sam. He can’t die for me.” Riley began to sob and her words were barely audible. “I can’t lose him.”

Sam wrapped his arms around her and held her tight as she cried into him. His hands rubbed her back and he rested his head on hers after kissing into her hair. “Shh. I know. We’re gonna get through this, Rye. We won’t let them take him.”

Sam was just as desperate to save Dean. He needed his brother more than he wanted to admit and Sam wasn’t sure if he could go on without him. Whether he said it or not, he loved Dean. He was more than a big brother; he was his best friend. But it was more than that. If Sam was being honest, he would admit that an eternity in Hell would be better than a life without his brother and sister.

It didn’t matter the cost, Sam and Riley were determined to save Dean. They both knew there was nothing they wouldn’t do to keep the hounds at bay. There was nothing they weren’t ready to sacrifice for each other.

It would take the end of the world to keep their family apart; and even if that day came, they would only go down together.

------

S3 Chapter 5: Red Sky at Morning

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bernadineisreborn · 6 years

Text

Handling the Truth

Chapter One: New Beginnings

Summary: You, a college freshman, are moving to NYC to go to college at Empire State University, where you got a full ride and placement in a special program. Oh, and you can also tell when people are lying. Watch out world, because you are ready to finally get things going in your favor! Plus, there are cool things to do in the city, like Spider-Man (wink).

Warnings: Swearing but not like, mean swearing

Word Count: 5,063 little words of love

A/N: Hi! Here is the first chapter, coming to you after a long spell of writer’s block (or me just being lazy idk anymore). READ THE PROLOGUE IT EXPLAINS SHIT! If ya like it, hit me up in any way shape or form you see appropriate! [Friendly reminder that everyone in this story is above 18 years of age!]

Other Parts: Prologue

You woke up to the pilot’s voice over the speaker, informing you of the impending landing.

You blinked yourself awake, stretching, yawning, and looking out the window. You stared at the skyline in awe, surprised at how much bigger New York looked than Chicago.

Not long after, the plane was landing and you were getting ready to exit. The strange man next to you looked impatient and the flight attendant looked tired, but you were ready to start a brand new adventure in the greatest city in the world.

The airport contained an unfathomable number of people for such a small place, but you managed to find the luggage pick-up. You quickly spotted your own bags, branded with a unique luggage tag you had made, and reached for them. Suddenly, another arm reached towards the unclaimed bags around you, throwing you off balance. You turned around, giving the person a death glare, when you saw that it was the same man who sat next to you on the plane. Annoyed, you rolled your eyes and decided to let it go.

Now chasing after your slowly moving bags, you pushed through the small crowd of people until you finally caught up to them, grabbing them, and heading towards the exit.

You were almost out the door when you felt someone grab your arm. It was the lying man from the plane. Again.

“Is there something I can do for you?” you said as sarcastically as you could manage, taking a step away from him.

“Um, maybe. I am having a party this weekend, and I think you would have fun. What’s your-”

Astonished, you pushed past him and started walking down the street, ignoring his derogatory calls after you. You were not going to let one stupid, pathetic man ruin your first day in New York. You barely knew the guy, and the few interactions you had with him were poor ones. You wondered what could possibly have driven him to approach you at all.

Stupid, pervy old men. Ugh.

Still strutting angrily down the busy sidewalk, you felt something land on your forehead. You looked up, the skyscrapers lining both sides of the road barely made the thick gray clouds visible from the ground. Still, it was visible enough to guess that it was about to start raining.

A tad desperate, you cut to the side of the road and tried to hail a taxi. You knew how, having been to Chicago hundreds of times, but there didn’t seem to be any empty cabs on the busy road.

Finally, a car pulled up to the curb in front of you, yellow and sprinkled with rain droplets from the increasingly heavy rainfall. A passenger got out and you gratefully began walking towards the cab, before the door closed and it sped off, splashing a puddle onto your lower legs in the process.

Fan-fucking-tastic.

You began walking along the road again, sullenly this time, trying not to let yourself cry. As optimistic as you wanted to be, you couldn’t deny that everything felt like a train wreck right now.

You sniffed, holding in your emotions, and took a deep breath. It was starting to shift closer to a downpour than a summer sprinkle, and you needed to take cover.

Luckily, there was a Starbucks at the end of the block. You gripped your backpack and your luggage bags and made your way there.

The Starbucks was different than the one in your small hometown. It was decorated in the comfortable style that you had come to associate with Starbucks, but it felt bigger, somehow, it felt more grand. You plopped yourself on the closest lounge chair and took out your phone. You had a text from both your parents, wondering if you had landed. You sent them a quick affirmative reply and glanced around you. There were a lot of people here, taking shelter from the rain. Behind you, rain fell in sheets onto the pavement from the sky above. Though inconvenient, you couldn’t deny the appeal of rain hitting the cement. The city looked like a dream.

You forced yourself to think away the stresses of the day and opened the Uber app on your phone, deciding that hailing a cab would be unnecessarily difficult in the rain. You wanted to get a coffee before your ride arrived, so you got in line.

As you wait, you let your eyes wander, noticing the boy in front of you. He was cute, with curly brown hair and warm brown eyes. His skin was lightly tanned, and he was wearing jeans with a shirt that had some pun scrawled on it in graphic letters. There was a backpack slung loosely over his shoulder.

He was talking on the phone, trying to reassure someone of something.

“Yes… No, I’m fine… I promise, Aunt May… Yeah, I’ll be home soon. Then we can go… Love you, too. Bye,” he wrapped up the conversation and then it was his turn to order, “Hi! Can I please get a venti coffee with some cream?”

You got a weird sensation in the back of your neck when he talked. He wasn’t lying, but he definitely wasn’t telling the full truth. There was something he was keeping from everyone else.

Maybe he was a murderer.

Pssh, he’s probably not a murderer. Chill out, Y/N.

Wary anyway, you scooted away from him a little. You ordered, deciding to get your usual favorite instead of anything new.

As you waited for your order, you observed the stranger more. He was staring down at his phone. He must have felt you staring, because he looked up to meet your eyes.

You quickly looked down at your own phone, cheeks growing warm with embarrassment at being caught.

The barista called out, “Peter?” and placed a cup on the counter. The strange boy, Peter, made his way to the counter, grabbing the cup and saying thank you to the worker.

Your drink came out next, and you grabbed it, watching the boy walk through the door. Your phone started ringing, and you answered it. It was your Uber driver, calling to tell you they were here.

Bags in tow and drink in hand, you walked outside. The Uber was easy to find, you shoved your bags in the car and scooted yourself in.

“Hi, your request said you’re going to ESU?” they asked.

“Yeah, the dorms. My building is called Osborn Hall,” you replied.

The drive wasn’t too long, but the traffic was even worse than what you had come to know in Chicago.

By time you got to the dorm, the rain had slowed to a light mist, and you gathered your bags out of the car. Thanking your driver and giving them a five-star review, you looked up at the building. It was beautiful, and fancy, as if it had been built recently. You walked in through the large, glass front doors.

There were a lot of people waiting inside, most of them appearing to be around your age, a few of them the age of your parents. Probably parents helping their kids move in.

You navigated through the crowd until you found what must have been the front desk. There was a boy sitting behind it, his hair long and flowing past his shoulders, dyed blue.

“Name, please?” he asked with a bored expression.

“Um, Y/N L/N,” you replied, only half paying attention to him as you scouted the crowded room.

He typed into his computer, then said with the most monotone voice imaginable, “Can I see some ID? Just to make sure it’s really you and get it on file.”

You handed him your driver’s license and he examined it.

“Sweet. Here’s your campus ID,” he said, still void of any emotion as he handed you a bright green piece of plastic that had a picture of you on it, among other information, “It also functions as your room key and stuff. Your room number is 2314. Your roommate has already checked in, so she’ll probably be in the room.”

“Okay. Thank you!” you said, trying to convey how helpful he had been.

Finally, he smiled. “No problem, if you have any questions or whatever, I’ll be here.”

You smiled back and started for the elevator. There was a little crowd by the elevator doors, waiting to go up just like you. The elevator bell dinged and you clamored in with the rest of the crowd. You ended up pressed against the back window, giving you a great view of the city through the glass pane. Even by New York skyscraper standards, Osborn Hall was tall.

As the elevator climbed the 23 floors, making various stops to drop people off, you grew in excitement. It can’t get much worse, right? It’s already been rough, so it can only get better.

Finally, it was your turn to get off.

You walked down the hall, getting closer to your home for the next 9 months. 2310… 2312… 2314. There it was, right in front of you. The door was a pristine white colored wood, and the walls in the hallway were a smoky grey. The hallway was littered with signs and posters that welcomed freshmen and advertised various clubs.

You were fumbling with the card reader, trying to get your card to work with the ID scanner on the door’s handle, when it opened from the other side.

Standing in the doorway was a girl, your roommate, presumably. She had a darker complexion, but it didn’t look like she went in the sun very often. Her hair was a luscious, dark ashy brown and it fell in natural curls down the sides of her face. She had brown eyes that glinted gold in the light, framed by thick, arching eyebrows. Her lips were set in a small smile, but she looked cautious. She was absolutely stunning and you suddenly felt less confident.

“Hi,” she said as her face moved to display mild excitement, “I’m Michelle Jones, you must be Y/N L/N?”

“Yup, that’s me,” you said with a smile, reaching out your hand to shake hers.

You had gone in blind for a roommate, hoping for the best because you couldn’t force yourself to give the energy required to find someone online. Staring at Michelle, you had a feeling that you had gotten lucky.

As she shook your hand lightly, you noticed she was wearing mostly black, but still was dressed in style.

“Sorry if I startled you opening the door, it took me forever to figure out the card reader for the first time, so I thought I would help,” she said, “Do you want me to help get your bags?”

“No, I got them, thanks though. Are you already moved in?” You two walked into the living room and you took a few seconds to look around. It was small, but it had a large window with a nice view of the city. There was a small bathroom on the left wall, complete with a shower, and two bedrooms, one on each side. Michelle had placed a small, black couch in the living room, but there didn’t appear to be any other decorations.

“Yeah, mostly, I just have to finish decorating… Your room is this way,” she explained as she led you to the room on the right, “They are both the same size, so I just took the left one.”

Your room was not big, but it was spacious enough for all of your belongings, plus you got it all to yourself. There was a twin sized bed frame and mattress already in the room. You set down your bags and said, “Wow, can’t believe we get our own rooms.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s nice, and our own bathroom. It’s almost nicer than my parent’s house.”

You laughed, “Yeah, same. I would never have been able to afford to go here if it weren’t for scholarships.”

“Me neither! Which scholarship did you get?” Michelle asked with curiosity in her eyes and a smile on her lips.

“I got put in the Leaders of Tomorrow program, what about you?” you asked, careful not to say an amount in case she didn’t have something equal.

“Oh, cool. My friend is in that. It’s a full ride, right?” you nod and she smiles, “I was sponsored by a program that helps people succeed in the arts, so I have a full ride, too.”

“Oh, the arts? What are you going into then?”

“I’m not sure, honestly, but I know it will be something creative. I like drawing and acting and fashion and stuff,” she said with a little laugh, “What about you?”

“I don’t even have a field of interest yet,” you explained, “I am hoping that I can figure something out this semester.”

You and Michelle continued to talk as you unpacked a little, and you really started to like her. She told you that she had grown up in Queens, and that her family still lived there. She went to a school called Midtown, and said that she had some friends from high school that went to Empire State, too. You told her about your high school experiences, and you found yourselves relating to each other a lot.

Best of all, your neck remained tingle free. She did not tell a single lie the entire conversation. Michelle was like an angel sent to rescue your horrific first day in the city.

After an hour or so of sitting in your almost bare living room on the surprisingly comfortable black couch Michelle had brought, she offered to help you set up the rest of your stuff. You declined, saying that you didn’t have very much to do anyway, which was true, your family was mailing you the rest of your things and they wouldn’t be here for a couple of days.

So, you set up the things you had. You had bought a new, F/C comforter and matching sheets. You had a beautiful tapestry on your wall, a soft rug, and fairy light strung across the ceiling. The look was completed with a dozen or so photos of things that inspired you, plastered on the wall next to your bed.

Happy with your new set up, you sent a picture to your parents. Then, you exited your bedroom, finding the living room considerably more decorated than before. Michelle had hung a tapestry of Van Gogh’s Starry Night and set up a small TV. It was cute and cozy.

You walked across the small room, knocking lightly on Michelle’s door.

“Hey, do you want to go get dinner?” you asked, hopeful that she would agree because you wanted to get to know her better.

“Yeah, sure,” she said from her lying position on her bed, which was covered in a purplish-grey comforter. She had sketches taped to all four of her walls, a black patterned rug, and potted plants on her windowsill. The room smelled like lavender.

You and Michelle went to Panda Express, where you discovered she was a vegetarian. Then, you decided to go to Target to pick up a few more decorations for your living room. You and Michelle had agreeable styles; it felt like you were destined to be friends.

Laughing at something one of you had said, Michelle asked you, “Is there a name you prefer to be called? Any nicknames or anything? Or is Y/N good?”

“Y/N is good, but I’ll accept suggestions,” you said, still smiling, “Why? Is there something you want to be called instead of Michelle?”

She looked down, a little embarrassed, “Um, yeah. My friends call me MJ. So, since we’re friends, now, um… you should call me that,” she said quietly, looking up at you to smile.

You smiled widely back at her, “MJ it is, my friend.”

You walked back into Osborn Hall, still amazed at how grand it is. “God, who designed this place? It’s so fucking nice.”

MJ scoffed, “Norman Osborn sponsored it. He is a super millionaire who does a bunch of science shit.”

“Oh, yeah. I have heard about him before. He’s kind of like Tony Stark, right?”

“Yeah, kinda. Just without the Iron Man suit and the heart of gold.”

“The heart of gold? You make it sound like you know him,” you questioned.

She was silent for a moment. Then, “He spoke at my graduation.”

Cue a tiny tingle in the back of your neck. She wasn’t telling the full truth.

“That’s it? Just graduation?” you quizzed.

“Yeah, that’s the only time I have seen him in person,” she explained.

And the tingle went away. If there was a lie there, it wasn’t a big one. You were willing to accept her answers for now.

As you got on the elevator again, MJ’s phone dinged. She smiled a little, “It’s my lame friend from high school! He wants us to come up to his room so he can meet you and we can meet his roommate. Is that okay?”

“Yeah, sounds fun!” you said, but you suddenly felt uneasy.

MJ noticed somehow, and said, “He’s super chill. No need to be nervous.”

MJ pressed the button for floor 40, the top floor. You shot her a quizzical look, to which she shrugged.

If you had thought the ride up to the 23rdfloor seemed long, the ride to the 40thfloor seemed twice as long. The people on the ground faded to tiny specs as the little number near the ceiling climbed higher and higher.

The ding of the elevator accompanied the opening doors; the 40thfloor was different than the 23rd. There was a single hallway, a few doors labeled ‘Janitorial’ and one door labeled ‘4000.’

You glanced at MJ, who said, “I think his roommate has some crazy money or something.”

You and MJ walked down the short hallway and knocked at the door. There was music playing faintly inside, 90’s hip hop, and you could hear light footsteps approaching the door.

You had not been expecting to see the cute, suspicious boy from Starbucks again, but here he was, standing behind the door with vague recognition in his eyes as he looked at you, then happiness as he looked at MJ. He gave her a hug, the two of them exchanging words about missing each other.

Then, MJ was introducing you to him.

“Y/N, this is Peter. We have known each other for like five years now, so, I mean it when I say he’s a loser,” said MJ through a laugh.

Peter’s chocolate brown eyes met yours. You felt a slight tingle at the base of your neck. He reached out a veiny hand.

“Hi, I’m Peter. Uh, Parker. Peter Parker,” he said, and you watched as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down his creamy neck.

You met his hand with yours and shook it firmly. You realized that you probably looked like you were glaring, and made an effort to soften your expression with a smile.

“Hey, I’m Y/N L/N. It’s nice to meet you,” you offered. He smiled timidly back at you, unruly eyebrows crinkled.

“Um… Do you guys wanna come in? The place is pretty nice, and uh, you can meet Harry,” said Peter as he began walking back into the dorm room.

The ‘dorm room’ was much closer to a penthouse apartment. As nice as you had thought your own room to be, this made it look ridiculous. The furthest wall was a less of a wall and more of a window; it was made of crystal clear glass and displayed and the best view of the city you had ever seen. The rest of the room was decorated sleekly, with dark wood and black accents. There was a huge TV, a leather couch that lined the room’s corners, and a complete kitchen with marble countertops.

You couldn’t even begin to comprehend how rich Peter’s roommate must have been.

As your and MJ’s eyes swept the room in awe, another boy approached. He had neat, dark blonde hair and piercing blue eyes. Taller than Peter, he was dressed nicely; a button up shirt, dress pants, loafers, and a sports coat. He looked at you and MJ with a small, patient smile on his face, as if he was used to people reacting this way to his wealth.

“Harry Osborn,” he said, “Good to know that Peter has pretty friends.” He took your hand first, kissing your knuckles lightly. You couldn’t help the feeling of heat rising to your cheeks. He did the same to MJ, and she rolled her eyes but accepted the gesture.

“Good to know that Peter has rich friends,” she responded sarcastically, crossing her arms at her chest.

You looked at Harry skeptically, “Osborn, as in…?”

He laughed a little, awkward with his next words, “Yes… Osborn as in Norman Osborn, as in Oscorp, and as in Osborn Hall.”

You nodded, looking around again, “Makes sense.”

MJ glanced between the two boys in curiosity, “How do you two know each other?”

Peter finally spoke up, “Uh, our parents used to research together, so we were childhood friends. We have recently gotten back in touch, and…” Peter trailed off, gesturing around him.

You didn’t get any tingles that time. He was telling the truth.

The two boys gave you and MJ a tour of the rest of their dorm/penthouse, which consisted of two bathrooms and three separate (and very large) bedrooms. The first bedroom, which belonged to Harry, was decorated with a few framed Forbes magazines and pictures of Harry with an older man you assumed to be his father. The second bedroom, Peter’s, was decorated with a shabby but soft looking comforter and Star Wars posters. The third bedroom was occupied by a boy called Ned Leeds, who was out to dinner with his family, but was known by both Peter and MJ in high school. They promised that you would be introduced to him soon.

When the tour was complete, you and MJ made your way back to the door, saying your goodbyes and goodnights, promising to catch dinner with the pair sometime soon.

Peter’s brown eyes followed you as you left. Even after Harry had walked away, Peter watched. You waved a final goodbye to him and tried to ignore the strange feeling of his eyes on the back of your head as you approached the elevator.

You couldn’t help but think: Murderer.

But by time you and MJ turned around to face forward in the elevator, the door had shut.

As the elevator doors closed, you turned to MJ, “That was insane,” you giggled.

“I know!” she said, astonishment appearing on her face, “How does one person have that much money?”

“No idea. And how is one person so good-looking?”

“Who? Peter or Harry?”

“Well, Harry, but Peter, too! You could have told me that your friend was gorgeous beforehand,” you say, nudging her shoulder a little.

MJ laughed, “Yeah, whatever. You’ll make his head big if he hears you talking like that.”

---

The next day, you were supposed to meet with your mentor for the Leaders of Tomorrow program. There was some kind of ceremony, where the program board provides dinner to both the mentors and the students, allowing them to get to know each other or something. Since you had no idea what field you were interested in, you had taken a quiz, and they were going to match you up based on your responses.

You were nervous, to say the least, but you wanted to make the most of this opportunity, so you decided to rise to the occasion.

The dinner was semi-formal, and you had packed your favorite dress from home. It was from one of your school dances and could easily be considered semi-formal.

Plus, you looked pretty damn good in it.

Anyway, your mentor was a constant for all four years of university. Getting paired up with someone that you didn’t mesh well with would affect your entire experience in the program.

God, I hope this goes well.

You spent the first half of the day hanging out with MJ, still getting to know her, and unpacking the box of things you had gotten in the mail from home.

You started getting ready a few hours before the event. The shower in your dorm was decidedly better than expected, and the hot water helped to wash away some of your nerves.

You finished getting ready in your bedroom, using the mirror you had set up on your desk. You opted for a simpler makeup look that highlighted your cheekbones and eye color. Then, you added a statement lip color that went well with your dress.

You were just about ready, clipping in your earrings, when MJ knocked on your door.

“Hey, girl! How you doing?” she asked. You stood up and began searching for your shoes.

“I’m okay. I mean… I’m nervous. Yikes, how do I look?” you asked her, pretty sure she would give you a straight up answer and trusting her sense of style.

She looked you up and down, eyes narrowing as she studied your appearance.

Finally, she let out a whistle, “You look damn good, Y/N,” she replied, an approving smile gracing her lips.

No tingle; she really meant that.

Your cheeks burned, always so susceptible to compliments. “Thanks, MJ. Wish me luck!”

“Yeah, yeah, you don’t need it. They’re gonna love you,” she said, ushering you out the door and waving at you.

“Bye, MJ,” you said, waving back as you started wobbling down the hallway, not used to the heels yet.

Shit.

The ceremony was being held in Osborn Hall, so the trek there was only a matter of taking the elevator to the right floor. But, once you reached the ballroom, which had been decorated beautifully in preparation for the ceremony, you were lost.

There were people everywhere. Literally everywhere. You couldn’t even see the stage.

By the grace of some being above, you managed to find your assigned seat at one of the round tables, marked by a name card that had fancy letters on it.

You sat down, arranging your dress around you. It was 6:02 pm. The ceremony was to start at 6:30, but you were supposed to get there early to meet your mentor.

You looked around you, guessing that about half of the people in the room were contributors to the massive fund that put you and 49 other students through college for free, and that the other half was made up of staff, students, and mentors.

A couple of minutes later, someone else sat at your table, another student. You tried to make pleasant conversation with them until your mentor arrived. However, theirs arrived first, and you watched the happy introduction wistfully.

A couple more minutes passed, and you heard a familiar voice behind you.

You turned around, and MJ’s friend Peter is there, talking to an attractive older man, around 50, with dark, styled hair and calculating, brown eyes. You didn’t have the best view, but you could tell he had a fashionably-styled goatee, and a perfectly-tailored, navy blue suit that screams “rich.” He wasn’t wearing a tie, instead allowing his white button up to hang open a button or two more than appropriate. His lips were moving, and his face was sarcastic, but you can’t hear what he was saying.

Peter didn’t notice you looking at him. He was wearing a pretty fancy suit himself, dark grey with a black tie. He looks nice, and you can’t help but stare a little as his eyebrows crinkle in concentration at something the older man is saying, the right eyebrow a little more out of place than the left. His pursed lips crack into a smile as he listens earnestly.

You caught yourself smiling at the sight.

The pair shifted a little, and you were able to look at the older man’s face more carefully.

It’s Tony Stark.

How the hell does Peter know Tony Stark?

You were still studying them, guessing that Tony was Peter’s mentor, when someone pulled out the chair next to you. It was a Latina woman, mid to late 30s, beautiful but intense as she made eye contact with you and attempted a smile.

“Hi, I’m Gina Lupo. Are you Y/N L/N?” she asked, dark eyes focused on you as you stutter a response.

“Hi. Yes, that’s me,” you said, offering her a hand to shake. Her long, dark brown hair was pulled into a sleek ponytail, and she was wearing a nice, black pant suit.

Her firm handshake confirmed what you suspected, “Good. I’m your mentor, then,” she laughed, but her intimidating expression remained in place as she sat down next to you, “Where are you from?”

“A couple hours outside of Chicago, how about you?”

“Brooklyn,” she said with a small smile, “How did you end up at ESU?”

“This scholarship, mainly. But I have always wanted to go to school in a big city,” you explained.

She nodded, “Do you know what you want to study?”

“No, not really,” you said with a nervous laugh, “I am hoping to figure it out at some point this year.” I am hoping you can help me figure it out.

She nodded again, “I didn’t know what I wanted to study until my second year of school.”

“What did you decide on?”

“Double major in Criminal Justice and Psychology,” she said, eyes scanning the room as she spoke, “I went to the police academy right after I graduated. Eventually I worked my way up to detective status, and now I run the department.”

Impressive.

“Wow, that’s…really impressive. How did you know that you wanted to go into criminal justice?”

“I-” she was cut off by Peter sitting down at your table with Tony Stark. Peter didn’t seem to have noticed you, yet, his chocolate brown eyes still intently focusing on Tony.

What are the chances that he would be seated at my table?

Then, he looked up.

His eyes widened, “Y/N!” he exclaimed, looking you up and down a little, clearly surprised at your presence. Tony’s eyes followed Peter’s, reading the situation. Gina’s eyes followed Tony’s, clearly holding back in amazement.

This was going to be interesting.

---

A/N 2: If you made it this far without quitting or vomiting…… thanks for reading and let me know what you think HERE! Watch for chapter 2 and pls give me love😙😙😙😙

Tag List: @condy-wants-a-cookie @misskarynie (let me know if you wanna be added!)

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pillowfluffs · 6 years

Text

Soulmate!Wonho // Chapter 8

Pairing: Wonho X Reader (female)

Genre: Soulmate!AU, College!AU, fluff, slight angst, mystery?

Author’s Note: I am so sorry for the long wait, but it’s back! I developed writer’s block whilst writing this chapter so I feel that this isn’t my best chapter and I’m very sorry.. You may think otherwise but this is just from my point of view. I am of course past this block and am working diligently on the future chapters and other works coming soon! I really can’t imagine what my other series’ will be like after? Like this story means so much to me and I love it so much and I’m so happy so many of you enjoy it too! This series only gets juicer from here ;)) So I hope you enjoy chapter 8! And as always, I will be posting a new chapter on Saturday’s 5:30pm Eastern Standard Time (U.S. Time) ((4:00pm Central Time // 2:00pm Pacific Standard Time)) Feedback is greatly appreciated and please look forward to more future works ;)

Chapter 9 is coming out September 15! I’m SO sorry for the long wait ;(( I’m just very busy, but I will NEVER drop this series!

The bright morning sun peeked through the leaves, but the dense amount of trees still made it dark. You were calm as you walked through, the sounds of small twigs snapping below your feet as well as the rustling of the leaves as the wind brushed through singing its song. the cool breeze blew through your hair as you walked through the familiar yet somewhat changed place; new trees had begun growing, some were fallen over which created a new path. You didn’t have a set place in mind, just wandering and wondering what would happen when night fell. “Am I going to die again tonight?” The corners of your lips pointed downwards as your pace slowed down just from this thought. So far, you were trying your best to not think about what just happened with your parents; you knew you would cry from it but you would have to confront it either sooner or later.

Changkyun and Wonho left the Arcrani, each with a bubble milk tea in hand after enjoying their dinner beginning to head back to the academy. He knew Changkyun was right but he couldn’t help the uneasy feeling within beginning to eat at him for not finding you. A silent atmosphere surrounded them as they walked down the sidewalk, more people in the streets and less cars. People were out, going to nearby bars, restaurants, other places due to the fairly warm weather for the first time in forever.

“So do you want to stay at my dorm until the harvest moon? I have a couch in my room so you don’t have to go back and forth.” Wonho offered. The two hadn’t shared a room since they were in elementary school together. Their parents moved houses before middle school and high school but the house they currently lived in now was a final home since their children were now going to go to the same college.

“Are you sure? Don’t you have a roommate?” Changkyun didn’t want to intrude on his brother’s nor his possible roommate, but Wonho did make a good point. “And either way, I’m not a student, would that be okay? Won’t security, like, not even let me in?” He felt weary at his brother’s idea, as well as ill at ease, feeling like he would be intruding on his brother’s privacy considering they hadn’t shared a room in many years.

“No one has roommates in Mapnerry; everyone is fortunately able to have their own dorm but we have a shared bathroom between each dorm though.” Wonho nudged his brother, taking a sip of his drink. “Plus, security won’t mind. The only thing they’ll stop you from is if you didn’t have a student ID and you were trying to get into the school, but I do and they’ll allow me a guest.”

Changkyun contemplated, worried about security. “Alright then, if you say so then yeah, thanks. Plus it would be nice to have some company than me going home and being alone since mom and dad are out in a mission.” The two continued walking, almost near the school.

Time had passed since and Changkyun glanced at his brother as he was a step behind him as they walked next to each other. He had never seen his brother so down and gloomy; his head was down as he walked with one hand in his pocket and a clear pout on his face. He wanted his brother to be happy again but he wouldn’t be without you; you were the solution and he didn’t realize this thought until he began thinking about what Wonho and the headmaster said about you. “Wait a minute,” his voice was clear, his eyes looked straight ahead as he processed the next words.

Wonho looked up to his brother. “What?” his voice was monotonous as he looked up. A small spark of hope ignited within him.

“If the headmaster is experiencing energy surges like us and Y/N has the same power as him, then she must be experiencing these surges too right?” Changkyun’s eyes were wide, feeling great.

Wonho’s eyes grew wide from a realization and his mouth created an “o” shape. “That means we, well the professor can locate her with her energy since it’ll be overflowing,” Wonho’s voice was filled with excitement, he was filled with hope but deep down he knew he couldn’t let his hope get too high unless the professor was unable to.

The two now walked faster up towards the open school gates, seeing some students entering and leaving. The path up was illuminated by torches, held by gargoyles whose horns pointed up as they were in a kneeling position, their horns prominent as their face looked down and their arms held out the torch. They approached the gate; Wonho walked through with ease but Changkyun was stopped at the barrier, unable to enter. The security turned towards Changkyun and approached him to turn him away. “He’s my guest, please allow him entry and exit for the week,” a low voice caught the security guards’ attention. They stepped away and went back to how they were before. “Changkyun you may enter.” The headmaster stood next to Wonho. Changkyun attempted to step through, sticking his hand or as well, now able to step through.

“Thank you, professor,” Changkyun nodded his head. “We also have something we wanted to ask you.” he glanced to Wonho into the campus talking. “It’s about Y/N..”

You wandered aimlessly through the woods, a feeling of familiarity mixed with distance filled you. Nature thrives all around you; bird chirping, singing their morning song, small critters scurried about chasing each other over the fallen leaves. A sudden low growl filled your ears, startling you at first until you realized where the sound came from; your stomach. You began feeling hungry as well as a thirst you weren’t going to be able to satisfy, remarking his words. Hopefully these wouldn’t be too big of obstacles on this journey you finally decided, to the school. If anything, you hoped Wonho would remember you, your own soulmate but you didn’t let your hope grow too high so it wouldn’t hurt too much if he didn’t. “This is going to take awhile..” you thought to yourself as you just walked through, hoping not to encounter another beast as you walked through. “Are my abilities really useless in this world?” You thought to yourself as you slowed down your pace, holding one of your hands up, focusing on the energy you could feel within you, but unable to release it. You could feel the energy inside you that you would usually use for your abilities were full, but no matter how hard you tried, even using different techniques of releasing it, it didn’t work.

He sat before you, his chin perched upon your knee in the cold atmospheric bubble, simply enjoying being in your presence whether you knew it or not. The sound of cars were quite a distance away, only the sound of honking cars and sirens of emergency vehicles whizzing past the abandoned road hidden by the tall trees which led to where the two of you were. Crickets from the nature outside filled the silence. His body was relaxed as his back rise and fell as he breathed, his eyes upon your resting face with his mind clear and body feeling nothing as if he was a blank piece of paper. He suddenly stood up and moved his way towards the door that lead back to his dorm and quickly returned with a pencil and a small black moleskine notebook in hand. He pulled up an old chair but stable enough to hold his weight and opened the small book, flipping through the multiple pages of his drawings of many miscellaneous things, no particular theme until he reached a blank page filled with the natural creme color. “I guess..” He broke the silence with his own voice, although he was unsure himself if you could hear him at all or not, but continued anyways as he slowly began drawing the shape of your head, continuously glancing back and forth. “I never told you my past which was the main reason why I took you..” His voice was a bit soft with the smallest hint of pain, his pronunciation of every word clear as if he was talking to you awake, the sound of his pencil against the paper making short light strokes.

“To start, I-” He struggled to push out the next words mentioning his amazing parents who he loved to the end of earth but he couldn’t causing a searing pain to bloom in his head and his tongue felt as if he couldn’t. Confusion filled him until a numbing feeling fell over him, causing him to stare into space, seeing and hearing nothing, unable to do anything until everything came rushing back to him. “I’m a broken one.. “ It pained him to think back to the fateful day when he lost her two years ago when he was a first year. “It’s cause of me..” He could remember the day vividly, feel the way your tangled hair would get caught in his fingers when he brushed them through it, scolding you in a loving way when you would complain about it hurting but it was your fault for not brushing your hair well enough.

He was awoken from his nap after taking his midterm from the chiming of his phone, ringing with his soulmate’s name and picture on it. He tiredly fumbled out of bed wearing a shirt and jeans, not bothering to change when he returned from the building where the exam had taken place. Someone had attempted to cheat on the exam foolishly which resulted them in being kicked out of the room and most likely sent to the headmaster’s office and having their test terminated which made the test proctors hold everyone there, literally blocking any way out or way in with obice generationem mages to make sure everyone else’s tests were all fair. They were special security called in for special events such as testing since they were very serious and strict about these things. He answered the phone after hearing the ringing for a bit, still groggy as he rubbed his eyes with his index finger and thumb, rubbing out the final bits of sleep.

“Hello?” His voice was a bit lower than normal, filled with sleep as he tried to suppress a yawn.

“Come to the cafe!” The energy filled voice of his soulmate woke him up entirely, no longer feeling. He was her sunshine though she was quite smaller than him, but to him, she was a perfect size to use her shoulder as a rest. “I finished my exam and so let’s celebrate!”

The corners of his mouth turned upwards as he listened intently. “I’ll leave right now~” his groggy low voice was replaced with a bright cheery one, happy to hear her voice after a few days without hearing it since she concentrated hard on studying. He hung up the phone and slipped on his shoes and his long black winter coat, leaving his dorm building and entering the cold white wonderland outside, feeling the frozen air lace against his warm skin.

The sky was washed with gray, watery light illuminating thin patches over the campus in brilliance and seeing the normal grassy area covered in smooth, crip, untouched snow. Winter pine trees covered in snow, making their branches droop lower than normal, making the areas below them much darker. Snow began to fall once again, slowly as he made it to the main avenue, not as busy around this time and streets were empty since there hadn’t been any proper shoveling done by any frigokinesis mages who were able to manipulate snow. Winter trees lined the avenue, shivering lightly in the frosty breese; their denuded forms stood starkly against the snow, almost like charcoal outlines sketched by a passing artist. Along limbs that not long ago were adorned with the vibrant colors of Autumn lies an unblemished white layer. He could feel the tip of his nose and his cheeks were now a rosy pink from the coldness, even though he did his best to hide his face. His hands were tucked in his pockets, balled into fists to keep them warm as his lower half was surprisingly doing much better than his upper half. It wasn’t long until he could see the warm lights of the cafe down the block which fortunately, the sidewalk was much easier to walk through from the steps of other people who dampened the snow which was now melted down to slush. It wasn’t long before he reached the entrance of the cafe, pushing the door to enter to be greeted in the warmest way, literally feeling the warmth of the heat from inside wrap around his cold body, the strong smell of the hot coffee being brewed, trays of warm soup and sandwiches being consumed by the few customers inside.

He scanned through the first level to see her by the window, a book open in her hands but her eyes were glued to the snowy world beyond the glass. She wore a black skirt with black stockings and winter boots, and an oversized sweater with her short brown hair, reaching to the length of her shoulders in a half up.

“Even though you finished testing, here you are reading. Ugh, my soulmate is a bookworm.” His voice caught her attention making her bring her light brown eyes to his dark ones, pretending to be in distress, using his fingers to hold his nose bridge with one hand as the other unzipped the jacket. “What am I going to do with you?” He smiled, stepping next to her in her seat, his hand holding her face as she smiled and nestled her face against his touch. He leaned down and pressed a kiss against her forehead, peppering it after words when he felt one of her hands reached up and held the back of his hand.

“Hehe, I’m your bookworm though,” she had a light tone to her voice, always sounding joyful even when she was upset or tired or sick. She was right however, she was indeed his and he would have it no other way. “Sit, I ordered some drinks and food for us a few minutes ago.” She gestured to the open seat across from her with a kind smile upon her face.

The two sat there, talking about their exams and other things, consuming their meal nicely as they spoke and simply enjoyed each other’s company after what felt like a month of nothing between them. She was an excellent student, though it took her some time to read and absorb things compared to others; she would need absolute silence and focus on whatever she was reading or studying so she turned off her phone the moment she woke up and would study for hours, having no distractions from things like social media or anything. The only distraction for her was him, however. He would miss her and write on his skin, drawing cute small things such as bunnies and hamsters and small animals of the sort to which she would ask him to stop and let her study. As much as he disliked being away and disconnected from her, he stopped. The two were finishing up their warm meals when a white shimmering light had flashed them in the eyes.

“What was that?” He blinked, trying to orient his vision, rubbing his eyes with his knuckles. “Did you see that?” He looked outside, thinking maybe it was a glare from the windshield of a car or something reflecting the sun, seeing the other customers undisturbed by it.

“Yeah, that was weird.” Her eye were being rubbed by her palms as she blinked repeatedly, slowly looking up to focus her eyes on him as he did the same. Just as her vision cleared, the chime of the cafe door caught her attention, seeing two dark figures enter the cafe with what seemed to be ski masks on. “Look,” her voice was monotone, not moving her eyes from them as they slowly began walking toward them, staring into her eyes. Both men were dressed in heavy coats, with black gloves and clothes, though one was somewhat taller than the other. They both possessed broad bodies, seeming somewhat middle aged from their bellies which bumped out a bit.

He turned around, seeing what she was seeing and quickly stood to his feet, sticking one arm out to the side to protect his soulmate if these men were to try something. They seemed to be burglars, yet everyone else in the cafe continued on with their lives, clearly not seeing these men. He tried to call out to the workers as they were usy brewing drinks and making foods, but they didn’t even bat an eye, continuing. “What the… They can’t see them? Or hear me?” They stopped a few yards away from their table in the corner, trapped and afraid to make any run in case these mages were lethal or not.

She slowly stood from her seat, fear beginning to fill her when she saw the smaller man in the back slowly pull out a gun from his pocket, very slowly. She couldn’t let his soulmate die and take a bullet for her, knowing if he did and died, she would feel the pain of breaking everyday. It wasn’t fair to him to deal with it, but she hopes since she was jumping in front, it wouldn’t kill her immediately.

“What do you want? Do you want money?” Her soulmate bravely stood up against the clearly heavily structured men, but blind to the man behind the first one. “Leave us alone!” A gunshot echoed through his ears, looking down to see where the bullet wound had hit, only to feel his heart dropping. He looked down to see her small body falling to the ground, beginning to feel a burning pain growing on his soul, growing hotter by the minutes, feeling his soul. “No, no, no, no, no, no, stay with me.” His eyes grew wide, with his eyebrows raised in shock. He pressed his hands over her wound, seeing her blood through her layers, frozen in the moment, unable to do anything. He looked back up to see the men gone, the door closing behind them. The shrilling sound of a woman’s scream filled his ears. He kept his eyes on her and hers on him, seeing droplets of water on her face, unknowing they were from him. “Stay with me.. Please..” His voice was breaking, his hands covered in her warm blood as her eyes, they began to blink ever so slowly.

The wound was small, yet a great amount of blood came from her. She began to feel weaker and weaker by the second, feeling more tired than pain oddly. It felt as if she had been shot by the sandman himself. Her vision began to slowly haze into blurs, unable to make clear of his facial distinctions she fell in love with. Even the sound of his voice was slowly beginning to blur, unable to hear much except for a constant high pitched ringing.

The two men approached the long black limo, entering it and removing their masks and gloves, touching them away into their pockets as they entered the limo, closing it and locking the doors behind them. “To Mapnerry, Wade, thank you.” The larger male tossed the gun to the side, beginning to pour himself a drink. “Would you like one, Larry?” He turned in his seat, holding up an old fashioned glass.

“No, thank you.” Both men’s voices were monotonous as they spoke, yet Larry felt uneasy. He had the ability to manipulate the senses allowing him to control what others saw or heard or felt, though he couldn’t control his own senses. “Are you sure the bullet didn’t kill her? There seemed to be quite a lot of blo-”

“Larry, I assure you.” He was cut off by his boss. “That bullet was made by me. You shot it in the place I told you. She will not die; she’ll simply be put to in a very very deep death like sleep where her pulse will be so slow, it would appear she died. Our main concern now is him. He will become a very useful piece on our chessboard, but of course, he doesn’t know, nor will he ever.” He poured the alcohol over the ice in his cup, eliciting the sound of cracking. He spoke as if he had done this before, but Larry knew he hadn’t, not for a long time.

“So what will happen to him now?” He sat forward, watching his boss as he sipped on his drink nonchalantly. “What if they find us?” He couldn’t help but worry considering he hadn’t done this in a few years, knowing that his record had just been cleared of any crime. They drove onto the main road, now out of the alleyway and stopped at a red light, waiting to go. It wasn’t long before the flashing red and white lights and the blaring sound of an ambulance were zooming past all traffic, driving straight towards the cafe.

“He will feel broken but won’t be one. The paramedics will take her to the hospital, he will most likely go with them and wait..” The limo began driving forward toward Mapnerry.

“But why are you starting this again? We escaped last time fortunately and now we have a good clean life with our new names and faces. Why?” He couldn’t help but ask, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“Bad habits die hard, and this habit is immortal. It will never die and I will never stop this. Consider me taking over Mapnerry as me scuba diving to catch fish. I’ll only catch the ones I want to eat, but save and raise the most precious fish as my own to sell later.” He laughed at his own simile as they drove into the gates of the school.

He couldn’t hear anything; it was as if everything moved in slow motion. He could feel the slowing of her heart rate through his hands as she continued to bleed out. It wasn’t long before the paramedics came through the doors, bringing a stretcher in with them as they approached the table. A telekinetic and healing mage acted swiftly, lifting her body with ease from the ground and placing her gently on the stretcher and the healing mage with a light orb forming around his hands, beginning to heal her. Other paramedic mages moved with them, placing a breathing mask over her face, her eyes now closed, pressing on the bag valve attached to the mask to ensure she got proper ventilation pressure due to her inadequate breaths. The next thing he knew, he was sitting in the ambulance as they attempted to stop the bleeding and keep her breathing.

“I understand and see your perspective on finding Y/N. While we were in my office earlier, I’m sorry to say, but I was scanning for her ability surges as well, unable to find her. Our best hope is to wait until the moon rises. Until then, I’m sorry boys, I can’t do much.” The headmaster walked into the building, heading towards his office.

The two of their hopes were diminished a bit, but they went after the headmaster. “Wait, Headmaster!” Changkyun called as they passed the entrance, catching up to the professor.

“Yes?” He turned around facing the two brothers whose faces were painted with slight disappointment but were trying to mask it.

“Could we use your arena? Changkyun believes he could beat me.” Wonho rubbed the back of his neck, hoping at least the professor would say yes.

The headmaster’s eyes practically lit up at the idea. “Ooh, of course. I am curious as well.” He chuckled before he raised his hands, allowing the black smoke to envelop their bodies once again. The headmaster sat in the viewing booth, having a clear view of the soon to be the duel between them. The two opened their eyes, each standing on opposite sides of each other in the arena with a clear barrier between them. “Are you boys ready?”

“Ready? I’m not going to hold back anything, brother or not.” A smirk grew on Changkyun’s face as he took off his flannel, tossing it to the side. Bolts of lightning and volts of electricity began to form around his hands, his hair turning white instantaneously.

“Don’t hold back,” Wonho’s voice was serious, lower than normal as he stared into his brother’s eyes, able to feel his energy radiating from where he stood. His eyes, no longer the dark earthy brown it was, but a whiteness took over. Smoke radiating off his body from the heat of fire beginning to ignite below the shin of his arms and hands, a wind circling around him as the ground of the arena beginning to shake and rumble around them.

Everyone got off the ambulance, pushing her on the stretcher, entering the hospital at quick paces as he followed quickly behind, the stain of her blood on his hands. His hearing was in and out, hearing words of them losing her, how she was recovering, but her condition was back and forth.

“At that time, Y/N, I was feeling the utmost pain within me, burning me, breaking me and ripping me to shards on the inside, but I kept it all in. I didn’t let any sign of pain come out because I couldn’t even imagine the pain she was going through. The pain of being shot in the chest along with the pain I was feeling added. It felt as if I was dying inside, my own soul breaking was crushing me from the inside out, but I followed her quietly, until they wouldn’t let me in so I sat there for hours on hours, waiting for an update on her and her surgery, but no one would tell me anything.” He looked to your closed, sleeping eyes, continuing to sketch you easily, thinking back to the torment-filled day, feeling uneasy.

He sat in the hospital waiting room on the edge of his seat with his elbows on his knees, his hands were covered in her blood, feeling as if time was stopped all around him yet the bustling nurses and doctors walking by proved otherwise. He sat there for what felt like hours when only minutes had passed by. His mind buzzed with the what happened moments ago, how worthless he felt when he was already standing before her, protecting her and ready to take anything to protect her, to not let a single scratch be inflicted upon her, yet here she was behind double doors, getting surgery to remove the bullet. He didn’t even see her go in front of him since his eyes were locked on the men, and then thinking about it really made him curious, who had done it and why? After sitting there for a bit, authorities later on and questioned him, but unfortunately, with everything they learned from him, they were still led on to a dead end.

“Boys, you may begin.” The voice of the headmaster echoed within the spacious room as he raised the barrier between them with a switch as he sat back with ease. “Show me what you got, boys.” A smirk grew on his face.

~~~~~

Chapter 1 // Previous Chapter // Next Chapter

Masterlist

#monsta x wonho #monsta x #monsta x scenarios #monsta x imagines #wonho #wonho scenario #wonho imagines #monsta x series #wonho x reader #monsta x x reader #monsta x fluff #monsta x fantasy #pillowfluffs #soulmate au #soulmate #monsta x soulmates

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asksciencesquad · 6 years

Text

WELP guess I should finally post this damn thing. I’ve picked at it wayyyy more than I need to and I just have to accept that it’s never going to be perfect.

I referenced this event like 500 years ago in a previous ask if anyone even remembers but decided it was too ambitious for a whole comic, then realized it would be a good excuse to write again. Sorry if you guys were expecting something visual, but it just be like that sometimes. I haven’t done any creative writing in a while (let alone post it on the internet) so it’s probably not my best the plot structure is weird, the narrative distance is wildly inconsistent, there’s probably way too much dialogue but it’s something and it’s actually done, so here we are.

(s/o to those of my friends who were able to read this and give me feedback, you’re amazing and I love u)

Summary: The squad visits the Barrier to do some research for an ongoing study. Things quickly go off the rails.

New Home was easily the busiest place in the entire Underground. Monsters of all shapes and sizes lived in the capital, bustling about its streets almost every hour of the day. Most of the inhabitants paid little mind to the others around them, too focused on their own business to pay attention to anyone else.

The three monsters hurrying through the crowds drew a few stares, however.

“G, could you slow down a little bit??” Sans called to the colleague rushing ahead of him. A few feet behind him, Alphys struggled to keep up. She adjusted the backpack slung over her shoulders, muttering something about a laptop.

Gaster stopped and waited for the other two to catch up. “Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize you were falling behind.” He set down the case he was carrying. He hoped the delicate scientific instruments inside hadn’t been jostled too much from his running. Normally he would’ve been a lot more careful with them, but he and his friends were behind schedule.

Sans set his case down as well, flexing his fingers a few times to unstiffen them. “The streets are so packed. They really couldn’t have sent us at a less busy time of the day?”

Gaster shrugged a little. “I’m sure they just wanted to make things harder for us. At least we’re almost there.” He turned to look at the imposing structure of the castle, visible even from several blocks away. The stone walls rose higher than most of the other buildings, making it discernible from far outside the city. It was the same monotonous gray as the other buildings around it and in the rest of New Home. The only significant difference was that the tops of the castle’s tallest towers had been painted blue – a bright spot of color in a sea of gray.

Neither he nor his friends had ever been inside. While the King could often be found wandering the streets and making small talk with his subjects, the castle was largely closed off to ordinary citizens. Gaster, at least, was excited to see it. The three of them were being sent to go to the Barrier, collecting measurements for an ongoing study. Gaster was interested to see it in person; maybe it was twisted to look forward to seeing the very thing that trapped him and his fellow monsters underground, but his curiosity got the better of him.

The tall skeleton looked back at his companions. “Should we keep going?”

Sans picked up his case again; the lizard monster next to him squinted at Gaster. “Just remember not to leave us behind again. Not everyone has a three-foot stride like you do,” she said.

“Oh, my strides are not three feet long,” Gaster responded. He smirked. “Maybe if you two weren’t so short, you could keep up.”

“H-hey!” Alphys protested. “We’re both slightly below average. You’re the one who’s ridiculously tall!”

“… Yeah, I guess that’s true.” At six and a half feet, he certainly towered over a good portion of the monster population.

By now they were only a few blocks from the castle. A flight of stairs led up to the entrance where several Royal Guards were stationed, watching closely for any signs of trouble. The sight was a little intimidating, even to the most innocent civilians.

“So…” Sans scanned the line of guards. “How does this work, exactly? Do you go up to them and say, ‘Hey, we’re the guys here to look at the Barrier, please let us in’? Or is the King himself maybe gonna bring us there?” Sans gave Alphys a playful nudge. Her normally yellow scales reddened.

Gaster rolled his eyes. “What we need to do is show them the official letter that was sent to the lab asking for someone to help collect the data. The guards and the King should know we’re coming.”

“Letter, huh? Didja get that when you volunteered all three of us to do this without asking me and Alphys first?”

“Are you still upset about that?” Gaster replied. “Okay, I know I probably should have asked, but if I hadn’t spoken up someone else would have volunteered. I figured all three of us could use a few more brownie points after the last… incident.”

There was an awkward pause between all three of them. A couple weeks ago, a power transformer they had been working on sparked violently, starting a small fire in their lab. No one got hurt, and the damage was minor, but nobody at the facility had been very happy with them. Gaster continued. “This won’t even take that long – a couple hours, at most. Besides, have either of you ever seen the Barrier?” He glanced back at his colleagues. They both shook their heads. “Neither have I. It’ll be interesting.”

They were almost at the stairs leading up to the castle’s main entrance. If the guards noticed them, they didn’t show any sign of it, remaining as stoic as ever. The scientists paused at the bottom of the steps, and Gaster fished the printed document from his pocket. He unfolded it and looked it over, his confidence wavering. He could usually keep his head in these kinds of situations, but the fact that this task involved royal affairs made him apprehensive. The stares of the ever-watching guards weren’t helping, either.

“Uh… do either of you want to ask them about this?” he asked hopefully, looking back at his friends.

“Nah, I’m good,” Sans answered.

Alphys shook her head. “You got us into this, you should do it.”

“What are you muttering about down there?” a gruff voice said behind them.

Gaster turned quickly to see who had addressed them. A large dragon-monster guard stood in front of the rest of the castle’s lineup, giving them a hard look.

“Oh, uh, nothing!” Gaster answered hastily. “We’re just, uh…” He climbed the steps up to the guard, Sans and Alphys following behind. He showed the letter to the dragon. “Actually, we’re here to look at the Barrier. I’m sure King Asgore told you we’d be coming, right?”

The guard grabbed the paper and looked it over. “Oh yeah, I remember hearing about this.” He stuffed the letter in his own pocket. “Don’t suppose you three have some kinda ID, do you?”

Gaster and Alphys produced their ID cards from the lab, at which the guard gave a nod of approval. Sans had to dig around in his pocket, but finally found his card and held it up for the guard to see. It was far more beat up than the other two, and had a strange stain on one corner. After a couple seconds, the guard nodded, albeit hesitantly.

He turned to the lineup of other guards. “Artan, take these guys up to the Barrier,” he said, pointing at a lion monster.

“Yes, sir. Follow me,” the guard said with a look at the scientists. They gathered up their gear and followed him to the doors. The guard let them enter before stepping into the castle himself. The entrance was large, as expected. The walls were made of gray stone, much smoother and polished than the exterior. A large and ornate rug covered most of the floor. The weak light of the Underground trickled through several small windows placed high above them, and a chandelier hung from the ceiling. Besides a couple chairs pushed up against the walls, the area was otherwise rather empty – almost uncomfortably so.

Artan led them down a side hallway. The scientists followed closely behind in silence. After a moment, he peered back at them. “So… all three of you are scientists?” he asked.

“Yup,” Sans said, nodding. “We’re all huge nerds.”

“Really? You guys don’t look like it.”

“Like scientists?” Gaster raised a brow. “What are we supposed to look like?”

The guard thought. “I dunno. Lab coats, older, kinda stuffy…” He looked directly at Gaster. “I kinda thought you were a bodyguard or something at first.”

“What? Why?”

Artan looked away, clearly uncomfortable. “Uh… mostly ‘cause of the cracks, honestly.”

Of course. Gaster reached up to touch the small crack running over his right brow. It certainly wasn’t the first time someone had made an assumption like that, but it never failed to bother him. “Yeah, uh… those are just from an old accident,” he said. “Trust me, I’m definitely not cut out for the Royal Guard or anything.”

“No kidding,” Sans said, snorting. “Can you even imagine? You’d probably get slaughtered on your first day.”

“Heh, yeah, probably.” He actually found the idea pretty unsettling, but he wouldn’t say anything with an actual guard around.

Artan shrugged. “Well, I guess you’d know better than me.”

***

The rest of the trip was quiet. When words were exchanged, they were usually just one or two-word sentences. Evidently the awkward conversation earlier had set the mood for everyone.

Artan led them onto a couple elevators and through several winding, gray hallways. Soon, the group entered a new hallway that was vastly different from the others. Polished tiles covered the floor, and one wall was covered in detailed murals outlining the history of monsterkind. On the opposite wall were several stained-glass windows. Yellow light filtered through them, casting the hall in a warm glow.

Sans whistled. “Impressive. This must be an important hall.”

“We’re close to the throne room,” Artan explained. “And just beyond that is the Barrier.” He didn’t seem as awed by the corridor as the three visitors. Gaster figured he’d seen it dozens of times before.

Another gray passageway greeted them when they exited the hall, which then led to the throne room. It was even brighter than the golden hallway. King Asgore’s throne sat in the center, surrounded by small yellow flowers. Gaster looked at the flowers at his feet, getting a sinking feeling in his soul. He knew they had come from the surface. That fact might have been exciting in any other context, but every monster in the Underground knew why they were growing here.

The guard led them down a passageway that led to where the Barrier was. At first it steadily got darker, but at some point their surroundings grew lighter again. Gaster’s eyes widened as they entered the Barrier room. It took up a large portion of the back wall, pulsing with white light. The whole area was filled with a strong and alien energy that could only be human magic.

“Feels weird, right?” the guard asked. He stayed near the doorway as the other three walked closer to the Barrier. “There aren’t many things I’m afraid of, but this place kinda gives me the creeps.”

Reading about the Barrier’s effects was one thing, but actually feeling it was entirely different; being this close to such a powerful magical force was indeed a little unsettling. Gaster felt it permeate through his bones, stronger than he could ever hope his own magic could be. It was unlike anything he’d experienced before.

He pushed his discomfort to the back of his mind. Pleasant or not, they had work to do. “Well, we might as well get started,” he said. Kneeling down, he opened his case and looked over the various science instruments, trying to decide which one to set up first.

“And I’ll boot up the laptop,” Alphys offered, taking off her backpack and unzipping it. In almost a whisper she added, “The sooner we start, the sooner we can leave.” Gaster was a little surprised that Alphys wasn’t more enthusiastic - she was usually excited about anything related to humans. She must’ve found the Barrier’s magic particularly uncomfortable.

As they all busied themselves with their setup, Artan stood by the door in silence. After a moment, he took a few more steps into the room. “Do the three of you need anything else? Cuz if you don’t, then I’ll just… leave…” He jerked his thumb at the door awkwardly.

Gaster looked up from the device he was holding. “I think we’re fine. After we take our measurements, we’re heading back to the lab right away.”

“Alright, well, if you do need something there’s, you know… plenty of guards in this place to ask.”

Gaster nodded in acknowledgement. The guard turned back to the entrance and left them to work. Once his footsteps faded away, Alphys looked up from her keyboard. “Huh, he sounded uncomfortable,” she observed.

“No kidding,” Gaster said. “Can’t blame him – the Barrier can do weird things to monsters.”

Alphys snapped her head up in alarm. “What?? L-like what?? Why didn’t you say anything to us??”

Gaster took his eyes off his hands to look over at her. “Did you not read the documents I gave you? Both of you?” During his informal research on the Barrier, he’d been giving anything particularly important to Sans and Alphys. He'd hoped that it would help them all be well-prepared for the excursion, but apparently all of that effort might have gone to waste. He glanced at Sans as well, giving him a questioning look.

“Eh, I read a couple of ‘em,” Sans said, unconcerned. “Don’t remember any warnings about the Barrier.”

“I skimmed most of them, but… i-it’s not anything bad, is it?” Alphys stammered.

“No, no, we’ll be fine,” Gaster reassured her. “It’s just that there’s a lot of powerful and concentrated magic here, and not everyone can handle it. A lot of monsters have reported feeling… uneasy around the Barrier.” He set down the instrument he’d been holding and started looking over another. “The other effects include things like headaches, anxiety, nausea… nothing serious or long-lasting.”

“Well, that’s good to know,” Sans said with mild interest. He’d conjured up a bone and was moving it around aimlessly with his magic.

“Hey, cut that out!” Gaster snatched it out of the air. “The Barrier is really sensitive to any contact with other magic – which you’d know if you’d read anything.” He dropped the bone to the ground, where it disintegrated on impact. “If we hit it with our magic, it’ll react and affect all our work. I don’t know about you, but I’d rather not have to go back to the lab without any usable data.”

“Alright, alright, I gotcha,” Sans said. “Geez, you’re such a hardass sometimes.”

“Only when it really matters. What we’re doing today is important.”

Sans still seemed as aloof as ever. “Okay, so… what exactly is all this for? I know the data goes to the Royal Scientist and their team, but what do they do with it?”

Gaster thought back to all the material he’d read about the Barrier study. “I’m… not sure what exactly they look for. I just know the observations started decades ago with one of the previous Royal Scientists. Obviously, the hope is that we can use the information to somehow bring down the Barrier.”

“Why even bother? The easiest thing to do would be to just wait ‘til one more unlucky kid falls down here. Doesn’t take a bunch of engineers to realize that.”

Gaster wished the other skeleton would take this a little more seriously. “Because,” he began, “For one thing, the study began a long time ago when we had fewer human souls. For another, there’s no way to be sure when another human will even come down here. It’s already been… what, 40 or 50 years since the last one?” Gaster looked at the Barrier. “If the human kids living near Mt. Ebott have finally learned and started avoiding it, who knows how long we have to wait. We might as well be proactive about it.”

“Yeah, I guess. Still, there’s always gonna be kids who ignore warnings and do stupid things. Like climb up a cursed mountain.”

Sans wasn’t entirely wrong. Still, it sounded better to try and do something in the meantime rather than sit around waiting – hoping - for the next human to fall down. If scrutinizing the Barrier could lead to their freedom sooner, that’s what Gaster would do.

“Well, either way we still have to do what we were, ahem, ‘assigned,’” Alphys said, with a glance at Gaster. “Where should we start?”

“Probably should start with overall magic levels,” Sans suggested. “We can work on the more complex stuff later.”

Gaster nodded. “Sounds fine to me.” He looked over the open carrying cases, grabbing the correct instrument for reading magic levels. He turned it on and fiddled with some of the settings.

Alphys looked back to her laptop, while Gaster and Sans went over to their other equipment. Gaster immersed himself in his work, calibrating the instruments and discussing the setup with the other two monsters. It actually wasn’t very complicated, but he figured it was best to be extra meticulous considering who the data would be going to.

“HEY!” an unfamiliar voice suddenly shouted, catching him completely off-guard. Looking up, he saw a blue fish-monster standing in the doorway. She held a spear of cyan magic and gave them a piercing look. “What’re you three doing here??” she demanded, glowering at each of the three monsters.

None of them spoke.

She jabbed her spear in their direction threateningly. “Well? Is anyone gonna say something? Or do I have to force you to talk?”

“Wow, okay, take it easy!” Gaster held up his hands . “Why do you need to know? Who even are you?”

“I’m Undyne, and I’m part of the king’s Royal Guard.” Her eyes narrowed. “Now who the hell are you punks?”

“We’re scientists, we’re just here to research the Barrier,” Gaster explained. “All we’re doing is taking some measurements. The head guard even has an official letter that says what we’re doing, go ask him about it.”

“And leave you three all alone again? Yeah, right.” Undyne looked the three monsters up and down. “Why should I even believe you guys are scientists? You don’t have lab coats or anything.”

Sans cocked a brow. “We, uh, don’t really wear lab coats outside the lab. This is fieldwork.”

“Why should we believe you’re a guard? You definitely don’t look like one,” Gaster argued, pointing at her tank top and pants.

“Well, technically I’m off-duty today. But justice never rests! And I’m not gonna just stand by when something looks funny to me!” Undyne tightened the grip on her spear, making sparks of energy fly off. “I’m one of King Asgore’s students, so if you were supposed to be here, he would have told me about it.”

“M-maybe he just forgot to tell you?” Alphys offered. “I mean, he m-must be pretty busy-“

“Asgore wouldn’t forget to tell me anything!” Undyne snapped. “Now, you all need to come with me or else you’ll be in big trouble.”

Gaster frowned. He had a hard time believing this monster was a guard, let alone a student of Asgore’s. "Alright, this is ridiculous,” he said. “I’m going to go find a real guard to deal with you.” He was only able to take a few steps before several blue spears erupted in front of him. He stumbled backwards, nearly falling to the floor.

“I didn’t say you could move!” Undyne barked. “You aren’t going anywhere!”

Gaster’s soul pounded as he looked up from the spears that had almost impaled him. “Can you stop with the arrows already??” he asked indignantly.

“Not until you start listening to me!”

Gaster’s patience was wearing thin. “You aren’t listening to us! I’m trying to tell you what we’re doing here! We’re not up to anything!”

“I’m not taking that chance!” Undyne hurled her spear at the other three monsters. They ducked, letting the attack sail right over their heads. Instead, it collided with the Barrier at the back of the cavern. Waves of cyan magic rippled through it as it absorbed the spear’s energy.

Gaster, Alphys and Sans could only stare helplessly. They hadn’t even gotten a single measurement, and now anything they did take would be unusable. The fish-monster had ruined their entire trip.

“Consider that a warning shot,” she said. “I don’t usually give those, so be thankful for that.”

Gaster turned back to the fish-monster, pointing at the Barrier. “Thankful? Do you have any idea what you just did?! Your magic affected the whole Barrier! Now we can’t even do what we came here for!”

“Then I’ve done my job. Now, if you still don’t come with me, I’ll-“

There was a loud ‘PING!’. Undyne’s soul lit up with blue light, and she was jerked a few feet in the air. She flailed her limbs as her remaining arrows dissipated. Below her, Sans kept firm control over her soul through her struggling.

“HEY! WHAT THE HELL??” she snarled down at him.

“Hey, don’t take it personally. I think your desire to protect the kingdom is uplifting, but you’re being kind of a problem right now.” He turned to Alphys. “I can hold her while you and G go find an actual guard to help us with this.” The fish-monster kept thrashing and twisting her body, trying in vain to break free of the blue magic. “… Just, uh, try to be quick about it.”

Alphys scurried to Gaster's side and they began hurrying towards the exit. She looked up at him once they were out of earshot. “A-are you okay??” she fretted. “You could’ve been killed!”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he told her. He was still rattled, but at least he was in one piece. “We really need to find someone before-“

They heard a loud bellow behind them. Gaster looked back right as Undyne threw a spear down at Sans. Startled, he jumped sideways out of its direct path, but it still managed to graze his arm. He yelled out in pain, and Undyne fell to the ground as he lost his hold on her soul.

“SANS!” Gaster and Alphys both exclaimed, running back over to his side. Undyne took the opportunity to scramble back to her feet as they tended to their friend.

“Maybe now you’ll follow my orders,” she growled, conjuring up another spear. “I’m not in the mood for games.”

Gaster bristled, whipping around to face her. “What the fuck is your problem?!” he shouted, gesturing at the other skeleton. “Sans wasn’t even attacking you! You had no reason to do that!”

Undyne clutched her spear with both hands, adopting a battle stance. “Threatening a guard is a serious offense!” she retorted. “And using soul magic counts! You’re all gonna be in deep shit when I’m done with you!”

As they both glared at each other, something inside Gaster finally snapped. He’d had more than enough of this monster, and he wasn’t going to keep waiting around for someone else to come and help. “Alright, that is it.” He stepped towards her. “You threatened us, you ruined our work, and now you’re attacking us! I am done with you!”

Before Undyne could make another move, he gathered up his own magic and started summoning an attack. Two large, beastly skulls quickly materialized on either side of him. They didn’t look like the skull of any existing creature - their bottom jaws were split down the middle and filled with long teeth, and they were adorned with small spikes. White rings of light glowed from their orbits, eyeing their target. Undyne gaped in disbelief.

Gaster stared her down, eye sockets completely black. “Now,” he said icily. “Are you going to cut it out, or do you want to try attacking us again? Because if you do…”

The skulls opened their jaws, magic gathering in their mouths.

“…You are REALLY not going to like what happens next.”

Undyne didn't say anything. She obviously had fighting experience, but by the look on her face, she’d never encountered magic like this. Gaster hoped it would be intimidating enough to make her stop assailing them.

After a moment, she snapped out of her stupor, her face hardening with resolve. “I am not backing down,” she said, looking Gaster in the eye. “I’m staying right here.”

He hadn’t been expecting that response. He’d been certain she would give up or run - everyone else did when they first saw his Blasters. It hadn’t even crossed his mind to make a Plan B.

Shit. Shit shit shit, this was a stupid idea! What had he been thinking? What was he supposed to do now?? He felt his control on the Blasters slipping, riling them up even more. He refocused, reining them back in before they could fire at the fish-monster. Somehow, he managed to keep his outward expression from reflecting his inner state. The best he could do was stall until he either thought of something else or someone finally showed up. “…Well, I’m not backing down either,” he finally said. “Not until you agree to quit it.”

“Well, there’s no way in hell I’m doing that!”

“Then I guess we’ve reached a stalemate.”

There was a pause. Gaster wondered if she was reconsidering what she was doing. Suddenly, Undyne jumped aside in an attempt to surprise him. Just as quickly, one of the magical skulls fired off a small blast of magic that hit a couple feet in front of her. Not close or powerful enough to hurt her, but enough to stop her in her tracks.

She glared again at the skeleton, and he returned the look. “Consider that a warning shot,” he said. She growled in frustration.

Gaster wasn’t entirely sure how much of that last shot was him and how much was the Blaster’s doing. His panic grew. What was he supposed to do if she did that again? He didn’t actually want to hurt her. He didn’t want any of this. He prayed that things wouldn’t escalate further.

They continued their staredown. Nobody moved or said a word. Gaster occasionally heard shuffling noises from the two monsters behind him, but it was otherwise quiet. After a few long minutes, Gaster broke the silence. “Alphys, how’s Sans doing?” he asked, without turning back to look at her. He didn’t dare take his eyes off of Undyne.

“Uh, he’s… alright, I think. I-it’s not too bad,” the lizard monster replied.

“’M okay,” Sans groaned unconvincingly.

“See? Your friend is fine,” Undyne said. “So how about you put your freaky skull things away and-“

“Yeah, I don’t think so.” The blasters opened their jaws a bit more. His desire to protect his friends outweighed his reluctance to use his attack. He wasn’t going to give her any leeway.

She scowled, tightening the grip on her spear. “You can’t keep this up forever. You’ll exhaust your magic sooner or later.”

“I don’t need to last forever - I just need to outlast you. Unless you just want to give up right now?” Gaster knew there was no way he had more stamina than her, but she didn’t know that. As long as he acted confident, she might actually believe him.

She didn’t seem to be fazed. “No way am I going to submit to some punk bag of bones like you. I’m not afraid of you or your weird attack!” One of the Blasters snapped at her; Undyne instinctively took half a step back.

“If you say so,” Gaster replied, shrugging. He couldn’t help but smirk a little.

Undyne glared harder at him. “God, you are such an asshole.”

He scoffed. “I’m an asshole? You attacked us first! You’re the one who’s playing vigilante here!”

“I’m not a vigilante! I told you I’m a Royal Guard!”

“A real Royal Guard would be protecting citizens, not terrorizing them!”

“Terrorizing??” Undyne snarled. “You have a LOT of nerve accusing me-“

“What on Earth is going on over here?” a low voice interrupted from the hallway. Gaster watched as King Asgore himself stepped into the room, ducking his head to avoid hitting the top of the door. His eyes widened when he saw the scene before him. “Oh, my.”

“Y-your majesty!” Gaster stammered, his concentration breaking. The Blasters grumbled a little before dissipating in a cloud of purple magic. The skeleton had never felt more relieved. “Thank god you’re here!” He pointed at Undyne. “I don’t know who this thug thinks she is, but-“

“These three punks are here without permission!” Undyne interjected. “The short guy used magic on me, and then beanpole here threatened me with his crazy skull creatures-“

“You attacked us! You hit Sans with your spear!”

“You guys weren’t LISTENING to me-“

“Alright, alright, everyone settle down!” Asgore held up a large hand to silence both of them. He walked over to Undyne. “Is this why I didn’t find you in the garden for your training session?”

Gaster froze. Training session?

“Well, yeah!” she replied. “I had to keep an eye on them! I didn’t know whether they were supposed to be here or not!”

Gaster’s relief at the king’s arrival quickly turned to dread. Undyne really was one of Asgore's students. If that was the case, there was no way he’d be getting out of this situation unscathed.

Asgore looked over at the three scientists. “And what are you doing here, exactly?”

Gaster started as the king addressed them. “Oh, uh, we were just… collecting data on the Barrier - I mean, at least we were going to. But then this fish-monster came in and interrupted us.”

“Oh, yes. You must be the ones from the Barrier study.”

“Wait, what??” Undyne asked incredulously. “You knew they were coming? Why didn’t I hear about this??”

“I must have forgotten to mention it,” Asgore said. “…Even so, you are not on duty today. All you came here for was to meet with me, not take care of suspected criminals. You should have brought it up to another guard, at the very least.” He glanced back at the doorway. “And I would have expected you to stay within the throne room while these three were working.”

Undyne opened her mouth to protest, but closed it again without a word. Asgore turned back to the scientists. “Now, what happened that led to the, ah… confrontation that I saw?” he asked, looking at Gaster again.

“Uh…” He grew cold. How could he ever explain pulling his attack out on one of the king’s students? “I… uh, I-I mean, we - we were just… Undyne was going to - I mean, I-I would never actually-“

“Gaster only used his attack after she hit me,” Sans interjected.

Both monsters looked over at the skeleton. “We were just setting up when she kinda… barged in here and demanded we come with her. We all tried to explain ourselves but she wouldn’t listen, and she started throwin’ spears at us.” He glanced over at Undyne, who only glared back. “I tried to restrain her with my magic first, but then she got me with one of her spears. G used his magic before she could attack us again.” Alphys stayed quiet, but backed Sans up with a lot of nodding, avoiding looking directly at Asgore.

“Hey, you left out the part where your friend fired at me,” Undyne contended.

Gaster faltered. “W-well, yeah - but I missed you by like, two feet!” he countered. “You gave us a warning shot first, so I figured I’d return the favor.”

Asgore gave him a questioning look. “You fired your attack at her?”

“I… did… but that was after she tried to attack us first, and after she hurt Sans. I didn’t actually want to hurt her, but I – I didn’t know how else to get her to stop,” he answered. It was a terrible explanation, he realized. He was doomed.

“I see,” Asgore said. “You are aware that attacking a Royal Guard is punishable by law, aren’t you?”

“Of course, but…”

Once again, Sans jumped in. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, Gaster – all of us – were just trying to defend ourselves. We had no idea if she was actually a guard or just some random monster that was trying to kill us.”

Asgore’s expression became thoughtful. “Hmm… that is a fair point.” He turned to Undyne. “Did you show these three any proof you were a Royal Guard? Your badge, perhaps?”

Undyne looked away. “Well, no. I don’t have it with me.”

“Did you ask anyone else about them before you came in here?”

“Uhhhhh… no. I thought I could deal with them by myself.” Her ear-fins drooped slightly.

Asgore sighed. “Undyne, please wait for me out in the gold hall. We’ll talk more when I’m done here.”

“Yes, Asgore.” She shuffled out of the room.

Asgore watched until she was gone before turning back to the three monsters before him. He’d barely opened his mouth before Gaster decided to speak first.

“King Asgore, before you decide anything, I just want to remind you that these two didn’t do anything,” he sputtered, gesturing at his companions. “I was the one who escalated things!”

“What? No, you weren’t,” Sans interrupted. “She attacked us first, G, don’t take the fall for this.”

“I fired at her! A Royal Guard!”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Asgore said. “Let’s all calm back down.”

Gaster couldn’t relax very much, but fell quiet. He noticed Sans grimace a bit, adjusting his grip on his arm. Alphys took a step towards him. “Sans? A-are you okay?”

Sans hesitated. “Yeah, I’m alright. Just hurts a little.” Gaster couldn’t help but roll his eyes; Sans could be bleeding out on the floor and he would still insist he was fine.

Asgore looked at Sans with concern. “I suppose we should do something about your arm. I can heal it, if you’d like me to.”

“… Really?”

“Of course,” he said. “You did get injured by one of my students, after all. I think I should take partial responsibility.”

Sans looked down at his arm uncertainly. “Well, sure, if you really wanna.” He walked up to the king, carefully taking his hand off the wound. The boss monster held a large paw over it, glowing softly with green magic. After a few seconds, Sans was fully healed.

Asgore took a step back. “Is that better?”

Sans relaxed. “Yeah, a lot better. Thanks.” He rubbed the place where the injury used to be. “You, uh, really didn’t have to do that, you know.”

“Oh, it’s hardly any trouble.” Asgore was quiet for a moment, scratching his beard thoughtfully. “You know, I should’ve remembered to tell Undyne about you all coming. She may be a guard, and has lots of potential, but she’s still fairly new. She also tends to be … rash in situations like this. I can’t blame you too much for trying to defend yourselves. How about we just put this all behind us and move on?”

Gaster stared at the boss monster. “But…Undyne is a guard. And one of your students! I almost hurt her! Aren’t you mad about that?”

Asgore chuckled a little. “I certainly could be. But believe me, it would take more than one attack to take Undyne down. You didn’t even want to hurt her in the first place, right?”

Gaster could hardly process what was happening. The king was completely serious. “In any case,” the boss monster continued. “I hope she didn’t derail your work too much.”

“Well…” Gaster rubbed the back of his neck. “Actually, Undyne kind of wrecked everything. We were supposed to observe the Barrier under normal circumstances, but one of her spears ended up hitting it. It’s really sensitive to contact with magic, so… now it’s not normal. We’d have to wait until it goes back to its regular state.”

“Oh.” Asgore furrowed his brow. “And how long will that take?”

Gaster could only shrug. “A few days, at least – probably longer. It depends on how powerful her magic was.” More potent magic was known to affect the Barrier for weeks. Undyne’s spears didn’t look like a particularly strong attack individually, but there was no way of knowing exactly how powerful it was. An uncontrolled variable like that would make things much more complicated if they tried to take any measurements now.

The king sighed. “Undyne…” He rubbed the bridge of his nose. The fish-monster was definitely giving him a run for his money. “There isn’t anything you’d be able to do here?”

“’Fraid not,” Sans said. “Everything we were going to do involved the Barrier.”

“I see.” Asgore looked over at the magical construct that trapped his people underground. “I’m really sorry about this whole mess; I should have remembered to tell Undyne.” He turned back to the scientists. “So, what are you going to do now?”

Gaster shrugged again. “Well, I guess we go back to the lab and tell them that the Barrier got disrupted before we could do anything. Someone else will have to come back here later to get measurements.”

“In that case, I can have a message sent to your lab explaining what happened, if that would help. I wouldn’t want you to get in trouble for something that wasn’t your fault.”

The skeleton blinked. He looked at Sans and Alphys, who looked as surprised as he was. He hadn’t expected Asgore to let any of them off the hook, let alone get involved with their employers. “Uh, yeah, s-sure… if you really want to.”

“Well, of course. It’s the least I can do to make up for all this. Is there anything else I can help you with?”

Gaster felt guilty about how much the king was doing for them already. “No, I don’t think so,” he said. “You’ve helped a lot already.”

“Then I suppose I shouldn’t keep you any longer. I’ll leave you to pack up all your things. You all take care, now. And you two…” He looked at the skeletons. “Just be careful with your magic.”

Sans shrugged. “Personally, I don’t think you have much to worry about. But yeah, we can do that.”

Satisfied, Asgore finally left the room. After a moment of shocked silence, Alphys laughed nervously. “Well, that was… something.”

“It really was,” Gaster agreed distantly, not taking his eyes off the exit.

Sans looked at him suspiciously. “You don’t feel guilty about any of this, do you? ‘Cause you really don’t need to.”

“I… I don’t know. Maybe?” Gaster started walking back over to their equipment. “I don’t get why Asgore would do anything for us after all this.”

“I think he’s just l-like that,” Alphys said. “He likes helping where he can.”

“Yeah, that’s true,” Gaster agreed. “I guess I also feel… embarrassed, or something?” He sighed. “I should’ve controlled my emotions better. I really don’t like anyone to see that side of me.”

“Well, that side of you saved our butts today, so I’m not complainin’,” Sans said as he followed the other skeleton.

“Hey, you argued us out of getting in trouble.I would’ve been done for if you hadn’t come along.”

“Well, you also tried to take the blame for everything,” Alphys chimed in. “Which was really dumb, by the way.”

“I didn’t want anything to happen to you guys! We’re only here today because of me.”

“G.” Sans adopted a more serious tone. “Literally no one could have guessed this would happen. None of this was your fault.”

“Don’t forget that Sans used his magic, too,” Alphys pointed out. “And, uh, maybe the two of us could have done more to de-escalate things… or something.”

Sans nodded. “Either way, Undyne was the one who started it all. As far as I’m concerned, she can take most of the blame.” He put the last item into his case and closed it. “Look, let’s just get back to the lab, deal with not having any data, and forget about this whole day.”

“I’m good with that,” Alphys said.

“Fine with me.” Gaster was more than happy to leave and never have to deal with the Barrier – or Undyne – ever again.

***

None of them spoke as they left the Barrier room. Whether they got in trouble over it or not, they weren’t excited to have to go back to work with nothing, and the impending disappointment hung over them like a storm cloud. They proceeded down the hallway to the throne room, the light gradually getting stronger. The throne room greeted them with its full brightness and garden, but they didn’t stay around to appreciate their surroundings.

At this point the silence had become unbearable. “What do you think will happen to Undyne?” Alphys finally asked, stopping before they entered the next hall.

“Who knows,” Gaster said. “Asgore said she still had things to work on. If that’s true, then maybe she shouldn’t even be a guard.”

“I-I don’t know… maybe she should get a second chance. Like Asgore said, she just n-needs to work on a few things,” Alphys said.

Both Gaster and Sans stopped and looked back at her. She looked away quickly. “I-I mean, what happened wasn’t okay, but, uh, she… she has all the good qualities of a guard, too!”

Sans cocked a brow. “Alphys, she hit me. That’s kind of a big deal.”

“N-no, that wasn’t good, b-but I just…” She trailed off, blushing.

For a moment, the skeletons stared at her. Then Sans began to snicker. “Alphys, do you like her or something?” he asked.

“W-w-what?? No! Don’t be ridiculous! That’s- you don’t-“ Alphys stumbled over her words again, stepping back. “W-we don’t even know her!”

“Dang, Alphys, falling for Asgore and his apprentice. What, does she remind you of an anime warrior princess?”

“Shut up!” Alphys hissed, face reddening even more.

Gaster rolled his eyes. “Knock it off, Sans. I don’t think we’re really in the mood for this.”

The other skeleton chuckled. “Sorry, Al. It’s just… she doesn’t seem like the type you’d be into. But hey, I won’t judge.”

Alphys grumbled. “Can we just forget about it? I doubt they’d ever send us back here, s-so… it’s not like I’ll ever see her again.”

“And I, for one, am grateful for that,” Gaster muttered. The mere thought of ever having to deal with Undyne again aggravated him. They left the throne room and garden behind, stepping into the so-called Golden Hallway. Several smaller hallways branched off of it on one side. Gaster scanned the wall opposite the windows, trying to remember which passage they’d come from. His eyes drifted up to the mural painted on the wall above the pillars. He hadn’t gotten a good look on the way to the Barrier, but now he noticed some of the more grisly scenes. Among the depictions of the monsters’ achievements and portraits of notable individuals, there were many images of the war with the humans long ago – some of which were surprisingly graphic. It was a jarring contrast to the serenity of the rest of the hall.

“Um… I think we c-came from the fourth one down,” Alphys said, averting her gaze. “The one under the part of the mural with… a bunch of humans stabbing a monster.”

“Pretty gross, huh?” another voice said.

Gaster snapped his head in the direction the voice had come from. Undyne emerged from behind one of the pillars of the hall, flashing a toothy grin at the small group.

Apparently the universe just hated the skeleton today. “Shouldn’t you be with Asgore by now?” he asked her flatly.

Undyne leaned against the pillar, crossing her arms. “Normally, yeah. He said he had to send something to your bosses or whatever first and told me to keep waiting here.” She looked at the three of them in turn. “So, you guys are leaving?”

“Well, yeah,” Sans replied. “We can’t really do anything with the Barrier right now.”

Undyne grumbled in annoyance. “Look, I’m sorry, I know I fucked up. But can you really blame me for assuming you were up to something when no one ever told me about you guys?” She looked directly at Gaster. “And it’s not like you’re entirely blameless, either.”

Any lingering guilt he had been feeling instantly evaporated. “Hey, you started it!” he contended. “We tried to reason with you, and you started throwing magic attacks at us. Did you expect us to just take it?” Undyne didn’t respond, so he went on. “Clearly, you don’t have the right temperament for a Royal Guard. I’d be surprised if Asgore didn’t fire you over this.”

The fish monster snorted. “Fire me? As if. I’ve known Asgore since I was a kid. It’ll take more than one little misunderstanding to get me kicked out of the Guard.”

“Little?” Gaster echoed. “You hit Sans, you ruined our observations, everyone at work will be pissed at us because we have no data… ‘little’ is an understatement!”

“Okay, fine, it wasn’t just a little misunderstanding. I said I was sorry, what more do you want from me?”

“You could leave us alone, for starters. The king can take care of the rest.”

Gaster felt a nudge and noticed Sans was now standing next to him. “G, come on, let’s just go. It’s not worth dealing with her.”

Gaster gave Undyne one last look before taking a deep breath. “Yeah, you’re right.” He turned back to the passage that they’d been heading to. “Well, if you’re done with your half-assed apology, we’ll be going on our way.”

“Woah, hey, not so fast!” Undyne rushed forward, stopping right in front of him. “Okay, look, we got off on the wrong foot there. I was actually thinking maybe we could… talk a little?”

Gaster glared down at her. “Forget it. I think you’ve interacted with us enough for-“

“I don’t wanna talk with all you punks,” Undyne interrupted. “Just you, tall guy.”

He raised a brow. “You can’t be serious.”

“Look, just hear me out,” said the fish-monster. “If you don’t like what I say, then you and your pals can leave and I’ll never bother you again, I swear.”

Gaster peered back at the other two monsters. Sans shrugged hesitantly and Alphys looked away, but neither objected to letting him and Undyne talk. The skeleton turned back to her. “Fine. Tell me what you want to – but make it quick.” He set down his case of equipment and folded his arms.

Undyne grinned in satisfaction. Gaster was unsettled; less than an hour ago she'd been ready to kill them all, but now she was eager to make small talk with him. He was starting to question her sanity.

“Okay, so… you’ve got a pretty powerful special attack, huh?”

Gaster blinked. Of all the topics she might have wanted to discuss, he hadn’t expected her to ask about his magic. “I... suppose?” he answered.

“How powerful are those skull things, exactly?”

Gaster already didn’t like where this conversation was going. “I don’t really know, honestly. I’ve never tested them or anything. All I know is that whatever I’ve used them on has gotten really damaged or destroyed.”

Undyne nodded. “Interesting. And what kind of things have you used them on?”

The skeleton tried to remember everything he’d fired his Blasters at. “Things at the dump, boulders, tree stumps… textbooks that your college won’t buy back… that kind of stuff. Nothing important.”

“But have you like, used them on another monster? I know you gave me a warning shot back there, but-”

“What? No, of course not! I wouldn’t want to actually hurt someone with them! Did you not hear me say that to the king?”

“Hey, chill, it was just a question.”

Gaster narrowed his eyes. Was she really interested in his magic, or was she just trying to get a rise out of him? “What exactly are you getting at? I told you to make this quick, so cut to the chase already.”

Undyne grumbled. “Alright, fine.” She paused to think about what to say next. “Uh, okay, I bet this’ll sound crazy, but… have you ever thought about joining the Royal Guard?”

He stiffened. “Joining the Royal Guard?"

“Well, yeah, why not?” Undyne gave him another toothy smile. “You’ve got a hell of an attack, and I’m sure you’re a little tougher than you look. Plus, it looks like you’ve seen your fair share of scuffles, right?”

Gaster looked away sheepishly. Everyone seemed to be interested in the fractures today. “Uh, not exactly. The cracks are just from a stupid accident.”

“Oh,” Undyne said, slightly less enthusiastic. “Well still, you haven’t ever thought about becoming a Royal Guard?”

“Not really, no.”

“Come on, I’m sure you’d be fine! You might even be really good at it.”

“No.” Gaster tried stepping around her, but she blocked him.

“Can’t you at least think it over for a bit?”

He scowled. “What part of ‘no’ don’t you understand? I’m not joining the Royal Guard.”

“Why the hell not?” Undyne demanded. “You want to waste all that potential just to do a bunch of nerd stuff? You’d be a huge asset against a human! Don’t you care about the rest of monsterkind??”

“Of course I do! But I don’t want to do this!” Gaster shot back, gesturing at the violent art above them. “Didn’t you say you would leave me alone if I didn’t like what you said? Because I really don’t.”

“Well, I didn’t actually expect you to refuse an invitation to the Royal Guard,” Undyne spat. “It’s not just about you, this involves every monster that’s trapped down here. Think about everyone else!”

“What I do with my life is none of your business! I worked hard to get where I am, and I’m not throwing it all away to work with some brute like you.” He tried to step around the fish monster a second time, but she blocked his path again.

“If you would just listen-“

“No, I’m done listening to you! So back off!” The skeleton finally managed to outmaneuver Undyne, storming off in the direction he and his companions had been headed. Sans and Alphys followed after him, leaving Undyne behind in the hall.

***

In the castle’s gray passages, Gaster stewed in his own thoughts. He should’ve known better than to let Undyne talk to him after seeing his attack. Of course the only thing she cared about was how strong his magic was. Of course she didn’t care what he’d already chosen to do with his life. Of course she would try to get him to join the Royal Guard. And of course she’d say he was selfish when he refused.

He’d heard it all before. Several times.

“G, wait up!” Sans called from behind him, pulling him out of his thoughts. Gaster slowed down. Part of him wanted to stay far ahead of them to process his emotions alone, but leaving Sans and Alphys behind would make it harder for any of them to find their way back. He decided to stop, but barely acknowledged his friends once they reached him.

Alphys looked up at the skeleton. “Gaster, um… a-are you okay?” she asked.

Gaster huffed. “No, not really.” He started walking again.

“Geez, she sure pissed you off back there,” Sans remarked.

“It isn’t just her. It’s…” Gaster hesitated. “Never mind. It’s nothing.”

“Sure doesn’t seem like it.”

“It’s lame, old family drama. I’m sure you don’t want to hear about it.” Usually he’d tell his friends at least a little about something that was bothering him, but talking about his family was particularly uncomfortable. As far as he remembered, he’d never talked to Sans or Alphys about them.

“Family drama?” Sans repeated. “Like, your mom and sister?”

“Oh, god, no. It’s on my dad’s side of the family.”

Alphys’s eyes widened. “Your dad’s side? I’ve never heard you mention anyone else in your family.”

“Yeah. It’s not exactly my favorite subject,” Gaster admitted. “I probably shouldn’t be letting it get to me this much.” He hadn’t even seen his relatives in a long time. Surely nothing they’d ever said should still bother him at this point in his life.

Alphys looked up at him with concern. “Would, um, talking more about it help?”

He slowed down a little. “I’m not sure. I’ve never told you guys anything about this, so...”

“I-I mean, you don’t have to,” Alphys added. “But we’d both listen. Right, Sans?”

“Sure,” he replied. “Listening is pretty easy.”

Gaster mulled it over. “… Alright, I could tell you a little bit. Just don’t judge me or anything, okay?”

“What, didja murder someone?” Sans quipped. “Cuz I might have some problems with that.”

Gaster laughed a little, despite himself. “No, it’s not quite that bad.” He walked over to a nearby wall and leaned back against it. “Well, to make a long story short, when I was growing up I had a lot of family members telling me to join the Royal Guard because of my special attack. No matter how many times I said no, someone would always bring it back up. It was a big deal for most of them.”

“Why’s that?” Sans set his case down on its edge and sat on it, careful not to tip it over.

“That would be the long version,” Gaster replied. “There’s a lot to it.”

“Like…?” Alphys prompted.

Did they really want to know more? Gaster worried about what they might think if he gave them all the details. Then again, these two were far different from anyone in his family. It wasn't likely that his friends would have the same mindset as they did.

He took a deep breath before starting. “For starters, having Blasters is something that runs in my dad’s side of the family. They’ve always been a source of family pride. It’s pretty rare, but once in a while someone ends up with them.”

“When I was little I would hear stories from my relatives about monsters who had the Gaster Blasters. Almost everyone who got them ended up in the Royal Guard or something similar. Back then, I loved hearing about them, and before my magic developed I wanted so badly to end up with the Blasters, too. When I passed the age most monster kids started using magic and still wasn’t able to do anything, I wanted them even more.”

“And then finally-“- Gaster threw his hands in the air - “The day came when I could use magic, and the first thing I conjure up is a pair of Blasters. Both my dad and I were pretty excited about it, but right after I told him, he sat me down and gave me a serious talk about how dangerous they could be. He told me that I had to be careful with them so I wouldn’t accidentally hurt someone. They have a mind of their own sometimes, so if you don’t know how to control them…”

He decided not to finish that thought. “And that’s when I realized what having the Blasters really meant. They weren’t just a cool magic attack anymore. They were weapons.” Gaster shifted uncomfortably. “The thought of actually having to hurt or even kill someone made me feel sick. If I went into anything like law enforcement or the Royal Guard, I knew I’d probably have to do that at some point, and that really upset me. One day I finally asked my dad if I would have to be in the Guard someday just because of my magic, and he said it was up to me. I could do whatever I wanted to, whether it involved the Blasters or not. And I was pretty happy with that.”

“But the rest of the family wasn’t too thrilled that I didn’t want to be a guard. They tried to bring it up all the time, but Dad would just shoot them down. I didn’t have to hear much about it for a long time.” Gaster sighed. “But after he died, pretty much all courtesy on the subject got thrown out the window. My mom and sister were still supportive of me, of course, but my relatives weren’t afraid to share their thoughts.”

His voice grew bitter. “Every time we had a gathering with them, at least one person would mention it. ‘Hey W.D., have you thought any more about enlisting into the King’s forces?’ ‘Come on, you’d do great in the Royal Guard!’ ‘How could you just waste a gift like that? Stop being selfish and think about the rest of monsterkind!’” He shook his head. “When I decided I wanted to go into the sciences, they became even more determined to change my mind. But I managed to hold my ground. After my dad first talked to me about the Blasters, I promised myself that I’d never use my attack on anybody – and I wanted to keep it that way.”

“But… what about today?” Alphys asked cautiously.

“Pfft, threatening someone with the Blasters is different than actually using them. I’ve summoned them a few times when going through the sketchy parts of the city and such. Just seeing them is enough to scare any troublemakers off.” For a second, he actually did feel proud to have them. “I was sure Undyne would do the same. Then when she didn’t, I kind of… panicked. It had never even crossed my mind to make a backup plan.” He looked away, embarrassed. He should have known better than to assume that someone who’d had fighting experience would turn tail and run.

“Look, the Blasters are a strong attack even without training. I don’t know how much damage mine could do to someone in one blast, but I know they have the potential to dust all kinds of monsters in one shot.” He looked at the floor. “If I wanted to, I could kill almost any monster in the Underground. Maybe even a human, if I really dedicated myself. It’s… kind of horrifying, honestly. I don’t like to think about it.”

An uncomfortable silence fell over the three of them. Gaster wondered if he’d given them too much information at once - or worse, that they felt the same way his relatives did.

Sans finally spoke up. “Geez, that’s some heavy stuff. I can see why Undyne aggravated you so much.”

Gaster released some of the tension he hadn’t even realized he was holding. “Yeah, everything she said was what everyone else told me about a hundred times. It brought up a lot of bad memories.”

“I bet,” Alphys said. “They all sound like a bunch of… well, jerks.”

“Well, some of them weren’t that bad about it.” Gaster shrugged. “But I hardly see them anymore, so if anyone still has a problem with it, at least I don’t have to hear their whining.”

He realized he did feel a little better now that he’d talked about his thoughts. It was even more reassuring knowing his friends were on his side. With a stretch, he stepped away from the wall. “Welp, I hope you guys enjoyed my tragic backstory.”

Alphys snorted. “Oh yeah, I loved it. Now we all know about each other’s tortured pasts, right?”

“Hey, we’re all still young. There’s still plenty of time for tragedy,” Sans said as he got up from his makeshift seat.

Gaster chuckled. “Wow, okay. That’s pretty dark.”

“What, I’m not allowed to do dark humor?”

“No, it’s just… weird, coming from you.”

“Hey, I’m more than just puns, you know.”

“Ah, of course. I just forgot in the deluge of wordplay you flood me and Alphys with every day.”

Somewhere in the city, a clock started chiming the hour. Alphys looked at her phone to confirm the time. “Oh geez, have we been standing here long? We need to get going again!”

“Alph, it’s only been like, 5 minutes.” Sans patted her shoulder. “We’re fine.”

“We should get moving again, though,” Gaster said. “If we take too long, someone might suspect we’re avoiding work altogether.” He grabbed the case sitting beside him.

They finally resumed walking, managing to remember the way they came in among the numerous passages of the castle. As they traveled, Sans slid over next to Alphys. “So,” he began. “About that fish-girl we just met – I bet you think she’d be a reel catch, huh?”

Alphys blushed. “Sans, I swear to god-“

“Hey, no need to be bassful about your new crush. Or are you still more interested in Asgore?”

Alphys got even redder, but the skeleton didn’t relent. “I think you have a chance with him, too. But first you goat to get his attention, be-fur someone else does.”

“Ugghhh!” Alphys shoved him away, making him snicker. “Gaster, can you get him to stop??”

Gaster smirked. “No, you kids need to settle this by yourselves.”

“Not you, too!”

He looked back at her quizzically. “What do you mean? I didn’t- ...oh, god.” He smacked his forehead. Kids. “Sans, stop corrupting me.”

“Whale, if you don’t like goat puns, I can go back to fish.” Sans caught up to Gaster. “My goat puns are kind of crappie anyways. So hey, any ideas on how Alphys can fin over Asgore or fish-girl? It’s fine if you need to mullet over for a bit. Personally, I think she should be honest about her eelings, but I trout she’d want to be that up front about it-“

“Sans,” Gaster said.

“Yeah?”

“Will you please shut up?”

#undertale #Sans #Gaster #Alphys #Undyne #inb4 several 'okay but in the game it says THIS' asks #I (probably) know and have an answer :v

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friedpotat0 · 4 years

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its funny because the people that should care about you dont, and the people that shouldnt be bothered to care about you just waste their time over you.

my parents dont know that i cry myself to sleep nearly every night, that i cry on the ride home, or that i wrote a suicide note and plan with full intention to kill myself before 2:30 on tuesday 10/29, they have no idea i think about my own death often or that i plan on killing myself before i turn 30, or how my body shakes every second of the day because everything is distracting or making me immensely nervous. they dont know im frustrated or irritated or that every little thing annoys the fuck out of me or how my paranoia is so bad i always perpetually feel like the entire world is against me, they dont know ive been seeing the counselor since high school and that the psychiatrist bluntly told me i have severe depression with bipolar 2 and prescribed me lamitrogine even though i really disagree with the diagnosis and wished they listened to my concerns about anxiety instead.

people dont know these things bc i dont tell them and i dont want anyone to worry about me. im pretty good at hiding things bc ive been dealing with bad thoughts my whole life. but relentlessly i choose to believe in optimism because i believe in Allah and he is slowly guiding me through this hellscape. i hate crying in front of people, and i especially dont like have any attention on me ever (unless im playing the guitar, then shut up). i dont like being selfish and self absorbed. and i hate dwelling on the past.

its funny when ur own family has absolutely no idea whats going on because when you did tell them, when u were 14, about the suicidal thoughts and anxiety, they yelled at you and called u attention seeking, so u never told them about the weight loss or the scars or the suicide attempts. its so funny that the people that should care about you dont, and really just prize you as a trophy rather than a human being with thoughts and feelings.

instead the counselor, my research supervisor, hell my fucking advisor has more concern over me than my own family and (certain) close “friends” ever will have in their lives. it means a lot to me that im finally getting some love and attention that ive always needed, but never realized it.

its funny how things get so distorted in your mind. you accomplish so much yet you feel like you did so little. i am so fatigued all the time, i already feel old, my skin is so dry and my body is so frail, my back aches endlessly, my lips are chapped and falling off, your feet always hurt, your hands are always cold, my mind is so worn. my nails are so brittle at this point and breaking at the edges. my skin is so fucked up id like to rip it off at this point.

its so weird to me i wrote a whole suicide plan and suicide note and released it with every intention that i will kill myself before the end of the week but yet i am still here, very much alive and (arguably) healthy. with full intention to finish this semester. why? what happened there? and yet i still find myself looking back at that plan constantly with tears running down my face. i have a lot of tears.

i wanted to kill myself since i was very very young. i remember when my mom would scream at me that she wishes i was dead and that i was her burden, nearly every day, and i would go to sleep crying praying to god he would kill me in my sleep. i would suffocate myself when i was 6 just to try to end it all. i barely had any friends growing up and if i did i saw them briefly in school or once every three months at some gathering. rarely did i leave the house or ever get involved in the community, except for the sports my dad would force me into. i had little social interaction, and not many adults in my life to look up to other than my mom. i never felt like her daughter, i felt like i was some sister of hers. i never had a loving maternal figure in my life, save for a few teachers i have had, god bless them. now she only loves me because i can do things for her. when she hit me she didnt love me. when she screamed at me every day she didnt love me. when she told me to kill myself she didnt do that out of love. she doeesnt remember any of these things and claimed i made it up. i feel like im in hell. she had a hard life, to be fair...but i would raise my daughter differently. i would prefer to stay away from the word “burden” when referring to my children.

i have a good life and ill never dispute that ever. i was born with a lot of privilege. so why am i like this? who knows. you feel like your whole life was stolen from you and that you missed so many oppurtunities that you could have taken but every bone in your body screamed “no”. its bittersweet knowing that i am finally getting help but where was this help 6 years ago? how much more could i have accomplished if i had people in my life supporting me? and that i only receive this support recently? i only had two adult figures in my life and they were both my parents, my mom being very emotianally abusive and self centered with the maturity of a 6 year old, and my distant father who barely made any effort to listen to me, both who denies any sign of mental illness or health defects of any sort when the signs were clear.

why are my parents so concerned about my marriage when they should really be concerned about me?

I feel so emotionally stunted, as if i am still 15 years old, becasuse i am finally allowed to leave my damn house. what a life i have lived, so uneventful. never allowed to leave or wear what you want, say what you want, do what you want, because you are a muslim girl. fun is banned in islam, and in my family, apparently. no sense of humor, style, color, everything is so bland and monotonous it makes you want to scream. no passion, no motivation, just the same robotic shit for 20 years. why would i want to live a life like this i ask myself? for the rest of my fucking life? id rather die. at least in hell i can do what i want.

i hate being in my skin. sometimes i hate being in my body too. i am forced to wear mutliple layers of thick makeup every single fucking day for 12-16 hours straight because my skin is that fucking terrible and ugly. i cant imagine being naturally beatiful and having clear skin and then boasting about it, on top of that. its so infuriating. i am so ugly. no one can convince me otherwise. i feel so trapped so trapped no one even knows. no one will ever really understand. i dont expect them to. i want to do so much but i can only do so little. im too frail and weak to do anything. im always so tired, and sad, to make things worse. i wish i had so much potential but i dont. im dead already on the inside, like a rotted tree. what hope is there left.

sometimes i want to leave my hometown without telling anyone and never come back. that would be fun. then i can finally have the freedom i want and the ability to actually explore my life like i should. then i can finally choose my own path to the future. but i am confined in my own mind, in my own house, in my own family, in my own city. fuck this.

now i look ahead to a hopefully brighter future. progress and healing is very slow and gradual. the only growth i should focus on is myself. for the sake of myself. and for the sake of God. i will make it i have to keep saying it, speak it into existence, because if i dont, ill wither away.

#personal #definitely deleting this later #please dont message me or contact me im fine #i just needed to rant #people dont rlly know the tea #im not shading anyone just upset that things r this way

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sebsmetal-arm · 5 years

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So... for some reason I never posted chapter 4 of Medicine on here... honestly don’t know how I managed that one. That being said, if you have not read any of this please go to Chapter 1 and start there. Otherwise, enjoy chapter 4! :)

If you want to read on Wattpad, click here. Otherwise, keep scrolling!

After a couple days of texting back and forth and getting lost in conversation, Grace and Bucky finally found a date that worked for them both. It wouldn’t be for a couple of weeks due to his limited ability from work, but Grace was thankful that it would at least leave her time to mentally prepare, maybe go shopping for a new outfit. Bucky offered to come up with a plan for the evening so at least she wouldn’t have that to worry about.

To her surprise one of her Thursday classes ended up being canceled, leaving her the rest of the day off. She decided to take that opportunity to go shopping, leaving the building of her previous class and heading off to peruse some clothing stores in Soho. It was a rather brisk day and there were less people roaming the streets than usual, luckily for her. When she finally reached the Soho area she began casually window shopping, not entirely expecting to find something right away.

She was intrigued by the fourth store front she peered into and decided to check it out. The interior was bright, with white walls, sand colored wood floors, and indie music playing over the speaker system. Well aware that it was possibly too trendy for her wallet to handle, she scoured over the clothes apprehensively until one of the store clerks approached her.

“Hi ma’am, is there anything I can help you with today?” the girl asked. She appeared to be around the same age as Grace, her vibrant red hair in a bun atop her head and a smattering of freckles on her face bringing attention to her stunning blue eyes. Her wardrobe was similar to the clothes Grace had seen thus far, appropriately so, and she had a septum piercing along with every ear piercing possible.

“No, thank you, I’m just looking around.” Grace replied, cordially but shakily.

“Okay, well if you need any help don’t hesitate to ask.” She said, sympathy in her eyes. She turned around to leave but Grace gave in to her internal war and spoke up.

“Actually… I might need some help. I’m going on a date soon and…” Grace trailed off, the clerk interjecting and finishing her sentence.

“And you need the perfect outfit?” She asked, smiling with sincerity. Grace nodded, letting out a shaky laugh. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you. Come with me, I can set you up with a dressing room.” She signaled, walking towards the back of the room. The clerk, whose name she had learned was Marissa, confirmed Grace’s size and set out to gather some items for her to try on. Grace was surprised, and slightly overwhelmed, when she returned with a giant arm-full of options.

“Now, I didn’t know if you were looking for a casual or more dressy outfit so I got you some of both. Once you try each one on, come out and let me see. It’s always helpful to have a second pair of eyes.” she said with a smile before ushering Grace back into the dressing room.

Most of the outfits were a definite no despite Marissa’s excitement at how good they apparently looked on Grace. There was one outfit though that intrigued her and when she put it on and looked at herself in the mirror, her jaw dropped in surprise at how good she felt about her reflection. Marissa had picked a pair of leather pants that fit Grace’s figure surprisingly well, snugly enough to be sexy but not draw too much attention. She had paired those with a wine red, cold shoulder shirt with black, lace trimming around the neckline. When Grace stepped out of the dressing room her feelings were backed up by Marissa’s gasp and subsequent fawning over how it looked on her. In addition she knew she had a relaxed, black blazer at home that would go perfectly over the shirt. She would definitely need it since it was getting so much colder.

Grace changed back into her clothes and gathered her new outfit, not even bothering to try on anything else. On the way to the register a pair of shoes caught her eye, practically taking her breath away. Marissa stopped behind her, noticing what had caught her eye.

“Do you think those would go with my outfit?” Grace asked almost in awe.

“Yes, that’s a definite yes.” Marissa agreed, nodding her head enthusiastically. “We must have just gotten those in and if you don’t buy them, I will.” she said, making Grace laugh.

Grace cringed at the price tag on the shoes and nearly had a heart attack when the total popped up on the register, but she reminded herself it was well worth it. She walked out of the store feeling happier than ever, an amazing new outfit in hand. Now all she had to do was make it through the next few weeks.

Though that happiness didn’t last long much to her chagrin when she felt her phone vibrate in her pocket, looking at the caller ID. With a scowl she answered her phone, her voice monotone and somewhat emotionless.

“Hello mother.” she said, her previously wonderful mood completely dampened.

“What kind of tone is that?” Cheryl snapped, making Grace roll her eyes. “How is school going?” she asked uninterestedly, always quick to talk business.

“It’s going good I guess” she responded dryly.

“Well. It’s going well, and obviously not if you still don’t understand basic grammar Grace.” Cheryl said snidely, her voice dripping with condescension.

Grace was 2 seconds away from breaking her phone in half and punching the nearest wall, but a gaggle of children was headed in her direction so she restrained herself, for their sake.

“Are you staying busy? You shouldn’t be keeping yourself cooped up in the apartment with Tina-“

“It’s Tori, her name is Tori.” she corrected, getting more frustrated by the second.

“Whatever, I never liked the girl anyway.” she said in her snarky tone. “Maybe you should consider getting a job, a respectable one of course and-“

“I already have a job… although I’m sure it’s not good enough for your standards.” she spat back, her mother completely oblivious to the fact that she had been working part-time at a book store for the past two years.

“You need to lose the attitude, Grace.” Cheryl said angrily. “How do you expect to find a man with an ugly attitude like that?” she said, Grace suddenly reaching her breaking point.

“I’ll have you know I actually have a date in a few weeks! Not that it would matter to you!” Grace half-screamed, her face reddening in embarrassment seeing some concerned onlookers.

“Mhmm.” Her mother replied, clearly unamused. “What does he do for a living?” she asked, Grace groaning at the question she knew would inevitably come.

“He’s in the military,” she replied shortly. There was a moment of silence on the other end of line, Cheryl undoubtedly forming some bitchy response. Now leaned against the wall of a building in Soho, Grace began tapping her foot impatiently, waiting for the coin to drop and her mother to make some remark about it not being good enough or-

“I suppose that’s acceptable.” Cheryl said in defeat. Grace’s tapping foot came to a halt and she had to pinch herself to make sure she wasn’t dreaming. Her mother actually approved of something? She must be dreaming, she had to be.

“Sorry, I must be imagining things, did you actually just approve of something in my life?” Grace asked sarcastically.

“Granted, if anything comes of it you’re guaranteed to live a fairly lonely life if he’s away a lot, but at least you could live a stable life.” Cheryl said, ignoring Grace’s question, “Especially if you can’t find a job with your line of work, you don’t want to end up being some starving musician living on the streets. Why didn’t you listen to me and do something useful.”

“Mother, I’m not having this conversation with you again. This is my life and I will do with it what I please.” Grace said through gritted teeth.

“So be it.” She said dryly. “Like I’ve said before, don’t come crawling back to me when you’re poor and homeless.” Grace’s face was red with anger, her emotions getting the better of her. She wiped a stray tear from her cheek with her shirt sleeve. “So will I get to meet him?” Cheryl asked, Grace choking out a laugh.

“You’ve got to be kidding me. You’re actually kidding right?” Grace scoffed. “I know you like to pretend we have a relationship, but we don’t. I haven’t seen you in over four years and every time you call you spend most of the conversation tearing apart everything I say or do. So no, mother, I wouldn’t count on it.” she spat.

“You really should think twice about treating your own mother this way, you know, the one that raised you?” Grace laughed at the irony of Cheryl’s words.

“Yeah, and look how that turned out.” Grace said, now fighting fire with fire. “I’m sure you think I’m being a bitch, but I guess it takes one to know one.” Her mother scoffed, appalled at her daughter’s choice words.

“How dare you.” Cheryl finally spoke. Her mother’s generally passive temper had turned into rage, seething just under the surface of her cold demeanor. Grace thought she was about to say something else but the line suddenly went dead.

Grace shook her head and shoved her phone back into her purse, letting out a breath she didn’t know she had been holding. Heading in the direction of her apartment she couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. For once she had been able to really, truly stand up to her mother. Most of the time she would just tolerate the ridicule, not wanting to aggravate the situation, but she was proud of herself for not backing down and just taking the undeserved abuse.

* * * Stepping in to her apartment, Grace dropped her keys in the basket by the door and called out, “Tori? You home?”

She heard a loud thump and Tori’s voice call out, “I’ll be there in a second!”

Grace set her purchases down on the kitchen table and decided to put a pot of water on to boil. She was busying herself with the tea bags when she heard the creak of a door from the other end of the apartment followed by the padding of feet down the hallway before Tori’s head poked around the corner, Grace’s back still turned to her.

“Grace, hey… what are you doing home?” Tori asked, something odd in the tone of her voice.

“My last class got canceled and I decided to go shopping for, you know, the date and- oh my God!” Grace had turned around, her eyes finally landing on Tori standing there in nothing but a thin bed sheet, “Did I, uh… interrupt something?” Grace asked, giggling. Tori’s face was flushed and her usually smooth, sheen hair was a mussed and tangled bird’s nest.

“Steve’s here.” She blushed, leaning against the wall.

Grace bit her lip to stifle a laugh, amused at her best friend’s utter infatuation. “I’m assuming he got leave again?” Grace asked, Tori nodding in response.

“Yeah, well, sort of. He had some appointments nearby and decided to drop by. I’m sorry, I figured you would be at class.” She said in slight embarrassment.

“No!” Grace threw her hands up reassuringly. “No it’s totally okay! Really, I’m happy for you.” She said, smiling. “Besides, it’s about time you got laid. Regularly, that is.” She joked, both of them laughing.

They both sighed, Tori tugging the sheets tighter around her body, “So, you were saying?” Tori asked, handing the floor back to Grace.

“Oh! Yeah, I went shopping in Soho and found this amazing outfit!” she said elatedly. The pot on the stove whistled and Grace poured herself a mug, setting it aside to steep. “I was actually really surprised how good I felt.”

“Ooh new clothes!” Tori said, clapping her hands together excitedly. “Are you going to show them to me?”

“Yeah, of course! I want your opinion on something anyway.” She said, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

“Okay just, uh, let me go get dressed.” She nodded towards her room, laughing.

Once Grace had had her fill of tea and figured Tori and Steve were decent she threw the outfit on and knocked on the bedroom door.

“Come in!” Tori shouted. Grace entered the room and was immediately met with a chorus of ‘whoa’ and ‘oh my God, you look hot!’ making her turn almost the color of her shirt. “You. Look. Amazing! Are those leather pants?” Tori asked, in disbelief.

“Yeah… definitely something I never would’ve picked out on my own.” She laughed. “Luckily one of the store clerks was very helpful.”

“Well, go on, give us a spin!” Tori exclaimed, gesturing in the air with her finger. Grace did as requested and slowly spun around for them to see. “I don’t think I’ve ever said this before but I am jealous of your ass. I mean look at that!” She said, smacking Steve’s shoulder with a ‘thwap’.

“Believe me, I’m looking…” Steve said, his face flushing. Tori smacked him again, a little harder that time, all of them bursting out in laughter. Tori hopped off of her bed and began showcasing Grace like Will Smith and his wife on the red carpet, “Okay Steve, for the important question. What will Bucky think of her outfit?” She asked, waggling her eyebrows, making Grace laugh at her ridiculous behavior.

“Oh, this is for Bucky?” Grace nodded. “Well, I can tell you for a fact that seeing you for the first time in this,” Steve gestured up and down Grace’s outfit, “will send him to his grave. Especially those shoes.” He said, pointing at her heels.

“The shoes?”

“Yeah, he’s got a… thing for heels.” He said implicitly.

“Aw, I’ve got a thing for heels, too.” Tori whined, turning to her friend with puppy dog eyes.

“I already know you’re going to ask, and yes you can borrow them… after the date!” Grace added, Tori hopping with glee.

“Good because those heels,” Tori pointed to them, awestruck, “those are the kind of heels you start wars over.” She gushed, making Grace cackle. She wasn’t wrong though in her level of admiration, the shoes were absolutely to die for. The wine red suede perfectly complimented her shirt and the platform pump transformed her from short and sweet to a towering temptress. The shape of the shoe, along with the thick Mary Jane-style strap, deliciously framed her otherwise average feet.

“Yeah, I’m pretty sure you’re thinking of Helen of Troy, but… close enough.” Grace said, patting Tori’s shoulder in mockery.

“Well then call me Paris, because I would fight tooth and nail for those beauties!” Tori said, sitting back down on her bed with a humph. Steve leaned over and kissed her shoulder sweetly before pushing off the bed with a sigh.

“Alright ladies, unfortunately I’ve got to go. It’s getting late and I need to get back to the fort before rush hour.” he said defeatedly. Tori pouted her lip for a moment before accepting his departure and headed for the door. She had already made it halfway down the hallway but Steve stopped short next Grace, turning to her.

“If I don’t see you before the big day, good luck. I know he’s excited… hasn’t shut up about you actually.” He said with a laugh, sending a warm flutter through her stomach at the thought. “I can tell you one thing is for sure, he won’t know what’s hit him.” Steve winked, and with that, exited Tori’s room leaving Grace to mull over her now wracked emotions.

* * * Grace checked the time on her phone for the millionth time that class period. It had only been two minutes since the last time she checked. Her knee was shaking incessantly under the desk as her Charlie Brown voiced teacher droned on and on about whatever topic she couldn’t give a damn about that day. She checked her phone again, internally screaming when only another minute had passed by.

Today was officially the day and her nerves were at full force, absolutely body slamming her to the ground. Every lecture thus far had been a blur for her, only able to pay attention to the announcement of homework assignments. Unless of course they had been mentioned at dismissal, in which case she was already halfway down the hallway to her next class. She was on autopilot, her mind everywhere but the present, especially now with it being her final lecture for the day.

When she finally heard the words ‘class dismissed’ she couldn’t pack up her things quick enough. Her feet carried her down the hallway, out of the building, and all the way to her apartment before her mind was able to switch somewhat back to manual. Ascending the stairs quickly she let herself in the apartment and sped past the kitchen where Tori was cooking, heading straight for her bedroom.

“Hey how was class?” Tori asked, watching Grace stream by her in a blur.

“Good.” she replied in monotone. When Tori heard the slam of a bag hitting the floor, the world’s longest, most weary sigh, and the abrupt creak of a bed, she made a beeline for Grace’s bedroom.

“Alright, what’s wrong, let it out.” Tori asked, plopping into the desk chair opposite Grace’s bed where she lay face first. Grace spoke a string of words but they were muffled by the bed sheets. “Okay, Grace honey, you need to take your face out of the covers so I can understand you.”

Grace lifted her head enough to speak. “I am so fucking nervous about tonight.” She said with a groan, her head promptly falling back to the covers. Tori stifled a chuckle.

“I mean I understand that but, are you excited at all?” Tori asked.

Grace sighed, crossing her arms in front of her and resting her chin on them. “Of course I’m excited! I don’t think I’ve ever been more excited for something, but… I’m also scared shitless.”

“What are you so scared about?” Tori asked, helping Grace to work through her worries.

“Well, for one, he’s amazing and I’m, well… me.” Tori sighed and leaned back in her chair. “And I know we’ve been texting non-stop and obviously I spent time with him on our double date, but those were easy! This time it’s just me and him, no other couple to bounce off of or phone to act as a social barrier.” Tori shook her head, chuckling a bit. “I’m just worried I’ll do or say something grossly awkward and scare him off, okay?” Grace said defensively, “You know me, you know how paranoid I get! I really, really like him so far and I just want to make a good impression…” Grace groaned.

“You two have already met so technically-“

“Whatever! You know what I mean!” Grace cut Tori off, throwing a pillow at her head.

“Alright alright, no need to be violent!” Tori laughed, throwing it back at Grace. “Seriously though, he obviously likes you! I don’t think you have any reason to worry, just take a deep breath. I know you can do this. You deserve this.” Tori said wholeheartedly.

After a moment of silence Tori sat up. “Are you feeling any better about it all?” She asked, trying to gauge her best friend.

Grace exhaled and nodded. “Yeah… yeah I think I am.” She said quietly. “Thanks. I seriously don’t know what I would do without you.” Grace smiled, Tori returning it.

“Oh I don’t know, melt into a puddle of paranoia and existential crises?” She proposed, making them both laugh and lightening the mood. Tori checked the time on her watch. “What time is he going to be here?”

“7:00.”

“Oh you need to get moving!” Tori stood up, ushering Grace towards the bathroom. “Go get in the shower. Let me know once your hair is done and you’re dressed. I’ll help you with your makeup.”

“Alright, I’m going mom!” Grace chided playfully. “Also, how’d you know I was going to ask for help with makeup!”

“I don’t know, I’m omniscient, now go!” Tori exclaimed sarcastically, physically shoving Grace into the bathroom.

An hour and a half later Grace sat patiently at Tori’s vanity, letting her work her magic. Her hair was blown out as perfectly as she could manage and she was sporting her new outfit, including the blazer that ended up matching exquisitely with the rest. Tori put the finishing touches on her face.

“Alright, I’m done.” Tori said, pulling away and capping her products. Grace stood from the chair and checked herself in the mirror, her jaw dropping at the woman in the reflection. It was still her, but there was no mistaking the boost of confidence she got from seeing this version of herself.

“You ready?” Tori asked, smoothing out the blazer and picking a couple stray pieces of lint from the black material.

“Yeah, I think so…” Grace said, taking an intentional deep breath and exhaling slowly. A sudden sharp knock at the door made her breath catch in her throat and all of her nerves came flooding back. She quickly reigned them in, vowing not to let her anxiety get the best of her, not tonight. She looked at Tori, eyes wide and hands slightly trembling.

Tori placed her hands on Grace’s shoulders giving them a firm, friendly squeeze. “It’s time.” She said warmly, pulling her into a hug.

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