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ice-cap-k · 7 months

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Heads Will Roll CH 3

Read CH 4 here

Read CH2 here

Read CH1 here

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Scar’s boot heels clicked with every step against the polished marble floor. This castle was amazing! He still couldn’t believe his recent stroke of luck. An entire city, all for him. A Kingdom, even! Complete with a castle and a crown and gold… Well, probably gold. He had yet to see what silly King Ren had in his vaults, but all in good time.

So what if the place was crawling with humans? Humans were fun! So full of vigor and creativity! A little fragile, perhaps, but he could work with that. There were plenty of them for him to play with. He could afford to break one or two after things had settled down.

The corridor ended abruptly with a pair of matching spruce doors twice his height. He threw them open to greet the pale dawn. Two armored soldiers stood waiting outside. They stepped in line behind him.

“How was your stay in the castle, sir,” one of them asked. He did not bother to see which one. Instead, he shielded his eyes and looked up at the sky blanketed in overcast grey.

“Amazing,” Scar said, putting as much sincerity and pep in his voice as possible. He meant it too. “Simply amazing. The architecture, the attention to detail, the materials! It’s been a long time since I’ve seen something so masterfully made. Truly, whoever built this place has an eye for detail.”

“The King had it renovated when he inherited the crown,” the other soldier spoke up. Scar found her familiar. Perhaps one of the guards from the other day. She looked misty-eyed as her gaze passed over the building’s ornate spires and buttresses. “He had personally helped with some of the masonry, but the blueprints were all his own.” She let out a sigh, and it dawned on Scar that she was growing sad. Oh, no no no. That would not do. Sadness would mean regret, and he couldn’t have them regretting a change that hadn’t happened yet.

So the vex flexed the magic in his invisible wings, twisting the perception of the guard and, deciding it was best to play things safe, the other standing quietly behind her. Just in case.

“In hindsight, we’re lucky he didn’t make it a death trap,” the guard behind her spoke up.

The other nodded her head. Her voice hardened with a noticeable edge. “I can’t believe I was foolish enough to think I was doing some good as his guard for all these years.”

Scar let one hand press against the back of her shoulder. The familiar purplish black sheen of enchanted netherite buzzed against his fingers, less pronounced than the poisonous burn of iron, and warmer than the chill of chiseled diamond. “There was no way to know. Besides! After today, you won’t have to worry about it anymore, right?”

“Right.” Both soldiers nodded once in unison.

“So, how about that courtyard? Is everything set up for today's main event?”

“You mean the town square?” she corrected gently.

“Yes! That." Scar wanted to smile but kept himself composed.

Humans were easy to control. They balked at their own shadows and were easily swayed like the branches of a willow in a lakeside breeze. They flock like sheep, running from any perceived threat. They rushed headlong towards the first inkling of protection they could find. Having no magic of their own made them blind in the face of glamor. He would pity them, if it wasn’t for the sheer convenience their deficiency provided him and, to some extent, that Ren fella.

As a vex, he had magic on his side. His glamor kept him safe outside of the fae territories, and his ability to exercise it at will meant other people were more than happy to provide him the life he wanted. A privilege he learned long ago that would never be available back at his old home amidst his own kind. And what he decided he wanted as he passed by this latest, greatest, sleepy little cesspool of humanity, was grandeur.

As they led Scar through the castle gardens to the carriage waiting at the edge of the winding tiled path, he marveled at his surroundings. The landscaper had managed to keep the early spring melt from turning the flower beds into muck. The first few buds of daffodils and tulip leaves were bright green in the morning chill. Carefully tended vines and shrubs lined gravel pathways that branched off out of sight. Marble statues stood in stark white contrast amidst green topiary and brown branches.

The most surprising thing, though, was that the person behind the design of this haven had found ways of working carrots into the layout. They dotted the ground in decorative sprays of green amidst the rose bushes, which were still a little too brown despite their forming leaf buds. Carrots! Fully grown and leafy in spring. He sensed no magic traces on them. They were there through pure gardening genius, and most likely hard work.

“Your carriage, sir.” In his admiration, Scar hadn’t noticed that they had reached the gate at the front of the property. White horses lined up in a row tossing their heads impatiently at the head of a gleaming carriage. One of the soldiers was already holding open its door for him.

Scar made no attempt to hide this grin. “Don’t mind if I do.”

The door clicked closed behind him as he settled back into velvet seats. The lacquered interior shone, even in the scant morning sun. It was all smoothly sanded and polished surfaces, lined in luxurious leather and fabrics. There was even a cup holder!

The chassis shook slightly, and he could see the armored guards climbing into place at the back through a little curtained window. There was a snap of the whip, a muted jerk as the horses were set into motion, and then they were off. And all Scar had to do to get where he needed to go was sit in the lap of luxury. He could get used to this.

He had that silly little band of humans to thank for this. The ones he had met at the remains of the tower he had knocked down with the full intention of remaking it to his standards. Standards that were clearly higher than whoever had designed that ugly thing in the first place. It was basic. Plain. Simple. It wouldn’t even work as a blank slate, but its materials would be useful. There was already enough there to make a finer tower. That’s what it had originally been after all. A tower. And he needed a high place to live where he could take off from great heights.

It had seemingly been a fine location to finally settle down after leaving home for the human realm. There were people conveniently nearby for him to take full advantage of, to charm, and to toy with. And the cows at the nearby farm… They made for a fun little game of target practice.

But when those two officials came poking around the build site for his new home, he was intrigued. And when that blond fella first mentioned a castle, Scar’s intended project immediately went forgotten. He simply had to see for himself. And once he saw for himself, he liked what he saw. And when he saw that the man in charge of it all, when he looked through the beast’s own charade that was fit to collapse at the first little prod… Oh BABY the plan practically laid itself out in front of him.

Then there were the humans.

Sure, Vex tended to be a part of the Unseelie Court, the ridiculously large grouping of various fae species who hated humans. They hosted hunts to strike fear into the hearts of humankind, haunted the woods outside bustling civilizations, goodness, even kidnapped babies from their cribs!

But not Scar. Scar never really cared for the Court. He certainly never participated in their affairs, and they didn’t exactly have an issue with Scar leaving. So much hatred was misplaced into a species that he felt could be much better utilized. And now was his chance to prove it! After today, he’d have this place all to himself. King Ren might as well have been keeping the seat warm for him. And once he was gone, Scar would take good care of the humans left behind.

It wasn’t anything personal. Scar didn’t even know the guy. What kind of monster knowingly lived among humans without the protection of glamor anyway? Especially humans who clearly wouldn’t hesitate to kill any monster they came across? The King wasn’t fae. He didn’t have that magic. His people would have found him out eventually, even if Scar had not intervened. If throwing some random stranger under fire was all it took to get everything he ever wanted, Scar wasn’t about to feel bad about it. It’s not like he was supposed to feel any sort of kinship towards the guy just because he was a monster.

Really, Scar was just bringing about the inevitable.

Maybe, and that’s a really unlikely maybe at that if Scar had looked past Ren’s wards and seen a vex instead of a beast, he might have thought twice. But while vex are fae and fae are considered monsters, monsters aren’t fae.

So Scar didn’t worry about it. Rather, he looked forward to it. It would be a grand event where all the people would gather to watch. A spectacle worth seeing.

Today’s execution was just the first step. He already had his voice in many an important ear at the castle thanks to last night. With a little bit of magic, convincing the higher-ups that he would make a fine stand-in for the king would be a breeze.

He propped up his cheek against his hand so he could stare out the window. He mused to himself as the countryside passed by and the number of homes lining the street became more numerous. It was a nice enough town. It could use a few touch-ups here and there, but it was a great starting point.

“Not much longer now…”

___________________________________________________________________

Ren could practically feel the seconds ticking away as the footsteps approached. His jailors had come for him.

The disgraced king was half tempted to start counting his heartbeats, for surely they were numbered. Martyn hadn’t come back last night. Ren should know. He never fell back asleep. Couldn’t. The stress had been too much to handle. He had no idea if his Hand had managed to figure out Scar’s true nature for himself.

Whether Martyn had figured it out or not didn’t seem to have much bearing on the situation at hand. The guards who appeared outside the bars of Ren’s cell still looked at him with loathing in their eyes. Unlike yesterday when his friends had frozen up and gone vacant, these guards appeared to be fully aware of themselves and their surroundings. There was no spell swaying them. The hate was real.

Ren gripped at the chains hanging from his wrists. “Well hey, fellas!” He plastered on a false smile and tried to tone down the shaking that was making its way into his voice. “Aren’t you up nice and early?”

“It’s morning. You know the law, your highness. Why not make it easy for all of us and come quietly?” One of them slipped the key into the lock on the door. The heavy metal grated against the floor as the space between the bars swung open. “Or do we have to do this the hard way?”

“I, uh, don’t suppose I can change your mind?”

Two of the guards gave each other a knowing look. They nodded, and then one of them reached for the chain hooked into the loop by the door.

Ren had to stumble forward to keep from getting his feet swept out from under him. The guard wrapped the chain around their arm, link by link, gradually shortening the tether bound to the King’s feet. The metal cuffs chaffed painfully against his ankles with every yank.

Words came tumbling out of Ren’s mouth as they pulled him closer and closer. “Okay, fine. I understand I can’t change your mind about me. But listen to me, that Scar dude is dangerous. He’s a monster! A fae even, with wings and everything. I swear. You can’t just leave him running around or a lot of people are going to get hurt. Someone has to catch him before things get nasty!”

One of the guards rolled their eyes. “As if. You’re just saying that to buy yourself some time.”

“I’m really not-”

“Quiet!” The one holding Ren’s chain gave it a good shake. The metal snapped like a rope, painfully clipping the king’s shins. The pain came so quickly and suddenly that he dropped to one knee. He sucked in breath through his teeth to keep from crying out. “A monster like you won’t fool us any longer. You!” He turned and motioned towards a third guard. “Go get us something to gag him with.”

Armor clanked as they ran off. Ren took deep breaths, trying to ignore the stinging in his leg now layered on top of the bruising from last night. “I’m not lying,” he spat, standing back up. They tried to pull him forward again, but this time he dug his heels in. “Mark my words, that man will ruin the lot of you once I’m gone.”

“Then you should have nothing to worry about,” the guard said coldly. “After all, you said it yourself. You’ll be gone.”

A wave of goosebumps ran down Ren’s arms. Hearing it come out of the other man’s mouth like that didn’t make it any more pleasant. So he stopped trying to argue. The guards weren’t listening to him anyway.

They pulled him stumbling to the door. When he came close, one guard held a spear tip out threateningly while the other unclipped the chain connecting the shackles around his ankles to the wall. It was mostly a precaution to make sure he didn’t try anything risky like lash out at them. Or run. Not that he would dare. He was too busy trying to keep his own heart rate under control. He counted the seconds as he took a deep breath in, then a deep breath out. Deep breath in. Deep breath out. If the guards noticed, they made no comment about it.

They left the fetters on his wrists and legs. The short chain connecting wrist to wrist and ankle to ankle remained, but at least now he wasn’t directly tied to the wall.

The other guard came back with a rag. Ren curled his lip at the sight. “Is this really necessary?”

“Are you going to keep trying to talk to us?”

“I suppose I could hold my tongue…”

“Well then…” The guard who brought the shred of cloth rolled it up and went to tuck it away into a pocket.

“Wait!” Another guard grabbed their arm before they could fully put it away. His eyes were darting back and forth between the king and his comrades. “We should gag him anyway. I don’t trust myself if he were to try and talk his way out of it.”

Ren snorted. “Hate to break it to you, dude, but not all monsters work that way. I don’t have that kind of power over anyone.”

They shook their heads. Their voice wavered as they spoke once more, eyes gluing themselves to the floor. “You do. But not as a monster. As our King.”

The two other guards shuffled awkwardly at that. One nearly growled his displeasure at the younger man’s words. The other simply brought a gauntleted hand up to rub at the back of their head.

Ren, however, felt his gut twist. To think that this man might still consider him a King…

He didn’t like it, but he held his ground and didn’t flinch as they wrapped the cloth tight over the bottom half of his face. The wound-up fabric presses his lips uncomfortably against his teeth. And when they tied a rope around the bindings on his wrists to lead him out of the dungeon at a safe distance, he kept pace without argument.

They strode past the staff who had worked for him for years. They watched with eyes widened with confusion and surprise. Some glared at him with disapproval. A few spared him a bow, despite how filthy he was from a night in the dungeon and the lack of a crown on his head. When they did, it finally dawned on Ren that some of these people still had respect for him. Not just the young guard. The cooks, the cleaning maids, the gardeners who tended to the grounds, amongst each of them were a handful of people who almost looked sad to see him go. Those that had pity in their eyes for the tied-up king being led away in chains.

So Ren straightened his spine, rolled back his shoulders, and went forward with his chin up. He couldn’t have them pitying him. To them, he was the King they had once admired.

The guards walked him out the front doors of the castle. He could feel the eyes of his staff burning into his back as they left his old home behind. His friends hadn’t been among them; they weren’t there to see him on his death march. There was no Martyn. No Skizz, Etho, or BigB. They were probably already at the town square, where the execution block would surely be set up by now. Them, and more than half of the kingdom of Dogwarts.

These guards would be walking him through town like this, bound and at spearpoint. He would be the last one to arrive at his own party. They had to give the rest of the guests time to get there first and find a good place to watch the show.

Ren’s heartbeat had been going at an impressive rate when they had first left the dungeon, but now that he was left to his own thoughts, unable to speak, trudging down the open road with another handful of guards that had come to surround him, he found himself growing… Well, calm wasn’t the right word for it. He wasn’t calm. He was still terrified. But it was a little less daunting at the very least.

It gave him time to think and reflect. He was trying to focus on the good things. He didn’t regret his life as King as he had led it. Dogwarts prospered. His friends were amazing, and he hoped what little he had been able to give them had made their lives a little better. They would go on with their own futures without him. And sure, that Scar was a problem, but at least he had managed to tell Martyn last night about the vex in men’s clothing. If there was anyone Ren could count on, it would be his Hand. Martyn would do everything in his power to take care of the problem, even after Ren was gone.

Other guards were sparing him glances, or avoiding looking at him entirely. Plenty still had that look of anger and hatred burning in their eyes, but for those who didn’t, Ren pushed forward with his head held high.

One last time playing a role. Masking his real worries with false confidence. If this was to be his last performance as the strong King he portrayed to the people of Dogworts, then he would do it justice.

It wasn’t like he had much longer to pull it off.

______________________________________________________________

“Where on Earth is Etho?!? We’re running out of time?”

“I don’t know,” BigB fretted, his fingers practically winding knots out of themselves as he fidgeted. “I couldn‘t find him at his place and Skizz ran back to the castle to check there.”

Martyn gnawed on the inside of his cheek. He was just as nervous as BigB was, but he had to keep it together. “Well we better hope he finds him, or he gets back quick. If Etho isn’t around for us to tell him, then we’re just going to have to do this without him.”

They were standing on the outskirts of a growing crowd in Town Square. People were packed shoulder to shoulder in front of the temporary wooden stage set up in front of Dogwart’s local courthouse. They chattered like a flock of starlings about the King, how he had kept such a big secret for so long, what would become of the kingdom after tonight, and who would be next in line for the throne. Rumors developed, thrived, and then withered on the grapevine of people spreading thoughts and opinions en masse.

There was only so much room available in the large brick square. Tall two to three-story shops and businesses pressed up against all sides. Overhanging lookout bridges used by guards on nightly watches hung over the streets. Their sturdy cobblestone arches and spruce trusses held plenty more onlookers hoping to get a bird's eye view of the scene below.

It was at the base of the staircase to one of these towers that Martyn and BigB were nervously watching the road leading back to the castle. BigB kept looking over the crowd, just visible through the alley. It was making Martyn more and more nervous.

Finally, he decided he couldn’t sit still anymore. He pulled away from BigB, heading for the crowded alley. “Oh, sod it. I’m going to go looking through the crowds again. Maybe I’ll get lucky and find him.”

BigB whipped around in surprise. “You’re leaving?! What about Skizz?”

“I’ll be back.” Martyn waved him off. “I’m going to have a quick nosy around the square. You stay here and wait for Skizz. If he’s back with Etho by the time I come back, then we’ll go over the plan one more time.”

“And if Etho’s not with him?”

Good question. “We’ll… we’ll figure something out,” Martyn finally managed, fumbling over the words. Before BigB could ask him anymore, Martyn pivoted on the ball of his foot and shoved his way into the crowd.

There were a lot of people here. Navigating wasn’t easy, and more than once Martyn had to strong-arm his way past someone. “Excuse me. Pardon me. Coming through.” The whole time he went, he kept an eye out for a telltale shock of white hair.

Etho wouldn’t actually miss this, would he? Martyn realized that his friend was upset about yesterday’s revelation, but they hadn’t seen him since he walked out of that lounge. BigB had just come from Etho’s home, and they hadn't found him sulking around the castle last night after they came from Scar’s room. But was he actually so upset that he couldn’t face Ren’s own execution?

Although, that begged the question, would Martyn have been able to face it if he hadn’t seen what he had seen last night?

Probably not.

His fingers curled protectively against the opening to the pocket with the four-leaf clover. Pick pockets wouldn’t be searching for the likes of it, but he wasn’t taking any chances. It was thanks to that lucky little charm that Skizz and BigB had believed Martyn and everything Ren had told him. They were going to need it.

Martyn cupped his free hand around his mouth. “Etho. Etho!” He called, watching the movement of the crowd for any reactions. “Ethoooo…”

“Make way everyone! The royal court is arriving!”

That caught Martyn’s attention. Whoever had announced that was lost in the crowd, but the carriages pulling into the end of the square not boxed in by buildings were hard to miss anyway. The wind was nearly knocked out of his lungs as the people pressed back into him. Those closest to the driveway backed up, parting like the Red Sea for stately-looking carts pulled by proud horses. When they pulled to a stop, familiar officials in fine clothes stepped out.

Martyn recognized many of the advisors, court, and law drafters that appeared. Technically, as the Hand, he should be among them. They filed their way towards a cordoned-off section of the stage, set with seats and a wood plank guard that would probably come up to Martyn’s waist had he been standing up there.

But the last carriage pulled in. The one normally reserved for the king. The white horses slowed, and out stepped none other than…

“Scar???” Martyn’s heart nearly skipped a beat as he realized the shirtless man was with the high-ranking officials. He wore no insignia or sign of rank, but the others on the stage didn’t so much as bat an eye as the man… No. The fae pulled up a chair and sat with them.

Martyn’s hand dipped into his pocket. The tips of his fingers brushed against the dried clover stem with bated breath. Not the entire clover. Just the stem and a single leaf. It had been a gamble, but after the impromptu meeting with Scar last night, Martyn decided to take a risk. The clover was the only thing that let him see past whatever magic could keep monsters hidden. It had worked on Ren down in the dungeon, and then it had worked in Scar’s temporary room when he went with BigB and Skizz. But now that he wasn’t the only one who knew about the truth, he had to try to come up with a way to give his friends a little bit of that protection. Despite their arguments, he had finally decided to split up the clover and give them each a piece. One leaf for each of them. If it worked, they would need that for today in case anything went wrong

This was the moment of truth. Time to find out if he had made a huge mistake.

To his relief, the illusion surrounding Scar fell away. Martyn couldn’t make out the wings from this far away, Scar’s back was turned the other way, but he could still see the grey-blue skin with near-black scars crossing his body. Nobody else could see it, but Martyn could.

Thank heavens.

It took a bit more effort to move forward once more now that the crowd had compressed itself to make room for the officials, but he found a way. He had to get back to BigB. If the rest of the court were here now, then it wouldn’t be long before Ren arrived.

“Etho! Ethooo!”

“Hey, watch it,” someone growled at him as he pushed past.

“Wait a minute, isn’t that the King’s Hand?”

“I’d know that blond hair and bandanna anywhere.”

“It is! It’s Martyn!”

more and more people turned to look at him. Before Martyn could think of some way to reply, a hand wrapped around his arm.

“Did you know that the King was a beast?!” someone demanded angrily.

Martyn flinched back. “What? No, I did not!”

“But you’re the Hand,” someone else accused, jabbing a finger against his chest. “You’re the King’s closest advisor.”

“I bet you he was the one who orchestrated everything!”

“He could have helped the King hide the secret!”

“What other horrible things were you hiding from us, eh? What were you and the King planning?”

“Nothing,” Martyn spat. He was growing more and more frustrated. How dare these people accuse him of such things. And Ren too! As if Ren would plan anything horrible against his own people. “Why don’t you all bugger off and leave me alone. I had nothing to do with this.”

“Lies!”

“Everyone knows the King consults with you for everything.”

Despite everything, that sent a small pang through Martyn’s heart, because Ren hadn’t talked to him about this. Not until last night.

“I’ve said nothing but the truth. It’s not my fault you don’t believe me.” He tried to push forward. He went elbows first, trying to shove his way past more people, but the crowd closed in around him. More people snatched at his arms and shoulders. They weren’t about to let him go. “Hey! Don’t do that. Stop!”

“Don’t let him go until he tells the truth,” someone hissed.

Martyn pulled and pulled, but it wasn’t just like fighting an uphill battle. It was like trying to push forward against a rushing river. There hit a point where his feet just slipped against the ground in the effort to make headway, but was held back by the sheer force of everyone pressing in. “Let go!”

As soon as he shouted those words, another arm wrapped around his waist. Martyn cried out in surprise as it tugged sharply. His feet were dragged out from underneath him. He folded, falling out of the grip of most of the hands on his shoulders and upper arms. They reached after him, but the arm on his waist kept pulling. It half dragged, half carried him past the legs of more people. A few startled away, surprised at someone so low brushing past their legs, but it was far easier to travel and those reaching hands couldn’t keep up.

Martyn tried to pry off the fingers gripping his belt at the hip, but the gloved hand held firm. It dragged him for who knows how long before the people fell away and he was hauled out under a sparsely populated overpass for the guard towers. Only then did the arm around his waist release him. Martyn wasn’t exactly standing when it did so, so he fell into a lump of dirty snow with a crunch.

“You know, someone as famous as you should be more careful around crowds,” a light voice with a playful lilt said. “You should try laying low sometimes.”

Martyn let out a bigger sigh of relief than he thought possible on a day like today. With a smirk, he picked up a handful of the snow he landed in and tossed it at the man now standing in front of him. The one who had pulled him out of that situation. “Yeah, well now I’m lying down. Don’t suppose that’s low enough for ya, Etho?”

Etho reacted instinctively, pulling in his shoulders and holding up his arms in defense. The poor excuse for a snowball disintegrated into a wet spray of slush when it collided with Etho’s elbow.

“Where have you been,” Martyn demanded, rolling back up to his feet. He brushed what he could of the snow off the base of his trousers, but it was going to leave a wet mark on the seat. “We’ve been looking everywhere for you since last night.”

“Sorry man.” He shoved his hands into the pockets of his vest and backed away until his shoulders came to rest against the cobblestone wall of the tower. It was shadowed there. And with so few people nearby, it was like the two of them were standing in their own little slice of the town. A dark and damp slice, but private enough nonetheless. “I had to go clear my head.” His good eye went to the gap in the alley that still framed part of the wooden stage in the distance. The one where a gleaming ax rested against a dented block. “I wasn’t sure if I could even come today.”

“Well, boy am I glad you did.” Martyn fished in his pocket to look for the spare clover leaf he had been holding for Etho. “Listen, I know last night was crazy, and today is crazy too, but I went to see Ren last night.”

Etho’s shoulders stiffened against the cobblestone wall. His eye almost seemed to glow as it narrowed at Martyn. “You actually did it, huh?”

“I did, and he told me everything. It was…” Martyn’s breath hitched as he tripped over what to say next. “It was a lot,” he finally settled on. “But I can fill you in on most of that stuff later. What’s important right now is that you need to know Scar is a fairy.”

Martyn let his words hang in the air, waiting for them to sink in. Etho didn’t move. His shoulders didn’t relax. If anything, his eye narrowed even more. “You’re kidding, right,” he said, absolutely deadpan.

“Truly,” Martyn continued, a bit of desperation leaking into his voice. “You can ask Skizz and BigB if you don’t believe me because it’s true.”

“And Ren told you this?”

Martyn drew back. “Well, yes.”

“And you believed him?”

“Yes. I did,” Martyn said a little more forcefully. He didn’t like the edge creeping into Etho’s tone. “And you should too, Etho. He is our friend, after all.”

“Our friend that lied to us.”

“He didn’t lie! He just… he just omitted!”

“And now you’re acting like it doesn’t actually bother you,” Etho said with a knowing quirk to his brow. “Can you honestly say that you’re okay with everything that you know now? That you’re just going to trust him without question all over again? I told you, he’s going to do whatever he can to try to save himself. That includes toying with us!”

“Of course I don’t like it,” Martyn snapped. He means it so much he almost screams and startles the people at the edge of the alleyway. He means it with his very bones. “I’m pissed at Ren! And yeah, maybe he is worried about his own skin, but wouldn’t you be if you were in his position? Because I swear to God, you almost could have been.”

That self-assured look dropped off his face. Instead, it contorted into something much more guarded. “What do you mean?”

“He told me last night that this whole thing is because of that attack,” Martyn hissed. “By the riverside off the woodland trail. He got bit, and he ended up like this.”

Etho’s hand went absently to the side of his jaw where the fabric of his mask still covered his face. His one good eye shone with unease. “He… he could have been lying. He’s a-”

“Monster?” Martyn cut him off. “Yeah. I know. And I don’t really like it either. But I do know that the thing he was worried about most last night was that Scar was going to do something awful to Dogwarts and everyone in it. And I have a way to prove it.”

“MAKE WAY! KEEP YOUR DISTANCE! MAKE ROOM FOR THE MONSTER!”

Both of them froze as the announcement rang out.

Sure enough, the crowd parted once more, leaving a clear path for a large group of armored guards. They carried spears at the ready. The tips were real, but there was a bit of ceremonial flair provided by the flags hung below the spearheads that barely moved with the sway of their steps.

At their center was Ren. The king looked just as bad as when Martyn had seen him in the dungeon. He still wasn’t wearing his crown and his day clothes had grown even filthier from the night in the cell. His long hair had come loose. It was disheveled, barely hiding a few bruises on his face. There were even more along his arms. And as if to add more insult to injury, they had basically muzzled him. A large scrap of cloth was wrapped around his mouth and covered everything from his chin to his nose.

Ren walked slowly, but he walked with all the grace of a true King. His head was high. His eyes were firmly facing ahead where the stage lay. Every step he made caused the rope to pull at the chain around his arms and legs.

Step. Clink. Step. Clink. Step. Clink.

You would have to look hard to notice it, but Martyn could see the way Ren gripped at the end of the chain hanging from his wrists. The twitch of his fingers. To all the world, Ren was solid and fearless. But not to Martyn. Martyn saw the terror there that no one else could.

Etho’s voice sounded small behind him. “Ren…”

When Martyn looked back on his friend, Etho looked torn. He was gripping a corner in the bricks so tightly that his knuckles were white. The fabric of his mask shifted, but there was no way for Martyn to know for certain why. He could have been chewing at his lip, or opening and closing his mouth, unable to form words. There was a war raging behind that eye. Martyn just didn’t have time to wait and see which side won out.

“Here.” Martyn bumped his fist against Etho’s arm. Etho’s focus seemed to snap back to what was happening right in front of him. He reached up towards Martyn’s hand, looking confused. The confusion only deepened when Martyn opened his fingers and a single clover leaf fell into his friend’s palm. “Whatever you do, just hold onto this. If you were to ever trust me on anything, just trust me on this one, okay?”

Etho slowly closed his gloved fingers around the little leaf. “Okay.”

“I gotta go.” Martyn was disappointed as he turned away from Etho. He had hoped he could have had enough time to work him into the plan. The more people on his side, the better. But Etho’s heart wasn’t in it right now. It may never be.

Time was almost up.

Etho didn’t follow Martyn when he went out the back end of the alley. It opened a little chasm at the base of Martyn’s stomach to know that Etho wouldn’t be coming with him, but he kept going. He rounded the back streets, circling the square outside of the crowd to where he last left BigB.

Sure enough, Skizz was back. He and BigB were standing at the base of the stairs leading up the guard tower, deep in conversation. BigB saw him first. “No luck,” he called as Martyn drew close. “Skizz couldn’t find him back at the castle.” His brown eyes flicked to Ren, still making his way across Main Square. “I don’t think we have time to look anymore.”

“Don’t worry about it,” Martyn huffed. He debated telling them about his run-in with Etho, but that would just make them feel worse. It already made him feel pretty awful as it was. He would tell them after everything was over. Instead, he took his first step up the stairs and looked back over his shoulder to make sure his two friends were following. “Now come on. Let’s get into position.”

BigB and Skizz both nodded.

“Got it.”

“Sure thing.”

They split up. Martyn and BigB both went up the staircase, taking the steps two at a time, while Skizz stuck to the ground. He skirted along the buildings as he took off in the opposite direction, and Martyn quickly lost sight of him in the crowd.

Ren had just stepped up onto the stage when Martyn and BigB split, each taking different overpass bridges.

The crowd grew hushed as Ren finally came to a stop at the center of the stage. Another man came from the group of guards with him. Like the others he had traveled with, this gentleman was suited up in fine netherite armor. Unlike the others, though, he carried no weapon. His arms were further covered by thick leather gloves, not plate gauntlets. Nor did he wear a helmet. He wore a low-hanging hood. He stood behind Ren, offset to the side. Close enough that if he held his arm out he could reach the King.

The executioner.

Then one of the nobles from behind the wood cover stood. It was one of the eldest advisors. A long-time court member who had run important round table discussions with the King and his Hand many times before. He held his arms out in welcome and began to speak.

“Greetings, everyone. As you all know, we are here today because-”

And that’s about all Martyn heard before he tuned them out. It took a lot of concentration and physical duress to leap from building to building, and he would rather put that focus on making sure he didn’t end up going splat on the ground below.

He wasn’t the best at parkour, but he liked to think he had some skill. He was certainly fit enough to leap out the open viewing area in the guard bridge onto a nearby roof. And then climb up another story using the gaps in between the cobblestones.

All that mattered was that the official kept talking until he could get into position.

By the time Martyn made it to the top of the courthouse roof, Ren was being led over to the block. The guard in the hood was pulling him along with a hand clamped around his shoulder. Martyn’s breath hitched at the sight.

Despite the rough treatment, Ren looked unshaked as he was forced down onto his knees.

Fwip!

An arrow buried itself in the floor right in front of the speaking advisor.

They shouted. The executioner and the rest of the peanut gallery sitting on the sidelines of the stage backed away or shuffled in place, scared and confused. Screams went up across the crowd.

Ren’s eyes shone when he saw the fletching sticking up out of the floor.

Martyn’s gaze followed the arrow’s path all the way to the top of one guard tower, empty save for BigB peeking up over the bottom of the viewing window. Martyn could just barely make out the top of his bow from here. “Nice one, B,” he whispered to himself.

“What’s going on,” the advisor demanded, looking all around for the source of the arrow. “What is the meaning of this?”

“I’ll tell you what the meaning is…” Before the people onstage knew where to look, Skizz was already climbing up from the back. Everyone was too busy looking for the source of the arrow to think about checking the other way. The executioner didn’t have time to react as Skizz reached out and strong-armed the ax out of his hand. “I’ll be taking this.”

The armored man made a grab for Skizz, but Skizz was bigger, stronger, and faster. He slapped away their hand and danced back out of reach. He held the weapon out at the ready, daring anyone else to come closer.

That was Martyn’s cue.

He stood up, arms held wide to make himself as large and noticeably as possible. “Everybody! I have something to say!”

Murmurs rose up from below.

“Who is that?” “Isn’t that the Hand?”

“I told you he was in on it!”

“They’re attacking!”

“Please, everyone,” Martyn cried. “Just listen!”

Ren looked up with wide eyes. He was still kneeling, but cracks were forming in his stoic mask. To say he looked relieved would be an understatement.

Skizz gestured up towards Martyn with the ax. The motion made him look extremely intimidating. It certainly made an impression on the crowd. “If I were you, I would pay attention.” His words had an immediate effect. The crowd became silent. The officials onstage froze. Even the executioner backed away a step or two as everyone turned their attention to the man on top of the courthouse.

“I understand the law is clear,” Martyn began. “But I have come to say there is another monster in our midst. One that actually poses a danger to us all. One that King Ren has been trying to protect us all from. And yet it sits among you while you worry about destroying someone who was never a threat at all.”

“What could you possibly mean, Hand,” the advisor demanded.

Martyn pointed down to the one man who stuck out like a sore thumb amidst the group of nobles. The man who appeared to have blue-grey skin as long as Martyn held on to his little stem. “I mean Scar.”

All eyes went to the shirtless man.

“Well that’s just ridiculous,” Scar said with that honey-sweet voice of his. “Honestly, Martyn, I thought we were getting along. And here you are making such wild and baseless accusations. Clearly, you’re distressed after learning about this man here.” He gestured towards the King still kneeling by the block.

“Aha, but I learned a thing or two from you last night, ey Scar. I can prove it, just like you did.” Martyn dared a smile. He held up the clover stem. It would be too small for everyone to see from up here, but it would get his point across. “The thing is, Scar. I can see you. I can see your wings.” As soon as the words left his mouth, the smile dropped off of Scar’s face. His eyes grew wide as saucers and Martyn’s smile grew bigger and bigger. He knew Martyn wasn’t bluffing, and it only made his guilt more apparent. People were starting to give him odd looks, questioning his reaction. They inched away from him, starting to wonder if there was something to what the Hand was saying. Martyn waved the plant, daring to feel a little triumphant. ”Turns out, a little clover can go a long way.”

He and Scar stared each other down for a moment. The crowd grew hushed. The court inched away, putting more space between them and Scar.

Finally, Scar let out a defeated sigh and rolled his shoulders. “Well, I guess the jig is up.” The motion sent his wings vibrating. Bright blue particles drifted off the filigree wings like dust and emanated out from him.

Almost instantly, the people in the crowd slumped in on themselves. Their eyes grew glassy as the fae glamor worked its magic.

Oh no. Martyn hadn’t expected Scar to jump to something like that so quickly. He gripped the clover in his hand tighter, praying that it would keep the magic at bay like Ren said.

“Oh, that little weed won’t help you,” Scar said with a chuckle. He tilted his head back to stare at Martyn once more, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “Sure, my glamor won’t work, but it doesn’t have to when I have everyone else conveniently right here.”

A shiver ran down Martyn’s back as the wings on Scar’s back lifted. With a snap of his fingers, a wave of blue pulsed through the veins lining the wings. “Take care of them.”

The people in the crowd lurched to life. They stumbled forward. Many towards the stage, but some towards the tower where BigB was hiding, or the base of the courtroom below Martyn.

Not good.

Martyn scrambled to climb down. He stumbled, slipped, and then rolled down the roof towards its edge. His hand barely managed to grab the gutter before he could go tumbling further. Beneath him, Skizz was struggling to keep the mesmerized executioner at bay. He had the ax, and the other man was unarmed, but Skizz clearly didn’t want to hurt someone who wasn’t in their right mind. Still, the executioner wasn’t pulling back any punches. As he struggled to pull himself up, Martyn caught sight of Skizz taking a nasty left hook to the chest before his fingers gave out. With a jolt, Martyn just managed to brace himself before he dropped from the second-story roof to the one below.

He had to get down there and help Skizz. Hopefully, BigB had enough space between him and the crowd to make a run for it.

“I said,” Scar huffed a little more harshly. “Take care of them!”

Before Martyn could get back up to his feet, a hand wrapped around his ankle. He had barely enough time to grip the clover in his fist before he was dragged roughly off the edge of the overhang. The spectators who had hauled him off let him hit the brick floor with a painful, “oomph.”

They were reaching for him. Hands grabbed his arms and his shoulders. Pressed down on his back. Kept him pinned.

“NO! SKIZZ,” he screamed as the executioner full-body barreled into Skizz. His friend slammed head-first into one of the posts lining the stage and was out like a light. He slumped over, passed out but still holding the ax.

“Now let’s get this show on the road,” Scar said, rolling his shoulders once more. Another pulse of blue light flashed across his wings. “Hurry up and finish this up so we can move on and I can take over, okay big guy?”

The executioner didn’t respond. He turned back to Skizz. One by one, he pried Skizz’s fingers off the handle before he could rip it free.

Ren looked beside himself. He was screaming behind the gag, trying to muscle his way back up to his feet so he could run towards his fallen friends, but more members of the crowd were holding him down. They kept him kneeling in place as the hooded man approached with the ax.

“Please, stop! You don’t have to do this,” Martyn cried, trying to pull himself out of the grip of his own captors. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

“Don’t worry, uh… what’s your name again? Marty? It’s nothing personal. I’ll deal with you after this. And your friends. You won’t have to remember a thing. Trust me. It’s going to be amazing. Now if you’ll excuse me.” Scar snapped his fingers once more.

With one hand, the executioner pinned Ren’s shoulder down against the block. With the other, he raised the ax high overhead. It gleamed menacingly as it caught the light of the sun at its apex.

Martyn struggled. He heaved and pulled and dug his feet into the ground, trying everything he could to break free. To get away. To stop this!

He caught Ren’s eye. His friend and his King. They both realized at this moment that there was nothing either of them could do. Ren stopped trying to wrench himself free. A single second felt like an eternity, and in it, Martyn could have almost sworn he saw Ren smile sadly.

Then time ran out.

The ax came down.

THUNK!

“M’LOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOORD…!!”

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ophelia-jones · 1 year

Text

Negan was having a bad day. He would much rather be at the tables playing a hand of five-card stud with Kate, but instead, he had to deal with the shitstorm the god-damned Dixons had started. He should have shut that shit down after they robbed the first stagecoach. Or at least when they did it in his fucking county. Make no mistake about it, this was HIS county.

Rick the prick and his little shadow Shane might like to think they were the ones who kept order in this little corner of heaven but it was 100% Negan. No one did anything without him knowing about it, and reacting accordingly. Punishment was, as it should be, swift and brutal.

Now here they were, Shane and the ginger giant of a US Marshall. Poking their noses into Negan's business, and asking too many fucking questions.

They stood outside his house, and no matter how hard he pushed, he couldn't seem to get it through to the Marshall that he wasn't scared of his fucking tin star. The feds could fuck right off - the territories were as far separated from the Eastern states as the US was from England these days.

He heard a horse approaching from around the other side of the house, and the feeling in his gut told him shit was about to go fucking sideways. He wasn't wrong.

It was hard to say who was more shocked when Daryl and Willow rounded the corner on that big black stallion and saw the Marshall. For a moment, Negan thought they would run, and if Daryl had been alone on the horse he probably would have. There was no outrunning the lawmen on their fresh horses with his horse worn out from carrying the two of them for the last two days with barely a break. Besides, the risk to Willow was too high for his conscience.

Negan sighed and rubbed his eyes. If the Dixon brothers weren't so god-damned hard to scare, he'd have no use for them at all. Daryl in particular was a thorn in his side. The only power Negan had ever held over him was his loyalty to Merle.

"Daryl, you have the worst fucking timing of any fucking fucker I have ever fucking known," Negan told him as Abraham drew his pistol and ordered the two of them to dismount and put their hands up.

They were doing as he said, and Abraham never knew what hit him as Negan drew Lucille and put a bullet in his temple. The giant of a man stumbled sideways three feet before falling to his knees.

"Damn! Look at you! I am impressed, I have to fucking admit," Negan said as he slowly approached the man, taking his pistol from him. His fingers could no longer grip it to pull the trigger anyway.

"How are you still breathing? Wow!" Negan exclaimed, bending at the knees and leaning way back to grin down at the wounded man.

"I mean WOW! You are one stubborn son of a bitch, aren't you?" he walked around the dying man in a circle and looked up at the others, sharing his amusement with them.

Daryl and Shane each stared at him with little to no reaction to the situation. They knew Negan well enough to guard their emotions. Negan's power over people came from manipulating their feelings almost as much as it came from his political and financial power.

Willow's hands were over her mouth, tears in her eyes. Negan grinned at her.

"Bring back some memories?" he asked, wrinkling his nose happily at her. It was almost in the exact spot where he had shot her father eight years ago, the day he had come to take ownership of this ranch. He approached the woman, leaning dramatically to one side so he could stay at eye level with her.

"Seems like every time you get involved in my business, someone ends up fucking dead!" he declared, still grinning. "Maybe you should learn to stop resisting and let me help you. You know, I've made you two VERY generous offers. I'm not likely to make many more," he told her, reaching out to gently stroke Willows's soft cheek. He pushed a lock of her blonde hair behind her ear as she glared at him through her tears.

"Leave her alone!" Daryl snarled, taking a step toward Negan, who didn't turn away from her but pointed at Daryl threateningly.

"Stop right fucking there if you don't want anyone else to die here today," Negan snarled back. He was not afraid of Daryl - though he was impressed with how hard it was to scare the man. His only weakness was his concern for other people.

Daryl stopped and glowered at him. He looked like a wolf ready to strike.

Willow's chest ached and her stomach twisted at the memory of that day. Her father had challenged Negan to a duel after Negan had come to evict them from their home - which her father had lost to Negan in a card game the week before. He had tried to reason with the man, but the more he had argued the more cruelty Negan had gotten. When Negan had offered to keep Willow here as his whore her father had been unable to let it go.

"You could've just stayed here, slept in your own bed all these years. You wouldn't have lost a god-damned thing! I am a stand-up guy, when I promise to take care of a woman, I do it!" Negan told her now. Willow trembled with rage and fear as he smiled down at her, still touching her hair and staring at her intently.

"Hell, I even made you a SECOND offer! And you chose to deny it for THAT!" Negan reminded her, pointing to Daryl. Negan shook his head in disappointment. "Some people just do not know what's good for them," he concluded.

"What the monkey-fuck…?" Abraham managed to form a few sensible words, and everyone turned to look at him, his face covered in his blood. He was trying to stand now, despite the bullet in his brain.

"Holy SHIT! Look at YOU!" Negan laughed. "I'm almost sorry to do this!" he said before lifting Lucille and shooting the man again. Willow flinched and cried out, closing her eyes.

"How the fuck am I supposed to explain this?" Shane asked, running his hands over his face anxiously and beginning to pace. Shane owed Negan more money than Merle Dixon ever had, but Negan liked having him under his thumb. It was better than wearing a badge himself; he had control of Shane like a puppet and no one was the wiser.

"You came across the outlaws by surprise and got in a fucking shootout. Maybe I should shoot you in the fucking leg to make it more fucking believable," Negan replied, aiming Lucille in Shane's direction now.

"Wait, wait, man what the hell do you think will happen if every god damned lawman in the county gets fucking shot?" Shane exclaimed. Negan lifted Lucille to the sky as he seemed to carefully consider Shane's argument, his expressive face almost comical.

"Fair point. Simon, count that money for me while I beat the ever-loving shit out of Shane." Negan ordered his second in command as he picked up a shotgun by its barrel and wielded it like a club.

Rick sat outside the jail, his arm in a sling to keep the bullet wound from reopening. The posse he had managed to round up had been unsuccessful in locating the fugitives, and it was now Friday night. The odds of the locals getting shit-faced and deciding to take justice into their own hands were getting higher by the second. The last thing he needed was a lynch mob in his hands.

"Any word from Abraham and Shane?" Jess asked, stepping out of the jailhouse to join Rick. She couldn't handle listening to Merle berate her any longer. The man was so full of hate and anger it spewed out of him like water from a fire hose.

"No," Rick replied with a shake of his head. It didn't take much to recognize the fact that this man was bearing a heavy burden, it was written all over his face. It was declared in the tension in his shoulders, the way he clenched his jaw and his one good fist. His blue eyes were like stormy skies.

"How about volunteer deputies?" She asked, knowing full well that they'd had no one show up to help in the search party.

"Jerry will be here soon," Rick sighed. Jerry was an affable, good-humored man with one hell of a good heart but he doubted his ability in the sort of scenario he was preparing for.

He turned to look at Jess. He had been surprised when he arrived at the jail earlier that day - she was a transformed woman from the one he had been introduced to the day of the bank robbery. She'd ditched the traveling dress which had covered her from chin to ankle and which restricted her movement. Now she donned a pair of riding pants, high boots, a white linen shirt, and a black duster jacket. She still stuck out because of the high quality and new condition of her clothing but at least now she could move freely and ride a horse. It was a start.

She still kept her brown hair pinned up tightly and she wore only one pistol on her hip. She was a handsome woman, whose upper-class status was written all over. It was in her eyes beneath the long, thick lashes and the way she looked down her nose at everyone. It was in her bearing and the way she spoke.

She may as well have painted a giant red target on her forehead; everything she represented was the things the men who had come west were trying to get away from. Society, wealth disparity, upper-class righteousness. He worried that she would not last a week in this place.

As he studied her profile, he saw her eyebrows draw together, then she shaded her eyes with one hand.

"I think that's them. Or their horses, at least," she said with a concerned frown. Rick followed her gaze to see Abrahams horse, apparently empty, tied to Shanes. Shane was slumped in his saddle, and Rick's heart began to pound. He wanted to ride out to them, but his horse was in the stable, and he couldn't mount up with one arm anyway.

As they drew closer, every eye in the street turned to stare, and Rick's sense of dread grew by the second. Abraham's body was draped over his horse's back, his blood staining the animals coat. Shane's face was a bloody, swollen mess.

When he reached the jail, he dismounted weakly. He looked half dead, his arm wrapped around his bruised ribs and his face a mask of pain.

"Shane, what happened, brother?" Rick asked, wrapping his good arm around his oldest friend and supporting him as Shane had done for Rick just days ago.

"We were on our way out to Negan's to ask him those questions Abraham had, and we came across a campsite. We were taking a look for tracks and they got the jump on us, Rick. They got the jump on us…" he replied weakly. Rick helped Shane to the chair at the desk and looked him over.

"Why didn't they shoot you?" Jess asked, looking down at Shane where he sat. They were all doing their best to ignore Merle's laughter at the sight of the bloodied deputy.

"What?" Shane asked, gawking up at her as if she had just asked him the meaning of life or some other unanswerable question.

"Abraham has been shot in the head, no sign I can see that he's been beaten. Why did they shoot him and not you?" she asked coolly. Shane stared up at her, his mouth agape as if offended beyond words.

"He was mounted when they shot him," he finally said, "I was on foot. I took cover and they wasted a lot of ammo - I finally got close enough to take one of their guns. The second one ran and I tried to take the other into custody but …" Shane lifted his arms and looked down at himself by way of explanation. "He got away."

"Where's his gun?" Jess pressed.

"What?"

"If you disarmed him, where's his firearm, I'd like to see it," she told him with a shrug that clearly said she considered this a perfectly reasonable request.

"He picked it back up when he fled," Shane replied dryly.

"But he didn't use it to finish you off?" she asked, one slender brown brow arched over her hazel eyes.

"He was out of ammo, like I said," Shane replied crossly. "What the hell is this? I get attacked by them and now I get attacked again by you?"

"Calm down now, brother. She's just trying to understand what happened," Rick told Shane before frowning up at Jess. "It's not the right time for questions." he told her firmly.

"It's always best to ask right after an incident," Jess argued. "When it is fresh, before the memory gets corrupted. Before there's time to imagine details."

"You calling me a liar?" Shane asked, standing and stalking toward Jess, stopping inches from her and glaring down into her eyes.

"I didn't say that," Jess replied evenly, no sign of fear in her voice. She'd never even taken a step backwards as the far bigger man had advanced upon her so threateningly. She never so much as batted an eye.

"It's good to see you regaining your strength," she said. She didn't have to phrase the words as an accusation that he'd been exaggerating his injuries, her tone did that well enough.

Shane's lips pursed into a thin line and his jaw tightened as he glared at her. Rick stepped in between them

"Hey, let's just take a step back here. Shane, have a seat. Jess, why don't you go get the undertaker, and see if you can find Isadora to help Shane tend to his injuries." It wasn't a request, it was an order and each of them did as they were told.

#negan fanfiction #negan #shane walsh #the walking dead fanfiction

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theyroaredvintage · 2 years

Text

I couldn't find this short story anywhere online, so I typed it out and wanted to post it here.

Of a Grapefruit in the World of Park

By Yoko Ono

A grapefruit remained on the table when the picnic was over. And the people from the M. company lay down on the green, turning up their stomachs contentedly to the sky.

“Who wants to finish this?” asked a tall girl.

They all glanced at the grapefruit. It was a greenish yellow thing, with little wrinkles around it.

“Why don’t you throw it away?”

“Oh, you can eat this. Besides, the waste basket is too full.”

The girl stood there without wasting her movement. People began to talk again of nothing in particular. The sky was too high. And the voices sounded unusually small in the warm, lazy afternoon air. People’s minds flew away between the clouds. And a girl, dozing under a willow tree, fancied that the dropping dew on her cheeks were the kisses of her lover.

“Oh, these people, wasting food!” said the tall girl.

“Give me that. Let’s do something with it.” A beautiful boy got up and came to the table. He took the grapefruit and threw it into the air. It turned awkwardly, and dropped into his hands again.

“What can you do with it?” asked the girl.

“Oh, well...”

Then she said that it was late, and people weren’t cooperating with her at all to clean up.

“Look at all this mess. You know, there are some who came from the end of the town. They really have to go home early. Besides, the park is closing in a few minutes. It seems as if I’m the only one who is awake around here.”

The boy just answered yeah, yeah automatically, and stuck a pencil into the grapefruit.

“And think of it! I had to get this food all for ten dollars! What can you buy with ten dollars for this many people? I wanted to make it fancier, you know…not popcorn and coke anyway. But what can you do? Sue was supposed to help me this year, but well, she can’t be of much help. Of course I admit that I like it in a way, but last year it was different. It wasn’t like this all.”

The boy continued nodding. And his long, well shaped fingers began to peel the outside skin of the grapefruit. The skin was hard, and he could only peel it in little pieces. His fingertips turned red.

“Now, don’t hurt your fingers.”

“No, I’m listening…go on…”

“Well, that’s all…it’s just that…”

After the outside skin was peeled, the grapefruit suddenly looked fresh and orange.

“It’s so juicy,” said the boy. “Oh, well…”

“Don’t mess around like that…” said the girl. “Let’s try one.”

The boy handed a piece to her. She sipped it with her wide thin mouth.

“How is it?”

She made a face instead of answering. And swallowed it.

“Well, anyway, people have to serve others, you know…I don’t want you to get any idea that I’m complaining of being in charge of the picnic.”

The boy neatly tore off the white stripes around the grapefruit. Then he divided it into portions, and took off the inner tissue skin. He did this with such care that the girl often had to stop talking and wait until he had finished the skin of one portion, and pasted on the table.

There were many tables set in the park, and wasted papers scattered around them like white flowers. Two girls, both with squint-eyes, were playing peas-porridge-hot at a wooden bench. And a child in a blue sailor blouse was crying beside them, with sandy lollipop in his hand. Although the sound of the street cars were heard at times, people walked around unconsciously, hand in hand, like beings in a dream.

The fingers of the boy then gathered the flesh of the grapefruit, squeezed it, and pressed it hard table until nothing remained. His nostrils were slightly expanded, and his breath was quiet but violent.

“Look, that cloud is moving!” said someone lying in the grass.

“It was between those trees before. See?” There was no answer. The sound of the street car was heard.

“So I think it’s good if they systematize that way, you know” said the tall girl, lowering her voice without reason.

“Yeah.”

Just then the watchman called out loudly in the distance.

“Oh, it’s closing.” And, turning around, the girl shouted to others, “It’s closing.”

People stood up slowly and began to fix themselves. Women straightened their hair. And men brushed grass from the women’s shoulders.

“Let’s go,” growled an old, fat man. The boy wiped his sticky fingers on the grass.

“Betsyee: Stop that, we’re going now!”

A little girl came running.

“Are we going, Mommy?”

“Look how you’re perspiring. You’ll catch cold, pussy. Hurry and put your sweater on.”

“I’m hot, Mommy. Can’t I have that grapefruit? Mommy…”

“Oh, somebody has eaten it already. Now put on your jacket, too. It’s really getting chilly.”

The bell rang again, and a group of boys who were playing baseball at the far end of the park began to break up.

“Closing!” shouted the watchman, continuously.

“Closing…” the girl repeated absent-mindedly while her mother tied the bow of her bonnet.

People started to leave, and soon the park was all cleared out. The faint wind crossed over the table, and gradually dried up the pasted skin and the row of the seeds. The sound of the closing gate permeated the dusk. A bird hopped on the table and picked up a little piece of green leaf. For a while, the place turned into a pool of warm lights.

Even the mossy bark of the old trees glittered gold. But then, before long, the green, the clouds and the park, all vanished together into darkness. The seed stayed shining till the last, like a reflected spots inside the retina, and went out.

#yoko ono #yoko #grapefruit #short story

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bicsbec · 2 years

Text

The Noceda House

Chapter 2: Abominable Anxieties

Amity couldn’t sleep the first night in Luz’s room. Her head was buzzing with too many thoughts. Her mom, The Collector, the covens, almost losing Luz. They kept looping in her head.

Her mother’s indifference, cold and calculated, was unnerving. She never realized the extent her business mindset reached. How had she not noticed before? Her mom had always run a tight ship, ruled her family with a strict fist, imposed social relations as she deemed them an appropriate image for the family. But this was too far, insanely far.

The Collector was…he made her nervous. He seemed like a kid, but his aura was ancient. There was also something about his ease of power that was unnatural, dangerously unfamiliar. Amity was dreading having to face him again. She really didn’t want to think about what would happen then.

She wondered what happened to the covens, if The Collector had them trapped in some sort of sick game. She worried about her dad and Ed and Em. She hoped her dad had gotten away safely, that despite everything, her family was safe.

Amity had never entertained the idea of losing Luz, not like she almost did. She thought she could bear losing her to the Human Realm, but she never saw it in a near future. Looking back to find Luz ready to be a damn martyr wasn’t something she was ready for. She didn’t have the words for the all-encompassing fear that gripped her at the sight.

She turned on the air mattress, a plastic rectangle that’s name didn’t make much sense to her, to look over at Luz’s spot on the floor. She had insisted on Willow and Vee taking the bed, saying she was used to sleeping on the floor in the Owl House. Amity had wanted to be as close as possible to Luz, too scared to stray too far.

But Luz was gone, just a bundle of blankets in her place. Amity’s heart leapt to her throat, as she sat up and scanned the room frantically. She noticed the window was open and made her way over to look outside. Much to her relief, Luz was sitting on the roof beside the window, looking tired but alert.

“Can’t sleep, hermosa?” she asked with a soft smile. Amity tried her best to return it.

“Not really,” Amity said in a low voice, trying not to wake the others. “It’s been a crazy day.”

“Yeah… Wanna come sit?”

Amity nearly slipped as she climbed out onto the roof, Luz catching her with a steady hand and leading Amity to sit beside her.

The roof was cold and wet, which was upsetting in contrast with how warm it was inside. Amity nudged Luz with her elbow to get her attention.

Luz scrunched her nose in that cute way she sometimes did instead of verbalizing a question.

“Can’t sleep either?”

Luz sighed and shook her head, leaning it against Amity’s shoulder. She scooped up Amity’s hand and began to play with her fingers. Amity let her, cherishing the warmth of her hands, the confirmation that Luz was alive and well. They stayed in comfortable silence, looking over at the neighboring houses, until Luz spoke up.

“Y’know, sweet potato, I’m grateful for ya,” Luz slurred, sounding like she was already falling asleep.

“Yeah?” Amity felt her face warm despite the cold air.

She felt Luz nod, her head movement slow and heavy.

“I’m grateful for you, too,” Amity said earnestly, tracing gentle circles against the back of Luz’s hand.

“Hm, you’re really pretty…”

She noticed how heavy Luz felt against her and realized she’d fallen asleep mid-sentence. Amity smiled. She loved how sappy Luz could be. How her sweetness was always present, even when she was practically unconscious or high with the common mold.

Amity spelled one of her Abominations to carry Luz back inside where it was warm and dry. Luz didn’t even stir. Amity reached across from her mattress and took her hand, her fingers close to her pulse, watching her breaths come and go.

Amity didn’t sleep that first night in Luz’s room. Her thoughts were busy with memories of her goofy, wonderful girlfriend. Her thumb ran soft circles on the back of Luz’s hand, willing Luz to realizing how much she was cherished by Amity and her friends, hoping she realized she wasn’t alone in this mess.

Amity saw the sun come up and the room be engulfed in a layer of blue light. It changed to Luz’s room in the Owl House. Gus must be up.

Amity had taken up the habit of writing down her thoughts, like she had with her diary (only these pages didn’t talk back). It kept her sane, keeping log of their days in the Human Realm.

She’d skipped on the first few days, the adjustment too messy to sort out into words. At first, she wrote down lists of things they’d done that day, but her writing quickly turned to rambles about the things that worried her.

Today Willow paced the front of the house, leaving strange flowers with each step. She did this until Mrs. Noceda left for work and stormed into the house mumbling something about giraffes. It was weird to see Willow with much conviction and confidence, I guess I’m still getting used to the real her. She was probably the calmest of all of us.

Hunter hasn’t talked much, even with Gus or Willow. Luz is frantic to get back to the Demon Realm. And me? I’m just trying to not be so nervous around Mrs. Noceda.

She insists on me calling her Camila, but that’s way too weird. She seemed delighted to meet me, but I’m terrified of leaving a bad impression. Mrs. Noceda is very nice, though. I wish I wasn’t so jumpy.

“Watcha got there?” Willow asked over her shoulder, peering at her writing. Amity stiffened, snapping her little notebook shut.

“Nothing!” she said quickly. Willow jumped back and Amity took a breath, relaxing. “Sorry, it’s just a little something to keep my mind busy. I don’t want to worry about the things I can’t do anything about.”

“That’s smart,” Willow said with a smile. “Mrs. Noceda told me to come fetch you for dinner. Do you know where Hunter is? I have to look for him, too.”

“I thought he was with you.”

“Hm, he must’ve gone out again,” Willow said thoughtfully. She looked out the living room window, her eyes searching. “Well, thanks anyway.”

Amity wandered into the dinning room and saw that no one had come down yet. She peered into the kitchen to find Mrs. Noceda turning off the stove. Her stomach twisted in an unpleasant way, hesitating to step inside. She took a breath and steeled herself.

“Is there anything I can help you with, Mrs. Noceda?”

“Oh, please, Camila is fine,” she insisted again. “You don’t have to be so formal just because you’re Luz’s girlfriend.”

Amity blushed, still flustered at the idea of calling a grown-up something other than a title or sir or ma’am. Her parents had done a great job of drilling that into her mannerisms.

Mrs. Noceda waved her off, not unkindly. “Go, sit, sit. Don’t worry yourself, it’s Vee and Luz’s turn to help me.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

At dinner, Gus kept looking excitedly between Luz and her mom, like he was silently willing something to happen.

Luz shook her head with a smile and cleared her throat.

“Mamá, I wanted to ask you if we could go to the zoo tomorrow,” Luz said. “Gus has always wanted to see giraffes.”

There they were again. Giraffes.

“That sounds like a nice idea,” Mrs. Noceda agreed. “I’m sure you kids have been wanting to see more of Gravesfield.”

Hunter shifted in his seat, looking somewhat uncomfortable, but one else seemed to notice.

“We’ll leave early tomorrow, try and avoid the crowds,” Mrs. Noceda said with a kind smile at Gus.

Gus brightened. “Thank you, Mrs. Noceda!”

Amity wasn’t sure if she’d seen Gus smile like that since they’d arrived. It was nice.

#toh #amity blight #luz noceda #gus porter #willow park #hunter toh #camila noceda #the owl house #The Noceda House #post-season 2 #season 2 spoilers #kinda? idk #fanfiction #writing #1349k words #bicsbec

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joysmercer · 2 years

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How do you think Season 3 would've went down if Nina and Amber never left? (Would KT/Willow still show up? Would Peddie/Fabina still go through a breakup? Etc) Also, how do you think they would've played out the osirian/chosen one relationship? (I've always thought they would've revealed them to be related or something)

ok so someone asked this as a prompt ages ago and i’m stuck on it lmaooo (sorry) but to answer your questions directly/share what i have so far:

KT would still show up and stay in Anubis and willow would still be around but maybe not move in

i have an idea that would explain why nina left in canon and how she figured things out but hesitant to share it lmao but let's just say that nina does know of kt vaguely (but doesn't initially recognize her), though i haven't decided if kt knows of nina (in this universe)

patricia and eddie would still break up over the summer—I think they were heading that way at the end of season 2 itself and the breakup was actually really important to their future stability so we're going to keep it in.

things are pretty awkward between patricia and eddie for obvious reasons, and fabian and nina as well because that’s just how they are

nina and eddie did spend some time together post-breakup though, with amber at one point; the latter posted a picture of the three of them in nyc so everyone knows they hung out

fabian’s jealous. so is patricia

eddie's vision about KT comes during amber's party (so a little later than in canon i think), except it's nina who gets it instead…as she's walking down the stairs…and eddie's in the living room but gets a Sense and dashes outside to catch her just as she's about to faint.

fabian finds them leaning against eddie's bed and she has a headache and resting against his shoulder and because fabian’s already wary of them, he immediately thinks the worst. things get a little crazy.

anyway this happens…

i don't think nina and eddie would be related (unless very distantly). their relationship would be like that of cousins who are the same age and constantly compared to each other but also good friends.

everyone just expects them both to always know what to do and i feel like, at least in the beginning, they'd be convinced the other is better as a sibuna leader than they are, and that would cause tension. nina in particular would probably chafe under eddie's direction when he takes the lead on something (because she's so used to doing things a certain way).

however, they also have a close connection (both supernaturally and as friends) and they'd definitely grow closer over the season—i anticipate it becoming kinda how eddie and kt are in canon; i do think the 3 of them in this au would band together not just because they're outsiders but because they all have a weird connection to the house that the others don't and an innate trust for each other because of it

nina would become the first sinner (or ig second counting victor) instead of patricia. patricia immediately gets super protective over eddie after this happens for Reasons and he gets annoyed lowkey.

also jerome and joy are briefed on the Sinner situation after this and joy immediately institutes a buddy system so no one's alone to be taken/there are always ppl around to manage high emotions before denby can grab the offending person

someone pls correct me if I'm wrong but i don't think there was a way to bring the sinners back except for reawakening ammut? so then they're like. shit. and buddy system goes away to maximize their chances of awakening ammut quickly, except, again, for peddie because under no circumstances can eddie get taken (again, for Reasons)

regardless of whether or not that^ is true, other students are also targetted too in this au so maybe only 1 other sibuna member is taken in the end

nina and amber end up in a similar state as fabian/mara do at the end of s3 in canon (like openly flirty but not together u know). i currently dont think either of them act on anything until grad/after grad but this might change akfsjl

but also im just generally debating namber vs fabina endgame so who even knows.

like i said this is very preliminary but if you have more specific questions feel free to ask! it'll help me figure things out too and i love this au so much so id love to answer :)

#house of anubis #asks #anon #my writing #writer tag #hoa: nina season 3 au

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mikeartblogyear3 · 1 year

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Week 8

I started this week by creating another graphite piece. I wanted to return to having portrait as the focal element and celebrate the aura of a character instead of landscape being the main point.

But I always leave these drawings unsatisfied. There’s little continuity in them and I don’t get any desire for future pieces. I used to be able to see the images in my head, pieces that I really wanted to make, but now it’s become a place to keep myself together and the love has faded.

I want to dive into a new space where I can feel that unknown quality, or the unease of not being comfortable in the medium. I’ve tried oil before, and I really enjoy how slow the process can be. There feels like there’s a deep well of magic in it, but I just have never been strong enough to delve into it. So I am going to attempt something and see what eventuates.

Frustration is definitely something that comes up initially. I am so used to knowing how to control the graphite space so now that I am suddenly in this new area I’m not sure how go about linking my inner structure with it. I never expected to be suddenly comfortable with it - I know that’ll take time. What I need to focus on is the initial weaving of a relationship during this early stage.

Because I don’t have that comfortability, I don’t have much desire to return to it. Right now I am letting it dry, but I kind of like its foggy landscape. I do want to deepen it, but I’m not sure how I’m going to go about layering that. I also think I perhaps should have started with layering and blending just black and white, but I need to get out of that space of knowing.

I also want to step away from banging my head against a wall, which is what I feel has been the primary feeling in art lately... stagnant state of rotational art. I don’t want this. Is it possible though to have a loop going simultaneously with an another system that is exploring the outer. Like being both hunter/gatherer and caretaker. I’m not sure if it was Socrates or Aristotle that said “A builder is only a builder when they’re building a house” - Like we can be more than one thing, and be in more than one state. I confine myself to only one state of being, because I think that’s probably the main idea of living - nestled in this space of a family unit - and existing outside of that lifestyle is ‘other’ . It’s just another way, but I don’t know how to operate it, because I fixate on the feeling of being different.

So I can probably have art as a way to spread these sections of myself out-

the graphite space:

The main loop space -

- where my structural side operate

- what I need to feel safe?

Where I can keep the space above ground.

The Unknown space:

- Just experiments, play with anything and try new things.

- I always feel an instant sense of dread when I even think about venturing into this space, so I need to figure out how to balance it out.

--- don’t spend too long in either side (creates the crash) ??? ---

Referring back to past ideas in blog posts - I always arrive at exhaustion and the fear of slipping in that state of a more relaxed mind. Is this just another state of my and isn’t a negative reflection of/on the other?

Research:

Witch craft:

Started studying various practices of witch craft, and artists who practice witch craft. I started reading Lolly Willowes by Sylvia Townsend Warner, a story about her leaving her family unit to seek a space for herself in the country.

These two pages near the end of the book stood out to me...

- To have a life of one’s own, not an extension doled out to you by others

It’s a really powerful book, most of regards Lolly being a compliant memeber of her family and an Aunt figure mostly. She tried to distance herself from that dynamic and sought the country to discover herself, but the threads were not so easily loosened and they eventually found their way to her again.

Voo Dou has similar universal elements as surrealism/ using their craft as a way to liberate the self from slave mentality. Trying to relax and open that space and adopt more intuitive/magical powers. In Mama Lola’s ‘A Vodou Priestess in Brooklyn’ she discusses the course of her craft and the leaving one self and constructing another.

ARTIST RESEARCH:

Gala Bent, a minimilist surrealist painter creates these seemingly small spaces on paper that focuses our attention on their strange designs.

I’ve been struggling to progress in a maximalist direction so perhaps I should keep going to the minimalist journey and get smaller and simpler in concept.

By narrowing my designs to an even smaller space perhaps that’ll help with understanding a more clear direction for myself.

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thestressedsimmer · 1 year

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This is a little bit of an awkward holiday - sad for some of the kids and some (looking at you, Ulysses) don't really care about it. But! We're going to try!

Willow starts off the day by keeping up with some... ahem future daddies. This one is a spellcaster. So I'm hoping that we get a chance soon - but we have to age some kids up first.

At around 4, the dads come over for a slumber party! (My first one since Growing Together came out, since this is also my Growing Together test save.) Noah got Christopher a gift (he didn't know what he really likes, so he got him a stereo) but Ulysses didn't care all that much - but he did let his dad give him a hug. A big thing for him. That counts as a gift.

DANCE PARTY!

Everyone set up their sleeping bags outside, since the inside is pretty crowded. Stories were told all around - Ulysses told one about a vampire and Bailey told an adventure story. Ulysses has actually shown a soft side today, since he knows this holiday is really rough on his older sister. (And yes, they're matching - they BOTH work in manual labor.)

Another example of Ulysses being really sweet. He set up a game of Simbles for him and his dad, but he called Bailey over to play with them. Willow eventually joined too. No kid left behind!

Jack seems to decide he wants the tent instead of his sleeping bag - and Christopher for some reason thinks it's appropriate to smoke a cigarette in the same room as Noah and his little sister?

I randomize everything in Basemental in all of my saves.

After this, everyone filed inside for some pizza. Kids were falling asleep in their chairs, though, so Willow announced that it was time to get some sleep.

Not even the guests were going to disobey her - she's scary when she's tired.

#I felt SO BAD for Bailey all day #she looked so sad #but Ulysses REALLY stepped up by always making sure she had someone with her #and kept involving her in activities with his dad #sims 4 #ts4 #the sims 4 #sims 4 100 baby challenge #100 baby challenge #s: jill crabtree #s: ulysses crabtree #s: noah crabtree #s: bailey crabtree #s: willow crabtree #s: jack crabtree #s: charlotte crabtree #s: christopher michaelson #s: kyle kyleson #s: darrel charm

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thewheepingwillow · 1 year

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Lovesick

Hello. My name's Willow. I've had a crush since... I have no idea. We met at school.

His classroom is just next to mine. He is a year older but that doesn't change anything. The thing here is that... I'm in love with this guy.

He has a band! It's called heartstroke. He knows how to play a couple of instruments and let's just say.. I've always had this thing for "musicians".

So far my previous crushes either have a talent relating to music, or they know how to play instruments or be in a band. I don't know but I guess I've just got a thing for "music guys". Let's start talking about what kind of guy he is.

He is very friendly! He is extroverted. He has an older brother who is 2-3 years older. He is pretty funny. HE IS SO CUTEE!!!

So I first met him by the stairs. I wanted to say hi but instead my introverted self just stared at him nervously. I really wanted to get closer to him and be his friend.

My best friend's older sister is classmates with his brother. She is very nice. She helped me by giving me some info about him (not in a weird way I swear). As I got to know more stuff about him, I gained more interest in asking to be friends with him.

My shy self couldn't do it alone. My friend gave me his contact (since I asked). And so far we have gotten pretty close. We even decided to meetup at lunch! I kept asking if I would be a burden and if he was sure about it.

Why would he want to hangout with a random girl who wants to be his friend? He could just hangout with his other friends as always. But he really reassured me that it was no problem and that he wanted to get to know me too.

He really is a gentleman! He really tries to make people happy. When it was time for our meet, I went out of the classroom and braced myself. I am not social at all. I kept getting second thoughts. It took me ATLEAST 14 minutes before I went outside the doorway.

He was literally in front of the door at the other side. The only thing between us was the doorway. He was holding a guitar and playing a fun melody. "He must be practicing for his band to play at the upcoming event" I thought.

Some of his classmates were surrounding him and watching him play. His smile was adorable. When he saw me. He looked amused and excited.

He then stood up and brought his guitar with him. He was tall for his age. My height is literally until his shoulder. We went to a much more private and not so crowded spot. My friends really did follow me.

I think it weirded him out but in the same time he looked so joyful I'm not sure what to think. We talked and talked and got to know each other pretty well. He's adorable (I'm not sure how many times I said this).

After that day, We've gotten so much closer. Since it's periodical exams week, and our chairs are outside of the classroom since there's no more space since they had to separate them, we get to see each other. Don't forget that our classrooms are just beside each other. Once I finished answering my test, I glanced at him and he hadn't finished his yet.

The way he reacts is just... Amazing. Everything he does is amazing. When I finished the last exam for today, I looked over at him.

We made eye contact. I then looked away as fast as I can, it can be normal right? Just a little glance... After a moment, I looked at him again. And he was still looking.

Every school day, we don't really talk since I don't do the first step ad he talks with his other friends. All we have is eye contact and he greets me too.

Why does he keep staring at me? I usually catch him staring. My classmates catch him staring at me too. They keep teasing me about it.

What could it mean? I have no idea

#crush #love #help #inlove #lovesick

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erinevrly · 3 years

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❛ CONTINUED FROM HERE . 🌻 ┊ ( @rcsechild )

The last few months have been challenging and difficult for Erin, to say the least. Ever since their wedding in April, everything has been spiraling down, with a few ups here and there but nothing truly significant. She can count on the fingers of one hand the days when she was genuinely happy from the moment that she opened her eyes in the morning to the second she closed them at night. They always find something to bicker about, whether it’s something as unimportant as a leaky faucet or something that originates from a much bigger issue like random outbursts of jealousy and anger. There’s always some sort of tension between them and it’s driving her insane. She thinks of running away so often that every time her eyes flicker to the ring on her finger, she can’t help but feel repulsed. Especially when she reminds herself that it’s no longer just the two of them — they’re having a baby and the timing couldn’t possibly be worse. Willow Amelia will be here in a few weeks and their marriage is hanging by a thread. She doubts it can last until the end of September, let alone the beginning of November.

There’s a lot of stress and pressure on both of them. Despite Erin’s best efforts, this pregnancy has been anything but a joyful ride, especially the third trimester. Summers in California are usually hot and dry. Born and raised in the Valley, the curly-haired brunette has grown used to the heat index being above the 90s. However, this particular summer is unlike anything she’s ever experienced. Her feet swell almost every single day, her back and legs ache constantly, she has to go to the bathroom every twenty minutes and even after hours and hours of nothing but frustrations, she rarely gets any sleep at night. She suffers from insomnia. All she does when the sun goes down is toss and turn and waddle to the bathroom. But the worst part about this whole ordeal? She feels like she’s alone. She can’t truly count on anyone because no one understands what she’s going through. She’s tired and grouchy and easily irritated, and all the hormonal changes in her body only pour more gasoline over the already burning fire.

However, despite acting selfish so often, Erin does understand that there’s a lot on Axl’s plate as well right now. She’d have to be blind to fail to notice how frustrated he can get. With Steven no longer in the band, their house still up on the market, the crazy neighbor calling the cops on them every time they as much as raise their voices, the amount of stress that the redhead most likely experiences on a daily basis must be immeasurable. Unfortunately, instead of making things easier for him, his wife is doing the exact opposite and unintentionally only making his life more difficult. That’s when guilt sets in. They should be cherishing every moment that they get to spend together, they should be thankful that their baby is alive and growing . . . Usually, they do anything but that.

So, when Axl shakes her awake one morning, the last thing that she expects is a surprise trip. The vacation that they both clearly need and deserve. When she opens her eyes and sees the suitcases, the very first thing that comes to her mind is — he’s finally had enough, he’s leaving. Her features light up all at once when he informs her that they’re going to the airport together. When they touch down in Indianapolis, Erin is no longer the grouchy, frustrated beast that she’d been the past few weeks. There’s a bright smile on her face and an almost unfamiliar feeling in her heart — hope. Maybe, just maybe, everything will work out and this will be the new beginning. The change that they’ve both been waiting and praying for. Their plane arrives late in the evening, which is why they decide to stay the night at a hotel in Indianapolis, get some much-needed rest and start exploring the next morning.

That’s how they find themselves in a car, heading in the direction only known to the redhead. For the first time in months, Erin is completely relaxed and actually feeling good. One could even say that she’s glowing again. “So . . . We should play a game, you know? I’ll try to guess where we’re going and if I’m right, you’ll buy me a milkshake when we get there,” she playfully suggests, reaching over the console and turning the music down just enough for them to hear one another. She opens her mouth and is about to share one of her assumptions with the redhead when something distracts her. She jolts up in her seat like an overjoyed toddler and squeaks, “oh, my goodness! Look at all these cows, Axy! Aren’t they so cute? Why aren’t they black and white, though? I thought all cows were black and white.” Giggling, she points at a large herd of cows outside and waves at them. “Moo!” She calls out just to be even more obnoxious and make the other laugh. “I don’t think they understand me, Axy. You should try. This one could be your twin sister. She just hasn’t grown her bangs as long as yours yet.”

#rcsechild #☆┆ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ·ʀᴇ ɪɴ ɴᴇᴇᴅ ᴏғ sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴍʏ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛ ᴡᴏɴ·ᴛ ᴅᴇɴʏ ʏᴏᴜ.┆( 1990. )#i hope this is okay 💖💖💖💖💖#let me know if you want me to change stuff around #i remember us talking about how axl wanted to surprise erin with a trip to lafayette and so i just snatched that idea jsndkjf #erin: why aren't these cows black and white? what's wrong with them?#she's a valley girl through and through smh she thinks there's only one breed of cows they're all holsteins to her #me: i'm gonna write a serious starter #erin: moooooo #at least axl knows what road trips with baby s will be like lol #im excited :')#can you believe this is the thread in which baby s will be born im jfkdsjkjfsd HOW they're children themselves omgosh

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fermented-writers-block · 3 years

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PART 1 of 6 of the Owl Deity Hooty Theory

[NEXT PART]

[OWL DEITY HOOTY THEORY MASTERPOST] (in development)

(TLDR at bottom of post)

Over several long months of research and analysis since March of 2020, I have been following an utterly fascinating thread of potential misdirection and subtle details throughout The Owl House, and today, I would like to start weaving together of what I believe could become one of the biggest and most cleverly disguised twists in the entire show.

To begin, let’s take a look at the B plot of Understanding Willow:

On first glance, it’s an ultimately inconsequential sidestory with the sole purpose of justifying an excuse to keep Luz and Amity in Willow’s mind, as well as providing some well-needed room to breathe and release tension after the veryemotionally charged confrontation with Inner Willow. After half an episode of Eda and King outdoing the other in ridiculous ways to win Gus’ vote and Gus running off in frustration at the end of the episode from Hooty’s inane rambling, it’s easy to laugh off Gus’ pick and assume that nothing/of value was said when he closed the door for the interview.

However, if one pays close attention to that very scene, Hooty actually canstill be heard (if faintly) underneath Eda and King’s grumbling, interestingly talking about how “It all started with a hunt. Blood red skies. That’s right, I was created-.”

Now, while it may seem silly to focus on dialogue from Hooty of all characters, this A) tells us that there was an event in the past involving blood red skies and a hunt of some kind, B) that Hooty had been created close to said event, and C) implies that what he knows but can’t tell as a story worth a damn is EXTREMELY important to be included and be hidden in such a manner.

For comparison, the only other instance of dialogue being tucked away in the background in the entire show is in Wing It Like Witches:

During the lecture at the beginning of the episode, the history teacher openswith lore on Belos appointing a head witch to each coven over 50 years ago, immediately cluing in the audience to try and decipher the rest of the lecture as it moves to the background. Adding to this is how the musical sting when Luz shows off her movie obscures what he says even further, making it even more of a intriguing puzzle that the creators clearly intended for viewers to pick up on and attempt to solve.

In contrast, the hidden dialogue of Hooty’s interview is much shorter and not as hard to decipher as the teacher’s history lesson, but at the same time, there are few to no indicators whatsoever in that scene to clue in the audience to even check for something like that. It comes at the end of an episode where most viewers would have been paradoxically tired out and driven abuzz by the revelations of Amity and Willow’s relationship, doesn’t attempt to draw much attention to itself, and frames itself as a comedic subversion of audience expectations with neither the “greatest witch who ever lived” or the self-proclaimed king of demons being picked by Gus.

Instead, he picks someone that the show portrays constantly as an oblivious and gullible idiot after being described as a “state of the art defense system” at the very beginning of the series. Someone who, despite it being played for laughs, is scarily capable of casually subduing Lilith offscreen one episode and then beating her and an entire squad of Emperor’s Coven members without even the slightest change in personality or temperament.

Someone who, due to being the Owl House itself, could be considered the titular character of the entire show, yet is taken for granted by those who inhabit him and barely gets any respect from even the cutely patronized King - including when Hooty could be interpreted as having potentially been full on DEAD for a time given the use of extremely cartoony X eyes and a lack of vital signs in The Intruder.

And someone who Eda at best tolerates and at worst abandons in personal interactions and only occasionally acknowledges him when he’s actually doing his job. Yet at the same time is so implicitly trusted beyondprotecting her home to the point where - when up against the closest person Eda has to an equal outside of likely Belos - the only actually recognizable spells Eda used in combat were 1) stereotypical energy blasts, 2) a single shield spell in Covention, and 3) a noticeably large reliance on imitations of Hooty above any other spells she could have decided to use instead.

In short, the show repeatedly tells us he is just an idiotic gag character through and through, but at the same time demonstrates he has immense power through both onscreen and offscreen demonstrations, implicitly tells us his importance ahead of time through Eda’s imitations in actually serious situations, and treats his interview and origin story as - if not even more- important to keep secret than a long lore dump about how Belos’ reign works.

After all, there being only two instances of hidden background dialogue in the entire season is already intriguing on its own, but for one to get plenty of clues to draw in people’s attention and for the other to be treated as just another gag about a “mere comic relief character” - aka a good way to draw away attention and lower one’s guard - heavily suggests a far deeper significance buried under layers of misdirection, comedy, and conditioned audience expectations.

I mean, when Eda bragged about being “a bad girl living in a secret fortress,” Hooty followed with a remark about how “I’m the secret.” While that line may sound like Hooty simply being confused as part of a one-off on the surface, it’s an odd dialogue choice for the writers to pick when you think about all the other reminders of his nature as the house itself throughout the season. With the precedent these moments set, it would have been much more appropriate for him to latch onto the “fortress” side of “secret fortress” AND it would have been just as equally funny of a joke about his awareness skills, but instead, Hooty broke away from the established trend to say something that would make people suspicious were it to come from anyone else.

In a way, this reminds me much of the many subtle bits of foreshadowing strewn across the show, like Luz unknowingly describing Amity in Witches Before Wizards and Eda burning a hole through Luz’s coven type quiz that coincidentally selected the same track she had taken at Hexside as “a punky potionist.” At the time of airing, these initially seemed like one-off jokes, but eventually came back in full force several episodes later with Amity’s hidden sensitive feelings and love for the Azura books becoming clear in Lost in Language, and the reveal of Eda’s school track in Something Ventured, Someone Framed with her school misdemeanor pictures.

That said, compared to these individual bits of minor foreshadowing, the jokes about Hooty in Understanding Willow appear to simply be the most obvious pieces in a giant puzzle, implicitly and outright telling attentive viewers that there’s a major mystery to be uncovered here.

In fact, I feel bold enough to say that we could be looking at a twist on a similar scale to that of the Pink Diamond/Rose Quartz and Stanford Pines twists in Steven Universe and Gravity Falls respectively, what with this particular puzzle piece coming from how Gus wanted to make THE greatest interview of all time, and how he was looking for someone who was “interesting, accomplished, AND noteworthy:”

Note the emphasis on the ‘and’ here, as Gus had made a big deal that “people aren’t meantto be all those things” at the beginning of the episode, so as a result, stripping away all the comedic framing of his subplot leaves the intriguing implication that whoever - and, perhaps, what- Hooty is, they really are the most interesting, accomplished, AND noteworthy person out of everyone.

I could go further and talk about why I suspect the mystery surrounding King’s origins, whether true or not, is partially meant to misdirect us from paying attention to Hooty, or how the TOH crew’s could be disguising legitimate clues to his nature among made up and highly meme-able joke answers in order to proliferate said concepts throughout the fandom - thus letting us do all the dirty work of getting ourselves used to the ideas and used to dismissing them at the same time - but to bring things to a close for now, I’d like to leave you all with a question that I’ll start answering next time:

What does it mean when both the most powerful and notorious witch on the Boiling Isles and the possible actual king of demons/the Titan itself/something don’t match up to a house? And what do you think it is that makes him so special to warrant such misdirection?

TLDR: Between Eda’s golem spells, the show stressing his nature as the titular house, his implicit strength, and the odd dialogue and structure of Understanding Willow‘s subplot in relation to him, I believe I have good reason to suspect the show has been giving us many hints towards Hooty being much, much more important than it would like us to currently believe or even joke about. Particularly, through clever uses of comedy to establish and enforce a strong audience bias against looking closely at him or unironically taking him seriously, and to potentially plant the seeds for something I will start exploring in Part 2.

#the owl house #the owl house theory #owl house theory #the owl house speculation #toh theory #the owl house hooty #toh speculation #owl deity hooty theory #long post

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boldlyvoid · 3 years

Text

Amoreena | Chapter Five

Chapter Five

main summary: Heaven is a real place and it's located exactly 14.6 miles away from the FBI, Quantico Headquarters. Off behind a small park, under a fantastical willow tree surrounded by wildflowers, in every colour young minds can imagine.

Don't forget, heaven also comes with angels.

Chapter Summary: (fluff only) weekly Saturday reading only they are joined by an extra 15 lost boys, not just Spencer

Warnings (adding as they happen): fluff, hurt/comfort, depressed spencer, reader has a daughter, falling in love, strangers to lovers, library smut, oral (female receiving) lots and lots of fluff

word count: 3K

from the beginning <3

He woke up Saturday morning to the sound of a bunch of voices coming from beyond the walls of his room. Only it wasn’t his room, it was the room he slept in when he stayed with Y/N and Amoreena, he hasn’t left since he arrived on Thursday and he had no plan to either.

They still hadn’t told her about their relationship, not wanting her to come crawling into bed with her mom in the morning to find Spencer there too. She wasn’t ready to explain to Amoreena what it meant for Spencer to be in her bed, how they were in love and that she might need to learn how to knock before entering.

So he slept in the spare room, completely contently because he knew she was only on the other side of the wall, instead of 30 minutes away like she would be when he slept at his own apartment.

It had been a week since he saw them reading in the park, and now they were his family. It was incredibly fast, anyone who heard the news would say so. But that’s how his life worked, he blew through everything incredibly fast, it only made sense for him to skip every step in the book and become a stepdad overnight.

He woke up then, missing Y/N and Amoreena as he thought about the last week. Finally getting dressed and peaking outside, through the crack in the blinds, to see what was going on on the farm.

There were a bunch of men in the field with the cows dropping new cattle off in a big truck as a bunch of children ran around the yard. Y/N wasn’t kidding when she said her 7 siblings had produced 15 cousins for Amoreena to play with. Children all between the ages of toddler and 7-years-old, screaming while they ran after Rufus and the cats, it was a pure dopamine rush to witness.

He found Y/N in the living room, a book in one hand and a coffee in the other, “good morning cutie, all the ruckus on the farm wake you up?” She did her best fake southern accent as she smiled at him. Beautiful as ever in the early morning sunshine.

He nodded with a yawn, sitting beside her and snuggling into her shoulder. She placed her mug in his hands so she could wrap an arm around him and pull him in closer, letting him take a sip of coffee and become a real person again.

He noticed she was reading a book he had never seen before, reading the pages and not know the words. It was a first for him.

“What’s that one about?”

Y/N closed it to let him look at the cover. It was a hand-bound book, wrapped in green fabric that was at least 30 years old and in well-loved condition. The gold lettering reading Amoreena, along with a pressed gold rose and the author's name. He had never heard of it before.

“My grandma was an aspiring writer and the reason I love books so much, her name was Peggy and she had a dream once about a wonderful little girl named Amoreena and the magical life she created for herself. She wrote it all down and my grandpa had it typed and bound for her, she was so proud of this book,” Y/N gushed, smiling as she held it to her chest softly, thinking of all the memories Spencer didn’t know yet.

“Really?” Spencer couldn’t help but smile at her.

She nodded softly, “she loved Elton John, so much so that when my sister Ashley came out she threw her a party. Almost all those kids out there are Ashley's, by the way, she went down the adoption and foster root after I did IVF.”

She pointed out the front window at all the people gathered on her land, “Ben and Dylan dropped their kids off too while they help dad and Evan with the farm. Those are my brothers in case you didn’t know their names yet, there’s also Carver and Francis but they don’t live as close.”

Her little life was just so perfect, “did they want to come with us to read this afternoon? We need some lost boys.”

“They’d love that, are you sure you can handle 16 kids between the two of us?” she smiled, pure love spreading through her body as she held him.

“They’re not so different from psychopaths right?” He teased, watching her settle against him even more as they enjoyed their Saturday together.

“What else can you tell me about your grandma?” He snuggled into her more as he asked, wanting to know as much about her happiness as possible.

“She was always listening to music, she loved Elton's song Amoreena the most. It was the song she played for the majority of my childhood. It only made sense for me to name my little miracle Amoreena too, cause I wouldn’t have her unless nanny suggested I have a baby.”

“I would have loved to meet her.”

Y/N’s smile changed then, “she would have loved you and your big mind.”

“My mom wants to meet you and Amoreena,” he announces softly, he hasn’t really told her anything about his family yet.

“What’s she like?”

“She has schizophrenia and Alzheimer’s and she lives in a care home in DC right now, I try and see her when I can but she has her own schedule so I have to fit around when she’s having a good day,” it was hard to explain it to most people, but not to her. He didn’t feel any shame or fear in introducing them. Y/N was the most loving human, and Amoreena was just the same.

“When is she free next?” A simple question that made him feel incredibly giddy.

“Tuesday from 3-5,” he snuggled in closer to her as she wraps her arm around him.

“We’ll pick Amoreena up from school after work and take her over,” Y/N agreed, their lives intertwining like they were always meant to.

Like she was the ivy on his old cottage, she took him in and made him her own, wrapping herself all around him and never letting him go again.

He basically finishes her coffee while she holds him on the couch. The sound of the kids outside making them laugh every once in a while, dogs barking and cows mooing, the farm was alive and roaring while they enjoyed each other's company.

“Did you bring your costume for the reading today?”

He sat right up then, looking at her like she lost her mind, “of course I did, I wouldn’t have Penelope spend a week tracking down a Captain Hook costume just to forget it.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped, “you didn’t?!”

He simply nodded with a cheeky grin, “come on Tinker Bell, everyone knows she had a thing for Hook.”

“Who didn’t? He was the first and last bad boy I was interested in, I typically go more for Milo’s and Ariel’s; full of adventure and always learning something new,” Y/N teased him.

“Mhm, I always had a thing for Aladdin and Belle in search of far off lands and happy endings,” he mused, making her smile just as much as he was, “but for real it was between Hook and Wendy for my costume,” he made her laugh again, wanting to hear it for the rest of time.

“You still can, I have a blue nightgown you can borrow,” it was so easy for them to flirt, it fit into their conversation so simply it felt like they had been together forever.

He couldn’t help leaning in to kiss her, resting her back against the couch softly as she held onto him. He loved kissing her, she tasted like coffee and happiness every single time. She made the cutest sounds when they would make out like she was surprised by it or she wasn’t used to it at all.

She made him feel like he was young again like he was 21 and in love for the first time. All his trauma disappeared and that Spencer who used to stare back at him in the mirror was gone now. That guy packed his bags and left the farm to never be seen again.

Good fucking riddance is all he had to say.

He was happy, he enjoyed being happy and he was going to stay happy. It was the only goal he had going forward, and as long as he was in her embrace, surround by the laugher of her child and family, he knew it would be possible.

Amoreena came running inside then, finding the two of them making out on the couch before they could part from each other.

“Ewww!” She cried, jumping on top of the two of them and knocking the wind out of Spencer.

“Get off,” Y/N tried to speak as she was crushed by the two of them. “Mom down!”

Spencer picks Amoreena up then, taking her away from the couch and spinning her around like she’s an airplane. She cheers and cheers and doesn’t want him to put her down because it’s so fun. The next thing he knows he’s being dragged outside to twirl all the kids around like they’re Peter Pan, flying through the air on their way to Neverland.

He’s surrounded by giggles and tickles fights, he’s tackled down against the dirt as a herd of tiny children dog pilled him. Laughing until he cried, feeling more joy than humanly possible and then Y/N’s telling them all to get ready to he’d to the park.

Coming down the stairs in a pirate costume to a bunch of screaming kids was an experience and a half. Spencer couldn’t believe how happy it made them all to imagine Captain Hook had broken into the house and Amoreena, or Peter Pan as she corrected him, chased him outside with all the lost boys.

He took a moment to learn all their names, all 15 of them, however, unlike the cats, they had relatively normal people names.

Kate, Cade, Jet, Lauren, Cassie, Sara, Evan, Benny, Olivia, Jessie, Owen, Maddie, Gwen, August, and Parker, were the cutest little family of cousins. some looked like Amoreena, some looked like their own mothers, a handful of them were adopted out of the country, they were the most perfect cast of lost boys.

He's never had any cousins, no pets, no siblings. His life never felt lonely until he realized what he missed out on.

“Dad,” Amoreena whispered as she tugged on his shirt lightly, “look!”

She pointed towards the house where Y/N was standing. When she said she was going as Tinker Bell he really didn’t think she meant looking exactly like Julia Roberts at the end of Hook.

She looked magical in her beautiful white dress, curly hair with the most perfectly placed flowers and flawless wings wrapped around her shoulders. She was a vision standing on the porch, waiting for him to pick his jaw up off the floor and compliment her.

“Tink,” the words are more like air, soft and barely there.

“Is Captain Hook being nice? Or should we take him to the pond and let the Alligators deal with him?” Y/N teased, marching down the stairs and poking Spencer's chest.

“Ouch,” he teased her, holding his hand over his heart to make her feel bad.

But she didn’t, “some Pirate you are,” she teased, sticking her tongue out at him before taking Amoreena’s hand and running off down the trail towards the main house, everyone following her lead.

Nanny packed enough snacks for all 16 kids, and a little extra just in case. Spencer slipped the lunch box over his shoulder and they made their way towards the adventure. Y/N pulling a wagon just in case the littlest ones didn’t want to walk anymore. It was spectacular.

Y/N stopped then, pretending to stand like an army man turning around abruptly to look at the troop. “Lost boys, are we ready?”

“Yes, Tinker Bell!” They cheered back.

“On my lead, 1, 2, 1, 2, 3, 4,” she marched, bringing her knees up high as they all followed her down the path. “We’re following the leader, the leader, the leader,” she began to sing.

Spencer was in awe, his heart felt like it was going to explode as he watched everyone follow her. Singing along as they marched their tiny little butts down to the park.

“We’re following the leader wherever she may go!” Amoreena yelled the lyrics back, leading the pack as Peter Pan should.

“Tee dum, tee dee, a teedle ee do tee day Tee dum, tee dee, it's part of the game we play Tee dum, tee dee, the words are easy to say Just a teedle ee dum, a teedle ee do tee day

Tee dum, tee dee, a teedle ee do tee dum We're one for all, and all of us out for fun We march in line and follow the other one With a teedle ee do, a teedle ee do tee dum”

It was like magic, they all knew the words and they sang the whole way down the path. Every verse and then repeating it. Not a single kid strayed from the path, no one complained about sore feet or hot backs, they loved their Aunty Y/N and so did Spencer.

“We’re off on an adventure, adventure, adventure,” Y/N changed the words, making him smile as she brought happiness into the world. “We’re off on an adventure to read out in the sun! Tee dum, tee dee, a teedle ee do tee day…”

Every single time he thought she had given him the best day of his life, she manages to outdo herself.

—

They barely listened to the story, it was a disaster of epic proportions but they tried. 15 kids is a lot to handle as an ex FBI agent and a librarian, they had lunch and instead ran around the field playing lost boys instead. It was still an amazing afternoon.

He was going to be covered in bruises the next morning. He had been kicked, poked, trampled, jumped on, the whole 9 yards. They were the most energetic bunch in the whole world, and then they came home to ice cream.

“Y/N,” Spencer finally pulled her aside when all the kids were preoccupied with their cold snack after a hot day.

“Yes, cutie?” It was a nickname that was sticking, much like pretty boy, and he didn’t mind it at all.

“We’re going to need more than 2 songs tonight to get her to go to bed,” he teased, stepping into that step-dad role with ease.

She couldn’t stop smiling at him, wrapping him up in her arms gently so he didn’t crush her fairy wings. “We’ll take her swimming, that’ll tire her out instead. Are you lookin’ for some alone time?”

“I love her dearly, but I can’t kiss you as much when she’s around,” he whispered before pecking her quickly and hearing the group of lost boys pretend to be sick.

“Just because he’s my dad doesn’t mean you have to be gross like your mom and dad, mom,” Amoreena’s smart mouth making them both shake their heads and laugh.

“What would you do if I did this?” Y/N teased before dipping Spencer back like a princess and kissing him, he stuck his foot out in shock as she held him there.

“Ewww!!” All the kids yelled as she returned him to his feet.

“Or this?” Y/N pulled him into another kiss, her leg popping like Princess Mia’s in the princess diaries.

Amoreena and her cousins were all screaming then, laughing at how gross their aunt and her new boyfriend were being. Used to it clearly, their grandparents were just as in love and watching from the porch as they held each other on the swing.

“I love you,” Spencer announced, loud enough for all to hear without a care in the world.

“You better,” she smiled. “I love you too, cutie,” she added before kissing him one last time.

His life felt perfectly complete.

Y/N’s brothers were incredibly kind just like her. He learned that Ashley was the oldest with 5 kids and her wife Susie, then Ben who was 46 and his wife Shannon, they had 3 kids. Dylan and Laurie had 4 and Even, her twin brother had 3.

Turns out her mom had 2 sets of twins back to back, 7 children and only 5 pregnancies. It felt crazy for him to think about having that many people in his life for his whole life, he wouldn’t have known what to do with anyone more than just his mother growing up.

Spencer helped Bob with the barbecue, they made burgers and hotdogs for all 16 of the children while they continued to run through the fields. They had enough energy to last them 5 straight days of chaos. It was amazing.

Y/N and Spencer managed to wander off while all the kids ate, sitting under a tree with their dinner so they could finally have some time alone together.

She was beautiful, sitting in the afternoon amber glow as she tried to keep her hair from blowing in her face. Tucking the strands behind her ears so she could eat her dinner in peace before spencer handed her the hair tie on his wrist. Then she got ketchup on her cheek, seemingly on purpose as she smiled at him and laughing as Spencer wiped it off with his thumb. He was so in love he felt stupid, smiling at her like he’s never seen another person before, absolutely enamoured.

“Derek and his wife wanted to come over tomorrow and have his son meet Amoreena if that’s okay?”

Her face lit up, “his son is the one named after you right? Not your godson?”

He nodded with yet another smile, his lips were going to fall off at this point. “Yeah, he’s the sweetest little guy, Hank’s never been to a farm before.”

“You tell them our gates are always own to new minds and pure hearts,” she smiled. “That’s what nanny used to say.”

He leans in and kisses her then, resting his forehead against hers as she held his cheek in her free hand, smiling ever so softly as she stared into his eyes, they didn’t need words, he knew she loved him too. A week of pure bliss had passed within the blink of an eye, and they still had forever to go.

Taglist: @shemarmooresfedora @spookyspence @spencers-dria @manuosorioh @reidsfish @mochionly (send me an ask if you want to be added to the tag list, I don't always see every reply! i love you guys thank you so much for reading)

#spencer reid #spencer reid smut #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x you #spencer reid self insert #spencer reid request #criminal minds smut #criminal minds imagine #amoreena

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thesmokingguns · 3 years

Text

Picnic in the Park

Pairing: Axl Rose x Reader

Word Count: 2128

Fluff

Request Summary: “Axl rose meets a girl threw slash who is his childhood friend whos also an amazing painter and just is infatuated with how pretty she is and he just follows her around like a puppy.Tan skin brown hair that goes to lower back brown eyes, wears alot of cute sun dresses and is very kind”

A/N: I am catching up on requests. So if you have requested anything in the past week or so thag oiece should be coming out soon. Thanks everyone for reading

Tag list: @ayablackwood @agroupiewhore @thenobodies-inc @littlemisscare-all

Your mind was a mixture of light and dark, complimentary colors, and images burned into your mind that you wanted to paint later. If there wasn’t a brush in your hand you were taking notes with a pencil, sketching the world around it through eyes that only you saw it from. You captured everyday life like the older woman with the mesh bag she had filled with fruit or the man with his red beard, a few weeks unkept, napping in the alley to get a break from the heat. You took these people, characters of the world and had them live forever on the canvas you painted on.

Art was your passion. You loved walking around Hollywood with a set of watercolors or a notebook to sketch in and take in the lives of others. There was some sort of poetic feeling of taking a stranger from the street and importilizing them as a character in your art. You created a narrative for them that they may not be living. It was cathartic and you’d spend hours of your day people watching until you finally found the right subject.

Sketching out a bump on someone's nose that might have come from a childhood accident or from their Freshman year of college when they drunkenly fell down the front steps of the dorm, you created their unknown life story as you placed each line of their face into place. If you didn’t infuse their story into the piece it was just some colorful person without any meaning. But you wanted to give the viewer of your art a full piece. They should be able to look at your picture and understand the life that the subject lived; your art created that life.

It was crazy to think that a few years before you were in school thinking about becoming an English teacher.It was a chance meeting at a grocery store when you ran into your old friend Saul’s mother. When you had been kids the pair of you had been so close and secretly your mothers had both had fingers crossed for a wedding that never happened. The pair of you split apart the summer after senior year to set out of a life you each wanted. His mother had invited you over for dinner, which she also invited her son to, thrusting the pair of you back into each other's lives.

Oddly enough, it was like time hadn’t passed between you. The easiness of your friendship coming back without even trying and soon the pair of you were hanging out on almost a daily basis. With your schedule up helped manage his house, buying groceries, doing some cleaning, and running a few errands he never remembered. In return you had a few rooms to yourself. Slash had wanted to make sure you had time for your art as well as a space for it.

Dressing in a white floral pattern sundress you grabbed your bag that contained your art supplies. You wanted to get to the park early and set up a blanket you could spend the day sketching and painting on. You planned to soak up the sun in your skin and use the good lighting to get some new work to sell for the craft fair this weekend. As you turned to grab the picnic foods you had made the night before you saw Axl sitting at the counter. His green eyes looked up, smiling when he saw you.

“Hey, Y/N. Slash just left. I’m going to leave in a minute. I was just finishing up some lyrics.” he was always over and you thought that he was lonely in his role as lead singer. Even though Axl put on this tough guy imagine and had a reputation it was like he needed to work for that because he thought that was what rock stars were supposed to do. Whenever he was around you he seemed lost, always making extra conversation or taking the time to go walk to the coffee cafe with you and wait in line, even if he didn't want anything.

“I’m heading out for a day in the park.” you told him, moving the wax paper covered sandwiches into a small wicker basket, along with some fruit and cheese, some water, and a bottle of wine. You could feel his eyes on you, “I’m over packing and have more than enough if you want to come with me?” you let your eyes flutter up from packing the basket to look at him. “I’ll leave you alone to write because I’m just going to spend the time working on some new portraits.” It was important to you that you set up expectations. There was no need for him to feel like he was going there to entertain you or vice versa.

“I’d love to go. You don’t mind?” he asked as you finished packing up the wicker basket. You shook your head no, letting him pick up the food you had just packaged and leading you outside, “What park did you want to go to? I can drive us there.” you told him what you were thinking, getting comfortable in the convertible.

When you had moved in with Slash you had forged fast friendships with his bandmates. Even though you weren’t at every show and didn't always go backstage you had gotten close to them in different ways. On Wednesday nights you hosted a dinner party where you made them all come by so you had an excuse to cook for them. When someone had a ripped piece of clothing at a show you’d quietly take out your sewing kit, stitching patches in jeans and repairing favorite band shirts. You liked being around them all because of how animated everyone was; they were so easy to draw. You had a whole sketchbook of black and white images from the band. Your favorite subjects were Slash and Axl, mainly because they were the two you were around the most and had the most flexibility when it came to moods.

Axl had grown close to you, drawn into the caring nature you had. It was hard for him to understand that someone would do things for him without expecting anything in return. The first time that you had been out drinking with them and insisted Axl came home with you so you knew he was safe he had thought was a come on. When you helped him drink water and gave him aspirin before tucking him into bed he was shocked. Even more shocking was waking up to find his clothes washed and folded on the guest room chair and you carrying in a breakfast tray of freshly made foods. That’s just how you showed you cared about your friends. Being the mother of the group and taking care of them helped you feel like you were contributing as a friend.

Spreading out the blanket under the Weeping Willow tree. You motioned for Axl to sit as you toed off your sandals and moved to sit down. Digging through your bag you set out your sketch pad and pencils. You could see Axl out of the corner of your eye. He didn’t seem to know what to do. You pulled him down to the blanket, settling him so he could rest his back against the tree. You pulled off his shoes and socks and handed him his notebook as you went about unpacking your picnic so he could pick at food if he wanted to.

With him settled in the shade you laid down, belly first in the sun. Picking up your pencil you scanned the park until you found an older man feeding the pigeons. Your eyes followed his movements for a few minutes before you started your sketch. The feeling of the warm sun on the back of your thighs as you twirled the pencil in your hand, capturing all the features of the man.

As you drew you could feel Axl’s eyes on you. At first it was just light glances every few minutes and then it turned to heavy long looks where his eyes were watching you. Ignoring the way his stares made you blush, chalking up the pinkness in your cheeks as just sun exposure.

A hand slid over your calf, over the back of your thighs before going over your dress and laying on the flat of your back. You turned your face upward looking at Axl watching you. His eyes flickering from your art up to your face. There was a pause, curiosity and interest in what he was going to do next. Your heart is beating in your chest even though your body is frozen, wondering what he was up to.

“Do you want to take a break and eat? You’ve been working for a couple hours.” Looking past him you saw the sun had changed position in the sky and time had gotten away from you. Sitting up you handed out sandwiches, positioning yourself comfortably besides him in the shade of the tree.

Axl had been following you for most of the spring and now into summer. He's around all the time and often comes along for days like this. But you liked having him around. You thought that he needed the quiet comfortable silence between the pair of you; so much of his life was filled with noise.

“Y/N, do you like this?” He asked, peeling off the crust to his sandwich. The action seemed to be more of a need to keep his hands busy instead of a dislike for the bed.

“Do I like this? Picnics in the park?” You didn’t know exactly what he meant. Axl sometimes seemed to talk in riddles not wanting to fully play all of his cards.

“Being with me.” He didn’t look up to meet your eyes at this, almost embarrassed to be talking about it. You weren’t like Axl. There was no need to talk in riddles or have him guessing how you felt.

“Of course I like having you around, Axl. It’s nice to be able to spend time with someone I like.” He looked up, almost surprised that someone would like to be around him. “I’ve had a crush on you for a few months and it’s nice to get to know you more and find more reasons to like you.” You didn’t feel nervous telling him this. It actually felt like a relief to get it off your chest.

He put down his sandwich, wiping crumbs off on his shirt and looking at his hands to make sure that they were clean. Before you could figure out what he was going to do he had a hand in your hair, tugging you closer to him in a soft kiss. For months you had been thinking about what it would be like to kiss him on one of your lazy afternoons together and now it was happening.

Instead of letting him pull away and think about what he had just done you slid onto his lap, letting your hands wrap around him. His free hand was on your back holding you close as the pair of you made out like teenagers under the shade of the willow tree.

Finally, the pair of you pulled away, swollen plush lips and wild curious eyes watching each other. This new change between the pair of you sparkling like wonder between the pair of you. Axl was playing with a piece of your hair, wrapping the brown lock around his finger like he had been wanting to do for months.

“Does this mean we can finally start dating?” You asked, watching the way he smirked at this question. “Because I don’t know how many more times you can just casually show up without Slash catching on. And I don’t know how many more picnics I can plan without touching you.” You admitted, his lips were on your chin and up your jaw.

“Mhhh, I’ve been waiting for this for so long and now I can have you all to myself.” His voice whispered huskily to you kissing your earlobe. He pulled away to look at you again. “You have to tell Slash.” He said, making you laugh as you rolled your eyes. If that’s what it would take to have Axl you didn’t mind telling your best friend about the relationship.

“You take care of me and I’ll take care of everything else, babe.” You promised, meaning it. This was everything that you had wanted for months and now you were getting it. The man that you had started falling for was yours. It had only taken months worth of picnics to get him.

#Axl gnr #axl rose #axl rose fanfiction #axl rose x ofc #axl rose fan fic #axl rose head canon #axl rose x reader #axl rose gnr #axl rose one shot #axl rose fanfic #axl rose imagine #Axl rose Guns N’ Roses #Axl roses headcanon #Axl oneshot #fluff #fluff writing #request #Axl rose x you

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peppdream · 3 years

Text

Welcome to the final conclusion of “Home”! This is just a collection notes, interesting thoughts, and answers to questions some of you guys might have for the story!

A reminder to not read on if you haven’t read to the end of the fic yet 🙏 Major spoilers ahead!!

First off, starting with the layout of Sapnap’s shop! This is sort of the general gist I had in mind while writing the story:

It’s a really rough diagram and probably not architecturally sound for a plethora of reasons, but I thought I might as well include it here for the sake of having it ^^

I’ve also included a timeline so you guys can understand the order in which everyone became acquainted! (it’s a very general timeline, so excuse any inconsistencies)

In case you missed it, the reason Toby’s friend (Tommy) was “missing” in Ch4 was because he’d been taken away to complete his witch training! :)

Next, a couple fun facts for the making of this story!:

Bad’s original Mark was going to be fangs, but I eventually decided horns would be cuter~

The geese George pet in Ch6 were originally rabbits, and the appearance of swans in Ch8 was a replacement for a whole-ass deer. I just changed them all to birds in the end to make the story more cohesive!

I debated several times into making George a nature boi instead of an animals boi (for the good ‘ol mushroom bit), but I stuck with the vet witch in the end ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Ch17 was never supposed to exist! I wrote it as filler so I could reach the satisfying 20-chapter mark...

Why the constant reoccurrence of dandelions? Well, I read somewhere that was George’s favorite flower ^^

Why a willow tree? Because they’re the best trees, obviously~ (Go lie under a willow tree some time — you’ll see what I mean!)

And finally, some questions a lot of you must have (and also ones you didn’t even think of, probably):

Why did George lose his memories? The spell affects customers. If you come to the shop with the intention of finding something, you are a customer, and will be affected by the spell (regardless of whether you’re human or a witch).

This distinction was not entirely clear to the characters of the story, because they’d never encountered a situation before where a witch left a magic shop as a customer. This makes sense, granted that magic shops do not target witches as viable customers.

So why didn’t George lose his memories the first time he came to the shop? Part of the agreement between the shop and the customer is that the spell will erase their memories once they have been given what they came for. When George left the shop the first time with his new glasses in tow, the shop mistakenly believes George is satisfied and lets him go (and the memory-wiping spell does not activate). When George is lured back, however, the shop realizes that George is looking for something more than just a pair of glasses, and bars him from leaving until he finds it.

What was George looking for? A lot of you believed it was love/acceptance/home that George was looking for, and those were all very good guesses! What George was ultimately searching for, however, was a way to safely release the magic inside him and become a witch.

What part did Patches play in all this? A lot of you seem confused about what Patches actually did in Ch18. For one, she tried to lead George to his room so that he could sleep next to the dream doll. When he didn’t follow her, she personally brought the dream doll to George herself so that Luca would warn him about his powers in his dreams. She also physically ran to Bad’s place. While she and Dream do have some telepathic methods of communication, it only works within a reasonable distance.

Does George ever get his memories back? Never completely, but occasionally, yes. I like to think of George’s memory loss as akin to the feeling you get when you’re trying really hard to remember a dream you’ve forgotten. If you concentrate hard on recalling it, you won’t succeed, but if as you’re doing something irl and that activity reminds you of what you dreamed, you will remember only that portion of the dream.

What are the specifics of George’s powers? He can talk to, understand, and telepathically communicate with all living things (other than plants). He has trained his magic to automatically filter out conversations not directed at him or words said to him with ill-intent, but he can also switch that ability on and off as he likes. (Unfortunately, this does not apply to people, because understanding humans is something the brain processes, and not magic-related).

What was Philza’s mark? Wings! Now whether I mean real wings or tattoos is up for you to decide~

What’s the point of the bouquet? Tommy is a green witch, specifically a florist. It’s his job to make bouquets. The only difference between George’s situation and a normal customer’s situation is that Tommy offers the bouquet without George asking for one. (In response to kotoritoririn, George was not a middle man for a bouquet delivery. The flowers were made for George, as signified by the flowers’ meanings.)

So did Tommy and Tubbo ever reunite or?? Tubbo did eventually find Tommy with the compass. In my mind though, Tubbo is purely a human, so they must’ve met somewhere outside the magic shop.

Tommy, don’t leave us hanging! What do the lilacs represent?? Go read “I’m A Dream Doll” and you will find your answer :)

And that’s everything! I hope you all enjoyed this last tribute to “Home”. I had so much fun reading your guys’ theories, and I’m honestly gonna miss them a ton. Thank you to everyone that tagged along for the ride. And if you’re a new reader, thank you as well! The fact that you’re here means you cared enough about my story to want to know everything about it, and that means a lot to me <3

If you’re sad about the fic ending, don’t be! If we just use George’s example, home can forever live on in our hearts :)

#home #fanfiction #dreamnapfound #dreamnotnap #dream #georgenotfound #sapnap #mcyt #dreamnotfound #georgenap #dreamnap

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moon-stars01 · 3 years

Text

First Impressions

Mingyu x Reader

Author:Deko

Summary:In which Mingyu is a regular and your positive your into him.

Gene:fluff,Swearing,Romance

Rating:General Audiences

~First Impressions~

You'd developed a crush.

One, which you'd hoped was fleeting because you only ever saw him around once a week whenever he'd come into your shop.

He was peculiar in the way he carried himself, he'd nestle himself in a corner and play with a trinket he found interesting and made himself laugh on plenty of occasions.

To others, you guessed, he might look half insane laughing to himself like that – but to you, you found it rather sweet.

Sweet, because he indulged in the company of himself. So few are lucky to have enough confidence to carry themselves freely without reserve or judgement, so while he struck you as peculiar, you also found him irresistibly charming for this fact alone.

He came up to you one day and completely shocked you out of your daydream – and you shuffled to hide your book to make it look like you were actually working.

He met your eyes, "Do you make this stuff?"

He pointed around the shop, and you tried to focus on the question but your mind was more drawn to the fact that his voice did not match his pretty face. You'd always imagined him more soft spoken.

"Y-yeah. Well, no" You exhaled slowly, calming yourself down. "Some. My dad makes most of it."

Ahh, wonderfully spoken. Beautifully enunciated.

He hummed in wonder, and you saw a faint smile trace his lips for a moment, before it disappeared.

He said nothing more and began to walk out of the shop.

You gasped, not wanting him to leave. He'd finally talked to you and that's all he'd had to say? The shop was empty so now was your chance to... say something, anything!

You leaned over the wooden counter, "My name's Y/N!" you half shouted, grasping onto the edge.

Really? Your name? That was the best you could do?

He turned around, eyes wide in wonderment, before they softened at the sight of you. "I'm Mingyu. See ya."

He shoved his hands in his pockets, walking away. He used his shoulder to push open the door and left the shop without another word.

You slumped back in your chair and took your book back out from its hiding spot, and tried to focus on the words. You were sour upon him leaving, his presence alone had always made you feel giddy, and the shop suddenly felt colder without him there.

—0–0–0–0–

The next day, Mingyu came in.

This shocked you because he never came in more than once a week; you wondered what must have been so important.

Shock was evident on your face, and when your eyes locked as he walked in the door he wore an unreadable expression.

You watched him out of the corner of your eye as you were stacking wooden toys and trinkets onto the shelves, and noticed that he wasn't acting the way he usually did. He seemed off.

You bit your lip and approached him quietly; he didn't look at you though, as you spoke into the air – only able to admire his side profile.

"Is there anything I can help you with?" You treaded carefully, sounding a little too meek for your liking. You didn't like the effect he had on you.

He looked to be lost in thought for a moment, before turning to look at you. "What kind of gifts do girls like?"

Your heart sank into the floor.

As your eyes trailed his face, gaze sweeping over his perfectly symmetrical features from his soft brown eyes to his pretty pink mouth you realised the insanity of your previous sentiments.

Of course he had a girlfriend, look at him for gods' sake.

You masked your sadness aptly, not wanting to make him uncomfortable. It wasn't as if he'd lead you on or anything, you'd just been living in your own delusions for far too long, allowing them to manifest into actual feelings.

"The things my father makes..." You walked ahead of him around the corner and through shelves, using your index finger to indicate you wanted to be followed, "Are good for tourists, and gifts for old people."

You lead him to a little corner of the shop, one that only stocked the things that you yourself had made. It was your father's idea.

"As for me, I like to make prettier things. Things other girls might enjoy." You used your hand to gesture up and down the shelf.

Mingyu looked at you for a moment with a quirked brow, and then set his gaze to the shelf.

You watched on as he reached out to touch the eclectic weeping willow you'd made. It had taken you forever to create, hence the maybe a little outrageous price tag. You'd had many customers grumpily try to haggle the price with you, but you were fond of it, maybe you didn't really want to let it go.

"You made this?" He questioned, gaze still on it. His long fingers were delicately tracing the decorative beading on it.

"Yes." You murmured shyly, clasping your hands behind your back.

"It must've taken you a long time." He noted.

"It did." You couldn't really think of much else to say, so you continued to watch his form.

He finally leaned up, as if breaking away from his transfixed state. You'd be lying if you said you weren't flattered.

"I'll take it, then."

You blinked up at him, "Are you sure?"

He raised his eyebrow at you, small smile playing on his lips.

He picked up the tree and set off towards the direction of the counter without another word, prompting you to follow.

You rushed ahead, pushing the small wooden entryway to go behind the counter, before meeting his eyes again.

He placed the item down and you looked back up at him, searching his face for any uncertainty.

"Can I ask you a question?" You murmured, avoiding his eyes.

He put his elbows on the counter and sat his head in his palms, watching you expectantly. "Sure."

Too close, he was too close!

You stepped back a fraction, hopefully to an unnoticeable degree. "Is the person this gift is for...special?"

The prying question left your mouth with little hesitation, and he too answered without it.

"Yes."

You watched as he pulled out his wallet and started fishing out notes, but you stopped him with your hand, lowering his gently.

"Then it's on me."

He looked at you, "Huh? No, I couldn't." He ignored you and set the money on the counter anyway.

"I made this a long time ago" You whispered gently, scanning the item to let the system know it was no longer in the store, "It's collecting dust here. You've also given us more business than I care to admit." Your tone was teasing when you looked up at him.

Again, his expression was unreadable.

"Would you like me to wrap it?" You asked, fighting down a sigh.

"Yes, please." His nice voice sent your heart into mini palpitations, and turned your stomach into a fluttering mess.

Stupid, traitorous body.

"Just a moment then." You took the item and walked into the back, exhaling deeply when you were out of ear shot.

You carefully wrapped the tree in bubble wrap, before setting it onto some pink wrapping paper and folding it all together nicely. You sealed it with tape before you heard the entry way doorbell ring.

You left the item in the back and wiped your dewy hands on your pinafore. Stepping out, you looked at the older woman who'd stepped into the store.

"Welcome!" You smiled at her, not familiar with her face. It was always customary to welcome newer customers, the regulars never cared quite so much.

She smiled back and set about the store, and you turned back around to go and retrieve the wrapped gift.

You brought it back out and noticed the money was still sitting on the counter, so while his attention was diverted in his zoned out state, you sneakily placed the money in the bottom of the paper bag, and put the wrapped gift on top of it – effectively hiding it.

"Here you go." You set the paper bag in front of him, and he took the handle and let it fall to his side.

"Thank you." He gave you a quick smile before heading out, and this time instead of using his hands like a normal person, or even his shoulder like he had the day before – he used his foot to push the door open and set out.

You watched his hair fly around in the wind as he stepped outside. The door shut and the bell jingled – leaving you to watch his figure through the glass doors.

His hair was so fluffy. You sighed, putting your elbow on the counter and resting your head in your palm. You wondered what it might be like to run your hands through it.

Sadly, though – that wouldn't happen any time soon. Any girl worth spending 89 dollars on an artisanal craft tree, must be special indeed. It seemed rather frivolous.

—0–0–0–0–

The next morning passed without any drama, and you found yourself during lunchtime nose deep in a book. This week had been slow, dreadfully slow – despite Mingyu and his more than occasional visits – to bring you out of the ordinary.

Your dreamlike state was shattered with a loud ringing of the entry bell, signifying the door had been opened with a little more force than necessary.

A gasp caught in your throat at the sight of Mingyu– and while you were overjoyed at his visit (3 days in a row was a new record) you couldn't help but notice the scowl on his face.

"Y/N."

He'd never said your name before, it sounded like heaven coming from him. But maybe a little bit of slipping from the clouds and plummeting down to earth kind of heaven because his tone was heated.

You watched as he rummaged through his pant pocket, before he pulled out a familiar wad of cash.

He unceremoniously dumped the notes onto the counter in front of you, and his eyes drew you to them, even though the first thing you wanted to do was look away.

"I said no. Why did you do that?" He sounded affronted, and he ran his pretty long fingers through his soft mop of hair to emphasize his frustration with you.

You wanted to say sorry, but you weren't. And if not for a faux apology, what were you supposed to say to that? So you kept quiet, hoping it would pass.

He narrowed his eyes at you sharply, and if gazes could kill...

"So, do you just go around giving away the things you make to anyone for free?" The angry set of his jaw was as frightening as it was handsome. You knew this boy – you'd been watching him for so long. His goofy, light-hearted demeanour could not be clouded with a foul mood.

And as if you were psychic, your silence seemed to stun him. He'd come in here hoping for a reaction and when he realised you weren't going to give him one it calmed him down. You watched as his tense stature relaxed, and his frown mellowed out.

"My sister loved the gift, by the way." His tone had gone soft, "She said it was the most beautiful thing she'd ever seen. I thought so too."

Your heart rate quickened – his sister? You had a nasty habit for jumping to conclusions. It's not as if he'd come into a craft store to buy handcrafted wooden condoms.

Your heart had a pessimistic way of thinking, you'd liked him so much and for so long that your brain turned to non-functioning mush in his presence, clearly.

His sister. The tree was for his sister.

You chewed on your lower lip, trying to concentrate on evening out your breathing and heartbeat. To no avail, naturally.

His gaze was on you so strongly you could feel it. "Aren't you going to say anything?"

"I'm...sorry?" Wow it's like you didn't even try to be convincing.

"No you're not." He chuckled, low and quickly – and it built up into laughter much lighter "You're not sorry at all."

You looked away, caught.

From your peripheral vision you saw him slide the notes over to you, even closer than they were before. "Put the money in the register. Now."

His tone didn't leave much room for debate, it was low and persuasive and you found yourself trembling at the thought of saying no.

"I want to watch you do it."

You detected hints of flirtation in his tone but you didn't want to get ahead of yourself, so you reached out to grab the money and just get it over and done with, but he was quicker.

He snapped the money back up and held it between his middle and forefinger, just for the purpose of keeping your gaze. "And don't try this again, I live too far away to keep coming back like this."

You tilted your head in question, he lived far away?

You held your hand out and he gave you the money, allowing you to put it in the register underneath his watchful gaze.

You shut it, and looked up. "Satisfied?"

He grinned at you, "Very..." A pause,

"Don't sell yourself short, don't ever try to give some guy free things, especially when they're so beautifully and carefully crafted."

You felt mildly affronted by his accusations. "What do you mean by some guy?" your lips fell into a thin line, the previous mood shattered. You chose to ignore the latter half of the sentences flattery.

"I don't know. Maybe if some guy you like comes in with his friends and charms the pants off of you and I don't know... you just give away your things for free."

You gave him a look of complete confusion. Was he daft?

"I like you, jerk."

Your hands came up to your mouth, as if it would do any good. Why had you said something so rash?

His eyes went wide, and if you didn't know any better you might have seen his face flush.

"What, why? You don't even know me..." He scratched the back of his head, "For how long?"

How coherent of him?

"Why? Because I can. I might not know you but, that doesn't mean I don't want to! And, uh, a while..." You huffed indignantly at the end of your mild outburst.

"No, god I mean..." He ran a hand through his hair, "I wouldn't say I like you, it's more of a crush... I don't know how to explain it, how can you like someone you don't know? You know?"

He had a fair point, in all his jumbled musings, perhaps blurting out your affections so carelessly made him think you were someone who used those words often.

"Well..." you thought, deflecting, "how can you have a crush on me then? Or whatever it is you want to call it."

"I asked first."

You almost scoffed, folding your arms. "Because I see you looking around and you're always happy. This is my father's store, and it makes me happy seeing you happy inside of it."

How many times did you just use the word happy?

He looked pleased at your admission, a sweet sly smile playing at his lips.

You sighed, "Now you."

"Alright" he shifted his balance onto his other leg, looking far taller and more imposing than he should have for someone so pleasant. "You make me curious, that's why."

Huh?

He rolled his eyes at your blank stare of confusion, "You make me curious. Whenever I come in you scramble to hide the books you're reading, to pretend like you were working." There was laughter in his voice, "It's cute..." he leaned in closer over the counter, "and it makes me so curious, I always wanted to know what you were reading."You felt your cheeks warm in embarrassment, "You could've just asked."

"No..." he hummed in reply "Because I spent my time in here day dreaming about what you might be reading. It entertained me."

You huffed, "Nice to know I'm a good source of entertainment."

"And whenever you look over at me..." He ignored you and carried on, "And I notice from the corner of my eye and look back, you always look away. Why do you do that?"

All of this time he'd never let on just how attentive he was to you. Knowing this embarrassed you to no end.

You didn't answer him.

"Why do you do that?" He tried again, his voice sounded closer than before. He looked so handsome with confusion lacing his features."I don't know." You bit back shyly

"You're a shit liar, do you know that?" he bit his lip and gave you a once over, "I'll ask you one more time, why do you look at me like that?"

You played with the frills on your sleeves out of nervousness and pat down your store pinafore one too many times than was necessary, desperately needing a distraction from your ever fluttering stomach.

"Y-you know you're nothing like I thought you'd be." You muttered

He smirked and gave you a look as if to say, 'no shit.'

"Wrong answer." Was what he whispered back instead.

The two of you just stood there staring at one another, and you couldn't discern whether or not the silence was comfortable, or unbearable.

You could've sworn his eyes darted to your lips for a moment, but the spell was broken when the bell sounded and a customer came in through the door.

"Welcome!" You got out, albeit breathlessly.

You met eyes with Mingyu again, and he looked as if he was on the brink of saying something. He sucked in an annoyed breath and looked away. But that façade didn't last long because a second later his attention was back on you.

"What time do you get off?"

Your eyes darted to the clock. 5.20. You had 10 minutes left but you'd rather clock out early than have to wait through the tension of, well, whatever the hell you'd call this.

You watched as your final customer left after looking around extremely briefly.

"Now." You whispered, taking off your pinafore gently and setting it beneath the counter.

You went out back for only a moment and switched the power off, coming back out to meet Mingyu.

Your nervousness was palpable, and you patted down your jean skirt that was beneath the pinafore, hoping that your blouse was presentable enough.

It felt like time was moving very slowly as the two of you walked out of the store together, his beautiful features were darkened in shadow – illuminated only by the soft cloudy light emanating from the glass doors.

The two of you slipped out wordlessly, but not before you flipped the sign at the door around to 'Sorry! We are CLOSED.'

—0–0–0–0–

Mingyu took you to a park that was close by, and while the sun wasn't out shining, there was a real charm to the dull grey – with little hints of blue dotted throughout the sky.

The two of you sat on a bench overlooking a field of grass and trees, with flowers scattered about, growing in sparse groups.

"You know, I'm sorry for teasing you." He murmured, looking forward.

You smiled, only a little.

You often day-dreamed about Mingyu taking you out, but back then he didn't have a name to his face. He was just the smiling boy who'd come in whenever he felt like it, with no routine.

But now that you knew the kind of flirtatiousness and deadly charm of which he was capable, it got you to thinking. Just what exactly was it that you liked about him? He had every right to tease you, and to question – because in his eyes you were just a silly girl with an even sillier, baseless crush.You turned to look at his side profile, marvelling at the perfect sculpture of it. "You are?"

"Yeah. Can I tell you the truth?" There was an odd sort of smile on his lips – that met somewhere between a grin and a grimace.

You nodded – hopefully he caught it in his peripheral vision.

"At first I was annoyed with you – for telling me you liked me so carelessly. I thought maybe you'd said it to lots of people before me, I got jealous I suppose." He leaned off to the side of the bench and sat back up with a daisy in his hand, and when he started picking at the petals you supposed it was to put his energy somewhere. "But seeing the way you act when I even... look at you. The way you look at me, it's..." he sighed softly, thoughts dribbling off into nothingness. You hadn't even realised he thought so deeply about you, you felt awful for making him uncomfortable – even without realising it."What I'm trying to say is that I understand you." He finalised "I'm drawn to you, too, more than I can understand why."

You smiled softly, suddenly feeling very warm.

"But, you don't know me, Y/N." He looked at you – looking far too beautiful in all his earnest composure. "Can you live with that?"

"For now." You whispered, "But I meant what I said before, is it so wrong to want to get to know you?"

"Which..." He inhaled and reclined into the bench, legs splayed out in a boyishly charming manner "Which me did you start to like, how was I?"

You thought about the confusing question for a moment, "You smiled a lot. Made a lot of weird, goofy faces at inanimate objects my father and I made. Ridiculously charming stuff." You giggled "And you'd always buy the silly things that my dad loves and I loathe. You know, the wooden sculptures with odd anatomy. I told him there was no market for it, but you became the market." You bit your lip to keep from laughing harder.You paused, "I'll only be a little upset if that isn't the real you."He pulled his lower lip through his teeth and turned to look at you, there was something indiscernible about his gaze, "Only a little?" he whispered.

A.Lie.

"Yeah..." You trailed off

"Do you make it a habit to lie?" he scoffed, turning away from you. "I already told you, you're a bad liar."

"'Shit', I believe was your adjective of choice."

You watched him grin, if you were brave enough to call it that. "I'm serious, Y/N. If you want my truths you have to give me yours, it's the only way we can figure out..." his index finger flicked between the two of you in an exaggerated gesture "Whatever this is."

He was right. He was probably always right.

"I'd be upset, but I'm sure I could get used to every part of you."

Satisfied, he seemed to drop it. "Good, because it is a part of me, before you that is."

You quirked your brow, "What's that supposed to mean?"

"You make me nervous." He concluded simply.

"I make you nervous? You never let that on, at all." You murmured, truthfully confused.

Mingyu seemed very well put together. He was a person who you'd always assumed never gave two shits about the thoughts of other people. But the more time you spent with him alone, the more you realised your awful habit of projecting personalities onto people was a dangerous game to play.

The Mingyu you had feelings for was only a small part of his personality, there was more depth to him than he let on.

"I'm a better liar than you." He was looking at you fully, now.

It was silent for a while before he spoke up again, "My mom took me to this area when I was a little younger during the holidays. You didn't work at the shop at that time but I vaguely remember seeing your face. I loved the eccentric toys your father made, so I always asked my mom to bring me back."

This was news to you, you didn't remember him at all. But listening to him recollect so fondly about your store made your heart swell with pride. That's all your father had ever wanted, a homelike store full of warmth and treasures people of all ages could enjoy.

The store was especially bustling during holiday season and irrevocably dead during off season, so it was understandable you didn't recognize his face.

"I always drive down here when I get the time. I feel at home here for some reason because I have good memories of the store – it was so magical and big when I was a kid, not so much now, naturally."

"Yeah, you're huge." You cut in.

He snickered before continuing on, "Since I felt at home in your store I always got a little comfortable, entertaining myself. But then I noticed you looking at me once, and I don't know what it was about it, but, something happened to my heart that day."

You blinked a few times, trying to absorb all of this information. He was a wonderful speaker – his voice was so calming and deep you found it hard not to fall in.

"Your heart?" You questioned delicately, just trying to make sense of the connection the two of you seemed to have – which until today had gone severely unnoticed.

"Yeah. And before I knew it I was nervous, I couldn't act the way I usually did because I was afraid it would scare you off or something. I felt like I couldn't be myself around you, you were too beautiful for that." He ran a hand through his hair after the statement, and you felt blessed to have seen him do it up so close.

"That's...shallow. You were willing to change who you are, for me? Because you thought I was pretty?" You laughed lightly at the notion

He raised his eyebrow at you and leaned in close, "Shallow?"

You swallowed at the close proximity.

"You never answered my question, and I've been so truthful I think I deserve an answer..." He ran his tongue along his lower lip, following the teasing lilt in his tone. He was teasing you, and he wasn't attempting to conceal it this time.

You knew exactly what question he wanted the answer to.

'Why do you look at me like that?'

He fucking well knew the answer to it too, and you wondered if he was 50% kindness and 50% mischief – maybe 60/40.

But you were certain, even after everything he'd divulged to you – you'd take all 50% of his teasing, of his bullying and smirks and eyebrow raises and every other bloody thing that came along with Mingyu's personality – if it meant you got to see him laugh with glee from time to time.You'd gotten caught up in your thoughts while watching him, and you shook your head to shake you out of the dazed reverie.

"You were doing it just now." He fell back dramatically into the bench, leaning his head back "Christ."

"Sorry."

"No you aren't!"

You giggled, then.

"No really. I am, I'm sorry. I didn't ever want to make you uncomfortable. That's the truth. It was the last thing I wanted." You felt a little ashamed of yourself, at not ever being able to hide your feelings well.

Your inability to do so had caused the person next to you a great deal of confusion.

"Whoever said I wanted an apology from you? I love the way you look at me. But I told you before, I'm curious." He shifted close to you, impossibly so. Close enough that your thighs were touching – but his were clothed.

"If you don't tell me, I'll kiss you."

You looked at his mouth and had to fight back laughter. That was a threat? Oh boohoo, that would be awful.

Perfectly annoyed by him, you grabbed gently at the collar of his shirt and brought his mouth to yours. He let out a low, pleased noise – melting into your touch.

His lips felt like heaven on yours, they were soft and warm – and the noises of pleasure he was making was doing little to stifle the rampant thumping of your heart. He kissed back with fervour, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you into him further.

When it had all gotten too much, he pulled away slowly and hesitantly, before putting his head into the crook of your neck and letting out a soft sigh. "That was unfair." He whispered, leaning back to look at you. "You're avoiding giving me an answer."

"Are you done being a brat or are you going to admit that you already know the answer?" You wound your arms around his neck and played with the back of his hair, admiring the feel. It was as soft as you'd imagined.

"Is it so wrong to want to hear it from you?" He murmured, leaning forward and pressing his lips to yours again quickly.

You laughed softly into the little space between you, effectively ignoring him.

"I really am sorry about liking you so early. But I think it'll be very easy to like all of you,Mingyu." You hoped you sounded sure.

"You're not sorry." He bit his lip, smiling through the gesture.

"You're right." You whispered, leaning up and placing a delicate kiss to his forehead, and lingering far longer than necessary;

"I'm not."

#seventeen #seventeen fanfic #stories #kpop #mingyu x you #mingyu x reader #mingyu x y/n #kim mingyu #seventeen x y/n #seventeen x you #seventeen fluff #mingyu fluff #mingyu fic #seventeen kim mingyu

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harrylilies · 3 years

Text

The Royal Series | Pt. VI

The Royal Series Masterlist

"What do you mean I have to take him with me? I'm going on a two- day trip with my friends." You asked your grandmother in shock.

"Which is why it's the perfect way to get to know each other. I know you don't like following the formal way so do it your way." She told you before sipping her tea.

You laughed in disbelief, shaking your head before looking at your grandpapa, Prince Philip, "Please say something."

"Darling," Prince Philip sighed before looking at his wife. "You know how Y/N hardly gets to go on vacation with her friends and this seems like a duty."

You motioned with your hands at him as you looked at her, mouthing an "Exactly.”

"Fred is 26, he will fit in with Y/N and her group of friends."

"Why are you doing this?" You whispered, leaning back on your chair in defeat.

She put her hand on top of yours, looking at you with soft eyes. "It's for the best. For you."

You shook your head, "This isn't what I want. It’s what the government wants. What you think is best."

"It's what you need." She finished for you before standing up, making you stand. "Amsterdam is an exotic place. I expect you to not do anything you might regret, sweetheart." She told you before looking down at one of her corgis, Willow.

"Oh, can I hold Fred's hand? Maybe steal a kiss or two." You said sarcastically, knowing well that you were pushing her buttons, something that made Prince Philip snicker under his breath.

"Y/N," she looked at you, "As long as it's nothing that can be held against you, harm you or downgrade you, you're free to do anything you please."

"Free," you chuckled before nodding. "Yes, Ma'am."

After she left the room, you were left with your granpapa who instantly approached you and put his arm around your shoulders, his sympathetic eyes looking at you. "But you have fun on your trip. I'm sure Fred isn't half bad."

"I know he isn't, Papa." You sigh, feeling him squeeze your shoulder. "I feel so pressured."

"Everything will be alright, darling. You just have fun for me, will you?”

"How was your nap?" You asked Fred politely as you and your friends sat, having breakfast in the hotel.

"Very satisfying," he chuckled, pouring himself a cup of tea. "What about you?"

"Haven't really slept. Nia and I decided to play monopoly instead." You chuckled, adjusting your jacket.

"Hear it from us first, Princess Y/N of the UK breaks royal rule and plays Monopoly. Scandalous!" Fred said in a dramatic reporter voice, making you laugh.

"Come on, you must have broken a lot of rules before."

He nodded, "I don't really go by the rules." He shrugged before chuckling, “Except for that necklace I gifted you, I’m sorry. That was my mother’s doing.”

"How scandalous and vulgar." You joked, putting a hand on your heart dramatically.

"Your Royal Highnesses are needed in our conversation." Your friend, Nia, joked. You and Fred looked at her together, "We were saying we should go canal cruising right away. Although I'm scared to shit."

"Why? Not a fan of water?" Fred asked her.

Nia shook her head, laughing. "I'm a terrible swimmer. Can't rescue myself if I ever fall."

"It's true. She swims like a sad cat." Eddie joked, laughing more when Nia swatted his arm.

"It's alright, we'll all be together so I doubt you won't get rescued if you fall." Fred smiled, putting his loosely crossed arms on the table.

"Are you saying we can fall off?" Emma asked, cocking an eyebrow at him.

Fred instantly straightened his posture and shook his head, looking back and forth between Nia and Emma. "I didn't mean that. Not that way."

Emma laughed, "I'm just joking."

"Oh." He chuckled, scratching the nape of his neck.

"Well, it's comforting knowing that we have a professional swimmer with us. Very assuring." Trevor said before putting his fork down, "Because Y/N here, said she was skipping on this activity."

They all nodded, knowing what you already told them. You gave them a sheepish smile, shrugging, "Sorry."

"Don't apologize. You fucking better make use of these 4 hours we're gone in." Nia pointed at you.

"Yes, ma'am."

"Also send us pictures." Farrah said, elbowing you.

"You're all embarrassing."

"Do I look bizarre?" You ask one of your personal guards, Andrew, motioning to yourself. You had a "Treat People With Kindness" black hoodie, the hood covering your head, black trousers and your black vans on. You had your sunnies on, opting to not get recognized.

Andrew shook his head, "You don't, Your Highness. I don't believe people would notice."

"Told you to call me Y/N, Andy." You chuckled, taking your phone out.

"It's a habit." Your other guard, Sid, said.

You chuckled again as you texted the one person whom you were impatiently waiting for.

I'm outside x

Almost instantly, you received a reply.

I'll let Jeffery come and get you x

You waited for about 3 minutes before the black door in front of you opened and out came a grinning Jeff. "Your Highness, good to see you again."

You smiled, "Just Y/N. And thank you, Jeffrey. It's good to see you, too."

"Just Jeff." He corrected you teasingly as you walked inside and backstage. "Harry has been all over the place since we knew you're coming. Doesn't shut up about you. Don’t tell him I said that though."

You felt your cheeks heat up, only giggling in response. You stopped in front of a brown door that had "DRESSING ROOM" beside it.

"He's inside." Jeff said, knocking. "Harry?"

"Come inside!"

You grinned, glancing at your guards who chuckled and took a step back. "We'll wait here." Sid said.

Jeff opened the door for you, motioning for you to go inside.

You took off your sunnies, holding them in your hands instead as your eyes fell on the man in ruffles in front of you who was looking down, his head snapping up once he noticed your presence.

"Y/N," Harry breathed out softly as his face broke into a grin, taking long strides towards you before wrapping his arms around you, his head buried in your neck as he brought your body closer to his. "I missed you."

Your arms around his shoulders squeezed him tighter, closing your eyes as you let his warmth engulf you. "I missed you, too, H."

At the nickname, Harry felt himself smile. He pulled back, his hands moving to your face as he softly and so gently stroked your cheeks with his thumbs. "H, huh?"

You let out a small nervous chuckle, shrugging as you wrapped your arms around his torso and looked up at him. "It slipped."

"I love it." He confessed quietly.

Your hands moved to his arms that were covered by the silky shirt, feeling so soothing and satisfying under your fingers as you looked at him. "This is the part when you kiss me." You teased him, feeling your faces get closer.

"And this is when you kiss me back."

If you could describe Harry's lips against yours, you'd use the word "melting.”

Melting was what you felt, slowly letting the feeling of his lips on yours let you loose. Melting went your worries and everything around. Melting went all the judgement and overthinking. Harry's lips absolutely melted you.

Pulling away with a smack and smiles, Harry pecked your lips once again softly. "You have very kissable lips."

"Yeah?" You looked up at him.

"Yeah." Harry confirmed, leaning down to steal one more soft and quick kiss.

"I like the ruffles." You said, running your hands through them.

"Jeff says I look like I came from the wrong era." Harry said, looking down at himself.

You laughed, shaking your head. "You look just fine. I told you that you would."

"’Nough about me. Nice sweatshirt." Harry's lips turned to a smug smirk, looking down at you wearing his own merch. "I was so nervous that I got Farrah's address wrong and it wouldn't be delivered there though."

"I told you I can get it online."

"And I told you to consider it as a gift." Harry shrugged. "Can you help me with my hair? It won't-" Harry patted his head, looking up, "It won't sit."

You laughed, taking a hold of his wrist to get it away from his head.

"Sit down." You urged him to the vanity chair, him sitting and giving you a wide toothed comb. You began to softly comb it, enjoying how luscious and soft in felt. "So, are you coming tonight?"

Harry looked at you through the mirror, his eyes focused on how concentrated you looked as you combed his hair gently with a faint smile on his face. "Do you think your friends will like me?"

"You already liked Farrah as far as I know and she liked you. My friends are fun to be around, promise." You nodded, glancing at him through the mirror before looking at his hair.

"What were their names again?"

"Eddie, Nia, Trev and Emma." You replied instantly before your move hitched, pursing your lips. "And-and Fred." "Fred?" Harry repeated, "Don't remember a Fred in the text you sent me a couple of days ago."*

"Yeah, he's just," You gulped, shrugging your shoulders. "He's just a friend of ours that joined last minute."

Harry nodded, his index and thumb moving to graze his bottom lip; something you picked on was a habit of his when he felt nervous or in thought.

"What are you thinking about?" You asked gently, putting the comb down before softly beginning to run your fingers through his hair to fluff it.

Harry sat up straight, lacing his fingers together in his lap as you both looked at each other through the vanity mirror. "You know I don't consider you a fling, don't you?"

"Uh," your eyes moved to look at his hair again instead of him, shaking your head slightly. "I didn't actually."

"So you," Harry paused, stopping your hands from moving by grabbing them and putting them around his shoulders instead. "You think you're a fling?"

You shrugged, feeling his thumbs gently stroke your knuckles. "I don't know, I-" You stopped, "I don't really know what do you consider me, Harry. Whether you see this going anywhere or you're scared. Or if you feel like I'm too much to handle or not. I don't know if you think this is worth it. Or if-if you just think this is adventurous and risky, gives you that thrilling feeling. It happened to me right after uni and I think I stopped understanding people's intentions ever since. When it comes to that I mean." You confessed, giving him a pursed smile after you finished as you looked back at him. "I don't have history, Harry. I don't-" You paused, shaking your head as you let out a low laugh, "I don't know."

"Y/N," Harry said softly, holding your hand and moving you till you were in front of him, letting you stand between his legs as he looked up at you.

His hands moved to hold your waist, looking up at you as you rested your hands on his shoulders. "Then I will tell you what you don't know. What you should know is that I like you. I really do. I don't care about your status or if you have guards around you all the time. Fuck it, I don't even care if I have to wait for you for three hours outside your flat and behind bushes because your grandmother isn't with us being together. I," Harry chuckled, shrugging his shoulders, "Call me a sap, a total cliché tosser but I have never felt like this about anyone before, Y/N. So here I am, an hour before my show begins, with everyone outside and the world oblivious to me having Her Highness Princess Y/N of the United Kingdom in my hold and me only caring about everything that you wish you can show to everyone, including your family, and about being there when you try new takeout," he chuckled,

"And what I'm trying to ask you is, do you want us to be-" Harry stood up, towering over you and wrapping his arms around your waist.

And there you stood; oblivious to his heartbeats that Sarah could probably use instead of her drums, his body hot and his nerves feeling as though they were about to get wrecked.

"Do you want us to be together? Exclusive?" Harry asked, "Do you want to be my girlfriend, Y/N?"

You let out a small laugh of shock, looking up at him before raising your eyebrows. "Are you serious?"

"Dead serious." He nodded.

Instantly, your hands cupped his cheeks and you brought your lips to his in a deep, strong kiss, tilting his head slightly to feel all of it before pulling away. "Are you sure?"

"I can't stop," Harry said, almost heaving, "I can't stop thinking about you," he pecked your lips, "Kissing you," he kissed you again. "Knowing that you're mine. That I'm yours. I can't fucking stop thinking about it, Y/N.” His hands were than tangled in your hair after dropping your hood, his eyes looking into yours. "Fuck," He licked his lips, glancing at yours before looking back into your eyes. "What have you done to me, you minx?”

You giggled, "I haven't done," You shook your head. "Anything.”

"Lies." He joked with a smile drawn on his face.

"Think I just became your girlfriend."

At the confirmation, Harry only pressed his lips to yours.

"What do you mean you didn't tell him about Fred?" Emma asked as you sat on her bed in the hotel, watching as she towel-dried her hair.

"I mean I didn't tell him about Fred. I told him that he's our friend."

"Why did you do that? You're together now, Y/N. He should know." Nia said, plopping beside you on the bed.

"What do I say?!" You groaned, "Hey Harry, by the way, I'm somewhat arranged to marry Prince Fred by my grandmother and the government. Hope it's alright." You sarcastically said.

"Okay, I don't think she should tell him." Nia said, looking at your other friends. You chuckled, shaking your head at how easily convinced she was.

"It sounds bad," Farrah said before turning to look at you as she fixed her hijab, "But put yourself in his shoes. What if he knows about it later when it's already too messy?"

"I won't let it reach that. I'm going to do something about it." You said, glancing at your friends. "It's not like I'm going to allow that marriage."

"Still." Nia said before she popped her newly red-coloured lips.

"If I really did put myself in his shoes and I know that the woman I'm with is basically arranged to marry someone else, I'll probably run off because what's the point of fighting against the queen and the country’s fucking government? I’ll be done for." You opened your arms questioningly.

"Didn't you say that he told you he doesn't care if he hides behind the bushes because your grandma doesn't support you?" Farrah asked, pointing her mascara at you. You nodded. "Then there you have it. A keeper."

You sighed, about to drop on your back when Nia's hand on your back stopped you. "You ironed that suit. Don't mess it up because your life is fucked up."

"Wise words." You mumbled, sitting up. You nodded, standing up and looking at them. "Alright I'll tell him,"

"Yes." They all breathed out, nodding.

"When it's the right time." You continued, hearing them groan in response. "We've just got together today!"

"Look, baby," Emma approached you, putting her hand on your shoulder, "We'll be here for you whenever you decide to do whatever you want. You're a grown woman and you handle complicated shit everyday in your life. We trust you, okay?"

You smiled, nodding. "Thank you, Em."

"I second Em."

"Third her." Farrah smiled at you, blowing you an exaggerated kiss.

"That jumpsuit looks good on you, by the way."

"Speaking of looking good," Nia began, standing up and scrunching her curly hair as she looked in the mirror. "Fred isn't half bad. He's decent."

You, Emma and Farrah looked at each other with surprised smirks before looking at Nia who noticed the change in the room, looking back at you. "What?" She asked, furrowing her eyebrows. "Why are you looking at me like that?"

"Like what?" Emma challenger her teasingly.

"Like I just told you I want to shove my tongue down his throat." Nia replied.

"Your words, not ours." You teased her, laughing when she gave you a "come on!"

You raised your hands up in surrender, "Just think I should let you know that I'm a taken woman and as far as I know, he's single."

"You three," Nia pointed at you, raising her eyebrows, "Are shit, do you know that?"

"Come on, it's almost 7. We better leave." Farrah said, checking her phone.

Meeting with the guys in the lobby and getting into the cars, you all drove towards the restaurant which Eddie told you was one of the best. Harry had texted you prior, telling you that he was almost there.

"Better early or I won't get the friends approval." He had texted.

Walking behind Trevor who turned to look at you over his shoulder, "Can I give him the if-you-hurt-her-I-hurt-you talk?"

"Absolutely not." You scolded him under your breath before chuckling.

"Geez, fine. Guess I'll stick to the embarrassing stories."

"Trev-" Trevor speeded off while snickering, letting you stop behind Fred.

"You look nice, Y/N." Fred smiled softly at you.

"Thank you, Fred. So do you." You smiled back, nodding your head.

"I was uh," he cleared his throat, looking behind you for a second. "I was meaning to ask you about something."

You nodded, urging him to. "Sure, what is it?"

"Is Nia-" He looked behind you again before lowering his head and voice, "Is she seeing anyone?"

Not knowing how to contain the grin, you glanced behind you at her before looking back at Fred. "She isn't actually. Want me to put in a good word for you?"

"No, no, I-" He shook his head instantly before looking down at you, "Would you? Would you do that?"

You hummed, nodding. "Of course."

He nodded, "Yeah, that would be-that would be nice."

You chuckled before nodding at him and looking in front of you, grinning when your eyes fell on the one person you absolutely wanted to kiss.

"Come on. Let's meet that boyfriend of yours." Emma whispered in your ear as you all walked towards the table where Harry stood, his hands behind his back and a welcoming smile on his face.

You were almost standing in line, watching your friends greet Harry who was grinning, shaking everyone's hand.

"It's nice to finally meet you, Harry." Emma smiled at him before sitting down; not before looking at you and giving you a discreet “ok” hand sign and a thumb up.

You approached him, smiling when he quickly leaned in, greeting you with a peck on your lips. "You look incredible." He whispered.

"You look handsome, too." You replied. Harry pulled your seat out for you, making you sit near him as he sat at the head of the table, you sitting on the first chair to his left.

"Y/N told me you went on a canal cruise, how was it?" Harry asked, smiling as his hand rested on your knee.

And so, the conversation started flowing naturally and easily, filled with laughter and playful banter.

"I saw the video, that one you posted on your Instagram story," Eddie pointed at you before looking back at Harry, "You're bloody talented, mate."

"Right? You have amazing vocals, Harry." Farrah agreed.

You smiled as you looked at Harry, seeing his cheeks slightly turn to faded pink, making you put your hand on his on your knee. "You should hear him live. It's exactly like the studio version." You told them.

"Hey! We should definitely go once." Emma suggested, looking around at everyone on the table who agreed.

"You're welcome to any time." Harry politely said with a sheepish smile.

"Any time isn't convenient to these two royal highnesses." Trevor motioned with his hand at you and Fred, making your smile falter slightly.

Harry's eyebrows raised before looking at Fred, "Oh, excuse me. I wasn't aware that you were-."

You looked down, your ears almost perked at the conversation as the girls eyed you. Fred chuckled, nodding. "Eh, piss off,” he joked, “It doesn't matter. I'm probably going to give it up as soon as I can."

"Oh," Harry almost absentmindedly began rubbing your knee with his thumb, affectionately. "But why? If I may ask so."

"Y/N can tell you about it or she probably already did. Expectations, force, control, all that. No offense to you, darl," Fred looked at you for a second before looking back at Harry. "It's the whole marriage thing that tipped me off." "Marriage?" Harry asked confusingly, seeming interested in the talk.

"You know what? I think royal talk is the last thing we need right now," Nia interrupted them, you releasing a breath. "Harry, where's your next show?"

#the royal series #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles x princess

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