#she is standing on the rocks cus she like to be tall | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

yourstingrey · 2 months

Text

Foolish One

A/N:Hiii i already tried to post this once and run away for the weekend so I didn't have to see any notes but I forgot tags so reposting lol but thank you for the support on my last fic as well I tried to take my time with this one and even though I'm still not the biggest fan of it I thought I should still post it so I can improve next time!!!

Wc:3081

Warnings: angst, situationship, lowkey toxic relationship, hinting at hooking up, i gave the cabins a bathroom cus im not making you walk outside for that, grammar??

My cards are on the table, yours are in your hand

Chances are, tonight, you've already got plans

And chances are I will talk myself to sleep again.

Me and Luke have had a bit of a flirtationship for a while. A LONG while. Sometimes I think for too long but I've always had a crush on Luke. I mean the greatest swordsman at camp, always so helpful to new campers, and he's so beautiful. So when he finally noticed me months ago I gushed to my siblings about it, in the beginning, it was perfect. He would invite me on perfect dates, little picnics by the lake, walks in the forest together ranting about things at camp that bugged us, and even a couple of ‘hangouts’ in the Hermes cabin when everyone was off.

You give me just enough attention to keep my hopes too high

Wishful thoughts forget to mention when something's really not right

But nowadays he's always so busy I mean I can't blame him he's THE role model of camp. Plus he never forgets to slip a letter to my siblings saying he was sorry for not seeing me but I know where he is. He's never really busy.

And I will block out these voices of reason in my head.

And the voices say, "You are not the exception. You will never learn your lesson"

Moths fill my stomach as I walk to the Hermes cabin eating holes inside me and making my nerves practically leak out of me as I approach the door. Finally reaching the pale yellow door and sucked in my breath before knocking. I rock back and forth on my heels staring at the stained glass above the door before refocusing my attention on the door opening. To my dismay, it wasn't Luke who I planned on asking to hang out with today but instead, Chris opened the door.

As he opened the door he made an almost pitiful look “Are you looking for Luke..?” I cleared my throat awkwardly before speaking “Oh um yeah… do you know where he would be by any chance!”. The look on his face practically sunk in more but then I think he realized how he was staring at me “I think he is out training but he might be busy so maybe you shouldn't see him” he said rushed while rubbing the back of his neck like it was sore “Thanks Chris but I'm sure he won't mind i'll be super quick!”

Foolish one

Stop checkin' your mailbox for confessions of love

That ain't never gonna come

You will take the long way, you will take the long way down

Leaves crunch as I walk the arena mumbling under my breath how to ask to have a break with him. Even a quick walk in the woods would work. I'm desperate for Luke now even if he wants to say he doesn't want to see me anymore I'd take it. Arena in sight my pace quickens to the entrance ready to slip in but pause as I hear the unmistakable charming laugh of Lukes but also unfamiliar hushed giggles.

As I stand outside the clear opening I purse my lips before deciding that I would peak in just in I mean it's not like I mean to eavesdrop but I've never seen Luke with any girls so publicly he insists he likes things like that to be private saying “it's more special to keep it to ourselves”. The moment I looked inside the arena my heart dropped to my stomach it was Luke and Drew. Drew was a daughter of Aphrodite and you could tell she was tall and had long dark hair she was beautiful. Clearly, something Luke said must have said the funniest thing on the planet as they couldn't stop laughing.

In some universe where I was braver, I would march up to them and ask what was so funny but instead, I cowered, peaking in still. But in the worst-case scenario, Luke looked over at the entrance. It wasn't even some corny I slipped and he saw he just looked over. It was clear he saw me, he whispered something over to Drew and now she was looking too. It felt like I was in quicksand I couldn't move and I was sinking deeper and deeper now that she was watching and he was heading over.

As he jogs over I hear him in an out of breath tone spit out “Hey what are you doing here?” I go back to rocking on my heels “Oh uhhh I just came to see you because we just haven't hung out in a while. I mean if you're busy it's okay just uh y'know..” I mumble out the last bit embarrassed of my stammering. Rubbing the back of his neck looking behind him before turning back at me sharply inhaling through his teeth and saying “Uh… sure yeah how about you meet me later at the spot? Just go at night and I'll meet you there.” I try not to look visibly awkward by the curt sound of his voice but I won't prod to see if that's true “Okay I'll meet you there later!”

He looked at me before giving me a quick bye and spinning on his heel back to Drew. But honestly, I was riding a tiny high right now. I was excited to see him. A coy smile plays on my lips as I go back to my cabin.

You know how to keep me waitin'

I know how to act like I'm fine

Don't know what to call this situation

But I know I can't call you mine

Picking out an outfit isn't hard when most of your clothes consist of orange camp shirts or the few cute clothes you took from home. I landed on shorts and a sweater before finally tiptoeing out of my cabin. The cold chill of the evening air was overwhelmed by the almost caffeine jitter bounce running through my body as I walked a secret path Luke and I practically created with how much our shoes scuffed up the ground leading to our spot.

Reaching the end of the path expecting a familiar head of curls to be sitting maybe watching the stars waiting instead I stare out into the empty small clearing. My eyes sting and my lip wobbles. I quietly continue to shuffle over until I sit down trying to shake it off to him running a bit late. We didn't say exactly what time so honestly I felt silly getting upset. Relaxed now I bring my knees up to my chest and prop my chin up on them holding my legs with my arms. Sitting in our spot felt nostalgic for the earlier summer, stumbling off into the woods looking to escape prying eyes and stumbling on this exact spot…

And it's delicate, but I will do my best to seem bulletproof

'Cause when my head is on your shoulder

It starts thinkin' you'll come around

Swift feet run through the forest as I feel my arm being tugged along to keep up, “Luke! Slow down trust me no one is gonna find us at this rate!” my voice practically cuts out like glitches through my laughter as Luke finally slows down his pace to turn back to me “Yknow you're no fun in trying to make it private for us” tilting his head to the side and giving me a joking pout. I grab his hand and swing it back and forth “Shut up if that's true why do you spend so much of your precious time with me then hmmm?” He drops my hand and starts to walk backward further into the woods “You know what... You're on to something I've gotta get away from you! I think you must have put a spell on me, are you sure you’re not a daughter of Aphrodite after all?”

I follow after him and jokingly shove him to the side to walk in front of him “ugh you're such a jerk someti-” My feet lifted from the ground cutting my sentence off, feeling his strong arms wrap around my torso and looking down at his laughing face before he starts to spin us in a circle a quick few times before stop and setting me back down. Looking up at Luke to see him gazing at the view in front of us, an almost perfect clearing giving you a view of the calm water below and the blue sky above a log laid down in front of it grabbing hold of luke's hand again and tugging it to get him to sit down against the log with me. Sitting I leaned my head to rest on his shoulder, knees bumping as we sat our interlocked hands sat in my lap and I just stared down at them in this light with him and me sitting here they looked almost like they were carved out of marble made only fit with each other perfectly. I changed my gaze to peer up through my lashes at Luke now to see he was already looking at me. My cheeks flare up in a warm pink glow as I feel my chest humming, his face leans down, his other hand reaching up to cup the burning cheek, eyes fluttering shut lips brushing in delicate kisses while Luke grins into it…

But then the voices say, "You are not the exception, You will never learn your lesson"

Foolish one

Stop checkin' your mailbox for confessions of love. That ain't never gonna come

You will take the long way, you will take the long way down

I shiver maybe at the breeze passing by, maybe at the memory I couldn't tell, hugging my knees tighter and looking out before the sound of a leaf quietly crunches behind me. I didn't look back though I knew it was him no one else knew our spot was too far out. He slid right next to me on the log before speaking up in a quiet tone “I'm sorry I took so long just.. Yknow my cabin has so many campers it's hard to duck out when you're their counselor, I really didn't mean to keep you waiting..” Finishing his sentence he pulls me into him making me cuddle into his side. I sigh contently forgiving him in my head because to be wrapped up with him shining down on us like a spotlight made it feel right. “s’okay thank you for coming Luke..” “Of course..”

Now I'm slidin' down the wall with my head in my hands

Sayin', "How could I not see the signs?"

Oh, you haven't written me or called, But goodbye screamin' in the silence

We sat there together for a while and talked about what we had missed in each other's lives until the quiet chill made our hands feel frozen even with them clasped tightly together. Luke said he would walk me back to my cabin saying “If we get caught I'll just say I caught you sneaking out and I'm taking you back” Thanking the gods that we have Luke's counselor job as pass I really don't think I could handle Mr. D and Chiron put me back to cleaning the stables which I only did to take the blame for Luke last summer.

We arrive back into camp feeling Luke unclasp our hands without a word. My steps flatter for a mere second before I simply choose to ignore the action and catch up with his stride. As we walk I speak up “Um thanks for walking me back to my cabin I really appreciate it..” “It's no problem can’t let my favorite archer walk out in the cold alone!” he says in a positive but quiet voice. “So I was wondering if I could see you again yknow maybe we could just eat together or something if you don't have a lot of time..?” Our steps come to a halt in front of my cabin now he looks at me sucking a breath from his teeth before opening his mouth to speak “Ah.. I think I'm kinda busy tomorrow, Drew asked if I could show her how to get better at sword fighting so I have to show her that… I think I'll be doing it for a while. Y’know how practice makes perfect but I'll let you know when I'm free.”

My lips pursed together for a moment looking at my shoes as he talks and finally looking back at him when he finishes “Oh okay.. Well yeah just let me know! See you later!” I hear him mumble a quick ‘yep night’ before turning around and walking off, I stand there for a moment almost waiting to see if he would look back and maybe try to catch a glimpse of me going in, but he didn't.

'Cause you got her on your arm and me in the wings

I'll get your longing glances, but she'll get your ring

And you will say you had the best of intentions

And maybe I will finally learn my lesson

Creeping back to my bunk as quietly as possible trying not to disturb any of my sleeping siblings, but forgetting about one extra creaky floorboard located directly next to one of my sister's bunks, at camp practically everyone is a light sleeper after having to go on a quest. A mess of tangles and a sleeping mask shot up before my sister Rey pulled it off her eyes to see me ‘doing the walk of shame’ as she once called it. “What are you doing awake…?” her voice quiet and still full of sleepiness “Oh yknoww I just hung out with Luke for a bit..”

She sat up a little straighter and gave me the same look Chris gave me this evening. “You saw Luke..? I thought you guys were like totally over…” “Well, not completely we just fell out a bit I'm going to see him again soon he just is going to help train campers for a bit y'know!” Her brows furrow and her mouth twists with disdain “Is that camper.. Drew?” leaning against a bedpost and starting to pick at my nails “I mean yeah but like-” A loud groan cuts me off “You're kidding. I'm not saying this to hurt your feelings but.. Do you really think they're training? It just seems like what you guys used to do if you ask me..”

She tucked herself back into the covers rolling over to stop facing me leaving me with a not so subtle hint. Walking to the bathroom to brush my teeth so i could finally sleep i find myself staring at my figure in the mirror longer, my hand dropping down to stop brushing setting it down on the sink, my lip starts to wobble again and the bitter sting filled my eyes again blurring my vision as i sunk to the floor to sit on the cool tiles for a bit. Drew and Luke were doing exactly what they used to do ‘training’ is Luke's code word for fucking. I knew that already, we used to use it often. But i thought if he saw me tonight then it couldn't be that. He wouldn't do that. But Luke would, he knows that I know those code words but Luke wouldn't do that…

Foolish one

Stop checkin' your mailbox for confessions of love

That ain't never gonna come

You will take the long way, you will take the long way down

Waking up felt like a chore this morning, the sun shining instead of being warm and inviting felt like it was melting me down into a pile of mush as I got up. Walking to the mess hall was worse seeing them sit together breaking the camper's sit with their cabin's rule, giggling into each other's ears like I saw them before. Walking past them to my table hoping he would spare me a glance just a small look that said ‘I'm only entertaining her for a bit and I'll be back’ but he was practically bewitched by her.

Ain't never gonna come

Ooh, you will learn the hard way now

Foolish one

Sittin' 'round waiting for confessions of love

They ain't never gonna come

A week passed by and he never came running back instead he ran around with her, when it finally sunk in the pitiful sorrys of my sibling and even a handful of Luke's friends came but they fell silent on my ears wallowing in my self-pity, shutting in my cabin for a bit before deciding I couldn't just shut myself in because I lost the 3rd most decent head of curls in camp. The night came crickets chirping, acting as my background music as I took my throw blanket off my bed to sneak out just to take a short walk to relax. Heading down the long path noticing fresh grass starting to grow back out of the scuffed dirt it brought a small grin back to my face which fell almost immediately at the sight of two figures in a oh so familiar spot.

And thinkin' he's the one, you should've been walkin' out

Foolish one

The day is gonna come for your confessions of love

When all is said and done, he just wasn't the one

No, he just wasn't the one

#luke castellan x reader #luke castellan #luke castellan fic #pjo #luke castellan angst

117 notes · View notes

liamloveslarry · 3 years

Text

The Boy Who Cried Wolf~

okay i’ve posted some snippets below and i’ve kept the general theme the story flows in so far, however it may not make sense as i’ve purposefully left some things out but i think u can get a general vibe from it hopefully, idk let me know what you think bc it’s been ages since i’ve picked this up and i would love to finish and post it soon!

tw for one use of derogatory language, violence, body horror/gore, swearing, experimentation, surgery & fictional medicines, mild nsfw, use of guns but at the beginning - these all sounds worse than they are, but it’s a werewolf fic so there had to be some element of ~horror.

The ground beneath Harry is hard and damp.

He can feel the wetness soak through into his already sodden socks from where his shoes had come off in the brawl, and it reminds him of being young and spilling ice cubes on the floor, trying to hastily clean the water up with his foot and feeling the cold cling to his toes.

He squeezes his fists together and bends his head between his knees, breathing deep.

There’s a chill in the air and the frost nips at his nude body, causing goosebumps to flare in his skins wake so fast it stings as they burst through his flesh.

His long hair acts as a barrier against the frigid air, but every time he rocks back, the metal bars stood tall behind him hiss against his skin and cause him to whimper and growl.

He looks up and wraps his arms around his knees, shielding what little modesty he has left.

He can see two guards standing either side of the cell, each holding firearms in their sturdy arms. Their fingers on the trigger ready to shoot if Harry so much as thought about doing something he shouldn’t.

There’s another body to the right of him that looks in bad condition. He can smell it before he sees it. The person’s leg appears to be injured judging by the sluggish trail of blood that’s pumping into a puddle on the floor, and there are multiple cuts and grazes across their torso and face.

Deep enough that Harry can see muscle and bone. Deep enough that Harry can’t tell if it’s a man or a woman.

If he focuses enough, he can hear them breathing.

Or maybe that’s just himself.

Harry’s feet scuffle on the floor as he tries to get a closer look, but it causes one of the guard’s head to twist towards him and narrow his eyes, gripping his gun even tighter as he opens his big, fat mouth.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you.” He growls.

Harry whips his head up and looks him in the eye. He retracts his arm slowly from where he was reaching out to touch the person’s pulse point and places it on the floor.

The guards face is pinched and sweaty, as if he’d be afraid of Harry if there wasn’t a thick barrier of metal between them. He can hear the hitch in his breath when does so much as blink, confirming the theory further that he’s more afraid of Harry than Harry is of him.

“What am I doing here?” His voice his shot and gruff, a reminder of just two hours previous when he’d been snarling and shouting, trying to tear chunks of flesh from their bodies out of fear while they’d held him down and stunned him into submissive shock.

He doesn’t remember much after being shoved into the back of a truck and led to where he assumes, he is now, cooped up in a dingy cell with a half rotting body and two wankers as company.

The guard punches out a laugh, the tip of the gun clanging against the metal as his body jerks forward. It causes Harry to wince as the sharp sound penetrates his ear drums.

“For a dog I thought you’d be smarter. But it looks like you’re just another dumb bitch.”

Harry’s fingers catch against the grain of the floor as the tip of his claw protrudes and causes the concrete to shift and crumble beneath him. He can’t help the rumble in his chest while the thought to bare his teeth becomes more prominent each second the guard smirks and cocks his gun mockingly at Harry’s head.

“Calm down puppy, it’s not even a full moon yet so I dunno why you’re gettin’ all hyped up.”

Harry doesn’t feel himself move but he can see the guard’s eyes sweep across his form, right from the tips of his toes to his hairline as he clenches his gun tighter, which means he now must be standing.

He knows better than to step forward, knowing he’ll probably get shot if he dares so much as inch his pinky out.

He can feel his bones shift and his muscles twinge, and there’s a deep throbbing coming from his thigh which he only notices now. As he casts his eyes down, he can see it’s torn and open. There must be something slowing the healing as usually something like that would’ve closed up by now.

“Tell me why I’m here.”

The guard cocks his eyebrow.

“No.”

Harry’s hands clasp into fists and he takes a deep breath.

“Tell me why I’m here.”

He can see the guard smirking, albeit if he narrows his eyes slightly, he can still see his pulse jumping under his skin as if trying to scramble from his body. He shifts his hip slightly to take the weight off his injured leg, causing his cock to slap against his thigh.

The guard’s eyes drift down and this time it’s Harry’s turn to smirk.

“What’s the matter? Never seen one this big before?”

The guards face turns red and he splutters, his pig face scrunching up as if he’d sucked on a sour lemon and he scrambles to point his gun through the bars and at Harry.

“Shut the fuck up you fucking dog! I swear to god I’ll blow your fucking brains out you mutt, you utter cu- “

“That’s enough.”

They both whip their head towards the second guard as his hand inches out and places it on the other guard’s gun, pushing it down slowly.

“You!”, he says, eyes piercing into the other man and gritting his teeth, “need to shut your fucking gob and stop riling Lassie up; and you!”, he turns and sweeps his gaze over Harry’s form, boots coming to rest against the edge of the metal, “need to stop asking so many sodding questions and shut up.”

Harry blinks down at his wet socks and frowns.

“Can I at least have some clothes?”

The second guards gaze lingers on his abdomen.

“No,” he smirks, eyes trailing upwards and resting on Harry’s face, “I’m rather enjoying the view.”

Harry growls out “fucking pervert” and doesn’t think twice before moves his foot forward, which causes the first guard to panic and fire his gun.

The bullet doesn’t pierce his skin, but it’s made of something hard and it smacks full force him in the chest, instantly knocking him backwards and winding him.

He can see both of the guards arguing and waving their arms at each other, but his hearing has gone woofy so he can’t understand what they’re saying.

The room is starting to spin and the pain in his thigh and upper chest are getting worse, causing Harry to sway on the spot and collapse onto his knees.

The last thing he remembers is the sound of an alarm before his vision blurs and turns to black.

It was dark by the time he’d left the office, nodding and waving at the receptionist who was sat in the tiny booth on his way out. It had also been raining, which Harry realises now he probably should’ve driven in, but the morning had been so frosty and clear with dew drops settling on autumn leaves, that he couldn’t help but walk through the winding paths and bramble bushes to get to work. Even if it did take him thirty minutes.

He remembers pulling his hood up and walking down the road until he reached a narrow ginnel that acted as a bridge between the small town and his house.

It had been here he’d been attacked.

At first, he thought it was just somebody mugging him and he knew it wasn’t best placed to chomp his way out of it, it wouldn’t look too good if a local hooligan had been found with teeth marks imprinted onto his skin, so he’d done his best to ignore him, promptly shoving them off; only to realise there was two of them and one had what looked to be a gun.

Stunned, he’d tried to run but they’d pinned him down and cast a sickening blow to his stomach. It had caused Harry to go into sensory overload as he could smell the cheap cigarette smoke on their collars and their nasty breath wafting up his nostrils, causing him to heave and snarl. It was only a matter of time before his abilities kicked in and his claws and teeth had decided to make an appearance. He’d nicked of the men on his jaw and tried to bite his neck, but the other man held an electric rod against his ribs and shocked him.

She’s fair skinned and has light brown hair that’s held up in a ponytail. She doesn’t say much as she checks the stats on the monitor screen, but Harry does his best to smile whenever she looks over at him.

“Hey. What’s your name?”

She startles and nearly drops her clipboard, grasping it at the last second before it falls to the floor. She looks at him wide eyed and says nothing.

“I’m not going to do anything, I promise”. He grins and wiggles his fingers slightly in the straps. “Not like I can do anything, anyway.”

She stares at him for a beat longer and lowers her head.

“Mary.” She mumbles, fiddling with the pen and twisting it in her fingers.

Harry smiles again and tries to get her to look up.

“Mary. That’s a nice name. My name’s Harry, but I’m guessing you already know that.”

She blushes and looks away, busying herself with the buttons on the monitor and biting her bottom lip.

She’s nervous, Harry can sense it. But if he wants to get out of here semi-unscathed, he needs to play nice with those who so far, haven’t been very nice to him. She seems kind enough anyway, judging by the fact that she wasn’t poking any fingers into his wounds or prodding at his teeth.

“I know you probably can’t say much, and I understand that; I really do, but.” He sighs and looks down. “Please can you tell me where I am?”

She continues to ignore him, taking out a needle and flicking the cap. She pumps it a few times and Harry watches as the liquid inside begins to bubble up.

She goes to inject the tip into his thigh but he catches her wrist just as she was about to press in, claws forming a shield around her delicate bone.

She looks up at him wide eyed, her breathing heavy and scared.

“Mary, please. Please tell me where I am. I won’t let go until you say something.” He can feel her small hand trembling but he isn’t going to give up without a fight.

Her fingers squeeze tighter around the needle and she tries to force the tip into his skin, but his hold is stronger and she lets out a gasp.

“Please stop, you’re hurting me.”

“I’m sorry, I will, I promise. But not until after you tell me where I am.”

Her fingers seem to seize and stop, dropping the instrument onto the bed and her quiet, shaking voice splits the silence open like a knife cutting through paper.

He can smell the winter air and the frost settles in his bones, calming him instantly. He’s also very aware that he’s still in a gown and participating in a full moon event of his own.

He’s about to step over the threshold when a hand tugs him back.

Harry turns around, and he sees Mary for the kid she is. Barely an adult and shivering in the cold.

Her nose has turned red already.

He lets out a ragged sob and pounds his fist against the floor. He tries to move his leg and bend his arms to press against the solid ground so he can at least heave himself up when he notices a beaming light coming towards him. He turns his head and sees through tears, rain and the dirt prickling his eyelids, the headlights of a car that’s heading his way.

The car eventually slows down to a stop in front of him, but he can’t see much through the business of the windscreen wipers and the headlights shining in his eyes. He must look a right state right now, and he’s shocked the car even stopped for him.

If it was him, he would’ve kept on driving.

There’s a click and the engine turns off. The lights stay on, albeit they’re dimmed a touch.

The car door opens from the driver’s side and a man dressed in a parka and joggers hesitantly makes his way around the front of the car.

There’s silence for a few moments until the man opens his mouth.

Harry doesn’t know how long they drive for. He’s content to just let the sound of the quiet radio wash over him while he huddles into the blanket more, directing his toes underneath the heater. He appreciates that Louis probably has a multitude of questions he’s dying to ask, but instead he keeps his mouth shut, humming along to the radio every now and then.

They drive through the tiny town of Barnstable and the car jostles as they drive over cobbled streets and the sporadic pothole. The occasional light flickers from the shore to the right of them, but other than that the streets are as dark and as quiet as the night sky.

They tumble upwards towards a hill and Louis leads them through winding roads and sharp bends. On a particularly keen one, the car lingers to one side and Harry’s thigh moves with the turn, bashing slightly against the inside of the car door.

He winces and Louis catches it, sending a look of sympathy his way.

“Sorry, mate. Won’t be long now – another couple of minutes.” He nods down at Harry’s leg which has started to seep blood through the material. “We’ll get that patched up straight away, just try and keep some pressure on it for now.”

Harry takes a deep breath and nods, wrapping a part of the blanket around his fist and pressing it harder against the wound.

He grabs some shampoo from the holder that’s stuck to the wall and squirts a generous amount into his palm, rubbing his hands together and lathering it through the strands. He does the same with the shower gel and starts to wash his body as he thinks.

What he remembers from the night feels fragmented and broken, tail ends of memories flashing before they disappear. He sighs and dips his head backwards underneath the water and washes the shampoo out.

Whatever they shot him with must’ve delayed or hindered his healing abilities as usually anything superficial or worse, only takes around an hour to heal. Granted he’s never been shot before, it should’ve only taken a little longer before it had fully closed up, instead it had gotten worse the longer the bullet had been trapped inside his leg, rooted underneath muscle and skin.

He looks down and feels as well as sees, his skin starting to knit back together. Bits of flesh fusing as one around the stitches like solder to an iron. He doesn’t know what he’ll say to Louis in terms of there no longer being a wound or a scar left in its wake, but he figures he probably doesn’t need to be semi-nude around him again, so he decides not to say anything.

He scrubs the last remnants of dirt from his body and turns to switch the shower off, taking his time to grab the towel left for him on the radiator and wrapping it around his waist.

He pads over to the mirror and looks at his reflection.

His eyes are slightly bloodshot and his cheekbones look hallow. His long hair is dripping lukewarm water down his chest and onto the floor, but he can’t find the energy in him to do something about it.

He spins towards Harry, blue eyes tired and sleepy, with a soft smile etched onto his face. He lifts his arm to ruffle the back of his hair and his arm muscle expands slightly, filling out the sleeve of his hoodie. It makes Harry swallow, a quiet click due to his dry throat echoing through the room.

“You’ll be okay in here, right?” Louis asks. “You know where the bathroom is and there’s some spare toothbrushes in the drawer, feel free to get up when you want and have another shower and stu- oh!” Louis pauses and places his hand into his hoodie pocket, pulling a small box out. “There’s some paracetamol here in case you need them in the middle of the night for your leg – pretty sure there’s a spare glass in the bathroom too, just in case you didn’t wanna stick your head under the tap.” He places the box down onto the bedside table and throws a smile Harry’s way.

Harry won’t need them but he nods and smiles anyway, yawning out a thank you. He forgets momentarily that Louis is still in the room when he starts taking the hoodie off, and only remembers when a cough sounds out against the silence and he whips his head up.

Harry unclicks his seatbelt and goes to open the car door when Louis’ hand stops him. He turns back.

Tired, green eyes meet concerned, blue ones.

“Just.” Louis pauses. “Just be careful out there, okay?” Harry stays silent while Louis’ fingers tighten around his arm.

It doesn’t feel unsafe.

“When I found you, I thought you were dead. I haven’t asked you what happened because I assumed you’d tell me when you were ready. And you still don’t have to if you don’t want to.” He rushes to say, then pauses to stroke his thumb lightly over Harry’s arm, hair standing to attention and swaying under soft material and fingertips. “So just, be careful. Please.”

His eyes feel like they’re boring into Harry’s soul, each pupil filled with worry and pleading as if for Harry to promise him. Harry doesn’t know what to do, so he gently places his hand on top of Louis’ and smiles kindly.

“I promise. It was just a,” how does he word this “– a bad night. And hopefully it won’t happen again.” He figures he might have to verbalize what happened one day, but today is not that day. Where would he even start? ‘Thanks for saving my life and oh, by the way, I’m a werewolf?’

One headache is enough for now.

Louis looks at him for a second longer and breathes out, squeezing his arm one last time and dropping his hand back down, resting it on his thigh.

“I’ll call you.”

Harry nods and opens the car door, turning back one last time.

“Thank you, for everything.”

Making his way through to the living room, he flicks the light on and watches as dust bunnies flit about the air, as if to say welcome home. The machine to the right of him is flashing relentlessly, signifying there are messages waiting for him. He presses the voicemail button and listens as a robotic voice, followed by a woman’s, floats through the speaker.

Beep. Three new messages.

Beep. First Message.

“Hi, love. It’s only me. Just checking to make sure you’re alright? I know you said you had a busy week so wanted to catch up before the weekend.”

Beep. End of first message.

Beep. Second message.

“Hi, Harry. Me again. Not sure if you got my first message and I know you’re probably having a minute to yourself after work, but just give me a call back when you get this.”

Beep. End of second message.

Beep. Third message.

“Harry, it’s me. It’s nearly 8 o’clock and I haven’t heard anything. I’m starting to worry, will you ring me back, please? I swear to god if something’s happe-yes! I’m ringing him again, he’s not answering, Har-”

Beep. End of third message.

No more messages.

If he listens carefully enough, he can hear the hedgehog’s tiny teeth tear through the slop, gurgling as he swallows. Small wheezes puff through his narrow nostrils when he pauses, the spikes on his back sparkling under the stars. Harry’s eyes adjust better than any humans could while his ears hone in on the sounds around him. Voles and mice race through the grass, snatching worms and bugs alike. Owls hoot in the distance while foxes rummage through bins, rubbish galore. He can even hear the moths fluttering their tiny wings as they quiver and vibrate through the dark.

The plate is nearly empty when he hears something snap. Even Bob pauses licking the ceramic to sniff the air; black, beady eyes darting right to left. He must think they’re in the clear when he starts moving again, nifty nose nudging through wet food. Harry continues to watch the garden when he hears another snap.

This time it’s louder.

Claws replace fingernails and grip the step below him, twists of PVC twirling underneath sharp talons as they’re sliced from the ledge.

Forgive him for he usually wouldn’t be this on edge, however getting oneself kidnapped and tortured has made even the scariest of monsters slightly fearful.

Though his eyesight is much like that of a hawk, he can’t see anything out of the ordinary. The bushes and leaves sway slowly in the breeze, every now and then a hoot echoes in the distance.

He stops breathing when he feels something brush against his ankle and his claws pierce the delicate skin of his palm; but he realises when he looks down that it’s just Bob nuzzling between his sock clad feet, trying to reach a meaty grub that’s getting away. He lets out a sigh and closes his eyes, counting to ten in his head. He shifts his feet so his three-legged friend can reach his dessert. He decides it’s enough for one night and reaches down to pick the plate up. He stands and casts his eyes around the garden one more time, settling on a tree branch that rests over the fence. He doesn’t know how long he stares at it until he feels the chill of the air whip against his face. Blinking out of his stupor, he shakes his head and lets out a small huff, breath casting white shapes into the cold air.

“Bed,” he whispers, “just go to bed, Harry.”

It’s the middle of the night when he needs the toilet, bladder unrelenting as he shuffles sleepily out of the tent, torch in one hand as he makes his way over to a nearby tree. He’s resting his palm against the trunk when he hears a snap and a low moan coming from somewhere next to him. He tries to hurry his peeing as fast as he can, shaking himself off and guiding himself back into his shorts when something barges into him, slamming him down onto the forest floor.

His head knocks against the ground and he groans, mind going fuzzy. He can’t see for shit what’s on top of him but it’s dark and big and it’s groaning. Rumbling screams clutching at his bones. He tries to shake it off but it’s larger than Harry, at least seven foot and it drags him about like prey. He goes limp and cold, as if his mind is disconnected from his body. All he can remember is a white-hot flash of pain from where the thing had sunken its jaws into Harry’s side, teeth seizing around his rib cage and pulling, twisting, sinking. He remembers trying to scream but no sound escaped his lips. It was like he was watching from above. Watching as his body was tugged and heaved from left to right. Sharp claws scratched and hooked at his hip bones, making sure he couldn’t get away.

He could feel blood oozing out from where he’d been bitten and torn at, and the pain he felt was almost blinding. His fingers twitched at his side until they felt something smooth and hard. In a moment of sheer adrenaline, Harry had lifted what he assumed was a rock and slammed it down onto the thing’s head, once, twice, three times. Until its jaws had become loose and its teeth unclenched from around his bones. Blood spurted onto his face, lining his lips and staining his eyelashes. The thing went limp and sagged against Harry’s body, white eyes rolling back into its split skull as it shivered, seized and stopped.

He remembers pushing it off his body as best he could and trying to scramble away from it, bare feet and toes digging into the soft earth as he pushed himself backwards. He gulped when he hit the back of a tree and lay panting, hands shaking as they touched his side, feeling nothing but hollow bone and air. Looking down there was only red. Torn flesh and muscle protruding and dangling down as if no longer part of his body.

He remembers sobbing as he blinked through the tears and tried to get a good look at the figure lying dead in front of him. Holding both hands against where he’d been bitten and pulled apart like leftovers.

He remembers looking up at the sky above him, the moon big and bold as she stared back at him.

He remembers feeling like he was going to die.

A book is placed into Harry’s hands and he looks confused at the two men before Zayn just nods his head at the item, encouraging Harry to open it.

“What is this?” He asks.

“Just read it.” Niall says, blinking at Harry.

It’s black and the corners are worn. It isn’t a big book either by any means, but it’s chunky and smells of old leather. Indented in gold on the front page are what look to be like nymphs and needles, wound tight around flesh as if both are becoming one. He turns to the first page and registers the thin, waxy paper.

Harry nods, doesn’t feel as though he can speak properly before stepping onto the train. His foot barely reaches the entry when his name is called behind him. He turns his head and sees Zayn walking up to him.

“I,” he coughs, looking around him a touch awkwardly, Niall turns away and bends down, pretending to busy himself with his shoelace. “Stay safe, yeah?”

He pulls something out of his pocket and presses it into Harry’s hand. “Call us if you need us, anytime. I mean it.”

And with that he’s spinning around and walking up to Niall, clapping him on the back and nodding towards the exit. Harry tightens his fist around whatever Zayn had given him and ducks into the carriage, finding a seat near the far back and sitting down.

He rests his head against the cool glass and shuts his eyes.

Tries to keep his racing thoughts from becoming nightmares.

Page 37.

Sally.

ne.re.id. sea.nymph. mer.ma.id.

August 13th 1989. 15:07pm.

Found near the North coast of Portknockie in Scotland. Terrain is rocky and waves were at high speed. Out of plain sight to any passersby, however not so hidden she wouldn’t have been spotted by cliff dwellers. Water is salty meaning she has not swum from any freshwater rivers or lakes. Around 250cm in length, including the tail which has been jaggedly severed from fin upwards. The creature is unconscious but has a strong heartbeat. A mixture of morphine and hematide has been administered into the left arm of the creature and she remains stable.

Despite her long frame, she has a petite torso and fine hair decorating her entire upper half. Subject has dark hair and green eyes. They seem to change to lilac under fluorescent lighting while her pupils dilate. She speaks in broken sentences, mostly garbled hums and high-pitched warbles.

Subject has webbed fingers and sharp nails. Subject also does not have a belly button nor any eyebrows.

Harry’s fingers freeze around the handle of his mug and he places it down onto the table shakily, taking another steady breath inwards. Outside the bin men are talking joyously as the disposal unit crunches in the distance while the neighbours next door are having yet another argument about who’s turn it is on the computer. But nothing registers, and Harry can only focus on the words standing stark against yellow stained paper below him.

September 7th 1989. 14:24pm.

Subject ‘Sally’ has been prepped for surgery. Subomunex was dispensed into the subject’s neck gills. We have found this to be most effective when operating on water-based creatures as it releases certain toxins and nutrients to ensure the subject can breathe without the need for H20.

Research into the common cold occurred almost one year ago, and we have found certain elements that make up a nereid’s larynx fight most, if not all symptoms of a ‘sore throat’. Today we shall create a medium incision into the subject’s neck muscle and remove the larynx, most commonly known as the voice box, from the subject’s throat. Delicate strands of tissue and muscle will be removed and sent to the Section B lab where it will be tested and if successful, dispensed into edible capsules and distributed among Pharmacies across the UK.

A tiny proportion of the larynx’s genetic makeup will be extracted and re-created to ensure there is enough material for us to provide in the long term.

There’s a picture underneath the paragraph of what looks to be a theatre and Sally stretched out along a bed, four doctors are also in the photo, two standing either side of the creature and if Harry squints, he can see their smiles through their surgical masks.

“H-hello?”

There’s silence before the other person speaks.

“Uh…is this Harry?”

He doesn’t register the voice and his brows furrow in confusion, nose sniffling.

“Uh, yeah? Who’s this?”

“It’s um, Louis?” the voice replies, “I picked you up from the middle of the road, uh. About a week ago?”

God, has it really only been a week?

All of a sudden, his eyes widen in stark realisation and he clutches the phone tighter in the palm of his hand.

“Oh! God, I’m so sorry, hi. How are you?”

There’s a little huff of laughter and Harry imagines Louis’ eyes crinkling.

“Yeah, I’m alright, mate. Are you? You sound a little…off.”

Harry leans against the living room wall and rolls his head sideways, “uh,” he glances at the book, “just a sad film, proper got to me, had a little cry as you do.”

“I should probably leave.” Harry says, and carefully dislodges Cliff’s head from his leg, placing it down gently onto the couch cushion beneath him. He doesn’t even move, just wiggles his back slightly and twitches his paw from where it’s resting in mid-air.

“If this is about you dribbling on me, I really don’t care. I’ve had worse things on me.”

Harry’s blush darkens, and he mumbles out, “it’s not about the dribble thing, I just think I should go.”

He stands up and makes his way into the hallway, vaguely aware Louis is talking to him, but the words are muffled against the heavy sound of Harry’s beating heart. He grabs one of his shoes and slips it on his foot, patting down his chest and pockets, trying to search for his keys while shielding his face so Louis doesn’t see how red his cheeks have become.

“-think you should just stay the night.”

Harry’s in the middle of slipping on his other shoe, when he braces his arm against the wall to stop him from tripping up, and turns to face Louis who’s piercing Harry with his gaze, despite the warm flush that’s expanding across his face.

“What?”

“I said, I think you should just stay the night.”

“I-,”

“I don’t mean, um,” Louis huffs a laugh, a telltale pink blooming on his cheeks, “in my room, or anything. I meant the spare room again, if you want?” He places his hands into his jean pockets and rocks back a little on his feet, “it’s just really frosty outside, and dark, so I’d feel pretty shitty if I let you drive back now.”

“Lou-“

“Sorry if it sounds like I’m being pushy, I don’t mind, really! It’s just,” he sighs, lips pursing and fingers reaching out to scratch at the chipped paint on the wall, “I’d just hate for something to happen, y’know, like last time,” he murmurs quietly, a sad sort of smile sweeps across his lips and he looks down, shrugging his shoulders.

You’d think what happened that night fucked him up a little too.

Maybe it did.

After all, he was the one who made sure Harry was alright and pulled a bullet from his leg, right over where Harry casts his eyes into the kitchen.

He groans and lifts his body to sit upright, leaning down and massaging his leg with his hand.

He drops his head forward and sighs, insides feeling like they were going to jump out of his skin any second and run off the excess energy without him. He stands up and stretches, fingers pointing upwards towards the ceiling while his back cracked along his spine.

It felt like a shift, bones and muscles repositioning under flesh, like tectonic plates moving and slotting into the different crevices of his body. But it wasn’t time, and Harry had learned to control the urge quite early on after he’d found himself naked in the local park after a midnight stint, bleary eyes opening to find ducks quacking nervously in the pond and a jogger staring at him with his mouth hanging open; probably wondering what he was doing lying there nude at four in the morning. He wasn’t too far from home that he couldn’t sprint back in time that nobody else noticed him, covering his delicate parts with his hands as he ran through the streets in the milky morning light.

His clothes had been torn to shreds and he doesn’t remember much, not a great deal of evidence either from the night before other than the dirt that had gathered underneath his fingernails and twigs in his hair. He also felt different somehow, as if his body finally relaxed into itself and took one huge breath out.

Louis slides the door fully open then and steps into the room, toes sinking into the plush carpet beneath him. He isn’t wearing anything other than his boxers and Harry’s very aware he’s in just the same.

“Can’t sleep?”

Harry shakes his head, fingers spreading out along the bed and clutching at the tight bottom sheet, trying hard not to think about how Louis’ shut the door behind him, not fully, but just enough to bathe the majority of the room in moonlight and heavy whispers.

“Me neither.” Louis huffs, lips morphing into a small smile and feet shuffling forward. “Feel like my body’s just pent up, y’know? Usually I’m out like a light.”

“Same.” Harry replies. “My brain won’t switch off so I’ve just been,” don’t tell him you’ve been snooping, “counting sheep.”

“And the bang?” Louis laughs.

“Oh! Uh, I just got up for some water and tripped into the bedside table.”

Harry doesn’t think about how it’s becoming easier and easier to lie.

“Do you need anything for it?” Louis asks, coming closer as if trying to inspect Harry’s foot. His toes scrunch inward under the careful scrutiny, as if they don’t want Louis to see how unblemished they really are.

There’re only a few feet between them now and Harry can feel the sleepy heat radiating from Louis’s body, can count the chest hairs that sit between his pecs and can smell the fabric conditioner of his bed sheets caught up in the hairs on his arms.

“No, I think I’m good.” He swallows, throat clicking and fingertips twitching beside him as if they’re aching to reach out and feel just how soft Louis’ skin is underneath quivering patterns of swirly flesh.

“Okay.” Louis whispers, eyelids blinking slowly, heavy with heady want, tongue inching out to lick his dry lips.

#the boy who cried wolf #mine #pls dont post this anywhere #i know its long but it would be lovely if u could tell me what u think #i know its a little different #sally is my fave but im biased #sorry not sorry for leaving it on a cliffhanger

19 notes · View notes

oingo233 · 3 years

Text

Rapture is a Boy (7)

Summary: Remus and you have always had a playful, loving relationship but his behavior around the full moon leads you to assume the worst. A huge fight ends with the two of you heartbroken. Will Remus reveal the truth behind his behavior? And will you still love him afterwards or has he truly lost you forever?

Young Remus Lupin x Reader(neutral)

Warning: cussing, some school taunting/bulling?(very brief and not anything super bad, like under the cut), ABBA mania/silliness

Authors Note: For best experience I have linked the song in the song title so you can listen while you read. I wrote this in a haze of excitement, it is just so silly but I have no trouble believing the Marauders would completely embarrass themselves like this for someone they love. Enjoy!

Word Count: 3.2k

Part One - Part Two - Part Three - Part Four - Part Five - Part Six - Part Seven - Part Eight

Part Seven

****Take A Chance On Me****

The great hall was silent, I had to actively keep my eyes off of the boys just a couple seats down. Lily was trying her hardest not to stare with longing and regret too. I placed my hand within hers and squeezed as if to say I’m here for you, and though it isn’t my fault, I’m sorry. She squeezed my hand back, returning the sentiments, and bounced back with a smile, pretending to be happier than she was. I wanted to roll my eyes at her change of mood but instead I appreciate the attempt to brighten the morning. You can always count on Lily Evans to empathize and surprise in every situation.

We heard it before we saw it. Loud, pulsing sound. As it got closer I couldn’t help the gasp that fell embarrassingly loud from my mouth. It was one of our favorite muggle bands, Abba, their song was blasting through corridors Take a Chance on Me, but there was no lyrics yet, just the background music as if waiting for the performers. Just like it had countless times before on karaoke nights with the marauders.

Suddenly, the great hall doors were slammed open by two large flying speakers, obviously charmed. A feeling of knowing washed over me and I whip my head towards the boys. Just in time to watch as they climb onto the table, their faces adorned with a beautiful blue color, Remus in gold.

Lily sucked in a deep breath beside me while watching James standing tall despite the spouts of laughter. Sirius throws off his robe, it lands on the head of a flabbergasted Gryffindor, Sirius is revealed to be wearing bright blue bell bottom sparkly pants, his white school button up is tucked underneath.

Remus was right after him, throwing off his robes and ripping off his shirt. Buttons flew onto the people around them but no one paid them any mind. All eyes were on the infamous Marauders, because Remus was now wearing a sparkly blue jumpsuit just like the ones ABBA preform in, with flare pants as to match the rest of the boys His gold lips sparkled and I had to stop myself from wanting to kiss him senseless. His eyes seemed even brighter under the gold hue of his makeup, he was golden.

Nothing was more attractive then the confidence and savvy of the boys before us(didn’t help that I had a fat crush on David Bowie and ABBA). Nothing sweeter than the way they stood and smiled at Lily and I while everyone around us laughed, pointed, whispered and some even smiling themselves.

Sirius picked up a cup by his foot, while James threw off his own robes, wearing an ABBA band shirt Lily bought him ages ago, he was wearing swaying bell bottoms too. Peter flipped his robe inside out to reveal the other side as bright blue with obviously badly glued on glitter, clusters of glitter fell on the table very time he nervously tapped his foot.

Remus brought his wand to his lips, as if a microphone and somehow the lanterns around us dimmed.

Dumbledore cleared his throat, getting over the shock much faster than everyone else, but whatever he was going to say was cut off as the music started to play from the very beginning and this time the voices of four boys joined in, singing the lyrics.

The lights flashed as James sang first, his voice cracking and in the fleeting light you could see him blush. Lily slapped my arm in shock and excitement. Then light flashes again like lightning, as Sirius joined in, singing much louder, he always said he’d like to be a rock star just once (granted this is much different, but he will no doubt pretend there is no difference at all). The next light cued in Peter who sang with his eyes closed, his voice shaking with nerves but he new every line.

It wasn’t until the second verse that their voices died down and the lanterns illuminated the great hall completely again as Remus’s voice rang out strong and clear. His eyes on me. His voice took my breath away, he sounded both awful and yet beautiful.

“If you’re all alone,” he sings, “When the pretty birds have flown,” gasps join in with the music as hundreds of paper doves fly in through the doors, whizzing past me and putting my hair in array, then soaring way over my head, circling up in the ceiling. I could hear Professor McGonagall stifle both her surprise and joy. Everyone was laughing and cheering, but then silence fell again to listen. I could not take my eyes off of Remus, who in turn, would not take his eyes off of me.

“Honey, I’m still free, Take a chance on me...” He must have finished his solo part because the boys start to sing along after that and they all begin to strut down the table towards us like a cat walk. Remus stops just short of us and hops, on beat, off of the table.

Peter, James and Sirius walk right towards me. Sirius slitting his eyes and stooping low, pointing at me with one hand as he sings into the cup with the other. They all stand in front of Lily and I, hips shaking to the beat and James has eyes for Lily only. All the boys sang to us in union.

“If you need me, let me know, gonna be around,” Sirius eye’s turning oddly soft as they sang, “If you've got no place to go, if you're feeling down.“

Then they quickly turn towards the crowd again, but I felt it. I felt their hidden apology. For the first time in days I felt some of my anger and sadness slip from me, with every lyric, and every bright, bashful smile. My anger left me as they sang and embarrassed themselves for the sake of a grand apology.

Lily started to laugh. She doubled over and tried to hide her smile with a hand but it was just too ridiculous, all of it really was. James did a double-take when he saw this, then he broke out into the biggest smile I’ve ever seen, and his voice no longer sounded so shy. I start giggling myself as Sirius jumps off the table like a rock n roller and dances over to Minnie and Dumbledore, their foot tapping did not go unnoticed by him.

James waltz over to Lily and bows low before her, extending his arm, he sings “We can go dancing,” Lily giggled and takes his hand, she surprises everyone and joins in

“We can go walking,” She sings. James smirks and carries on with a raised brow.

“As long as we’re together...” Then he runs with her past the table, his pants waving and tossing, Lily’s laughing uncontrollably by his side, joining in indefinitely for the song. Remus’s voice still rang loudest over the boys, my eyes searching for him in the room, I seem to have lost him in the commotion of others jumping up and dancing, and the sweet moment between James and Lily.

Then their voices left the serenade and once more it was just Remus. He sounded so close to me, I turned around and my heart did a back flip. He was right behind me, smiling sadly as he say...

“When I dream I'm alone with you, it's magic You want me to leave it there Afraid of a love affair But I think you know that I can't let go” Remus sings, everyone falling quite again as the lights dim once more and a single light is glowing above us. It was in the shape of a white butterfly, and a shooting star darting around it. The great hall grew silent once more. Dumbledore’s voice was heard quietly singing the song, for the music has died down, Minnie hit him and watched us anxiously.

She only grew tenser as Remus sang without music, he looked so vulnerable under the soft white glow and under the eyes of everyone in the room. But above that, he was being vulnerable to me, his voice more of a plead than song.

“If you change your mind, I'm the first in line Honey I'm still free, take a chance on me If you need me, let me know, gonna be around If you've got no place to go, if you're feeling down,” He finished with baited breath, despite his lungs begging for more, he was too focused on what I would do next. I take a deep breath and stop fighting the feelings inside of me. I smile brightly up at him, using my own wand, I bring it up to my lips like a microphone too.

“If you’re all alone, when the pretty birds have flown. Honey, I’m still free, take a chance on me.” I sing. Remus’s face lights up with bubbling laughter and pure joy. He takes me in his arms and spins me around, while we embrace the music and lights are back on and everyone in the great hall is singing. Minnie and Dumbledore included, she is smiling at us.

Remus stops spinning and is just standing before me now, very still, as if he was debating whether this is all a dream or not. His glittering eyes boring into mine with such strong emotions I felt trapped, utterly entranced. The words of the song rush through me like the wind, he grabbed my hand softly, and led us both on top of the table.

“Let me tell you now. My love is strong enough, To last when things get rough, it’s magic.” As he sings those sweet words, magic fireworks erupt above us in little cheesy hearts of red. Students around us are overjoyed, up themselves and twirling around, dancing. Many gasped and awed at the fireworks, but nothing was more astonishing than what happened next.

****

Now, was what happens next petty? Yes. Did it land all of the Marauder detention? Yes. Did any of us enjoy the scene any less? Not at fucking all...

****

All the birds swooped down in a cloud of white, their paper wings rustling against one another. They moved like the wind, swooping as one to the right side of the room and then drifting swiftly to the left until they got lower and lower. Until they were right over Lucy Diamond.

I stopped dancing with Remus and stood still, along with most of the students and teachers I was watching the birds. But Remus was still singling softly into my ear, his voice dripped with mischief, the other boys still sang as well, sounding just as suspicious, but otherwise unbothered.

Then the birds broke formation and with every hit of the drum a bird flew down over the top of Lucy’s head, and very quickly shits something atop her head. Each one falls softly, it does not hurt her, but upon impact they break open and release the most god awful smell. Lucy can’t stop screaming, she tries to get up and run but the birds follow her out the door.

Stink bomb after stink bomb was dropped atop her head. The Great Hall was alive with laughter, but perhaps the loudest of all, was my own. Remus was stilling humming in my ear, highly amused he let himself watch too until Lucy was gone from sight.

“Oh, Remus,” I say, laughing loudly, “That is evil.” He laughs too, looking down at me he shrugs. We look at each other and nod, “She deserves it.” We say in union before laughing again.

But then the music screeched to a halt, silence overtook us in waves and drowned us as Dumbledore stood up, his wand being tucked back into his robes.

“Mr.Remus Lupin,” he starts slowly, his low voice gathering everyone’s attention, “Mr.Sirius Black. Mr.James Potter and Mr.Peter Pettigrew. I assume this is of your doing?” He inquires, though the answer is obvious. The boys swallow thickly, nodding their heads. I squeeze Remus’s hand and he shoots me a quick, lopsided smile. Everyone was feeling a bit uneasy, maybe even guilty.

“mmmh,” He nods, “Thought so. Though I always appreciate a dance number, the stink bombs are what concern me most. The four of you will have detention this afternoon, and whatever else Professor McGonagall deems appropriate.” He sits back down, and the student body are unsure of where the look. At Dumbledore, Minnie, or the boys in trouble.

“Yes, Professor.” They all say at once. After a while of the stiff silence everyone goes back to their seats. It wasn’t long before everyone was talking animatedly about what just happened.

“I’ve never seen a thing like it...”One says.

“The makeup’s nice, innit?”

“Yeah, but the pants are god awful.” “Nonesense, have you ever even seen ABBA?’’

Lily and I find ourselves sitting next to the boys again, stupefied by the whole event. I felt overjoyed and confused and surely surprised. I never thought in all my life, I’d be lucky enough to see the Marauders perform ABBA in such attire, at Hogwarts nonetheless.

“So..whatcha’ think? Think I’ll make a good rock star, huh? I knew it was for me.” Sirius starts, flaunting his bandana and not bothering to put his robe back on.

“I didn’t know I had it in me. Merlin, did ya see me shaking, Remus?” Peter says excitedly. Remus turns to him with a bright smile, nodding his head.

“All of ya were just great. Peter memorized the footwork better, though.” Remus says, James wacks his arm.

“Did not, I worked hard on that. Lily liked it. Didn’t cha?” James turns to Lily, who much like me, is still blushing mad. She can only nod. We were still trying to process our shock, and Remus’s golden lips and glowing eyes weren’t making it any easier for me. I’m sure the blue on James had the same affect on Lily.

“But..uhm,” Remus clears his throat, looking rather nervous he turns to me now, “What did you think of it?” He fidgets while I looked for my answer, smiling at the mere memory of minutes ago.

“I thought it was...grand! Shocked me half to death ya did!” I can’t help my voice raising and contorting with my waves of emotions, happy, surprised, impressed and underneath it all, discontent. I lean into Remus, he leans into me, so his ear is close to my mouth, just like when we’d whisper in class. The others talk around us, but we fall into our own world.

“But I need more than just a song, Remus. I need answers. A real conversation, ya know?” I ask, nervous he’ll take it wrong. His actions proved how much he wanted me back, hell he was willing to tarnish his reputation and mortify himself in front of everyone for me. I wanted to make it work just as much, so I hoped he understands that for this to work, we need honesty. He nods eagerly behind me, turning to me with a soft smile.

“I know. You deserve nothing less than the whole truth. Because you’re right, I’ve never cheated on you once,” I nod at him, I’ve gathered that much from Sirius and James’s comments, but my heart still felt lighter at the confession, “But I have been lying to you.” My heart sank at his words and I sat in silence, waiting for more. He took in my reaction and rushes out the rest, as if scared I’ll leave him again. “But I plan on never lying to you again, starting with tonight. After my detention. And (y/n)... I am so sorry for everything that has happened between us.” The intensity in his eyes glue me in place even as the bell chimes, signifying the end of breakfast.

“Here, take this.” He slips a note into my hand, kissing me on the cheek. “It has everything you need to know for my...full apology.” He glances uneasily at the staring students and we both turn to the sound of James’s voice calling for Remus. Remus gives him a thumbs up and turns towards me again.

“I’ve got to go...er change out of this.” He says, shaking his leg as the pants float and toss around his ankles, I throw my head back and laugh. Taking him in fully, his chest hair poke out from the v-neck and the suit covered the rest of him tightly. He looked both hot and ridicules.

“Yes, please do.” I say, but take his hand and twirl him. He twirls with a blush, doing a little dance with his shoulders as he does. He stumbles slightly and I steady him, low and behold he was wearing platforms too. I can’t help but laugh once more. “But keep the get up, yeah? Not too shabby, Mr.Remus Lupin.” I take on the tone of Dumbledore at the end and he laughs.

“See you in first period?” He asks, anxiety slipping through his voice again. It was still weird for us to be talking again, yet all too natural.

“Of course not, when have I ever seen you in the class we share together?” He rolls his eyes at my sarcasm, but doesn’t bother to fight his huge smile, the same one that hasn’t left his face since we danced atop the table.

“I embarrass myself in front of the whole bloody school and ya still have all that sass. Guess we’ll have to fix that later then.” He says, suggestively winking. I laugh and push him towards the great hall doors, we were some of the few people still there.

“Don’t try and seduce me dressed as Benny Andersson, and especially when I’m still mad at you. Cause I am still mad at you, ya know?” I say, our moods sobering slightly. He smiles sadly.

“I know,’ He says, sighing he glances back at boys who are already walking up the stairs, ready to change and beyond waiting with how many people are taking pictures and laughing. “But I will make it up to you, I promise.” He gives me one last smile before turning around and racing up the stairs.

I smile to myself and shake my head, re-playing the events in my mind and reminding myself to ask for some of those moving pictures of the boys. I meet up with Lily and together we walk to class, we can’t shut up about what happened.

Several times we’ve recounted it to one another and made so many jokes we were crying with laughter by the time we reached class. She left me by the door, to make her way to her class not too far from mine. While I waited for Remus and the other boys to walk through the door I pulled out the note Remus gave me and read the contents.

Dear (y/n),

At 8 tonight make your way over to Hagrid’s hut. He’s always had an abundance of creature around there.

All my love to you,

Remus

I tucked the note away with curiosity bubbling all throughout me until I had to bounce my leg in an attempt to calm myself down. I’ve went through far to much emotion in this short morning. This day will go by slowly I take it.

Suddenly, Minnie walks through the door to personally inform our teacher that Remus, Sirius and James will not be attending this morning. Part of their punishment requires them elsewhere. I sigh and slump in my chair, a long day indeed.

Taglist:

@crazylokonugget @beyondprincess @1975weasley @nicodoesntexist @goto-hi-this-is-my-brain @yoyoitsbella @ftwert @sognatrice-as-a-hobby @dontjudgemyobsessionpls @blackpinkdolan

@holdenviolet @katie-lupin05 @acoustic-archie @trishizzl @accio-willtolive-lmao @ilistentotayswifttocope

#young remus imagine #remus lupin #young remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #remus x reader #the marauders #the marauders fanfiction #young marauders #marauders era fic #harry potter #harry potter fandom #harry potter imagines #remus angst #fluff #ABBA #jily #james potter #sirius black #peter pettigrew

98 notes · View notes

xsugarysweetsx · 3 years

Note

How about a punk Levi x reader where they are polar opposites but they really like eachother a lot and they start dating but the reader over hears Levi’s gang make fun of her alittle bit Cus she doesn’t fit in and it hurts her feelings so she starts to act alittle different until he confronts her and she confesses about what she heard and he reassures her that he doesn’t care about that

Warnings; some language, implied intimacy, slight angst.

Please enjoy~🍰

*******************************************************

People always say opposites attract, and you and Levi were a perfect example. You had a great relationship, with an amazing boyfriend. He wasn’t exactly who people thought you’d be with. He had 3 piercings on one ear, 4 on the other, a septum, and an eyebrow piercing.

He had a sleeve of tattoos on one are, some littering his neck, and others along his abdomen and back. He had a scowl and a ‘fuck you’ attitude. He worked at a tattoo and piercing parlor around town.

You on the other hand were a very loved girl by many. You had no tattoos with only some piercings, some done by Levi. You were a social girl everyone came to with ease. You were very kind and gentle with everyone you met. You were basically every mothers dream of who their son would bring home.

People called him satanic, evil or just straight up a punk. Sure he was cold to other people, but they didn’t know him like you did. In your eyes he was the most best man you had ever been with. He was respectful, loving and straightforward. You actually met the day you went to go your third piercing, you only had 2 and never gotten more.

You were nervous and kept playing with your hands. Levi let you hold on to his shirt while he got it done. It was over before you knew it and he made sure to get you the things you needed. You couldn’t stop staring his tattoos, they were just so beautiful and well done so he said

“You can touch them if you want“ and so was the start of your friendship which blossomed into a relationship. He was the best man you had ever been with and hopefully ever be with. Although you did wish people didn’t judge him so quickly. None the less, your relationship was wonderful and you were happy.

One day you were waiting for him to pick you up from class but he was a bit late. Looking around you spot his black car and walk to it, as you approach it you hear a very familiar voice. It was Levi, but where? Walking closer you notice he was with a few people, you hadn’t met them before. One was tall with long brown hair and green eyes, on was just as tall with blonde hair and blue eyes with glasses.

“I can’t believe you actually like her enough to stay with her“

“Yeah when I heard I thought you were with some rocker chick. Someone with some tats, a freak in the sheets and maybe someone who showed more skin“ chuckled the blonde one

“Oh you’re one to talk. Acting like a big shot who just want to get his dick wet but you can’t“ Levi pushes himself off the wall walking to the man much taller than him

“I mean listen, she’s a cute one. Just image if she showed something for once, like your ex. Now that was a beauty, piercings nice tats, and wasn’t afraid to show something“ you felt something your couldn’t describe. Backing up from where you were you walk back to his car to wait. The blonde as then push harshly

“Don’t talk about my girl and keep our relationship of your mouth“ he clicks his tongue and turns to walks away. Walking back to where he parked he smirks seeing you lean again the side door. He always felt better just by seeing you.

“Hey,“ he comes to you and cups your face in his hands and deeply kisses you “You alright? You’re usually more energetic than this”

“Oh I’m fine, tired it all“ unlocking the door he opens it for you to get in. You get into the car and he closes the door. The ride was as it always was, his hand on the wheel and the other held yours as music played. Getting to the apartment you shared you decided to go and take a shower. Gazing into the mirror you look at your plain skin, how there were no pieces of ink on it. You only had 2 piercings on one ear. Did Levi really like the way you were?

No as rebellious as other people in the rock punk community? You let the warm water hit your skin as you let everything sink in. Would Levi like you more if you were more, hardcore?

That night while Levi slept you did some shopping....

~~~

“Welcome to wall rose how can we help- wait, Y/N?” Hanji barely recognized you when you came in. You wore darker makeup with a dark wine red lipstick. A pair of ripped jeans with fishnets under, and a pair of platform boots. You had a black crop top cami, with a sweater loose on both of your arms. Rings and chains accessorize your body as well. Each detail showing off your figure kept eyes on you.

At the sound of your name Levi looks to the front, making a double take. Since when did you dress like that?? You usually like to be more casual and your make up was never that dark. He stands from his seat and walks to the front

“Y/N...I um hey.”

“Hey Levi,” you said with a nod in his direction with a smirk. He hated that you didn’t go into his arms and just acted so....blunt.

“So what brings ya here today? Finally getting inked?” She joked

“Actaully I am” both of their eyes widen at your responses

“I’ll get you done” Levi states “no arguing since I won’t let anyone else here touch you. You know where it is, I’ll be there in a minute” you wave to hanji and walk to the back room where Levi did his work. He leans against the counter and sighs heavily

“This is the last thing I expected”

“What do you mean? Don’t you like that style?” Hanji asks confused

“Yes- well not on her. She’s differnt from that....she’s been acting weird lately” he said wringing his fingers through his hair “she’s been listening to more punk and metal music, doing research on tats and piercings, she’s even trying to be cold and distant”

“This had been going on for how long?” Hanji tried to get to the core of things

“About the whole week” he said remembering the past few days “first it was the change in music, next it was the attitude and even when we have sex”

“Oh....”

“She asked me to choke her.....she doesn’t like choking”

“I-I um...maybe she’s exploring?”

“No, That’s what makes it more wierd. It’s like she wants to be like me but-“

“I know, you like her bubbly attitude and how her eyes sparkle when you show her stuff”

“I....y-yeah I do...” he pushes himself off the counter and walks to his office “if anyone comes for me tell them I’m busy” Hanji gives him a salute as if telling him she’s on it. Going to his office you sat on the chair looking through his works

“Ooo my boyfriend gets to ink me~” you say with a smirk

“Give up the shitty act Y/N what’s going on” he cuts right to the chase

“Is getting a tattoo so bad that-“

“Don’t avoid the subject” he crosses his arms locking the door

“...well I don’t think bubbly and punk go together so, I became a little more like you” you said almost sarcastically. Walking to him and poking his chest with a smirk. He rolls his eyes and flips you around to pin you against the wall. Now your eyes were wide being under he control.

“Save me the bullshit and tell me. You’re never like this, what changed you?” He ask staring deep into your eyes

“I....I-I just,” you sigh heavily biting your lip “I just wanted to be better for you” you finally admit

“What?”

“I was trying to be more like your ex after hearing your friends talking about it...so I-I thought you’d like me more l-like this” your eye water as you let your insecurities out to him “a-and maybe you’d think I was cooler and better this w-way”

His heart broke seeing you cry over something so stupid. Now he’s really going to punch in Zeke’s teeth. He lets his arms down and wrap you in his arms

“Hey, hey, look at me,” he lifts your chin to look into his silver eyes “you’re perfect as you are. I don’t want you to look or act like my ex because you’re better than she was. I love your personality”

“But-”

“No buts, I love how happy you are all the time. I love when you braid my hair and trace my tattoos and how you get excited about a new show you found. I love you for you.” He wipes one your eyes of their tears as he comes down to kiss your lips gently

“So....I don’t have to be hardcore for you to think I’m hot?” You ask

“Never. You’re sexier than that” he kissed your nose “and you don’t have to have a tattoo if you don’t want it”

“Actaully...I wanted to match yours” you admit fusing a blush to creep on his cheeks “I want your wings on the back of my shoulder” you point to the two wings drawn on his neck.

“Really?” He honestly felt touched you wanted to match with him.

“Yeah...you mean a lot and I want something that reminds me of you” and so it was done. Levi had done your tattoo and beautifully as well. After he was done he kissed the area he had inked. In return the kiss with a deep one to his lips, a way of saying sorry.

As for Zeke, he was knocked out the next day and Levi gave him an embarrassing tattoo somewhere on his body, only he knew. No one messed with his girl, his sweet, bubbly, perfect girl.

*******************************************************

I hope this was okay❤️

#punk levi x reader #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #punk levi ackerman #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin x reader #attack on Titan #shingeki no kyojin #Levi ackerman #anime #anime x reader #fanfiction

143 notes · View notes

harveywritings92 · 3 years

Text

Fatgum x OC: Ex-Boyfriend

Note: takes place before Taishiro and Violet are married they're on their 3 month mark when an old flame of Violet's shows up out of the blue.

[Japanese]

{English}

Taishiro and Violet were just getting off patrol and were walking debating where to go for dinner, not noticing the tall brown haired man talking English on his cellphone, as they passed him the man stopped and slowly turned to look at the couple his green eyes widened when he recognized the redhaired woman who was oblivious to his presence. "Hey Dawn? I'll call you back!" he hung up his phone and sprinted after the tall couple, he reached out his hand to grab the redhaired woman's arm about call out to Violet!

When a large hand suddenly caught his wrist, bottle green eyes met yellow eyes that regarded him with wariness as the man was lifted off the ground by the owner of said eyes. "Ey bud, I dunno where ya grew up, but around 'ere we don't go stalkin 'n grabbin other guy's wives." Taishiro said brusquely as the man struggled to get out of his grasp.

Violet nervously peeked out from behind her giant husband "Donny?" she choked out as the color drained from her face and her blue eyes widened in shock "T-Tai! it's alright, I know him... we used to date" she mumbled the last bit, Taishiro looked at her surprised then looked back at the shorter man hanging in his grasp who nodded vigorously.

That's how the couple ended up skipping dinner and sitting in the park drinking soda "And that's how it went down, I was the other woman the whole time." Violet sighed looking back on her relationship with Donny, a rare frown plastered on Taishiro's face as he absorbed this story, a almost a year this Don had her played, had Violet believe she was his only love. until his Don's fiancé found out about Violet and confronted her.

"It really messed with my ability to trust people for a while, but eventually I moved forward and I glad I did..." the blond man paused taking a sip from his coke, staring at the shy smile Violet was showing him "I wouldn't have transferred here from Canada and thus would never got mistaken for a villain and in turn, I would've never met you." She chuckled as her blond husband's stomach suddenly felt like it was full of pop-rocks and butterflies.

"I think I should go meet him tomorrow, tell him thank you for breaking my heart cus' now I'm happi-" Violet was cut by Taishiro suddenly pulling her into a warm hug. "Please don't say stuff like that, I can't take anymore!" he pleaded feeling lonely and getting teary eyed at the thought of never meeting Violet only settling down when he felt her hug back.

Two days later...

It was awkward morning for Taishiro he was in his Low BMI form and didn't feel like cooking so, he went out to buy some breakfast he was at the 7/11 looking at the onigiri selections he was reaching for a couple salmon onigiri when a hand reached out and met his. Taishiro turned to see who was aiming for the same food, and immediately felt his stomach drop at the sight of Don the dong looking at him.

there was awkward silence before the brown haired retracted his hand. "Uh, g-go a head sir." he stammered clearly intimidated by the taller male. "Naw, Is fine you can have it." Taishiro said with a tight smile this cause Don's brow to furrowed as he eyed the blond man befuddled. "Urm, do you have a brother?" Taishiro cocked a brow why Don was asking.

"Nope, why?"

"Well, y-you kind of remind me of this squishy brute I met other night!"

"Yeah, well considerin' that was me, would be no surprise ya'd be reminded of that!"

"You? but-bbut--"

Don sputtered as he looked at Taishiro up and down in disbelief the now tall and muscular man "It's my Quirk." the blond huffed then noticed a bunch of people looking at them oddly, Taishiro smiled tightly and threw his arm around the stunned man's shoulder. "Say man let's go catch up, I know this café around the corner." his smiled dropped as he leaned near Don's ear. "Play along..." the BMI hero hissed and as the green eyed man swallowed nervously and smiled. "s-Sure thing bro, lead the way!" Don stuttered before the two men left the store.

You could cut the tension in that café with a knife as the two men eyed each other down while sipping their coffee. Before Taishiro broke the silence. "Violet told me what went down between ya." he huffed Don flinched knowing Violet wasn't one to keep personal things to herself especially if it had hurt her in some way, the brown haired man squirmed under Taishiro's scrutinizing gaze. ""Look what happened it.. wasn't what she thought alright I--!" the taller male slamming his cup down caused Don to flinch. "Oh?~ so you didn't have an affair with Violet?, hm?~" Don started to stammer over word before .

"A-afair? no! it wasn't like that it..I-"

"So what would you call seeing another woman behind your fiancée's back?"

"She wasn't my fiancée!

"...Alright, let's say I believe ya, who was the lady and why was she tellin' Violet she was you're bride to be?"

Don gave him what had happened on his side of the situation, The woman's name was Emily... She and Don they were childhood friends who had reconnected in college; the same time he was already dating Violet before they met up again, at some point Emily was starting to have relationship problems with her boyfriend and Don being the big brother figure in their friend group, tried to help her through it and reconcile with her boyfriend however one night... "I'm not sure how it happened, but one thing led to a another and we had sex."

Taishiro frowned deepened as the brown haired man continued his tale, by rewinding a bit about his relationship with Emily, the girl had major crush on him when they were kids, but he never saw her in that light, so when he heard she got a boyfriend he was happy for her, and figured she moved on from him. He was wrong... "She mistook that night for me reciprocating her feelings, I tried telling her I had a girlfriend, but she wouldn't hear it!" than he got to Violet's part of the story.

Emily confronting her, lying about being Don's fiancée causing their break up, when he confronted Emily about it she got pissed, when he told her that he wasn't even interested in her! "Emily slapped me and demanded to know why I slept with her? " he was left speechless because he didn't know what to say, Don's green eyes glared down at his empty coffee cup.

"I know why ya couldn't answer her." Taishiro said having traded his coffee for Melonpan, Don looked up the table and nearly jumped out of his seat when he saw Taishiro had gotten fatter during the five minutes he was talking, but kept silent as the blond swallowed bread and spoke up. "You were scared, cos’ ya didn’t love Violet." He stated as if he was describing what color his shirt was.

Don face flushed with anger and was about to snap that it wasn't true he did love Violet, but the taller man held his hand up telling the shorter guy to let him finish. "It’s obvious ya didn't love her, or at least ya aren't ready for a commitment that deep and was lookin' for an exit, and that exit was labeled Emily." the growing BMI hero said carefully watching the man sitting across from him, just like that all that regret and anger Don was feeling all these years had simmered away into a semblance of clarity and realization that Taishiro was absolutely right.

The firs time Violet told that she loved him, Don never really gave her clear response he got scared and mumbled some gibberish and left it alone assuming it was slip up, then she started talking about moving in together and meeting his family it was starting get to him about how fast the situation was going! So when Emily started making advances towards him he didn't push her away... the clarity slowly shifted to guilt as he realized that he screwed over two girls just to put an end to a very avoidable situation, had he just talked to Violet about his feelings or broke up with her in the first place, none of this would've happened!

"Ya startin' to feel like a dong Don?"

"More than you know, I think I should go I got work."

"And gotta go open my agency before my sidekick's get worried."

"Toyomitsu, When you see Violet tell her I'm sorry for how everything went down."

Taishiro was about berate the shorter man over why he couldn't just go tell her himself, but the next words solidified why that wasn't very a good idea. "Also, I want to apologize for trying to kiss her last night.." the last thing Don saw clearly was an angry fist heading his way.

His vision became fuzzy and there was loud ringing in his ears when the fog cleared, Don was knocked out of his shoes and his nose was bleeding and could feel some of his teeth were knocked loose, his eyes focused and saw a very pissed off Taishiro was standing over him. "tha..t-that's Fair." was all Don could say and as he managed pulled himself off the floor walked out of the café.

the old man who ran place gave Taishiro a thumbs up and tall blond grimaced stormed out of the place and went straight home finally getting why his wife so angry last night, and would not calmed down eventually he decided it was best to let it run it's course and let Vi cool down and they'll talk about it in the morning.

So when Taishiro got to his apartment he found Violet pacing the living room which she does when she close to having a panic attack. "Vi-" Before he could even finish calling her, the redhead launched herself and him burying her head into his belly. "Tai, I'm sorry I went to meet Don last night a-a we had a few drinks and... hetriedtokissme I'm so sorry!" she broke down sobbing.

Taishiro's anger simmered down into concern as it became very obvious that Violet wasn't trying to hide what happened last night from him, in fact she overwhelmed by the whole situation, Taishiro was soo glad he punched that rat's lights out! as he wrapped one arm around Violet's waist while his other hand patted her on the "It's alright darlin' I saw Don earlier." Violet looked up at him surprised.

"You did?" she croaked her husband nodded wiping her tears with his hoodie sleeve. "He said he was sorry, fore everything...especially for last night." the redhead was still stunned. "He did?" The blond mmm-hmm'd to her while kissing her hair. "Yep, in fact he was really remorseful …(Especially after that "love tap" I gave him back at the café!)" the BMI hero mentally jeered as he focused on calming his girl down... And fantasizing throwing Don the dong into the sun.

#boku no hero academia #bnha fanfiction #BNHA oc: Violet Santiago #fatgum x oc #taishiro toyomitsu x oc #fatgum #taishiro toyomitsu

11 notes · View notes

icicleteeth · 4 years

Text

So I wrote a tiny ESO AU with @your-holy-mountain ‘s Finn and my dunmer Servyn for the laffs and because I got emotional about Finn being a good friend because Tii is a good friend of mine enjoy the trash under the cut...

(Disclaimer though, this isn’t going to be super well written at all, as it’s just an off the cuff little ficlet alsjfdj)

The early morning rabble of Mournhold’s central trading plaza sings with the hustling and bustling of a city which never sleeps nor rests--men, mer, beast, automata, and sometimes tamed daedra fill the streets in a near shoulder to shoulder crowd, all of which with important work for important people to attend to, though none of which called themselves nor anyone else by their real names, as such work wasn’t so important as to interrupt the annual weekly celebration of the Jester’s Festival--an honored holiday amongst all of Tamriel where Khajiiti named Kitty Kitty Bang Bang and Bosmer named Big Meat Indulgence address eachother as such unabashedly, as if it were completely normal and expected to do so.

Servyn wished he could join in on such festivities. He quite hated his name and would usually revel in any excuse to change it (even if temporarily)...but there wasn’t much use in changing one’s name when said one is a street Dunmer. He never had any reason to give anyone his real name, let alone a silly made up one. Most just called him Beggar. He supposed “Beggar” was a better name than “Servyn”, but it would feel odd to share the same name as every other beggar in Mournhold (of which there were many).

He lies curled up on the ground against the blacksmith’s plaza. Many filter in and out without noticing him much, though this particular spot gave a perfect view of the city’s wayshrine, where those coming in from all over Tamriel will inevitably see him, as the blacksmith’s is right across from the shrine’s entryway. Servyn looks to his tattered cap a few feet away, and makes a heartless effort to reach for it without having to get up (this being for a lack of motivation, he tells himself. Not because he doesn’t trust his legs to give out the moment he tries to use them). He’s able to brush the tip of it, but gives up trying to check it. Probably no coins in there anyway. At least watching the large guild stores haggle with passing knights and mages and trading goods he could never hope to behold in his life brought him some amusement. The aforementioned humorous names exchanged while doing so helped a bit, too.

Something was sniffing--a breathy heavy sniffing--at him. Servyn had managed to shift between laying on his side facing the streets to instead face the wall some time ago, which he’d done so when watching a trader present a whole roasted bantam guar became too much to handle. This seemed like a good idea at the time, though it meant he couldn’t see what was currently invading his personal space; not that this was too unusual. Street animals were just as numerous as street mer, and even they weren’t desperate enough to gobble up filthy urchins with hardly any meat on their bones. Just let it happen and it’ll go away.

“What’s that you found, Dandelion?”

At the sound of a man’s voice close behind him, Servyn twitches and sweats. Okay, so it isn’t a nix hound. That’s fine. Right? He’ll take one look at me, reel back in repulsion for a few seconds, and let me go--

Before he’s able to finish that thought, he’s suddenly off the ground, for whatever was sniffing at him decided to pick him up and carry him by his shirt. The first thing he sees is the large bear paws--bear paws!--shuffling below him on the ground. The second thing he sees is an even larger Breton man in a black tunic and huge muscles adorned with intricate tattoos standing before him.

This is it, then! This is where I die, right here and right now! Be it by the hands of a strongman or in the belly of a bear...or both! All he could muster is quick desperate breathing, for it was useless to cry for a guard. They wouldn’t care to see a beggar go, anyway.

As expected, the Breton reels back with a look of surprise--though this surprise doesn’t seem like one of disgust.

“Wow! You found a baby grampa, Dandie! Amazing!”

Grampa? He was hardly past his early twenties! Not that he was offended by the mixup--his hair is naturally white, and the unkempt nature of his facial hair could certainly fool anyone into thinking he was an old man. The uncontrollable shaking in fear surely ought to tell the man he was far from a grizzled elder. Now you’re just giving him more reason to see you as easy prey!

“Oh, but will you please let him go, Dandie? Most people don’t like being held by a bear’s maw--I know, I don’t get it either. But it is what it is!”

Just as commanded, the bear releases Servyn, who falls to the ground like dead weight. Were it not for his still raspy and frantic breathing, one could easily assume he were already dead.

“Sorry about that, little elf! Dandie likes magical things, because she’s magical too! But that means you’re magical, right?”

Not really. He may know a good deal more magic than the average street rat, but it was only simple magic he picked up from beginner’s spell books in the public library. He likely paled in comparison to the city’s many wizards and Telvanni mages. Surely this adventurous looking man has seen a good number of better mages to gawk at.

“Finnegan Stormborne, at your service!” he bows, and squeaks “and Dandelion, at yours as well!” in his best (and frankly impressive) falsetto. The bear still seemed uncomfortably interested in Servyn, but he was powerless to run away. He didn’t want to talk to the stranger, but decided maybe if he engaged in small talk with the man, then he may be generous enough to not let his bear tear him to shreds.

“Is...that your Jester’s name, sera?”

The Breton blinks, though is silent for only a moment before bursting into hearty laughter.

“Ha! I could never be a real jester, no. They’re funny on purpose, you see.”

“I...do?” The intentions of the Breton named Finnegan were lost on him. It didn’t seem like information--which was good, because Servyn wasn’t like the other beggars in that way. It didn’t seem like he simply wanted an easy target to bully, as he hasn’t done so--yet. It couldn’t be money, because surely the last place you’d look for extra gold is--

“Say, you dropped your hat!”

Oh. Maybe it is money after all. Servyn doubted anything was in it anyway, but on the off chance there was...well. He supposed it wasn’t the first time he’d resigned himself to another night of sleeping hungry, though he didn’t have much time to lament about this, as he feels something placed on his head, and a handful of coins presented to him.

“These were inside it, too. Best hide ‘em, you never know when the gold-eating rats decide to come out...”

The what?

With great effort, Servyn sits up to better address Finnegan (though slightly wilting at the man’s towering height).

“There are no gold-eating rats here, sera. Or anywhere...at least, I don’t think so...” He cuts his own sentence off quickly, fearing the man would snap at him for talking back.

“Oh! That’s just what I call tax collectors. But eh, what does sera mean, by the by? Do you mean to say “serenade”? Cus I’m always in the mood for a song, and I don’t do so well, being tempted with a good time!”

Now it’s Servyn’s turn to blink. Finn, on other hand, seems jovial as a drunken Nord.

“Yeah, you know what? What do you say to a night in, Dandelion? I’ll get you a good roast, sing some songs...hey! Why don’t you join us, Dunmer? Dandie seems to really like you!”

Now the Breton must really be out of his mind. Him? In a tavern? With other people, who will probably sneer at the presence of a vagrant in their establishment? Alongside a stranger, no less!? The worst part was said stranger seemed genuine in his offer--but it didn’t matter. He shouldn’t go. He can’t go.

“Erm! I’d be happy to join you, Sir Finnegan, but my legs aren’t very strong, and I don’t think I will be able to stand...nor do I think tavern patrons would stand me, if you understand what I’m saying. You’d best be off on your own, the local tavern is that way--”

In an instant, Servyn, for the second time, is lifted off the ground; this time in the rock-hard muscular arms of Finnegan (a feat not difficult for him at all, as Servyn’s meager height of under five feet tall and malnourished frame required no more effort to lift than a sack of potatoes). This time he does yelp, though it comes out more akin to a frightened squeak.

“If that’s all that’s stopping you, then I can help with that! By the way, you can call me Finn. Now, where’d you say the nearest tavern was? That way? Come on, Dandelion!”

Servyn wasn’t sure which was worse: watching Finn dance the Lava Foot Shuffle directly on the Flaming Nix Inn’s hot coal stove, or watching Dandelion gnaw at roasted salmon. Neither one helped calm the frantic anxiety for his new friend‘s wellbeing...or the ravenous appetite of his long-unfed stomach. Finn notices this, and hops off the coals for a moment.

“Hey, are you alright? If you tell me your name, I can sing a song about you!”

In truth, Servyn wasn’t really paying attention to Finn. In an attempt to look somewhere else, his eyes ended up settling on the large cauldron of duck soup cooking behind the innkeeper’s counter. He didn’t notice the bit of drool escaping his mouth, but Finn does, with a sad “Oh.”

Before Servyn knew it, a bowl is presented to him, with Finn kneeling down a bit to look him in the eyes. “I’m sorry, friend. I should’ve known you must be famished, being on the streets and all. Do you like this stuff?”

Were Servyn in a different position, he’d beat himself up for such rudeness, as he didn’t wait to ask before taking the bowl from Finn’s hands without a single word and wolfing the soup down in a hunched up ball on the bench. Finn, however, is more than happy to let his friend be, and return to his dancing, only turning around to say: “I paid the chef for as many bowls as you want, so don’t be shy if you want more!”

Three bowls and an unceremonious belch later, Servyn lies sleepily against Dandelion, who situated herself behind the mer and quite enjoys acting as a large fluffy pillow while she dozes a bit herself. Finn, in his never-ending zeal, still happily dances amongst the coals whilst singing a new song about a Nordic king in a far-off kingdom. However, once noticing his ursine companion give a big toothy yawn, he stops singing.

“Ah, suppose you’re right, Dandie. It’s getting late. Hey innkeep! I’ll have two rooms for the night, put it on my tab, will you?” He makes to leap gracefully off the coals, but trips on a particularly odd-shaped stone and falls with a thud and a nonchalant “Ow.” Servyn perks up, immediately worried for Finn, and is not calmed down despite the Breton getting up easily and without distress.

“The second room I bought is for you, Dunmer. You don’t have to take it, but I thought it’d be better than going back to the streets. It’s no big expense on me, either way.”

There wasn’t time to worry about that right now. Struggling to get up, Servyn manages to stand, though with wobbly legs and a belly that felt much heavier than he was used to.

“Sir Finn, your arm..!” He points to a raw patch of skin which endured direct contact with the coals, and is now a large splotch of pink. Finn shrugs.

“Oh, don’t worry about that! I’ll take care of it later. But you look exhausted, friend. I can carry you to your room, if you’d like. Or the streets, I guess...if that’s what you want...”

Without thinking, Servyn trudges over to Finn, half of his energy focused on not collapsing, and the other half dedicated to channeling a healing spell. He all but collapses into Finn’s arms, but is able to cast the spell on the burned skin, and watches with relief as it mends right before his eyes--and Finn’s who stares in awe.

“Say, I knew you were magical! My arm feels good as new!” He hugs Servyn a bit tighter than he’d like, but thankfully the man has enough foresight to not put his usual effort into the embrace. He now cradles his friend, who looks to the floor sheepishly.

“It was just a simple spell, and was the least I could do, given the kindness you’ve shown me...”

“Simple? I’d say that’s a real talent you have there! Have you tried joining the local Mages Guild? I bet they’d love to have you!”

Of course not. Someplace as prestigious as a guild would turn him away the moment they saw him, with his dirty untamed hair and filthy ragged tunic and patchwork pants. Finn was the weird one for not doing the same. Why didn’t he do the same?

Knowing he expects and answer, Servyn simply shakes his head. Finn makes his way up the stairs, still with the mer in tow, who doesn’t object or ask to be taken back to the streets.

“You should! I work for them sometimes. Sort of. I find these weird books all over the place that they’re interested in, but lots of mages are real stuck up. They complain and say things like “Finnegan, why is it covered in swamp stains?” Maybe because I found it in a swamp! You wouldn’t care if I gave you a book I found in a swamp, right?”

Servyn once again shakes his head, and mutters “a book is a book, sera. It’s not your fault it happened to end up in a swamp.”

“Right!? See, you understand, and I bet you would call me Finn instead of Finnegan. Mages do that to sound regal, but it’s too formal for me! Wish I had a friend in the guild who wasn’t so stuck up...like you!”

They reach a door. Finn pushes it open with his shoulders, and lays Servyn on the single bed. He blushes a bit--at the softness of the mattress and blankets so foreign and long forgotten after years of sleeping rough, and at the seemingly never-ending kindness of the Breton man.

“I’ve got to tuck Dandelion in now, but I’m in the room just across from yours. You can knock if you need me.”

Finn turns around, but before he’s able to leave the room, a soft voice interrupts him.

“S-Servyn! My name is Servyn. So you know who to...um, send the bill to. I don’t know when I can pay it back but--”

“Servyn, eh? I like it! Now I know exactly how to introduce you to the Magister! This is fantastic! Thanks for telling me, Servyn. But I’ll let you sleep now, okay? We’ll need all our strength for tomorrow, after all!”

The door clicks shut before Servyn is able to retort back. He isn’t sure whether he’s decided to give up on understanding Finn or understanding why he let the Breton sweep him up into a tavern room to begin with--all he knew was he was tired, much so that he didn’t want to think about it anymore. He could hear the man from the hallway baby-talking (presumedly to his bear) but didn’t feel at all annoyed by this break in silence. Finn’s voice truly exude a warmth so rarely heard, even from the kindest Temple priests. Servyn couldn’t bring himself to complain, and felt odly...okay with him knowing his true name, and he knowing Finn’s, and this sickeningly sweet okay-ness that he never thought he’d ever feel again lulls him into a gentle sleep.

But if anyone else asks, my name is Captain Sujamma Guzzler.

#eso #the elder scolls online #fanfic #this isn't edited so apologies for the uhhhhh zero quality #doodledumps

49 notes · View notes

gerberbabey · 4 years

Text

euphoric | two | JJ Maybank

a/n: JJ’s here but there aint a lot of jj action. we’ll get there though

summary: It’s the day of the kegger

masterlist | previous | next

warnings: cursing, slow shit, terrible writing, underaged drinking, underaged smoking, grinding

two - ♫ RATCHET SATURN GIRL by Aminé ♫

“Wait lemme see her Instagram again.”

Kie’s face scrunched up in distaste as she pulled her phone away from JJ’s grabby hands. The Pogues were hanging around the Chateau, trying to figure out how to waste time before they had to set up for the kegger. It was about 10 in the morning and the sun was already bearing down pretty harshly.

“Ew no, I don’t need to watch you leer,” Kie chastised and JJ scoffed as he blew out a puff of smoke.

When Kie had gotten there earlier in the morning, the boys had hounded her about what happened during the Kook party and how she could’ve possibly been willing to not only stay at the party but also personally invite Kooks to their kegger. Kie told them about you and Isaiah, describing the experience as clearly a good one and even showing them your Instagrams.

JJ being JJ had jumped onto looking through your Instagram almost immediately. Social media wasn’t something they tended to care about but JJ was not only a boy he was also an idiot. Your Instagram was littered with a variety of posts; selfies, outfit pictures, pictures of scenery, pictures of people who were likely from your hometown, intricate eye makeup that was clearly being flexed. Kie knew not to use social media as a basis for a person’s life or personality but from the short time she’d gotten to talk to you, Kie saw you as much more bubbly and down to earth compared to what you posted.

“I don’t...leer,” JJ huffed out and Kie gave him a look.

“Do you even know what that means...JJ?” Pope spoke up from where he was trying to stay hidden away from the direct rays of the sun.

“Yeah, I know what it means…” JJ trailed off, clearly indicating that he didn’t actually know what it meant. Pope opened his mouth to educate JJ when he was cut off by John B stepping out of his house, letting the door slam behind him.

“You guys wanna go out to the marsh?” John B questioned and the Pogues all groaned out confirmations.

“Yo, you still have beer?” JJ questioned as he stood up, dusting off his shorts, and then grabbing his backpack. Kie had picked herself up from where she was laying down but still remained otherwise preoccupied and distracted by her phone, this time stalking through Isaiah’s account.

“Oh shit nah, I ran out yesterday,” John B clicked his teeth in irritation.

“I could go grab some from the Wreck really quick?” Kie suggested as she finally pocketed her phone with the knowledge that that was probably the last she was gonna use it aside from listening to music. John B nodded as Pope finally stood up from his hiding place and made his way over. Pope was waving away smoke as JJ playfully blew it in his direction.

“Alright, so the wreck, then the marsh?” John B questioned and the Pogues all agreed before they headed over to John B’s van, ready for another day of Pogue life fun.

________

You didn’t like the idea of having to drive around with your brother, but your lack of a car and lack of friends made it difficult to actively get away from him. He was clearly as annoyed about it as you were but the two of you couldn’t complain.

“A german shepherd?”

“I was thinking a pitbull actually.”

“Oh dude,” you turned to your brother at that and he raised his brows, “Pitbulls are so cute, but mom would literally be terrified.”

Yesterday you had brought up the topic of possibly getting a dog and although you were 110% sure that your parents were ready to shut you down, Bea’s excitement at the prospect had gotten you the momentum you needed. Once Bea had latched onto the idea, she didn’t even give your parents a chance to try and say no. Back in California, it was easier for them to say no when it came to getting a dog.

First of all your mom was terrified of dogs, so she was quick to say no regardless. But she also always backed it up by saying that you didn’t have the time, space, or resources to be taking care of a dog. But now you were in the Outer Banks. Your new home had a ridiculous amount of space, you had all the time in the damn world, and how hard could it be to get stuff for a dog right now?

You also might’ve gotten Bea to guilt-trip your parents by whispering in her ear that a dog would make as a great new friend in these...trying days.

“All my friends are back home! I don’t have any here!” she’d yelled angrily as you all made your way back inside the house last night and your mom wasn’t the least bit amused, but your dad had fallen right into her little 9-year-old trap.

“Is that Kie?” You questioned, sitting up as you saw a familiar set of curls up the road. You then noticed that up ahead was the Wreck, Kie’s parents’ restaurant and there was Kie bustling out with some boys who you figured were here friends. Isaiah slowed the car down as you rolled down the windows, sticking your head out. Kie and her friends were making their way toward a vintage, beat-up looking van when you let out a wolf whistle.

“Hey baby, you wanna go have some fun?” you teased as Kie whipped her head up to look at you. Her sour expression melted into a grin as she laughed at your antics. You didn’t question the boldness of your own actions, only briefly wondering if perhaps you were being too comfortable with someone you barely knew. Yet Kie’s reaction eased your worries.

“Hey,” she greeted as Isaiah brought the car to a stop, letting Kie walk up to your vehicle and leaving her friends to watch her as she did so, “Hey Isaiah,” she greeted separately.

“What’s up,” he drawled, grinning at her as you rolled your eyes.

“What are you guys up to?” Kie asked as she took in your appearance. Reminiscent of the previous night and of the posts Kie had seen on Instagram, you had done yourself up in that way that Kie couldn’t help but admire. She wasn��t one for makeup herself considering she knew that her day to day activities would just lead to it coming off. Yet she appreciated the amount of time and effort you probably put into the looks that you pulled.

“We’re gonna go to the thrift shop cus (N/N) wants a mirror, then we’re gonna go to the animal shelter and see about adopting a dog,” Isaiah answered.

“Uh, hey Kie?”

Kie turned around and you looked past her and at the 3 boys she was originally with.

“You wanna…” The tall messy haired one trailed off, motioning to you, “You wanna introduce us to your friends?” Kie made a face at John B and the boy only smiled back at her awkwardly. Pope was shifting around like the introvert he was, rocking on his feet and looking between you and Kie. JJ licked his lips as he stared you down, debating about whether he should trust Kie’s judgment or stick to his ideals when it came to Kooks (even if he thought you were incredibly attractive).

“Boys, this is (Y/N) and her brother Isaiah, they just moved here,” Kie motioned for her friends to come over and they shuffled closer, sticking together as they came to stand beside Kie.

“Hi, I’ve heard great things,” you greeted, smiling up at the boys. You couldn’t stop yourself from looking each of them up and down, taking in their appearances. You weren’t gonna lie, they were cute...

“Hey, I’m John B,” the first boy introduced, and he nodded to you before he nudged at one of his friends.

“Uh I’m Pope. Heyward. Hi,” Pope waved awkwardly and you waved back.

“JJ,” JJ said shortly with a nod and he gave you a sort of grimace of a smile.

“You guys throwing the kegger?” Isaiah asked and the Pogues nodded, “Where do ya’ll just get a keg?”

“We have our ways,” JJ said ominously and his friends all shot him a look while you glanced at Isaiah before turning back and nodding reluctantly.

“Oookay...well we’re gonna head out. We’ll see you guys later tonight?” you tilted your head, looking each of them in the eye. Their voices overlapped with one another as they answered you. You let out a laugh and blew Kie a kiss as your brother waved before the two of you drove off, leaving the Pogue’s standing by the side of the road.

“So?” Kie turned to her friends and they looked at her, confused, “Aren’t they like, weirdly cool?”

“I mean it was like barely a minute of interaction,” Pope argued but Kie only shot him a look, “...but yeah they were actually kinda cool.”

“Hey we’ll only know for sure tonight!” JJ clapped, “We don’t trust anyone until they’ve been exposed to all sides of the island,” JJ pointed at each of his friends, “Now c’mon, the marsh awaits!”

________

“Are you changing?”

“Are you?” you shot back at Isaiah giving his outfit a once over. He was dressed in a large shirt and some shorts.

Isaiah paused, looking down at his outfit, “...No…?”

“Then no, I’m not changing,” you finalized as you finished fixing up your make up.

The sun was slowly starting to set, leaving an orange hue over the island, making you feel rather bright in comparison to the neutral tones of the island and the people on the island. Kie was arriving soon, if her text was any indication.

“What if you end up in the ocean?” Isaiah brought up and you made eye contact with him through the mirror before shrugging.

“It might make it look sick as fuck.”

“Alright.”

You stood and looked into the full body mirror you had bought today. You were dressed in a colorful body con sleeveless dress, the dress patterned with butterflies. Your make up stuck to a more natural neutral look, though you’d drawn on intricate butterfly designs onto your eyelids. You’d topped it off with a few jewels on the edge of the butterflies wings.

“Kie’s here!” Isaiah called and you gave yourself one last look before picking up your phone and then rushing out. In front of your home was the vintage, beat up old van that you had seen earlier in the day. Isaiah had taken up the passenger's seat and you gave him a look as you pushed the van open and shuffled in.

“How are you guys doing?” Kie greeted and you chuckled.

“Fine since you saw us,” you checked your bare wrist, “5 hours ago?”

“”Hey a lot can happen in 5 hours.”

“Very true.”

“How’s the dog thing going?”

“We checked at the shelter and they said it could take up to maybe a week?” Isaiah answered as he ran a hand through his hair, “But otherwise we just visited to check out the dogs. It’s hard to pick just one.”

“Uuuugh, it makes me so sad,” you groaned out leaning against the back of Kie’s seat.

“I bet,” Kie laughed.

The drive hadn’t been too long, or as long as you imagined. It took a bit just to get to the other side of the island, then took just a bit more time for Kie to park the mystery machine-esque van at a location that didn’t look like cars were meant to be parked there. You couldn’t peep many other cars, but you could see a group of people making their way further up the beach.

“Just follow me,” Kie instructed and you and your brother looked at each other before following after her.

It was a bit of a walk but soon enough, after crossing over a billion dead trees and shit, you got to the part of the beach that was just packed with people. About two or three bonfires had already been lit and there was music blasting out into the open air. It definitely wasn’t what you were used to but you weren’t going to complain. The sun was quickly setting though it seemed that people had been arriving far earlier than this point.

“Hey!” Kie called out and led you over to the center of the party. Groups of people were lined up and you noticed Kie’s friends, the Pogues, were manning the keg, handing off filled red solo cups to both under aged and of aged people. You were pretty sure you’d spotted a middle aged man lingering about in the crowd.

“Heey!!” JJ was clearly further along than most others. You raised a brow as he climbed up onto a branch and called for everyone’s attention.

“Alright hey! Everyone these two, right here,” JJ motioned to you and your brother, “Are new to the island! Alright, new to permanent residency, so not tourons!”

You let out a laugh as JJ tried his damned hardest to explain to the crowd (who were not listening) what the difference was between you and the so called Tourons.

“JJ! Get the hell down, you idiot,” Kie scolded and JJ only laughed before he jumped off of the thing he had climbed.

“Here you go,” John B nodded as he handed Isaiah a red solo cup. The boy nodded in thanks, taking a drink as he looked around. You scoffed as you noted the familiar look in his eye. That look that meant someone had already caught his interest.

“I’m gonna head over there,” he told you absentmindedly and you only shook him off.

“Go crazy,” you told him and he was sauntering off.

“For the lady?” John B offered and you purse your lips before shaking your head.

“Um no thanks, you guys smoke?” you questioned and John B raised his brows before turning to look at JJ.

“JJ,” John b called and the blonde made his way over. He put an arm around John B and licked his lips as he looked you up and down, similar to how he had done earlier in the day. You shot him a look and your eyes lingered on one another for a second longer before JJ turned to John B.

“John B, my man, what’s up?” JJ questioned and John B gestured to you.

“(Y/N)’s trying to smoke,” he informed and JJ nodded in understanding and excitement.

“Well of course,” JJ insisted before he offered you an arm, you looped your arm around his and he began to lead you away, “You look beautiful by the way. Just need to get that in there. Love the butterflies.”

You let out a laugh at that and shot Kie a look. Kie rolled her eyes though the smile on her face reassured you.

“Thanks.”

“No problem, uh we usually have a smoke circle going for anyone who just wants to hang. You know, away from all the dancing and shit. I think the Kooks do like lines of coke over there if that’s what you want,” JJ explained as he led you to one of the other bonfires that had been started.

“Noted,” you drawled as JJ jumped over a log and helped you over.

The circle of teens and young adults all greeted JJ and he grinned at them as he helped you settle down.

“Pass me that shit,” JJ ordered and the girl holding the blunt shot him a look but handed it to him anyway. JJ took a hit before offering it to you. You nodded in thanks as you took it between your thumb and pointer. Taking a long drag you let it settle for a moment before you blew out O’s.

“Oohohoho shit,” JJ hyped up and you grinned as a few of the others clapped.

“Thank you, thank you,” you bowed playfully before you passed it to the person beside you.

“Uh hi, I’m Max by the way,” one of the boys across from you introduced and you waved to him.

“(Y/N).”

A few others introduced themselves to you, though the rest were so gone you didn’t expect them to say much.

“So (Y/N) how’s the island for you so far?” JJ asked and he leaned back to look at you.

“It’s like my 2nd day here,” you informed him and the group laughed.

“Ok but that’s like perfect, first impressions are the basis for everything. Plus, it’s your second day and you're here, I’d say that’s a pretty good first impression,” some kid said and you chuckled.

“I guess so.”

“By the way, your outfit, your make up, your whole,” the girl beside JJ gestured to the entirety of you, “looks fucking amazing. I love that. I only pray for that beauty and confidence.”

“Ok relax, you’re literally gorgeous,” you complimented before you took another hit of the blunt that was making it’s way around.

“Bet it’s nothing like California,” JJ raised his brows and you scoffed.

“Absolutely not. This whole island vibe thing is so far from what it was like back home. Even your parties don’t match up,” at that comment the group began to protest though you weren’t having any of it. As chill as everyone seemed to be so far, it was just different back in California. It was brighter, crazier, dirtier, and everything in between and you expressed that to them.

“Oh dirtier,” JJ wiggled his eyebrows and you laughed. The lightness of your head indicated that the blunt was definitely hitting.

“Shut up,” you laughed out as you gave him a playful shove. JJ gave you a wide grin and you tilted your head at the dazed look in his eye. You wondered how far gone this boy was.

“Yo, are you trying to dance right now?” one of the girls, you couldn’t remember her name, questioned though it was leaning more toward a demand than an actual inquisition.

“Sure if you want,” you shrugged and you stood from where you were seated on the sandy log. You missed how JJ’s eyes followed after you. He watched as you and the girl held hands and made your way into the crowd of dancing people. Some song was playing though he could barely make out the lyrics. The base was loud enough to let people know how to move though.

“Oh shit I love this song!” Someone screeched and JJ wondered how they could even tell what the song was.

His eyes drifted around though they found themselves back to your form. You and that girl were now dancing face to face, your legs crossing over one another’s. JJ couldn’t help but lick his lips as he watched your hips move in the dress you were wearing.

His mouth was ridiculously dry.

You jumped as you felt hands settle on your waist and though you weren’t too sure about dancing with some random guy at the moment you shot the girl (Lily? Emily? Annalee??) a look and she looked over your shoulder for a split second before she shot you a grin and a subtle thumbs up. You grinned, the prospect kinda funny to you before you began to grind back against whoever was holding you. Their hold tightened around you and you put one hand over their right and reached back with your left to run your hands through his hair.

The two of you grinded to the music and you laughed as the boy settled his chin on your shoulder, placing a chaste kiss on your neck. Perhaps you were underestimating this island just a little bit.

As the song began to transition into the next one you took the moment to look over your shoulder. Blinking up at the boy you grinned.

“Hi!”

Jeez, why were there so many cute guys on this island?

“Rafe!”

“Sorry?”

“I’m Rafe!” the boy shouted once more and you nodded. That sounded kinda familiar.

taglist: @sspidermanss, @ilikealotofpeople-younotsomuch, @duskangxl,

i dont remember if anyone else asked to be in the taglist, but if you did im sorry omg pls just lmk

47 notes · View notes

cirvat · 4 years

Text

Week 2- Creatober

Prompts: Awareness, Pressure, Fight, Sunrise, Burn, Bruise (I couldn’t seem to fit Intrigue in here!)

Kagura pressed her fist to her mouth to cover the yawn that betrayed just how tired she was. Beside her Leo was leaning over his fiancé’s shoulders, eyes closed and groaning into Shin’s neck. Shin was petting his hair as they scanned the line of guards that bracketed them.

The walkway was lit with the glare of streetlamps as a soft glow on the horizon carried the promise of a sunrise. The carriage that they stood in front of was an ornate thing, golden and giant with little dragons sewn into the drapery. It looked like those show boxes royalty would put pretty trinkets in.

Princess Ursula was anything but a pretty trinket.

Not to say that she isn’t pretty, she floundered in her own head. Her Highness is very beautiful! She's just not a trinket!

Achieving Runic mastership at the age of twenty was almost unheard of. The variety of properties behind each and every rune made the field notorious for its complexity. Kagura had to research some of the more common runes during her medical classes and it was like pulling teeth trying to understand them.

She really hoped she would get to see more of the Princess’s abilities in action.

“When are they gonna get here?” Leo groaned. “I could have gotten more sleep if all we’re gonna do is stand here for an hour!”

“It’s ceremonial, Leo.” Shin swept another hand through his hair. “Her Highness needs to be dressed in traditional clothing for her travels through the outer rings.”

“Also, she and Kavan need to talk mission details.” Kagura poked Leo’s side.

“But sleep!” Leo pressed into his fiancé even more.

“Leo.” Shin shrugged him off their shoulder. “You’re going to be riding on top of the thing anyways. Chill out.”

The ginger groaned and moved to lean on them again just as the guards parted. Kagura and Shin elbowed him up straight as Kavan led both the Princess and Empress Sakura forward. The three sunk into deep bows at their approach.

“Rise.” The Empress’s clear voice seemed to set pressure down on Kagura’s spine, forcing her to obey. “Dear guildsfolk, I entrust to you my daughter. Protect her and care for her.”

“We will, Your Excellency.” Kavan bowed, showing her the respect he would usually only show to the Vulcos Grandmaster.

“Ursula, my daughter.” Sakura turned to the Princess, her lips pursed in what could only be worry. “I wish you safe travels. Return to me swiftly.”

“Of course, Mother.” Ursula bowed her head, her face covered by the veil she wore. She turned to the carriage and her beautiful formal robes drifted across the ground as she walked.

Kagura was sure that her eyes were burning against the Princess’s back as she climbed the steps into the carriage. She just couldn’t help herself. The grace that her Highness moved with swayed the fish beaded into the fabric so that they almost looked alive.

Ursula settled into the carriage as her newly appointed guards took their positions. Shin took up the horses’ reins as Leo climbed up to perch on the guard post beside the sunroof window. Kagura and Kavan moved to their rear guard positions.

Their travel through the palace grounds and out into the Upper Ring was uneventful. Kagura spent her time checking her gloves and doing her fourth pocket pat down of the morning.

Once they cleared the palace walls it was another story entirely.

Whispers traced their path through the city.

Kagura hadn’t noticed it at first. She’d been caught up in staring at the tops of the monolithic buildings that towered over the streets when a small exchange caught her ear.

“Demon’s out to play again.”

Her eyes snapped down in time to see some lordly asshole bend over to whisper in another’s ear.

“I don’t know how Her Excellency can stand it. That thing living in her walls.”

“If it lived in my home you know I’d…” The voices became indistinct as they moved further away.

After that she was aware of every cupped mouth and averted glare. Her shoulders rose higher and higher and she cut a glance at Kavan only to see him shake his head. His hand nearest to her flipped palm out for a moment before moving back.

Don’t. Not worth it.

Her eyes flicked up to meet Leo’s and she let her head tilt forward.

Leo grimaced and tapped twice on the carriage roof.

Shin flicked the reins, cuing the horses to speed up.

They moved through the Upper Ring as fast as possible.

The gate between the Upper and Lower Rings was gaudy and unnecessarily golden. There were guards posted every yard along the wall. The ones closest to the carriage bowed as they passed, backing up as they did.

The Lower Ring was only marginally better.

The working class didn’t bother with whispering those foolish remarks, not ready to face the possible jail time for insulting royalty. They did, however, turn away from the carriage and clutch their children close.

The closer they got to the edge of the Lower Ring the less people seemed to care. By the time they reached the Parting Gate, the cityfolk barely batted an eye at the Princess’s carriage.

The guards of the Parting Gate didn’t bow. Instead, each one gave a nod, arms crossed and faces stoic. Kagura startled a bit when she saw Princess Ursula’s hand slide out of one of the windows and give them all a wave.

Beyond the Parting Gate, the mood around the carriage took a dramatic turn.

Along the Palace City walls were camps and small slums of those forbidden from entering. Instead of whispered words and averted eyes were people trailing behind them. Children ran alongside the carriage, calling out to the ‘pretty ma’am’ to play with them.

A sudden low whistle sounded from Leo causing the carriage to slow to a halt.

Requested stop. Kagura frowned, peeking around the side of the vehicle.

The Princess was leaning out of the window, veil trailing in the breeze.

“Hello, my friends.” She Whispered causing the clamoring children to quiet down. “How have you been?”

“Good!” The tallest girl chirped. “Our carrots are ready to harvest!”

“That’s good to hear.” Ursula’s voice was soft.

“How is your sister?” A small boy asked.

Which one? Kagura wondered with a small snort.

“She is well, thank you.” Ursula retreated for a moment. “I must be going, my friends.” Her hand reached out again, holding a coin purse and a small sack. “Please tell your parents of my absence.”

“Ok.” The children chorused as the tall girl took the bags.

“Please be safe, miss!” A few of them rushed to say.

“You as well.” Ursula gave them a parting wave. Leo tapped the carriage roof twice and they were off once more.

Kagura kept her eyes on the slumfolk as they made their way out and found herself smiling as they waved toward them.

Once they reached the slum limits the carriage paused to let Kagura and Kavan hop on their rear guard perches and then they were off. They moved at a fast clip over the merchant roads and Kagura marveled at the smoothness of their ride.

Time seemed to pass more slowly than usual. As Kagura scanned the horizon, she began to take more notice of the wild flowers that dotted their way.

About midday they stopped by a river to give the horses a break. Kagura and Shin busied themselves by unhooking the horses. By the time they had finished watering and feeding the animals they returned to the carriage to find Leo in the depths of storytelling.

“- and Kagura, she’s super scary sometimes, looked him right in the eye and told him to f- um… I mean, flick off! So he got mad, like super mad, and went to punch her so I-!” Leo was rocking back and forth on his perch, grinning like a loon.

“Leo!” Kagura yelped. “Are you telling her Highness about a bar brawl?!”

“She asked about what we do!” He grinned down at her.

“So tell her about one of our missions! Don’t tell her about punching out some ass-,” she stopped herself, “ahem, uncouth civilian. You’re making us out to be crooks!”

“There is no need to worry, Ms. Ohm.” Kagura flushed when her eyes met the Princess’s own through her veil. “It is refreshing. I do think the man deserved whatever he got.”

“A header through the table?” Shin whispered as they passed behind Kagura.

She bit her tongue to stop the snort trying to punch through her. Kavan, of course, did nothing to stop his own.

The two finished hooking the horse back in, but as they moved to return to their places Kavan suddenly let out a short, shrill whistle.

Danger.

Kagura froze and let her aura explode out from her. The energy traced through every nook and cranny of the space, stretching out wider and wider as she scanned.

When the taste of metal flooded her mouth she snapped back into her own head.

“Thirty!” She yelled and gripped her seat as Shin leapt to their chair. A snap of the reins sent them forward at a full gallop.

“Cover!” Kavan roared and Shin ran them through the brush and into the treeline.

Kagura heard Leo yelp and watched an arrow sail past him.

“Switch!” Kagura cried and reached up to grab the hand Leo was holding down to her. She clambered up to the roof and guided Leo down safely before nocking her bow.

She crouched on the roof of the carriage and looked back at the way she had sensed their pursuers. Black shapes rocketed toward them across the field, much faster than they should have been able to move.

“Mages incoming!” She felt her energy pool into her fingers as she pulled back her first arrow. Purple magic zipped along the wood just in time for her to loose it. The arrow flew true and speared one of the shapes right through. She watched with satisfaction as it toppled to the ground. “Twenty nine!”

“Shin!” Kavan was suddenly beside her. “We need to stand our ground!”

“Yes, sir!” They called and let out a cough before letting the reins go. They stomped down on the release mechanism and watched the horses leave them behind for a moment before turning.

“Ooooo! This is just what I needed!” Leo growled, his voice incredibly lower than it had been before. Kagura refocused in time to see him launch off of the guard perch, his blade already glowing.

“Damn it, Leo!” Shin jumped from the carriage. They flung off their cloak to reveal the contract marks all over their body. As they pressed their hand to one on their shoulder Kagura dropped down into the carriage.

“Your Highness, I need you to listen to me.” She moved to watch through the window closest to the action. “If they enter the carriage, please entrust me to defend us.”

“I cannot promise that, Ms. Ohm.” Kagura turned in time to see the Princess loosen her belts.

“U-uh! What-?” She flustered until she saw the hardened leather armor beneath the silken robes. On her hips gleamed two blackened silver daggers.

“I am not as delicate as I have led you to believe.” Ursula tugged away her veil and the wig she wore along with it. Her hair underneath was silky, black and twisted into a crown braid. Her blood red eyes, the trait that every single thirteenth child shared, seemed to stare right through her.

Kagura cleared her throat. “Good.”

The two women stepped out of the carriage and straight into the throws of the battle around them.

Kagura lost herself to the violence. She watched Shin launch their elemental magics as she stabbed their enemies with poison tipped arrows. She saw Leo cackle in the crazed manner of berserkers as she slammed her bow into weak points. She witnessed Kavan throw their enemies clear through the air, ducking underneath some to loose arrows at others.

The person that held her attention the most, though, was her Highness.

Ursula whipped her way through the battlefield, blood splattering over her armor, as the daggers in her hands ended the lives of those that sought to kill her.

Soon, there was no one left to fight, bodies piled on the ground around them.

Kagura let out a sigh and winced when her ribs protested. Probably bruised.

“Thank you.” Ursula murmured as they all collected themselves. “I apologize for any injuries you have sustained protecting me.”

“Ha!” Leo laughed as he collapsed on the ground, beckoning Kagura over to look at his dislocated shoulder. “There’s no need for such formal language anymore, your Highness! We’re siblings in arms now!”

Ursula’s eyes widened. “Wh-what?”

“He’s right.” Shin glanced over at her from where they were staunching Kavan’s bleeding forehead wound. “We are your guards now, your Highness. We will fight alongside you until our contract ends. That is the promise we made.”

“I…” Ursula stumbled over her words for a moment. Her red eyes darted around to each of them. “Thank you.”

“No worries.” Leo waved his hand. “We welcome you.”

Kagura took that moment to set his shoulder back into place. She smiled when his high pitched squeak caused a shy, little smile to crawl across Ursula’s face.

She had a good feeling about this.

#ursula #kagura #shin #leo #kavan #creatober #gtpatcreatober

6 notes · View notes

arcadequeerz · 4 years

Text

Matora |Non Fandom OC|

THIS IS, the first oc I ever made, he means a lot to me, n i love him so mch c:b Matora is...sweetheart...

Matora is a 10ft tall wolf anthro looking creature. He has long, floofy black fur covering his body, it has darkish, golden colored speckle markings on it. These markings are on his forehead, under his eyes, down his muzzle, down his arms, shoulders, back, down his sides, hips, thighs and on his stomach. He has a mane of fur, its around his neck and goes onto the top of his head. The mane also goes down chest as a streak, stopping at his lower stomach. it also goes down his back stopping right at the base of his tail. The fur the manes made of is black and is quite fluffy and long, almost gives him the look of a head of long semi, curly hair? His ears are quite long and are wider then normal wolves ears. His nose on the end of his muzzle is a darkish brown with a black spot on it. His tail is pretty long and very bendable, covered in very floofy fur, the fur along the underside of his tail is longer and the fur at the tip of it is longer too. His tail has faint grey speckles that go down it. His hands are semi paw like, have five fingers on them with longish curved claws. They have paw pads on them, the paw pads are the same color as his nose. His legs are digitigraded, and have large paws n them with claws like those on his hands, and the fur on his ankles are a lil longer.

Body wise, Matora’s pretty chubby, has kind of wide set hips and biggish thighs, but still seems pretty muscular, (This is a horrible description of his Bodytype, I ho n estly can’t describe body types, so forgive me HGFDSHG d:xc

His eyes are a bright almost neon blue and his eyes glow quite brightly at night

Its quite hard to find clothes to fit his ten foot self, lucky he has a friend who makes them for him(Zeno makes em). Usually wears loose fitting kind of clothes, hoodies, sweaters, loose fitting pants. Often times he’ll keep the hoodie up over his head because people tend to be quite afraid of him ao he likes to cover his face. He’s very fond of earthy colors, like browns and dark greens. But he also loves the color yellow or light pinks. Sometimes he wears a lot of hair pins or bows in his mane.

Matora is the living embodiment of the saying “Gentle Giant”. Kind down to the core and as gentle as can be. He is very timid and often has trouble talking and interacting with others because of this. He is very quiet and doesn’t talk much. He trusts people easily, maybe a bit TOO easily, and that often leads to trouble. He’ll help anyone that needs help, no matter how big or small their problem is, he’ll help someone no matter what. Tends to be very nervous around people when he first meets them, but is kind to strangers nonetheless. EXTREMELY protective of his friends. He is very affectionate to friends and can be very sweet. If your a friend of his expect him to give you lots of hugs and always be a shoulder for you to cry on. He is generally a very sweet, and caring person to others and friends as long as they’re kind to him. When someone threatens his friends or someone he considers family he will not hesitate to “bite” back at the harasser. Sticking up for his friends is one of the only things that makes him push his timidness to the side to do. He will not take someone threatening the people he holds dear. At times Matora can seem very sad, mostly because he is, he is a very melancholy person and has much trouble dealing with depression and lots of self hatred. Most of which is centered around his appearance which hes often told looks monstrous and scary. This causes him to wish he wasn’t so big and intimidating, he wishes people could see past his appearance and get to know him, not be afraid of him. He’s happiest surrounded by his friends and hates to be alone.

He is passionate about caring for the woods he calls home, Darkwood, and is very found of animals of all kinds. His favorite animals are dogs/wolves. If he finds a sick or injured animal he’ll nurse the animal back to health and release them back into the forest. He loves to garden, he has a garden which he grows all sorts of veggies and flowers in. He also carves little figurines or statues out of wood, a lot of times their very detailed and he’ll sometimes paint them. The figurines are usually animals or flowers. He even carves some out of the crystals you can find in the caves around the woods. He also loves collecting lil trinkets he finds while wondering around the forest. Things like old jewelry, pretty rocks, or old toys. He is a very skilled hunter, doesn't use guns but instead sticks to using his claws, or his teeth to take down prey. He kills humanely and does it quickly to not prolong the animals suffering. Usually hunts small rodents, birds or deer and sometimes will eat fish from the lakes or rivers in the woods. He only kills what he needs to feed himself and no more and never kills just to kill. Hes actually able to eat raw meat, and usually prefers to eat it raw rather then cooked. He also likes eating fruits and enjoys certain veggies, but his diet mostly consists of meat. He sometimes goes out blueberry picking and strawberry picking when its berry season. Most human food makes him ill or not feel well. He is a fan of sweets though, and might eat some even if it does make him feel a bit sick later.

He has a very beautiful singing voice, sometimes while he’s alone, like walking through the woods, he’ll sing a lil tune to himself. He doesn't like to sing in front of others though. Too scared of hearing people tell him he sounds awful, which he believes he does, even though Zeno(who has caught him singing a few times) keeps telling him hes amazing at it, and very talented.

He lives in a old cabin in Darkwood at the very edge of a village/town of people. He visits it occasionally to buy groceries or things he needs. Sometimes he’ll bring what vegetables he grows to the farmers market and sells them there and also sells the lil figurines he makes there too. Most of the people in the village find him very scary, most tend to stay away from him, and some of the more Asshole people like to harass him when he comes around. He does his best to just ignore them and not let them get to him. Zeno is usually the one to tell people off and tell em to leave him alone. There are some people in the town that he does consider friends, but their far out numbered by those that dislike him.

He hates confrontation and hates fighting, even though he could Quite easily hurt someone, or kill them if he wanted to, he chooses not to. He usually lets people walk all over him and push him around, and rarely ever sticks up for himself. He’ll just sit there and take peoples abuse. He gets Very nervous and upset when people start to yell, doesn't like when people get mad because it scares him and usually leads to him believing its His fault and sometimes start crying, and apologizing even though something might not be his fault. You could Hit him, and even though he’d cry he’d still apologize like it was his fault. He basically walks on eggshells around Everyone out of fear of being yelled at or hurt.

Usually hides how he feels, keeps all his anger and frustration, and sadness all on the inside rather then talking to anyone about it, cus he doesn't like to burden people with his problems, pretends a lot of times to be happier then he really is.

He cries very easily, but doesn't like when people see him cry. Usually hides his face when he cries.

Hes able to make lots of wolf/dog like noises, and makes a low purring like sounds when happy. He also makes squeak like noises, hisses, growls and snarls as well. And he can howl too.

He loves to be pet, even though hes nervous/shy to admit it, favorite spot is his ears, having his cheeks pet and sometimes even belly pets(only allows people he loves/are his SO to give him belly pets though, hes very shy about it though)

Often wraps his tail around himself to keep himself arm, likes to have it wrap around his waist. Wags it really fast when happy or excited. When scared the fue on his tail puffs up big. He also likes wrapping his tail around people hes very close to/loves.

When angry, the fur along his back bristles/stands up. Usually growls/hisses/snarls and bares his teeth if angry.

His sense of hearing and smell is very good, and he can see very well in the dark.

He gets flustered very easily and not good at taking compliments. Often doesn't know how to respond and blushes very easily. When blushing the markings on his muzzle and under his eyes will turn pink. Hides his face in his tail when flustered.

Hes a very cuddly person, and if you were his SO expect him like to cuddle with you, and hug on you, and wrap his tail around you. Hes very affectionate and just super cuddly.

Matora stutters sometimes when he talks, hes very self-conscious about it, and when nervous/scared/upset his stuttering gets worse.

Matora’s genderflux and his pronouns are he/him sometimes they/them and she/her and hes pansexual!

#Cade's Characterz #long post #SHE'S A SWEETHEART. u wul all look atmy goodest lad #i havnt...rlly formulated a good backstory for him d:x #idk why buyt hes SUPER HARD for me to com up weith something d:(#nothing ever fits them n idk why d:(((#i hav som art of him too d:3c #i wil post in a moment!

9 notes · View notes

kim-seungmine · 5 years

Text

i’ll hold your hand (don’t let me go) - part 2 /2

title: I’ll hold your hand (don’t let me go) – part 2 / 2

characters: (fem) reader x hwang hyunjin of stray kids (feat. kim seungmin, han jisung of stray kids, lee chaeyeon of iz*one, myoui mina of twice + other skz members)

genres: fluff, angst, slice-of-life, college au

warnings: language, mentions of bullying & death

word count: 7.5k words

synopsis: hyunjin is no longer fearless and you feel that he’s slipping away from you... or is it the other way around?

a/n: you can read this as a stand-alone but it’ll be much better if you read the first part first. you can find the masterlist in my bio because i can’t put links here!

CHAPTER 2: ... but I love you

It’s finally spring, your favorite season because walking down the street when it’s -19C is definitely not your thing. But it’s also Monday, everybody’s least favorite day ever, no matter what the season is. When Yang Jeongin, Hyunjin’s roommate, tells you that the latter hasn’t woken up yet (it’s past 12PM), you have no choice but to pay a visit to the boys’ dormitory.

The security isn’t too tight during the day, so you manage to slip into the building easily. You stop in front of room number 320, knocking on it softly. Jeongin opens the door, welcoming you with a dimpled smile you always melt at. “I think he’s got a class at 3,” he says, zipping his backpack as he walks past you. “I did everything you told me to do, but it’s been 2 years and nothing ever works unless you do it yourself.”

Jeongin waves you goodbye, leaving you alone with your sleeping boyfriend. “Hyunjin,” you begin, shaking his body with all your might. He doesn’t budge, so you decide to act as if it’s Saturday and he’s staying over at your dorm because you live in a single room (you don’t know how he manages to sneak in, but Hwang Hyunjin surely has his ways).

You lay down beside him before circling your arms around his torso, burying your head in the crook of his neck. “Jinjin,” you try again, using the nickname he loves so much. Hyunjin lives for nicknames, he’s given you so many he can’t even remember them, but you only have one for him. Jinjin. You don’t really use it, but everytime you do, Hyunjin turns into a clingy but obedient big baby.

His eyes flutter open, and you place feathery kisses on his neck. “Please wake up,” you whisper against his skin, looking up to see him smiling at you. Hyunjin nods, wrapping you into a tight hug. “Can Jinjin sleep for five more minutes?” he mumbles.

“What will you do if I tell Jisung that you’re referring to yourself as Jinjin… in third person?” you threaten, smoothing his bed hair. Hyunjin whines, and you’re trying not to chuckle because this is serious. “You can’t make Jeongin and me do this all the time.”

“I know,” he answers, rocking you in his arms. “But it’s just sooo hard to wake up.”

You sigh, pulling away to look at him in the eyes. “Next time I’ll just let you miss classes. This is going to be my last time doing this, okay?”

“Okay,” he replies, and you give him a peck on his lips. “Alright. Now can Jinjin start getting ready so he can walk his beautiful girlfriend to class?” you tease, earning a hard pinch on your cheek.

Hyunjin sits up with you still in his arms. He gives you one more kiss before getting out of bed. “Please let me live, Y/N!”

It only takes Hyunjin twenty minutes to get ready. He’s already dressed in the red checkered shirt you gifted him last month and a pair of faded jeans. “You’re trying to turn me into Jisung, aren’t you?” he asks while looking at his reflection in the mirror.

“I just think that you look good in checkered shirts, that’s all,” you reply, feeding him a piece of kimbap you bought from CU*. “Speaking of Jisung, are we still meeting his friend tonight? Do you still have dance practices with Minho?”

Hyunjin opens the door, taking your hand in his before stepping out. “What’s a dance practice?!” he asks dramatically. “I only know staying up all night to design a living room!”

“I’m serious. He’s been asking to meet us so many times this week but we barely responded,” you say. Hyunjin mutters a tired, “Aigoo,” but takes out his phone to call Seungmin.

“Wow, you answered,” he exclaims, putting his phone on loudspeaker so you can hear their conversation. “You better not bail on us tonight, asshole. I don’t want to hear Jisung weep about us not being supportive.”

Seungmin scoffs, you can hear him closing his book. “What the hell? You’re the one who keep canceling! Y/N, tell him!”

You jab at Hyunjin’s waist, causing him to yelp loudly. “I’ll drag his lazy ass, Seungmin. Don’t worry,” you promise him. Seungmin laughs, telling you to take care before ending the call. You turn to Hyunjin who’s busy massaging his waist. “Do you have something you want to tell me?” you ask.

“Like what?” he challenges, squinting at the bright sunlight as both of you exit the dormitory. You’re swinging your intertwined hands softly, pondering whether you should ruin the blissful moment right now. “Like what?” Hyunjin repeats, causing you to stop on your tracks.

“I don’t know. You tell me.”

“Nothing happened, baby. I’m just tired,” he reassures you, dropping a kiss on the top of your head. “Now let’s get Jinjin’s beautiful girlfriend to class, shall we?”

Jeongin has saved you a spot when you arrive in class. You two went to the same school, but you never actually met him although Seungmin used to be his tutor and talked about the younger boy quite a lot. Sometimes you regret not knowing Jeongin sooner; he’s a brat, but he’s a sweet brat and he’s taught you a thing or two about life.

“So, what method did you use? Scream in his ear? Play his ‘HWANG HYUNJIN WAKE UP!!!’ alarm for a whole ten minutes? Pretending there’s an earthquake and the whole world is falling apart?”

Plus he’s endured being Hyunjin’s roommate for 2 years and put up with his sleeping habits.

You smile sourly at him, cringing when you recall the whole Jinjin-please-wake-up scenario. “He loves me that much, I guess,” you mumble. Jeongin smirks at you, lowering his voice so only you can hear him. “You used ‘the girlfriend method,’ didn’t you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Oh, the usual. Kissing the life out of him, calling him pet names, begging him to wake up. You went down the soft path, I bet.”

You just stare at him in disbelief, while he’s only giving you a smug smile. “Hyunjin sleep talks. I know a lot of things.”

The professor has entered the class, but you’re too distracted by Jeongin’s words to notice. “What do you know?” you ask, almost fearfully.

Jeongin points at the professor, signaling at you to start opening your book. “Well, let’s say that I know who Jinjin is,” he tells you in a sing-song tone.

You want to smash your head against the table. Dating Hwang Hyunjin is definitely not easy.

The café where Jisung wants to meet you isn’t far from your campus. You and Hyunjin are walking hand-in-hand, with Chaeyeon trailing behind you. “You kept hollering at us to meet you and your new friend and now you’re saying you’re going to be late?!” she yells at Jisung over the phone.

Jisung is now a—quoting Seungmin—somewhat superstar. He’s started a hiphop crew with a friend from his academy, and they’ve started to get attention from the public. You’ve only seen his friend on Instagram, so you’re really curious about him.

“He’ll be here soon,” Chaeyeon informs with a tired tone as you’re entering the café. “Is this why Jisung insisted we have to meet here?” Hyunjin asks, referring to the bright neon sign outside that reads “YOUNG WINGS.”

Chaeyeon stifles a laugh, nodding in agreement. “He deadass chose a café that has the same name as our group chat. Yep I guess he’s that sentimental.”

Hyunjin and Chaeyeon then get into an intense battle of recalling Jisung’s most “embarrassingly sentimental” moments. Just as you’re about to interrupt, Seungmin enters the café, huge eye bags under his eyes.

“Dude, are you okay?” Hyunjin panics, pulling up a chair for Seungmin to sit on. “When was the last time you slept?”

Seungmin looks even thinner compared to the last time you saw him, which was three months ago. He’s dyed his hair red at the start of the semester, now the color has washed away and his roots are showing. Red looks amazing on Seungmin, you swear to God, but now it just makes him look more tired.

“Let me order you a drink,” Chaeyeon says, making her way to the counter. Hyunjin scoots closer to his friend, offering his shoulder. “Here, sleep. I’ll wake you up when Jisung arrives,” he suggests as you slowly push Seungmin’s head to Hyunjin’s shoulder.

“Do you know any of his SNU friends?” you ask Hyunjin, who only shakes his head slightly. “No. Does he ever talk about them? It seems like he doesn’t do anything but study.”

Chaeyeon returns with a cup of jasmine tea, setting it down in front of a fast-asleep Seungmin. “Oh God, he’s dying,” she whispers, taking off his glasses. None of you says anything for a while, just listening to Seungmin’s soft snore while staring at the door.

“That’s them,” Hyunjin breaks the silence, waving his hand at Jisung and his pink-haired friend before turning to Seungmin. You almost want to stop him from waking the redhead up, but Jisung’s loud voice already makes him stir.

“What’s going on?” Jisung’s voice drops as his eyes land on Seungmin. Chaeyeon only sighs, politely telling Jisung’s friend to sit down. “Should we just let him sleep?” she wonders, asking for Jisung’s permission. The blue-haired boy nods, but Hyunjin grunts in protest. “Can we switch? My shoulder is aching already.”

“I’ll do it,” Jisung offers. “I’m gonna order first.”

Chaeyeon averts her attention to the man sitting beside her. “Jisung as talked about you a lot!” she chirps. He smiles, showcasing his dimples. “I’m Bang Chan. I bet Jisung has talked about you guys a lot more than he talked about me!”

“Really?”

“Yeah, I even know your names already! You are,” he stops to point at Hyunjin. “Tall, goddamn handsome, pillowy lips. You must be Hwang Hyunjin.”

Hyunjin looks at him in awe. “How the fuck did you memorize all of that?” he mutters, earning a proud smirk from Chan. He darts his eyes to you, clapping his hands excitedly. “You! You’re Y/N, right? The one who made Jisung start doing all of this.”

You raised your eyebrows as Chaeyeon gasps. “What did he tell you about me?”

“Nothing, actually. Just the fact that Hyunjin gives you heart eyes all the time.”

“And me? How about me?!” Chaeyeon squeals a bit too loud, forgetting that Seungmin is still sleeping on Hyunjin’s shoulder. Chan laughs, pretending to think hard before flashing her a smile. “You’re Lee Chaeyeon, Jisung’s favorite girl.”

Chaeyeon’s cheeks turn pink at his statement, causing Hyunjin to whistle. “He won’t shut up about you,” Chan explains, nudging Chaeyeon playfully. “Although all you do is nag at him.”

“Jisung can’t survive without Chaeyeon’s nagging,” Seungmin suddenly quips. He pats Hyunjin’s back, mouthing a thank you before stretching his body. “And you’re the perfect, almighty Kim Seungmin,” Chan utters, almost starstruck.

“What’s with that look?” Seungmin asks him, sipping his lukewarm jasmine tea. “There’s literally nothing you can’t do. I kept asking Jisung if you were real,” he shares. Seungmin only laughs, reaching out to give Chaeyeon a pat on her head. “Thanks for the tea.”

“Jisung said you have a lot of idol friends!” Chaeyeon exclaims. Chan shakes his head bashfully. “Out of all things he told you that?” he chuckles. You and Chaeyeon are into idol groups thesedays, so you pester Chan to tell you who are the ones he’s friends with.

“Well, I’m friends with Wanna One’s Daehwi and Woojin. I know Pentagon’s Yuto too. Hmm, who else?” he muses while all of you are focusing on him. “Ah! I’m close with Stray Kids’ Lee Jungjin. He recently released a solo album, you guys know him, right?”

The whole table freezes, shooting Hyunjin a worried look. “I see,” Seungmin responds with an awkward laugh. “So are you guys preparing for the audition? Jisung said you two are going to Show Me the Money this year.”

Chan notices Seungmin’s lame attempt to change the topic, but brushes it off.

“Yeah, we are. I think it’ll be a good experience for us,” he says, looking relieved when Jisung comes back.

“Man, the line is long,” he sighs, putting down his chocolate float on the table. Chaeyeon gives him a look that pretty much says, “Please save us,” and he complies, although you’re sure he doesn’t know what the hell is going on. You grab Hyunjin’s hand under the table, lacing your fingers with his.

Hyunjin squeezes your hand, turning to Chan with a hardened expression he’s trying so hard to hide. “I just remembered that I have something to do,” he announces. “It was nice meeting you, Chan. Good luck with the audition, and don’t hesitate to knock some senses into this stupid squirrel if he’s being annoying.” Jisung is about to retort, but Seungmin stops him.

“Call me when you finish, I’ll pick you up. Both of you,” Hyunjin tells you, pointing at Chaeyeon as well. Chaeyeon nods as Jisung stares at you in confusion. Hyunjin gives you a quick kiss on your temple before heading out of the café.

“Did I say something wrong?” Chan asks, looking guilty and confused at the same time. You, Seungmin, and Chaeyeon exchange glances, wondering whether Chan should know about what happened between Hyunjin and Jungjin.

Jisung is busy with his phone, his fingers typing impatiently and you instantly know that he’s texting Hyunjin. You wait until he gets a reply, while Seungmin and Chaeyeon try to dismiss the conversation.

“Chan I’m going to talk about this just once and you have to keep it a secret, okay?” Jisung instructs. You heave a sigh when Chan nods; you’ve always wanted to know more about Jungjin, but Hyunjin always refused to talk about him in details.

“Lee Jungjin was the one who bullied Hyunjin, along with some other trainees. And he was also the one chosen to replace Hyunjin in Stray Kids when his parents pulled him out of the group.”

Hyunjin is already waiting for you in front of the girls’ dormitory building when you arrive. Seungmin, Jisung and Chaeyeon bid you goodbye, but not without silently asking you to update them about your boyfriend.

“See you later, loverboy!” Jisung shouts as Chaeyeon drags him away. Hyunjin immediately wraps his arms around you the moment you get close enough to him. “Chaeyeon’s not going home?” he asks as Seungmin waves at him.

“They’re going for a drink,” you explain, booping his nose with yours. Jisung is going to concentrate on his audition and wants to spend some time with all of you before going M.I.A for a while. You wanted to join, but you knew Hyunjin was waiting for you and wouldn’t be in the mood for socializing. Today was the first time you saw Hyunjin incredibly upset after two years, and luckily your friends think it’s important to console him.

“When’s Mina coming back from New York?” he asks. Mina is currently on tour with her ballet company, and you know that affects Hyunjin more than he wants to admit. One of his best friends is cementing her position as a top dancer, something he desperately wants to pursue as well.

“Probably next month. Hopefully Jisung and Chan pass the preliminary round so Mina will get a chance to see them perform live,” you mutter, squishing his face with your hands when he starts to pout. “How are you feeling?”

Hyunjin sighs as you release your hold on his face. He seems hesitant to tell you; Jungjin is a topic you guys never talk about after high school ended. “I was just… mad. I thought I was doing okay. I no longer want to punch a wall everytime I see him on TV or billboards. I thought I forgave him.” He pulls at his hair in frustration. “But when Chan brought him up… I’m sorry. I ruined the night, didn’t I?”

“It’s fine. Forgiving someone who did something horrible to you isn’t easy. It needs time,” you reassure him. “But will you-”

“I will,” Hyunjin cuts you. “I’ll call Jisung later.”

“You have to stop doing that.”

“What?”

“Reading my mind. Only Seungmin can do that.”

Hyunjin laughs, giving you one last kiss on your cheek before pushing you towards the building. “Good night, Y/N,” he says. You smile at him, your heart feeling heavy as he turns around. This is the beginning of another break down, you can feel it. Hyunjin hasn’t been like himself lately, and what happened tonight only makes it worse.

“Jinjin!” you call out, running to catch up with him. You grab his hand, tiptoeing to capture his lips with yours. Hyunjin rests his hand on the small of your back, bending down so you don’t need to stretch your body. He sighs, trying to whisper how much he loves you in between the kiss. His eyes look slightly brighter when you pull away. “What is this? Usually I’m the one stealing kisses from you,” he asks in an amused tone. You place another kiss on the corner of his lips, hoping that your next few words will make a little difference.

“I’m here for you, Jinjin,” you whisper.

Hyunjin chuckles, light and happy and you’re praying that it will always sound like that.

“I know.”

Jisung and Chan turn out to be the biggest sensations on Show Me the Money, with the show constantly highlighting their friendly rivalry and sweet bromance. Tonight is the semifinal, and Jisung has invited all of you to watch him perform live. “If I get eliminated, at least I’ll have people to cry with later,” he said.

Hyunjin has gone full hip-hop for tonight, sporting a black shirt and ripped jeans with a metal lip ring adorning his bottom lip. He’s wearing his usual silver cross necklace along with some new ones, and also a white bucket hat. You don’t know whether you should be embarrassed, but you gotta admit that your boyfriend looks hot. “Will we get to see Zico? Will the producers come out?” He cranes his neck to see the stage better, his hand resting on your hips.

Chaeyeon, who’s also gone full hip-hop with her black leather jacket , stockings, and denim shorts, is pumped up with equal excitement. “I don’t think so but they’re supposed to be backstage? We’re basically breathing the same air!”

“There are a lot of hip-hop concerts and festivals you can go to, you don��t need to embarrass us like this,” Seungmin comments. You laugh, trying to ignore other girls (and boys) who keep checking Hyunjin out.

“Have you been to one?” you ask, waving at Mina when you spot her entering the venue. “I’ve been to hundreds,” Seungmin corrects you, causing Hyunjin and Chaeyeon to immediately whip their heads to him. “What? Day6 isn’t the only band I like.”

The conversation is cut short as the MC appears and Mina joins you. All of you scream on the top of your lungs throughout Jisung’s performance, in which he spits fire and exudes such a mindblowing charisma that everyone here will never even imagine that Han Jisung a.k.a J.One gets blasted by all of you (especially Chaeyeon) at least twice a day.

“If he keeps this up, he can really advance to final round, don’t you think?” you whisper to Hyunjin, who’s not bouncing up and down anymore. He’s focused on Jisung, following his every movement. The audience cheers as the song ends, shouting “J.One! J.One! J.One” so loudly you think you’re going deaf. Hyunjin keeps his eyes on the stage, watching Jisung saluting the crowd as the lights go out.

He’s looking at the stage with so much longing and sadness, and the familiar feeling of seeing someone you love falling into a limbo tugs at your heartstrings.

“There’s something wrong with Hyunjin.”

You look up from your book to see Jeongin standing in front of you with a worried face. “It started a while back, but I thought he was just stressed with assignments or something.”

“What happened?” you croak, wanting to hear everything while expecting Jeongin to say that he’s joking. You and Hyunjin haven’t really been talking these days, mainly because he constantly shuts you out while you feel like giving up.

You’re not giving up on Hyunjin. Not now, not ever!

Jeongin bites his lips, trying to relay the information as calmly as possible. “At first he was just mumbling nonsense in his sleep. Then he started shouting, I can’t describe it but it was really scary,” he says. “He does nothing but working on his assignments. Like, can you imagine Hyunjin being studious? He won’t even talk to me. When I asked him why he was all serious and gloomy, he said he’s trying not to get lost.”

Lost. This is it. The beginning of the end.

“I don’t want to be rude but, are you guys fighting?”

You shake your head. “He’s just… a bit stressed out, that’s all. I’m just giving him space.”

“I think Hyunjin needs you, Y/N.”

You know that. You fully understand how much Hyunjin needs you right now. It’s just, it’s hard. It’s hard for you to constantly trying to cheer him up, to make him know that everything’s going to okay.

“If Hyunjin makes you worried, if his behavior is stressing you out, you can ask to get a new roommate, Jeongin. It’s okay,” you tell him, but Jeongin scoffs. “I’m staying. This is our Hyunjin, Y/N. I’ll figure things out if you don’t want to.”

Jeongin doesn’t even look at you during the entire lecture. You, meanwhile, keep looking at his direction, hoping he’ll give you a chance to explain yourself. But do you even know how to explain your feelings to yourself? You’re never good at the whole “I’ll always be there for you” thing; you always want to run when things get hard. You avoid everything, as if nothing is more important than living without worries.

You’ve promised Hyunjin so many times that you’ll always hold his hand, to never let go. But now you’re not sure anymore.

felix: park jinyoung is back in korea

felix: i think you should know

felix: he just called me. asked for your number

You nearly drop your phone when you read Felix’s message. Jinyoung left Korea shortly before you moved to JYP High. Shortly after you broke up with him. You know he didn’t leave only because of you, but if you stayed by his side, maybe he wouldn’t have left.

y/n: did you give him to him

y/n: felix

felix: you know theres no way i’d tell him “y/n has a new bf now pls move on” right

felix: you cant avoid him forever

y/n: i know

Hyunjin is sitting in front of you, looking out of the window while sipping his Americano. “Baby?” he calls out, tapping your fingers. You look up, forcing yourself to smile when you meet his tired eyes. You decided to pay him a visit at his dorm while Jeongin is out of town with his friends.

“Yeah?”

“Something bothering you?” he asks.

“What? Nothing.”

“You sure?”

“I should be the one asking you that,” you say sternly. Hyunjin frowns, snatching your phone from you. He opens Felix’s messages, and his eyes become darker as he reads all the recent messages. You reach for his hand, trying to get your phone back. “Hyunjin.”

“Who’s Park Jinyoung?” he demands.

“No one.”

“Your ex-boyfriend? Or are you cheating on me?”

“Hyunjin, please.”

He stops, handing your phone back to you before crossing his arms. You never meant to keep Jinyoung a secret, but you’re not proud of what you did to him. It only reminds you of how selfish you are, how bad of a person you are.

“Jinyoung was my boyfriend in high school,” you explain. “During the 11th grade he and his brother got into a car accident. He survived, his brother didn’t.”

Hyunjin doesn’t say anything, but signals you to continue. “I cared about Jinyoung, I really did. I still do, but he wasn’t the same anymore after the accident.”

“Anyone wouldn’t be okay after such a tragedy, I know. It didn’t make me like him any less, but then he… refused to talk to anyone and kept throwing tantrums. I tried to help him, but after a few months I couldn’t take it anymore. I gave up.”

You finally have the nerve to look into Hyunjin’s eyes although what you’re going to say is going to break his heart. “I broke up with him. I told him I couldn’t stay anymore.”

“I’m sorry, Hyunjin. I know I shouldn’t have done that. I feel so, so sorry. You must be disappointed-”

“Is that why you’re with me now?” he cuts you off. “Because you feel sorry for me? Because you want to redeem yourself?”

He stands up, eyes brimming up with tears as he walks towards his door and opens it. “I knew it,” he mutters through gritted teeth. “Poor Hwang Hyunjin got bullied and now he’s all fucked!” he shouts.

“You’re not, Hyunjin. You can still dance again—”

“I don’t want to disappoint my parents, okay?! I’m all they have so I can’t do whatever I want just because I feel like it.”

Hyunjin is already crying at this point, and you’ve never felt this broken before. The past two years feel like a dream, a sweet dream you both refuse to wake up from. Reality bites, and it bites you hard.

“You didn’t even ask why I chose to go to college,” he quivers. “I told myself that I would stop dancing after high school. No more training. No more auditioning. I have to get myself together. For them. For you.”

Hyunjin takes a deep breath before gripping your shoulders. His next words feel like knives jabbing at your heart. “If you can’t handle me anymore, you can leave. You’re tired, aren’t you?”

You desperately want to tell him no. I love you, Hyunjin, you’re not a burden.

But nothing comes out.

“How have you been?”

You wish you can choose not to answer that question, but you smile, hoping that it will conceal the sorrow in your eyes. “I’ve been okay. How about you?”

Jinyoung clasps his hands together as if expecting your response. He only stares at you, like he’s rehearsing a scenario in his head. “I’m fine. Much better,” he answers, and you release the breath you didn’t know you’ve been holding.

“Look, Y/N. I just want to apologize for everything I did back in high school. It must’ve been tough for you.”

You shake your head while he’s smiling at you, as if knowing how you’ll react—once again. “No, Jinyoung. I’m sorry for leaving you when you needed me the most.”

The Jinyoung sitting in front of you right now is the extreme opposite of the Jinyoung you left. He’s no longer drowned. He’s no longer lost. He’s alive and well and whole, like the first love you cherished and treasured.

“I was angry at you for a long time,” Jinyoung confesses. “One day I found my old phone, the one I used before we broke up.”

“I read all the messages you sent me. You asked me whether I ate, whether I felt okay. You panicked when I skipped school. You apologized; damn you kept saying sorry although I was the one being an asshole.”

“It’s okay. You were grieving—”

“That’s not a reason,” Jinyoung says. “I thought I was the most miserable person on Earth. Maybe I was, to some extent. But then I realized that you were hurting too. You were close to my brother as well.”

“I wasn’t the only one who lost him. You did too. And then you lost me.”

Jinyoung chuckles when he sees you tearing up. “Don’t cry,” he coos, patting your head. “I thought I was alone, that nobody understood me. But you were there. Felix was there. Everybody was trying to understand me.”

“Felix told me you have a boyfriend now?” he asks.

You almost nod your head. “I don’t know anymore.”

Jinyoung smiles knowingly (now that you think about it, Jinyoung really reminds you of Seungmin), offering you tissues to wipe your tears. “You’ll figure it out, you’re not a bad person, Y/N. I’ll testify for you if you need me to!”

No matter what side you’re on—good or evil, love or hate, truth or lie—the choices will always be there, ready to attack you at the most unpredictable time. You won’t call yourself a good person; God you probably don’t deserve even half the things you have right now. But you’re going to fight for them. You’re going to fight for Hyunjin.

So you smile, and this time it’s a genuine one.

“When are you guys going home?” Seungmin nags, glaring at you and Chaeyeon who are sprawled on his bed, laughing at random Instagram videos. The two of you barged into his house two hours ago, completely sabotaging his study session… on purpose.

“Come on, Kim Seungmin, get a life!” Chaeyeon replies as you sit up, eyeing him from head to toe. “You seem totally out of it. You okay?”

“Why won’t I be okay?”

Seungmin doesn’t really bottle up his emotions anymore, but there are times when he scares you with how flatly he dismisses questions about his well-being. “You’re not going through the same crisis as Hyunjin, are you?”

Chaeyeon sits up at your question, and Seungmin laughs. “I’m fine. I work hard, but I also play hard.”

“By going to hundreds of hiphop concerts?” Chaeyeon teases.

He rolls his eyes at her. “I have other friends, for God’s sake. Didn’t you guys see all my Instagram updates?”

When neither of you responds, Seungmin grabs a notebook from his desk. He flips through the pages quickly before stopping on a page full of flowcharts and notes. “I’m starting a project. I hope I can somehow use this as my graduation project. If not, well then, I’m screwed.”

Chaeyeon takes the notebook from him, humming in approval as she reads all the details. “You’re starting a website? For kids like us? What do you mean?”

“I went through so much shit after I told my parents I wanted to become a baseball player,” Seungmin explains. “Then I got into singing, but I never want to go through that again. It was hard, but things got better eventually. I enjoy what I’m doing now.” He turns to you. “So, to answer your question, no. I’m not going through the same thing Hyunjin is dealing with now.”

You give him a playful smirk. “Although Seo Changbin signed with KIA Tigers?”

“Although Seo Changbin signed with KIA Tigers.”

Chaeyeon fakes a yawn while she, in fact, is hiding a smile. “Sooo… in conclusion?”

“There are kids like me, and then there are kids like Hyunjin, who will never be able to live peacefully before doing what they’re really passionate about,” he continues. “There are kids like Jisung who can be so confident and insecure all at once.”

“In conclusion, I want to create a space for everybody. To let them know that there will always be a place for them no matter what kind of shit they’re dealing with. That’s it. Thanks for coming to my Ted talk!”

Now Seungmin is exchanging looks with Chaeyeon, and you figure it’s time to talk about the elephant in the room.

“Let me get this clear. You and Hyunjin didn’t break up, right?” Chaeyeon asks, munching on the potato chips she’s sharing with Seungmin.

“None of us said that word, but I don’t think that’s important now.”

“How is that not important?” Chaeyeon presses, and suddenly you realize how weird the situation is. You’re talking about your relationship with Hyunjin with Chaeyeon—who had feelings for Hyunjin and Seungmin—who had feelings for you.

“Let’s talk about that later.”

“Y/N.”

Chaeyeon sighs, grabbing your slumped shoulder so she can look directly into your eyes. “I had a crush on Hyunjin. You love Hyunjin. That’s a whole different case. You can talk to me.”

“I didn’t sing in front of the whole school for you guys to break up like this,” Seungmin says, causing you to blush when you remember that he dedicated Day6’s First Time to you. You have to admit that you haven’t listened to the song ever since he did that.

“I let Hyunjin down.”

“Everyone lets somebody down,” Seungmin replies.

“Yeah. Thesedays Jisung always calls me in the wee hours in the morning and I never pick up. Now he’s sulking."

“Lee Chaeyeon, you and Jisung are practically dating.”

“We’re not!”

Seungmin mimics Chaeyeon’s expression before punching her shoulder playfully. “He’s just too scared to confess and you’re just too proud to admit that you like him.”

“Stop it!”

Jeongin has bombarded you with messages, but all of them can be summed up into one sentence: Hwang Hyunjin is a mess. You’ve been waiting for the right time to talk to him, but now you find it ironic.

You’re looking, searching, yearning for the right time while losing it at the same time.

After Seungmin and Chaeyeon convinced you to stop dragging this around, you finally texted Hyunjin. Now you’re alone in the middle of the night, reading Hyunjin’s simple “okay” after you asked him to meet you at a small playground near your dormitory where you often hang out together. A familiar shadow walks in your direction, and before you can stop yourself, you have run towards it.

Luckily, it does turn out to be Hyunjin.

“Hey.”

He stops, frowning when he notices that you’re not wearing any jacket. “It’s cold,” he comments in a disapproving tone, but you only shake your head. “I’m fine.”

“Y/N.”

“We have more important things to talk about than me not wearing jacket, Hwang Hyunjin.”

“Okay,” he replies, leading you to one of the benches. Hyunjin takes off his jacket and drapes it around your shoulders. You inhale, staring into his tired eyes and you want to kill yourself for making him even more miserable than he already is.

“I’m in love with you,” you mutter, using the exact same words he used when he first confessed to you. Hyunjin blinks before averting his gaze to a stray dog near the bushes. “How can you be in love with me? Not the one everyone knows, but me.”

“Because you’re my Hyunjin. I love the smiley, clingy, energetic, hard-working, brave, and somehow flirty Hyunjin. But then I realized that even if you’re struggling or stressing out or feeling lost… you’re still you. You’re still the one I’m in love with.”

“Who do you talk to when you feel sad?” he asks firmly. “Not me, right?”

Hyunjin’s eyes don’t seem tired anymore. They’re now burning with anger, and you have no idea how to respond to that. He then pulls you into his embrace, caressing your hair softly although you can feel how upset he is. “I wanted to be angry at you but this is happening because of me. You’re tired, sad, and confused because of me. I’m dragging you down.”

“You’re not,” you counter. “There are times when I’m lost too, Hyunjin. But no, I don’t want to leave.”

He pulls away, sighing as you smile at him. “I’m sorry,” he pleads. “Am I being selfish if I still want to start over? I want to take care of you, Y/N. I want to listen to your rambles, I want to eat ice cream at 1AM during winter with you, and I want to wake up to you calling me Jinjin. But I also want to hug you when you feel sad, I want to hear all your problems, I want to help you solve them. Just like what you’ve been doing for me all this time.”

He starts to smile as well when yours get wider. “No,” you answer, tucking your head in the crook of his neck. “That means you love me.”

“I do,” he quickly says, wrapping his arms around you again like he’s afraid that you will change your mind. “I don’t deserve you, but will you let me try?”

You hum, relishing the comfort of his body heat as he lifts you so that you’ll sit on his lap. “Do you want me to sneak you inside the dorm?” Hyunjin offers, trying to take out his phone from his back pocket.

“You have a ball of sass as your roommate,” you remind him. Jeongin will roast you for another fifty years if you end up sneaking in and kicking him out of his own room, even though you’re sure that Hyunjin will have to endure more than that.

After making exaggerated scenarios of how Jeongin will react if Hyunjin really ends up bringing you back, you spend the rest of the night curling up in Hyunjin’s arms, constantly checking if there are people around. Your boyfriend, meanwhile, makes it clear that he doesn’t give a damn. He kisses your cheeks every 2 minutes (you’re shamelessly counting and proud of it), listening to all sorts of stories you tell him.

“What are you going to do now? Are you going to drop out?”

“No. I haven’t told my parents anything,” Hyunjin states. “I’ll just start dancing again for now.”

He shifts under you, lifting your chin to look into your eyes. “Are you feeling better?” he whispers, his gaze mirroring his shaky voice.

“You’re here. How can I not feel better?”

Hyunjin beams at you as he leans closer to crash his lips on yours. “I’ve missed you,” he rasps, cupping your face to kiss you harder. You want to reply, but everytime his lips make contact with yours, you feel dizzy. Hyunjin whines when you’re pulling away, so you comply, letting him kiss you more slowly. He then trails open-mouthed kisses along your jawline and neck before nipping your collarbone. “Jinjin,” you call out breathlessly.

He looks up. “Hmm?”

“Just promise me one thing.” You reach for his hand, feeling his slender fingers wrap yours in an instant. “Don’t ever let me go.”

“I promise.”

“You’re friends with CB97 and never told me about it. I’m rioting!” Jeongin stomps his feet on the ground as he has his ticket checked. Jisung and Chan are Show Me the Money’s newest winner and runner-up respectively, and the two are inviting all of you to their first solo concert.

Felix is recording his surroundings with his phone, pushing Jeongin’s head out of his way as he’s shooting the empty stage. “Jisung will take photos with us, right Y/N?”

“Why are you so obsessed with taking photos with Jisung?” Hyunjin shudders. “I swear it’s nothing special.”

The freckled boy points at his phone. “Gotta do it for the ‘gram, man.”

Mina, who just arrived in Seoul this morning, waves her phone in front of you and Hyunjin. “I have a surprise for you, Hwang Hyunjin!” she squeals as Chaeyeon grabs her phone to read news from an entertainment website.

“Ballerina Myoui Mina has been added to the Dancing with the Stars lineup,” she reads loudly. Seungmin, Jeongin, and Felix clap at this while you and Chaeyeon are grinning, knowing what the news is about.

“When asked about whom her partner, she said,” Chaeyeon pauses, gesturing at Mina to deliver the good news herself.

Mina clears her throat. “She said, ‘This has never been done before but I begged the producers to cast a friend of mine.’ “

Hyunjin perks up at the word friend, but says nothing while Seungmin mutters a surprised, “Ah!”

“’And that friend is my best friend from high school, Hwang Hyunjin.’”

All of you gather around Hyunjin, giving him a tight group hug. Other people are eyeing you with annoyance but none of you cares. Seungmin and Jeongin are beyond ecstatic, trying to attack the tall boy with kisses.

“Myoui Mina!” Hyunjin exclaims as he shoves Jeongin off. “You’re the best!” he shouts, causing Mina to laugh. Everyone has realized that the graceful and famous Mina is here in the middle of audience; they’re now snapping photos of her while whispering to each other.

“Oh anyways, I also have a surprise for you.” Hyunjin takes out his phone to show you a poster of Lee Jungjin. “He’s holding a concert. I’ve booked tickets for us.”

You squeal, smooching his cheek hard. “I’m proud of you. So proud.”

The music is getting louder and soon, Jisung appears on stage. He just stands there, looking at his fans with so much gratitude. “He’s looking at them like that but can you guys guess what he’s thinking about?” Chaeyeon asks.

“Hmm… he’s forgetting his lyrics?” Seungmin guesses.

Jeongin adds, “He forgot his lyrics and now writing the new one inside his head.”

“This is Han Jisung we’re talking about,” Chaeyeon scoffs. “Pay attention. He wants to pee.”

You snort, about to voice out a witty reply but Jisung has greeted the audience. “Chan and I originally wanted to start with a club banger. But then we decided to dedicate our first and last songs to our loved ones, especially to our friends and family who are here today.”

He points at your direction, waving back at Mina who can barely contain her excitement. “I started writing this song during high school, when I was insecure and unsure about what I wanted to do,” Jisung continues. “I just found out recently that I never finished writing it, so I did it and now I’m going to perform it for the first time.”

The crowd goes wild as the instrumental starts to play. “This is for my friends, my family; the ones who never leave no matter how many times I’ve made them worried.”

“Also, Lee Chaeyeon!”

Jisung stops to locate Chaeyeon, smiling when he finds his girlfriend fiddling with the hem of her blouse, feeling uncomfortable with the attention she’s getting. “Don’t worry, you’ll hear the song I wrote just for you later.”

He smirks, eyes glinting with mischief that always annoys Chaeyeon. “I’m breaking up with him,” she mutters through gritted teeth while glancing at her shoes. “I set my Instagram to private because of this bastard and his popularity and now he’s embarrassing me in public! He’s dead.”

Mina giggles, forcing her to look at the stage because Jisung continues to stare at her (and all of you). When Chaeyeon finally looks up, he gives her a different kind of smile you’ve never seen before. “This is ‘I See,’” he announces.

“Truthfully I’m very much weak-hearted

If the night is really dark, I’ll be too scared to sleep.”

Hyunjin glances at you, who’s burying your face in his chest because you’re crying. He chuckles, wrapping his arm around you. “Was this one of the songs you read on his notebook?” You nod, sobbing harder as Chaeyeon approaches you with teary eyes. She hugs you from the side, crying along with you.

“Eh eh thank you for worrying about me.

Thank you!”

Soon, all of you are huddled together, with the girls crying and the boys cursing at Jisung for making them cry too. “I can’t believe I’m tearing up at what Han Jisung is rapping,” Seungmin sniffles, smacking Hyunjin on his back when the latter laughs at him.

Jisung crouches down as he gets to the last few lines, wiping his own tears. “He’s already crying and it’s only the first song. Unbelievable,” Chaeyeon sobs.

“Just wait right there, I’ll reach it someday

Stop the clock for a while

The flower will blossom someday

This rocky fantasy

I’ll make sure that I’ll reach that mirage and catch you.”

“J.ONEEEEEEEEE!” you shout as the song comes to an end. You look at each of your friends; Felix who’s gone through everything with you, Mina who’s helped you to feel better about yourself, Seungmin who’s sacrificed a lot for everyone, Chaeyeon and Jeongin who have always been honest to you, and Jisung who’s made you feel loved and appreciated.

And then there’s Hyunjin.

He may not always be the dreamy, mesmerizing Hyunjin you fell in love with back in high school. But this Hyunjin—the one who’s facing his demons, the one who’s showering you with more and more love each day, the one who’s fighting for his dreams—is the Hyunjin whom you want to spend the rest of your life with.

“Mina, will you take a photo with me too?” Felix suddenly asks as Chan enters the stage.

“Lee Felix, stop being such a fanboy!” you protest.

Mina nods, flashing Felix her sweetest smile. “Sure! Who else wants a pic with me?”

Seungmin turns to Felix, wiggling his finger in front him. “Don’t do it,” he warns. “I did that once and my comment section was flooded with my friends asking me to introduce them to her.”

“Shut up!” Chaeyeon snaps. “Please appreciate my boyfriend who’s invited all of you to this holy concert.”

“You want to break up with him, remember?” Hyunjin jokes.

Everyone bursts into a hearty laugh, and you realize how far all of you have come. You and your best friends have survived many obstacles together, and you’re sure there will be more hardships in the future. But you’ll be fine. You have each other, and it’s safe to say that all of you have made a silent promise to always hold each other’s hands. To never let go.

* a convenience store in Korea

AND THATS IT!!!! I’ve finished the most tiring project ever. I hope you can somehow relate to this and feel better about yourself. I really love our little group of friends, I love writing about them a lot. Oh, the translation for I See’s lyrics (this is one of Jisung’s solo mixtape anyways!) belongs to @/seungmnis on Twitter!

284 notes · View notes

indomitablemegnolia · 5 years

Text

It was edging onto the noon hour, eleven-thirty-six am to be exact, but you couldn’t tell by the light of the sun; Gods, it was as if Fenrir the wolf had jumped out of a Norse legend into the sky to swallow the sun; I had already been at the airport for five and a half hours; my red eye was cancelled, and I had been bounced from gate to gate to gate, to wait to wait to wait, only to be told nothing was happening; they always stressed the word yet, but what they really meant was, ever. It was really not a huge surprise, I had watched the weather report while listening to my neighbor get lucky; the animal noises and obvious gymnastics required to make such a ruckus would have left me exhausted for weeks, but here they go again, well, at least someone is getting some. I was surprised there wasn’t cracks and holes in which to watch in that shoddy, tiny, airport motel room, just barely a step above an S.R.O., but it was a bed and damn I was tired this was a trip doomed from the word go, giving me little glimpses of the movie ‘Fight Club’ after the first hour of meetings, suddenly I was Jack’s complete lack of surprise. My agenda, my plan… my hope, now dead, dead as dreams, it began full of such potential; that was zapped away within seconds, so why should it end any easier, really? What did I expect traveling to a place called Port Chester, New York? God, it sounds like the setting for a soap opera, but truly, in retrospect more like an episode of supernatural, including a vengeful spirit.

Speaking of vengeful spirits, the dark icy clouds encased the airport in a swaddle of gloom, like the foreboding storm from poltergeist; anyone who can read the sky could see that the weather was only going to get worse. Those dark clouds only served as an ominous warning, a foreboding that should have come as a warning, or possibly in the form of a question. getting blacker, rain already turning to solid ice as it fell from the heavens; Shangri-La this was not, it had congealed into a complete and total ice storm. Usually, storms brought a certain sort of odd comfort to me, though today, not so much; most likely due to the fact I was so far from my home; as if cued perfectly on time the song ‘Can’t find my way home’ played in my ears. I choked on my snarky laugh as I trudged to my next expected gate, lamenting the fact that I felt nine hundred and ninety years old today. No matter what direction I looked I saw that long dark sky had the look of hard wet sleeting ice in the nearness of the future. I wish I was home with a tall cuppa joe and a nice big book on my lap, with some good soft music cuddling me under a heavy blanket. Turning the corner that I wish could have been to my kitchen with its pretty little red potholders. I stop short, before me sat the largest conglomeration of unhappy people I ever remember encountering, all of them choosing seats at or near the ticket agents booth; the far wall and its bank of windows showing a clear view of a very Poe dark and dreary as well as the show inside, was beautifully vacant. I walk amongst the revelers, noticing the complete discontent on every face I passed.

Oh, the universe had such a sense of humour, didn’t it? I shake my head, suddenly I felt I needed a drink; nah, maybe I just needed a lot of life insurance; god, I knew I needed a vacation; or maybe I needed a home in the country; or more than likely a full once over by a qualified psychiatrist; though mostly I needed to figure out where this Phillip Marlow-esque monologue was coming from, but on second thought that drink sounded lovely. I snickered to myself, the morning I was leaving Mom and I sat at the kitchen table, enjoying our morning coffee, or so I had thought; as with all morning rituals there was a vast amount of time allotted for silent contemplation staring into that vast unknown.

“What’s wrong?” Mom had asked, worry evident on her face.

Taken aback, I snickered, possibly the coldest most patronizing snicker I had ever snickered; as if the woes of the world and the things that weighed on my mind could be delineated down to utterable words, instead of answering I shrugged, “nothing really, why?” I tried to sound light and unbothered.

Mom huffed, “I don’t know, you look like something is bothering you,” she took a huffing breath, “actually you look like you are seriously contemplating smoking or becoming an alcoholic.”

Damn, she just dropped that in my lap, I laughed a real laugh, “It’s not that it hasn’t crossed my mind,” I took a drag, “To tell you, yes, of late I have partaken of much more libation than I ever have before, but you know exactly how limp my lungs are, too limp for smoking and I don’t quite have the intestinal fortitude to become a full-fledged alcoholic, I think you actually need a stomach to tie a good one on. So, no worries mom, it is just the world today and the way it’s working that just bugs the hell out of me.” Good god, am I that easy to read? Good times, right? “I am just tired of the feeling of a nine thousand gorilla standing on my neck.”

She reached over patting my hand… Ah, mom she always had the ability to knock me sideways, but then make it all ok. I pulled my fakieciggy out, (an e-cigarette that had long since been empty of all nicotine, but still had the light flavour of vanilla; hell, it lights up; the motion alone was as satisfying in form and function. Taking the time to sigh, reset my Qi, was enough, really, just an idiosyncratic mnemonic device.) put it to my lips and took a long drag; “Freaking bat country.” I mumbled under my breath, batting at the invisible bats, wishing to hell I had my flask, but there was no way I was going to try to take that through TSA, hell they were already way too frisky for my tastes. Really, I am a two-date minimum to get to second base kind of girl; who the hell was I kidding, my threshold was much wider for the whole idea of bases, I really was tempted to yell, RAPE! So, I had to make due with what I had. What I had was a coat, a hat, and a gun; oh, god I wish; what I really had was a headache, my huge black messenger bag, my oversized dark purple purse that served as a computer bag, my WWI aviator cap, a Pea coat and my knee-length waterproof leather boots. I saw a seat near the window, with a perfect reflection of the passersby, so, I pulled my sweater sleeves up over my elbow and went out to stake my claim, sadly sober as a judge.

Taking a people watching post, sitting in the fourth seat in, perching on the edge of the chair, I push my messenger bag and purse under my chair, lay my coat across my lap, leaning my shoulder into the back of the chair, I watch. I watched the rapacious soul eating mob move and ebb and flow as they would. Rock Hudson and Doris Day style husbands and wives in deep serious whispered fights, staring daggers at each other; a Calvin and Hobbes, pair of college students mumbling amongst themselves whether or not they had asked anyone to feed their bong water fish, which I highly doubted that the fish was ever alive; Mothers with children looking like the perfect advertisement for birth control, faces bleak, eyes sallow, looking at the world with a ‘someone kill me now’ appeal, my heart ached for them. Then like a ray of light a tiny toddling head went past, not screaming, not crying, he toddled on, chasing a large red and white ball. His tresses shorn close on the sides, the middle left long, his tiny Native American feet trotting to a mix of a babies walk and a fancy dance in his borrowed handmade mucklucks, like a Sherman Alexie character brought to life; he chased that ball, hunkering in the fashion that only a beautiful child can, accidentally nudging the ball, chasing and hunkering again. His simple, beautiful, innocence was unmistakable, I wish I could capture that image to hold on to forever, but like anything and everything miraculous, possibly once in a life time, it could only be seen, witnessed, never captured for reproduction, no picture can be taken, no beckoning for others to see. I watched him play, until mom noticed how far he had traveled, she motioned for him to come back, with a shriek of a laugh he finally captured the ball, it balanced awkward in his tiny hands as he scampered back to mom, I reveled in his beauty for as long as I could.

A shadow passed, a series of people walked into my vision, I watched a very rich woman, head to toe designer gear; from diamonds to Manolo’s, the cheapest thing on her could have been the down payment on a home, basically Marie Antionette circa 2017. I don’t know why, but I liked her, she was blonde; in fact, she was a blonde, to make a bishop kick a hole in a stained-glass window, you know the type, beautiful, petite with a touch of sad, the kind you know any of fifty men would commit a felony for, start a war for, but she was not the kind that could eat people alive, her money was new and she wore it like a crown. Sadly, there she was trying almost desperately to gain the attention of her Louis XIV, his must be very new money, there is a comfort that comes from old money that he utterly lacks, with old money there is nothing really to prove; this man wore his wealth, including his wife, as if it were a status symbol requirement, his BMW keyring dangling from his Burberry coat pocket, his hands soft, totally without callouses, nails perfectly manicured, his hair coiffed with gallons of product; by all counts he was a useless man. Despite Marie’s attempts for his attention, it was focused like a laser on his newest game, he chased a bedazzlingly big busted, slim-fit skirt, again you know the type all tits and flash. I saw Drusilla, Louis’s game, meet his chase; she was also blonde, not nearly as pretty; she reeked of five thousand an ounce perfume, cheap sex in a motel room, and cigarettes, it all came along with a none too subtle ‘I would suck your dick just to kill time’ look about her, but her attitude left way too much to be desired. She must have felt my eyes watching them, she gave me a look which ought to have stuck at least four inches out of my back. I watched the movements of these people, friends worse than enemies; lovers as adversaries; families at war and at peace; and lonesome strangers all lost in this Dante’s inferno morass, helpless, stuck, stranded. In this place, full of people there was only about a handful of humans. Poor Marie, she doesn’t know that down mean streets, on these streets a person must travel; a human who is not themselves mean, but can be; who must be neither tarnished nor afraid; they must be the hero in this story. She must have been looking for a man whose lips tasted of faerie tales, and mistook the frog for the prince. Oh, but she is a peach, there may yet be hope for her, they walked on. Then as ships pass in the distance my eyes moved from them to another.

This other; this long, tall, dark cloud drifted past stealing my vision; he was head and shoulders taller than Louis; he walked to the agent desk, handing the agent his ticket, there was something about him that usurped every atom of air around me. His dark licorice coloured, supple leather jacket hugged him tightly, dark wash jeans detailed the rest, tight enough to highlight the merchandise, but loose enough to leave bits and pieces for the imagination; Goddamn, taking in the entirety of his goliath frame was breathtaking, my god, he was lovely. The desk agent said something and motioned for him to find a seat; he spun deliciously on his heel, with ceremonious attitude reserved for royalty; he walked away, sliding his sunglasses down to rest on his nose. He moved like water, luscious, cool, delicious water flowing over smooth stones; I literally leaned foreword and watched that walk, it was magnificent. God, he was about as inconspicuous as a tarantula on a slice of angel food cake; no reverse that he was the angel wings on devil’s food; he was like a prowling lone wolf looking… for what? I am not sure, but the way he moved over the crowd, not through it, it was almost enrapturing. I mean, look at me, I was amongst these adders, trying to make my presence small, wanting literally to disappear, but I felt their lies and hate sticking to me like hot molasses, but him, he, seemed to be coated with a repellent, a Teflon, not a thing stuck to him.

He was as honest as you can expect a man to be in this world where it was going fast out of style. Not only did he move above them and through them without a spot of tarnish, he walked with that sultry panache. He was a complete man, very complete, my eyes slid to the lightly bagging rear pockets; they showed enough definition, but not the detail; good god I can’t believe my mind went there; he was a common man, although, there was not a thing common about him, he was as unusual a man as could ever be found. He, to use a rather weathered phrase, an unutterable phrase, was a man of honor. Possibly, by a natural instinct, look at those shoulders he could support the world; maybe by inevitability, by the sheer thought that someone had to be so he was more than happy to pick up the mantle, without thought of it, and certainly without ever saying it; or maybe he wasn’t, I was none too sure about my instincts these days. Oh, but the delicious stride of his foot sure and while in his gaze no man faltered, even Louis straightened his head when this wolf was on prowl. He seemed a man whose story was a manly adventure in search of a hidden truth, oh and goddam by the looks of him he was fit for adventure; oh, to be part of that adventure. Christ, my mind and oddly enough my body reacted to the idea of what kinds of adventure he would be up for. It would be no adventure if it did not happen to a man fit for adventure, and I have had enough of those not fit for adventure. If there were enough like him, the world would be a very safe place to live in, without becoming too dull to be worth living in… he was the best man in his world and a good enough man for any world; he would be something of a marvel in every world. No, no, he probably wasn’t, look at me running wild with a though; he was probably just a man who dressed a part, stuck in an airport, with a walk… I let him slowly move from my sight, he was already driving me to distraction.

I look out on the desolate grey landscape, the ice creeping up the window panes; maybe it was Marie, maybe it was that godly walk, maybe I was in mourning for the loss of his visage or just the self-destructive nature of the human condition, but it was something that not even those chubby little hands clutching at that giant rubble ball could chase away; I don’t know what or why, and frankly I don’t really care, it just was; I suddenly feel ages, years heaping onto my shoulders. To lean heavily of Dickens, it was the best of times, it was the worst of times, mostly it was just times; really it always does seem like we are on the edge of evolutions end; though always like on the TV shows the countdown stops at 1, although this time is feels to be on negative numbers. I remember not too long ago, it seemed we were in an age of wisdom of invention and growth; now it is an age of foolishness, it is the epoch of disbelief, it is the epoch of incredulity; I miss the season of Light, for this is a damn season of Darkness, from which it seems there will never again be a spring, no hope, it is a winter of discontent, of despair. I remember the last day when we still had everything before us, though now in retrospect we really had nothing before us, we thought we were all going directly to heaven or maybe we were already there, we are all actually in a freefall directly the other way. I look at my world and succumb to the dark, dreary letting the weary days soak my soul. The world floods my brain, once upon a time not actually all that long ago.

Oh, it was the leanest of times, those times where those I love sat before my eyes and macabrely joke about which of us will be the first we all should eat; obviously my brother as his meat would be soft and sweet and succulent; you know, those jokes that bring a forced laugh, for fear that if we didn’t laugh we would have to run in terror from the reality of these thoughts; in those horror times we were packing, cleaning, locking away the remnants of a fantasy, a dream that we held in our hands while it died a cold and horrible death. An ancient card from the times when we were convinced it couldn’t be worse than that but we knew that if we just hang on one more day… the card fell from our hands and fell open; springing from this card comes the vivacious voice of one Gloria Gaynor; Our hips lost the battle of staying locked, tears began to fall as our lungs let free a laugh that was not at all forced; that was the moment that pedantic break up song from the bygone disco era became our salvation and a battle cry to send Schrodinger back into the shadows. From there light began to shine and there was air to breathe, but again Fate slammed that door. DAMN HER AND HOPE

There no such thing as beauty anymore, all colours fade from vivid to dead gray. It really is an amazing thing when you think you have reached that horrible craggy earthen bottom, Hope, the vicious bitch that she is, shows you exactly how wrong you can be. For a second I reach back in memory to long ago, remembering giggles and birthdays and handmade cakes with half the necessary fixings. I let myself float, a few weeks ago, in that warm pool of possibility, red wines flavour haunting my taste buds. Gods, she showed me a brief glimpse of lovely, of that haven, I actually, almost felt that sun on my face. I still almost feel that smile on my face, doused in tears. Ice cracked in my chest at the memory of that instant my heart had defrosted. I knew better, I fought, I tried to resist, I didn’t believe, but then I wanted to, I needed to, then I did… We drove for hours, maybe it was days, time begins to lose its continuity when the radio is playing great music really loud, sunglasses fitting just perfectly and the speedometer reads 85 mph steady and true. There is something about it that made my heartbeat strong and true. We laughed and sang along, and it was the first time since I can’t really remember when that mom smiled, she laughed, without letting that haunted look come back to her eyes.

We would stop for burgers and laugh about something from eons ago. Then we’d hop right back into the car and drive; my foot getting heavier as we went. I don’t know what we were running from, or maybe running to, or maybe just it was the idea of the freedom that neither of us thought about a damn thing… yeah. All I really knew it was no stop until… it felt right. So, we drove and we drove, miles ticking off the rented odometer; states flying by, for once we weren’t simply standing in one place, trying to make traction on a treadmill, for years we were running at full bore and never getting anywhere, literally, figuratively, however the hell you want to say. Philosophers and scientists like speaking of continuity, but those who are stuck in the spin cycle, too close to the damn agitator, pieces of life, of spirit, of heart, of dreams, of happiness, being mangled, breaking off falling to the ground. Then one day I stopped, I just stopped running; my soul too tired to continue, I stopped. I stopped trying to make everything fine, everyone happy I understood finally that I was on a fool’s errand. I took mom’s hand in mine and she stopped running too, we stooped to pick up the broken scattered pieces, but fate showed us that it was like trying to grab on to Jell-O with your hands and hold tight. So, we let them drop, leaving them to wait for the chalk outline of their tragic death.

The Pacific came into view over the rural cattle covered hills, the radio suddenly silenced. My eyes misted over and I turned on the wipers as the chill October rain drizzled from the heavens. I take that right and head north on HWY 1 knowing where we were going. Childhood memories haunted behind unshed tears, living has taken on a new definition in the dozen years since last, I smelled that organic salty home. I would stop and relive bowls of chowder and giggling splashing icy surf on naked tender feet, but now, it showed in stark relief to what living now meant, those laughing giggles echoing in our hearts. My hand dropped from the gear shift and mom laced her fingers through mine, we took a moment to mourn this breathing cadaver we had become. I pull over and park, it took a hot second before I grabbed my small bag from the back seat, I clamber out, walking around I helped mom from the car. Walking as quickly as tear filled eyes and our beleaguered bodies would allow us, we made our way to the beach; and we sit listening to the surf, dropping my bag off my shoulder and we walk down to an old drift log. I made sure mom was comfortable, stepping out of my sneakers and socks using only my feet I walked to the rushing surf. I stooped pulling my pant legs up as the waves began licking at my toes. The oceans icy tongue sliding softly over my skin. I wanted to keep walking, walking till It was over my head, but I stood still when the waves kissed up my legs to behind my knees. I breathe letting my eyes roll closed, the wind ran its fingers through my hair as it kissed my face. Mom is suddenly there, holding my hand, both of us knee deep in the surf, we giggle and smile at each other as if we were children with a secret, oh and that secret…

I turn from the wind’s loving kisses, mom’s hand snaking into mine; we stood LIVING, for these seconds we lived; we walk hand in hand back to that driftwood stump, mom sits, I pull out the bottle of red wine from my bag, pulled the cork and took a long drink. Passing the bottle to mom; I noticed that those unshed tears were no longer abiding behind their dam. I don’t know when they had started sliding down my face, but I look a damn state now. Mom passes the bottle back and I take a long drink, looking up at that dark gray cloudy sky. I know it should have looked sad, foreboding even dower, but to me, it looked like a hug from an old friend. The crash roared so loud I couldn’t hear my own breath. It was perfect, the screaming person who has been occupying my mind suddenly shut up and I could breathe.

At its most benevolent this life has, one sweet single unattended moment, set aside for each of us. One single moment in and out of time. We took this moment, this little heaven inside this Dante’s nightmare we have called living, we take our little moment out of time and we take a shelter in it. Stealing away from all the shocks are horrors that this too long, far, far, too long life is heir to. This definition of living and its toll that it has taken on our souls. Our distraction fit, and I watch as we both take a deep breath and bury our toes in the cool sand like an oyster taking shelter. We close our eyes, breathe deep, we became high on this freedom, away we float. Beauty like lost dust moat in a shaft of sunlight, wild thyme unseen, or the winter lightning in the snow, or the waterfall, or music heard so deeply so intense that it is not heard at all, that fabulous unsound, but while that glorious music lasts.

Oh, and while it lasts.

One by one I watched those sorrows, the angst and pain the uncertainty melt from our shoulders, the time to hesitate is through, and sometimes the best fight is not fighting at all. I look to mom and pass the bottle, and we speak in silent words, we always knew that the possibility of an impossible fight would come, though yet I would glove up and take my hits, but it would be a heartless battle; all of my hits soulless. There is a freedom in acceptance; as a song says, freedom is just another word for nothing left to lose; the knowledge that losing a bout isn’t everything, but we both knew we were going to lose this one would take everything from both of us. There was a release; we both felt it, we collapsed into it, death would come and we would fall into his arms. Her eyes lead me, in their depths in a moment of ecstatic joy, with no expectations, not from THIS ONE MOMENT. A beautiful, simple moment of being.

No wants, no needs no worries. God, mom had always made broken look beautiful, strong look invincible; She walked with the gorgeous universe on her shoulders. When she shrugged that heaped heaven gracefully, making that pain and strife look like wings. In this moment of communion between us. That toll was gone, peace found us as we held hands like always. mother and daughter and we wanted nothing more than this peace. We took it, we loved it. Yes, we both knew this was just our moment and the treatments and pain would return and lost, lonely, broken, we would have to drive back home… eventually. Though, in that long stretched moment, we were infinite… Mom corked the bottle and we walked carefully back to the car, we got in again and I drove for more and more hours finally finding a beautiful hidden paradise amongst the redwood trees.

The bed, it was comfortable, lovely and clean, luxurious and the room had an eighth story window seat that still didn’t look down on those trees. We sat in the early morning feeling the air, smelling of earthy redwoods, kiss our skin and our lips with warm, delicious, coffee. The water from the tap tasted sweet and fresh, like a childhood memory poured from a second or even third-hand crystal pitcher. Late morning, the bathtub was large and deep. This was a paradise, this heaven was perfect, as if god understood that I had just acquiesced to his summons and decided to send me an extended heaven, or possibly on that curving mountain road I had missed a turn and we had both passed those pearly gates… In this paradise, there was a grand restaurant that required reservations. We ordered three rounds of drinks called the golden eagle, that tasted like buttered sunshine with a citrus hint and a float of Chambord. I ordered the lobster and she the steak, sharing the asparagus and potatoes…everything was perfect. We laughed and walked the long way around and danced and smiled at the smell of the beautiful trees. We walked among the ancients and there is something to be said for being less than drunk, more than lucid and still infinite among the kings of the Earth.

A tiny pearl of a treasure I tuck into that little box lined with black velvet that I keep all my most precious things of beautiful in. Stupidly I believed, stupidly I let the want the will pull my hand out… Ages told me that it was a mistake, that hope would be the thing that kills me, but I let my hand reach out, I almost touched it, but then there was nothing; now I lay bleeding out. Nothing, but air that my fingers slid through and I fell, I fell a million miles. One shining second in horror years, I trusted that idea of hope, the bitch, and now one eon wiser I woke this morning my eyes rioting at the idea of waking to this world, my brain screaming its recalcitrance at the idea of still dragging air into my lungs and begrudging the world for letting the sun to continue shining. I will never again trust to hope, I can never lift my eyes from the motion of my feet in this broken trudge, all marching to that horrible monotone beat because the living will never come to any good.

A buzzing distracts my mind from this drudgery and I look at my stupid phone. A text from my momma: “Happy Birthday Angel, text me when you are on your way or if you will be on your way. I hope you are wearing your smile and your lipstick, you never know who will fall in love with you today.” An ironic chuckle escaped my throat and a wry smile pulled the corners of my lips. In 37 years, no one had ever fallen in love with my damn lipstick or smile for that matter, I doubted today was any different today from any other day. Although, yes, I had put on my lipstick before departing for the airport today… dumb ass. Suddenly, the landscape was replaced by the rushing crowds passing behind me, superimposed, reflected on the glass in vivid colour. Oh, and the din of the people began to enter and drive away my own private hell; I let the relief wash over me. There was an odd surety to the idea that life goes on, it goes on whether or not one would wants it to; I started watching the people, along with the storm raging outside the windows, but the activity made my mind move from that cold place. I felt like an idiot to let myself bask in that much self-pity.

A gust of air hit me as someone sits a few seats down, I rolled my eyes, but I didn’t take the time to look, I would be leaving this section soon anyways, as soon as they tell us all that there will be no motion. It is the real human smiles in trouble, gathers strength from distress, grows brave by reflection. My brain reeled, shook from my own morass by a simple stupid misquote. Jesus, apparently, this birthday is getting to me; I know so many try to convince that it is not the aging that bothers them, but for me it is truth; oh, the passing of time, when I start counting is like a pall on my soul, but to just despise it would be terribly ungrateful, to hate adding to the tally of years lived when one is already well and past expectations. I don’t care what number of years I have lived, I really don’t mind the few hairs on my head that have transitioned from this dullard nondescript brown to a tinsel silver, the crinkles next to my eyes are every one of my laughs counted out for me. I do mind, however, is that so much time keeps passing, days mark themselves in memory and unwanted thoughts surface, I mind marking how much I haven’t done. I do mind is that not once has this journey been anything other than an upward climb, fingers gripping, bleeding, over the roughest terrain. I decided, enough pain… I was never one to just revel in misery, I am not the kind of woman who breaks into pieces under the blows of abandonment and absence, I am not the one who goes mad, who dies; though I know I will, possibly quite soon. Unlike Marie, I know I am the hero of this story, it is my responsibility to make it good. Surveying myself I saw that the few fragments that had splintered off were pieces that always are supposed to be sloughed due to living and learning. For the rest, I was… well, I was, just me. I was whole, whole I would remain. Thusly being stuck in an airport for a birthday is just one of those things that just happen, and yes, mostly to me.

Their reflections, with the gales of wind blowing ice and snow pelting the large bank of windows. Ah, its time to face the truth, nothing will be flying in this mess; hell, the smart people stayed home and didn’t even bother. I sigh, I never could have been accused of being one of the smart people, I watch the strangers pass behind me, all of them seemingly stressed and kinetic, like little white rats in a closed maze; frantic to get to where they were going, none willing to admit that no one was going anywhere anytime soon. I scanned all he miserable faces, yes, we are all in a way trapped, foreword motion was impossible, but always there is someone who seems to take it so much worse than everyone else, making that small claustrophobic feeling a teensy bit worse. Most just accept that, yes, in this world not much seems to go the way we all plan, there is always that one total jerk who thinks that god and all that’s holy and unholy alike should bow to his will. With that thought my mind decided to switch to the politics network; I literally shuddered, became nauseous and pulled it back front and center.

This jerk yelled and bellowed as I watched apparently, the Scandinavian Bruce Willis had decided that handing a helpless gate agent her own head on a platter was the best use of his time. He was demanding everything under the sun. From the loud whining and bluster, I gathered that he was supposed to be traveling to Maui, but he wasn’t going to be there in time and would lose the large deposit he placed on his room, most likely a common hazard for travel like that. As if that was anything the gate agent could do anything about, it was really his own stupid gullibility. Yes, I would much rather be in Maui too, in fact I think the ticket agent wishes she was in Maui with a Chi-Chi in hand, but its not where we are, nor where I was traveling to. Finally, the mans blustering hit a fevered pitch, his face turned purple, I thought he was about to stroke out, but his wife finally stepped in. I had already lost interest in the whole show about half a tirade ago, he was an overgrown child with the stupid notion that the world owed him something.

I shake my head softly and roll my eyes, a soft, rolling, deep chuckle moves through my ears, and movement catches my eye. I let my eyes be pulled expecting to see disapproval in the reflected face. I all saw was a man; my breath shuddered, not just a man, but that man, the wolf with the godly walk, that gust of air was him sitting, that man. Well, honestly simply man is an insufficient term, but one I would use for the long-legged monolith a few chairs to my right. He seemed to be elsewhere, with more than a single dose of “I don’t give a shit” attitude, all I could see was crossed arms and Ray Bans, so I let my eyes peruse. He was long, tall, his legs stretched out in front of him, crossed at the ankles, those legs alone reached at least 5 foot from the edge of the chair. He was thick; legs like tree trunks, but his shoulders alone took the space of two seats. I pitied the person who was seated next to him, hopefully, he wasn’t the middle seat, talk about crowding. He wore a thin, white tee shirt, dark washed jeans. I let the smile pull the edge of my lips, apparently, he didn’t look at the weather before heading out today, poor fool. He sat trying to tuck his thick licorice coloured leather around himself tighter.

His opaque dark Ray-bans hid most of his face, ear buds tucked into his ears. His thick brows curved gracefully over the rims, his lips beautifully arched with a light pout to his bottom lip, a set of the most beautifully kissable lips to possibly exist. A day’s growth of scruff along his gorgeously chiseled jaw, god he was a beautiful man. He couldn’t have been reacting to my derision, maybe he was chuckling at something on his earbuds. So, I swallowed my ruffled feathers and I just enjoyed the view of the reflection. His dark brown hair, blonde and ginger highlights deliciously sparkled, in what was once a deliciously close cut style, now grown out two months too long; the length silky enough to run soft fingers through, letting the long ends curl around fingertips.

I settle back, catching little glimpses, filing his form away for something fun in one of my writing exercises, I watched the ice creep along the glass of the window and the passing of the people while listening to my own ear buds, hitting repeat on some riotous punk. Social Distortion peps me up, I feel the beautiful sweeping warmth of eyes on me, I look up all I can see is the dyspeptic travelers and the airline ticket agents looking as if people had taken bats to them, circulating handing out food and hotel vouchers to make up for the surprise ice storm. Curiosity draws my eyes back to his mostly obscured face, I wonder what colour his eyes are; statistically, they were most likely brown, but something told me they were some beautiful exotic colour. Seriously, look at the man, he is something made of myth and mists, he could never actually be real, like a unicorn or the truth. As with everything, the gods compensate, a man that graceful, that beautiful, with that luscious of a walk, there really must be something maybe just some single thing wrong with him, somewhere. Maybe he has a temper or maybe he is just stupid. A loud cacophony of uproarious yelling, uh oh, the natives are getting restless.

God, how the hell do they expect airlines to circumvent nature and still get them to their destination safely, you know they would be the first filing suit in the case of an accident, and seriously how the hell an ICE storm can be so surprising, but low and behold, here we all are stuck. I tuck my vouchers in my book and keep watching the people reflected in the window, like an interactive ultra-widescreen TV. A Latin woman reminding me heavily of Anne Bancroft goes huffing by consigning herself with a beautiful grace to the fate we all in the airport now share, a night at the on a crummy airport motel mattress and airport food. Again, that warm pass of eyes, perusing the faces, I assume it’s just another people watcher or a passerby. A move in my peripheral vision drew my eye back to him; dammit girl, the cardinal rule of people watching is NO STARING, I chided myself.

@pedeka @writernotwaiting @iamhisgloriouspurpose

@keeper0fthestars @sweetfairy1

@fromthedeskoftheraven @shikin83 @bilbo-baggins-middle-finger

5 notes · View notes

inklingleesquidly · 5 years

Text

YO-FEST

Chapter 5

Lee Squidly gets a special call by the headpriestess of Knifefish Shrine to take part in special preparations for one of the biggest holidays celebrated by Inkopolis’ ghostly neighbors, Yokai. Yo-Fest is only a week away and it’s up to Lee to make sure the fesitivies go off without a hitch.

He’s not alone though; joining him is his pals Guist, Juddinyan, and his many Yokai friends who are just a dial away via his Yokai Smartwatch.

Featuring the characters of @askvincent

Chapter 4 available here

Word Count: 5,438 words

With that beastly yokai having disappeared with Lyra in tow, Lee found himself completely at a loss. Leakina sat on the floor, motionless, staring into nothing while a frightened Guist and Juddinyan still shivering in fear. What were they going to do? What could they hope to do?

“Oh dear, Sister Lyra has been taken from us.”

A quiet, mysterious voice that shook the melancholic boy and the yokai. Lee spun around to find the source; an anemone girl standing in the entrance to the bathhouse. “Sister Kaitlyn?” She was one of Knifefish Shrine’s practicing priestesses.

Her hair tendrils bobbed as she nodded, silently confirming her identity. She brushed them out of her face as she stepped into the hot spring. Her voice was a rather quiet whisper, nearly deafened by the clacking of her wooden sandals on the stone floor. “That oni had such amazing power, and a scary face to match. Sister Lyra was scared for the rest of us but it seems she bit off more than she could chew trying to fight it on her own.” She exposited.

All Lee could think to reply was a stuttering, “Y-yeah,” as he was still dumbfounded by the situation. Suddenly, a realization dawned on him. “Wait a minute, could you actually see that yokai?”

That question raised the interest of the present poltergeists who, including Lee, all knew that the shrine maidens could feel the presence of spirits but not see them. She revealed, “Why yes I can. I don't have as much skill as Lyra but I can see and speak with them just fine.”

“That’s really great and all.” Lee began, knowing as interesting as that new development was there was a bigger problem at hand. “But we've got to figure out what that yokai did with Miss Lyra.”

Kaitlyn replied, “I'm not sure.” Her voice was rather peculiar to him. It was so reserved and monotone, it made him wonder if she felt any kind of emotion over Lyra's kidnapping? “I would think a yokai that powerful could go wherever they want but I'm gonna bet if they'd go anywhere it would be back to the Yokai Realm.”

Only in passing had he heard about the second world belonging to Yokai so Lee replied in bewilderment. “The Yokai Realm?”

Coming off of his fear, Guist chimed in with information. “You never heard of the Yokai Realm, Cus?” He zipped up into the air before Lee, thumbing at his tablet computer. “It’s like, this totally radical wonderland, y’know?” He continued to blather as he struggled to look for something. “It’s a happenin’ place where Yokai are born—and they live and—I never actually been there myself but--.” He groaned sadly, “Aww bummer dude my wireless went out and I was trying to find pictures of it.”

Juddinyan peaked out from between his paws, interrupting them to inform, “The only way to get to the Meowkai Realm is through a portal and I d’yon’t know where any are.”

“Ahh,” Kaitlyn interjected, “That’s a lot simpler than you think it is.”

They watched with earnest as she maneuvered through the bathhouse, stopping where the statue constructed by Lyra’s parents once stood. She moved behind one of the decorative rocks and appeared to pull some kind of lever that made an audible mechanical noise. Their attention then all shifted to the bath water; a bubble rose to the surface before the water began to spiral down into a drain. Eventually all of the spring was completely flushed away.

Why she did that was not clear at first but the steam that remained of the empty hot spring water mysteriously began to gravitate toward a rock formation that lined one of the walls of the bathhouse. Neither Lee nor the poltergeists had paid attention to the shape of the stones before but now they watched as the steam collected together within it. Soon, the vapor took the shape of a round disk, glowing with a mystical, ethereal light right before their eyes.

As captivating as it was to look at, Kaitlyn revealed, “There you go; one genuine portal between our Mortal World and the Yokai Realm.” Her gaze then shifted squarely upon Lee where she made a startling proclamation. “Well, whenever you're ready to save Sister Lyra just hop on through.”

“Wha'?! Buh-be-but-- M-Me?!” Lee returned with a stupefied stutter, questioningly pointing to himself.

Ever the energetic one, Guist spiraled through the air. “Well what are we waiting for? Let's boogey and save the shrine babe!” Hearing that made Juddinyan rise to his feet, and made Leakina clench her fists with a determined sneer on her face.

Before any of them could take another step toward the portal, Kaitlyn raised her hand to halt them. “I'm sorry but it takes a lot for a mortal to cross over; only one of you will be able to accompany him into the Yokai Realm.”

The question Lee should have asked was how did she know all of this? He was certain not even Lyra did but that wasn't what he said. “I-- mmm-- what makes you think I'm the one who can rescue Miss Lyra?”

The priestess exclained, “None of us have the training to fight an oni that powerful.” At first that didn't answer Lee's question since he didn’t have ANY of their training but she continued. “You however have your Yokai Watch so you won't have to face it alone. You'll have one of them.”

She gestured to Guist and Juddinyan, the furrier of the two indicating, “Mew should be the one to go with him.”

Guist replied, “Why do you think I should go. Juddin-dude?”

“N'your Y-pad has an app that can track me-ortals,” Juddinyan said.

“Wait? It does?” The pale squid spirit was baffled to hear that, and was left totally aghast once Juddinyan pawed at the screen of his handheld computer, finding the application in question for him. “Whoa-hoa, mondo cool!” He bellowed with genuine excitement over this discovery. “Check it Cus, I can totally see you!”

Kaitlyn continued. “Not to mention all the friends you have made who are just a dial away. If anyone can save Sister Lyra, it’s going to be you.” Lee hadn’t a word to say in response, he just stood there, prompting the maiden to say, “What's wrong? Are you scared?”

He questioned what gave that away? Was it how he clenched his teeth underneath his quivering lips? Was it how his knees jittered? Or was it how he tried to say something but all that came out in struggling whimpers? He still remained quiet but a rush of thoughts rocketed through his head, making him desperately wonder.

What do they want me to do?

What could he do? There wasn’t a Yokai he knew whom he believed had a chance to stand up against someone that menacing.

I don’t know what to do.

All he ever wanted was to see ghosts with his smartwatch, and here he was faced with yet another life or death situation. This seemed to be a common theme in his life, only this time he was to go to an entirely different dimension. How did this happen? What lead to this? Why did he have to go through this?

Don’t make me do this—there's nothing I can do. THERE’S NOTHING I CAN DO!

In the blinding anxiety of the situation, he suddenly felt a peculiar tingling sensation encompassing around his hands. He came down from the heart racing tension to find Leakina standing before him, tightly clasping his hands in her own.

“Leeker,” she breathed, “I- I can't ask you for anything, I know that after everything I did.” Her voice was hushed as if she struggled to admit that to him. Nonetheless that did not stop her from lifting her head, looking the Inkling straight in the eye, and nearly pleading to him. “Just this once, please Leeker, save my Lyra.”

Save my Lyra. Those words echoed in his head again and again. The look on her face as he stared back at her said even more still. Desperation, helplessness, pleading, fear; she could be read like an open book.

Seeing it spurned something in Lee. His heart rate quickened, he straightened his back, and raised his head to show a furrowed brow and solemn stare. “I'll do it,” he said, standing tall, “I'll get her back.”

That sudden shift in bravado stupefied every occupant in the room until Guist congratulated, “Yah-hah, that’s the way to be, Cus!”

Equally disbelieving, Leakina babbled, “Y-You will?”

“I--I will, I p-promise I will!” There were still traces of uncertainty in Lee's voice but they were masked by an apparent overwhelming resolve.

That fiery energy gave an inspiring hope to Leakina. “Oh Leeker,” she whispered with a lighted smile, holding his hands even tighter than before. “Thank you.”

They had a common goal. For the first time since they met, their minds were in sync; Lee finally felt that he was beginning to understand Leakina and that there was much more to her that he wanted to know. It didn’t dawn on him until much later but she felt the same about him in that moment.

Suddenly, a blinding glow of light began to emit between their hands. Never did he think it would ever happen but once Leakina pulled her hands away, Lee stared in wide eyed disbelief at the treasure that was left in his flat open palms.

It was her Yokai card, the symbol of their friendship. Leakina instructed, “Once you find that guy that took Lyra call me and I'll come help.”

“Me too, meow.” Juddinyan added; showing his readiness by clenching his paws and hopping up and down.

That level of support brought a smile that wouldn’t leave Lee's face. Pocketing Leakina's Yokai card, he stepped toward the portal. “You ready to go, Guist?” He said.

Zipping right to his side, the squid spirit declared, “You know it Cousin! I got your back all the way!”

Just as they were moments from crossing the threshold between worlds, they were stopped by Kaitlyn. “Wait Lee,” she beckoned, her toneless voice as quiet as a whisper. “The Yokai Realm is unlike anything of this earth, you'll see things beyond your imagination that might be overwhelming for you.” The void of energy in her voice made that warning far more menacing than she probably intended.

Looking over his shoulder back at Juddinyan and Leakina, their encouraging smiles helped him retain his courage. “I'll be fine,” he replied.

Kaitlyn had one more thing for him. “Wait. You should know mortals might not be a common sight in the Yokai Realm. Wear this to keep from standing out.” She reached into the wide sleeve of her jacket and produced a dark colored blanket of some sort that she draped over him. He quietly accepted it, also accepting that there was still no clue of what he was getting into but alongside Guist, they made the cross over through the misty door.

His vision became momentarily impaired only to be returned shorter after where he would be greeted by the alien sights of the Yokai Realm. What came as a surprise most of all was finding a city, a metropolis even not so far removed from his home of Inkopolis.

Maybe it was his brain’s desire to associate something he knew with something new? It really did feel like home except for the oblong, seemingly impossible shapes of numerous buildings and structures. How were they able to stand without falling? He didn’t know, nor did he know how to process how some things, seemingly random things seemed to be—dismembered body parts? Eyes, Lips, Hands, Feet and more; they weren’t randomly placed without reason, they seemed to be integrated parts of the environment. Lee pinched his cheek, wondering if this whole thing was really a fabrication of his mind.

He was awake though, more awake now that he took in the colors of everything. From the sky above his head to the ground beneath his feet, everywhere he looked everything was so wild, vibrant, and actually quite garish. He had traveled with his mom to many faraway places but nothing could compare to this; even the smell and taste of the air was unlike anything he had ever experienced.

He stopped contemplating when he realized Guist had left him and was absorbing the surroundings in his own way.

“Guist!” Lee shouted, interrupting a selfie with a pair of Yokai. “What are you doing, we’re supposed to be looking for Miss Lyra.”

The two locals disappeared in a spontaneous puff of smoke, spooked by the strange yelling entity draped in black. This made the squid spirit shake his head and groan. “Don’t have a cow Cus, I already found the shrine babe.”

“What, you have?”

Turning around his tablet, Guist showed the open mortal tracking app which displayed a map with one dot close to the center and another far off in the distance. The Yokai said, “Peep this, the mortal tracker really works. In the meantime, let’s kick it and enjoy our first time here.” Considering the weight of their mission, Lee wasn’t nearly as interested in sightseeing as his companion. He took him by the arm and began walking while the spirit waved his tablet around, cheerfully taking videos and pictures.

They continued along through the topsy-turvy city, directed by Guist's tracker. It was a blessing to have it as the street signs read in seemingly nonsensical gibberish. Soon, they managed to reach what appeared to be a normal office complex—or as normal as a building that wiggled from side to side could be. The two entered with no one paying any mind to them and rode the elevator to the floor the tracker surprisingly managed to point them to.

Upon exiting the lift, Lee vigorously wiped his hand with a tissue paper, mortified by having to touch the buttons made of eyeballs. Guist beckoned, “She's in this door right here, Cus,” indicating one that Lee grimaced at because its handle was an actual hand. Sucking in a breath and averting his eyes, he grasped it, jolting slightly when he felt the handle grip him back. He opened the door to find—a relatively plain looking empty office.

Nothing about it really stood out at all except for a folded card on the desk that shockingly read in perfect Inklish, Back in 5 minutes.

“Hey Cus, she's in here!” Guist waved, indicating a door labeled PRIVATE. That didn’t stop the ready Inkling from steeling his nerve and opening the door; even though his shaky hand spoke volumes of his hesitation. His partner was equally unsure as he reflexively ducked behind his shoulder. The duo stepped into a room much larger than the dimensions the outer office would suggest.

There, at the opposite end they saw him, Goredinator, the yokai who captured Lyra. He sat, reclining in an office chair, his bare feet up on his desk, hands behind his head, and a satisfied smirk spread across his face. That smile quickly vanished when he saw the cloaked Lee and Guist in the open doorway.

“What's the meaning of this?” He then gave a guttural snarl, “MROOO, Scaretary!” He slammed one fist down upon his desk then roughly smashed his finger down on a button. “Get these two out of here, I’m not taking any more appointments for the rest of the day!” They heard his voice scream from an intercom in the outer room.

Not sparing a moment, Guist zipped out from behind Lee's back, hovering up to be eye to eye with Goredinator. Bravely, the small squid spirit demanded, “Where’s the shrine babe? Tell us what you did with her before I totally burn ya!”

Goredinator’s only response was to blow a puff of air out of his nostrils, a move powerful enough to send the little ghost careening through the air out of his face. Lee caught him just in time to hear the bull horned oni laugh. “BRAH HAH HAH, you must be talking about the priestess. She’s right here,” he said, pressing a button on his desk that caused a nearby wall to spin around.

Lee and Guist gasped at finally finding Lyra, who held her hands over her mouth when her eyes locked with theirs. She was thankfully unharmed but trapped in some sort of cage made of tusks.

That fact made the Yokai gloat. “Like they say; if you want something done right you’ve got to do it yourself. Those convicts couldn’t stop Yo-Fest from happening but I could.”

“Wait,” Lee finally spoke, “You’re the one who sent those yokai that attacked the shrine?”

“That’s right.” Goredinator freely admitted. “I underestimated a humble shrine priestess but I should’ve known better since she’s the one initiating this blasted holiday.”

Perplexed, Lee continued to question. “Who are you? What have you got against Yo-Fest?”

Riding off of his joy, the big brute was willing to oblige. “My name is Goredinator and I just hate Yo-Fest! I hate the whole Yo-Fest season!”

“But why dude?” Guist weakly wondered?

“Why?” Goredinator slammed his fist down on his desk at that question. “WHY?” He repeated, bashing his other fist on it again. “WHY?!” He crashed both of his hands through the thick wooden desk, managing to break clean through it with his terrifying strength. His tantrum continued with him spinning around and ripping away a piece of the wall behind him. He snarled and huffed angrily as a mountain of papers toppled out of the open wall. “THIS IS WHY!”

The two intruders stepped back as the flood papers spread all over the floor, neither understanding until Goredinator finally unveiled his plot.

“I approve who goes from the Yokai Realm to the Mortal World and at this time of year requests come in by the truck load. For millennia I’ve had to deal with it and I can’t stand it anymore! I’m going to make sure this holiday is ruined and so no one will want to go the Mortal World.”

Absorbing the whole story, Lee sought clarification because he couldn’t believe what he heard. “Wait, are you serious? You attacked us and kidnapped Miss Lyra just because you don’t want to do paperwork?”

Straight away Goredinator replied with the utmost sincerity. “That's right.”

His snorting, huffing laugh was pure mockery to the mortal creature. In that moment he thought back to being dogpiled by Boss Moley and his Moleymoreys, to being dried out by Dehydreaded, getting scared to death by Paranumbra, and finally Lyra’s kidnapping. All of this trouble, all of this fighting, and all of this turmoil— it made Lee freeze in place.

Whispering over the laughter of their foe, Guist asked, “So uh—how do you plan on talking this guy into not being such a hosehead?”

“We’re not talking,” Lee answered, much to his partner’s surprise. He muttered his explanation. “My mom says you should always try to talk things out—but sometimes some people reach a point that they don’t deserve that. And he’s so far past that point that he’s on the moon.” With that conclusion in mind, Lee took the black cloak that had been concealing him and peeled it off.

This development intrigued the villainous yokai who commented, “Say I remember you, you were there at the shrine.”

From her cage, Lyra interjected with a plea. “Ahh! Pay no attention to him, he’s just a kid, nothing more—he just—he just,” she then realized she couldn’t fathom an explanation as to how he got here.

“Well whatever,” Goredinator said unphased, “What could you hope to do alone?”

“I’m not alone.” Lee informed, standing firm he held up his arm to display his watch to the big bad poltergeist.

In response he snarled, “What in the--? A Yokai Watch?”

He didn’t back down. “That’s right,” he said, instantly taking responsibility for foiling all of Goredinator’s plans that week. “And I’ve got some friends who have a bone to pick with you.” Lee drew all the calling cards he had out of his cargo pocket and slammed them down upon the face of his smartwatch. “Come on out my friends! Calling—everyone!”

“Juddinyan!”

“Meow, it’s go time!” Juddinyan punched one of his paws against his other paw.

“Moley Morey!”

The mole yokai readied his shovel like a polearm. “That’s the shmuck that promised us freedom! And This is what he’s doing?”

“Tropicanna!”

Appearing in a fine mist, the flowery yokai held up her fists. “That priestess helped me and Daddy, let go of her now!”

“Kakkonyan!”

The loving cat yokai was anything but as he sneered, “If Lee thinks you’re a bad guy than you’re a really bad guy! Nyah,” he pulled out his pair of Tentamissile launchers, looking for a fight.

“Wanderzan!”

“Any enemy of muh homey is an enemy o’ mine!” The jellyfish yokai clacked his baseball bat against the floor.

“And Leakina!”

Biting her teeth, the lovestruck yokai practically lead the charge herself. “Now you got nowhere to run, you’re gonna give Lyra back!”

Even Guist joined their ranks; donning a bandana, a bandolier of ink cartridges, and grasping a Splattershot as he did earlier that week. He declared, “Time to rock n’ roll, dudes!”

From her cage, Lyra stood in absolute awe of what she saw; the seven yokai standing alongside Lee. She listened as the youngster pointed a finger, challenging the powerful Oni. He said, “Now give us back Miss Lyra and stop this already!”

As much as he hoped it would be, Goredinator seemed anything but intimidated. He started to breathe heavily, grunting furiously and pumping his shoulders with each exhale. “I will not be denied! Especially not by the likes of you!” He then made Lee and his band jump by grasping the shirt and coat of his suit and ripping it to pieces. Before any of them could process why he did that, a jet-black miasma spontaneously began to surround him. It obscured the malevolent yokai as he emitted a mighty roar that rocked the entire room.

The dark cloud dissipated and, in that moment, Goredinator had transformed right before their eyes. Lee recognized the creature he had become, it was a bull; a giant bull that dwarfed all of them in size. He scrapped one cloven hoof on the ground, huffing through his nose with the same anger as before, and his eyes blazing like fiery embers.

Seeking direction, Guist floated down to near Lee’s shoulder. “Umm-- what do we do Cus?” He asked, his shooter shaking as he clutched it.

Lee looked all around at the members of his entourage who had fallen silent in awe of the unanticipated transformation. The mortal boy was equally speechless and was sure they could feel the sheer might that radiated off the altered Goredinator just as he could. “We can do it,” he answered with a heavy gulp, “There’s eight of us and only one of him!” Driving down his own nervousness, Lee bravely proclaimed, “ATTACK!”

Together, the seven collected yokai and their mortal friend rushed into battle. With them by his side, Lee felt they could take on a yokai as frighteningly mighty as this. We can do this! WE CAN BEAT HIM! He shouted in his head, absolutely sure as sure could be—.

A few moments later

“AHHHHHH! WAHHHHH! AHHHHHH!” A chorus of cries and screams rang throughout the office as the transformed Goredinator decimated Lee and his allies. Leakina, Tropicanna, and even Wanderzan had been trampled into puddles beneath the his hooves. The rest weren’t fairing much better.

After getting impaled on the razor-sharp horns, Guist tried to splutter out a question. “So, umm—this ain’t workin’ out Cus, you got a Plan B?”

“Uhhh.” He hadn’t a clue. “I don’t have one.” The mortal Inkling boy breathed anxiously.

The pale squid seemed to take it okay, in fact he reassured his friend. “Oh, well that’s okay, I mean we’re yokai it’s not as if we can die or something.”

‘N’yes we can!” Juddinyan howled while underneath Gotedinator's hoof, struggling with all his might to hold it ip. “If you die as a meowkai n’you’re just plain dead!” Just as he spoke those words, he was stomped flat.

That revelation caused Guist to start screaming again and soon be joined by the rest of the entourage as it seemed like there was no hope in sight to win this one-sided battle.

“Excuse me Mr. Goredinator?” Unknown to Lee and his friends, the big bad boss’s secretary, Scaretary came waltzing into the arena, studiously scanning a clipboard. “I need you to sign these forms okaying—uhh—ohh.” She looked up, only to be met with the scene of the battle. Goredinator turned to her; with his snarling teeth and burning red eyes he simply let out a huff of air through his nostrils. Seemingly understanding that, Scaretary took a step back. “I didn’t know you were in a meeting,” she reasoned, “I’ll come back later.”

Suddenly she stopped and did a doubletake at one of the room’s occupants. “Wait a minute, is your name Guist?”

“Yeah, that’s me,” the pint-sized spirit answered casually.

Scaretary hovered over right away where she laughed, “Chaha, we have a package for you, Sweetie. We’ve had trouble trying to get a courier to take it to the Mortal World but since you’re here I can just give it to you.”

Despite his predicament of being skewered, Guist smiled gleefully. “That’s the bomb diggity!” He said as he signed a piece of paper she materialized out of black smoke, then accepted a brown cardboard box that she seemed to pull out from behind her back.

Curious, Lee asked, “Urrk what’s that?” He struggled to say over being crushed by Goredinator's horns.

“It's the package I ordered from Yomazon.” Guist replied much to Lee's surprise as he had forgotten he ordered that days ago. He ripped open the packaging. “And it's totally the One Inch Hammer I ordered!” In his tentacles he held a short, colorful looking wooden mallet.

“It's like, magic, it solves any problem that you tap it on!” Guist explained.

Wondering, Lee asked. “How does it—WHOA!” Fed up with their conversing in the middle of his tantrum, Goredinator bucked wildly and tossed him, Guist, Kakkonyan, and the Moleymorey to the side. Before any of them could even collect their wits, Lee blinked through hazy vision to find the beastly boss charging at them. He screeched in terror. “AHHH!!! Use it! Whatever it does just use it!” In this moment of certain death, he put every ounce of his faith in Guist and his perplexing internet purchase.

“You got is Cus!”

Ever willing to oblige, and not knowing any of what he was getting into, Guist rushed head long into the fray. “Gnarly!!!” He gave the mightiest battle cry, smacking the head of the hammer between Goredinator's eyes.

The rushing behemoth stopped in his tracks but it seemed to have no effect other than the hammer collapsing into pieces.

Suddenly, a blinding shaft of light blasted out of Goredinator's brow. Lee and his crew shielded their eyes from the light, even the ones who had been trampled by Goredinator regained their form just so they could block their vision from the intense, mysterious beam. Barely able to see, Lee could make something out through a tiny sliver between his fingers. It appeared to be a figure shrouded in shadow emerging from the light.

Moments later the light faded away and Lee was finally able to see the figure in their entirety. They were—an Inkling? Their ears, their tentacles, and their eyes had that distinctive appearance unique to his species but everything else? Their skin was a powerfully ruddy color that matched the strikingly red mantle they wore. With the gold and silver accents adorning the robe, it looked like something worn by royalty. The royal visage was completed with a strange cube shaped crown, and a rosary of wooden beads securing what appeared to be a golden mirror around their neck?

Before Lee could attempt to exam them more, he heard a collective hiss of gasps from everyone in the room. He snapped to look back at his friends, only to find all of them kneeling on the floor with their foreheads pressed to the ground. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Lyra in her prison had still did the same. Stranger still, Goredinator had reverted back to the oni form he had earlier, and he, along with the ghost lady that brought the package were kneeling as well.

The only one besides the baffled Lee who didn’t fall to the floor was Guist. He greeted the newcomer so casually. “Sup dude, are you the one who's gonna help us?”

In the blink of an eye both Leakina and Juddinyan shot up and grabbed Guist, shoving him down to the floor. “Acck. What the hey-hey dudes?” He cried out.

“What are you thinking?” Leakina barked.

Juddinyan gasped, “Don't you kn'yow who that is?”

The little ghost was clueless. “Am I supposed t'?”

“That's the big wave himself!”

“The top cat!”

“The judge AND jury.”

“The king of all meowkai!”

“Lord Inkma!” They both revealed in unison.

The king of all Yokai? Lee didn’t have time to contemplate this as the imposing monarch finally sounded off. “What is the meaning of this, where am I?” For someone with such a youthful looking visage they had such a thunderous, booming voice.

Goredinator was the first to rise and approach the yokai king. “Your highness! Your emminence!” In stark contrast to the poltergeist who tried to kill them, he suddenly shifted into nervously wringing his hands and mincing about as he hovered around the stoical monarch. “Welcome to our humble office, we grant yokai passage to and from the--”

“What the devil?” Inkma interrupted, bemusement filling him as he focused on Lee. “Is-- is that a mortal?” The youngster pointed to himself questioningly only to then hold up his hands in defense when the monarch practically roared. “THIS IS AN OUTRAGE! WHAT IS A MORTAL DOING IN MY--,” he then caught sight of Lyra and lost his breath. “--Another one?! What is the meaning of this?”

Guist didn’t spare a moment in placing the blame where blame was due. “That cow dude totally kidnapped the shrine babe and took her here so we came to rescue her and he totally tried to 86 us!”

“That’s a lie,” Goredinator defended, “Don’t believe anything this little welp or any of these mortal fraternizers say!”

“I don’t know what a ‘fraternizer’ is.” Guist shook his little white tentacle. “But it’s totally true! I got everything you said on video.” Unbeknownst to Goredinator and even Lee, Guist had captured the big bad yokai’s entire confession on his tablet. Despite vehement protests and threats from Goredinator, he was held back by the will of Lord Inkma who viewed the video in its entirety.

After its completion, the lord of the realm was left absolutely aghast. “There are even criminals running loose in the mortal world? This is absolutely insane, nothing like this has ever happened under the Inkma family reign.” He paced about for a moment before clenching his fist. “It is my decree that all yokai shall be immediately recalled back to the Yokai Realm and all portals to the Mortal World will be closed and sealed until further notice!”

Gasps filled the room and eventhough he was trying to help, Guist’s heart sank. He darted through the air in front of King Inkma and pleaded to him. “Whoa whoa whoa, there’s no need to do that, let’s just chill, dude.”

“SILENCE!” Inkma screeched harshly. “I will make a judgement for the crimes against the realm, but as for these two...” He first pointed his finger to Lee, then aimed at Lyra. A bolt of energy fired from the tip of his finger, blasting away the priestess’s prison and finally freeing her.

“Lyra!” Elated to see her, Leakina soared through the air toward her. Nothing had ever made her fly faster in her entire life or made her so short of joyous, relieved breath.

SNAP

“...You must leave at once.” With a snap of his fingers, both Lee and Lyra vanished in a puff of dark smoke. Leakina was left to slide to a halt, reaching out for the woman she came to rescue who was gone— gone back to her world.

#splatoon #nintendo #yokai #lee squidly #splatoon 2 #inkling oc

5 notes · View notes

godseyegalaxy · 6 years

Text

Candle and the Wax Flame- 2 - The Start

“You’re wish is futile, how hard is that to explain?” The mermaid’s silver tail kicked up water directed towards the pirate standing on the rocks. Then, she added, “Now, stop pestering me. It’s been a week, Icora, take your crew and leave this island behind.”

The pirate, Icora, took off her hat and shook off the water droplets. The thin smile on her face never leaving. Cere pushed her tail through the water again and thought about leaving the pirate alone in the outlet, she probably would have, if the bitch wasn’t dangling her sister’s necklace just out of arms reach. With any other bastard she would have killed them and taken back what was hers, but Icora was a benefactor, and Cere had no intension of losing an asset.

Shards of red and green light bounced brightly off the neckless as it dangles casually midair. The lights flashed in her eyes and painfully reminded the mermaid how trapped she really was. Cere watched the neckless sink as the bastard woman knelt to her level.

“Come now, Cere, ‘Futile’ is a harsh word-”

“Because you don’t know what it means?”

Icora paused mid-sentence, then started to laugh. She had a whole-hearted laugh, one of a seasoned mother or a well traversed clerk, not one typical for a pirate. Cere always hated the sound.

“No, no, my friend, oh my... Simply because I know it’s not futile. With your help and my crew, I’m sure we can find the remains of the city.”

Cere scowled, with her narrow face, it took up the majority of space. Icora always found it cute. With Cere’s big pitch-black eyes and boney features, Icora always thought the mermaid was cute. As cute as an ugly fish from the sea can be.

“What makes you think there is anything left of Manora? Huh?”

“Oh, there is always something left.” She stood, taking the accessory with her. “If not proper things, say pieces of artwork, tools, and of course, metals… then ideas, traditions, and more.”

Cere snorted. “Since when do you deal in ideas? It’s always been about trinkets and gold with you.”

“Cus it seemed to be the only thing that kept you interested.” Icora gestured to all the gold and copper decorating the mermaid’s body. That is to say, she gestured to all of the mermaid, right down to the tail. Bangles, piercings, hair beads, rings and everything in between covered the creature, at it all was gifts from the buccaneer. Payments for previous jobs. “Life on land isn’t a concern for you, but for many of my crew, it is.” She continued. “Life on the islands is getting more difficult, and what would happen to my business if everyone on land moved or died?”

Icora rarely spoke about the troubles on the lands with Cere – as she said, why would the mermaid care?— however, when she did, the pained look in her eyes were bluntly apparent. Either she did care about the islands, or that was her puppy dog face. Still, it was off putting, just enough for her guard to be let down.

The land dwellers were not the only ones being affected poorly, but not many land dwellers cared about the happenings under the waves outside the fishing industry. Eventually, the sea folk would have to leave the water surrounding the islands. But, that would be long after the humans, elves and whatnot left. Still, if the fearless Icora was worried, maybe there was something to the whole thing.

Shit.

Cere met Icora’s eyes to see that ugly smile spread across her face; the smile of someone who know they had won. The same smile she had seen as she captained her ship out of a harsh take over or a storm, the kind where the wind would pick up and the sun would shine in beams across the sky.

Cere snarled at the woman. “I’ll meet you at your god damn fucking ugly ass ship.”

Icora laughed, full like the moon, or the vary waves that crashed on the rocks. “I should have never let my crew teach you curse words.”

“And you shouldn’t have fucking tracked me to a god damn random island, but here we are, Icora.” The mermaid brushed the sides of her shaved head and gathered up her hair before diving back into the turquois blue water.

A wave of warm salty water came crashing down on the pirate captain, successfully soaking her. She wiped her face and brushed back her wild hair, turning around just in time to see Maritime break through the foliage shielding the lagoon from the rest of the island.

“Martie, just in time, what is it?”

“Just looking for the captain, have you seen her?” She cocked her head to the side, “About this tall, old as shit, likes to wander off and leave the crew to her ship alone on a random island to find a mermaid with just a ‘gut feeling’ to guide her?”

“Alright, Alright, Maritime.” Icora jumped to the shore, ignoring the helping hand from her apprentice. “But you’ll be happy to know that I found our guide.”

“Really?” the girl started to follow her captain back through the trees. “How’d ya convince her to help us?”

Icora had already put the neckless in her cloth belt before Cere left. “You know me, I have a way with words.”

Martie snorted and rolled her eyes. She had been recruited, or adopted as the crew put it, as Icora’s first and only apprentice when she tried to pickpocket her in the market place. She was maybe ten at the time, but, with no memories of her name, parents or her home island, that didn’t stop the captain from extending her hand. Nothing, she learned, stopped the captain.

In the six years Martie has spent with the crew, she had learned an infinite amount of skills and tricks, not only to be a successful pirate, but also a business person, crafter, and navigator, but still she knew next to nothing about the woman who adopted her. She wasn’t cruel, wasn’t liked by those on the outside, but wasn’t hated either. She told impossible stories that happened years in the past like they were resent happenings, she spoke of gods as friends, monsters as things that really existed. Something, Martie knew, was off about her dear captain, after all it was obvious, yet that didn’t deter the crew from loyalty. They loved her just as much as Icora cared for them. Any secrets didn’t seem to matter.

“If you say so, cap’t.” Martie shrugged. “The ships next to the beach. Brinkley went around the island like you ordered, but there’s a sand bar on this side, so we couldn’t get that close.”

Icora nodded and continued to push through island flora. “I’m glad that at least one of my subordinates can follow directions.” She said slyly, glancing behind her.

Martie groaned. “Ok fine, I got bored just waiting. I wanted to see Cere too.”

Martie and Cere had grown to be what someone might call friends. Pair a child’s persistence and open mind with a creature of superior intellect but little skill in land language and there was bound to be some sort of connection. Icora enjoyed their partnership, as before it was only she that Cere would deal with, but now Cere acknowledged the other members of the crew and even worked with some of them. It benefited everyone involved, just considering the knowledge transferred.

“And what if you gave her an excuse to disappear huh?” Even though the captain was still smiling, Martie knew that she was legitimately annoyed with her.

“My apologies, Captian. I wasn’t thinking.” She frowned; she hatted apologizing, but knew when it was necessary.

That was another fun thing about their friendship; they had some of the same mannerisms.

“I’m not angry.” That much was true, “But I will have you clean all the buckets before we pull of, yeah?”

They broke through the forests into a plain of tall yellow grass and crooked palm trees. The ship could be seen a few leagues off of the shore.

“Yes, ma’am.” Martie pulled ahead and walked to the rowboat she tied to a palm close to the beach.

Icora took her time, gathering the odd coconut and flower, before settling down beside Martie and picking up an oar.

Neither of them spoke on the way back to the boat. They breathed in tandem and rhythmically rowed through the midday waves. The water grew from glacier blue to black, then back to light blue as they passed over the sand bar. Sweet beaded and dripped down their faces and backs, for a few seconds Icora thought about pealing of her leather jacket, but when she looked back to check how far the ship was, she found it looming over her. The shadow passed over the tiny boat, granting cool refuge.

Two crew men looked over the edge of the ship and down at them, they waved and Icora waved back.

“Welcome back captain!” Bo, one of the men, shouted down.

“Not back yet! Throw down the ropes!” Icora shouted back.

The men disappeared. Martie, who had grabbed the other oar, steered so the boat was almost flush to the barnacle crusted hull and underneath the apparatus. Immediately, ropes came down inches from landing inside and on top of the awaiting two.

With practiced ease, Icora tied the boat up and soon after they were being lifted out of the water and up towards the deck.

When she was finally able to see over the railing, she was met with her first mate, Brinkley. He smiled warmly and nodded. Brinkley has a colorful history as a first mate with other ships— interesting enough to catch Icora’s attention—however what really peaked her interest was the fact that all the ships under his proctor would vanish within a year or two. Crew, except for him, included. Many high-end navies lost proud vessels both as victim and while in search of the culprit. What was funny, is that Brinkley never changed his name, so it was a very easy trail to track. But of course, came the mystery of why and how? After all he was just one man.

Icora was prepared to fight him to prove that she was the captain he was looking for, however, according to legend, the moment Brinkley laid eyes on the young captain Icora, he bowed and proclaimed loyalty right then and there. Neither of them ever denied the story, but they never confirmed it either. Either way the results are the same, Icora and Brinkley have been partners in crime for years now, never been caught, and never without something to do.

Most of the crew agreed; they were as perfect as a captain and a first mate could be.

“Welcome home, Captain Icora.” He extended his hand. “I hope your vacation was well worth it.”

Icora hopped down onto her beloved deck and scanned Brinkley. From the black braids in his hair down to his ink boots, he was soaking wet. His dark skin glistened in the sunlight, he was obviously exhausted, but his demeanor did everything it could to hid it. Icora laughed.

“It seems you already know the answer to that, Brinkley. Tell me, did she climb up and over or did she request a net.” She reached back to assist Martie.

“A net, this time, captain. She was furious that you weren’t already on board, and frankly, Icora, I am too. You know she doesn’t like me very much, and, it's not in my nature to carry sopping wet, naked women around. Tail or no tail.” He turned his attention to the young apprentice. “And you, young lady, I hope you know you will be cleaning –“

“All the buckets before we leave.” Maritime finished his sentence while rolling her eyes. “Icora already told me so buzz off.” She stuck her tongue out before leaving to go below deck.

Brinkley’s brooding was interrupted by a strong hand landing on his shoulder, he leaned into Icora’s firm frame.

“You and I think too much alike, eh?” She smiled.

“Ey, much too alike. I don’t know what I’m going to do with her.” His eyebrows furrowed. As long as Martie has been aboard, Brinkley has tried to somewhat a role model. Icora always joked that it was the proper gentleman coming out of him, and that he wasn’t the father that Martie was looking for. He always denied his role, but it was painfully obvious that he wanted her to like him. At least a little bit.

“Oh? I’ll tell you what you’re going to do, you’re going to do the same thing that you have been doing for the past six years. Go down to her with some treats, hoping to talk to her, and getting the door slammed in your face.” She jostled him. “Now, before you do that, where has my catch of the day flopped off to?”

Brinkley signed. “Cere’s where she always is when she waits for you, in your office with a bottle of wine and a dagger by her side.”

The captain laughed, making the nearby crew members smile. “I guess I should give her some company then?”

“Probably, yes. Before she tears up what is left of your couch.” He looked around for a moment. “Are your orders to stay here until we know where we are going?”

“Yup. And to give Maritime the opportunity to clean.” She left Brinkley towards the bridge.

A knife flew through the air and dug itself a few inches into the side of the door. Icora sighed, as it was both a few inches from her face, and the seventh notch in her door. She opened the door all the way, confident that Brinkley said ‘dagger’ and not ‘daggers.’ The mermaid lounged across her couch, tail lifelessly handing over the edge, almost blocking the door. A bottle of wine in one hand, while her other hand now free from the knife, fanned herself.

“You know how much I despise this room; its hot, its humid, and it smells like sex and booze. How dare you make me wait.”

“I’ll have you know that I have never had sex in here thank you very much.” She slipped off her jacket and set it on her chair on the opposite side of the room. Every time Cere was brought in here, she complained about something new. It was actually beginning to be a game. The heat and humidity were always on the high up, to remind Icora that she was dealing with a creature of the frozen deep, but the sex smell was a new one.

“I never said it was your sex. Gross.” She tugged at a clump of still dripping hair and pulled it over her body. right now, her long black hair was the only thing keeping her cool. Icora didn’t think that was the intention of mermaids having long hair, but it was a feature.

Icora ignored her guest’s comment and went through the stacks of miscellaneous things on her shelves. Mostly mapping equipment, keys, photographs, but also special items that she kept just for Cere’s visits. And by special; a fan, piece of patterned cloth, two cups and a canteen with the ocean’s water.

She wasted no time with idol chit chat this time around, which put Cere on edge. She had seen Icora in tense moments before, times where one on one became one on four or ten, times where the storms howled its loudest. This was not that close, but playtime was over. Icora carefully placed each item on the table before her and went back to her desk. Cere poured wine for the two of them and gladly helped herself to the oriental fan.

She came back with a large scroll of paper, trading the wine cup for the map, she rolled out the map. Tons of markings cluttered the once pristine paper, red circles and tiny holes riddled the paper, marking all the old expeditions that the pirate had been on. Cere glanced over the map, the hand drawn islands and dark stains reminded her of all the time they used to spend together, and the time Icora herself tossed the mermaid over her shoulder and dove face first into an uncharted jungle. It was all ridiculous, Cere doubted the shenanigans would end soon.

Icora placed one final pin through the map and sat down. A total of 8 pins marked places that she, personally, has not explored. If Cere was anyone else, it would have been impressive, given the thousands of archipelagos throughout the sea, but it was Cere.

“Well.” She took a sip of wine. “These are all the places a hidden civilization could be. Not visible with regular trade routes, not in the dead zone, and were all the surrounding islands can support life. What do you think.”

Cere leaned in to study the islands closer. They did meet all of Icora’s standards. A place to hide, supported by life, not protected or colonized by other countries and, of course, not explored. However, there were a few problems.

She picked a pin out of the map and set it down. “This island is in the Witch Nagga’s territory. She would not let anyone live there.”

“What if Nagga moved there after the city was established?”

“Nagga has not moved since the beginning of the islands’ creation. Her territory has never grown nor shrunk and she has never let anyone stay more than a few passing days. She would not let people thrive.” Annoyance shrouded her words. Every sea dwelling person knew about the great witch, telling someone was like stating the obvious.

“Aright, then. Next.”

If Cere had irises, she would have rolled her eyes. Instead she growled and returned her attention to the map.

“This one.” she grabbed another pin on the opposite side of the map. “Sirens frequent this area, it acts like a hub of sorts.”

Sirens hated people. Hated the touch of people, and usually killed them off immediately. Much like flies or lice. They would never congregate if the island was tainted, and never let them in either.

Icora sighed. “I wish you would tell me this stuff before.”

“Not your business, Land-Lover.” She smirked. “Don’t want you messing up other people’s lives like you have mine.”

“Oh please, your life has been enriched by me and you know it.” She took another sip of wine.

More pins were pulled out as Cere studied the map, she explained why each time and, Icora tried to remember each reason for the future. Icora knew some of the DeepSea trade route, just by Cere mentioning it in passing, but its extensions were still foreign, and truth be told, it didn’t concern Icora. It was, however, important to the merfolk and apparently, they and the members of the fae had outposts on islands far beyond the reach of others. Just that detail alone took out three from the running.

And then there were two pins left. One in the upper left at the edge of a key, just outside the dead zone, and other one by itself in the June Sea, right outside mermaid territory.

The captain set down her empty cup and leaned into the map.

“These are it? There are no more places that only you know of?”

“I’m done wasting time, Icora, these two places are the only ones a civilization like the stories depict could be. If it did exist at all.”

Icora furrowed her brow, thinking hard about any other detail that could open up other areas. There was nothing.

“Alright then.” She tapped the one at the edge of the key. “This one is closer, it has islands close to it so the beings there might have had knowledge of the city. An easy supply and travel route, and as you said, benevolent beings under the waters. Shall we start here?”

Cere shrugged. “I can swim there in less than 3 days.” She started to trace her fingers on the map. “If you travel up this way, I can meet you here.” She tapped the space that was somewhat between the two pins left standing. “And let you know if there’s anything worthwhile there.”

“You and what legs?” Icora asked out of habit.

“Fuck you.”

“Promise to meet me?” She said without skipping a beat.

“You still have my neckless, I have no choice.” Then. “You’ve… Also piqued my interest with this new fascination of yours.”

“Oh?” Icora leaned in, a thin smile stretched across her sun-tanned skin. “Do tell. How does a ‘land-loving’ civilization pique the interest of a selfish mermaid such as yourself?”

Cere let her blank eyes speak for herself. Icora leaned back before deciding to stand.

“Fine fine, it’s not my ‘business,’ I understand. I like your plan, we will set off as soon as you’re ready.” She held out a hand, adorning a few rings on her finders.

A hand shake didn’t mean anything to those dwelling under the sea, and Cere made a point to say it every time she offered, yet Icora persisted. She was a business woman and god be damned if they didn’t seal the deal with touching skin. If someone was flaky on a deal then why would a handshake matter?

Cere took her hand anyway and, wiped her hand on the couch right after. Icora laughed, took up the map and brought it to her desk to make some more calculations. While her back was turned, Cere pored another glass and dumped a quarter of the water on her face. The surface was way too hot for any living creature. The fact that there were creatures above water proved that there were monsters out there. Worst of it all, the fan was doing next to nothing to cool her down.

Cere sunk deep into the couch and sighed. She had to admit though, watching an experienced adventure work was mesmerizing. Icora weaved among piles on the ground to collect all the tools she needed to mark her course. A few minutes later, mostly due to double checking once or twice, she set her tools down and turned on her heels.

Without a word she left the room, not even glancing at the mermaid that mostly blocked the doorway. In retaliation, Cere poured the rest of the canteen on her tail, letting the salt water spread on the leather.

A few heat wreaking minuets that felt like hours later, a knock rapped on the door. The sullen face of Brinkley slowly opened the door and peered in.

“The captain has ordered me to take you to Maritime’s room.” He locked eyes with the mermaid and refused to look anywhere else. “Everything set?” He asked, out of political correctness more than anything.

“You’ll find out soon enough.” Cere stared at him with equal intensity and distain.

Ever since Icora dragged him on board, Cere never spent longer than she had to with him. She hated him, hated the way the feeling of his gaze got under her skin. Only once did Cere mention it to Icora, ‘it’ being the dark aura around the first mate, but Icora simply waved her off. That was the first sign that Icora knew exactly what she was doing, and Cere hated that. Hated Icora’s confidence and hated every single thing that ‘Brinkley’ ever touched. It was annoying too, why have her around when Icora’s just going to ignore her advice?

One day Cere would find out what made Icora and Brinkly such a pair, and she would wait patiently for that day. But for now…

“Shall I?” Brinkley cleared his throat.

“Do I have a choice in the matter?” Cere sighed and set down her canteen.

She opened her long arms like a child wanting a hug from a pet and allowed the first mate to scoop her up. The most comfortable way to carry a larger almost 7-foot mermaid was, apparently, over the shoulder so, that’s how Cere was carried. Like a sack of rotting potatoes, she was hauled down a level and to the other side of the ship. Neither of them speaking another word. Not even an apology when Cere tripped him up with her tail or when her head hit one of the steep steps.

Maritime was one of the lucky few that got a room to herself, being the captain's first and only apprentice and, of course, being a young girl. She lived alongside the other more important crew members down a narrow hallway, being ever so grateful for one of the cartographers eloping with a cook and them willing to move into the same room together. The rooms were small, smaller than any hidey hole she had ever slept in, but it was home to Martie.

It was also, in part, Cere’s home too. Whenever she climbed on board this deathtrap of a ship, she always found herself spending at least a few hours with Martie. Maybe it was their hatred of Brinkley that brought them together, or their willing entrapment by Icora, either way, they were friends.

Brinkley politely knocked on the door and waited for a reply. Cere might have waited except her face was against the opposite wall, and it was Brinkley.

Cere slammed her tail against the door as hard as she could without braking the wood. A startling thump sounded down the hallway, loud enough for other sleeping members to react with a start.

“MARTIE! OPEN UP!” If people were still sleeping, they were awake now.

There was a loud thump before the door swung wide open. As quickly as possible, Brinkley entered the room—which was filled with grimy buckets— dropped Cere onto the bed and left, knowing he was unwanted there.

The tiny space was barely large enough to fit Cere’s silvery- opal tail, even when it folded over itself. That paired with the buckets meant that there was little room for Martie herself, so she sat on her desk with a pile of dishrags in her lap. The two looked at each other for a moment before Martie threw a rag at Cere and started scrubbing.

#candle and the wax flame #my writing #pirates #mermaid #creative writing

4 notes · View notes