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thesculptedflower · 4 years

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For who could ever learn to love a Penguin

Heyyy friends! I’m back, and I’m feeling truly better. I had a pretty bad episode of seasonal depression, which I should have seen coming, but like every year, it took me by a surprise. But as we get closer and closer to Halloween and Christmas, I get better and better. Thank you all for giving me the time I needed and a shoulder to cry on if I needed it. You guys are truly irreplaceable. I love you.

This one took way longer than it should have, but here it is. I hope you like it.

@kpopgirlbtssvt

For who could ever learn to love a Penguin

You adored your father. He was everything you aspired to be, kind and generous, compassionate and loving. You knew he was always there to protect you and to have your back if you needed help. After your mother passed away, after losing a hard battle with cancer, your relationship with your father grew more and more closer. You were always together, doing things the two of you loved. It was as perfect as it could be. The pain from the loss of your mother was still present, but it was almost okay, you still had each other. That’s why it probably hurt as much as it did when he told you that he would marry this new woman. He told you that Grace was a kind soul that had endured bad things in her past, that she was down-to-earth and deserved another chance in love. Like he did too. It felt bad that he was moving on already, but all you wanted was for him to be happy. So you smiled and promised to welcome her with open arms.

You should have known it was too good to be true. Everything your father told you about Grace turned out to be just one side of the truth. Whenever she was with him, she was loving and acting like a perfect step-mother. But it all turned sour when your father left the room. She was bitter and mean, always ridiculing you about how you dressed or how you acted around her. Of course your father would listen your worries and cries when you told him, but every time, Grace managed to turn his head.

Grace’s two children were the spitting image of her. Spoiled teens who in their minds deserved the world on a golden plate. Sasha and Charles were arrogant and spiteful, always bullying you with all kinds of horrible ways. They would steal all your clothes from your closets and replace them with old dirty rags, or pretend to do something nice and bring you a cup of cocoa, which would turn out to be something disgusting. They all treated you like you were a house maid, and not their step-sister.

Life was tolerable, you tried to focus on the good and spent as much alone time with your father as you could. You were ready to endure what ever treatment you got from your step-mother and step-siblings to keep your father happy. But life had other plans for you.

The funeral was small. Grace refused to invite your fathers old friends from distant towns, having only her family and you present. You were shattered. It felt like nothing mattered anymore, like the damage was too great to fix. The words spoken by the priest never reached your mind, unable to bring any comfort. Grace and her children on the other hand seemed to be fine. Too fine almost. You hated them from the bottom of your soul, but you knew you’d have to live with them for some time. You were in no condition on living on your own now, without anyone to rely on if something happened. You made a promise to yourself to treat Grace like she was air to you, giving her the bare minimum. They were perfectly okay with that. Even pleased that you were spending most of the time alone in your room. You’d just have to deal with this for few years and then you’d be gone. Wrong again.

Elijah Van Dahl, a wealthy socialite who had fallen for Grace. You swore you could see a pattern. You hoped Elijah would see through Grace’s lies and manipulation, but for nothing. He was way too good for her, just like your father had been. In the following few years you learned to know Elijah a lot more. He could never replace your father, but you were starting to think him as a father-figure. He treated you kindly, like you were his own. He stood up for you when Grace or her children spoke ill of you. He nurtured you when you were sick, and always put your wellbeing before his. The place you once called a home, was finally staring to feel like one again.

After you started spending more time out of your room, you noticed how distant Grace had grown from Elijah. He tried to be the best husband he could, getting nothing back from his wife. Sasha and Charles were as ignorant as ever, rolling their eyes behind his back when he tried to be nice towards them. On top of it all, they were spending huge amounts of his money. You could see that it took a toll on him, but he just kept on smiling, trying to keep them happy. He deserved to have people around him that truly loved and appreciated him and everything he does for them.

’’Everyone, I’d like to introduce you my son, Oswald.’’ Elijah said proudly, holding his hand firmly on a shoulder of a young man with raven hair. They were both smiling, though Oswald a little awkwardly. It must have been terrifying to suddenly meet so many new people at once. You weren’t expecting a warm welcome from Grace, so you took it upon yourself to make him feel like home.

’’Hi, I’m Y/N, it’s a pleasure to meet you Oswald.’’ You greeted cheerfully, pulling him to a welcoming hug.

’’Hello, Y/N, the pleasure is all mine.’’ Oswald replied as he wrapped his arms gently around you. You could feel his nerves easing already.

You turned around to introduce Grace, Sasha and Charles, who were clearly very unpleased. They were eyeing him from head to toes, not a hint of a smile on their faces. You rolled your eyes and sighed.

’’Come Oswald, I’ll show you your room.’’ You suggested, glancing towards Elijah for approval. He nodded in return before turning his eyes to his wife. He looked almost angry and you hoped he’d let it out and tell her how to treat his children.

’’I’m so sorry you had to come home to that.’’ You apologized, trying to make Oswald feel better about staying here. ’’If it helps at all, they’ve always been like that. To me too.’’

’’They shouldn’t treat you like that. You seem like a lovely person.’’

You felt your cheeks getting a little rosy, luckily you were a few steps ahead of Oswald.

’’Thank you Oswald, I’m looking forward to get to know you better.’’ You said kindly, glancing over your shoulder to look at him. His smile was genuine and radiated the same kind of warmth your father did when he smiled at you. It felt bittersweet.

You turned the handle to a spare room and opened the door. ’’Here, it’s all yours.’’

You moved aside to let Oswald in. His eyes widened as he admired the spacious room. He placed his bag on the end of the huge bed and sat down next to it.

’’It’s- it’s quite a lot to take in.’’ He sounded a little exhausted. It was easy to understand why. Being pulled to a totally new place with complete strangers around would be hard to anyone.

You smiled softly and took a seat next to him on the bed.

’’You’ll get used to it, I’m sure your father’ll do anything to make you feel like home.’’ You cheered him up.

’’That’s very kind of you to say.’’ Oswald replied, carefully placing his hand on top of yours. ’’Thank you, really, for helping me get adjusted.’’

You nodded with a smile as an answer before standing up.

’’Dinner will be ready in a few moments, I’ll see you downstairs then.’’ You said before leaving him to unpack his things. You didn’t want to be too pushy, even if you already longed to know him better. He was a breeze of fresh air in the house that sometimes felt so stuffy and hostile. He could be someone who you could trust with your heart and soul.

The following weeks went like flying. Oswald opened up more and more everyday, and it didn’t take long for you to grow some very affectionate feelings for him. And he seemed to return those feelings. He was there to comfort you when Sasha and Charles bullied you, and you were there for him. Things got extremely nasty when Grace presented a newspaper to Elijah, with a frontal page of Oswald’s criminal past. She had done everything in her power to get Oswald out of the house. Luckily Elijah was not giving up on Oswald. He had proven he had changed and was perfectly capable of living a proper life, away from crime. Of course Grace wouldn’t believe it. The marriage between the two grew more sour and sour on her end, Elijah still trying to get things to work. You admired how Elijah took Oswald in immediately, how he took you in. You only wished he would for once put his own wellbeing first.

’’May I have a moment with you, son?’’ Elijah asked, peaking his head in to your room. He knew very well what was going between the two of you, even if you tried to hide it from the rest of the family. You could see that he was glad Oswald had someone like you beside him. You had been reading books together on your bed, in a comfortable silence.

’’Of course, I’ll join you in a moment.’’ Oswald said happily. Elijah nodded and retreated to the downstairs parlour.

’’I hope it’s nothing serious.’’ You said quietly. Elijah had some health issues that you worried about. He always assured you that he’d be fine as long as he took his medicine and stayed away fro alcohol. But losing your own father made you even more worried.

’’It’s probably nothing, maybe he just wants to talk. Just for the pleasure of talking. I’ve been pretty cooped with you most of the time.’’ He said with a soft laugh and placed his book on the nightstand. You lowered yours to your lap and searched Oswalds eyes for comfort. You didn’t need to say anything, he was already moving next to you, to hold you close to his chest. You pressed yourself against him, inhaling his scent to calm down. He caressed your head while holding you tight.

’’I just feel really anxious for some reason.’’ You whispered.

’’I know, I can feel it too.’’

You lifted your eyes to look up at him. His features were soft as he gazed down at you. You reached your hand up to his cheek and pulled him in for a gentle kiss.

’’Will you sleep here tonight?’’ You asked, already knowing the answer.

’’As always.’’

Oswald pressed a kiss to your forehead before making his way to his father.

Elijah was lounging in front of a softly glowing fireplace. He looked happy. Oswald sat down next to him, the warm glow of the fireplace softening his features. For a moment they both just enjoyed the feeling of being together. Grace brought a beautiful bottle of whiskey to the side table and one glass for Oswald. He thanked her kindly.

’’Son, I want you to know, that you are loved, and you’re not alone.’’ Elijah spoke suddenly. His demeanor was filled with emotion, with unconditional love for his son. Oswald was taken aback, his eyes threatening to water. ’’And the sun will come up tomorrow.’’ He continued, bringing hope for their future together.

’’Thank you father.’’ Oswald almost sobbed, too emotional to hide it anymore.

’’Now I feel like a drink.’’ Elijah said, raising the glass Grace had brought. He filled it up with the amber liquid, savoring the strong scent.

’’But your health?’’ Oswald questioned, a clear worry in his voice.

’’To hell with that.’’

Elijah downed the drink in one go, the liquid pleasantly burning his throat. Oswalds eyes were on his father, looking for any sign of discomfort. But he seemed to be just fine.

’’I want you to have it all my son. This house and everything in it. Just the way it is, a piece of history. Our history. First thing tomorrow, I’ll have my lawyers draw it up.’’

Oswald was amazed. He felt like he belonged here, like he had finally found something to live for after losing his mother. This man he had grown to love so quickly, who took him in when he most needed it, wanted to have him continue his legacy. Oswald was just about to lean in to hug his father, when Elijah face distorted to a painful grimace. Oswald’s face dropped.

Elijah stood up abruptly, holding his stomach. He groaned in pain, his mouth starting to ooze white foam. Oswald stood up to catch him as he started fall, ending up on the floor with him.

’’Father! Father! No!’’ Oswald cried in agony.

Grace rushed to the parlour, Sasha hot on her heels.

’’Elijah!’’ She screamed, ’’Did he drink that?’’ She kept yelling.

Oswald nodded, tears streaming down his face as he held his dying father.

’’But his condition! Sasha, call an ambulance!’’ Grace commanded. Charles had papers behind the side table, worried look on his face.

Oswald was too shocked to notice how Grace motioned Charles to knock the bottle of the table. The liquid sizzled as it hit the carpet, but Oswald was too distraught to care.

’’Y/N!’’ Oswald cried. You were already on your way, running down the halls as fast as you could. You could already hear sirens somewhere on the way. You weren’t ready to face whatever waited you downstairs, but you would be there for Oswald. You’d always be there for him.

After the funeral, the house felt like a prison. Grace had turned you and Oswald to her personal slaves. She had assured you both that you couldn’t make it out there on your own, that you needed to stay at the manor for your own good. You both were too tired, too emotionally strained to fight back, so you did as she told you. You cleaned and cooked, Oswald drove her around the town and made her drinks. Which she almost always spilled, making you work extra.

’’Oswald! Make me an apple martini!’’ Grace screamed from the parlour. You and Oswald were both at the kitchen, preparing for tonights dinner. Grace had ordered a very very complicated meat dish, that required tons of pre-work. You could already see her and her children spitting it out and having you do it all over again.

Oswald sighed and began making the drink.

’’Yes, ma’am! Coming right up!’’ He replied with a fake happy voice. It pained you to see him like that, but at least you had each other. You swiped your forehead with the back of your hand, leaving a smudge of flour behind. Oswald let out a soft laughter, pulling you out of your thoughts.

’’What?’’ You asked confused, looking at him working on the drink. He paused for a moment to help you clean yourself.

’’You have a little something on your forehead.’’ He said with a smile, gripping a towel. He wiped the flour off your head and showed you the now floury cloth. You laughed a little sadly, suddenly realizing how hopeless and unfair your situation really was.

’’I want to leave.’’ You whispered, turning your head down to look at your hands. There was flour and dirt under your nails, little cuts from cleaning up broken glass. Oswald took your hands in his and gently lifted your face towards him.

’’We will leave, as soon as we can. I promise I will get you out of here.’’ He whispered, pressing his lips against yours. The kiss was filled with need, it was a promise that the days ahead would be better.

’’Oswald! Where’s the damn drink?’’ Grace’s screaming broke the moment between you, forcing Oswald back to work.

’’Just a moment, it seems I can’t find the olives.’’ Oswald reported back, looking for an excuse. You rolled your eyes, cursing Grace to the deepest hell in your mind. You weren’t usually one for violence, but you were sure Grace had a personal place reserved for her in hell.

’’On the second drawer on the left! You should know that!’’

’’Thank you ma’am, you’re right I should have known.’’ Oswald replied quietly as he opened the said drawer. Grace must have made a mistake, because there surely wasn’t olives. Oswald’s eyes grew wide as he recognized the bottle that laid on the bottom. It was the same bottle Elijah had drinker from on the night he died. Oswald remembered that the bottle fell and the liquid spilled out, but some had remained. It smelled like death. Oswald turned to look at you and lifted the bottle for you to see. It didn’t take long for you to put two and two together and figure out what had happened. You could see Oswald’s eyes turning dark, his whole body growing tense. Just to be sure, he poured some of the liquid on an apple that was left on the counter. As the liquid hit the apple, it turned rotten where ever the poison dripped. You lifted your hand to your mouth, covering your shocked expression.

’’What are we going to do Oswald?’’ You whispered, scared you would get caught. If Grace could poison her own husband, what horrible things could she do to you if she found out. Oswalds knuckles were turning white around the bottle. You hurried next to him and placed your hand over his, forcing his attention on you.

’’Oswald, talk to me.’’ You begged.

Oswalds grip around the bottle eased and his muscles relaxed.

’’I’ll handle this, you will stay out of this.’’ He said, a different tone in his voice. His eyes looked different as he looked at you. You could only nod, afraid for what he was about to do. Oswald finished making the drink and served it to Grace.

’’Dinner will be served in an hour.’’

Oswald had commanded you to stay the rest of the night in your room. You tried to fight back, wanting to help him anyway you could, but he was set. You wouldn’t come out of your room before he told you so. You were feeling more and more anxious by every passing minute. You could smell the roast in the oven, and sometimes hear Oswald moving the pots and pans as he prepared the dinner. Grace was most likely already at the table, waiting fro the moment she could judge the dinner to shreds.

’’Sasha! Charles! Get down here!’’

You heard Grace scream for her children, but you couldn’t hear a reply. In fact, you couldn’t hear anything. No footsteps, no bickering about having to eat something that Oswald had made. It made you awfully uneasy. Something was wrong.

’’Here’s the first piece. I hope it’s not too gamey.’’ Oswald pretended to be courteous, acting like the best butler. Grace took a small bite of the meat, her face revealing her opinion before she even opened her mouth. ’’Overcooked.’’ She said grimly.

’’Try the other, it’s much more tender.’’ Oswald suggested, cutting her a piece. Once again Grace took a bite. ’’It’s the same.’’

Oswald grinned wickedly, standing proudly next to his makings.

’’You look different. Where are the children, ring the bell again.’’ Grace continued, looking at Oswald suspiciously.

’’Oh you noticed! I do my hair differently now.’’ Oswald said cheerfully as Grace kept eating. ’’But I doubt Sasha and Charles will hear it.’’

Grace turned to look at him with a confused look.

’’I found the poisoned bottle, the bottle you used to kill my father.’’

’’What on earth are you talking about?’’ Grace asked, clearly turning anxious. Maybe even scared.

’’You should’ve thrown it away, guess you’re a little too mean to waste a good poison, huh.’’ Oswald said darkly, leaning down closer to Grace. She tried to stand up from her seat, but Oswald was quicker to grab a knife and force her to sit back down. Grace tried to call her children for help. You could hear that too. You were pacing around your room, trying to think about anything else than what was going on down there.

’’They won’t come.’’ Oswald’s grin was turning more and more wicked as he got closer to revealing what he had done to her children. ’’Where are they?’’ She pleaded.

’’You thought they tasted the same, but Sasha, definitely more tender in my opinion.’’ Oswald almost shouted, waving the knife between Grace and the two pieces of meat on the dinner table. Horrified expression on Graces face was bringing joy to Oswald, he was back to his normal wicked self, and he loved it. Grace screamed as Oswald brought the knife down to her chest, multiple times.

You covered your ears and sat down to a corner in your room, furthest from the door. Tears were falling down your cheeks, you didn’t know how to feel. You weren’t scared for yourself, but for Oswald. Could he be good ever again, could he stay on the right side of law for you? Soon the screaming stopped and you could remove your hands from your ears. The quick silence was replaced with footsteps coming closer to your room. You knew it was Oswald but you couldn’t help but feel anxious. The doorknob turned and Oswald stepped in. His face and clothes were covered in blood. You could see that he was exhausted. You stood up slowly and took a few steps closer to him.

’’This is me Y/N, the real me.’’ He said softly, not trying to hide anything. He seemed to be at peace, but a little shameful at the same time. You closed the distance between you and used your sleeve to wipe off some blood on his face.

’’I know.’’ You answered without any fear in your voice. He wasn’t the Oswald you knew anymore, but there were still undeniable feelings. Oswald lifted his hands to your waist and closed his eyes, enjoying the feeling of your hand on his face.

’’I love you.’’ He said quietly, keeping his eyes closed. ’’But can you love a Penguin?’’ He continued with sorrow in his voice.

’’You’re not a Penguin to me. I’ll always love you.’’

#Gotham #gotham series #gotham fanfic #gotham imagine #Oswald Cobblepot #oswald cobblepot x reader #oswald cobblepot x you #oswald cobblepot x y/n #The Penguin #the penguin x reader #the penguin x you #the penguin x y/n

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iwannaseeyainakia · 3 years

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The Moonlight Circus

This was a story I was commissioned to write by an anonymous tumblr user. Thought it would be good to show my writing and see how it changes over time!

trigger warning: gore, smoking, religious and supernatural themes, death, minor profanity

The heel of Morgan’s boots clicked against the checkered flooring of the circus. She made her way to the center of the stage, her stride casual. She readjusted her gray beanie as she climbed up the steps. The plastic name tag below her collarbone wobbled with each step. The words “Moonlight Circus” in Courier New font rested above her first name. The floor of the stage was filthy; ash and soot smeared into the once pristine black and white pattern. Her pale green eyes followed a line of ash leading to a rusted cast-iron cannon. The smell of burnt flesh lingered in the air.

She exhaled softly, reached into the pocket of her ‘Metallica’ pullover, and pulled out a lavender lighter and a worn pack of Newport cigarettes. She yanked one out of the box and shoved it in her hoodie again. Her black bitten nails struggled to start a flame before she victoriously held it to her cigarette, finally lighting it. A pewter gray smog released from the very tip, emitting a bitter comforting scent. She lifted her hand to her face, the cig clenched between her middle and pointer finger. As the paper touched her pale lips, the once vermillion embers shifted to a startling violet and the musty gray smoke suddenly turned a mauve tone. Morgan took a long drag of the strange purple cigarette while taking in her surroundings.

The massive tent surrounding her was a striped pattern of burgundy and eggshell white. The fabric was contrastingly cleaner than the stage of the ‘Moonlight Circus.’ The seating for guests was discolored bleachers; the aluminum being stained and scratched away by years of usage and lack of cleanliness. Many hot dogs drenched in mustard and bags of popcorn must have been dropped on it. There were multiple stacked on either side of the tent. The elevated stage had an outer ring surrounded by dark crimson foam. A round indoor pool was 15 feet away from her, the bottom of the pool a dirty yellow tint. Scales and confetti floated at the surface of the tainted water.

Large LED stage lights were set up at the ceiling of the canvass. Each was about the size of a child and contained a lens of different hues. They dimly lit the stage white. The tent was held up by dozens of rods with a singular large black pole at the center. The fabric bunched together and pulled up; it looked almost as if the very top of the tent was a tunnel that led nowhere, the stripes creating a dizzying optical illusion.

The circus itself was located in a cheap amusement park; the locals treasured this place. It was affordable and held plenty of memories dear to their hearts. The Moonlight Circus was the main event, the park's pièce de résistance if you will.

They had crowds of people flood the show every day. Bright smiles beamed on the faces of children and content parents awaited a trip down memory lane, nostalgia a pleasant high. After all, who wouldn’t be entranced by real-life monsters?

Morgan released a puff of amethyst smoke, gently laying the cigarette between her lips again and keeping it there. She proceeded to stuff her hands in her pockets before an elegant voice called out to her, disrupting her daze.

“Are you ready for the next show Morgana?” The feminine voice was gentle and motherly. She spoke each word with a grace that held centuries of wisdom. Her thick French accent was gorgeous; her voice matched exactly how she appeared. Morgan casually turned around and sent the woman a closed smile. Guinevere was a being of beauty, a true spectacle to behold. She was a small woman, approximately 5’2, petite but with a stance that conveyed raw strength. Her billowing pitch-black gown strewn behind her as she sashayed her direction. Her arms gently swung at her hips, an opera-length cigarette holder between the dainty fingers of her left hand. The skin of said hand was a pale blue-gray. The center of the long pipe was a silver fading into an intense black; a cigarette burning blood red at the end of it. Morgan glanced at her long dark hair. It was bone straight and swung behind her waist. The fringe of her locks covered her right eye, but Morgan could still make out a piercing iris a startling shade of red.

“Hey, Gwen. Yeah, pretty much. Is everyone in the dressing room right now?” She inquired as the monster woman stood in front of her. Gwen gripped the edge of her large ebony sunhat, cigarette holder still between her fingers. The brim of the apparel was big enough to cover most of her hauntingly beautiful face. Lace hung half an inch off the seams and thin royal purple sticks of dynamite adorned the outer ring. While the entire hat was an eye-catcher; a nod to her part in the circus, the true emphasis of the hat was the large skull littered with cracks and yellow stains from tobacco.

“Yes, and they’re taking damn long if I do say so myself.” The skull quipped judgmentally. Morgan chuckled. Gwen was not so amused by her husband’s comment.

“Hush Pierre. No need to be snippy.” Guinevere jutted her hip out and placed her right hand on it to convey her sass. The skull instead, haughtily laughed at his wife. She rolled her eyes but could not contain the fond smile that grew on her lips, exposing her sharp fangs. Despite all the time that’s passed, she still couldn’t fight how easily Pierre made her grin ear to ear. “Don’t mind him, Morgana, we’d best be on our way to prepare.” Gwen gripped Morgan’s wrist and tugged her along in the direction of the dressing room.

Guinevere was the owner of the Moonlight Circus. A wonderful boss indeed, she felt more like a friend she’d known all her life than her superior. She also was a woman with a dream: to unite humans and monsters through entertainment. Humans used to fear the supernatural, loath it with their very being, but in this day and age, they take great pleasure in the abnormalities of the differing species. Harmony is built in this circus; humans come for entertainment and to admire the beautiful, violent specters, and the monster women give it to them. Gwen, a vampire, found joy in making others happy with her performance and her performers.

She often sat with Morgan under the night sky, gazing at the stars with a fond expression, spilling her life story to her.

As a young girl, Guinevere was dazzled by monster kind. Born human, she felt there was so much to be discovered in magic and mythology. She felt it a shame that humanity was so quick to turn a blind eye to something so beautiful due to its differences in appearance. Her inclination in performing arts made her dream of a world where she could use performance to change a deep-seeded ideal within the societal structure. She’d sit next to her window sill, eyes twinkling with delight, wishing upon stars that someday her dream would become reality.

For a woman such as herself, an objective of that nature was unheard of; impossible even. Nonetheless, she persevered. She wanted to tell the world that as a woman she would create art like no other and she would make a change for the supernatural of all origins. With a cigar between her lips, she rolled up the sleeves of her dress and got to work. She specifically sought out other women of mythological backgrounds for her acts. By 1890, she’d created the “Moonlight Circus” with the help of supernatural people she’d met along the way. In a small corner of Paris, France, it stayed. Given that monsters were still looked down upon by mankind, they’d been spit on, leered at, and dismissed by the public. As decades passed without much luck, her hope slowly began to dwindle.

Gwen spent many restless nights wandering the streets of Paris, desperately trying to spread word of the big top containing wonderous spectacles to no avail. Just as she was close to giving up an aspiration she’d clutched tight since childhood, an American traveling carnival approached her. The owner, a large man who was only ever seen adorning a velvet suit, believed there was promise in her bazaar. He saw something no one else but Guinevere considered possible: an opportunity for change. In a society where her family within the tent were nothing but social rejects, outcasts; they along with everyone like them could be so much more. The man, kinder than Gwen could have ever hoped, opened up about his beliefs and desire to have her circus as an attraction in his fair. And she accepted with insurmountable glee.

So, a new chapter for the big top began. With this foreign carnival, she traveled and built up her crew from nothing but sheer will. She continued her exploration and found many monstrous beings with the same ideology to join as performers. Word soon got out of the fantastical bazaar that made its way around the world. As opinions of the inhuman began to evolve with new generations, so too did their desire to know more. And eventually, they had a crowd; an adoring audience astounded by the display of otherworldly figures. Now, the carnival has made its permanent home in New Mexico, USA, and the circus by extension.

“Think it’ll be packed tonight, Gwen?” Morgan already knew the answer, but figured it would be polite to make small talk.

“Yes, absolutely my dear.” Guinevere continued to drag her to a slit in the circus tent. She placed her cigarette holder between her lips and used her palm to gently spread the opening, revealing a backstage area. It was renovated to be a dressing room; gothic aesthetic to match the theme, for all the performers pre-show. It was a much smaller canopy structure installed into the side of the main show tent. Despite the ground being grassy terrain, the room itself was well done. Dark oak vanities covered the walls, steampunk and alternative costumes littered any free space, and makeup laid atop every flat surface. The spherical bulbs lining the mirror of the vanities were all lit a dim white light, illuminating the room enough so it was not pitch black.

Light chatter and giggles filled the room as everyone who performed in the circus continued to get ready.

The first person to notice Morgan’s sudden appearance was Gwen’s daughter, Victoria. Her eyes instantly brightened and a large Cheshire grin grew to meet her eyes. Vicky’s poofy raven black dress bounced as she sprinted towards her. The ivory petticoat underneath made the lace skirt fuller and frilly. The undead theme seemed to run in the family; Vicky being the zombie to her mother's bloodsucker and her father's skeletal remains. Her skin and teeth were rotten and oozing. Her hair was almost floor-length, and unbelievably matted. The knots at the base of her skull were so large you could have mistaken them for golf balls wrapped inside her tresses. A pair of filthy copper goggles rested on her forehead, the lenses murky and caked in blood. Between her toothy smile was a large cigar. There was no way to pinpoint the brand, as it was only labeled with a strange rune Morgan had never seen before. Apparently, she had been taking a drag from the cigar, because smoke began to leak out of the holes in her skin.

Vicky launched her small form into Morgan’s arms. Morgan struggled to grip her as the foul stench her rotten flesh emanated was near unbearable. Swallowing down an audible gag, she smiled at the little girl before placing her gently back onto the grass.

“Morgan! You’re going to love my act tonight.” Victoria loudly claimed, holding her fists to her chest with a grin still plastered upon her lips. Morgan couldn’t help but return the expression. Vicky was a sweet girl. A demented undead one, but sweet nonetheless. “I’m sure I will, Vicky. You’ll kill it tonight.” She seemed to have chosen the right words, because Vicky’s grin only got wider as she bounced up and down, skirt floating with her movement. She made gestures referencing explosions and tried to explain how her act tonight would go, but her words were so jumbled they were not understandable in the slightest. Her enthusiasm continued to increase alongside her violent movements before her mother placed a hand on her small shoulder.

“Now, now Victoria, you’re talking so fast no one can understand you, dear. She’ll get to see your performance soon anyway, so let's keep it a surprise.” Gwen chided her daughter sweetly. “Ok, mommy.” Vicky heeded her mother's words and scurried to the side to search for her favorite lighter, cigar bouncing between her decayed teeth. Cigar smoke trailed behind her figure. Gwen shook her head at her daughter’s antics, gripping the cig holder between her lips to take in a puff of nicotine.

Victoria was the product of forbidden love between Guinevere and Pierre, a formerly vampiric man she’d encountered while searching for spectacles to join her circus. The traveling carnival had traversed Europe and decided to take camp for a while in the French countryside. Gwen had been overjoyed to be in her mother country again. She languished in the smell of the air and the sounds of nature like music to her ears. On a particularly stormy night, a vampire man with hair as light as wheat and skin as pale as snow knocked at the door of her bedroom within a quaint little inn. She opened the door to see him drenched in rain. The revenant, Pierre, gave her a goofy smile and asked for a part in her monstrous sideshow.

While puzzled, she wasn’t going to pass up the opportunity. Pierre and Guinevere grew close the more they worked at the fair together. They both had a passion for performing and magic. Romance blossomed; eventually, they eloped and she became pregnant. It was uncommon for vampires to conceive children, let alone with one of mankind. Guinevere was a woman of adventure and risk, so she took this new development in stride. In the excitement of her family growing larger, she decided to have Pierre turn her. Neither realized the possible problems that would arise from changing her into a vampire while bearing a child.

And so, when Victoria was born, she was sickly and frail in every sense. Her genetics were corrupted by the change her mother took on while carrying her. Her personality, though, could be described as nothing but robust. Vicky as a toddler would often act as if she were not terminally ill; watching the acts in her mother’s circus with enraptured eyes, even participating in the choreography herself from time to time.

Guinevere often spoke of a time in which Vicky had climbed into the cannon without anyone noticing and failed in trying to light it with one of her old cigars. She had rushed over in a panic, tearing her from the barrel before the flame grew closer. She checked over her body and, once assured she was not injured, inquired what she had been thinking. Victoria, the overzealous little girl she was, could only laugh with a large smile plastered on her face. “I wanted to fly mommy!”

As she grew older, her body deteriorated. By age five she could barely walk. By six she couldn’t at all. At seven, she no longer had the energy to speak. At the young age of eight, she could only watch the performing women with a blank smile before she passed. For days they grieved over her. They left her cadaver laying on her satin bed sheets as she was before her death, in anguished hopes they could find a way to bring her back to them. After tirelessly searching for any form of necromancy that could revive her, Guinevere entered Victoria’s bedroom to adjust her as she did every day. Only to be startled by her daughter sitting upright and speaking to her.

“Mommy, can I go play at the circus now?” Victoria bounced off the bed with newfound strength in her rotten limbs. Gwen could only rush to hug her baby who was with her once more. Undead, but with her despite everything. From that day on she allowed Victoria to become a full-time member of the bazaar. The human (zombie) cannonball. With a body that could be put back together, no working pain receptors, and a passion for explosives and theatrics, she fits the part flawlessly.

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The smaller tent was filled with a variety of supernatural women, the circus only having female staff. While most continued with their activities, some turned her direction and welcomed her. The parts in the circus were relatively small compared to most other acts, but the integration of monsters and mankind made up for it.

Every single person handpicked by Guinevere herself, the cosmetologists, background musicians, and stage crew were all fairies. They each had varying sizes and shades of iridescent butterfly wings, and tight thigh-length dresses made from leaves and spider silk. While not as small as fae are typically depicted in human literature, they reached only about 3 feet and hovered above ground with a light flap of their appendages; they had the grace of hummingbirds. Faes are known for their artistic and musical capabilities. There were twenty-three pixies on set, all of them being gentle girls with a heart of gold. Their love of all life made them a wonderful asset to this circus promoting coexistence. Currently, they fluttered around tidying the room and freshening up the faces of the main performers.

The ‘clowns’ of the act were all young shapeshifters. All fifteen of the women were from different cultures, shapeshifters being in a large majority of mythology; making them unique despite the similarities in capacities. Their abilities were used to shift them from playful clowns to dangerous animals to be used in other’s acts. While their personalities were all very different, each of them loved performing at the Moonlight Circus. Some spoke amongst themselves, shimmying into tight leotards and fixing their updos. A few of them, though, struggled to keep Victoria from swallowing handfuls of gunpowder. Especially with a lit cigar in her mouth.

“VICKY NO-” A wet splat hit the wall and a giggling head rolled at their feet. The shifters looked in disgust at their blood-stained clothes and scolded the decapitated head of the little girl. The others just laughed at the normally terrifying sight.

Morgana turned her eyes away, cringing internally, but knowing full well she’d be back on her feet in a few minutes.

The main acts were very typical of a circus; the women enacting them were anything but. The designated tight rope walker was an Arachne woman named Magnolia. Her form was that of a tall human, her body could only be described as pear-shaped. Despite her form being humanoid, she had skin that was a smooth charcoal black and a spider abdomen attached to her lower back. The abdomen was a sunshine yellow covered in symmetrical white spots on either side. The pedicel connecting it to her body was the same tone as her skin. She also had eight spindly appendages protruding from the middle of her spine, each striped black and yellow. Magnolia had shoulder-length wavy hair a banana color with frayed strands of spider webs tangled within. Despite the frightening six extra eyes lining her temples, she was a kind eccentric woman. As the aerialist, the tightrope she walked during each performance was a magnificent braided rope made of her webbing. Magnolia was sitting on a cushioned stool, twisting her thread into a complicated bracelet, only glancing up to grace Morgan with a polite smile and greeting.

Delane and Clio, however, wasted no time in rushing to make conversation with her.

“Yo, Morgan! We’ve been looking for ya. Can you help me into this wetsuit?” Clio loudly proclaimed, simultaneously carrying her lover, Delane, in her arms bridal style. The duo is the aquatic performers of the show. Clio is a water nymph with connections to the Greek god Poseidon. She willingly took on a human female’s appearance, but that could not hide the divine aura that radiated off her very being. She had a lean build but still held all the strength a creature with holy connections such as herself should have. Her head was bare of hair and her ears pointed in an elf-like fashion. She stumbled around in a limp bedazzled wetsuit pulled up her hips halfway, the skin of her upper half an olive tan.

“Seriously dude, I’m struggling here.”

Delane was a mermaid, a perfect match to Clio’s Nereid. Her Prussian blue scaled tail hung limply over her girlfriend’s arm. The trawl half of her body closely resembled a koi fish. The caudal fin was long and thin, like fine silk flowing with the movements of Clio’s jerks. A dorsal fin ran down the back of it, getting smaller as it reached the end of her tail. She also had multiple pelvic fins running down the sides; the fins at the top were much larger than the ones at the end. They were all light cyan. The scales from her tail ran up her stomach, becoming much more scattered as they reached the dark skin of her breasts. Her hair was a short black pixie cut with a shaggy top, ending at the gills just below her chin.

“Yeah, uh, maybe hurry before she drops me, please.” Delane nervously spoke. She wore a necklace composed of seashells and stones from the shore of her home, matching Clio’s own as a symbol of devotion between them. Together, they enacted a beautiful water-based act that captivated every audience we had.

Morgan laughed at Clio’s predicament before moving to help her into the suit. Just as she got a grip on the neoprene material a strong voice halted them.

“You could’ve just asked me, Clio. Here I got you.” Large calloused hands assisted her in her efforts. Morgan turned her head to Anastalia. Anastalia was the strong woman act of the circus. Like many of those hired here, a part of her resembled that of mankind, but she was very obviously not human. Her upper half was the build of a shredded woman: pulsing muscles, large bulging breasts, defined abs, intimidating biceps. She looked as if she was carved by the gods themselves. Her bottom half, while just as muscular, was that of a black stallion. Her four large hooves clapped against the ground in a deafening display and her dark tail broke the sound barrier like a whip. The hair atop her head was a dark brown with a sheen that made it glint in the light. Her long straight locks cascaded down the flesh of her shoulders a similar shade, reaching the small of her back.

Anastalia peers up from the suit to bicker teasingly with Clio. She galloped gracefully in circles around them, admiring her handy work. “Eh, to be honest, I think it needs to be a bit bluer at the hips.” She quipped thoughtfully. Clio and Delane exchanged a glance and giggled in unison. Clio responded, “You’re one for detail, but let me tell ya, you don’t look it.” She lets out a boisterous laugh, keeling over slightly, causing Delane to screech in fear of being dropped and grip her shoulders tighter. Anastalia only rolled her eyes.

“Har har, laugh it up, I’m not just a brute. I’m also an artist.” She struck a pose that had Clio cackling harder and Delane protesting louder. Morgan shared a laugh with them, her sides aching. Loud footsteps behind her turned her attention away for a moment. “C’mon Lanira, hurry!” Vicky, seemingly back to normal after spontaneously combusting, ran and jumped in a very abstract dance with her friend. Lanira, an incorporeal little girl resembling that of a cartoon witch floated around her at a much slower pace. “I’m going as fast as I can Vicky.” Lanira’s tone was much less enthusiastic. She had a slight cockney accent.

Her dark flowing gown had no shape to it, more like a sack made of cotton. Her sleeves puffed out and tightened below her palms that gripped onto a translucent 19th-century broomstick underneath her. She twirled around with Victoria, who was still jumping around and flailing in her interpretative art form. Her wide-brimmed hat had a large peak at the top that dipped down at the very point. It was navy blue and held a wide variety of jewelry and trinkets that dangled down. Bits of cloth hung off the edge with pearls woven into it.

Lanira had become a ghost after a ‘mishap’ with one of her spells backfiring. As the magician of the big top, she experimented with plenty of dangerous enchantments. One moment she was but a mangled corpse of a girl with crippling insomnia, and the next she was a spirit with large eyebags, continuing with her act as if death had not just occurred before everyone’s eyes. As the specter of a young talented sorceress, she must have expected this possible outcome and kept a few “tricks” up her sleeve. She kept with her act even after her untimely demise, even increasing the intensity now that death was no longer a possibility.

Morgan took a long drag of her cigarette and continued to gaze in amusement. Lanira half-heartedly attempted to keep up with Victoria, the zombie child still lost in her own little world.

“Alright, everyone! It’s time to get this show on the road once more, as they say.” Gwen chuckled at herself lightly. The room erupted in conversation and scrambling to get in costume in time. The pale woman approached her once more. “Will you please start allowing entry, dear?” She nodded at her, cig between her lips bobbing. “Of course.” She smiled and made her way out of the dressing room.

The flap quietly closed behind her form as she made her way to her ticket booth. She could still hear the loud conversations and shuffling from inside the room. Her steps echoed throughout the stage. The entrance to the inside of the show floor was a large rectangular cut-out with a flap hanging to the side that could be zipped up. The outside of the tent was the same striped colors as the inside, illuminated by the setting sun. The tent performed almost all day, but their largest and most spectacular show was always right after the sunset. It was also the most packed of all their performances.

The ticket booth was a wooden structure painted red and white. A gigantic sign in the shape of a ticket was placed on the roof displaying the name of the circus. It sat in front of a zig-zagging gate that led to the entrance. She opened the door and stepped inside, admiring the long line that had already formed. The crowd was a diverse amount of people. Some were singular people showing up alone for the show. Some were human couples on a date or parents with their ecstatic children bouncing with joy. There were even some couples that were interspecies; a human and a not-so-human person lovingly interlocked their hands.

She opened the window of the booth and started accepting tickets from each person. One by one they approached the stall, handing in their crisp voucher, and making their way through the gates to pick up snack food and be seated. The sound of kids giggling and adults speaking with a grin in their voice was heartwarming. Memories were being made here time and time again; the atmosphere never changed. She never got tired of seeing happy faces coming to experience the wonders of the Moonlight Circus. A small crescent moon adorned each ticket that she received and stashed away in a box beside her.

It took a good long while before each person who had previously bought a ticket was granted entry. She let out a sigh and sucked in some more smoke. She released a lilac cloud into the evening air. The sky was a dusty orange making way for the black of night. She continued to smoke while idly wondering if a storm was brewing. It seemed as if their best shows were when it was pouring rain and thunder broke through the cheers. The sound of Guinevere’s muffled voice over a speaker broke through the silence she’d been basking in.

“Ladies and gentlemen! I thank you for coming to see our fantastical performers tonight! We hope to amaze you just as every crowd before.” Her words were a cue for Morgana. She laid the cigarette between her lips once more and strode her way into the tent. The tips of her fingers graced over the edge of the tent fabric for a split second. The control panels for the lighting were tucked into another miniature tent attached to the side of the main structure. She could see the sprites flying above and moving the large spotlight from the cameras beside the panels to follow Gwen’s moving figure. The stark white luminescence made her look more ethereal than before. She continued on, cigarette holder still wedged between her thin lips.

“We have an awe-inspiring act for you all!”

“This beautiful lady here did most of the work.”

Her husband quickly added to her dialogue. “Hush my love.” The crowd quietly chuckled.

“It’s true.”

“Pierre!”

“Sorry, sorry!”

The audience roared with more laughter.

Under the dim lighting of the rest of the stage, she could make out the two fluffy skirts of the little girls waiting for their first part in the choreography. One was fidgeting and prancing around in the dark, not only disguised by the lack of light but the cloud from her cigar. The other floated just above the ground, flying around the other body in circles. Morgan placed her fingertips on the switches and pushed them up very slightly. The area brightened enough for the stage to be somewhat visible but kept the two hidden from their awaiting audience.

“Each of our performers is a woman with grace, power, and most of all, a love for their part here.”

Recovering from her husband's unethical interruption, she made her way up to the round platform on the stage. The spotlight followed in sync. She turned suddenly to face the stands, her skirt twirling above her feet.

“We give you our best and only our best!” Gwen spoke into the microphone with glee, her visible scarlet eye piercing the crowd. “The Moonlight Circus has been our pride and joy for many decades. Tonight, we strive to show you exactly why!” She gave them a beautiful motherly smile.

“Now please.”

“Stay seated and enjoy the show!” She and the skull of her husband atop her head spoke in unison. She extended one arm behind her, bent the other in front of her middle and bowed.

“Hey, hey! Careful please!” Pierre screamed as he slipped down slightly. The audience responded with laughter as before. The spotlight shut off and the stage was dim once again, other than the shine of Guinevere’s red cigarette. The crowd went silent. Her footsteps echoed on a different part of the stage. She could very faintly make out dainty shoes running up the steps and hopping into the cannon. One of the two figures was missing from their spot to the side.

Morgan’s fingers danced on the panel, letting excitement coarse through her. She couldn’t fight the adrenaline rush before each performance commenced. She hadn’t been working there for more than two years, but this circus had become her family. Her home. Each person here has proven to her that the impossible is only so if you believe it is. And each show was a testament to how far they’d come. This circus act alone has been a large part of the progression that’s been made between the supernatural world and human society. They’re more than just a tent of sideshow freaks; they’re artists embracing their bodies and talents to better their lives, and many others.

She grips the lever with resolve. She knows that to an outsider they may be passing entertainment. But that was progress by itself. This place is a part of her now. And she wouldn’t have it any other way.

Morgana pushed the handle forward. It clicked in place. The stage lights flicked on in a magnificent spectrum of colors. Gwen’s right hand is extended to the wick of the cannon, holder lighting the end. Her daughter’s tangled mane of hair is just barely visible from the lip. A deafening boom shatters the atmosphere and the show begins.

#original fiction #commisionwork #oc commission #oc #commission #short story #short stories #writing #fiction #gothic #circus #supernatural #monsters #gore

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sofhyuck · 5 years

Text

Teach or Be Taught

Genre: elementary school teacher!Jaehyun, elementary school teacher!reader, fluff, gender neutral

Word Count: 7.2k

Excerpt: “Here, you can lean on my shoulder. You have like forty-five minutes to take a nap.” He scoots a little closer, supplying you with the maximum amount of comfort he can. You thank him quietly, nuzzling into his side while leaning your head on his shoulder. Jaehyun looks down at you, admiring every eyelash, every freckle, every part of you his eyes can reach. He’s never been in love before, but he swears this is what it feels like.

Masterlist

A/N: I tried a different writing style (which is heavily inspired by @dreaminghaos hi i love your writing style sm I aspire to be like you) bc why not???

Day 1 [8:00 am]

First days are the epitome of all things anxiety inducing. Meeting new people, trying to make said new people like you, all while in a new environment: any anti-social person’s worst nightmare. Every first day of school nerves never failed to bubble up in your throat, palms growing sweaty from mild fear. And, right at this moment, you feel as though your heart is going to fall out of your ass. You know this is what you’ve been waiting for, spending years at uni to work yourself up to that coveted teaching certificate. Now, you have that certificate as well as a job to go with it. Speaking of which…

You’re stood in front of the entryway, wringing your hands together, unable to shake yourself free of your anxieties. The door opened, revealing a tall middle aged woman who beckons you over. Slowly you make your way over, wiping your dampened hands on the front of your pants.

“Are you the new second grade teacher?” She inquires, looking you over.

“Ah, yes. My name is Y/n, it’s nice to meet you.” You give her a small bow.

“You’re here bright and early, aren’t you? Come on, I’ll show you to your classroom!” She smiles brightly, holding the door open wider to usher you inside. “I’m Han Ana, Mrs. Han to the kids. I’ve been teaching the fourth grade here for about twenty years now.”

You balk at her revelation, feeling like a child next to her. She leads you through the halls, chatting happily about the school before stopping in front of a room.

“Here, room 202 is all yours. You can situate yourself for now, but there’s an all staff meeting in twenty before the kids get here. It’ll be in the staff lounge downstairs. If you need any help I’m right down the hall in 204!” She leaves you at your classroom and you make your way inside. It’s your typical classroom, small desks in rows with one larger sat in the front. You place your bag and laptop on the front desk and open the shades covering the windows. Sunlight bursts throughout the room as you make your way around, inspecting every inch while rearranging desks where needed.

[8:18 am]

You glance up at the clock, only to find that you have less than two minutes to make it to the staff meeting. You race out the door, nearly falling down the stairs before you finally make it to the lounge. Every pair of eyes is on you as soon as you enter and you flush, ducking your head and sitting down next to Ana at one of the many round tables placed precariously around the room.

The staff meeting doesn’t last very long and you’re left with a good half hour before you need to get back to your classroom. Unsure as to what you should do next, you glance nervously around the table you’re sat at. All the unfamiliar faces make your head spin, each of them in their own conversations. Just as you’re about to get up and leave, Ana perks up.

“Oh, right! This is our new teacher, Y/n! They’re taking over for Mr. Park.”

“Thank god, that old man was really getting on my nerves.” A voice pipes up from across the table, pulling laughter from your coworkers.

“You look rather young, Y/n, how old are you?”

“I’m twenty-four. Just graduated a few months ago.” You flush as everyone gawks at you.

“Looks like you’re no longer our youngest teacher, Jaehyun. Think you’re ok with that?”

“I can live with it.” A deep voice chuckles a few seats away from you, and you turn to find the source. His eyes are already on yours and he greets you with a kind smile. “I’m Jung Jaehyun, previous youngest staff in the school. I’m also teaching the second grade.” You give him a soft smile in return, cheeks flushed slightly at his attention.

“It must be nice to finally have someone around your age, Jaehyun. I bet it can be tiring to hang around us old geezers all the time.” Ana pipes up.

“Ahhh, you guys aren’t so bad.” He teased, dimples poking at his cheeks. “But I’m excited to get to know our new addition.”

“We should probably head back to our classrooms. The kids should be arriving in about ten minutes now.” You stand up with everyone else, following them out the door. You feel a light nudge to your left, and turn to find Jaehyun walking beside you.

“What room are you in, newbie?”

“202. What about you?”

“Ah, damn I’m down here in 110. I was hoping we’d be on the same floor. Oh well, guess I’ll see you at lunch.” He grins before turning the corner, leaving you with a parting wave.

[11:50 am]

You’re exhausted yet probably the happiest you’ve ever been. Your students are absolutely adorable and seem to get along as well. The morning was filled with name games and little get-to-know-yous. Now, as you walk your students in a single file line to the cafeteria, you’re sure that you know all of their names by heart. They wave goodbye once they’re settled in the cafeteria and you make your way towards the staff lounge. Upon entering, you scan the room to find Jaehyun sat at a table in the center of the room. His gaze lifts from his lunchbox to rest on you and a smile tugs at the corner of his lips. You give him a short wave, going to grab your lunch from the refrigerator before sitting beside him.

“How are your kids? Any trouble makers?” He probes once you’re comfortably seated.

“Oh, they’re all so wonderful! I can already tell this year is going to be amazing!”

“That’s great! I knew as soon as I saw you that your students would love you.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” You flush, feeling small under his gaze.

“I mean, you just have this air of comfort about you? Plus, the kids always take better to a pretty face.” Your blush only deepens and you laugh nervously, gaze shifting to your lunch.

“What about you, Jaehyun? How long have you been working here?”

“This is my fourth year.” He hums happily, leaning back in his chair. “I’ve never had any issues with my students, although I do get a few proposals every year.”

“I’m not surprised.” You laugh, shovelling rice into your mouth. Jaehyun quirks an eyebrow at you, a smirk playing at his lips.

“I think you might give me some competition for most marriage proposals.”

“Hmmm, we’ll see. Although i’m not sure that’s a title we should fight for.”

“It’s nothing but a friendly competition, Y/n.” You shake your head, smiling slightly while packing up your lunch.

“I’ll see you later Jaehyun.”

“See ya!” He gives you a small nod, turning back to his lunch.

Day 6 [7:00 pm]

Jaehyun oftentimes wonders how and why he’s friends with the idiotic group of children he considers his closest friends. But now, sat on the floor of Doyoung’s nearly empty apartment with cookie crumbs covering the front of his shirt, he understands that he himself is one of those children.

“Hyung, I thought you were supposed to be mildly more responsible than the rest of us. It’s been like, what, a week since you moved in and you’re still not done unpacking?” Mark snickers from beside Jaehyun.

“Some of us have actual jobs that require them to be available most of the time, Mark.” Doyoung quips back, shoving the younger at the back of his head.

“Dude you can literally ask any of us for help, you know that right?” Johnny chimes in.

“Like I’d let any of you touch my belongings. Besides, you guys won’t know where to put anything.”

“Oh ye of little faith. Come on, why don’t we help right now!”

“Hold up.” Jaehyun sits straight up, brushing the crumbs from his shirt. “This is not what I agreed to! I’m exhausted from dealing with the kids all week, I don’t need any more exertion.”

Mumbles of agreement chime from around the room, Doyoung physically relaxing knowing that his belongings are no longer at risk of being tampered with; at least for now, that is. Jaehyun reaches for the pack of chocolate chip cookies in Sicheng’s grasp, nearly having to wrestle it out of his greedy hands. Sicheng finally releases the pack, causing Jaehyun to fall back on his ass earning a chorus of laughter from his friends.

“How are the kids this year anyways, Jae? Any wedding bells ringing?”

“Not yet, Tae.” He chuckles.

“Didn’t you mention that you were getting a new teacher?”

“Yea replacing that old asshole, right?”

“Ah, yea, they’re our new youngest staff member.” Jaehyun revealed.

“Ooooh are they cute?”

“They must be. Look! His ears are turning red!” The room once again erupts into laughter at the expense of Jaehyun. He looks around, gaze settling on a paper book that he then throws at whoever’s closest.

“Ow, c’mon man.” Yuta mumbles, rubbing his stomach.

“We’re just teasing you dude. I mean, it’s been like four years since you last dated someone, it’s about time you got back into the game.”

Jaehyun rolls his eyes in response, digging through the nearly empty pack of cookies in hopes of distracting himself. So what if he had been single for awhile? What was it that people said, married to your job? In fact, his last relationship ended right after he got his current job, something about him constantly smelling like baby powder now. Since then, he hasn’t really bothered to start a new relationship. Out of the odd single mother or father, Jaehyun doesn’t really come across people his age. He traded that part of his life to be surrounded by seven to eight year old children instead.

“Do you have a picture of them?”

“Uh, maybe, hold on a sec.” Jaehyun opens his photo app only to be faced with the picture of you that he most definitely had not been smiling at on his way over to Doyoung’s apartment. It’s a picture of you when you were on recess duty together. The two of you had been stood talking to one another, both keeping an eye on the children, when one of your students had ran over and tugged lightly on the side of your pants. You had immediately knelt down to be eye level with the child, asking her what was wrong. Blushing, the girl brought out a flower from behind her back, holding it out to you. You smiled gratefully and reached out to take the gift from her small hands. Jaehyun couldn’t help himself and immediately pulled out his phone, snapping a quick picture before turning away, feigning innocence. You had caught him, of course, and immediately demanded he send the picture to you.

“Hmmm, yea they’re cute.” Mark’s voice sounds directly next to Jaehyun’s ear. The boy cranes his neck to look over the elder’s shoulder for a peak at his phone screen.

“Oi, back off.” Jaehyun nudges Mark, turning his phone to show the rest of the group the photo. They hum in approval, a few exchanging nods and giving Jaehyun a sly thumbs up. Jaehyun feels his ears burn and he quickly snatches his phone back.

“Have you made a move yet?”

“Knowing our Jaehyun he probably already has.”

“Leave me aloooone.” Jaehyun whines, fully prepared to throw another book at the group.

“Sorry Jae, it’s just so fun to see you ears turn red. It’s so rare that we get to see you all flustered.”

“You’re not helping Johnny.”

“I know.”

Jaehyun decides that he really needs new friends who aren’t mentally, or physically, seven years old.

Day 33 [10:00 am]

A knock sounds at your classroom door, causing you to halt your current lesson. Your students immediately begin tittering amongst each other as you walk over to open the door, revealing a bashful Jaehyun stood in your doorway. You can hear your students shuffling in their seats, hoping to catch a glimpse of whoever is at the door.

“Hey Y/n, I was wondering if you had any extra white board markers? My last one just ran out in the middle of class and I’ve been meaning to buy new ones but I keep forgetting.”

“Sure, Jaehyun, give me a second.” Jaehyun follows you into your classroom, a chorus of “ooooh’s” from your students echoing around the room. You immediately shush them, flushing at their teasing. You reach into your desk drawer, pulling out a new marker and handing it to him.

“Thanks, Y/n.” He smiles, the classroom again bursting with teasing sounds and you usher Jaehyun out the door. It takes you almost five minutes to calm down the kids, although they continue to bring up Mr. Jung until the lunch bell rings. Once you drop the class off at the cafeteria, you heave a sigh of relief, happy to be free of their taunting. Jaehyun greets you in the staff’s lounge, sliding a rice cake over to you.

“What’s this for?”

“A little thank you for the new marker.”

“Ah really, it was no problem. But why didn’t you just go to someone on your floor.”

“Why, I wanted to visit you, of course! You’re worth the perilous trek.”

You roll your eyes. “Ah yes, the treacherous single flight of stairs, how brave of you.”

Jaehyun points his chopsticks at you, dropping a piece of chicken in the process. “Hey, you never know when you could trip and injure yourself. People fall and break their necks on those death traps all the time.”

“Lovely, Jaehyun. As if I wasn’t already afraid of falling down stairs.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll catch you if you fall.” He grins, reaching over to pat you on the head. You swat away his hand, ready to reprimand him for messing up your hair when Ana pulls out the chair next to you, calling for both of your attention.

“What are you two lovebirds up to?”

“L-lovebirds?” You choke out, eyes widening at her question.

“Haven’t you heard, you two are the new hot couple of the school.” She giggles, taking a bite out of her egg sandwich. “Even the students are gossiping! My, it’s so exciting, we haven’t had a school couple since Suzy and Haseul left.”

“We - I mean we’re not a couple…”

“Oh but you will be soon, I call it.”

Jaehyun, noticing your discomfort, cuts her off. “C’mon Ana, give it a rest for now. We’re just trying to eat our lunch in peace.”

She raises her arms in surrender, returning her focus back to her sandwich, voicing her complaints to the room. “I swear, the school lunches just seem to be worsening every year, more and more parents are making lunches for their kids.”

“It’s not that bad, they’re still better than anything my school provided when I was a kid.”

“Hm, little baby Jaehyunie must’ve been so cute.” You tease, pinching his cheeks.

“Ay, come on now.” He whines, ears turning red at your ministrations.

“Well, I better head out now, you kids have fun.” Ana stands up, wiping the crumbs from her hands.

You both bid her farewell, Jaehyun’s fingers tapping a soft beat onto your wrist.

“I’m sorry if all that coupley stuff made you uncomfortable. We’re all kind of like a big family here so most of us are used to that kind of teasing. You’ll probably get used to it, but if you ever feel uncomfortable again just let me know, ok?” He gives you a warm smile, his hand now settled over top your own. You smile, thanking him in return.

[3:50 pm]

You’re sat in the entryway to the school, one of your students sat beside you. You’re attempting to distract her, but it’s been twenty minutes since her mother was meant to pick her up and you can tell that she’s growing nervous.

“Mommy’s running a little late, Bora, don’t worry.” You attempt to soothe her, patting her lightly on the head. “Here, I have some markers and paper, why don’t you draw me a picture of your family?” She smiles at your suggestion, nodding happily while reaching for the supplies. You ask her about each figure drawn, attempting to engage her and keep her attention off of her absent mother.

“What are you two still doing out here?” You look up to see Jaehyun stood over you, smiling down at the two of you.

“I’m drawing, Mr. Jung! Look, there’s me and my little brother and my mommy!”

“Wow, you’re quite the artist!” He crouches down in front of you, leaning on your knees to get a better view of her drawings.

“Thank you!” She giggles. “Teacher’s keeping me company while I wait for my mommy to come pick me up.”

“Oh, well that’s very kind of teacher!”

“Yea! Teacher’s the best!” Bora leans over to hug you tightly and you laugh, wrapping your arms around her.

“Yea, they really are.” Jaehyun gazes up at the two of you, completely enamored. Your eyes sparkle in the sunlight, happiness radiating off of you.

“Mr. Jung!” Bora cries, poking him in the cheek. Leaning in closer to Jaehyun, she beckons him in closer. He leans in and she cups her hands around her mouth. “Are you and teacher dating?” She questions in a poor attempt at a whisper.

“No, Bora, at least not yet.” He whispers.

“But I want to marry you Mr. Jung.” She pouts.

“Maybe in a few years, ok?’ He chuckles. He grins up at you slyly, holding up two fingers. His second confession.

“Bora, baby I am so sorry, traffic was terrible!” A young woman comes rushing over to you, immediately sweeping her child into her arms.

“That’s ok mommy! Teacher and Mr. Jung kept me company.”

Her mother turns to face you, relief evident on her face. “Thank you so much for taking care of Bora, and I’m sorry for being so late.”

“That’s ok!” You smiled. “Just give me a call next time, you should have my number.”

“Right, of course, again I’m so sorry. I’ll be on time from now on.”

“Have nice night, ma’am! Bora, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“Bye teacher! Bye Mr. Jung!”

Jaehyun gets up from his spot on the ground to stand beside you, both of you waving goodbye to the little girl. He can’t help but to gaze at you, heart practically on his sleeve. The way you treat your students so kindly, always sure to show them affection all while keeping an appropriately firm hand.

“Looks like we can go home—”

“Do you want to get something for dinner—” You both speak at the same time, laughing following shortly after.

“Isn’t it too early for dinner?” You question, checking the time on your phone.

“Factor in travel time plus walking around a little, we’ll find a restaurant right before the dinner rush.” Figuring why not? you nod in agreement, heading back inside to gather your belongings.

[4:45 pm]

So, maybe it is still a little too early to have dinner. And by a little too early you mean almost a full hour before you normally would eat. Jaehyun doesn’t seem to mind, however, happily pulling you along the fairly empty streets. You look upon him fondly, following him wherever he goes. Not that you had much choice considering how firmly his hand grasps yours.

It’s inevitable, the way your heart flutters whenever his gaze locks with yours. Sure, the boys you had met in the past were attractive, but Jaehyun’s pure beauty is utterly incomparable. Not to mention his affinity with children and all around gentille manner. If you were being completely honest, Jaehyun is your ideal man, and he’s practically fallen right into your lap. Now if only you could act upon your feelings…

“How about chicken and beer?” Jaehyun suggests, stopping in front of a restaurant.

“Jae, it’s still so early, I’m barely hungry!”

“Fine, why don’t we get takeout instead and then head back to my apartment?”

“Hmmm, trying to get me all to yourself Mr. Jung?”

“Oh god Y/n, please don’t call me that.” He laughs, pulling you inside the restaurant. “Now come on, what do you want to order?”

[5:30 pm]

Jaehyun’s apartment is almost excruciatingly neat, something you honestly didn’t expect from the boy. His classroom is almost always in a state of disarray, a trait you had assumed translated over into his home life. Instead, you’re faced with pristine white walls, not a single book out of place, all stacked neatly on the shelves lining the walls. Your shoes are lined up in the entryway, inked drawings hanging around the apartment. You’re stood gazing at one of said drawings when Jaehyun comes to stand behind you after placing your food on the counter.

“These are all done by my friend Taeyong.” He hums, placing his hands on your shoulders.

“He’s quite talented, does he do commissions?”

“Oh definitely, I bet I could even get you a discount!”

You laugh, pulling him back over to the counter. He grabs some plates from his cabinets as you unload the chicken. Each plate is decorated with a floral design around the brim, a fact you’re sure to take note of. You take a bite of chicken, humming at the savory taste. Meanwhile, Jaehyun’s hands are getting sweaty. It has been so long since Jaehyun dated someone, let alone invited someone over to his apartment who wasn’t a part of his friend group. Especially someone he held such a strong attraction to. He found himself unable to meet your gaze, quite the 180 from his usually confident demeanor.

“Jaehyun, did you know that your ears turn red fairly easily?”

Jaehyun immediately drops his chopsticks, bringing his hands to cover his ears. Of course his ears are red, they always are around you. You laugh at his reaction, muttering a soft cute as you turn back to your chicken.

“I’m not cute,” he pouts, “I’m extremely handsome.”

“You can be both, Jae. In fact, you are.” Jaehyun’s hands are still over his ears, fully aware that they’ve only grown redder. “Eat your chicken, it’s gonna grow cold.”

Day 76 [8:30 am]

“Oh, Jaehyun! Just the teacher I’ve been looking for!” Jaehyun abruptly stops his conversation with one of the third grade teachers. He smiles, turning to face you.

“What’s up?”

“I’m trying to take the kids on a field trip to the science museum but the principal told me I need another teacher to come with me since I’m new. I was hoping you’d be ok with coming along. Our classes get along well too.”

Jaehyun thinks it’s rather odd that the principal is requiring you to bring another teacher along. He didn’t have to do that during his first year. He chooses to shrug it off for now, exchanging his confusion for relief. Thank god you were comfortable enough around him to ask for his help.

“I’d be glad to! I take my classes there every year anyways.”

“Oh, thank you so much, you’re a real lifesaver!”

“Of course, we can discuss the details later at lunch today, yea?

You give him a quick hug before dashing off to your classroom.

“Aren’t you guys dating yet?”

“Not yet.” Jaehyun smiles softly, gazing at your retreating figure.

Day 82 [8:30 am]

The students arrive half an hour earlier than usual so that they have enough time to explore the museum. You and Jaehyun are ushering your students onto the bus, chaperones already assigned and sat with their groups. The final student gets on the bus and you and Jaehyun follow. Considering that there are two classrooms plus chaperones on the bus, there are only two seats left, sat next to one another. Jaehyun allows you to sit first, giving you the window seat, and promptly plops himself down next to you.

He leans down to whisper in your ear. “I heard you got another confession yesterday. What does that make, five?”

“Are you still keeping track of that?” You snort. “I’m not even counting anymore.”

“Of course, I need to keep my status as most popular teacher!”

“Well if you must know, I’ve actually gotten six confessions.”

“I thought you stopped keeping track?” He pokes your side, teasing.

“You’re just jealous I have more confessions than you.” You huff.

“…maybe so.” Jaehyun sits back with a pout. “Just wait a few weeks, I’ll take you over.” He gazes over at you out of the corner of his eye, hoping to have pulled a reaction out of you. You’re already looking at him, smiling stupidly at his sulking figure. Jaehyun’s heart flutters, an almost foreign feeling after going so long without a relationship. If there’s one thing his friends are actually right about, it’s that he doesn’t get out enough. Whenever they ask him to hang out to drink, he opts to stay in, worried that one of his student’s parents might see him. Not an ideal situation, seeing your child’s teacher stumbling around in a drunken stupor. It had happened once during his first year of teaching, and Jaehyun is not about to let that happen again. Thus, he rarely has the ability to meet new people, let alone a potential lover. Then here comes you, the cute new teacher who steals his heart in less than five minutes. Damn his vulnerability.

[12:00 pm]

The students have congregated at the museum cafeteria, slightly exhausted from their morning spent running around the museum but still excited nonetheless. Jaehyun is sat next to you, both of your groups situated around the table. Happy chatter flits around the room, making it hard to hold a proper conversation. Jaehyun is forced to lean into your side so that you are able to hear one another, not that either of you mind. A light tug at the back of his shirt calls for Jaehyun to turn around, one of his students stood behind him.

“What’s up buddy?” He laughs lightly tickling the boy’s stomach. The boy giggles, breaking off into a long winded spiel about how exciting his day has been so far. Jaehyun diligently listens to every word, reacting when necessary and answering all of the boys questions to the best of his ability. You can’t help to gaze fondly at the two of them, heart fluttering at the sight (but then again, when doesn’t your heart flutter when Jaehyun is around).

“You’re my favorite teacher!” The boy finally states, hugging Jaehyun before skipping away. Jaehyun turns to you giving you a pointed look and a smirk.

“That does not count.” You state, rolling your eyes.

“Oh it totally does, this competition is for who’s the favorite teacher and he said I’m his favorite.”

“Yes but we’re only counting confessions.”

“Hey, we never made a rule like that.”

“Fine, I’ll count it. But only because you’ll still be behind me.”

“Only by one.” He teases, leaning over to snatch a piece of meat from your plate. You swat away his hand, Jaehyun laughing jovially in response.

[1:00 pm]

“All right kids, get back with your chaperones, we only have a few more hours left at the museum!” A chorus of groans sound throughout the museum cafeteria, your students not quite yet ready to leave. You round up your own group of kids, counting meticulously to make sure they’re all still present. The students are all fluttering about, fully energized from their lunch. A few have taken to hanging off your legs, giggling madly.

“How much sugar did you monkeys eat?” You laugh, leaning down to gently pry them off. “Come on, don’t you want to go back into the museum? We still haven’t gone to the weather room, I heard there’s a cool lightning exhibit.” Your students immediately let go of your legs, now wanting to explore the museum as soon as possible.

“Y/n!” You look up to see Jaehyun and his group of students coming towards you. “Heard you’re going to the weather room, we haven’t gone either and were hoping we could tag along.”

“I don’t know kids, do we want Mr. Jung to join us, I heard he’s a little smelly.”

“Hey! I am not smelly!”

Your students all giggle, taking great amusement in your back and forth.

“I think we should let them join, teacher! Mr. Jung is really handsome.” Bora sounds, a few of the other students in your group agreeing.

“Alright Mr. Jung, you can join our group but only because you’re so handsome.” You laugh, his ears reddening in embarrassment.

“Wow thank you guys so much.” He grins shyly. “Shall we go?”

You nod, gesturing for your students to follow close behind. Jaehyun sidles up to you, bumping your arm with his.

“Do you really think I’m smelly?” He whispers, half joking but also half worried you’ll say yes.

“Only a little,” you tease, “but, like, not in a bad way.”

“Ayyy, what’s that supposed to mean?”

“I mean, like, I guess…”

“I guess…” He repeats, egging you on.

“You smell nice.” You mumble, face flushed at your confession.

“Cute.” Jaehyun grins. “You smell nice too, in case you were wondering.”

“I wasn’t, but thanks for the affirmation.”

You turn into the weather room, giving your students free reign to walk around while you keep a close eye on them. Jaehyun stations himself across the room so that you have the whole area covered, but that doesn’t keep him from shooting dumb faces at you from time to time.

“Teacher!” One of your students bounds up to you, beckoning for you to crouch down to his height.

“What’s up Taegeun?”

“Is Mr. Jung your boyfriend?” He asks shyly, fiddling with his hands.

“No, why do you ask?”

He perks up at your answer. “Good, because I want to be your boyfriend.” He states proudly, puffing out his chest.

“Hmmm, I’m not really looking for a relationship right now.”

“That’s ok, I can wait.” He says, running back to his group of friends.

You stand back up and make eye contact with Jaehyun. You give him a smirk, holding up seven fingers. He glares back, shaking his head in mock anger at your popularity. You’ve stolen half the school’s hearts, including his own.

[2:35 pm]

The bus is waiting in front of the museum, a few students already sat on the vehicle. You’re standing by the doors, keeping count of the students entering the bus. Ticking off each student as they pass, you finally mark off the last one and make your way onto the bus. Jaehyun gestures for you to sit beside him, scooting over slightly to give you a little more room. You drop down into the seat, exhaustion radiating off of your slumped body.

“The kids tuckered you out, huh?”

“Mmm, just a little.” You hum, eyelids growing heavy.

“Here, you can lean on my shoulder. You have like forty-five minutes to take a nap.” He scoots a little closer, supplying you with the maximum amount of comfort he can. You thank him quietly, nuzzling into his side while leaning your head on his shoulder. Jaehyun looks down at you, admiring every eyelash, every freckle, every part of you his eyes can reach. He’s never been in love before, but he swears this is what it feels like.

Day 97 [9:00 pm]

Another Friday, and Jaehyun once again finds himself sat on Doyoung’s, now fully furnished, apartment. Even though there is a couch, Jaehyun arrived later than everyone else, thus he was left with the floor. His back is flush against the couch and Sicheng’s foot is currently kicking his head.

“Sicheng I’m going to kill you.” He snaps, reaching up to grab the boy’s foot.

“Only if you say you’ll go out with us tonight!”

“You know why I don’t want to!”

“Oh come on, Jae. It happened once years ago, what are the chances it’ll happen again?”

“Well that’s what I thought but look what happened.”

“Dude come on it’s been so long since you went out with us.” Johnny calls out, joining Sicheng in kicking the boy’s side. “Literally just come out with us this one night, we’ll never ask you again.”

Jaehyun hesitates.

“Look, if one of your parent’s sees you we’ll, I don’t know, we’ll pay for your dinner for a month.”

“Wait hold on we’re not agree—”

“Deal.” The thought of being seen by one of his student’s parents is terrifying, yes, but the thought of free dinner for a whole month far outways that potential embarrassment.

[10:00 pm]

Thankfully, his friends choose a more bar-like atmosphere instead of a full fledged club, knowing he probably wouldn’t be up for the high speed environment. There’s loud music playing, various games strewn around the building.

“We’re gonna head over to the pool table, you up for it?”

“I think I’m just gonna hang here for awhile, I’ll catch up with you later.”

A few of his friends head over to the pool table, leaving him at the bar. Jaehyun takes a sip of his drink, eyes scanning the room. He’s not really sure what he’s looking for; there’s not really much to find in the mass of sweaty bodies. His gaze travels to his friends making a bit of a scene by the pool table and he chuckles lowly, amused by their idiocy. He quickly looks away, however, because Ten is about to climb over the table, ready to grab Doyoung by the collar. Not a sight he wants to see. Scanning the room, he looks past the seating area, only to do a double take. There, sat on top of one of the many square tables, is a completely inebriated you, head thrown back in laughter at something your friend just said. The ends of his lips curl up in a smile and he observes your figure for a moment. Downing the rest of his drink, he places the empty glass on the bartop and stands to make his way over to you. Your friends must take notice of his towering figure because they all start frantically waving their arms at you, gesturing towards his approaching figure. You look up with a start and, upon seeing him, abruptly climb off the table. He rushes over to you, stabilizing your shaky figure.

“Mr. Jung, I did not expect to see you here. Like, never.” You giggled happily, poking his cheeks.

“Ah, Y/n, how much have you had to drink?”

“You know how many of the kids have confessed to me?” “Yea?”

“That many.”

“Holy shit.” He mumbled, studying your face. He turns to look at your friends who are all not so subtly checking him out. They turn away at his gaze, tittering amongst themselves before he calls for their attention. “Can I steal Y/n away from you guys?”

“Of course!” One of them giggles. “In fact you can steal me away too if you’d like.”

“Sorry, I only need Y/n.” He smiles kindly, already wrapping an arm around your waist to pull you away..

“Keep our baby safe!” They call after your retreating figures.

“Where are we going?” You mutter, clutching onto his bicep.

“We’re going to get some water into your system and then I’m taking you home.”

“Aw c’mon, you should have some fun! I know you haven’t been out since your first year. Have you even had something to drink yet?”

“I have and right now your safety is more important than me having fun.”

“Ayyy, I’m not gonna let you not have fun because of me. Are your friends here? Can I meet them?”

“Y/n I should really be getting you—”

“Ayo Jae, who’s the cutie?”

“Johnny you dumbass that’s that new teacher he’s been pining after.”

Before Jaehyun could steer you away from his rowdy group of friends you break out of his grasp, heading over to the pool table.

“Shit.” He mumbles under his breath, jogging over to you. Yuta’s already got his arm around you, engaging you in an animate conversation about god knows what. He sighs heavily, pulling you from his friend’s grasp, much to Yuta’s protests.

“Come on let’s get you some water.”

“Jae you can leave ‘em with us while you get the water. We want to get to know your new coworker anyways.” Yuta says with a wink, pulling you back into his side. Knowing he’s fighting a losing battle, Jaehyun hurries to get you a glass of water so that he could rescue you from his friends as soon as possible.

Through your haze you barely register the men surrounding you. They chat happily, asking you about work and, most importantly, your relationship with Jaehyun. You don’t take the questions particularly seriously, too drunk to actually pay attention to what they’re saying. An arm wraps around your waist and you turn your head slightly to find Jaehyun holding a glass of water out to you.

“Here, drink.” He commands softly, raising his eyebrows. You part your lips, too hazy to reach out and take the glass. Jaehyun rolls his eyes but brings the glass to your lips nonetheless. Slowly, he tilts it back, examining how your lips close around the rim as your eyes close. Your cheeks are rosy, this time not out of embarrassment, and your hair’s a bit of a mess. Still beautiful, though.

After a few sips your eyelids flutter open, signalling that you’ve had your fill. He lowers the glass, eyes locked, time at a standstill. Slowly, he raises his hand to run a thumb over your bottom lip, teasing at the plump flesh. Before either of you can make a move, Mark stumbles into Jaehyun, pushing him into you in the process. You giggle as Jaehyun attempts to steady you, glaring at the younger.

“Ok, time to get you home.” He says sternly, pulling you away from his friends.

“Ok.” You giggle, waving goodbye cutely. His friends all coo over you and Jaehyun has to keep himself from doing the same. Happy to have finally gotten you out of the vicinity of the bar, Jaehyun quickly hails a cab and pulls you in after him. You situate yourself as close to him as possible, snuggling into his warmth. You’re slightly more sober now although still a little hazy, and Jaehyun is like a walking space heater. A heavy sigh falls past his lips but he still wraps his arm around you, basking in the comfort you provide.

“You gotta wake up now Y/n. We’re at your place.”

You hum sleepily in response, clambering out of the car. Jaehyun practically has to carry you up to your apartment, making sure you drink more water and wash up before you flop onto your bed. Smiling fondly, he pats your head and leaves your apartment. He wonders if you’ll remember anything tomorrow morning.

Day 100 [3:20 pm]

“Ok kids, we’ll have reading time for the last ten minutes.” Your students all rush to pull out their books and you give out a small sigh of relief, happy that you’ll be able to relax. Before you can get too comfortable, however, a knock sounds at the door. Groaning under your breath you stand up to open it. You’re immediately faced with Jaehyun and his entire class.

“What’s this for?” You gasp, stepping back to let them in.

“Do you know how many days it’s been since you started working here?”

“No?”

“100!” He claps excitedly, grabbing a cake from one of his students, a big 100 written in frosting on top. Both your students and his cheer happily, mostly at the sight of the cake but also because of you, and you gladly take the cake, cheeks turning red.

“You have pretty poor timing, Jaehyun,” you whisper into his ear. “The kids have to leave soon and they’re not going to be happy once they find out they won’t get any cake.”

“I know, I was hoping it’d be a boost in my popularity.” He said with a wink.

“You’re the one who brought the cake, we’re both going down with this one.” You say pointedly, poking him in the chest.

Your students intermingle amongst themselves, books long forgotten in all the excitement. After a little chatting the bell rings and your students race out the door. Thankful that they weren’t too upset by the lack of cake, you make your way back to your room only to find Jaehyun already there, cake cut into slices. He holds a plate out to you, gesturing for you to sit on the desk beside him. Gratefully, you take the plate and sit down, digging into the cake.

“Oh my god this is delicious.” You moan, savoring in the taste of the fluffy dessert.

“Mmm, I know right? Paris Baguette really knows what they’re doing.” He hums happily in agreement. “You know, two of my students have confessed to me since the museum.”

“Damn, so we’re tied now huh.” You pout jokingly.

“You’re about to be winning again.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” You question, turning to face him.

“I know this is supposed to be a competition and everything, but you’re probably going to win anyways—”

“Hey we’re tied right now—”

“Let me finish ok?” You shut up, letting him finish his mini speech. “As I was saying before being so rudely interrupted,” you roll your eyes at that, “We’re not going to be tied anymore because I’m going to confess to you. Or, well, I am confessing to you.”

“What? Are you serious?”

“Oh come on Y/n, it’s obvious we like each other, the whole school has been waiting practically with baited breath for us to get together!”

“No I know all that. I’m just surprised that you’re confessing so early into the year! You were taking this competition so seriously I thought you’d make me be the one to do it.”

“I can’t believe you Y/n.” He scoffs, leaning back on his hands.

“What? A competition’s a competition. Oh well, looks like I’m winning again.” You shrug, turning back to your cake, a teasing grin stuck on your face. Jaehyun sits there for a minute, shocked at your confession. Once you finish your cake, however, Jaehyun gets a brilliant idea. A mischievous smile creeps across his face and you stare at him in mild fear.

“What exactly are you thinking of doi—” You get cut off by Jaehyun shoving the rest of the cake in your face.

“You’re dead Mr. Jung.” Wiping the cake off of your face, you move to wipe it all over his face. But, before you get the chance, Jaehyun places his lips over yours in a deep kiss. Your lips move together in harmony, the kiss slightly sticky from all the cake residue. Eventually, he pulls away, grinning at you with cake crumbs and frosting covering his lips.

“Sweet.” He chuckles, licking his lips. You grab his cheeks with your cake covered hands and smoosh them together.

“Yes,” you laugh, “very.”

#and with that i may never write again #nct #nct au #nct scenario #nct imagine #jung jaehyun #jaehyun #jaehyun imagine #jaehyun scenario #jaehyun au #nct fluff #jaehyun fluff #nct teacher au #jaehyun teacher au

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darkkept · 4 years

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👶 Would your muse be a good parent? Do they want to be a parent, if they are not already? (for every single muse on this blog. every single one. why can i ask such a large request? 1) i know what you're about, son. 2) i'm me and u love me : 3c) // @craterkissed // symbol meme. // accepting.

Aerith: I mean, canon shows that Aerith can be great with kids, which is something I appreciate the remake for showing. While she struggles with connecting with others, you see the sense of empathy inherent in being a Cetra through her interactions with Marlene, and it adds a nice layer to this otherwise standoffish and emotionally distant woman. That said... That isn’t necessarily maternal? She has no aspirations in that direction, at any rate. Her own childhood spat out someone who bucks at the idea of introducing a child to the world she’s been dragged through. She might settle for being the cool aunt for the children of loved ones, but refuses to have a child of her own or bring up one.

Aqua: She kind of already is? Like I think there’s a very real sense of her being very motherly and mature in spite of her youth, especially in her interactions with Ven and other youngsters in the narrative. She makes a good mother figure to them, even for all her personal flaws. In spite of that, she still has a lot of issues to work through, so while I think she would like to have a family of her own someday, it’s a long ways off and unlikely to happen before she has a handle on her own problems. She doesn’t want to be the kind of parent her own children have to heal from, like her own father figure was to her, however accidentally.

Stray: There’s potential there to be a good mom, as she’s already largely taken that role for others in the past. However, that skill was largely born from age-inappropriate parentification, and stands in stark contrast to several of Stray’s other desires and goals. As a result, she’s largely ambivalent to the thought of motherhood, lacking both a partner and a clear future to consider the possibility with. She’s pretty young at the start of the narrative, and has plenty of time in the years to come to decide whether it’s something she’d be interested in pursuing with whoever she might marry.

Braska: By all accounts, he was a great father. He stood loyally by Yuna for her early childhood, encouraged her, did his best to make things safe and loving for his child who was going to face so much in life. I truly believe he was a wonderful father in contrast to Jecht -- but he was an imperfect man. He was willing to sacrifice it all to leave a legacy Yuna could be proud of, in the hopes she might live free of the fear and sorrow they had both faced in the wake of her mother’s death. The problem is, he dreamt up a solution that left Yuna lonelier than before. You can read his sacrifice a lot of ways, but it’s effect on his daughter was clear. He was a wonderful father, but he failed where it counted in some regards.

Crowe: Like Aerith, Crowe would be most comfortable in the role of ‘cool aunt’ over being a mom. There is no love lost between Crowe and kids, who she largely regards as loud and annoying in the majority and halfway tolerable in the rare case one doesn’t earn her ire. She’s definitely down to be the badass rebellious honorary aunt to any children her friends might have, but without being really responsible for them or a good role model. Honestly Kleffy and I have a verse where she’s godmother to a tiny Galahdian namesake and it goes... Poorly. Big Crowe is the voice of impulse that Little Crowe is trying very hard to ignore.

Eraqus: Just hit me with the hard ball questions, damn. So to preface this, I understand fandom has some STRONG opinions on Eraqus as a parent, and I disagree with both camps. He wasn’t some verbally or emotionally abusive pillar of stone who intentionally set his students up for failure. He also wasn’t some angelic and always right patriarch who did no wrong until Xehanort meddled in their little Paradise. I think he did his best, but was ignorant and had a lot of pride that put him at odds with what his students needed or were, but he tried to love them regardless. What we see in BBS is a worst case scenario in terms of his direct actions past a certain point, and while these do show his deep zealotry for light, I think it’s not totally fair to hold them up as what he was as a parent in general. His flaws lie more in how he put down darkness to Terra’s detriment, how he so coddled Ventus in spite of his want for a life like his friends had, and basically setting up Aqua to follow his path and past mistakes, not in a clearly difficult decision he made thinking the world would literally end otherwise. He was wrong to do what he wanted to do to Ven, but I think his problems as a parent aren’t reflected in that. I have a whole meta about this on my old blog I’ll have to rb because my feelings on Eraqus as a father are really long and complicated having mused both he and one of his kids.

Invi: Invi will be the first to admit she’s got no particular skill with children. She’s a stern leader and demands the best from her union, and shows some deeper understanding of how to communicate with the youths in Anguis, but without the soft moments that can make such a relationship meaningful or deeper. Even with her younger siblings, she tends to push them a little too far, and is downright competitive with them when it comes to having the Master’s time or attention. She lacks the patience or understanding for good parenting, and lacks any interest in being a mother. The most she might aim for is to take on a student of her own someday, but it’d be just that: a teacher and student relationship.

Isa: No. Isa does not delude himself about fatherhood. He has spent too long grappling with the emotional and mental scars his own angry father left behind to even consider becoming that to a child. He knows his temperament and track record do not paint an optimistic picture, or even a halfway decent one. He has no inclination towards the idea, and in fact balks at it. His history with Roxas and Xion alone show he is awful with children. Even allowing for changes as a Somebody, it just means he gains the self-awareness to look back on his actions and his own youth and say the cycle stops with him in totality.

Kokoro: I mean, the kid she’s helped raise the last ten years isn’t complaining. Despite occasional friction that comes with adolescence, Mads clearly adores her adoptive mom, and never really gripes about her as a mother, just a cryptic seeker of knowledge. Kokoro herself understands she can make a lot of mistakes in her life, but parenting cannot be one of them -- Not like her father made mistakes with her. While she’s struggled at times in suddenly being responsible for a complete stranger, Kokoro has overall enjoyed the experience of motherhood. I’d say of my lady muses, she is the most prepared for it, and would ultimately enjoy having more children in the future, whether by adoption as with Mads or trying for biochildren with a partner.

Roxas: He is a child. That said, in at least one far future setting my friends and I have, he’s a good Master to his students but clearly disinterested in being an actual dad. He can hardly handle himself some days, why would he ever want to be in charge of another living creature on top of that?

Steria: She has all the skills to be a good mom and the personality to be a really fun, reasonable kind of parent. Steria never really thought about these things when younger, despite expectations put upon her by certain arrangements in her life, but as she grew to adulthood... She was really excited to start a family of her own and give her kids all the time and love that was so touch and go in her own upbringing. When her daughter was born, she had every intention of giving her the world. The fact she never got to be the loving mother and shelter for Kokoro growing up is one of the cruelest parts of her death.

Drautos: This is... a many layered answer. I think he would be a good parent in that he would prepare any child for the world and teach them how to be a better person than he himself is. He would provide stability, comfort, and safety for a child. But when you look at his track record with his subordinates and his ultimate aims, it all falls apart. I could easily see him being a distant but exacting father who makes up for in opportunities what he lacks in warmth. It would be a mess. Thank God this man has no intention of raising children in a bubble like Lucis.

#aerith ; asks #aerith ; headcanon #aqua ; asks #aqua ; headcanon #stray ; asks #stray ; headcanon #oh damn it i'll tag them all later.#craterkissed #abuse //#death //#parent death //

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lilacsos · 5 years

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Doctor!SOS

(and Awsten Knight)

A/N: I’m actually super excited to introduce this. I’ve been wanting to do a doctor series since I started this blog and now I’m finally doing it. So this post will be the first instalment to the series and it will be the introductions for all the characters and then next post will be the first writing portion. I’ll have everything sectioned off into the boy they deal with. I hope that makes sense. Anyway, here we go! Also sorry this got long.

Taglist Masterlist

Dr. Ashton Irwin

Sacred Heart is often sought after for in-patient care for mental illnesses. This is because of Dr. Ashton Irwin. He started at Sacred Heart when the psych ward was in its early stages. He quickly worked his way up in the rankings and soon became head of the whole department. Although most heads of departments tend to “keep their hands clean”, Ashton doesn’t feel the same. He takes time to check on as many patients as he can. Dr. Irwin has admitted in the past that the reason he pursued a career in mental health is because of his own personal struggle. While it may not seem obvious for an aspiring psychologist to apply to a young, hardly existing department, it made sense to Ashton. He wanted to find a new department because he would have a chance to really make the department his own. There wouldn’t be any preconceptions about the department based on previous doctors. With all his training and work under his belt, Dr. Irwin is excited to welcome his newest intern, Dr. Vanessa Calhoun.

Moving for work has never been very easy but when you’re in the middle of trying to become a doctor, it’s even harder. Dr. Vanessa Calhoun was working on applying for internship programs at her local hospitals for psychology. She decided to send in an application to Sacred Heart, not because she thought she would get in but because it can’t hurt to try. Imagine her shock when she received an email from the Dr. Ashton Irwin. He’s an award-winning psychologist who works at one of the best hospitals in the county, how could she say no? She packed up her life and moved across the country, leaving her friends and family behind. She just hoped it would be worth it. And now it’s her first day and she’s terrified, excited, nervous, and a little lost.

Ashton has a girlfriend. Lucky her. Chloe Owens is possibly one of the luckiest girls on the planet since she gets to kiss and hold Ashton all she wants. She works in the hospital which you think would be a problem for Ashton but it’s not. She’s only a nurse in the P.I.C.U and so Ashton doesn’t technically work with her. But Luke does and he hates her. Not just because she thinks she has special treatment but because she likes to take some of his interns into the on-call room for an “anatomy lesson.”

Dr. Awsten Knight

Dr. Awsten Knight is in his first week of his internship at Sacred Heart Hospital. Awsten graduated top of his class at Dartmouth College. He began his surgical internship hoping that he would get to study under the famous Dr. Leah Rosario, the best attending surgeon at Sacred Heart. While Knight is an amazing surgeon, his cocky attitude will be his downfall. He knows how amazing he is and he uses it to his advantage. He pushes to get the best patients and the best surgeries. His ego has caused all of the attendings and residents to despise him. No one wants to work with him any longer so he’s been sent to work under Dr. Rosario. While that was exactly what he wanted in the first place, Awsten doesn’t know what he’s in for. Dr. Rosario doesn’t take any shit and refuses to allow her interns to be cocky. Awsten is in for quite the ride. Especially since his attending is very attractive.

Dr. Leah Rosario has no time for bullshit. She is a very busy woman and a very busy surgeon. She is one of the attending surgeons at Sacred Heart and she is the best of the best. She is on course to become head of the department possibly within five to seven years. Which is a long time but she’s been through medical school so five years is nothing to her. When Dr. Rosario was first interning at the hospital, so was Calum Hood. The two quickly acknowledged they had feelings for each other and so their fling began. It was a casual, no strings attached relationship that lasted their intern year before they both moved on. Of course, Leah is still a little heartbroken but she has plenty to worry about. Like her current intern Awsten Knight who seems to think he’s hot shit.

Sage Peterson is a surgical intern and she wants to be the best. But Awsten Knight is making that really hard for her. He’s cocky but he’s amazing and while no one wants to deal with him, he gets the best procedures and Sage is sick of it. She has to find a way to knock Awsten down in the ranks and bring herself higher on the list. Maybe if she turns off his pager? Or throw him down a flight of stairs?

Dr. Calum Hood

Cocky doctors are never anyone’s favorite but Dr. Calum Hood has a reason to be cocky. He’s the best neurologist in the state and number four in the country. Calum worked his ass off to move up in the department and at around the same time Ashton became head of psychology, Calum became head of neurology. If anyone in the hospital has to deal with the brain, they come to Calum. Unless it’s an emergency and then they contact him later. But cockiness aside, Calum is amazing at what he does. He has a calming effect on his patients and yet he creates enough stress and worry for his employees so they respect him and do their work well. Calum tends to stay out of surgery now that he runs the department but when his attendings need someone to teach the interns the best way to do their job, Calum is the best person to call. Which does add to his ego but his closest friend, Dr. Rosie Buchanan, is never afraid to knock him down a peg.

Dealing with cancer every day can be hard for anyone but when you’re the best oncologist in the state, everyone wants to see you in case you can save them. But you can’t cure everyone. Dr. Rosie Buchanan has found herself in this position. She worked her way through Sacred Heart Hospital and now she’s the head of the oncology department. She creates treatment plans for every person that walks into her office, sending them to the most capable person in the ward. She sees death around her every day and to cheer herself up, the best trick she’s found is Dr. Calum Hood. They were interns at the same time and while they didn’t see each other very often, he never failed to cheer her up and she never failed to take a shot at his ego.

Evangeline Benton has been working closely with Calum. She’s his number one attending and she totally has the hots for him. She knows its wrong to have a thing for your boss but does it really even matter when Calum hardly works with her? Afterall, he is head of the department and he doesn’t work with her unless she requests him to come by. Which admittedly she does a lot. But of course, he has to have a thing for Buchanan. She’s amazing and his equal and it isn’t fair. Good thing Evangeline can easily steal him away from her with just a quick page about an annoying intern.

Dr. Michael Clifford

Michael Clifford is also just starting his internship at Sacred Heart. Dr. Clifford prefers to work under pressure and since he does so well, he decided that working in the ER would be best for him. He genuinely isn’t too sure exactly where he will go after his year as an intern but he can cross that bridge when he has to. Sacred Heart has a great internship program for those who want to work in the emergency department. Michael is most excited about is getting to do a lot of hands-on experience but he has some fears too. He can’t help but worry about what will happen when he gets a case that he can’t solve. How will he allow a patient to go and pass and then tell the family what happened? Michael is a sweet guy and he wants to save lives but as his resident Dr. Olivia Mercer continues to remind him, you can’t save everyone.

Dr. Olivia Mercer works in the ER at Sacred Heart and she’s currently a trauma resident. She’s been in the company for a while and she loves her job. Although it’s hard sometimes too. This is her first day as a resident and it’s also her first year with interns following her around. She still takes orders from her attending but she is beginning to make the rules. The first thing she has to tell her interns is going to be the most important information they learn this year. It was the only thing that kept her going during her intern year. “You can’t save everyone.” When there was a patient she couldn’t save, this was the only thing that allowed her to move on and try to save someone else. The ER isn’t for the faint of heart and luckily for her, her heart is made of stone and can take quite a beating. Maybe she should see a cardiologist?

Eric Morton is Olivia’s shitty boyfriend. While he doesn’t cheat on her (that we know of) like Ashton’s girlfriend, he doesn’t think Olivia’s job is important. He gets mad when she’s gone all night and day at work, complaining that she’s never home to cook or clean for him. It’s easy to tell why he’s a shithead but Olivia doesn’t see it. He was her first love and she feels like she could never make it without him. And he knows this. Eric knows that no matter what he does, Olivia will still be at his beck and call. Hopefully, the poor girl can find someone that actually loves her.

Dr. Luke Hemmings

Dr. Luke Hemmings has possibly the best and the worst job in the hospital. Hemmings is one of the attendings in the P.I.C.U or the Pediatric Intensive Care Unit. His job is amazing because he gets to work with patients aged from infants all the way up to 17-year-olds. Often times, Luke will have to send in specialists for the children that need specific care but that doesn’t stop him from always checking on them. He adores children and the best part of his day is getting to tell the parents and the child that everything will be fine and the child will be home soon. But on the other side of the coin, there are some kids that Luke just can’t fix. There are kids that come in with stage four brain cancer and the only thing he can do for the child and parent is to give them a room to say goodbye in. It’s all very hard for him but he can always count on Dr. Marjorie Webb to comfort him.

Dr. Marjorie Webb thinks that she has the best job in the whole hospital. She’s an OB/GYN and a great one at that. Expectant parents are always requesting for her to be their doctor and deliver their baby. She has the highest successful birth rate in the hospital but because of this, she’s constantly booked. She’s started to only accept high-risk pregnancies while the other OB/GYNs take the more “routine” births. Dr. Webb started at the hospital around the same time that Dr. Hemmings did and the two became close to the other when Luke couldn’t save a four-year-old girl with seizures. Marjorie took Luke to the nursery and the two held newborn babies while Luke poured his heart out. Ever since that day, the two have been extremely close and Luke always knows he can come to her (and the baby room) when he needs some cheering up.

Jayden Ruiz just started as an attending in the N.I.C.U and he works very closely with Dr. Webb. Whenever there is a newborn that needs intensive care, he’s the first person she calls, since obviously he’s the best at his job. Sometimes she even offers her knowledge to him in order to try and save a baby. But of course, she has a thing for Hemmings. There’s a reason all the women on the birthing ward call him Dr. Hunky. He’s handsome, great at his job, and loves kids. But fuck that guy! Jayden is great too and now he just needs Marjorie to see that.

Tags:

@lustingfor5sos @mycollectionofnuts @ohhmuke @softboycal @norawashere @who-do-you-love-5sos @aftermidnightclifford @buggy-blogs @astrosashton @katiaw2 @littlesinnersins @bbyboyycal @rosecoloredash

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gottacatchemallsims · 5 years

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A Wild Legacy Challenge Appears!

Welcome to my index post for the newest adventure I’m embarking on amongst all the other crazy adventures going on on this blog. This is the My Sims Legacy Challenge which is a legacy style challenge created by Alexis3142 on the Offical Sims Forums. Basically it’s currently a 16-Gen Legacy Style challenge based on the MySims Trophy collection the game and their character counterparts in the MySims universe. Right now it’s 16 but of as there are more statues in the game so the creator has said that more Gens could possible be added when stuff shows up that fits the remaining characters.

You can fin the original post HERE though I will be including the full rules will be below the cut. I will mostly be following the rules as they’re written but more then likely will be adding extra stuff for More Challenge because...that’s just how I roll.

Full Gameplay From the Start * Current

Index

Generation One: Tatum Bright (Chef Gino)

Overall Rules: 1. You must complete the MySims Trophies (Collectibles) Collection by the end of the challenge/legacy 2. Money cheats can be used, but don't go overboard 3. You can live where ever you want 4. You can follow any legacy succession rules you want here is the link: https://www.simslegacychallenge.com/sims-4-legacy-challenge-rules-succession-laws/ 5. Lifespan on normal or long, you can decide 6. Potion of Youth once per generation 7. If you fail to complete the rules for that generation you do not have to start over, you can just leave it up to the next generation to complete Have fun! I really hope you guys enjoy this or find it interesting let me know! I would love to see some pictures and stories! *Your Heir and following do not have to be named or resemble the MySim of that generation if you would like you can but they can look like whatever they want to and be whatever they want to be* Generation One: Chef Gino This Generation is based on the MySim, “Chef Gino” His description is “Gino's skill in a kitchen are matched only by his sense of melodrama. The tiniest thing goes wrong and he's "ruined". To date, Gino has been ruined 9,685 times.” In this generation, you start off from the bottom you have always loved food and loved making messes in the kitchen, and now you dream of owning your own restaurant or being the head chef of one! You strive to be the best chef in the world, exploring different cultures and locations to learn all the best foods the world has to offer. Traits: Foodie, Cheerful, Clumsy Aspiration: Master Chef Career: Culinary (Chef Branch) and/or Own A Resturant Generation Rules: Master the Culinary Career (if you decide this route) and complete the Master Chef Aspiration Master Cooking, Gourmet Cooking, and Baking Skills Complete Experimental Food Photos Collection and learn their recipes Unlock the 27 City Living Recipies Generation Two: DJ Candy This Generation is based on the MySims, “DJ Candy” Her description is “ DJ Candy is like a living, breathing dance party that never stops. With her roadies and #1 fans, Zach and Sapphire, she travels the world bringing the party to those who need it most.” In this generation, as a child, you are a Social Butterfly, and hang out with your best friends as much as you can. You loved making music and banging pots and pans together until your parents decided to buy you a digital piano. As you grow up you loved going to parties and DJ-ing sure it doesn’t make your parents proud but you want to make a career out of it. Traits: Creative, Music Lover, Bro Aspiration: Musical Genius Career: Entertainer (Musician Branch) or Freelance Song Writer Generation Rules: Master the Entertainer Career (if you decide this route) and complete the Musical Genius Aspiration Master the DJ skill and instrumental/vocal skill of your choosing (Guitar Skill, Singing Skill, Piano Skill, or Violin Skill). With the Get Famous EP you can also choose the Media Production Skill and use the Music Station to produce songs Generation Thee: Elmira Clamp This Generation is based on the MySim, “Elmira Clamp” Her description is “Elmira is sour, strict, impatient, and fussy. Her favorite sound is absolute silence and her favorite hobby is toil. On the plus side, um... she's pretty good at remembering names? That's something, right?” In this generation, you didn’t have a great relationship with one of your parents (DJ Candy Generation) They were always out partying when they should have been taking care of you and you resent them for neglecting you growing up, and you never really get passed it as you got older. You love reading books because they are a way for you to escape. You want to write books for people so you can inspire them, and you want to have the best relationship with your child(children) Traits: Bookworm, Loner, Family Orientated Aspiration: Bestselling Author Career: Writer (Author Branch) Generation Rules: Master the Writer Career and complete the Bestselling Author Aspiration Master the Writing Skill and Parenting Skill Generation Four: Ol' Gabby This Generation is based on the MySim, “Ol' Gabby” His description is “Gabby's a cantankerous old grump who lives with his junkyards dog, Grit. He enjoys tinkering with things and getting into feuds with his long time frenemy Barney. (Sorry there's no Barney figurine.)” (This generation was hard to write about so it might be a little far-fetched if you have feedback let me know!) In this generation, your parents spoiled you as a child and got you a dog, they have been your best friend since the day you adopted them. You have always been a rather curious child always asking how things work. As you grow up you have a knack of fixing things. Eventually inventing a building your own furniture and statues. You don’t stop there, you want to fix what's wrong in the world, sure it might be hard because you get pretty hot headed at times but you are more than what meets the eye. Traits: Hot-Headed, Genius, Perfectionist Aspiration: Friend of The World Career: Politician Career (Charity Organizer Branch) Generation Rules: Master the Politician Career and Complete the Friend of The World Aspiration Master the Handiness Skill and Charisma Skill Become Companions with your Dog BFF Generation Five: Hopper This Generation is based on the MySim, “Hopper” His description is “BOING! RIBBIT! Hopper is a young boy in a frog suit. How did this character get so popular? SPROING!! In this generation, your parent had a very strong bond with your family dog growing up, you don't know how that dog lasted so long and when they passed away a hole was left in your family. You have always loved helping animals, in fact, your favorite animal is a frog! Traits: Loves Outdoors, Dog Lover, Cat Lover. Aspiration: Friend of the Animals Career: Veterinarian (Own a Vet Clinic) Generation Rules: Master the Critics! Have your Veterinarian Hospital get to 5 stars and complete the Friend of the Animals Aspiration Master the Veterinarian Skill Complete the Frogs Collection Generation Six: Poppy This Generation is based on the MySim, “Poppy” Her description is “Poppy is an adorable little ray of sunshine who love love LOVES flowers. She also loves her older sister, Violet, and is completely unaware that she is usually the source of her sister's constant headaches.” In this generation, you have a great relationship with your parents and your siblings, you have always loved being outside following the (Hopper Generation) around, but instead of finding frogs you loved picking flowers. Traits: Good, Outgoing, Loves Outdoors Aspiration: Freelance Botanist Career: Gardener (Florist or Botanist) Generation Rules: Master the Gardener Career (Florist or Botanist) and complete the Freelance Botanist Aspiration Master the Gardening Skill, and Floral Arranging Skill. Complete the Gardening Collection Generation Seven: Dr. F This Generation is based on the MySim, “Dr. F” His description is “Dr. F is the indomitable mad scientist with PhDs is robotology AND robotonomy. There are many, many conflicting reports as to what the "F" actually stands for. He invented TOBOR.” In this generation, your parents really pushed you to do good in school, every year at the annual science fair you would build a robot, you love robots and you love inventing. As you grow up you get a job as a scientist, inventing and creating potions with the help of your parents garden is right up your alley. Traits: Genius, Erratic, Perfectionist Aspiration: Nerd Brain Career: Scientist Generation Rules: Master the Scientist Career and complete the Nerd Brain Aspiration Master the Logic Skill, Handiness Skill, and Rocket Science Skill Visit Sixam and the Forgotten Grotto Generation Eight: Chaz McFreely This Generation is based on the MySim, “Chaz McFreely” His description is “Chaz McFreely is the world's greatest extreme sports athlete, according to Chaz McFreely. In his mind, there are only two kinds of people: Chaz Fans and Chumps. Which are you?” In this generation, you didn’t really inherit the love of knowledge and the drive to do good in school, you always focused on playing sports any kind including esports. Your parents always pressured you to do more in life and they pressured you so much to do good in school, it was mad annoying. Sports and exercise were your way to escape and cool down. You love to play basketball and lift weights, so what if maybe you are a dumb jock? You'll prove to your parents that you don't need the brains to succeed in life so you strive to be the athlete. Traits: Active, Bro, Ambitious Aspiration: Body Builder Career: Athlete Career (Professional Athlete Branch) Generation Rules: Master the Professional Athlete Career and complete the Body Builder Aspiration Master the Athletic Skill and Wellness Skill Generation Nine: Lyndsay This generation is based on the MySim, “Lyndsay” Her description is "With an insatiable thirst for adventure, Lyndsay always keeps one eye on the horizon. Her contagious energy often sees her friends swept up in her latest quest. May have had a thing for Buddy at some point??" In this generation, you love to travel. Your family was always traveling for sports events and you got to see the world. Now that you got a taste for adventure you don't want to let it go. You love to explore and travel and you document your travels with your camera. Though you may be a bit low on funds, you don't mind to borrow things you happen to find. Traits: Kleptomaniac, Glutton, Goofball Aspiration: The Curator then City Native (if you decide you would like to) Career: Freelance Explorer Generation Rules: Master The Curator Aspiration and/or City Native Master the Archaeology Skill, and Photography Skill Attend the all the City Living festivals at least once. Complete the Snow Globe Collection Generation Ten: Buddy This generation is based on the MySim, “Buddy” His description is "There is no better sidekick than your ol' pal, Buddy. Supportive, optimistic, and fiercely loyal, he'll stick by your side through any adventure. Last seen moonlighting as a special agent." In this generation, your house was a museum of plum. All these old artifacts and snow globes littered the halls, and the worst part, they don't belong to us. Your parents basically robber their way to riches, and you don't understand how they got away with it. Sure they say they "found it" but it used to belong to someone! You are a goody two shoes and you want to spread justice and solve crimes. However you are a pretty funny person, but sometimes you take jokes a bit too far. Traits: Good, Ambitious, Hot-Headed Aspiration: Chief of Mischief Career: Detective or Secret Agent (Diamond Agent) Generation Rules: Master the Detective or Secret Agent (Diamond Agent) Career and complete the Chief of Mischeif Aspiration Master the Logic Skill, and Mischeif Skill Fall in love with a Criminal Generation Eleven: Morcubus This generation is based on the MySim, Morcubus His description is "Beyond time and space is a world of black fire. From the heart of this maelstrom of horrors was born the infernal Morcubus! As president and CEO of MorcuCorp he advances his dark designs, and he also leads team-building workshops." In this generation, you aspire to gain riches and follow in one of your parent's footsteps, after almost failing school you join the criminal career as soon as possible. Money and reputation mean everything to you, and it's not until you meet "the one" where you finally settle down and correct your old ways. Traits: Kleptomaniac, Mean, Perfectionist Aspiration: Public Enemy and once finished do Career: Criminal (either branch) Generation Rules: Master the Criminal Career and complete the Public Enemy Aspiration then complete the Soulmate Aspiration Master the Mischief skill Marry Your Soulmate Generation Twelve: Goth Boy This generation is based on the MySim, “Goth Boy” His description is “Meet Goth Boy! Nothing makes him feel warmer than wrapping himself in a cloak of emotional darkness. He loves writing bad poetry and hates his job at Turkey-on-a-Fork. Wait a second...is "Goth" even still a thing?” In this generation as a teen, you have a part-time just as a Fast Food Employee, you’ve always loved being alone and felt different from everyone expressing yourself in dark clothing. As you grow older you wonder about the lore of vampires are they real? You find yourself reading romance stories to pass the time, pushing your desire and creativity into art, you spend a lot of time hoping to find yourself a vampire lover that will turn you. Traits: Romantic, Gloomy, Unflirty Aspiration: Master Vampire Career: Painter (Master of The Real Branch) Generation Rules: Work as a Fast Food Employee as a teen writing poetry on the side Master the Painter Career and then complete the Master Vampire Aspiration Generation Thirteen: Violet This generation is based on the MySim, “Violet” Her description is “Dark and dramatic, Violet Darkshade nonetheless has a beautiful heart. She does her best to take care of her kid sister, Poppy, even if it usually gives her one of those headaches that sits right above her eye.” In this generation, you don’t really want to be supernatural, you have always wanted to be cured. Until you can find a way to cure yourself you try to be a good vampire resisting Sim blood. Eventually, under the disapproval of your parents, you find a cure and start a family. Traits: Good, Family-Orientated, Squeamish Aspiration: Good Vampire, Successful Lineage Career: Stay at Home Parent Generation Fourteen: Gonk This generation is based on the MySim, “Gonk” His description is “Gonk is happy and hungry little cave-lad from the Uncharted Isle, which strangely can be found on most maps. His best friends are Bobaboo the dinosaur and a dissatisfied grad student named Sylvia, whom he calls "Girl".” In this generation, your parents let you lived freely, always told you that you can be whatever you want. They only thing they asked was that you stay close to home. Unfortunately for them, you want to explore the world, well in this case, the jungle. Your parents who are very understanding, support you traveling and collecting artifacts, and always welcoming you when you come back home. Traits: Cheerful, Glutton, Clumsy Aspiration: Outdoors Enthusiast Career: Free Lance Explorer Generation Rules: Complete the Ancient Omiscan Artifacts Collection and Omiscan Treasures Collection Master the Archeology skill and Selvadorian Culture skill. Generation Fifteen: Jenny This generation is based on the MySim, "Jenny" Her description is " Jenny was a fan fiction pioneer! Sure, nowadays EVERYBODY gets a publishing deal or a movie based on their self-published stories, but Jenny's "Starcruiser X" fanfic was the first!" In this generation, your parents weren't around that much, too busy going on work vacations to find silly artifacts. So you took to the internet to make friends, as it was fairly easy. You start with fanfiction sites and move your way to SimTube where you start creating content and creating a following. As you get older you continue vlogging and streaming making a living off of it, but your lack of parental affection left a hole in your heart, you need a bunch of realtionships to make you feel content, its not the best way to cope. Traits: Geek, Outgoing, Romantic Aspiration: Serial Romantic Career: Social Media (Internet Personality Branch) Generation Rules: Master the Social Media Career and complete the Serial Romanic Aspiration Have an affair while engaged, leave them at the altar for the sim you had an affair with. Master the Media Production Skill Generation Sixteen: Trevor Verily This generation is based on the MySim, "Trevor Verily" His description is" Trevor is dramatic ac-tor... of WONDERS!! His stirring interpretations of classic works are the very essence of the theater! One time he got stuck in an Astronaut Costume." In this generation, your parent had a huge social media following, so many fans and so many people that supported them. You wanted that, but bigger. You always loved being the center of attention, as you grow older you want to be an actor/actress so that the spotlight is all yours. Traits: Self-Absorbed, Snob, Self-Assured Aspiration: World Famous Celebrity Career: Actor/Actress Generation Rule: Master the Actor/Actress Career and complete the World Famous Celebrity Aspiration Master the Acting Skill

#MySims Legacy Challenge

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eternallyyoungjustice · 5 years

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Wherever the Winds Take You: Chapter 5

A/N: Sorry for the short delay, y’girl got herself concussed the other day by just sitting in class. As always, the translations are down below.

Hope y’all enjoy!

The sound of applause filled the canvas walls, roars and enthusiastic cheers soaring through the air and embracing the collection of people in the center of the huge, circular tent. Even through her earplugs, Lina could hear the noise clearly. But it was different from most other loud noises, this didn't hurt her as much.

The stands were full, that much was obvious even though they were darkened by the shadows cast on by the bright, colourful stage lights that hung over the center. Lina couldn't even see many of the faces in the crowds from her spot high up, perched up on the aerial hoop. But the faces she could make out were grinning from ear-to-ear as they gazed at the performers in front of them.

Lina took a deep breath, the smell of plastic, sweat, and greasy circus food flooding her senses, the hot beams of the lights overhead only adding onto her sweat from the last performance. The weight of the heavy stage makeup, her callused fingers gripping the metal of the hoop, the material of her costume.

All of it, the most beautiful feeling in the world to the fourteen year old girl.

Looking straight up, Lina saw her mother-the beauty that she was-showing off her pearly white teeth as she beamed up at the audience, even blowing them kisses from her perch. Sitting on the top of the hoop, only secured by her grip on the cable that it hung from, wasn't the safest position for Véronique, but she was rarely one to care about that sort of thing.

Sensing her daughter's gaze, the older woman glanced down and hazel eyes met blue as the mother-daughter duo made eye-contact.

“Smile wide at your audience, ma Papillon.” Véronique smiled to her daughter. “Aimez-les autant qu'ils tu aimes.”

Nodding, Lina did as instructed and widened her grin to the stands below. Even blowing a kiss or two to them, matching her mother.

As the applause slowly died out, people beginning to file out of the tent, the performers gradually stopped waving and relaxed. The smiles and joy did not dissipate in the slightest from the performers’ faces however, everyone too happy at the well-done show.

“Benny, a little lower if you could.” Véronique yelled behind her at the rigging men. On cue, the hoop the two women were on slowly began to lower towards the ground. The elder of the two leapt off as soon as they reached a reasonable height, but Lina remained sitting for a while longer until she was met with the familiar face of one Russian strongman.

“You were marvelously vpechatlyayushchiy, Ms. Lina.” Mateo smiled as he extended his arms. Lina smiled and nodded, letting the man perch her on his broad shoulders.

“Spasibo, Mateo.” Lina replied, smiling down at the mountain of a man below her. “You were spectacular as well.”

“Anyone with some meat on their bones can do what I do.” The strongman handwaved, gently squeezing the knee he held to balance the girl on his shoulders. “It takes great talent to do what you and your Mat do.”

“Are you spoiling my daughter again Mateo?” Véronique asked, walking up beside them. “Vy idete, chtoby poluchit' yeye zavisimost', chtoby pokhvalit', yesli vy prodolzhayete.”

“Apologies Madam,” Mateo smiled, looking at the woman, and then up at the girl again, “but I don't believe that would be completely unwarranted.”

“Not to mention she more than deserves high-praise tonight.” The kind voice of Markus said as he snuck up behind his wife, wrapping his arms around her costume-covered waist and pulling her into a backwards embrace. Véronique smiled coyly as she melted into her husband's body. “Just as Ma Ange does.”

Even though Véronique rolled her eyes, the smile, accompanied by her lovingly pulling her husband into a passionate kiss showed that she was more than pleased by his words.

“Lina! Lina!” The high-pitched boys voice met the girl's ears and she perked up to see Leo, accompanied not far behind by Calvin, running up to his family. Mateo, deciding to let the family speak and begin on his cleaning duties, gently placed Lina down on the ground, patted her head gently, and walked away.

“Did you see me up there with Orion?” The ten-year-old Leo exclaimed as he ran up to his older sister. Tonight had been Leo's turn to help with the lion act, his favorite act to help with.

Indeed, having an act named 'The young Leo and the terrifyingly terrific lions’ was amusing to say the least.

“I did, I'm surprised Cortez and Julien actually let you take him out of the ring. The children certainly loved it.” Lina laughed.

“Orion's old and the most well-mannered.” Leo shrugged. “But it was so cool! You did see it, right? Like, the whole thing? Even the m-””She said she saw it, you clown. Calme-toi.”

Calvin's interruption earned him a stuck-out-tongue from his little brother.

“Patrick, Mickey, and Ester are cool; so I'm taking ‘clown’ as a compliment!” Leo huffed in retort, earning a small chuckle from his older siblings.

“Touché.” Calvin smiled, shrugging. Then he turned to Lina, and she noticed that he was still wearing the charcoal-coloured face paint across his eyes that was meant to look like a mask. The black accentuating his blue orbs. “You want to go greet the adoring public? Do the old we're-siblings-and-therefore-adorable shtick?”

“Candy floss does sound nice, I wonder if we can get some from Mia.” Lina nodded, and the three of them began making their way to the opening the public had just exited out from.

“Be safe!” Markus called after his children.

“Oh please, we're always safe.” Calvin smirked.

“Says the fire-eater about the aerialist and the lion-tamer?” Leo snorted, causing the other two to laugh.

“Time runs short.” The sudden burst of pain caused Lina to freeze, grabbing onto her head as it erupted into pain.

Where had that voice come from?

“You must awaken!” As the voice returned, Lina tensed even more, curling into herself.

“You must awaken now!”

Zephyr's eyes flew open as she gasped for breath.

The first thing to hit her was the light. Dim and white, it hurt her eyes and made her wish she could go back to being unconscious. Despite the light burning through to her brain, Zephyr kept her eyes open and looked around at her surroundings. She couldn’t make out much, but she could feel that she was bound tightly by her wrists above her head, her wrists encased in a thick metal. She also realized that she was encased in some kind of glass cocoon, causing the area outside to gleam and appear blurry.

But most of all, what struck Zephyr was the pounding pain that ran through her head.

“Where am I?” Her groggy thoughts mentally asked. “What happened?”

Then she remembered.

The tour of the Hall, Speedy quitting, the secrets and lies being revealed, her, Aqualad, Kid Flash, and Robin running out to Cadmus; the Genomorphs, Superboy, Superboy attacking them…

Zephyr held back a groan as the memories flooded back. She must have been out for a couple hours, that’s why the lights hurt her so much. Her medication was beginning to wear out.

Forcing herself to open her eyes again, she looked through the glass walls to see her comrades beside her; Aqualad to her right, and Kid Flash and Robin to her left. All of them in similar glass pods with their wrists bound by the metal latches. Every one of them seemed groggy. In front of all of them however, Zephyr was surprised to see an emotionless Superboy standing, staring at all of them.

“W-what? What do you want?” Kid Flash suddenly yelled at the clone, apparently much more awake. “Quit staring...you’re creeping me out!”

“Uh, Kid…” Robin interjected, voice groggy, “how about we not tick off the guy who can fry us with a look?”

Superboy didn’t react to either boy’s words, simply continuing to stare emotionlessly at the heroes.

“We only sought to help you-” Aqualad began, but was quickly cut off by a still angry Kid Flash.

“Yea, we free you and you turn on us, how’s that for gra-””Kid.” Aqualad cut off this time, his tone commanding and stern. “Please, be quiet now. I believe our friend was not in full control of his actions.”

“What if I-” Superboy caused, his voice raspy from obviously never using it before. “What if I wasn’t?”

“He can talk?” Kid Flash exclaimed, sounding utterly surprised.

Superboy did not seem to take too kindly to this, clenching his fist at his side. “Yes, he can.”

The ginger speedster received looks from each of his friends, Zephyr even muttering a “really?”.

“What? It’s not like I said ‘it’!” KF justified.

Aqualad turned back to the boy in question. “The Genomorphs taught you telepathically?”

“They taught me much.” Superboy replied. “I can read, write...I know the names of things.”

“But these things that you have learned of, have you actually experienced them?” Zephyr asked. “Have you ever been able to see the sky? The sun? Have you ever known a life outside of your pod?”

“Images are implanted in my mind, but...no. I have not seen them.” Superboy lowered his head, troubled by this.

“Do you know what you are? Who you are?” Aqualad asked.

“I am the Superboy, a Genomorph. A clone made from the DNA of the Superman. Created to replace him should he perish...to destroy him should he turn from the light.”

A chill simultaneously ran through each of the teenager’s spines as Kid Flash, Zephyr, and Robin all looked to each other with looks of shock. Aqualad however, pushed forward.

“To be like Superman is...a worthy aspiration. But like Superman, you deserve a life of your own.” The Atlantean explained. “Beyond that solar-suit, beyond your pod, beyond Cadmus.”

“I live because of Cadmus! It is my home!”

“Your ‘home’ is a test-tube.” Robin reasoned.

“We can give you the life and experiences you have been denied, the life you deserve.” Zephyr explained, putting her strength into giving the boy a small smile. “We can show you the beautiful world outside. The Earth, the sky, the sun-”

“Uh, pretty sure it’s after midnight…” Wally interjected. “But we can show you the moon.”

“We can show you, introduce you, to Superman.”

Just as a look of hope began to make its way into Superboy’s face, and the teenagers began to believe that they may have managed to accomplish their mission, a new voice entered the room.

“No, they can’t.” The door opened to reveal Guardian, the woman scientist that Kid Flash and Zephyr had literally knocked into, and a new figure: a greasy-looking man wearing a white lab coat, his face aged and his long hair pulled into a ponytail. All three of them had a Genomorph-gnome on their shoulder. “They’ll be...otherwise occupied. Activate the cloning procedure.”

“Pass, Batcave's crowded enough.” Robin remarked.

The other teens were a little astounded that the young boy could joke about an non-consensual cloning procedure. However, the scientist didn't even pay the Boy Wonder's remark any mind.

“And get the weapon back in it's pod!” The man ordered.

“Hey, how come he gets to call Supey an 'it’?” Kid Flash exclaimed, earning him a disapproving look from Zephyr.

As Guardian walked over to Superboy, the clone looked over to Aqualad. As a last resort, the Atlantean returned his gaze with a pleading one.

“Help us.”

In response, and to many people's surprise, Superboy shrugged off Guardian's hand.

However, the small victory was short-lived as the scientist walked over to the clone, a look of irritation on his face.

“Don't start thinking now!” The scientist's Genomorph-gnome hopped onto Superboy's shoulder, and the boy's eyes glazed over. “See, you're not a real boy, you're a weapon. And you belong to me-well-to Cadmus. Same thing. Now get back to your pod!”

Not another moment after, Superboy robotically walked out of the room.

Before any of the teenagers could process the loss of their only hope however, they were soon distracted by mechanical arms, attached with four needle-like tips, coming out of the ground. Each of them fought, pulling against their restraints, but to no avail.

The needles plunged into each of their chests, accompanied by raging shocks of electricity as blood drained from each of the heroes bodies. Above their own groans and screams, each of the teens could hear those of their comrades.

Blood rushing, throat becoming sore as screams scratched their vocal chords, muscles on fire, tears welling up in eyes. Each one of the young heroes could feel these, but they were drowned out by over-arching blistering pain that sparked through their bodies for what seemed like several eternities.

Zephyr could vaguely hear the screaming voices of her Winds, but the pain and her brain's oversensory of it caused the elemental cries to become muffled and mixed in with her own screams, and those of her friends.

The others however, vaguely heard something else entirely. The sound of the male scientist saying “delete the source material”.

Just as the teens felt they were about to pass out again, loud banging sounds and the sound of tearing metal filled the room and the electric shocks came to pass.

“I told you to get back to your-” the scientist was unable to finish as he was met with Superboy's fist, sending the older man into a nearby wall.

“Don't give me orders.” Superboy growled.

“Are you here to help us…” Kid Flash asked nervously as the clone turned to face them “or fry us?”

Superboy's eyes narrowed and he stared at the ginger for a long, pregnant pause. Then he eased up, a trace of a smile pulling at his lips. “I don't seem to have heat-vision so I guess helping is my only option.”

“Y-you're...joking, right?” Zephyr asked, still out of breath. Her tone laced with mild worry. But she never got an answer as Robin suddenly jumped out of his pod, rubbing his wrists.

“Finally! Lucky Batman isn't here, he'd have my head for taking this long.” The Boy Wonder said victoriously.

“Dude, that's what you're worried about? The whole League'll have our heads after tonight!”

“I quite like my head…” Zephyr muttered sleepily, but it was so low that she didn't think anyone heard her. A moment later when she realized her words, she shook her head.

As the young girl looked up, she was quick to notice that one of the pillars on one side of the room had toppled over, presumably during their shocking as she hadn't noticed it before. “W-what…?”

Robin walked over to the computer and began typing, making the needles retract and the glass doors of the pods open. “Free Aqualad and Zephyr.” Robin told Superboy. “I'll get Kid Mouth.”

“Don't you give me orders either!” Superboy snarled, but did as he was told nonetheless. Rushing over to Aqualad first and breaking the metal shackles, catching the Atlantean as he sagged over, then doing the same to Zephyr. Although the latter shuffled forward uneasily, she caught herself.

“Thank you…” Aqualad muttered to Superboy, a grateful smile gracing his features.

As the two had their moment, Zephyr reached for the hidden compartment on her left thigh, just at her hip. But as she pulled out the syringe full of translucent blue liquid, Superboy suddenly stepped back, alert.

“Calme-toi.” Zephyr mumbled, pursing her lips as she rolled up the loose sleeve of her cape-fleece and injected the syringe into her bloodstream. “If we're going to get out of here, I'm going to need to be able to work properly.”

“That wasn't ‘working properly’?” Kid Flash exclaimed, pointing to the fallen column. Zephyr frowned, even as the liquid running through her began to dull any pain she felt.

Before she could ask what he meant however, the male scientist moving caught all the teen's attention and they began making their way towards the now ripped apart door.

“Y-you'll never get out of here!” The crazed scientist yelled after them. “I'll have you back in pods by morning!”

Robin, before crossing the threshold, stopped to pull a handful of birdarangs out from his utility belt. “That guy is not whelmed, not whelmed at all.”

“What is it with you and his ‘whelmed’ thing?” Kid Flash asked as the Boy Wonder threw his projectiles, and the two continued to exit the chamber.

The group of five ran through hallway after hallway, climbing up a few levels. This time, they were actually able to stay together, but not very long after their escape the group began to notice that strange-looking patches on the walls around them began to glow red.

“We’re still 42 levels below ground, but if we can make the elevator…”

Sadly Aqualad’s plan came to a screeching halt when the same kind of mammoth-esk genomorphs from earlier cut off the teens’ only path to their escape. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the glowing patches began to tear open like shell-less eggs to reveal the cat-like creatures that the group had encountered with Guardian.

Aqualad, Robin, Zephyr, and Kid Flash managed to find their way around the mammoths, doing their best to climb/leap/fly over them, but Superboy took a different approach as he leapt up to punch one of the giants the face, only to be promptly smashed to the ground by another’s fist.

“Superboy!” Aqualad yelled out. “The goal is escape, not to bury ourselves here!”

“You want escape?!” Superboy screamed back, seemingly in madness, and with a following burst of rage he threw one of the giant creatures into the wall besides him.

Deciding to use the distraction to their advantage, the remaining heroes ran over to the elevator door and Aqualad pried them open once again. Looking up, the mere sight of the seemingly never-ending levels shook the teens, but they carried through.

Zephyr looked to Kid Flash who nodded and held onto her shoulders as she summoned Winds to lift them off into the air. Robin triggering his grappling hook, all just in time for Superboy to join them; apparently done fighting with the genetically-modified mammoths. The clone grabbed onto Aqualad and leapt, making it a good few stories before his ascent slowed down, then stopped.

“I’m...I’m falling.”

Startled, Zephyr managed to catch the two falling boys with some more Winds, but strained under the weight.

“Reaching full carrying capacity…” Zephyr growled through gritted teeth. Thankfully, Robin threw a Birdarang onto the wall by Aqualad and Superboy and the former caught on, supporting both himself and Superboy and leaving Zephyr able to let go of them.

“Superman can fly...why can’t I fly?” Superboy asked, obviously dazed.

“Dunno, but looks like you can leap tall buildings in a single bound.” Wally shrugged, ever the optimist. “Still cool.”

The clone looked around at his new comrades and muttered a low “thank you”.

“Guys,” Robin called, directing everyone’s attention to him and the high-pitched rumbling of the elevator which was quickly approaching. “This will have to be our exit.”

Busting down the nearest door, the five escaped the shaft as the elevator zoomed by. This hallway, sub-level 15, was much more pleasing than sub-level 52, looking more like an office building with its wooden walls and normal, linear, white lights. However, the normalcy was soon interrupted by the cat-like Genomorphs flooding the opposite end, looking ready to fight the teenagers.

Not waiting for them to catch up, the group of five ran down the nearest corridor.

“Go left! Left!” Superboy suddenly yelled, and not having any better ideas, the others followed.

“Right!”

Unfortunately however, Superboy’s directions only managed to get them to a dead end. Faced with a simple wall with only an air-vent.

“Great directions Supey, you trying to get us re-poded?” Kid Flash exclaimed.

Superboy appeared confused, lost in thought. “No...I-I don’t understand…”

“Don’t apologize!” Robin cried out. “This is perfect!”

Looking to Zephyr, the young Boy Wonder motioned to the air-vent with a small smirk. “Ladies first.”

Smiling back at the young boy and nodding, Zephyr stepped forward and pulled up her hood, which had seemingly fallen down during the fight with Superboy. Extending her arm, the girl grabbed the Winds she could feel within the vent with a tight fist, and yanked back. Listening to their command, the Winds rushed forward; taking off the gate with them. Not wasting anymore time, Zephyr flew up and forward through the vent, turning to lift Robin and Kid Flash up with her before Aqualad and Superboy jumped in after them, using their enhanced strength to make the leap themselves.

However, the small structure of the vent was only navigable if the teens crawled on all fours, which significantly slowed them down. KF didn’t seem overly partial to this, which he voiced after a few minutes.

“At this rate, we’ll never get out.”

“Sshhh.” Shushed Superboy. “Listen.”

However, none of the heroes could hear anything.

Until a moment later when the sounds of claws against metal made their way down the tunnel.

“Go! Go!” Aqualad exclaimed, and the group hurriedly scuffled as quickly as they could before turning to the nearest gate. This time using her foot, Zephyr kicked open the gate and jumped down, landing on the ground before being followed by her comrades.

Without missing a beat, Robin ran over to one of the hallway’s outlets and plugged it into his holo-computer. A moment later, he looked up to the others looking triumphant.

“I hacked the motion sensors.”

“Sweet!” Kid Flash grinned.

“Still plenty of them between us and out.” Robin explained.

“But I finally have room to move!” The speedster slid down his goggles and ran through a nearby door which lead into a stairwell, not even hesitating for a moment.

“Always has to run ahead.” Zephyr muttered with a small smile to Aqualad, who returned her smile for a moment before the group shot off like a bullet.

As the group caught up with their speedster, a group of Genomorphs made their way towards them. But Wally simply accelerated, knocking all of them down like bowling pins.

“More behind us!” Robin yelled out. Superboy, the tail of the group, stopped and peered down at the band of Genomorphs hurriedly climbing the stairs behind them. This was soon resolved as the clone stomped down onto the step below him, and the entire staircase crumbled to the ground.

After dashing up several more flights of stairs, the group finally found their way to the top and Kid Flash zipped through the door. When the rest of the group entered into the adjoined hallway however, they found the corridor flooded with red light and the speedster laying on the ground in front of a large metal door.

“We’re cut off from the street.” Aqualad exclaimed.

“Thanks, my head hadn’t noticed.” Kid Flash mumbled sarcastically in return.

Aqualad and Superboy ran over to the doors, attempting to pry it open with sheer force, and Robin pulled up his holo-computer to hack into it. But they were cut off by more creatures quickly approaching and all of them quit their efforts in favor of running through a nearby door.

Only to be cut off by a whole parade’s worth of Genomorphs of varying size and type, and at the center of it all: Guardian.

The teens tried to retract, tuning back to escape, but that was soon blocked off by more creatures as well.

They were forced to take a stand, Aqualad and Robin taking out weapons while the others took fighting stances.

But then, before anyone attacked from either side, the group was hit with a strong wave and everything went black.

“Evangelina, ma papillon, you need to wake up now.”

The familiar voice called out, but to Lina it was so distant and muffled.

“Mama?” Lina called out, her eyes were too heavy to lift but she knew she was lying down. On what, she could not decipher.

“It’s time to wake up, ma fille, you haven’t finished the show yet.”

“The...show?” Lina mumbled, the voice almost too muffled to understand what it was saying. “What show?”

“You know what show, Lina.” The voice replied, this time getting even more muffled and distant. “And you know you need to wake up.”

“Mama? Mama, what show?”

As Zephyr’s eyes finally opened, she was surprised to see that Superboy was the only one of the group that was standing. But as she looked around at the other partners, she was relieved to see that they were also awakening. As they all stood, Aqualad focused in on the hero in front of them.

“Guardian?”

“Go.” The black and blue-clad hero instructed. “I’ll deal with Desmond.”

“Desmond?” Zephyr whispered out of confusion.

“I think not.”

The Genomorphs split to reveal the male scientist from before, behind them.

“Oh, Desmond.” The air-manipulator realized, finally learning the scientist’s name.

The man held up a vile of pale blue-green liquid that seemed to glow in the darkness of the corridor.

“Project Blockbuster will give me the power to restore order to Cadmus.” The man grumbled, before downing the vile all in one gulp.

As the man keeled over onto the ground in pain, his body began to seize and twitch. Groans of pain filled the room and Zephyr moved to help the scientist, only to be stopped by Aqualad's arm, just as the man’s white lab coat shred to pieces, revealing his flesh which was slowly morphing into the colour of cement. The man raised his head to show the flesh of it was tearing apart, and revealed fully black eyes with red dots where his irises should be. As the man began to stand, most of his ripped skin and clothing fell off his body to reveal his new form: a ginormous creature with grey skin and the remains of human flesh hanging off of him.

“Everyone, back!” Guardian commanded before running at the new Desmond. He didn’t last long however as the creature batted him away like a fly, throwing the fully grown man into a wall.

Before anyone could think next, Superboy charged at the former scientist, his fist slamming into Desmond’s face before he was punched into the ground by the snarling beast. Superboy persisted however, jumping right back into it to deliver a strong uppercut to his opponent’s jaw, followed by a few more decent punches. But the boy’s assault was short-lived since when he tried to jump and deliver a diving attack, Desmond leapt up, surging through the clone and sending both of them through the ceiling; leaving a giant hole in their wake.

“Well, that’s one way to bust through the ceiling…” Robin shrugged, shooting off his grappling hook.

“You think Lab-Coat planned that?” Kid Flash asked, grabbing onto Robin as the two flew up.

“I doubt he is planning anything anymore.” Aqualad replied grimly, turning to a frowning Zephyr. Wordlessly grasping her shoulder with one webbed hand, the Atlantean held on as his partner gathered up her Winds and flew them up through the crater.

As soon as they landed however, the two of them were knocked down by Superboy being thrown into them.

As Robin and Kid Flash ran over to help the three of them back up, they regrouped; forming a line side-by-side as they faced off against the giant monster that wanted them dead.

Kid Flash ran off first, zipping towards the creature and then dashing through his legs to land on all fours, directly followed by Aqualad and Superboy punching Desmond in the jaw. The creature toppled over and tripped over Kid Flash, which sent him crashing into the ground.

“Learned that one in kindergarten.” The speedster grinned.

Flying overtop, Zephyr gathered as many Winds as she could, directing them across Desmond’s body before pushing them down to increase the gravity and pressure around the beast.

“Do everyone a favor and please, stay down!” The girl exclaimed.

With a loud growl however, Desmon slowly stood back up even as Zephyr anxiously tried to add more pressure around him.

Giving up just as he stood, the girl redirected her currents to around the creature’s head. Moving her hands in circles as the Winds followed, creating a sphere of air around his head. Desmon paused, unbalanced by the sudden lack of oxygen, but once again he overpowered her attack and swung his fist, sending Zephyr into the ground and knocking all the air out of her, causing her Winds to disperse.

Quickly regaining his composure, Desmond went after Superboy, grabbing him and crashing his body into a nearby column. As the monster kept decking the smaller boy, it seemed like he was trying to punch Superboy through the column. He was stopped however, when Aqualad used his water-bearers to form a whip and wrapped it around Desmond’s arm. The creature tried to grab onto the Atlantean, using the whip to yank him over, but Aqualad simply launched off of his face, using it as a spring-board and he reformed his whips into a spiked mace. Aqualad never landed his attack however, as he was promptly grabbed onto and punched into the floor.

To finish the onslaught, Desmond threw Superboy into another column, rubble falling onto the young boy's body.

Wally promptly ran up to try and help Aqualad, who Desmond had turned his attention to, but the ginger to was quickly snatched up. Aqualad tried to get back up, summoning back his spiked mace, but the two heroes were thrown away with nearly enough force to knock them out. Aqualad however, seemed to still hold Desmond’s attention as the creature attempted to crash the Atlantean’s body through the column by force.

Flying over to Robin, Zephyr fought back the impulse to run in and try to help the others despite knowing she wouldn’t be of much assistance.

“We need a plan, we’re getting killed!” The air-manipulator exclaimed.

“I do have an idea.” Robin said, pulling up a map of the room they were standing in on his holo-computer. He also called out to Kid Flash, summoning him over to them. As the speedster ran over, Robin began to explain. “You see these columns? They’re supportive, they help hold up the building.”

“Meaning if they come down, the building goes down with them!” Kid Flash added.

“Right, and if Desmond keeps at it the way he is…” Robin motioned to the creature, crumbling the column in front of him by swinging Superboy into it. “Got it?”

“Got it.” Kid Flash and Zephyr replied in unison.

“Go.”

Kid Flash ran up to Desmond, still brawling with Superboy, and leapt up. Making a blind grab, he clutched onto the first thing he could reach as the boy leapt in front of the creature’s face. Once he landed, KF realized that what he had grabbed was the piece of flesh that had once been Desmond’s nose.

“Got your nose!” The speedster exclaimed with a grin, and Desmond threw Superboy away and charged for the ginger, only for Zephyr to send a large gust of air towards him, causing him to lose his footing and turn to her.

“C’mon you...crétin.”

Desmond charged at her, only for Zephyr to swoop up at the last minute and use a strong air-slice to add to his force and send him crashing straight into the column that was behind her.

Zephyr heard Robin call Aqualad and Superboy over to explain their plan as Desmond shook off the damage, this time redirecting his fury to Kid Flash who appeared in front of the column across the way.

“Over here you incredible bulk!” He cried out, and Desmond came running at him to crash head-first into the supportive beam. However, KF was a little too slow and ended up getting hit by a small piece of rubble.

The hit slowing him down, Desmond was still able to readjust and head back straight to the speedster, going to slam his fists into the boy but thankfully, Zephyr was able to fly in and form an enforced bubble around them as a kind of forcefield.

“Zeph’, you’re an angel.” KF cried.

“But of course.” Zephyr replied, sending her teammate a friendly wink before thrusting her arms forward and sending the Winds that had made up the bubble straight into Desmond’s jaw, throwing him back.

As he staggered, Kid Flash grabbed Zephyr by the hand and raced them to safety. In their peripherals, they could see that Aqualad and Superboy were taking down the remaining columns.

“Here!” Everyone turned to see Robin motioning to an area closeby, which Aqualad quickly flooded over with water.

KF and Zephyr raced over to the pool, daring Desmond to come at them, and the monster complied. He charged at the two pieces of live bait, only to be knocked down by a strong punch by Superboy, which made him collapse right onto the water. Before he could get up, Aqualad charged up the electricity that flowed through his curling arm tattoos and lowered his hands in the water, electrifying it with a single touch. The shock raced through the water and into Desmond, electrocuting him as he let out a loud howl of pain.

“Move!” Robin cried, and as the sounds of his exploding birdarangs charging up filled the air, all of the teenagers gathered together. Not a moment later, the room was filled with the fire and rubble of the following explosions. As the building crashed down around them, the team of five tried to dash out. But they were too slow, and the debris collapsed on top of them. At the last minute, Zephyr summoned her Winds again and formed a bubble around her five all of them.

Once the falling rocks had settled and the smoke cleared, Zephyr threw out her currents, tossing the clutter that had fallen onto it in the process. As the weight she had just carried sunk into her muscles, she staggered back into Aqualad who caught her and helped her stay standing even though he, along with everyone else, was panting heavily and crouched over in pain.

“We...did it?” Aqualad said through huffs of air, his statement clouded with disbelief.

“Was there...ever any doubt?” Robin gasped back. He and Kid Flash high-fived in victory, only for the impact to strike their most-certainly broken ribs and they let out a groan of pain.

“None in the...slightest.” Zephyr laughed, rubbing her side which felt like it was on fire.

Superboy took a step towards the now-unconscious Desmond, the creature’s body covered in rubble. He seemed lost in thought, but that was stopped when Kid Flash called his attention back.

“Look, the moon.” The speedster motioned up to the sky, where the moon sat so big and full that it almost looked fake. Superboy’s eyes glazed over as he stood there, peering up at the moon with absolute awe.

But then, the moon’s image was interrupted as a small black dot appeared in front of it. As the dot got closer, it appeared to a humanoid figure wearing a cape, quickly descending from the skies and towards the teenagers. As it got closer to them, the very familiar features came into view.

“Oh...and Superman! Do we keep our promises or what?”

As Superman got even closer, he was joined by more and more people. Every Leaguer was there, standing on the edge of the crater that had once been a genetics lab; gazing down at the teenagers with mostly unreadable expressions. You could almost hear the horns in the background, regally announcing their presence.

“We are in so much trouble…” Zephyr muttered.

As everyone saw Superman’s eyes make their way to the unknown teenager amongst the protégés, Superboy stepped forward. Pulling up the scrap of his solar suit that had ripped during the battle, and proudly showcased the famous ‘s’ shield. The same shield that was imprinted on Superman’s chest.

As to be expected, Superman appeared shocked at the new discovery. But what was not to be expected, and what seemed to deeply anger the younger Kryptonian, was the firm look that moved over his features not a moment later. A cold look that seemed to pass right through Superboy as if he wasn’t even there.

“Is that what I think it is?” Batman asked out loud.

“He doesn’t like being called an it…” Kid Flash cringed.

“And he has a name.” Zephyr added, following KF in stepping beside Superboy.

“I’m Superman’s clone!”

Superboy’s sudden exclamation shocked every Justice Leaguer as they fell at ease to look at one another in confusion.

The area was flooded with silence, an awkward one full of tension that nobody in the proximity wanted to be a part of. Until, that is, Batman cut in.

“Start talking.”

‘Aimez-les autant qu'ils tu aimes’: roughly, “Love them as much as they love you”

‘vpechatlyayushchiy’: Russian for very “impressive/spectacular”

‘Spasibo’: Russian for “thank you”

‘Mat’: Russian for “mother”

‘Vy idete, chtoby poluchit' yeye zavisimost', chtoby pokhvalit', yesli vy prodolzhayete’: roughly, “you will get her addicted to oriaee if you keep this up”

‘Ma Ange’: French term of endearment, meaning 'My Angel’

‘crétin’: French for “cretin”

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snowgray · 5 years

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Some Trash

A trashy tale: My silly Sims 4 legacy so far.

I started off with an adorable romantic lady named Hope. She had curly blonde hair and bright blue eyes, and her default outfit was a white crop top and black scalloped shorts. She also wore big heart earrings to let all the menfolk know she wants love. Her aspiration to start with was the good parent aspiration. It happened to be Winterfest just as the game was starting, and I’d read that Father Winter’s children got a buff, so Hope put her moves on Father Winter and got knocked up. She also met a hunky jogger, Kane, and he seemed like a much better long-term prospect than Santa. Kane was built like a brick house, with curly black hair, dark skin and dark brown eyes. Hope got his attention and he was super into her, so despite the complicating pregnancy, Kane accepted Hope’s proposal and moved right in. Hope had her first baby, Chloe, who took after Father Winter in appearance. Kane was a doting step-father when he wasn’t at his job with the SportsTeam. Hope took up gardening. Kane couldn’t keep his hands off of her, so she was quickly pregnant again. Their first child together was a daughter, Nadia. While Chloe was a creative kid, Nadia just wanted to run and play. She and her father got along well. Hope had her heart set on one more kid, and she and Kane had another daughter, Tatianna. Tati always wanted to be like her big sisters, and joined the Llama Scouts just like they’d done. Most baby siblings are a bit wild, but Tatianna was a perfect student and a great scholar. Her parents had become expert parents, and Tati benefited from their wisdom. Feeling that her family was full (and because I have WhickedWhims), Hope began taking birth control pills. For Chloe’s first day of high school, her loving stepfather bought her a bottle of Insta-Lean. Chloe had inherited her biological father’s jowly cheeks, though her outgoing personality meant she was popular with the boys, as did her frequent trips “out” to meet her biological father, who generally wandered off to flirt as soon as he’d waved hello to his child. Chloe’s funny face, unfortunately, made her an unwise choice to inherit the throne. Nadia was a beautiful teenager, with her mother’s blond hair, ruddy bronze skin, and features as angular as a supermodel. But she was a listless child, and rarely accomplished what she wanted to do. She lacked the skills to inherit the throne. Tatianna was sad to be left behind in elementary school. Despite his busy career as a professional athlete, Kane made time to play with her. Together, they built a scarecrow, and Tatianna talked to him nearly as often as her mother did. He almost seemed like a real person, and Hope’s garden flourished as if twenty hands were tending it. Fate cannot look at a happy family and feel happy himself, but he was kind and gentle to Hope. Just when she thought that her children were nearly able to care for themselves, she found herself pregnant again! Arianna was born with rich brown hair and sun kissed skin, and everyone was charmed by her. But her parents’ careers and a full house meant that she never quite got as much attention as her older sisters had. She’d eventually look for that attention in all the wrong places... As soon as Tatianna entered high school, she started turning heads. She was as fit as her father, and nearly a perfect clone of him, save for her sparkling blue eyes. She’d studied hard in elementary school, but the memory of her humble beginnings made her eager to earn money. Perhaps too eager... Chloe wanted a family as big as her mother’s, and the day she graduated from college, she eloped with her high school sweetheart, Bennet. They settled in to a small home across town, and they graced Hope with two granddaughters in quick succession. Nadia took a while to decide on a boyfriend, but goofy looking Louis made her laugh, and she finally consented to marry him after she got pregnant. Together, they had two sons and a daughter. They lived just around the corner, with Louis’ brother. Tatianna worked hard throughout high school. She studied too hard to find time for dating. She achieved her dream of becoming a top level Llama Scout, and scored straight As. Often, her scarecrow friend Patchy helped her with her chores and homework. She spent hours discussing her dreams with him, and one afternoon, she confessed her love. Patchy whispered that he loved her back, and they embraced. But their love could never continue the family line, though they certainly tried. Each afternoon, he sighed a soft farewell and headed back to his tree. Kane retired from his job as a professional athlete, having achieved his lifelong dream. He began to take an interest in repair and rocketry, and soon the house was full of unbreakable appliances. Hope’s gardening research led her to discover a tree with fruit worth its weight in gold. She began to work from home more often, writing scientific papers and bonding with her beehives. Arianna never took much of an interest in gardening, but Tati learned everything she could from her mother. Unable to be with her lifelong love, Tatianna gave in to a classmate who’d fallen for her. Cedric called her every day, and she finally went on a date with him. He looked like her father, and even had the same haircut, though his chipmunk cheeks reminded Tati of her half-sister's wretched biological father. Cedric wore her down, and, eager to move on with her responsibilities as heir, Tatianna married him.

Cedric was not an ideal spouse. He dreamed of being a writer, but, no matter how hard he worked at it, his books were always awful. He took a job as a writer during the day, and Tatianna decided to find a nighttime job so that one of them would be home for the children. The allure of the criminal world called to her, because she wanted to become truly wealthy. When Tatianna's first child arrived, though, her husband was at work. It was Patchy who panicked in fear for her labor, and who cooed at the baby whenever he had the chance. Tatianna's first child was a girl, Jeannie. With rich dark skin and adorable braided pigtails, she was a winning child. Kane and Hope taught her as much as Tati and Cedric did, and they were thrilled to have another little one in the house.

Winterfest rolled around, and Arianna started high school. Though she'd studied hard in elementary school, when she became a teenager, the hormones kicked in. Romance was all Arianna could think about! She greeted Father Winter (not her half-sister's father) with a friendly face at the fireplace. But when she bumped into him again out in the neighborhood, she turned on the charm. Whether it was her hormones or his lechery (or the autonomous behavior that I had turned on), who can say for sure. But Arianna became another teen pregnancy statistic when Father Winter knocked her up.

Kane and Hope were furious that their baby girl had become pregnant. Arianna tried to move in with her baby daddy, but though he called her often, his abode was nowhere to be found in any neighborhood. Ultimately, her kind sister Nadia took her in. Nadia had plenty of parenting experience, and her brother-in-law moved out to be with his new wife to make room for Arianna and her daughter. Chloe was having difficulties, too. She discovered that her once-loving husband had a woman on the side, and, more than that, he had a whole second family! She sent him packing, and found herself a single mother to two teenagers. Chole's behavior took a turn for the worse after her husband was gone. She could often be spotted out at clubs in the evening, and before long, she found herself about to become a mother again- without knowing quite who the father might be.

Despite her illegal occupation, Tatianna was a good mother. She wanted another child, and she and Cedric conceived a second time. Their charming baby boy, Phillip, was welcomed into a warm, loving home.

But all was not well. Kane's gray hair and stooped posture had long spoken of his advanced age. His bride, though younger than he was by a great deal, finally became elderly herself. Only a day after her seventh grandchild was born, the Grim Reaper came to visit Hope. Hope's husband and progeny panicked! Cedric, usually so useless and doofy, finally came to the rescue. He pleaded with the Grim Reaper, and Hope was spared. Her husband, relieved and thankful, fed her a concoction of his own devising that would help her remain alive. Hope also researched further into the plant world, and discovered a flower that, some whispered, could save a loved one from death. She gave the stinky blossoms to her daughter and grandchildren, just in case.

Phillip grew into a popular and gregarious child. Due to a hole in the space-time continuum (or a mod conflict), his sister Jeannie had a long and fruitful childhood. She was extraordinarily accomplished, and became unusually gifted in the creative arts as well as the mental ones. Phillip himself longed only for popularity. He befriended a classmate at school who was somehow, inexplicably (or because I just got the expansion) famous. Phillip loved the strangers who would appear out of nowhere to greet his friend. He dreamed of knowing as many people as his young buddy.

The pressure of Jeannie's young accomplishments began to weigh on her. When she started high school, she vowed that her life would change. Gone would be the days of slaving over homework and science fair projects! Instead, Jeannie had one goal: banging. She wanted to go on as many dates as she could fit in a day, and found herself tagging along with her brother and his famous buddy to look for "fans" to hit on. She dug through her grandmother's jewelry box, and, spotting a pair of huge heart-shaped hoops, decked herself out.

Tatianna continued to pursue a career in crime. Though she had no love for mischief, she found that computer programming was easy for her, and she could steal money from faceless corporations without compunction. But, in the end, it was her mother's efforts that paved the way for her to achieve her dream of wealth. Tatianna looked at the tree that bore golden fruit, and a golden idea was born. She propagated that tree until the front yard was an orchard of cash. Tatianna was rich beyond her wildest dreams, and the excuse of "gardening" gave her a reason to spend time with her true love, Patchy.

It was Jeannie's fourteenth birthday that truly set Tatianna off. When she looked at her daughter, the pouchy cheeks of her husband stood out as such a strong reminder that tears leapt to her eyes. This girl, once so full of promise, could not inherit the throne. Something must be done.

Tatianna attended her sister Chloe's birthday party out of familial obligation, but a handsome stranger caught her eye. He introduced himself as Wyatt. His build was just like her father's, though he was pale, with green eyes and dusty brown hair. Tatianna looked at her sister, whose once-happy marriage had crumbled, and whose jowls had only grown more prominent with age. Wyatt asked if she was single, and, slipping the ring off of her finger, she said, "It's complicated." A few drinks later, she found herself bent over in the bathroom, Wyatt pounding away as she imagined that he was a much, much skinnier man...

Tatianna didn't exactly expect to have a third child, but the morning sickness wasn't quite a surprise, either. She waited until Cedric went to work to invite Wyatt over to visit and to tell him the good news. Did she let him linger on purpose, to make her final decision easier? She couldn't quite say for sure. But Cedric came home to find Wyatt embracing Tati, and he was outraged. It took Tati a moment to find the words (or the option in the interactions wheel), but she asked Cedric for a divorce, and he agreed. He wanted to keep living with his children, but Tatianna didn't think that was a good option. Cedric left, but he stayed in the family. Ages ago, in high school, he'd made a pass at Chloe before he'd settled on Tatianna. When she mentioned that her home had more bedrooms than people, he took her up on the offer. He'd have started working on a revenge romance if Chloe weren't already pregnant.

Wyatt's life wasn't free of complications, either. As a very young man, he'd married an older woman, and she was now gray-haired and weak. His son was almost seventeen. He couldn't look at his wife and feel love anymore, but he felt wretched betraying his son. And yet, there was no room in his new life for this old family. Tatianna's rounded belly convinced him. He divorced his wife, and moved in with Tatianna. Wyatt's love of athletics made him an instant hit with Kane. They spent hours in the basement gym, Kane mentoring his future son-in-law in all the glories of athleticism that he could no longer enjoy himself, due to old age. Tatianna promised Wyatt that they'd marry, though she couldn't quite decide when (and the game is convinced that he's in her employ and therefore can't marry her, so idk). History repeated itself when Tatianna went into labor, and her baby's father was nowhere to be found. Instead, Patchy ran to her side, fretting over her safety as she delivered her third child. In honor of another impending Winterfest, she named her daughter Noelle. The infant looked like any other, though she'd inherited her mother's rich skintone, rather than her father's pale one.

Phillip was unhappy about his new little sister, and he missed his father. Jeannie had hardly a thought to spare for her new stepfather, beyond the fact that he was incredibly hot. Tatianna was torn. Her youngest child was a chance to pass the throne to a worthy heir, and to forget the error of her first marriage. But the baby didn't belong to her true love, and no baby ever would. Could she learn to love this child... or any child? She vowed to be a better parent to Noelle than she'd been to Jeannie. In fact, she swore to be the best parent ever, just as her mother was. Hope picked up Noelle, her eighth (or probably ninth but I didn't check to see if Chloe had her baby yet) grandchild. Was this newborn to be the queen that her mother and grandmother were before her?

#trash #omfg trash #so trash #sims4 #sims 4 legacy challenge

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obsidianarchives · 5 years

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Ashley Romans

Ashley Romans started her formal acting training at Pace University School of Performing Arts. She moved to Los Angeles immediately after graduating in 2015. Los Angeles theater credits include: Celebration's Charm (Beta), Rotterdam (StageRaw and LADCC award recipients). Film/Television credits include: "I'm Dying Up Here" and "Shameless" (Showtime), "Are You Sleeping?" (Apple TV), "Hermione Granger and the Quarter Life Crisis" (Sunshine Moxie), "NOS4A2" (AMC new series).

Black Girls Create: What do you create?

I’m an actor. I create by acting. Collaborating with writers, directors, designers, and visionaries in whichever medium possible to hopefully create an honest reflection of a being’s life experience.

BGC: How do I create?

I suppose my entire creative process begins with healthy self trickery. Not quite deception but more healthy, playful, self manipulation. Naturally as creators we have a way of resisting and fearing whatever it is we most want to bring about into the world. Similar to a mother’s fear of giving birth or raising a child, we think “what if the world doesn’t receive my creation well? What if people are mean? What if it’s not healthy or ready?” I often find myself trying to bribe or trick my way out of this fear. I trick myself into going into my next audition as confidently as I can, or preparing for that day on set when I really don’t want to, or finding some connection with a character trait I find reprehensible.

I also think it is very important to stay relaxed and loose so one can reach a playful and spiritual place of creativity. So I try and keep myself healthy; mentally, spiritually, and physically by reading, eating healthy, journaling, praying, meditating, and exercising.

BGC: How did you get into acting?

I would say my professional pursuit officially began when I went to study theater at Pace University in New York City for my undergraduate degree, but for as long as I can remember I always had an interest in acting. I loved watching ‘90s action/drama movies with my father and “I Love Lucy” reruns with my mother as a child at all hours of the day. I became even more interested in theater and performance through high school choir, joining community summer camps, and doing the spring high school musical.

Even as an adolescent I felt it was best to keep my professional aspirations to myself in fear of naysayers. In retrospect, I understand now that high school is a time a lot of young people are dealing with self doubt and insecurity. Considering that I was far from the funniest, smartest, or most talented individual in the theater department, I, unconsciously, kept my performing ambitions quiet even from the people closest to me because I didn’t want to risk someone rubbing their self doubt on me. I worked up the courage to audition for a couple of acting schools but I told no one except my acting teacher Douglas Hooper and a few very close mates.

I still abide by this privacy philosophy even now and it hasn’t steered me wrong to this day. I still feel that speaking one’s dreams and aspirations among chaotic or unsupportive energy environment would most likely dissipate or poison their own source.

Eventually after graduating from Pace University through a couple months of tumbling I landed representation for acting with a management company and I moved out to Los Angeles. I’ve been able to land some great acting opportunities and gain a supportive team of people and I could not be more grateful.

BGC: What has been your favorite role so far?

I have so many favorites. The roles that stand out to me as my favorite are the ones that have most challenged me and allowed me to explore a different aspect of life, and explore and connect to the full range of the human experience. I’ve received some of my most valuable acting lessons in various roles in the theater. I played Inez, a red dressed-vixen-leading lady with a passionate, deep-seeded hatred for her ex-husband in Stephen Adly Guirgis’ Our Lady of 121st. Two years ago I played Beta, a young teenage gang affiliated boy in Chicago with a secret in Phillip Dawkins’s play Charm at Celebration Theater. This coming March I will be part of the Kirk Douglas’s production Rotterdam by Jon Brittain. Set in the Netherlands, I will play Fiona/Adrian, one half of a modern London couple who decides to make a huge change in their life. My experience acting in these productions specifically has been positively nurturing. Throughout our rehearsal process, I learned what it means to be not just a more nuanced and skilled actor but also a more supportive and capable teammate in the creative process.

In terms of film/television world, my work as Hermione Granger in Sunshine Moxie’s Hermione Granger and the Quarter Life Crisis remains my greatest acting lesson in the film/television/on-camera discipline. Eliyannah Yisrael, Megan Grogan, Alice Pierce, other writers and producers leveled up my game up. I’ve never before been number one on the call sheet and I’m not sure if I ever will again, but having that responsibility was so enlightening. It was also an invaluable learning experience getting to work with those amazing creators and seeing those women just get shit done. It was truly an honor being chosen to play such an important and monumental literary character in this version. I remember reading the Harry Potter series as a little girl in London and thinking how much I wanted to be part of and live in that magical world. Playing Hermione in the HGQLC series was by far the best artistic adventure I’ve ever had. Exploring moments, scenes and how far we can bring characters all felt like adventures. Even our trip to Dublin, Ireland this past year felt like one big adventure. I’ll be forever grateful for that experience.

BGC: Why do you create?

I enjoy acting because I love being seen and getting to disappear. It’s a paradox but it’s my truth. I enjoy exploring the range of human experience. I love that I get to feel connected to people in the safe incubator that is pretend. I love that I get to feel and say all the things I’m afraid to feel and say in my real life. I still never get bored of going to the theater, movie or stage, sitting in a dark room with other people and watching performers simply tell us a story. I hope to serve God and the people around me through my creativity and acting. I always hope to truthfully represent a human experience no matter how high or low the stakes it might seem to us at first. Losing your phone and frantically trying to find it can be as exciting and dramatic a story as losing one’s job or finding out your spouse is unfaithful. It’s all in the storytelling and truthfulness of the moment and I love as an actor I get to explore that.

BGC: Who do you hope to reach through your work?

Honestly, the most important people I aim to ultimately reach and impress are my nieces and nephews. Yes the public, my agents, and producers are all important but I feel as though they are a means to an end. Right now my oldest niece is 10 years old and she loves the Hermione series and is always pretty excited to see me act on TV. At the moment she still thinks I’m pretty cool and I hope to keep it that way.

If this was a decade ago and you asked 16-year-old Ashley the same question I probably would have said something like “I want to be a voice for the voiceless and the underrepresented… blah blah blah.” Truthfully, I don’t think I ever really knew what that meant. I mean, I knew what it meant on a superficial-runner-up-in-Beauty-Pageant kind of level but now that answer doesn’t resonate with me as the gutter truth. Whenever I’m working on scripts, deciding on content to create or post etc, I ask myself “Is this something I would be proud to let my niece see? Is this the kind of work that can help make the world even the tiniest bit better for her?” Eventually, she’s going to grow up and have a voice in this world and I hope that her seeing me embrace mine will give her the courage to embrace hers. My nieces and nephews and all the children like them are who I hope to reach.

I really love seeing how the world is changing now. Representation in the media was so limited even 10 years ago but now it’s getting more and more beautiful by the day. With so many platforms, works such as Pose, Glow, Fresh Off the Boat, Chewing Gum, Masters of None, Eighth Grade, and more, so many beings who have been underrepresented for years are getting a chance to reach their audiences and tell their stories. And we all get to identify and see ourselves in each other. I don’t have to reach out and save the world because it kind of starts with myself and our own backyard.

BGC: Who or what inspires you to keep creating?

Oh geez, that’s a loaded question. My peers are my first and foremost inspiration and motivation. Again Eliyannah Yisrael, Megan Grogan, Alice Pearce, Jessica Jenks. It’s remarkable to watch those ladies do what they do. I love being in acting class and witnessing breakthroughs or being in a really great rehearsal with a cast mate. That’s always promising when you get to be part of the creation of something honest and true. Even if it is just a great moment in a scene. Actors who inspire me are endless. Octavia Spencer is a fantastic actress and creator who I adore. I had the blessing of working with her once and she’s an even better human. Lovely doesn’t do her justice. I love watching Regina King. There’s a great example of an honest to God creator and storyteller. She’s accomplished so much in acting, directing, writing, and producing. That’s also how I feel about Shonda Rhimes, Boots Riley, Jim Carrey, Maggie Gyllenhaal. There are many more. I’m sure as soon as you publish this interview I’m going to think of more.

BGC: Why is it important as a Black person to create?

As Black people, we have such a specific and loaded way we walk through the world. The Hermione Series has such a beautiful tag line. It says “HGQLC - Write Your Own Ending.” I’ve always loved that because it gives power to the subject. As Black people it is our responsibility to take control of our story the best way we can. We must feed our communities the best and most honest images of ourselves to ourselves because images and representation matters. In the area of cinema, for years non-Black people have told their version of the Black experience and it has left us misrepresented.

BGC: How do you balance creating with the rest of your life?

It’s always a struggle to keep a balanced life. I have a tendency to obsess and quickly lose perspective but when I want to regain balance I plan my day to make sure I get everything I need in. Luckily for me in my particular art form, acting is about living so I know I can’t be a good actor if I’m not allowing myself to experience life and fun.

BGC: Have you been able to build a support system around yourself? What does that look like?

I feel so grateful for my support system. I have amazing representation, an amazing day job with super awesome and motivating coworkers who are actively pursuing their life goals. I also have super supportive family and friends who tell me they’re proud of me just for being myself. My sister is also a great support system, someone I can speak and think out loud with no fear of judgment. I could not be any luckier.

BGC: Any advice for young creators/ones just starting?

It takes 10,000 hours to be a professional at anything. So just put in the hours, however that may look. Either do it, read about it, watch a YouTube video on it, whatever you have to do to learn about your craft and get better.

BGC: Any future projects?

I’m going to be doing a remounting of the stage production Rotterdam at the historic Kirk Douglas Theater in Culver City. It’s a short run, performances run from March 28 - April 7th, but it’s such a blessing to revisit this work with such a remarkable group of people. It’s a super funny and insightful play about gender and love.

In the television world I just finished wrapping a new AMC series starring Zachary Quinto and Ashleigh Cummings called NOS4A2. I don’t know the exact date it is to be released but it’s happening soon. The series is based of the hit novel by Joe Hill and it centers around a teenager (Cummings) who uses supernatural abilities to track down the seemingly immortal Charlie Manx (Quinto), who steals children and deposits them in “Christmasland.” I play a Detective Tabitha Hutter trying to suss out the truth. This series has supernatural fantasy, horror, action/adventure, procedural, and family drama. Everything you want to see.

#actress #Harry Potter #theater #actor #New York City #London #Los Angeles #Black Woman Creator #create

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babbinc · 6 years

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Drummond Breaks the Engagement (in which I continue an alternative story, because I can’t do a worse job than daisy)

It had been a tremendously exhausting day, and all Drummond wanted was to collapse in his bed. Perhaps he would just tumble in fully clothed. It really didn’t matter to him right now, as long as he might sleep soundly until the morning. He had endured a string of sleepless nights, being often awakened by vivid dreams—both good and bad—and worries of the days ahead.

In the shock of a bullet aimed at him that was blessedly diverted, he had resolved the night before to break off his engagement with Miss Florence Kerr, daughter of the Marquess of Lothian. He had come so close to his own death that he could practically taste hot lead on his lips. One did not walk away from such an event unchanged. He had held his life at arm’s length, looking in on it as might a judge evaluating the merits of a case. Frankly, he had found it wanting.

Long ago he had set a path for himself that included political aspirations and, as was naturally presumed, marriage. He had settled on a woman he was fond of, but for whom he felt neither love nor genuine desire; he had assumed these affections would follow in time. Marriage was a negotiation to be approached rationally, and he had done so with the goal of securing a suitable wife who would help advance his career, offer him pleasant company when he wished, bear the children he was expected to sire, and keep a home that was fashionable for entertaining and comfortable for family life. She would be a helpmate to facilitate his professional and social climb. Not once had the thought of consummation entered his mind. Oh, he knew the mechanics of it—he had learned that from friends at Oxford, who would regale him with tales of their visits to the brothels while Drummond had stayed in his room, studying late into the night. He had his family’s wealth, but unlike most of them, no title, so he felt constantly driven to prove himself. He had always assumed he was simply more industrious than his peers—more motivated—because he would have to make his own way in the world, having determined that the family bank was not to be his destination. It had never occurred to him that he hadn’t even the inkling of a desire to join his friends in their recreations.

So an engagement had been secured with a young woman with whom he had been acquainted for many years. Old family friends, he and Florence had known each other practically all their lives. From a young age, his parents had encouraged the match; her graces, charm, and lineage would benefit their Edward greatly in his professional aspirations. And they were hopeful that his kind regard for the girl might help their son establish with her a satisfying union much like their own. In turn, he offered Florence a future husband of great intellect, diligent work ethic, measured ambition, and political promise. His physical attractions were a welcome bonus—his good looks and pleasant demeanor were widely remarked upon, making them a most handsome couple indeed. Florence had been known to occasionally ponder how beautiful their children were bound to be.

But after the die was cast, Drummond had grown closer—first professionally and then personally—with the queen’s equerry, the delightful Lord Alfred Paget, and he had begun to feel trapped in a plan that now appeared fundamentally flawed. Florence didn’t know him—not the real him, not the him he wanted to be known by someone—and his feelings for this man had grown absolutely unmistakable over time. He had hoped he could ignore them, extinguish them, reason them away and lock them out of his mind, but when Lord Alfred was in the room (and they were so often in rooms together during his many visits to the palace), Drummond’s attention was invariably drawn to the beautiful man standing opposite. Fighting it was futile. At first he told himself stories to explain it away, but eventually these all rang hollow and he had come to understand how very much he desired Alfred. Not Florence nor anyone else. No one but Alfred. He knew this was wrong—flouting as it did both the church and the law—but he couldn’t help himself. He had never in his life felt so alive as when he was in Alfred’s company, and having shared a kiss on the royal trip to Scotland, he knew with absolute certainty that Alfred was the only person he wanted. It could not be justified in the eyes of society, but it could also not be wished away.

When he had first told Alfred upon their return to London of his plans to break off his engagement, he was most distressed at the way Alfred condescended, speaking to him as though he were a dim-witted child to be reprimanded. The same man who had only days before looked into his eyes with unreserved affection and returned his fevered kisses was now dismissing those beautiful moments as a mere indiscretion, which made Drummond angrier than he’d ever been in his life. He had stormed out of the restaurant—indignant, hurt, and confused. He was unable to return to the old ideas of an engagement and marriage, understanding his own desires so much better than he had before; yet he was also unable to move forward into some kind of a future with the man he adored. He had felt certain his feelings were requited, but began to question that, torturing himself by re-examining memories that had once tasted sweet, but now turned bitter on his tongue. Nothing made sense anymore.

He had thrown himself back into work, concentrating on the vexing vote to repeal the Corn Laws, hoping he could return to the quagmire of his personal life later and with a clearer head. And then just yesterday, a letter from Alfred seemed to extend an olive branch by inviting him to a resurrected dinner at the same restaurant. It had lifted his heart and he had determined to meet Alfred that night with a hope of finding some way forward, together. That evening’s engagement had nearly been permanently cancelled when Drummond found himself at the end of a gun. Having looked down its barrel before the pistol was pushed toward the sky, he gained a clarity he’d never had before. Fresh from that experience, he had determined to live his life as one might curate a museum—selectively choosing the most valuable items to cherish and display.

That meant discarding the rest, which included his plans for marriage and his engagement to Florence. He had finally made Alfred understand what had driven him to make such a radical choice, and so this man who made his heart sing had agreed to find some way to be together in this new—what? friendship? love? relationship? Drummond wasn’t sure what to call it; he only knew that he and Alfred were bound together in desire, affection, and a secret that only they could share.

And so this morning, he had penned a note to Florence, asking to be received at her parents’ town house in the evening. Her reply suggested he come early and stay to dinner with her family, but he knew that wouldn’t be possible once he had broken his news. He responded with some excuse about evening sessions required to complete the legislative calendar, but that he would have some time to come see her before he must return to the House. Would that be acceptable to her? Her affirmative answer reached him with little delay.

After that, he turned his attentions to work so as to forget about the stone in the pit of his stomach. How he would tell her, he did not yet know; only that it was best not to put it off. He hoped to phrase it in such a way that she might be less inclined to sue for breach of contract, and he also wished to spare her as much humiliation as possible, for he knew she would likely pay the highest social price for his mistake. As skilled as he was in shaping political arguments, he was having terrible trouble finding a tactic that might be effective in this matter of the heart. Instead, he tried not to think of it, even though he knew he needed a plan.

The day had dragged on. Every time the approaching appointment entered his mind, time seemed to slow even further and torture him with the many possible consequences. First, there was Florence’s own reaction. Would she be distraught? Angry? Disbelieving? Would she sob or throw things at him? Or would she sit stoically with no indication of her feelings at all? Then, there might be a severe financial blow to his family’s fortune, were Florence to sue for breach of contract. Of course, not to be underestimated was the damage gossip could do, tarnishing her reputation and perhaps raising questions of him that he would never be able to answer to anyone’s satisfaction. And under all of it loomed grave danger for Alfred and himself were the true nature of their friendship ever to be discovered.

All the worries crowded out his ability to think of an approach. He found himself more and more afraid that nothing would come to him. He had simply assumed some strategy would surface in his mind over the course of the day, but he had likewise assumed when he proposed to Florence that his desire for her would eventually grow, and that had turned out to be an awful mistake. Had he been hasty in setting this deadline for their conversation when he still had no idea how to broach the topic with her?

Eventually, it was time to go. He had decided to walk to the Marquess’ home on the Strand so he might clear his mind and write some kind of a speech in his head. With each step he felt like a dead man ascending the scaffold. The only things that kept him walking forward were the memory of that pistol and the fact that his first thought had been a desperate fear that he would never see Alfred again.

He was almost to their house with still no thought of what to say. As he approached the door, he took a deep breath and—picturing Alfred’s expectant face at that Scottish lake as he seemed to wordlessly command Drummond to kiss him—he reached out and firmly pulled the bell. He may not know quite how to say his piece, but he knew he must say it nonetheless.

Everything then moved very quickly, as time seemed to accelerate. He found himself waiting for Florence in the drawing room, hoping she would take her time so he could come up with something… anything… to say to her. But before he knew it, she was whisking into the room, her face brightened by a radiant smile. His heart fell. He did not want to be the reason that smile was about to disappear, yet there was no way around it.

She approached him with lively steps, exclaiming, “Edward, my dear! I was so delighted to hear from you today. I have made many decisions about our wedding that I wish to tell you.” As she reached him, she took his hands in hers and offered him her cheek to kiss. He did so, trying hard to neither offend nor give a false impression of his feelings and purpose.

“Florence, before you do, I have a matter of great importance to discuss with you.” His face must have looked quite serious, because Florence’s smile quickly evaporated, replaced with acute concern.

“Oh, my. You don’t look at all well. Perhaps we should sit, Edward.” He gratefully motioned for her to be seated first. He took his place next to her, taking her hands tentatively in his. “What can it be, my dear? You are worrying me.”

“I’m so sorry, Florence. I never mean to cause you any distress; please remember that.”

She looked at him questioningly.

“I don’t know whether news has reached you of the attempt on the Prime Minister’s life last night?”

“How awful! No, I hadn’t heard. Is he… quite alright?”

“Yes, yes, he is. In fact, no one was injured, thank God, and the assailant is now in gaol.”

“Oh, such a relief!”

“It is, but something happened—or, rather, something almost happened—that… changed me. Before the gun was thankfully diverted by an alert bystander, it was pointing directly at… not Sir Robert… but me.”

She gasped sharply. “My dear! How dreadful! I can’t imagine what I would have—“

“Please, Florence, I know this is a shock, but I need to finish telling you.”

“Of course.” She appeared to compose herself, but her eyes were clouded with concern.

“I have never known such a moment in my entire life. To be staring down the barrel of a gun, feeling certain it was about to be fired at me and probably end my life… it shook me, and it made me think very carefully about my future. Today feels like a gift I might never have been given.” Florence’s face was still worried, but did he also see a bit of suspicion now?

“We have known each other for such a very long time; I can’t quite remember my life without you in it. You have been a constant for me. I have so many fond memories of you from childhood; you have always been sweet and pleasant, and you’ve grown into such a lovely woman.”

Florence emitted a nervous laugh. “Edward, your words are dear, but you have already proposed to me, and I accepted, as you may recall. Whatever could this be about?”

His head seemed to be swimming; he couldn’t quite find the words he needed. “It’s about the future. Your future, my future. We’ve been such a part of each other’s pasts that I never considered… whether we really should be bound together for our futures.” Florence’s face fell and appeared to freeze in place as her eyes grew dark and her brow furrowed. “When I was forced to look at my life, I realized what a disservice I have done to you. Of course, you are everything I imagined I wanted in a wife, but I care for you too much to deny you the opportunity to marry a man who would love you as a wife should be loved. I thought I could be that man, but if I’m honest with myself and with you, I am not. You are very dear to me, but as a friend or perhaps a sister might be. And you deserve more than that, Florence. You deserve better than me.”

Silence. He waited for her face to change, for some expression that would tell him what would come next. They sat in silence for what felt to him like hours, until he saw tears welling up in her eyes. She didn’t look away from him as they began to roll down her cheeks.

“You are breaking our engagement, then. Is that what I am to understand?”

Drummond took a deep breath. “Yes, I’m afraid I am.”

“And you are telling me it’s for my own good.”

“I suppose you could say it that way.”

“I don’t understand this at all. Am I not good enough for you? Did I displease you somehow? Have you already made plans to marry someone else?”

“No, none of that, dear Florence. If anything, I am the one who is not good enough for you. I want to spare you every unhappiness. I know it doesn’t look that way at the moment, but I believe a future with me would lead to much greater sorrow in years to come than any distress you may feel now. I cannot do it to you. You deserve so much more than I could ever give.”

“Edward, my dearest, you can’t honestly believe I could ever be unhappy as your wife?” The tears were still rolling down Florence’s face. Drummond remembered his manners and offered her his handkerchief. She looked down at it and then back to his face. He’d never seen such sadness in her eyes, and he’d been with her when the beloved family dog, Phoebe, had been killed in a hunting accident. As she took his handkerchief, tears began to give way to convulsive sobs. Drummond braced himself; this was just the kind of scene he had hoped to avoid. Should he put an arm around her, or would that simply confuse matters? How could he be comforting? He felt awful that he’d done this to her; he was at a total loss as to what to say or do, so he just sat there, motionless.

Florence choked out through her tears, “This is a mistake, Edward. You don’t really mean this, do you?”

Drummond’s shoulders slumped and he closed his eyes. He had to stay strong, as horrible as this was. He pictured Alfred’s face again, recalling the moment after their first kiss and the image of his eyelashes fluttering upward as his translucent blue eyes met Drummond’s gaze. It was a moment as sublime as anything he could think of and it gave him a sense of peace and resolve.

“I’m afraid I do mean it. I cannot begin to tell you how very sorry I am. Hurting you is the last thing I ever wanted; it’s my fault for not having really known my own feelings before I proposed. I thought marriage was something to plan, but I wasn’t considering love. I don’t think either of us will be happy without love in our lives. Not just a dear, dear friendship, but real, true love. I want that for you, Florence; I do. I can’t let you make the terrible mistake of marrying me.”

“But Edward, all I want is to be your wife. It’s all I speak of with my friends. Breaking off our engagement will humiliate me. And who would ever want to marry me, knowing you’ve set me aside? How would I ever find such a love now? I will be marked as damaged goods.” Her sobs grew heavier.

“Florence, you have behaved with perfect propriety. No one would dare question your moral virtue, and I would certainly affirm—publicly, if need be—that you are faultless in all this. I will take every bit of the blame.”

“That’s all very well and good, but our engagement has been publicly announced. I don’t know of any way you could restore me now. This will be my ruin. ”

Drummond suddenly felt at a loss and dropped his head into his hands, as Florence’s sobs continued. How had he thought this would be simple? And why hadn’t he gotten her to agree to postpone the announcement—just until he could have cleared his head? He had to come up with a plan that would leave Florence blameless but release him from his promise.

“Perhaps there might be a way. You know, Sir Robert plans to step down. He’s lost the support of the party, and the Tories will be out of power. I’m soon to be out of a position, at least for the time being. We could say that I released you from our engagement in light of my uncertain future.”

“Do you really think people would believe such a thing?” Florence scoffed. “You may not have entered your family’s business, but everyone knows you would never be bereft of a livelihood. You will always have the means to provide for a wife and family. Such an explanation would convince no one.”

She was right; he was grasping at straws. Her voice, still strangled by crying, had begun to take on an edge of anger. He was quickly losing control of the situation—but of course it served him right for having created it in the first place.

Out of the blue, a thought began to take shape.

“Well, if our engagement was announced in the papers, perhaps its end should be as well.”

“This is a nightmare, Edward. I don’t know what in the world you’re babbling on about.”

“If there’s something I know how to do, it’s draft a convincing argument. I know this is highly unorthodox, but what if I were to write an announcement for the papers to declare the engagement nullified by mutual and amicable decision? You and your family would of course have the ability to approve my draft before I would ever submit it for publication. You can be assured of a fair representation.”

“What I ought to do is sue you for breach of contract!”

Drummond’s heart sank, but he knew he deserved both her ire and her worst threats.

“I would do it, too,” she continued, “if it wouldn’t put me on a par with the common rabble. The thought of others looking at me as some kind of working-class harpy… it makes my skin crawl. And it would likely seal my fate as an old maid. No one would want to marry me then; I would be forever scorned as a bitter, cast-off woman.”

“You still have all the qualities that made you such an attractive prospect as a wife. I believe I was not your only suitor, was I? There were many eligible bachelors who found you personable, charming, and lovely, and you are still all those things. I simply have to find the words to make it clear this was a decision taken together—nothing that will taint you either way—something that will affirm your suitability as a future wife. I believe I can do it.”

“I suppose there’s no changing your mind, is there?” Florence was sniffling now. Her sobs had died down, but her eyes were red-rimmed from crying and she looked at him with such terrible sadness. He wanted to make it better, but there was only so much he could do.

“Trust me, I’m saving you a world of unhappiness by breaking it off now.”

She gave a bitter laugh. “Perhaps that’s true, but it doesn’t relieve the dread I feel at having to show myself in public once this is known. I’ve never felt such shame.”

“The shame is all mine. I promise I will do all in my power to ensure that none of it falls on you.” She was avoiding his eyes, for she looked everywhere, it seemed, except at him.

“Your reassurances are now making things rather worse. I believe you should go, Edw—Mr. Drummond.” She stifled another sob, and wiped her tears with his handkerchief, which remained twisted and clenched in her hand. Drummond thought better of asking for it back. Instead, he rose, bowed quickly toward her, and turned on his heels to leave. As he slumped out of the room, he could still hear the occasional muffled sob. He left the house with all speed, grateful not to encounter either the Marquess or Marchioness on his way out.

He looked forward to a walk in the fresh air after his ordeal. Just the thing to clear his mind and settle his thoughts. But once outside, he found it had started raining quite heavily.

“How à propos,” he mumbled as he buttoned his coat, pulled up the collar, and marched off into the downpour. “It’s just what I deserve.”

He had started to walk back to the House, but there really was no reason to go there again and he hadn’t the ability to concentrate on work.

He supposed he should get dinner somewhere, but he wasn’t in the least bit hungry.

He contemplated going to the Palace and making some excuse to see Alfred, but he would simply end up recounting the ordeal at Florence’s and unfairly burdening him with it.

He thought perhaps he should just go straight home, but he was too restless to imagine sitting still.

So instead, he walked for more than an hour in the driving rain, attracting strange looks—this well-to-do young gentleman walking without purpose or umbrella, his stylish clothing matted and drenched. He moved in a daze, now aware of a burden to somehow extricate Florence from this mess he’d made. It monopolized his thoughts—that is, until memories of Alfred began creeping into his mind with greater frequency and insistence. Just the thought of him lightened Drummond’s heart until he realized that this new burden felt manageable and fleeting when measured alongside his expanding sense of freedom and hope. Back in Scotland, he’d been filled with dread over the prospect of returning to his life in London and what awaited him; that was gone. These several days back had indeed been tense—at times even terrible—but he felt certain that was behind him now.

By the time he reached his room, exhaustion had overtaken him, or perhaps it was simply a sense of peace descending and promising him restful sleep at last. He was just about to fall straight onto his bed before remembering that he really ought to remove his wet clothes. He did so quickly, laying the garments over various pieces of furniture to dry, but not bothering with a nightshirt. He chuckled to himself as he collapsed into bed and pulled the covers tight, “I’m like a newborn babe—naked and free from care.” He turned over and fell almost immediately into a sleep so deep that no dreams—and certainly no nightmares—would threaten to disrupt it.

#yup #that's how i imagine it #it may of course be entirely unrealistic #but i'm a romantic so sue me #i want my drumfred back #drummond lives dammit

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