#what if we held hands and compared our differences and also our similarities and grew closer together hahah jk jk unless 😳

[bitsandbobsofwriting]

The God of Magic just wants humanity to be happy and thriving;

Version 1, Good!Merlin

INTRO

(Version 2, Dark!Merlin)

~

“You’re late.”

From their place in the bushes, the gang can see a wide grin break out on the woman’s face as she raises an eyebrow:

“You’re always getting distracted by pretty flowers or interesting conversations, how was I supposed to know that you’d be on time for once?”

Her voice somehow sounds like an ocean in a storm, ear-splittingly loud as the sound cuts right through them to the core, but also a gentle stream, soft and clear and soul-cleansing. The gang struggle not to flinch in their confusion.

Merlin chuckles slightly, shaking his head as he softly replies:

“Ah, I see, you were expecting me to be late, so you told me to turn up half a candle-mark before you intended to get here.”

She raises an eyebrow and nods:

“In the hopes I wouldn’t have to stand around and wait too long,-”

She shudders slightly as her face falls, though she manages to look beautifully intimidating even with a slight scowl on her face:

“-you know how much I hate it up here, on dry land.”

Merlin nods. He looks around him passingly, and the gang tense as his eyes rove over their hiding place; their fear is quickly replaced with shock (and even more confusion) as it strikes them that they’ve never seen Merlin look so relaxed, so at ease. He finally looks back to the woman:

“Hmm. I may not agree with you on that, but I understand. I could have met you at Avalon, you know.”

The woman frowns even more, and the gang can see Merlin tilt his head in question, even more so when she replies:

“I... wanted this conversation to be private, away from the prying eyes and ears of Mother and our Siblings.”

Merlin’s shoulders tense, and Arthur can vaguely see the outline of his hands clenching tightly in his pockets as his cloak billows in a sudden wind. The knights, Gwen, and Morgana all look to each other in confusion, Merlin had never spoken of siblings before, in fact, they’re fairly certain he specifically told them that he’s an only child. This woman was so drastically different from Merlin in appearance, they couldn’t possibly be related by blood. Perhaps she means "siblings" in a similar sense to how the knights are brothers?

A tense silence passes between the two, but it’s quickly broken by Merlin letting out a deep, bone-weary sigh, his relaxed demeanour completely dissolved, and looking to the floor, mumbling:

“What’s this about, Ava?”

The woman, Ava, the gang now know, lets out a sigh of her own, tilting her head and waiting for Merlin to look at her again before speaking, her voice sounding more consistently soft the more she spoke, as if she needed practice to regulate her volume:

“I think you know, Em.-”

(”Em?? I guess that could be a shortened version of ‘Merlin’, but... not really.”)

“-Time is running out, existence is threadbare as it is, and only getting worse with each passing day. The world is splitting, cracking down the middle; magic is running thin-”

Everyone feels Arthur tense at the mention of magic, even more so at Merlin’s non-reaction to the word. Though everyone is already understandably on edge by the way the woman speaks as if the world is ending around them, and they hadn’t even noticed:

“-and we are starving. The fates of The Bane-”

Mordred manages to stop himself falling backwards, but his sudden shaky breath earns him a concerned glance from Gwaine, crouched besides him:

“-and The Darkness have been avoided, if you do not move forward now, then when? With every day you stall, you plan, you stand idly by and wait, we choke on the gaping emptiness of a world that is leaking.-”

Merlin holds up a shaking hand to stop her, his other running through his hair in frustration as he murmurs:

“I know, I know-”

The gang watches with tense, morbid curiosity as Ava cuts him off, her expression both annoyed and sympathetic:

“I don’t think you do, Em. You haven’t been home in years. Could you stand it? To be God of Magic with no Magic to be God over? No universe to hold dominion over?”

Merlin scoffs slightly and walks to the side in his frustration, and the gang can see the melancholy annoyance on his face, plain as day. It’s almost enough to make them forget that he visited Ealdor just last month. It’s definitely not enough to distract them from the fact that she had called Merlin a God. The God of Magic, of all things. What the fuck??:

“I don’t hold dominion over anything I just... am.”

Ava rolls her eyes:

“That’s not the point and you know it. Mother sent you to fix the problem, to stop the purge, to encourage the Once and Future King to bring magic back and start the Golden Age. He has been King for years, but you still act as a servant. You are a God, Em, assert yourself. You could fix the world with a click of your fingers, but you wait for the humans to do it for you.-”

Merlin interrupts her slightly impassioned speech with a deep huff and a shake of the head. From where he now stands, the gang have a healthy view of his side profile, and they can see the emotions warring on his face: frustration, grief, desperation:

“That isn’t... that’s not what I’m doing-”

She rolls her eyes again and the gang are vaguely aware of a distant crack of thunder as she gestures sharply with her hands:

“That is what you’re doing. You’ve become too attached to these... mortals.-”

She steps towards him, cradling his cheek in a soft, elegant hand as her face morphs to one of complete and utter sorrow:

“-You’re setting yourself up for heartbreak, Brother. Human lifespans, the lifespan of your precious Golden King, are but a blink of an eye compared to ours; they will all wither and die and fade from you, and you will be left with your grief forever.-”

Her other hand lifts to settle comfortingly on his shoulder, and the gang can see a single tear slip from Merlin’s lowered eyes:

“-Do what you came here to do, and come home, to Avalon, we miss you, Em, the family needs you back.”

Merlin stills for a few moments at her desperate plea, but then steps back, shrugging her hands off gently and wiping the tear from his face:

“No. I... I’m doing this properly. Mother understands my fondness for humanity, that’s why she sent me, and I’m going to do it properly.”

Ava huffs out a gentle laugh at his determined expression, shaking her head slightly in fond disbelief:

“How can you love them? These... humans, when they slaughter your creations, when they don’t even know what you are?”

Merlin smiles softly, his eyes gazing into the trees as he quietly responds, his voice full of enough adoration to take the gang's breath away, to temper the twinge of fear and betrayal that had been swelling in Arthur’s lungs:

"I love them because they don't know what I am. It's nice, to be human; to walk among them, being loved and hated and respected and touched as if I were not more than they could ever possibly comprehend. Humanity is... made of juxtapositions. Their existence is contradiction upon contradiction, weaved together and held with emotions so large I can scarcely understand how they're contained in such little bodies. I've been alive and watching them for millennia, lived side-by-side with them for almost three decades, and they still surprise me. To walk among them, to see them come to terms with this universe that We made for them, to see how desperately they crave knowledge, exploration, experience... it's beautiful. The way they love so fully, the way they find meaning and importance in every grain of sand, every ray of sun, every tuft of fur on every creature, it's humbling. It's astounding."

Ava has a soft smile on her face, looking as if she could listen to her Brother ramble about his love for humanity for decades. She shakes her head slightly, letting out a gentle sigh as she asks:

"Then why won't you save them? The Gods will starve without magic, but humanity will starve without the Gods."

Merlin pauses for a moment, his face scrunched in concentration as he tries to think of the right way to verbalize his thoughts. 

The gang stare on in unconcealed bafflement; the realisation that Merlin is some kind of God brings less fear or anger than they think it should. Maybe it’s the shock, or maybe it’s the reverent way he speaks about them. Either way, they stay still and silent in their hiding place, and eventually Merlin’s face settles back into a soft smile as he looks to his Sister:

"I wish to see them save themselves, not because We need them to, but because they want to. Because their desperation to explore this universe will one day outweigh their misguided hatred of magic.-"

He nods decisively, repeating in a confident voice:

"-I wish to see them save themselves."

Ava sighs once more, stepping toward Merlin and putting her hand back on his shoulder:

“Your wishes may soon become... irrelevant. We’re dying, Emrys,-”

Arthur struggles to hold in a gasp at that. Emrys. He knows that name. Apparently it’s the name of a God, and not just some secret sorcerer who took a fancy to Camelot and deemed himself it’s protector. Lancelot’s eyes widen, though he manages to hide his shock well; no one else is focused on anyone else’s reactions, all internally freaking out. 

Mordred is pale and breathing shallowly, being the only one in the group who had already known the full truth. Percival looks to be in shock, he grew up with the stories of Emrys, but to learn that Emrys was a God? That Merlin was said God? Not what he was expecting out of this little trip. Gwaine, Gwen, Morgana, and Elyan look worried, seeming to have pushed aside their shock in favour of being concerned over Merlin’s safety and sorrow. Leon stares upon the scene with scholarly-looking curiosity, hiding his apprehension and shock well. Arthur’s expression is... unreadable. Ironically, the only person capable of knowing what he was thinking just from looking at him was currently having an incredibly terrifying conversation with someone who is also presumably some kind of God(dess). 

“-time is running out. I know that you don’t want to, but... it might be best to tell them the truth. You adore your humans because of their ability to love, do you not think they love you enough to forgive you your deceptions?”

Merlin clenches his jaw, and it’s the anguish on his face, paired with his almost-whispered words, that breaks their hearts:

“I... no. Just because I love them does not mean they love me back. I’m just a servant, Ava, I’ll never be important enough to be forgiven, God or not; I’ve lied to them for over ten years.”

She sighs, letting a tear of her own fall as she quietly responds:

“Emrys, you undervalue your worth, they don’t-”

“No. I don’t. You’re right, I have one life-time with them, with... with Arthur, and then I’ll lose them, and I’ll spend the rest of eternity grieving. I refuse to taint the already short time I have with them by having to watch them grow to hate me. I refuse.”

Merlin frowns as Ava rolls her eyes fondly, a victorious smirk on her face:

“If you would let me finish. They don’t hate you now, despite learning what they have just learnt, and you have yet to tell them of all you’ve done for them. Their love for you will only grow, Brother.”

Merlin tilts his head and raises an eyebrow. The gang take in a collective gasp at the realisation that she knows. And has likely known the whole time.

“What are you talking about?”

Ava’s smirk just grows, and she looks to the bushes the gang is hiding in, seeming to make direct eye-contact with a panicking Arthur as she speaks, he voice echoing unnaturally through the clearing:

“You can come out now.”

At her words, Merlin’s head whips around to stare at where she was looking. He opens his mind, allows his magic to stretch around him, and his skull is immediately full to burst with echoes of Mordred’s earlier, and ongoing, warnings, as well as the overwhelming presence of The (former) Darkness, The Once and Future King, and the others. He takes a stumbled step back, hand covering his mouth and tears spilling from his eyes as he becomes more and more convinced of... well... his time being tainted.

The gang stand and shuffle out of the bushes slowly, eyes trained on the floor and hands clasped in front of them tightly. It’s Merlin’s quiet, cracking “No...” that has them look up, paling at the absolute heartbreak on his face.

Lancelot and Gwaine give him weak, though genuine smiles, holding their hands out placatingly, but they halt their movements forward when Merlin just copies them pace for pace, moving away from them.

No one notices Ava rolling her eyes, not until she steps behind Merlin and puts a halting hand on his shoulder, stopping him from moving further away.

Merlin whips his head around, and another loud clap of thunder sounds out, much closer than the other one, quickly followed by a sudden downpour of frigid rain. The gang look to the sky in confusion, and Mordred desperately tries to reach Merlin through the mental link, offering comfort and reassurance; Merlin doesn’t seem to notice, the rain falling harder and harder as he almost fall to his knees, speaking in a desperate voice to his sister:

“Why... why would you... you know what this means. Why... why would you do this?! Ava?”

She rolls her eyes again, seeming to glow effervescently under the rivers of rainwater running down her face and over her clothes. She forces Merlin to turn and look at the gang, holding her hands on his shoulders to stop him from backing away (or collapsing in his grief) :

“Look at them, Em. Do they look angry to you? You should have some faith in the humans you claim to love so much. Look at them.”

Everyone in the gang gives Merlin varying levels of strained smiles; though Merlin, in his panic, is unable to tell that the strain is from concern and guilt, thinking that it was instead from hatred. He falls to his knees, his eyes shut tight enough to give him a headache and his hands clamped over his mouth in an effort to hold the sobs in.

Gwen and Morgana are the first to rush forwards, not paying the slightest bit of attention to Merlin’s... sister or the knights as they collapse to the floor in front of their friend, not sure whether to keep their distance or try to comfort the distraught man... God.

It’s his next choked sob that urges them to move once again, and the girls pull Merlin into a hug, tears of their own gathering at his agony. He freezes at first, then tries to pull away as lightening streaks across the sky, the violent bursts in sync with his choked breaths. When Gwen strokes a soft hand through his knotted hair, and Morgana pulls him further into her lap, muttering “We’re not leaving you, Merls, not ever, we love you.”, he relaxes slightly.

The thunder and lightening cease, but the rain still pours as Arthur stares over the pile of crying bodies to the woman, whose eyes seem to be growing brighter and brighter in the deluge. She stares right back at him, and The King jumps slightly when her voice echoes through her head, despite her still face:

“My brother has lost enough, please do not shatter his heart.”

Arthur nods once, before following Lancelot’s lead to the others, the rest of the knights not far behind them as Ava disappears. Whether she walked away without noticing or simply faded into the rain, no one knows, but no one really cares either. Soon enough, everyone is gathered around Merlin, stroking his back softly and whispering comforting promises over the sound of the rain. When Leon is the only one to notice Mordred’s eyes flash golden as he summons a shield above them, he simply shrugs his shoulders and refocuses his attention on muttering reassurances in Merlin’s head.

His breathing slows after a while, as does the rain, though everyone panics slightly when they see Morgana frown as she strokes the hair away from his face, revealing flushed cheeks and closed eyes. Mordred’s eyes flash golden once more as he presses a hand to his forehead, though no one lets the shock distract them for too long, latching on to his relieved tone:

“He’s just asleep, that would’ve taken a lot out of him. We should get him back to Gaius.”

The knights all stand, stretching and cracking joints to try and rid themselves of the cold stiffness that had settled in their soaked bones. Morgana stays on the floor, clutching at Merlin in her lap desperately, like he could slip away at any moment. When Arthur leans down to pick him up, she shoots him a glare, her own eyes glowing as the wind picks up once more, whipping through the clearing in an obvious warning. Arthur takes in a gasp, but shakes the surprise from his mind as he settles a soft hand on his sister’s shoulder:

“I... look, we’ll talk about this later, and I promise you’re going to be safe,-”

He glances up to an equally defensive looking Mordred:

“-all three of you, but Mordred’s right, we need to get him home and warmed up.”

Morgana hesitates for only a second, but the concern (and love) in her brother’s eyes sway her, and she nods, ever-so-carefully pulling her arms from around Merlin and helping Arthur get the younger (or... much much older) man situated in his arms before standing up.

~

The trek back to the castle is a fairly short one now they don’t have to worry about being quiet, and the rain has almost completely stopped by the time they make it to the citadel gates. It’s late, so the only people they come across are the occasional guard. But The King resolutely ignoring them as he carries his unconscious manservant through the corridors, his closest friends and advisors around him either openly crying or blinking away tears... well... it’s something that very much screams “DO NOT DISTURB US DO NOT SPEAK OF THIS IMMEDIATELY FORGET EVERYTHING YOU HAVE JUST SEEN”.

Elyan runs ahead to wake Gaius and warn him, so by the time everyone gets to the Physician’s chambers the fire is roaring, a patient pallet has been moved in front of the hearth, and Gaius himself is bustling around, preparing various concoctions and tinctures and blankets.

Merlin’s still shivering form is laid on the pallet, and Morgana shamelessly uses her magic to pull the heat closer and dry out his clothes. Mordred sits protectively close to the servant, one hand subconsciously close to his sword, the other resting on Merlin’s shoulder. Gwen settles between him an Morgana, and the knights figure that with her complete non-reaction to the magic... she probably already knew, she was smart like that. Gaius finally makes his way to Merlin’s side, tipping a gross smelling potion down his throat and running a hand through his hair, frowning worriedly down at his ward. 

Not a single word had been said since they entered through the castle gates, and Arthur is the first to break the silence, sitting on Merlin’s other side, opposite Morgana, and settling an almost accusing expression on his sister:

“You knew, didn’t you?”

She looks up at him, somehow appearing powerful and intimidating despite being soaked through and shivering:

“I knew he was... powerful, I didn’t know he was a God.”

Gaius’ head whips around quickly, and Arthur is surprised at the questioning horror on his face:

“A God?? There must be some mistake, Merlin is powerful yes but he’s not-”

Mordred’s quiet voice interrupts him, though he doesn’t look away from the unconscious man as his fingers twitch over so slightly closer to the hilt of his sword:

“I knew. Though if I’d known he felt so... if I’d known how he felt, I would have spoken to him about it sooner, I apologise.”

Everyone looks at the group’s youngest member in shock, almost speechless, but Gwaine stutters slightly before clearing his throat and trying again:

“So... that was real, Merlin is a fucking God.”

Mordred nods absent-mindedly, eyes flashing golden as he presses his hand to Merlin’s forehead once again, frowning. Arthur’s brow creases in concern and he leans closer to Merlin:

“What is it? Is he ok??”

Before Mordred can reply, Leon speaks up, his voice tired, but strong:

“If he’s some... powerful God, then why is he hurt in the first place? Shouldn’t he be able to resist any sort of injury or sickness??”

Mordred shakes his head, finally looking away from Merlin to gaze at the group surrounding him. He looks doubtful at first, but when he sees the genuine concern on everyone’s faces, especially from Gaius and Arthur, he sighs and speaks softly:

“It’s difficult to describe. Merlin could access the full range of his power and do anything, if he wanted, but it’s draining and complicated when stuck in a human body. He himself is a God, yes, but this form is still vulnerable and mortal; he can get injured, and sick, he can die, or at least the body can. Merlin tends to repair this body when that happens, instead of moving on. He... likes it here.”

Everyone nods, understanding at least a little, though Gaius and Lancelot look the most shell-shocked. The room goes silent once again, and Percival, sat on the floor against the end of Merlin’s pallet with Elyan and Gwaine, is the first to speak, his voice shaking and sorrowful:

“He really thinks so low of himself. He’s a God... and he was terrified of the thought of us hating him, as if such a thing were even possible.”

Gwaine curses under his breath and Leon restarts his slow pacing around the room before he stops suddenly, turning to face the others with a look of anger on his face:

“Well of course he thinks it’s bloody possible. He’s right, we treat him like a fucking servant even though he’s one of our dearest friends, and half of us talk about the evils of sorcery on a near constant basis. He’s the God of Magic, of course he’d think we would hate him.”

Everyone is taken aback at Leon’s rage, though no one can deny that what he’s said is true. Leon is... quietly protective of everyone in the group, and it’s a time like this that reminds all of them that he had known Merlin just as long as Arthur had, and definitely held a certain brotherly affection for the younger (uh... yeah, whatever) man.

The older knight sags slightly, seemingly realising how exhausted he is, and pulls a chair up next to Arthur before collapsing in it, head in his hands. Arthur pats him on the back a few times before looking back to Merlin’s now thankfully not-shivering form, taking in a deep breath and nodding his head decisively:

“Well, we’ll just have to show him that it isn’t possible. I... we need to show him that he’s... important to us. Loved.”

Morgana just raises her eyebrow at The King, but doesn’t say anything as Gaius mutters a tearful “My poor boy.” under his breath. Elyan stands from his place on the floor, moving to perch on a bench behind his sister and setting a comforting hand on her shoulder as he softly speaks:

“He needs to know that we want him to stay here, with us.”

Percival shakes his head slightly, looking conflicted:

“Wouldn’t that be... cruel? That woman... Ava, was right. We’ll all grow old and die and he’s a God, he’ll live forever and he’ll grieve. Isn’t asking him to stay selfish?”

No one has an answer, and the room grows silent, everyone stewing in their own tense thoughts, trying to weigh the pros and cons, trying to measure exactly how selfish they were willing to be when it came to Merlin.

~

The sun rising over the horizon and peaking through the uncovered windows is what wakes everyone (bar Merlin) from their fitful sleeps. All of them had been plagued with odd dreams and nightmares through the night, so despite their exhaustion, they were grateful to be awake.

No one said anything though, waking one by one and pacing briefly around the room in an attempt to cure themselves of the aches gained from falling asleep in such awkward positions.

It’s still incredibly early in the morning, so thankfully none of them are needed for at least two more candle marks, but it’s Lancelot who breaks the silence first, clearing his throat and looking down at his best friend:

“It wouldn’t be selfish.”

Arthur looks up to him, noting the bags under everyone’s eyes and the tear tracks no one had bothered to wipe away:

“What are you talking about?”

The knight runs a hand through his hair, sniffling slightly and taking a deep breath before he stares around the room, making sure everyone was awake and paying attention as he spoke:

“For us to tell him we want him to stay, it wouldn’t be selfish. You heard him, he loves it here, he’s desperate to stay, he loves us. He still has at least thirty years worth of memories to make with us, and yeah, maybe that’s not a lot in the grand scheme of the immortal life of a God, but it’s more than the ten he’s already got. We can’t take that away from him. He... he wants to be here. Telling him to leave just to alleviate our own guilt... that would be selfish.”

Everyone looks a little doubtful, bar Mordred, and it’s him that Arthur turns to:

“Mordred? You knew... what he is, which we are still definitely going to have a conversation about by the way, what do you think?”

Mordred sighs, biting his lip for a moment before finally ripping his gaze from Merlin’s still unconscious, but now healthier looking body:

“He is more than any of us will ever be able to comprehend. You still see him as just Merlin, he is, but he’s also much more; he is Emrys, the saviour, the God, the Guiding Light. He is magic itself, woven into the fabric of the universe. He inhabits every space, and no space at the same time, he exists in every grain of sand, every drop of ocean, every speck of sky. To... to assume that he is not capable of deciding what he wants is an act of unforgivable hubris. If he stays, who are you to demand he leave and name yourselves selfish, when he has not deemed it so?”

Arthur pales slightly at Mordred’s words, as does everyone else. Gwaine seems to be taking it in his stride, and Lancelot seems less surprised than Arthur thinks he should (definitely something to question, but not right now), but before anyone can say anything, Merlin twitches, a low groan escaping his throat as his brows crease.

Everyone moves quickly, gathering around his bedside in a huddle. Morgana, Mordred, and Gwen are grateful to still be sat in their seats, and if they weren’t so busy worriedly leaning over Merlin they would be rolling their eyes at the way the others were pushing and shoving to be at the front. Gaius elbows his way to be stood by Merlin’s head, a cold compress in one hand and a grey looking potion in the other.

Morgana strokes a hand through Merlin’s hair and the frown on his face eases; he blinks his eyes open, swallowing before grimacing at the taste in his mouth and groaning again. Gwen leans over his head, smiling as she settles a hand on his warm cheek:

“Morning sleepyhead. How are you feeling?”

Merlin just groans again, rubbing his shaking hands harshly into his eyes as he says, his voice dry and painful-sounding:

“Ugh. Like Arthur’s aim got miraculously better.”

Arthur rolls his eyes and flushes slightly, but before he can defend himself Merlin bolts upright, taking in a deep, ragged breath, eyes wide. Mordred focuses a concentrated expression on the side of Merlin’s head, but Arthur ignores it as he reaches forward, settling a hand on the dark-haired man’s shoulder and muttering his name:

“Merlin?”

Merlin’s breathing only gets deeper as he whips his head around to stare at Arthur. The blonde tries to smile comfortingly at him, but Merlin barely seems to notice as he scrambles back on the bed, only stopping when he comes into contact with Leon behind him.

Mordred’s face morphs into a concerned frown at Merlin’s terror, and now his tears, so instead of waiting for the man to calm down enough to let them explain, he rushes forward, grabbing the back of Merlin’s head and forcing their foreheads together before he can pull away. He shuts his eyes tightly, muttering some sort of incantation under his breath. Merlin gasps loudly and Mordred groans, holding their heads together for a few moments before collapsing back into his seat, clamping his hands over his eyes as if trying to press a headache away. Merlin slumps back against the warm body behind him, and Leon just about manages to catch him in strong arms before he falls to the floor.

This had all happened in the space of a few moments, and when the two of them still, the others unfreeze. Arthur turns on Mordred:

“What did you do?? What was that?!”

Mordred groans again, looking up blearily, first at Merlin, who seems to be in a similar state to him, leant against Leon, and then to Arthur:

“He wasn’t calming down, so I shared my memories. From when we met at the edge of the forest yesterday, to just before he woke up. It’ll take him a little longer than me to sort through them.”

Arthur nods and Morgana looks impressed, and everyone looks to Merlin again, waiting for him to pull the hands from his eyes and talk to them, look at them, anything.

He finally seems to relax his muscles and Leon rubs his hands up and down his arms softly; despite the fact that he’d been warmed by the fire, the knight was still oddly worried about Merlin being too cold. He lets out a deep breath, lowering his shaking hands as he slowly raises his teary gaze, staring at Arthur:

“You... you want me to stay?”

Arthur ignores the tears dripping down his cheeks as nods desperately, forcing a soft smile on his face as he sniffles:

“Yes. Please. We don’t want you to go, we don’t hate you.”

Merlin launches himself at Arthur and the only thing stopping The King from falling back from Merlin’s surprising weight is Percival’s hand on his back. Arthur wraps his arms tightly around Merlin’s middles, turning his head to press a kiss to the other man’s temple as he tries to get his tears under control; he completely ignores the others in favour of muttering into Merlin’s hair:

“It’s alright, Merlin. You stay here, with us, as long as you want. We... I, love you. Stay, please.”

Merlin just sobs harder, gripping the back of Arthur’s tunic as he kneels on the bed, his response stuttering and barely understandable:

“But- but I’m-”

Arthur just hushes him, stroking a hand through his hair and giving everyone else in the room pointed looks. They all crowd around Merlin again, placing comforting hands on his back and shoulders and arms and hands. Mordred whispers his adoration in Merlin’s head, and Morgana presses a kiss to the nape of his neck, all in the hopes of convincing him that the memories he had were true.

His breathing finally calms, and Arthur shuffles to the side so he can sit down next to him, not daring to remove the arms from around his neck or push him away. Merlin pulls away himself when Arthur settles, but doesn’t move far, and there’s no space between them as he hastily wipes the tears from his face, staring at him lap, cheeks flushed. Arthur takes his hand slowly in his, but Merlin still doesn’t look up, so Morgana kneels in front of him, placing her hand on his knee softly and saying with a teasing smirk on her face:

“You know, if I’d known that my teacher was The God of Magic, I might’ve complained less at the studying you make me do.”

Merlin finally looks up at her, a weak smile on his face, and Morgana winks at him. It’s Gwaine who tries next, settling on Merlin’s other side and sighing loudly:

“Forget the God thing do you know how many pranks we could’ve pulled if you’d told me you had magic?? Can’t believe you’d take that opportunity from me, all of you.”

He gives Mordred and Morgana jokingly offended glares and they roll their eyes, though their attention is quickly drawn back to Merlin, whose hands are clenching tightly in his lap. The room goes dark all of a sudden, and a glance to the window would tell them that the clear morning was suddenly overcast, thunder rumbling in the distance as rain slammed against the glass. Arthur squeezes Merlin’s hand and quickly, though gently, shoves Morgana out of the way, kneeling in front of Merlin and lifting his chin with his free hand:

“It’s fine, Merlin. We’ve all got a ton of questions but everything’s going to be alright, I swear. In fact, I’m glad we found out, it was cruel of us to make you live in a kingdom where you aren’t accepted, but that changes now, I promise.”

Merlin stands suddenly and walks between them, taking a deep breath before turning suddenly a scowl on his face:

“It wasn’t her choice to make, it was mine, and she took it from me.-”

With every harsh the thunder grew closer and the glass in the window frame shook more violently:

“-I was going to tell you after you changed your mind about magic because it had to come from the heart. You can’t change the Kingdom just for my sake! I wanted to do it properly and she took that from me because she was bored!”

Everyone rushes to say something in an effort to calm him down, both for the safety of the windows and his happiness, but Arthur’s blunt-

“Why?”

-stops them in their tracks. Merlin looks to him sharply, though Arthur is grateful for the thunder quietening down as he replies:

“What do you mean why? Why what?”

Arthur huffs out a gentle laugh, shaking his head in disbelief:

“Why can’t I change the Kingdom for you? You’re important, you’ve touched so many lives in so many wonderous ways; that in itself tells me that magic isn’t evil, so why can’t I change the Kingdom for you?”

The thunder stops and the rain slows to a gentle patter as Merlin tilts his head, his scowl of anger morphing into a sad, confused frown as he responds in a small voice:

“But... I’m just a servant. You’re not doing it out of fear, so I’m still just... nobody important.”

Arthur just laughs again, walking towards Merlin and settling soft hands on his shoulders, grateful to feel the others close to his back:

“You have never once been just a servant, Merlin. Something tells me you’ve been saving my life, and this Kingdom, since the day we met, so even if it had no effect on anyone else whatsoever, I would still change the law. Because you are a good man, and you are important, and you deserve it. Compared to you, it is us, who are just human.-”

Merlin frowns again and Arthur rolls his eyes to stop him arguing:

“-Just... give me another hug, and accept it. You idiot.”

He can feel someone (probably Morgana) thump him on the back, but he doesn’t turn around, eagerly returning Merlin’s hug when the brunette wraps his arms around Arthur’s middle tightly. The King presses closer, uncaring of what his audience thinks of him for the first time in his life (probably because he has a feeling that they’ve known of his... affections, longer than even he has) and  mutters his question into Merlin’s ear:

“We... I love you, Merlin, more than anything. Will you stay with me?”

The King is vaguely aware of his First Knight whispering “I told you so, idiot.” behind him, but all he cares about is the sensation of the God, more ancient and powerful than anything he could ever comprehend, nodding into is neck.

THE END!!

I really enjoyed writing this, and I hope y’all like it!!

Link to the Dark!Merlin version (I warn you, it’s hella angsty) is at the top!! :)

#merthur #bbc merlin #merlin #good mordred #good morgana #mordred #bbc mordred #sir mordred #morgana #gwen #guinevere #gaius #leon #sir leon #lancelot #sir lancelot #gwaine #sir gwaine #elyan #sir elyan #percival #sir percival #god merlin au #god merlin #god!merlin #bamf merlin #magic reveal #ban repeal #avalon #camalot

[imagining-in-the-margins]

Here to Misbehave (Finale | S.R.)

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Finale |

Summary: It’s Halloween, and there are a lot of things on Spencer’s mind.

A/N: Here it is, everyone: the end of the story. Thank you so much to everyone who’s read this far. I greatly appreciate all of you, and I hope you enjoy it!   Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader Category: Fluff/Smut (NSFW, 18+) Content Warning: Penetrative sex, light D/s, mostly fluff! Word Count: 7.5k

—————————————————

Autumn has widely been considered the season of change. It is an understandable characterization; from the shifting hues of the leaves to the wildly fluctuating temperatures, few things stayed consistent in the fall. Perhaps that’s why someone who loathes change, someone like me, finds the season so thrilling.

It’s like the Earth and the Sun made a pact to make changes more predictable in their own unique, chaotic way. The breeze becomes biting and the days become shorter, but for these downfalls, we are granted a beauty and calmness that can’t be rivaled by any other season.

But she wasn’t a season, and when it came to my attention and appreciation, there were few choices that were easier to make.

“Spencer. You’ve got to be kidding me.”

(Y/n)’s face was half covered by the cup she held tightly with both hands, but I could picture the hidden expression perfectly, regardless.

“What? We don’t have to agree on everything.”

The truce was received poorly, her response a heavy scoff and a shake of her head. I tried to follow along with her suddenly heated words but couldn’t contain the stars in my eyes that often accompanied my daydreams. If she did notice, she stubbornly ignored the adoration to continue, “I understand you’re a genius or whatever, but I think your opinions on cider and cocoa are... wrong. They are wrong.”

It was my turn to feign displeasure (I hoped hers wasn’t real, anyway), clutching tighter to my own drink that I found myself defending on a park bench with dozens of strangers as an audience.

“An opinion can’t be wrong!” I chirped, only hating the way my voice jumped a little bit. After all, it was hard to hate it when it made her giggle. But despite how much sweeter the liquid seemed when I drank it in the presence of her smile, I also knew that she wouldn’t appreciate my immediate agreement. So, I pushed back just a little, “It can be misguided or ignorant but not outright wrong.”

“Unless it’s yours, on this topic,” she shot back without hesitation.

I tried to flash her a pout, hoping that maybe it would work for me like it did for her. It did not. Her eyebrows shot up and her jaw dropped open with another laugh, and I decided that I preferred that outcome, anyway. The longer my bottom lip stuck out, the wider her smile got. I waited to stop until her eyes closed and turned away, just long enough for me to let the full force of my affection show before she noticed.

She saw it, anyway, in the form of a similar smile spread over my face when I softly admitted, “Fine. You’re right.”

“Oh, I know.”

Her tongue peeked between her lips, and I found myself thinking less of cider and cocoa and more about how unbelievably lucky I was to find someone that I never felt the need to prove anything to. A person that didn’t care if I held all the answers.

I might’ve continued down that sappy train of thought, but it was hard to do while she had hoisted herself halfway over the table to try and grab hold of my cup right as I went to drink from it. Of course, she had failed to take into account just how big the table was, and just how close I was willing to come to falling before I let her drink from my cup right after she’d criticized my preference of fall flavors.

For a second, I really thought she might climb onto the table to win, but the judgmental looks from the parents in the park must have beaten her desire to win. As forlorn as humanly possible, she fell back into her seat with a loud “Hmph!” which really only managed to elicit an equally immature giggle from me.

“Shut up,” she laughed before shoving my paper plate further into my chest, “And eat your stupid pie.”

All I could think as she grabbed my fork and stabbed the middle of the piece to try to lift the entire thing at once, was that I was right about one thing: Autumn, in all its vitality and beauty, could still never compare to her.

That thought persisted through the pumpkin patch, growing in intensity as she skipped through the vine-laden path like a regular fall fairy. It was much easier to get lost in her there, crouched and inspecting foliage. Her arguments regarding gourds were much less spirited, with her watching me wide-eyed and curious as I explained the stages of pumpkin growth and all the different uses for the fruit.

I still let her make the final choices, opting to analyze her selections and tease her for them later, instead. That was the plan, anyway, to continue the competitiveness lest she gets bored with me before the day was over. When she walked past me holding open the passenger side door, I thought it might’ve already happened.

But then she just placed the pumpkin into my hands so she could open the back door. Before I could even move, she carefully removed it from my arms again and placed it in the seat.

“What are you doing?” I said through a very amused chuckle.

She was decidedly not entertained by my confusion, stopping to turn to me with a bored, frustrated expression. “I’m buckling him in,” she explained slowly, like I might need the help. Then, to add insult to silly injury, she added, “Duh.”

I was too distracted by the details to tackle the absurdity of it all.

“Him? It’s a boy pumpkin?”

“Obviously. Look at him,” she snorted, finally clicking the seatbelt in before tenderly petting the top of the lucky little gourd. Once she was convinced it would be as safe as she could make it, she allowed me to begin to escort her into her proper seat.

“You know it’s safer on the floor, right?” I asked before she’d slipped past me. I wrapped an arm around her, pulling her away from the car so I could enjoy the warmth of her before it was replaced with the dry air of the engine.

“How dare you,” she balked with an open mouth that was just begging to be kissed. By the time I got close enough to try, though, her hand fervently shoved my cheek away. I tried to laugh, but she used the same hand to cover the noise, trying and failing to convince me she was being serious.

“Why don’t you just hold him?” I mumbled against her palm.

That was enough for her to abandon my embrace altogether. With a scoff and a roll of her eyes, she pried my arms off of her and finally made her way to my passenger seat. I didn’t fight her too hard, even taking the time to shut her door like my mother always insisted.

The mercy was not returned, with her eyes narrowed into a playful disbelieving glare that I hadn’t seen in some time. My mind was brought back to the first time she ever let me know she was jealous, bickering over blondes and preferences while she sat in the very same place. And, just as before, she was still wearing the same raggedy old sweatshirt of mine.

“If this is any indication of how you’ll be with a human baby, I have dramatically overestimated your competence,” she droned, obviously unaffected by the stars that appeared in my eyes every time I looked at her.

“The one and only time you’ll ever be able to say those words. I hope you enjoyed it,” I joked. A funny enough joke that she couldn’t help but smile through her facade.

“Don’t worry,” she chuckled, “I did.”

The day could have ended there, and it would have been enough. Honestly, I couldn’t think of a single thing that wouldn’t be better with her there. In a way, I think we were trying to prolong the high of ‘hooky,’ finding even the faintest interest in an activity as enough of an excuse for a detour.

… Which was probably how we found ourselves in our third park of the day. After all, I loved any autumnal vision, so how could I decline an opportunity to let them serve as a backdrop for watching her? And that was an accurate description of how I spent the day. It might sound boring, and if it were anyone else, it probably would have been. But no matter how often I saw her, I found myself learning new things about her every single time. Each freckle and scar became a part of the high-definition collection of memories that I would never let myself forget. The most beautiful images that kept me sane in the face of evil and filth.

“Do you see that?”

For a moment, I thought she might have read my mind. But then I realized that her eyes were still fixed forward, stuck on the horizon ahead of us.

“See what?”

“That,” she pointed, “Right there.”

My eyes followed the line, finding nothing but an area of carefully manicured, yellow grass and trees already set to rest for the season. It must have been clear to her that I was lost, because her pointing became more animated and her voice rose as she shouted, “Right there!”

“The giant pile of leaves?”

“Uh-huh.”

Then, in all of my obliviousness, I just sort of stared. Even when her hand grew tighter around mine and her feet started to move faster, I didn’t put two and two together until it was too late.

“What about— No! (Y/n)!” I shouted, cutting off my own train of thought and only barely letting go of her in time to watch her jump straight into the collection of fallen foliage that some poor landscaper had obviously worked hard to gather.

I have to believe that even if that unlucky, underappreciated individual saw what she’d done to their hours of work, that they would forgive her. It was hard to feel anything but joy at the sounds that came from the pile. Yet I approached her cautiously, with both hands in my pockets to avoid the urge to throw myself into danger with her.

“You’re a terror,” I said, settling for a crouched position in front of her. Still able to see her but far enough from her grasp that she had to crawl through a wall of leaves to come nose to nose with me. “This is literally the scariest thing you’ve done all season.”

“Come on in, the water’s fine,” she purred.

As enticing as the offer was, my mind was too preoccupied with statistics of spider and snake bites, not to mention the possibility of ticks still scouring the landscape for any last second hosts. The answer was easy.

“Absolutely not.”

With another exhale of pure displeasure, she threw her body back into the leaves, burying herself into a mess of yellows and reds that somehow only made her look even more beautiful. The chaotic scene matched her energy well, and the harm she was doing was minimal considering I was absolutely going to search every inch of skin for any marks later.

The only thing that was more appealing to me than watching her make an absolute fool out of herself in a pile of leaves was the intense urge to tease her about it. So, taking a regrettable seat on the grass, I sighed, “I think I’m going to have to arrest you for trespassing.”

There was a loud gasp from the center of the pile, followed by a scuffle of flailing limbs among the foliage.

“You don’t own this leaf pile! I do! I am queen of the leaf pile!” she screeched.

“Alright Princess,” I subtly corrected, “whatever you say.”

As promised, I didn’t put up a fight. Even when she finally got a hold of my hands and dragged me into the madness with her. I followed her no matter what nonsense she demanded, just as she had with me so many times. Granted, my desires weren’t nearly as dangerous or strange. They were pretty much just a collection of foreign films and reading that always lulled her to sleep.

But that day there was no sign of her energy waning. The early sun faded and we kept going. I’m not sure how, but she managed to enjoy herself in the D.C. landscape of bars and blaring car horns despite not being able to indulge in anything herself. Although she did half-heartedly attempt to trick me into buying her drinks in several different establishments, I think she was honestly proud that I avoided the drinks altogether. It was a nice reminder that sobriety could be something enjoyed between the two of us, regardless of the environment. However, we didn’t let that stop us from jumping into a crowd of very drunk women who had insisted we join their haunted tour of the city.

“Are you scared?” she whispered into my ear. The feeling of her warm breath against my skin caused a shiver to run down my spine, ruining any credibility I had in my response.

“No. Why would I be scared? It’s just history.”

“Are you sure?” she asked again.

“Yes!” I insisted with the worst possible timing. Because just as soon as the word had left my lips, I felt the distinct sensation of fingers running down my neck and arm opposite to her. I was so convinced that’s what it was that I even spun around with a yelp, crashing into at least three different people just to find a very startled woman with the worst hung scarf I’d ever seen.

(Y/n) had already put two and two together and was lost in an absolute fit of laughter. There were already tears forming in the corners of her eyes as she doubled over, barely able to stand through it all. Because there I was, her 31-year-old FBI agent boyfriend, screaming over a scarf.

“Laugh it up,” I droned. And she did. She kept laughing through any attempts at a response, and after the initial embarrassment wore off, I couldn’t help but join her.

“I hope you know you chose me. You chose this man!” I shouted, gesturing to the people around us who had already forgotten about our shenanigans, “And everyone knows it!”

“I’m sorry I can’t—” she wheezed, pausing to take a necessary breath that was all lost with another bunch of giggles “—You’re a fucking FBI Agent!”

“Well I can’t shoot a ghost, can I?” I mumbled through the hit to my ego. But any suffering was quickly dealt with as she threw dramatic arms around my waist, pulling me close and protecting me from any other errant scarves that might show up.

“I love you so much,” she said.

“I’m glad you’re having fun,” I returned with a quick kiss on her forehead. And even if I implied otherwise, I think she knew that I was having just as good of a time as she was. In fact, it was one of the most relaxing days of my life, which was saying something, considering how much walking was involved.

But no matter how tired we both were, I still had one last place to take her. It took her a while to figure out why the route felt so familiar, but I wasn’t ready to ruin the surprise. I wanted to watch the realization dawn on her. She didn’t disappoint.

“The Mayflower?” she asked with a bit of a bashful laugh before looking up at me through narrowed eyes, “Feeling nostalgic, Dr. Reid?”

“Yeah, a little bit. Thought it was more romantic than the club,” I offered, trying to shrug off the nervous butterflies that burst through my stomach. “Not by much, mind you.”

Although I got the feeling that she didn’t know, or perhaps just didn’t remember, that wonderful night from almost a year ago was one of the most important days of my life. I knew it then, too. From the second I set my eyes on her from my pitiful place against the bar, I knew that she would ruin me.

“Nothing screams high end romance like an alley and a little light law breaking,” she sighed. I almost missed it, too preoccupied with the way her arm tugged me tighter so she could rest her head against my shoulder.

“I can take you home if you’d rather.”

“Hmmm. Depends,” she hummed. Then, turning her head up to me with that playful look that always turned me to putty in her hands, she purred, “How much longer do you think you can wait before you just have to have me?”

I sucked in a sharp, sarcastic breath, eyeing her just long enough for her to start to fume, I let out all the air with a defeated sigh, “I guess we’re staying.”

That serene sort of teasing continued past the reception desk and all the way up the elevator. If there were other people there, we didn’t bother noticing. We were too busy watching one another to even look away long enough to find our room. Doubling back through the dizzying hallways until we found the elusive number, we finally settled into the only vaguely familiar layout of beige and tan.

She was much quicker at it than I was. Before I’d even finished washing my hands and checking exposed skin for bugs that I was convinced had hitched a ride from the leaf pile, she was already stretched out on the bed in nothing but a tiny piece of lacy cotton and her favorite sweatshirt. The sight made me stop, lost for breath and logic of how I was lucky enough to be there with her again.

“See something you like, Dr. Reid?” she teased through giggles, no doubt recalling the same memory as me.

My answer didn’t need to be said, but I said it, anyway. She deserved to hear it.

“Yes.”

With arms outstretched, she sleepily begged, “Come here.”

But I couldn’t.

“Not yet… I just… I want to look at you like this a little bit longer.”

How could I move on from this moment, when it was the best I’d ever felt? So overwhelmingly safe and at home despite being in a strange, sterile room. I had no desire to move any inch of me if it meant that this image would persist for the rest of my days.

“You getting all romantic on me?”

“Always,” I chuckled. Her usual disgust for my sappy behavior didn’t show itself, overpowered by the gentle curve of her lips and hands that were becoming more and more insistent to be held. Eventually, I had to move, knowing that it was the only way to hold her.

My body reacted the way it always did when it found her. All of the tension dropped from tired shoulders, desperate to touch her more. To feel the imprint of her body pressed against mine, a mess of heat and need and love.

She was the one to kiss me first, and for a moment I let her do it without reciprocation. I wanted to feel how her touch became softer and shier as she realized what I was doing. That I was spending all of my energy memorizing the way her lips parted as she tried to hold back a giggle against my almost-still lips.

“What’s happening in that big genius brain of yours?” she murmured with eyes half open but still containing universes.

“I’m just thinking of all the things you’ve done to make me fall in love with you.”

I thanked all of the gods in every pantheon that made her too tired to tease. Instead, she just laughed, playing her part in bringing us back to that night we met.

“Like quote Picard?”

“We still haven’t watched Star Trek together,” I whined.

The sound must have stirred something new in her, because she rolled us over to take her seat on my lap. She hung over me, looking down at me, hopeless and breathless at the feel of her thighs under my hands. My heart started to race, but I didn’t know why.

It wasn’t until she spoke the words that were already running through my mind, “We’ve got time. Picard can wait.”

Everything about it was effortless. Our bodies had fallen together and mouths found each other exactly like every romance novel has ever tried to tackle the metaphor of gravity.

But if we were an orbit, it was not a binary like the traditional notion of two equal souls. Despite the nickname I’d chosen for her, nothing about her soul was small. And even though she burned bright, she wasn’t anything like the fiery combustion of a star.

She was a home. A thing so full of vitality and life that I would love to watch for whatever time I had left. I was just a moon, loyally following her and trying my best to shield her from whatever might try to harm her. To protect her when she needed rest and to lead the tides to kiss her when she wished. I would be her shadow, shining a light onto her even in the darkest time. All that I asked for in return was a spot beside her.

‘One day,’ she had said before, ‘if you will have me.’

But it was never a question. Not for me. And if she really needed me to answer it for her, I was happy to give her that. I hadn’t been waiting for even a year, but it felt like a lifetime.

“Yeah, he can,” I repeated, quiet and with such a heavy waver that I’m surprised she could understand the shifting inflections. Even if she didn’t, she knew that something had changed in those few seconds of silence.

“What’s up, Spencer?”

I didn’t know how to answer. How to explain what I was feeling. But I grabbed hold of one hand, clinging desperately to her and guiding her to the heart that felt dangerously light. The rapid pace of its beating still not enough to alert her of the true cacophony of my thoughts.

“Are you okay?”

The answer was yes. Because no matter how loud and chaotic the sounds inside my head were, they all lead me to the same conclusion.

“Picard can wait, and we have a lot of time,” I tried to explain through a dry throat that was only growing tighter with the unwieldy weight of the feeling.

“Yes…” she mumbled back, just as trepidatious and nervous as I was.  

Just like I was. Because we were. We were connected by some force, whatever you want to call it. Whether it was a chemical or psychological or heavenly connection, I didn’t care. I wanted her to know how I felt. To know that there was nothing that would ever tear me away from her.

“But I don’t… I don’t think I want to wait.”

After a couple more seconds of silence, she answered with a knowing stare, “… What?”

From my position underneath her, I was able to reach over just enough to grab my jacket. Of course, it helped that she moved with me, clearly curious and terrified of the possibilities. But a good kind of terror… I hoped.

My confidence grew as her legs gripped tighter around my hips and her hands shot up to cover her chest with balled fists pressed against one another. I heard the friction of her skin as her body started to shake in a different way, with an adrenaline that I hadn’t seen from her in even the most dangerous situations.

But when I pulled a small velvet box from the internal pocket, everything stopped. She became completely still. Her eyes were wide and frozen on the object in my hands, only to look away when she heard my voice.

“(Y/n).”

“Where did you get that?” she asked like she hadn’t just seen me pull it from my jacket. The same jacket that I wore every time that I was with her. The wool fabric that she’d swaddled herself in on a number of occasions, none the wiser of how much heavier it was for me when I wore it.

“I know this is really random, a-and to be fair, I wasn’t expecting it, either,” I said through the most awkward laughs I’d ever produced (which was saying something), “I mean, I knew I wanted to marry you, I’ve known that for quite some time, hence the ring.”

I paused, but got nothing in response. Nothing except her lips quivering from their parted position, and her nose twitching as she tried to settle on just one expression. But it didn’t matter how she contorted her face; they were all exactly as they should be. Because they were all her.

“But today, with you… I-I’ve never been that happy in my life. Jumping in leaves and fighting over fall flavors and I—“

Her eyes stopped bouncing, settling with my gaze and robbing my lungs of all air. She made up her mind, deciding to leave everything exactly as it was. The honest truth of the overwhelming storm of every emotion that had been experienced in the little time we had shared together.

The knowing that everything had happened exactly as it should have to bring us here.

“I love you so much,” I whispered, careful to make every word as genuine as they were, “And I know that we have all the time in the world left with one another… but I don’t want to wait any longer for you to be my wife.”

“Ask me,” she answered immediately and abruptly.  


“Okay,” I laughed, endlessly entertained by how she could sound so aggressive even when we were both at our most vulnerable, caught in the nexus of our love.

“Um… Will you… marry me?”

There was no hesitation. No worry, no fear, and no doubt.

“Yes, you stupid old man!” she outright screamed, throwing arms around me even when it meant we both slammed against pillows and the headboard. She didn’t stop squealing even when she kissed me, struggling to find more of me to hold onto.

After she decided that tugging on my hair was the best way to express her affection, I managed to break away just long enough to shout, “Wait! I have to put the ring on you!”

“Then put it on!” she yelled, thrusting her hand in front of my face and practically slapping me in the process. But none of the pain mattered. Nothing was even recognizable outside of the feeling of her sweaty, shaking palm resting against my fingers.

I noticed for the first time that I was also trembling. I took the time to focus, slipping the ring over her finger. But once it started to safely slide into place, my eyes returned to watch what I knew to be happy tears fall over her cheeks. I wiped them away, but they were replaced with the wetness from my face when she brought us together again with a long, gentle kiss.

A calmness came over the room like the feeling following a storm. A clean slate with soil enriched for growth. A hope for a future forever changed.

“What do we do now?” she asked, biting her bottom lip and holding tight to my hands.

The answer seemed clear enough.

“Whatever we want.”

 —————————————————

 Is this really happening?

I stared at the diamond shining back at me with a clarity that had to be a metaphor for my heart. In the vague reflection of yellow light and us, I felt a warmth that doesn’t normally accompany metal. My finger’s new companion felt so comfortable in its new resting place. A constant reminder of the man I called home.

Then I turned back to him, unsure how I was supposed to move on from this moment. I never wanted to leave, but I also needed to move. I compromised and settled with my face against his chest, listening to the heartbeat he’d just dedicated to me. In that peaceful quiet, I heard him speak so softly I wasn’t sure I was meant to hear it.

But I did.

“You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” he said with fingers dancing through the ends of my hair, “I can’t wait to spend the rest of my life with you.”

And for once, the thought didn’t feel like a burden. In fact, it felt like freedom. I was finally free to be who I was without worry that I would be alone. Without worrying that I would be too much or too little to please him.

I was enough.

Enough.

“I love you,” I said, tasting salt from tears I hadn’t even noticed were falling.

Curiously, and in a rare role switch, Spencer was the one who took a blatantly affectionate display and turned it into something else. Pulling me away from his chest, he dragged me up until he could drag his lips over my jaw.

“Don’t cry, little girl,” he cooed with what I could only imagine was a wicked grin, “I haven’t given you a reason to yet.”

Something about that gruff rumble in his throat caused my skin to ripple with goosebumps. Every inch of me burned with flames that could only be put out by his touch. I chased after his lips with my own, but he was insistent on trailing down my throat. He knew I would be powerless to him. I wouldn’t be able to argue when my hands were knotted in his hair and my hips were already rocking helplessly against his erection.

“I want you to fuck me,” I seethed. My blood was boiling from the heat I felt within, and before he could even answer I was already working at the buttons on his shirt.

“Oh? You don’t want me to make love to you?” Spencer laughed. As if that had ever been our style.

“No, I want you to take what’s yours.”

He responded to the demand by pushing me from my seat, forcing me onto my back on the other end of the bed. I wasn’t going to complain, either. The new position allowed me access to his belt, which I unbuckled before he even had time to laugh.  

“Are you really challenging me right now, little girl?”

But despite the taunt, he did nothing to stop me. His hands were also busy removing my clothes. And just like before, our nakedness was reciprocated. With each lost layer, I should have felt lighter, but I didn’t. I felt so powerful, so aware of how our bare bodies twined together.

“Here, of all places? Do you remember what I did to you that night?”

How could I ever forget?

“I’m not the same girl you had in your bed then,” I purred. We both knew it was true, although not in the way I was implying.

Because Spencer had changed me. Irrevocably. He taught me so much — not just about physics, literature, or criminology, either. He taught me about kindness, softness, and vulnerability. He taught me how to trust that someone could hold me without the intention of letting me go. More than anything, he taught me that I didn’t have to learn these things alone. Even the smartest man I’d ever met needed help with them sometimes.

Then again, something told me that Spencer wasn’t in a very humble mood. Perhaps it was the fact he’d pinned me down again, with his hands clumsily gripping hard enough to leave crescent moons in my forearms.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” he growled with a small, chaste kiss, “You’re still just a fucking brat.”

I wasn’t feeling bratty then, though. Especially not as I felt the head of his cock pressed against me, just hard enough to feel the resistance of my body. He waited there, no doubt taking pleasure in the way my whole body squirmed underneath him. My hips bucked, but he managed to keep a cruelly steady distance.

“You’re so precious when you’re needy,” he mumbled. And although I stubbornly avoided looking him in the eyes out of protest, he forced my face towards him again, anyway. “Go on. Say please.”

“Fuck off,” I whined through a prominent pout that did me no favors.

“Say it.”

“Please!”

I managed to make eye contact, but it was fleeting. As soon as he thrust forward into me, my back arched and I lost myself in the pillows. My hands found him, though, leaving angry red welts over heated skin. If Spencer was at all affected by the pain, he made no showing of it. His pace continued, steadily forcing our bodies together until I trembled in his hands.

He would hold me there, at my limit but not pleading for him to do anything different. With tender hands, he would fuck me until I swore bruises would follow. But I never felt unsafe; I felt cared for and cherished in a way I’d never known. I trusted him to know my limits better than myself.

I trusted him with all of me because I had already seen that when given the chance, he would do whatever he could to protect me.

The love I felt must have shone through my eyes because his hips got slower, drawing out each movement. My hips rose in tandem with his, allowing me to feel every inch of him inside of me.

“This body belongs to me now and forever,” he whispered.

It always has.

“You belong to me.”

And I felt it. The undeniable string of fate that tied us to each other. I could feel his every emotion as his fingers brushed over my throat. I melted under his touch, completely consumed by the love he felt for me. The kind of love that people spent their whole lives searching for only to come up empty. That powerful thing that drove gods to war and men to madness.

The only feeling that could tear down every wall that had been carefully crafted to protect myself. Because I didn’t need them anymore. Spencer’s arms would take their place, holding me through the storms that might follow the same way he had carried me through the ones that led us here.

“Yes,” I breathed, “I’m yours.”

For forever and whatever comes after.

The words were truer than they’d ever been before, and Spencer took it as permission to let go of any remaining hesitation. The slow, gentle thrusts became faster and our moans echoed in the small room without a second thought to the poor patrons in the rooms surrounding us. Because if they felt what we did, they would understand. Spencer still tried to hush the sounds, crashing his lips over mine in a sloppy, frenzied kiss.

I was suddenly reminded of every romantic story I’d ever heard. They all spoke of feeling so close to someone that they felt like an extension of yourself. I wasn’t sure if it was completely true, but there was no denying how at home our bodies were. The way our tongues wrapped around one another and how our noses bumped so gently in the chaos was unmatched by any meeting driven by lust or need.

His hips met mine over and over again, no matter how hard I tried to keep him closer. Even when my hips chased his to be held longer, Spencer was persistent in the ruthless pace. Because like me, he was lost in the euphoria. I knew it from the sound of his whimpers and the way he bit my lip just a little bit harder.

“Tell me what you want, little girl,” he begged. Not ordered. Begged.

“You,” I answered without any doubt, “I just want you.”

His response came even faster, even more desperate and scratchy as it came through his lips into mine.

“You have me. For the rest of my life and whatever comes after, I will take care of you.”

There was nothing left to say. I could feel the truth and force behind the words as he fucked me harder, eliciting one more quiet cry from me in the sound of his name.

“Spencer...”

When he returned the call, though, it wasn’t with any name I’d heard from him before.

“So you better get used to this feeling,” he said through a smile that I felt on my lips before he drew back. He looked me in the eye as he buried himself in me, tensing to hold himself back just a few seconds longer. To see the look on my face and let that be the feeling of us giving in to each other for the first time in our new story.

“Because I’m never going to grow tired of this, Mrs. Reid.”

Mrs. Reid.

That was going to be my name.

Mrs. Reid.

That was the only thought running through my mind as I felt the coil in my gut snap and all of my muscles tense around him. There were no whorish sounds left in my lungs, only little whimpers and whines as I tried to claw him closer. Spencer gave up his visual in exchange for kissing me while he finished. My walls held him so tightly that I felt each pulse and every place where his release filled me. But nothing was more compelling than feeling the way his lip quivered between mine as his body fell onto mine with no grace required.

Spencer could act hard all he wanted, but I felt the way he craved softness. Safety. Love. All things I was happy to give… for a price.

“Say it again.”

“Say what again?” he replied sleepily but animated enough to have a healthy dose of snark. Snark that earned him a rough nudge of my elbow into his ribs.

“You know!”

But naturally, the genius had to play dumb. With a happy little hum, he snuggled closer to me, burying his face into my neck so he could mumble against the skin, “You’ll have to be more specific.”

“Please,” I sighed, “for me?”

He seemed to contemplate the plea for a little while longer, with wiggling toes I felt against my shins and a happy sigh that breezed over my neck. I tried to take in those small things while I waited, knowing that while I had a lifetime to learn them, this moment would never come again.

“Fine,” he finally settled, propping himself up to give another soft kiss followed by the most beautiful sound in the world.

“Only for you, Mrs. Reid.”

 ——  The Next Morning ——

 Waking up next to Spencer with a ring on my finger was literally waking up to find my dream come to life. And sure, his light snoring and constant wriggling under the sheets he continued to pull off of me weren’t perfect or picturesque, but they were real. The same way that he chirped when he felt my legs wrap around him in his sleep and only woke when he heard me giggling.

His eyes fluttered open, taken aback by something that he saw. Although I would blame it on the sunlight filtering through the curtains, I was sure that he would give me all the credit.

“Good morning,” he slurred.  

“Hi,” I answered with a smile and an attempt to pull him closer. But my hand was stopped by his, squeezing my palm between his fingers before dragging my knuckles to his lips. From there, he laid a gentle kiss over the diamond he’d placed there the night before. Although it was strange to be outshone by a rock, I let it go for now.

“I know you shouldn’t sleep with it on, but it’s so nice to see it’s still there,” he said with a heavy breath before lowering our still joined hands to rest against his heart. I could feel the way it beat a little bit quicker as I came closer, and I wondered if this was really what it would be like forever.

“I couldn’t resist wearing it.”

“You know you can still change your mind, right? We haven’t told anyone.”

“I haven’t changed my mind,” I replied unlike every time before. There was no teasing, no joke or anger or sadness. Just a pure, unadulterated joy.

… Of course, the question did bring up an entirely new anxiety. It did feel a bit silly, but it needs to be expressed.

“Have you?”

“God, no,” he laughed. Like he’d only asked the question to see the way I might panic. But as soon as I heard his assurance, I knew it was the truth.

My mind started to drift back to that first morning we spent together. It felt like a lifetime ago, but everything still felt so very much the same. I wondered if there were things I would change if given the chance. It wasn’t until after I ran through the laundry list of things that we would have been better off without that I realized I’d asked the wrong question.

It wasn’t a matter of what I would have changed, but what I would have kept the same. And the answer was simple. No matter what I would face in my life, I just wanted it to be with him. Everything would be okay as long as I had him.

However, when I tried to kiss him, Spencer still seemed hung up on the things he would have changed. Our lips didn’t connect for even ten seconds before he broke apart, happily laughing through the words, “This is so much better when I’m not hungover.”

“Old man.”

He didn’t argue back, wiggling under the sheets until our chests were pressed together. I took it as a very poor attempt at a power play, because instead of craning my neck to look up at him from my spot, I simply climbed his lanky figure until our noses were pressed together.

“Your old man now,” he corrected, followed by my own clarification of, “You were always mine, Dr. Reid.”

“But now you get to show everyone.” He grinned, letting go of my hand to roam over the curves of my body. His daily attempts to memorize each version of me he held. After a few more moments of silent reverence, I asked the question we’d have to face eventually, lest we face even more awkward, embarrassing moments with the team.

“Who’s gonna tell everyone?”

He barely even considered the options before he shrugged.

“Let’s just… wing it.”

I paused, certain that I’d heard it wrong. “You, Spencer Reid, would like to ‘wing it?’” I repeated, barely able to get the words out without laughing from the absurdity of it all.

But he was quick to assure me, “Yeah, I do.”

“Alright. Whatever you say,” I sighed. I figured that it wouldn’t be worth it to plan right now, anyway. It wasn’t exactly our style. If anything, we would find the perfect time completely by accident.

“You know what we should do first though?” I excitedly announced to the best audience a girl could ever ask for.

“What?”

“Coffee,” I drawled. To which he quickly answered, “I love you an ungodly amount.”

Taking full advantage of that admission, I shoved the poor soul who’d shackled himself to me forever away as I ordered, “Go turn it on. I am craving shitty hotel coffee in bed with my fiancé.”

“Fine,” he resigned with a smile while rolling out of the bed, “Spoiled brat.”

“Your spoiled brat!” I shouted back from safe under the covers that I could finally get back in his absence. They weren’t as good as him, but they would be enough for now. I buried my face into his pillow, snickering as I heard a very tired Spencer call from the bathroom, “Forever mine!”

Just as the sounds of running water filled the room, I lifted my head at the distant sound of familiar chiming beside me.

“Is that my phone?”

I didn’t answer, paralyzed in my place as I felt the most intense sensation of deja vu I’d ever experienced. Right there on the nightstand, I saw the name Hotchner.

Spencer was quicker this time to leave the bathroom, but just as he turned the corner, a thought must have stopped him. Because he paused, staring at me with hotel sheets gathered around me and his phone against my ear.  

He didn’t try to fight me for the device. In fact, he didn’t move at all, watching from a few feet away with a smile I’d never seen before. The kind that I felt so deep inside of me that I realized this was what they meant to share a soul with someone.

 “Hello,” I spoke softly and filled with love, “this is Mrs. Reid.”

 The End.

—————————————————

Epilogue

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[thepriceofbeingaroseisloneliness]

Toshiya’s Creativity Vol 7: Looking back at Life This time, as Toshiya’s birthday is getting closer, we asked him to look back on his life. From his childhood to boyhood in Nagano and moving to Tokyo after his awakening to music. And the present. Memories, present and future…. Blessed with good weather, we did this interview in a localisation where you could feel the arrival of spring.  “For me, music is the most stimulating thing. It was a way to escape from reality” “I think it’s a miracle I met these 4 people.” “When you are standing on stage in front of the audience, you should be a special person that nobody can’t replace”

Notes before reading: This is from ‘Toshiya’s creativity’, the serialization done by Ster Edge Magazine and later compiled into a book with the same name. This is Vol 07 (Ster Edge 006) , which was published in March 2018.  Originally, I planned to post this for Toshiya’s birthday but....life.  Feel free to correct me if you spot any mistake or any confusing parts. Links or credits to this post when the content is reposted or captured in other SNS is appreciated :)

------ 2017 marked the 20th anniversary of the formation of DIR EN GREY. Toshiya also had the opportunity to look back on the history of the band at various locations. This time, we asked him to look back on his ‘life’ just before his birthday on March 31st. How did he feel at that time? What did he realize at that moment and what does he think now? It was an interview that gave us a glimpse of his enigmatic way of thinking and a part his feelings. Toshiya is from Nagano prefecture. He says the environment in which he grew up was "a normal countryside one” in “a normal family”. In our previous talk with Hide TANAKA, a flower designer who is a childhood friend of Toshiya, which was published in "Toshiya's Creativity Vol6", he talked about his childhood, but  we will explore this further,  in a bit more personal way. When he was asked about his oldest memory, he folded his arms, thought for a moment, and then opened his mouth. “This memory comes quickly to my mind. There was something like an agricultural cooperative bazaar/rummage sale being held near my grandparent's house, and I think they took me to it. I was very impressed by a child of the same age as me at that time who was lost and crying alone. So, I remember holding my grandpa and grandma's hands tightly and saying, ‘Don’t lose me!’ (laughs).” His grandparents' home and his home were close, so he often went out with his grandparents from an early age. “I was close to my grandfather and my grandmother. I remember I was the type of child loved by the elderly. I’m still quite in contact with my family and relatives, we have a good relationship. But it wasn't something special, it was normal for me at the time. My hometown is a normal countryside town, where  nothing is  like this city, it feels like there are only mountains and rice fields. I also liked drawing at home and playing outside. I was playing like a normal country child would do.” Young Toshiya seems to have grown up in the nature of Nagano. It seems his parents also respected the things he wanted to do. “I was in a sports boys' team, a baseball team, and I practised kendo. I feel like I certainly did what I wanted. I liked physical activities. I wasn’t strong or weak at sports, after all I was normal (laughs). My parents taught me soroban (Japanese abacus), and in junior high school I attended a cram school. I think I got a textbook to study English through radio lessons. I just pretended to play the abacus, and I wasn't good at it at all (laughs). " Toshiya was a boy who was devoted to sports. He talked to Hide about playing the guitar when he was young, but was he interested in music and instruments at that time? “No, no at all. My mother's brother used to play the guitar and I was just using that guitar as a toy instead. More than playing, I was killing time. It felt like that. At that time, I had no dreams for the future. When I was told to write about my dream for the future, I just wrote ‘be a salary man, like my father’. I think that was the safest choice (laughs). The children of my class said ‘I want to be a police officer’ or ‘I want to be a pilot’, but I wasn't interested in what I wanted to do in the future at all.” He said ‘normal’ many times while talking about himself in the past but while listening to his talk, he didn't feel like that for some reason, he had a mysterious aura since he was a boy. He said the thing that young Toshiya was more interested in was ‘wild ideas/fantasies’. “I think it was like that in the past. Didn’t you have any ‘wild idea’ /fantasy on your way to school or coming back from it? I liked that kind of thing. As I liked Gundam, I thought ‘I want to ride one’. Sometimes I went home with my friends, but more often I went home alone. It was about a 30-minute walk from my house to school, so it was days of spending all that time doing that (laughs).” Perhaps he was a boy who had his own world and the strength to be alone. “No, no, I didn't think deeply about that. I never felt scared to be alone…. the reason I went home alone was it was easier for me to go home alone (laughs). I'm older than my siblings, so I grow up as an only child for a while. That’s why it was normal for me to be alone. Most of the boys and girls I played with were older kids who lived near my house” Toshiya, an elementary school boy who often played with older boys and girls who lived in the neighbourhood, gradually got more chances to listen to popular songs at his senpais' homes. Boøwy was the catalyst for him to have an instrument. “Boøwy was a cool band that older seniors listened to. When I got into middle school, there were about one or two people in the class who liked Western music. When I became friends with those guys, I was told ‘You are still listening to Japanese music?’ (laughs). From that moment, I started to dig deeper into Western music.” Then, that Toshiya in middle school becomes more and more absorbed in music. It was around this time that he started to have in his mind that he wanted to play an instrument. “Besides Boøwy and X…..From overseas… I listened to Van Halen. Then, bands like Europe, Guns N'Roses,Bon jovi….. as it was the golden age of LA metal (glam metal), I liked that kind of stuff. I listened to the X’s single ‘Kurenai’ at home. That song starts with a ballad-like part, and then it gets fierce at once, but when I was playing it at first, I could hardly hear any sound. I still remember that suddenly it made a loud noise when I turned up the volume, I was surprised and desperately turned down the volume (laughs). " As Toshiya told us this funny incident, for sure there are many people who had a similar experience. What elements of these bands inspired Toshiya in middle school? "The music was exciting, but the fashion and performance were shocking ... Every band was very unrealistic. It seems that I was taken to a different world at that time. The feelings were very strong.  Since TV was the only way to collect information, I think the influence from TV on me was huge.” He has been absorbed in band activities since high school. The first thing he got in his hands was a guitar, not a bass. He doesn't have get the chance to play the guitar on stage right now, but he uses the guitar to make songs. "After all, I started playing the guitar because I admired some guitarists, but I thought 'It's difficult to play with 6 strings. It's a little easier with 4 strings.' After all, I thought it would be easier if there aren’t many chords to hold down. Also, I thought the bass was in a position that didn’t stand out much compared to other instruments, so I thought it would be interesting because that means there were many interesting possibilities about playing” Toshiya, who liked drawing since childhood, went to an art school while being in a band, after graduating from high school. Although he is good at drawing, he eventually chose the musical path. “I didn't want to get a job after graduating from high school, but I didn’t want to study something either. However, I liked drawing, so I asked my parents to attend an art school. At school, the places where the people who graduated there got a job are displayed at the corridor, isn’t it? I was looking at that and I thought ‘Ah? I don't think many people can get a job in the world of drawing’. I don’t think there are many jobs available when it comes to drawing. I thought ‘I like drawing but as this is more a hobby than a job, there is no point in spending money to study it. I’m going to spend my time doing what I like’. After all, I left the art school in about a year. After all, you only live once, and I may regret not doing what I want to do…..That's why I decided to go on the path of music for real. Music is the most stimulating thing for me. Making music was fun and I think it was a bit an escape from reality. I could be a different person than the one I was in my daily life….I wonder if these ‘extraordinary things’ became an stimulus for me.” Immediately after that, Toshiya goes to Tokyo to be fully into band activities as a band man. An era in which the Internet is hardly widespread it was important to move to make his own path. He took action and met various people. “When I went to Tokyo, I met and talked with several people. I was told often that ‘those who move out their hometowns had already won’. I thought there was no chance  if I stayed in the countryside and I started doing band activities quietly. There may be various risks and scary feelings, but if you really want a chance, you have to go to the place where there is information. Of course, I think that taking no action is also one of the options. There may be a way to improve your skills locally, or you can go out to the city to seize opportunities, and I think it's up to you to decide which one to choose. I met the members (of DIR EN GREY) in Tokyo, so I think I wouldn't have been in this band if I hadn't come to Tokyo. " "I think it was a miracle that I could meet the other 4 members” Toshiya, who met Kyo,Kaoru, Die, and Shinya, moved to Kansai and started band activities there . In 1997, DIR EN GREY was formed. They made their national debut in 1998, and made his major debut in 1999 with the release of the singles "Akuro no Oka", "ZAN-" and "Yurameki".  He thought ‘Because I only have one life, I may regret not doing what I want to do’, and took action. About three years later, Toshiya's life changed. "I think most people in the music world are like that…..At that time, I didn't know what I was doing, but I was confident. I think it's a little scary when I think about my confident at that time. I had such a simple idea that in a way or another, we were going to make it. That's why I didn't think anything strange, the biggest thing was that I didn't have any strange fear. As I grew up, I started to think about things I hadn't thought of before. I was getting more and more involved with people, but I didn’t have that kind of thing when I was young. I think that was the biggest driving force. When I look back on it now, I feel envious of that feeling that nothing was going to stop me.” It was a brilliant  and sensational success. It was probably the tremendous power of these five people that attracted that success, which the appropriate world to describe it would be “comet”. A comet that seen from a distance was very beautiful but, how did DIR EN GREY feel about it, being the comet themselves? “We didn’t fully understand the situation we were in. There was a strong feeling we were getting into a world we didn’t know. We were an active part of that, but it felt like we were outsiders. At that time, music had a stimulating sense of unreality but also the fear that it became real started to spring up. At that time, it felt like that many times. DIR EN GREY was called the “last boom” of the scene we were in and I think we were lucky. There was also a part of us that tried to not be absorbed by that boom” DIR EN GREY’s activities have been very creative since then. From this formation until their debut, the band didn’t lose their spirits and kept their aggressive stance. Continuing to present things with a strong emphasis in musicality and fashion making a distinction in the middle of that ‘boom’, they built a unshakeable fortress called DIR EN GREY. “At that time, various media such as TV and magazines talked to us, but we tried not to go in that direction. I was influenced by TV in terms of knowing music, but when it comes to my own work, I didn’t think about becoming the kind of musician that appears on TV. Of course, I thought it would be the best if we got TV exposure but…..at some point, there were things that cold me off. ‘This boom won’t last forever’, it’s easy to get on that boom, but once the boom is over, it’s gone. At that time, I might not have thought so much about it, but I instinctively felt that it was dangerous to get into that boom” It’s not just Toshiya, all DIR EN GREY members agreed. “Sometimes thanks to the boom and the media, they (the listeners) get to know about you. I think it’s the best way to get people know about you but, I also think it’s really dangerous. I think there were some people who succumbed to that kind of excitement. We were cautious because we were the only ones who could protect ourselves, no one else would protect us.” Because DIR EN GREY decided that it was dangerous to get drawn by that boom, they were able to pursue the music and expressions they wanted to do in a deeper way. A different strength from that boom. “That’s right…. We didn’t really understand what happened, we couldn’t say ‘ we did this so this happened after’, there were moments we relied on ourselves, but there were also moments that we relied on others. I guess that balance was good. However, we tried to not get into that wave of popularity as much as possible” DIR EN GREY continued to run ahead of the boom without appearing in the mainstream media, toured Asia in 2002, achieving the first overseas expansion. Due to changes in music aspects, the attention they got from overseas increased and in 2005, they performed in Berlin, marking their first solo concert in Europe. From there, they started to held live performances around the world. Their music spread to the world in proportion to the rise of the Internet. Their journey was so innovative in the music scene that many artists used them as their role model. Should it be called ‘a miracle’ caused by  a natural sense of balance? “I think this (the overseas expansion) was something rare for us. ‘Something like this is what we want’, ‘It would be good if you could show this or that’……we were told these kind of things so maybe it (a miracle) happened. First of all, I think it’s a miracle I met these 4 people.” Toshiya said this a little shy smile.  There aren't many bands that have been so active for 20 years without changing members or stopping their activities. It's a miracle. “Because it’s an aspect that you can’t control…the things you do and the people you meet. I think it’s a miracle in that sense as well.” After 20 years, there were changes as an individual person, and there were changes in the way they interact with music. He says it's not just about music, ‘No matter what you do, if you make a mistake, you're done’, he adds. “Everyone calls me an 'artist', but I don't feel like one. The easiest thing to say would be ‘free person’ (laughs).  As I don’t have the experience of a normal working life, waking up at the same time on weekdays mornings, getting on the same train every day, rather than an artist, I would say I’m a free person. However, if there is a misunderstanding, I come to think of myself as ‘someone special’ who can’t live a normal life. It’s dangerous and scary. But humans are creatures that make mistakes (laughs).” Is it his way of saying that there was a “misunderstanding” in the past? “Well, there is. I made mistakes. That's why I'm scared. At the time of the debut, the number of adults  I didn’t know increased around me. No matter what you do, many people was moving. That became something common. But that many people come, means that many people also leave…. Shortly after my debut, a friend from Nagano told me two things. One was ‘it’s good you can do what you like’, and the other was ‘Did you start a band to be admired/ to be pampered?’ Those words were quite a big deal for me. I thought I couldn't stay that way, so I had to change my way of thinking a little more. The words this person told me made me feel sad but then I said ‘Isn’t it good? Why you don’t try to do your best too?’ (laughs).” Toshiya laughs and says ‘I want to be a person with an ordinary consciousness’. His way of talking and manners are soft, giving an impression that he is a person who has nothing to do with the word ‘rude’. “In my teens,  my senpais were unconventional and  I admired a lot their messy behaviour but unfortunately,  times are very different now. When we were children, we thought about what to buy and how to use the money we received for New Year's  but nowadays  children seem to save money. It might be good to do something unconventional and have a dream in such a conservative era, but I'm not that age anymore. Now, if I do something like that, I’d be in a difficult position (laughs). That’s why being a person with an ordinary consciousness would be the ideal”. “When you stand on stage in front of  the audience, you should be a special person that nobody can’t replace” When you ask him about music activity, the talk extends to other topics that are not limited to music. The concept of the brand 'DIRT 100% Natural Dirty' produced by him is 'unisex real clothes that can be worn in a wide range of occasions from casual to formal’, the design  not only affects the clothes but also the spaces that surround your daily life. Toshiya proposes and produce unique and original clothes for daily life.  The fact that the words ‘life’ and ‘everyday’ are included means that for Toshiya, as music, his brand production and life are something that flows together, not something that can be separate from each other. “There isn’t really a distinction. But both, music and brand production, I can’t call them ‘work’. Of course I can’t remove the business part of it but I don’t think it’s work. This interview is also part of my job, that’s why I’m definitely switched on my ‘business mode’. If you like something in a pure way, you shouldn’t make a business of it. Of course, I make music and produce clothes because I like it, but the truth is that you can’t just do something because you like it. That’s why I think I have to do it. For example,  of course I would say ‘I want to do this’ to the company but  saying NO to everything that the company suggests, like ‘I want you to do this, I think it’s just selfish. If I’m allowed to do what I want to do, then I have to do also what the company wants me to do, otherwise, it won’t work. If you just want to do whatever you want,  it would be like ‘why don't you do it by yourself? I think I'm doing it with several people because I can't do it alone.” It might be because of this that the band DIR EN GREY continue to be active with the same members. It’s  only because they have their own opinions but also they have the capacity to listen and absorb other people’s opinions. “I have a firm ideal within myself. However, there are times  you will realize things listening to other people’s opinions and absorbing them. When you have a talk with several people that are experts in something, new opinions that I didn’t know before are born. I often think that it’s like the scales fall from my eyes, and it leads to new discoveries. There might be a reason why we don’t aim to “do things by ourselves’. It's not that music and brands can't be done alone…. I feel that if I go alone, I might make a mistake. Going back to I said before, if you think of yourself as 'special', I think it's not going to go in the right direction….But it's an exception when you stand on stage in front of the audience. , you should be a special person that nobody can’t replace” No matter how good a person is, they may stop at some point. Toshiya was no exception. However, he says with confident ‘I still have many things that I want to do’. “I've often thought ‘this is my limit’. I have thought many times ‘I don't have any ideas, I don't like it, it's hard’..... But then, I’ve always come up with ideas and images such as "I want to do something like that" or "Let's do something like this". I've been doing something like that all the time….I think my desire for expression will never run out. I don't think things can be made from scratch. Everything is imitation of something,  an arrangement of something….I think that’s the trigger for the ramification of creation.  In your daily life, you can see various things and various things will happen, so I hope to reflect in my work what is happening at that moment.” Will Toshiya reach a turning point in his life soon? In the last talk, he wondered if he would become an adult when he is 50 or 60 years old. He also said he wanted to be 50 or 60 years old soon. He set his mind on the idea of ‘You only have one life, if you don’t do the things that you want, you’ll regret it’. Until now, he has devoted his life to the band so is he satisfied with that or is there any regrets? “It’s half satisfaction, half regrets (laughs).  I think I have more regrets, though. When I was in elementary school I thought that at my age I would be living in my hometown, I’d be married and would have kids…’I wish I had done that at that time’….’I didn’t do that’….things like that, if I start mentioning them, there would be no end. But you can’t do anything about the things you didn’t do, I think the perception will change if you look at it with regrets or as a reflection. Sayingt that ‘I could become an adult once I’m 50 or 60 years old” means I entrusted to my future self, things I can’t do now. It’s a way of escapism, though(laughs). I feel like the things I can’t do now will be easier in the future and the range of the things I’ll be able to do will be wider. I will pursue forever the person I aspired to become when I was a child. I think it’s a human thing to do that.” Toshiya’s voice “I requested this photoshoot to take place somewhere near the sea. Since my birthday was closer, I did an interview looking back on my life. If anything, it felt like the interview was important. As we went to Odaiba, the travel time was longer. The talk about the Olimpics in the car was exciting.

#dir en grey #toshiya #translation #toshiyatranslations

[creativeashproductions]

A Distant Dream III // Luke Patterson

Summary: In 1994 seventeen year old Luke Patterson had once again to ask out the girl that held his heart. With the belief he would see the younger Mercer girl the next morning he decides to then confess his feelings. Only the soft music bewitched the reader into an antique wardrobe with lots of history.

Warnings: Swearing, grief, magic wardrobe, talk of death, angst, and fluff

Words: 3.2k

A/N: I’m loving this series omg.

TO BE TAGGED SEND AN INBOX/ASK PLEASE!

Masterlist

“It should be somewhere in here,” Julie spoke with the flashlight scanning the basement the Molina’s didn’t use. She was hunting for the spare cord her mother had always carried with the amp for the few times she played with her old band for fun.

Most of the stuff had found its way in the basement, collecting dust and leaving sadness in its wake. Reggie’s had snapped early this morning to his great disappointment and with no spare in sight.

As Julie’s hand brushed her old childhood dollhouse, a soft golden light gleamed from further back. Her brown eyes finding the corner when the golden glow was framing a square in the distance. Rocking back on the heels of her feet, Julie stared at the sight.

Faint music came from the surrounding area of the golden glow. The Puerto Rican is enthralled by the bewitching music coming from the back of the basement. Her sneakered feet walking closer to the wardrobe as the creak of a door came from it.

Julie halted as the sheet slipped off, revealing the old wood to her brown eyes and the golden glow brightening the room further. The telltale sound of noise behind her concealed by the music that grew louder and louder. The door unlatched itself with a form slamming the basement floor with a slam.

Julie stumbled back. A deep groan pulled from the stranger’s lips before Julie’s scream ripped through the once empty room. The cry of a male behind her joining the screams as Julie turned on her heel halting at the pure unadulterated fear on Alex’s face.

“What the hell?” Alex hissed, staring at the prone form of a girl with long hair intricately pinned in places. The formal hairstyle at war with the outfit Alex could just barely make out as a plaid skirt reaching mid-thigh over sheer black tights. The colour of the skirt concealed by the dim lighting.

“Peter.” The name slipped from your lips filled with anguish as you frantically crawled to the wardrobe to search it.

The scream of grief falling from your lips as your hand made contact with the wooden back of the wardrobe. Your arms wrapped around your middle as you collapsed into yourself as it cemented in your brain. Your life in Narnia ended in seconds.

“Excuse me? How the heck did you do that?” Julie’s terrified voice questioned as she fought her impulse to run. Just as she had from the boys when they first appeared in the studio.

The truth of the matter settling you swiftly turned to the voice surprised you had left yourself vulnerable to attack. Your wild eyes scanning the room for a sword, or even your bow that was always strapped to you. You found only a basement with old furniture instead and two teens staring shocked at you.

“Where-“

“Y/N?” The blonde boy gasped stumbling forward taken aback by the sudden appearance of his little sister. Your eyes meeting his blue confused before memories of him snapped in your brain previously hidden behind a wall.

“Alex?” You questioned, throwing yourself into his arms to wrap your arms around him as you dissolved into sobs. Alex melting into your body sobbing just as hard.

“I’m two seconds away from storming Dr. Turner’s office, I swear. First, three ghosts appear in my studio and now a girl out of a wardrobe also from the ’90s.” Julie muttered scrubbing her hand over her face. Your eyes wandering to her form in confusion at what she had said.

“’ also from the ’90s’?” You asked, stepping one step away from Alex who refused to let you go as if you would disappear once more, “What year is it?”

“How about we talk about this in the studio. Reggie and Luke are in the studio, I came to get Julie. You’ve been down here for a while.” Alex suggested with a look that Julie caught quickly. Alex didn’t want to prolong the reunion with the rest of the guys.

Alex walked up from the basement with Julie straight to the door with dozens of questions in his brain. This was a change he welcomed with open arms and a happy heart. The house was empty as Ray had taken Carlos to an all-day out of town baseball tournament.

Luke and Reggie’s voices drifted out from the studio blocked by the white barn doors only partially open. The two arguing about the band playing one of Reggie’s country songs on stage. Their attention not on the three people walking into the room as Luke stretched out on his back on his sofa. Reggie curled in one of the armchairs beside the couch.

“It’s not our sound!” Luke spoke, staring his bassist down with a heated glare that wasn’t as harsh as if it was someone else.

“Pop wasn’t either but look where we are now?” Reggie retorted with his arms crossed and a pout painted on his flushed face. Alex could sigh at the same debate that happened at least twice a week.

“Sunset Curve is pop now?” Your soft voice still tortured with loss bringing both the boys to the front of the studio. Standing uncomfortable in the clothing that revealed more skin in the fifteen years you had been in Narnia.

The gasps would have amused Alex had this sudden development not happened, especially when his long lost sister fell out of a wardrobe. Luke and Reggie stumbled to their feet in pure astonishment seeing the person they had dreamed of seeing one more time.

“Holy shit.” Luke choked blinking frantically as you sent an awkward smile to the face of the person that had haunted you for fifteen years.

“Y/N?” Reggie cried, raising both hands to cover his mouth as if it would hold in the heartbreaking sobs.

Julie took the initiative to step to the side to allow the reunion to happen without a distraction, but really it was impossible. A bomb could drop, and none of the ’90s teens would notice with their attention solely on each other.

“Are you a ghost?” Reggie questioned you with furrowed brows. Alex’s hand intertwined with yours.

At the familiar texture and comfort of your older brother’s comforting hand, your eyes clenched tight—tears building at the very different hands you had held for over a decade.

“Ghost?” You questioned, clearing your tight throat in bewilderment. Your e/c eyes changing between the three different eyes. The three boys shared a glance with each other, “Does anyone have a sweater I could borrow?”

Alex was surprised at the request, “You want a sweater? You adore midriff shirts.”

“That was before.” You simply stated, “So what has happened?”

That was the words that shattered the frozen form of Luke Patterson, who stumbled his way to hug you. His arms wrapping around, brought both relief but also guilt. This was the guy that had been the third party of your marriage without even knowing. The thoughts caused your muscles to tense, leading Luke to a different conclusion.

Luke believed you rejected his hug because you blamed him.

“You’re not a ghost?” Reggie questioned following as you sat on the sofa in such an uncharacteristic position.

Your posture entirely pin straight with an air of regality that went above the posture you had as a young Mercer. Alex’s eyebrows raised almost into his hairline at how you held yourself compared to the slight slouch you developed away from your parents. His blue eyes caught the calm mask that concealed your panic under a practised mask.

“You disappeared in 1994 after you spent supper with my family.” Luke softly started recalling the night his life first changed for the worse, “You left just before dark after time got away from us. You sent a smile before the plants hid your form and I never saw you again.”

A sad smile broke the mask you wore, “I’m sorry the fifteen years have made it difficult for memories.”

“Fifteen years?” Julie interrupted, bringing your attention to the girl in the corner with a soft voice. Her eyes couldn’t help scan you and Alex finding the similarities and differences, but she loved how relaxed Alex looked in your presence.

“Time is…different where I was.” The sentence was slow to leave your lips as your eye wandered the different version of the studio.

“Was it a black room?” Reggie inquired shifting for Julie to have space to sit down without her limbs moving through Reggie’s leg. Alex was quick to settle on your left side with Luke in the closest armchair to you.

“No?” You trailed off thinking of the years you had spent ruling a kingdom with your in-laws, “I-I think when I left Luke’s house, there was this music. Like a lullaby that drew me into this antique store and a voice out of a dream. I was entranced, and then I was in a different world.”

“You have an accent.” Luke implored finally seeing the mature difference in your demeanour, posture and personality, “Like it’s English but still sounds like you. Were you in England?”

The soft giggle came from your lips, “No. I swear on Aslan I wasn’t in England.”

Everyone was deaf to Julie’s confusion and her soft repeat of the name you whispered into the air. The word drawing a sense of having had heard it before it comes her way.

“Who’s Aslan?” Alex asked unclipping his infamous fanny pack to remove the pink sweater. He couldn’t help but see the way you tugged the plaid skirt down and your black crop top down.

Your hand grasped the soft material of the pink sweater, the first pink garment Alex had owned. His pride and joy of a sweater was slipped over your outfit landed past the hem of your skirt.

“He’s…” Your words broke off, trying to find a way how to tell them that Aslan ruled the entirety of Narnia. He created it, but he was a lion that could talk.

“I’d like to know how you’ve been in that wardrobe for so long!” Julie gushed unable to hold back her curiosity, “My parents got that as a wedding gift when they were moving into the house. It was shifted downstairs because my mom couldn’t let it go for the sentimental value.”

“I’m sorry but wardrobe? She came- you came out of a wardrobe?” Alex wondered, shaking his head before he said his infamous word, “Okay.”

“I was trying to find a spare cord for Reggie, but out of absolutely nowhere, this music came from the back area. This pretty golden hue lit up the room, and then she just fell out of the wardrobe.”

“I’m so confused,” Reggie whispered to himself, staring off into the distance at two things he had learnt.

You had gone missing before they died yet for you, only fifteen years had gone by.

You had been in a wardrobe. A wardrobe!

“So are you dead or not?” Julie asked next leaning forward to face you in anticipation for the new piece of information. Her inquisitive brown eyes glittering in the light of the studio as you tried to find the correct words.

“I’m alive.” You decided to go the simple route, “I’m guessing that you three are dead?”

Alex, Reggie and Luke all nodded with each other, “Street dogs. How aren’t you fazed?”

“Uh, I walked into a wardrobe. Joined a war, won the war, got crowned for the kingdom by Aslan, and grew up.” You tapped a finger for each piece of your fifteen years, much easier to just use your perspective, “Fifteen years ruling with Peter and his siblings.”

“Peter?” Alex inquired with one dark blonde eyebrow raised high with caution written clearly on his youthful face.

“My husband.” The words choked everyone in the damn room, and Luke felt like he could puke. The girl he was still very much in love with was now taken by someone else just weeks after he grieved the almost-relationship he could have had with you.

Adjusting to the new world, the third time in your, life wasn’t as difficult as you would have expected. Well, adapting to the technological advances and the new band Sunset Curve had evolved into. The relationship with Luke was at simplicity quite awkward, something Luke never anticipated when he envisioned finding you.

It was painful for everyone in the room with you two. You were trying to deal with the guilt of abandoning your kingdom, of your Narnian friends, of not being with the Pevensies. You had a strong suspicion they had returned back to England, and the time was the hardest to deal with.

Instead of 1994, the current year was 2020 for you—twenty-six years in this world but fifteen in Narnia. You didn’t look a day over your age in 1994. Looking in mirrors was startling every time to see your teen youth instead of the thirty-one-year-old.

Happily, the bond with Alex hadn’t diminished if anything it had gotten stronger. He was assimilating to the new fashion you liked. You had a more mature style and preferred modest outfits; the Narnian fashion was still very much part of you.

Reggie adored hearing the adventures you had done in Narnia, he grew a crush on the version of Lucy you told. He was definitely awed at how you had had a stable of horses that could talk, some weren’t vocal.

All three boys were jealous of the fact that despite being born in the late ’70s, you were alive in 2020. You could touch and interact with everyone while they only had each other, and now you. Flynn had been sceptical but grew to be friends with you.

For you, you would be found staring out the window in the attic of the Molina house where you had settled in. A rather long-winded explanation of being from overseas and your housing having fallen through. Ray and welcomed you into the home with open arms.

“Hey! We’re gonna go explore. Do you wanna come with us?” Alex asked from his spot near the door he had poked his head through. His smile turning upside down at the lost look in your eyes and fingers that played with the only evidence of your Narnian life.

The ring you had worn since Peter had proposed ten years ago with a specially designed ring by the best of the business. Cair Paravel’s military General, formerly of Aslan’s Army, Oreius’ sister Odette had personally pushed the contract to the front.

The ring was absolutely breathtaking of a moonstone set in a rose gold floral metal setting with tiny diamonds in a flora design. It was definitely made with the rarest rose gold, and the moonstone was personally found on a quest Peter had gone on. You were thrilled it had survived the return to the human world.

“Y/N?” Alex spoke once more, gaining your attention from the overcast sky with a bittersweet smile.

“Hey, Alex.” You replied, walking closer for the hug he had quickly made into a requirement every time he saw you.

“Reggie, Luke and I are going to explore if you want to join us.”

The offer was tempting even if you had to submit to being in an awkward environment with Luke Patterson. Seeing him each time brought that love that had overshadowed Peter’s love and that in itself brought tremendous guilt.

“I think I’ll hang here. Thank you for inviting me, Alex.” You softly replied as you retreated to the bed in the large renovated attic. Ray and Rose had renovated it into living space when Julie was still in elementary school.

Ray had spent a few months staying in the attic room after Rose passed away because he couldn’t even touch the doorknob. His sister in law Victoria had to help move things to the attic as Ray mourned his wife.

“I’ll be right back,” Alex told you before he poofed, something you still couldn’t wrap your mind around.

Instead of Alex returning it was Luke with that sheepish smile he adorned in the last week you had returned. Your e/c eyes widened in surprise when they met the hazel of his own.

“Luke.” You breathed astounded as he hesitantly walked closer, “Aren’t you going with Reggie and Alex?”

Luke’s hand gestured to the bed, “May I sit?”

“Yeah!” You nodded shifted to create distance between you and the guitarist that had once held your heart in his hands.

Things were different. The ring on your left hand said so. The wedding ceremony in Narnia said so. Yet your heart didn’t understand further than the yearning and love it throbbed with.

“Alex kinda hit some sense into me. This has been…a rather confusing time since that night in 1995.” Luke didn’t talk about his experience dying with anyone because he was still working through it. To avoid the pain and trauma, he focused on the band instead.

“I can attest to that. A week ago, I was with my family hunting for the White Stag content with my life. Next thing I knew I’m racing after Lucy into a wardrobe in which blasted me with memories.” You sighed thinking back to the banter with Edmund and Susan before Lucy uttered ‘Spare Oom’ of a distant time, “I feel terrible that I had no conscious recollection of my life before Narnia. I’d see a tall blonde in the crowd and have this sudden emotion of loss. I forgot about my own brother.”

“I can’t blame you for anything. You had a responsibility to an entire kingdom.”

“Part of me must have remembered because when I was gifted my horse, it asked me to name her. I chose Mercer without thinking about why. It’s always interested me in the reason behind the choice.” You played with the bedspread to avoid his face and the guilt of abandoning him unintentionally or not.

“How was the music in Narnia?” Luke inquired, bringing a neutral topic to once best friends in the process of recovering the friendship, “Any rock?”

The laugh lightened the heaviness in Luke’s chest and brought a smile to both the teens’ faces. Music was always one of the topics you could talk for hours with the band given the classical background you had.

“None that we had the honour of hearing.” The grin brought a smile to Luke’s face as well, and then some of the pieces of your friendship found their place in the frame.

“So, tell me more about this place.”

And so, you did as the sun set and then rose hours later while you were content to retell the tale of your time. The war with the White Witch and watching Edmund take his last breath and his first one after a drop from Lucy’s Cordial.

As you retold your tale of adventures to Luke, a quartet of siblings scoured a wardrobe decades before the conversation commenced.

A little girl sobbing for her lost sister and greatest friend while her oldest brother closed himself off. A seventeen-year-old closed himself off, finding it difficult adjusting to being a teen once more. As if he hadn’t lived fifteen years with his wife beside him. As if he never had a wife.

Above is the Narnia engagement ring reader wears from Peter

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#luke patterson imagines #luke patterson x reader #peter pevensie imagines #jatp fanfic #narnia #julie and the phantoms imagines #charlie gillespie imagines #luke patterson #peter pevensie #mercer!reader x luke patterson #caitsy and ash productions

[fixielixie]

after thinking about it way too much I’ve decided that out of all the MXTX love interests Lan Wangji is still the most tragic. Yes LBH was pushed into the Abyss by SQQ and there was the five years he was gone, but he at least had memories of SQQ treating him with kindness and he held out hope that he could find a way to bring SQQ back. And HC waited 800 years, but even though he couldn’t find XL for a long time he still knew he was out there. But LWJ. He spent 13 years believing WWX had died after rejecting him. He had no hope of WWX returning, no reason to believe they would ever be reunited, and even if they were he believed WWX didn’t return his feelings. And even before he died most of their interactions had included WWX unknowingly rejecting him in some way, even if he didn’t quite realize what was going on (Xuanwu’s cave, Phoenix mountain kiss, etc.) AND THEN when WWX does come back, LWJ never pushes him, never asks for more than WWX will give him. Just seeing him alive and happy is more than LWJ ever hoped to dream of. And that’s why they’re the best.

i think each of mxtx's male love interest are tragic in their own way and its hard to really compare them because all of their stories are so different. like we would have to bring in the context of how they grew up and then use that to understand their attachment to the main lead.

(for example, what makes bingqius story so tragic is that sqq was the only person in lbhs life to ever show him kindness at no expense of his own, and so the betrayal of sqq not only rejecting his demon side, but also stabbing him (to which he thought sqq was trying to kill him) and throwing him into the abyss was huge. you see just how badly it affected lbh when he emerges years later.) ect i think what makes lwjs suffering to seem more tragic is how human wangxian are compared to the other two couples. both hualian and bingqiu are made up of nearly undefeatable immortals who have endless powers at their hands and literally the rest of forever to be together once the novel ends. meanwhile wangxian seem so fragile when compared to them, which makes their suffering feel more similar to what the reader can relate to. 800 years of being apart from someone doesnt really compute in our brains bc its an absurdly long time, but 13 yrs feels tangible and thus hurts more bc you can /imagine/ it.

#ask #so i cant say i agree with this #but i do understand why people would think so #also ning ying ying was kind to lbh #but her kindness always lead to lbh getting beaten up so dkjsfhksj

[sj-thefan]

4. A New Home (I Don’t Do That Anymore)

Previous | Series Masterlist --

Y/n didn’t have a large apartment. It had a bedroom, a bathroom with doors to both the main room and the bedroom, and everything else was in the main room. She didn’t have a dining set. It was too expensive, and the couch worked just fine. She had a few fold-up chairs stowed in the closet if she needed more sitting space, but they hadn’t been used since moving in. If she wanted, she could clean off the folding table and used the chairs to create a dining area, but the table served as her desk and was frequently covered in clutter. There were books stacked all around the room, similar to how they had been piled in the bookstore.

Her couch was the most versatile piece of furniture in the apartment. Not only did it serve as a dining area and living space, but it was also a bed. When she had been purchasing furniture for her apartment, a futon was one of the requirements. Of course, the only person to use the bed had been her brother when he first moved to the city and had to wait for his apartment. He didn’t enjoy sleeping on it and was all too eager to move into his apartment with a real bed. But for Bucky, it was a cloud compared to what he had been sleeping on lately.

When he woke the next morning, it took him a minute to register where he was. There was a soft beeping noise coming from Y/n’s room that stopped after a few seconds. He could hear her moving, so he got up too.

He folded up his blanket and then the bed. After getting changed quickly and making sure his metal arm was still hidden by the glove and his long sweater, he sat down on the couch. He didn’t want to intrude or do something she wouldn’t like, so he waited for Y/n to come out.

Almost 40 minutes later, Y/n walked to the kitchen, fully dressed, and started making herself a bowl of cereal. When she noticed Bucky sitting on the couch, she smiled.

“You know, you can turn on the TV if you want.”

Bucky glanced at her and gave her a sheepish smile.

Y/n poured two bowls and then brought them over to the couch. She handed one to Bucky. “Eat.” Once he took the bowl, she grabbed the remote and turned on the news.

Bucky didn’t want to admit that he didn’t know how to use a television. Sure, Hyrda had kept him updated with all the new weapons, but in terms of technology, he didn’t need to know a lot to complete his missions. He knew what they were, but he didn’t know how to operate much more than a basic phone. He watched her press the buttons on the remote and saw the result on the screen before him. It wasn’t too tricky; most of the controls were labelled.

“How did you sleep?” Y/n asked before eating a spoonful of cereal.

Bucky stirred his spoon around the bowl, watching the coloured circles. “Better than I have in a while.” He smiled at her before trying the food. It was very sugary, and he didn’t like it all too much, but Y/n seemed to like it, so he continued eating.

Y/n noticed his dislike of the food. “You don’t have to eat it if you don’t like it. I have other food.”

“It’s not terrible; it’s just very sweet—”

“—Bucky, I didn’t make them. You won’t offend me if you don’t like it. I can buy something you do like if you want. Do you have a favourite cereal?” He shook his head. “Well then, we’ll just have to figure it out ourselves.”

--

Y/n took Bucky everywhere. When they needed groceries, she took him with her. He still accompanied her to work, and on her days off, she would take him to a library or a museum or somewhere else they thought might trigger a memory.

The memories didn’t come back nicely. Often, they would come back as nightmares, forcing Bucky to relive the destruction he caused without any control over his actions. He felt lucky not to have woken Y/n with one of his nightmares. He knew it would happen soon, and so he tried to think of an explanation to give her if it did happen.

Now and then, Y/n would ask him if his memories had started to come back, but his response was always the same: “Bits and pieces.”

The voice in the back of his head got louder every day. ‘Monster,’ it would call him. ‘Murderer.’ ‘Trickster.’ ‘Evil.’ ‘Hydra’s puppet.’

It was hard to push the thoughts away, and with every memory that returned, it got harder. Being with Y/n helped. She made him feel happy.

“Come dance with me, Bucky?” Y/n pleaded one night as they cooked. One of her favourite songs had come on the radio that had been playing softly in the background.

He smiled at her but stayed in place. “I can’t dance, doll.” In all honesty, he could slightly recall going dancing once, but he wasn’t sure if he could, or even should, dance. “You go; I’ll finish dinner.”

Y/n had noticed he seemed sullen lately, and one of the things that always cheered her up was dancing. Even if it was just for a moment, she wanted to make him feel better. She turned off the stove and held out her hand until he took it.

Slowly and carefully, he placed his hand in hers.

He followed her as she led them to a free space where they would be less likely to trip. Slowly, and after receiving a nod from Bucky, she guided his empty hand to her waist and placed her hand on his shoulder. She noticed that his hands felt different from each other but didn’t comment on it.

Slowly, she moved them around, swaying gently to the older song. As they moved, she softly sang the lyrics.

“We were strangers in the night, up to the moment when we said our first hello, little did we know, love was just a glance away.”

Y/n giggled at the cheesy lyrics, and Bucky couldn’t help but smile. It didn’t sound like the music he had heard these past months; it was soft, and he liked the way Y/n smiled as she sang. Taking a chance, he lifted his arm for her to spin.

“Ever since that night, we’ve been together. Lovers at first sight, in love forever.”

She smiled at him as she finished the spin.

“It turned out so right for strangers in the night.”

Y/n stared into his eyes, noticing the beauty that arose when he was happy. His usual reserve was gone, replaced with pure and honest emotion.

He smiled. “You’re so beautiful.” The words tumbled from his mouth before he even had a chance to think. He meant them, but he hadn’t meant to say them out loud.

Her smile grew. Her eyes quickly glanced at his lips before she leaned in, pressing her lips to his.

She quickly pulled away, starting to apologize, but Bucky promptly silenced her with another kiss.

If he could have stopped, he would have, but he had never felt so happy. The feeling of her lips as they moved with his was unlike anything he could recall. He couldn’t hear the voice in the back of his head anymore. It was perfect.

-- Next

#Sj writes #I Don't Do That Anymore #IDDTA #Bucky x reader #Bucky Barnes x reader #Bucky Barnes

[felicia-cat-hardy]

My 'Pretty Little Liars' Obsession Led Me To My Best Friend

“Got a secret, can you keep it?” Well, I’ve got one: Though Pretty Little Liars ended in 2017, the seven-season mystery thriller schemed its way into being an integral part of my life for the long haul, so much so that the opening credits live in my head rent-free. To this day, each time I hear the sinister theme song — “Secret” by The Pierces — I’m brought right back to my childhood comfort show (ahem, obsession). The visuals begin with a swipe of mascara, the smear of red lipstick, and a clasp of a heel onto a porcelain doll, which makes me feel like I’m watching someone get pampered for prom. Until, of course, it cuts to four girls standing in front of a casket. It's a chilling moment, one that, until Season 6B, ended with Aria Montgomery (Lucy Hale) delivering her iconic “shh.” I got cast under the show’s spell the first time I saw it, and I wasn’t the only one: Pretty Little Liars led me to my best friend.

Ironically, plotlines about deceit and betrayal actually helped ignite a long-lasting friendship. In 2011, the only other person I knew to be watching PLL was my now-BFF, Taylor, who’s been by my side for over a decade. We were only about 11 and 12 when it premiered, so shout out to our parents for letting us watch a show that dealt with very adult themes like substance use disorder, assault, and grief. Unlike our classmates, who watched tween-appropriate hits like iCarly and Victorious, we became PLL stans.

As fans know, the show is loosely based on the Sara Shepard YA series of the same name, and the first book was my entry point into the PLL universe. I loved reading about blackmailers and murderers navigating high school, but I thought I was the only one who was into it. (Was this my ~I’m different~ complex showing, or were my peers just naturally more inclined to recap Dance Moms? I’ll never know.) So, Taylor first struck up a conversation with me at school because she spotted the first PLL book on my desk — you know, the one painted with porcelain wax dolls warning to “never trust a pretty girl with an ugly secret” in a Gothic script. She asked if I’d watched the TV adaptation yet and we immediately exchanged phone numbers to text about upcoming episodes. We then fell into the fandom. Fast.

I’d never talked to Taylor before this interaction — we had only been in a few classes together — but I always saw her as approachable and friendly. Universally, the beginning of middle school is a big and terrifying year when kids from different elementary schools unite. Eager to meet new people, I reached for friendship at any chance I could get. Taylor made it easy. Aside from being a genuinely kind person (a rare trait for a middle schooler!), she was fangirling over the same thing as me.

Fast forward over a decade later, and the show still feels timeless, especially in its accurate depictions of how dramatic high school can get. It’s no surprise there’s a PLL HBO Max reboot on the way along with the remakes of other buzzy shows from that era (hello, 2010s nostalgia). Ah. It was a simpler time. Back then, Freeform was still ABC Family and for me, Tuesdays meant one thing: PLL is on. What first started as a solo viewing experience soon became a designated hangout time, a time slot reserved for me and Taylor to gush over how much we loved Ashley Benson. (We still do!)

The series had a vibe similar to Gossip Girl or Bridgerton in that a mysterious, unidentifiable pot-stirrer keeps fans guessing each episode, but it was arguably so much better since “A,” the anonymous villain, is out for, you know, murder. Ultimately, it was the type of whodunit that made me and Taylor (and millions of viewers) go down a couple of Reddit rabbit holes — remember the “Aria is A” suspicion? — and this is where my and Taylor’s experience with fan theories began.

Oh, and let’s not forget the location. PLL takes place in the fictional suburb of Rosewood, Pennsylvania, and for two girls from Bucks Country — aka the Philadelphia ‘burbs — we ate it up. The beloved “Welcome to the Dollhouse” episode was exceptionally creepy not only because the Liars get locked into a life-size replica of their bedrooms, but also because our real neighborhood looks extremely similar to their hometown. It operates like Rosewood, too, in that small-town gossip travels at lightning speed.

The Pennsylvania-based plotline also made it easier for us to identify with the characters, who felt like extensions of ourselves. In many ways, we got to know each other through their personalities. Taylor is studious and high-achieving, obviously a Spencer. And I owned feather earrings because I saw Lucy Hale sport them in Season 1, so obviously an Aria. Asking “Are you more of a Hanna or an Emily?” held as much weight in 2012 as asking someone their rising sign in 2021. While it might not say much, it also tells you everything you need to know about a person.

PLL got its start right before live-tweeting shows became popularized, so when we weren’t together, I used to text Taylor on my slide-out keyboard phone (only Zillennials will remember) to compare notes without stumbling upon many spoilers. They read something like this: “Caleb and Hanna are soul mates, TBH.” Like every other fan, we theorized about why A had to be Ian… and Melissa… and Jenna… and Mona… and, you get the point. When our elaborate speculations ran cold, we’d pause DVR’d episodes to gather more clues, like glimpses of Red Coat’s face in her second season introduction, or inspections of those eerie-gloved hands assembling dolls and sharpening knives at the end of each episode.

This game of Clue made room for conversations about all the things. We were in high school during the show’s peak, so it felt like the Liars had laid the groundwork for how to operate our school’s halls. Rosewood High was not traditional — uh, multiple students came back from the dead (*cough* Mona and Alison) — but it did prepare us for the stressors of college applications and first romantic relationships. In fact, Benson’s Hanna Marin would be proud of my matchmaking skills because back then, I introduced Taylor to the boyfriend she’s still with today.

As we both grew up with the show, our friendship got even deeper. The Liars weren’t the only ones to share secrets, and I found it incredibly easy to confide in Taylor. She’s trustworthy, level-headed, compassionate, and an excellent listener. She’s someone I know will always pick up on the second ring and is the type of friend to be there with advice, reassurance, and a quick-witted one-liner. She once joked about never needing a diary because we’ve transcribed the past 10 years of our lives via text.

Our bond has remained strong, especially because the most outrageous PLL-esque plotlines of our lives are ones we’ve experienced together. I love Taylor because I don’t have to provide background for my stories. I’m even so familiar with the cast of characters in her life that when someone re-enters after a long period, I like to say they Alison DiLaurentis’ed her.

And on the off-chance she’s not there to witness something meaningful happen to me IRL, she’s always ready to decipher what went down over texts or dinner and drinks — just like we did when we were teens trying to figure out who A was (minus the wine, of course).

The way she can reconstruct my way of thinking and offer up a perspective I hadn’t seen before is almost paranormal. Whether these are Taylor’s naturally given talents or traits learned from peeling back all the layers of the series, I’m not sure. But she’s always there to decode situations with me — whether they relate to a TV show or during moments when I feel lost.

I couldn’t be more thankful that Taylor entered my life and that PLL played a role in our friendship. I feel so incredibly lucky to know someone like her. Plus, now I have someone who is obligated to watch the reboot with me. Ali was right: Friends do share secrets. And she’s ~quite literally~ the reason Taylor’s got all of mine. Spencer and Aria, you’ve got some competition.

Get Relationship Advice Here

[sunsetinmyvein]

The Radio Station - Chapter One - Think About How to Think

"I’m still not quite used to these proper radio interviews.” He said as he reshuffled the headset over his clean shaven mohawk. “It all… feels so professional.” She laughed in response to that, “Well, it’s nice to know I’m doing my job right, then!”

Eyyyy, I’m back! A sort of different story compared to what I've done in the past. Small snippets in time, across quite a bit of time, focused around radio interviews. Almost all of Matty's interview answers are verbatim transcribed from various interviews, but it's what happens around those answers that's the important stuff.

Taglist: @dot-writes​ @imagine-that-100​ @robinrunsfiction​ @tooshhhy​ and feel free to give me a shout if you wanna be added :D

6th of December, 2012

Adjusting the microphone in front of her, she watched while the last few seconds of the song played out. “You ready?” She asked the man sitting in front of her. He looked up from picking at the sleeve of his jacket, nodding apprehensively as she switched the microphones back on. “That was Sex by The 1975 - and as promised, we have here Matthew Healy of The 1975 with us in the studio this morning.” She spoke, turning on the radio presenter voice.

He leaned towards the mic slightly before speaking, “Hi.”

“How are you doing?”

“Yeah, erm… good?” He said with a small laugh, sounding unsure of himself. “A bit nervous.” He admitted as an afterthought.

“About your show tonight at Barfly?” She asked, remembering her conversation earlier in the day. Her managed warned her not to drag the interview out too much as they had a gig later that evening to prepare for.

“Uh, yeah, that, and I’m still not quite used to these proper radio interviews.” He said as he reshuffled the headset over his clean shaven mohawk. “It all… feels so professional.” He shrugged, looking around the studio for the millionth time. When he’d come in, the process of actually having to check in through a receptionist and wait before he was ushered through was fairly intimidating.

She laughed in response to that, “Well, it’s nice to know I’m doing my job right, then!”

 She figured it would be best to just get the ball rolling to try and give him something better to talk about than his nerves, “So, you guys have two EPs out now. How many more are there on the cards before an album?” She questioned, glancing down at the sheet of question prompts in front of her.

He appeared instantly more comfortable as soon as the topic switched to something that he had better familiarity with, straightening up in his seat and looking more engaged, “There’s probably another couple to come out before we bring out the full album.”

“It seems that the band is getting some good traction with what you already have out.” She pointed out with a nod. Over the last few weeks at the station she’d had a chance to hear the EPs in passing, and she thought that they were pretty decent. But the station itself had been receiving a fair number of requests for them and pretty good feedback whenever they were on the air.

“Yeah! We’re really humbled that we’ve been given the opportunity to live this past year, and we’re only getting closer as a band.”

  “Is there a strategy with how you’re releasing things?” She asked. “Is this all part of some grand plan,” She saw him smile at that, “or a secret to getting your name out there?”

He thought about that for a second, “Kind of a bit of both? When we wrote the first EP, shortly after we’d written the majority of the album, we kind of… I dunno, we just wanted people to…” He paused, taking a short breath as he recomposed his thoughts. “If we were gonna do it, it’s such a personal endeavour, this band. If people are embracing the music, we wanna do it properly. We want people to fall in love with a band the same way you fall in love with a person – the more you know about somebody over a longer period of time, the more you both invest in the relationship.” She was taken aback somewhat by his statement. For a band just starting their career, that was a pretty profound thought process. “That was kind of…” He continued, clearly debating over his words slightly. “We had ideas for a lot of material. We wanted records that went against the grain of most EPs nowadays that are just a single. We wanted to release these little records that kind of almost culminated in a debut record.”

  “That all sounds pretty well figured out.” She noted, still rather surprised at the extent of his answer. It was intriguing watching him stumble over his choice of words to try and get across exactly what he meant. “Does that mean that the tracks from the EPs are going to be on the full album?”

“There’s a lead track off each EP on the album, yeah.” He nodded eagerly as he leaned forward in his seat. “I think there’s been a misunderstanding that our material works chronologically. We wrote the album pretty much before we wrote the EPs. We took singles off the album and wrote EPs around that to take a bit of the story and embellish it a bit. Create a feel for what the album is gonna be like.” He explained, his hand motions getting more enthusiastic the more he spoke.

She made a soft noise of understanding at his answer. Thinking back to the vibe of the two EPs she had listed to, what he was saying made sense. “From what we’ve heard from you so far, it seems The 1975 has a knack for creating upbeat music with fairly deep lyrics in comparison. Is there a reasoning behind that? Is the album going to be similar?” She asked as she flipped her notepad over.

  He let out a sigh as he stared up at the ceiling of the studio, “I dunno… we’re just a band… for ourselves? We just wrote music for ourselves and have since we started when we were kids.” He started, leaning back into his seat. “Because we grew up in punk and pop punk playing around, we were kind of a bands band? Our music just became very, very personal and very, very kind of…” He made a vague gesture with his hands, “I suppose, it’s our only expression? It’s the only thing we’ve ever known how to do. It’s the only form of honest expression we’ve got. A lot of the time it’s quite self-deprecating for me – lyrically. I kind of find solace in it. But I suppose now it’s been romanticised a little bit.”

She wasn’t entirely sure if that answered her question, but pressed on. “Certainly songs like Sex seem to have a lot of girls romanticising you.” She threw in with a laugh. He cracked a grin at her remark.

“I think that is a reflection of our music – coming across as sexy. Not just because of, y’know, all this.” He shot back with a wink as he held a hand proudly on his chest. Any awkwardness he had been carrying at the start of the interview seemed to have dissipated now.

  “All right, we are gonna play another 1975 song and then we’ll be right back. This one came off of the first EP. This is The City.” She announced, happy to segue away from having to discuss whether she thought Matthew Healy was or wasn’t sexy on live radio. As the track started, she lowered her headphones to sit around her neck, the man across the desk from her following her lead. “You’re killing it.” She reassured him.

“Yeah?” He smiled.

“Yeah.” She chuckled, his enthusiasm now that he was on a roll was contagious. “You obviously know what you’re about.”

“Well, I’ve been fuckin’ thinking about it all for long enough.” He laughed loudly. “We spent ages working out what to do before stuff finally started happening for us.” He added for clarification.

“You’ve been the same group since you were kids?” She asked out of genuine curiosity. He looked like he was in his early twenties now, which would mean that they’d already been a band for quite some time. It seemed odd if that was the case, that they’d only had these two releases.

“Yeah, the four of us since we were fourteen or something. Just messin’ about trying to work out what sounds good.” He confirmed.

“Fourteen? That’s pretty young to start a band.” She said in astonishment.

“Yeah, well… I’d just moved to Manchester; I grew up in the very north of the country…” He started, looking like he was about to launch into another story. Part of her wished she had saved this line of questioning for the interview, but another part of her was secretly mildly honoured he was only giving this information to her. “But I went to high school and there was this kind of thing that was going on where the council were letting old people’s kind of bingo halls be used by kids to start bands. And after a couple of weeks it became this scene and everyone started making punk bands.” He explained.

  “So, you got dragged into it by your mates?” She asked.

“Well, in the end our whole social group oriented around that scene.” He shrugged. “We started there at fourteen just because of how fun it was. The fact that we realised we could be genuinely creative but also really indulgent? It was the most fun we could have.” He had a fond smile playing on his lips as he spoke.

“Plenty of time to experiment and work out what you want to be as a band.” She nodded in understanding.

“Exactly.”

“And clearly it’s starting to pay off.”

“You reckon?” He had a genuine look of disbelief.

“I’ve liked what I’ve heard,” She admitted, “and we’ve had nothing but good things coming in about the EPs.”

He scoffed as he ran a hand through his hair, “That’s a lie and you know it. I’m not oblivious to the critics.” He rolled his eyes, but was still smiling. “Thanks, though.”

  They had some more casual chit chat between them until the song came to an end and she switched the audio back over. “And we are back!” She said into the microphone, pulling her headset back on. “Still here in the studio with Matthew Healy, the lead singer of The 1975. Now, I believe that you guys had a few name changes before you finally settled on this one?” She asked as she crossed that prompt off of her list. In an effort to be prepared, she’d tried her best to find out as much about the band online as she could to form some half decent questions. She hated feeling like her interviews were just the same as everything else out there.

“Yeah, we did, but that was when we were just a live band, really. We didn’t really wanna put any music out officially until we were really ready. There were also issues with the old names that we had picked. One of ‘em there was another band called that already, Big Sleep, in America, so we couldn’t call it that. Another we didn’t really like, The Slow Down…” He said with a shrug. “People like to idealise quite a lot of things… in the end, it kind of became our thing? Changing our name. We didn’t really think people cared about our band, anyway.” He laughed softly.

“They certainly do now.” She smiled across at him, earning what appeared to be a delighted look in response. “So, is there any importance to what you finally settled on?”

  “The date doesn’t have any, no.” He said as he shook his head. “It’s this story, that’s been quite over dramatized, to be honest. When I was like… nineteen? I was on holiday with my family. There was an artist who lived in the village who was kind of a local drinker who befriended everybody. I spent a couple of days with him at his house, and he gave me loads of literature to leave with, like Kerouac and beat poetry, you know. Basically one of the books I ended up readin’ six months later, and it had kind of been treated as a diary by the previous owner. And it was dated ‘first of June the 1975’. The use of ‘the’ I felt was quite interesting.” He answered.  “It just stuck with me as a kind of… why? What made them write the 1975? I don’t know, but I think it really works with the fact that we were discovering a lot about ourselves, and we weren’t really sure who we were.” He gazed off into the middle distance for a second, looking like he was zoning out. “George felt it was a bit long at first, because you know, seven syllable band name. But once a band name becomes a band name it’s just there. It’s like that Pavlovian reaction. But I think when we went in for a meeting with our publisher, we’ve always liked to pitch things left of centre, we said ‘we’re gonna call the band The 1975‘ and they said ‘absolutely no way, it’s too long and there’s never been a big band that’s just been numbers.’ And then we looked at each other like ‘that’s the name.’ so I went and got it tattooed on my arm that day.” He laughed loudly. “Sent them a photo of that-” He held out his arm to emphasise the numbers inked there, “-like ‘that’s the name of the band now!’ As soon as they said there’s never been a big band that’s just numbers, we just thought… excellent.”

“The impulsivity worked in your favour, then.” She noted with her eyebrows raised in surprise. To go out and get something like that tattooed as an act of defiance to your creative project was impressive. “Good thing you’ve not had to change it again since.” He just chuckled.

  “It seems to fit in quite well, though, the name. What with the whole black and white aesthetic that you guys have created.” She continued, eager to hear what he had to say on this image that they had surrounded themselves with. Everything she had been able to find out about their ‘look’, how they presented themselves, it all seemed highly thought out and planned. But thinking back to what he had mentioned before, if they’d been a band since they were fourteen, it probably had been.

“If you’re quite altruistic in personality, that’s normally twinned with a certain amount of self-awareness. Because you’re exposed to many situations where you’re putting yourself out there a lot.” He started as he fiddled with the cord of his headset. “I think if you’re an artist and you’re like that, you find solace in maybe… detaching yourself from reality a bit? Because you’re not as exposed as normal. We find a lot of comfort in everything being in black and white, because… Yeah, that’s it, you’re not fully exposed.” He explained as if he was mostly talking to himself, or trying to sort out his answer as he said it. “But it really works for our band because it makes it… a bit out of reach?”

“How do you mean?” She frowned.

He hummed thoughtfully to himself before speaking, “There’s a great quote by Kafka, which is that ‘a camel is a horse designed by a committee’…” He said with a pointed look. “Which is like… one person’s vision is always going to be a lot more concise than something that’s been diluted or compromised by a committee. If you want to project a certain image it needs to be an individual’s own vision in order to be really palatable and really concise and really consumable. So, it’s all about creating something that isn’t that accessible, because we live in an industry where accessibility is paramount.” She was starting to realise that this man truly had very roundabout ways of answering questions. However, it was fascinating listening to his unfiltered thought process as he tried to work out what he wanted to say. She couldn’t say she’d had a lot of interviews with people are interesting as Matthew seemed to be.

  Taking a quick look at the time, she could see that they had to wrap this up shortly. Between the long-winded questions and the songs, her twenty minutes had gone by quite fast. She’d better start winding this down. “What’s next on the agenda for you guys?” She asked, looking back over to him.

“Uh, let me think…” He racked his brain for what their immediate plans were for the near future. “We’re heading out on tour after Christmas, and then pretty much we don’t stop ‘til sometime next year.” He confirmed.

“Sometime?”

“We’re in high demand, what can I say?” He said with a laugh.

“That’s not surprising, I’m sure it’ll only get harder to get a hold of you guys in the future.” She concurred. “Well, it’s been a pleasure chatting with you, Matthew. All the best for the tour and for the next EP.” She nodded. He looked caught off guard for a second. Glancing down at his phone, he was surprised to see how much time had gone by. “Thanks for coming in.”

“No, no. The pleasure’s all mine, truly.” He grinned. “Thank you for having me on.”

“I’m sure we’ll be hearing again from you soon.” She finished up, switching his microphone off as she did her outro spiel. He took his headset off, stretching his arms up above his head before standing up and heading towards the studio doorway. It took her a second of seeing him linger in her peripheral vision to realise that he was waiting to say goodbye. As she started the next track, she slipped her headset off and spun her chair to face him.

“Erm, thanks.” He said as he scratched at the back of his neck. “I’ll see you around?” He asked hesitantly. It was curious to see him go from charismatic interviewee to nervous guy in her studio so fast.  

“As I said, I’m sure we’ll be hearing from you soon. You’ll be back here in no time.” She assured him. He nodded to himself, looking pleased as he headed back outside.

  It was another twenty minutes after Matthew stepped out before her shift ended. Thankfully, she was able to get out of the office pretty quickly. Sometimes she ended up being held back for up to a couple of hours if there were meetings and such that required her attention. And today wasn’t a day that she wanted to deal with any of that. It had been a pretty shitty Thursday to start with. She’d had terrible traffic on the way in, couldn’t find a parking space, had to trudge her way to work in the cold, dropped her coffee when someone ran into her on the way – she just wanted to end a long day. It was approaching evening as she stepped out into the brisk winter air, letting out a sigh as she looked around the street. She started making her way to her car only to catch sight of a familiar mohawked man standing at the side of the station building, smoking with a few other guys. As soon as he spotted her, he shouted her name and waved her over. She debated whether she should go over and talk to a group of more or less strangers or not, but he seemed pretty keen on her joining them. He turned briefly back to the guys he was standing with and as she approached she heard the tail end of him explaining what had happened in the interview.

“This is the band!” He said excitedly.

“Oh!” Instantly, that made a lot more sense than him larking about with a bunch of random people. She took in the other three men he was standing with, noting that they were all quite a bit taller than he was. “You guys could’ve come in to the interview, you know.” She said as she wrapped her arms around herself to try and block out some of the cold threatening to seep in through her jacket.

“Nah, it’s fine.” One of them with somewhat of a beard shrugged.

“We’d rather let him do the talking.” Another quietly agreed.

“He’s loud enough for all of us.” The last one, that also had a kind of mohawk thing going on, spoke up.

“Hey! Fuck off!” Matthew shoved the last one with a loud laugh.

She stood around with them for a bit while they smoked, listening to Matthew talk about the interview and answering the odd question that the band members had for her. This man seemed far more sure of himself than the uncertain one she kept seeing in the interview. He prattled on excitedly about tour and the next EP and just generally seemed more confident. The band only spurred him on as well, encouraging him and getting into in-depth conversations about the tiniest details. She could see where those long-winded answers had come from in their interview. If he held this level of passive confidence and enthusiasm in a casual environment, it was only a matter of time before that started shining through in his career. And it was truly no surprise after speaking with them that this band was getting popular at the rate that they were. They were obviously talented, and had enough drive and direction to push themselves through whatever challenges they faced. She could tell that The 1975 were only just beginning their music industry journey. It was after about fifteen minutes that she figured she had better excuse herself and actually go home – she didn’t really have any reason to hang around here, even if it was nice to chat with such an interesting group of people.

  She waited for a lull in the conversation (which wasn’t very forthcoming) before finally making her move, “I might get going…”

Matthew’s face fell a little before he recomposed himself. “Why don’t you come down to the pub with us for a bite?” He suggested.

“Ah, thanks for the offer but I’ve got places I need to be, and I don’t usually mix business with pleasure as they say.” She chuckled lightly. “Nice to keep things separate.”

“It’s also nice to make exceptions sometimes.” He shot back; a challenging eyebrow raised. “But it’s cool.” He said with a shrug as he dropped his cigarette onto the ground, snuffing it out with his shoe. “For real, though, thank you for all the kind words about the band and the music in the interview. A station with as many listeners as yours… your words mean a lot.” He nodded, looking pensive about whatever was going on in his head.

“It’s really no problem. I meant everything I said.” She smiled back at him. Before she could get on her way, he pulled her into a tight hug. She hadn’t overly expected that from the man she’d known all of about an hour, but she hugged him back regardless, happy for the brief warmth after standing in the icy street. “I’ll, uh,” She cleared her throat, attributing the heat she could feel in her cheeks to being in the cold for so long, “I’ll see you at the next interview.” She said as she finally headed towards her car, leaving Matthew staring after her before heading back to his band mates.

Next Chapter

#Sunsetinmyvein #Matthew Healy x Reader #Matty Healy x Reader

[snovaness]

A Letter

A letter part two

Part one

You should have kept in touch with him. It’s not like you didn’t want to but life got really busy and if you were being honest the time zone difference didn’t help at all. Eventually the messages grew scarce until there were no messages at all. The only reason you knew anything about him was through social media. His Instagram had gotten a flood of new followers ever since he joined MSBY team. People thirsted after him which you thought was strange considering you still saw him as college friend Usa-Chan. His life seemed so exciting while you had graduated school over 3 months ago and still hadn’t found a job.

You felt your phone vibrate and saw it was a notification from Instagram. Opening up the app you see a message from a guy named Atsumu Miya. His messaged read: hey I know you don’t know who I am but I’m Sakusa’s teammate. I am messaging you on behalf of the MSBY Black jackals team because as you know Omi’s birthday is in a week. I’m sorry that this is really short notice but we only recently found out about you being Omi’s best friend two days ago due to the drunken state Sakusa ended up in. The team is willing to purchase your ticket from where ever you are currently and fly you out to Japan. The team has a party planned for him but when we found out that you haven’t seen each other in over 2 years we thought that bringing you out to see him would be a great gift for him. Plus it would be something he actually would like compared to anything else we could get him. Please let me know as soon as you can so our manager can book your ticket. I hope you’re able to join us.

Seeing Kiyoomi again was something you hoped you’d be able to do the first few months after you left Japan but ever since the two of you grew apart you assumed it wouldn’t happen. Would he even be excited to see you? I mean a free trip to Japan sounds nice plus you could visit some of your other friends that you made there. You didn’t really have anything going on currently besides the occasional nanny job. “Fuck it I’m going to accept!”

Hello Atsumu,

I really appreciate this opportunity and I would love to take it but I have to be honest with you, Sakusa and I haven’t really talked to each other in over a year so I’m not too sure if he would be excited to see me. If the offer still stands despite this I am prepared to go at any moment. If not I still appreciate you reaching out to me. I wish your team the best of luck and it was really nice to meet you!

You didn’t expect a reply right away yet again your phone began to vibrate but this time it was from a video call. Well now you knew Atsumu was bold because he was about to video chat with a complete stranger. Without really thinking about it you set your phone against the cereal box and answered the call. You noticed a tuft of orange hair I’m the background as Atsumu sets the phone down. You panicked slightly when you began to hear their fast paced Japanese. Of course you knew they would speak Japanese but considering the message that was sent to you was in English the thought escaped your mind.

“Sorry if my Japanese isn’t the best also I’m in my pajamas because it’s currently 8 in the morning for me.” “Oh no worries! We just wanted to kinda meet you so that way you feel more comfortable around us.” A confused look settled onto your face but then 2 other guys came into the frame. “Hi! I’m bokuto!” “I’m Hinata!” “We’re all teammates with Omi Omi” you let out a slight snort. “You guys call him Omi Omi? I bet he hates that. I can just image the look on his face of pure disgust.” The guys chuckled “that’s the exact look he gave us at first but he’s use to the name now. Anyways I read your message that you guys aren’t really in contact anymore and we know that. He was really drunk a couple nights ago after we won our last match of the season and he mentioned how he wish you guys had better communication but the time difference made things difficult. Our manager will probably contact you tomorrow morning Tokyo time which I’m sure will probably be evening for you. But we’re thinking flying you out two days before Omi’s birthday which gives you one day of traveling and another for resting before the party. We want to see the face he makes when he sees you at the party, which is semi formal by the way.” You spoke to the guys for about an hour going over the details of the trip.

You felt the excitement bubble up in your chest as you saw the familiar scenes of the Tokyo airport. Atsumu himself had come to pick you up with the other two volleyball players. “How was your flight!” Hinata questioned. “It was amazing! You guys didn’t have to get me first class seats! I slept for about half of the flight it was so comfortable. I’m really grateful that you guys did this. Sakusa really has some amazing friends.” You had gotten to Japan the day before the party and even though you have bought enough clothes for a week your craving to shop for Japanese fashion took over. “I’m sure you guys are probably busy today but would any of you like to join me? I want to go shopping.”

You had an enjoyable day with Hinata who was the only one that could join you for your shipping trip. You had even picked up a few gifts for Sakusa himself. Staring at the gift bag that help the pink plush you smiled to yourself. Tomorrow you would be attending the party and would be seeing Kiyoomi after two years. A mix of excitement and fear began to rise in your chest similar to how it did when you arrived at the airport.

The party was in full swing by the time you arrived with Atsumu. Your hands slightly sweaty from the nerves. You noticed the tuft of black curls across the room and Atsumu warned you to hide from Sakusas view until it was time. “Omi Omi! Happy birthday! I’m glad you actually decided to come to your own party. I got you the best gift you could ask for!” Atsumu handed him a decorative bag that held the plush you purchased the day before. As Sakusa pulled out the bunny you made your way to stand behind him. “Sumu why did you buy me a pink bunny?” You put your hand on his shoulder “Now don’t tell me that you forgot all about your nickname Usa-Chan” the look on his face was pure shock.

“I- is this real? How did you know about all this?” He pulled you into a hug “Atsumu actually messaged me on Instagram and said it was a team gift for your birthday to invite me  since you know it’s been a little over two years.” He gave you a big smile “well your Japanese has gotten better. Plus your hair is different now but I won’t lie I already knew that from Instagram. Looking at you is like I’m in a dream right now because I never expected you to be in front of me again.” He placed a hand on your cheek “well you know me I’m a sucker for romance so I had to come back after that letter you wrote me” his face turned into a light shade of pink “ahh yeah the letter I wrote you when you left... we never talked about that so I thought you never got it”

For the rest of the party you hung around Sakusa and his teammates, Komori even spoke to you for a while. As the night went on all you could think about is how everything felt like it was normal, it was as if nothing had changed. Unfortunately, many things had changed since those college years. You still haven’t found a job while Sakusa was successful volleyball player. The two of you were on different paths in life. Your smile began to fade into a frown. Many thoughts burned into your mind ‘You shouldn’t have come to Japan’ ‘Sakusa forgot about you there was no reason to be here’.

“Hey what’s eating you up?” “I just feel a little out of place with all these successful people around me” Usa-chan’s laugh vibrated through the room as you spoke to Atsumu. “What do you mean? Omi Omi said you were studying to be in sports medicine isn’t that pretty successful?” You let out a sigh “It would be if I could find a job but it’s been a rough few months since I graduated. I was supposed to work with a soccer team in Spain but that didn’t go through since my Spanish wasn’t advanced enough. My only option is going to be in English speaking countries I guess.” You noticed a grin grow on Atsumu’s face. “You know I happen to know a team that is in need of a physical therapist. Hey Omi! I think I found the perfect person for our little Japan team problem”

You sucked in a deep breath when Kiyoomi made his way over to the two of you. “What Japan team problem?” There was a wiggle in Atsumu’s brows that looked troublesome. “We aren’t supposed to say anything yet but last week we got selected as official players for Japan’s Olympic volleyball team and I heard that the usual physical therapist they hire is retiring. I’m sure Omi and I can pull some strings.” “Wait did you even give her an option? You don’t even know if she wants to move to Japan. You can’t expect her to just pack up her life and move to a whole different country especially when a stranger is asking her too.”

“I would be willing if you asked me Kiyoomi. If you told me right now to apply for a visa for the Japan olympic team I would.” Pink began to tint his cheeks but you weren’t sure if he was blushing or if the alcohol had finally begun to take its affect on him. “Y/n we haven’t seen each other in 2 years it would be stupid for you to do that. I mean I’m sure you have offers back at ho-“ “No I don’t have any offers. I’ve been a part time nanny for my parents neighbors for 3 months now. Usa-chan… do you still feel the way you did when you wrote me that letter? I need to know if coming back here was a mistake.” There was an awkward silence which was Atsumu’s cue to leave the two of you alone on the balcony of the ball room that was rented out. “I thought I moved on. I even went out on dates with other people but I just kept thinking about that time we almost kissed in my car. I haven’t been able to escape from your grasp. Listen if you really want to move back to Japan… if you want to move here for me I can talk to the teams management.” He placed his hands on both sides of your face “I regret not keeping up with you I hope you know that Y/n” you nodded slightly “I regret never kissing you that night in the car.”

“I can fix that if you want.” Your eyes fluttered shut as the feeling of his lips began to graze over yours. All in one swift movement he pulled your face towards him to deepen the kiss. His mouth tasted of champagne and it began to feel intoxicating. He pulled away but you kept your eyes shut a few moments longer. Finally when you opened them you spoke. “ I never wanted to leave Japan in the first place. If I have the opportunity to stay here with you and find a job I would take it in a heartbeat. He smiled down at you. “Stay at my place tonight and I’ll make the call tomorrow morning.”

The next few days felt like an alternate reality. There you were in an interview for your paperwork to live in Japan with the lawyer of the Japanese olympic volleyball team, next you were heading back home to pack and great rid of somethings you would no longer need, and finally you were moving into your own apartment near the gym for the Olympic Games. With Kiyoomi’s hand in yours you walked into the gym together greeting all your new coworkers who would quickly become some of your best friends.

#sakusa #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi #sakusa x reader #sakusa x you #kiyoomi #kiyoomi sakusa x reader #hq kiyoomi #kiyoomi fluff #haikyuu!! #haikyuu #haikyū!! #haikyuu x reader

[mirkwoodshewolf]

Robin and Gale Hood; Ben Hardy x reader Chap. 5

*Author’s note*

Okay now that all over our initial characters have been introduced, it’s time for some REAL action. This one is a bit long so sorry not sorry but everything is important here in this chapter. So expect some blood, violence and some medieval claims against women.

Chapter 5,

The Archery tournament

Taglist:

@plethora-of-things

@waddles03

@psychosupernatural

@ixchel-9275

@simonedk

@jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels

@queen-paladin

@queensdivas

@queendeakyy

@geek-and-proud

@wormzteef

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The next day just as promised, everyone in Nottingham was gathered out in the fields to see the archery tournament.  Every eligible archer had signed up for the chance to win either the golden arrow or get the kiss from the lovely Maid Marian.

As a parade marched around the field while the villagers gathered around to find a good seat, up on the throne stand, Prince John and Sir Heston stood looking over the crowd.  Prince John was lightly bouncing with excitement as he told his serpent advisor.

“Heston, the time has come for me to finally enact my revenge. My trap is baited and set and then revenge! Revenge!”

“Shhh. Not so loud sire. I know how much this has meant to you but you don’t want to give your plan away to capture Robin Hood so quickly.”

“That insolent blackguard! Ohh! I’ll show him who wears the crown!” Prince John proclaimed as he plopped down on his throne and slammed his hand on the armrest.

“I share your loathing sire. That scullery scoundrel who fooled you with that ridiculous disguise. Who dare insult your intelligence and superiority…..”

“ENOUGH!!” Prince John exclaimed as he tried to hit Heston over the head but the python dodged his attack. “Heston, you deliberately dodged.”

“But-but-but sire…..please.”

“Stop sniveling and hold. Still.” The prince sneered lowly. Heston straightened his head up and he was then hit on top of the head by Prince John.

“Thank you sire.” Heston lowly groaned.

Soon arriving to the field grounds were Maid Marian, Prince James and Arthur Kirkland.  Marian hugged her cousin and best friend saying.

“Oh you guys I’m so excited. But how will I recognize him?”

“Ohh he’ll let you know somehow. That young rouge of yours is just full of surprises.” Arthur said as he took Marian’s hand and patted it.

“Yes cousin. If I remember that rascal, he’ll do whatever it takes to get to you.”

“Well don’t leave yourself out James. I’m sure that wherever Robin goes, Gale is not far behind.” Marian told her young cousin and the three of them walked on.

But oh little did they know was that just behind them hiding in the bushes and trees were the gang of rebels.  Robin and Gilbert wearing similar peasant clothing and they each had their own handmade bows and arrows (that differed from the ones they normally used as to better hide their true identities).

While Little John and Gale wore royal clothing that befitted Hungarian royalty, and David wore a count’s robes and Kit wore a captain of the Guard’s armor.

“There she is lads. Golly—has she gotten even more beautiful.” Robin said in awe.

“He grew his hair out. I did once tell him he’d look good with long hair. Never did I think it—he’s like a God.” Gale also whispered in awe.

“Cool it you two lovebirds. Your hearts are running away with your heads.” Little John said as he handed Robin a large grey hat.

“Oh stop worrying. This disguise would fool our own mum, right Gale?” Robin said as he placed the hat on him and tied the blue bandana around his neck.

“Yeah. But our mum is dead. You and Gilbert need to fool ol stick up his arse over there.” Soon walking towards them was the Sheriff of Nottingham himself.  Gilbert and Robin winked at their friends and walked out.

“Sheriff your ‘onor!” Gilbert spoke with an exaggerated Irish accent.

“Yes…..” the sheriff muttered before both his hands were suddenly taken and being shaken with such strength and force as Robin now spoke in a Irish tone.

“Meetin yah face to face is a real treat for me brother and I. A real, real treat.”

“Well thank you.” the Sheriff said as he managed to get his hands free. “Now if you both will excuse me I’ve got a tournament to win.” As the Sheriff walked away, Robin and Gilbert signaled to the others of the success playfully laughing behind the Sheriff’s back.

“Well that’s phase one done.” Gale said.

“Yeah they’re not bad actors. But wait till they see the scene we lay on Prince John. My Queen.” Little John spoke as he bowed and held out his hand for Gale.

She giggled poshly and took his hand and the two of them walked on with Kit and David walking behind, holding the train of Gale’s dress. As the two of them finally stood before Prince John, Gale spoke up doing her best Hungarian accent.

“Ahh mi lord!” the four of them walked up to the Prince as she continued, “Our esteemed high King of England. The all mighty God himself. You’re magnificent.” She praised as she and the boys bowed.

Prince John who soaked in this praise from this strange woman chuckled softly and said.

“Well, she sure does have style ehh Heston?” Gale let out a posh laugh before saying.

“Oh you are a flatterer PJ.”

“PJ? I like that you know I do. Heston put it on my luggage. PJ. Ha-ha! Hahahaha! Ha-ha! PJ yeah…..” the Prince proclaimed before laughing and muttering to himself as he stroked his tache.  Heston however wasn’t buying it.  He lifted himself up to Gale and Little John and hmphed.

“And just who might you be miss?” he hissed out.

“How dare you insult our lady Queen and Duke!” Kit proclaimed angrily using a thicker Hungarian accent.

“Easy now my dear Captain. This creepy thing obviously has no class whatsoever.” Gale said.

“Excuse me?” Heston gawked.

“This is our beloved Queen of Hungary, Queen Elizaveta I. And I am her royal Duke Sir Reginald. And it’s rude to stick your tongue out at a lady.” He took Heston’s hat off his head and put it over his nose and mouth.

“If I may my liege, allow me to lay some protocol upon you.” Gale said as she curtsied and took Prince John’s hand to kiss it.  He quickly removed his hand away from her and said.

“Oh no forgive me but I lose more jewels that way. Please, both of you sit.”

“Thank you PJ.” Gale giggled as she sat down to his left while Little John took the seat to his right.  “I always enjoyed the tournament of the peasant folk. Oh! OH!! HEY WHAT!!! CAPTAIN! COUNT!” Gale spoke before feeling something squirming underneath her butt.

Quickly David and Kit came into action and pulled out Heston from underneath her.

“Oh my. Excuse me serpent.”

“Serpent? You vile harpy have taken my seat!”

“How dare you insult the Queen of Hungary!” David sneered angrily.

“Your majesty, if you would permit me, allow me to silence this snake once and for all.” Kit threatened with a dark smirk as he withdrew his sword.  Heston shuddered in fear as Prince John said.

“Oh never mind him. Besides he should now be out there keeping his snake eyes open for you know who.”

“Wait—sire you—you mean I…..I’m being dismissed?”

“You heard his mightiness move it creepy get lost. Be gone long one.” Little John said as he slapped Heston with his cane and Heston slithered off backstage.

“What vulgar beasts. Creepy? No class serpent? Long one? Oh whose that dopey Duke and Queen of Hungary think they are anyway?!” he then slithered off to do his job assigned to him.

As the good Friar and I stood side by side each other and we watched that vile snake slither off muttering to himself, I turned to Friar Tuck and said.

“Now you know he’s up to something darling.”

“Indeed. Come on Alan.” He told me and we raced off to find that serpent before he could ruin anything.  For now my darlings until Friar Tuck and I find that snake, you’re just gonna have to watch for yourselves on what happens next.

The fanfare sounded off and soon all the archers came walking in single file across the field with their bows in hand and their quiver of arrows on their backs.

Finally arriving on the stage were our three young royal characters.  Marian was the first to step up on the stage and she curtsied to Prince John who gave her a slight acknowledgment.  Arthur was next and he bowed before the Prince who just gave him a sideways glance.

When James finally came up and bowed before him, Prince John flat out turned his head aside and refused to even look upon his half-nephew. Which to be honest didn’t upset James at all, for he loathed his half-uncle for sending his father away and ruining the people of Nottingham.

But soon his eye caught sight of Gale.  At first he didn’t see it at first, all he saw before him was the radiant woman who felt familiar in a way.  He walked over to her and when the two of them locked eyes she gasped and quickly took out her fan and opened it up and hid from him.

“Oh I—beg your pardon my lady. I—you just look like someone I once knew.”

“And just who would that be young man?” asked Kit slightly interrogating him.

“A……a girl I once knew long ago.”

“Well may we introduce our majesty, Queen Elizaveta I of Hungary.” David said.

“Your majesty.” Prince James said as he knelt down on one knee and took her right hand in his.  It wasn’t until he looked down and saw the ring on her thumb.  He quickly looked up in shock, that’s when ‘Elizaveta’ lowered her fan just until her eyes were visible and his heart stopped.

He knew those eyes anywhere.  Only one women had entrancing eyes like that.  And even through the disguise, he knew she had gotten even more beautiful than ever before.

“I have seen many wonders of the world, but none can compare to the beauty that lies within your eyes.” James praised in awe as he gave a sweet, loving kiss to Gale’s hand.

As his thumb gently brushed the back of her hand and down her fingers, Gale felt that bolt of electricity that only James had given her in the past.

“Why thank you my fine young English man. And you have a face that would make the archangel Michael boil with envy.” James softly smiled and kissed her hand once more, making Gale’s heart go BOOM.  She softly gasped, the two of them not breaking eye contact once.

Marian who had been watching her cousin with intrigued eyes, knew right away that the so called ‘Queen’ was actually his Gale Hood.

As she smiled happily for her cousin, a throat cleared before her and when she turned she saw a man dressed in an oversized robe, wearing a very large grey hat and a blue bandana that almost kept his face hidden.

“Ahhh your ladyship. Begging your pardon but it’s a great honor to be shooting for the favor of a lovely lady like yourself.” He spoke in an Irish accent and held in his hand a white daisy.

She reluctantly took it from the strange man who then whispered to her.

“I hopes I win the kiss.” Before giving her a wink.  She let out a soft gasp and when she looked into his eyes, and he looked back into hers she knew just who this man was.

“Well thank you my fine, bow-legged archer.” She said as she stroked the flower under her chin before softly giggling. “I wish you luck,” she then leaned closer to her love and whispered so that only he could hear, “With all my heart.”

The two of them stared lovingly at each other before Robin snapped out of his daze and took his place with the other contestants.

Soon coming up towards the royal stands was the captain of the guard who held on a fluffy pillow the prize of the golden arrow.  He presented it to Prince John and said.

“Your highness, with your royal permission we are ready to begin.”

“Proceed captain.” Prince John said.  He then gave the arrow to Maid Marian who bowed her head to the Captain.

“The tournament of the golden arrow will now begin!” the Captain proclaimed to one and all.  As a final fanfare of the trumpets played out, the contestants readied their bows and soon arrows went flying out.

The crowd cheered and whistled as arrow after arrow flew from one side of the field to the range of targets spread out on the other side. Many people were hitting various places on their targets but not quite worthy enough to gain a spot for the golden arrow and the kiss.

That was until the Sheriff of Nottingham took his shot and got close to the center of the bullseye.  Of course when that happened, the crowd all hissed and booed at the arrogant, vile sheriff.  Next up Gilbert and Robin readied their arrows and fired two straight bullseyes into their targets, to which the crowd applauded.

Marian clapped for Robin’s success knowing that he was one step closer to winning their kiss.

“A perfect bullseye. Well, well.” Prince John said intrigued as he stroked his mustache.

“Yeah, that’s what we in Hungary call pulling back and lettin it go PJ.” Little John said to him.

“He’s gotten better.” Prince James said. “I’m sure you must be honored to see such skill from him.”

“Indeed I am, my prince.” Gale said as the two of them secretly hooked pinkies with each other.

“I’m gonna win that golden arrow! And then I’m gonna present meself to the lovely Maid Marian……” Robin boasted as the Sheriff readied his next arrow.

“Listen you Irish hound dog. If you shoot half as good as you blabber you’re better than Robin Hood.”

“Robin Hood he says! Wow-wee you hear that brother!?” Robin exclaimed as he playfully slapped the Sheriff in the back.

“My brother is tip-top but we’re nowhere as good as he is. In fact I’d say I’m better than that rouge.” Gilbert teased as he fired his arrow behind his back without even looking at the target.  It landed right on the bullseye and as the crowd continued to cheer, the Sheriff couldn’t believe his eyes.

Back on the stands, Gale fanned herself and she said.

“My, my. Those two have class. Don’t you think so PJ?”

“Indeed they do, Eliza. Bravo! Uh, bravo. Yes.” Prince John said before doing a light applause and grinning to himself.

Robin took out an arrow and observed it as he began to make conversation with the sheriff about a topic that he knew would make the sheriff explode.

“Oh umm….by the way. We hear you’ve been having a bit of a fascination with Robin’s clever little sister Gale Hood these days.” The sheriff lowered his bow and he said.

“She’s a witch that’s why. Just like her wench of a mother, she’s inherited the black magic of her people. I wouldn’t even be surprised if she’s put a spell on that brother of hers in order to hide from me.” Robin would’ve slugged him right then and there but he held back his anger to hide his cover.

Gilbert also had to hold in his anger cause even worse than Robin, he wanted to kill the sheriff for saying such a thing about Gale.

Unbeknownst to the three men, Heston (who had been observing the two young archers since the beginning with utter suspicion) slithered up towards Robin and peeking through his robes, he could see the green attire underneath.

He softly hissed and slithered through the thick bush muttering to himself.

“I knew it. It’s Robin Hood. Oh he thought he could hide but no one can hide from a snake.” As Heston continued to slither, he was soon stopped by a lute guitar in his path.  When he looked up there before him stood Friar Tuck and you guessed it, me!

“Going somewhere Heston?” I asked snidely.  Before the snake could speak again, Friar Tuck and I grabbed him and muzzled his mouth shut.

We then found an ale barrel and I uncorked the top of it while Friar Tuck straightened Heston out and carefully lowered his body into the barrel. The snake’s muzzled demands fell on deaf ears as Tuck punched him in the head and I closed the barrel with the cork once more.

“That’ll take care of him for a while.” I told him.

“Thank you my friend.”

“Anytime my darling. We better get back to see if Robin and Gilbert made it to the finals yet.”

“C’mon then.” We raced back towards the crowd and heard the Captain proclaim.

“Attention everyone! The three final contestants are……the honorable sheriff of Nottingham!” The sheriff stood up and took his bows but he was only met with hisses and boos from the crowd. “And the Walsh brothers of Bristol.” The crowd cheered as Robin and Gilbert high-fived each other and waved to the crowd.

When Robin turned to the royal stands, he gave a friendly wave and kiss to Maid Marian who waved back to him with a loving smile.  Prince John turned to her noticing her favoritism and said to her.

“My dear I suspect you favor the bowlegged Irish archer, hmm?” Marian smiled shyly and said.

“Uh. Why yes, sire. Well—at least he amuses me.” Prince John laughed before saying as he turned back towards the field.

“Coincidentally my dear girl. He amuses me too.” He chuckled darkly.

“For the final shoot out! Move the target back 30 paces!” the drums rolled and that’s when the Sheriff ordered one of his guards.

“You heard him Wormtail! Get going you rat on two legs!” the stoutly man soon got behind the target and the Sheriff whispered to him. “And remember what you’re supposed to do.”

“Yes sir, sheriff sir.” Wormtail said as he moved the target back 30 paces before setting the target back down.  The Sheriff readied his bow for one last shot.  He took careful aim and released his arrow which went flying. But to everyone’s surprise and no one’s foul calling, Wormtail jumped up into the air and the Sheriff’s arrow went straight into the bullseye.

The Sheriff grinned proudly and said.

“Well, guess that shot wins the golden arrow, the kiss, the whole nine yards.”

“Now just a second Sheriff. Don’t go counting my brother and I out just yet!” Gilbert snapped.

“Your right, my apologizes. Good luck you two.” Gilbert brushed past the Sheriff and readied his arrow.  He aimed right for the Sheriff’s arrow, ready to split it down the middle, but before he could take the shot something happened.

Gilbert suddenly let out a pained scream and he collapsed to his knees, holding his lower back in agony.

“BROTHER!” Robin cried out.

“Get a medic over here now!” The Sheriff called out.  Soon medics arrived and they soon found that his lower hip was bleeding rapidly.  They patched him up as best as they could before taking him away.

“Wait, wait!” Gilbert groaned as he gripped Robin’s sleeve and whispered to him. “Split his arrow Rob!” Robin nodded and soon the medics took Gilbert away to patch him up.

Robin then saw the Sheriff tuck in a small bloodied up dagger back into his sleeve and felt utter rage within him.  He hoped that after this was over, he’d get the chance to really beat the hell out of the Sheriff.  

For not only did he have the gawk to insult his sister, but he also attempted to kill one of his best men right in front of him.

As he took his stand and readied his arrow, he inhaled deeply before exhaling out softly.

‘This is for you Gilbert.’ He thought to himself.  Suddenly his bow was tipped upwards and his arrow went flying sky high.  The crowd gasped and using his last arrow, Robin fired his arrow at his old one.

The second arrow struck the tail of his first arrow which dipped it downward, soaring through the air like a falcon diving.  And miraculously it not only hit the bullseye, but it obliterated the Sheriff’s arrow right off the target.

The crowd soon cheered loudly at Robin’s victory. Marian above all else was most excited as she embraced Arthur excitedly.  James and Gale both whistled and cheered for Robin.

Prince John clapped slowly but turned to the Captain of the guard and gave him the signal.  The captain nodded and winked before looking around and whispering to one of the royal guards.

Robin tossed his bow into the air and caught it doing a victory twirl and headed on over to the royal stands and escorting behind him was the royal guard.  Maid Marian staring at him lovingly and smiling as she now sported the daisy behind her ear and resting against her long blonde locks.

As Robin now stood before Maid Marian who held the golden arrow, Prince John stood up from his throne and said to him.

“Archer I commend you. And because of your superior skill you shall get what is coming to you. Our royal congratulations.”

“Oh thank you kindly your highness. Meetin you face to face your high and mighty is a real treat……”

“Yes, yes, yes I know!” Prince John interrupted him before clearing his throat.  He then took out his sword and began to knight Robin as he said, “And now I name you the winner. Or more appropriately,” he chuckled darkly before tucking the blade into Robin’s robes destroying his costume and revealing himself. “The loser!”

The crowd all gasped in horror, and even Gale, David and Kit stood there horrified.

“Seize him.” Prince John nonchalantly decreed.  The guards soon wrestled with Robin Hood as he tried to escape and fight off each of the guards, but they easily overpowered him and had him bound and chained up. “I sentence you to instant, sudden and even immediate death!” Prince John hissed.

“Oh no!” Maid Marian gasped fearfully.  Tears formed in her eyes and gently seeped down her cheeks. She turned and pleaded to Prince John. “Please, please sire! I beg of you to spare his life, please have mercy!”

“My dear emotional lady why should I?” Prince John asked not caring at all for Marian’s tears.

“Because I love him.”

“Love him?” Prince John asked in surprise. “And does this prisoner return your love?” Robin turned to see his beloved’s tears run down her face. He longed for nothing more than to break out of his binds, hold her in his arms, and kiss those tears away.

“Marian my darling, without you it’s like there’s no air for me to breathe.” Marian placed her hand over her heart at Robin’s declaration of love, while Arthur wrapped a comforting arm around her.

“Ahh young love.” Prince John mocked.  Marian and Arthur turned to Prince John.  Arthur glaring while Marian continued to allow some tears to fall down her face. “Your pleas have not fallen upon a heart—of stone.” He continued to mock sympathetically before proclaiming out “But traitors to the crown must die!”

“Traitors to the crown? That crown belongs to King Richard! LONG LIVE KING RICHARD!!” Robin exclaimed.

“LONG LIVE KING RICHARD!!!” the people of Nottingham echoed back.

“ENOUGH!! I AM KING! KING! KING! That’s it! OFF WITH HIS HEAD!!!!”

The drums soon started playing that dreading death beat. The executioner soon came up with his axe as the guards forced Robin on his knees.  The crowd went dead silent with horror as they were about to witness the beheaded of their beloved hero.

Marian sniffled and sobbed into Arthur’s chest.  He embraced his friend trying his best to comfort her.  Suddenly screaming through the air was a female voice.

“NOO!!!” everyone gasped out and covering his body like a shield was Gale.  She glared with pure hatred at the executioner and she sneered.

“If you kill him, you’ll have to kill me too!”

“Queen Elizaveta get away from that blackguard at once!” Prince John proclaimed.

“Never you filthy dog! I’ll never let you touch another hand to my brother again!”

“You’re what?” she stood up and removed her disguise and the crowd all cheered as they now saw Gale Hood in her traditional clothing. The with one swift stroke of her dagger, she freed her brother. “Robin Hood has a sister?!” Prince John exclaimed in surprise.

“He does indeed sire. And this one’s a witch just like their filth of a mother was.” The Sheriff told him.

“Takes a demon to know one Sheriff! You both abuse the people of Nottingham, the same way you both abuse your power of authority! You both speak of loyalty and keeping the law yet you are cruel to those most in need of help! Manipulating and mistreating them for your own selfish gains!”

“SILENCE!!” Prince John whined out.

“But there is one man who knows well the difference between power and respect. And you Prince John took that right away from him when it rightfully belongs to him! LONG LIVE PRINCE JAMES!!”

“LONG LIVE PRINCE JAMES!!!” The people of Nottingham echoed back Gale’s proclamation, just like they did for Robin.  James turned to Gale who looked back at him with soft eyes.

“Sheriff of Nottingham, arrest them both!” Prince John proclaimed.

“It will be my pleasure.” The sheriff growled lowly.  He snapped his fingers and soon his guards surrounded the two siblings.

“Hmm let’s see now there’s……” Gale then began counting out the number of guards to herself then said. “So there’s ten of you and two of us. What’s a poor defenseless woman to do?” Gale pulled out a handkerchief from her pocket.

She then began to fake sob into the handkerchief before blowing on it which erupted red smoke out of it and soon both siblings disappeared.

“I knew she was a witch.” The Sheriff muttered.

“Oh boys~ we’re over here!~” a voice soon cooed out.  The guards all turned and hidden within the toys and trinkets were both Robin and Gale.

“Kill them! Don’t just stand there! Kill them!” but then leaping from the royal stand, Little John, David and Kit sprang into action and helped out their fearless leaders.

Little John took on two of the biggest guards while David and Kit tag-teamed a few other guards from reaching the two siblings.  Together Robin and Gale sword fought against a few guards while sneaking up behind them was Prince John with his sword raised.

Turning around, Robin easily knocked away the prince’s sword and he quickly turned from sneaky failed assassin to trembling child in a matter of seconds.

“Please, please don’t hurt me! No don’t hurt me! Help! Help!” Prince John fled to the safety of some drinking barrels before exclaiming out once more “KILL THEM ALL!!!”

From the royal stands James withdrew his sword and told Arthur.

“Get Marian out of here Arthur.”

“But what about you?” he asked.

“Don’t worry I’ll be fine. They didn’t call me the lion’s fang for nothing. Now go quickly!” James charged forward and joined in the fight.

When Robin was distracted from fighting off a guard, another one was aiming his arrow right for his back.  Just before the guard took the killing shot, James stopped the guard and with one swift swipe across his back, the guard fell to the ground.

After knocking the guard he was fighting, Robin turned to see Prince James standing a few feet away from him.

“Thank you.” he told the Prince.

“Figured you could use an extra sword.” James said.

“Where’s Marian?” Robin asked.

“She’s fine. Arthur’s taking her away from here. And don’t worry, he’s just a friend of ours.”

“I wasn’t worried about that.” Robin said.

“I know, but just in case you were. Arthur only has viewed her as a sister from when we first met him in London. Now where’s Gale?”

“I don’t know. But she’s alright, she can handle herself.”

“I hope so.” The two then raced off to continue the fight.

Meanwhile deep within the woods Laura, Michael and Robert had gotten lost in the woods in the midst of the chaos of the crowd fleeing since the battle began.  The three siblings were frantically trying to find their parents when they got lost in the woods.

“Mama! Pa!” Robert cried out.  Suddenly they heard a branch snap and coming out of the trees was the Sheriff of Nottingham, his sword withdrawn and when he spotted the three Sharpe children, his eyes narrowed.

“Just my luck.” He sniped coldly.  Michael trembled with his arrow and fired at the Sheriff but his aim was terrible and it only embedded itself into a tree. “That was your first mistake child.”

“You dare touch a hair on those kids and you’ll regret it!” a female voice snarled protectively.  The Sheriff then felt a blade right at his neck and he slowly smirked.

“The demon!” he hissed.

“The only demon I see is you. Now step away from those children and draw your sword on me you coward.” As the Sheriff spun around and tried to slash at Gale, she quickly side-stepped and stood guard in front of the Sharpe children.

Protecting them like a mother bear would her own cubs.

“Kids get up into the trees, now!” The kids quickly climbed up as high as they could go to keep away from the Sheriff and watched with awe and terror at the fight that was about to go down. “You claim me to be a witch, well I can certainly say I can take you down without black magic.”

“You’re a vile succubus of the Earth Gale Hood. Hypnotizing anyone with your charm before you taint their souls to the darkness. Using men to do your dirty work for your own selfish gain.”

“You know sheriff you would’ve made a great judge. What happened? King Richard saw your perverted side and put you in the lowest rank possible away from the palace?” The Sheriff then lunged for her but she spun around him and gave him a good cut along his cheek with her hidden knife.

As she stood behind him she told him as he wiped his cheek and saw the blood on his hand.

“That was for Gilbert. Now you both have a matching set.”

“Enough tricks siren!” the two then began to go full on at each other, spinning around each other and nearly making close calls with each other.

Of course the Sheriff had one more dirty trick up his sleeve. After Gale had gotten him on his knees after slashing his leg with her sword, he secretly took some dirt in his fist.

“Ms. Gale watch out!” Michael cried out but it was too late, he tossed the dirt right into Gale’s face.  She cried out as the soil stung her eyes and she continued to scream as the Sheriff now had her pinned against him, her arm bent far behind her back and his other hand gripping her hair pulling her head backwards.

“As magnificent as you are, you are still a woman. And women are feeble creatures.” He tossed her down to the ground up.  Her head hitting against the trunk of the tree.

He raised his sword high in the air ready to strike down at Gale and finally end her.  Robert tucked his brother’s and sister’s heads into his chest and he too closed his eyes not wanting to see the inevitable.  His sword then swung down and through the forest a loud CLANK was heard.

The kids slowly opened their eyes and that’s when Laura gasped happily.  The sheriff stood there in fear for standing right before him blocking his attack on Gale was Prince James.

“I knew he’d save her. Just like the princes do in the storybooks.” Laura said to her brothers.

He pushed the Sheriff’s sword aside and with a fast strike, he managed to cut a small chunk of the Sheriff’s long black hair.  As it fell to the ground the Sheriff looked up at the Prince with horrified eyes.

“Touch her again, and I’ll cut off more than just your hair.”

“My-my Prince…….I-I meant no harm. Please have mercy on me.” The Sheriff pleaded as fell to his knees.

“If you have the pride to attack a woman and attempt to kill children, you should have the balls to fight against me. Now on your feet!” The Sheriff’s fear soon melted away as his cold exterior came back up and he stood back up.

“So she’s corrupted you too? The future king. Never fear your highness, I shall remedy of your tainted soul.”

“Oh you’d be surprised just what she’s taught me.” Challenged James.  The Sheriff cried out as he lunged towards the Prince.

But ohh James was indeed a clever fighter.  Just like Gale did to him earlier, he spun around the Sheriff but instead of using his sword he thrusted it to the ground and quickly mounted onto the Sheriff’s shoulders.

Using his momentum and the Sheriff’s own body weight against him, the Prince spun the Sheriff of Nottingham right off his feet.  When the Sheriff, dazed and confused of what had just happened to him, he heard a snap of his bone.  It was then he realized that the Prince had pulled his right arm behind his back and actually broke it.

Before the Sheriff could even turn onto his back, he soon found not only the Prince’s sword, but his own sword crossed over each other over his neck, ready to behead him.

“Please……my Prince….mercy.”

“Every breath you take is mercy from me. I should kill you where you stand for your crimes against Nottingham.” The sheriff closed his eyes fearfully awaiting his punishment.  “But unlike my bastard of an uncle, I know self-control. And I won’t kill before children.” He released the sheriff and gave him a final threat, “But harm those children or Gale’s family again, and next time my sword won’t stop.”

He tossed the sheriff’s sword to the ground and like a frightened dog, the Sheriff ran with his tail tucked between his legs.  James put his sword away and looked up at the tree.

“You children alright?”

“Yeah we’re okay.” Robert said.

“Thank goodness. C’mon down now, he won’t be back anytime soon.” Robert was the first to scale down the tree, with barely any help from James (Robert was a pretty skilled climber and said he didn’t need any help getting down).  Michael then followed behind and James helped him down to the ground, which left Laura clinging onto the trunk fearfully once she saw just how high they really were.

“C’mon Laura jump!” Robert called out to her.

“No!” she cried out fearfully.

“Laura it’s not that far, come on we gotta find ma and pa!” Michael urged her on.

“I can’t! I’m too scared!” James took his sword off his belt and went up the tree to go get Laura.  Once he was half way up the tree, he gave Laura a comforting smile and he told her.

“It’s okay Laura. Can you give me your hand?” he extended his hand out.  Laura looked down and clung onto the tree tighter, her small body trembling with fear.

“What—what if I fall?” she asked.

“I’ll give you a Prince’s vow that I will not let that happen. I’ll be right here to catch you.” her eyes went to look back down but James told her to not look down, only to look at him.

Soon Laura took James’ hand and slowly he brought her closer to him until she clung onto him like a bear to a tree.

“Now, just keep your arms wrapped around me okay, and you can close your eyes if you wish.” He told her as he wrapped an arm protectively around her.  Laura buried her face into James’ neck, his long blonde hair gently tickling her face with each movement he did as he carefully scaled down the tree.

Once they were safely on the ground, James comfortingly rubbed her back and told her that they were safely on the ground.  Laura opened her eyes when two familiar voices began calling out to them.

“Ma!”

“Pa!” soon coming through the trees were Adam and Veronica Sharpe.  James set Laura down and the three children raced up to their parents.  The Sharpe family reunited with each other through hugs and kisses as the kids all spoke at once about what had happened.

Adam looked up at the young Prince and said to him.

“Thank you my Prince.” He went to kneel but James stopped him and he said.

“There’s no need Adam Sharpe. Your children’s safety was my only concern. And I’m happy to see that they’ll be in their parent’s care once again.” Adam stared in awe at this young Prince but smiled and nodded.

“We—we wouldn’t know what we’d done had anything happened to any of our children.”

“Misses Gale!” Laura exclaimed.  James soon turned around and saw Gale starting to regain consciousness softly groaning in pain.  He quickly raced over to her and saw her eyes still covered with dirt and dust.

“Keep your eyes shut my love.” He adjusted her so that her head was on his lap.  He quickly took his water pincher and dumped some water onto his hand before spreading it over her eyes then using his sleeve to gently wipe the water and dust again. He repeated the process a few times before finally allowing Gale to open her eyes.

And once again he was caught off guard by the ethereal beauty of her brown eyes.  The two young lovers stared at each other, almost feeling like the world was slipping away and the only thing that mattered was just the two of them.

“James.” She whispered.

“Hey Gale.” He softly greeted with a smile.

“You—you managed to find me in time?”

“Like I told you when we first met. No matter where you are, I will always find you.” he brushed some of her hair away from her face.

“How romantic.” Praised little Laura softly.

“Sissy stuff!” Michael gagged.  It was then Adam and Veronica decided to take their leave and take the children back home (but really it was to give the young prince and their female heroine some privacy).

Once the Sharpe’s had left, James continued to gently stroke through Gale’s raven hair and stare into her eyes.  Gale soon reached up and took a strand of his long blonde hair in between her fingers and twirl it around.

“You took my dare?”

“Yeah I—I remember you saying long hair wasn’t easy to manage. And you were right.”

“But it—it looks good. Finally gives you the real Charming look.” He faintly chuckled and said.

“God did I miss hearing you call me that.”

“I thought you hated when I called you that the first time we met?”

“Being away from you all these years, made me come to appreciate all the things that we used to do. Every small thing you did or even called me. And—you calling me Charming has been the one thing I missed the most. Cause it makes me think back to the day we met.” Gale smiled solemnly.

James helped her stand up and he said.

“C’mon. Let’s find your brother and the rest of the gang.”

“Onto Sherwood forest then, Charming.”

“Lead the way then, Gale Hood.” She grinned and walked on ahead with James following right behind her.

Back at the tournament, with the battle that had broken out, the field was in disarray.  Tents had been knocked over, the royal stand completely destroyed, and the field completely emptied.  Prince John who was the only one still there exclaimed.

“HESTON! You’re never around when I need you!” that’s when he began to hear a drunken hum coming from the barrel of ale that he was hiding behind.  He pressed his ear to the barrel before uncorking it.

Soon drunkenly raising up was Heston.  He removed the muzzle from his python’s nose and that’s when Heston slurred.

“Oh! Oh hey th-there you are old man! PJ you won’t believe this…..but the archer boy is really Robin Hood.”

“Robin Hood…..” Prince John sneered softly.  Heston nodded proudly.  Prince John then exclaimed in anger as he took Heston out of the barrel and began to throttle him furiously.

#ben hardy x reader #ben hardy #ben hardy imagine #ben hardy imagines #ben hardy fanfic #ben hardy fanfiction #rami malek #rami malek x reader #rami malek imagine #rami malek imagines #rami malek x lucy boynton #joe mazzello #joe mazzello x reader #joe mazzello imagine #joe mazzello imagines #gwilym lee #gwilym lee x reader #gwilym lee imagine #gwilym lee imagines #borhap cast #borhap cast x reader #borhap cast imagine #borhap cast imagines #borhap cast fanfic #borhap cast fanfiction #taron egerton #richard madden #jamie bell #brian may #freddie mercury

[fanficshiddles]

His ray of sunshine, Chapter 35

‘You can’t stay in here, little one.’ Tom cooed softly as he crawled into the wardrobe next to Keira. He pulled her into him and hugged her.

‘I can.’ She squeaked.

‘No, you can’t. You know this. What is it about going outside that you’re so scared of? You can talk to me.’ He kept his voice soft for her, knowing she was feeling really vulnerable and scared.

‘I… I don’t know. I feel stupid. But it’s just the thought of going outside…’ She swallowed hard and looked down, feeling nervous just at the mere thought of it. ‘It just scares me, I don’t know why.’

Tom sighed softly and cupped the back of her head, holding her into him. ‘You went through a lot, darling. It’s natural to be feeling effects from it in one way or another. But you know that Ben and David cannot hurt you anymore, right?’

‘He… He’s still out there, though. David.’ She said, her lower lip quivering a bit as she spoke.

The penny dropped for Tom. She was scared because David still hadn’t been found. ‘So, you’re worried that he will come back?’

She nodded and clutched at his shirt for comfort.

‘I’ll be honest with you, Keira. He hasn’t been found yet, so there is a chance he might try and come here. But if he does, we’re all here and he will NOT get near you. He won’t even be able to step foot on our territory before we get him. I promise.’

Keira knew Tom was telling the truth, that they wouldn’t let David near her. But she still couldn’t get rid of the nerves that bubbled up inside of her whenever she thought about going outside…

-

Charlie was sitting down on the decking with Luke and Idris when a car pulled up. It was Michael, he’d collected the new omega that was joining them for a little while until another pack could be organised for her.

As soon as she stepped out of the car, Charlie raised his nose up and subtly sniffed the air. He groaned. She smelled like roses and lavender bundled into one lush smell.

Idris and Luke shared a look with one another when Charlie stood up rather abruptly and made his way over towards where Michael was with the omega.

Even though Charlie couldn’t see, per say. He knew she was beautiful. He could feel it radiating off of her. He could also sense she was troubled, too. But that was no wonder after what she had been through. She had a lucky escape compared to the others, she was just kidnapped by David, he hadn’t managed to do anything to her.

‘Ah, Charlie. This is Mia. Mia, this is Charlie.’ Michael introduced them. He had told her about the pack, so Mia knew that Charlie was blind but Michael had told her to act like normal around him.

She was pleasantly surprised to see him going about like normal, as if he could see. And she felt like she had suddenly been punched in the gut, too. A weird kind of tugging inside of her towards him… she couldn’t take her eyes off him. He was very handsome.

Michael could sense the instant connection between the two of them and smiled.

‘Uh, Charlie… Would you mind showing Mia to her cabin? I need to go and let Tom know we’re back.’ Michael suggested.

‘Of course.’ Charlie nodded, with the biggest smile on his face that Michael had ever seen from him.

Charlie took her suitcase and guided her towards the cabin.

Michael had the biggest grin on his face when he went to Tom’s and knocked. Tom answered and raised an eyebrow at him.

‘What’s with the big Cheshire cat grin?’

‘I think we may have a new member of the pack.’ Michael said.

‘Explain?’ Tom leaned against the doorframe and folded his arms over his chest.

‘Mia and Charlie seem to have an instant connection there. He’s showing her to the cabin now.’ Michael tipped his head in their direction.

‘Oh have they now? That is good news indeed, at least something nice has come out of this shitstorm.’ Tom sighed.

‘It’s always nice when there is a silver lining.’ Michael nodded. ‘How is she doing?’

‘Not good.’ Tom looked over his shoulder, he knew Keira was still hiding in the wardrobe. But he stepped outside anyway and shut the door behind him just in case she overheard them speaking about her. ‘She’s been hiding in the wardrobe since yesterday now. I don’t know what to do, I can’t get her to come out.’

‘Would it help if David was caught?’ Michael asked as he sat down on the bench.

‘It might help a little. But I think it’s going to be difficult to get her back to normal.’ Tom sighed and sat down with him, holding his head in his hands.

‘Is there anything I can do?’ Michael asked.

‘Not at the moment, I don’t think. Just keep an eye on the pack like you’ve been doing. I really appreciate it.’

‘No worries. Anything I can do, mate, just ask.’ Michael said and stood up, then made his way down the steps.

‘Actually. If you could send Charlie over when he’s finished wooing the new omega, Keira might respond to him.’ Tom said.

‘Sure thing.’ Michael smiled and nodded.

-

Later in the day, Charlie went over to Tom’s. When he went inside, Tom sniffed at him.

‘Is that an omega I smell on you?’

‘Perhaps… I’ve been spending time with Mia. She’s lovely.’ Charlie beamed happily.

‘I’m happy for you, mate. Truly.’ Tom patted his shoulder. ‘Have you made a move on her or anything yet?’

‘No not yet. She’s only just arrived. I want her to know about my past first, who I am. We talked quite a bit though, I think she feels the connection too. But I am trying not to get my hopes up.’

‘Well, tell that to your face.’ Tom teased.

‘How is Keira?’

‘Did Michael fill you in?’ Tom asked.

‘Yeah. Do you think I can help?’

‘Well, she trusts you. She loves you and you both seem to have a connection too. I know you suffered from post-traumatic stress, I fear this is something similar.’ Tom sighed.

‘I’ll try and speak to her, but not making any promises.’ Charlie said.

Tom led Charlie through to the bedroom. It was taking everything he had inside of him to not snarl at the other Alpha and chuck him out of the room, even though he was the one that invited him in. Alphas entering another Alphas bedroom was unheard of, especially when there was a vulnerable omega involved. Tom knew that Charlie was not a threat, but his instincts were still screaming at him to protect his omega and attack. It was difficult to keep himself from doing so, and Charlie knew this so treaded very carefully.

‘Hey Keira.’ Charlie said softly and crouched down slowly outside the wardrobe. He wasn’t going to dare trying to go in next to her, or he knew that Tom would likely tear his throat out on instinct.

Keira gave him a half-smile. ‘Hi.’ She said quietly.

Tom stood at the side, supervising. He was biting his thumb while he watched.

‘This is a nice den you’ve made, are you comfy?’

Keira nodded and held the pillow she was holding against her front tighter.

‘Do you mind if I sit here?’ Charlie asked.

She shook her head, so Charlie sat down on the floor. He crossed his legs and got comfortable, he knew this might take a while.

‘You know, after I was attacked when I was younger and lost my sight, it took a long time before I felt able to go outside again too. I was scared I would be attacked again. But over time, I built myself up so I was able to fight back. And with the help of a friend, I took it in baby steps and got myself going again. I know you’re scared about David coming back, but with all of us around you he won’t be hurting you again… and judging from the wound on his arm, I’d say you can do a pretty damn good job at protecting yourself.’ Charlie grinned when he saw her smile a little. ‘I bet he tasted disgusting though.’ Charlie made a face, making her laugh a little. But then she groaned because it still hurt a bit to laugh.

‘Sorry. Tom did tell me not to make you laugh… Though I am struggling not to laugh myself right now, because he looks like a ticking time bomb out here.’ Charlie said goofily as he nodded his head in Tom’s direction.

Tom shook his head and chuckled lightly, but Charlie wasn’t wrong. Keira was intrigued a bit, so she did crawl forward and peeped her head around, to see Tom. She could smell strong pheromones radiating off him and his jaw was clenched hard. He really did look like he was going to explode at having another Alpha in his bedroom.

‘Maybe we could go and talk in the living room? We wouldn’t want Tom to actually explode on us, that would cause a bit of a mess, wouldn’t it?’ Charlie grinned.

‘I… I guess that would be ok.’ Keira said quietly and nodded.

Tom felt relief flood through him when Charlie got up and Keira crawled out from the wardrobe. Charlie made his way through to the living room and Tom put his hand out towards Keira. She took it and he wrapped his fingers around her smaller hand, giving her a squeeze to let her know she was ok.

The three of them went into the living room and sat down. Tom visibly relaxed now they were out of the bedroom, and for the fact Keira was out of the wardrobe.

‘I smell an omega on you?’ Keira queried Charlie, who sat on the chair opposite her and Tom who were on the sofa.

‘Yes, that’s Mia. She’s new, just arrived this morning.’ Charlie smiled. ‘We seem to have hit it off rather well.’ He blushed slightly.

Keira’s smile grew larger, genuinely so happy for him. ‘That’s wonderful!’

The two Alphas filled her in about Mia. Part of her really wanted to go and meet her, but at the same time she still wasn’t sure about going outside.

Charlie stayed for a while and talked about his own ordeal when he had been attacked. It did make her feel better, knowing she wasn’t alone and that others had been through similar to what she was going through. It made her feel like she wasn’t being stupid.

When Charlie left, Tom noticed a significant difference in Keira. Though he knew they still had a long way to go before she would be back to her usual self.

#Tom Hiddleston #fan fiction #his ray of sunshine #omegaverse #alpha tom

[hamliet]

Su She and Jin ZiXun: Society vs. Connection

Or, the SuXun meta no one asked for. (I’m kidding about SuXun.)

In all seriousness, though, this meta will focus on Su She and Jin ZiXun, who, while they initially come across as semi-unlikable one-note antagonists necessary for plot connections and not much else, both actually have a ton of depth and thematic relevance. In particular, they are both used to explore the concepts of insecurity and arrogance through the lens of privilege, thereby exemplifying the novel’s central paradox: society is a corrupting disease, but human connection saves.

Jin ZiXun and Su She are extremely similar characters; in fact, I’d say the only difference in their characters is essentially that Jin ZiXun is privileged and Su She is not. The defining trait for both seems to be arrogance. Arrogance and insecurity are very common character traits in Mao Dao Zu Shi (in addition to these two, we also see them to various extents in Jin ZiXuan, Jin GuangYao, Wei WuXian, Wen Chao, Wen Ning, Jiang Cheng, and Jin Ling).

Jin ZiXun is privileged in ways Su She could never be. He looks down on everyone around him except for one notable exception (to be discussed further on). He’s said to consider Jin GuangYao, his cousin, as being of “lowly” background and it’s added that he “was ashamed to be of one clan [with Jin GuangYao].” When he acts arrogant, trying to force Lan XiChen and Lan WangJi to drink with him despite Jin GuangYao’s protests that they do not drink, he appeals to the idea of perceived scorn to manipulate them, thereby revealing what is most likely his true fear of insecurity:

“The Jin Sect and the Lan Sect have always been like one family. We’re all the same. My two Lan brothers, if you don’t drink this, you’d be looking down on me!”

It’s also notable how society responds to his evident insecurity manifesting as narcissistic arrogance:

On the side, a few of his followers all praised, “What a bold move!”“That’s just how an esteemed cultivator should act!”

However, Su She’s position in society is quite different, and therefore so is his manifestation of his insecurity.

The incident with the waterborne abyss is where we first meet him, and it tells us all we need to know about society in the novel and Su She’s position in it:

a disciple on the other side also drew out his sword, thrusting it toward a dark shadow which swiftly swam by in the water.

However, after his sword went underwater, it never came out again. He chanted the sword incantation for a few more times, but nothing was retrieved from the water. It was as if his sword had been devoured by the lake, disappearing without a trace. The disciple looked like he was a youth of similar age as Wei WuXian and the others. Without his sword, his face grew paler and paler. An older disciple beside him spoke, “Su She, right now, we still haven’t determined what the thing inside the water is. Why did you act on your own and make your sword go underwater?”

Su She seemed like he was somewhat flustered, but his expression was relatively calm, “I saw that Second Young Master also…”

He realized, before he even finished speaking, how unsuitable this sentence was. No matter what, the Bichen sword or Lan WangJi were not comparable with others… He glimpsed at Lan WangJi, but Lan WangJi didn’t look at him, and instead attentively observed the water…

This passage emphasizes Lan WangJi’s biggest flaw: his inability to say what he needs to say. It also indicates, again, what society thinks of Su She: they don’t notice him. Everything he does appears to be for naught. He’s just not important. (The comment about Su She being unable to compare to Lan WangJi also draws to mind Wen Ning’s ultimate rebuke of Jiang Cheng.)

The waterborne abyss is itself a symbol of society, as it is sent to the Gusu Lan Sect’s territory from the uppermost sect in society:

Although they knew where the waterborne abyss came from, everyone grew silent.

If it was done by people of the Wen Sect, then there would be no result no matter how hard they accused or criticized. First of all, the sect wouldn’t admit it, and second, there wouldn’t be any compensation either.

The abyss, or society, eats up Su She’s accomplishments (and sword) and tries to swallow Su She in the end. Wei WuXian risks his life to save Su She, and then Jiang Cheng observes them, but cannot help (foreshadowing what will later happen when Wei WuXian dies: Su She will unknowingly lead to Wei WuXian’s destruction, Jiang Cheng will stand by and let it happen, and Lan WangJi will act). Lan WangJi pulls them all from the abyss, symbolizing how human connection is ultimately the answer for society’s poison.

So let’s talk Jin ZiXun and Su She’s connections next. Jin ZiXun has a one-sided personal beef with our protagonist Wei WuXian, while Su She has a one-sided rivalry with our other main character, Lan WangJi. And both Jin ZiXun and Su She have someone they esteem as more important than themselves, someone they cling to and use as a way to feel less insecure themselves. For Jin ZiXun, this person is his cousin Jin ZiXuan, who is repeatedly held up as a societal ideal. In fact, Jin ZiXun is introduced to us challenging Wei WuXian when he is unimpressed by Jin ZiXuan’s accomplishments, proclaiming, “If anyone here remains unconvinced, then feel free to try if you can shoot better than ZiXuan!”

For Su She, this person is Jin GuangYao, Jin ZiXuan’s brother who is on the outskirts of society because of his birth as the illegitimate son of a prostitute and a sect leader. Ironically, it’s Jin GuangYao’s desire for acceptance by anyone and everyone (but especially societally important people, as his father is) that leads to Su She and Jin GuangYao forming a bond--at the same moment Su She forms a rift with his privileged foil Jin ZiXun:

Someone spat, “Is this a road that someone like you can walk on? Who let you roam around!”

A young voice replied, “I’m sorry. I…”

Hearing this, Lan XiChen and Lan WangJi looked up at the same time. Beside the wall reliefs stood two men. The one who had just scolded someone was Jin ZiXun, with a few servants and cultivators following behind him. The one who had been scolded was a white-clothed young man. When the man saw Lan XiChen and Lan WangJi, his face immediately went pale. He couldn’t even continue with the things he wanted to say. As Jin ZiXun kept up his haughty guise, Jin GuangYao came to the rescue just in time.

He went to the white-clothed man, “The paths of Koi Tower are rather intricate. Young Master Su, it’s not your fault that you got lost. You can come with me.”

Seeing that he appeared, Jin ZiXun sneered and walked around them. The white-clothed man, however, hesitated, “You know me?”

Jin GuangYao smiled, “Of course I do. Why wouldn’t I? Haven’t we met each other once? Young Master Su, Su MinShan, your swordsmanship is quite good. I’ve been thinking ever since the hunt at Phoenix Mountain about what a pity it’d be if such a young talent didn’t come to our sect. In the end, though, he did come to our sect. I was over the moon with joy. This way, please?”

There were countless cultivators who sought assistance by going to the LanlingJin Sect like Su She did. He thought that not many people would recognize him, having never expected Jin GuangYao to be able to remember him so clearly, going as far as to praise him, after just one hasty encounter with him. Instantly, Su She seemed to be more relieved. He ceased to look at the Lan brothers and followed Jin GuangYao away, scared that they’d mock or point at him.

The sad thing is that the Lan brothers likely would not have mocked him. In the end, both Jin ZiXun and Su She die with these respective friends of theirs, as nothing more than mere footnotes to the Jin brothers’ deaths. However, Su She’s death, in particular, shows us another aspect to his relationship with Jin GuangYao: even on the outskirts of society, they had a genuine connection.

After the waterborne abyss, the next time the novel introduces Su She is when he tries to sacrifice MianMian to appease Wen Chao (a symbol of arrogance and societal acceptance if there ever was one):

However, one of the GusuLan Sect’s disciples on the side had been trembling as he listened to Wen Chao’s threatening words. He finally couldn’t hold it any longer as he rushed over, grabbing MianMian, and prepared to tie her up. Lan WangJi’s brows stiffened. He immediately struck the disciple to the side.

Although he didn’t say anything, the way he looked at the disciple was more than imposing. What such a look meant was clear to everyone—it truly is a shame that the GusuLan Sect has taught a disciple like you!

The disciple’s shoulders quivered as he backed off slowly, unable to face the others’ eyes.

It is however an interesting reversal that Su She dies in a manner that redeems both of his earlier shames that drove him out of the Lan Sect. He dies sacrificing himself to save Jin GuangYao, rather than trying to sacrifice someone else, and he dies sacrificing his sword instead of losing it:

Su She dodged to the side with force. With the tip of his foot he picked up the sword that had fallen to the ground and conjured up all of his spiritual energy in one thrust at Nie MingJue’s heart. Perhaps because of the dire situation, the attack was abnormally swift and ruthless. Brimming with spiritual energy, the blade glowed brightly, enveloped by swirling radiance. It was so much better than all of the previous seemingly-elegant attacks that even Wei WuXian wanted to praise its excellence….

However, the sword had been infused with so much spiritual energy, due to Su She’s sudden explosion, that it could no longer withstand it. Halfway through the lunge, it broke into pieces with a crack.

On the other hand, Nie MingJue’s punch landed right in the center of Su She’s chest. Su She’s splendor left as quickly as it came. He couldn’t even spit out a mouthful of blood or say a few last words, no matter with dignity or cruelty, before the life in his eyes went out.

The symbolism of the sword is twofold: firstly, all the powers in the world can’t actually accomplish anything more than having little power can. The curse of insecurity originates with himself, which is why the rebound curse leaves him with holes on his chest.

Jin ZiXun’s death is also symbolic: he is cursed by Insecurity Embodied in Su She, cursed with the Curse of a Hundred Holes, which leaves holes on his body, symbolizing how he feels incomplete, and also marking him as a pariah from society.

Additionally, he allows this curse to separate him from the person he’s closest with, Jin ZiXuan:

“Why didn’t you tell me at all that you were cursed with Hundred Holes and instead came to do this without saying anything?!”

The fact that Jin ZiXun had been cursed with Hundred Holes was indeed an unspeakable matter. First of all, he had both a good appearance and a good physique. He’d always thought of himself as handsome and couldn’t bear for others to know that he was under such an unsightly, repulsive curse. Second of all, to have been cursed meant that his level of cultivation wasn’t high enough, since his spiritual energy was too weak to be able to hold against the curse.

In contrast, Su She’s death involves him becoming closer with someone he has a genuine connection with, because by helping Jin GuangYao, he knows that he’s going against society. As Wei WuXian says, the entire world is coming for Jin GuangYao, yet Su She still helps him.

To return to the sacrificial nature of Su She’s death, it’s also hard not to compare it with a sacrifice that happens earlier the same scene (and kind of the same chapter): Wen Ning’s sacrifice for Jiang Cheng, who is sacrificing himself for Jin Ling.

Jiang Cheng could only stuff Jin Ling behind him and unsheathe Sandu, which at the moment was unable to use spiritual energy, forcing himself to fend off the attack...

Wen Ning blocked himself before the wall, in front of the two of them. With both his hands, he grabbed Nie MingJue’s iron arm and slowly pulled it out of his chest, leaving behind a large, hollow hole. There was no bleeding. Only a couple of black organ crumbs fell out.

Wei WuXian, “Wen Ning!!!”

While Jiang Cheng looked as though he could lose his mind right there. He stammered, “You? You?!”

Wen Ning actually a character who is important to both Jin ZiXun and Su She’s stories throughout the novel.

Like Su She, he is insecure and regarded as weak by others. Like Jin ZiXun, he is, however, a skilled archer. And of course, he is killed in one of Jin ZiXun’s camps, by Jin ZiXun’s guards after Jin ZiXun failed to capture a monster:

Wei WuXian looked at him, “Who are you?”

Jin ZiXun paused in surprise before fuming, “You don’t know who I am?!”

Wei WuXian mused, “Why should I know who you are?”

Jin ZiXun, “I don’t remember, which means I don’t remember. I’m not so idle as to go out of my way to remember a Wen-dog’s name.”

Wei WuXian, “Fine. I don’t mind explaining it in greater detail. You couldn’t catch the bat king and happened to run into a few of the Wen Sect’s disciples who were there to investigate the same thing. And so, you threatened them to carry spirit-attraction flags to be your bait. They didn’t dare do it. One person stepped out and tried to reason with you. That’s the Wen Ning I’m talking about. After some delay, the bat king got away. You beat up the Wen cultivators, took them away by force, and the group disappeared. Do I need to say any more details? They still haven’t returned yet. Apart from you, I don’t know who in the world I could possibly ask.”

Jin ZiXun, “Wei WuXian, what do you mean? You came for him? You aren’t standing up for a Wen-dog, are you?”

And Wen Ning later kills both Jin ZiXuan and Jin ZiXun--however, it was not Wen Ning’s fault, but Wei WuXian’s. By trying to become a part of society, by searching for a place in it, you become a monster and a tool, even if not always as literally as it is with Wen Ning. Jin ZiXun is being manipulated by Jin GuangYao to kill Wei WuXian. In the end, Wen Ning uses his genuine connection with Wei WuXian to sacrifice his body to save Jin Ling and Jiang Cheng--the very same Jiang Cheng he just told this:

Sect Leader Jiang—you, so driven of a person, have been comparing yourself to others your whole life, but you have to know that you never should’ve been able to equal [Wei WuXian]!

Essentially, Wen Ning, having been someone at first looked down on for not being strong enough, and then shamed for being a Wen, and then regarded as a dangerous weapon, is telling Jiang Cheng that despite his not being the best in everything, despite how people might look down on him, you are still worth living. 

Wen Ning is able to live, because he’s already dead. But Su She does not, and in true MXTX fashion in which self-sacrifice is often viewed as a form of self-harm, Su She’s sacrifice is ultimately futile. Jin GuangYao is stabbed killed later that very chapter. 

However, it is fitting that this theme which has continued throughout the novel reaches its conclusion with Jin GuangYao. If there’s one character who embodies what it’s like to scrabble for society’s approval as a remedy for insecurity and self-loathing, it’s Jin GuangYao. As this incident shows:

On the other hand, Jin GuangShan, standing with a blank face where his seat was, finally lost his temper and kicked over the table in front of him. All of the gold dishes and silver platters rolled down the stairs.

Seeing his discomposure, Jin GuangYao wanted to ease the situation, starting, “Fa-”

Before he could finish, Jin GuangShan had already left. Jin ZiXun also felt that by giving in, he lost face in front of everyone. Out of both anger and hatred, he wanted to leave as well.

Jin GuangYao hurried, “ZiXun!”

Jin ZiXun was at the peak of his anger. Without a second thought, he flung away the cup of liquor that was turned down, directly towards Jin GuangYao’s chest. A splash of liquor immediately sprouted on top of the Sparks Amidst Snow blooming passionately over the white robes. It was more than embarrassing, but because of how chaotic the state of the hall was, nobody really minded the act of great misconduct.

Lan XiChen was the only one who exclaimed, “Brother!”

Jin GuangYao, “I’m fine, I’m fine. Brother, please be seated.”

It was unsuitable for Lan XiChen to comment on Jin ZiXun, so he took out a snow-colored handkerchief and passed it to him, “Go retire and change your clothes.”

Jin GuangYao took the handkerchief, wiping away as he forced a smile, “I can’t leave, can I?”

He was the only one left to clean up the mess. How could he leave the scene? He reassured the crowd as he ranted, completely exhausted, “Young Master Wei really is too impulsive. How could he speak in such a way in front of so many sects?”

Lan WangJi spoke coldly, “Was he wrong?”

Jin GuangYao paused almost unnoticeably. He immediately laughed, “Haha. Yes, he’s right. But it’s because he’s right that he can’t say it in front of them, correct?”

Here he is ignored by his father, insulted and humiliated publicly by his cousin, and left to clean the mess up. He refuses to retire and clean himself up like Lan XiChen asks him to do (a call-back to Lan WangJi asking Wei WuXian to come back to the Cloud Recesses with him). He knows that he’s saying something wrong, he knows that Wei WuXian is morally right, he knows society is a trap that eschews truth, but he cannot bring himself to pull away from it for the sake of seeking acceptance from his father, acceptance which will never come.

And in the end, Jin GuangYao too realizes that his need for societal acceptance led nowhere, that it wasn’t really what he wanted:

“Lan XiChen! In this life, I’ve lied countless times, killed countless times. Like you said, I killed my father, my brother, my wife, my son, my teacher, my friend—of all the evil in the world, what haven’t I done?!”

He took in a breath, rasping, “But I’ve never even thought of harming you!”

Lan XiChen was astonished.

Jin GuangYao panted harder, gripping the word as he spoke through clenched teeth, “… Back then, when the Cloud Recesses was burned down and you fled outside, who was the one that saved you from all the danger? And when the GusuLan Sect was rebuilding the Cloud Recesses, who was the one that helped with everything he had? In all these years, when have I ever cracked down on the GusuLan Sect, when have I responded with anything but support?! Apart from this time, when I’ve only temporarily staunched your spiritual powers, when have I ever wronged you or your sect? Why have I ever demanded gratitude?!”

Hearing these questions, Lan XiChen could no longer persuade himself to silence him again. Jin GuangYao, “Su MinShan could repay me in such a way just because I remembered his name back then. You, on the other hand, ZeWu-Jun, Sect Leader Lan, are as intolerant of me as Nie MingJue—you refuse to spare me even a single breath of life!”

In the end, however, Jin GuangYao uses his last gasp of strength to save Lan XiChen’s life, pushing him away from death. What mattered to Jin GuangYao in the very end was not societal approval (he’d lost that beyond belief), but his own desire to live, and even more than that, even when that was taken from him, his genuine human connection to Lan XiChen. Even if Lan XiChen is just like Nie MingJue in condemning him (he’s not, and Jin GuangYao has to know that), his connection is real. And that connection is valuable enough to him to throw off comfort in his moment of death to save the other.

It’s also fitting that Lan WangJi and Wei WuXian then leave the cultivational world together, pursuing their marriage and connection as cultivation partners away from society. However, they return in the end not because they want to be a part of that world, but because they have connections to people who need them: Lan SiZhui, Jin Ling, Jiang Cheng, and Lan XiChen.

#mdzs #mdzs meta #grandmaster of demonic cultivation #founder of diabolism #the untamed #cql #chen qing ling #su she #jin zixun #jin zixuan #jin guangyao #lan xichen #wangxian #wei wuxian #jiang cheng #wen ning #lan wangji #xiyao #mxtx meta

[justjessame]

Babysitting Butcher 58

Work wasn’t the calm and easy setting that everyone who popped their heads in our doorway was used to come Monday morning.  A heavy layer of tension coated everything and it made it difficult to breathe, so I propped the door open - another warning sign that all was not right in the world of Dr. Taylor and William Butcher.  

“This is new,” MM’s eyebrow was raised so high on his forehead that I might have made mention of it if I hadn’t seen a similar expression on nearly every fucking face that graced my presence so far on the worse Monday of my life - and yes, that DID include every Monday that I had Homelander’s self-destruct DNA code inside of me.  He shot a look Billy’s way and I steadfastly pretended I didn’t notice.  “So - uh, I’ve been working on Jane Kaboom.”  I nodded and he took the chair in front of my desk.  “Here’s what I find more odd than normal about Vought’s file on her -”

I listened while MM told me how he compared the file I sent him of the supe I’d aligned with our anonymous head buster versus some random files he’d requested as a sample group.  He explained that with our unknown element - her file was laid out differently, missing parts that didn’t make a hell of a lot of sense to have absent, while the other files were filled to the brim with extra shit that no one needed.  

“Are you saying Vought knows precisely who she is and is hiding her on purpose?”  I tried to NOT sound as sarcastically unsurprised as I was feeling, but honestly, at this point I felt more Billy-like than ever before.  “Why would they do it though?”  She’d killed people on national television in the middle of a fucking hearing on why supes should or shouldn’t be able to step into armed conflict.  

“To cover their tracks, of course,” Billy snarled and I fought to NOT look at him.  “This is VOUGHT we’re talkin’ about, Ronnie,” my eyes landed on my red stapler and I contemplated how badly it would really damage his oversized, condescending head if I DID throw it at him?  “Never do anything without a fucking motive for hiding their own shit stains.”  

I was maintaining careful eye contact with my computer screen and MM had enough of it.  “OK, that’s it.  What’s going on?”  Neither of us said anything.  “Seriously, what the hell is going on between you two?”  

“Nothing you need to worry about,” Billy’s voice was quiet, clearly trying to shrug off MM’s nosiness.  

“Yeah, not buying it.”  MM didn’t sound like he was leaving anytime soon.  “Door is wide open.  Ronnie isn’t looking at you at all.  Neither of you seem like you particularly want to be anywhere near the other -”  I heard the chair he was sitting in make a noise I knew meant he was settling in and getting comfortable.  “Spill.”  

“I’m the psychologist, Marvin, not you.” I murmured, opening up my email and praying there was ANYTHING to focus on, but like the traitor that I knew my job could be there wasn’t a damn thing there.  

He snorted and tapped my desk to get my attention.  Looking up, I saw him shaking his head at me.  “Yeah, you are, but you’re also pissed off at his stupid ass and it’s making you both miserable.”  He nodded toward Billy’s side of the office.  “Let’s talk it out, Doc.”  The reminder of Billy calling me that punched me in the solar plexus and I felt it all the way to my knees.  “Saw that flinch, Ronnie, so come on -”

I wanted to argue with him, but he was right.  Maybe what Billy and I really needed was a mediator.  Someone who would sit between us and let us hash it out without picking a side - but was MM really that person?  Looking into his face, I knew that for once beggars couldn’t be choosers.  

“Fine.”  I sighed.  “Let’s talk.”  

MM was looking at both of us, after the door had been shut and we both had unleashed hell upon him from BOTH sides about what we’d let come to a head during our visit with Ryan, like he REALLY wished he hadn’t asked and then offered to mediate.  Yeah, buddy, I thought that’ll teach you.  

“What you’re saying,” he was looking at me, because honestly I’d like to think I was the one that made the most fucking sense here.  “Is that Ryan, a ten year old kid, asked some freaky fucking scientists from OUR fucked up government to test some inhibitor chips on him AND no one contacted ANY fucking adults to check and see if that was OK?”  I nodded and was vindicated when he looked as disgusted and sickened by the mere thought of it as I was.  “And you,” he looked at Billy, “think this is somehow a GOOD thing, because it might give us a way to FIX the supe issue?”  I glanced at Billy and saw him give the curtest of curt nods I’ve ever witnessed in my life.  

I waited for him to - I don’t know, grant me some kind of “YAY you’re the winner in this round of coupledom fighting!  Now Billy has to cuddle you and stop being an annoying ass.” certificate.  

“I think the bigger issue here is what are the two of you going to do about Ryan in general?”  I stared at him, wondering what the fuck he meant.  “Ryan -” he looked between me and Billy.  “You know the TEN YEAR OLD boy that is willing to be a fucking science experiment on the off-chance some asshole who he shares a last name with will spend time with him?”  I blinked at him.  “DOCTOR Taylor, surely you get what I’m talking about -”  Seeing that clearly I didn’t, he shook his head.  “Ryan Butcher lost his entire fucking life when Becca died -” Billy stared to speak, but MM held up his hand and stopped him.  “I don’t care how she died right now, Butcher.  Ryan is a kid, he didn’t know how to control his powers and he was lost and alone.  And, being alone and lost, he did what he THOUGHT was right.  He got rid of, or at least stamped down the shit that made him alone - his powers - on the chance that some asshole might come back and make him less alone.”  He was looking between us again and I realized he was right and I had known it and even thought about it, but I’d focused on stupid shit when the rage at Billy hit me.  “So, I’ll ask you two again - what are you two going to do about RYAN?”  

For the first time in what felt like days, but was honestly only hours, Billy and I made eye contact.  And I think we both felt exactly like we should feel - like complete and utter shits.  Because MM was right, Ryan truly was the most important part in all of this - not the argument about what kind of mom Becca was, or why he allowed the inhibitors to be implanted, or even if the inhibitors should be a THING - no, the most important thing should be how to make Ryan’s life BETTER, because honestly, if we didn’t - chips or no chips - I’d hate for Ryan to end up with the same issues his sperm donor grew up showcasing. 

#billy butcher x ofc #the boys #alternate universe #FLUFF AND SMUT

[realityhelixcreates]

Lasabrjotr Chapter 68: The Huldra Stone

Chapters: 68/?

Fandom: Thor (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe

Rating: Mature Warnings:

Relationships: Loki x Reader (There We Go)

Characters: Loki (Marvel), Thor (Marvel)

Additional Tags: Post-Endgame: Best Possible Ending (Canon-Divergent), Loki Has A Bad Time, 

Summary:  Dancing, anxiety, compassion, mercy, the Huldra Stone

It wasn't that you were trying to avoid Loki, it was just that circumstances kept pulling you apart. He'd been called upon early in the morning, just after you had woken up, and so breakfast and bathing had been separate. Saldis had come by to see if you needed help dressing; you hadn't for a while now, but with your arm still so tender, you had welcomed the help.

She had acted almost in awe, and you quickly found out that the story of you, standing up to a Frost Giant in defense of Asgardian children had flown from one end of the city to the other with the speed of a sonic boom.

People in the halls inclined their heads to you, moved out of your path. Loki was somewhere in the palace complex, dealing with royal duties, and you walked the halls alone now. All the way back to the library, cleaned up now, and with a makeshift door, until a new one could be obtained.

The broken table was gone, and the shelves righted, though there were far fewer people here than usual. You headed to one of the smaller side rooms, where Saga and Lofn were waiting.

“The heroine arrives.” Lofn said without looking up from the harp she was tuning.

“So she has.” Saga said. “And still on time too. How is your arm?”

“Sensitive.” You said. “But it's not getting any worse. The medicine worked really well.”

“Good, because we're going over traditional Buridag music and dances today.”

Lofn strummed her strings.

And you danced.

                                                                           *****

Loki was moping again. He wasn't even trying to hide it, and though the human ambassadors of Iceland and the human encampments didn't seem to notice, Thor certainly did. He had seen this before, more often after the transplant of Asgard, but also all throughout their lives. The encounter with the Frost Giant was clearly taking an emotional toll on him. Like Thor, he probably thought that he would never cross paths with another Frost Giant again, but the Norns liked to tease sometimes.

With their Icelandic representatives, they had to discuss the disposal of a Frost Giant corpse. The humans were understandably upset at the discovery of unknown alien invaders, left over from a thousand year old war, hidden beneath their feet.

Thor did what he could to reassure them; that evidence gathered from the giants resting site indicated that there were no armies hidden away in the ice. In fact. Heimdall's keen gaze had detected only two more in the ice tunnels, in the entire world, actually.

This did not have the calming effect he had hoped.

“Two! Two hrimthurs still here?” One exclaimed. “One was enough to cause havoc in your city! What chance do we have, if they get out?”

“It was only because we were unprepared. Who would have expected such a thing to happen? However, the two still trapped in the ice are unlikely to cause us problems.” Thor explained. “They are both female, and one seems to be a child.”

He didn't mention the ferocious queen Skadi, who ruled Jotunheim before Laufey took the throne, nor the fact that Loki was child-sized, for a Frost Giant. Heimdall had only given sparse details: Women, no armor, a child. He'd seemed somewhat perturbed by it, and the way he'd looked at Loki had Thor curious. Loki hadn't seemed to notice.

Eventually they agreed to inter the unnamed Frost Giant in a stone barrow on Ok, the site of the destroyed Okjokull glacier. It would be another trip across the country, but Thor was insistent that the giant have a proper place. He hadn't known about the glacier, but the humans seemed to think it would be fitting, and to Thor's surprise, Loki pulled himself into the moment enough to agree.

Another plan to make for an already busy future. It was a good thing that Thor hated to be bored.

With the Trolerkaerhalla representatives he discussed the rules of the upcoming Buridag festivities; what was allowed, what was not, with emphatic warnings not to accept any Asgardian drinks whatsoever.

“Please. Burying so many people before the holiday is already an ill omen, do not fill our time of creation with more funerals.”

They agreed, but Thor decided to have all medics at the ready anyway. Human curiosity was notorious, and it was too likely someone might filch a drink, or that an Asgardian might think it funny to offer one.

After the meeting, he pulled Loki aside.

“You're not here.” He said. “We're going to need you in these next few weeks. You need to be here.”

“I know, I know.” Loki said, but his eyes held that wild and mournful quality Thor had grown to recognize.

“Do you need a few days?”

“It's just..._____ hasn't spoken to me all day, and Buridag is rushing up, and now there's funerals we have to see to. And Frost Giants. There's Frost Giants now, and we're going to dig them out, aren't we? There's a child. Thor, what are we going to do with a Frost giant child?”

“I...I don't know. Raise her?”

Loki grabbed him by the cross straps of his tunic, all mournfulness gone from his features, leaving only the wild.

Thor froze for a second, then grasped Loki's bracers and carefully pried him off.

“Ah.” He said. “Not like that. The woman that's with her must be her mother, or her caretaker. We aren't going to separate them, but we will have to accommodate them somehow. An extra tall apartment, perhaps? Mittens?”

“You cannot joke about this!” Loki exclaimed.

“I'm not. Obviously, we cannot just set them loose on this world. The humans are still coming to terms with us, and we look so similar to them. These Jotnar would seem so different, that there would be no safe place for them to go. Loki...”

His brother had stepped away and was pacing in short bursts.

“Loki. Loki.” Thor reached out to stop his pacing, and drew him into an embrace. “Find your center. You are beginning to spiral. I know. I understand, I do. But this is a good opportunity, isn't it? We can do something to help. I know you must be thinking about it.”

“But what if I mess it up?” Loki whimpered. Thor was glad they were alone here; Loki would have likely killed anyone who heard him like this. “What if I do it all wrong, and she ends up like me?”

“The child?” Thor asked. “Well...she's not an infant, so she probably has some idea of who she is. The circumstances are different here, Loki. And who said it had to be you, alone?”

“No one. But I know it would end up that way. Who of Asgard would want to care for Frost Giants?”

“Even among the giant's most implacable enemies were those who recognized the innocence of a child.”

Loki threw off Thor's arms. “Don't you try to defend him now-!”

“I was talking about Mother.”

“Oh.” Loki grew calm again. “There will never be another like her. I'm the only choice. I'm the only one who's...like them.”

“They're people, Loki, just like the humans. You've discovered a fondness for at least a few of them!”

“Humans aren't ten feet tall and deadly to the touch.” Loki griped. “The woman will try to kill us. She will be too frightened and desperate not to. I do not wish to be involved with that.”

“Then use that silver tongue, and prevent a tragedy.”

Loki breathed in deeply; a familiar sound of annoyance. “Thor...”

“Oh! That reminds me, there is something you should look at.” Thor said, before Loki could unleash his tirade. “Come with me. We probably shouldn't discuss this here.”

He led Loki back to his quarters, half-finished murals showing the barest hints of movement.

He retrieved the soldier's ancient diary, and handed it over. “I haven't read it all the way through. I realized it wasn't for me. Not before you.”

Loki took the book with cautious curiosity and opened it at Thor's huge desk.

                                                                        *****

I have been scouting this world for some years now. Midgard is vast, that much is very true, but other notes from our records are either wrong, or outdated. The ice that was said to cover great stretches of the globe is simply not there. Perhaps it was once; there is evidence for it. But now, the snows are seasonal, the years short, compared to ours. Permanent ice is found in only a few places. The huge beasts written of in the records are gone. And worse; a small beast has spread far and wide, changing the landscape and hunting the few large animals that are left.

The have not proven hard to kill, but they are very tenacious, and can organize quickly in large numbers.

Perhaps our king would be amenable to a change in plans?

                                                                        *****

Oh, plans were changed, certainly, but I cannot wholeheartedly agree with their new course. Great Laufey has chosen the route of total eradication. There are so many of these Midgardians that I think it impossible to totally wipe them out.

But Great Laufey has completely committed. He has brought every warrior. He has brought the Queen, even though she is with child. He has even brought the Casket! To bring the very spirit of our world to an entirely different realm seems very dangerous. Though, if it works it will change this world into one like our own, only with more space and resources. We are desperately low on both. Even though I am apprehensive of Great Laufey's decisions, I understand.

                                                                         *****

The Princess-In-Waiting is here, along with her caretaker. They remain with the Queen, and attend to her needs. I too, am with the Queen. It seems Great Laufey has caught wind of my thoughts on this invasion, and is displeased with me. He has removed me from battle, and tied me to the women. Other civilians will be coming soon. But the Midgardians still remain.

                                                                      *****

Asgard has come. We should have known. Odin abandoned this place long ago, but the Midgardians still pray, and they have finally decided to answer.

This bodes very ill.

                                                                          *****

All omens point to failure. All tragedy has occurred. The Queen's child is wrong. He will not survive. The Queen is beside herself with grief; Great Laufey is mad with it. The Princess-In-Waiting mourns her lost husband, lost before his first breath. The armies are routed; Great Laufey cannot lead them. Not like this.

The Queen had withdrawn to Jotunheim, to perform the most tragic of duties. She will offer the infant back to the stars, that he might return someday, in a form that will be able to live and grow tall and strong. But child the size of a Midgardian spawn would never live through a Jotunheim winter, and the Queen is far too kind a soul to put him through the heinous suffering of trying.

                                                                            *****

Stars receive our lost prince, and treat him kindly. Send him back to save us, for Great Laufey has doomed us all. The armies are gone. Laufey is gone. Asgard has chased everyone back home. The Casket is gone; I can no longer feel its song in the ice.

We received word that the Queen has passed to the stars. May she return to us in safer times. The Princess-In-Waiting and her caretaker are here with me. We are abandoned. We are trapped here, on this warming world.

May the stars receive us.

                                                                            *****

Tears streamed down Loki's face, as he read on and on. Thor had both his meaty hands on his shoulders, a powerful support that was the only thing keeping Loki from crumpling into a little heap on the floor.

“They wanted me.” It came out as a strangled sob. “They planned for me. None of them ever knew what I was; they all died without knowing. Laufey lost that war because of me. They thought I would return to save them! I returned, all right, but...Norns, what have I done? Will I always leave people in mourning?”

Wherever you go, there is war, ruin, and death!

They wanted him. They had staked hopes on him, on what should have been the joyous occasion of his birth. They mourned him, he could see it in the raised lines of thick ink, how they wavered. A soldier who couldn't protect his people. A mother who hadn't named him. A little girl he was supposed to love.

He had betrayed them all.

“What if that's what the Norns have decreed for me? My very birth brought death. I was supposed to die.”

“No, no. Loki, a child is at fault for nothing. Laufey chose to wage his war like that, and he chose to fight Asgard when he didn't have to. If he hadn't started slaughtering humans, he might even have succeeded in colonizing this world. But he didn't chose peace. That is not your fault. Odin taking the Casket was not your fault. The lies they told us were not your fault. What can a baby do?”

Thor squeezed his shoulders.

“You should take some time. Go see if _____ is ready for lunch.”

Loki closed the book. “I'm not sure she wants to see me. She didn't talk to me at all this morning.”

“Well, you did yell at her.”

His shoulders sagged. “I know. I wanted to apologize.”

“Then go apologize!” Thor shoved him towards the door.

                                                                                                                                                                  *****

You didn't know what you had really expected from traditional Asgardian court dances, but that amount of leaping hadn't been it. Big, graceful ballroom dancing, sure, and there was some of that: so close to a waltz, but not quite. Line dances that were like something you imagined your medieval ancestors might have done. And just so much leaping. Even at leisure, it seemed Asgardians had to show off their athleticism. You didn't know if you would have the energy to keep up.

Especially after all of the elaborate ceremonies you would have to perform in.

Normal Burigag celebrations did consist of a lot of dancing, and co-ordinated chants of ancient decrees all the way from Allfather Buri's time. They were in a form of the Asgardian language that was archaic even to them, and you didn't understand a word of it. Saga had finally just written the words out phonetically for you to pronounce, even though you didn't really know what they meant. You would just have to memorize the sounds they made.  

As a royal Seidkona, you would have a special drum to play, and you were learning how to do that too. You would never be a professional drummer, but you could hold the beats they gave you. There were songs you had to sing, along with the other Seidkonas of Asgard, and a dance you would have to perform with them, and your drum.

And then there were the other things; the things that seemed very old, and very magical, and more than a little worrisome to you.

There was a Buridag sacrifice, of a live ox, and you were not excited about that. You wouldn't be allowed to leave while this was happening; it was Thor and Loki's responsibility to make this sacrifice, and you would have to attend Loki. People would be looking at you, watching your actions and reactions.

They would sacrifice that ox, and you would have to endure, and then it would be cooked for the gathered crowd, along with all the other dishes. There would be toasts, and you would have to drink them all, but you had been promised that special wine, instead of Asgardian drinks, so you would survive.

Then there was the thing you were most uncomfortable with. As part of your Seidkona initiation, you would have to 'mix blood' with the person you were sworn to, and in this case, due to the station you would be stepping into, that included both Thor and Loki. All three of you would be cut, bleed into a bowl, that bowl would be spilled onto the ground...and that would mean something. Something profound. It would make you something different than what you were now. It would make you somehow more real.

There was something frightening about it, deep down. It felt like something cavemen might have done, something primal. If there was magic in it, it was beyond ancient.

There was so much to keep track of, and you were just hurtling towards it. You had to count on Loki to keep you steady and help you navigate.

“Well, I think that's enough for now.” Saga said, and you sagged in exhaustion. “It looks like it must be lunchtime, and a greater force than I has come to collect you.”

You turned to see Loki peeking in the doorway. You couldn't help but notice that though he was dressed in official finery, and held a picnic basket on one arm, he looked distressed.

“Lunch?” He asked, raising the basket.

“Go get.” Lofn whispered.

You trotted out the door, proud of the things you had learned so far that day, but wondering what the troubles might be.

“You seem worried.” You said, out in the hall.

“Yes, I suppose I am.” He said. “These new developments have got me...”

“Stressed?” You suggested. He sighed.

“Courtyard?”

“Actually, I was thinking the Huldra Stone.”

“Sounds good.”

The huldra's stone was a landmark now, set in front of what was going to become the Asgardian House of Justice, the building that was going to be communally constructed during the Buridag festivities. It was meant as a reminder that justice required mercy, thoughtfulness, and compassion. It wasn't enough to merely punish transgressors; sometimes you needed to put in the effort of fixing what had been broken.

There was a little patch of green surrounding the stone, and Loki set out your lunch on it, as you placed your hand on the stone and asked permission. The flowers here had faded much earlier than they would have back home, and you knew Autumn was in full swing, but this bit of green persisted.

“So.” You said, sitting next to him. The air was a little brisk, so you pulled his cape around yourself, and he made no move to stop you. “Still shook up over the giant?”

“Naturally.” He said wearily. “This is a terrible thing to happen so close to such an important holiday. It's the symbolism of the whole thing. Our new beginning, stained with tragedy from a generation ago. It's as if the past reached out to stab in spite at our future. I do not want my past coming back here.”

That last part was said so quietly, you weren't sure you'd caught it, but he continued on.

“Seven funerals to conduct. One almost all the way across the island. I'm afraid I have to drag you out onto the road again.”

“I can handle that.” You said.

“It's almost winter.” He countered. “You weathered summer travel fairly well, but this will be a much longer trip, and over rougher terrain. We will not always be on a road. There will be camping.”

“Yeah, but didn't we want to do that anyway?”

“Not until spring! And certainly not with an entire entourage, and most certainly not for a Frost Giant's funeral!”

“Well, we've got to bury the poor guy. I mean, we can't just...leave him.”

“No. But I do worry for your safety in all this.”

You patted his knee. “I'll be okay. People live here year round, after all. We've figured out how to survive.”

He sighed again. “About the giant...”

“Yeah. I know. I mean, I understand. But you get that I couldn't really have done anything different, right?”

“Yes. As much as I might wish otherwise, you were put into a situation where you had no good options.” He grabbed a cookie and a pot of thick cream. Scooping some up, he handed it to you. “I should not have berated you so. I became too overbearing in my panic.”

You graciously accepted the creamed cookie for the peace offering that it was.

“And I get it. I know you weren't really mad at me, just freaked out by the whole situation. Don't make a habit of it though. I'm not really into getting chewed out like I was still a little kid.”

“No, of course not. However...” He took a bite of his own cookie. “There has been another development that has left me very stressed. We discovered this morning that there are two more.”

“Giants?” You asked. “Still in the ice?”

Loki nodded. “I'm afraid so.”

“Damn. Well. Are we just gonna leave them there?”

“You are not the first person to suggest that. But no. My brother has decided to dig them out.” Loki sighed again, a little dramatically, like Thor's decisions were mere antics that he had to clean up after. “Their bodies may be what's generating the ice down there, but Thor is convinced that this 'Climate Change' thing is putting their slumber at risk.”

“Oh.” You said. “Yeah, that's a thing. Geez, we never had to think about that before. Normally, the only things that thaw out of glaciers are like, woolly mammoths and stuff like that. Now we gotta wonder if we're gonna be thawing out ancient battalions of giant mega-soldiers.”

“Indeed. What's a 'woolly mammoth'? Nevermind, I shall look it up another time. It seems that these two are not likely to be soldiers, however. Both are female, and though that doesn't exactly count them out as warriors, the fact that one is a child makes it unlikely.”

“A child?” You asked in surprise. “Why would anyone bring a child to a war zone?”

“The war was merely the front of a colonizing effort. They intended to put down roots here. We know now how poorly that attempt went, but they were optimistic at the time. Or obstinate. There's evidence for both.”

This must be what had him so shaken up. Loki was very unambiguous in his dislike for Frost Giants, specifically. To have Asgard attacked by one, just when they were getting back on their feet must have been terrifying. To have two more waiting, two that he definitely could not attack out of hand without becoming a total monster, must be nerve wracking.

“What are we going to do?” You asked.

He leaned back against the Huldra Stone, perhaps contemplating justice or mercy.

“What else can we do? We are going to adopt them.”

#lasabrjotr #loki (marvel) #loki x reader #thor (marvel)

[a-ratt]

MLB Fanfic: Sins of the Past Chapter II: Miracu-class Reunion

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“Take a right here.”

“I know, Rose.”

Kamala glanced between her parents from the backseat of their car. They were on their way to Agreste Mansion, taking the quickest route there, according to their GPS.

“Oh, I can’t wait to see everyone again!”

Her maman was a glowing ball of energy, bouncing in her seat and beaming into the visor mirror as she applied her makeup. Meanwhile, her mom was a lot laxer, but she wore a small smile as she watched the road.

“It’ll be nice being together again.” Her mom reached a hand over and took her maman’s. “Just like old times.”

They went silent after that, so she turned her attention outside at the passing Parisian nightlife. Pedestrians strolled about beneath street lamps, moving from destination to destination. A majority gathered outside restaurants, others headed to a movie theater here or a convenience store there. She spied a few entering their homes from a late night out.

Soon, though, the stores and homes were replaced by a flat wall of mute stone.

"Alright, we're here."

She looked out the window at the wall beside them. There were no windows or homely features, just stone. Getting out of the car, she was even more confused as she looked down either way of the wall. While the right end turned at a corner, the left dropped off at a gate where a dark-skinned, fiery redheaded woman stood, tapping her foot and scrolling through her phone.

“Alya!”

Kamala looked up at her maman, then back at the woman. She’d perked up and turned her attention towards them. A smile grew on her face as she started over, stowing her phone away.

“Rose? Juleka?” She gave a laugh and threw out her arms wide. Both her parents practically skipped into her embrace, reciprocating with a tight hug. “Mon dieu, it’s been too long, girls!"

"Way too long," her mom said. "Where have you been?"

The woman, Alya, shrugged. "Here and there. Went over to America for some internships after lyceé, got a job in the UK for about a year, then I came back home to do some work here." She rubbed her chin, but then snapped her fingers. "Oh, and I visited Achu last month to write a piece on King Ali's reformation of the economy there. Speaking of which…."

Her eyes turned on her and Kamala froze like a deer in headlights.

"So, you must be Kamala." She held out a hand. "It's nice to meet you."

She hesitantly shook the hand. "Um… yeah."

Her grip was a little weak while the adult's was strong, but that didn't seem to ruin Alya's fun. Her smile only grew and she glanced at her parents. "She's cute.”

She flushed red and let go of her hand while her parents giggled.

Alya put her hands on her hips as she turned her attention back to them. "I didn't even know you could adopt out of country."

"Well. when you're friends with King Ali…." Her mom gave a smirk and her maman slapped her arm.

"Juleka!"

"What? He technically helped."

"But we filled out the paperwork legally!"

Kamala bounced her eyes between her parents, unsure of whether or not she should feel flattered or offended that they were talking about her right in front of her.

Thankfully, a loud buzz and the sound of metal bars clanging drew their attention back to the front gates.

"Sounds like it's time to party." Alya adjusted her purse strap and waved for them to follow. "Come on, girls. Let's party."

-

For an impromptu get-together, M. Agreste's class reunion looked and felt like more of a party.

The first thing she saw upon entering Agreste Mansion were a number of colorful streamers reaching out from a giant, crystal chandelier hanging from a vaulted ceiling. While its light sparkled and illuminating the foyer, it also lit up its bright extremities and brought life to an otherwise starkly white room.  A mixture of foldable and ornate, wooden tables were also set up around the place, all of them covered in patterned cloth. Each one hosted different platters or bowls of store-bought foods or homemade cuisine.

What really gave the foyer life, though, was the number of people mingling about. She spied a tall, built Asian man holding up his arms for two teenagers to hang off of. Next to him, an equally tall and built, redheaded woman laughed while cradling a baby. 

Close to them, a ginger-haired woman strode up to chat with Alya. They hugged and laughed, then walked over to a table to grab drinks. At the same time, her parents walked up to two men, one with bright, scarlet hair and the other with regular, black hair.

They chatted animatedly, leaving her to balance on her heels awkwardly before wandering over to a nearby table to grab a bite. A silver platter was set out, offering a pile of macarons. She glanced around briefly before reaching for one.

"Watch out!"

"Incoming!"

She squeaked as two bodies squished her in between them. The pile of macarons was utterly leveled by a pair of hands, leaving only a single one left. She picked it up and gave it a sad glance before watching the pile's destroyers run over to the Asian man.

"I got your dessert, dad!"

"No, I got your dessert!"

Both teens, a boy and a girl, shoved and growled at each other. The boy barked once, which prompted their dad to step in between them.

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! Jacque! Jacqueline! Calm it down you two!" He held up his hands. "Make nice or I'm taking your PlayStation!"

Immediately, the teens froze, looked each other in the eye, then slumped their shoulders.

"Sorry, dad."

She watched their dad stand up tall with hands on his hips and then give a laugh. He patted them both on the shoulder before taking a macaron from them each.

"That's alright, guys, but keep it cool. You guys make everything a competition, then one of these days you're going to get hurt." He looked over at her and she froze. "Or get someone else hurt, like her."

Both teens turned to look at her. She flushed red and tried to turn around, but she already heard their dad saying, "go apologize to her."

She turned around to find them behind her. They looked similar, from appearances to their posture. The only real difference was the boy had a short quiff and the girl had a bob cut. Both of them shifted awkwardly, rubbing the back of their necks and wringing the bottom of their shirts.

"Uh, sorry about running into you," the boy, Jacque, apologized.

"Yeah, sorry about that," the girl, Jacqueline, said too.

She glanced between them and tried to form words. They ended up thinning out in her throat and she had to clear it before speaking again. "It's alright… no problem."

They both grinned and ran back to their dad, excited to be over with the task. She watched them hop and bounce around before turning back to grabbing a macaron.

"Hey, I see you met the twins!"

M. Agreste walked up next to her right as she grabbed the last macaron. She grit her teeth and swallowed the slight buildup of frustration in her.

"Yeah." She gave a half-hearted smile and made to scurry away when the Asian man strolled over with his kids hanging off him. Literally. Again.

"Hey! Hey! Hey! If it isn't our handsome host!" He grinned and lowered his arms, setting the teens down. "And you must be… uh… someone…."

She looked at him, then glanced at the little opening between him and M. Agreste.

"I'm nobody," she chirped anxiously. "I'm just gonna… go."

"Don't we sit behind you?"

She stopped and looked at Jacqueline. The girl was watching her with squinted eyes. Glancing at Jacque, she found him doing the same.

"Yeah, she sits right in front of you guys with Mlle. Lécuye." M. Agreste lifted a wine glass and smiled, then turned to the Asian man. "Oh, and this is Kamala, she's Rose and Juleka's daughter."

She suppressed the urge to scowl at her homeroom teacher.

"No way!" Suddenly, he was leaning in front of her, checking her out. "You're the munchkin they picked up from- Ow!"

He was cut off by the redheaded woman with the baby elbowing his side. He rubbed the sure spot and looked back at her. "Uh, I mean, adopted from Achu."

"Are you bullying our little girl?"

Suddenly, her parents were with them, stepping over to meet the other couple.

"Bonsoir, Kim." Her mom waved. "Bonsoir, Ondine."

"Bonsoir, you two." The redheaded woman, Ondine, beamed and cradled her child. "Ariel says bonsoir too."

Her maman cooed while her mom snorted. While they chatted, she took the opportunity to sneak back around to hide behind her parents.

"So, you're a coach now?" Her mom tilted her head while the man, Kim, nodded.

"Yeah, took some classes in uni for sports management. But, I mean, that's nothing compared to Mdm. Fifteen-Olympic-Gold-Medals right here!"

Ondine visibly blushed and elbowed him playfully. "Kim…."

He kissed her on the temple while her parents giggled and M. Agreste chuckled. Meanwhile, "the twins", were glancing between their parents, their faces a mixture of disgust and boredom. She, herself, looked at them all before slipping back and nudging her mom's hand.

"I need to use the bathroom."

Her mom arched an eyebrow, but shrugged. "Hey, Adrien, where's your bathroom at?"

"Uh, head into the dining room, take the door on the left, and then it's the door on the right in the hall."

She blinked and looked at him. Then, at her mom. After processing the directions, she sighed and marched away from the crowd.

-

“Come on, seriously?” Kim leaned back in his chair. “There’s no way.”

A wave of laughs rolled over the gathered friends while Adrien Agreste rubbed the back of his neck. "I have no idea what you're talking about."

They sat in the foyer, having pulled out sofas, benches, and chairs. Their congregation was shaped in a loose circle at the foot of the stairs, right beneath the chandelier so they could all share in the spotlight.

"No, he's right, Sunshine Boy." Alya drank. "You've had tons of women, and even some guys, hanging off your shoulders. When are you going to find someone to settle down with? Or just run away? I don't know what your retirement plan is."

He looked at her, then at the ground. “I, uh… I don’t know what to tell you guys.” He laughed and shook his head. “I’m just not interested. You know?”

Everyone groaned and rolled their eyes as the front door shut. The hulking form of the Gorilla passed by them and Adrien gave him an appreciative nod. The Agreste family butler and bodyguard nodded back, then went to stand by a table offering an assortment of desserts.

“Hey. Hey. Hey, party people! Guess who!”

Eyes turned to the three newcomers lead by a dark-skinned man dressed in casual, yet neat attire. If it wasn’t his clothing that tipped them off, it was his red hat.

“Nino! Ivan! Mylène!” they cheered, raising their glasses.

The massive figure of Ivan came striding forth with his wife beside him, their hands clasped. Mylène gave a wave while Ivan smiled and opened his arms. Rose squealed and jumped into them while Juleka stood up to meet them.

“‘Sup, gang!” Nino laughed and high-fived Kim, bumped fists with Juleka, then froze when he came face-to-face with Alya. “Um… h-hey, Alya.”

She wore an unimpressed expression and stared at him with narrowed eyes. “M. Lahiffe.”

Everyone glanced between them, Rose coughing into her fist. Adrien walked over and patted his best-friend on the shoulder before moving him into a seat they’d brought out.

“Hey, man, you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah….” Nino swallowed and looked down while Alya glared. “I’m cool. I’m cool….”

Adrien nodded, then glanced at Alya, who turned her gaze away.

“So,” she started and looked straight across their gathering to the ginger-haired woman sitting next to Ondine, “Sabrina, how’s life been?”

Sabrina perked up and met the eyes watching her. She flushed red and crossed her legs. “I’ve been fine.”

“You got your master’s in business management, didn’t you?”

“Yeah.” Sabrina sipped from her wine glass. “Still not worth it.”

Everyone laughed and shared in the revelry, immersing themselves in the warm embrace of nostalgia and fond memories of good times. Then, the closet burst open.

“Can you get off me?”

Out of the closet came an all-too-familiar superhero who rubbed the back of his neck while a pink-haired woman stepped out.

“Sorry, miscalculated the destination.” Pegasu stood and de-transformed, leaving him in a dress shirt and slacks.

“Yeah, you think?” Alix stretched and tugged at her yoga pants, then looked over at their classmates. “Hey, at least you got us in the right building. What’s up, losers!”

A cheer rang out from the rest of their class, who lifted their drinks up and stood to greet them. Kim was the first to walk over, grabbing his best-friends in a bear hug.

“It’s the crew!” he laughed.

“Kim, get your beefy logs off me!”

“Kim, please let us down.”

Ondine giggled at her husband’s antics while Alya stepped past to smack his arm. At her glare, he let them go and stepped back so Alix and Max could breathe. While they do so, however, Alya set her hands on her hips. “So, mind telling us why you were in the closet?”

The duo exchanged looks, then Max pointed at his shirt pocket. Something squirmed in it, and that was all anyone needed to know.

“Uncle Max!”

Jacque and Jacqueline Lê Chiến came running over, practically hopping with excitement. Max, in turn, smiled and raised a hand. “Hey, Jacquie. Hi, Jacquie.”

Both twins made faces, but gave him a high-five nonetheless. Meanwhile, Kim and Ondine shared a laugh while Alix crossed her arms.

“What?“ She threw out her arms. “I don’t get anything?”

The twins shared another look and then ran over to tackle her. Alix gave a cry and hit the ground while Kim burst into cackling and Ondine was suddenly aware that their kids had tackled an adult.

“Kim!” She nudged him and her husband rubbed the back of his neck.

“Uh, you good, Alix?”

A thumb shot up from the dog pile. “Ninety-nine percent, yeah.

Another roar of laughter filled the foyer, echoing and dredging up memories of their time in a classroom together. It was like the years hadn't gone by, save for the fact that they were taller and a few of them had kids.

"Hey, Mylène," Alix kicked up her feet onto Kim's legs, to which he pushed them off, only for her to prop them back up. "What's it like being a collège counselor and a mother?”

The shorter woman shrugged. "It doesn't affect my work much. I can't say the same for Adelene, though."

Beside her, Ivan scratched his chin. "Yeah, we're worried the fame might go to her head some day. I mean, she hasn't pulled a Chloé yet, but she's had moments where… well…."

"She's been a little demanding?" Ondine glanced at her twins, both looked at her before scurrying away to a table on the other side of the foyer.

A wave of chuckles rolled over them.

"How's Kamala, by the way?" Ivan looked over to Rose and Juleka. "I know she isn't too fond of the whole 'my parents are rock stars' thing."

Both women shrugged and Juleka gestured towards Adrien. "She's been homeschooled up until now, so Adrien's who you wanna ask."

Eyes fell onto the blonde and he drank from his glass. "Well, I mean, it's only been the first day. She was quiet and kind of isolated. I think she'll start to open up, though."

Kamala's parents hummed and everyone fell into silence. That was, until Alix piped up. "So, anyone hear about that bank robbery last week?"

Everyone shared looks. Most of them smiled while she smirked. Adrien looked at them all and tilted his head. "Uh, yeah. Bunnyx stopped it, right?"

"Yeah, she sure did." Alix leaned back into her chair and Kim pushed her feet off his legs again.

"Don't forget she had some help." Ondine interjected, smiling innocently when Alix shot a pointed look her way.

"Well, yeah, but Roi Singe pretty much missed all the action."

"I don't know…." Kim sat up. "He kind of saved yo- Bunnyx's butt with the whole 'make the robber's guns jam with his superpowers', you know what I mean?"

The rivals never broke eye contact while everyone chuckled, giggled, or took videos of their first argument in years. All the while, Adrien looked out over his gathered friends and smiled. Everyone was here… well, almost everyone.

 “Thinking about Mari?” Nino stepped up next to him, swirling a drink absentmindedly. “Me too, man… She would’ve loved this.”

He nodded. “Yeah… she would’ve….” His eyes turned to Alya. “So, are you sure you’re alright? I mean, after the divorce-”

“I’m fine. Seriously.” Nino set a hand on his shoulder. “You don’t gotta worry about me or Alya. Just… let us work out the kinks ourselves. Alright, dude?”

Adrien stared at him and nodded solemnly. Then, someone screamed.

-

Kamala stepped out of the bathroom, rubbing her hands dry on her clothes. She glanced around the dark hall and shivered ever-so-slightly. Why were bourgeoisie mansions always so creepy?

She looked at the door out and stepped towards it, but then stopped. There was a humming sound from the other door down the hall, muffled but audible. Turning back, she took in the dark threshold at the other hand of the hall, then glanced at the door behind her.

Hesitantly, she stepped over to press an ear against the door. The humming was louder, but then it stopped. There was an audible click, followed by the sound of murmuring. Was it the adults? Had they moved to another room?

“Probably shouldn’t intrude,” she muttered and stepped away.

Just as she did, someone shouted. She jumped, then froze. Fear petrified her long enough that the voice on the other side died down. Left terrified, but suddenly curious, she glanced at the doorknob before grabbing it.

Opening the door a crack, she peered through into a massive, sterile white room. The lights were dimmed and the curtains were drawn. There was a shadow on the floor, which she followed to a man in a wheelchair.

“I won. Do you hear me?”

She stared at an elderly man, his hair disheveled and body frail. He held a strange box in his hand while wheeling around.

“I won. Stop haunting me!”

He seemed to try and crush the box, but only succeeded in giving it a light squeeze. Immediately after, he let his arm fall and drew in labored breaths.

Kamala processed the sight, decided it was creepy as heck, then backed away. Unfortunately, the door creaked.

Cold blue eyes snapped to her and she froze in place again. Before she knew it, he was wheeling towards her, snarling and baring his teeth. She tried to backpedal, but he was already throwing the door open and grabbing her wrist.

“Who are you!” he demanded. “What are you doing here? Did she bring you here? Did she send use my miraculous?”

“Let go of me!” she screamed and tried to wrench her wrist free.

“Tell me-” The man grasped his chest and gasped.

She struggled harder and pulled away from him. She took a step back to run, but stopped when she saw him keel over and fall out of his wheelchair. Her eyes rounded and she stared in shock at the frail, trembling figure.

She didn’t know what to do. What could she do? He attacked her and was on the floor now. Should she call her parents?

She opted for the latter.

“Help!” She knelt down next to him, searching for something that’d help. “Help! Mom! Maman!”

Her eyes landed on the strange object, an octagonal box. She picked it up and looked it over. Before she could open it, though, a second pair of doors burst open and M. Agreste stepped in.

“Hello? Kamala?” He looked over and his eyes shot open wide. “Father!”

Suddenly, he was at his father’s side, across from her. He pressed two fingers to his wrist, then rolled him over.

“Kamala, get back.” He ordered, then pressed his hands on his father’s chest. “One. Two. One. Two.”

She stared, still trapped in shock. Hands grabbed her shoulders and pulled her away. When she came out of her stupor, she looked up at her maman who held her tight.

“Are you okay, sweetie?”

“He- He grabbed my wrist, I-... I didn’t- He just-....” Tears tumbled down her face, but her maman wiped them with her shirt.

“Did he hurt you?”

“N-No, but-”

“But?”

“He just grabbed my wrist and I panicked and pulled away and- and-”

“He’s still breathing!” M. Agreste snapped his head up. “Alya, call 911!”

“Already on it!”

“Gorilla! Get the car ready! Nino! Go upstairs and knock on the door right of my room!”

“Got it!”

Kamala stared at the scene playing out before her, unable to comprehend anything. Her mind was a mess, thoughts crashing and swirling like a chaotic storm. All she felt was dread in the pit of her stomach, a cold icy ball of pure anxiety forcing her to stay on her knees while her maman held her and her mom rubbed circles into her back.

-

“Is he going to be okay?”

Her parents shared looks and she glanced at their faces. Despite her maman being bubbly and her mom being chill, for once they shared the same expression of hesitance and concern.

“He should be.” Her mom twisted around to look at her. “But are you okay?”

“Y-Yeah….” She rubbed her wrist. “I’m okay….”

Her parents exchanged more looks.

“Your mom’s going to go to the hospital, Kamala,” her maman said, getting out of the car. “We’re going to stay here at home, alright?”

She nodded numbly and got out too. They waved her mom goodbye as she drove off to meet M. Agreste and the rest of the adults at the hospital. Her maman lead her inside, through the boutique and up the stairs in the back.

She mindlessly ambled past their furniture and to her room. She registered her maman lingering in the doorway, watching her sit down on her bed. A second passed before she joined her, kneeling in front of her.

“What happened, Kamala?”

She opened her mouth, then closed it. Fear kept her voice down, but a need to speak forced it up like water in a backed up pipe. “I got out of the bathroom and was going back to the party, but then I heard some weird sound and went to look and I found M. Agreste, but he was acting weird, yelling at this- this box! But when I tried to leave he heard me and I couldn’t move because- because I was so scared.” She rubbed her wrist harder. “He grabbed my wrist and yelled at me, but I screamed and struggled, then tried to run, but then he fell over and-....”

Her voice faded, but she’d gotten the story across. Her maman gave her a pitying look, then drew her into a hug.

“It’s alright, sweetie. You’re okay.”

She trembled and choked on a sob. She wanted to not do that, to be strong. Yet, her body betrayed her and she could only sit there, crying and shaking.

“I’ll talk with Adrien and we’ll try to clear this up. Whatever happened to M. Agreste, it wasn’t your fault. He’s had problems like this before.”

Her voice failed her, so she bobbed her head.

“How about you take a shower.” She picked up her wrist. “It’ll make you feel better.”

Before she knew it, she was in the bathroom. The water was running and steam was filling the air. She stared into the mirror, watching her reflection. Her red eyes burned and her cheeks were tear-stricken. She still quivered ever-so-slightly.

A wave of disgust hit her and she pulled at her clothes. Before she stripped anything off, though, she felt a bump in her jacket.

“What?”

She pulled out the octagonal box M. Agreste had held. Her eyes stared at it, a new wave of fear taking her. She was going to get in trouble for this. Whatever this was….

Curiosity overcame dread and she put a hand on the top of it. Maybe one peek wouldn’t hurt?

She opened it and the world went pink. A second later, she blinked and got up off the floor. The back of her head stung and she rubbed it tentatively. The box sat on the ground, opened and revealing two black earrings inside.

Picking it up, she examined them, then looked up at the mirror. A woman with bluebell eyes stared back.

“Hello?” The woman waved. “Hi, uh... I’m Marinette. Who are you?”

-

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