#I don’t care if it’s fishy I’m diving in | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

amjustagirl · 4 years ago

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Summary: Sakusa Kiyoomi's heart has always pointed north. He wonders if it's broken when it starts to point inexorably towards her.

Set in the aftermath of The Astrophile, in the same universe as Storm Chaser.

Pairing: Sakusa Kiyoomi / f! reader

Genre: Fluff, angst, romance

Wordcount: 7.8k

Masterlist link here

A/N: Dedicated first and foremost to Ami @softsakusa, one of the first people to convince that my writing isn’t shit and that I should keep creating fics.

This fic is also for all the readers who wanted a happy ending for the reader in The Astrophile (which sets out the backstory of the reader, Iwaizumi and Oikawa), and also follows the events of Storm Chaser (which follows the turbulent relationship of Miya Atsumu and now wife - I named her Kaiyo in this fic to avoid confusion!).

Hope you like it - reblogs and comments are always dearly appreciated <3

It must be the worst meet cute of all time.

That is – if he’s using that phrase correctly. It keeps appearing in the god-awful English movies Bokuto and Miya keep playing during team movie nights that makes him want to tear his hair out.

But yes, he meets her at Miya Shino’s seventh birthday party, the birthday girl the apple of Miya Atsumu’s eye, the princess of his castle, the most perfect angel in the entire heavens - the list of pet names growing longer and longer the more the obnoxious setter prattles on about his daughter.

And apparently Miya Shino is a chip off the old block, and is as obsessed with volleyball as her father. Which means that he, one Sakusa Kiyoomi, is forced to turn up on a Saturday afternoon for a birthday party to teach a group of children roughly about the same height as his kneecaps how to play volleyball.

There are plenty of other MSBY players that Miya Atsumu could have rounded up to fritter away a Saturday afternoon. Hinata, for instance - the sunny, fiery headed opposite hitter a perennial favourite with young fans. Or Inunaki - the liberio has an amiable personality that he certainly wouldn’t mind snot nosed children hanging off his arms like a walking, talking monkey bar. But no, Hinata is apparently busy on a weekend meditation retreat, and Inunaki is at his sister’s wedding party, so both of them managed to escape this travesty of a birthday party.

That leaves him with Bokuto who’s practically a child himself, beaming, bumping balls at screaming children with one hand, the other hand lifting another child above his head. Meian’s here too but his own kid is somewhere in this gaggle of monsters anyway, so he’s here to carry out his parental duties – hopefully his presence might balance the sheer chaos he’s sure he’s about to face.

‘Omi-omi you made it!’ Atsumu greets him with a slap to the back.

Sakusa resists the urge to bare his teeth. Is this what hell is? Screeching gremlins underfoot, the nauseating smell of fried food permeating the air.

And it’s probably because he’s still in a horrified daze at the situation he’s put himself in (which Atsumu is either too dense to pick up on or already immune due to the series of similar expressions he pulls at him on a daily basis), Atsumu manages to snap a party hat on his head, before he prances off in victory.

Sakusa snarls, ripping off the red paper hat off his head.

Why on earth did he agree to this again?

‘Sakusa-san! Thank you so much for coming!’

His glare softens by a fraction.

Miya Kaiyo, Atsumu’s long suffering wife approaches him, careful not to touch him, waving at him instead. He appreciates her thoughtfulness, so he thaws a little, giving her a slight nod in greeting.

Right, she’s the reason why he’s here.

He’s always been fond of her - competent, patient, intelligent, far too good for her idiot of a husband. Approximately a year ago, he sought her professional help with his accounts. He graduated with a business degree from Chuo University, so he can tell there is obviously something fishy that his manager is pulling with his finances, but the accounting courses he took weren’t in depth to pinpoint the problem. Miya Kaiyo, on the other hand, a trained forensic accountant with a nose like a bloodhound for fraudulent accounts, nailed down the problem within a week. So when she asked him after a game whether he’d be free to attend her daughter's birthday party, he hadn’t been able to turn her down.

‘It was no problem’, he says stiffly, already itching to spray the whole place down with disinfectant. ‘I’m glad to be here.’

Kaiyo laughs at his obvious lie, tugging at his sleeve to seat him in a corner. ‘You don’t have to go play with the kids if you didn’t want to! I invited you so we could catch up, and besides, I did want to introduce you to someone.’

‘Hm.’

He doesn’t try to mask his reluctance this time. Kaiyo means well, he knows, but between her and his mother, he’s tired of having to fend off match making attempts. It’s not like he can’t get a date – he can and he has, it’s just difficult to find someone willing to put up with his prickly personality and busy schedule.

‘Well she’s not here yet, so you’ll have to wait. And while we’re waiting, tell me how’ve things been, Sakusa-san?’

Grateful that he’s not going to be forced into shepherding children into playing anything remotely resembling an actual volleyball match (he suspects he might have more luck teaching cats how to do the conga), he settles into his seat, mouth stretching into something resembling a smile. He lets her chatter about work, and they’re deep in a discussion about his plans post-volleyball (because he can feel the countdown on his career in his creaking bones, his aching sinews) when Atsumu swoops in on him again, like a vulture seeking easy prey.

‘What’cha doin’ with my wife, Omi-omi’, he slips a hand around Kaiyo’s waist mock possessively.

She swats at him. He ducks, raising his hands in surrender.

‘I enjoy talking to an actual adult sometimes, ‘Tsumu!’

‘Oh come on, I already have to share you with ‘Samu most of the time, now you’re leaving me for Omi-kun?!’

‘Dramatic ass.’

‘Please, you chose to marry me.’ He crows, flipping his hair. He looks ridiculous, he always does. Kaiyo seems to agree -

‘And I wonder why sometimes.’ She retorts, Atsumu squawking indignantly at her response, hair ruffling like an offended chick. But Kaiyo ruins the effect of her words by laughing, leaning over to affectionately peck her husband on the cheek.

Sakusa should be annoyed by this display of childishness, but for some inexplicable reason, a frisson of longing bubbles in his chest instead. It’s strange. Marriage or even serious relationships have never been something he’s actively sought. After all, it always seemed horrendously illogical to put all your eggs in one basket and hope nothing trips up – but his heart pays his mind no mind, and the strange sensation continues to trickle down his throat into his chest.

He makes up an excuse to slip to the bathroom for a tactical retreat from this madness.

Then he takes a breath.

Rinse. Lather hands with soap. Rinse. Repeat again .

Familiar motions, bred out of a desire to do things right, transformed into an unbreakable habit. Cold water, washing away soap bubbles.

Right. Now he’s ready for another plunge off the deep end .

He’s a foot past the threshold of the community hall where the party is being held when Miya Shino darts towards him. She’s very clearly her father’s daughter with his penchant for mischief because she dives between his legs, making him stumble in confusion. Then Meian Shugo’s eldest son Makoto barrels towards him, intent on reaching the ball held aloft in Shino’s hands.

Athletic reflexes be damned in the face of a pair of hell-spawn.

‘Shino!’. Kaiyo shouts.

‘Makoto!’ Meian thunders.

Sakusa flails, decidedly without grace, and in his attempt at not squashing the two little devils, he manages to do something even worse .

Much, much worse.

He manages to trip over his feet and bump right into the woman Miya Kaiyo wanted to introduce him to (this, he finds out later). It’s a lost cause – he’s six foot two of pure muscle, dwarfing her by a mile, and she’s carrying a huge box in her hand.

He ends up face planting directly into her chest.

His brain short circuits at the feeling of plush softness and vanilla and – ,

‘Woah - Omi-omi, never thought I’d have to defend the honour of my cousin in law’, Atsumu laughs.

The sudden flare of irritation at Atsumu’s words kickstarts his brain back into gear. Rearing back in alarm, he promptly topples over onto his butt.

‘Uncle ‘kusa, I’m sorry’ Shino screeches, distraught. Makoto merely snivels. Kaiyo is evidently the only one with working brain cells, because she rushes over to help them up.

The-woman-with-the-mysterious-box makes Kaiyo take the box first. It holds precious cargo - Shino’s birthday cake, he later finds out, but because she manages to cling on to it with admirable tenacity, it emerges more or less intact. Then she turns to him, still sprawled on the floor. He scoots away, still dazed.

She offers him a steady hand. ‘Hello’, she says. ‘It seems we’ve gotten off to rather a bad start.’

There is a hint of mirth in her voice, but her eyes are kind.

He takes her hand with a rare smile.

Miya Kaiyo grins behind the cake box. It turns out her daughter is a better matchmaker than either her or (heaven forbid) her husband.

It turns out that Miya Kaiyo wanted to introduce him to her cousin, newly moved to Osaka from Tokyo. She’s a sports journalist, used to cover volleyball even, but for some reason their paths never crossed. She too, is tired of her cousin’s well intentioned meddling, but asks him if he’d like to meet her for dinner one day ‘if only to get Kaiyo off her back, because she’s persistent’, and funnily enough, he agrees.

He doesn’t mind making a new friend, he reasons. She seems decent enough.

They go out for dinner on a Tuesday night. She doesn’t complain when he tells her that due to his diet planned by MSBY’s nutritionist, most restaurants are off limits. Instead, she asks intelligent questions about whether the sources of protein and fibre he’s relying on are varied enough, even suggesting alternatives like tempeh, a Southeast Asian soy product.

He appreciates that.

She doesn’t also fawn over the fact that he’s a professional athlete. That makes sense, considering she’s probably interviewed dozens, if not hundreds of individuals who are just like him. It’s nice - he’s tired of groupies who start dates off by staring at him starry eyed, but ending it with disappointment in their eyes when they discover that he’s just a guy who practices hitting balls enough to do it for a living. And best of all, she doesn’t mind that their conversation sometimes wanes into silence. She doesn’t seem to feel the need to fill empty spaces with inane drivel, nor expect him to entertain her like a circus animal.

He likes that.

So when the night ends, he asks her whether she’d like to have dinner with him again. ‘Just as friends’, he’s quick to clarify.

‘Sure’, she nods, and they bid each other goodnight.

They start having dinner every Tuesday night, subject to their erratic schedules.

He enjoys her company. She’s thoughtful, bringing him home made baked goods like zucchini cake (low sugar, of course), sneaking him chocolate scones for his cheat days after she discovers his hidden sweet tooth. She’s considerate too, never blinking an eye at his compulsive need to make sure everything is just in order, even if the waitress stands behind them aghast when he insists on using disinfectant to wipe down their table. She doesn’t even call him paranoid when he passes her a bottle of sanitizer.

Slowly, he finds himself confiding in her about things he’d maybe only tell his cousin, Motoya. Or at least, the things he would tell Motoya if the guy would only pick up his calls.

‘Sorry’, Motoya texts back after a couple of missed calls. ‘ Practice has been brutal recently.

In a remarkable display of restraint, Sakusa does not point out that EJP Raijin is below MSBY in this season’s rankings.

So he tells her instead about how he’s contemplating retirement, how he’s trying to chart out his next steps career wise. She surprises him by listening to him gravely, pointing out that he can lean on his business degree to possibly land an office job in event management or with sports associations, putting him in touch with one overly excited Kuroo Tetsuro. He tucks her suggestions away carefully at the back of his mind.

It’s nice to have a friend, he tells himself, his lips quirking ever so slightly when her hand grazes his as they walk down the street together.

He invites her to the monthly gatherings that the MSBY players take turns to host for their family and friends, making the excuse that he needs a human shield in any event hosted by Miya Atsumu. She agrees easily, perking up at the chance to spend a Sunday afternoon with her cousin and niece - ‘ and Kaiyo’ll need help, especially since she’s pregnant’, bringing far too many cupcakes topped with the lightest, fluffiest cream cheese frosting he’s ever had the pleasure of tasting. Even Miya Osamu gives her a nod of respect after stuffing his face full of her cupcakes. He, unlike his twin, has good taste.

Her brow furls into a concerned frown when he quietly sneaks himself a second cupcake. ‘You don’t have to force yourself to eat it just to be polite! I made it, so I know it has so much sugar and butter it would make your nutritionist weep. If you want, I snuck some zucchini cake in my handbag for you instead.’

He stubbornly shovels a large bite into his mouth. ‘I won’t tell if you don’t.’

She bursts into laughter, leaning forward to wipe away the smudge of frosting on the tip of his nose with her thumb.

Miya Kaiyo shoots him a knowing look across the room, waggling her eyebrows in an eerie imitation of her husband. He fights to keep his face blank, refusing to feed her satisfaction, but fails, a hot flush rising in his cheeks.

‘Traitor’ he mouths at her. Her smirk only deepens.

Fortunately, the gathering ends with no further mishaps, either to his physical well-being or his dignity. Makoto is packed off with Meian, the little boy whining for more time to play with Shino. Hinata and Bokuto prance off for some ridiculous buffet on the other side of town.

As for himself, he hangs back with her to help the Miyas put their house back in order, expelling an amused puff of a laugh from his nose when she forces the very pregnant Kaiyo to ‘stay still, for goodness sake!’ on the couch, dancing around the house with a mop, Shino trailing after her waving a feather duster with gusto. He refrains from telling the little girl that she’s more likely to spread the dust than to actually clear it – at least she’s not causing more havoc this way.

‘I can’t believe I could’ve ever taken this for granted, y’know’, Atsumu comments from behind him, mouth wide in a tender smile. ‘It’s the best feeling in the world to have a wife and kid who loves ya to the moon and back, welcoming ya home after a long day at work. They make everything worth it.’

He’s thrown for a loop at this rare display of emotional vulnerability from the usually obnoxious setter and for once, does not resort to hostility, choosing instead to acknowledge the blonde setter’s words with a tacticum nod.

The Miyas’ apartment is far too chaotic for his tastes, with colourful toys scattered on the floor, mismatched picture frames of the little family on the walls, but laughter hangs in the air, and light spills from the windows, illuminating the warmth and love and fondness in every look and word the Miyas gift each other.

His father gave him a compass when he was a child, as a present to celebrate his first match. His mother clucked her tongue because it’s a strange gift for a child - delicate, fiddly, its gold exterior tarnished with age. But his father chuckled and told him that he’s old enough to appreciate that the compass is his father’s, and his father’s father before that, an heirloom to remind their sons to work hard at everything they do, and to keep their hearts on course, pointing north.

And Sakusa thinks he’s done that. He’s worked and worked and worked at perfecting his skills in his chosen sport. He’s accepted his solo course, so laser focused on carving out a career in professional sports leaves little time or space for intimate relationships. Not to mention the fact that watching the disaster of Atsumu’s early years of marriage from the sidelines, made him swear off similar heartbreak for himself.

But there are times when he can’t help but feel a little lonely - when he has to struggle to find a date for MSBY events, when he has no one to celebrate the holidays with, when he goes home every day to his neat, cold apartment with space for only one occupant.

The compass in his heart creaks. It starts to turn a few degrees just off-course.

‘Do you ever wonder what it’d be like to get married?’ he asks her as he’s walking her home that night.

‘I did, once upon a time’, she shrugs carelessly. He misses the sudden strain in her smile. ‘Why do you ask?’

He stays silent for a while, the length of the quiet street giving him time to properly ferment his response. He considers the effects of adding splashes of colour to his dull life, weighs it against his long cultivated instinct to avoid the potential chaos of any emotional entanglements. He finds himself suddenly craving the sweetness of cream cheese frosting, and wonders how it’d be like to come home to light, fluffy cakes baked by her hands.

When they reach her apartment block, she tilts her head at him curiously, obviously awaiting his answer. He tugs his words together, strings his swirling thoughts into a decipherable sentence.

‘Because Atsumu and Kaiyo seem happy together. And I wondered if we’d be happy together too.’

He watches her puzzle over his words, her brow furling into a confused frown. ‘And I wasn’t proposing, by the way’, he feels the need to clarify.

She snorts. ‘I didn’t think so.’ With a directness that he very much appreciates, she looks at him squarely and asks - ‘Are you asking me out, Sakusa Kiyoomi?’

He meets her gaze. ‘Yes, I am. We’ve known each other for a decently long time for me to conclude our personalities are well matched, and we’re both mature adults who respect each other’s work schedules and commitments. And if you don’t mind that I can be overly blunt and quiet sometimes - ‘

‘ - which I don’t’, she interjects, with a chuckle.

‘I think we might be happy together’, he concludes, with a small smile that’s becoming more common in her presence.

He allows her the space to turn his proposition over in her mind.

‘Alright’, she finally says. ‘I guess we can give it a go’.

So much for Atsumu accusing him of having a heart made out of tin. Flesh and muscle works overtime to pump blood into his cheeks as she slots her fingers between his and gives his hand a squeeze.

Being in a relationship isn’t too different from what they had before.

They still keep to their standing date to meet every Tuesday (schedules permitting, of course). But now he doesn’t have to make up excuses to ask her out on outings that aren’t food related. At first he tries his best to adhere to dating norms, arranging for romantic dates at candlelit restaurants, buying her massive bouquets that make her sneeze.

‘It’s fine, Omi’, she tells him gently after they spend another uncomfortable evening in a dimly lit restaurant eating off plates too large for the laughably tiny food portions. ‘I’m happy just hanging out with you. You don’t have to go out of your way to impress me, I’m not holding on to any ridiculous expectations of you’. He stops after that, glad he doesn’t have to suffer another night trying to decipher which utensil to be used at which course, or having to put on starched formal wear to yet another stuffy restaurant.

She’s noticeably happier when they accompany each other on trips to the supermarket, each holding a stack of coupons to take advantage of the latest deals. She shields him from any overly zealous obaa-sans with gusto, throwing elbows and using her grocery basket as a makeshift battering ram before they crowd close enough to him to trigger his anxiety. He helps her reach for things on the top shelf ‘to prevent her from scaling the grocery shelves like an overgrown teenager’ , he snarks. He’s worried his attempt at teasing lands wrong, but she snorts and thanks him good naturedly anyways.

On the weekends, they develop a habit of meal prepping for the rest of the week at her apartment. His kitchen lacks the fancy mixers and blenders that she has, and in all honesty, his dark, spartan apartment lacks the sunlight and warmth that spills into her apartment from the windows, so it’s only logical that they should spend the bulk of their time there. It’s an oasis of calm for him, chopping vegetables and chicken into small cubes, sautéing them for the week ahead, while she bustles around whipping eggs and flour and milk together to form another delectable cake that they always end up sharing at the end of the day.

He starts to dread matches away from home a little more than he used to. While hotel rooms are as spartan as his own apartment, he doesn’t have the option of heading over to her apartment to bask in her quiet warmth. His meals come in styrofoam boxes instead of the glass tupperware she stacks on her kitchen counter, and he turns up his nose at store bought cakes that his teammates offer him, only craving for those baked in her oven. He even starts looking up to the stands for a glimpse of her, only to remember that she can’t be there to cheer the team on.

‘Cheer up, Omi-omi! We’ll have a home match next week’, Atsumu tells him jovially.

‘It doesn’t matter either way to me’, he mutters resentfully, but the setter only grins.

‘Trust me, it matters a great deal to have the girl ya love cheering ya on, y’know?’

He stalks off to the changing room, ignoring the peals of laughter from the blonde annoyance he leaves in his wake.

The tight coil of loneliness only loosens when he sees her waiting for him at the station when he returns. She ignores his protests to snag his suitcase away from him, the case looking comically large against her small frame, but she uses it effectively as a tank to force a path through the crowd, and drag him back to her apartment in no time.

‘You need a home cooked dinner to make up for all those industrially prepared food you must’ve been eating this entire week’, she tells him, bustling around the kitchen, only stilling when he takes her shoulders in his hands.

‘Are you happy?’ he asks, when he cups her face to carefully brush the dusting of flour on her cheek away.

‘Why wouldn’t I be?’ She laughs, the sound fond.

‘Just checking in’, he tells her, closing his eyes as she pulls him down towards her for a kiss.

All in all, it’s a happy, uncomplicated relationship. He likes it that way.

If his heart were a compass, he’d suspect it’s broken because instead of pointing north, it starts to inch inexorably towards her.

But there are strange quirks he notices about her that niggles at his brain.

She refuses point blank to check out the planetarium when she attends an event held at the adjacent Art Museum as his date, professing to have an irrational dislike for stars.

‘They’re just balls of burning gas and light ’ , he points out. ‘What could you possibly have against them?’

There’s a flicker of irritation in her eyes that he does not miss. ‘I know it’s stupid but just humour me, ok?’ Her tone verges on a snarl, before she storms away, ostensibly to the bathroom to freshen herself up.

She returns later with an apology for her behaviour. Though he’s confused, he respects her privacy and does not push for an answer.

He’s at her apartment preparing meals for the week ahead when the doorbell rings and an enormous bouquet of white lilies are deposited into her arms. She stares dumbly at the flowers, their sickly sweet scent permeating the air.

His brow furls. ‘Today isn’t your birthday, is it?’

His words jolt her out of her trance. ‘No’, she answers, before inexplicably storming to the living room and dumping the bouquet with a vengeance on the coffee table. Pollen flutters to the floor, delicate white petals crushed in her hands.

‘It’s nothing’, she tells him as he shoots her a questioning look.

When she disappears to the washroom, he peeks at the card. There’s no name on it, just a simple message - ‘consider it, please?’

He doesn’t question her about it when she returns to the kitchen. She doesn’t offer him any answers either.

He finds himself wondering about them.

It was refreshing at first to have a relationship free of any expectations. She never asks for more than he’s willing to give, seems happy enough to slot herself into the pockets of time he offers, only attends his games when he gives her tickets, doesn’t get upset with him when he inevitably forgets to text.

But therein lies the issue, doesn’t it?

If she truly likes him, wants to pursue a relationship seriously with him, shouldn’t she be demanding more than the crumbs of affection and attention he shows her? They’re both past the age of thirty, shouldn’t she be looking to get married and settle down, maybe spawn a demon child or two?

He’s tried raising it with her once, but she responded with confusion.

‘I don’t have any expectations of you, Omi’, she’d replied. ‘We both have busy lives, so whatever you’re willing to give, I’m happy to take’.

There’s technically nothing wrong about her answer. It’s wholly considerate and kind - very much her.

Still, it makes him wonder - if her heart were a compass, would it point towards him?

He manages to hold his tongue until she gets another delivery of flowers.

This time he opens the door when the doorbell rings, assaulted by the heady scent of lillies, pollen smeared on his sleeves. This time, there’s a name on the card.

Oikawa Tooru .

It takes a couple of seconds for him to realise why the name is so familiar. It’s the same name Hinata and Kageyama used to buzz about every Olympics - the famous Argentinian setter who started his career as a schoolboy from Miyagi, a prodigious setter who never made it to Nationals in high school, refused to give up and forged his way to success in a whole new land, continents away.

‘How do you know Oikawa’? He asks her. ‘And why does he keep sending your flowers?’

‘He’s just an old acquaintance,’ she admits. ‘He’s just sending the flowers to persuade me to attend his wedding.’

His forehead crinkles in confusion, and he tries his best not to leap to conclusions, but since she doesn’t seem to be forthcoming with further clarification, he presses her further.

‘And why won’t you attend his wedding?’

Her shoulders slouch in obvious reluctance as she turns away, focusing her attention on the mixing bowl. But Kiyoomi isn’t easily deterred, so he firmly takes the mixing bowl from her and sets it on the countertop. He raises an eyebrow at her, clearly seeking an answer.

She huffs a sigh through her nose. ‘Because he’s getting married to my ex-boyfriend, ok?’

He blinks. That was unexpected.

‘It happened half a decade ago. Ancient history. I’m over it.’ She mutters to the floor.

‘Why didn’t you tell me about it?’

‘Because it’s none of your business’, she snaps, grabbing the mixing bowl again, beating the batter with a vengeance.

‘You’re going to ruin the texture if you whisk it too hard’, he tugs the bowl away from her again. She refuses to relinquish her grip.

‘Leave me alone!’ she snarls, yanking the bowl back. Confused by her sudden fury, he lets go of the bowl, only for her to stumble back, eyes wide as she loses her balance, knocking her head against the countertop.

He drops down onto his knees, not even noticing the batter soaking into his pants, combing through her hair, scouring the back of her neck for any sign of injury. It’s only when he’s satisfied that her fall has resulted in nothing more than a bruise that should go away by tomorrow that he notices her tears soaking the front of his shirt.

‘Do you want to tell me what’s wrong?’ he asks, wiping her tears away with a batter splattered thumb.

She hangs her head, body still shaking from her sobs. ‘I’ve already made such a mess of things – don’t want you to have to listen to my nonsense – am just bein’ stupid, that’s all - ’.

He patiently waits until her sobs dissolves into mere sniffles before speaking. ‘I want you to tell me what’s wrong. If you’re up to it.’

So through more broken sobs and hiccups, he listens to the tale of Iwaizumi Hajime, a boy who was her world, who only realised he was always in love with Oikawa Tooru, a fortnight before she and he were to wed. Her voice wavers as she tells him the full story of the white lilies, explains that her irrational dislike for stars stems from the reminder that she chose to give her world up to a boy-king burning brighter than the stars in the night sky combined.

He waits until her words run out, and she’s leaning against him, broken and pliant in a way that makes his heart ache.

‘I wish you told me about it earlier’, he tells her, tucking the loose strands of hair behind her ear. ‘That you would trust me enough to tell me about the things that hurt you in the past. And I wonder about the state of our relationship if you don’t even trust me enough for that’.

‘That’s unfair. You never asked - ‘

‘How could I ask about something I didn’t even know about?’ He takes hold of her shoulders, forcing her to look at him. Hurt and anger and shock simmer in her eyes, each swirl of emotion fighting for dominance.

‘I didn’t want to expect anything more from this relationship than you were willing to give’, she admits after a pause.

She’s scared of being hurt again. He doesn’t miss the subtext.

‘Shall I tell you what I want from you then? I have a list, if you’re willing to hear me out’ he asks, with a smile that’s growing more common the more time he spends around her.

She nods, but keeps her gaze stubbornly on the ground.

He takes his time to choose his words. He’s never been verbose - not like Atsumu or Bokuto or even easygoing Motoya, choosing to only say what is strictly necessary, using the precise amount of words, nothing more, nothing less. But this is a situation that requires more emotion rather than precision, so he inhales a shaky breath, letting it fuel the sentiment in his heart as he exhales.

‘First. I want you to trust that I’ll never hurt you like he did’, he says, and with a self-deprecating smile he adds - ‘I don’t have any childhood friends to be secretly in love with besides Motoya, and I’m hardly going to be pining after my flake of a cousin’.

That triggers the corners of her lips to tilt upwards, and encouraged, he carries on.

‘Second. I want you to be open with me about what you want - your dreams, your expectations of me. I want to hear them all because you’re important to me.’

That makes her flush pink, and she sneaks a glance up towards him.

‘Third. I want to wake up each morning with you by my side and come home to you every night. I want to watch you fight cranky old ladies in the supermarket in my honour, be the first person to taste test all your baking experiments - even the failed ones that are only fit to feed Atsumu. I want us to be happy together. Forever, if possible.’

He lifts her bodily into his lap, brushes his nose against her cheek. ‘Now that I’ve told you what I’m willing to give, is that too much for you to take?’ he murmurs against her lips.

Her blush blossoms into a deep scarlet, but her eyes are iridescent pools of startled delight. She doesn’t speak, sealing her answer instead with her lips.

His heart’s compass is irretrievably broken, the needle melted into place. It doesn’t point north any longer, no – it’s always going to point towards her.

They move in together after that.

He gives up his apartment, professing to prefer the warmth and light of hers. The Miyas help him move in even when he tries to refuse their help, Atsumu helping him to lug cardboard boxes up the stairs, Kaiyo helping him sort out his belongings, sorting them into his allocated cupboards.

When they’re done, they order pizza and she bakes a cake to celebrate. ‘An impromptu housewarming’ she says, toasting Miya Kaiyo with a slice of pepperoni pizza with a laugh.

Kiyoomi shares a slice of chocolate cake with Atsumu in complete defiance of their nutritionist’s advice, jostling forks over the very last bite. She and Kaiyo scold them teasingly, telling them to behave like they’re actually thirty and not teenagers on the cusp of adulthood. Atsumu pulls at Kaiyo’s ponytail in retaliation. He refuses to engage in similar tomfoolery, reddening instead when she reaches over to ruffle his curls.

‘This is nice’, he remarks to Atsumu later, when their significant others are out of earshot, gossiping and giggling about something or other.

‘It is, isn’t it’, Atsumu replies, a dopey smile on his face as he stares at his wife.

It truly is , Kiyoomi thinks, staring at her.

He takes over most of the cleaning, it clears his mind, he tells her. So to split the chores evenly, she insists on doing their laundry and cooking, and he doesn’t even nag her too much when she forgets to split the white and coloured clothes and stains some of his shirts once in a while.

Wedding invites printed on expensive cream paper and bouquets of white lilies start to litter their doorstep every day. He tries his best to dispose of them before they reach her sight, but every so often, he comes home too late, catches her wilt as she brushes white petals from their doorstep.

‘I don’t blame either of them’, she tells him, after he asks if she’d like him to call Iwaizumi and tell him to drown himself in a vat of batter, thank you very much.

‘You’re too kind to both of them’ he says plainly, as they share a pot of tea, his head pillowed in her lap. ‘I would’ve just set them both on fire and left them to rot.’

‘Hajime loved Tooru for almost all his life - I just wanted to see him happy in the end. Argh - I sound so stupid and sentimental like an old grandma, just laugh at me already’ she complains, hiding her burning cheeks in her hands.

‘You aren’t stupid for being kind.’ He hums, quiet and low. ‘It’s why I love you so.’

He relishes the soft light dawning in her eyes, captures her whispered affection with careful fingers, spins them into gold.

He has to turn off the stove to answer the door when some rude lout bangs on their front door far too early on a Sunday morning.

With his coldest sneer and thinking resentfully about his breakfast, Kiyoomi swings the door open, fully intent on looming over the disturbance with his full height, but takes a step back instead when he finds one Iwaizumi Hajime hanging off the door knob.

‘Hello’, Iwaizumi looks up at him confusedly.

‘Hi’, he nods a greeting back at his old Olympic team trainer. They stare at each other.

‘Eh - I think I’ve got the wrong house’, Iwaizumi scratches the back of his neck awkwardly. ‘Sorry about that, Sakusa-san.’

He’s about to close the door in Iwaizumi’s face when her voice chimes in, clear as a bell.

‘Who’s at the door, Omi?’

The shorter man shoots him a look of barely contained rage as he uses his bulk to push his way through the doorway towards her. Kiyoomi tries to stop him, protesting that he can’t barge into someone’s private property without an invitation like that, but it’s as futile an endeavour as trying to block the path of a raging storm.

Iwaizumi reaches her first, raising a hand as if to cup her face by instinct, before letting it fall back limply by his side. ‘You weren’t answering any of my messages or calls’, he says. ‘I was worried about you.’

She stares at him blankly for a moment. Then fire sparks in her eyes.

‘Well, as you can see, I’m completely fine’, she replies, jaw and fists clenched. ‘You don’t need to do a welfare check on me, we’re not involved anymore.’

The scorching pain in Iwaizumi’s eyes is evident, even from a distance away. ‘Yeah. Well. I thought we were friends. You didn’t even tell me you were dating again’. He shoves his hands in his pockets, tossing another heated glance in Kiyoomi’s way.

‘I didn’t think I needed to update my ex-fiance about my love life, especially not when he’s trying to drag me to attend his wedding that I already said I’m not going to attend’, she bites back.

Iwaizumi opens his mouth, then closes it with a resounding snap. ‘I’m sorry’, he says, with heartbreaking honesty. ‘I told Tooru that you probably didn’t want to hear from us, but he insisted and I got worried when I didn’t hear from you for months’.

Kiyoomi can see her glare soften into molten sympathy. The tension in the air crackles with electricity. He’s neither blind nor stupid – he can sense the years of longing and love not quite lost between them.

He thinks she loves him, Sakusa Kiyoomi – weird habits, cold disposition and all, but the doubt clogging up his arteries and veins is enough to make his heart seize – and if she’s going to break his heart, he’d much rather she not do it in front of Iwaizumi.

‘Hajime - ‘ she begins to say, and at this point he jumps in -

‘I’ll excuse myself so you both have the chance to catch up’, he says, waving aside her protests as he slips on his shoes. Even in his haste to leave the house, he clicks his tongue at the mess Iwaizumi left behind at their genkan , kneeling down to arrange their shoes, only standing up when he’s satisfied they’re neatly arranged back in place.

‘Omi, you don’t have to leave’, she says, holding the door open.

He shrugs his shoulders at her, nose and mouth already obscured by his usual face mask. ‘Let me know when you’d like me to come back’.

If she’d like him to come back. She doesn’t chase after him, after all.

It’s a beautiful Sunday morning, but the golden sunshine feels more like a taunt rather than a balm to his mood. His stomach growls, making him long for the scrambled eggs he was in the middle of frying before he was so rudely interrupted, but his growing sense of nausea keeps him from seeking out an alternative meal.

Instead, he makes his way to the park, sits on a relatively clean bench. There are couples a-plenty, strolling around hand in hand, families picnicking merrily around him, compounding the growing chasm of loneliness in his chest. He tries to count the seconds by his breaths, tries not to let the minutes expand the insecurities crawling, inch by inch up his throat.

He sits alone. Poised, yet short of breath.

He wonders if Iwaizumi Hajime has finally figured out that stars, for all their brilliance, cannot compensate for their lack of human kindness. And if so, he wonders which direction her heart would point towards if it were a compass - whether it’s as broken as his, and whether it points towards Iwaizumi or him.

He waits.

Then his phone buzzes.

Ah.

She’s asking him to come home. He does not dare to overthink the meaning of that single word. But he does not hide that his steps back home are lighter than when he left, though the key in his hand shakes so hard it takes him three tries to fit it into the keyhole. He does not try to suffocate the seed of hope budding in the soft earth of his heart when he realises Iwaizumi’s shoes have vanished without a trace.

“Omi?”

She’s waiting for him, slipping warm arms around his waist, tangling her fingers in his curls, ignoring his complaints about letting himself wash his hands first.

‘Am I silly for missing you, even though it’s only been an hour?’

He refuses to be distracted by the affection in her voice.

‘But what about Iwaizumi?’ he frowns, hesitation still poisoning the well of thoughts in his mind.

Perhaps it’s a testament to how well they’ve grown to know each other that she doesn’t need to read the silent subtext of his statement. She smiles, bringing his palm flat against her chest, does not answer until his pulse matches the steady beat of her heart.

‘I love you , Omi’, she tells him. Her heartbeat does not quicken, her smile does not waver. ‘You told me not to long ago to always be upfront with you about what I want so I’m going to be honest with you now - Iwaizumi is only ever going to be my past, and I want you from now on’.

If her heart were a compass, the steady beat of her heart tells him, it would point only towards him.

‘That is – if you’ll have me’, she adds, a shadow of doubt suddenly appearing on her face.

‘Don’t be ridiculous’, he scoffs, burying his nose to breathe in the familiar scent of vanilla in her hair. ‘Who else would I rather have than you?’

Who else would he be lucky enough to call his home – a woman with a heart large enough to fit a whole ocean within its depths, with kindness in her eyes and mirth in her smiles.

She laughs in spite of the salt in her throat and water in her eyes, leaning on her toes in a vain attempt to reach his face. He lifts her into her arms, laughs when she squeals indignantly as her feet only find air, toppling them both onto the couch where he can seat her between his legs, press kisses to her cheeks.

She’ll tell him later that Iwaizumi came looking for her because he’s never outgrown his overprotective streak, and he’s truly happy for her - for them, because they’ve both moved on with their separate lives. And she ended up agreeing to attend his and Oikawa’s wedding on one condition – that an invitation is extended to him, Sakusa Kiyoomi, to attend with her as his date.

He’ll tell her later that he’s happy to attend the wedding with her, just not to expect him to smile in any wedding pictures. And more importantly, he’ll tell her in his plain way that the list of expectations he has of their relationship has expanded yet again.

He’ll lay out his dreams of a pair of matching golden rings to bind them to lifelong companionship, of hellspawn of their own and a dog, maybe two.

He’ll ask her if it’s too much for him to ask of her.

She’ll tell him that she’s willing to give him everything he asks for and more.

It’s Miya Shino’s ninth birthday party.

He’s retired from volleyball proper, and is thankful he insisted on getting a business degree from Chuo University before going pro, because it comes in handy working alongside Kuroo Tetsuro at the volleyball association.

Miya Atsumu insists on inviting him to the party, though he supposes he’s invited not by virtue of being a former teammate, but because he’s also Shino’s uncle by marriage now. The thought that he’s related to Miya Atsumu, however distant and most definitely not by blood, still fills him with dread.

The birthday girl is a little less imbued with her father’s chaotic energy this time, though she still squeals when her birthday cake is unveiled – though to be fair it’s less a cake, more a tower of cupcakes with cream cheese frosting spelling out her name.

‘Thank you Auntie!’ Shino cries, flinging her arms around her. Kiyoomi flinches at the sight of anyone, even his nine year old niece, coming in close contact with his extremely pregnant wife, but a sharp glare from her subdues any complaint he dares to make.

He fusses over her the minute he has the chance to corral her away from the clutches of Miya Shino. ‘Are your feet hurting? What about your back? I don’t know why you insist on walking so much when you know the doctor said you should be on bed rest soon’.

‘Stop fussing, Omi! The baby and I will be fine’, she replies, exasperated. ‘This is the last social event scheduled before I pop and I’m determined to enjoy it while I can.’ Then she scuttles off faster than he imagines her frame allows, leaving him floundering in her wake.

‘Just let her be’, Miya Atsumu laughs, slapping his back. Kiyoomi is on the verge of pointing out - pot, meet kettle, reminding Atsumu that the last time Kaiyo was pregnant, Atsumu didn’t stop fretting until she went into labour and delivered a healthy baby boy. But then he remembers the grief etched into Atsumu’s face when Kaiyo miscarried in the stands during a game, so he holds his tongue and rolls his eyes instead.

‘I’m just worried she’s pushing herself too hard’, he admits in a rare bout of vulnerability.

Atsumu smiles, genuine for once. ‘Those crazy women, eh? They’re always gonna drive us up the wall, but they’re worth every minute of it.’

He looks at her, belly swollen with their first child, peach blossoms blooming in her cheeks. His past self would never imagine that he’d find this much joy and contentment in being a husband and a father, but then again his past self was satisfied coming home alone day after day to a cold apartment. He knows better now - life is so better when he has her, sharing stories of their day of over steaming mugs of tea at their kitchen countertop, listening to her hum as she bakes treats for the weekend, warmth and laughter and love abound in their cosy apartment for two, soon to be three.

So feeling vaguely drunk though he hasn’t had a drop of alcohol in the months since she whispered during their anniversary dinner that they were expecting, Kiyoomi laughs aloud.

Atsumu lifts his eyebrows in surprise.

‘She really, really is’, Kiyoomi says, breaking into an unguarded smile.

If you wanna know more about the backstory of the reader - check out The Astrophile, and if you wanna know more about Miya Atsumu’s relationship with his wife, check out Storm Chaser.

As always, reblogs and/or comments are so very appreciated <3

Taglist:

@snoozless @softsakusa @moondaius (yeon i’ll be shameless and tag you cos I know you’re an Omi stan!)

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digitalvoidheart · 3 years ago

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Proud indeed...

°°°°°°°°

The black cat is back. Same place same time as always. Ccino figured out why.

Ever since this fluffy black cat appeared at his quaint shop at the boardwalk, he's noticed it avoiding all the cat treats he has offered to it, only giving it a tiny sniff and turning away. Trying to figure out why it refuses to eat was quite a challenge considering he has to run his coffee shop and follow the stray cat. His luck did turn for the better later.

Ever since realising that cats liked to bask in his shop when the weather gets too hot, he replaced the front screen door to have a pet door. It was small enough that during one evening, the little fuzzball came dashing through it, covered in scratches and its fur matted. On the other side through the pet door were a pair of sharp canine jaws snapping uncontrollably to try grab the injured kitty behind boxes. Ccino realised the situation, chasing the dog away before tending to his new visitor.

They were feral at first, not surprising since one of their eye was scratched up and closed to reduce pain. After several minutes of coaxing, sweet words and promises, the teal eyed kitty gave him a chance to tend to his wounds (it was a boy, Ccino found out).

For the next few days, during a visit to the vet, Ccino named the kitty "Night" because of his beautiful black fur. The vet insisted on calling him 'Nightmare' due to his feral nature and resistance against the doctor. Albeit being a stray, his only injuries were his body and right eye now permanently blind. No problems with emaciation or parasites in his luscious fur. It put Ccino on edge but he shrugged it off later.

He then decided to adopt the fuzzy kitty, even going as far as to getting him toys of his own liking and an adorable belled-collar that even Night loved.

Nightmare (Ah-he meant Night. Guess the nickname stuck) didn't usually show affection much, only the occasional twisting around his legs (though it could be mistaken for scenting Ccino as his) and purring whenever Ccino pets him and gives him wet food. Although it came to a halt when Night decided to stop eating again, going out more often than staying indoors at night.

Ccino, with nothing to do at night and having no idea on Night's history, followed him one day without the kitty's knowledge. Night only stopped his journey when he figured out Ccino was following him, returning to the Café only to repeat the next day.

Being extra careful this time, Ccino followed him and surprisingly, he stopped at the empty docks. Thinking he might've been caught again, Ccino decided to walk away. Until sounds of something emerging from the water stole his attention.

A skull, connected to a strong skeletal frame and glowing sanguine tail, looked up at his pet cat. A skeleton mermaid! His cat is friends with a mermaid!

The mermaid's gentle male voice was soothing as it spoke to Night.

"Hello there, beautiful. Been a while, where've you been? What's this? A collar? That's wonderful news! You found an owner!" A soft mewl from Night as he headbutted the outstretched hand of the mer. "Haha. Alright, you've been forgiven. Why are you closing one eye though? Did a bad dog hurt you?" A grumbling purr "That's not good. At least you got an owner. They'll keep you safe. You can come here whenever you want too!"

Ccino wanted to go there, but he didn't want to risk ruining this adorable reunion. He should leave. If Night decides not to return, that'll be alright. Its not like Ccino didn't know how to live without an amazing pet, or emotional support, or-

"Hey! I found your favourite type of fish! The one from that shiny box you gave me! Hang on." A quick dive and an equally speedy return from the red mer scared his kitty. "Pffft, you got scared," a growl emitted from Night. The half skeleton put up his hands defensively, "alright you egotistic and proud cat, you weren't. Don't scratch attack me or no minnow- or whatever the box said this was." He handed out a pile of fresh Minnow to Nightmare before resting his head on his hands on the dock, watching Nightmare eat.

Minnow... That was the flavour of wet food Nightmare preferred. It was funny to think Night brought a can of wet food to the mermaid monster to get more. The cheeky bastard. No wonder he's not slimming down. Though Ccino learned one fact about Night's secret friend. This mermaid knows how to read.

He sighed as Night nudged one back to him "As much as I love to share with you, I already ate. Plus, I prefer Salmon that tiny fry." Night gave him another guttural growl as he scarfed down the fish. "Jeez, fine. I think I should call you Proudy for your demanding nature and anger towards insults." He picked up one fish and swallowed it.

Looking behind at the sea as Night finished the last of the fish, he sighed, "time you go back to your new home, kitten. Your owner must be worried" the red mermaid reminded Night. With a small drop of his tiny head, the mer chuckled lightly, petting Night and taking a look at his belled collar. "Well Night, I'll be waiting as always. Goodbye." And the handsome mer dove back in the ocean.

-*-

The next night was the same as the day (or should he say night) before yesterday. Night didn't return. Killer figured that would happen. He guessed he grew too attached with the once stray cat which didn't fear him like the rest, his bravery and pride is one he looks up to greatly.

He shouldn't stay. After all, Night didn't return- maybe might never... Pushing himself off the edge of the docks, he began to leap into the waters.

That is until he heard a little familiar growl.

Turning back, there he was. Little Night. The little adorable kitty cat with an equally adorable backpack. That was new.

"What's this about, little Night?" He chuckled, letting his hand wander and open the little clasp holding the bag close as Night Nuzzled his phalanges. Inside was a rolled up paper, likely a message.

Being a nosey and curious mer, Killer opened it. As he read it, he was surprised the message was for him!

Dear Mermaid,

My name is Ccino (si-seeno? Keeno? Cheeno? Killer didn't know how to pronounce it). I'm Night's owner. Please do not fret. I promise not to tattle of your existence. It is between Night and me and you. I only want to thank you for keeping this kitty safe. I shall leave a special something every night for you under the docks. Please accept my gratitude.

Ccino.

Looking around, he only saw Night standing with a puffed chest like the proud creature he is. No sign of any human or monster in sight. Deciding to humour the message, he dove under the docks. There was a small crevice where rocks resided, on top of them was a platter with circular white balls.

Picking one up, it was kinda squishy. Giving it a sniff proved it was edible from a fresh fish scent. Killer popped it into his mouth and bit into its chewy surface. The burst of flavour was an instant flood of fresh Salmon. He scarfed down the others, loving them just as equally. He made sure to leave one before reuniting at the docks with the pretty black cat. He pushed the white chewy fish ball to his friend, only to be surprised when he nudged it back.

It became a small back and forth game until Night gave his signature growl, stopping the game as Killer took the fish ball and downed it making the kitty relax in satisfaction.

He laughed. "I guess not all landwalkers are bad. I mean you don't look like you lost your spunk at all!" Petting his friend, glad he wasn't abused and became fearful like the rest. No. Night was brave. Tilting his tiny head upwards like a king on his throne to show he isn't and will never be hurt "a proud creature indeed".

°°°°°°°°°

Day 2 of Fluffynightkiller week

Did this all mid class and during day 1 so the ending looks very rushed. I apologise if it isn't that nice...

Although since its still mermay, I added a smol story with kitty nm and fishy friend killer! No drawing tho. This was a last second idea. Sorry. ^^"

Fluffynightkiller week by @help-im-a-gay-fish

#Void writes #DigitalVoidHeart #Nightmare #Killer #Ccino #Fluffynightkiller #Fluffynightkiller week #Fluffynightkiller week 2021 #Mermay #Fishy killer #Kitty Nightmare

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onlyhereforangst · 4 years ago

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WWR

i mean i only had three weeks to get it done so naturally i’m finishing it three days before the next ep airs, would you expect anything less?

Ok we start off hot with a subtly jealous Nick scene and I love it. Ellie is like stunned that such a thing even exists “a covid crush” because lets be honest, she probably has no eyes for anyone else at this point - even if it’s been a YEAR (well 10ish months) a whole ass YEAR since the jail cell scene and can I just tell you I am mad about that. Why they do us dirty and skip a whole dang year?? Why can’t we quick flash forward every couple of months?? I mean I know it has felt like an entire year has gone by in a week, RIP 2020 no one will miss you, but like I wanted to see it 😩 and I better get at least some kind of explanation for whatever the F has gone down between these two from “well what are we gonna to about that as we stand 5 inches apart” to now. I demand this explanation.

Anyways, back on track here - Nick is jealllllllous BUT different kind of jealous for this man because for once he’s not all dark and broody about it. He’s over here willingly, *willingly* bringing up said jealousy aaaand he’s smiling about it (!!!) because despite them still not being together (where’s the Gibbs’ headslap when you actually need it amiright) he’s not worried about this crush. He knows her feelings and his so it’s like yeah I’m a little jealous but also I’m gooood, I got this one in the bag 😏 (also can I just say I need Ellie to show him he does not in fact ‘have this in the bag’ if he’s gonna act like a little shit and push her away).

This whole thing about babysitting and not wanting to take care of other living beings is very very very interesting considering they both loved taking care of Charlie (Cody, I blame this on pregnancy brain thank you @thekeyboardninja) in the end AND EVEN TALKED ABOUT PARENTING EVENTUALLY. So like, where did we backtrack??? Excuse me who allowed you to do such things. I’m feeling like they likely backtracked (this was s16 after all) because once again, the dust settled after their super close vulnerable moment and they went and hid behind those stupid walls they both have and somehow convinced themselves that being alone was better for them. IT’S A LIE YALL IT’S A LIE. You being together and taking care of each other is exactly what you need and it’ll be perfect and amazing and just DO IT ALREADY 😭

The team moment with Jimmy is so 🥺 and throughout the episode. I’m not going to touch on that stuff much because this is ellick focused but also because I truly do not need to sob again (even if I called Breena dying from covid like months ago and knew exactly what was coming with all of it but you know, I still cry, it’s fine, I’m fine).

Ellie knowing Gibbs uses a weighted blanket and Nick doubting her is just comical to me 😂 mini side note before we get into how they have a thiiiiiing and it’s called always getting dibs on the elevator in tandem for months and McGee HOW CAN YOU NOT TELL. These two are so in sync even if they are still spectacularly failing at talking this out & taking that next step. Also months of Gibbs riding down the elevator with just those two…….the third wheeling must be slowly killing the old dude, give him a break you two.

Tell me why these two have the exact same stance in the bullpen- could you be more obvious?? You rubbing off on each other. And then the walking up to the barbershop scene I caaaan’t. Ellie is SO flirty. Like so flirty. Who is this new Ellie and why do I love her so much. But Nick gives it right back too and her little giggle with shoulder shrug is just perfect. She’s fiiiiinally letting herself *feel* more and let it be out in the open and it’s just so great. I love seeing this character development for her 🥺 walls coming down, being more forward with her flirting and feelings and it’s all I’ve ever needed. Also we’re gonna take a small detour into Nick’s pants I mean the notebook he casually stashes in the front of his jeans like it doesn’t make a person look RIGHT. THERE. Don’t ask me why it’s hot, I don’t know the answers to the universe, it just is. We knoooooow Ellie is loving it’s location there, she wouldn’t mind flirtatiously taking it out at the next stop to “check” where they needed to go. You know, just helping a partner out- don’t worry Nick she’s got it handled 😏😏🔥🔥 Ok back from our detour, when Nick asks if she’s got him and she answers so quickly and almost with the undercurrent of “of course I do how is that even a question I’ll protect you until the day I die” (yes this is what she says), I love.

Ok since when does Nick like puzzles and how does Ellie know this??? He was most certainly NOT a puzzle kind of guy when he first joined the team so are you telling me that maybe Ellie and her nerdiness (come on there’s no way she doesn’t love puzzles) got Nick into puzzles??? Also also also does everyone remember that time in covid lockdown where literally everyone and their mother did five thousand puzzles because we couldn’t leave our houses? Soooooo is this a nod to Ellie & Nick spending some time together doing puzzles (at presumably Ellie’s apartment because she’d be the one to have said puzzles) and turns out Nick loves them even more than she did???? Is this what you’re making me read in between the lines NCIS? Because I am most certainly ok with this.

Ooooooooh-kay this 8pm thing for Nick. SO many possibilities. It’s been confirmed it wasn’t Ellie (which I won’t lie was my immediate wish) via Steven Binder on twitter (which I also won’t lie, my angst heart loves it’s something else). My take is it’s something (not another girl though) personal- I would *love* if it was therapy or some type of personal development thing. I think he realizes over the past year he has involuntarily retreated emotionally from Ellie even if outwardly it doesn’t show (no personal space and continued flirting). I think he *knows* he’s doing it emotionally and yet can’t figure out how to stop himself from doing it- like on the outside of his body watching him make a dumb mistake but unable to change a damn thing. SO I feel like whatever this 8pm thing is will play into that. It’ll somehow be related to Nick diving deeper into himself and trying to get more in touch with the parts of himself he loves to ignore/hide/push down. That could be therapy, a self-help class, getting in touch with family (but I don’t think he would feel the need to get secretive about this. i mean he already brought up Lucia to this dude, why would he all of a sudden be ashamed of a dinner/meeting with his mom or dad or something? i just don’t buy that). But anyways back to the point- it’s something Nick feels the need to hide in shame because that’s how he’s been conditioned as an undercover agent who feels the need to be tough and strong for everyone and being vulnerable is WAY too scary (helloooooo enneagram 8 nice to meet you I’m also an enneagram 8 Nick isn’t it fun).

I don’t know why them talking so casually on the phone, while Nick is getting ready for the day no less is so damn pleasing to me. The simple domesticity of it all because it’s totally something one would do with their spouse is just 🥰🥰 And then their little freaking smiles can THEY NOT. Ellie you like glazed donuts?? Is this some kind of hint? Innuendo? Just a glaringly obvious chance to flirt and you don’t give a rat’s ass you’re in the middle of the bullpen with Gibbs’ listening to your conversation so you’ll take that chance anyways because you’re head over heels for this guy? Either way Nick’s little smirk oof. I think he takes it as all three of those things and he’s *perfectly* ok with it. UNTIL until, there’s always an until with you Nicholas god damn. Ellie nervously asking about NIck’s apartment 🥺 she may be head over heels but she’s still a little shy and unsure. She thought that jail cell moment would break things through for them and yet she’s- not to quote Taylor swift or anything because why on earth would I do that- right where you left her. WHY NICHOLAS WHY. Since we know Ellie has seen and is very familiar with the inner workings of Nick’s apartment come 16x10, I presume he moved, and it sounds like recently. From the looks of this new place it’s niiiiice. For someone who doesn’t like a lot of things (see s14 when he joins team I don’t remember the exact ep sorry) - he sure managed to settle into that apartment quite nicely. It’s furnished well, it’s homey for DC. And if he’s moved into it since after the jail cell, letting Ellie in is likely a big step in his eyes. But we know this has got to be a weird shift for Ellie. Seemingly so comfortable in each others’ spaces and now she hasn’t even been invited over?? Yeah you smell something fishy girl just like I do. Even if Nick has a cute ass smirk at the end of his little charade to hang up the phone. Wipe that smirk off your face sir you owe us I mean Ellie an explanation and a visit to your apartment. SHE WANTS TO BE YOUR HOUSEGUEST. SHE WANTS TO BE IN YOUR HOUSE. SHE WANTS TO BE IN YOUR PANTS WHILE IN THAT HOUSE. JUST LET HER ALREADY. Ok I’m done, moving on.

Ok the guys opening the doors dramatically to let the one (1) woman on the team make a super badASS entrance is just 🔥🔥🔥 yes love it.

Excuse me why does Ellie feel the need to completely turn her body from the rest of the team/bullpen to be 100% faced on Nick. Body language don’t lie bitch I see you. And Nick stealing a glance at Ellie before having to answer McGee’s question about roommates…..interesting, very interesting sir. You thinking about how she’s going to react to some rando being in your apartment AND staying the night before she has?? You thinking about making her a permanent roommate?? But of course he turns to quick humor for a hot sec because this is Nick and then shockingly, like actually shockingly (is this that personal development, soul-searching, deep dive into emotional wonderland rubbing off on him??? Is it working is this foreshadowing???) he goes and gets deep on ‘em. And McGee calls him on it and I love it, I really think this is some foreshadowing here. I think we’re seeing some of the work Nick is doing on himself, getting himself ready for as serious as a relationship as he knows it’ll be with Ellie, paying off. He’s thinking about ~*emotional*~ consequences to actions and OOF yes. The growth, I live for the fucking growth. “It’s not easy to get through the tough transitions on your own” you say as you literally tried to do that for actual YEARS until you met this team. Until you met Ellie. Until you realized that emotional fallout was a real thing and you my friend are a terrible victim to it. Because guess what- exhibit A is right here about to ask you to dinner and you gonna turn her down. You quite literally tried to get through a tough transition (re: Ellie’s kidnapping & the two bombs) by yourself. That dust settled and you immediately emotionally retreated, not physically- emotionally. You went back to what you always knew, the lone wolf on your own, endure the tough transition. And yes you’ve been doing some work on yourself, but now- now you realize it. You can’t do work on yourself alone. You can’t go through this shit alone. You need your support system- your person. But that thought truly terrifies you. You’ve realized it but are you ready to act on it? Not quite yet. You might be close, but you still can’t bring yourself to be honest with her yet. When Ellie nervously asks Nick if he wants to grab a bite you can feel her start to (it’s probably been there quite a while but she’s tried to ignore the feeling of him emotionally shutting her out and pushing her away but the houseguest thing brought it back full force) really worry about where they stood. She won’t completely admit it to herself because she knows what was said in the jail cell wasn’t a lie or a dramatization for either of them, but that worry that’s been creeping in like a vine is taking hold. Nick saying “there’s something I need to take care of” hmmmmm I feel like this is SO vague. And probably purposely done so by the writers but I just - if it was solely him bringing the dude back to his daughter’s why wouldn’t he just tell Ellie that? What would be the harm in her knowing this? She’s aware you’ve bonded so why would he not just say that? I feel like there was definitely something else he thought he would go do after it. With all the talk of tough transitions and then his obviously pre-made plans to drop this guy off, I just feel like there was some other task he had planned before McGee called him. And him discussing the reset button (I’ll get to this) just kind of solidifies that for me. He’d been doing a LOT of reflection that day and he had something more major planned, I just wish I knew what 😩 Ok back to Ellie’s response, she’s honestly shocked and a little confused at his ominously vague answer. And I’d wager a tiny bit of hurt is in that expression too. All those vines of worry taking hold? Yeah, that’s why. They even just tightened and made her speechless for a second. The emotional withdrawal she feared was being confirmed in front of her very eyes. Because (at least on our screens) the last time Nick turned down a bite to eat with her? Oh yeah, he was dating fucking Elena. (Once again, I don’t think he’s got another girl but y’all this is the parallel Ellie could easily draw seeing as it was only a few months ago, supposedly.) And he even looks almost guilty about turning her down, like he knows it’s probably hurting her (and their relationship) but he can’t help it. He hates that he’s doing it and the words coming from his mouth (good lord it’s like the end of 17x07 with overprotective/you’re like a sister to me all over again) but he can’t stop it. And then my heart breaks for Ellie when she tries to put on a brave, strong face that claims she isn’t bothered by his rejection yet we all knoooooow 😭😭😭 He gives her a small little “night” and she’s just standing there wondering where the hell she went wrong with this, how she read them all wrong.

Ahhhhh the glorious reset button, ya love to see it. When he claims he has the opposite problem you can see his faraway look in his eye. You know *exactly* what, or better yet who, he’s thinking about in that moment. He knows he has to stop avoiding his emotional growth with Ellie. He knows he has to stop hitting the reset button the second things between them get real. And I think he’s known this for a while now but is finally, finally coming to grips with taking real steps forward. Taking steps to embrace the vulnerability he’s terrified of. Finally putting that reset button away 🥺

Ellie knowing Nick has one tie is just another swoon moment. Yes I could get dirty with that (see my tags on previous gifsets for proof) but like, also this is so real of them? They know so damn much about each other it’s insane. She may not have even been in his apartment yet but she knows he owns one tie. Like- come on. Nick you think you’re emotionally distant from this woman but my god it’s the opposite. You two are so intertwined you don’t even realize it as you chuckle and try once again to avoid thinking about that reset button. And then Jimmy goes and reads that letter and I sob. Yes I sobbed. Like I said not getting into this part because my pregnancy hormones can’t handle this (I’m barely rewatching this part with audio ok). But Jimmy’s words voiced over a shot of ellick…take my heart why don’t you. “To hear a laugh, and know that your life would change for ever” like come ON. First, Jimmy you slay me and second, all I can picture is Ellie chuckling with Nick in the bullpen showing him the clicker settings and Nick loving it. Nick your life would be changed forever in that moment I hope you knew. Ellie, pulling her arm around Nick’s for strength, support, I just-. Despite the turmoil she’s been going through, the doubts and the worry that’s crept in- she still feels it. She still feels love for this man and knows her life was changed forever when she met him. No matter how long she tried to deny it, she knows. And that little piece of her that desperately clings to Nick getting his head out of his ass and opening up emotionally to her, that piece decides to break that sliver of personal space and lean on him for support. She needs to touch him- the man who she can’t picture losing like Jimmy lost Breena. She needs to feel him still there, even if he hasn’t completely realized his life changed forever because of her- she has. Gripping his arm for the comfort it gives in knowing he’s still by her side, his hand brushing hers as an involuntary “I’ve got you” (even a reset button pusher like Nick can’t help his reflexes). The gravity of the fragility of life weighing heavily on them both, they hold each other. They’ve got each other. And good god is that poetry we just need them to actually fucking TALK ABOUT IT 😩😭

I don’t know if I even have side notes but I do appreciate NCIS paying homage to the utter grief this pandemic has been. Jimmy being the one to lose a loved one was quite honestly the perfect scenario to me. It shows just how cruel this pandemic has been, ripping even the most optimistic, happy people down to their knees in grief. It’s something that shouldn’t be glossed over and I do hope they continue to have this arc of struggling with grief throughout the season. I think it is so relatable and refreshing to see played out legitimately on the screen. I don’t want happy, go-lucky stale content. I want something real and something tangible. Yes I love my mindless entertainment, but it’s also nice to see *real* drama on a TV drama. At least, that’s my opinion 🤷🏻‍♀️ I’d apologize but isn’t that why you’re reading this to begin with? 😘😘

#ellick #ncis #wwr #18x07 #torres x bishop

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theaviskullguy · 3 years ago

Text

What's a mermaid to a king? A lover, apparently

i wrote this a while ago on my Wattpad, bringing this here for Mermay!

Ship: Emperor x Gloves

Fantasy AU!

Please, enjoy!

-----

It was a simple run along the cliffsides, but a misstep caused Emperor to fall off of them. It happened too fast, it seemed. The blonde let out a cry for help but no one seemed to care.

Even though the cliffs had water, Emperor was sure that when he hit the surface he would die-the cliffs were high up.

So, he closed his eyes and braced for the impact. And when it came, he passed out.

..Only to awake on the shore.

Emperor opened his eyes, rather groggily, and saw startling, pure coral pink eyes-sclera and all- staring into his own. The next thing he noticed was tan skin, and seaweed green hair and...scales?

The creature smiled, showing sharp teeth. "Great! Thought you'd never wake up, two-legged!"

The blond was confused, obviously, and sat up, pushing the green beast off in the process. "What...What happened to me?" He asked.

"You seemed to take a nasty dive off of the cliffs. I found you, swam you to the surface so you could breathe, and brought you here!" They explained, lifting...a green betta-fish like tail.

Emperor backed up. What this real? Did he actually get saved by a freaking mermaid?

The mermaid only tilted their head. "What? Did I scare you?" A look of realization dawned on their face. "Are you scared of me?"

"No, I'm not. In fact, I am in your dept." Emperor answered, still a bit shaken. "Just...I thought mermaids were nothing more than a child's nursery tale, not real beings.."

"...Guess that makes sense." The mermaid shrugged, and held up and out a hand. "The name's Gloves. Nice to meet you!"

The blond took it and gave it a firm shake. "Emperor Castilo."

Gloves' eyes widened in excitement. "Castilo? As in the Royal Family Castilo?"

Emperor only nodded and Gloves smiled widely. "Oh, sweet!! I get to tell my friends I rescued a prince!"

Said prince chuckled. "I suppose you do. Now...need help getting back into the water"

Gloves nodded, and chuckled a bit sheepishly. "Yeah... Will I ever see you again?"

Emperor nodded. "Meet me at the cove tomorrow, when the sun rises. I'll bring something for you then, alright?"

"Okay!" They smiled, and Emperor scooped them up bridal style and walked until he was waist deep in the water, and released Gloves into it.

Gloves gave a small wave, before swimming off into the ocean.

---

Days of meeting at the cove turned into weeks, into months and soon, a year. Every morning, Emperor and Gloves would meet at sunrise and talk well into the day. On a few occasions, the prince would even get in the water and swim around with the mermaid.

Gifts were given both ways; Emperor gave Gloves beautiful golden jewelry that wouldn't really weight them down or get in the way of swimming if they wore the pieces correctly. In return, Gloves gifted Emperor with small trinkets from their little collection of junk that fell to the bottom of the sea, or some beautiful piece of coral, a shell, or even an occasional pearl. The prince would tell the mermaid the object's name and purpose or treasure the object dearly, putting it up in display in his room.

Slowly but surely, Emperor fell in love with Gloves, finding himself wanting to be able to run away from the stress and responsibilities that came with being royalty and spending the rest of his life by the seashore, with his fishy lover.

But, one day, Gloves did not come. Emperor waited until the sun set.

For weeks the mermaid didn't come. The prince felt his heart break every day his friend was a no show.

Two months after Emperor last saw Gloves, his father called him to a freak show of sorts. To see what scum his people would be.

The prince wished he could save each and every being there. And then... someone caught his eye.

In a small tank, there was a mermaid with coral pink eyes and hair and a tail of seaweed green, golden adornments on their wrists. They were curled up, as small as they could make themselves, but even then their tail had to drape over the side of their tank.

It was Gloves.

Emperor ran over to the tank, his father following.

"Now, that is a mermaid. They're terrible creatures," His father started. "Sabotaging our fisherman's hauls. This one got caught in a net trying doing just that. Don't stare at it for too long. It'll think you're a meal."

The prince just stared at Gloves with a look so sorrowful you'd think his brother would have died. He reached out a hand to touch the glass and Gloves put one against his.

The king scoffed and walked away, leaving the two practically unsupervised as Gloves poked their head out from their tank. "You came."

Emperor nodded. "But it seems a bit too late... The show is moving out tomorrow and I have until sunrise to help you all escape."

"Midnight." A separate caged being said. Emperor turned to face them.

It was a kitsune, with 6 fluffy orange tails and in the form of a human with ginger hair and emerald green eyes. "Come at midnight. No one guards us then and the keys are left lying around."

The prince nodded yet again. "Alright. Just...try and stay alive."

Gloves nodded. "Will do."

------------

The full moon shone high as Emperor snuck out of his window, a cloak over his figure. He headed to the freak show with purpose. He needed to save his people. And most of all, he needed to save Gloves. No aquatic creature should be stuck in a tank that small.

With the lockpick he was given by the mermaid once upon a time, he picked the lock of the building and headed in, to find most of the creatures asleep, and the hall completely devoid of guards.

Perfect.

Emperor took the keys from the stand they were on, and unlocked the cages. Some beasts simply flew away. Some thanked him and others used claws or talons to help with others.

Soon all of the cages were empty and the beasts were freed, but... Gloves was no where to be seen.

The prince felt himself begin to panic, but the kitsune brushed his shoulder with his tail. "The back room. They were taken in there after getting sick."

"Sick?" Emperor asked, rather concerned.

"Mermaids can't survive any part of them being dried for more than a few weeks. They got deathly dehydrated." The kitsune stated.

Emperor nodded, and raced to the back room, unlocking it.

Inside, there was a small but simple pool, and in it was an unconscious Gloves, who looked almost deathly pale. The prince bit his lip to keep from loosing his cool, and knelt down to gently shake the mermaid. "..Gloves?"

Gloves stirred, and opened their eyes. "...E-Emp?"

Emperor nodded. "It's me, Gloves. Listen, I'm going to get you out, but I need to lift you out of the pool. Alright?"

The mermaid nodded and allowed themself to be lifted by the prince, who dashed out of the door and ran to the ocean. The cove, more specifically.

As the two arrived, the sun was starting to rise, reflecting off of the water with a golden light as Emperor lowered Gloves in it. "There..."

Gloves smiled, already starting to look better, "Thanks, Emp... And, can I ask you something?"

Emperor nodded. "What is it?"

"..Can I kiss you? Not in a romantic way I promise! Just.. A mermaid's kiss can grant someone the ability to breathe underwater and I want to show you something.

"...S-sure?"

The mermaid nodded and leaned up, their lips being met by Emperor's own as the prince felt the power flow through him. And then he was pulled into the water by Gloves. "A-ACK-"

Gloves giggled, their hair billowing now they were both fully underwater. "Gotcha!"

Emperor huffed, taking a deep breath to find he really could breathe under the water now. "...I'll get you for that."

"But for now, follow me?"

The prince nodded and followed the mermaid as they led him to a smallish cave-on the outside at least. On the inside, it was huge and full of wonderful things. Even a makeshift vanity on a shelf-like rock formation, using fragments of mirrors. Much of the jewelry Emperor gave to Gloves was on this shelf, but other pieces were on other shelves or adorning Gloves. The prince guessed this was their home.

Gloves stopped after finding a bottle full of some strange gold liquid. "I got this a while ago at a market." They explained. "I... I wanted to give it to you to drink."

Emperor raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Well, it's apparently a potion that can turn a human into a mermaid. You often expressed how stressful the prince life is... I thought it'd help." Gloves explained. "I could help you with learning the basics of stuff, and you could even live with me!"

This seemed to be something out of a dream! But, Emperor wasn't willing to go. Not yet. "..I'll consider it, Gloves. I still have things to do on the surface."

Gloves looked a bit down, but nodded. "I get it... Well, take it in case you decide to drink it." The handed the potion to Emperor, who nodded and placed it in his pouch.

-----

The elixir was kept in a locked safe of sorts and almost forgotten. A few months after that exchange, Gloves didn't bring it up. But Emperor had been shown more and more of the watery neighborhood Gloves lived in; from the motherly siren and his selkie husband, to a sea nymph in love with a kitsune who lived on the surface, the prince had become as well known and respected as if he actually lived in the area.

Every night, Emperor would consider packing a bag and writing a note and drinking the elixir, to live there with Gloves permanently. And each time he decided not to drink just yet.

That all changed one day.

"Son," The king said. "I'd like you to meet your fiancé-"

Emperor tuned out her name, being frozen in fear. He didn't want this at all! He just... all he wanted was to spend his life with his mermaid friend!

So the moment he could, he sprinted up to his room and grabbed a waterproof bag, filling it with keepsakes of his brothers, along with the things Gloves gave him and the rest of his adornments (He wished to give some to his new neighbors, along with keep at least two matching rings for himself and Gloves). He grabbed a piece of paper and a quill, writing a note that simply he was running away, and to not look for him.

And with that, he unlocked the safe containing the elixir and headed out the window and to the cove with his bag.

When the prince reached it, he smiled in relief. Carefully, he stripped himself of his clothes and folded them to set on the rocks, keeping his circlet. He opened the bottle of the potion.

"Well, bottoms up.." Emperor said, to only himself. He downed the liquid in one fell gulp and jumped into the water.

He felt a weird sensation in his lower half but he didn't look until it was gone, and he saw a gorgeous and elaborate yellow mermaid tail, with specs of iridescent purple scales. Upon looking at his arms and feeling along his spine, Emperor noticed he grew fins as well, along with fin-like ears much like Gloves, though the ex-prince felt he paled in comparison to the mermaid of his affections.

He took his bag from the shore and quickly swam to where Gloves' cave was, his tail beating the water as hard as he could to get their faster.

When he arrived, he simply knocked on the stone, and was greeted with a tackle of seaweed green as Gloves hugged him tightly. "EMP!!!"

Emperor chuckled and embraced the betta fish back. "I missed you, Gloves."

Gloves smiled and looked Emperor up and down. "You drank it. You..."

"What can I say? Why would I not want to stay with the one I love?"

Gloves' face turned a shade of red, and they nuzzled into the crook of Emp's neck. "...I love you too, Emp..."

---------

When Prince, Regent, and their father found the note, a search for Emperor was called for. The kingdom searched far and wide before anyone thought to check the cove. All that they saw left of the kingdom's heir was his royal robes, folded neatly on the rocks with an empty bottle.

As for Emperor himself? He moved in with Gloves, permanently, and the two got together for reals. After a few years the two were married, and had two wonderful children. One was named Princess, and the other, Prince.

Some say the family learned of a way to turn into a humanoid form and roam the land as humans, and returned as the royal family when the kingdom fell to the grasp of chaos, but no one knows for sure.

All we can say, is this truly was a happily ever after.

The end.

-------------

The father shut his book, and the faces of his two children lit up.

"Are you saying you and Zaza are MERMAIDS?" The young girl asked.

The father only laughed. "Don't be silly, Princess. It's simply a story. A child's tale."

The son hugged his plush betta fish. "Y-yeah, sis. It's n-not real."

Princess pouted. "Awww! But that would be so coooooool!!"

"You know what else would be cool?" The father asked. "If you two went to sleep, now. I let you two stay up past your bedtime, your Zaza is going to get mad at me."

The two children nodded. "Night papa!" The son called.

He smiled. "Goodnight, Prince. You two, Princess." He blew out the light, and headed out of the room.

The other parental unit, Zaza, was waiting just outside the door. "Telling the kids the story again. Huh, Emp? "

"Gloves! You startled me there, love." Emperor stated. "And, yes. Princess won't stop thinking it's real."

"Well, who knows?" Gloves placed a kiss on Emperor's cheek. "You thought mermaids were a child's tale and yet you met me."

The king rolled his eyes playfully. "I suppose you're right. Now, it's been ages since we've done a good one, so..."

Gloves raised an eyebrow. "Midnight swim?"

"Midnight swim."

The two lovers headed out of the palace and to the cove, hands intertwined under the moonlight. they stripped away each others clothing as not to ruin it, and dove into the water.

A flash of colors followed, then green and yellow mermaids swam around the large cove, their laughter like springs of fresh water.

They got their happily ever after, after all.

#coroika #splatoon #Galax Writes #coroika Emperor #coroika gloves #emperor x gloves #gloves x emperor #empergloves #Lemon Lime #mermaid AU #mermay writing #mermay

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rein-ette · 4 years ago

Note

I'd be interested to hear some of your headcanons on engport. PS: I love your blog, you really have made it very cute and elegant.

Thank you!!! I'm glad you like it :3 I wasn't sure what hcs you were looking for, so I just did a random collection of ones I haven't seen around. If you wanted more of a narrative of their relationship or something, lemme know.

1. I mentioned this hc here, but I really like the idea of Portugal bringing Arthur gifts from all over the world, not in the way someone does to deliberately woo a lover (although as they got older there was a certain undertone of that that they laughed about), but more like the way a cat brings back dead birds and stuff; it’s just cuz they love you and wanna feed you and take care of you and share their precious things with you. Port started doing this when they first met, and originally it was just bringing him a pretty stone or a little wildflower. The one thing Arthur truly yearned for, however, were books. I think Arthur is someone who truly loves learning and intellectual pursuits, but because of his upbringing and work he was never able to go university until the late 1600s.The best ones during the Middle Ages, in any case, were located around the Mediterranean, especially in Italy, as well in the Abbasid Caliphate. So when port started sailing further, he would try to bring Arthur copies of texts such as the Continens Liber, the Canon of Medicine, the Trotula (all medical texts) as well as texts on foreign flora and books like The Book of Knowledge of Ingenious Mechanical Devices by Islamic scholar Ismail al-Jazari, which featured machine automation! In the 13th century!!! These manuscripts were probably harder to find than most jewels or trinkets and Port had to translate the ones in Arabic for Arthur — and secretly, because the inquisition was like, kinda a thing during this time — but it was worth his delight and absolute adoration. These are all, by the way, real books that existed or eventually made their way to and had a great influence on Europe!

2. I don't know why, but I love the idea of Port having a masters degree in English Literature from Oxford. I think his personality is just suitable: thinks unnecesarily deeply about things, sees symbolism in everything, loves playing devil's advocate. He must have gotten it recently as well, since eng lit wasn't a thing in unis until the mid 1800s and Port and Arthur's relationship didn't normalize until after 1974. Anyways yeah, I think Port did it in part because he genuinely likes english literature, and in part because it was a semi-valid way of getting off work and he could spend a year with Arthur. Plus a hot Portuguese man with an Oxford eng lit degree is like, catnip for Arthur.

3. Also a fruk hc, but: England owns a little house on a hill, overlooking the ocean in Calais, France. He’s had it since he owned the entire port of Calais back in the day and it’s kinda of safe house, a place where he can escape and read books and fiddle with his potions and magic and flowers and just be happy. Only a few people know it exist/have been there, and only Francis has ever been inside, when he spent 2 years recovering there during the latter half of WWII (this is stolen directly from newamsterdam's For the Dust to Still Series, which I am forever obsessed with). Despite it being a “special place” for Arthur and Francis, the front gardens are filled with lavender, which Arthur only started planting and tending to in the 20th century. When they lived there together, during the war, Arthur would sometimes just sit silently amidst the flowers. Francis never commented on it.

4. For a more modern hc, when they go on holiday Arthur and Port like to go surfing (mostly Port), freediving, and sometimes scuba diving — and pls don’t hit me with the “Arthur can’t swim”, mans a Type A personality and control freak, and you’re telling me he’s gonna spend his life on the open sea without knowing how to swim? Nah. And no one can tell me that Port doesn’t want see the fishies on the coral reef any chance he gets either. That’s his habitat. When they don’t have time to go abroad they have aquarium dates like the sappy little losers they are. Port has a membership at the Oceanário de Lisboa, because of course he does. They've also gone wreck diving at least twice -- it unsettles them both a little, because they can easily imagine themselves going down with the ship, as well as the men who must have died too -- but that also seems like the kind of emotional masochism those two idiots would be into.

5. Not a relationship hc, but neither of them are afraid of animals. Arthur dislikes big ass spiders, but isn't petrified. Port has no fear at all. At times this has caused a genuine issues.

#engport #hws england #hws portugal #why do my hcs lowkey need historical notes wtf #hws france #my hcs #ask #mr-nauseam

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2seokfan · 4 years ago

Text

Scarlet & Hazel | Ch. 4

pairings: hoseok x reader x yoongi

genre: fluff, very light angst, smut (future)

warnings: mentions of physical abuse

word count: 5.3k

chapters: ch.1, ch.2, ch.3, ch.4

summary:

Just cause you’re living paycheck to paycheck in a tiny apartment even after graduating college doesn’t mean you’re not happy. So what if your best friend is working her dream job making close to six figures every year? So what if she’s in a loving, committed relationship with her perfect boyfriend that you’re 99% sure is going to propose to her sometime next year? It doesn’t matter that your idea of a perfect relationship is a $9.99 bottle of wine on Friday nights while you binge watch Netflix specials.

Ok so maybe you’re a teensy bit miserable. Maybe you have no idea what you’re doing with your life. Maybe all you need to do is accidentally cross paths with two hybrids who will drastically change that.

Meet “Scarlet” and “Hazel”, two of the most gorgeous hybrid men you have ever laid eyes on. With their help, you learn that life is an adventure, a roller-coaster with ups and downs, and you were too preoccupied with yourself to climb out of your own predicament. And hey, you’re not much of a romantic, but with these two, you just might change your mind.

a/n: Y/N gets the surprise of her lifetime today! Also to clarify, The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly is an old cowboy movie with a very famous theme song (just in case some people don’t get the reference). Thank you for being patient! Please let me know if you have any questions or concerns!

tag list: @wilhelminalucinda @ghostkat23 @ayoo-bangtan @sadgurllayha

How come whenever you’re excited for something, time purposely slows down?? It’s like the weekend can’t come fast enough. Each day feels like a whole week and each hour stretches like two. You swear the clock hanging on the wall of your clinic has some sort of personal grudge against you, the second hand moving at the pace of a snail.

You’re currently on the last two hours of your shift. The hustle and bustle of morning appointments have died down but that doesn’t stop the constant train of incoming calls. You wonder if there’s an award out there for maintaining a professional voice after getting asked stupid questions, because you deserve that award, exhibit A being the person you’re dealing with right now. You pick at your nails while you balance the work phone on your shoulder.

“Sorry ma'am we’re actually a hybrid clinic so no, I can’t put your son down for a checkup. Mhm. Mhm. Uh huh.” You peel off a hangnail and flick it into the trash can under your counter. “I understand you're frustrated but none of our doctors specialize in human treatment. May I suggest the hospital? Ok have a good day now. Bye.”

You hang up as a string of expletives are leaving the receiving end of your phone. What part of ‘hybrid clinic’ did she not understand?

You lean back into your office chair, vowing for the 100th time to invest in one of those lumbar support pillows for your poor, aching body. Checking today’s schedule, you see that a first-time client should be coming in any minute now. Her voice had sounded eerily familiar when she called all those days ago, but you didn’t bother to think twice.

Right on cue, you hear the clinic door open. A very familiar arctic fox hybrid is ushered in by her impatient owner.

“Hurry up won’t you! We don’t have all day!”

Yep. That’s blondie alright.

Sylvia has already recognized you, giving you a small smile when her owner isn’t looking. You’re shocked by her appearance, small cuts and bruises adorning her face and a noticeable bandage around her left wrist. You smile back, trying to make her feel as comfortable as possible.

Blondie hasn’t noticed your presence yet, currently rummaging through her gigantic purse for a pen. She freezes when she finally looks up, making eye contact with you.

You both narrow your eyes like it’s some sort of cowboy showdown in the old west, theme song from The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly playing in the background. If it weren’t for the counter in front of you you’d probably be slowly circling each other, hands ready to draw your pistols from your holsters.

Except it’s the 21st century and all you can do is clench your jaw and offer her a steely glare.

“What are you doing here?” Blondie is the first to break the silence.

“I work here,” you say matter of factly.

“Don’t you own hybrids?” Her voice is menacing, but it doesn’t mask her confusion. “How can a receptionist afford two hybrids?”

“I’m here on my off time cause I have nothing else to do.” You find it so much easier to lie to her now that you’ve successfully done it before. No harm in stretching your little fable.

Blondie huffs, having no rebuttal ready.

“Anyways, I need you to fill this out here.” You decide not to push her temper further since you’re at work and need to act civilly. You hand her the basic information form and contact the doctor about their arrival.

While blondie is busy filling out the paperwork, you make quick eye contact with Sylvia, mouthing a silent ‘are you ok?’ to her. She gives you a tense nod but nibbles on her bottom lip and shifts her pupils in blondie’s direction. You can’t forget that look on Sylvia’s face, one of desperation and misery, and you want so badly to pull her out of this situation.

Blondie finishes and hands the papers back to you. You glance down and find her name on the forms. “And Karen,” of course her name is ‘Karen’, “how did Sylvia get these injuries?”

A flicker of panic flashes across her features but it instantly disappears into a frown.

“She fell down the stairs.” Karen snaps, then proceeds to tap her foot impatiently. “Well? I’ve got an appointment??”

You sigh and swallow down the urge to talk back. “Dr. Lao is ready for you. Just head down the hall and into the office on your left.”

Karen puts her pen back in her purse, then grabs her fox by the elbow and pulls her down the hallway, out of sight. When they disappear, you sit back and take the time to process what just happened.

You don’t believe for one minute that Sylvia fell down the stairs. Her injuries seem obviously inflicted by another person, most likely Karen, but you don’t want to jump to conclusions. Since you have no proof, you can’t really report the issue. Also you’re well aware of how corrupted Hybrid Services are and you don’t want to leave Sylvia in their hands.

The phone rings, bringing you back to your senses. Oh yeah, I’m still at work. You remind yourself to google some safe hybrid help centers when you get home. There’s nothing you can do now but you’ll be damned if you won’t try.

The two emerge from the checkup after an hour or so. Karen turns to your counter, face still in her signature scowl as she approaches you.

“I need to schedule a second appointment.” Her tone sounds a little stiff, as if she didn’t want this outcome. “Sylvia will need another checkup for her wrist.” Her entire demeanor is suspicious to you at this point. When you met her for the first time, you were only focused on getting her to stop bothering your two hybrid friends. You regret not noticing her obvious physical aggressiveness.

As the two head out, Sylvia turns back and gives you a small ‘bye’. You melt at how cute she is despite all her injuries. You give her one last wave, determination welling up inside.

You head home and immediately dive to your laptop. Sylvia’s next checkup isn’t till two weeks later so you want to use that time to become as productive as you can in finding the numbers of various hybrid centers. Even though your work revolves around hybrids, you have no personal experience helping any of them out of trouble so you need the advice of professionals. You have no idea what any of these centers can do and you’re aware that your lack of information means you’re starting from scratch but you refuse to sit by and do nothing. Not when something fishy is obviously going on.

You’re surprised to find no decent hybrid centers, even though you live in a pretty big city. Most seem like shady adoption centers that put in the bare minimum amount of effort in taking care of and re-homing their hybrids. One center was so repulsive you’re surprised they’re legally allowed to operate. You click on their ‘About’ page for shits and giggles and the description makes you want to gag. ‘Having problems with your hybrid? Don’t worry! Call this number and we’ll take them off your hands!’ What the actual fuck!? It’s like one of those junk collecting commercials where they take away your old furniture except they’re talking about living, breathing hybrids, not an old refrigerator. This goes to show how little the government actually cares about hybrids and you find yourself involuntarily clenching your fists.

After a few websites that lead nowhere, you stumble across one for a Hope Hybrid Center that seems promising. The description indicates how they’re dedicated to the ‘safety and comfort of all hybrids without discrimination’. The only catch is that the particular center in your city has just been built and will not open till later this week. Nevertheless, you decide to trust this location since there are several other branches under the same name littered across the country that all have raving reviews. You bookmark the page and remind yourself to contact their main call center tomorrow.

You don’t know what’s come over you. It’s true you’ve always had a soft spot for hybrids, and you’ve always been in full support of every new law that passes, bringing them closer to citizenship. But you’ve never been this passionate about personally helping them. It’s a good feeling, being actively involved in something you care about. Saving your two hybrid friends two months ago has really opened your eyes to what human bystanders can do. Every action, big or small, can have an impact and you mentally scold yourself for not being aware of your surroundings previously. Oh how ignorant you were.

The rest of your research is futile, and you end up closing your laptop with a sigh of defeat. This is all you can do right now. Who do you think you are? Some sort of vigilante? What power do you have to make any change?? You’re just one silly receptionist against the big bad world.

Before you start mentally beating yourself up even more, you close your eyes and remember the image of Sylvia’s face. She looked so hopeless, so resigned to her fate, that all your self pity dissipates. Whatever miserable situation you’re in, you know she’s probably experiencing something ten times worse.

You think about bringing this run-in up with Scarlet and Hazel but you chicken out last minute. They’ve been pretty busy on the days leading up to your dinner doing god knows what. They’ve been polite enough to reply to you but you can tell from the short, quipped answers they supply that they have other things going on right now. You know that they’re not doing this on purpose so it doesn’t bother you too much, but you do miss the comic relief they provide in your hectic life. Guess you’ll tell them all about it when you see them on Saturday.

The last thought in your head before you shut your eyes is to call the Hope Hybrid Center as soon as you go on break tomorrow.

“Hi! Thank you for calling the Hope Hybrid Center! This is Jodie speaking, how can I help you?”

“Uh, hi yes!” Jeez why are your palms so clammy? It’s just a phone call, you do these everyday! “My name is Y/N and I was wondering if you can help me with a couple questions about hybrids, if that’s ok?”

“Of course!” Jodie sounds all peppy and excited. You wish you still had her energy when you do your customer service calls. You were like her for only a brief period all those years ago when you began at the clinic. Boy did that die down fast.

“Um,” You’re not really sure where to start. Do you just straight out say someone is hurting their hybrid? That might sound a little too accusatory. “What do I do if I think someone is abusing their hybrid? Like I have no proof but I still feel like it’s happening?” You’re not used to doing things behind other peoples’ backs, even for someone as awful as Karen, and it’s got your entire body erupting in cold sweat. You mentally reprimand yourself. I’m trying to help. This is for a good cause.

“That’s a good question.” Jodie’s voice is reassuring, like she can hear the nervousness of your tone through the call. “There are several things you can do actually! The first thing we recommend you do is observe their behavior as much as you can and try to record or take note of any signs of aggression displayed by the supposed abuser. This can be used in case any legal action is taken.”

“Uh huh.” You reach into your purse and grab your handy dandy little notebook, pull out the pen stuck in the spiral, and quickly flip to a random blank page to jot down everything she says.

“Now if you want to take direct action, that can be a little riskier but it is possible. The best option is to take one of our unique business cards and pass that along to the hybrid in need.”

“Unique business cards…?” She lost you there.

“Yes. You can find them at each of our shelters or we can mail them to you.” She answers fast, and you have a feeling she’s used to this question. “Each of our business cards contain an emergency phone number, a security code, and are coated with a unique scent that is virtually undetectable by humans. When the number is called, our first question is to ask for the security code, then confirm the matching scent of their business card. These cards work best with the majority of hybrids that contain a heightened sense of smell, such as the mammalian hybrids. We may need to adjust for certain bird or aquatic species that rely on other senses.”

Your writing arm is sore from taking all this down but you pause to answer Jodie. “She’s a fox hybrid, so that should be ok I think?”

You hear a large sigh of relief over the receiver. “Ok that makes things a lot easier.” Her tone switches to serious once again. “But remember this can only be done if the hybrid is willing to contact us in the first place. Beyond that, someone will have to catch them in the act of abuse and that can be very hard to do.”

You nod your head in agreement, forgetting that she can’t see you. “I understand. There’s a small chance this may just be nothing but I want to try and help at least.”

“That’s awesome! It takes a lot of guts to report these issues and you’d be surprised how many people let them slide under their noses.” She’s so encouraging that for a short, sweet moment, you envision the whole plan falling into place. You can see it now, a happy Sylvia free from her oppressive captors. Wow they really do a good job. Jodie deserves a raise.

“Thanks Jodie that means a lot!” You shake your sore arm, trying to relieve the pain. “I might need you to mail me a business card since the Hope Hybrid Center in my city isn’t open yet.”

“No problem! I’ll just need your full name, an email and phone number, and your address.”

You relay all your information over. By the time the call is finished, you have a whole 2 minutes left on your lunch break. You look down at your untouched PB&J sandwich and cry internally. It’s for a worthy cause you repeat again and again in your head like a mantra.

Friday. Finally. This week has been the longest you’ve experienced since midterm week of college. You received a package from Hope Hybrid Services this morning and it’s currently sitting on your bedside table. You won’t need to open that up till Sylvia’s next appointment.

You power through another hectic day at work, motivated by the prospect of seeing your two friends in person tomorrow. Both boys are now well aware of your work schedule and take extra care not to text you until you’re off.

5pm rolls around and your phone vibrates just as you enter your car and buckle your seat belt. You check and see that it’s from ‘Hazel’s Nuts’, your favorite groupchat. You gun it towards your apartment, wanting to reply to them in the comfort of your own home. You must have made it in record time and you’re surprised you didn’t get a speeding ticket. Listen, you aren’t the best driver out there but no one’s died on your watch so you count that as a win. When you arrive home you immediately jump onto the couch and unlock your phone.

Hazel: Hi Y/N. Sorry we’ve been so busy this week but we’re excited to see you tomorrow

You: that’s ok! I figured you were occupied

Hazel: Yep. Had to take care of some stuff but we’re all set now

Scarlet: Y/N!!!!!!! I CAN’T WAIT TO SEE YOOUUUU

Scarlet: (excited emojis)

You: Same!!!

Hazel: Oh yeah

Hazel: We’re meeting at La Cucina Classica tomorrow btw

You let out a small gasp of surprise. No fucking way?! La Cucina Classica is one of THE most expensive restaurants in your city. You’ve never stepped foot inside their doors because they’re usually booked months in advance. Karli’s lucky ass managed to eat there once before and she described the food as, and you quote, ‘orgasmic’. How on earth did they manage to nab a spot there?

You: No way! Really?

Scarlet: Yes way!!

You: how the hell did you manage to get a table???

Hazel: We pulled some strings

You: omg u mysterious boys

Scarlet: We promise to tell you everything tomorrow!! <3

You: ok! but don’t feel obligated or anything

You: i trust u guys

Hazel: Good

Hazel: So tomorrow. 7pm

Scarlet: Oh yeah! Also dress nice

You: you bet! It’s a fancy place so i can’t let them know i’m secretly poor

Hazel: Lol

Hazel: I have to make a call for work so bye for now Y/N

You: bye kitty

Scarlet: See you tomorrow! I can’t wait!!!

You: me too!!

You: bye!

You set your phone down and whisper to yourself. “What does he mean by ‘work’? They have jobs??”

And they got a table at La Cucina Classica by ‘pulling some strings’, like it was no big deal to them?! Oh my god do you need answers!

You wake up promptly at 9am.

Why? Because it’s #SelfcareSaturday. And this has nothing to do with seeing the boys in person tonight at 7pm. Nothing at all.

You usually have a lot of shit to say about how crappy your little apartment is but today you’re feeling thankful because your dingy bathroom comes equipped with a little tub. You have a bath bomb that was a birthday gift from one of your college friends and you pray these things don’t expire (they do lol) because you’re about to crack this baby open for the first time.

You’ve still got 9 hours, 23 minutes, and 16 seconds till dinner tonight but who’s counting? Not me, you think as you slowly sink into the rainbow-colored tub water. The atmosphere is perfect. You’ve lit up two of your scented candles and have a lofi hip hop playlist on shuffle. You should really do this more often except, you know, water bills.

Right after bath time you decide to do one of your more elaborate skincare routines, hoping to remove the stress and fatigue from your face after a week of work. You facetime Karli so you’re not alone during the whole process.

“Hi Y/N!!” Karli’s face pops up onto the screen. It’s a little more blurry than usual and the sunlight is harsh behind her so she must be outdoors. “Why is your face all glittery?”

“Oh this?” You point to your cheeks. “Remember that fancy Japanese face mask I bought when I got my holiday bonus?”

“Oh yeah! But you said you’d only open it for a special occasion. Unless,” then she comes to a conclusion. “is it for the boys??”

“No!” You correct her too fast. “I mean yes, but also no.” There’s a blush creeping onto your cheeks. “Sometimes a girl just wants to treat herself…”

“Sweetie, your idea of treating yourself is ordering takeout and drinking wine on the weekends, but I’m not gonna pressure you.” Karli sure loves to tease.

“Shut up you don’t know me,” you pout. You’re furiously red at this point.

“Au contraire, I know you too well. You’re like that mole I have on my left ass cheek, I’ll never get rid of you.”

Classy.

“True.” She’s not wrong. You two have been through thick and thin and everything in between. It’ll take divine power to separate you now.

“Oh yeah good thing you called! I’ve got some news!” She’s raising her voice since the background noise of traffic behind her is a little deafening.

You tilt your head, a question forming on your lips. Is it about the wedding?

“Remember that Bryce guy?”

You do now, since she brought him up. But it does bring back a few embarrassing memories. “Yeah?”

“Well he told me he has a football game coming up so he’s probably gonna text you soon to ask if you can go.”

“I forgot I said yes to that,” you wince as you suddenly remember that night.

“I mean, you can always let him down gently,” Karli suggests.

“No, I shouldn’t. That would be mean. I did agree to go.” Just admit it. You don’t like disappointing people.

“Ok girl, if you say so.” She doesn’t push you, probably cause it looks like she’s hurrying somewhere. “Ugh I promised to meet my coworkers for lunch but why did I wear heels downtown!”

“I don’t know girl, sounds like a ‘you’ problem.” You snicker at her.

“Hey don’t be fucking rude!” She quotes that famous Kim Kardashian meme perfectly.

“Stop! Don’t make me laugh too hard!! It’s gonna mess up my face mask!” You’re trying to keep your face still but it’s damn near impossible at this point.

The rest of the day you spend pampering yourself, the whole nine yards. You even booked an appointment with the nearby nail salon after one glance at your unkempt cuticles. God you’re a mess. All you had today was a salad you picked up after your nail appointment because you want your stomach to prepare itself for the gorging you’re about to do tonight.

As the evening approaches, you hunt in your closet once again for appropriate dining attire. The words ‘dress nice’ echo in your head. This time you do open your ho drawer, because you remember having some sort of shimmery dress that isn’t too bad and can probably pass for being presentable in such a fine dining environment. You reach into the furthest corner and finally feel the soft, silky fabric, pulling it out and hoping against all odds that it isn’t full of wrinkles. Lucky for you, the dress is still in good condition. It’s a spaghetti strap and flows all the way down past your ankles. You’ve never found the occasion to wear it, only buying it cause it was on sale and you thought it was so pretty at the time.

You put it on and glance in the mirror. Usually you have a lot to critique about your physical appearance but today you admit you don’t look so bad. The dress shows a little bit of tasteful cleavage and there’s a slit that rides up your right leg but it isn’t too revealing. Attach some chunky, strappy black heels and you’re good to go. Except makeup, you’ve gotta do that first.

As the clock ticks closer to 6:30, you finish up on your smokey eye and swipe on a little lip tint. You’re definitely taking an uber tonight because you don’t want to miss out on the restaurant's excellent drink selection. Also parking on a Saturday night? Absolute nightmare.

The place is downtown and a good 20 minutes away so once you get in the car you tell the driver to step on it, promising to tip him extra when you get off.

You can’t stop the constant drumming of your heart as the car nears the location. You feel like a kid who’s been told they’re going to Disneyland and you’re giddy with excitement. Maybe it’s better not to see them in person because you might faint on the spot.

As the car pulls up you take a deep breath. Calm down Y/N, you think to yourself, I’m just meeting two good friends for dinner.

The restaurant is located at the rooftop of one of the taller buildings downtown. You enter the elevator, smoothing your dress and your nerves at the same time.

When the doors slide open, you’re greeted by an immaculately dressed hostess. You glimpse at the restaurant behind her. Expensive is definitely the right word to describe this place. There’s dimly lit, warm lighting above each of the tables, and a live band is playing soft tunes in the corner. Waiters and waitresses are carrying loads of food on only one hand, serving each table with grace and poise.

“Name?” The hostess asks you, breaking you out of your observation.

“Um,” You’re unsure what to say. Did they put the table down under Scarlet or Hazel? That can’t be right since those are fake names.

“Y/N?” You try with your name first to see if that’ll lead anywhere.

“Right this way Miss Y/L/N.” Holy shit, ok. Guess that worked.

You’re led past the many tables, ladened with various couples, and back into a private room. They even managed to book a private room?!?! You really feel out of place with your drugstore makeup and cheap dress.

The hostess graciously opens a door for you and-

“Y/N!!”

“Ooof!” You’re enveloped by the familiar scent of honey and cinnamon. “Hi Scar.” You try to compose yourself since he smells too good to be true. Hazel is right behind him, signature sleepy smile on his face. You back away from them, taking in their appearance

Oh. My. God.

Your jaw drops. Beautiful isn’t enough to describe what’s standing in front of you. Scarlet is in a perfectly fitted, baby blue suit that shows off his lean physique. One of his top buttons is undone, revealing his caramel colored skin and collarbones. You pry your eyes away from such sin and opt to look in Hazel’s direction but that does nothing to help you since he’s also dressed to the nines, wearing all black, silver jewelry sparkling on his neck and fingers, a stark contrast to his milky white skin. You look in between them instead, fearing you’ll drool if you stare at them any longer.

Hazel steps forward and also gives you a small hug. His scent is floral, with a spicy undertone, and you want nothing more than to drown in it.

“Hi Hazel,” God you must be blushing like crazy right now. You can’t help it since they look so delicious. Stop that! They’re your friends and they’re not interested!! You want to slap yourself for thinking such impure thoughts.

Well you say that but the way they’re taking in your outfit sends a shiver down your spine. Is it just you or did their eyes darken? The atmosphere quickly returns to normal and you start to wonder if that moment was all in your imagination.

“Look! We already have the champagne ready!” Scarlet’s tail is wagging a mile a minute as he returns to his seat. Hazel slides next to him right after, trying to swat away the offending appendage that’s taking up his spot.

“How ‘bout you control that tail of yours, hm puppy?” Hazel huffs, finally managing to sit down once he successfully shoves the tail back into Scarlet’s lap.

“Hey!” Scarlet looks downright offended. “I’m a fox, not a dog! We’re a much more sophisticated creature.” He crosses his arms and states pointedly, “just like you can’t control your purrs, we can’t control our wagging.”

Hazel only sighs. “Sometimes I wonder why I’m mated to you.”

“Because you love me. Now shut up or poor Y/N’s gonna feel like she’s being third-wheeled.”

Now this is the Scarlet and Hazel you’re used to. You sit across from them, nursing the sparkling flute of champagne that’s calling your name and trying not to snort out loud at their antics. It’s still extremely hard to maintain eye contact with either of the boys but you put in effort all the same.

“I hope you don’t mind, but we already ordered.” Hazel shifts in his seat, one hand ruffling the back of his hair.

“Actually that’s perfect!” You chuckle. “I have no idea what to get in places like these.”

“Ok, good.” His voice is now sounding a little bit shaky, which is very puzzling. Is he nervous?

You take a better look at them, temporarily ignoring their attractiveness (which is a very hard thing to do), and you notice their body language is off. Both their tails are now twitching anxiously and their ears are a little droopy. What’s going on?

“Hey guys.” You keep your voice gentle. “Is everything ok?”

“Yeah! There’s just, um…” Scarlet is twisting the napkin in his lap. “We have some very important things to ask you and-”

“Wait!” You interrupt him, putting one hand up. You need to get this across before the boys tell you anything. “Before you continue, I just want you both to know that under NO circumstances do you ever have to tell me anything you’re uncomfortable with. I understand that you have a lot of secrets to keep, being two hybrids who probably don’t have owners. I want to respect our friendship and your privacy, and if that means not knowing a lot of your secrets, then fine by me.” You’re almost out of breath from letting all this out but it’s worth it because you truly value your friendship with them. You always joke to yourself about wanting to know what they’re hiding but deep down you cherish being their friend more than anything.

Both boys glance at each other for a second, nerves having vanished, then they suddenly throw their heads back and erupt into giggles. Scarlet is full on shaking, slapping his knee while he roars with laughter. Even Hazel is cackling, gummy teeth on full display.

This throws you off and your eyebrows furrow together. What’s so funny? You were being sincere and trying to protect them from revealing secrets they don’t want to tell you.

By this time the waiter has come by with a tray of small appetizers so you grab an olive and chew on it in confusion, waiting for their laughter to die down.

“See? What did I tell you about her?” Hazel is wiping a stray tear off his face.

“You’re right, you’re right!” Scarlet nods back in agreement.

Their laughter has finally fizzled away and they both turn to face you once again.

“Um,” You’re completely lost for words so you take another sip of champagne for courage. “Did I say something wrong?”

“No not at all!” Scarlet is quick to reassure you. “In fact, we were nervous at first but you’re making this so much easier for us.”

“Easier?” If you had a penny for all the times these boys have confused you, you’d probably be a millionaire by now.

“Right.” Hazel leans into the table a little bit, a small smirk on his face. “You see, there’s something very important we want to ask you tonight.”

“But first,” Scarlet juts in, also leaning in next to Hazel, “just to clarify. You trust us right, Y/N?”

“Of course.” You say without hesitation. These boys literally have no reason to harm you. Except they’re a little too close to you now and you resist the urge to fan yourself because oooh boy do they have the prettiest eyes you’ve ever seen. And their ears! Why are their ears so fluffy looking?! You bet their super soft to touch but you dare not reach out.

“Even though you don’t know our real names?” Hazel urges you on.

“Well, I always figured you’ll tell me when you’re comfortable...” Your voice is getting smaller now, and you feel yourself getting red from head to toe. They’re too close to you and you try not to let your obvious attraction show so you look down and twiddle with your silverware.

“Excellent.” Both boys snap back into their seats, startling you.

“Y/N.” Scarlet clears his throat and tries to make his voice sound serious but he can’t hold back his smile. “We would like to officially ask you to adopt us.”

The fork you’re playing with clatters onto the table.

#bts fic #bts hybrid au #hoseok fanfic #yoongi fanfic #bts smut #bts fluff #bts fanfction #hybrid hoseok #hybrid yoongi #bts hybrid fic

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big-idiot-wolf-boys · 4 years ago

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Twilight Tag game!

Pick 5-10 characters and write your take on the canon version of them vs. fanon version of them. fanon doesn’t have to be what is generally accepted in the fandom, it can be your own idea of what you think a character is like. then tag the same number of people as characters you pick, if you can.

I was tagged by @witchyangela! Thanks so much. I’m excited to take this on!! I want to do some underrepresented characters, and a couple of my favorites ^^

Paul

In canon Paul is mostly just kind of... there, and angry. In Breaking Dawn I think I remember him getting a funny one liner or two. Clearly smyer didn’t care about rounding out her side characters (or at least the non white ones)

I’ve seen the fandom give Paul a sarcastic sense of humor, but that’s kind of mostly it too. I like to think he’s really protective and has a playful side. He likes to rough house, sometimes even letting the younger kids like Seth and Colin win. Aside from cliff diving, he also likes basketball, and kicks ass at arcade games.

Embry

All we know about Embry in canon is that he’s a good friend, likes to talk about cars with Jake, and doesn’t know who his dad is.... sooooo. Lets give him some demension, shall we?

I think Embry is a sweetheart who cares about his friends, and works hard in school. Once he changed into a wolf, his priorities shifted, but he’s still trying to keep up on his education. I think he’s really fun loving and I headcanon that he helped Jake after the stuff with his mom happened.Also he totally skateboards.

Lauren

Again, in canon, we don’t know much about Lauren. She’s a bitch with blonde hair and “fishy” eyes and a nasally voice. Her hair was cut short because she was tricked by an agent, like what?

So, in my rewrite of twilight (not to constantly plugging it or anything lol) I’ve tried to give Lauren more of a personality. Her hair was cut short in an act of rebellion, and soon afterwards, a change of style acompanyed it. She can still be ‘girly’ but is stepping away from that lifestyle to open herself up more. She apologizes to Bella for acting less than friendly, and participates in group activities more, even giving real advice. I headcanon she used to be a cheerleader, but quit in favor of the debate team.

Jessica

Okay, so in canon, Jess is described as bubbly and friendly, but inexplicably jealous and disloyal if Midnight Sun is to be believed. That’s fine, whatever, a little basic tho.

In Nightfall (again, not to push my own content), I kept Jess’s bubbly and friendly personality, but instead of making her a gossip, it’s implied that my bella thinks Jessica is a gossip, but it turns out she’s a true friend. She’s got a big personality, and won’t back down or apologize for what she believes in, she’s determined and studious. I like to think she paints, and sports a lot of denim.

Anyway idk who to tag, so anyone feel free!

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paperbagpetrichor · 5 years ago

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Aaaaaaah love your work! 💕 If you're still doing requests, could I ask for "10. No More Hurt: A merperson who is scarred and bruised from humans trying to capture them for years meets one who rescues them from a net trap-" from the recent Mermay prompts with merman!Jotaro? He just strikes me as a fishy that'd get hurt often and deserves better 😭

[ Thank you so much, I really appreciate it! c: ]

There were benefits to moving for college. You could finally control the environment you lived in, for one, without having to worry about bedtimes or no-you-can’t-do-this or no-you-can’t-do-that enforced by your parents even though you were far above the age where any of that would’ve made any sort of remote sense for you to need reminders of, capable of spreading everything out and relaxing without a care. Nobody was going to visit, there wasn’t really a point in keeping things tidy. As far as you cared the more comfortable you were the better. Your flat was small, but decently close to your school, perhaps a five-minute drive at most. And in the other direction, perhaps a seven-minute drive, was the coast. The saltwater waves would churn with the changing of the moon, and the breezes it often cast your way were more than enough to improve the slight humidity that would linger around after rainfall, and beach access was always granted. You could finally be independent, truly and fully. And the ocean was practically your backyard. Of course, that pretty much guaranteed what your job was going to be. You had to have one to maintain rent - one of the downsides of having your own place, but there was no way you were sharing a room with some random other person you’d never met before - and options to fresh-faced new adults like you were limited. Most of the common places one would search for employment at were filled. How was it that every fast food restaurant had an ‘excess of employees?’ Or that there wasn’t a gas station or retail shop that cared to give you a passing glance?

This was the downside of it all: the fishing industry around your area was, needless to say, prosperous. New hands on deck were just about always needed. Thus, you had become perhaps the lowest class of a fishing crew: steward-in-training. Yep, that’s right, not so much as a steward. You didn’t have a fishing license, so that was off-limits until you either chose to gain one or found a different job entirely. In other words, you were the garbage girl, occasionally working for cooks or filling in whenever a crew member was absent, but mainly, your days consisted of literal trash. Whatever. It was a living, at least.

Thankfully, this week, the steward above you was on break, and a few deck netters were out as well, meaning you wouldn’t be waist-deep into who-knew-what. It would be your first time filling in as a netter. Frankly, the giant machinery of it all startled you, like a giant metal monster, and the sheer dimensions of the net could probably trap you and just about all of your numerous coworkers with room to spare. It was a behemoth. With the help of the others, you reeled in, dumped one net into the freezing icebox, and ran to the next, a race against time to see how many nets you could handle. Maybe if you did well enough, you could get some sort of promotion? Apparently you were indeed doing well, as somewhere along the line you wound up dealing with the nets one-on-one, reeling in the massive hauls as best as you could by yourself. It was nearly time to head home, everyone else busy with prepping the fish, and there was only one net remaining. You began to pull. About a third of the way up, the machinery shuddered to a stop, and no matter how hard you yanked, it refused to relent. What the hell was happening? All the equipment had been perfectly functional before you set off. Did you break it? No, everything still looked intact, so then…? You remembered stories of how every once in a while a dolphin or shark or even seals being entangled and weighing the process down. With a frown - if you were alone, and it was a shark, you certainly didn’t want to have to deal with that by yourself - you leaned over the side of the boat, scanning the water within the net for anything unusual. Initially all you could see was blood. That did not look promising; couldn’t sharks smell blood or something? Maybe one was already devouring the fish inside. Bubbles of red liquid rose to the surface and popped, leaving you to shudder as you peered in despite yourself, desperate to reach some sort of conclusion. And it was then that you saw it.

Rather, you saw him.

At first he was nothing more than a flash of black hair, sunkissed skin flecked with cuts and bruises, turned so violently blue and green from abuse that he nearly masked in with the various fish struggling against the net, only contributed doubly to the confusion by…what appeared to be a fish tail? You weren’t even aware of your jaw dropping as you nearly tripped off the boat. A large gash, stretching from above his left eye all the way across his chest, finally showed through after a bout of thrashing around, eyes fighting to stay open and fingers clawing at the net in desperation. What the hell had happened to him? No, there wasn’t time for that - at this rate, with the amount of blood he was losing…if you didn’t do anything, he was going to die. You cast a quick glance over your shoulder before hooking yourself to the side of the boat and diving over.

The saltwater stung at your eyes as you propelled yourself down, holding your breath as best as you could as you approached him and only saw more and more injuries dotting his body, all different sizes, different kinds, but frightfully painful at a glance, much less a focus. As soon as he noticed you, he bristled up. His pained face contorted into one of stoic expression, albeit one with a current of anger clearly lying beneath it, and he darted in the opposite direction, hitting the back of the net. If you could’ve said something, you would’ve. You would have said, I’m going to set you free, you’re going to be alright, hang in there, but you couldn’t. With air quickly depleting you took to cutting the net apart and were greeted with a surge of fish shoving you backwards, only to recollect yourself and find the merman staring daggers at you. There wasn’t much time now. In a fell sweep, you rushed to him, taking him in your arms as he fought against your touch, pulling the tie back up as you began to lift out of the water, gasping for breath, hugging him to your chest, every ounce of your strength devoted to holding him, before reaching the deck and rushing with him to the below-deck quarters. You had the equivalent of a janitor’s room, but it was something. Something where nobody would find him. The hand you’d kept against his mouth retreated as you shut the door, instantly piling towel after towel up against a corner of the room in as best of a makeshift bed you could manage. All this time he had been silent. There wasn’t a reason to presume he’d begin yelling, at least not now. You turned back to help him onto the pile of faux blankets only for your face to blanch at the sight. His tail was no longer there - instead, legs, battered and bruised beyond belief. Once more he shrunk from your touch and heftily tried to shift away from you, only to wince with pain and fall still for a few moments, long enough for you to get him settled. You grabbed the first aid kit from the shelf and knelt down beside him.

“Hey, don’t be scared,” you whispered, switching your gaze from the kit to his attempted neutral face that was betrayed by the way his features slightly scrunched up with pain, “I’m not going to hurt you, I promise. I’m going to try to help you, okay? But I need you to be still.” You moved towards him and he shrunk back, closing his eyes, only for you to hover above him nervously and continue, “I don’t know if you understand me, but…[y/n]. That’s my name.”

After a few moments his eyes fluttered open, a beautiful seafoam green. He clenched his jaw but relaxed otherwise, albeit reluctantly, muttering, “Jotaro.” Almost as though he was ready to relent to you, he tilted his head so you could get a better angle at the slash and begin stitching.

You gave a small him of approval, followed by a nod when you realized his uninjured eye was still fixed upon you. “That’s a nice name,” you replied with as best a smile as you could manage under the circumstances at hand. Relief flooded you as he let out a grunt in response - he could understand you. That made things a little easier. You weren’t exactly a medical expert, but without immediate help he would bleed to death. The rest of his injuries you could tend to later. “I’m sorry. This isn’t the best of introductions.” A nervous chuckle escaped you. He remained quiet, so you figured at this point you were simply talking to yourself, to calm yourself more than him. So far he hadn’t so much as flinched as you applied the antiseptic and finished the final stitches, plastering a bandage around him only to realize you were lacking the rest for his facial injuries.

With one glance to the remaining section - consisting almost solely of band-aids - he immediately spoke. “No.”

“Okay,” you agreed, not wanting to push him, setting the kit aside. The boat had begun motion - good. You would reach land in a few minutes, and could get him proper help. That was, of course, if he’d even agree to so much as go anywhere with you. So far he’d shrunk back from your touch and wriggled away if you’d approach if he could. It was pretty clear, as the boat finally lurched to a halt, that he’d never had interactions with humans. Or, at least, never had any interactions with good people, you supposed, waiting for the last of the footsteps to disappear. You were always last aboard, cleaning up the remnants of the mess of the day. Right now, of course, that wasn’t your priority, as you slowly opened the door and peeked out after a few minutes, making sure everything was clear, only to breathe a small sigh of relief as the last car - save for yours - pulled out of the parking light. You returned to his side. “Jotaro? I want to get you somewhere safe.”

Still on his back, still with those piercing eyes jabbing at you in suspicion, he replied, “Leave.”

You were taken aback by his sudden refusal. Surely he couldn’t believe he’d be alright, could he? Not after getting those cuts and bruises, scars and nicks, a slash right across him and winding up tangled in a fishnet half-conscious, no way, right? As if it had a mind of its own your mouth opened. “If I leave you, you’re only going to get - ”

“ - Get hurt?” his deep voice rang, cutting, slicing off the edge of your sentence with something sharper. With a twitch of his face that lasted only a moment, barely noticeable, he had narrowed his eyes, so close together that all you could truthfully make out were his lashes as he continued, “You’re wrong. The only way I’ll get hurt is if you take me, or anyone like you.” Everything was a low growl. “I know what you do to my kind.”

And suddenly his injuries made sense. Those specific indentations weren’t just odd markings from something he’d run into, they were from fish hooks. His scrapes and scars were from where fishing reel had wound itself around his body, digging in tight. The criss-cross of stripes, red and raised, crawling up his skin and flaking away to rawness in certain areas, weren’t from some ocean-bound attacker, they were from the nets that he’d pulled so hard against. His bruises had to have been from escaping something, likely a man-made creation. And as for the wound you’d just cleaned…a heavy-duty sinking bait must have caused it, from the way it ripped at his skin and dug deep. Nothing - or at least very little - of the injuries that covered him like a cloak of painted pain were caused by something natural. No. This had been the work of ‘anyone like you’ - humans. No wonder he didn’t trust you.

You blinked slowly, options running through your head, none of them sounding or seeming right. Finally, you settled upon, “I - I’m sorry,” you began quietly, with whatever courage you could find, “but you should know, everyone else will be back tomorrow. And with you injured like that, I really don’t think it’s a good idea to head back to the waters yet.” No, it still sounded all wrong, what were you doing? Was that too forceful? Arrogant? “Of course, I mean, you don’t have to listen to me. You don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, okay?” I just want to help you. If you could let those words, the truth, your truth, out, you felt as though your heart would break. The sight of someone so harmed, clearly not just physically but mentally, too, literally backed into a corner on a dim ship, just a little while after being found, possibly bleeding to death, trapped in that very same ship’s nets - sorrowful and guilt were too light of words to describe it all. But you knew there wasn’t a chance you could say that, either. He was already distrustful of you to begin with. If you made such a lofty statement, he’d likely reject anything else you had to offer, retreating back into himself. Of course he wouldn’t believe someone genuinely wanted to help him.

To your surprise, he closed his eyes, shaking his head with a grunt as though he himself couldn’t believe he was letting him do what he was - and he likely couldn’t, at that matter. From beneath dark lashes he glanced back up at you. “Where do I go?”

Oh. Was it really…that simple? He was still uncomfortable, disturbed, downcast, injured, but he seemed to have recognized the rationale behind your words, to some degree, at the very least. A small sigh of relief escaped you, quiet enough for only you to hear. “Wherever you’d like. I would say you should visit the hospital. I’m by no means a doctor, and I think someone else could help you more than I, but there would be a lot of - um, a lot of people there.”

“I’m not bleeding,” he replied quickly, as though that meant he wasn’t suffering from any sort of pain despite the brief look of agony on his face as he sat up, facing you directly. It was clear just as many thoughts were speeding around in his head as were in yours. As much as you wished he would accept the offer, deep down you were pretty certain he wouldn’t, and he confirmed this suspicion, continuing, “Is there somewhere without them?”

You didn’t need to ask what ‘them’ meant. “We have hotels,” you postulated, “but there are still a couple people there. You would get a room to yourself, though, and I could pay for it until we find you someplace better.”

“Don’t pay for me. I’m not going there anyways.”

Everything felt like it was falling apart once more. You were quickly running out of options and he was quickly running out of energy to deal with your thoughts. There was only one thing you had left to offer, really. And of all the things you had suggested, you knew, without a doubt, this one would never make it. You would leave the ship tonight, alone, knowing that somewhere in the seas, by the next morning, was a deeply scarred merman, likely subject to just as much torture as before. But you had to try. You couldn’t leave it at this. Not with your heart swollen inside of your chest, words raking their way up your throat. “I live alone.” You awaited his immediate rejection only to find none at all. “If you want a place with no people…you’ll have to stay somewhere until we can figure something out. It would just be me there. I don’t have friends over, and I’d be gone for awhile every week for school, so I think - that’s the closest I can get to somewhere that my kind isn’t. I would have to be there,” you repeated, letting everything flow, “but not for very long. So if you want to, you could come back with me.”

He stared at you, blankly, silently, for a few moments in which the only sound you could perceive was the thumping of your heart. “I’ll go with you.”

You were absolutely positive you hadn’t heard him right. He…would? He wasn’t going to disappear back into the sea? He wouldn’t continue to be harmed like that, never again, if you had so much as a single word’s say in it, safer than he had been in the ocean on land? There wasn’t an absolute hatred. No, hatred wasn’t right. His stoic expression could surely make it appear that way, definitely, but hatred was a misnomer. It was doubt. It had been doubt, all along.

“Take me there.”

Almost as though in a trance, you nodded, standing and extending an arm to help him up, which, surprisingly, he took, shifting to his feet and peering at the now slightly-ajar door. Nobody was left around, and you reassured him of it. You aided him into the passenger’s seat before heading around to the other side of your car and beginning to drive the familiar route from work back to home. “Jotaro,” you began after awhile of nothing but the sound of the radio, “you don’t have to answer me, but - is this your first time talking? To someone like me?”

His gaze fell at his feet. “If you mean other humans…no. I’ve been - caught, before.” He shifted to look out at the scenery that passed him by as you drove, almost like swimming but in air, unfamiliar sights somehow both intriguing and frightening him.

“I’m sorry. But please know…I won’t let it happen again.”

With a small exhale, he rested his elbow against the window, resting his head in his open palm and continuing, “Yare yare daze.”

Although he couldn’t see it, you eyeballed him as you found yourself in a line of traffic at a red light, knitting your eyebrows together. Where was he going with this?

“I’ve never spoken to someone like you, [y/n]. There hasn’t been anyone to show me…that humans can be like you.”

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