#I’ve noticed that I’ve accidentally been making them look younger in my art
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spirited-splashes · 3 months ago
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pines family bonding for the soul
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bubblybloob · 6 months ago
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Hey, so this kind of turned into a vent. Be wary going in, but it’s important if you engage some with my stuff. I think I’ve been thinking about it more as btg has become more active, and wanted to get it all off my chest.
I’ve wanted to bring this up for a while now, after my popularity grew. I’m sure some people have noticed my lack of joy at the 500 followers milestone, and the 600 one, but it’s a bit more complicated than on the surface.
So, there was something I haven’t really mentioned. It wasn’t ever really a secret, I just didn’t feel it was important, and was always taught it was dangerous to talk about and to dance around the subject if brought up. But I’ve noticed that the people on Tumblr find this kind of important to know when interacting. I know people on here can get really hostile, and this kind of became a secret because of that. I don’t know if it’s bad that I haven’t said anything or not, but I thought I should still make a post anyway.
So, I’m, in my country, since I know it might be younger or older in other places, a minor.
Okay most important stuff first. Yes, I’ve said or drawn mildly suggestive stuff, that’s mostly because I’m very unaffected by it and find it more amusing (I might be a little ace idk), though I do purposely keep stuff I make mostly tame simply because like- still technically a kid. I’ve seen stuff far more suggestive from afar before and just nod and say “mm, yes, that exists” and indifferently move the hell on with my life.
Being part of the STP community has been really strange for me and not all in good ways. I hate hate hate people looking up to me, or being jealous, or having anxiety talking to me because- in my head- I’m just doing everything and talking to everyone I can because I like making stuff and talking to people, and I feel so uncomfortable up on this pedestal where I’m held so high, but if I make one wrong step I’ll have tomatos thrown at me. It’s a really claustrophobic and isolating position and feeling and it makes me feel sick, anxious, stressed, and really really scared.
I like the community I’m in and friends I’ve made, but I’m really afraid I’ll say something unusual or wrong or maybe even offensive since I don’t know everything I’m supposed to say or do. I don’t know how to act when someone’s depressed, I don’t know how people feel about shipping, or designs for characters who canonically don’t have a physical appearance, or what the opinion is on all of the nsfw content. I do the Homer Simpson bush meme whenever I see it pop up because if there’s something that I do know, it’s that people don’t want minors reading their blorbos being sexy with each other.
(Side note: The amount of times I’ve accidentally clicked on an explicit fic thinking ‘Oo what’s this’ and then seeing what’s going to happen is… not staggering, actually. But enough for me to laugh in hindsight. I scroll to the bottom to read the comments to confirm my suspicions, and get the hell out. Happened with the same fics multiple times too because I forgot they were explicit and that I’d encountered them in the first place, wondered why I never read them and then boom, flashback, I never read the description like the fool I am).
And there’s the thing isn’t it. Some parts of fandom culture, it feels like all I can do is mess up. I just don’t know how I can handle all the fear of this attention?
Like, I don’t hate it. I like interacting, I like that people love my art despite my grievances with parts of my style, I’ve been so motivated to grow and get better because of everyone. You can all look at my oldest STP post and newest one and see the differences plainly.
But it’s really so much, and I’m as grateful as I am terrified. I’m terrified of hurting someone’s feelings when I don’t mean to. Like, what if I follow someone and they get excited because I’m a “big name” and then I decide to unfollow for whatever reason I might have at the time? I might crush that person’s soul or want to interact.
Despite my willingness, I do have problems with some ships, but I can’t voice any because what if I start a big argument with a bunch of people involved instead of the normal discussion I wanted to have? People are more likely to take my side because I’m the popular person, and we all know popular people are always right about everything and we must regurgitate their opinions without any thought put into how you actually feel. And then I’ll make whoever I was talking to retreat for a really long time, and everything will be awful and terrible forever and ever.
I can’t do that to people! I’ve been those people! I’ve was told things by people I looked up to and would get so so so upset, because I’m really emotional. I don’t want to hurt someone who might be sensitive like me.
I really just wanted to get all these feelings off my chest. Sorry if it got pretty venty. I’m open to discussing it, I’m still really scared to post this, it’s my only ever vent post, but I’ll try not to just save it in my drafts and let it rot.
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flames-tstuff · 2 years ago
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I had the most delightful, fanfic-esque scenario play out before me today.
Unnecessarily long (but wholesome) story time below the cut!
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I want to tell you all about this relatively new friend of mine (we've been friends for maybe 4-6 months now), whom I love dearly /p. The story is sort of in two parts; the background context, and then the actual story that happened today.
Background/Context
This kid appears to look like your stereotypical "fuckboy", right? Smooth, calm, collected demeanor. Well-dressed. A bit androgynous. Long, well-maintained hair. A pretty boy. I originally think to myself, “Huh, he’s kinda pretty(?) Uh oh. That can’t be good." Basically, I assume this dude is a douche-bag, because, well, your brain learns to recognize patterns, right? I've learned that conventionally attractive people typically only interact with me if they want something (cynical, I know).
Fast forward a few months and I find that I actually enjoy talking to him, and that he enjoys talking to me. Me—someone who mostly presents feminine (when I assumed him to be somewhat misogynistic) and is awkward as hell. He looks at me and speaks to me like I’m a real person..? Like he’s not just tolerating my presence and actually enjoys interacting with me. Like I'm "one of the guys", an equal. Pretty much any cishet guy I’ve ever met looks and talks to me like I’m an inconvenien. So the fact that he wasn't acting that way should have been the first sign that he's not at all what I had assumed.
A few months in when he feels comfortable enough, he tells me he’s been transitioning MTF(*) in secret for some time now. And it makes perfect sense. That’s why he had a pretty, feminine face. That’s why he had his hair grown out long. When I told him that no cishet guy has EVER been that kind to me, he said it was probably the estrogen lol.
*(Everyone who ~knows~ calls him by his given name and pronouns, just to be safe. We go to a religion-based school in a state that isn't very progressive or safe. I’ve only ever heard his girlfriend, who I also love and adore, use she/her in private, and even then it’s rare. So until I’m given explicit permission to openly use feminine pronouns, we’re all playing it safe by sticking with he/him.)
I’ve always been a mom friend, but I'm telling you this person is bringing out the “they must be protected at all costs” in me. The person who I thought was this smooth, sauve, chill dude (think Buck Dewey from Steven Universe lol) is actually just a scared, insecure little girl behind the curtains. A young adult who, because of the hormones, is basically going through Second Puberty™, angst and all. Someone who hid behind his guitar during a jam session because he was afraid someone would notice his developing chest. The friend who surprised me when I looked over and saw him crying during the animated film we were watching in the theater.
Guys, this is like my own real-life Zuko or Nico friend. The character in fiction that you just wanna shower with comfort and reassurance and warmth (but you can't, so you do so through writing and art). The friend you see almost as a younger sibling, that you feel compelled to protect. The one that you wanna hug and tell them that everything will be alright. This is all in my head of course, I don't want to risk accidentally smothering, patronizing, or otherwise scaring him away. But I feel honored any time I get the chance to see his walls come down even a little.
So because he’s got this particular demeanor about him, I was thinking to myself how much I want to see what would happen if someone were to... break down those walls a bit (yeah, you know what I'm talking about lol). Like really truly see past the facade he puts up every day. Because the thing is, I’ve seen him express and react just like everyone else. Happy, sad, angry—I’ve even seen him get playful before, but it’s always at about the same even level of reaction. I want to see him finally "crack", you know? What I would give to see him lose his cool and drop all pretenses, to see him be lovingly destroyed.
And oh how this sets up like the premise of a fanfic, am I right?
Unfortunately we’re not yet close enough to have crossed the barrier of physical contact (he doesn’t seem like the touchy type anyway), so it definitely would have to be coming from his girlfriend. Even if it did happen, the chances of me getting to witness it are low. I assume his girlfriend probably respects him enough not to embarrass him too much in front of others. Still, one can dream 😆
I wait for the day when the subject of being ticklish comes up (bc there ain't NO way this ball of hidden angst isn’t ticklish), someone teases him about it, and chaos ensues.
Today.
(aka the actual story, the reason for making this post)
Spoiler alert: No tickly shenanigans take place, unfortunately, but it's just about as good in my book :)
There were five of us friends (since when did I get a group of friends to hang out with??) piled into his car. I can’t remember exactly what happened, I think his girlfriend changed something about the radio, and lo and behold IT HAPPENED. He cracked!... even if just a tiny bit, hehe. It wasn’t an angry outburst in like a concerning, toxic way, but he was like “Ah, c’mon why’d you do that??” more akin to a whiny twelve-year-old who's parents unplugged their TV to get them to go to bed. It was funny and endearing more than anything, like watching an old married couple fight. We all snickered a bit at the sight, and I saw my opportunity to tease him a little.
I said something along the lines of “you know, for someone who has such a calm and collected demeanor, I absolutely love when I get to see you lose your cool. I mean that in the nicest way possible, of course. It’s just the best". He said that he didn’t think he gave off that kind of vibe, but he appreciated that that's how I see him 😆
Then, a few minutes later we were in the drive-through line getting sodas at McD’s. One of the friends in the car with us says idk, maybe two words, and he LOSES it (you know how inside jokes with friends are). Like, full-on busts up, flops against the wheel wheezing, which eventually turns into loud genuine laughter. Now I completely lose it, doubling over and burying my face in my lap laughing, but not because of the joke (cue the sappy music). The sudden, uncontrollable bout of laughter coming from him was so unexpected and so contagioius... It was one of the best sounds I’d heard in a long time! I was basically cry-laughing at that point. There were actual tears in my eyes that I had to wipe away. It all sounds so cliché but it really was an incredible sight to behold, and, in a roundabout sort of way, my dream came true.
So yeah. I just wanna hug him and fawn over him like a mom or an auntie. Poke him, help him loosen up a little. We’re not quite at that level of friendship where that would be well received I think, but maybe someday. Yeah, someday.
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bonny-kookoo · 4 years ago
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Under Your Skin (JJK x Reader) | 🔞
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Pairing: Tattoo Artist!Goth/Punk!Jeon Jungkook x Secretary!Shy!Reader
Genre: Tattoo artist!AU, Badboy x Sweetgirl AU, Idk what else
Tags/Warnings: Ultimate goodboy Kook, He looks grr but is actually sweet, shy reader, smol reader, Kookers is WHIPPED, Also a tease, Dom!Jungkook because how could I not, Sub!Reader, Babygirl!Reader, Its not heavy on the whole ddlg-stuff but yeah they be having some vibes y'know, don't come @ me don't I'm not forcing you to read it lol, anyways moving on, because smut, yes I mean it's my content, and yall nasty admit it, slight hair pulling, manhandling also only a little, oral (f & m receiving), praising, mentions of emotional and physical insecurities, but Kook be supportive so we good, back to the nasty, body worship yes pls, biting, fingering, because why not, protected sex because we keep it clean in this household, light-hearted sex, kook being a romantic goof, yeah I think thats it?
Summary: Jungkook looks like absolute trouble; like one wrong look could set him off, and turn him into an absolute murderer. But oh well, ever heard the phrase 'Never judge a book by its cover'?
A/N: you might have noticed me only putting one emoji up top. I have decided to from now on only mark my adult fics with emojis (which is basically almost every single one lets be real). Also; stop reading my fucking fics if any of the tagged/warned things make you uncomfortable. I'm tired of everyone clowning in my inbox telling me how disgusting ddlg/smut content is. You can't even tell me you 'read it by accident' because that's why I'm always putting the cut underneath my fics =) so pls go finish preschool and then we can maybe shake hands. Maybe not. Covid and all. Yeah.
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On the outside, Jeon Jungkook seems like absolute trouble.
He's working at a tattoo and piercing studio, dresses in all black, clattering chains and heavy boots always alerting everyone around of his presence. His long black hair is never truly tamed, his nails painted black, and his face expressionless most of the time. He's a talented artist and well trained piercer, always visiting conventions to keep up with the newest trends, styles, and equipment there is. He takes his job seriously- and is proud of it, knowing that he had proven his family wrong by now. They had been worried about him; especially his mother had scolded him that he shouldn't throw his time away trying to make it in a world of art many had already failed. But last year, he had finally invited them over to his rather nice apartment, showing them that he was living a good life, with nothing to really worry about.
Jungkook had made it.
Well, not quite.
Because as of currently, Jungkook had a new mission, a new goal.
"Ah, Jungkook!" You say, eyes sparkling as you smile at him when he enters the shop he works at. You had recently started to work there as well, since Taehyung was absolute shit at keeping files in order and track of schedules. You hadn't applied for the job specifically, that's at least what his coworker had told him- he had known you prior already, and was aware that you had wanted a change these days.
And Jungkook had been painfully crushing on you ever since you started.
"Your schedule for the week is already here- I uhm.. didn't put it on your desk cause, I didn't want to intrude your space and all.." You say, giving him a small black booklet where you always noted down his appointments. He appreciated it a lot- knowing how much of a hassle it could be to move dates back and forth just to somehow make it fit. You always made sure that he had enough time in between multiple daily pieces in case something took longer or less so you could make sure to be able to move things accordingly. You didn't want him to get overworked, you had said. He had smiled.
"Thanks- and you can go inside, no problem." He says, and you nod. "I know you don't make a mess, like someone else here." He says, hinting at Namjoon, who was known to be quite clumsy- yet a mastermind when it came to designing pieces he struggled with. Jungkook stayed at your front desk for a bit, making you tilt your head a bit, as you tried not to stare. He always took so much care of himself, you would have had to be blind not to see how attractive he actually was. But then again, you didn't get your hopes up- after all, he was nice to almost everyone around. "You've never been in there, right?" He asks, and you shake your head. You haven't been in his space at all- too scared to invade his privacy and making him upset in the process. "I mean- you got time right now? I can show you around." He casually tells you, and you look at your computer screen in front of you. Everything had been filed for today- so you probably had a bit of time to spare.
"Sure." You said, taking your phone and standing up from your chair, making sure to lock the pc so no one would accidentally make a mess out of your tabs. Or worse; close them. God knows all hell would break loose.
Jungkook had to really force himself not to let out any noise as you walked next to him.
You were so tiny next to him.
He wasn't that tall to be honest- with Namjoon and Taehyung both taller than him, he knew he was average at best. And for the longest time, he'd had a thing for tall girls, all elegant and confident. He still liked their aesthetic, yes- but now that he spotted you, he could really see the appeal of having a shorter significant other.
You were so cute.
You carefully stepped inside when Jungkook lifted the curtain that was used instead of a door, surprised to see how.. organized everything was. A little.. off- some things seemed to be randomly put somewhere, but in general, it seemed like everything had their proper spot. "I like to have it like this." He comments, and you nod your head to that, finally spotting his tattoo-gun. It was made out of purple steel- polished, and changing its hue depending on how you looked at it. It was absolutely beautiful, even though you had a rather limited understanding of these things. "Was a present from Taehyung last year." Jungkook says, sitting down on his chair. "I never asked- are you inked at all?" He asks, leaning backwards as you stand there a little awkwardly. "You can sit down somewhere, don't be so tense." He chuckles, and you look around, before you sit on the stretcher across from him. You shake your head, and Jungkook isn't surprised. Your pink converse sway back and forth as you sit on the stretcher, legs too short to reach the floor anymore as you rest your hands underneath your thighs; hem of your dress revealing more of them than he can usually see.
"I don't have any tattoos yet, but I've been talking to Namjoon about it." You said, and Jungkooks saliva tastes a little bitter at that. He doesn't want to pout or give away that it's bugging him at all that you're not talking to him about it- but he fails miserably. "Namjoon actually said I should talk to you about it, since the style I want fits you best." You say, and he can't hide his smile, bunny teeth on full display as he leans forward a bit.
"You'd let me tattoo you?" He asks, and you shrug, before nodding. "What do you have in Mind?" He instantly asks, not even bothering to hide his excitement.
If only you knew that it's because of you; and not just because he's gonna be the first to ink you.
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You've both agreed on a design you want, and Jungkook can't deny that he thinks it's absolutely perfect on you.
"Are you scared?" Jungkook asks you as he prepares everything, his sweater's sleeves rolled up, revealing his own body art to you, as well as some bracelets; one that you recognize as the wooden-bead bracelet you had gifted him last year for his birthday. It was weird to see him wear it.
"I.. no. Just nervous." You say. "I'm worried I might cry and make a fool out of myself." You say with a laugh, and Jungkook chuckles, placing a reassuring and warm hand on your upper arm.
"It's fine. I've seen grown man cry like kids on this stretcher before." He casually says. "Don't worry; I won't think any less of you just because of some tears." He says with a smile, and you nod, turning your head to look at his room's walls instead; covered in drawings, sketches, and pictures of finished works he was most proud of. "Do you want anything to hold onto?" He asks, as he starts to shave the skin of your thigh to make sure he can work as best as possible. He's so into his work, so concentrated on doing everything perfect, that he doesn't even take much into account that you're laying in only your panties and oversized sweater; skirt neatly placed on a chair in the corner of the room, to get it out of the way.
"It's fine" You mumble, although you really want to. So instead you curl your fingers around the fabric of your sweater- something that doesn't go unnoticed by Jungkook, who decides not to comment on it for now. He simply throws the one-time razor away as well as the tissues used to clean your skin, before he carefully places the tracing paper onto where he seems fit.
"I think it would look great right here." He says lowly, carefully removing the paper to reveal the lines he's gonna trace with his gun in a few minutes. "You wanna look at it again?" He asks, and you shake your head. "Alright." He says, before he gets up and walks out his room; only to return with your small squishy and round unicorn plush that's usually sitting on your desk. "To hold onto." He winks, and you chuckle at that.
Jungkook really pays attention.
"So, Taehyung has told me you're a bit younger than me." Jungkook says to start casual chit-chat, trying to help your nervousness as his tattoo-gun starts to buzz to live. "Only a Year if I remember correctly." He says, and you nod.
"Yeah.." You say, and can't hide your dissapoinment flooding your voice. Jungkook, until now, only had relationships with girls older than him. He's even said before that he just likes having someone older than him around- which made you even more nervous around him.
"You sound upset about that." He chuckles, and gently holds onto your thigh as you jump a bit when he first presses the tip of the gun down. "Sorry. I'll be gentle." He lowly tells you, and you swallow.
Not the time Y/N, not the time.
"Uhm.." You say, fingers digging into the squishy plush in your hands. "I.. there's someone I like, but he.. only likes older girls, so.." You say, and Jungkook glances at you. You're already interested in someone? He continues to trace the lines, wiping afterwards to get the excess ink and blood off. "But I mean, then again I don't think I have a chance with him anyways." You chuckle, and Jungkook can't help but shake his head. Even if you're interested in someone else, he shouldn't let you have thoughts like that.
"Highly doubt that." He says. "If he doesn't see you, he's blind." He tells you, and you giggle, glad that he's able to make you feel a bit better about everything. "I'm serious." He says, and you nod at that, watching his inked arm flex every now and then as he draws with absolute concentration; black facemask hiding half of his face. You can see the way his eyebrows furrow, eyes fixated on his work as he moves with absolute routine. "Do I know the guy?" He casually asks, before he dips the tip of his gun in the tiny pot of ink again.
You don't know what to say.
He looks at you for a second, and decides not to dig. "You don't have to tell me. Sorry if I seemed nosy; didn't mean to." He apologizes, and you shake your head to let him know its fine. It's quiet for a moment afterwards, only the buzzing of his gun and your occasional whine of pain. "Sorry; it'll hurt a bit more now since I'm getting close to your inner thigh- that's always a little more sensitive." He comments, and you really hope he doesn't pay much attention to your panties.
When you can see his eyes stick to them for a second, you really want to just disappear.
He doesn't comment on it though. What is he suppsosed to say? He really doesn't want to make you uncomfortable, and considering that you already have a crush on someone else, he doesn't want to get himself in too deep as well. He simply works away, finally finishing the thin and delicate outlines of your piece- the first step, before he will see you again for color and shading. He finally connects the last line, and doesn't think twice about what he says next.
"Good girl."
It takes a second that feels way too long for the both of you to register the words, and Jungkook quickly occupies himself with turning off his gun and cleaning up your skin and his workspace to get the awkwardness out of his room. You try to instantly stand up, but his palm holds onto your leg- silently ordering you to stay put, which you do. He rubs something over the piece, before he gently lifts your leg to wrap it. "I'll give you a bottle of lotion for it. Leave that bandage on for.. I'd say until tomorrow morning at least. Afterwards, apply the lotion everyday to help it heal properly." He lectures you with a gentle voice, before letting you sit up.
"Thanks." You say, grinning eagerly at the now hidden artwork on your leg. Jungkook chuckles.
"We're not done yet, but I'll take it." He says. "I uh.." He starts, as you jump off the stretcher and go to take on your skirt. "uhm, you up for some fast food?" He asks, a bit hurried, before he can chicken out again. And he hates himself for a moment, because you had literally told him just half an hour before that you already had interest in someone else. But maybe you were too innocent to get his innuendo, maybe you wouldn't get that he was asking you on a date-
"Like a date?" You ask, and he really wants to hit himself.
"I mean, if you want it to be?" He says, swallowing as he averts his gaze, a sight very weird. His hand runs through his hair, chain around his neck and piercings on his ears clattering against each other and making sounds as he moves, his combat boots nervously tapping the floor a little. "It doesn't have to be.. I know you're already-"
"I'd love to." You say however, now fully dressed again, as you grin with your bright sparkling eyes.
And Jungkook feels like he's won the lottery.
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It's your third time laying on Jungkooks' stretcher like this- waiting for him to work on your art, finishing it today. But the energy is different.
Things are different between you two in general.
After some casual movie dates and rounds of overwatch, Jungkook had admitted to you that he had a crush. It was rushed, while he was driving, so he didn't have to look at you and instantly get hit by your reaction. But then, you had told him that you felt the same- and the two of you agreed to let things process from then on. Whatever would happen; you would let happen.
And Jungkook was starting to flirt with you.
It was a little weird to get close to him like that. While everyone seeing you two was a little taken aback- with your dresses and skirts, and colorful and almost childish personality, he seemed like the absolute opposite- quiet, all dark and dangerous while carrying your milkshake so you could put your phone away into your purse.
"Alright doll, let's finish this." He said with newfound enthusiasm, winking at you as you laughed at his demeanor.
"You seemed more excited than me!" You say, and he chuckles. "You're really desperate to have me gone?" You say in a playfully upset tone, and he simply huffs out a breath, before cockily looking at you for a second.
"That's not true." He says. "I'd just rather have you laid out somewhere else than in my studio, that's all." He casually says, and you shut your mouth at that, cheeks red as he laughs at your cute display of embarrassment. He routinely prepares your skin, before he starts his gun. "Too much?" He asks, and you know he's not talking about the pressure of his ink filled gun on your skin.
"No-" You start, and he now seriously speaks to you, voice a bit muffled through his facemask.
"Please tell me if I ever make you uncomfortable." He says. "You're not upsetting me if you tell me I'm going to far." He says, and you nod, knowing that he now needs a proper answer. Jungkook is way more attentive and romantic than people may think he is. He's a gentleman pulled out of a dictionary- careful and gentle with you, and always keen on getting to know you for you, and not for the person you like to portray yourself as. He wants to know what you like, what you don't like, what you dream of, and what you hate about yourself.
"Don't worry- I will." You say, watching him work on your skin. "Jungkook?" You ask, and he hums a reply to let you know he's listening. "Is it okay if I sleep?" You ask, and he chuckles.
"Didn't I tell you not to stay up for too long before I left yesterday?" He teasingly retorts back to you, and you pout at him- with no hard feelings behind it. He had left last night after eating with you for dinner at your place; and he did indeed tell you to go to sleep a little earlier since he knew you would have an early shift today, opening up the store. "I'm really tempted to say no." He says, eyes now on your skin again as he dips the tip of his gun in a pot of color. "You know, as punishment for not listening." He mumbles, and you almost don't catch it.
Almost.
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"Jungkook?" Taehyung stands in his doorway, finally finding him sitting at his desk. "Oh?" He says in a surprised tone, spotting your sleeping figure on his coworkers lap- head resting against the inside of his shoulder, with your arms around his middle.
"Yeah?" Jungkook asks, not at all shy or fazed by the fact that Taehyung is looking at you. "What is it?" He asks again, as Taehyung smiles, giving the younger man his small booklet that you usually give him every morning.
"Nothing left for today." He said. "Just wanted to tell you good work and send you home." The older one explains, zipping up his own jacket. "Guess she'll be coming with you?" He asks teasingly, but Jungkook doesn't bite the bait at all.
"Yeah. Don't burn the house down while we're gone, you two. " He says, slipping the booklet into his pocket before he pats your back. "Come on doll, let's go home." He tells you, waking you up at least enough to put on your shoes and lead you out the store to his car.
He buckles your seatbelt as the engine comes alive, radio playing its tune softly in the background as he drives you home. "You awake doll?" He asks, and you nod your head, turning towards him with barely open eyes. "You haven't had anything proper to eat today, so I'll make us some ramen at my place, ok?" He asks, and you nod, before your eyebrows scrunch up. "What is it?" He chuckles, and you now grow more awake.
"Wait- but if we eat at yours then you're gonna have to drive me home late." You say, and he shrugs. "Noo, Kook, what if you crash the car because you're sleepy?" You tell him with a whine, genuinely concerned for him, as he has the audacity to laugh. "Kookie, it's not funny I swear to god-!" You say, and he apologizes.
"I mean." He starts, casually dropping what he had wanted to ask you for a couple of weeks now. "You could always just stay over." He tells you, and you look at him, meeting his gaze at the red light he stops at, his head turned towards you for a moment until the lights turn green again.
"We.. would have to stop at mine so I could get some stuff though.." You mumble, and Jungkook looks at you with newfound enthusiasm, setting his turning lights to enter a different road.
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It's in a parking lot that you first unintentionally confront him with your biggest insecurities and flaws.
You've tripped over a stray stone you didn't see laying on the ground, leading you to fall onto your hands and scraping your knees open. Just like any normal human being, you dust yourself off, instantly hoping that Jungkook inside the shop hadn't seen you fail at something so basic as walking. You had carried some of the items you two had bought into the car while also returning the shopping cart while he had payed- and by the look on his face, he had definitely seen you.
He wasn't laughing, or hiding his grin, or anything alike. He looked concerned, taking his card back from the cashier before walking out the store, jogging towards you, who sat in the open trunk, ready to get laughed at. Even though somewhere deep in your mind you didn't think he would, past experiences had led to you now having that fear, no matter with whom. "Are you okay?" Jungkook asks, looking at you as he squats down to take a look at your bleeding knees. He reaches into one of the shopping bags, taking out a water bottle and a pack of tissues, before he wets it, one hand holding your leg by the backside of your knee, while the other carefully cleans the small wound. "You gotta be careful Baby." He chuckles a little- nothing like the laughter you had expected.
"I'm fine." You say, not looking up at him.
"It's okay to cry, you know?" He says, and you stay quiet, trying not to breathe too much as you desperately hold them back. "I won't laugh." He promises, deciding not to look at you as to give you a bit more space.
"People will stare though.." You quietly murmur towards him, and he finishes his job, before he goes to throw the now used tissue away in a nearby trashcan. When he returns, he's taking his jacket off, the item way too large on your form as he throws it over you, pulling the hood up as you look at him for the first time since your little accident, eyes sparkling with unshed tears when he pulls the sides of the hood towards him a little. "There." He says, a reassuring smile on his face. "Now no one can see you but me." He tells you. "And I will never, ever, laugh at you." He promises, and pulls your head against his chest, as you start to let go.
He really hates to see you cry- but he's glad that you're letting him in enough to let him see you this way.
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Jungkook is frustrated.
He tries not to really show it, because he doesn't want to blow up in your face like that, but then again, you're kind of the reason he feels the way he does. Because even though he thought you both had a genuine connection, you're yet to let him touch you.
And not just hugging and holding hands.
It's not that he's impatient- its because he knows you, at one point, wanted him that way as well. But something happened, something he didn't notice, that made you take ten steps backwards from him. You seemed to be retreating, giving up, and he has no idea what he had done to make you react that way.
As far as he knows, he had done everything right.
But then he sees them; the messages sent back and forth between you and Hana, a returning customer at the shop- well known to flirt with everyone around here. Jungkook himself had actually considered hooking up with her once a year back, simply to make her shut up, but then again, he wasn't into one-night-stands. And she had never truly been his type anyways.
'Ah yeah, just re-schedule that then, I don't mind at all! Just make sure we have enough time together, since we haven't had time to catch up on things recently, if you know what I mean.' She had sent, a week ago; exactly the timeframe you had started to distance yourself. He knew he shouldn't look into it, but then again- this was his business too. He had the right to know.
'Sure? I can give you an appointment at around 4 PM then, so you'll be the last one. Would that be okay with you? Again, sorry for re-scheduling on such short notice.' You had written, and Jungkook can't decide if you had been oblivious to her implication (which was bullshit), or if you were simply too polite to call her out. But it's the next messages that make him fume.
'Again, no troubles. As I said, I only care that its Jungkookie, I don't really trust anyone else with my body that way ;). 4 PM is perfect, you guys still close at around 6 PM right? He's got skilled hands, I'm sure we don't need much more time, if you know what I mean.' she has the audacity to write.
But its your answer that makes him fume.
'Good to know.'
"Jungkook?" You say, looking at the screen, as you suddenly dash forwards, trying to shut the screen off- as if that would make any difference. But he catches your wrist with ease, holding it in his palm as he looks at you.
"Do you think I'm sleeping with her?" He asks, and you try to escape his grasp; and he lets you, staying at your workspace however as he keeps you locked in place with his gaze. "Y/N." He urges, making you look away from him.
"It's none of my business." You say, shrugging. "I.. No, it's-" You start, but he cuts you off.
"No, finish that sentence. 'No' what?" He says, and you've never heard him talk like that.
"I just.. didn't think you'd.. do that." You meekly say, murmuring it as he tilts your head gently upwards to look at him; his face now more relaxed as he softly smiles.
"That's good that you think that way." He tells you. "Because I don't do that at all." He says. "She likes to start drama all the time- was probably bitter I turned her down so much. You know what?" He suddenly says, turning towards the screen as he clicks to change the account, opening his own Inbox as he starts to write an E-Mail.
'Appointment is cancelled, be glad I'm not suing you for defamation. JK.'
"Jungkook-" You say, trying to get him not to send it- but it's already gone. "Why would you do that? Just because I misunderstood?" You whine, and he chuckles, shutting down the system as he looks at the clock, signaling that it's closing time.
"No." He says. "But because I don't want her around anyways, and this gives me a proper reason." He tells you, ruffling your hair as he looks at you. "You coming?" He asks, and you nod, taking your bag and coat before following him out the shop.
In the car, you finally speak up. "Jungkook?" You ask, and he hums out a reply. "Do you.. think I'm attractive?" You ask, and he clears his throat at the unexpected question.
"I- what?" He asks, unsure what you mean.
"Just.. Namjoon said, that he thinks you.. see me as a friend only? Because I'm nothing like the girls you dated before.. If I misunderstood something here then Oh my god-" You start to ramble, and Jungkook laughs suddenly.
"You think I'm not into you?" He asks, and you shrug. "Of course I want to fuck you doll." He casually comments, and you can't help but feel your cheeks redden. "Wait- did you really think I didn't?" He asks, face showing genuine horror as he looks over at you.
"I mean.. you never really initiated anything so I thought.." You started, and he groans out.
Thank god you're staying the night.
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"Looks so pretty, does it?" He hums out, palm running over the tattoo on your thigh, delicate lines and well-placed shadings complimenting the colors perfectly. "You know why I love it most?" He starts, hand suddenly gripping the flesh for a moment, before he pulls you closer on his lap by the small of your back. "Because that's mine." He says, before he leans in, placing an open mouthed kiss against your pulse. "The ink that's under your skin, the design, the idea-" He mumbles against your skin. "And the body it's drawn on." You whine at his tone, dark and low, as he urges you back and forth on his clothed thigh- your panties suddenly feeling uncomfortable. "Isn't it like that, baby?" He asks, and you nod, furiously, and he chuckles. "Hm, you seem out of breath baby.." He grins at you, like a predator.
"Jungkook.." You whine, not knowing what you're asking for.
He wordlessly moves, helping you lay down on his bed before he crawls over you, his lips instantly attached to the skin of your neck, hands helping you out of your dress wordlessly, as he can't help but let his gaze linger on your body for a moment. "I can't believe that-" He says, pulling off your overknee socks. "-you'd ever think of yourself anything less than perfect." He says, placing a gentle kiss to the colorful image now forever placed under your skin by his skilled hands. He continues to display his affection over your skin, wandering over your stomach up to your chest, where he playfully bites just above your breast. He struggles with the front of your bra for a second, unsure how to open the undergarment without breaking it, as you help a little; letting them spring free. But only for a moment.
Because in the next, he's got them in his hands, palms gently moving over them, feeling their softness as he groans. "You're so sweet." he comments, as he finally kisses your lips, smile interrupting him every now and then. "So soft." Another kiss. "So delicate." Another one. "And all mine, yeah?" He asks, and you nod, smiling as he grins back, the expression making him look so young and carefree you can't help but wonder how anyone could ever think he's a bad man.
He's anything but.
He's so careful touching you, so delicate in moving his palms over your skin, as if its the most divine thing he's ever felt. He's still smiling, as if in a trance, while he can't stop kissing you. Your hands move into his hair- way softer than you thought it would be, and he groans into your mouth at the feeling of your fingers running over his scalp.
There's no urgency in anything he does.
He slowly moves again, hands opening your legs for him as he sits back on his heels, playfully pulling you closer by the backs of your knees, making you giggle. "You sound so sweet baby." He tells you, innocently, as if he's not currently placing his hand onto your center, ring finger collecting your already leaking wetness before he spreads it, moving his thumb over your most sensitive bundle of nerves while his ring finger enters you slowly. You whine at the feeling, not enough to get you as riled up as you'd like to be. Also; this is the first time you're genuinely experiencing foreplay. You don't know what to do- and Jungkook seems to pick up on that. "You good?" He asks, and you nod.
"I.." You say, breathless as he tilts his head, smile still present on his lips. "What should I do?" You ask, as his eyes widen.
"You?" He wonders, before he stops for a moment. "Don't tell me- this is your first time?" He asks, now genuinely worried he might've gone too fast.
"No.." You admit. "But uhm.. no one's ever, like.. you know, what you're doing.." You say, and that's when it clicks for him.
What kind of guys did you date before him that never gave you any attention like this? He's upset by it, but also weirdly cheered on by that simple fact; it gives him even more reason to make sure you'll get the most out of it. "Ah, I see.." He humms out, letting another finger stretch your entrance for him. "..well, I'm not like that." He explains, before he moves, face now close to your center- and you're unsure what he's going to do. "Trust me." He says, mumbles out, before his tongue places itself flat onto your clit, licking painfully slow as you move your hands over your mouth, trying to keep your noises in. "nuh-uh baby." He scolds, free hand pulling yours away. "Let me hear you." He demands, before he places his mouth back where it was.
Your mind is completely blank at this moment, the only thing you can really concentrate on being Jungkook, working you up so quickly you feel dizzy. It's new, and it's a little weird- but it's more than anything you've ever experienced before. And it brings you towards your end so suddenly you suddenly gasp out, back arching off the mattress as you grab at the sheets below, one hand grasping for Jungkooks, who lets you ride out your high to its fullest. "So pretty." He comments after wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, smiling at your blissed out state.
"Kook-" You say, moving as you sit up, less shy now that your brain is still clouded by pleasure.
"Ah- you don't have to." He tells you, but you shake your head, and he lets you. He slips out of his clothes, finally bare, and you would've taken time to look at all the different pieces of art decorating his body- if it wasn't for his cock, red and ready in front of you. Usually, you would've let your insecurities and doubts get the best of you. But this was Jungkook. And you wanted to really believe that nothing you would do could ever be judged by him. So there was no hesitation as your hands reached out for him, gently moving, before you took him in, your lips wrapping themselves around his tip, before you moved downwards, fitting as much as you comfortably could. Meanwhile, Jungkook himself was steadying himself with one hand on the mattress, while the other was buried into your hair, his own head thrown back as he closed his eyes.
Of course he had fantasized about this every now and then; but he had never thought you'd actually be comfortable doing it. And even if- nothing he could've imagined would've ever compared to the real deal happening. There was something absolutely mindblowing about the way that you handled him, your sweet and pretty presence looking so divine doing such a sinful act with him. He had to pull you off by your hair, gently, because any more, and he would've been a goner. "G-Good god baby." He chuckles, pushing you a bit so you were on your back again, reaching for his bedside table to search for a condom. "I swear to god if I- HAH!" He tells you in victory, hands making quick work of opening the foil package and wrapping the safety over his length. "I swear I would've run out butt naked to buy one if I wouldn't have found this." He says with a grin, making you laugh.
"That's weird." You comment, and he chuckles, entering you slowly as to not hurt you, his breathing labored as he still kept the lighthearted energy going.
"You think?" He asks, and you nod, giggling as your eyes close, the feeling of him filling you up too good to keep them open. "Hm no." He said breathlessly. "Would've probably put on some pants maybe." He says, before he starts thrusting. "Doesn't matter if it means I'd get to fuck you." He says, and you giggle again.
"Kook!" You scold him, and he still continues to thrust into you, exhaling forcefully as he kisses your neck.
"What?" He whines high pitched as if to imitate you.
"Be serious!" You tell him, but can't help your own smile either.
"Oh, why though?" He says. "We're making love, not war baby." He whispers into your ear, and you still laugh at it.
"I can't believe you!" You complain playfully, moaning out when he suddenly thrusts with more force, obscene noises now interrupting you two as he picks up his pace, clenching his jaw.
"And-" He starts. "I can't believe how fucking good you feel." He presses out, hand now reaching between the two of you as he brings you towards an earth-shattering orgasm, making you mewl as you can feel yourself bursting. "Good girl!" He praises, watching as you squirt all over him, his own orgasm hitting him soon after as he grunts out, finally slowing down until he stills completely, his mouth attached to your neck to place gentle kisses and teasing bites near your pulse point.
"I love you." He mumbles out, and your eyes sting.
Because yeah, you love him- you absolutely do, but hearing it from him, hearing it in such an honest and warm-hearted tone, having this final proof of his own feelings towards you, makes you emotional. "Baby, why're you crying?" He chuckles out of breath, wiping your tears as you smile, and finally look at him with glossy eyes.
"Cause I love you too." You say. "So much."
And he can't help but grin at you.
You really are the sweetest thing.
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You watch as Hana walks out of Taehyungs studio, arm wrapped up in clear foil as she walks towards your counter, pulling out her purse. "Taehyung agreed on 345." She says, until Taehyung yells another number out of his studio, making her eyes roll. She wasn't supposed to come back- but Taehyung had agreed to finish her piece at least. "Alright, here you go." She says, watching as you counted the money. "Does Jungkook work today?" She asks, and you nod. "I'm just gonna go say hi then. You can finish the receipt yeah?" She says overly sweet, and you're about to tell her that Jungkook doesn't want anyone entering without his permission, but he's already walking out his studio, black sweater and silver necklaces on full display as he walks towards you. "Jungkookie!" Hana exclaims, but her face drops almost chomically as she watches Jungkook walk up behind you, placing a kiss on your bare shoulder as he looks over it onto your screen.
"Oh, looks like I'm done for the day. You need anything Hana?" He asks innocently, one hand on your desk while the other rests on your chair behind your back.
"I- just wanted to apologize for uhm.. the emails. I didn't know you'd read them." She says, and you slowly close all programs, while Jungkooks humms out something.
"Yeah, I figured." He says, before he shakes his head. "As I said, I'm letting it go. No hard feelings." He says, shrugging, before he walks towards his studio again, stopping in his tracks for a second. "Ah, baby, can you text Jin-Hyung and ask him if we can come now? I'm actually starving I swear." He says, and you nod with red cheeks, pulling out your phone.
"Huh." Comes from Hana, as she takes the receipt from you. "I honestly.. would've never thought." She mumbles, before she simply leaves, without any more words.
Yeah. You would've honestly never thought either.
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(c)Bonny-Kookoo. Please consider supporting me on Ko-Fi.com/bonnykookoo. Thank you for reading.
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1K notes · View notes
imaginedxlan · 4 years ago
Text
loverboy (neville longbottom)
a/n: i’ve said it once and i’ll say it again, i am a SIMP for neville longbottom. also yall...  one away from 1k, how’d that happen? you guys rock my socks and i love you the absolutely most! sorry this one is kind of short i just liked the concept.
you’ve been friends with neville longbottom since first year. becoming comfortable with the shy boy and his frog over the years, you began calling him a nickname that makes him wish you would see him as anything other than your best friend.
warnings: zero baby just pure fluff
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neville doesn’t open up to just anyone. after years of being shut down in every conversation, left out of nearly every house activity, he’s built a wall to protect himself from the people of hogwarts who constantly make him feel less than. you’re one of the lucky ones. you’ve seen beyond his high walls, he’s opened up to you about his parents, his insecurities and eventually pulled him out of his shell to talk about girls with you.
the nickname started when he told you about his small crush on luna lovegood. he seemed so entranced by her, he kissed the ground he walked on. once you caught on to his pining, you’ve called him loverboy ever since. it’s not to be mean or tease him, you actually admired how much he devoted his time to thinking about her.
what you didn’t know, however, is that it was never luna lovegood he was talking about. when he would describe his feelings for luna her name was only a placeholder for yours. he’d loved you since the moment he laid eyes on you, thinking even your crooked teeth, frizzy haired eleven year old self was the most beautiful creature he’d ever see.
“good morning loverboy,” you call sweetly as you sit next to the dark haired boy in potions class. you never found this class particularly interesting, but being able to sit next to neville made it at least slightly more fun. his heart aches at the nickname, trying to conceal the blush that is creeping on his cheeks. “sleep well?”
“hardly,” he replies, still keeping up his façade. “harry talks in his sleep all through the night. keeps me and trevor awake for hours.”
you smile at the mention of his beloved frog. “oh my dear trevor! how is my favorite amphibian?”
neville can’t contain his smile or his heart that hammering in his chest. you’re the only person who’s ever shown interest in the things he likes, the things he goes on and on about for hours. you’ve never once stopped him from going off on a tangent about his mimbulus mimbletonia or how he’s lost trevor for the tenth time that week. you’ve never rolled your eyes when he comes to sit with you in the library. you’ve never shied away from sitting next to him in herbology though many students find his chiming in rather annoying.
“he’s good,” he replies, trying to stop himself from gazing at you for too long. “i think he misses you.”
you laugh at his response, you really do love that frog. “you better make sure i’m not replaced as trevor’s favorite girl when you finally make a move on luna,” you tease but his heart drops. he knows it’s only a joke but he can’t imagine loving anyone other than you. “if i’m losing one of my loverboys i don’t think my heart could take losing the other as well.”
except you could never lose him. he can’t think of a time when his heart would belong to anyone else. he couldn’t say the same for you. as much as he wants to be around you and knows the nickname isn’t meant to make him sad, it only reminds him of the fact that he’ll never truly be your loverboy. the time will come when you go for a weasley or maybe even that ravenclaw boy you’ve talked about in defends against the dark arts with you and neville isn’t quite sure his heart will survive it.
as professor snape opened his book at the front of the class, the class quieted down. veritaserum. you had heard about the potion, mostly from the weasley twins slipping it in their younger brother’s drink once or twice, but you’d never used it. neville begins to fidget nervously beside you, and you think you know why. privacy has always been very important to the boy and something forcing him to talk about his deepest darkest fears or worse, his parents, is probably eating away at him.
you’re wrong. he’s so nervous because he’s afraid he’ll slip up if he takes it and someone will accidentally ask him about you. he won’t be able to keep his secret anymore.
“s’alright nev,” you whisper to him, taking his hand in yours and squeezing it slightly. an act of intended comfort made him nauseous. “i won’t let anyone pull any secrets from my loverboy, promise.”
you give him a sweet smile which only makes his heart race more. you’re so beautiful, even without the potion he could’ve let that thought slip to you if he wasn’t too careful. as class goes on, he thanks his lucky stars he isn’t chosen for the demonstration. watching you brew the potion to perfection surely would have made it difficult for him to keep back all the feelings he has for you.
later in the evening, however, he did not get so lucky. the twins somehow convinced seamus and dean to slip a few drops of the potion they’d learned to make that morning into neville’s pumpkin juice at dinner. you didn’t notice or surely you would have taken it from them and scolded them for picking on the boy, but you were to engrossed in a conversation with hermione to catch it. neville almost immediately realizes what’s happened when seamus begins asking him questions.
“how your feeling, longbottom?”
“tired, honestly kind of sweaty, really think i need a shower after dinner,” he says before he can stop himself, he smacks his hand to him mouth and his cheeks go red. dean and seamus burst out laughing making all of you turn to the three of them.
“sweaty? why would you possibly be sweaty neville?” dean continues the interrogation.
“been nervous all day, especially in potions. couldn’t get my mind off the stupid veritaserum and if anyone would ask me about y/n,” neville replies with his cheeks turning more red by the minute. you now had your full attention in the boy and he couldn’t stop the word vomit spilling from his lips. “you should have seen her, she brewed the potion perfectly. she’s so smart. godric and beautiful, i-”
you immediately stop him by smacking your own hand to his mouth. “merlin’s sake what did the two of you do?”
dean and seamus have a cheeky grin spread across their lips. “fred and george gave us veritaserum to put in his juice, didn’t think this would happen.”
without a second thought you pull your best friend from the table and out of the great hall to spare him of any more embarrassment he would have to endure. neville follows you blindly, grateful that you didn’t sit there and start laughing at him. when you get to the common room it’s empty, everyone being at dinner. you pull him to sit on the couch in front of the fireplace, he couldn’t help but admire how beautiful you look in the glowing flame.
“are you okay?” you ask, pulling your hand from his to look into his eyes. “i’m sorry they did that nev, you didn’t deserve that.”
“i’m more than okay,” he replies with a lazy grin on his face before switching back to his stone cold face full of nerves. “i like it when we’re by ourselves, wish it happened more often.”
“what do you mean, loverboy?”
“i wish you wouldn’t call me that,” he snaps but immediately regrets his tone. “not if you don’t mean it.”
“what are you on about? i mean it.”
“not in the way i want you to mean it...”
you’re trying to wrap you’re mind around what’s happening. sure you and neville have always been close and you compliment eachother here and there but this is different. you don’t want to take advantage of him, not when he’ll tell you everything you want to know while you can sit back and enjoy the show. you swiftly get up and tell him you’ll be right back. he sits on the couch confused as he watches you run out of the room. you make it to the great hall and everyone is looking at you as if you’ve gotten answers out of him that they’d want to know but you ignore him. you lift the tainted cup that neville had drank out of just minutes ago and take a swig.
“y/n!” hermione shrieks and you swallow the liquid. “what do you think you’re doing!”
“getting answers.” you say simply before running out of the room. you don’t feel any different, maybe it hadn’t worked. once you reach the common room again neville is exactly where you left him. “back.”
“what’d you do?”
“i drank the veritserum too,” you tell him and his eyes go wide. “this is going to be a fair conversation.”
neville swallows the lump in his throat at the thought of the two of you being completely honest with each other. he’s partly afraid the truth he’s about to hear is that you only want to be his friend, or that him confessing his feeling for you will only push you away. but there’s another part of him that’s hopeful, you took the veritaserum so this would be “fair,” that has to mean something.
“what were you doing to say when i stopped you earlier?” you ask him. “you said ‘i’ but i stopped you.”
he tries his best to push down the answer but it keeps making its way up his throat. “i was going to say i couldn’t keep my eyes off you all class.”
blush creeps onto your cheeks but you’re not certain why. you noticed him looking at you in potions but you assumed he was trying to understand how to make the potion.
“you’re turn.”
he thinks for a while, unsure of what he should ask you. “do you like matthew, the boy you talk about in ravenclaw, like like him?”
“i like him as a friend, nothing else,” you say back, your heart beginning to race. “do you like luna?”
“i never did, i like someone else.” he answers. you wish it was your turn again, you want to ask him who, part of you knows he’s going to say you given what you’ve learned this evening. you reach out to hold his hand and his touch makes your skin burn. “have you ever thought of us as more than friends?”
you want to say yes, you know it the answer he wants to hear, but it’s not the truth. you can’t lie to him even if you wanted to. before this moment, you only thought of him as a friend. not because you dislike him or think he’s unattractive, it’s just all he’s ever been to you. you take a deep breath and turn your eyes down to the floor.
“honestly, no,” you say back, neville swears he can hear his heart break within him rib cage. his heart burns at your response. he’s gotten his answer. “when did you start to think of me as more than a friend.”
he never came out and said he had feelings for you, but you’ve connected the dots. everything he’s answered, all the questions he’s asked points to him looking at you as more than just his friend. you’re not sure how to feel about it.
“first year, the minute you spoke to me i couldn’t help but think you were the most beautiful girl i’d ever seen, i still do, ” his words make your heart burst. you turn your head to meet his eyes again. they’re burning into you’re gaze. “what is it about me that’s made you only think of me as a friend, do you think i’m ugly?”
“godric no!” you say a bit too quickly for your own liking. “i never thought of you that way because that’s all we ever were neville, friends. i noticed how handsome you were last year, the long hair suited you, but i think you look nice any way you are. i had a dream about you at the christmas last year, i think that’s when i noticed how handsome you were. i guess i just never entertained the thought because you never gave me the impression you wanted anything more than this.”
he feels less shattered, less like you just ripped his heart out with your bare hands. hearing that you think he’s handsome sent butterflies to stomach. he’s quiet and so are you.
“do you want to stop?”
“no, i have another question,” he replies, pulling his hands from yours and backing away from you. you miss his touch already. maybe you did like him a little more than you thought. he braces himself for what’s about to come out of his mouth, for your reaction to what’s about to come out of his mouth. “if i asked to kiss you would you say no?”
“no.” you tell him quietly, if you thought your heart couldn’t pound any faster, it did. it feels like it’s about to jump from your chest. “do you want to kiss me?”
“merlin yes,” he almost whispers. he doesn’t move from his spot, eyes avoiding yours at all costs. always being the braver of the two of you, you take matters into your own hands. you pull yourself closer to him and rest your hand upon his cheek, forcing him to make eye contact with you again. you suck in a breath, the closest the two of you had ever been. “i’ve never kissed anyone before.”
“i know.”
you lean forward only a few centimeters until your lips are barely touching. you hesitate only because you know after this moment you can’t go back to being just friends again, this is going to change everything. even so, there’s like a magnetic pull between you too, you’re craving the feeling of his lips against yours.
while still deep in your thought and hesitations, your eyes drilled shut as you try and decide what to do, you feel his lips press against yours and you melt. it’s better than either of you could have imagined. while neville had be dreaming of this moment for six years, you had only just begun thinking about him in this way minutes ago. you place your free hand on the side of his neck and he places his on the small of your back, pulling you closer into him. You move yourself so that your sat on top of his thighs, attempting to expel any space between the two of you. his hands rest on your hips just before you pull away from him to catch your breath. his eyes flicker between yours, looking for an answer to what you’re feeling.
“i’m sorry,” he says sheepishly, thinking the worst. “do you want to stop? we can pretend this never happened.”
“i never want to stop.”
you connect your lips with his again, slinging your arms around his neck to feel the closeness again. you know he’s never done anything like this before, he’s probably nervous out of his mind, so you attempt to ease his worries by guiding his actions. in just the few minutes you’ve spent with your lips on his, you’ve because obsessed with the feeling. you can hear how heavily he’s breathing as his hand moves from your side to be entangled in your hair. you can’t help but smile, this moment is pure bliss.
you eventually pull away from each other, you decide it’s best to keep this night to just his first kiss. you lean forward and plant a soft kiss to the side of his neck before burying your face in the soft skin. eventually his breath evens out, and he moves his arms to wrap around you.
“what happens now?” he asks, hoping the veritaserum can give him some sort of clear view into your brain.
“i don’t know,” you reply, it’s honest, you have no idea what happens from here on out. “what do you want to happen?”
“i want to kiss you like that a million more times,” he breathes out which makes you laugh into his neck. looks like ther veritaserum hasn’t worn off just yet. “can we just sit here for a minute so we don’t have to think about what’s gonna come?”
“you read my mind, loverboy.”
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skellebonez · 4 years ago
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Can you one about Cursed AU with father(kind of overprotective) Macaque and Mk with prompt 79 please?
This is set after they get back because you know... some scars are kind of hard to see under fur. (I may or may not have used one of my headcanons for Mac here just because this is a fill and not a specific scene meant to be in the AU.) The Cursed AU is by @winterpower98 !
Warning: mentioned child neglect, description of bad childhood injury, mentioned life threatening injury (but not to the same character). No graphic description.
How did you get that scar?
Macaque wasn’t entirely surprised he had never noticed the scar before. Sure, he had naturally seen the back of MK’s neck before, especially when he’d have to treat wounds on their now completed journey, but he never made it a point to really look at it in detail. Why would he before now? Now he had a reason, given the nasty gash along the lower back of his neck and upper back he’d gotten from a recent battle with other demons, and it was a lot more noticeable without mussed up fur and loose hair let down from his headband blocking the scar tissue from being seen.
A growl sounded from the back of his throw, low and soft as he tried to not let the other hear it. He attempted to keep his voice level, not let anything show through it just yet. “How did you get that scar?”
“Huh?” MK sounded off in confusion, barely turning around to glance at Macaque before recognition lit in his eyes. “OH! You mean this one?” He raised his hand, finger brushing against the mark. It wasn’t particularly big and it was actually partly hidden by some of the loose hair on the back of his head, but as MK parted the hair a bit Macaque could see it was bigger than he had originally thought. “I, uh, I got that when I was little.”
“How little?” Macaque asked, and there was no hiding the small amount of venom that seeped into his words. He didn’t allow his anger at the memory of how he was told MK’s parents treated him move far enough to affect his work, however, as he meticulously held pressure to the cut he had finally cleaned and applied medicine to. It should be fine, once he applied proper dressing, with no need for stitches if the second round of medicine worked as intended.
"Like... 6ish?" MK answered after a moment of thought, nodding his head slightly as he put his hand down. "Yeah, I think I just turned 6 cause I'm pretty sure it was after my birthday."
"And what happened?" Macaque lifted the pressure gauze just a bit to see if the bleeding had stopped, not enough to remove it from the wound, and when he was happy with the result he grabbed tape and bandages and more gauze to finish dressing it. "If you don't mind answering."
"I don't... really remember," MK said softly, squirming a bit as Macaque accidentally pulled the gauze. "I remember what the doctors told me. I'd been home alone, I heard my dad yelling something when he got home... and then I woke up in the hospital. Apparently I'd fallen down the stairs and hit a lamp and some of it got... stuck. I passed out when I saw the blood and had a panic attack."
At the mention of his father Macaque couldn't help but growl again, unable to hide its volume. He wasn't particularly fond of his parents at the best of times, but it seemed the more he learned about them the more there was to dislike them for than original thought. "At least you were treated." His tone gave away his frustration he felt.
"Yeah," MK agreed, tensing suddenly in confusion as Macaque's hands moved from the back of his neck to his hair. His confusion seemed to disappear as soon as his fingers started moving in a familiar motion, grooming through his hair for dirt and bugs and anything else that might be in there. Macaque was hardly aware he was doing this. "Yeah, I ended up being ok, obviously. But now I've got that scar and a knowledge that I have panic attacks and I make sure to look before I accidentally fall down stairs!”
Macaque did it before he realized what he was doing, and he would never admit it if asked and would deny it until the day he died, but he wrapped his arms around MK and growled again before those growls became something else. Something softer. A purr.
“Listen, Kid, it’s a good thing you’re ok and all,” Macaque said, tail thumping away beside them. “But maybe it’s not a good idea to talk about grievous bodily injury so casually.”
“Didn’t you show me one of the scars on your back and tell me ‘and this is where I was impaled 356 years ago’ when Monkey King almost threw me into a tree yesterday?” MK asked with a chuckle.
“That’s different and you know it,” Macaque defended haughtily, tail thumping harder and purr loudening as MK laughed at him. “I can come back from impalement, you can’t, I needed to demonstrate.”
“Sure you did,” MK acquiesced with a smile, reaching up and patting one of Macaque’s arms around him softly. “Thanks for... you know, patching me up. And listening to me. I appreciate it.”
“Don’t mention it, Kid. Literally.” Macaque removed his arms from MK, scowl evident on his face as he helped the younger to his feet. He handed him back his jacket and scarf and crossed his arms as he watched him put them on with only slight difficulty. “I’ll come find you when it’s time to change the bandage and then you’ll be able to just leave it for another day. You should be fine in a couple days. And one last thing,” Macaque said, closing his eyes with a softer half a scowl now on his face. “Don’t die.”
“No promises, Pops!” MK said before rushing off, and he completely missed the caught off guard and comically wide eyed expression on Macaque’s face.
The Kid called him “Pops”... he needed to talk to Wukong immediately.
END AUTHOR’S NOTE: I may or may not have lost an hour of time looking for this specific set of art just because I wanted to know what MK called Mac...
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fanfiction-funtime · 3 years ago
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IM SORRY IVE BEEN SLACKING ON HYPING YOU UP
Anyway I’m reading through the Things ™ and wow
Can I request something? There’s an idea I’ve been pondering for a bit. You know already who I’ll ask for, I’m guessing.
What if the reader fell for Xiao in Genshin, in a state where they constantly daydream about him. Rather than working on scenarios and scenes, it happens in real time.
Meanwhile, in another universe, Xiao in a modern setting has fallen for a Genshin character- the reader. He daydreams about them in the same manner.
To the reader, their Xiao is a guardian yaksha, Golden adeptus, and doombane itself.
To Xiao, his (y/n) is something just as exalted. I tend to use a seelie, since they’re an immortal race of ancient and now weak gods.
What they both don’t know is that they’re actually meeting in those daydreams. It’s not just imagination and the longing for company, but an actual relationship with another person.
Bonus points if it’s some sort of soulmate au and they physically can’t find each other and eventually realize it.
I’ve never told anyone about this before, and I’m excited to see what you do with it! I might work with it one day, just not yet.
(Hoo boy, this will be tough, but I'm sure I can do it! Xiao might be a bit ooc as I'm getting his personality from wiki and fanon, as well as modern au [hopefully] gives him less trauma and a slightly different personality.)
(Also, I can't do sad endings. So a bit of deus ex OC at the 3rd part)
---------------------------
Your game
---------------------------
Your pov: the dream eater of your dreams
---------------------------
You are (y/n)(l/n), and you are in the saddest love story this side of the lake.
Ever since you saw him in that first quest you were in love!
You were just a teen though, so it wasn't real right? After all, your red string wasn't connected to the screen.
Well, your string isn't connected to anything...
Y-your just a late bloomer though right?
(Ten years later)
Your now in your twenties and you still love Xiao!
He permeates your thoughts like how lovers do, you feel an inexplicable hurt in your chest similar to what many describe feeling when they see their soulmate prior to their string appearing, not to mention whenever you aren't busy you feel like you're...slipping...in...in and...
[Daydream]
It was happening again.
It was like a daydream but more...real.
Like a lucid dream.
You saw your string, just like so many other times, and you followed it.
You ran and ran, turquoise clouds parting and making paths for you to find him.
Him..
You ran and ran, glad that atleast in some way your delusions can give you some semblance of true love.
You saw the..wait..that's not the inn.
Well it is the inn, but more modern. And there was a school next to it, and a small village not far away.
Another of thing was that you were in some kind of yellow armor, it reminded you of those baby geovisnaps from genshin impact(that are absolutely BULL-)
You went into the elevator, which seemed more ancient than usual.
And when you reached the balcony, you saw him. But he was different.
Instead of the Yaksha you usually saw, you were greeted by an equally shocked man in a martial arts gi. But it was him.
But different.
You reached out, and he did the same.
And you touched
---------------------------
Xiao's pov: the midsummer knight of his dreams
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(Clarifying: in this version Liyue is based on European mythology and aesthetic while Mondstadt is based on Chinese. So you are a fae hunting knight rather than a demon hunting yaksha)
Xiao had always been reserved, but what happened to him as a kid drew him further into his shell.
Abusive parents, accidentally giving his sister trauma induced amnesia, he felt the weight of his actions like atlas feels the world on his shoulders.
Luckily, two people took him and his sister QiQi in: QiQi's doctor Baizhu, and Xiao's therapist(and Baizhu's husband) Morax.
It was difficult to come out, even after Xiao stopped feeling so at fault. So he mostly stayed in his room and played video games.
That is until he met you.
Well met is the wrong word here.
He saw your character in his world's version of genshin impact: tribunal eruption
The way you used your weapon, the way your armor shined in the night as you rode to his wanderer. The smile you gave as he handed you (favourite food).
But most of all, the way you used fighting styles from so many martial arts and hand to hand combat techniques.
From irish kickboxing to karate, from assassination arts in ancient history of japan to systema.
It awoken two things in him: first was his want to learn martial arts and make his own.
The second was his love for you.
But don't worry, your physical attributes only drew him in. Your personality made him stay.
Years went on, he became a martial arts instructor for his own style, and moved into an apartment near a small village.
He started teaching at a school nearby, he even gets a discount on rent for giving free lessons to the owner's sons, Ivan and Viktor.
He's also convinced those two have a crush on him but it's pointless.
After all, he was a dream eater, a common group of people who have a strange ability to find their soulmate.
Specifically, the ability to have "lucid daydreams" where they meet their soulmate.
But he must be defective. After all his soulmate kept appearing as...well you. As a knight that would meet him on the balcony every night.
He assumed maybe it was your voice actor or designer, but neither of them have had the lucid daydreams.
He began thinking he'd never find his soulmate
Until one daydream...
He was on the balcony again, like a prince awaiting his knight to rescue him.
But it was different.
The apartment complex he lived in now looked much smaller, as did the tree it was built around, and the building looked far more ancient in design yet so much younger in age.
And the village and school nearby aren't there anymore.
Oddest change of all is that his gi he was wearing just a second ago is now similar to the outfit warn by the mondstadt demon slayer Corps
And when you arrived at the balcony, he noticed a red string, one that connected your heart to his. But you weren't wearing your armor, you were wearing casual, modern clothes.
He knew it was stupid, after all you can't touch your soulmate in the daydreams. But he felt compelled to....to reach out and..
You touched him.
---------------------------
nothing never comes between you, and nobody helps you get together
---------------------------
(3rd person pov)
He really did find it annoying, how often mortals would find themselves in the wrong dimension, especially when it's because the writer wants drama. And now he's written in to solve the problem.
Ah well, it's his job.
(2nd person pov)
You didn't know how to feel. You were touching Xiao...and you weren't waking up. Was this...real?
"You... you're real...different but....still the person I love...." Xiao seemed to be equally in a trance at the prospect
"yeah...so are you..."
The armor you wore melted away, and you cant see it but Xiao's fictional clothes melted from him as well. You were both equally real, in your own reality.
But you knew it couldn't last.
"When the daydream ends, I wont be able to see you anymore," Xiao said with a sea of tears in his eyes, "We've actually met now...and now...now the dreams will end."
You lean into him, "then let's make this dream the best one we've ever had."
Your about to kiss when-
"Terribly sorry about this!" A childlike voice called, "you know, interrupting your moment and all that. See for the sake of narrative, you both were put in separate universes. And it's my job to give you a happy ending."
When you both looked, you saw a child made of bone climbing into reality from some kind of hole.
"Now just wait a moment aaannnd-"
The turquoise clouds cleared, and the world rippled into a conjoined reality between genshin impact and tribunal eruption.
"Welcome to your dream world, enjoy eternal love!" The child said as he crawled back into the hole and it closed.
When he was gone, you both observed the world around you: a beautiful mix of aesthetics surrounded you, and both your armor and his adeptus clothing were on you both.
You gazed into eachother's eyes.
He placed one hand on your cheek while another held your hand, "I'm not good with speaking..speaking my emotions..but I....maybe my actions can do that for me..."
You felt your red string radiate with the warmth of love, likewise Xiao felt his daydreams dissipate like a haze leaving his mind.
You grab his hand and place your free hand on his cheek, mirroring his love, as you always have.
"Xiao...your very existence tells me all I need to hear.."
You both leaned in, and kissed.
Two lovers, in a dream made reality,
A paradise for all eternity.
---------------------------
I feel it kinda fell apart with the deus ex, but I think I scraped it back together in the end!
I hope it's good enough for what you envisioned buddy, I tried my best!
(Also I think you deserve something just as good as what happens to the reader insert in this fic, story)
(Tagging: @golden-wingseos (this is the writing blog for someone you told to tag you), and @storytravelled (just to keep the idea of tagging in mind))
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Ok modern zuko would be an expert at breakdancing and sokka would be the guy who just bi-panicks whenever he does
(whoops, my hand slipped and I accidentally wrote a modern au headcanon turned zukka karate au one-shot) 
Okay but consider this instead: Zuko doesn’t know how to dance for shit and has horrible rhythm, but he is a GOD at martial arts. He’s been doing some type of style since he was a kid and is a full black belt by the time he hits high school. Martial arts was always something he excelled at, but it was also something that made him feel more secure. It was something he could work on to help him protect himself from his home life, even if it wasn’t enough most times. He specifically excels in weapons forms (I’m thinking twin sais) and you DO NOT want to spar with him. Because he may be skinny and shorter, but he’s quick and can hit hard at just the right spots. 
When he was younger he was obsessed mainly because he felt that belt rankings and trophies from competitions were a way to prove himself to his dad, but when he moved in with Iroh (who encouraged him to keep it up and was so proud of how talented and passionate he was about it), he basically used it in place of talking about his feelings. He didn’t talk about his home life or the shit Ozai did, instead, he put all his energy into his black belt levels, learning new weapons forms, and eventually into teaching new students as a junior instructor. 
At school, he’s awkward and asocial and just doesn’t have the energy for people. Zuko has little patience for asshole classmates who ask intrusive questions about his scar or spread rumors about where he got it. He eats lunch in his English classroom and would be a complete shut-in if Iroh didn’t get him to work part-time at the Jasmine Dragon. But in the dojo, he’s focused and is able to direct his energy into improving his forms and teaching younger teens. 
One of his newer students transferred from a different dojo after moving from a different state. He’s actually a freshman at Zuko’s high school but it’s not as if Zuko really interacted that much with him. This kid, Aang, is as talented and dedicated as he is, but has a long way to go to learn all the new katas. Zuko’s been dubbed the ‘scary’ trainer at the dojo. He’s the serious one who will yell if someone is goofing off and everyone’s seen that he has no problem using full force in a demonstration (little kids love him and he’s super nice to them, but he teaches the 12-15 age range). Plus there’s that scar, which doesn’t make him the most initially welcoming person. But this new kid Aang just latches onto Zuko immediately. He says hi to Zuko in the halls at school and works on his katas outside of regular practice times. At first Zuko thinks this sickeningly positive kid is annoying as crap, but warms up to him. He likes that Aang cares about martial arts and isn’t nice as a show, he’s just genuinely nice. 
And maybe he sees Aang hanging around school with a sophomore girl and her brother who just might be in Zuko’s calc class and English class. 
And maybe Zuko thinks this guy is insanely attractive and somehow incredibly funny even though most of his humor consists of the worst puns imaginable. 
But obviously, Zuko hasn’t attempted to ever actually talk to this guy. The most that he could classify as ‘talking’ to the cute, funny guy on the robotics club is the one day in English class when he had to respond to someone’s dumbass comment about Macbeth with what ended up being a ten minute spoken essay about obvious motifs and symbolism. To which Mr. Puns and Ponytail was very obviously paying great attention to and even gave Zuko a smile and thumbs up for. 
Zuko knows it’s pointless to engage. After all, he’s a senior and he doesn’t have any friends anyway. There’s no point in making any this year. Crushing on this guy from the comfortable position of the other side of the room is totally good enough for him. Totally. This is fine. He’s fine.  
Besides, he’s got competitions and if he doesn’t secure the regional championships this year he’s never going to get the chance after he goes to college. And he’s got his kids to train. Aang in particular is gearing up for his first debut into this area’s tournament. 
The tournament’s in October and usually, Zuko focuses on his own matches and performances, but Aang really wanted him to watch his set. So on this day, he stands on the sides of Aang’s zone instead of obsessively going through his katas in a corner.He’s not going to be able to watch the whole set because it overlaps with his own weapons portion, but he stands on the side and gives Aang a reassuring look that, ‘don’t worry, you’ll do great, you’re a talented kid,’ when his student looks over to him nervously. 
And wouldn’t you know it? Aang brought some friends to come watch. And one of them is Mr. Zuko’s Big Gay Crush. 
“Oh, hey Zuko,” are the words that come out of this guy's mouth that give Zuko a near-stroke. And damn if this guy’s eyes aren’t blue and pretty and he usually wears his hair in a ponytail at school, but now he’s wearing it down and Zuko wishes he could take screenshots with his brain because holy moly. 
“Hey.” Is the best that Zuko can get out of his dumb mouth. “You’re Sokka.” 
“Aang invited us to come watch,” Sokka nudges his head to indicate the ‘us’ includes his younger sister, who Zuko doesn’t know the name of. “How do you guys not get heatstroke during these things? It’s like a million degrees in here.” 
“Oh the gi’s pretty cold, I mean, it’s got air and stuff.” 
Zuko decided right there that he would be completely fine with being struck by lightning. Of course, that’s what his stupid brain would come up with. Of course, that’d be the thing he’d say in front of one of the smartest guys in his class. 
They watch Aang perform his set for the judges. Zuko recognizes that Aang took his advice when he said that he wasn’t putting enough force into his hits. He’s never seen Aang be as, well, aggressive isn’t the right word, but he’s definitely putting more power into his form. Zuko wouldn’t admit it, though, but only part of his attention was for Aang at the moment. The other part was for Sokka, who was smiling bright and pumping his fists when Aang completed a row of kicks. 
The small part of Zuko’s brain that wasn’t being taken up by watching Aang or trying to act normal around his crush noticed the clock on the wall indicating that the weapons portion would be starting in five minutes.  
“I’ve got to go do a thing so I’ll just, um, go do that now.” 
“Are you competing too?” Sokka asked. 
To this question Zuko just holds up his sais and raises his eyebrow as if to say ‘it’s a tournament, what do you think?’ Because yeah, he knows Sokka’s super smart, he’s seen him churn out calc answers at the speed of light and noticed his name on the robotics club awards update on the school’s website, but he’d also seen Sokka eat 5 packs of fundip at once on a dare and unironically wear a ‘women want me, fish fear me’ t-shirt for most of junior year. Somehow he had managed to fall for the smartest dumbass on earth. 
“Oh yeah, right.” Sokka eyes the sais and then looks right at Zuko’s face, “Aang says you’re really good.” 
Zuko decides that thinking about Aang talking to Sokka about him was something he didn’t need distracting him during his set. That was something he could anxious about later. 
“Hopefully good enough for those five assholes,” Zuko replies, gesturing to the panel of judges in the weapons section of the gymnasium. To his shock, Sokka laughs. It’s a nice laugh, too. And Zuko really hoped he could blame the blush that was one-hundred-percent creeping up his face on the lack of AC. 
“You know, you’re pretty funny man,” Sokka tells him. Zuko has no clue how to take that compliment, but he really does need to go. 
“Right,” he grins nervously and shifts his left foot around to bounce away, “well I have to go do my thing.” 
“Good luck!” 
That’s where Zuko thinks the beginning and end of his interaction with Sokka would be. 
The weapons portion thankfully goes by age. And since Zuko’s one of the youngest competitions, he gets to go first for his sai katas. This is what literal years of training have prepared him for. At regionals last year, the second advanced kata got him placed high enough to qualify for states. This is what he’s good at. He tells himself that a thousand times before starting his set. 
There’s not a thought in his head as Zuko goes through the form. The sais glide through his fingertips with every jab, block, and hook. The imaginary opponent doesn’t stand a chance. He’s cool and competent and graceful. It’s therapeutic in a sense. There’s enough adrenaline to make Zuko feel like he’s worth something, but more importantly, he knows he’s nailing this. Whatever the judges say about it, he knows that he’s perfected this form after practicing it at least a thousand times over three years. 
The judges agree with him. He’s the first competitor of the weapons portion but there isn’t really a doubt in their minds about who’s going to place. 
Zuko zones back in to the gym after bowing to the panel. He walks off, feeling lighter and letting a satisfactory smile take over his face. 
He expects the hug from Uncle and the proud smile from Sensei Piandao, but what he doesn’t expect is to see Sokka, eyes wide as globes, staring at him from the other side of the mat. 
Because what Zuko doesn’t know is that the second he turned his wrists in his first form during his hooks, Sokka’s brain went into Full Bi Panic Mode. 
And Zuko thinks the one conversation where he couldn’t talk like a human and wanted to die for most of it would be the only time Sokka would decide to willingly talk to him. Zuko is dead wrong. Sokka, in fact, has decided that this, this is the guy his Disaster Bi Brain has decided to latch onto. Sokka’s brain and all his squishy feelings have apparently decided to attach to this aloof kid with the scar who reserved his voice for eloquent, impassioned speeches about dramas and was apparently an actual god with weapons. Sokka decides that Zuko could roundhouse kick him in the side and he’d thank him. And right now Zuko’s looking at him with a dumbfounded expression, prompting Sokka to remember how to function so he can go over to congratulate Zuko and maybe ask if his dojo provides a free trial. 
So yeah, that one conversation ends up decisively not being the end of anything. 
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whumpmatsus · 3 years ago
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Hi! 👋 Two things! First, a fic request (again Ichimatsu whump because I'm sorry but I have to): Ichimatsu takes a hit meant for one of his brothers (be it accidental or on purpose) and is pretty badly injured. Cue the rest of the Matsu Bros. to the rescue!
And second, um...would you be okay with it if, let's just say hypothetically, I made fan art of some of these fics? 😺
FIRST OF ALL thank you for this because it's LITERALLY the longest thing I've written on this blog so far!! so I hope u enjoy it fully uwu
Matsu Bros plus a cameo by Mama Matsu!! <3
second... YESSSS THAT IS ALWAYS DEFINITELY OKAY!!! aaaaaaa you flatter me <3 <3 <3
-
When Ichimatsu first wakes up in the hospital, he doesn’t remember why he’s here. Hell, he barely even remembers who he is.
All he really knows initially is that he’s in a lot of pain. It hurts to breathe, his face is kind of numb in spots, and his leg feels weirdly positioned, plus heavy and uncomfortable. His shoulder feels kind of sore… as does his wrist.
There’s also some strange fog drifting around his mind that’s making it difficult to really focus on anything.
He feels a hand in his own. Not very tight… he thinks it’s someone giving just enough pressure to let him know they’re here. That he’s not alone. That’s comforting, he thinks.
Then he starts to remember things.
He was out walking with some of the others; Karamatsu and maybe Totty? What they were doing is a little fuzzy and isn’t coming to him instantly. He just recalls they were together, walking on the sidewalk. They came to a crosswalk and waited their turn. Karamatsu, as the eldest out of the three, stepped forward first to cross.
Ichimatsu thinks Karamatsu’s intention was that he would hold Totty’s hand to keep the youngest safe while they crossed, and Ichimatsu could follow after them. He doesn’t believe Totty had any objections.
They waited. They followed all the rules they were supposed to. The crosswalk light told them they were allowed to go.
It was someone else who broke the rules, tearing through a stop sign, the car headed right for his brothers. He… thinks he remembers Totty had only just come forward to grab Karamatsu’s hand, so he wasn’t quite there yet. Karamatsu was the one in the most danger.
He doesn’t remember much else. Running forward, pushing his baby brother behind him and yelling for his big brother to move.Then an impact. A lot of pain. Black and nothingness and warmth.
Now he’s awake. Putting the pieces together, he’s pretty sure he shoved Karamatsu forward and ended up getting hit by that car.
He thinks, in his haze, that the car should have hit Karamatsu, because he was the one who went first, because things happened so fast. But he’s glad it didn’t happen that way.
A couple groans catch the attention of whoever’s in the room, and he gets a squeeze to the hand. “Ichimatsu? Honey? Are you awake?”
“Mmh…” It hurts a little to move his head. He does it anyway, getting a glimpse of his mother. “… Mom…?”
It looks like she’s smiling… relieved, maybe. “Yes! Yes, my sweet boy, Mama is here.” She reaches her free hand over to gently stroke his hair. It feels nice. “Thank goodness. How do you feel?”
He closes his eyes. “I hurt.”
“Well, I should hope so! I’d be worried if you weren’t in a lot of pain right now. Do you remember what happened?”
Although he tries to move around, it’s difficult simply because it’s so painful. “Uh, yeah, kind of… I got… hit by a car, right? ― H… hey… Karamatsu and Totty… where are they? Are they okay?”
“Yes, dear, they’re both fine. Karamatsu has a couple of scrapes, but nothing serious. You, on the other hand, are lucky, young man. You’ve got a broken leg, a couple of broken ribs, and a broken wrist. You did have a dislocated shoulder, but they got that back into place. The doctor said it could have been much worse. She said you got off easy compared to some people who get hit by a car.”
She combs his bangs back in a way that mitigates any anger or frustration in her next words. “What were you thinking?”
“The car was coming for Karamatsu…” He frowns as the memory surfaces again, in slightly better detail. Damn. “… And Totty didn’t see it… he was gonna step out, too…”
Everything seemed to happen so fast. How the hell did he manage to get his older brother out of the way and keep his younger brother out of the way when everything happened so fast?
Matsuyo sighs and continues stroking his hair. “Oh, I know… they were both in tears when we all arrived. Totty was inconsolable… saying that Karamatsu would be dead if you hadn’t run forward and that he thought you were dead because you weren’t responding. I should be mad that you scared your brothers… but…”
She leans forward to kiss his forehead. “… You did a brave thing, Ichimatsu. Mama is very proud of you. I just don’t like any of you boys hurt… if you’re inclined to do this again, pull the other person back instead of taking their place. You silly boy,” she adds with an affectionate smile.
“Hah…” he laughs weakly, wincing at the pain in his chest. “Sorry, Mom. Everything hurts… I wanna go home.”
“Mhm, they’ll probably let you go pretty soon now that you’re awake. That’s the main thing they were waiting for, I think.” She moves her hand down to pat lightly at his forearm.
“Don’t worry. You’ll be home before you know it, and your family will take good care of you.”
-
Coming home is kind of weird.
Ichimatsu can’t really walk on his own. Since his leg is broken, the doctor gave him a crutch that he can use with his good hand, but it’s an awkward movement and leaves him feeling unbalanced. It’s just easier to lean on one of his brothers to walk ― in this case, Choromatsu has volunteered to help if Ichimatsu needs to walk somewhere. Though… he gets the feeling that the others would be more than happy to volunteer if the third eldest were somehow busy when he needs to get up.
Every motion, from sitting up to reaching for things to just breathing, is painful thanks to the broken ribs. There’s nothing that can really be done for those, so he’s evidently got to just suffer. He remembers the doctor saying they should feel quite a bit better in a couple of weeks. Most of this is going to take a month or more to fully heal, which is… according to Osomatsu, a ‘major boner-killer’.
Sitting around doing nothing but being in pain is going to be the end of Ichimatsu. He’s sure of that. He can’t go outside to feed the cats, and it’s difficult to cuddle with them inside with all his injuries. That alone is pretty depressing.
The pain medication they sent him home with is also a little frustrating. The first time he takes it, it makes him so tired he sleeps right through dinner.
He falls asleep on the couch in the spare room, he knows, because it’s where he has to be set up for now. There’s noway he can sleep in the futon with everyone else while he tries to heal; that runs the risk of running into someone, or having one of his brothers accidentally run into him.
His leg’s in a cast and his wrist is in a splint, to protect them as they fix themselves, but if those areas have someone roll onto them, it’ll probably result in more damage. Which means more pain and more time added to his recovery.
It’s apparently a bad idea to sleep on the couch. When he wakes up, everything is sore and screaming in pain. Justified, unfortunately, since he fell asleep in the same position he was relaxing in.
Someone else… is here? There’s something warm pressed up against his side.
He glances over to find that he’s evidently been resting on Karamatsu’s shoulder, likely for a while given that Karamatsu’s eyes are closed too. It looks dark out, and Ichimatsu’s foggy mind busies itself wondering what time it is.
There’s a soft chuckle beside him, and looking over reveals one of his big brother’s eyes is cracked open now. It’s swiftly followed by the other one, then the sudden absence of a pressure around his shoulder makes him aware that Karamatsu had an arm around him. “Awake, hm?”
“Yeah…” He tries to stretch, stopped short when a jolting pain in his chest reminds him that it’s definitely a bad idea. “Oww. I don’t even remember falling asleep.”
“That’s alright. You started to get a bit drowsy about half an hour after Osomatsu-nii-san gave you your medicine. We saved you a plate from dinner, though, if you want me to go warm it up.”
Ichimatsu blinks. “I slept through dinner?? Shit. How late is it right now?”
His brother shifts a bit more to take out his phone. “Hm… a bit after midnight.”
“Midnight?” Well, fuck. Although he can justify an hour nap or so, he’s just slept like six hours. He missed dinner, he missed going to the bathhouse, he missed maybe a game of cards before bed.
Karamatsu laughs again, his hand tousling Ichimatsu’s hair fondly. “That’s right, my brother. Don’t worry. Osomatsu-nii-san said fatigue is a side effect of your medicine, and your body needs sleep right now, anyway. So, are you hungry? Mommy made soba and yakitori for dinner, but if you’d rather have something else, just say the word. Your wish is my command!”
Honestly… he’s not really that hungry. He knows he should probably eat; his stomach is just trying to tell him not to have anything heavy. Another side effect of the medication, maybe. “Are you… sure? I kind of just feel like plain miso and rice. Other stuff doesn’t sound good.”
“Of course! I’d be delighted to go heat some up. You simply rest and I’ll…” When he goes to stand up, something catches Ichimatsu’s eye, and he grabs his brother’s hand, weakly, with his own injured one. It’s painful, but…
Karamatsu’s eyes focus on his younger brother, brows furrowing. “Ichimatsu? What’s the matter?”
It’s… that cut on Karamatsu’s face. Ichimatsu didn’t notice it before. Now that he’s a bit more alert, it’s practically all he can see. It’s not very big, maybe the length of one of their little fingers, and not deep. It looks like a scrape from falling off one’s bike or something. He thinks maybe it had a bandage on it at one point. The color has faded into something dull; the skin around is still bright pink, though, suggesting that it’s irritated despite not being cut.
His gaze shifts down to find similar wounds on Karamatsu’s hands. On the palms, where he probably got a sort of road rash when he tried to catch himself after Ichimatsu pushed him out of the way.
His own wrist protests with a violent throb as he reaches to let his fingers graze lightly over Karamatsu’s wrist. Image after image of what might have happened to him if Ichimatsu wasn’t fast enough comes unbidden into his head. Karamatsu could be the one with a broken leg or broken ribs, or it could have been worse.
“Y… you’re okay… right?” As soon as those words are out of his mouth, tears start spilling. All at once he’s pulled into a hug, loose fists resting against his back. He can’t stop himself from leaning in, pressing his face against Karamatsu’s shoulder.
He can feel the soft rumble of mirthless laughter his big brother gives. “You’re the one who was hurt, Ichimatsu. I’m only okay because of you. If you hadn’t seen… I wasn’t paying attention…”
The words, “It should have been me”, hang heavily in the air even though Karamatsu doesn’t say them.
He brushes a delicate kiss over the side of his little brother’s forehead. “Heh… you would have been a better big brother than me. You kept us all safe when I failed. You probably saved my life, you know. Thank you.”
Ichimatsu isn’t sure why it’s now that the full weight of everything has hit him. Now, when he’s home and out of danger, when everything is okay. Shouldn’t he have been falling apart when he first woke up in the hospital? It shouldn’t have taken seeing Karamatsu’s small injuries to remind him that they all could have died when he’s the one in a cast.
It’s hard to keep himself together, to keep his breathing normal so he doesn’t completely go to pieces. (Though, if he did, what better place to do so than in his older brother’s arms?) “… You’d do the same for me, right? So it’s only fair.”
“I would,” Karamatsu hums. “Without a second thought. You’re my little brother and I love you very much and if I could save you from being hurt, I would. I’m… sorry I was so careless that I couldn’t do it this time.”
Ichimatsu grunts, slipping his good arm around Karamatsu’s waist in an effort to be closer. “Don’t feel too bad. The next car’ll be yours.”
-
After eating as much as he feels like he can, Ichimatsu allows Karamatsu to help transfer him to the floor. It’s already set up with a spare futon, a blanket, and a pillow, probably because someone guessed that sleeping on the sofa wouldn’t be comfortable.
He’s still in so much pain. The shoulder that was reduced back into place aches like an old war wound, and his chest is sore even when he’s lying still. To say nothing of his wrist and his leg. His whole body feels like one giant bruise, except worse.
Although Karamatsu insists he’d be just fine to stand guard all night, after a few minutes Choromatsu comes in and sends him back to the bedroom. Ichimatsu doesn’t hear too much of the conversation ― mostly whispers that Karamatsu needs to go get some sleep, that Choromatsu is glad to take a turn.
Soon enough, though, Karamatsu relents and comes to tell Ichimatsu goodnight before he leaves the room. Ichimatsu gets one more kiss on the head and a reassuring squeeze to his good hand and exchanges another round of “I love you”s with his brother, then heads into the bedroom.
Choromatsu came prepared, setting his own pillow up on the couch and tossing a blanket at the end just in case he needs it. “So… how are you feeling, Ichimatsu?”
“Mm… like crap, kinda.” He looks over to where his brother is trying to get settled in. “I can’t believe I slept six hours and I’m still tired. What kind of shit did they put me on?”
“Hah… y-yeah, it’s the good stuff, probably. Is it at least helping the pain a little?”
“A little. Like Mom said before we left the hospital, I… guess it’d be more worrying if I wasn’t in pain right now. I did get hit by a car.”
Choromatsu leans forward and places a cautious hand on his little brother’s head. Once that earns him no punishment, he gingerly combs through Ichimatsu’s hair. It certainly feels relaxing. “You sure did. I… I can’t believe you kept both Karamatsu and Totty safe. Adrenaline’s a… a weird thing, huh? I’m glad you’re all okay. Hopefully the pain medicine will work better once you’ve had a few doses.”
“Mh. I hope so.”
“Yeah. For now, just, uh… just try to get some more sleep, okay? Your body needs a lot of rest while you’re healing.”
Yep, that’s what Karamatsu said, too. Two of his brothers saying the same thing can’t be wrong. … Well, they could be, but it would be weird. “I’ll try. Thanks for… being here. I dunno that I’d really want to sleep alone for the whole night. Guess Totty’s rubbing off on me.”
A low chuckle leaves Choromatsu as Ichimatsu closes his eyes. The sound of rustling suggests that his older brother has laid down and pulled a blanket over himself as well.
After a moment of quiet between them, Ichimatsu becomes keenly aware of a sensation that definitely isn’t going to allow him to sleep. “Uuuugh. Shit.”
“Huh?” Choromatsu is sitting up in an instant, ready to practically spring out of his skin. “What’s wrong, Ichimatsu?”
“― My leg itches.”
“O-oh. So… scratch it??”
He throws his head back in frustration. “No, the one with the Goddamn cast on it.”
“Ohhh. Okay, uh, well…” Choromatsu gets up and rummages through one of the drawers for a few seconds.
After that, a pencil is pressed into Ichimatsu’s good hand with a smile. “Here, try this. Stick the eraser end down in the little space between your leg and the cast, then keep moving it. If the itch is high enough up, it should help.”
Ichimatsu raises an eyebrow at the advice. Well. What’s he got to lose, after all? He spends a moment trying to get the itch scratched after slipping the pencil down, and finally he sighs in relief. “Fuck, that’s a lot better. How’d you know that was gonna work?”
Choromatsu grins self-consciously, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Ah, well… remember when I broke my arm? When I went for my checkup, I had this itch inside the cast that was driving me nuts. So the nurse showed me this trick. It doesn’t always work, but…”
“Huh… well… thanks.” After everything, he’s just really tired and ready to sleep now. He would cross his fingers that nothing else disturbs him if he felt like moving at all.
“Heh, no problem. All good now?”
“I think so.” When he sees his brother straighten up to head back to the couch, his brain evidently thinks it’s good to say something. “H… hey. Choromatsu?”
Choromatsu looks back down, concern etched on his features. “Ah, yeah? What’s up?”
His heart is hammering so fast it feels like it’s trying to break more of his ribs. He doesn’t really want to embarrass himself. It’s just… he feels… “Can you… can you… stay for a minute? Down here?”
“Oh… yeah, sure. I can’t stay too long… I-I can’t sleep next to you. I might accidentally hurt you.” Even so, he lowers himself back down, sitting cross-legged and reaching to stroke Ichimatsu’s hair.
He nods. That’s part of the problem. Even though he normally wouldn’t have much complaint about being left to his own devices… he’s used to sleeping next to his brothers. Right on the end beside Karamatsu. When he’s not feeling well, being absent from them is apparently not doing him any favors. “I know. It’s just…”
His eyes drift closed once more. It must be the medicine making him feel out of it and way too honest. “… I think I’m gonna get lonely sleeping like this.”
“O-oh… gosh.” He can practically hear the frown in Choromatsu’s voice. The other man’s hand combs through his hair, a rhythmic and repetitive motion that makes him sleepy again. “I can probably… sleep like this, propped up against the couch. Is that okay?”
“Mmmh… I don’t want you to have to do that… you’ll make your back sore.”
He chuckles. “Ah, I-I think I can handle it. Even if that’s true, it’d be worth it to me so you don’t have to feel lonely. It’s the least I can do for my little brother.”
“I can’t stop you,” Ichimatsu mumbles. Sleep is scrabbling its tiny, strong fingers at him, trying to pull him down. It’s getting hard to resist. “If you want…”
“Yeah… yeah, I wanna do this for you.” Choromatsu leans down to press a small kiss to the top of Ichimatsu’s head. “Hey. Love you, Ichimacchan. Try to get some rest, okay?”
He doesn’t have to tell Ichimatsu twice. Within a minute of Choromatsu’s urging, he’s fallen back into a peaceful darkness.
-
When Ichimatsu wakes up the next morning, Choromatsu’s presence has been replaced by Jyushimatsu’s.
As much as he loves his immediate older brother, he doesn’t have any complaints. He and Jyushimatsu are very close, and his younger brother being here is pretty soothing to wake up to.
He’s uncharacteristically quiet, though that’s not to say he isn’t his usual energetic self. He appears to be flipping through baseball cards, maybe organizing them in his little album, humming to himself. There’s also one hand free to play with Ichimatsu’s hair, which he supposes is why he still feels relaxed.
“Hey, Jyushi.” His body reminds him why stretching is a bad idea right now, so he settles for arching his back a little in an effort to make something pop. Everything is sore. Even that little bit of movement hurts his ribs enough that he has trouble catching his breath for a minute. “Fuck… morning.”
“Oh! Yeah, it is morning!” Jyushimatsu is chipper as always, though when he leans in for a hug, he’s surprisingly gentle. “How’d you sleep, Ichimatsu-nii-san?”
“Okay, I guess. I still hurt a bunch.”
“Yeahhhh, you were crying in your sleep! But it’s okay! Because guess what? Jyushi is here!” He grins, nuzzling his cheek against Ichimatsu’s. It’s a bit weird, but par for the course as far as Jyushimatsu is concerned. Besides, the hug is nice after the fear of being lonely last night. “Did you have nightmares, huh?”
Now that he mentions it… yep. Ichimatsu’s dreams, or what he remembers of them, were filled with horrible things. The memory of being hit by the car, or the images of either Karamatsu or Totty being hit because he wasn’t fast enough.
He recalls one piece of a dream which involved looking into his own chest and seeing the end of a fractured rib shatter his glass heart.
A shudder runs through his body, prompting Jyushimatsu to tighten his grip just slightly. “Oh, you’re cold! It’s past breakfast, ‘cause you slept for a really long time, but I’ll go get you some tea!! Sound good?”
Given that his appetite hasn’t come back from war, that sounds better than anything else. Though he did manage to choke down that rice and miso last night, he’s not sure if he wants to eat even anything bland. “Yeah, sounds good. Put just a little bit of agave syrup in it for me?”
“Yeah! Anything for Ichimatsu-nii-san! Be right back, okay?”
With Jyushimatsu, ‘be right back’ is typically how it goes. He’s only gone for a few minutes, or at least it only seems like a few minutes.
Regardless, Ichimatsu has a cup of tea in his hand relatively quickly. Almost as if his brother predicted that it would be difficult to hold something very hot with only one hand, the tea is warm, not boiling hot.
It’s easier to balance it with one hand, plus this means it’s pretty much the perfect temperature to drink. As he starts to sip it, he feels Jyushimatsu’s hand, covered entirely by his sleeve, rubbing affectionately between his shoulder blades. “It’s good, huh?”
He swallows and gives the other a nod. “Yeah, pretty good. Thanks.” Thankfully, it should wake him up, too. He’s still feeling kind of groggy.
“Good!! Osomatsu-nii-san said he’s gonna give you your medicine in a minute, since I told him you were up and hurting.” Jyushimatsu shoves his binder of cards away, shifting up to sit on the sofa. “Do you want me to move you up here after you’re done drinking?”
“Probably, yeah. You got anything you wanna do today?” Another sip, and he sighs in relief feeling the warmth flow through him. Damn.He can’t believe he could take something as simple as a cup of tea in the morning for granted. “I can’t really help with baseball practice… but we could watch TV together or something.”
“Sure! We can watch whatever you want!” After only a few seconds, Jyushimatsu wiggles himself back down and leans against his big brother’s shoulder. “Hey, Ichimatsu-nii-san… I’m really glad you’re okay. Even though you’re hurt and everything, you’re home with us instead of… being not home with us!”
The least he can do is let his head rest gently against Jyushimatsu’s. “Yeah… I’m glad I’m home, too. Don’t think I’d rather be anywhere else.”
Jyushimatsu nods eagerly, making a brief, dull wave of pain wash through Ichimatsu. However, he’d rather have that pain than not have his little brother close. “We’ll take really good care of you! Just say if you need anything, okay? I’m really strong and I can get anything! … And if I can’t, Osomatsu-nii-san probably can!”
“Heh.” Ichimatsu takes another gulp of his tea. “You guys are the best.”
-
True to Jyushimatsu’s word, Osomatsu is in pretty soon to give Ichimatsu the painkillers. For whatever reason, even when he can’t be trusted with literally anything else, the eldest is pretty good at monitoring medicine when one of the others needs it.
All things being equal, Ichimatsu has a lot of faith in taking medicine when Osomatsu keeps track of it. He knows how much was dispensed, how many Ichimatsu is supposed to take and how often, how many are left, and all the related things. He’s like some kind of idiot savant who was put on Earth to be a pill counter.
After he takes it, he expects to start getting tired again, so he silently begs Osomatsu to stay on the couch with him. They’re all supposed to be hanging out anyway, based on what Jyushimatsu said, so right now he decides he wants to be close to his oldest brother for a little bit.
Osomatsu seems all too happy to oblige, snuggling Ichimatsu as close as he dares to. It’s probably not a good idea to use normal force, so the touches are… lighter than usual. It’s not so bad.
He settles in on Osomatsu’s shoulder, trying to get his eyes to focus on the show Jyushimatsu turned it to for him. It’s kind of unfortunate that he’s almost certainly going to fall asleep on it. “You guys are taking really good care of me,” he sighs, letting his eyes slip closed. “You want my allowance? Or, like… a bag of sardines?”
Osomatsu snorts. “What? You’re nuts, man. We’re taking care of you because we want to and because you need it. I mean, if I was sitting here with a broken leg, a broken wrist, broken ribs, and had to have my shoulder cherry popped back into place, wouldn’t you all be like, ‘Wow, maybe we should give the poor bastard a hand’? We’re just doing the same thing for you that we’d do for any one of us.”
Ichimatsu huffs. “Yeah, well… you’re all doing a lot. Karamatsu went in the kitchen past midnight to make me miso and rice, Choromatsu probably fucked up his back sleeping against the couch so I wouldn’t be lonely, Jyushi’s waiting on me, and you’ve got my medicine on a damn schedule or something.”
“Yeah, well,” Osomatsu grins, “I can’t leave it up to you, crackhead.”
He can’t help but chuckle at that. Even so, it’s not going to make him totally drop this. “I’m serious. You guys are…”
Osomatsu nudges him carefully. “We’re being brothers, you boner. I know we suck at showing it sometimes, but… you know we all love each other, right? I guess it’s easier to show it when one of us is sick or hurt. Just so happens you’re the hurt one right now. And also your ass is on painkillers, so everything seems weird to you.”
… Okay, so maybe he can’t fault that logic. Still, though.
They’re both quiet for a long moment while they watch the screen, then Osomatsu lets out a soft hum. “You did good, you know. I don’t like that you tried to get yourself killed, but you did good.”
“I wasn’t trying to get myself killed,” Ichimatsu retorts with the nastiest facial expression he can muster right now. “I didn’t wanna get hit, either. But Karamatsu and Totty weren’t paying attention… I didn’t want them to get hit. I was trying to get us all out of that way… I just wasn’t fast enough.”
Osomatsu scoffs before reaching his hand up to ruffle Ichimatsu’s hair. He appears to be getting a lot of pets like that lately, not that he’s complaining. It feels really good and is one of the biggest comforts he has right now. “You protected them, anyway. I can’t say too much, because you didn’t do anything I wouldn’t have done if it were me.”
Ichimatsu offers a low, mocking wail. “Oh, shit. I’m turning into you. I think I’d rather be a cat. If I were a really bratty cat, you’d still be nice enough to feed me sardines and scratch behind my ears, right?”
“Uhhhh, I guess. You’re changing the subject, you dick.” A small puff of laughter makes his bangs move. “I just… wanna say I really respect you, man. Sometimes I remember the days when you would kick Karamatsu in the leg just for breathing the wrong way. And when you used to blow Totty off to hang with your friends in high school.”
He gets a shrug in response. “People change. We’ve all changed a lot.”
“Yeah, sure. I know.” His arm shifts down and he squeezes Ichimatsu’s good hand in that reassuring, proud way only an older sibling can. “They haven’t all been good changes. But seeing you trying to keep the others safe… that’s a a good change. Just gotta give you your props, Ichimacchan.”
He’s too tired to really argue with Osomatsu. Despite the fact that he knows he’s the shittiest of them all, he has to at least silently acknowledge that what he did prevented one of his older brothers and his baby brother from being in the same pain he’s in right now.
Instead of saying anything meaningful, he just presses himself in more against Osomatsu and mutters, “That’s nice. I’m tired.”
Osomatsu snorts and Ichimatsu feels a light kiss on top of his head. “Alright, dumbass, get some sleep. The pills are probably kicking in. Let me know if you need anything.”
Ichimatsu thinks that, right now, all he needs is his big brother to be the perfect pillow, and he’s doing a pretty good job of that.
-
Although it’s not dark at all the next time Ichimatsu wakes up, it’s significantly later than he meant to sleep. 3 P.M., meaning that once again he’s slept through a meal ― lunch, this time.
Just like last night, he finds that he’s not really all that hungry. Even so, it might be a good idea to eat, so probably he ask Osomatsu to get him something small.
When he shifts and looks over, though, Osomatsu isn’t there anymore. Instead, there’s Totty…
… Oh.
He’s holding onto Ichimatsu pretty tight. Ichimatsu isn’t sure he can move too much with the way Totty is holding him.
“Hey,” he says softly. “Totty? Everything okay?”
His little brother stiffens, wide eyes suddenly turning up to look at him. Unlike what he noticed about Karamatsu, Totty doesn’t have any physical injuries, but… the skin around his eyes is red and puffy. “Y… yeah, it’s all good. Sorry, am I hurting you?”
“No… not really hurting.” He doesn’t remember having seen Totty too much after everything happened. He visited Ichimatsu in the hospital, all teary-eyed and not talking, before they were all allowed to take him home. Once he got home, though, he can’t recall Totty being around a lot even though everyone else was.
He assumed Totty was freaked out after everything and avoiding him just because he’s emotional right now. Seems Ichimatsu was right about that.
He maneuvers his good arm to put it around Totty’s shoulders, pulling him in closer. “Have you been crying? You sure you’re okay?”
Totty sniffles and dips his head down. “Yeah, sorry… I just…”
“Don’t be sorry, dumbass.” Even though it hurts a little to move so much, Ichimatsu cuddles his brother in against him. “It’s fine, you big crybaby. I just wanna make sure you’re okay.”
“I should be the one making sure you’re okay.” Regardless, Totty nestles in, tucking his head under Ichimatsu’s chin. It’s a bit of a weight on his hurt ribs, but it’s not that bad. “… H-hey. I, um. You know. I… I love you.”
Huh. It’s been a while since Totty has said that point-blank to any of his brothers, Ichimatsu thinks. It’s kind of nice to hear. He closes his eyes and offers an appreciative hum. “I love you, too. That it?”
Totty lets out a frustrated sigh, and Ichimatsu can just imagine the pout he has on his face. Kinda cute. He can’t really help himself; the youngest is always gonna be the baby, always gonna be adorable, even when he’s acting like a little bitch or if he wants to deny it. “I wanted to… say I’m sorry.”
“For…?”
“For�� everything! Y-you know, for almost getting hit and… I mean, you got hurt trying to protect me and Karamatsu! If I hadn’t tried to follow him without even looking… you wouldn’t have had to worry about me. And… and I haven’t been with you too much since you got home…”
He nuzzles his head against Ichimatsu’s collarbone, kneading his hand against the top of his brother’s good leg. “I’m sorry about that. It’s just… I’ve been… really upset. It was scary, seeing the car hit you…”
The hum Ichimatsu gives this time is lower, pensive and understanding. “Yeah. Mom said you were crying a lot when she got to the hospital. ‘S okay to be kinda freaked out, you know.”
“Yeah, I know… and I was… am.I was scared the whole time… Karamatsu tried to wake you up, but you were just lying there and you wouldn’t…” Totty sniffles and his hand curls into a weak fist against Ichimatsu’s knee. “I didn’t wanna lose you, Ichimatsu-nii-san, and I was really afraid you were gone. I’m happy you’re okay… I just… I-I was pretty sure I was gonna cry the first time I tried to take care of you, so I… wanted to be alone with you. Crying in front of all you guys is…”
Ichimatsu nods to quiet his brother, ghosting a kiss over the top of Totty’s head. “I get it. It’s okay, Totty. C’mere, okay… you don’t have to be sorry for being freaked out and not wanting to cry and all that shit. I’m sure Karamatsu’s freaked out, too. And everyone else. Don’t apologize for your feelings, stupid.”
An indignant huff is the response he gets, before Totty presses in against Ichimatsu’s uninjured shoulder. “It just makes me think a lot,” he finally confesses.
Ichimatsu smirks. “Right. And you’re so out of practice with thinking, it’s hard. I know.”
“Th-that’s not it, you jerk!” Totty whines and brings his arms in, curled against his chest. His knees come up onto the couch, folded under him, as he tries to get comfortable. “It makes me think… anything could happen, at any moment, and that… might be it.And I know we’re all shitty to each other a lot of the time, but… but I love all of you.”
He sniffles, snuggling against Ichimatsu when his big brother pulls him even closer. “The thought that one of us might… die… I-I didn’t… I didn’t know how afraid I was of that… till I thought it happened. If one of us wasn’t here… it… it wouldn’t be the same anymore.”
“… Yeah.” Ichimatsu gives Totty a squeeze that’s maybe a little tighter than necessary. It’s not like he can pretend that Totty is wrong. He’s right. Even though they’re all assholes and treat each other like crap sometimes, the last thing any of them want is for their family to be… incomplete.
They sit quietly for what feels like a long time, holding each other. Breathing. Just existing in sync, in perfect understanding for a while.
Sometimes, it’s true, Ichimatsu is kind of a death seeker. Sometimes he really does want to die. Sometimes he doesn’t care about anything, and just wants it all to end so he doesn’t have to deal with the weight of life anymore.
Sometimes, though… sometimes he fights death with all he has. He thinks maybe that’s what happened after he got hit by the car.
It would have been easy to die then. To just let his injuries swallow him up and put out his life like blowing out a candle.
He’s in a lot of pain right now, but he’s not dead. There must be a reason, right?
He thinks this is the reason.
Holding his youngest brother and realizing how broken his absence would leave his family, thinking about how broken it would be if anyof them were gone, how much they love each other…
… For once, he’s happy to be alive.
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fandomscombine · 4 years ago
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Love and Sacrifice
A Fred Weasley x Reader and Adrian Pucey x Reader
BG: Fred didn’t know what went wrong. One moment you were happy together the next you reappear after months of silence only to came back engaged to Adrian Pucey. But what he doesn’t know is that you made the ultimate sacrifice for him.
Contains: Forbidden love. Arranged marriage. Angst alert! Get ready to feel the pain.
A/N: Was supposed to be just an outline, but kinda became a straight up full fic.
WC:1662
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Weeks leading up to the day that Fred and George were to leave Hogwarts to start Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Fred had noticed you becoming distant. Though he didn’t put much though into that as to NEWTS coming up and you had been staying up most nights helping them sort out the joke shop’s paperwork instead of revising. He knew that this situation would be temporary and once you graduated, you would be moving out of your strict parent’s house to live in with him- as you both had planned.
However, after graduation, you were still giving him the cold shoulder and not replying to his letters. Even his siblings had noticed that after they left, you were acting weird-not talking much, low energy and generally not feeling like yourself. ��Although you had sat with the remaining Weasleys on the Hogwarts Express, you were unusually quiet, a shell of your past self. Similar to Fred, his younger sibling attributed this behaviour to being anxious in knowing the results of your NEWTS, which were set to arrive mid-July.
Fast-forward to a few weeks after graduation, you are now engaged to Adrian Pucey. You both were walking around Diagon Alley, doing some wedding shopping when a certain shop comes into view. Of course, you had only seen the concept art and blueprints, so you had an idea what it would look like, but it was even more magical seeing it in person.
Adrian catches a sight of your face and understands, understand that these past few weeks with him had been a whirlwind and acknowledges that you and Fred would need closure for both for you to move on.  Adrian gave your hand a squeeze, ‘Go on y/n, I know you want to.’ Beckoning towards the shop. ‘We should at least give him the decency to tell him in person rather than him finding it out in the daily prophet that you are soon to be married.  We are gonna have “The wedding of the year” as they call it.’
The whole time you were reluctant to approach him. Unable to predict how he would react to you popping up out of the blue.
With hands in your pocket, hiding your ring. You call out to him after 3 long months.
‘y/n?’ Fred did double take, almost not believing that you were real, the actual y/n that he loved, that disappeared is now within reach.
Emotions came rushing back. How foolish did you think that months apart, forcing him out of your mind would diminish everything you felt. Panicking, you dashed to the door.
Nevertheless, his long legs had quickly caught up to you. He tries to stop you from leaving him again, holding your arm back, you resisted yanking away his grasp.
His hand slides past yours, accidentally pulling off you ring too.
It falls to the ground.
Fred kneels down, getting to it first.
It’s even funny really, you though that he would be at that position before. Of course, under different circumstances.
He stares at the ring.
Right then Adrian reaches your side. “What are you doing with my fiancée’s ring?”
“Fiancée?”
‘Yeah my fiancée’ Adrian interlocks your hands. ‘The soon to be Mrs. y/n Pucey’
Fred chokes on air, turning redder than you’ve ever seen, you can see the veins in his arms contract.
The only time you saw him like this was when Malfoy insulted his family back in Year 5 quidditch match.
You turn to Adrian, with soft eyes.
He nods, understanding what you were asking. ‘I’ll be right outside, okay?’
‘Thank you.’
However, when you turned back, Fred was already walking away.
‘Fred! Wait!’ you finally caught up to him ‘Can we talk? Please.’
He stops, nodding though not bothering to face you. ‘In here.’ Leading you to his office.
Crossing his arms, he mocked. ‘So this is why you weren’t returning my messages.’
‘Fred….’
‘Cause you were with him all this time.’
‘NO!!! No… I wasn’t believe me.’
‘Then why?’ Fred was emotionally exhausted. ‘I just had the love of his life reappear after months of silence, only to find out that she’s engaged to someone else, someone I know she practically strangers with!’ Fred runs his hand through his hair, leaning defeated against the table. ‘Why did you leave me? You just disappear, like we didn’t have history. y/n. NO note. NO explanation. Just silence.’
‘Remember when you and George were trying to get this place up and running?’
‘Yea but what’s it got to do with all this?’
You raised a hand to stop him.
‘Do you recall that all your efforts were being blocked? The lease, the permits…..’ you exhaled. ‘Apparently that was my father’s doing.’
‘Your father??’
You nodded.
‘News got to him that we were dating- and no I don’t know how, but it did.’ You added, knowing what’s on his mind. ‘You know how my father is... with his traditional ways. He couldn’t believe that his only daughter was seeing a blood traitor. There was no way he would allow it.’ You shook your head.  ‘So he used his influence in the ministry, pulled some strings in order to do whatever he could to stop you from building the joke shop.’
‘You and George were being held back with one thing to another, it’s unheard of to have a business struggle so much just to get the right paperwork. So I did some digging, I had my suspicions then, I knew it had someone powerful but what was curious was that you were faced with all these constant barriers that couldn’t possibly be an authority being throughout with the paperwork. No, it was more inclined to someone with a personal grudged.’ You explained.
‘So, I took a chance and confronted my father.’ Continuing on, you sneered. ‘It was funny cause he didn’t even bother to deny my allegations, said he was doing the right thing.’ You air quoted.  ‘And that if I wanted it to stop. He would do so immediately, under the condition that I break up with you and agree to have an arranged marriage.’
‘What?’ Fred shocked by your confession. ‘y/n. Why did you agree? ’
‘It was the hardest thing I had to do, but I knew that it was for the best.’ You looked at him with melancholy. ‘It would be the best for you.’
 ‘You thought it would be the best for me, did you honestly thought that I would agree to this huh y/n?’ Fred challenged.
 ‘I did it so that you would have a bright and happy future, even if it meant that I won’t be in the picture.’
He scoffs.
‘Freddie..’ When he wouldn’t look at you, you tried again. ‘love…’
He winces at the nickname.
‘You have been wanting to turn this dream of having your own joke shop into a reality for the longest time. I know that burning unstoppable passion you have in bringing joy into the world ever since I’ve known you.’ Moving closer, you cupped his cheek. ‘Time and time again, you had overcome people’s discouragement on your passion, and you came up on top.’
‘So who am I to stop you from fulfilling your dreams? I can’t do that to you Freddie. I won’t be always to bear with the knowledge of holding you back. I can’t. I couldn’t Not to you. ’
‘So you sacrifice your own happiness for me to have mine?’
You shrugged.
‘Do you love him?’ Fred’s voice was strained.
You were caught off guard by his question. ‘Adrian?’
‘Yea.’
Gathering your thoughts together, you reasoned ‘I…..I…It’s only been a few week since we got engaged-‘
‘Do. You. Love. Him?’ Fred could feel his heart contracting. But he needed to know where he stood emotionally to you.
‘I like him.’ Blinking, you thought about your past couple of weeks with Adrian. ‘He’s sweet and nice. A really caring gentleman.’ You admitted. ‘Not exactly the typical evil Slytherin archetype either. So there’s that.’
‘That’s not exactly a high bar.’ Fred taunted causing you to chuckle.
‘But in time…given time. I don’t see why I won’t potentially fall for him.’ You replied truthfully.
You both just sat there, shoulder to shoulder on his office table. Hints laughter could be heard through the door. In contrast to this small room full of eery silence and tense with the gloom of a last goodbye.
‘Well..’ You stand, brushing your dress straight. ‘I guess that is all there is to say.’ You sent him a reassuring smile, eager to maintain this light ambiance between you. ‘I just dropped by for a quick visit you and to inform you of the upcoming wedding of the year. Thought that it be best to clear the air and be polite and give you a heads up personally rather than finding out about it in the daily prophet tomorrow.’
You wrap him into a hug, knowing that this would be the last time. ‘I’ll miss you.’
Fred held onto to you tighter, inhaling your scent. ‘I’ll miss you too.’ Compelling his brain to remember what you feel like, what you smell like. His The One That Got Away. Burying his face into your neck, he pleads. ‘Do this one thing for me please…. To make things easier.’
‘Anything’ you replied.
‘Tell me you don’t love me.’
You stiffen in his arms, pulling back a bit to see his face. ‘I can’t.’
You were about to walk away when once again he stops you.
The next thing you know, you were spun back into his arms, kissing with intense passion, pouring your hearts out, knowing that this is it. The final kiss. The final moment. This is where your stories diverge.
You broke apart, cherishing his face this close one last time.
‘Goodbye, Fred Weasley.’
With that you exit his office, leaving behind a perfectly happy life of what ifs and a heartbroken man surrounded by reminders of his achievements and happiness.
  Taglist [All/General]: @gruffle1​
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ofhouseadama · 3 years ago
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could I dm you this? yes. but also asks are fun even though this question is mean so. how do Ed and Lorraine react to the Vietnam war?
Okay so my Ed and Lorraine are absolutely Kennedy Democrats, are both very excited and enthusiastic about the first Catholic president, but both are against the Vietnam War and US military intervention from the start. Ed's already fought in one imperialist proxy war, he's got the PTSD to prove it, and Lorraine just is truly repulsed by violence of any kind.
And also like, to go completely left field for a minute -- I've been thinking a lot about how teenage Lored were effectively trapped at 17-19 years old. Mostly financially, and in different ways. in 1951, Lorraine wouldn't have been able to have her own bank account. Women wouldn't have the right to open their own bank account until the 60s or have a credit card until the 70s -- her money would have been her father's, effectively. and while probably not maliciously, since she was a young woman she likely wouldn't have had much access to her pay checks unless she was cashing them directly. Ed, meanwhile, while trying to survive a negligent/abusive household, absolutely would have been spending money on things most teens wouldn't have to in order to survive... and that's before getting the draft notice from the Selective Service, which took away even more control of his own life.
So I see Ed and Lorraine getting married young (even for the 50s, they're a few years younger than the median, though the war was actively driving that age down) mostly out of making the most out of what they could together. Ed putting Lorraine on his bank accounts and asking her actively to manage them while he's away, and her depositing her paychecks into his account would give her more financial control in her life than most women of the era. Lorraine's engagement ring (the size of that goddamn rock) is even an insurance policy most women her age and demographic didn't have -- often when women fled marriages, it was only with their jewelry to sell. It's half about Ed's possessive streak, half him showing he's not afraid to give her the money to run, if she needed to.
Anyway -- the trauma of their late teens and early twenties is entirely rooted in the rising Cold War anxieties and the locus of harm done to women in the 50s and I fully see their pursuit of demonology and the supernatural as something Lorraine initially started while working as a secretary for the Diocese, something she did to stay late at work and help people she could physically reach while Ed was away at war. She initially started staying late on the days she knew Father Gordon would be bringing in a scared family or terrified couple or frightened soul in through the back door hours after everyone had left, staying to pray and keep herself nearby, to be an observer to a fight she could be party to. Father Gordon figures her out quickly, of course, asking what interest she has in demons and exorcisms, and figures out she's clever with records and archives, almost to an uncanny degree.
And then figures out to exactly what uncanny degree.
After Ed came home and became the husband instead of the boyfriend, it turned into something Ed could throw all his metaphorical demons onto and a healthy way to exercise his control issues and fear and anxiety that doesn't (generally) affect Lorraine because she's fighting with him side by side in this, when before they were separated by thousands of miles -- the beginning everyone's favorite Catholic battle couple very much rooted in Ed and Lorraine parsing out who brought home metaphorical demons from the war, and who brought home literal ones, and bringing them to Father Gordon when necessary. Rooted in Ed needing to be useful, to dusting off his Catholic school Latin and reading everything he could get his hands on so that he could continue to help, continue to fight.
Lorraine would have been pregnant with Judy during the heightening tensions with Cuba and as Kennedy is sending more and more military "advisors" to Vietnam and Cold War tensions flared the hottest they'd get in the 1960s and I can just see both of their control issues revving up, especially with a few-months-old baby in the mix. Just the two of them laying bed, looking down at their three month old baby girl, wondering if they'd all get nuked tomorrow. If war would be declared tomorrow. If they'd all be dead, if they brought her into the world just to die violently. It's like taking guns off the street. They can't control the White House, or the Soviets, or Cuba or China or or or -- but they know about demons, they know about spirits, they know about taking these bombs off the battlefield, in the war of good against evil, and this is a war they can be foot soldiers in together.
Lorraine would get a bit of relief in the March of '63 when Kennedy dropped married men with children to the bottom of the draft pool, and then dropped the age of the draft pool to 26, aging Ed out of the Selective Service entirely. And then in November, JFK would be assassinated, and the photo of Jackie Kennedy covered in blood, leaving the hospital hand-in-hand with RFK, would be on the front page of every newspaper in the country. It would be a jolt for both of them -- but it wouldn't fully hit Lorraine until seven years later, when she'd have her first vision of Ed's death and fully understand Jackie Kennedy's weary, "I want them to see what they have done to Jack."
After the Gulf of Tonkin Resolution in August of 1964, they fully throw themselves into taking cases almost full time. As the war heats up, Ed pulls back from teaching art classes at the VA. If he spends too much time there, he has to face how pointless the violence has been. If he spends too much time there, now, he has to face that he still doesn't know why he survived. Why he lived, and everyone else on board the ship with him died. Because he still doesn't know, he still is fighting to make his life matter in a way that makes sense to him. All he has is his sense of duty, a couple of college credits, and his hands. On good days, he knows that he's loved -- that Lorraine loves him so much it makes it hurt to breathe, that he's a good father to his daughter, who will never be afraid of him.
Ed has a complete PTSD relapse in 1966, with the beginning of the ground war and the full-throated resurgence of the American propaganda machine and military recruitment. He's back in the guilt spiral, the "I never had it that bad, I was only in the Navy for two years, I never had it that bad," just feeding into "why did I live when everyone else I fought with died," back and forth until he can't sleep, can only sleep when Judy sleeps, accidentally ends up adapting himself to her nap schedule and has to sleep with his hand on her chest, feeling her breathe.
Lorraine calls in Chief, after Ed can't get out of bed for 72 hours and misses mass for the first time in his life. Chief, who comes up from Brooklyn to remind Ed of the time their entire ship exploded and Ed treaded water for eight hours and everyone else died. How they spent the next six months getting drunk whenever they weren't on duty and picking fights they couldn't get out of, and that one time they got thrown in the brig because Chief struck a superior asshole and Ed just followed him into the fight. (No, Lorraine does not know about that time Ed and Chief ended up in the brig. She will never know about that time. Judy will at some point in her early 20s learn about that time, when she needs to learn about how her parents are people, who have absolutely made mistakes in their lives.) "You and I spent six months drunk," Chief says, bouncing Judy on his knee in the kitchen over a cup of coffee, Ed refusing to look at him as he deep cleans the stove. "And then your dad died, and your sainted wife handled everything for you, and we realized we couldn't send you home to her like that."
"I still don't know why I lived."
Chief shrugs. "It doesn't matter why, son. The same reason any of us live, and any of us die. It doesn't matter. You have a little girl now who depends on you. She matters more than any goddamn reason -- you live for her, and your saint of a wife, and for all the people that you help. So that you can look them in the face, say you've been down in the hole that they're in now, and you know the way out."
Lorraine calls in Chief, because she absolutely picked a fight after mass that day without Ed, with Judy on her hip. Overheard Dorothy O'Malley running her mouth in the pew in front of her sounding like a national security ghoul and didn't even think before she opened her mouth and unloading the full force of her anxiety and anger on her. Only stops because she feels a gentle hand on her shoulder and Father Gordon murmuring in her ear, "Okay Mrs. Warren, you've made your point," while leading her away. It's the "Mrs. Warren" instead of the familiar "Lorraine" that jolts her back to herself, kissing Judy's head as she tries to shake herself out of it.
"Thank you," she tells Father Gordon, defeated.
He shrugs. "You don't come to confession until before Friday night prayer service. I didn't want you stewing on this all week." Pausing, he takes a moment to fondly tug on one of Judy's pig tails, making her laugh. "If Ed's not... feeling well, I know about that."
Lorraine bites her lip, knowing full and well that Father Gordon served as a chaplain in World War II. That seeing the violence of the Nazis firsthand is what convinced him that the Devil was more than a metaphor, that evil truly walked the Earth. Sent him on his own path, chasing darkness.
Lorraine nods.
"I could talk to him," Father Gordon says. "But it would likely come better from someone he served with."
When she gets home, she finds Chief's number in their phone book, and calls Brooklyn for the first and last time. He comes up the next day, and shoos her out of the house to do something for herself for the first time in months, telling her that he's more than equipped to look after a single three year old.
Ed goes back to teaching at the VA a few months after that, teaching art to the new round of mentally scarred children returning from war. He concedes to group therapy, and a few sessions with the VA psychiatrist to get something to take the edge off. He teaches at the VA until the troop withdrawals in 1970, reducing his class load as he and Lorraine take on more and more cases -- verging towards a hundred a year -- for the Catholic Church, and the media attention that comes along with that, the publicity engagements that help keep their bills paid, the articles and academic talks.
Even still, Ed occasionally brings home someone for dinner, just to make sure that they've only brought metaphorical demons home from war with them, not literal ones.
Sometimes it's literal ones.
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multifandomrandomgirl · 4 years ago
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Remus Lupin!parent x reader!daughter fic
Y/N Cohen had always wondered why she had her mother's maiden surname as opposed to her father's, but her mum refused to tell her. She also refused to tell Y/N the whereabouts of her absent father either for that matter.
All she knew was that her father had disappeared before she had even been born, a "one-night stand", as her mother had put it one night when Y/N had asked just before her tenth birthday. Y/N had since dropped the subject and gave up asking questions about her father.
According to her mother, Y/N had the same green eyes and light brown hair that her father has. The attributes that she got from her mum included her nose and her horrible eyesight.
On her eleventh birthday, Y/N received a letter from Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, it informed her that she was a witch and that she had a place at the school for the coming September. Her mother was more than happy to let her go to the school ("I don't have to wake up early to take you to school, it'll be great.").
Her first two years were interesting, to say the least, she'd been sorted into Gryffindor in her first year and made a plethora of friends including Harry Potter, Dean Thomas, Seamus Finnigan and Ernie Macmillian.
In the first year, her Defence Against The Dark Arts teacher turned out to be some creepy pyscho with He-who-must-not-be-named's face on the back of his head, covered in a purple turban. In the second year, Harry came face-to-face with a basilisk after Ron Weasley's younger sister, Ginny got possessed by some guy's soul, Tom Riddle, weird name right?
Oh, and the DADA teacher had accidentally obliviated himself, what a tosser eh?
Y/N was currently sat in a compartment on the Hogwarts Express, she had situated herself next to Neville and Seamus, across from Ginny and Dean.
"Who do you think we'll have for Defence this year?" Neville asked as he watched out the window as the train rolled out of Kings Cross. "Dunno, better help us defend ourselves if that raging lunatic, Black, comes anywhere near us." Seamus laughed. "Not a laughing matter Finnigan." Ginny rolled her eyes at the boy.
A few hours along the journey to the school, the train halted and bumped. It suddenly went all cold and dark, depressing almost.
"Anyone want to come and investigate with me?" Y/N stood up, pocketing her wand just in case. "I'll come with." Both Neville and Ginny stood up and followed Y/N down the corridor. They end up in Harry's compartment. Tripping over a few feet, Y/N made her way into the compartment. Harry, Ron, Hermione and a middle-aged man who was asleep were all in there. Y/N sat down next to Harry.
"Any clue as to what is happening?" She whispered, trying not to wake the sleeping man up. "No clue." Hermione mumbled.
A large floating binbag-like creature came into the compartment, it suddenly felt colder, Harry collapsed and Y/N grabbed him before he could hit the floor, she leant him across the seats that the pair had previously occupied.
The sleeping man arose, a ball of fire in his hand, he used wandless magic to ward off the floating binbag.
They all stood in silence as Harry began to wake up. "What were those things?" He asked, looking at the middle-aged man.
"Dementors" Now the lights had flickered back on,  Y/N could see the mans' appearance, green eyes, brown hair. "No." She thought. "Is he my? Nah, don't be daft."
"Y/N, Y/N. What's up?" Ron poked Y/N in the shoulder after the man leaves the compartment.
"Is it me or does he look like me?" She whispered, glancing at her friends.
"Do you think he may be your-?" Hermione cut herself short uncertain as to whether or not she should continue her sentence.
"Maybe. I mean, mum did say I looked exactly like him, except for the nose." Y/N stared at the floor, nervously. "Maybe you should ask him?"
"What am I supposed to say? Hi Professor, I think you might be my dad?" Y/N groaned, looking at Neville. "I mean, maybe more subtlety than that." Hermione sighed. "Yeah, good idea."
-----------------------------
"Today, we will be looking at boggarts." Professor Lupin said. Y/N gulped nervously and fiddled with her red tie.
"Miss Cohen, would you be so kind as to go first?" The brown-haired professor asked her after teaching them the spell needed to protect them. "Uh, sure." Y/N stepped forward, the Professor unleashes the creature from the cupboard.
The boggart turned into a merperson, it wriggled its way towards her, reaching out for her arm. Y/N cowered back slightly, the class minus her friends sniggered at the merperson in front of them.
Y/N pulled her wand out, and aimed it at the boggart. "Riddikulus!" Y/N shouted, the merperson shrivelled up and turned into a muggle superhero figurine, random.
Harry's boggart cut the class off, Professor Lupin held him back to talk to him. Y/N hung around outside the classroom after as she wanted to speak to the Professor. It was the end of the day so it didn't matter if she had to wait for hours, she just wanted to ask him some stuff.
"Miss Cohen?" A voice had broken Lola's trail of thought. "Yes, Professor?"
"Are you okay?" He looked down at her. "Please may I talk to you about something?" Y/N took a deep breath, it was now or never. "Of course, come back into the room." He let her back into the class.
"Is this about your boggart? Merpeople, was interesting." Lupin sat at his desk. Lola shook her head. "That was uh, fun. I fell into the lake in my first year and a merperson grabbed me. But that wasn't what I wanted to talk to you about."
"What is it then?"
"Did you, around thirteen- fourteen years ago, know a woman called Trina Cohen?" Y/N noticed the mans' face go pale. "Uh, yeah, I did. Why?" He squeaked out. "Just wondering, that's my mum. Is all." Y/N said, she regretted bringing the subject up, to begin with.
"Ah, um. Okay. Why were you asking? Bit random." He nervously laughed. "Mum said that I got my dad's eyes and hair, and you fit that description. I may have also stolen a photo from my mum's collection without telling her. This is it, actually." Y/N pulled a photo from a pocket inside of her school robes and handed it to Lupin.
"That's, that's me." Professor Lupin's face pulled a funny expression, a mix of upset and a few other emotions that Y/N was unable to pick out. "Here." He handed her the photo back. "You need to leave, now." He escorted her out of the room and locked the door.
"Hey, Y/N! What's up?" Ron looked at the girl, studying her face as she scrunched it up in an attempt not to cry.  "I told Lupin that I think he may be my father." Y/N sniffled. "And?"
"He just told me to leave, that's about it." She whispered. "I'm sorry." Ron pulled the girl into his arms, and hugged her tightly. "Shall we head back to the common room?" He asked, Y/N nodded.
"What did he say to you?" Ron asked as the pair sit down. "Why are you asking, bit random. Then he said that's me when I showed him the photo and then told me to leave." Y/N wiped her robe sleeve over her eyes, wiping away a few stray tears.
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"Y/N, please may I speak to you at the end of the lesson?" Professor Lupin stopped at Y/N's desk on his way into the classroom. "Of course Professor." Y/N mumbled.
The lesson flew by, they were learning about Redcaps and Hinkypunks that lesson. At the end of the lesson, everyone packed up, Ron and Hermione turned to Y/N and told her that they'd keep a seat for her at the lunch table.
"Miss Cohen, I need to talk to you about the subject you brought up the other day." Professor Lupin resumed his seat. Y/N's face went pale. "I apologies for that Professor, it was random to bring up."
"I owled your mother and had a little chat with her. You're right, I am your father." The greying man looked up at her. "You, you are?" Y/N's eyes widened, he nodded.
"I am. I apologise for not being around ever. Your mum wanted you to grow up without magic, she's a muggle as you know. I also am a monster, I'm dangerous. I'm a-"
"Werewolf?" She asked. "Yeah, how did you know?" Lupin ran his hand through his hair. "Snape taught us about werewolves that one lesson you were off last month, mentioned something about them being "too close for comfort"." The brown-haired girl imitated the evil Professor. "I also noticed how your scars looked and how ill you looked the days either side of the full moon."
"That's why I didn't want to be around, I was scared I'd hurt you. Scared I'd make you a monster."
"You aren't a monster, you're such a nice person. How can people see any different? Seriously, what is wrong with those people?" Y/N made a face. "Not everyone thinks like you, sadly. Anyway, I meant to ask, you're not a werewolf too, are you?" She shook her head, he sighed in relief.
"I know I'm an awful person for leaving, but I'd like to try and make it up to you, if that's alright with you?" Professor Lupin studied her face. "Don't speak like that, you aren't an awful person. I understand why you did it. Of course, it's alright with me. I've always wanted to meet you." Y/N gave the Professor a small smile.
"Can I, can I hug you?" The werewolf asked cautiously, he didn't know if he even had the right to hug her. He didn't get an answer, the teenage girl ran forward, she launched herself at him. "I'll take that as a yes then." Lupin laughed.
"I'm so glad I found you. Dad."
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flames-tstuff · 3 years ago
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Okay so, um, I hope you don’t mind me requesting something! ^.^ 💕 You always support me and I wanna support you too!
So, Uraraka and Ojiro. Fluff & Tickles. The idea is that Uraraka is stressed out and one way she copes is by coloring, and Bakugou or whoever sees her and teases her, then Ojiro defends her and says like, it’s fine to be a kid sometimes, bc they’ve grown up pretty fast. And so like, the next day they go to a park and swing, he gets her ice cream, then they go back to the dorm and color while watching cartoons, and then a tickle scene happens on the cartoon, and then it leads to him tickling her and hugs and cuddles and friendship. Aaaaa 🙈
To Be a Kid Again (BNHA)
Ojiro wants to show Uraraka that it’s okay to be a kid again sometimes.
Pairings: Platonic Uraraka and Ojiro
Warnings: Bakugou being a jerk, some light angst
Word count: 1.9k
A/N: Omg this is such a cute pairing!! I've never even considered them together, either as friends or as partners. What would their ship name be? Ojiraka? Also, I've never written for either of them, so I hope this is okay!
Uraraka was tired. It had been a long day at school, and despite the fact that it was only Wednesday, she was more than ready for the weekend.
After changing out of her uniform and grabbing a couple items from her room, Uraraka flopped down onto one of the couches of the commons with a heavy sigh. She really didn’t have anything to do now that classes were over for the day. She’d already finished her homework and dinner wasn’t for another or hour or so. Despite how exhausted she was, she had just enough energy left to do one of her favorite activities to pass the time: coloring.
She didn’t know why exactly, but something about sitting down and letting herself get lost in the mindlessness of coloring had always been soothing to her. So there she was, sitting on the couch crisscross, using her knee as a table and getting to work. After a few minutes, the brain fog that had been plaguing Uraraka the last couple of hours began to disappear, and her mind was back as ease.
That was, until Bakugou came into the room. Looking just as tired and grumpy as she felt, Bakugou was about to head up to his room when Uraraka accidentally caught his eye.
“What are you looking at, Round Face?”
She quickly looked back down at her lap in alarm. “N-Nothing. Sorry.”
Bakugou continued to glare her way when he noticed the book in her lap and the pile of markers next to her. He came a few feet closer, eyeing it suspiciously.
“Tch. What are you, five years old?”
“Wh… what do you mean?”
At this time, Ojiro had just entered the commons and was just about to step into the elevator when the other students’ conversation caught his attention.
“Coloring books? Seriously? That shit’s for babies.”
Uraraka felt her cheeks start to burn.
“Hey, hey!” Ojiro jogged over to see what the commotion was about. Bakugou tended to pick fights pretty easily. “What’s going on here?”
Bakugou just crossed his arms and scowled at him.
Ojiro looked down at Uraraka, whose ears and cheeks were painted red. He then noticed the art supplies surrounding her. “Is he giving you a hard time?”
Uraraka just looked back and forth between the two of them, not daring to say anything.
“I heard you say something was ‘for babies,’” Ojiro turned to Bakugou with a stern look on his face. “You weren’t talking about coloring, were you?”
Again, silence.
“It’s really not, you know. People draw and color all the time! Besides, even if it was, what’s wrong with that? Everyone should be allowed to do things they enjoy, especially something as harmless as coloring. I don’t see what the problem is.”
“The problem is that we’re trying to be heroes!” Bakugou shot back. “Heroes shouldn’t be doing childish shit like that! If you really wanted to be a hero you’d be out training!”
Ojiro sighed, a little exasperated. “Of course training is important. But rest is important too. Doing things you love is important. If you don’t take the time to be a kid and let loose a little, you’re going to burn out. No pun intended, in your case, Bakugou.” Ojiro smiled, a little teasingly.
“Ugh, whatever,” Bakugou relented and headed back towards the elevator. “Whatever it’ll take for you to shut up and stop lecturing me.”
Uraraka and Ojiro both snickered at that, and in a few moments, it was just the two of them.
“Sorry about that,” Ojiro said apologetically. “Bakugou can be a real pain sometimes.”
“No kidding,” she agreed. “Um… thanks. You really didn’t have to do that. I’m sure I would’ve been okay on my own.”
“Of course you would have! But what are friends for?” Ojiro smiled brightly, holding out his hand. Uraraka smiled back and accepted the hand up. “You hungry? I think it’s about time for dinner.”
~~~
The next day was just as hard, though Uraraka did feel a little better after a good night’s sleep.
After dinner the previous night, Ojiro had asked if she’d want to hang out the next day after classes, in attempt to keep tabs on her since her fight with Bakugou. She assured him she was fine, but he insisted that it was his treat, so she obliged.
“So where are we going?” Uraraka asked walking next to Ojiro on the sidewalk.
“I’m taking you to one of my favorite places.” The two entered a chain link-fenced area.
“…a playground?”
“Yep! This was one of my favorite places in the world as a kid, and it still is. Come on! Let’s swing!”
And before she could argue, Ojiro grabbed her hand and tugged her along towards the swing set. Thankfully there wasn’t anyone else around, so they had the place to themselves.
“So,” Uraraka started, swinging her legs a little. “Why are we doing this exactly? I mean, don’t get me wrong, I love hanging out! But where is this coming from?”
Ojiro laughed and rubbed the back of his neck, a little sheepish. “I was thinking, well… I wanted to show you that’s it’s okay to be a kid. To let loose a little. You seemed like you needed it, especially after what happened yesterday.”
Uraraka’s heart warmed at that. She really couldn’t ask for better classmates as friends.
Ojiro’s expression dropped to something a little more serious. “I’ve realized that we’ve all had to grow up so fast in these last few years. It makes me kind of sad.”
“Why is that?” Uraraka questioned.
“Don’t you miss this kind of stuff?” He gestured to the rest of the play set. “As much as I hate it, I think you and I both know there’s some truth to what Bakugou said yesterday. Heroes are supposed to be constantly training, constantly trying to grow and improve their skills. All that’s great, but it leaves no room to be what we actually are… teens. Kids. Don’t you ever feel like you grew up too fast?”
Uraraka couldn’t help but think about her parents. How, as just a little girl, barely old enough to go to school, she committed to helping them make money in any way she could. All the experiences she’d missed out on when she was younger due to her family’s financial situation. “Yeah… I guess I do.”
Ojiro offered a sympathetic smile. “That’s why it’s times like these, in the little spare moments we have to ourselves, that we can take the time to indulge that inner child.”
Uraraka took a moment to digest his words. “I think I understand now.” Then, in a small, hopeful voice: “Maybe... a-after we’re done here, we could... um... get some ice cream?”
Ojiro grinned. “I thought you’d never ask.” He hopped off his swing. “Race ya!”
“Hey, no fair!” Uraraka laughed and chased after him.
~~~
After getting their ice cream—strawberry for Uraraka and vanilla for Ojiro—the two friends happily walked back to the dorms together.
“By the way,” Ojiro said, “I never got the chance to tell you, but I saw your coloring book, and well… it looks really good!”
“Oh!” Uraraka looked down, a little embarrassed. “Hah, thanks…”
He could tell she did believe him. “I’m being serious! I think it’s really cool that you’re into that kind of stuff. Have you always liked coloring? You seem to be good at it.”
“Yeah, but I really can’t take much credit. I mean, it’s just filling in the shapes. It’s not like I drew it,” she reasoned, licking her ice cream.
“Hey, I can hardly stay in the lines, so it’s impressive to me.”
Uraraka laughed, knowing he was probably just saying that to make her feel good, but she appreciated it nonetheless.
“Thank you,” she said, speaking as sincere as possible. They had made it back to the common area of the dorms where they stood, waiting to depart to their own rooms. “For everything.”
Ojiro realized she thought he had brought her back here to say goodbye. “Hey, if you want, you can hang in my room.”
“Really?”
“Yeah! We could watch TV, or if you have homework to work on, I won’t bother you.”
She smiled. “I’d love that. Thanks again, Ojiro, you’re the best.” She threw her arms around him in a tight hug. Ojiro was a little taken aback, but quickly returned the gesture.
The two friends sat comfortably on his bed with their backs against the wall. The TV droned on in the background, mostly forgotten, as they chatted about school and their weekend plans.
Once the conversation died out, they settled down to watch what was playing on the screen, falling into comfortable silence. One of the characters poked the other, making them jump back and laugh. Ojiro smiled at the scene and stole a quick glance at Uraraka to see how she was doing, just in time to see her blush a little at the sight. It was so brief, if he hadn’t looked at just the right moment he would’ve missed it.
Suddenly feeling mischievous, Ojiro darted his hands to Uraraka’s sides and began squeezing, making her squeal and fall back on the bed in a fit of happy giggles.
“Ohohjiroho! Eeeep! Whaha—Why? Hahaha!”
“Because! I wanna hear you laugh! Didn’t I tell you to start letting loose?”
Uraraka was too weak and giddy to respond or do much more than weakly bat his hands in a half-hearted attempt.
Ojiro made the mistake of coming closer to get better purchase on her ribs, and Uraraka pushed through the tickly feeling just enough to be able to reach a hand up and scratch at the base of his spine, making him yelp and jerk away. This gave Uraraka just enough time to gain the upper hand by pushing him down and straddling his waist with her knees.
“Uraraka, wa-HAHAHAIT!” he burst into loud belly laughter as she began kneading up and down his torso the same way he had done to her.
“Maybe you should start taking your own advice, Ojiro!” she laughed with him. “Come on, you shouldn’t be afraid of being a kid again, right? Tickle tickle!”
This made his cheeks turn bright red and his laugh go a few pitches higher.
Uraraka was feeling all-powerful with Ojiro now at her mercy. That was, until she felt a soft, feathery feeling against her neck and under her chin, making her flinch and snort.
“Ohohoh my gohohosh, you snohorted!” Ojrio teased through his own laughter.
“N-no fahahair!” Uraraka stammered out as best she could. “You shohouldn’t be allowed t-to use your tahahail!”
“Wehehell too bahad! I’m using it!”
The two stayed like that, trying to out-tickle each other—Uraraka going at his ribs and belly, and Ojiro trying his best to throw her off using his tail to brush all over her neck and sides, both laughing hysterically. Eventually Uraraka was weakened just enough for Ojiro to get her back one last time before they both collapsed in exhaustion.
“Jeez, you don’t give up easy, do you?” Uraraka panted, a big smile still on her face.
“No,” Ojiro agreed. “But you held out pretty long too, I’m impressed.”
After finally catching their breath, Uraraka opened her arms in offering. “Cuddles?”
Ojiro couldn’t have refused the offer if he tried. “Heh. Yeah, cuddles.”
He scooted closer and wrapped his arms around her torso, leaning his head into her shoulder. She wrapped her arms around him in return, resting her head atop his.
And there they stayed for the rest of the evening.
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shouldntcryoverit · 4 years ago
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the art of discordance
a captain rex x jedi fic during clone wars era :))
no warnings i think uh yeah hope you enjoy let me know ig...
next chapter
CHAPTER ONE -
A new general. That’s what the rookies had heard, though Rex was reluctant to believe the Jedi Council had the guts to replace Skywalker. After a good few months, the captain had learnt of his general’s unique ‘disposition’, and getting a new general to step in was what he least expected.
That was until the ship landed just outside their camp and she walked out. Even from his position sitting further back on some crates, Rex could make out the figure, identifying her as one of the jedi knights, though which one escaping him. Perhaps the rumours were true.
He watched as she walked closer, hands placed purposefully and eyes wandering over the other two jedi in front of her. The commander crossed her arms defensively, though her master seemed unbothered by her arrival, excited even.
“master?” Ahsoka coughed
“oh snips!” Skywalker bleated with the same enthusiasm he had wagered throughout the interaction “this is Jaida Reyes”
“the one from your padwan stories?” Ahsoka said with smug conviction
“my reputation precedes me” her accent was crisp and calm, though her tone radiated a coolness that Ahsoka couldn’t help but feel distanced by “though i’d rather be known for my skills with a lightsaber than helping Akin steal from Obi-wan”
Ahsoka held back a snicker as Rex walked up to the three, absent minded as he double checked his comm.
“General Skywalker, we have the new coordinates” His attention tried hard to divert to the new face.
“ah thank you” Anakin turned to his friend “this is my captain, Rex”
Rex nodded at his introduction.
“i’m the new co-general, General Reyes” her face settled into the beginnings of a smile, but faultered and remained her neutral, placid gaze.
The young jedi watched with focused eyes as they walked the short distance towards the briefing tent. Already her presence seemed to spark rumours among the men, and she watched as the younger looking troopers sent her inspecting looks. It was to be expected, honestly she never wanted a big formal introduction, but she didn’t know that her arrival would breach the news so quickly.
When they arrived, the tent was half full. An open and decorated holo map was in the centre, with at least two clones at each marked entrance point.
“Boys” Skywalker called “we have a visitor”
She rolled her eyes slightly at the flamboyant gesture, but stepped forward anyway. “I’m General Reyes, apparently Skywalker wasn’t trusted enough to run his own battalion, so i got called in” Her hands rested behind her back, but a small grin encroached her face as the snipe made a few troopers smirk.
“excuse my fellow jedi, she’s never been good at taking second place” Anakin fired back, earning another set of grins.
Reyes crossed her arms as her smiling face resumed the same placcid one she’d kept previously. “i have heard nothing but good things, and i look forward to serving with you.”
The Captain moved forward from the side of the room and clicked to change the holo map, it made a small beep as he did.
“The 212th met a settlement of droids over this side of the ridge. Last report was that they were able to move forward at the threat subsided.”
“so what does that mean for us?” Jaida’s brows furrowed as Rex layed the plans out for her. Already her mind was scoping escape routes and vantage points, but she remained seemingly unbothered by the conflict describes. Rex couldn’t help but feel unmotivated by her apparent lack of interest.
“our initial plan was to take out the last forces left on the planet after the seppie defeat, but intelligence believed the 212th accidentally did it for us”
She scoffed “so we’re here for a clean up?”
“hope you brought something fun to do” Ahsoka scorned.
The efforts were limited within the first hour. Already the men were tired of the same scenery and nothing but expansive flats. The sun stood high in the sky, illuminating the landscape in a orange hue. It wasn’t hot nor cold, everything about the mission mediocre, something Reyes particularly hated. It wasn’t just her with an annoyance, she could sense the captain’s distrust. She understood it, only hoped it wouldn’t comprimise her efficiency.
As if nothing interesting was ever going to happen, a yell from a trooper a little further ahead broke the methodical thump of the machinery.
Soon followed was the sound of gun fire. Each shot was slow, until finally the enemy was visible.
“Find cover!”
“you did say you wanted action” Anakin quipped, earning an actual chuckle from her usual pursed lips. It almost caught Rex off guard.
It was unavoidable, the lack of cover meant the men were almost completely exposed, accept for the three jedi that stepped forward, sabers ignited.
Reyes was a new sight, though she didn’t look out of place on the battle field. Her lighsaber was different, instead of the usual one blade, hers had two, both green and glowing as she tactically spun it round and round, catching blasts as if it were sport. Even her fighting style seemed new, she fought with elegance and structure, each blow purposeful and strong.
Her focus was planted entirely on the enemy ahead, so much so that she failed to notice the trooper settling down beside her.
“karking droids, never seem to die” she muttered, deflecting a few more blasts.
A muffled laugh came from beside her and the familiar blue and white etched her vision.
“I’d get used to it general” a trooper grinned
Jaida turned and grimaced, an offering of acceptance. As she refocused her mind to the task at hand, a thought slipped through.
“trooper, get those three and come with me”
Her request caught the clone beside her off guard, but he complied none the least.
The five of them rounded behind the line of defence, all the way to their republic.
“uh, sir, what are we doing?” a soldier with a hand print on his chest asked, gingerly as the new, seemingly scary, general climbed onto the side.
“if i can prime the ignition gear and jinx the starter cable, I can force it into their ranks and it’ll, with any luck,” she popped her head up with a half devilish grin “turn them all into scrap parts”
It was the trooper with the cog on his helment that relaxed first “heh, they teach you that at the temple?” he quipped
“nope” she gestured for them to cover her as she popped open the side “they taught me it on florrum” she said with a smirk, before diving back into the mess of wires and sparks.
Jaida’s plan worked, and effectively too. After a very short battle, the men finished their sweep and prepared to bid the timeless campaign fairwell.
Once back on the ship, most clones settled down for the trip back to Coruscant, and Reyes followed suit, though only subtly checking that everyone was well and okay, before continuing her sweep on the ration packs. After she deemed her check satisfactory, she retreated to the command rooms. The door slid open and revealed Rex standing over a report, absent minded to say the least. His shoulders tensed momentarily as the door swooshed, and she noticed the sour taste that seemed to flood his tongue when he met her eyes.
Jaida cleared her throat, and planted fists against the table, propping herself up.
“i’m sorry, we lost men” Jaida spoke calmly, slightly softer than her usual tone.
“with all due respect sir, you don’t seem all that bothered.” Rex mentioned.
“captain” “it’s not something i’ve grown accustomed too yet” Jaida countered, though her argument didn’t cause Rex’s stance to loosen. She cleared her throat
“i’ve lost people before, and I know what it’s like to loose someone in battle, though i don’t know what it’s like to loose your brothers. i did not want this” her tone was instructive, but it softened all the same and her true compassion fell through.
Rex paused for a moment and met her eyes again “i shouldn’t have blamed you, my apologies, general”
“relax, captain”
“it’s uh, Rex, sir” he corrected. It was when he lifted his hands to the side of his helmet that Jaida realised she had never actually seen his face. It came off, and revealed a strong jaw and cheek bones, all toned perfectly set. His eyebrows arched above his eyes, a slightly different shade of golden brown than his brothers. Of course the main difference was his hair colour, short and stark blonde.
“Jaida” her response made Rex frown ”if i have to call you by your name you have to call me by mine. Jaida” she explained
“sounds fair”
“good” she smiled for the first time, and Rex liked it.
————————————
The night after an assignment was always filled with either anecdotes or silence, a relief or devastating. Jaida watched as the men loitered around crates of rations and equipment, all with distant smiles; tired.
She had previously been stuck at the medbay after the medics caught sight of her, a few gashes on her cheeks the real cause - nothing bacta wouldn’t heal, but she learnt quickly of their head medic, Kix, and his ability to scare even Jedi into looking after themselves. After making peace with the captain, a warmth had begun to spread about her.
Now, she stood against the cold duraplast walls of the Resolute, picking aimlessly at the scarce red dirt left on her hands.
“You okay Jay?” the question broke her mindless thought.
“yeah, i am” she looked up to her friend knowingly, Anakin grinning as he always did.
“Generals!” a trooper with geometric tattoos called out “come sit with us”
She turned her head sharply and gazed over the haphazard array of lounging clones
“I ought to check the ration packs” she tried to excuse.
“you should take one sir” Another clone encourage lazily “deserve it after that rescue”
She blinked for a second, unsure if it would make more sense to agree or deny. Before she said yes or no, Anakin had already collected her on his way to his own seat in the game.
Jaida sauntered over and handed each clone a bar before taking one herself, sitting down cross leggedly just as graceful as she did anything.
“sir, i don’t like it” she spoke between chews “name’s Jaida”
“well, Jaida, general’s told us a little about your career together, got any stories?”
“many” Jaida gave the first ghost of a smile any of them had seen from her yet, however small it may have been, and lent backwards against another log “Anakin ever told you about the time we climbed to the very top of the temple walls?”
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calwrites · 4 years ago
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The Illusion (part 1)
Summary: Reader has tried her hardest to keep the rest of the BAU from learning about her past. When her father dies and she has to go home, her secrets might come out.
Pairing: Spencer Reid x Umbrella Academy!Reader
Warnings: none
Word Count: 4.8k
This is kind of a crazy, stupid idea, but I’ve read a couple fics where the reader is like an Avenger or a vampire and the team finds out and I think they’re really fun, so I decided to give it a try. Part 2 will come out in a few days probably. I’m trying to decide how far into the show to go.
--------------------------
“Well I don’t know about you guys, but I am so ready to go home,” Derek groaned. The rest of the team echoed his sentiment as you all followed him into the small town police station that you had been in way too much this past week. You were more than ready to get back to your apartment and not talk to anyone until Monday.
In the back of your mind, you knew that Allison’s new movie had just come out. She had probably been getting ready for the premiere as you were tackling the unsub. Still, you should probably see the movie this weekend, while you had some free time without a case. Even though the premise didn’t exactly entice you, you should at least see it so you could text her about how good she was in it. It had been too long since you had talked to your sister. A few texts after the news of her divorce broke and some empty promises to hang out soon, but you hadn’t had a real conversation with her in over a year. It had been a lot longer since you had talked to the rest of your siblings, with the exception of Diego, who would appear occasionally to ask for your help in whatever “case” he was working. You had learned that it was easier to help him find whatever information he was looking for and then send him on his way. He was less likely to break into your apartment or try to hack your work computer that way.
Still, it would be nice to see Allison again, even if it was just on a screen. Your eyes flicked to Spencer before you could stop them. He invited you to so many niche events that maybe he wouldn’t question why you wanted to see the new Allison Hargreeves movie so badly or why you invited him. 
You weren’t really sure if you two had been on any actual dates or if you were just two friends hanging out. He always had some reason why he was inviting you specifically. You knew Russian, so he wouldn’t have to translate the movie for you. You knew Roman comedy, so the two of you could discuss whether the performance was historically accurate. You knew Japanese art history, so you could carry out a conversation about the new exhibit. None of those reasons stopped the crush that you had on Spencer Reid.
But you couldn’t say anything. Besides the fact that he was your coworker, you couldn’t risk him getting dragged into any family drama. None of your coworkers knew about your family. As far as anyone was aware, you didn’t have a good relationship with your family, and you certainly didn’t like to talk about them. They probably had their own theories about why. What had your family done that made you not flinch when cases took a turn like this last one did? Why weren’t you surprised that a father could kill his child and then pretend to be the picture of grief? Because as far as you were concerned, your father had killed two of his children and had killed everything good about the other six.
These thoughts ran silently through your head as you helped the team pack everything up. Soon, you would be on the jet, heading back to DC. And tomorrow, you would see your sister’s new movie. Hopefully, with Spencer.
A noise from the TV in the corner of the station shook you out of your thoughts. Breaking news, apparently. You turned back to the papers you were organizing, prepared to ignore whatever celebrity cheating scandal they were about to break.
“...the death of the world’s most eccentric and reclusive billionaire…”
The words made your breath catch. There was only one person they could be talking about. You made yourself look at the TV. Staring back at you was your father’s face. Or a picture of it, at least. Though really, you saw pictures of your father more than you had ever actually seen your father in person.
“Wow.” JJ’s voice beside you startled you a bit. “Reginald Hargreeves. I haven’t thought about him in forever.”
“I can’t believe he died. I kind of assumed he would live forever,” Emily said from your other side. It seemed the TV had caught everyone’s attention. “I mean, he was a crazy billionaire. Aren’t they supposed to find the secret to eternal life?”
“Y/N, are you okay?” You met Spencer’s kind eyes, but couldn’t find any words for a few seconds. Finally, you managed a smile.
“Of course. It’s just kind of shocking, I guess. Why?”
“You’re rubbing your arm. You do that when you’re upset.” You hadn’t even realized that you were doing it again. Had you always done it? You must have, if Spencer had noticed.
You could still remember the first time. It was a few days after you had gotten the stupid tattoo. Your skin was still sore, but you had scrubbed and scrubbed, trying to get the tattoo to wash off, until your skin was red and raw. You knew it wouldn’t wash off. You knew, yet you tried constantly. Even now, apparently. Now your father was dead and you would still have that stupid tattoo that marked you as one of his. As one of the Umbrella Academy kids. A freak. A soldier. A pawn.
Shaking your head a bit to clear your thoughts, you looked at Spencer. “I think I’m just ready to be home. It’s been a long case, and this is weird news to get at the end of it. I’m just tired.”
You weren’t sure if Spencer believed you, but he nodded and didn’t question it. The team continued packing up in silence. It wasn’t until you were back on the jet that anyone brought it up again.
“So who was your favorite Umbrella Academy kid?” Derek asked, breaking the silence of the jet.
“Let me guess, yours was Spaceboy. You wanted to be super strong like him,” Emily teased lightly.
“For your information, my favorite was The Kraken. If he was that good with knives, imagine how good he would be throwing a football,” Derek corrected her, an easy smile on his face. How strange that everyone else could talk so casually about them. Of course, as far your team was concerned, they were just names and faces from TV or trading cards. They weren’t real people.
“Well I wanted to be The Rumor. Imagine how much easier sneaking out would be if you could just tell your parents to let you go.” Emily laughed as she said it. She didn’t understand how easy it was to get caught up in that power. You had seen it happen, though.
“I always liked The Illusion. I mean, making people see whatever you wanted them to would be so cool. Plus, reading minds would be helpful. It would make interrogations go a lot quicker.” It was only because of years of practice that you didn’t react to JJ’s words. The rest of the team began discussing how helpful it would be to be able to read an unsub’s mind. Not that you would know. You refused to do it.
“Project your consciousness into their brain. Know their thoughts. See what they see.”
Those words were some of your earliest memories. You would stand across from one of your siblings, reading their thoughts, seeing through their eyes, hearing through their ears, feeling what they felt, while your father kept repeating those words. That was before you had realized the true extent of your powers.
“Y/N, who was your favorite?” You blinked in surprise at Derek’s question. Everyone’s eyes were on you.
“It changed, I guess.” It was a lame answer, but they accepted it and continued to argue amongst themselves about who was the best. It was the truth, though. You had always been close with Allison. That had never changed. The girls had to stick together. You guessed that you were probably close to Vanya when you were younger, but you saw her less and less as you got older and training began to occupy more of your time. You certainly weren’t close to her now. Not after what she had written about you.
You and Five had been close for a time. Both of you were desperate to prove to your father that you were more powerful than he thought. That you weren’t worthless just because you were on the lower half of the rankings. But then Five had disappeared, and you discovered a new aspect of your powers. 
It was because of Luther. A few weeks had passed since Five’s disappearance, and Luther, in a horrible attempt to “be a leader” and “boost morale” had said that Five brought the disappearance on himself because he hadn’t listened when Dad told him not to try time travelling. Something in you had snapped. You wanted Luther to experience what you had imagined Five did. Lost in darkness, unsure of where or when you were. Just an expanse of nothingness. 
You didn’t even know you were doing it at first, but Luther started to scream. It was over as quick as it began, thanks to the shock of Luther’s yell. He shivered as he explained that suddenly he couldn’t see, hear, or feel anything. It was like nothingness. Luther never quite forgave you for that, but you would never forget the joyful look in your father’s eyes as he realized that it was your doing. That not only could you tap into another person’s brain. You could manipulate it.
But it was harder to control. And after you accidentally left one criminal permanently blind, you were scared of your powers. Klaus and Ben understood how you felt, and the three of you became inseparable. Even after Ben died, that didn’t change. None of your siblings knew that Ben was still around, but you did. Klaus would let you use his eyes and ears so that you could talk to Ben. You missed them. Klaus would show up at your apartment sometimes, looking for money. You would get him to stay for a few days and take some time off work so you could watch him. The three of you would hang out like old times. But eventually you would have to go back to work, and you would come back to find an empty apartment and missing cash.
Despite the fact that Diego was the one you talked to most often now, you two hadn’t gotten along as children. There were rare times when you would click, but for the most part it was constant bickering. You two were too much alike. Quick to anger and slow to forgive.
You were stuck in these memories for the rest of the flight. No one said anything about your silence, but you did feel Spencer’s gaze on you often. You continued to rub your arm, like you would be able to rub off the tattoo that was always covered by your sleeve.
Most of the team left the office pretty quickly once you arrived back in DC. They dropped off whatever needed to be dropped off, then headed home. You lingered, wanting to catch Hotch alone. It would be easier if there was no one around to question what you needed to talk to him about.
“Do you want me to wait up, Y/N? We can take the metro back together.” You smiled genuinely at Spencer’s question. The two of you lived close to each other, so you often left together, either carpooling or taking the metro together.
“No, it’s fine. I need to talk to Hotch before I leave. I’ll see you soon.” Spencer gave you a small wave as he left. You watched him go, feeling strangely sad. How you wished you could walk out with him and ask if he wanted to go see a movie tomorrow night. It seemed so long ago when that had been your plan.
“Hotch.” You knocked on his door, waiting for his answer before opening the door. He was looking over paperwork, as usual, and barely looked up when you came in. “I was wondering if I could have a few days off.”
That made him look up, his eyes drilling into yours. “Is everything okay?”
“Yes.” No. “I just need a few days. I don’t want to be gone long. It’s my brother.” It was the same thing you said whenever Klaus or Diego showed up. You waited for Hotch’s answer, a carefully blank look on your face. There were always a few seconds where you would worry that he had somehow figured out who you were. That the fake last name and fake childhood records weren’t enough. But they always were.
“Of course, Y/L/N. Take as much time as you need. And we’re here if you need anything.”
“Thank you, sir.” You smiled at him as you walked out of his office, though smiling was the last thing you wanted to do. Now you had no reason not to go back home. You would have to try to mourn your father. You would have to see your siblings.
--------------------------
The house looked exactly like you remembered. Big and empty. The sound of the door echoed as it closed behind you. You wondered if anyone else was here yet. You heard the steps of someone walking towards the entryway. Allison, if you had to guess, based on the footsteps.
“Y/N!” You were right. The smile that lit up your face was mirrored on Allison’s as you two rushed to hug each other. “I’ve missed you.”
“You too. I hope you don’t mind if I don’t make it to your movie this weekend.” The two of you laughed for a few seconds before remembering why you were there. “How are you doing?”
Allison shrugged and shook her head slightly. “I already lost my husband and I’m not allowed to talk to my daughter. Now my father is dead. It’s been a rough year. How are you? How’s the genius you’re almost dating?”
“I’m good. We just finished a rough case yesterday, so I’m a little bummed that I don’t get to relax this weekend. Spencer is also good. The other week we went to a shadow puppet theater festival. He said that he was glad he had a friend who was willing to go to stuff like that with him, so I don’t think he’s interested in me.”
Allison linked her arm through yours. You walked slowly through the halls, not talking. It was comforting enough just being with someone who understood what you were going through. With Allison, actions spoke louder than words.
“Is anyone else here yet?”
“Diego and Luther. I haven’t seen Klaus or Vanya. Who knows if they’ll show up.”
“Klaus will show up if he knows about it and isn’t in rehab. I wouldn’t be surprised if Vanya doesn’t show. She’s already said a lot about Dad. I don’t know if she has anything more to add.”
“You’re still mad.” It wasn’t a question, but you nodded anyway. “You know how excluded Vanya was growing up. Can you blame her?”
“That wasn’t our fault. If she wanted to tell her story, that’s fine. If she wanted to drag Dad’s name through the mud, that’s fine. He more than deserved it. She didn’t need to write about the rest of us though. I mean, my coworkers read that book. One detail that’s too specific and they could have figured out who I am. ‘So desperate to prove that she’s worthy of being called a hero that even now she devotes her life to fighting crime.’ She might as well have told everyone that I’m an FBI agent. I’ve tried so hard to build a normal life, and she could have ruined it all.”
A car pulled up outside the house as we passed by a window. You paused, watching as Vanya got out of the back. “Speak of the devil.”
Allison gave you a disapproving look. “I’m going to go see her. Coming?”
“Definitely not. I’ll see you later.” You could hear the door open and Vanya’s voice come floating up. You continued walking until you found myself outside of your father’s room. You could hear the floor creaking inside. Too heavy to be Diego. Must be Luther.
“What are you doing?” You asked as you walked into the room. Luther was standing by your dad’s bed, inspecting it. He was a lot bigger than the last time you had seen him. And his mind seemed to be screaming about why. You tried not to read his thoughts, but Luther’s head had always been a bit of an open book.
“This is where he died. Where Pogo found him.” Didn’t really explain what he was doing, but you could guess.
“No sign of a struggle.” You walked over to a window. It was locked. All of the windows were locked. “No sign of forced entry. No way someone could sneak in without Pogo or Mom knowing.”
“She’s right.” Diego entered. His eyes widened when he saw Luther. “Oh, you got big, Luther. What’s the secret, huh? Protein shakes? Low carbs?”
“What do you want?”
Diego pulled some paper from his pocket, holding it out to Luther. “The autopsy report.” Of course, being Diego, he pulled it back when Luther reached for it. Anything to rile up Luther.
“And you have this why?”
“Well, that’s because I broke into the coroner’s office. And surprise, surprise, Dad’s death was normal.”
“Y/N, he’s not allowed to do that,” Luther said, pointing an accusing finger at Diego as he looked at you. “You’re an FBI agent. Arrest him.”
“I’m not arresting my brother at Dad’s funeral. And I’m not on the clock. Grow up, Luther.” You took the report from Luther, glancing over it quickly. Heart failure. Normal. No reason to question it. But Luther would, and you didn’t want to be there when he and Diego started to fight. “I’ll leave you boys to it. I’m going to see if I can find Klaus.”
You left quickly. Where would Klaus go if he was here? You rolled your eyes when you realized the obvious answer. Dad’s office. Not only would there be valuables there, it would also be like giving the old man a giant middle finger. Typical Klaus.
Sure enough, you could hear him rummaging around the desk before you could see him. “Looking for something?” His head popped up, a grin splitting his face when he saw you. You wouldn’t stop him from taking anything, and he knew it. You didn’t need to enter his mind to know that he was high. You could see it in his eyes just as clearly as you could see the fresh rehab bracelet on his wrist. “Fresh out of rehab and already high? I don’t know how you manage it.”
“I guess I’m just incredible.” You rolled your eyes at him, but still accepted his hug with a smile.
“I know that this is hard for you, but Ben should be here. Even if the others can’t see him. He should get a chance to say goodbye.”
Klaus’s eyes were glued to the floor as he spoke. “I know.”
You didn’t get a chance to say anything else before Allison came in. It was nice, just the three of you. You three never fought. Mostly, you and Allison used to just laugh at whatever bit Klaus was doing.
“Number Three,” he was saying in a bad impression of your father’s voice when he was interrupted by Luther.
“Get out of his chair.” Of course. Perfect Number One was still so worried about following your father’s orders. Even now, he made Klaus empty his pockets as the two of you tried to leave so Luther and Allison could talk in private. But once you two were out of the room, you grinned and handed Klaus some things that you had snuck in your pockets before Luther came in. Nothing important or too valuable. It was really just a gesture to tell Klaus that you were on his side.
“And whatever is in your pants, make sure it’s nothing important before you sell it.” Being Klaus, he pretended to have no idea what you were talking about, but he shot you a wink before he wandered away.
--------------------------
You stood at the bar next to Klaus, wondering who was going to speak first. Your money was on Luther. You accepted the drink that Klaus handed you without bothering to ask what it was. Any alcohol would help you get through this.
“I guess we should get this started.” You were right. You took a seat as Luther stood up. You mostly tuned Luther out, as you always had. He was talking about scattering your father’s ashes.
“Dad had a favorite spot?” Allison asked.
“You know under the oak tree.” Everyone looked blankly at Luther. You remembered watching your father and Luther talking there when you were younger. It used to make you jealous. Now, it just made you mad. “We used to sit out there all the time. None of you ever did that?”
“No, Luther. We didn’t. He didn’t like any of us.” You gestured to the rest of your siblings as you spoke. You shouldn’t be doing this. You shouldn’t be lashing out. You were an FBI agent. Surely you were better than that. But there was something about being in this house with your siblings with the focus on your father that turned you into a child again.
And it didn’t matter whether you added fuel to the fire or not. Someone was bound to set everything off. 
“Listen up. There’s still some important things we need to discuss.”
“Like what?” Diego asked. You knew what Luther was going to say before he said anything.
“Like the way he died.”
“And here we go,” Diego muttered.
“I don’t understand. I thought they said it was a heart attack,” Vanya said, confusion evident in her voice.
“Yeah according to the coroner.”
“Well wouldn’t they know?” You hated to agree with Vanya, but you had to.
“Luther thinks that there was foul play,” you explained. “However, there was no sign of forced entry and no sign of a struggle.”
“Well, Y/N is an FBI agent. Why don’t you trust her?” Allison asked Luther.
“Look, I’m just saying something happened. The last time I talked to Dad, he sounded strange.”
“Oh, quelle surprise,” Klaus interjected as he gurgled his drink. That wouldn’t help Luther’s anger.
“Strange how?” Allison asked.
“He sounded on edge,” Luther explained. “Told me I should be careful who to trust.”
“Luther, he was a paranoid, bitter old man, who was starting to lose what was left of his marbles.” Of course, Luther defended your father before turning to Klaus.
“Look, I know you don’t like to do it, but I need you to talk to Dad.”
Klaus laughed. “No I can’t. I’m not in the right frame of mind.”
“You’re high?” You didn’t know how Allison was surprised. It was obvious.
“Then there’s the issue of the missing monocle.”
“Who cares about a stupid monocle, Luther?” you groaned. You noticed the way Diego’s face shifted for a second. So he had the monocle. Or he at least knew what happened to it. “No one is going to break in without alerting Mom or Pogo, kill Dad and make it look an accident, then take the stupid monocle. No one that smart would be that dumb.”
“Exactly! It’s worthless. Whoever took it, I think it was personal. Someone with a grudge.”
“Where are you going with this?”
You shook your head as Diego said what you were thinking. “Isn’t it obvious, Klaus? He thinks one of us killed Dad.” The stunned faces of your siblings looked at Luther. You shook your head in disgust.
“Way to lead, Luther,” you said sarcastically. Allison and Vanya both got up and left the room.
“Can you blame me? I mean, you’ve never tried to hide how much you hate Dad. And Diego’s some sort of vigilante now. Both of you could easily sneak in and kill him.”
“You’re crazy, man. You’re crazy.” Klaus shook his head as he got up and headed back to the bar.
���I can’t believe you, Luther.”
“Do us all a favor and go back to the moon, monkey boy.” Luther’s eyes widened at my words before his face turned red with anger.
“Get out of my head,” he growled.
“I don’t need to be in your head to figure it out. Besides, your brain is so empty that your thoughts come floating out begging to be heard.”
“Neither of you are denying it,” Luther said finally. You threw your hands up and Diego stood up suddenly.
“Why would either of us decide to kill Dad now. What’s the trigger? It doesn't make sense. Unlike you, Luther, we moved on with our lives,” you explained slowly, like he was a child.
“Don’t talk down to me just because you’re an FBI agent.”
“You think there’s a murder. I catch serial killers. You should be begging for my help.”
“Unless he thinks the two of us teamed up to kill Dad,” Diego said. The two of you turned to look at Luther. He at least had the decency to look a little ashamed that he was thinking that exact thing. At that point, everyone’s voices had risen so much that you barely noticed the knock at the door.
“I’m out of here,” Diego said softly when Luther didn’t respond.
“No you’re not. Not until we figure out what happened.” Luther grabbed Diego’s arm, so Diego, of course, punched Luther in the face. Within a few seconds, they were fighting in earnest. Diego had his knives out and everything.
“Oh, you guys, don’t do this now,” Klaus whined from the bar. “Y/N, will you do something? Take away their sight or something. I’m too sober for this.”
You hadn’t used your powers in years. Ideally, Allison would come in and rumor them to stop, but you didn’t know where she had gone. Taking a deep breath, you focused your consciousness like your father had taught you. You were careful to only enter Diego’s and Luther’s minds, leaving Klaus out of it.
Darkness.
You focused on darkness, blocking out everything that your brothers were seeing. You could do this. You could control it, at least until Allison was back. Of course, being unable to see didn’t stop your brothers from blundering around.
“Y/N, stop!” Luther’s words were accompanied by a sharp blow to the back of your head. “Oh no, Y/N, I didn’t know you were right there. I can’t see anything. Just stop this, Y/N.”
“I’m just trying to stop you two from destroying the house. Besides, isn’t this a great way to honor Dad’s memory? Fighting with each other is what he always made us do.” You tried to stand back up, but your head was spinning from the blow and from the strain. There was once a time when you could hold ten people in the darkness with ease, but you weren’t used to using your powers anymore. You no longer had to spend hours each day inside other people’s minds. You could feel your control slipping, but you couldn’t stop. Your head hurt.
“Y/N!” Klaus yelled in terror. “I can’t see, Y/N.”
You had to stop. You had to stop. You couldn’t. Your head hurt and you couldn’t seem to find a way out of their minds. You were aware of other minds in the house. More than there should be. But why? And why did your head hurt so bad?
“Y/N, what are you doing? Ahhh my head!” Diego yelled. He sounded like he was in pain. You were making him feel your pain. Since when could you do that? Your Dad would have been so happy.
“I heard a rumor that you stopped.” Allison’s voice rang out. Suddenly, you were back in your own head and the splitting headache was just yours. Diego and Luther both collapsed on the floor with you. Klaus was by your side almost instantly, a new glass in hand for you, which you gulped down quickly before handing it back to him for a refill.
“Remind me not to mess with Y/N again,” Diego sighed. You met his eyes with an apologetic smile. It felt so much like you were kids who got a little carried away during training.
“I guess I got a little carried away.” The two of you laughed, and even Luther joined in eventually. The laughter stopped abruptly when a new voice spoke.
“Y/N?”
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extremelyblackandwhite · 4 years ago
Text
handmaid - 27
PAIRING: mob!sebastian stan x ingenue!reader
WARNINGS: age gap, mention of weapons 
A/N:  more musical references ... who would’ve thought? but now i’m also adding disney references bc referencing is my passion (unless it’s for essays, then screw referencing). also i’m very sorry for being late with this chapter something happened last night and i couldn’t finish it. i hope you enjoy this chapter x
NEXT CHAPTER
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    - Un, deux, trois, quatre, cinq, six ...  - a choir of two voices echoed through the reading room in the Forrest household with one being significantly deeper while the other much higher and almost baby like. However if asked, Y/N would solely deny that being.5 made her a baby and she would constantly put five fingers up in pride of her young age. Accompanying the two voices, there was the soft sound of the very old piano which had been with the Forrest family for more than a century - sept, huit, neuf.
   - Fantastic. Play the last three notes for me by yourself this time. - Daniel smiled at the much younger Y/N dressed in a hand-me down white ruffled dress with her hair pushed out of the way by a velvet white string. Y/N giggled, her babyish laughter echoing through the room before she could concentrate on the keys of the piano, her fingers pressing the same combination as just before. 
   - Sept, huit, neuf ... Sept, huit, neuf. - her fingers played through the keys as her still very badly spoken French came through but that was the life of a lady who was to grow up to stand next to an heiress; educated in the arts and languages, polite and classic, a picture and reflection of true perfection. Fake it until you make it, it’s what her governess told her constantly. - Sept, huit, neuf. 
  - One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine. - Daniel joined in with a lower key, quickly playing through the keys and ending at the nine making Y/N smile in relief. Whenever he changed to English it normally meant the lesson was over and while Y/N loved music, she didn’t enjoy it for three hours straight in the early morning. - You know birdie, whenever you don’t wanna be somewhere try to pretend you do.
  - It’s too early. - she whined, head leaned against the keys of the very expensive shiny black instrument. 
  - Alright, birdie, go on a do whatever it is you do in your free time.
Before he could even shut down the piano’s hood, Y/N was already on her feet, the small sounds of new tiny shoes becoming further and further as she exited the reading room and bolted towards the attic. At 5 years old, the young handmaid had mastered a way to get the high door open by using two tennis rackets tied together with one of her hair strings. After doing this, the stairs came collapsing down allowing her to climb them into the attic. 
Looking around like a squirrel afraid of being caught, she returned to the pile of boxes she had found when she was rummaging through whatever had been left there. She wasn’t entirely sure who it belonged to or what it was but she was convinced that it was filled with something that looked pretty enough to belong to a princess. Opening the first box she came face to face with a gold coloured head piece. Curiously, she grabbed it from the box rushing over to a pretty old mirror with already dark spots and a bit of browning. Curiously, she lifted up the headpiece, placing it on her head. Her eyes seemed to wander around her reflection before the headpiece started to slide down, a bit too big of her. Before it could reach the floor, however, Y/N grabbed it, noticing a few letters on the in the piece. 
 - Y/N, the French tutor is here. 
 - I’m going. 
Y/N watched as Sebastian in awe as he cooked her cheese toastie. Sure, a cheese toastie wasn’t a culinary masterpiece and it was the furthest thing from being a hard task, still she was just entranced by the sight imagining what things could be. Dreaming is a dangerous two edged swords allowing you to envision everything your heart desires yet having the power to keep it as further yet close enough to reach but never have. She could almost see it, she could almost see and hear the future that would never be. With eyes wandering to the piano in the living room, she could see and hear being sat at the piano teaching her child how to play while Sebastian made his cheese toasties in the kitchen. Yet again dreams aren’t reality, reality is much more bitter and unforgiven. 
    - Look at that, unburned. - Sebastian slide a perfectly white porcelain plate towards her containing the delicious snack. 
    - I’m rather scared that burning is your only evaluating tool for cooking. - she tried to hold in a little child-like smile but her muscles had more strength. - Thank you.
    - Well, angel, unless you can cook better than me I believe you have no right in criticising. - he took a seat very close to her, choosing to instead stare at her rather than eat along with her. At that comment Y/N scoffed, giving him a look that made him question his statement and wonder if she was some sort of hidden stellar cook. 
   - I would say I can, at least, cook better than you. 
   - What can’t you do? You’re like this untouchable Edwardian woman. I don’t think I’ve ever met someone who is so effortlessly ready to be in high society.
   - I don’t belong in high society. - she seemed to stare blankly at the wall of the kitchen and how perfectly straight the back splash had been placed. Every single square perfectly placed yet not noticeable by its own, unless bringing perfection to the whole piece itself. - You just have to pretend you do. No one in this business is gonna give their daughter up to be standing next to someone who’s bound to inherit an empire ... you said yourself, if they shoot at an heiress they’ll shoot at you too. It’s more like picking someone off the street and dressing them up just good enough that you believe they’re untouchable. 
   - You don’t give yourself enough credit. 
   - I think you just see me through rose coloured glasses. - she took a bite off the sandwich. - You know what? That’s pretty good. 
   - Thanks, angel. - he kissed the top of her head. - Hey, how about we do something you really like tonight? 
   - No. - she held his hand. - Let’s do something you like to do. We never do something you like to do, why don’t you pick?
   - Angel, I don’t think you’d enjoy it. 
  - It can’t be that bad. - she put what was left from the sandwich in the plate, wiping her hands clean from the grease. -  You do what I want all the time. 
  - I like making you happy, angel. - he leaned towards her, placing a soft and quick kiss on top of her nose. - Besides, you haven’t made me do anything particularly torturous. 
  - No. - she crossed her arms at him, jumping from her high seat. - We are doing something you like doing tonight. 
  - Okay, angel. Let’s go then. 
There was no denying her, or at least he hadn’t built a backbone to deny her yet. Nevertheless, he took her back to the garage yet instead of walking into the unit they had just been in, both of them kept walking and walking passing various units with various numbers, probably belonging to other tenants. He finally stopped in front of an abnormally large unit which had a pin code pad. Quickly and almost mechanically he put the code in which made the door unlock allowing him the open it up. Stepping inside, this unit was way more organised than the last one with what looked like a small version of a shooting range. A mob boss liking to shoot ... original. 
  - Do the neighbours not complain about the noise? - she wondered out loud. 
  - Soundproof walls. - he gave her his regular pearly white smile, taking a pair of noise cancelling headphones and googles from the wall. - Besides, it’s my building. 
  - I’m sure someone probably has complained. - she teased as he put a pair of googles on her face. - Have you ever shot a gun, angel?
  - I did archery in school. - she shrugged. Gwen and Dan usually went for the shooting range back when they were younger but Y/N was always one to take that time to herself and stay home either practicing for her lessons or reading. Besides, she was entirely sure she didn’t even know how a gun worked. - Didn’t have a good aim.
 - Well, this it’s not entirely like archery. - he opened a black panel, grabbing a matte black revolver before handing it to her. Y/N, however, stared at it untrusting of the object. - You’ve grown up with the mob, don’t tell you’ve never touched a gun. 
 - They told me not to and I enjoy following rules. - Y/N crossed her arms, defensive of her statement which made Sebastian smirk. - Besides, what if I touched it and it accidentally shot me? 
 - It’s locked, angel. - he placed the revolver in front of the circle target so he could put the noise cancelled headphones on her, leaving it just spaced enough so he could still talk to her. - Besides, maybe you should know how to defend yourself.
 - Okay. - still a bit guarded, she picked up the weapon, placing herself in line with the target while Sebastian was by her side. 
 - It’s a quick-lock system. - he helped her unlock the gun. - Now, regularly most of the ones in the mob have a quick-lock system so if you’re eve ...
 - I don’t wanna think about it. - the memory of the gunshot from earlier had her not in the mood to think about danger. Maybe there was imminent danger to avoiding the probability of her being hurt but half her mind wanted to believe that people wouldn’t shot at her. Sebastian tightened his lips, changing his narrative. - What if it shoot you by accident?
 - Angel, that is pointing nowhere near me. - he tapped her elbow. - Eyes on the target and pull the trigger. 
Y/N swallowed in dry, looking up from the gun to the bullseye before pulling the trigger. The sound didn’t hit her as hard due to the headphones but she still took a step back out of surprised followed by an upset moan due to the fact the bullet had hit the furthest place from the target. 
  - Right... - Sebastian placed himself behind her, arms coming up to her, almost mirroring her position so he could move her arms and overall aim in the right position. - Take a deep breathe, pick your target, concentrate and shoot. 
  - Okay. - she took a deep breath, feeling his skin too close to her in a way which almost made her too weak on the knees to concentrate on the target. Nevertheless, she focused on the bullseye, pressing the trigger which caused a back/forward motion and the bullet when straight into the target making her eyes and smile widen as her ego swelled up with pride. She turned around, pulling Sebastian into a hug. - I did it!
Sebastian locked the revolver, placing it back on the table before returning to a very enthusiastic Y/N yet not very excited to do it again. Nevertheless, Sebastian was happy she at least knew how to use a weapon, just in case. As he opened his mouth to say something, his phone started to ring. God, just fantastic. Sighing in defeat, he put his phone on to his hear, a fairly familiar yet annoying voice coming through. Y/N watched in confusion, not entirely sure who was at the phone but from what she could manage from his words it seemed like he was getting an invite which he was very against. After what felt like a good 5 or 10 minutes of speaking on the phone, begrudgingly he turned his phone off, looking at Y/N with a look which was very indescribable.  
  - Are you okay? - she took a few steps forward, wrapping her arms around his neck, one of her hands coming to brush his hair soothingly. - Who was it?
  - Gwen. She’s spending New Years at the Ritz and she wants you to go. 
  - The Ritz? I thought she was going to Monaco. 
 - Seems like she decided to stay in New York and wants you and me there for good measure. 
 - I know for a fact she does not enjoy your company? Why the sudden change of heart?
 - We are getting married in two weeks, angel. I would call it PR but then again, what hasn’t been PR with the two of us?
 - Oh ... right ... the wedding. - sometimes Y/N forgot that she was very much involved with a man stuck in his engagement. It wasn’t like he could break it, that was a death sentence and probably the biggest mistake he could make. However, she still didn’t know how she was gonna handle it. Maybe Mr. Forrest was right, maybe she should go to Paris after all of this was over, maybe she should just start to distance herself but how could she distance herself from someone who is just so magnetic without even trying? How do you ignore a magnetic pull? - Well, I guess we should pack ... again. 
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