#and i phrased my point wrong at the time cause I was barely older than him | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

chocominnie · 3 years ago

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One Last Time 03 — Pjm. (M)

⇢ pairing: Jimin X Reader

⇢ Genre: Idol!Jimin, Exbf!Jimin, model!reader, sad au, fluff, tons of smut, angst

⇢ Synopsis: Your idol ex boyfriend Jimin cheated on you. You two have been broken up for a while now and the media has been keeping track of you and him. You’re trying to get over him, but the things that happen inbetween makes you re-think the entire breakup, and so does Jimin…

⇢ Song : xxxxx

⇢ Previous : 00 01 02

⇢ Word Count : 4.2k

⇢ Warnings: dominant jimin, makeout sessions, this is honestly a sad angsty au, cheating, pregnancy, unprotected and protected sex, a bunch of sex, no really a LOT of sexual themes too, I know I’m forgetting some but sorry in advance!

⇢ Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Authors note: This is my mini series for the summer! Get your tissues, things to take your anger out on, and sit back and watch the drama unfold. Shall we begin?

Being a model isn’t as always what people view it as. It’s not all just fun and prancing around in clothing that’s either revealing or not. It’s about business and fun but you mustn’t mix pleasure in. Every model knows that. But you, you took advantage of that. You decided you wanted to know what would happen if you had did that. And that is how everything went wrong.

You had actually met Jimin through Jungkook. But, BigHit staff did a casting call for one of their music videos. You had gotten chosen and while at the shoot Namjoon had sparked in interest for you. He spoke fluent english that glided of his tongue ever so breathlessly. But his adorable, cheeky dimple smile had put the icing on the cake for you. You two had been friends ever since.

They needed two girls, the protagonist and the antagonist. You were the protagonist while another was the antagonist but the role did fit you well. You aren’t the type to cause trouble and when your manager explained the script and concept to you, she thought it was a perfect match to your real life personality.

You and Jimin had hit it off right then and there. You loved his smile, his way of talking, and his cute little English phrases he would slip in then and there to you on set. It was the most adorable thing ever. He was a smooth talker too. Then Bam! You didn’t know what had gotten into him. Well.. the acting was for the concept music video, but you’ve never seen someone go from adorable to to a dominant personality so quickly. The entire switch up from the persona had fooled you good. Way.. too good.

That was how it hit you. You knew that he had to be yours.

But then yours.. became shared.

Then sharing became permanent.

Now you are single and heartbroken.

“ Long time no see! How have you been?”

You smile and take in his huge bear hug. He smelled so divine. Namjoon has always carried himself like a mature man, but in the inside you knew he’s a child at heart.

‘‘ Im fine. How are you? I’ve been on a little hiatus.” You nervously chuckle, assuming he already knows why. Namjoon nods his head and guides you further into the set.

It’s the inside of an apartment. They’ve set it up so pretty for it to seem like it’s a real apartment. The LED lights are beaming but not enough for it to be too bright. Just perfect. You take a glance at all around the set you would be soon using.

The bed is a modern day king size in the colour schemes of black, white and grey along with a matching dresser and nightstands. White Jasmine flowers, sit on top of the nightstand along with the book milk and honey sitting next to it.

‘‘ I seen your pictures when they had dropped yesterday.” He pauses, glancing up at you to see your reaction. The way your breath hitches for a moment humored him. “ You looked very good. You did a great job. Welcome back to the business!”

Only if the business was so welcoming at all. Pictures of you had been posted on all your platforms and the comments came rushing in. Some good, but majority bad, only because the people of the world thought your comeback was revenge for Jimin’s comeback. Turns out, he had a comeback three days before you. You didn’t know, because you don’t keep up with him anymore. His fanbase was actually the ones commenting to the bad comments to leave you alone and that you moved on.

If only you made it that far to move on.

Namjoon leads you to the hair and makeup station that’s been set up for the both of you. Each of you greet them and take a seat in the two black director’s chair with your name on it. As you sat in your chair you let the stylists and make-up artist do your thing while you read the concept script of the music video.

It’s going to be Namjoon rapping about his first love and how she broke his heart repeatedly. The hazy white flashbacks are of you and him symbolizing a couple doing things of what he had did with her.

“ So you and um.. Jimin did you guys sort things out yet?’’

You lift your head from the script instantly biting your lip. You most definitely don’t want to be reminded of him at the moment.

“ No. I like the way things are now. We shouldn’t see each other anymore.’’ You roll your eyes and look back down at the white sheets of stapled paper that holds your acting skills.

“ Im sorry if I offended. I didn’t mean to it’s just that. It’s been a year and a couple of months since-’’

He means no harm at all, and you know that because its Kim Namjoon you’re talking to. This right now though, isn’t a conversation to be held right before rhe video-shoot. You shake your head letting him know not to continue on. The last thing you want is for the makeup and hairstylists gossiping. Also for your emotions to spiral all the way down again.

The hair, makeup, and clothing stylists does a very good job on you. The make up stylists did a sort of natural look to your face which made your skin look light and dewy. The natural makeup complements the oversize, long t-shirt that is supposed to symbolize Namjoon’s.

The first scene you are going to shoot is the bed scene where you will be straddling a sleepy Namjoon’s lap wearing nothing but his t-shirt and your underwear underneath. Which really isn’t your underwear but just some black shorts that you put underneath the shirt.

You spot Namjoon and the director conversing so you decide to make your way over to the bed by them. As you walk over, his manager glances and goes back to talking. You pay no mind to it but then, he does a double take with his eyes wide looking at your outfit and beauty. You cant lie, you do feel a little more confident than usual with this bedroom look.

‘‘ My goodness she looks stunning!’‘ His manager smiles, holding his hand out to greet you. You take his hand and do a courtesy greet due to the fact he’s older than you.

Namjoon eyes you up and down, smiling showing his deep dimples and pearly whites. Since when is he all flirty? Where is all this coming from? What’s getting into him?

‘‘ Yes she does. Are you ready?’‘

You nod your head, glancing at the properly messy bed. The director gives you guys one last look before heading over to his place right next to the cameras. Namjoon grasps your wrists as you both make your way to the bed, letting your ears listen to the instructions.

Namjoon gets into the bed first and then motions for you to sit on his waist. You bite your lip subtlety with your eyes not leaving his as you climb carefully over onto his lap. Your core almost inches away from him member, you don’t mean to brush a little too hard against him like that. The way he hisses and stifles his groan makes you feel apologetic.

Oh Namjoon, what is going on with you?

‘‘ I need you to try waking him up with little kisses on his cheek then down his chest.’’

Glancing down at his bare chest, you almost gasp at the muscles he has. Your mind completely had ignored it when you two were chatting with the director. Namjoon isn’t the kind to work out as much but he definitely prepared for this music video.

You nod your head just before Namjoon closes his eyes to fake his slumber. Leaning down after the director gave you two the green light, you smell his cologne which smells pretty good to say the least. The butterflies in your stomach flutter like no other when you start to leave butterfly kisses on his cheeks, making sure to kiss his dimples then trailing over to his neck.. then chest.

‘‘ Namjoon wake up smiling… right about now.’‘

His eyes flutter open with a smile landing onto yours which makes you smile right back at him.

‘‘ Interlock your hands and hold them up high.’‘

Both of you smile ear to ear and giggle at the awkwardness almost nearly as a real couple except you guys aren’t, and this isn’t real.

It was easy for you to act like you were in love with Namjoon due to the friendship you have with him. Ever since the boys were together in a group, you had connected easily with Namjoon. He has this friendly yet funny aura about him. He’s the sweetest guy you ever met, just before Hoseok. Namjoon was the one who made you feel welcomed and comfortable upon meeting the members for the first time, while you had dated Jimin.

His eyes roam over your body intimidated by the lack of proper clothing you have on. Soon his hands take over and start to roam your body from shoulders to waist. Namjoon often bit his lip as if was thinking of saying something, but doesn’t. At this point you didn’t know if the acting was real or not.

A day’s worth of shooting and this was it. You’ve moved locations just for this scene which is supposed to be in the middle of a vacant two way road surrounded by nothing but dust and a few trees. The last major scene. You had seen Namjoon rap his part repeatedly in different sets for him that did not include you. The dark clothing and light colored hair suited him just right.

The closing scene is the one left and ironically, it’s the make-out scene.

To your left, someone had started a bonfire to keep the staff warm as they converse about the scene and read through the scripts. You huff lightly as you get out of the chair instantly regretting it as the cold air hits your nearly exposed legs.

They’ve dressed you into a maroon skirt and a grey knit sweater that is fairly itchy paired with a knit infinity scarf. Your hair was let down to compliment your face.

‘‘ Yn!’’

You turn your head immediately over towards the direction of that voice. To your luck it’s Jungkook holding a big brown bag and two canisters of god knows what. But who trails after him makes your smile drop.

Jungkook smiles jogging towards you, almost slipping from being excited too see you. You open your arms fully to embrace his figure in which in return he provides.

“ Are you still mad at me?’’

You inhale the scent of him with a smile making sure to make eye contact with the one standing further away from him, “ No Jungkook.”

He lets go of your intertwined bodies and gives you one of his bunny smiles making you giggle at his excitement. “ I bought Namjoon and you some hot chocolate and plenty of rice-cake dumpling soup since you are working hard.”

‘‘ Thank you we will eat after this last scene okay?”

The cameras and lights are beaming down on you and Namjoon. It’s all or nothing at this point. The camera crew and director murmur a bit just before calling out that word. Action.

Namjoon looks slightly down at you with his glossy eyes. You challenge him back while not saying a word at all.

“ Are you comfortable with this?” He whispers. No, truth is you aren’t and have no desire in kissing him. To you, you feel like the kiss would make things a bit awkward for the both of you.

He’d been subtly flirting all day with you and of course you pick up on it everytime. It’s not like yourself to do such things with people you don’t have feelings for in a romantic way. Let alone, flirt with your ex’s band brother.

“ Yes.” It’s not like you have a choice to say no to it. You signed the contract, so you have to complete the entire scenes. Just your luck, Namjoon’s song begins to play in the background.

He leans in for a kiss with your face inches apart from each other. So close that you can feel his eyelashes brush against yours. He’s stalling you, making you try to be the one to start the kiss. A small smirk on his face when you oblige taking him into the kiss. Your lips move in sync with his with his hand on your face caressing your cheek. He thinks your lips taste like strawberry chapstick, but you think his tastes like mint.

Soon his tongue slips into your mouth to deepen the kiss. You can’t help but to let out a small whimper on accident resulting in Namjoon’s hand traveling to your waist and pushing you closer to him gently. Excitment takes over you, you haven’t felt like this in a long time. Maybe it’s the lack of dating or all the couple like things you did today, but you feel loved.

And cut! That’s a wrap everyone, please pack and get home safely.

You break away from Namjoon’s lips and chuckle at the sight of him with his eyes still closed and waiting for something to happen again.

“ Joonie we are done shooting.”

Namjoon’s eyes pop open with a smile, cheeks turning coloured from embarrassment. “ Ah really? Im sorry it’s just that i was too into the moment.”

The both of you thank all the staff for their hard work of day. While bowing to another staff, you make sure to look directly in the eyes of the friend that tailed along with Jungkook. Just as expected he looked pissed off. The sight of him biting the inside of his jaw gave you satisfaction. He fucking deserves it.

“ Can we all eat now? I brought thermal blankets and the bonfire the staff lit is still going..’’ Jungkook says, sitting onto one of the logs and placing the bag onto the ground.

“ We need to speak first.” You say, firmness taking over your tone. You aren’t going to let this slide. Why would he bring him here? After all that happened that night, you’re sure he told Jungkook.

He sighs and motions for Namjoon to start serving while he’s going to be gone. Namjoon gently smiles and approves just before going to sit next to Jungkook’s friend and starting a conversation.

The two of you, Jungkook and you, start walking away from the small gathering slowly. The moon shines bright down upon the both of you creating black silhouettes from behind.

‘’ I didn’t invite him. You know I wouldn’t do that after that whole situation-’’

You purse your lips and stop walking, “ So he just magically came? I didn’t tell him and I doubt that Namjoon told him.’’

‘‘ He found out Namjoon was having his video shoot and came to support him. He came late due to Isab-”

You shake your head, “ Don’t say anymore. Let’s just go back and not bring anything up. I don’t feel like speaking to him or causing drama Jungkook.”

Jungkook can tell that you’re disappointed but does not say a word all the way back. You keep eye contact away from Jimin as you sit next to Jungkook. The atmosphere is awkward for you but you know it isn’t for them.

You munch on a rice-cake dumpling not making a sound as the three boys talk amongst themselves.

You take this time to think. Why would Jimin come here if he possibly knew that you were the main girl? He just set himself up to be mad at this point. Why didn’t Isabel stop him from going, after all you are his ex.

“ Why aren’t you eating?’‘

You look towards that soft voice, plopping your dumpling down into your bowl of soup. The truth is, you actually aren’t supposed to be eating this at all. Seeing as though your modeling and appearance schedule is getting full you have to maintain a healthy figure once again.

‘’ I guess im not as hungry. I’ll make sure to take it with me if I don’t finish.’’

‘‘ Eat.’‘ Jimin says, not lifting his head up but voice firm.

You roll your eyes out of annoyance, “ Im not hungry Jimin.’’ You were, but you say it just to piss him off even more.

His chopsticks drop his dumpling into his bowl as he raises his head slowly. Anger is written all over his face but you over-power it by keeping a straight face. Part of you is mad that you said that but it’s the truth.

‘‘ Oppa. Im Oppa to you.” His eyes meet yours. You can’t help but notice that his are darker than average. You hated calling him that and he knows it. It’s cringey to you, but respectful in their culture.

He didn’t use to make you say it even while in a relationship, so you know he’s playing along with your little game.

Namjoon rubs the back of his head,‘‘ Hey guys let just eat okay? Yn you should eat more.’‘

‘‘ Rather not. My appetite is no longer here.” You shrug as you place the lid onto the container of your food.

Jimin rolls his tongue in the inside of his cheek while keeping a death glare on you. You don’t bother to pay it any mind at all. Jungkook lets out a breathy sigh as you gather your belongings to leave.

‘‘ Im taking my leave.’‘

You give Namjoon a hug first then walk over to Jungkook who hugs you really tight. You smile and give a peck onto his cheek.

‘‘ Text me tonight.’ He whispers into your left ear before letting his grip go. You nod your head and glance at an angry Jimin.

“ I’ll take her home.”

That sentence makes you stop dead in your tracks. What the hell does he think he’s doing?

“ I can get a taxi..”

Jimin finishes his food and throws it into the paper brown bag. Namjoon and Jungkook stare at him in disbelief. The veins on his neck are very noticeable as he makes his way over to you.

You watch in disbelief but angry with your eyebrows furrowed because they all seem to not be listening to you. “ I said I can get a tax-”

“ Yn just go with him. I will feel safer if you went with somebody you know.” Jungkook sighs, throwing him and Namjoon’s remaining trash into the bag.

“ Me and Jungkook have a lot of catching up to do. We’ll be at my house.” Namjoon catches onto Jungkook’s memo.

You roll your eyes as Jimin grabs your arm rougher than expected, dragging you along the vacant two way street to his parked Lamborghini.

You jerk away from him not wanting to be in his grip anymore. Jimin doesn’t say anything as he opens the car door for you. You stand there with your arms crossed refusing to go.

“ Yn you have until the count of three because honestly you are pissing me off. “

Your eyes land onto his with your eyebrows still furrowed in anger.

“ 1.”

You scoff at him. What are you a toddler?

“ 2.”

Yeah right. What could hap-

“ 3 ” Jimin grabs your arm tightly making sure to leave it red as he pushes you into the passengers seat. His cheeks turn a deep shade of red. slamming the car door behind you.

He doesn’t bother to put his seat-belt on before pulling off with Namjoon and Jungkook following behind him. You wince at the throbbing pain where he had marked you red. The soreness is already settling it’s way in.

“ Look..” He sighs, “I didn’t mean to.”

Tears fill the brim of your eyes. This isn’t the same Jimin you knew. He would never even think of hurting you like that.

“ Shut up just take me home.” Your voice cracks, tears slipping down your cheek as you try and massage the pain away.

You don’t say a word to him all the way there to your apartment building. The air is as thick as a slice of home-made cake yet neither of you decide to speak. That is until he decides to follow you out the car and up to your apartment, most likely to make sure you are safe getting in. You stop at the welcome mat that holds your home just beyond the door.

“ Jimin. Leave.” You whisper, audible enough for him to hear.

“ I don’t want to.”

“ I know you’re sorry. Just leave.”

You punch in your code, the date that you and him started dating. You open it enough for just your body to slip in but that doesn’t work. Jimin pushes the door open wide, letting himself in right behind you.

You don’t say anything at all. You remove your shoes as well as he does to. Clara greets you by rubbing her body against you. You don’t bother to pet her you walk past her and into the kitchen.

Pulling out your phone, you text Jungkook letting him know you got home safely. He immediately responds with a selfie of him and Namjoon with Soju in their hands. You can’t even laugh at the two silly boys.

A harsh cold object is placed on your right arm. You quickly look down to see Jimin’s hand holding an ice-pack against the area he harmed.

“ You didn’t tell me you would be the lead girl in Namjoon’s video.”

‘‘ We aren’t together anymore. I don’t have to tell you anything.”

That’s the truth. You two shouldn’t even be in the same apartment, let alone yours, right about now. His business isn’t yours anymore. Yours isn’t his anymore.

Jimin scoffs, “ You know I will always look out for you and look after you. I’ll be there anytime for you.”

‘‘ I feel as though that’s inappropriate. You have a girlfriend don’t cheat on her like you did me.” You remove his hand and hop onto the white counter-top.

“ How many times are you going to say it huh? I was wrong I know that. But why remind me of it?”

You look him dead straight into the eyes, “ Until you suffer for a year and some months don’t say shit to me.’’

There was a silence for a couple of minutes. Your eyes wander around your fairly neat apartment until he says something again.

Jimin sighs, coming in-between your legs placing his head on your lap. ‘‘ I don’t like this.. us.”

“ Clearly you didn’t because you cheated.” You snap back, pushing his head away from you only for him to go right back. “ That’s not what I mean and you know that.” His voice is soft, just barely above a whisper.

So what does he mean?

‘‘ Im saying that.. I don’t like you being this way and distant from me. I don’t like when you kiss other people. I didn’t like when you had to make-out with Namjoon. I don’t like not being able to talk with you. I don’t like all this anger and tension between us.”

Your mind is telling you this is a red flag but your heart aches for him to go on and say what you want him to say. Could this really be it?

“ The truth is, I do miss you. I miss us. I miss everything about us. I fucked up bad and I have to pay the consequences.” His hands snake around your waist tightly.

This is it. Finally.

You bite your lip and run your fingers through his hair softly. Small sobs can be heard from him and the wetness of your leg lets you know he finally broke down.

‘‘ Jimin stop that. Don’t cry.’‘

He shakes his head, ‘’ You don’t understand. She’s not like you but I like her. My heart is with you but my mind is with her. I don’t know what to do.’’

“ You can’t love two people at once. You know that. I refuse to get hurt again by you.” You keep your voice low making sure not to get angry with him. His head lifts up showing you his red face and puffy eyes.

You can’t help but to want to kiss the tears away. So thats what you do. You kiss all over his cheeks slowly one at a time. Yes you don’t want to get hurt again, but you want him to realize that what he did is still taking a toll on you all the while you crave him and his love more and more.

‘‘ Yn..” He whimpers, sniffling.

You shake your head to hush him up and move on to his lips. His sweet, soft lips connect with yours. He opens his mouth to deepen the kiss. Both of your tongues fight for dominance making you hold your breath to stifle your groan. This is wrong. He has a girlfriend. You kissing him would make you a hypocrite, so you break away the kiss though you don’t want to.

You sigh, lifting his head up again. Those brown eyes stare back up at you full of tears and sadness. Yet you can’t be fooled by your own mind. “ Jimin go back to Isabel. She’s probably waiting for you.”

You take his arm and lead him towards the door. He slips his shoes on without taking his eyes off of you. It hurt. It hurts a lot seeing him leave out the door each time he comes over. But you still need to face the fact that this isn’t your man anymore, he’s someone elses.

“ What if I don’t want to go back.”

You unlock the door for him and hold it open. ‘’ You can’t love two people at once.’’

“ Baby, just one last time..’’ He says, referring to the kiss you’ve shared earlier.

You shake your head no. Another kiss would surely lead to something more of a messy situation. “ When you make up your mind, you know my apartment well enough.”

And with that you shut the door behind him as your back slides down the door. You bring your hands to your hair and slip them in.

Maybe, just maybe, there could be a one last time with him.

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spxllcxstxr · 4 years ago

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Being Regulus Black’s Younger Sister (Version 1 - Slytherin) • Headcanon

Warnings: body insecurity and eating mention, forced eating restrictions, canon child abuse and neglect by Walburga Black, Barty Crouch Jr makes an appearance

Request: Hey maybe you could do a regulus x younger sister headcanons or fix really whatever you want to do 💖 — @nicole198205

A.N: I honestly loved writing Black sister reader...this was so fun and if you liked it too and want like a real blurb or something based on any of these bullet points, you should request it. Hope you all enjoy and I love you all ❤️

Being the only girl in 12 Grimmauld Place means that you got treated differently than your brothers

Not nicer, by any means

Different in a way that meant your mother was constantly fussing over your appearance and making sure you acted “ladylike”

When you were little it was nice

You got to spend alone time with your mother in your room, she would brush your hair and pick out frilly and elegant dresses

Sure, sometimes she would purposefully tug a little too hard on your hair causing you to yelp, but it wasn’t a big deal

Eventually, though, your mother got rougher, these mother-daughter times turning into torturous hours where she’d make snippy comments about your weight and how you should appear to certain men

You weren’t even ten years old and she was already arranging your marriage to a man that, according to the Black Family Tapestry in the Drawing Room, was a distant relative

Sure she bought you dresses, and heels, and jewels, but they weren’t for you to enjoy and it wasn’t out of love or kindness

She needed you perfect for marriage

You always ran to Regulus’ room for comfort and he was always happy to listen to you vent

“If Bella, and Cissy, and Andy can deal with it, (Y/n), so can you. You’re just as strong as they are.”

You were always closer to Regulus, maybe because he was closer to you in age or because he wasn’t as rough or brash as Sirius

While Sirius taught you curse words, Regulus taught you prose and poetry

When Sirius went off to Hogwarts, the two of you got even closer

Your mother got worse when she found out that her eldest son was sorted into Gryffindor

She had a fit that day, one that consisted of her throwing pots and pans at the walls, shattering ancient artifacts, and tearing at her own hair

You and Regulus, frightened little children, hid in his closet waiting for your father to come home to calm her down

The two of you clutched each other tight, not daring to even make a noise, scared that you might be the next thing she breaks

You and Regulus weren’t allowed to say your brother’s name and all letters were snatched away and thrown into the fireplace

He was even banned from coming home for Christmas break

The two of you were dragged to even more family gatherings and balls

You particularly were forced to split your time between hanging out and learning from the other girls and presenting yourself to the boys

At night, you would sneak into your brother’s room, seeking comfort

You would talk about Sirius and how you can’t wait to get to Hogwarts

“Hogwarts’ll be different, (Y/n). No more screaming and family obligations...” He would smile, listening to a rogue sneakoscope whir in a drawer

“You’re forgetting something, Reg.” You’d sigh. “I’ll have to be on my own for a whole year before I can join you guys.”

“Well maybe mother will let you read my letters, and I can sneak in some of what Sirius wants to tell you.”

Sirius was different when he came back home for the summer

He wasn’t afraid to push your mother’s buttons a bit harder and he certainly wasn’t afraid to run his mouth a bit more

Sirius talked like the outside world like it was the best thing ever

And while you were curious about Hogwarts and the many different sorts of people that attended, your mother made it pretty clear pretty quick that even associating yourself with your older brother was worthy of some sort of punishment

And as much as you loved Sirius, you loved playing it safe even more

You didn’t outright ignore him, you did talk to him about Bella’s new boyfriend and the new quill your father bought you

But more often than not, you were with Regulus, enjoying the time you had left together

The night before Regulus had to leave for Hogwarts, you came crying into his room

“Don’t cry, sœur, it’ll be quite alright.” He would whisper in your ear, rocking you back and forth in his arm (sœur is sister in French)

But your etiquette lessons got harder and your mother got stricter, trying to make you a Perfect Slytherin Princess

Your mother was overjoyed when she got a letter saying how Regulus was sorted into Slytherin

She gave you a glass of wine (“Because that’s what ladies drink, (Y/n)!”) and told you that Regulus was a perfect role model

Regulus sent letters every week, detailing his classes and the people in his year

He made fast friends with a Bartimus Crouch Jr

He told you how Sirius would barely talk to him in the corridors ever since the sorting

Regulus would say a quick hello and Sirius would always reply, but the older brother never went out of his way to leave his friend group for a chat

Regulus would write paragraphs about why this could be before settling on the fact that it’s because of the house difference

Sirius only sent a few letters home and each time they were burnt to ash in front of you

So Regulus was your only outlet

You would tell him about how mother was starting to restrict your meals and starting to squeeze you into dresses far too small

He would offer you comforting words and distractions by talking about school, as it was far too difficult to actually help your situation through a letter

Regulus didn’t come home for Christmas break, claiming that exams were stressing him out, especially Herbology, so he’d rather continue his studies in a school environment

So that’s how the rest of your year goes

Regulus is...different when he gets back for the summer

It’s a very slight change, you’re pretty sure you’re the only one who notices

But it’s there

A bit more reserved, a bit more secretive

Childish wonder disappearing

He no longer publicly acts afraid of your mother

“It’s Sirius’ fault he’s got grounded, (Y/n). He broke a rule, now he’s facing the consequences.”

“But Reg, he didn’t do anything wrong—“

“(Y/n)! Are you trying to encourage the downfall of the Noble House of Black?!”

And that was it

But finally you were off to Hogwarts

Regulus lets you sit with him and Barty, who wears expensive shoes like you and Reg and had a slight tic with sticking his tongue out

But he was nice nonetheless less

Turns out, they were the outcasts of the outcasts

You were welcome to join when you are sorted into Slytherin

They were sure that you were going to be sorted there already

And you were dreading it

What if you weren’t a Slytherin and ended up like Sirius?

You could barely handle your family now, there’s no way you’d be able to take the extra shit Sirius gets

The hat gives you a choice

The worst choice possible

Gryffindor or Slytherin

You end up with a hatstall of 8 minutes, constantly looking between your brothers

And you beg to be placed in Slytherin

And so you join your brother and Barty at the table of the snakes

Sirius doesn’t look at you across the Great Hall

“Hey, Reg? Did the hat give you a choice too?”

“A choice between what?”

“Slytherin and Gryffindor.”

“Don’t tell anyone you got a choice. Listen, people in this house are brutal to people like you who get choices. Don’t mention it.”

“You didn’t answer my question—“

And he never does

You spend all of your time with Regulus and Barty, the other kids in your year are kinda major assholes

Regulus helps you with your homework, always making time for you

Meet ups in the library

Chess in the common room

Barty was usually with you as well

And that’s how it goes over the next few years

Even when Regulus is busy with his own classes and him being a seeker, he’ll make time for you

You always attend his matches, cheering him on

He’s a great seeker

In your fifth year, you notice how Reg and Barty change drastically

Pulling away from you, secret meetings, dark depictions and phrases hidden in notebooks

You get worried

For the first time ever you push your way through the Marauders to talk to your brother

“Oh, the Slytherin Princess arrives! Want us to bow?” He snarks, his friends laughing

“Piss off, Sirius! It’s about Reg.”

“What about him? Did he finally stop kissing Walburga’s arse?”

“It isn’t a laughing matter!” You’re practically in tears

And he listens to you as you explain all of your concerns and he ends up agreeing that that is worrisome

“What the hell did you tell Sirius?” Regulus shouts at you in the empty common room one night

“I’m worried, Reg! You’re going all dark, like what mother wants! This isn’t you!”

“This is me, believe it or not, (Y/n)! I’m not some puppet!” He shouts at you.

“Just wait, (Y/n), you’re next. Next year, it’ll be you. You can’t escape it.”

“Sirius got out of it.” You mumble

Regulus storms out and that’s the last real conversation you have with him and Barty for a long time

You get a letter from him when you graduate, something you have to hide away from your brother and the rest of the Order

Forgive me, sœur,

RAB

•

All Character Taglist: @aspiringsloth20 @amourtentiaa @cherie-draco

Regulus Taglist: @lunalovecroft

#regulus black #regulus black x reader #regulus black x sister!reader #regulus black headcanons #regulus black fluff #regulus black imagine #the marauders x reader

392 notes · View notes

anika-ann · 4 years ago

Text

Attached: Word Is that We Might Work It Out

Type: Modern-college-professor AU - part of Attached series

Pairing: professor!Steve Rogers x reader Word count: 6850🙈

Summary: You said yes to Professor Rogers – Steve – taking you out for ‘coffee’. Ball’s in your court – and you decide to make your move.

A date, maybe first of many, maybe not. A date with the gorgeous professor who happened to read your erotica about him. What could possibly go wrong?

Warnings: alcohol consumption, professor-student relationship and unspecified age gap, language, lots of fluff

A/N: Timeline-wise, this one-shot fits in after chapter four of Attached!!! At the end, you can find the reason behind me writing this. You can consider it one big flashback, if you will 😅 Gif by capchrisevaans.

Series masterlist | previous in timeline

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You lasted one day. One full day since the encounter in the office, since Professor Rogers admitted he would like to take you out for coffee or something similar. Since you two exchanged numbers.

It took you twenty-four hours – maybe less – to decide that so what if that might be a bad idea. It was not against the university rules and Professor Steve Rogers was a fucking specimen who also seemed to be a genuinely nice human being and if you allowed yourself to play chicken just because something only might go wrong in the future, you’d be an idiot.

Penny, your roomie, wholeheartedly agreed. She actually punched the air in victory as you were nursing a greasy lunch due to the wild-ish celebration of the end of the semester together the night prior and you just said to the void: “You know what, screw it. I’m gonna go for it.”

You didn’t even have to say what you were talking about – Professor Rogers had been the topic ever since the faithful Monday.

So you texted him that if the offer still stood, you’d like to meet up on Friday evening. Was he free?

Hey, Y/N :) Thank you for reaching out. Friday sounds great. Do you have anything specific in mind?

“Dude. He’s such a cutie. Who even texts like that?” Penny chuckled, a wide grin on her face as you couldn’t but read the text out loud.

“I texted him like that.”

“Touché. Because you want to impress mister ‘hot as fuck intellectual’ there.”

You just rolled your eyes, neither confirming nor denying. Mostly because Penny was right. But he was the first to use an emoji and… yeah, cutie indeed.

Well, I never say no to dinner and I’m down for almost anything-

“I bet you are,” Penny hummed to your ear and you swung after her blindly and thought of a better phrasing.

Well, I never say no to a dinner and I’m not picky. You choose. Seven-ish sounds good?

“Spoilsport.”

“Stop reading over my shoulder!” you chuckled and bit your lip as the answer came almost immediately.

Seven is alright. I’ll think of something to treat a girl right ;)

Your stomach made a small somersault, your face instantly radiating heat at the possible innuendo. The phone vibrated again before you could fully process the image your mind painted of him actually saying it in his gentle timbre.

Just so we’re clear, what is the nature of the dinner? It can be whatever you feel comfortable with.

Your heart leaped into your throat, hammering wildly.

That was the question, wasn’t it? Since you texted him, you made one thing clear with yourself. If you were doing this, it was going to be a date. You wouldn’t be doing things by halves.

Penny next to you made a noise that sounded as something between an aww and her gagging on nothing. “He’s disgustingly considerate for a man his age planning on going out with a girl your age.”

“He’s not that much older,” you protested instantly, frowning. He wasn’t. She knew that; you had both done your research. “And I think it’s amazing.”

You caught Penny’s smile from the corner of your eye as you typed.

“Well, it is kinda sweet. And I know he’s not, I’m messing with you. It’s just-- DON’T SEND HIM THAT!”

“Why?” you questioned, looking at her quizzically and totally clicking on send on purpose at the same time.

I’d be comfortable with a date if you are.

“It’s so lame. Of course he’s comfortable with a date, he suggested it. Duh.”

The reply came way too fast and Penny chuckled behind you as your jaw went slack.

“You know what? Don’t mind me. Good job. Keep it up,” Penny patted your shoulder as you stared at the screen where Professor Steven Grant Rogers just texted you a damn heart.

It’s a date <3

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It was a date indeed.

Steve texted you an address on Friday morning (along with an adorable good morning :) ), apologizing that he couldn’t pick you up, making sure you’d be alright getting there on your own. You found it absolutely sweet, considerate and smart. You suspected that his ‘inability’ to pick you up had something to do with the fact that you lived at the dorms and if he showed up there, it would be trending in the university chit-chat room within five minutes.

You spent a better part of the Friday afternoon researching the place and the weather forecast so you could dress accordingly and getting ready.

You were not ready for a date with Steve Rogers however; your nerves were a mess and nothing could ever prepare you for when he showed up perfectly on time in front of the restaurant---- wearing a suit no less.

How were you supposed to function when he was wearing such elegant clothing, a suit he filled up so fucking well?! And he looked just as breath-taking as always, stupidly perfect beard and slightly tousled hair you just wanted to run your fingers through and his smile was so gorgeous and--- Jesus Fucking Christ, the suit- how could you even put words together when looking at him-

��Wow, I feel so underdressed now.”

Clearly, you could speak just fine, only you lost your brain-to-mouth filter. Also, your mouth might have started watering and your heart was pounding like crazy. You would not survive tonight.

But, you also had a point. The restaurant was supposed to be a nice place, but relatively plain. And he showed up in amazingly fitting dress pants, white shirt, a tie and a suit jacket. So yes, you did feel underdressed.

“Oh no, no! You’re not,” he rushed to reassure you, eyeing your semi-leisure white dress with burgundy flowers with an attentive gaze that had you shifting your weight nervously. “I’m overdressed if anything. Sticking out like a sore thumb, I’m sorry.”

You could always just strip the suit jacket, was your first thought, but luckily for you, this time you managed to contain the words before they got out to the open.

“You’re fine,” you said instead, not knowing how else to react; needless to say you were grateful for the smile he gave you despite the double meaning.

Yes, he was fine indeed. Always. It was unfair, really.

“Thanks. You too. In fact, you look beautiful.”

Your heart stopped in your chest, your mind suddenly racing a mile per minute.

It was ridiculous. It was just a word. But for one, it was spoken so kindly and genuinely you couldn’t but think he meant it, for two, it was Professor Steve Rogers who told you that and--- beautiful.

You couldn’t remember a guy ever calling you beautiful.

Cute? Sure. Pretty? Maybe. Hot? Might have happened once or twice . But beautiful?

You might actually swoon.

And you were so lost in your head that you couldn’t but silently stare at the lethally handsome man in front of you and then it again registered in your brain that this was your fucking crush speaking to you and he was on a date with you and he had read your erotica, one that was about him no less-

Your face was set aflame in an instant and you… you couldn’t let out a word.

“It everything okay? Did I… did I say something wrong?” Steve asked hesitantly, a concerned wrinkle appearing between his brows and it reminded you of all the times you had seen him wearing such thoughtful expression in the two classes he taught instead of Professor Barnes and-

You were screwed.

Tonight was going to be a disaster.

“No, uhm, no, sorry--- maybe we should go inside or-“ you muttered, lightly gesturing towards the door and could you get any more awkward?

“Yeah, sure, sounds good.”

He let you walk in first like a real gentleman, the lightest skim of his fingers on your lower back, which caused your heartbeat to skyrocket; and only when the hostess seated you, you realized you never accepted his kind compliment.

It was too late for that now, you assumed, so you sipped at the still water which waited at each table, and repeated like a mantra to yourself that you needed to get your shit together otherwise you’d ruin your shot before the night even started.

But clearly, you succeeded at that already.

Whatever awkward aura you had around yourself, it seemed to extend now to him too – he shifted slightly in his seat (he had pulled out your chair for you before, because of course he had), his shoulders stiff. Despite that, he smiled at you over the menu.

“So… all exams worked out? Enjoying the freedom?” he asked casually.

“Oh, yes. Yeah.”

“Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” you uttered with a forced smile, your stomach twisted unpleasantly.

For some reason, you felt like you were having a lame attempt at small talk with a professor, which you were, but it wasn’t supposed to be like that.

Not tonight. Not on a date.

What were you even doing here? What were you playing at? Professor Steve Rogers was entirely out of your league, gorgeous, funny, kind and smart and here you were, barely making conversation.

It was pathetic really. It was embarrassing for both of you.

“You up to anything fun?” he queried, the question less enthusiastic than the one before. He was already growing tired of making your uncooperative brain work at least a bit, it was obvious.

Your gulped as the memory of last night popped in your head – staying in, quiet evening, in a mood for some dirty writing--- oh bless, another reminder of why this dinner was and should be really weird.

Steve read your smutty story. The one about him.

“Nothing special,” you squealed silently, earning a plain nod. “Eh, we went out with Penny, my roommate and best friend in one person. But mostly I just stayed in and--- caught up on sleeping.”

“I know what that’s like,” Steve hummed, clearly as grateful as you were when the waiter appeared by your table to take your orders.

Silence stretched as the man left, your hand beginning to fiddle with the neatly folded napkin on the table, lump growing in your throat due to your nerves.

“What about you? Anything… fun?” you asked reluctantly, noticing a brief smile passing Steve’s lips. Pretty, sinfully pretty lips. Perfect. Untouchable for mere mortals like you.

“Oh, not much. Few exam sittings, faculty meetings – we had one now, hence the suit-“

“You came here right from school?” you blurted out, startled – and clearly surprising him with your rudeness. “Sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it. Yes, I did. We have a meeting every last Friday of the month.”

“Oh my god, you must be so tired,” you sympathized with him quietly, the uneasy feeling in your stomach only growing. He came here straight from work and for this? “Why didn’t you say something? We could have postponed or something.”

Steve swiftly shook his head, his warm hand landing on yours, gently stopping your restless fingers. This time, it was butterflies in your stomach erupting with life, the sweet comforting gesture warming your heart. He wanted to be here. He came here for you. He was interested in you.

And the feeling was mutual. So why was it being so weird then?

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m glad you reached out. I’m glad that you said yes in the first place,” he admitted, features softening despite the tension in his shoulders never leaving. His brows furrowed as he slowly withdrew his hand – it must have been an automatic reaction then. “I’m not that tired and… and maybe I was little worried that if I asked for a different date, then…”

He trailed off and your lips parted in surprise, your heart swelling in your chest at what he was implying.

Did he think you’d back out? Did he think that all the potential obstacles intimidated you too much? That you’d think it wasn’t worth it? That it wouldn’t work out anyway?

Seeing as you were now, you couldn’t blame him. Despite him being the world’s most charming man, here you were, being… not at all yourself, stressing for no reason.

It seemed to you that had had chemistry, back there in his office. This date made sense. When you imagined how this could unfold, well, it went a bit differently too. There was considerably less embarrassment going around.

This was why you preferred writing to speaking. That’s why you liked daydreaming. Because reality was often less than ideal, no script, awkward silences, misunderstandings…

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, your voice barely audible as your food arrived.

You both thanked the waiter politely and you hoped that at least now you’d have a good excuse for the lack of normal conversation.

“What are you sorry for?”

You sighed and nibbled on your lower lip, not missing the way his gaze instinctively flickered there, pupils dilating just a fraction – but enough for you to notice. Your heart skipped a pleased beat – but the undeniable physical attraction couldn’t be enough.

“For this,” you said, gesturing vaguely between the two of you. His features twisted in disappointment and something that looked a lot like regret flashed in his eyes. “I want to be here, Steve. I really do. I don’t know what’s wrong with me-“

“There’s absolutely nothing wrong with you,” he was quick to oppose and you couldn’t help it as a wry chuckle escaped you.

“Well, there’s certainly nothing wrong with you. And still, there’s this…”

“…tension?”

You wished.

“Sort of? But not the fun kind, for sure.”

He grimaced, but a spark of amusement lit up his blue irises. “Awkward air around us?”

“Yes!” you exclaimed victoriously as he voiced exactly what you were thinking. Then you quickly lowered your voice, looking around. Luckily, no one stared at you. You realized you leaned closer to him over the table, your heart racing at that, but you didn’t withdraw; it was a lovely opportunity to get even a better look at his perfect face. “But I don’t know why!” You knew why. “I like you, Steve-“

“I like you too. And I know I already said that, but you look stunning.”

Your cheeks burned again, but this time, you managed to stutter out a thank you at least. Stunning, Jesus, was he for real?

“T-thank you. You look incredibly handsome too. Then again you always do—why did I say that.”

One corner of his lips quirked up.

“Why thank you, I’m glad you did. The feeling’s mutual, believe me.”

“Then why does this feel like one of the most awkward dates I’ve ever been to?!” you whisper-yelled, causing him to chuckle, the tips of his ears turning red.

His hand once again landed on yours, this time deliberately, the gesture warming you in more than one way.

“Well… I’m nervous. You might be too.” You hummed in agreement. Was that all it was? “But the way you said it, at least it seems to me that it could have been worse, right? More awkward?”

You felt the corners of your lips rise at the remark, shrugging. He had a point there. And he squeezed your hand a bit and good Lord, it should not be making your heart race so much, but he was touching you and he was being really sweet and his fingers were nice and warm and long-

“Tell me.”

You blinked in surprise, realizing you had been staring at your joined hands. You raised your gaze, finding him watching you with a subtle smile.

“Tell you what?”

“Tell me about the most awkward date you have ever been to,” he clarified, his thumb caressing your wrist.

You only hesitated for a beat before you nodded in agreement, god knew why. Perhaps you did need a reminder that this could have gone much more disastrously and it was mostly your traitorous brain telling you that you were messing everything up.

Plus, Steve deserved whatever he wanted – so far, he was the only reason this date wasn’t as disastrous as it could be.

“Okay. You ever been to a speed dating event, Steve? Because I have.”

“Oh, this is ought to be good,” he noted with another squeeze to your hand, before he released you. Shame. He sipped at his wine and dug into his pasta. “I’m all ears.”

This is ought to be good, Steve said. Well, maybe. You certainly hadn’t thought so at the time.

Explaining to Steve that as you had been under duress from no other than Penny, you both went to the event which promised you meeting ten dashing men in only an hour. You’d get five minutes with each, as anonymous as you’d wished to be, receiving a folder with nothing but a table with the first names of the men and a yes and no option and a line for your own notes about them.

You weren’t sure what to think of it – but after three epically failed Tinder attempts, you agreed to try. If nothing else, you’d gain a new experience.

And an experience had it been. You even lasted a month with one of the guys, but you didn’t tell Steve that. It wasn’t important.

André was.

André Whatever-was-his-last-name – because that was how it worked, no last names – definitely believed he was important. With the guys moving around the tables from one woman to another, spending five minutes with each, you could already hear André closing to your station from two tables over.

He was hard to tune out, courtesy of the colour of his voice, extremely unpleasant to your ears, and him never letting the woman he faced talk. Always interrupting. Always turning the conversation around so it would be about him.

Asshole.

You liked to think you weren’t quick to judge people, but André was making you cringe before you were even introduced. And then you actually were.

A minute into his monologue to you, you felt like you were being tortured.

And then the waitress managed to stumble and spill a glass of white wine �� partly over your table, but mostly on the floor. At least she caught the glass and you had but a tiny spot on your dress.

“She was apologizing so profusely and I wasn’t thinking, okay. I went for the napkins few tables over to help and— I didn’t realize I put the open folder down for everyone to see,” you explained, feeling like face-palming when you remembered the night.

Steve watched you in anticipation, a small smirk and a knowing look on his face as he guessed you had already circled ‘no’ for André at the time.

Oh, you wished it were that simple. You felt your cheeks burn hot as you continued.

“André read it, of course. Obviously, he already got a hard ‘no’ from me, but… I might have written a tiny note for myself as to why,” you admitted and Steve’s eyebrow rose minutely, his curiosity piqued even more.

You took a deep breath.

“I wasn’t exactly kind to him. It was something along the lines of self-important asshole who probably compensated for something.” Steve huffed in amusement. But oh, if he only knew... you sighed and continued. “And If Draco Malfoy and Gilderoy Lockhart had a love child, this would be him.”

No sound came from your companion this time and your teeth anxiously sank into our lower lip, your pulse wavering. What was Steve thinking? Did he think you had been rude? Mean even? Nerdy? All of the above?

He stared at you for full three seconds, clearly rendered speechless by your harsh judgement.

And then he burst out laughing.

Suffocating weight fell from your shoulders and you silently joined him as you explained yourself.

“I was in my Harry Potter phase! And in my defence, I think it was actually pretty accurate...”

“Oh, I don’t doubt that, sweetheart,” Steve chuckled lightly before laughing some more, irises twinkling with amusement and something… softer.

You shuddered upon hearing the endearment spill unwittingly from his lips, upon seeing the emotion on his face. And maybe you were a little proud of yourself for making him laugh and lose the tension in his shoulders completely.

“It was one of the longest and most awkward three minutes of my life, the silence that followed,” you huffed, massaging your forehead. “He did not appreciate the comparison.”

“I bet,” Steve cackled, taking another bite of his meal, smile playing in the corner of his lips as he swallowed and continued. “But you’ve got to give it to him, he knew his Harry Potter characters.”

“Ha! My thoughts exactly. But that’s a little bit of weak base for dating, I think, especially since I kinda already hated him.”

“Oh, you did? I didn’t catch that,” Steve joked lightly, causing you to smile despite the horrid memory.

And funnily enough, telling him and remembering it… it did make you feel better and more at ease with him.

“Ha ha ha, laugh it up, Professor. Your turn.”

“I’m sorry?” he said, clearly puzzled. It didn’t escape your notice as his voice faltered, his Adam’s apple bobbing at the addressing.

Oh, so that’ s still a thing. You couldn’t but smirk a bit at that.

“An awkward date. You have to share now, it’s only fair,” you shrugged, only for a terrible realization to dawn on you. “Please tell me there is at least one awkward date story, Steve. Tell me this isn’t really your worst date ever.”

He shook his head with a soft chuckle.

“Oh, there’s plenty. I’m just trying to think about one that won’t scare you away from me. I’d hate that.”

One corner of his lips raised, he looked you up and down, lingering on your lips for a bit before meeting your gaze, something you could only hope was fondness and wanton in his eyes. Your breath hitched, heat pooling in your abdomen at the thorough onceover despite the gentle tone of his voice.

Fuck how could he make you feel hot and soft at the same time.

Unable to stand the intensity of his stare, you lowered your gaze and gulped, your stomach making an excited slip. He did want you. You had been being silly, letting your nerves get the better of you.

Clearing your throat, you willed yourself to look up, finding him still watching closely – and perhaps, there was a hint of a red to his cheeks, the tip of his ears burning as if despite the blatant flirting, he was unsure of himself too, because he didn’t want to mess up with you either.

You found it absolutely endearing and your heart swelled. The way you got to see there was more to him than his professor side and his dashing looks… you felt incredibly lucky. The more you got to interact with him, the more it wasn’t just your sinful thoughts belonging to him – he was quickly working on stealing your heart as well.

Plucking up your courage, you were the one to reach out this time, carefully sweeping your thumb over the back of his hand, smiling.

“I’m not scared off all that easily, Steve.”

He mirrored your genuine smile, a glint of something you couldn’t read lighting up his eyes.

“That’s good to know,” he said lowly and sighed, narrowing his eyes as if he was assessing you again. “Alright, here goes…”

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You actually managed to get one more awkward date story from Steve, because frankly, his experiences were hilarious. And surprise surprise, he was a great narrator. Plus, while he talked, you could ogle him shamelessly without fear of looking strange.

But you guessed that since you were on a date, you could ogle him anyway. He didn’t seem to mind; in fact, whenever he got the opportunity, he reciprocated it. It finally did feel like a date, the air growing thicker as you gradually shifted closer and closer, the light touches prolonging, feet meeting under the table without parting as soon as they made contact.

Your belly kept warming up with each smile and laugh, with every second of the intense eye contact, with every flicker of his gaze to your lips and vice versa. Sharing a dessert was a terrible idea, because you wanted kiss the crumbs sticking on his lips away. You teased each other, you complimented each other – with Steve absolutely winning the undeclared contest – and you realized that despite sharing your most embarrassing dates with each other at the beginning, this was the absolute best you had ever been to.

And you didn’t want it to end.

The light sweater you had brought with you did nothing to shield you from the surprisingly lukewarm wind. As you wandered the streets, Steve finally heard out one of your first thoughts you had had when meeting him today – he shrugged off his suit jacket.

Which… yum. The seams of his shirt were crying for help and you could only think fo one way of helping them – taking his shirt off too. But alas, Steve didn’t continue the striptease, probably because you were on the street. Instead, he did the most wholesome thing and held out the jacket for you to slip into.

You only hesitated a moment, teeth sinking into your lower lip. How could you say no to that?

“That’s awfully cliché and really sweet at the same time,” you muttered, causing him to shrug, one corner of his lips raised in a smirk as he helped you put it on, forefinger most definitely deliberately caressing the side of your throat before withdrawing.

A shudder ran down your spine, electrifying feeling going straight to your core. The whiff of whatever cologne he was wearing enveloped you, clouding your senses. Goddammit he smelled so good.

“Maybe I just want to see you in my clothes,” he hummed, the suggestive remark knocking the breath straight out of your lungs.

Stepping to your side from behind your back, you caught a glimpse of his expression – a little bit smug, a little bit panicked as it probably registered with him just how much suggestive it was, perhaps crossing a line.

It was absolutely not crossing the line, because the thought of wearing his clothes, preferably grabbing it because you couldn’t find yours after you threw it all around the room as you frantically stripped each other was making your head spin in the best way.

“Maybe I’d really enjoy wearing your clothes after you rip off mine.”

Steve’s jaw went slack, a choked noise leaving him and you couldn’t but laugh at his dumbstruck expression. Surprise, professor, you little shit. I can keep up.

“That was… mean,” he said, clearing his throat. Your eyebrows rose, pot calling the kettle back style. “But I see how I deserved that.”

“Damn right… but that doesn’t mean it’s a lie,” you shrugged, chuckling at the exasperated look he shot you.

‘Man, she’s gonna fuck you up on a whole new level and I’ll be here for it in the front row with a bowl of popcorn,’ Barnes’ words to Steve which you weren’t meant to hear echoed in your head, making you grin.

The teasing was intense, yet you felt comfortable in it. You blamed Steve and his nature – he already felt like a guy to go lengths to make you feel at ease enough; the way he had kept insisting on you choosing whether this was a date or not only proved it. He made it easy to be yourself, making you feel like you could.

And he made it perfectly clear that he was enjoying seeing you like that, that he appreciated you as you were.

But the closer you got to the campus, the more the reality was settling in, your laughter fading, butterflies and heat replaced by anxiety. He was still a professor. If you went for it, it wouldn’t always be uncomplicated like this. The awkwardness crept in as your steps grew slower, the inevitable arriving.

He couldn’t walk you home, to walk you to the dorm, even if the desire to do so radiated from every fibre of his being. He couldn’t do that for the same reason he hadn’t picked you up.

You came to a stop, feeling like there was this invisible border to a safe, students-free part of the city, the line you couldn’t cross side by side.

“So, uhm… this is it, huh?” Steve hummed, grim. You appreciated the lame attempt at a smile though and reciprocated, turning to face him.

“Looks like it.”

Heavy silence settled over you pair. Your eyes trailed all over him, lingering on his face, noting as he did the same. He was beautiful; you didn’t care you should say that about a man. He was. The light in his eyes dimmed compared to that just a few moments ago, but it was still there, expression soft, almost as soft as his beard looked, causing your fingers to twitch in need to run them over it and pull him in for a kiss.

Your lips tingled as the idea. You had never kissed a man with a beard and you wanted to know how it felt. The fact it was Steve only sealed the deal and made the need grow exponentially.

You wanted to kiss him so bad. But here you stood, unable to move, unable to speak. You sighed.

“Would you-“ “I want to-“

“Sorry,” you and him said at the same time again, laughing it off quietly, your fingers running through your hair.

Your stomach clenched when you noticed his eyes following the movement almost wistfully.

“You go first,” he prompted you gently.

You didn’t argue – if you learned one thing tonight, it was that Steve was a gentleman and that was so rare these days that you wouldn’t want to discourage him from being that way. Even if you really wanted to know what he was about to say, as soon as possible.

“I… I just want to say thank you. For the… for the date. I had a good time, so I hope you had too, at least a little,” you offered lamely, feeling blood rushing to your cheeks.

Like a schoolgirl blushing in front of her professor. Jesus, why were you being like this again.

Steve didn’t seem to find you as awkward as you felt however, your name slipping from his lips, kind and soft.

“I had a very good time. You’re amazing.” Your lips parted at the blatant and genuine compliment. His eyes went wide. “I’m sorry, that came out so strong, I didn’t mean to put you in spot like that-“

Stronger than ‘maybe I just want to see you in my clothes?’ you asked yourself. No, you didn’t think so. It was just that the playfulness had left at least two blocks back.

This felt more serious. More intimate.

“Ditto,” you whispered, gracing him with a shy smile he instantly mirrored. “But hey, I already knew that, so…”

He chuckled, shaking his head lightly, his smile only growing. When he looked at you again, his eyes were the beautiful warm blue that made you weak in the knees.

“Would you like to do something like that again?” he queried lowly.

Yes. YES. YES PLEASE. Minus the awkwardness at the beginning and the one a moment ago, preferably.

“Yeah. I’d like that,” you agreed simply, taking note of how his face lit up even more.

How could a man be so indescribably hot and yet adorable enough to tug at your heartstrings?

“Good. I’m glad.”

He tugged at your hand unexpectedly, pulling you to your left, his other hand steadying you by gently grasping your forearm.

Before you could question his actions, a pair of men swaying in a drunken haze passed you, having no care in the world for whom they might crash into.

“Thanks,” blurted out lowly, sparing a second to shoot their backs a dirty glare.

But Steve’s hands were still on you, distracting, as you stood face to face, chest to chest, a little too close, a little too far. Your heart sped up in your ribcage, breathing picking up in anticipation. So close…

But all Steve did was to squeeze your forearm reassuringly, lifting your joined hands to his face.

Just like the day you agreed to get coffee with him, he kissed your knuckles, only this time it was much firmer. His smile was sweet and utterly irresistible as he kept looking at your face and you felt all the worries about the future melt away once again.

He was so precious and this felt so right and--- you didn’t want him to kiss your hand.

Well, you wanted it, but you wanted more too.

You had been aching to kiss that mouth since you had first set eyes on him, on that inhumanly gorgeous and hot creature. You were on a date, you both had a great time and clearly he was giving you the opportunity to decide how far you wanted to take this, because as much as every little touch of his made to crazy, the displays of affection were positively chaste.

And you wanted to take it very very far.

Your rational brain wouldn’t let you just hop into sac with him today, but fuck, you could do with a kiss. You wanted to feel that perfectly trimmed beard of his and you wanted to taste him.

Did he?

You stepped even closer as he let go of your hand, distracting you minutely; due to the sudden proximity, it landed on his chest and Jesus fucking Christ he was firm.

Your fingers clutched at the white fabric of his shirt as you observed his face, your gaze inevitably flickering to his lips. Glancing up once more to find him still watching you intently, pupils dilated, your breath caught in your throat, heat stirring in your belly.

Rising to your tiptoes, you gripped the fabric tighter and shortly pressed your lips to his.

It was a funny feeling – lips hot, soft and slightly chapped, a stark contrast to the beard, less rough than you expected, leaving a tingly sensation behind. It was different; exciting and addicting. Before he could react and before you could think twice, you kissed him again, this time lingering for a few seconds, your eyelids falling shut.

Your heart fluttered when you felt his lips reluctantly respond just as you withdrew, his grip on your arm tightening. You ran your tongue over your lips to savour the feeling, mouth instinctively curling up in a smile, gaze meeting his.

Little wrinkles appeared around his eyes as he smiled as well.

“You okay?”

You nodded, almost too eagerly, lowering back to your whole feet. Involuntarily, your gaze flickered to his mouth again, wanting more.

“Uhm… beard,” you piped up unhelpfully, pressing your lips together as soon as the admission left them.

Steve’s smile widened as he once again grasped your hand, leading it to cup his face – not before he dropped a kiss to your palm.

You almost let out a very embarrassing whine at the curious sensation, your mind, still enveloped in Steve’s warmth and cologne, wondering how the beard would feel elsewhere.

Your fingers unwittingly caressed the hair, thumb brushing his lips, unable to resist.

His Adam’s apple bobbed, lips parting, hot breath fanning over your skin as watched you.

“Sweetheart,” he breathed out and that was it – you pressed against the soft swollen flesh at the pet name, causing a low grumble echo in Steve’s chest.

And then his hand slid to your waist, the other sinking into your hair, and he pulled up into a kiss that had nothing to do with how patient he had been before. He was still a gentleman, but it was a close call – he angled your head to his liking, his lips dancing with yours in a sensual dance with just a tease of tongue licking at the seam of your lips, causing you to sigh in bliss, granting him access.

He hummed appreciatively, the sound shaking your bones as he held you flat against him, the heat of his body seeping into yours – as if every nerve ending in your body wasn’t on fire already. He breathed you in, consumed you entirely – there were no other words for it.

There weren’t many words you could think of to begin with, too busy feeling his broad shoulders under your palm, fingers roaming to find the soft hair at his nape, revelling at the taste of him, just a smidge of tongue and you wanted more, your insides twisting in need--- and oh, your back was pressed against a wall now.

You let out a small startled sound which Steve instantly swallowed – but it was a good wake up call for you both. The motions of his lips slowed, softened, a gentle caress more than anything, his thumb stroking your cheek.

Breathless, you chased after his mouth when he retreated, earning one small peck and then another. He rested his forehead against yours, nose briefly skimming yours, causing you to smile and meet his gaze.

“Sorry,” he muttered and you genuinely wanted to slap his arm or something for apologizing for that. Because you knew what you’d be thinking about for the next few hours, days even, hell, probably weeks. “For springing out like that. I just… wanted to do that for a long time.”

The admission had your heart skip a beat and you couldn’t but lean in to kiss the corner of his mouth – and nope, you weren’t over how it felt, his beard against your lips. You wouldn’t be over it for a long time, you suspected.

“Me too.”

“So… we’re doing this again, right?“

You smirked up at him as he reluctantly released you. “You springing out like that or-“

“Don’t test me, babygirl,” he nearly growled, causing your eyes going wide as saucers, feeling as if you were sucker punched to your gut – and liked it.

Babygirl. Jesus, he was going to be the death of you.

“You can spring out like that again too,” you chimed, your voice sounding a bit strangled, because holy shit he just called you that. His gaze flickered all over your face, a shade darker than before. Your underwear was thoroughly ruined with that single look… and the earlier make-out session. “But if we’re talking second dates, I’d definitely do that too.”

He huffed and shook his head, a chuckle escaping him.

“You’re a minx…. I think I like it.”

You grinned at him and then sighed regretfully, reaching to slip off the jacket, which made him frown.

“You could give it back later.”

“Don’t tempt me… don’t want to rob you of it--- and there would be questions,” you explained, knowing that even walking around the campus like what would raise rumours of god knew what.

Like, maybe someone would think some gentleman like Professor Steve Rogers himself lent it to you or something, gee, where would that come from...

Steve nodded in understanding, accepting the jacket and shrugging it on.

“Plus, I’m thoroughly warmed up,” you added cheekily, causing him to chuckle incredulously again. With a sigh, he leaned in, cradling your jaw in one large hand and pressed a sweet lingering kiss to your forehead.

You could melt on spot.

“Goodnight, sweetheart. Let me know when you get home safe?” he asked of you gently, tugging at your heartstrings some more, because of course he did.

“I will. You too?”

His smile was soft and sweet as he promised to do so, clearly touched by your care. Well, that made two of you.

“Goodnight, Steve. Thank you for tonight.”

“Thank you.”

You breathed in deeply, dropping a last kiss to his cheek and quickly spun on your heels to walk away – because if you wavered a second longer, you might have not left at all.

Sure, you looked back at him several times, finding him standing where you had left him, his eyes following your receding figure. But you kept walking.

And once you couldn’t see him anymore, you broke into a fit of giggles, hiding your face in your palms to muffle your delighted squeal.

You were just coming back to the dorms from the date with Steve Rogers.

And despite the hiccups, it was the best damn thing in the world, leaving you giddy and already craving another date and more. Your cheeks hurt from smiling by the time you made it to the dorms, your heart pounding excitedly the whole time.

As promised, you let Steve know you made there safe, earning another text with a heart. It only made you squeal again, fingers frantic as you replied – and with a kiss for goodnight so he knew you truly enjoyed your night, ending included.

What he didn’t know was that maybe, just maybe, the next evening you wrote a tiny story in which you elaborated at what could happen if he ever pushed you against a wall and kissed your breathless ever again.

And hopefully, he would.

Soon.

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

Attached masterlist

⊱-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦ ✉ ◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-◦-⊰

...how it happened? I was asked about the first date, very kindly and in a no pressure manner.

S: Hey, just out of curiosity, you don’t really have to answer… how do you imagine their first date went?

me: Hm, let me think, I guess, mm, it would be like this--- oh shit. Oh no. It’s gonna be a fic again, isn’t it? Maybe I could finally write a headcanon or a drabble--- sigh.

As if I could ever.

Thank you for reading :-*

#fanfiction #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #professor steve rogers #steve rogers imagine #captain america au #modern au #professor au #college au #steve rogers #captain america #student reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers fanfic #word is that we might work it out #attached #attached: word is that we might work it out #anika ann

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smellsfaintlyofvanilla · 4 years ago

Note

Hi, I have this super specific idea so feel free to ignore this one lol. So basically, Annie and the reader have been dating for a while, like at least a year. And the reader is in the survey corps right, so during one of the missions she ends up getting injured in an explosion and she's like all burned up and covered in injury's that'll scar really bad. And so the reader gets taken to a hospital or med bay or whatever, and she's been out for days, and like Reiner, Eren, Mikasa, etc. are all there, ya know her little gaggle of friends. And like she's been unconscious for days but sometimes she'll wake up for a few minutes and pass out again. So when Annie gets the news and comes to see her she like starts to wake up, and when she's coherent Annie is holding her hand and says "I'm glad you're alive" or something, then the reader just kinda stares at her for a minute and says "are you one of my friends from the cadet corps" and everyone's shocked and Annie kinda runs off. And ass the reader gets better she's allowed to walk around town and shit as long as someone's with her because she he's trouble walking, and she like can't hold things in one of her hands without shaking like she's about to fall apart. She basically hos no memories of absolutely anything so if someone says that their friends she just believes them and wants to be with them, which is a contrast to how she was in the cadets because she was always super short tempered and would pick fights with everyone, but she always had a soft spot for Annie and would follow her around and shit while being an ass to everyone else. So now she has no memories, blind as shit, can barely walk, and is super kind and polite to just about everyone. And like she insists on Annie seeing her and wants to go with her wherever she goes and is all smiles and happiness while Annie is kinda having a crisis. Because they were both very closed off people and they opened up to each other and built unwavering trust and loyalty but now one of them doesn't remember, Annie wants to help her but at the same time she feels that it's for the best if they stay apart, uh spoiler they don't stay apart it's just gonna take time. I'm really sorry this was so long dude. Also please tell me this made sense I haven't stopped think about this for days

I- It’s a little confusing but I think I get it.

Let me know if I get anything wrong!

I also included a lot of platonic AruAni because it’s cute.

Unbearable

(Annie Leonhart x Reader)

AU: Canon

Warnings: Implied season 3 spoilers

Category: Both angst and fluff (somehow)

Summary: After getting seriously injured in a mission, Annie’s s/o doesn’t recognize anyone, and is left very weak. Still, Annie and her S/O stick together through the recovery.

Words: 5.5K

It’d gone wrong. It’d all gone horribly wrong.

A freak accident—only preventable by, perhaps, closer gear inspection, but it was far too late for that. The damage had been done.

The most recent Survey Corps mission was just concluding, and you managed to call yourself one of the lucky ones who survived this far. Erwin led the charge back to the walls at full speed, having completed the objective by the skin of his teeth, but an abnormal titan was tagging dangerously close behind.

The towering beast approached closer and closer, until it kicked the horse you were on, sending you and it abruptly flying through the air and away from the Scouts.

It took you a minute to regain your senses and realize the gravity of your situation. Your horse lay dying 40 feet away from you. Clearly, it would be of no help. The abnormal lurched towards you unnaturally, and your eyes widened in fear.

A quick movement of your upper body caused a jolt of pain to shoot up your chest, and you were positive you must’ve broke a few ribs when you collided with the dirt.

Still, you had limited time before the monster reached you, and you weren’t about to die that easily. You bore the pain in your chest as you stood up straight, beads of cold sweat rolling down your face as you surveyed your situation to find the easiest way out.

You were too far from your horse, and the rest of the Scout formation, and you were in no shape to run. Your head turned towards the walls, and an idea popped into your mind—you were going to scale the wall.

You broke into a quick sprint before you shot your ODM gear into the wall, flying towards it at lightning speed. Your back took the brunt of the impact, and you groaned in pain.

Still, it seems as if the abnormal wasn’t going to let you get a moment’s rest, as it caught up to you and tried to jump and grab you, but narrowly missed your boot. The rush of adrenaline kicked your body into gear as you shot the grapple of your ODM gear onto the ledge of the wall and hauled yourself up, a garrison soldier helping you before turning to man one of the cannons.

You stood up triumphantly on the wall, the titan below you still trying in vain to reach you. You could hear the distant shouting of a commander—and what you could out assume was the foreboding shout, “FIRE!!!”

And that’s where everything went wrong.

The cannon, no more than three feet to your right, exploded into a supernova of sparks and flames, and the last thing you saw was fire as blinding pain shot through your body.

And then it all went black.

---

“Ma’am, I’m sorry, but only family members are allowed to see her at the moment, you’re going to have to wait until she’s discharged.” The poor receptionist sighed, staring up at the distressed woman in front of her.

“I don’t care if ‘only family is allowed’! I’m her girlfriend, I should be allowed to see her!” Annie shouted, dressed in a simple white hoodie and grey pants. An outfit too casual for her to wear outside in most occasions, but when she heard the news of your admission to the hospital, she didn’t care to change.

“I’m sorry, there’s really nothing I can do-”

Annie leaned in closer, grabbing the receptionist by the collar of her shirt and pulling her in, a dangerous look gracing her face. Her voice came out in a threatening growl.

“Look, I’m a part of the military police, so if anyone asks, I’m just her older sister,” She glared daggers the woman, who shook like a leaf at the intimidation, “Got it?”

The woman nodded urgently, sweating bullets at this point, and Annie was thankful the intimidation had worked. “R-Room 302...”

She didn’t bother letting out a response as she ran to the wing of the hospital you were in. She didn’t know quite where the room was, but she would find out soon enough.

After a painful few minutes of searching, her eyes found the plate outside of a closed wooden door, the number reading “302″.

She walked up to it, and took a deep breath in before twisting the doorknob and pushing her way into the room, but her eyes widened in surprise and she gasped at the sight.

She knew it was bad—after all, nothing good ever came out of being so close to an explosion like that—but she couldn’t have been prepared for what she saw.

You were laid down on the bed, clearly unconscious, and sweltering burns covered at least 60% of your body, especially your right side. Many limbs were elevated and covered in taunting white casting, and you let out shallowed, labored breaths.

She mentally cursed the primitive healthcare the Eldians seemed to have, and the lack of a doctor in the room. She was no professional, but you definitely didn’t look to be in a state to be alone.

She though you were alone, that is, until her rationality returned to her and she noticed many figures in the room, though none bore the staff uniform.

They seemed to notice her before long, and a few stared at her quietly with pity in their eyes. She scanned the faces that surrounded her; Eren, Mikasa, Armin, Sasha, Connie, and Reiner were all present in the room.

“What in...” Her voice came out short in her throat; the words were just as powerless as she was, “What in God’s name happened to her...” It was hushed, almost husky, and it sounded like she was about to cry. Maybe she was, but she didn’t notice.

Mikasa seemed to be the first one to speak up through the heavy silence, stepping forward to grab Annie’s attention.

“It was on the recent scouting mission yesterday. She narrowly escape a titan by climbing over the wall, but one of the Garrison’s cannons blew up.” Mikasa looked to the side, clearly troubled by the situation as well. “Of the four people caught up in the explosion, she’s the only one still alive.”

Annie didn’t process quite what Mikasa had said at first, her mind was more focused on a pressing question that suddenly arose in her mind.

“The only one still alive?” She echoed. “Why did you phrase it like that?”

Mikasa sighed, covering her mouth with her scarf—something she often did when she was troubled. “Well, the doctor is doing all he can at the moment, but she’s been drifting in and out of consciousness nonstop for the past hour. Even when she is awake, we can’t seem to get a coherent response out of her.”

She froze.

Her eyes moved back to your battered form. She hadn’t taken in exactly how bad it was until now. Shattered bones, burnt skin, compromised organs—you were nearly unrecognizable. Not in the way that you were scarred beyond recognition, but in the way that she never imagined to see you in such a state. You looked like you had, quite literally, went through hell and back.

She let out a pained sigh, slinking down in a chair next to the bed and staring at the floor in defeat. She reached out and grabbed your limp hand at your side, running her thumb delicately over your burnt hand, as if the slightest mistouch would cause you to shatter like delicate porcelain.

“Please...” She knew you couldn’t hear her, but she didn’t care. She just wanted to pretend, for a brief moment, that you could, and that you’d bounce right back up. But, you stayed limp on the bed, unmoving. “Please wake up...”

The others were able to read the room and came to a silent consensus, filing out of the room wordlessly.

She continued to hold your hand, sitting silently on your bedside for hours.

You never regained consciousness once.

---

Dreams flashed through her mind, the inner turmoil she faced was too fierce to not have such vibrant, nonsensical dreams. Dreams of you, spending late nights with her, or eating with her in silence. Dreams of your broken and bloodied body being sent flying from a hellish firework of flames. Dreams of visiting a newly dug grave. Dreams of—

A loud banging startled her out of her sleep, and she opened her eyes with a start, the dreams stopping abruptly as her brain pieced together the fragments of reality. Right, they were just dreams.

The banging—what was it? She looked around for a source. Nothing had fallen, nothing had moved, the room was still.

*BANG BANG BANG*

She jumped at the loud so, before facepalming internally. Of course someone was knocking on the door, what was she thinking?

A quick glance at the clock showed the time; 3AM. What is going on?

She rubbed the sleep from her eyes as she threw on some sweatpants, just presentable enough to answer the door.

She twisted the knob open and was greeted by...

“Armin?” She slurred, confusion and tiredness laced her voice.

“Annie...!” He had a strange look on his face, like he was in a hurry. Yet, it didn’t look like desperation, nor was it excitement. “Y/n woke up!”

---

She had never run faster. She didn’t care about leaving Armin in the dust at her front doorstep—hell, it didn’t even process until minutes later that she didn’t even close the front door. She just ran, ran, ran all the way to the hospital.

She made it to your room again, panting and desperate to see you again.

She went inside, and an immense wave of relief and joy washed over her face. It was true, you were conscious. Sitting up in the bed, talking to someone at your bedside, likely a nurse or a doctor.

Her loud footsteps and heavy breathing brought the attention of both you and the staff member to her, and you locked eyes with her.

She froze. There they were. The beautiful E/C eyes she had fallen in love with, and the same ones that filled her vision when she first awoke next to you in the morning. Except, something was off. She couldn’t quite place it, but there was disarray in your eyes. A storm.

She paid no mind to the rotten gut feeling, though, and rushed by your side to grip your hand tightly. A spark of sympathy arose in her chest when you whimpered in pain at the motion, but that was the last thing on her mind. Tears of happiness sparked in her eyes and threatened to roll down her cheeks.

She bowed her head—a sign of vulnerability that only you were ever able to see.

“Y/n, I...!” She choked out through the tears in her eyes, the back of her throat tightening with emotion, “I’m so glad you’re okay...”

You didn’t embrace her, you didn’t squeeze her hand back. No, you were still. Still as you were when your battered body was first admitted to the hospital. She looked up at you, and the same misguided look was in your eyes.

“Sorry... do I know you?”

---

She slammed the door behind her, locking it as she slid down the wall of her house, sobs wracking her body.

Her mind had neglected to process it until just now, but the truth was inescapable; you didn’t know who she was anymore. You didn’t know anyone or anything anymore.

Amnesia.

She couldn’t bear to see you like that. Seeing you so physically broken was bad enough, but seeing you confused and lost, years of memories and connections and friends just out the window? If there was a god, he sure as hell must’ve hated you.

She had no idea what to do. You weren’t going to just magically remember her. No, the Y/N she knew and loved all those years was gone. You were just a blank slate. She no longer meant anything to you, she was a stranger in your eyes.

She laid down to go to sleep, but she couldn’t even bring herself to close her eyes. She didn’t sleep that night.

---

She chose not to get up the next morning. She stayed in bed, staring at the empty space next to her where you usually slept. She wanted you to be right there next to her. God, she wanted you back.

She would’ve stayed in her depressed, hibernated state for hours, or even days, had someone not stopped by to check on her.

She figured it would be Armin. The sympathetic blonde man would always stop by to check on her. Not just now, but throughout their days as cadets. He was always the second person—after you, of course—to check up on her and ask how she was doing.

But when she opened the door and saw Mikasa, she was a little confused.

“Mikasa, what are y-”

“Y/n wants to speak with you.” She stated flatly, and Annie physically recoiled at the mention of your name.

“She... what?” Annie muttered, confusion enveloping her tone.

She understood the statement, on a surface level at least. But she didn’t understand why. Why did you want to talk to her? She meant nothing to you. What was there to talk about anymore? You probably didn’t even know her name.

She complied silently, though, and before long, she had trudged herself all the way to the hospital.

302. Such a depressing number to her now. But it was unavoidable. You were on the other side of the door, awaiting her for some odd reason.

She pushed the door open, and her eyes met yours silently. You were sitting up with your hands folded neatly in your lap. Your eyes followed Annie as she wordlessly shut the door and took a seat next at your bedside.

“Annie.” The blonde women flinched at the sound of her name, eyes staying fixated on anything but your face. “Annie.”

She finally shifted her head, meeting your gaze. There was a pitiful look tracing her features. It would look like indifference at first glance, but being so close to her allowed you to notice small features on her face, like her sunken in eyes, and her lips, tucked into a frown slightly tighter than normal.

She looked like she was about to cry.

You moved your arm slowly, wincing internally as your wounds burned and ached, and took her hand in your own, rubbing your thumb over the back of her hand in a soothing manner. Annie didn’t want to enjoy it—she knew this wasn’t the you she had fallen in love with—but she couldn’t stop herself from remembering the simpler times, where small affectionate gestures like this were normal to her.

“Mikasa told me just about everything I’ve forgotten.” You finally spoke up. “About the Scouts, about the accident, about us.” A painful silence filled the room for a moment following the word ‘us’. Surely, it meant more to her than it did to you.

“Annie.” You squeezed her hand despite the pain shooting up your arm, and your hand trembled involuntarily. “I know I don’t really know you,” You chuckled lightly, “or anyone for that matter, but I want to spend more time with you. We can just restart, fall in love all over a-”

“No!” She snapped, the sudden outburst causing you to jump. Her distressed eyes softened when she saw you, almost as if she thought you were made of glass, and that you would break at any moment. “No... please...”

She stood up abruptly, dropping your hand to lay dormant by the side of the hospital bed. “You don’t even know me! What’s the point?!”

Despite her angry appearance, her bottom lip trembled, and her voice shook as she spoke. Pricks of tears appeared at the corner of her eyes, but she wiped them away desperately.

“You forgot me, so I’ll forget you in return.” She turned towards the door, grabbing the knob firmly. Despite her desperate need to get out of the room, her hand trembled and shook, refusing to turn the knob.

“I’ll...” A small sob wracked her body. “Find someone else...”

---

Contrary to what her heart truly desired, she refused to see you. She forced herself to cut off all emotional ties to you—after all, you didn’t even know her. It was painful to even speak to you. Somehow, the loss had felt like you truly had died in the explosion. Sure, you were physically here, but all that was you was gone.

It was Armin who finally brought her out of her depressed slump. He saw the state of her after weeks of staying huddled up in her room. It was so unlike Annie. Her room was a mess, and so was she. Her hair was unkempt and unbrushed, and she hadn’t even showered at all. Clothes lay scattered across the room, and the trash can in the corner of the room had started overflowing.

It wasn’t a pleasing sight, but he couldn’t blame her.

He had offered to meet him at a local café to talk—albeit, after she showered. She hesitantly agreed, and went into the bathroom to get ready. While she showered, Armin absentmindedly picked up some of the scattered clothing, putting it in it’s proper place, and even emptied the trash can for her.

He saw the slight shock in her eyes when she came out, surprised, but internally grateful for his help. She didn’t show it verbally, but she gave a thankful nod, and he understood.

---

Armin brought the cup to his lips, the steam flowing from the cup blocking his face as he sipped his tea silently, and Annie took another bite of her glazed donut.

“So, Annie.” He turned to face her, setting his cup down. “I wanted to talk to you about something.”

She sighed internally. Nothing yet had been spoken, but she knew it was about you. Her silence beckoned him to continue.

“I... No, we all noticed how you’ve been recently, and we understand it. Who knows what you’re feeling right now...” His sympathy went mostly unappreciated. She really didn’t want to be reminded of the depressive state she had fallen into.

“It’s completely up to you, but... we think it would be better for you if you decided to talk to her again.” Armin didn’t need to say who this ‘her’ was. Annie already knew.

She raised an eyebrow and considered his statement for a fleeting moment, but regained her stance. She wasn’t going to talk to you. No convincing from her friends would change that.

“See, the thing is, Y/N has been discharged.” He spoke, bringing the cup back to his face to preemptively fill the silence he anticipated.

No amount of emotional cover-up could hide the shocked look on her face. Part of her was ecstatic, deep down. She was glad you were well enough to leave. But, the other part reminded her that associating with you would only bring her more hurt.

“But, there isn’t really going to be any recovering from what she experienced, unfortunately.” He brought the cup back down onto the table, now empty of all it’s liquid. “So, the doctor advised that she be under careful supervision from someone at all times.”

Annie wasn’t stupid. She knew where this was going.

“So,” he huffed a breath of heavy air, “We decided that if anyone was going to take her in, it should be you, Annie. We want to take her back to live with you.” She could feel her jaw slack at the proposal, and a full-fledged war had just started in her mind. She registered he was still speaking, but was too conflicted to listen.

Once again, part of her mind was desperately trying to reach you. To take you in and care for you, and to ensure you have a safe and comfortable recovery with her. She could restart with you, and make new memories with you, and everyone else.

But she understand it would be painful. Unbearable, even. She might as well be taking care of a stranger. You didn’t act like Y/n, you didn’t look like Y/n, hell, you hardly even knew who Y/n was at this point. It would just hurt her even more, all she needed to do was get away from you—!

“Annie...!” Armin spoke firmly, slightly leaned over the table as if he had been prying for her attention for a while now. He reached across the table to grab her hand, causing her to gasp. His hand was warm. It reminded her of you.

“I know what you’re thinking.” His voice was soothing and inviting, and she was reminded once again of what great friends she had made in the 104th.

“You think it’s gonna hurt, and it will, I’m sure. I understand too. She doesn’t quite act like she did before, we all noticed. It’s...” He paused, leaning back in his chair and looking to the side. It had hurt him, too. “Strange. To see a friend like this.”

He leaned forward, pulling his hand away to place it back on the table. “But you have to do something! Separating yourself from someone you care about so deeply isn’t good for you.” He brought his head up slightly, staring daggers into her eyes. “And don’t lie to me. I know you still care about her. You wouldn’t be so conflicted if you didn’t.”

Tears pricked at her eyes once again. She didn’t want to get emotional, and certainly not here of all places. But she knew he was telling the truth. She still cared, and it wasn’t good for her to ignore you.

“Besides,” He stood up, turning to leave. “She misses you too, Annie.”

---

She made up her mind that day. She was gonna bring you back home.

It wasn’t easy. Both the emotional aspect, but also cleaning up her filthy room in such a short span of time. Still, she prepped it perfectly for your arrival. She cleaned up the room, organized her things, made the bed, and even bought a second pillow—surely, you two couldn’t share just the one.

Picking you up from the hospital was bittersweet. You managed to stay standing, although only with the help of a wooden cane. Your hand gripped the handle tightly, and you leaned a large portion of your body weight on it, just to not fall over.

You had changed out of the raggedy hospital clothes, finally getting to wear something comfortable after so long, but even with the cloth, the purplish-redish burn scars coated much of your body. It reached from the very fingertips of your right hand, all the way up your neck and part of your face.

Still, you smiled weakly and brought your hand up to wave at her.

She approached you hesitantly, but as soon as you tried to stumble over to her, she rushed up to support you with an arm around your shoulder.

“Easy, now.” She muttered. “You should be careful.”

“Right,” You chuckled nervously. “Sorry.” You breathed out a sigh of relief, having seen the outside for the first time in weeks. It didn’t stop the stone walls from towering forebodingly over you, though, but you felt at least some freedom.

“Where are we headed?” You sighed, and started walking. Annie guided you for the most part, but you managed to get your injured legs to cooperate, somewhat. You hand trembled as it gripped the cane, and even step on uneven ground caused you to stumble, but Annie’s grip kept you upright.

“We’re going...” She hesitated. “Home.”

---

Early morning birds chirped their greetings through the open windows, and the sun shone rays of dawn down from the sky. A typical wake-up call to her.

That, and your snoring.

She opened her eyes and stretched, easing up the tension in her muscles, which had laid painfully dormant for the past eight hours. Yawning and rubbing the sleep from her eyes, her attention shifted to the mass attached to her side.

Your arms were wrapped tightly around her torso, and your head was buried in her chest. Despite having lived with you for a few weeks now, she hadn’t gotten used to the change. In the past, neither of you really cuddled in your sleep. You gave sweet goodnights and passed out on opposite sides of the bed just like that.

It was a welcome change, though, and seeing you tucked so comfortably into her side brought a smile and blush to her face. She ran a hand through your messy h/c hair, smiling softly as you stirred in response to the affection.

“...Mm?” You let out a groggy noise, having been woken up a little earlier than you were used to. Annie was always the morning person in the relationship.

“Good morning.” She cooed, removing her hand to sit up and get out of bed. Once she tried to stand, though, she felt a frail hand tug at her wrist. You grip was weak as a result of your injuries, and she could very easily wiggle out if she wanted to, but she faltered.

“C’mon...” You muttered, face down in the blankets, still halfway asleep. “Can’t you stay a little longer?”

Annie huffed in defeat, climbing back into the bed and shuffling back under the cotton sheets. You were back at her side in an instant, and she smiled once again. Even after everything, you were still just as cute as always when you were sleepy.

“We can’t stay like this for very long, you know.” She sighed, placing a warm, calloused hand on your back.

You groaned in annoyance at that. “Why’s that?”

“Armin and the others invited us out to get lunch. It’s been a while since the Survey Corps has had a day off.” She looked to the side before muttering quietly. “I also have to go to work with the military police... I’ve used up all my paid leave.”

“Oh... yeah, we should probably get ready.” Contrary to your tone, you were actually quite happy. Annie had been quite a bit overprotective of you since your injury, so you hadn’t gotten the chance to get out much. You couldn’t blame her much, though. You could hardly walk, eat, or do just about anything without assistance. You were glad she took good care of you, but it got a little overbearing sometimes.

“Let’s get up, then.” She said, slinking out of bed. You watched wordlessly as she slipped out of her night clothes into something more presentable, sliding her shirt over her head effortlessly. You couldn’t help but blush as your eyes trailed down her toned stomach.

She looked back at you with an unamused expression as she slid on a plain white shirt. “You shouldn’t stare, Y/n.”

“R-Right.” You looked away flustered. You had only technically known her a few weeks now, but man were you lucky.

Annie’s warm hand enveloping your own brought you back into reality, and you accepted her help wordlessly as you got out of bed.

She helped you out of your clothes and handed you something nice to put on for the day. It was a comfortable ritual the two of you got into, helping you get dressed in the morning.

She sat you down in one of the chair’s in her room, ordering you to stay put while she went to the military police mess hall to pick up breakfast for the two of you.

She came back into the room only a few minutes later, carrying two trays of food, and sat them down in front of both of you. It was a boring meal, typical of any military ration, but you didn’t complain.

“So, Annie,” She looked up from her food, still digging her fork into the baked potato on her plate. “Tell me a story.”

She smiled longingly, staying silent for a moment as she recollected her memories for a good story to tell. Ever since you lost your memory and started staying with Annie, you often spent mealtimes getting her to tell stories about you, her, and your other friends. About what happened in the 104th, and the Survey Corps, and sometimes, you’d ask Annie about her childhood and time before the military. She seemed very hesitant about the last one, but she still told you bits and pieces. You could easily infer that she didn’t have a very pleasant childhood, so you didn’t push the subject.

“Well,” Annie finally spoke, swallowing a gulp of water from her glass, having seemingly found a story she felt like telling. “One time, in the 104th, Sasha had managed to convince you to steal food from the pantry with her.”

You listened intently as she continued recounting the events, a sad smile on her face. “So you and her snuck in late at night, but Shadis heard both of you because of how loud Sasha was. So then, you two had no where to go but a tiny cramped pantry in the kitchen, and then—”

*CRASH*

You sat there like a deer in headlights as the glass shattered into hundreds of transparent shards on the floor, startling Annie out of her nostalgic trance.

“Y/n!” She exclaimed, standing up from her seat swiftly. She spotted the broken glass, mixed with the water it had held, and looked back at you. Once she pieced it together, she facepalmed.

“Y/n...” She sighed. “How many times do I have to tell you to not to try and pick up things right now...”

“Sorry,” You muttered. “I just wanted to see...”

Despite the severity of your injuries, you were quite stubborn. No matter how much Annie insisted that you not hold things in your state, you did so anyway. It seldom worked, since, like now, you always dropped it within seconds.

“It’s... It’s fine,” She sighed, leaning down to carefully pick up the larger fragments of glass. Once she got the larger pieces, she dumped them in the trash and knelt down in front of your chair on one knee, grabbing your hand in her own. “But you need to remember, your injuries haven’t healed yet. Nowhere close. I know you hate it, but you need to let your body rest.”

You nodded sorrowfully. Yet, despite how much you promised, you knew you’d never really stop trying to push your body. Even if your skin was scarred, and hands were shaky, and the muscles of your legs atrophied and partially-paralyzed, you would never stop trying to live a normal life.

Annie had finished sweeping up the smaller shards of glass in the dustpan, and dumped it into the trash can, before returning to the table.

Silently, she grabbed her glass, still half filled with water, and brought it up to your lips. When you had first started living with Annie, you were a little embarrassed about having to be fed like this, but you had long since gotten used to it.

Once the glass was empty, she sat it down on the tabletop once again, and checked the time.

“Shit, we should get going, it’s nearly time.” She sighs, grabbing your cane from it’s spot leaning against the wall and handing it to you. You thank her and, with her help, stand up from your spot. Her arm slinks around your waist, allowing you to lean half of your body weight on the cane and the other half on Annie.

As you made your way out of the building and down the street towards the restaurant, you finally broke the silence.

“Annie?” You asked, quietly. There was an uncharacteristic sadness to your voice.

“Yes, darling?” She inquired, keeping her eyes glued on the trail in front of you.

“How come you still take care of me? Even after the accident, you still stick with me. Why is that?”

Annie chuckles dryly. She doesn’t want to tell you that it’s still a sore subject for her, so she answers honestly.

“It wasn’t so black and white, really. It was pretty upsetting to see someone I loved so much not even recognize me at all.” Her eyes bore into the pavement below her feet. “No offense, of course.”

“None taken.”

“But a friend of mine talked to me about it. And I realized there would be no point in running from it. I decided that if you didn’t know me, I would make you fall in love with me all over again. Plus,” She looked to the side, a faint red blush on her cheeks. “I didn’t want you to feel lonely...”

You giggled at her embarrassment, opening your mouth to say something, but she cut you off quickly.

“We’re here.” She stopped in front of the doors, and you easily spotted Mikasa, Armin, and Jean already sitting inside at one of the tables, exchanging lighthearted banter.

“Hey Annie.”

“Hm?” She turned the knob of the door, stepping foot into the bustling room.

“Thanks for taking care of me.” You sighed, a small smile gracing your lips.

“Of course.” She smiled in return. “I’ll always be here for you.”

“Oi!” Jean shouted from across the room, and Armin immediately tried to shush his yelling, but he wasn’t phased. “Annie, Y/n, hurry up!”

You and Annie giggle at his boisterous attitude, walking over to find your seats.

“It’s been a while since we’ve seen you, Y/N.” Mikasa smiled warmly, tucking her scarf around her neck.

You smile at the three of them, looking so happy and peaceful. You’ve missed it.

“Yeah,” You laugh. “So, what did I miss?”

This feels badly written but I can’t place it, I dunno.

Probably ‘cause I wrote the first half like a month ago and only finished it today lol.

And no I totally didn’t reference someone else’s fic in this haha nope

#attack on titan #attack on titan x reader #shingeki no kyojin #shingeki no kyojin x reader #aot #snk #aot x reader #snk x reader #annie leonhart #annie leonhart x reader #annie x reader #fluff #angst

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kenjikutie · 4 years ago

Text

summary: you and kageyama had made many promises to one another, but, perhaps the king doesn’t need a princess after all word count: 2k warnings: none! just a lot of angst pairing: kageyama tobio x fem!reader

you would always remember your first day of middle school. that was the day that you decided your older brother would forever be the bane of your existence. not only had he left you at home without waking you up but, he had also begun his walk without you, leaving you to navigate your way through the bustling streets of japan

with every step you took, you swore that your lungs were about to give out. you still had no idea how tooru did this every day and stayed after school for volleyball practice. maybe you could put shaving cream in his pillow or hide his sports sneakers as revenge for leaving you all alone, but, he had gotten you the coveted manager position for his team, so, that was something he could hold over your head for months to come

so lost in your thoughts of revenge, you didn’t notice that you had slowed down to a nearly crawling speed, causing the person behind you to knock right into your back, sending you flying to the concrete, papers and books scattering all around, getting trampled by the passerby

“i- i’m sorry!”, a small voice cried out, reaching down to lift you off of the ground and awkwardly dust off your shoulder

you giggled and ran a hand through your hair, holding up your hands, “no, it’s okay! i promise.”

judging by his uniform, he was also a first year in middle school and you were certain you had never seen someone look so nervous. maybe he was lost like you were. there was a pale blush on his face, one which only grew deeper when you walked up to him, curiously leaning inward

“what’s your name?”, you hadn’t even noticed how close the two of you were

you had always been a bubbly person, just like your elder brother. personal space had never been a phrase in your vocabulary and it had been fine that way in elementary school, but you supposed it was time for you to mature a little bit. after all, curiosity did kill the cat

backing up, you held out your hand for him to shake, “i’m oikawa y/n! im a first year, too!”

still, the boy said nothing, clearly too frazzled to open his mouth. with a soft laugh, you picked up the books and papers you had dropped, not minding that he didn’t help. when you came back up from the ground, you noticed that he hadn’t moved at all

taking his hand in yours, you began to run in the direction of your middle school, ignoring his surprised gasp and quiet protests. eventually, he relaxed in your grip and ran beside you, instead of letting you drag him around like a ragdoll

quietly, kageyama snuck a glance at your face, feeling the godforsaken blush from earlier creep it’s way back up his neck. you had to have been the prettiest girl he had ever seen in his short lifespan. no, scratch that- you were the prettiest girl anyone could ever see-

he was almost sad when the two of you reached the gate of kitagawa first. your hand quickly untangled itself from his and you turned to him with a wide grin. kageyama swore his heart had never beaten so fast

“i’ll see you later! thanks for running with me.”, before you could turn around, he clutched onto your jacket, effectively stopping you

“k-kageyama tobio.”, he let out a shaky sigh, “that’s my name.”

after that encounter, you became what kageyama tobio would consider to be his closest friend. each day, there would be a pouch of yogurt or a carton of strawberry milk sitting on your desk, a desk specifically chosen by you due to it’s location-right behind kageyama’s head-

you loved to annoy him during class by poking him with your pencil or slipping notes into the hood of his jacket for him to find later. kageyama would never tell you that he kept them all in a small box on his dresser

during his first year, kageyama knew that you were the only reason he stayed on the volleyball team. anytime your brother teased him, you were jumping on his case, pulling his hair and whining for him to not bully your best friend. oikawa would just ruffle your hair and begin to tease you about having a little crush

kageyama didn’t like that. he didn’t like the idea of you having feelings or even a close friendship wth someone that wasn’t him. you were the only person he felt he could go to when he was overwhelmed, the only that would lay with him and watch clouds on the weekends and the only one who would stay in the gym with him until the late hours of the night to toss volleyballs

“hey, yn? you’re still gonna be my best friend in high school, right?”, kageyama had asked as the two of you sat on the gym steps, quietly sipping from your waterbottles

you quirked a brow, wondering where that question had come from, “of course i am, tobio! do you really think i would leave you all alone?”

kageyama went quiet and you worried that you had said something wrong. without thinking, you reached over and grabbed his hand, feeling him tense under your hold. you could have sworn that his cheeks turned bright red as soon as your fingers grazed one another

so, you sat there underneath the moonlight, feeling your heart begin to beat a little bit faster when your best friend intertwined his fingers with yours, slightly squeezing

but, that connection all changed one quiet, fall day in third year. that was the first time a pouch of yogurt didn’t show up on your desk. you had matured a lot since the first day you met kageyama. you weren’t as curious as before and certainly not as naive

you knew that kageyama and you had lost touch and that things weren’t the same as before. after you quit managing for the volleyball team, late night meetings stopped and hanging out together for lunch was pushed aside for extra practice. it was beginning to drive you crazy

to fill the void left by kageyama, you started to hang out more with the other third years, such as kunimi and kindaichi. but after a while, kunimi began to see the lost look in your eyes whenever you glanced towards kageyama’s locker, only to find him missing

but, the lazy boy didn’t have the heart to tell you what had happened to your old best friend. he couldn’t let you know how kageyama screamed at them, how he slammed balls on the court out of frustration, how he had become the king

kunimi knew it was only a matter of time until you found out, though. you had always been smarter than anyone he knew. so, it didn’t surprise him when you arrived at their final game of the season, cheeks painted in their school colors and your old manager jacket on your shoulders

standing at the top of the bleachers, you admired the way kageyama looked in his uniform. he was more mature now from the looks of him but you could tell he still drank his milk and yogurt cartons before every game, judging from the amount of them in the trash can

your heart nearly lept out of your chest when he turned to look up at you, your eyes connecting with his blue ones. you weren’t sure what kageyama was thinking about or if he was even happy to see you there but you were sure his eyes widened just a little bit

after about an hour, the game was in full force and you had been exposed to a side of kageyama you had never seen before. your heart beat faster form the crazed, furious look in his eyes anytime he glanced at his teammates and you couldn’t help but wonder what happened to the boy who was lost on your first day of school

but, the worst was yet to come. when kageyama reaches backward for a set, preparing to score the final point, no one came to receive it. the entire arena was silent, as if everyone was afraid to move and you saw kageyama crack like marble

the game ended after that with a final loss for kitagawa first. you exchanged glances with kunimi, noting the lack of expression in his eyes. you assumed that putting kageyama in his place was enough for him to feel satisfied with how their final season ended

kageyama shoved past his teammates, knocking their shoulders so hard you thought they might fall over. quickly gathering your things, you sprinted down the stairs of the bleachers and towards where you had seen him leave

you skid to a stop when you saw his back, frozen where he stood, fists clenched so tightly he may burst blood vessels. your eyes softened at how tense his shoulders were and you so badly wanted to reach out and help him, but that wasn’t your place anymore

as you took one step forward, kageyama turned to face you, a glaring look in his eyes that made you shiver, “what the hell are you doing here?”

the phrase was a snarl

“i...i wanted to check on you, because-“

“because you feel sorry for me? i don’t need your pity and i don’t want it either!”

running a hand through your hair, you shook your head and glanced up at him, “i don’t pity you. i just wanted to help you...”

kageyama rolled his eyes and chucked the volleyball in his hand at the wall, not even flinching as the sound echoed through the hall. you, however, jolted at the action and took a step back

“what happened to you?”, your voice was barely a whisper

his eyes flared as he turned to face you, “what happened to me? are you serious? what about you, huh? quitting the manager job even though you loved it! you changed everything about who you are!”

you were starting to get angrier; you could feel it in your gut, “i grew up, kageyama! maybe you should try it and stop acting like an arrogant brat!”

kageyama nearly pouted when he heard you call him by his surname. you hadn’t used it for the whole time he knew you. maybe he really had messed everything up this time, but it was too late for apologies now

“i don’t need to explain anything to you! i never even cared about you in the first place! you were always annoying. clinging to my sleeve like some child.”

your eyes were beginning to fill with tears and kageyama felt like he had been punched in the gut when a few rolled down your cheeks. stop it, he told himself. you’re screwing it all up! don’t lost her like this! but he wouldn’t listen, not even to himself

wiping at your eyes with your sleeve, you sniffled then flares up at the boy you used to call your favorite person in the world

“you know what? you’re the king now, great job! you’re the greatest player on the team. but, you’re also the worst human being i’ve met! you care abut no one but yourself and only think about your own future, disregarding everyone else who tries to help you!”

kageyama had never seen you this angry and it terrified him. perhaps, some part of him always thought you would come back to him, sit with him on the gym steps again and count the stars in the sky as he rested his head on your shoulder but that was all gone now

“so im done, kageyama. stay away from me, got it?”

as soon as you turned around, he reached out for you, pulling his arm back as soon as it left his side. why had it had to happen like this? why was he so selfish? if only he had accepted your help, then he still would have had you by his side

maybe he would get another chance one day. if the world allowed him, he would reincarnate as someone who could love you the way you deserved. someone who didn’t push you away, and just maybe... you could love one another again

“hi, im kageyama tobio. it’s nice to meet you.”

“im oikawa yn! it’s nice to meet you too!”

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu!!#haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu headcanons #kageyama fluff #kageyama angst #tobio kageyama #tobio kageyama x reader #kageyama x reader #kageyama imagines #kageyama tobio x reader #kageyama tobio #haikyuu angst #seijoh #karasuno

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abraxos-the-phantom · 3 years ago

Text

Scum Disciple Deleted

-scenes. Here you go @vodkassassin. Unformatted and mostly unedited save for some awkward phrasing I fixed as I skimmed through it. I have a habit of merely taking out scenes rather than straight deleting them when I don't think they work out so if you see it on the fic shhh I probably just found a better place for it, but for the most part I think these are unused

TLJ + MF; Flashback/Illusion

[Log: File:Save_??-???.?.????.log]

“You know, for a man so keen on maintaining the preference of a dignified cultivator, you are fairly quick to disband such things as you see fit,” Tianlang-jun mused.

Ming Fan threw a dirty look to the former Overlord of the Demonic Realm over his bowl of beef stir fry lily bulbs. It was a specialty in this region, boasting a sweet lily bulb due to the length of time the farmers around the area spent cultivating the plant. In other words, it was delicious and a welcome change to the guilt trip galore that was eating Lou Binghe’s cooking.

Oh to eat that delicious snow congee without feeling the compulsion to throw it all back up-

Well, no use dwelling on such things.

“Most of anything could be considered vulgar when in close proximity to you,” Ming Fan quipped, taking a generous helping of the stir-fry between his chopsticks. “If you had as much sensibility as you had sensuality, I guarantee that people would be more fond of you. Unfortunately, it is too late for me.”

“Hoh? Is that so?” Tianlang-jun’s lips curled in a smirk in spite of the fact that Ming Fan had no interest looking his way, regardless of the other demon happened to do. Some odd five or so years have taught Ming Fan that there were times when the best move for dealing with the other was simply ignoring him.

Ming Fan maintained his bland tone as he briefly paused to speak, “Yes.”

Tianlang-jun shook his head, “Honestly. Are all disciples of Cang Qiong like you, or are you just the special one.”

Said disciple only gave Tianlang-jun a significant dirty look, “You’d have to actually behave yourself to get to know another disciple of Cang Qiong.”

“Eh,” the Heavenly Demon leaned back against his chair with his hands crossed behind his head. “Too boring.”

Ming Fan made a noncommitting sound as he finally ate the last of his order, letting out a satisfied sigh as he leaned back in his seat.

“Ming Fan, a question if you are so gracious enough to grant me such a thing.”

Ming Fan only raised a brow, “You may ask, whether I answer is not on the table.”

“Why?” Tianlang-jun paused as he attempted to think about his question. “Why do you maintain this relationship of ours? It’s not as if you’re on any obligation to maintain basic relations for a political reason, and you hardly ask me anything so you aren’t after my wisdom. With Lou Binghe going in and out Cang Qiong Sect, it’s not as if I can threaten your Sect any more than I could try and fight with my son.”

Ming Fan crossed his arms, humming for a moment tilting his head just enough to convey thoughtfulness he turned to look the demon lord in the eye, “If you were to be confronted with a former enemy of a war without meaning, what would you do?”

Tianlang-jun hummed, “I wouldn’t care.”

“Exactly,” Ming Fan pointed out. “Now what would you do if you discovered you were on the wrong side of that war?”

“…I still wouldn’t care.”

“Would you?” Ming Fan hummed, “Well, that’s your choice.”

“So is that all? You pity me?”

“Not quite,” Ming Fan shrugged, idly arranging the finish plate on the table. “More like my recompense of sorts.”

Tianlang-jun’s expression was unreadable as he stared, quietly adding, “You realize that I’ve killed hundreds of cultivators like you. Your age, younger- older. It didn’t matter, they were obstacles in my path and I removed them.”

“Of that I do not doubt, but these days- the line between righteous and mad is thin,” Ming Fan snorted. “I stand at the meager in-between myself. But what else can I do? I am but a mere mortal, attempting to right his wrongs.”

Ming Fan took a final sip at his tea, “Sometimes, that is all one can do without going well and truly mad.”

Tianlang-jun chuckled, “I suppose that’s true.”

The hours seemed endless after that, a moment in time felt like hundreds upon billions as the two simply- existed.

“So,” Tianlang-jun said after an eternity’s moment. “What are you doing here Little Cultivator?”

Ming Fan blinked, “Is this not one amongst our many meetings?”

The world seem to blur around him like ink amongst a pool of water. Fading into implied images as the sky and trees distorted. The sounds of the earth quieted to a hushed whisper. Ming Fan’s eyes casted around in confusion as the lively village dulled into a dead silence.

“It isn’t,” Tianlang-jun leaned back, smirking. “You’ve spent so long with me that I am now here with you- in limbo. I’m flattered Fan-er.”

Ming Fan narrowed his eyes, scowling, before looking away, “Definitely. Tianlang-jun never called me that to my face.”

Ming Fan twisted away from the…demon for some time to think.

TLJ + MF - Actual Flashback

“You look like you went a round and three more with a golem,” Tianlang-jun tsked at him.

“Are you going to lecture me about coming out while I look like I lost against said golem or are you going to sit your ass down and have some tea like we agreed?” Ming Fan snapped, wincing as he sat.

Tianlang-jun whistled wolfishly. “Why, I never took that War God to be the kinky type.”

“Don’t be so obscene,” Ming Fan rolled his eyes. “He landed me flat on my ass almost a dozen times. Of course sitting down would be a pain.”

“You know there’s this flower that-“

“No.”

“But I hurt just looking at you,” Tianlang-jun whined like a particularly annoying brat. “One tiny little adventure to look for a flower that heals bruises instantly, it’s a Lotus of a blue hue, I hear those people from the far West have been using it for some time.”

“And then Liu Qingge will have me spar against him, again, and this hellish circle will repeat itself. I am only saved by the fact that my cultivation is not as advanced as one of a Peak Lords, otherwise I would be healed by the end of the week and my pain begins anew,” Ming Fan shook his head. “I appreciate your concern, I really do, but no.”

“Aww, well since you’re being so polite about it…” Tianlang-jun sighed and sipped from the tea. “Mn- this is good. Where did you get it?”

“Shang-shishu taught me how to prepare lemon tea before the fruits go out of season, apparently there is a sweetened-cold version of this as well, but he has yet to refine the technicalities of the ingredients. I worry for him, he always seems so busy.”

“He looks like a rodent who accidentally ate a pepper, though I suppose in this case it would be a block of ice what with Mobei-jun being his lover and all.”

“I did wonder how that happened, and worried a brief time. An Ding Peak’s disciples had said that their master would occasionally come home bruised and barely able to walk, they were rearing to go to war with the Northern Demons far before everything else happened.” Ming Fan sighed, “Well, it isn’t any of my business. I’m sure they’re dealing with the situation in their own way.”

“True that, those An Ding Peak children…physically they are weak, but it is always the weaker ones that surprise you the most. Especially when angry,” Tianlang-jun smiled as he mused. “Afterall, hornets don’t seem like much at first glance. That Mobei-jun has his work cut out for him, ah, speaking of. What of those two? Surely the boy is tip-toeing these days.”

“He tends to keep to the bamboo house, and we tend to stay far away from the bamboo house, especially at night.” Ming Fan raised his hand to drink. “That is all I will say of the matter.”

Ming Fan sighed, rubbing a hand against his eyes, “I am getting far too old for this.”

“Oh please, you’re not even a century old.”

“Hm, and yet somehow I am still significantly more mature than you. Have you reached the regression stage of life Tianlang-jun? I must say, I’m rather peeved that it’s a mental deterioration rather than a physical one for you demons.”

“Hoh?” Tianlang-jun leaned forward, smirking. “Wish to test how youthful I can be Little Cultivator?”

Ming Fan raised a hand idly pointing at the silks of Tianlang-jun’s clothes, startling the heavenly demon as he wondered just what the other had found on his clothes.

Then Ming Fan flicked up, hitting the former Demon Lord up the lip and under the nose, causing Tianlang-jun to recoil, sputtering from the unjust attack. The audacity.

“I’m sure you’d at least warm the bed,” He deadpanned, sipping at his tea without a care as Tianlang-jun sputtered indignantly.

NMJ/MF - Original Re-meeting for ch 52; added here for my convenience (cus i don't wanna make another post)

“Gather everyone who can fight!” One voice called. “Sect Leader Nie is being surrounded by a pack of hell hounds! They need help.”

Ming Fan was out and running before anyone could even blink- with only Liu Qingge and Tianlang-jun holding enough time to react by following him.

“Shit-“ Mingjue cursed, swinging around Bàxià to hurl one attacking hound over to the side. “Meng Yao- you alright?!”

“Could use-” Meng Yao grimaced as he had to back off to avoid the snapping jaws of another hound. “Some help.”

“Reinforcements should be on the way!” Mei Lin cursed venomously under her breath. “Just where the hell did all these damned dogs come from?!”

“We’re being overrun!” Lang Fengyi yelped as he narrowly avoided claws.

“Fuck-“ Mingjue gathered his energy, willing it to fill him once more. “Get ready to run! I should be able to distract them long enough to-“

“Don’t worry about that.”

The disciples of Nie turned to find a man arrogantly walking through the field, the hounds yipping in fear and running from him, as well as another man clad in white and silver who eyed the hounds back.

Tianlang-jun stood before the disciples of Qinghe Nie with a bright smile, “Relax now, everything will be fine.”

Liu Qingge huffed, drawing his sword, “Says you. We have to make sure he’s not overworking himself remember?”

There was a distant rumbling- an ominous presence that washed over them to the point where all the hounds began to shudder and shake in fear as they too yipped around fearfully.

Descend with great speed. Swift and merciless. Run my enemies. Leave none left alive. May death greet you well.

Formation formed.

Ming Fan dropped his sword with militaristic precision, tilting all the swords generated by his power towards the ground in varying angles.

Heavenly Wrath Formation.

Tianlang-jun looked up in the surprise, “Don’t tell me that’s-“

“It is,” Liu Qingge scowled.

“Who-“ Nie Mingjue began- before all hell broke loose.

Liu Qingge’s expression was thunderous as he swept past rows of demonic hounds, tilting on hand and waiting-

Another man dropped from the sky not a second later, catching Liu Qingge’s robes and righting him before swinging his legs on the man’s waist to get around and jab another hound in the back- Tianlang-jun was swift to join the fray, allowing the shorter cultivator to move around him to get at all the lucky hounds who managed to move away from Ming Fan’s deadly aim fast enough.

While Tianlang-jun added to the deadly partnership with his own flare, it was the pair of Ming Fan and Liu Qingge that showed the obvious years of partnership between them- for the two had years of spars and night hunts to guide their blades where they need be.

Heads flew, limbs joining them as the immortals of Cang Qiong Sect and Tianlang-jun of the Heavenly Demon Line slaughtered the feared and the rowdy- leaving those of Qinghe Nie in awe.

“..Wei…” Meng Yao said, knees beginning to grow weak. “Wei Fan?!”

The man abruptly froze, glancing towards their direction before seeming to move on instinct- the War God sensing the sudden change and using his arm to propel him outward, allowing the man to fly across the air and land his sword true through the skull of the hell hound that was just about to take a chunk from Nie Mingjue’s side.

Ming Fan, not upset as he was, barked at them venomously, “Just what do you think you’re doing?! Fucking move! You’re in a battle field! Fight damn you! Are you not of Qinghe Nie?!”

“Teacher Wei!” Mei Lin cried- openly actually, crying.

“Oh for the love of-“ Ming Fan cursed. “I’ll take your crying and yelling and cursing later, lift your sabres and fight!”

“Xiao-Fan!”

Ming Fan turned, grunting as he launched his sword in the Heavenly Demon’s direction and skewering the hound. “What?!”

“Lower your blood pressure!”

Ming Fan felt his blood pressure rise out of sheer spite. “Fuck you!”

“A-Fan,” Liu Qingge growled. “You just performed one of the most powerful formations while silent. Calm down.”

“I can’t!” Ming Fan caught himself with a scowl. “But I’m not upset!”

“For the love of-“ Liu Qingge turned to Tianlang-jun. “Can you handle the rest?”

“Yeah I got it,” Tianlang-jun batted away a hound with his bare fist. “Just take care of our pissed off little horse first.”

Liu Qingge wasted no time, grabbing the now fuming Ming Fan, his nose beginning to trickle with a line of blood and generally causing the already shocked disciples of Qinghe Nie to panic.

“Hey,” Liu Qingge’s voice was soft as it was firm. “Calm down. Calm. That’s not a request.”

“I’m trying,” Ming Fan hissed. “You try doing this in the middle of battle.”

“Alright back up plan,” Liu Qingge turned to the still shocked Nie Mingjue. “You. Make yourself useful. He needs a distraction.”

“Wha-“

Liu Qingge shoved Ming Fan into Nie Mingjue, the taller man abruptly catching the man by the waist to steady him before something else caused him to loose balance.

Forgot one: Deleted Extra feat. Yang Yixuan + MF; written with it's og formatting since notes preserved my italics somehow

Cold wind swept past the ravine.

Shaking trees and rustling branches provided the background noise for the twittering creatures who lived in the back mountains. Within this quiet land was a surrounding of high elevation mountains spanning all around the mountain side.

There, Ming Fan sat quietly. Watching the creatures bellow- there were no humans for miles save for those few people within the Ancient Sect, and they were hardly just human anymore.

“So, you’ve finally decided to get off your ass.”

Ming Fan stiffened.

Yang Yixuan’s arms were cross across his breast, idly looking down from the view of Qing JIng Peak.

The landscape had changed much since Ming Fan had last come here, it was greener. With the trees far taller than when Ming Fan had last seen them, the older trees cut down by the ravages of war and time- but new ones taking their place. The silence too, was new. With no disciples Cang Qiong Mountain was a far quieter place than it had been during the height of its Sect Years. Some ascended, some peacefully settling into their next life, and some sticking around. Going to and fro the place carrying out errands and enacting a firm hand where the average Cultivator could not handle. The war had put a damper on such things, what with their stance of neutrality, bu it was no less somewhat of a sobering surprise that those of Cang Qiong Mountain had seen what was happening and judged it would be better to remain quiet.

He knew why of course, it was more practical in the long run for a mythical Sect, they were not here to force the future into their own hands- merely to counter the monsters of the yester years. Still. He wondered.

“You’re thinking so loud I could practically here it,” the former head disciple of Bai Zhan peak, the former Peak Lord himself, continued with a raised brow. “You’re normally quick to empty your mind and dump it onto others.”

Ming Fan scoffed softly, “Normal is a poor basis to use to pass judgement at the moment, even a Bai Zhan Peak buffoon like you should realize such.”

“…”

Ming Fan pursed his lip, anger simmering.

Settle.

“I’m sorry, that was uncalled for.” He said softly, allowing his fist to slack from their death-like grip.

“You just lost your brohter,” Yang Yixuan said bluntly. “You were a raving asshole when Liu-shifu dragged you here. Pretty much spat at Luo Binghe’s feet and insulted just about everyone.”

Ming Fan restrained the urge to flinch at every word.

“I’d be more than a little troubled if you didn’t act like that after losing your brother.” Yang Yixuan continued with a shake of his head. “It’s good to know that our illustrous Ming Fan is still a human.”

“Have I not proven that time and time again?”

“Dunno,” Ming Fan turned his head, the Bai Zhan Peak’s former sole disciple’s voice turning uncharacteristically soft. “You were doing a pretty good impression of acting like an immortal before.”

#Scum Disciple's Adventures Into the Unknown World #SDAUW #BTS I guess #Are there actually behind the scenes for writing idk #I'll see if I have time to write one since I do have a lot of notes from when i planned this fic #and maybe some bits of the history referenced in SDAUW #MDZS x SVSSS Fanfic #One that is tbh really out there in terms of concept ngl lol #Scum Disciple BTS

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botwstoriesandsuch · 5 years ago

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DEAR FISH FUCKERS, YOU’RE WELCOME

I’ve done what no other has done before (to my knowledge) and found the aging system for the Zora!

Ok so this started as simple research for this ask

See, I misread the phrasing of “best educated guess” to “research for 2 hours and come to a conclusive answer” so anyhow before I indulge you into the answers of the universe allow me to explain the research I’ve come across

[TL;DR at the bottom]

So firstly, we have to look at our conclusive evidence, from which we’ll base our theory/headcanon on, which can mainly be found in the Creating a Champion book, and some dialogue in game. I’ve compiled them all in these bullets here

Zora children are around 20ish years old [as said by dialogue with Finley in her love letter sidequest, I don’t have a screenshot but please just take my word for it]

150ish is considered middle-aged for Zora

Muzu is around 4 centuries old

Curved claws, weathered fins, and worn noses are signs of an older Zora that is more than 3 centuries(ish) old

Zora that were friends with Link must be around 150ish (not just 100), since you need to also account for the 20+ years of growing from a child stage, to the more normal sized form that you see them in the game, ergo, it’s that age plus the 100 years stasis that we determine the “middle age” of around 150

150 is the middle age, double that for the average old age of 300 years, but I say it could go to 400 too for additional reasons I’ll explain later with examples with my final age system. Anyhow, Muzu is around 400 if you take the 100 years for actually growing up from childhood, additional 100+ years of holding a different job as I doubt you just straight out hire a councilman without experience, and then another century for where he first started working in in the council, training Mipha, which would overlap with the period of the pre and post Great Calamity and Link’s return, meaning that’s 3 centuries plus 50ish years if we’re being generous with the overlap. This would help line up with the “for over a century” line as that doesn’t quite mean 2 centuries of working in the council, but Muzu is definitely getting up there to 4 centuries for his age alone

Now, I thought, this was gonna be my breakthrough, this screenshot here, depicting the traits of the older Zora. The elderly Zora are probably around 3 centuries old (since King Dorephan said they were young men around Mipha’s time, 150ish+100 gives us the range of 250-300), so I was like “Oh l can look at the size of their fins and noses and head/tail things and find a more efficient way to find their age” but nOPE. There is very little variation in that ballpark, the Zora either have exaggerated weathered noses or nice and shiny fins and no in between. The size of their head fins are roughly the same, with again, the only exaggerated differences being with the King and Sidon which doesn’t help at all because the Royal Zora already have a bunch of other difference such as their SIZE to name one.

I even went to the part about their curved toes, which initially would line up with some other Zora like Muzu

And let me tell you

I’ve looked at their toes

This is them from a child, a middle-aged, and an elderly. Color doesn’t matter and the curve? Well there’s

BARELY A DIFFERENCE

At least not nearly enough to find an efficient way to find age. Even Muzu’s final model didn’t have the exaggerated curvature as seen in the book.

I looked at their tail tail fins, (not the tail on their head, but their actual small rounded tail fin by their butts) because the book also mentioned how the grown Zora have more pronounced tail fins compared to the kids, but it was the same for the 150s and the 300s sooo not that helpful

So I kept digging. In the book I found that King Dorephan was crowned around 100 years before the game started. In addition I reread the 10 Zora stone monuments and found that he had killed a Guardian with his bare hands and thrown it off a cliff, which he still had a scar from.

[and yes I attempted to find his definitive age by seeing how long it takes for a scar to fade but I gave up cause Zora anatomy is too different to find a conclusive answer]

So I was like, “ok Dorephan had to have been around 150 when he came to the throne, then 50 years later the guardians are excavated giving way to the story about the guardian...” blah blah blahbla I even went to the supposed site where that guardian was, but it all didn’t really give me that much more info than what I already knew. I was researching ways to age the rock monuments from visuals alone which needless to say is pretty impossible, so I gave up on finding Dorephan’s age and I kept digging.

All I wanted was something physical that could properly give way to identifying a Zora’s age was that too much to ask???

Now this is where I had all but given up, it seems that my only answer was this vague note about how their fins move up when they grow

Which, to be fair, held true when I looked at the in-game character models myself, but I can’t exactly pixel measure these things for each Zora.

But THAT’S where the revelation came. I was so focused on finding inconsistencies within the elderly Zora, when I should have been looking at the young baby ones. See, this pictures, literally right next to the page about elderly Zora that I was analyzing for ages, is the key to it all

Now, I was thinking about the rings on a tree, and certain species of banded fish that grow and discard different markings as they grow older, I even counted the neck rings on certain Zora to see if they did that thing where they add a ring for each birthday like some African and Asian cultures do (look it up, that stuff’s pretty interesting!) and that is where it struck me.

Count how many luminescent markings are on their head

The males have 11, the females have 8 (on the one side, the other side has the same number of dots but for simplicity purposes I’m doing one side)

Now let’s count for these Zoras, who are middle aged-ish

The male has 10, the female has 7.

Now let’s look at the oldest Zora that we know of

3 dots above the eye, four on the tail. Muzu that motherfucker has 7 damn dots and I couldn’t be happier.

MY DUDES, GALS, AND PALS THIS IS IT, I’VE CHECKED AND DOUBLE CHECKED WITH NEARLY EVERY ZORA I COULD AND THE NUMBER OF LUMINESCENT MARKINGS ON THEIR HEAD CORRESPONDS WITH THE AMOUNT OF CENTURIES THEY’VE LIVED, LITERALLY AND FIGURATIVELY DOWN TO THE DOT

First we have Muzu, who as I’ve preciously stated is around 4 centuries old. 11-4? Oh, it’s seven, and that’s the amount of markings he has? OOoo??

How about this Zora Lady who recognized Link from 100 years ago?

Seven dots? 8-7 is 1 so shes just over one century which lines up timeline wise. You can even see how the third dot is slowing shrinking on her head so she’s coming up on 2 centuries

Ok how about the elders?

NINE. 11-9 is 2 centuries, with again, the dot by their head shrinking significantly showing how they’re getting up on 3 centuries.

The part I circled in green there is jewelry, not a marking, however this only goes further to prove my point. What better way to appear youthful than to have jewelry that makes it look like you have more markings than you have, made with luminous stone, no less.

This guy? Seggin? Super close to 4 centuries, those dots are fading away fast. Count your days old timer

Random dude that doesn’t recognize Link but is an new apprentice for sculpture making? 10 dots, a fresh 1 century pal, lookin young

I was a feral child running across the Domain screaming people’s ages in their face like a rude, naive, brat, I was elated to say the least. Especially since this system even works on the King himself

[plus one dot slightly behind the fin here...]

King Dorephan has 7 dots, he’s 400 years old. Which still lines up timeline wise, especially since he’s similar age with Muzu who he has stated is one of his most trusted advisors, beecaaaaaaaause of the years they’ve spent working together the timelines match uppppppp

This system works for almost all Zora, with 2 exceptions. Guards have helmets that cover their markings, so it’s impossible to tell. In addition, Prince Sidon, has sixteen lights on this hammerhead because he’s fancy like that (we already know he’s canonically 2ish centuries old anyhow from the DLC)

EDIT: I WAS WRONG THIS WORKS FOR SIDON TOO. The sixteen markings I was referring to was actually the amount of marking on each side of the head total, however if we look at the markings for only one side, like intended

Ten dots, Sidon’s over 100 years old. I’d say he’s closer to 150 given the timeline

Essentially, the most surefire way to find almost any Zora’s age is to identify a male or female Zora, count the number of lights on the side of their head/tail thing, then subtract from 11 if they’re a male, and from 8 for a female. The number left is how many centuries they’ve lived. You can check to see if their markings are shrinking and fading to get a sense if they’re coming up on the next century anytime soon. Comparing this with the oldest Zora we see in game, we can conclusively say that the Zora lifespan is around 3 to 4 centuries since no Zora has been seen with less than seven markings

Now go and make your Zora ocs with your appropriate number of lights. I’m gonna have a cookie

#botw #breath of the wild #legend of zelda botw #loz botw #zora #zora botw #botw theory #botw headcanon #no fuck that this IS canon

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noaltbruh · 3 years ago

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Il mio fato

Chapter two: Benvenuta nella squadra!

Feeling her arms and legs shaking, the newbie desperately hoped for someone to open their mouth to speak, or just... Acknowledge her presence. She didn't dare to look past her feet, her hands glued together like those of a servant. The others exchanged some confused looks, they were used to Bucciarati bringing a new member by now, and it wasn't much of surprise that Giorno would do the same, but this? They were mafiosi, what was a little girl that could barely articulate a phrase without panicking doing among these people? She looked like she couldn't have kept up a fight with a butterfly (Which wasn't false).

While he knew that it was what Eleonora wanted, Giorno refused to interfere immediately. He trusted her, and he was sure that she could keep the situation under control, there was no need to push her any further.

The uncanny silence that seemed to be lasting for an eternity, was finally interrupted by the sound of some of the chairs moving, but she couldn't make out whose they were, exactly. "Fine, if you all are just going to be jerks and not even say hi, I'll handle this" "Trish, what the heck are you doing?!" "What? Can't you see she's terrified? She's one of us now, we gotta make sure she feels at home here!" "You shouldn't trust her in the moment y-" "Ya know what's up? I'm with Trish on this. Come on guys, we were all super awkward when we first met the others, let's give her a little help" Narancia added, as he stood up, and approached the the young girl together with his friend.

"Heya, it's nice to meet you too! My name's Trish Una, even though you've probably already figured it out by now, haven't you?" She began, putting both of her hands on her hips, like she was striking a pose...She always found a way to be 'extra', somehow.

"Sup girl? The name's Narancia Ghirga, but you can call me Narancia, everyone calls me by my first name here" The boy smirked, and accidentally dropped the pencil in his pocket. While he was genuinely curious about meeting her, it was no secret that it was partially an excuse to get distracted a bit from his homework. "Now that I think about it, though...Why do you keep on calling me like this?! I'm almost eighteen! You should bring me more respect"

The girl with pink hair let out a small laugh. "Pffft...Please, I could NEVER call you Ghirga, it sounds too weird!" "Said the person whose surname is Una, is that why you're wearing a skirt with Maths on it?" "Well...I don't tell you to call me by my surname!" "But I'm older than-" "I-I'm sorry to interrupt you b-but...Could you slow down a-a little bit? I...Can't keep up"

Their sudden approach had caused the other to instinctively take a step back, they had gotten so invested in their argument, to almost forget who they were introducing themselves to in the first place.

Trish's smile disappeared for a brief moment, then she continued. "Oh Gosh! No no dear, we should be the ones apologizing, this isn't about us" Narancia crossed his arms, his smug grin had no intention to leave. "Even though...If you're gonna stick around, you better get used to all this noise!"

A similar amount of energy was not something the brunette was used to, she was not prepared to see them getting so close to her out of nowhere; despite this, a little smile formed on her face. While she wasn't good at showing it...Having them so eager to get to know her filled her with joy. With a bit of reluctance, she extended her arm in their direction, fixing her glasses with her other hand. "Thank you for your welcome...I really appreciate your kindness"

Narancia energetically took her hand with both of his, and shook it so hard to make her entire body shake. "It's no big deal! Sorry if I scared ya" "But...Uh...Can I ask you a little favor?" "Mh?" "Can you...Well...Show your face a little more? I can't even see your eyes, besides, I think I'm prettier than the floor!"

As her cheeks turned red for the embarrassment, she raised her head, allowing them to take a better look at her. She didn't like the feeling of their green and purple eyes staring at every centimeter of her body, but she wouldn't even think about letting it show.

"Come on! No need to be all tense and dense, we don't bite" "Narancia's right, how about you sit next to us?" Before even receiving a response, the latter had already picked up a chair from a nearby table, holding it proudly in the air like it was an heavy boulder. The girl timidly approached him, volunteering to carry it, but he declined her help, insisting that he was perfectly fine. "Please...Give it to me, there's no need for you to-" "Nah, I got this, don't cha worry about me" "Are you sure about this? There's barely enough space for you guys already, maybe I-" "Oh please, don't make us beg you! I'm sure we can find a place for you with no big troubles"

Suddenly, Fugo, who wasn't bothering paying attention to "Whatever those two dumbasses were doing", felt Narancia touching his head from behind with the chair. "What the hell do you want now?!" "Move your butt a little, or I can't make this thing fit here" "So what? That's not my problem, put it somewhere el-"

Before he could finish his sentence, something else pushed him aside, almost making him fall from his chair: it was Trish's Spice Girl, who gave a thumbs up to her master before disappearing. "ARE YOU HIGH OR SOMETHING? Why are you so damn excited about this whole thing?!" He said, nervously picking up a wrinkled piece of paper from the table, and scrapping it to smaller pieces, as a way to calm himself. "Why?! Oh...Excuse me, but being surrounded by SIX BOYS gets lame after a while. Thank you, by the way~" Narancia giggled, trying not to let Fugo notice, hearing someone talking back to the blonde like that was satisfying. He put the chair down, and sat once again.

"Cut her some slack, the little girl just wants someone to talk with about all that cheesy stuff" "I'm talking to you as well, Narancia" "Oh? Sorry, I can't hear ya, I'm WAYYYYY too invested in this homework that you've given me" He took the pencil that had rolled under the table after falling from his pocket, then went back to stare at his own piece of paper, having no clue of what to do next with the operations in front of him. Seeing him struggle, Eleonora felt the need to step in, she couldn't stand watching someone having troubles with school work, it was one of the few things she considered herself actually good at. However, her attempt didn't go as she hoped it would have had.

"Uhm...Please, forgive me for interfering, but maybe I could-" "Narancia is ok, he doesn't need your help for something as basic as this, he's not a child"

Fugo brutally cut her off, impeding her from even pointing out a single wrong calculus. She immediately looked away, feeling bad for the older boy, but knowing well that if she insisted, she would have put him in troubles as well. "O-ok...I'm sorry"

Trish, who was sitting on her right, whispered to her ear, making sure that the boy in green couldn't hear her. "Hey, don't let Fugo intimidate you, just let them do their things, don't worry about them for now" "But...Narancia was being so nice to me...I wanted to pay him back" "You'll do it another time, it's better like this, trust me" She sighed, feeling disappointed for not being able to do more. She tried to put that thought aside and focus on the other, eventually managing to distract herself a little.

Giorno sat at the table as well, observing the scene like it was a theatrical spectacle. He couldn't help but smile seeing her already bonding with someone, and in reality, he had already imagined that something similar would have happened, he was very familiar with Trish's discontent about being the only female member of the group. Similar to him, Bucciarati also saw it as an opportunity to analyse the newcomer, seeing her interactions with the others was fundamental in his eyes, he would have had other opportunities to talk to her directly.

Abbacchio was silently sipping some tea, all that noise was hurting his head, and he couldn't stand the thought of 'having to look after another one of those things'.

That damn brat...It was bad enough when Bruno brought here random children from the streets, but this is simply ridiculous. I swear if he wasn't the Boss, I'd-

"Abbacchio, you alright? What are you thinking about?" Mista said, swinging an hand in front of his face, making him snap out of those spiteful thoughts and bringing him back to reality. "None of your business" He simply answered, staring at his half-empty teapot. "Nice as always, I see" "What do you want?" "Are you...Uh...Planning on giving her the 'Giorno treatment'?" "...No, not this time"

At first sight, one would think that the man was the kind of person that wouldn't let nothing nor no one intimidate him, and while that was mostly true, it couldn't always be like this. He knew his limits, his place, and most importantly, he knew better than to directly mess with someone under Giorno's protection. While everyone treated him like a normal member of the team, Abbacchio thought that it was better to play it safe.

"But that doesn't mean that I'm just going to sit here and watch" "Uh? What do you mean?" He put his earphones down, turning in her direction with a killer look.

"Kid, let me ask you something"

His deep voice caught everyone off guard, nobody expected him to speak up out of the blue. Everyone knew the drill about Abbacchio and his behavior towards the 'newest member', but sadly, it was something that you had to endure if you wanted to become a part of them.

The brunette knew about this too, and most importantly, she knew about the way he treated Giorno when he first joined the squad. With a neutral expression, she stared back at him.

"...Yes?" "Why did you come here? What did you expect to find? Are you planning on fighting? Putting your life on the line?"

She hesitated for a brief moment, unsure of how to answer. Was this a test? She had already thought beforehand that he would have tried to put her under pressure, but she assumed that it would have been something a bit more...Explicit. On the other hand, due to her...Ahem...Introduction, perhaps it made more sense like this, he wanted to see if she could talk back to him, she couldn't let them walk all over her.

"That is...Something that I'm willing to do" She replied. The Albino let out a small laugh, shaking his head slightly. " 'Willing to do'? I don't think you understood how things work around here, brat. It's not something 'optional', this is our normality, people respect us, because we make them respect us, because we scare them. But you? You couldn't even scare a child with that baby face. I really hope that you're going to change this behavior of yours, or else...Your little heart might break, both literally and figuratively"

"Abbacchio, I think that's enou-" Bruno tried to interfere, but he was stopped by Giorno, who put an hand on his shoulder. "Bucciarati wait, let's see what happens first, give her the chance to defend herself" He concluded, with a stoic expression.

"My...Little heart?" Eleonora began, moving her bang to the side. "I'm n-not nearly as strong as any of you...Do you think I don't know that? But if Giorno recognised me as a worthy member of the team, it means that I've earned my place here, I think. I'm...D-Disposable, but I want to change, is that good enough for you? She put her right elbow on the table, clenched her hand into a fist and rested her cheek on it. "Sorry if I'm not scary enough to wear dark makeup and clothes at any hour of the day"

The whole table went silent for an entire minute, as the girl with the chemise felt everyone's eyes on her. She hadn't even realized she's talked so much, and that she probably shouldn't have added that last comment. It was a bad habit of her, when she got carried away, she'd end up forgetting to pay attention to what she was saying, without thinking about the words that came out of her mouth.

A small "oof" could be heard coming from Narancia's direction, as Mista and Trish tried to contain their laughter. Bruno's face looked like one of a worried mother after hearing her child swear for the first time, while Fugo just sat there with an expression of slight shock. Giorno was smiling in a smug way, the scene reminded him of how everyone reacted after "his own test".

The most surprising one, however, was Abbacchio's reaction. He didn't look pissed, not in the slightest; he was wearing a provocative smirk, and his arms were crossed.

"Oh yeah? Is the kitty trying to get his claws out? How terrifying...Buona fortuna ragazzina, ne avrai bisogno" He put his earphones back on, acting like nothing had happened.

Narancia patted her on the shoulder, smiling satisfied.

"Dude, what in the world was that?!" "I'm s-sorry...I kinda lost track of my words...A-and-" "Girl, chill a little! We're not mad at ya, he always acts like an a**hole with the newcomers" Trish added, pointing one of her finger in his direction, before winking at her. "And let me say something, you've got some guts talking back to a dude like him in that way" "B-but I..."

Their conversation was cut off by the waiter, obviously looking distressed for having to serve such group of people. "F-Forgive me for interrupting, but would you like me to bring you the bill?" "Yes, thank you" Bruno replied.

After they were done paying for everything, they quickly left the place with the intention of heading back home. Bucciarati loved that restaurant, he had lunch there with his companions almost everyday, but he hated to remain there after he was done eating. He didn't think it was respectful to occupy a sit that he didn't need anymore, while somebody else actually did. What he didn't know, was that no one ever sat at their table, even when they weren't there. It was a silent agreement that it was their place, nobody would even consider "taking it away from them".

"Well...I'd say that this new arrival went surprisingly well. Things are usually a bit more...Lively around here, wouldn't you guys agree?" He commented, opening the front door, as the rest rapidly followed him outside. "I must say that you're right, Bruno, but that doesn't surprise me. Eleonora has always been a calm person, ever since I've known her, her introduction to all of you couldn't have been much different" Giorno responded, when he noticed that the girl was shyly walking at the end of the group, quite far away from him, who was leading the way. "Would you mind walking next to me? I'd prefer to keep you under my watch" He said to her, turning his head a little. "Ah, uhm...Of course! I'm sorry...I thought it was fair for me to stay here behind, since... Well..."

She interrupted the sentence there, realizing that it was probably for the best not to finish it, she didn't want to bring herself down too much in front of the others. She quietly walked up to him, luckily the sidewalk was wide enough for her to move without accidentally bumping into anyone else.

"I'm sorry if I'm stating the obvious but...We're heading to your house, right?" "Precisely, it's not far away from here, we should reach it in a couple of minutes" "I...I see. Uhm...Would it be okay if I went to my hotel after all of you arrive home? I'd like to pick up some of my...Well...Properties" "Of course, but perhaps I should accompany you" "T-there's no need to! I remember the way...I hope"

One could see from miles away that she had no idea of how to go back to that building, but that wasn't the only reason why Giorno didn't want her to go alone. He didn't feel safe letting her wander on her own in a city like this, she still had a lot to learn, and she might have gotten into troubles, people around there...Weren't always honest as they may have seemed at first.

In no time, they reached their destination. The villa that erected in front of her was even more majestic than how she had imagined it in her mind. It was a two-storey house, with white walls and a roof made of glass and wood. It was surrounded by an immense backyard; while it couldn't be seen clearly, the young one could already spot some fruit trees, small flower beds and bushes. A multitude of windows revealed certain areas of the house, but it was almost impossible to see through them, as they were too high for one to reach them. The front door was decorated with some golden and green ornaments, it seemed wide enough to allow two people to pass through it at the same time. Its boundary was defined by a white railing, with some colourful stains of...Something... scattered here and there, they were probably someone's doing.

"Well, here we are" The boy with green eyes commented, tilting his head to look at Eleonora's face. Her expression exuded an aura of wonder and incredulity, her eyes shined brightly with excitement, and a smile was printed on her lips.

"Look at your face, I've never seen you look like this before" His words didn't reach her for how amazed she was, she felt like time had stopped flowing for a few seconds. "So, what do you think?" He put an hand on her shoulder, remembering her of the world around. "I...D-Don't know what to say...It's just...It's so...Breathtaking" "It's alright to be nervous, we all were when we first arrived here. Take your time, I know that a new territory can be threatening"

The girl took a step forward the mansion. "Do you think...I could really belong here?" "You can, and you already do, you don't need to doubt it even for a second"

Seeing such genuine and pure happiness on her face was not something to take for granted, he wanted to cherish it as much as he could.

"Benvenuta nella squadra"

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scorpionyx9621 · 4 years ago

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I Hope Hopeless Changes Over Time: A Red Hood and Batman Fic

*Source of the image I found off of Pintrest. I tried to find the original artist but the link on Pintrest led to a dead Tumblr account. If anyone wants to find/point out the account to me so I can give proper credit to the artist please please do.*

I wanted to make a fic based on an ask I did from the lovely @dilfbatman about Jason and Bruce. I hope people enjoy this mini-fic that I've expanded upon.

TW: Blood, Physical Assault, Suicide Ideation, Swearing. Bruce being a shitty father but trying. Jason having demons

3.75K words.

Bruce was uneasy about Jason staying over at the Wayne Mansion. Even with other members of the family around. Jason has done so much wrong and has hurt so many people. However, at the end of the day, Jason still is his son. So when he gets a call from Jason in a hushed voice asking Bruce to stay the night. He hesitated for a second, but acquiesced, Jason was nothing if not independent, so to be asking Bruce outright to stay at the Wayne Manor meant something was wrong.

"Master Jason wouldn't reach out to any of us unless something was gravely wrong, Master Wayne." Alfred had reassured Bruce, who was staring absentmindedly at the glass case which housed Jason's old Robin costume. The costume that Jason had died in. Bruce always tried to repress the memory of holding his son's cold, lifeless body. The pain he felt from losing his parents burned in his heart as an everlasting stab wound. But the pain from losing Jason, his son, it was too much to bare.

"I'd be welcoming to Master Jason, but keep your distance. Master Damian is spending the night at Jon Kent's house, Master Richard is in Blüdhaven, and Master Timothy is with the Teen Titans tonight. I'll rest assured Jason doesn't try anything to harm you. But don't try to encourage a confrontation." Alfred explained. He always seemed to understand Jason to a tee after he came back to life.

"I don't know how you do it Alfred, you can read the boy like a book." Bruce had retorted. Cocking a half-smile to the man who raised him since his parents died.

"Master Wayne, Master Jason wears his heart on his sleeve. He always has. And one of the reasons why you two fight constantly is because, for as terrific as a detective you are, you are horrifically inept in reading the emotions of your children." Alfred had stated, those words bit Bruce. He wasn't expecting such sharp words from Alfred. "We failed Master Jason. And he's hurt, he's been hurt for years because of it. However he keeps choosing to come back and try and trust again. We needn't come at him with accusations of ulterior motives, but we should be supportive." Alfred stated.

"But cognizant of what Jason is capable of." Bruce added back. Jason may need help, but he's still dangerous. He has tried to kill Bruce and the rest of the Robins multiple times. He wants to trust Jason and warm up to him again. But the man who wears the Red Hood and stalks the streets of Gotham killing those he deems criminals is not his son anymore.

Alfred and Bruce greeted Jason as he walked in the large double doors of the Wayne Manor. The first thing Bruce noticed was the dark circles under Jason's eyes. It seemed as if the man hadn't slept in days. Jason was wearing sweatpants and a fitted black wife beater, accentuating his muscles. Jason would have looked more intimidating had his body language not suggested he was as disheveled as he was, physically and mentally.

"Thanks Alfred." Jason had said meekly towards the butler. He took one step into the mansion and looked at Bruce. Bruce noticed as soon as Jason's eyes met his, his tired irises contorted into anger. His lips pursed downwards but Jason chose not to say anything. Instead just walking past Bruce pretending not to acknowledge him.

"Master Jason, you will be staying in the guest suite on the main floor. I've already prepped everything for your arrival. Please make yourself at home." Alfred had said. Jason just shook is head as he headed towards the hallway leading the guest suite. Bruce didn't notice it immediately but the stench Jason had emitted stung in the air. It smelled like stale liqour and body oder. It seems Jason hadn't bathed in days. Bruce had wanted to say something but chose not to.

The evening went by quietly enough. Jason had taken a shower and changed into another fitted wife beater but still sported a tired energy about him. Alfred had put together a beef pot roast for dinner with red potatoes, carrots, onions, and celery over garlic mashed potatoes. A favorite dish of Jason's. The three of them ate quietly as Bruce continued to size up his son. He was conflicted. At one point he saw the man who blew up the head of a Gotham security force member with a torture decide he had created. On the other hand, he saw the boy who would beg for Bruce to buy him more books after he finished the maximum amount a library card would allow for a week in the span of 3 days. The son who told him being Robin gave him magic.

The dinner ended as it began. With awkward silence and the father-son duo eyeing each other. One with cautious trepidation and the other with abject hate. Bruce had decided not to go on patrol tonight as he felt he needed to be at the manor should anything happen while Jason was here. An uneasy sense of dread built over Bruce as he had said good night to Jason as the two passed by each other in the halls. Jason simply spat 'Bitch' at Bruce and walked into the bedroom. Bruce had been bad with other people's emotions, but something didn't sit right with the way Jason was carrying himself. He had decided to stay up tonight regardless. A sense came over him after being sworn at by Jason. A sense he hadn't felt in a long time. He felt as though his son needed help.

————————————————————

"You're a monster"

"Jason is a murderer"

"Stay away from Jason, he'll kill you."

"No one wants you around, Todd"

"You're just a good guy trying to be bad"

"This is the kid you had to replace me with as Robin? Bruce he's pathetic."

"I can't believe my daughter wasted the Lazarus Pit on a miserable failure like you."

"Maybe I'd be better off dead"

Jason tossed and turned. It's been days. He couldn't get the voices out of his head. Those whispery, moany voices that taunted and tormented him. He knew it was a result of the Lazarus Pit. Ever since Roy died and everyone left him the voices started taunting him again. He tried everything he could to get the voices to stop. He drank, he read, he worked out, he did everything he could. The only way the voices became quiet were when he was beating the ever-loving shit out of some criminals. This was not the mindset Jason had wanted. He wanted to go back to being supported by Bruce, the man who betrayed him. He knew that Bruce was weak. He couldn’t kill the Joker because of his weakness.

Jason got up and walked over to the connecting bathroom to the suite that he was staying in. He went to the sink and splashed some cold water on his face. Against his better judgement, Jason looked up to the figure he saw in the mirror. He took note of his jawline, his face, his green eyes, his muscles.. but one thing that caught his eye was the fucking skunk streak of hair at the top of his head. The physical reminder of his dip in the Lazarus Pit. He had just re-dyed the spot not two days ago and it already came back. He did everything he could to try to hide the streak. It’s what he hated most about his new body. The pit wiped away all of the scars he had on his body. And any new fresh scar or wound would just fade in a matter of moments due to the effects of the pit. The only thing that ever stayed was that damned streak.

Jason had nothing but disgust and contempt for the man he saw in the mirror, which, ironically, was himself.

“You’re just using the sarcasm to hide your hatred.”

“It’s your fault that everyone hates you.”

“Killing the sick of the masses to save those who are weak is your calling”

“Those reptiles deserve to die”

“I don’t want to kill unless I don’t have to.. I don’t want people to hate me..” Jason tried reassuring himself. The voices in his head kept getting louder and louder. “I want Bruce and everyone to love me again....” He continued to try to re-assure himself. It was a false sense of hope as always. His mind soon wandered to a moment where he was on top of Dick in a fight. Confronting his older sibling and reciting a quote he had heard from a Japanese philosopher and optimist as he had the barrel of a gun placed against his older brother’s temple.

“Do you know what the most convenient phrase in the world is, Dickie? It’s ‘I’m sorry.’ Anyone who hears that is obligated to forgive, no matter how hurt or angry they might be... There's no more disgusting phrase in all the world. It's used to displace your suffering unto others so you can escape your sins... The moment you employ it, your suffering becomes the other person's. A thing can be unforgivable, but oh, if they apologize... I say there's no reason to accept that suffering. You don't have to forgive them. Cast aside the mask of your conscience.“

“Stop this. Please stop this.” Jason had begged aimlessly into the air. He didn’t want to live like this anymore. He didn’t want to live, period. He just wanted all of this to end. He had caused so much pain and so much suffering to the people of Gotham all so he could attempt to hurt Bruce. But those words kept repeating in his head. He knew he had to stop this. He needed help, he wanted to go to Bruce and explain what was going on but Bruce would just have him institutionalized. His murderer of a son starts hearing voices in his head? A one way ticket to a padded room.

Jason suddenly stared back into the mirror and saw something he detested. The green eyes that stared into his soul. The one he hated more than anything else. Was himself. This thing was staring him in the face mocking him, and he wanted it gone.

“Do it Jason.” the voice had beckoned from the mirror. “Kill them all. Slit Damian’s throat and watch the fucker bleed. Bash Tim’s stupid face into the concrete until there’s nothing but mush. Rip Dick limb from fucking limb. Watch Bruce as you choke the last bit of life from his eyes. I promise all the pain will go away once all of this is done.” the voice sounded almost sweet as it promised to do all of this. Jason just retched as he saw the green eyed monster promising poison to him. He felt his vision fade to black.

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

STOP IT. SHUT. UP.

*CRASH*

Bruce had jumped up from the chair he was sitting on in the library, the voice came from the suite that Jason was staying in. Bruce didn’t have time to think. He just ran towards the noise. He threw the door to the suite open and ran to the bathroom. There he saw Jason in front of a heavily cracked mirror. Jason was hyperventilating and he saw blood oozing from Jason’s fist which was pressed against the mirror. Bruce saw from the reflection that Jason had split open the left side of his lip seemingly from a shard of glass. It wasn’t long before Jason glanced up at the imposing shadow in the mirror and noticed Bruce’s presence.

“YOU STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM ME BRUCE.” Jason had shouted at his reflection. Jason was shaking. Bruce had wanted to assess the injury that Jason gave himself. But he knew he was cornering a scared animal if he pressed any farther forward. Bruce stood their frozen. Pondering between trying to press forward upon a killer, or to check up on his son.

“Jason, I just...” Bruce was cut off by another scream as Jason turned around.

“IF YOU COME ANY CLOSER I SWEAR TO GOD I WILL KILL YOU WHERE YOU FUCKING STAND YOU PIECE OF SHIT.” Bruce finally got the cue. The hitch in Jason’s voice. This is the same hitch his voice made when he was a kid and was angry at Bruce. Alfred was right. This is his son. And right now Bruce needed not to be the Batman approaching the Red Hood. He needed to be Bruce, to help his son.

Bruce walked forward to Jason, still shaking as blood oozed from the gashes of glass on his fist. Bruce decided against everything in his gut telling him to stop this criminal. This monster who killed for sport and to prove a point. He needed to help Jason, his son.

Bruce was knocked back by a fist to his chest. Glass imbedded itself into Bruce as he felt the sting of their shards. Jason was right, he was going to hurt Bruce if he approached. Oracle was right, Jason had been abusing venom. The quick gain in muscle mass was proof enough but the stinging pain in Bruce’s chest also proved that hypothesis. Jason barred his teeth as his eyes displayed a seething hatred. Bruce would have been frightened on any other day. Today, Bruce felt a feeling he hadn’t felt in a long time. Bruce collected himself and got up to approach Jason again.

“I TOLD YOU I’M GOING TO KILL YOU BRUCE. I FUCKING HATE YOUR GUTS. I WANT YOU TO DIE. I WANT ALL OF US TO JUST FUCKING DIE.” Jason screamed even louder this time. A hot stream of tears worked their way down Jason’s cheeks. Bruce no longer saw a rage-induced monster but the boy who took a tire iron to his gut on the streets of Gotham. The boy who would was thrilled at every opportunity he got to show Bruce the A’s on every test he got in school. This was his baby boy who needed his help.

“Jason Peter Todd that’s enough.” Bruce said firmly, but not harshly. Jason stared directly into his eyes. “Jason. I want you to listen to me.”

“Go to hell you motherfucker.” those words which escaped Jason were laced with poison. Bruce didn’t waver.

“You can punch me as much as you want Jason and I’ll deserve all of it.” Bruce came closer to Jason. Jason proceeded to physically make himself smaller. Like a scared animal. Bruce remember what he did to Jason after he had seemingly killed The Penguin. How he beat Jason to within an inch of his life. His heart plummeted to his stomach as he saw Jason cower like a scared dog over his approach.

“What are you going to do Bruce, beat me to a fucking pulp again? You hate me more than you hate the fucking Joker, don’t you?” Jason asked. Bruce truly saw the fear in those green eyes. He had to take a moment and realized just what he was doing. He unclenched his jaw and relaxed his shoulders as he approached Jason. This time he was back within striking range of his son.

“Jason. I failed you. I have been failing you for the past 10 years since your death. I have failed this city and this family in providing the protection it needs. I couldn’t kill The Joker because I’m weak.” Bruce sucked at emotions and emoting. But Bruce hadn’t felt this shaky and wavering since the day he lost Jason. His son needed to know the truth. He deserved to know the truth. “Jason I never hated you. I hated the actions you have taken against the people of this city. But I’ve come to realize that the hatred and contempt I’ve held is because you do what I can’t do.”

“Oh so now you’re coming over to apologize? I don’t owe you shit after what you’ve done to me.” Jason had stated. He may have been acting like a pinned animal. But his mouth will never not cut like knives.

“Jason, when we had fought in the abandoned apartment. And you had the Joker with you. You had tried to shoot me after I had turned away from you.” Bruce said. Inching ever closer to Jason while trying not to be imposing. “In that moment, I threw the batarang because I knew you were going to retaliate against me. But I need you to know in that moment I turned away. I turned away because I decided I wasn’t to be the one to decide the Joker’s fate. He had taken your life and it wasn’t up to me to decide. I want nothing more than for the Joker to pay for the countless lives hes taken and ruined.” Bruce swallowed hard as he felt tears beginning to well in his eyes. “I failed you because I couldn’t kill the Joker. But in that moment, I wanted nothing more than to have my baby boy back. I wanted you back in my life. I still want you back in my life.”

“Bullshit. Fucking BULLSHIT.” Jason spat at Bruce. The emotions were flooding out of his face. Anger, hatred, fear, but most of all sadness. Jason’s voice began wavering as he began to cry. “If you loved me why in the fuck have you never realized I’ve been trying to help the people of Gotham. Instead every time I take matters into my own hands all I meet are your fucking fists. I hate your guts Bruce. We’d all just be better off fucking dead. It’s all Hopeless. I’m hopeless.”

Bruce took a deep breath. He tried to find his resolve. He wanted nothing more than to be able to reach out to his son again. “You’re absolutely right Jason. I’ll bet Gotham would be a whole lot better without me. Without the pain I have caused. And no amount of apologies will fix the pain that I have caused you. No words will ever take back the transgressions I have taken against you.” Bruce was crying this time. “But know this. You always have been my son. And I love you so much. The day I lost my parents was agony. The day I lost you, I felt like I had lost myself I felt I had died a bit inside.” Bruce choked out. “We both have done so much we regret. If I could take back all the times I hit you I would do it in a heartbeat. But no amount of sorry will take back that pain. I shouldn’t be in the position to be asking this. But I just want my son back.” Bruce swallowed. “You have every right to hate me, but I will never stop loving you. You aren’t hopeless and you never have been. You never have been a burden. You are valued by so many people. I. I love you my son. I love you Jason."

Jason’s face relaxed from a position of contempt and hatred and soon was overcome with years of pent up tears. Jason let out a hearty scream as he proceeded to weep and sob. As if a dam had broke and was threatening to engulf a town in an apocalypse. Bruce went against everything he had known and was screaming from the inside of his body and wrapped Jason in a hug. He was almost as large as Bruce himself and barely fit around his arms. But Bruce held his son and hugged him tight. Jason was crying uncontrollably.

“I’m hearing these voices. They’re telling me I’m a monster and a killer and that I should kill all of you.” Jason shouted between sobs. “But I don’t want to. I’m so afraid Bruce. I don’t want to hurt anyone unless I have to.”

“Just breath Jason. I’m here. I’m not going anywhere. Let it all out.” Bruce had solidified his resolve and worked on being there for Jason. He couldn’t run away this time. His son needed him more than ever. And Gotham be damned. He’s not making this mistake twice. He’s staying here. For Jason.

It felt like hours before Jason had run out of tears and sobs. Jason was fading and seemed like he was about to fall asleep. The shards of glass that were imbedded in his hand seemingly prevented Jason from bleeding out. Bruce had saw Jason’s eyes glaze over as his breathing calmed.

“Jason, I’m going to pick you up and take you to bed.” Bruce had said, asking for permission from his second son. Jason simply nodded as he starred off. He was numb now. The pain seemingly gone for the moment. Bruce lifted Jason up and was taken aback by just how heavy his son was. He truly was 225lbs just like his records showed. This wasn’t the son who hid under the cabinets when Bruce first brought Jason home. But Bruce still saw the boy as his son nonetheless. As Bruce laid Jason on the bed Alfred had approached with a first aid kit. Proceeding to begin to clean up Jason’s hand. Jason was so exhausted he barely felt any of the picking and pulling or the iodine going into his wounds. He kept his eyes fast forward on Bruce.

“Bruce. I. I’m sorry.” Jason had said meekly.

“Don’t apologize Jason.” Bruce had stated. He ran his hand through Jason’s hair, giving a soft massage to his scalp. “You get some sleep now. I don’t think you’ve rested in days.”

Bruce had remembered the time he had read Jason to sleep. This time he had thought back to a poem that struck him from his phone. It was from a famous lyricist and singer. As Bruce pulled up his phone he had found the poem and recited it as Jason fell asleep. Things are far from perfect or even better. But tomorrow was going to be the first day of the rest of his and Jason’s lives.

“They told me once, ‘there's a place where love conquers all’

A city with the streets full of milk and honey

I haven't found it yet, but I'm still searching

All I know is a hopeless place that flows with the blood of my kin

Perhaps hopeless isn't a place

Nothing but a state of mind”

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pHEW GOD THAT WAS LONG. I hope you all enjoyed the fic! This was my first published attempt at angst and whump and while I feel some parts are cringe. I am proud of what I made.

Big thanks again to @dilfbatman for inspiring this fic. The inspiration of the title is the song Hopeless: by Halsey. The quote about I’m Sorry is from the character Shadow Maya Amano from Persona 2: Innocent Sin. And the poem at the end is the first part of the lyrics to the song Good Mourning by Halsey.

#Jason Todd #Red Hood #Bruce Wayne #Batman #Whump #Angst #Hurt/comfort #Non-ship #Bruce being a good father #Jason trying his best #Jason getting the rest he deserves #The two have gone through so much but they can get help #TW Blood #TW Physical abuse #TW Swearing

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quentinbecks · 3 years ago

Text

Summary: Charlie left Hope County years ago hoping never to come back. But when she learns of her parents involvement with the local doomsday cult, she finds herself heading back to a life she thought she left behind. (Begins two years before the reaping/events of the game)

Words: 5 k

Warnings: The typical lack of boundaries from the Seeds, slight use of violence, mentions of violence and death, peer pressure to use drugs (bliss), and this is a big one, lots of talk of anxiety/ build up to a panic attack.

A/N: Thank you so much to @adelaidedrubman and @johnnycranes for being my betas/second and third eyes on this! And to @smut-goblin for hitting me with the writing stick! You have no idea how much I appreciate you guys 💕 Since the atonement process begins now, hopefully I can start putting these out in a timely manner from here on out.

Chapter 4: Snakes in the Garden

“We’ll begin the process of atonement immediately.”

Charlie glances up at the man through her lashes. She should be trying to run away; pushing his hands off of her face, but she can’t. Frozen in place with John’s hands cupping her cheeks; their foreheads pressed together. From this angle she can see all the freckles that adorn his neck and collarbone. It almost makes him seem human.

“I thought,” she stammers, “I thought I was just getting baptized. That’s what we agreed to.”

John sighs, pulling away to look down at her; hands still gripping her face. “You will be cleansed, you will confess all of your sins, and then you will atone. That’s the only way you can reach true salvation. And you did just promise me you would allow me the gift of saving you,” he grits out, the hold on her face getting tighter as he goes on.

Charlie squirms away, attempting to free herself without making matters worse. “You’re hurting me,” she hisses as she grabs a hold of his hands. She may be willing to play along with his mind games; keep up whatever foolish charade she needs to to stay safe, but she draws the line at having pain inflicted on her.

The Baptist just nods as he backs away, hands held up as if to show her he won’t touch her.

Too fucking late.

But there was no apology, and Charlie can’t really say she’s surprised. “Listen,” she says as she leans against the brick wall, fingers rubbing the spots where her face was held, “you can have my soul or my salvation or whatever the fuck it is you want. But what happens to me afterwards?”

If she’s being honest, Charlie is afraid of the answer. Does she get to have a normal life? Just one within the parameters of the cult’s rules? Will they force her to marry another member of the project in one of those giant, mass weddings like the Moonies? Or will they just kill her? It’s selfish and would be a great betrayal to her friends, but she would marry The Father himself if it meant keeping them safe.

John sighs, sitting on the couch, legs crossed and arms spread across the back; posture too casual for such a tense environment. “I think it’s best we take the process day by day.”

Charlie glares at the man, only receiving a chuckle in return as he notices her olive eyes fill with rage. “Relax, sweetheart. I won’t send you back up to the mountains; back up to my big, bad, brother.”

Sitting down in the chair across from him, Charlie wills herself to calm down. The shock of the situation is starting to wear off rapidly and she can feel the panic inside her start to rise just as fast.

“Can we at least discuss the immediate future? Like, me going home?”

“What,” John teases, a hint of faux sadness in his voice, “you don’t like it here?”

Not really she thinks. But she would rather not vocalize her thoughts; too tired from all of the youngest Seed’s threats and games. She’s pretty sure she’ll combust from stress if she has to stay at the ranch a moment longer.

“Haven’t you had enough fun tormenting me for one day. I’m just,” her voice shakes and she can feel her heart start to pound; her anxiety starting to make itself known, “not in the mood for this shit. Please. Just let me go home.”

Charlie wishes she could kick her own ass at this very moment. Uncomfortable with becoming so emotional in front of John, but there was only so long that false sense of bravado and heroism could last. But the sight of his guest on the verge of a nervous breakdown does seem to have an effect on the man.

“Wait here.” He says, standing up and heading towards the door. He turns back before stepping out to look at her. “Don’t leave before I get back.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it.”

John just gives her a smirk before leaving. Flopping back onto the chair with a sigh, Charlie closes her eyes. She’s sure trying to take a power nap in a herald’s house is just asking for trouble, but she’s too exhausted to care.

She’s barely relaxed for more than thirty seconds when the door bursts open causing her to jump.

“Charlene, this is Deanna. She’ll be taking you back.”

“What about you?” Charlie cringes inwardly at herself. Now she knows she really needs to get out of here, the environment is clearly taking a toll on her sanity quicker than she anticipated.

A faint smile creeps across John’s lips before he rights himself. “Don’t worry. Deanna is one of my most trusted chosen.”

Charlie takes in the woman she’s being handed off to. She’s not much older than her, tall, tan, and athletic. She can tell by the excited grin on the chosen’s face that the other woman will most likely get on her nerves.

“Hello, sister,” Deanna says with a wave.

“We’re not quite there yet.”

“Here,” John drops a white hardcover on her lap. “Try to read this before your baptism.”

Charlie thumbs through the book curiously. She may not have had any sort of religious education, but she’s pretty sure this isn’t the traditional Christian text.

“Is this a bible?”

“It’s the Book of Joseph.” The chosen chirps from across the room. “It shows us the hardships the Father went through and how God spoke to him and showed him the path; the path that would save us all from the Collapse.”

“Sounds enlightening.”

“It is.” John is behind her now, hands on her shoulders. “But as much as I would love to keep you here to continue this conversation, I thought you wanted to leave.”

Charlie recoils at his usage of the word “keep”. She can’t see the man, but she’s sure he’s wearing an arrogant smirk; a smirk that she would happily slap off of his face if she wasn’t trying to behave.

Nodding, she gets up. “Thank you for the talk. It’s been… eye-opening.”

John leans over the chair as he beams at her. “I’m just glad you agreed to let me,” he pauses as if he’s contemplating his words, “work with you.”

“Well, you didn’t leave me with much of a choice. Certain death or,” she gestures towards him, “you. And I like being alive, thank you very much.”

Charlie doesn’t bother to wait for a response, pushing past the chosen and out the door to wait on the steps. She doesn’t need to wait very long as Deanna follows after her almost immediately. “My truck’s down there,” the woman points down the driveway to an old, white pickup with a black Eden’s Gate sigil on the hood.

Following silently behind the other woman, she tries to catch her breath. Relax, she chants to herself internally. In only twenty minutes you’ll be safe. Charlie tells herself she can do this as she gets in the car. All she has to do is wait a few, short minutes and she can scream and cry as much as she wants to.

The car ride is silent for the most part and Charlie is glad for it. Until about halfway to her parent’s house when the chosen turns to look at her nervously. “So,” she pauses, chewing on her lip, “are you excited to be joining the project?”

Charlie gives her a snort in response. Leaning her head against the glass, she closes her eyes. “That’s an overstatement.”

“Well, I’m thrilled to have you here. I really like your mom.” Deanna gives her a grin before turning back to the road. “And besides, we don’t have many young women. It’ll be nice to have a friend.”

Friend Charlie scoffs. “Let’s just take this day by day,” she says, repeating the exact phrase John used on her earlier.

She’s relieved to see her parent’s house come into view as they turn the bend. Grabbing onto the handle, the young woman prepares to jump out the minute the truck pulls into the drive.

Charlie goes to shut the door when Deanna calls out to her. “I know you’re scared or angry or whatever it is you’re feeling, but I’m happy you’re here. Maybe we’ll even get to work at the ranch together.”

“Yeah. Maybe.” Slamming the door closed, Charlie heads towards the house. She looks back to watch the chosen back out. Once she’s absolutely sure she’s gone, Charlie heads to the bunker in the backyard.

Clutching The Book of Joseph that hasn’t left her hands since she left John’s house, she climbs down the ladder. Charlie gags once she’s inside the bunker, the musty air that hits her makes her think that it’s been years since anyone has been down there.

She barely makes it to the couch before her breath becomes labored, adding to her already rising blood pressure. Tossing the book on the sofa she begins to pace around the room. What is she supposed to do? How is she supposed to explain this to Eli? Will Mary May even trust her again after this?

Letting out a frustrated cry, Charlie slinks to the floor. She has to make them understand she’s doing this for them.

But are you really? Pops into her mind. She offered to join the project the moment she felt her life was in danger, not her friends. Protection for her friends only came as part of the bargain after she agreed to have her soul saved.

But is it really wrong to want to save yourself? To value your own life? Not really, she thinks. Trying not to dwell too hard on the guilt that’s eating at her, Charlie goes to pick up the radio she notices lying dusty and dormant on the desk.

Blowing the dust off, she turns the dials until she finds the channel that would reach Eli and the Wolf’s Den.

Pausing to sniffle, she presses down on the button to talk. “Hello? Eli? Tammy? Anyone? It’s Charlie.” She clears her throat awkwardly as she waits for a response. “Um, over?” She adds.

“Ya know, it’s not really necessary to say over.”

“I know, Wheaty, but no one was answering.”

Charlie can hear the younger man laugh into the microphone. “Well, ya gotta give us more than ten seconds to get to the radio, Charlie.”

“Patience has never been my strong suit.” Sighing, she bites her lip. Not sure of how to go about relaying the message about the mole in the militia; not even sure she should be telling them this. But, it’s the right thing to do. And it’s not like she made a promise to John about what she would do with the information either way.

“Is Eli around?”

“He’s out scoutin’ right now. Whatcha need?”

Charlie knows it’s not Wheaty who’s the betrayer, but she has a bad feeling about repeating the news over the airwaves.

“Is anyone else from the militia there?”

There’s a long pause over the line as she waits for the young militiaman’s answer.

“It’s just me and Tammy here. Why what’s wrong?”

Picking up the radio, Charlie goes to sit on the dilapidated couch. She takes in a deep breath, trying to quell the feeling in her gut that’s telling her she’s making a mistake.

“Tell them that there’s a snake in the garden. They snitched on me to the Seeds. They know I killed one of Jacob’s hunters and I-”

“Who is it? Are you at The Veteran’s Center?” Wheaty interrupts her. There’s a hitch in his breath as he asks his next question. “Did they take you?”

“No,” Charlie can feel tears start to fall and she digs her nails into her thigh to stop herself from openly showing her distress, “but I can’t come back to the Wolf’s Den anymore. That’s why I need you to report back to Eli, shit even Tammy, what I just told you.”

“But why-”

She lets out a deep sigh before cutting him off. “Can you just trust me? I’m trying to protect you. All I ask in return is you get rid of your rat infestation.”

Charlie waits, the static of the radio the only response.

“You got it.”

“Thanks, kid. I’ll see ya when I see ya.”

And with that she flicks off the power, unable to continue the conversation; unable to accept her newly minted fate.

Tossing the machine onto the ground, Charlie falls back onto the couch. She decides to spend the rest of her day inside the bunker, certain her parents won’t come searching for her here. She isn’t ready to hear the exuberance of her mother when she tells her the news of her joining the cult; if it was up to her she would have offered Charlie’s hand in marriage the moment she had stepped foot onto the compound.

Though, Christine has probably already found out if John was actually telling the truth about there being a meeting. She can’t bear to think about the two of them conspiring about her; about her future. It’s too much to deal with. The whole day has been too emotionally taxing for the young woman.

Charlie reaches behind her, picking up the stray Book of Joseph; her curiosity getting the better of her. She’s pretty sure the whole book will be monotonous; mundane monologues about their terrible childhoods. It’s the same bullshit with every cult leader. Regardless, she wants to find the juicy bits for future ammunition for the next time John Seed wants to throw jabs at her about her own youth. They’re alike, her ass.

Opening the book to a random page, Charlie settles in. Admittedly, the book is a hard read, both from Joseph’s unreliable narration and the abuse the two eldest Seeds regularly suffered. What catches her eye, though, are the bits of a young, barely more than a toddler, John being beaten; abuse so bad it forced the brothers into foster homes.

The new information forces Charlie to slam the book shut. She can’t help but feel guilt and pity for the man, all of them if she’s being honest, but especially John. She doesn’t know if these feelings are stemming from the parental neglect she suffered as a kid or if it’s because of her own desperate desire to become a mother; to be able to give a child a life she was deprived of. She doesn’t even know if any of this is actually; maybe it’s all a ploy for people like her to feel empathy for them.

Shaking her head, Charlie closes her eyes. Do not think of them as anything more than the monsters they are, she chides herself.

Curling up into a ball on the couch, she tries to relax; tries to clear her mind of all the dizzying emotions that came from today. After what feels like hours of breathing exercises and mantras to shut her brain off, she finally falls asleep.

The nightmare is the same as it is every night. Charlie finds herself being hunted through the Whitetails by one of Jacob’s red camo clad chosen. And just like always she kills them; just as it happened in real life. But this time, the outcome has changed.

It’s still her blood splattered face that’s exposed after the ski mask is ripped off, but the eyes staring back at her are no longer the hazel eyes of the recently deceased hunter. This time they’re sky blue; blue like the eye color shared by all of the male Seeds.

Charlie wakes up with a start. Heart racing wildly, she puts her palm over her chest in a vain attempt to calm it down.

“Fuck me.”

She’s no dream interpreter, but Charlie is definitely concerned this means something. Means that she’s become prey to the Seeds; that she’s become some sort of toy for them to play with at will. It’s distressing, especially since she’s worked for years to ensure she would never be in such a vulnerable position with men again. And now here she is; in the belly of the beast, but this time it’s worse. This time it’s with cult leaders rather than a gaslighting husband.

“I need a drink,” she mutters to herself as she sits up.

Charlie heads up to her parents house, the early summer sun blinding her as she exits the bunker. “Mom? Daddy?” she calls out once she’s made it back inside. The calls for her parents are met with dead silence.

Searching through rooms gives her no leads on where they could be until she finds a note plastered to the refrigerator.

“Princess,

Mammon and I will be out for most of the day. You can find your mother up at Black Horse Peak if there’s an emergency. I’ll be out fishing on the bay with a few friends from church. Both of us should be back by dinner time. Don’t get into any trouble while we’re gone, ma fille.

Love,

Papa”

Charlie sighs. She was hoping to not be alone after the nightmare she had, let alone the day she had previously. But, on the bright side now she has time to come up with a way to explain to her parents about her change of heart towards Eden’s Gate.

Deciding the best course of action would be to tell them over dinner; a dinner where she can spike her own drink to take the edge off. There’s no worries about them being disappointed or angry with her. No, she needs to drink to hide the disappointment in her own mother who will be delighted that her boss managed to break down her daughter into joining his family’s cult. In one day too. What a feat!

A couple hours pass with Charlie trying and failing to concoct a meal when there’s a knock at the door. Immediately going on guard since she wasn’t expecting any guests, she grabs a kitchen knife off the counter.

As she heads over to the door she peeks outside the window to see who her surprise visitor is. None other John Seed is standing there on her porch; a look of fury written all over his face.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” she says, slamming the knife down on the entrance table.

Opening the door with a bit of trepidation, Charlie begins to panic. Why would he come here when he could have just had her brought to him? Why come when she’s all alone? The normally well-coiffed Seed looks frazzled; his usual slick backed hair falling loosely in his face.

“What do you want?” she asks through the crack in the door. Instead of giving her a response, John pushes his way into the house.

“Oh, okay. Please, come inside,” Charlie grumbles as she slams the door shut.

She watches as John paces through the living room; watching as he runs a hand through his hair, letting out a dark chuckle as he does so. The situation started out unsettling and now it’s just flat out creeping her out.

“Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” John asks, finally looking up at her.

Charlie blinks at him trying to understand what she could have possibly done in the last twenty four hours to anger him this badly. And then it dawns on her. She told the Whitetails about the mole amongst them and she’s guessing Eli handled the problem.

Oops.

“What exactly did you expect me to do? Allow your brother to keep getting intel on my friends? So he could, what, pounce on them when the timing was right? I don’t think so.”

“No, you’re right.” He clears his throat before leaning against the wall, no longer manically pacing around the room, but calm and collected. “I trusted you too early; had hoped you would be grateful for the gift I’ve given you, but I see now I was mistaken. Instead, you would rather squander it and try and pull off these childish antics of yours.”

John pushes himself off the wall, slowly making his way towards her; the action preemptively making her back herself against the counter.

“But I’m not worried about it. And you know why?” He knocks on the table as he continues on.

Charlie shakes her head “no”, uncertainty over whether that was the right answer setting in.

“Because Joseph saw you walk through the Gates of Eden with us; with me. So, I know all of the trouble you’re putting us through will be worth it in the end. I just need you to recognize your purpose and start behaving.”

They’re so close now; too close for Charlie’s comfort. She puts a hand between them; her fingers lightly touching his torso. The touch makes her flinch, but after he put her face in a vice-like grip just the day before, she’s not letting him get that close again.

“Walking through the Gates of Eden? What does that even mean?” She furrows her brow, she’s pretty certain Joseph is just making up visions to have his brother keep her in line, nevertheless the possible euphemism unnerves her. “Is that like heaven? Are you here to commit a murder suicide?”

Charlie quickly realizes that that may be the wrong thing to say when she sees the scowl cross John’s face.

He leans in closer to her, forcing her makeshift barrier of her wrist to drop. “You are in no position to be making jokes, sweetheart”, the Baptist glares down at her. “Because you, Charlene, in less than three weeks have managed to get two of our chosen killed. One by your own hand and,” John looks down towards her lips, “and one by your big fucking mouth,” he hisses at her.

“Good.” Charlie shoves him away, trying to reclaim some of her personal space. “That last one snitched on me; took my life away from me. So I guess we’re even now. Eye for an eye. Isn’t that what you people believe in?”

“You know, you’re not nearly as clever as you think you are.” Sitting on their loveseat, John splays himself out as if he owns the place; the overly cocky attitude in full swing again.

Admittedly, Charlie does feel some guilt over the news of another chosen dead. There’s a part of her that’s curious about who they were in the militia, but the other part doesn’t need that on her conscience; not when the first death has been haunting her dreams nightly.

“Joseph entrusted me with your atonement; he still has faith that you’ll come around. Jacob still believes you deserve to be punished. Now I’m of two sides,” he says, leaning forward. “I believe you need to be reprimanded for this; for making some of the project’s best hunters spend their morning burying their friend. But death is too harsh.”

“What – what were you thinking of doin’?” Charlie stutters, her drawl starting to slip out.

“I was thinking of moving up your baptism. To tonight.”

“No!” Charlie all but yells as she marches over to where John is perched. “I – I haven’t even read your brother’s book yet! I don’t know what I’m getting myself into! I don’t even have anything to wear!”

She’s practically in between the man’s legs and she’s half tempted to bend down and scream in his face; make him feel as small as he constantly makes her feel. But it’s inappropriate and she immediately rights herself of the urge.

“None of that matters. All that matters to me is that you start the process soon.”

It dawns on Charlie that she should be questioning John on why he is so insistent on keeping her alive; what he meant by her walking through the Gates of Eden with him specifically. But a voice inside of her tells that she’s certain to find out sooner rather than later; and she might not like the answers she gets.

“Can I at least find something decent here to wear?”

“Yes, but,” John shifts uncomfortably, “I need you to keep the door open. I can’t trust you to not try and run.”

Charlie laughs as she heads into her parent’s room. “Where could I run to that you wouldn’t find me?”

She shuts the door a crack, partly out of habit, partly because she doesn’t want John watching her undress. The thought of him seeing her naked alone makes her grimace.

It takes her a few minutes, but she’s able to find something buried in the closet. It's pink and floral, not her usual color, but it’s a sundress and that’s all that matters to her. Pulling her shorts and cropped top off she watches in the mirror as John loiters around her family’s dining room.

Uncomfortable with the Baptist going through their belongings, she quickly pulls the dress on; tossing her honey brown hair into a ponytail.

“Excuse me?”

“Ah, you’re ready,” he says as he comes and leans on the doorframe to the bedroom. “Like I said earlier, I can’t trust you. So I need you to do me a favor before we can leave.” John pulls a flask from his jacket pocket, handing it over to her as if she’s just supposed to accept a drink from him.

“I thought you guys banned this shit? Too good for a stiff drink or two.”

“It’s not alcohol.”

Charlie scoffs. He wants to roofie her so she’ll behave; be a good girl for the Seeds. And he thinks she’s going to consent to this? Fuck that.

“Then I’m not drinking it. Not until you tell me what’s in it.” She has spent way too many years practicing drink safety to just take a drugged drink, even if the man giving it to her is warning her in advance.

“It’s bliss,” John says as if she would understand what that means. But he sees the confusion written all over her face. “It’s safe. You’ll be fine. It’ll keep you calm for a couple of hours. Enough to get you through the cleansing . And after that,” he smiles down at her, “we can work on building trust.”

“What if I say no?”

John’s smile turns sour suddenly, stepping forward to tuck a stray strand of hair behind her ear. “Like I said earlier, I’ll be forced to take your sins out the people you love the-“

“Okay, enough with the threats,” Charlie groans as she snatches the flask from his hands. “You’re a huge dick, ya know that?” She shoves past him, “a real pushy asshole.”

Uncapping the flask, she takes a sniff. It’s oddly sweet smelling. Maybe it won’t be so bad? She thinks to herself. John watches her intently as she puts the container to her lips. She can’t help but feel that he’s enjoying this too much.

The drink itself is bitter in spite of its fragrant scent. The taste makes her want to throw the flask across the room; then maybe projectile vomit afterwards. She manages to get a bit down before handing it off to John.

“I think I’m ready,” she says, trying to hold the bile in her throat down.

John nods, heading out the door. Charlie starts to feel nervous as she follows suite; afraid that she may pass out and be taken to God knows where to have God knows what done to her.

“Don’t worry about the door. I’ll have one of my chosen let your family know where you are so they can join us.”

“Okay,” she mumbles, allowing John to open the car door for her to get in.

Eli and the Whitetails will come for you soon. They know you’re in trouble now and he’ll come and save you. They have to. She thinks as she watches the youngest Seed walk around the vehicle to get in as well. And she wants his head on a platter when they do.

There’s not much time to dwell on thoughts of being rescued. John has barely backed out of the driveway by the time Charlie has started seeing green and feeling dizzy. Her head drops back to fall against the cool leather of the headrest.

“I’m just gonna rest my eyes for a moment,” she slurs; eyes drooping shut. Before she knows it, she’s out cold; on the way to start the most interesting chapter of her life thus far.

#fic: stillness in woe #john seed x oc #john seed #oc: charlie berger #far cry 5 fic #yay! baptism next chapter #we’re really in it now

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potassium-pilot · 3 years ago

Text

Bonus Prompt, Yeehaw!

Prompt 31: Suspicion

“Wait!” Haurchefant called out and ran for Dia as she and Alphinaud began their return to Revenant’s Toll, eager to report the day’s events to Minfilia, and figure out strategy surrounding the possibility of Iceheart summoning a primal.

“Is something wrong, Haurchefant?” Dia asked concernedly.

“Nay, merely…might I convince you to stay in Camp Dragonhead for a while?”

She raised her eyebrows at the proposition. “What for? Did something else happen?”

“Thankfully, no. Rather, I…I had hoped I might, er, interest you in dinner.”

“Dinner?” she repeated in disbelief.

“Indeed. The culinarians would most likely start preparations in but a moment, and we always have leftovers. What say you?”

“Well, that sounds lovely”, piped in Alphinaud, “But I’m afraid the Antecedent would need word on the happenings of the heretics sooner rather than later.”

“I see”, Haurchefant hung his head. His intention was not to invite both Alphinaud and Dia, but the two seemed to be a package deal.

“But…she need not have both of us reporting to her. If you’d like, Dia, I can go on ahead while you stay behind.”

“Sounds good to me. I like the sound of someone treating me to free food, especially you, Haurchefant.”

His eyes lit up, and he enthusiastically replied, “Wonderful! Please, step inside. You will want for nothing.”

“We’ll see about that”, she teased as she stepped towards the camp entrance. She recently provided a feast for the Sultana and Chefsbane himself, Lolorito. Her expectations of Camp Dragonhead’s culinarians’ abilities were quite low, but she thoroughly enjoyed food as a concept. She’d happily eat whatever they made.

**********

“So…it’s hot yak’s milk, then?” Dia stared down her Ishgardian tea inquisitively.

“Nay, it’s tea.”

“How?”

“What do you mean?”

“Well, the milk can’t possibly absorb the tea leaves as well as water. It’s about liquid properties.”

“Water doesn’t provide the same richness, the same warmth as yak’s milk in a tea. Not to mention, water highlights the bitter taste of the leaves more.”

“…that’s the point.”

He sighed and told her, “I’m afraid we’ll have to agree to disagree on this point.”

“All right, I’ll drop it”, Dia conceded and merely sipped on it. When she requested tea, she didn’t expect yak’s milk at all, but she was never one to shy away from food. Despite her protestations as to the validity of the tea, it was still quite good, though as she predicted, the yak’s milk overpowered the tea leaves.

“Now, then, how are you feeling?” asked Haurchefant.

“Pretty good. The…tea…is lovely.”

“I’m glad you think so, but I meant in a broader sense.”

She hummed a curious tone.

“Dia, I’ve heard many a tale from many a source about your deeds. You took down four different gods-and you may very well be on your way to a fifth-, the Black Wolf himself, and an ancient Allagan weapon called Ultima that contained the power of three different primals. That you would sustain yourself after such feats beggars belief, and I simply want to ensure that you are, in fact, all right.”

She smiled. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head. I’m perfectly all right.”

“You’re sure? I want to do anything I can to aid you further, particularly if you are on your way to killing yet another primal for the sake of my countrymen.”

“Ah, there’s our misunderstanding. I’m not doing this for Ishgard.”

“Well, I figured as much. The Scions are an organization separated from the interests of the different nations. Regardless of your intentions, however, this still serves my fellow Ishgardians. Yet, I am curious why you would wish to take on this burden.”

Dia shrugged her shoulders. “Such is my fate. Hydaelyn chose me to be her Warrior for whatever reason, and it would be remiss of me not to act as such.”

Haurchefant sipped on his wine, then returned to the discussion. “Well, ‘tis noble of you to fight in her stead, but does being a Warrior of Light strip you of your free will?”

“What?”

“Surely, you must have had other goals, other dreams. Children don’t necessarily grow up thinking they’ll be god-slayers when they’re older.”

She sipped her tea as well. “I wanted adventure. I spent a lot of time cooped up in one small part of Gridania, and I wanted more. I’ll be damned if I didn’t get it.”

Haurchefant chuckled to himself. “Of course. To question the adventurous nature of an adventurer, how foolish of me.”

Dia chuckled lightly as well. “At any rate, I consider my reasons not too different from yours or Ser Aymeric’s. As you fight for Ishgard, I fight for Hydaelyn.”

Haurchefant closed his eyes and let out a small breath. “About that…”

“About what?”

“Dia, know that I say this out of concern for you and your wellbeing. You seemed rather…tense, to say the least, in both meetings with the Lord Commander.”

She wanted to kick herself. Was it that obvious?

“Was everything all right?”

“Pshh, of course it was, it’s allll good.”

“You are a terrible liar.”

She sighed loudly. “Look, I just- it’s fine, don’t worry about it.”

“Dia, I promise you, if you tell me what the matter is, it shall be kept in the strictest of confidence. On my honor as a knight, I shall not break your trust.”

She stared down at the table. “You won’t report this to anyone? You’re not gonna run off to Ishgard and go wherever people go to talk to whoever’s in charge?”

“I swear to you, whatever you tell me will not leave this room.”

She hesitated for a few seconds.

“I don’t trust Ser Aymeric as far as I can throw him.”

Her confession took Haurchefant aback.

“See? I didn’t want you to tell him that.”

“I would never. But…might I know what cause he has given to earn your apprehension?”

She grunted in frustration, “He’s-he’s hiding something, and I can’t tell what, and that bothers me.”

“What could he possibly have to hide?” Haurchefant questioned in disbelief.

“I don’t know. It’s a gut feeling, I admit, but there’s more. When he came in, he told me outright that he was watching me. What did he say? With ‘an interest bordering on fascination?’”

“And what’s the problem with that?”

“You know who tells me that they’re watching my activities? Garleans.”

“They told you that?”

“Aye, they did. Livia, Nero, and Gaius himself, they all told me that they followed my activities. At any rate, your Lord Commander is keeping tabs on me, and I want to know why. What purpose does it serve Ishgard’s government to keep an eye on my movements?”

He took a moment to process her accusation. “I do not wish to make it seem as if I’m invalidating your feelings on the matter, but…might it be possible that he simply found your adventures intriguing? That mayhap it was a personal interest in your deeds?”

“But then why bring it up like that in an official setting? And why say it like that? ‘I’ve enjoyed hearing tales of your deeds’ is one thing, but ‘I’ve been watching your activities’? Quite another.”

“Perhaps the phrasing was more formal than you’re used to hearing from people who simply enjoy your tales.”

“Too formal, if you ask me.” She took another sip of her tea. “I hope you’re right, but at the moment, it seems like he’s following my moves, and there’s a reason, and I’m bothered by the fact that I don’t know his motives other than for the Holy See.”

“I see.”

“Why did he specifically request me there, anyways? Keeping an eye on the Keeper of the Lake seemed more of a request for the Crystal Braves than I. If they think I’m fighting that thing, they can think again.”

“The Scions and the Crystal Braves are near interchangeable in the eyes of many, considering how entangled the two organizations have become.”

“Maybe so, but it still could have just been Alphinaud. Why was I needed? Really, it wasn’t until the caravan was hijacked that anything requiring my attention happened.”

Haurchefant couldn’t answer that one.

“It didn’t help that he and that other knight of his kept a near-constant eye on me during both of those meetings. Only time he looked away was when Alphinaud started in on talks of rejoining the Alliance.”

He shook his head as he remembered how the boy nearly exploded at the Lord Commander.

“Regardless of my own feelings, I could scarce believe that Alphinaud would treat someone he’s trying to convince to join us like that. He’s not a master of persuasion, that’s for sure”, Dia admitted her own second-hand embarrassment for the boy. “He kept us all there for way longer than needed and he barely let Ser Aymeric have a word in edgewise, even though he was the one who called the damn thing in the first place.”

Haurchefant laughed to himself, “I must confess, ‘twas mildly entertaining to watch the boy lose his patience. He usually keeps on a rather cool demeanor in a normal setting.”

She smiled and let out a laugh, “Alphinaud’s still a teenager, no matter what titles you throw at him.”

“Indeed, he is. Anyways, I do apologize for whatever concerns the Lord Commander may have given you. He’s proven rather popular with quite a number of the Temple Knights.”

“Maybe one day, I’ll know why.”

**********

Shiva was defeated, Midgardsormr stripped her of the Blessing of Light, Moenbryda died because of Dia’s lack of strength without it, and it was a sunny day in Coerthas. Dia had tried to take her mind off of the events of the last few weeks by collecting materials for both weaving and selling to her fellow adventurers. After all, she didn’t feel much like a Warrior of Light. A weaver, perhaps. A botanist, sure. But Warrior of Light seemed all but gone. That damn dragon wouldn’t stop following her either. He seemed to pop in whenever he liked.

With her materials in hand, she stepped away, and headed for Revenant’s Toll, climbing down several malms-high hills and passing through rocky terrain. At one point, Dia looked around, taking a moment to see just where she was, instead of glancing at her surroundings in her usual tunnel vision focus on gathering components. Did I just climb this mountain for cheap weaving, she thought. She shook her head and continued her descent when she spied some figure kneeling on the edge of a cliff.

I should just walk away right now.

But she didn��t. She kept walking to see just what that figure was doing, making sure the person didn’t have an agenda that could land them in the craggy aether surrounding Ishgard. As she grew closer, the figure became clearer and clearer. It was a man, and he looked familiar from behind, but it wasn’t obvious who she was thinking of that so resembled him until he finally turned around.

There stood the Lord Commander out of his usual regalia and into a wine red alpine coat, a white tunic underneath, and black thigh-high boots with black hose underneath. He looked utterly flabbergasted to see the Warrior of Light stand behind him.

“Oh! Ser Aymeric! I didn’t-uh-you-“ she stumbled, and immediately saw just what he was doing there- there was a gravestone at the end of that cliff. “Oh, I’m-I’m sorry, I-I didn’t realize that you were, uh, visiting someone. I’m so sorry, I’ll leave you be.”

“There’s nothing to apologize for, Dia” Aymeric said calmly after she turned around and tried to leave.

Godsdammit, Dia.

She stopped and turned back around to face him. “You interrupted nothing. I was visiting my father, and my visit was at it’s conclusion.”

She stared down the gravestone. The first name was unclear, but “Borel” stood out. “I see. I’m sorry for your loss”, she offered her condolences after giving herself a chance to calm down.

“He passed not long after the Calamity. He and my mother were rather…how should I put this…elderly by the time it came about.” He turned back around and looked down to the gravestone.

“I don’t always understand why the men I command fight their battles- plenty do it for prestige, some do it to rise above their station in life, some do it because it’s the only thing they know how to do. My father did it for an undying devotion to protect his country. He may not have always agreed with the Church, but he fought so Ishgard might come to see peace for the first time in a millenium. I think he did everything he could to instill these beliefs in his only son, and I hope that I can come close to doing right by his hopes for me. I owe him that much, at least.”

Dia just stood there and listened. This was the most clarifying moment she had in a long time.

What do you know? He’s mortal.

“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to place all that on you, Dia. What I really wanted to do was thank you personally.”

“For what?”

He scoffed. “For taking down the Father of Dragons himself, Midgardsormr.”

She swore she could hear the little bastard snickering behind her.

“Oh, think nothing of it. It’s pretty much all the gift of Hydaelyn at this point”, Dia brushed off.

Aymeric hummed and crossed his arms. “Forgive me if this broaches on heresy, but somehow, I disagree.” She raised her eyebrows at the thought. “How so?”

“Let’s say, hypothetically, it was my duty to bestow a mighty sword unto a champion.” Before he could continue his example, a nearby tree dropped a decently thick branch. Aymeric walked over and picked it up, using the branch to help give a visual to his metaphor. “This sword”, he said, aiming it at her as though it were real, “is the mightiest sword in all the land. It can defeat any enemy you wield it against in combat, and has the potential for the betterment of all mankind.”

He lowered his stick sword and placed it horizontally into both of his hands. “If I were to create criteria for choosing my champion, I would want more than merely the physical strength required to wield it. Nay, I would needs trust my champion to use it properly, in the name of all people, and only use it against those who would bring great danger unto us all. I would needs know if this champion has the fortitude to fight and keep fighting for all the realm. I would needs know if this champion has the heart to love the realm even when it seems the realm has forsaken her. Most of all, I would needs know if she truly needed the sword to be the champion of the land.”

Aymeric kneeled down and presented the stick sword. “To that end, I would entrust it unto you, Dia Sito.”

Dia didn’t know what to make of the display, but played along and took it from him, holding it like a real sword. He stood back up and looked her in the eye.

“I won’t pretend to understand Hydaelyn. If it were me, however, I would consider any blessing as little more than a formality. I’ve seen you face down danger and march into it personally. I simply refuse to believe that your bravery and determination only come from her gift. Mayhap there was something your soul did in another body some time ago, but she knew who to select as her blessed, and personally, I don’t think she would give such a gift lightly. She chose you for a reason. If her reasoning is anything like mine, she knows you won’t entirely need it to be the Warrior of Light.”

She blinked. Yes, he was being presumptuous about the nature of the Echo, but still, Dia found his faith in her rather endearing.

“I…thank you, Ser Aymeric.”

“For what?”

She swished the stick sword around for a moment and answered, “For your sentiment. It’s…been hard goings, you know?” she admitted, trying to avoid mentioning how her blessing was stripped of her.

“I doubt not the difficulty of your tasks. I know I’m not always available, but know that you have support from behind Ishgard’s walls, and people who believe in you.”

She smiled. It did help to know that. She didn’t immediately trust him wholeheartedly, but she was glad to understand him a bit better.

“‘Twould be remiss of me not to thank you for one more thing, Ser Aymeric.”

“What would that be?”

Dia thrusted the stick to lightly touch it against his heart. “For this all-mighty sword.”

Did she just…make a joke, he thought. Aymeric laughed aloud for a few seconds, “But of course. ‘Twas my sacred duty to bestow it upon you”, he returned with his own joke. She grinned and laughed herself.

What started as a rather solemn visit for him ended in laughter. Perhaps this was her real gift, he thought.

“Might I ask you to accompany me back to the Gates of Judgment? I would be delighted to hear your tales of derring-do from the lips of the hero herself.”

She supposed if he was indeed working for Garleans, she could probably take him. “Very well”, she responded. Aymeric’s eyes lit up like a child at the sight of his Starlight presents, and stepped beside her and requested, “Please, tell me of the primal, Ifrit. That was one of the first that I had heard.”

Dia couldn’t help but be a bit amused. She debated telling Alphinaud of their discussion and how this rather cold and calculating man they met before became an entirely different person in nothing more than a few minutes with a story. Perhaps Haurchefant was right, and he merely had a vested interest in her adventures not as an agent of the Ishgardian government, but as someone who fully enjoyed these stories on his own time.

Maybe he’s not working for Garleans, after all.

#ffxivwrite2021 #ffxivwrite #ffxiv #haurchefant/wol #aymeric & wol #haurchefant greystone #aymeric de borel #alphinaud leveilleur #female elezen wol #after this im subjecting you all to the prompts that i didn’t finish or submit #mwahahaha #sorry for the long one kids

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riversofmars · 4 years ago

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Thank you so much for your lovely comments and encouragement. I honestly didn't expect such a huge response to an opening chapter so I'm absolutely thrilled to have you all along for the ride <3

Chapter 2: The World’s Turned Upside Down

The Library, 52nd Century

River closed the door to the kids bedroom - alone for the first time since the Doctor had saved her to the Library core - and she finally allowed her composure to slip. She pressed her hand to her mouth and swallowed a sob, afraid the kids might hear. She had been proud of herself for staying strong all the way through her final adventure. The moment the young Doctor had turned up instead of the one her message had been meant to reach, she had realised things would not go according to plan. For the Doctor, it had been the first time they had met. He hadn’t known her yet so she couldn’t tell him why she was really at the Library as she had intended. She also hadn’t been able to take comfort in seeing him though she had so badly needed to. Looking at the Doctor and having him not recognise her was a most cruel trick of fate after everything she’d been through.

At the time, threatened by the deadly shadows of the Vashta Nerada, she had kept her focus on the task at hand: carry out the mission, get access to the Library, get her answers once everything was wrapped up. She had decided she could always fill her Doctor in later; but she hadn’t anticipated this might be a one way trip. When it got to it, when things had fallen into place and she had finally understood how her life had always lead up to this, it had been far too late. Things had been beyond her control. She had to sacrifice her future to ensure her past. The truth of it was only sinking in now that she had space and time to think about it.

River cradled her diary to her chest as she made her way down the corridor to the living room. She dropped onto the sofa and buried her face in her hands as she started to cry; for herself, for her future, for her family. Suddenly, the Doctor’s sorrow at her leaving Darillium made so much more sense. He had known that she wouldn’t return but he hadn’t been able to tell her. Rationally, she knew he couldn’t have told her about her fate, but her sadness gave way to anger regardless. If she had known, she would have made different choices. It wasn’t her own fate she was angry about. As for as dying went, this wasn’t so bad: she was safe, immortal even. Though she was trapped, it beat dying properly. Had she known what was to come, she would not have kept secrets from her husband the way she had.

River trusted Vastra, Jenny and Strax to keep her son safe, and eventually, surely, they would contact the Doctor when they realised she wouldn’t return. He would be angry with her for keeping her secret and rightfully so. But eventually, hopefully, he would forgive her and raise their son. They would be together: Her family. River, however, would never be able to hold her child again. The realisation overwhelmed her and she struggled to breath, her sobs catching in her throat.

Alone with her own thoughts, River allowed herself a moment of weakness; she was dead after all. She could rest from being the strong, self-assured woman she had had to be all her life.

River couldn’t be sure how long it had been when she ran out of tears to cry. She just sat for a while, staring into space that she knew was nothing but strings of numbers. She had been saved to the greatest hard drive in history, everything around her was pure data and so was she.

A realisation came to her like a flash of lightning and she jumped to her feet: She was where she had meant to end up. Quickly, River made her way to the bookshelf on the other side of the room. She was in the biggest Library in the universe with all its knowledge at her disposal. Just because she was dead didn’t mean the forces threatening her husband and child had disappeared.

A new kind of determination gripped her and she pulled book after book from a shelf, that responded to her thoughts of what she was looking for. This was just another stop. Her Doctor was out there still and sooner or later, he would need her help and come looking for her. She wasn’t going to be empty handed when he arrived.

——

London, Late 19th Century

“Jenny!“ Vastra rushed to her wife’s side while the Doctor remained rooted to the spot, trying to work out what was going on.

“Doctor?“ Yaz asked, awaiting some sort of instruction or at least a reaction from her but she didn’t get one. So she hurried to the other unconscious figure. She didn’t recognise what species he was but he seemed to be breathing. They had probably been stunned, Yaz concluded, as there was no blood or other marks of force on their bodies. She took pride in her constantly improving observational skills. This was far better police training than her probationary work ever had been. She looked up to the Doctor who was still staring at the cot, holding on to a stitched piece of cloth. “Are you okay?“ Yaz asked, unsettled by the distinct lack of reaction on her friend’s part.

“Vastra, what is going on here?“ The Doctor’s voice was hollow when she finally spoke. All manner of thoughts were running through her mind but the most obvious explanation couldn’t possibly be true. She tightened her grip around the prayer leaf.

“Doctor, I will explain but first…“ Vastra had pulled Jenny up against herself and pressed a kiss to her forehead, as she tried to gently shake her awake.

“No, explain NOW!“ The Doctor yelled, losing her temper for one terrifying moment that made Vastra and Yaz jump.

“Doctor, let’s look after these people first.“ Yaz stood quickly and placed her hand on her friend’s shoulder, bewildered at the uncharacteristic outburst. The flash of fear across the lizard woman’s face shook her. It was an unwelcome reminder that the Doctor had changed in the nineteen years of prison. Something was weighing her down. They had seen flashes of it in their fight against the Daleks but there had been no opportunity to address it at the time. Now, it became painfully obvious that something was wrong with her. A deep anger had taken root and was bubbling to the surface.

“This doesn’t concern you, Yaz.“ The Doctor bit back and shrugged her hand away. She used her sonic to scan the cot for clues before turning back to Vastra. “Who’s baby was sleeping in that cot?“ She pressed through gritted teeth and Vastra couldn’t bring herself to speak, her throat closing up with sorrow. They had failed the Doctor and River.

“Vastra…“ Jenny mumbled, drawing her attention as she came round slowly. “Someone came… the baby, is the baby okay?“ She asked, her voice weak. Vastra couldn’t answer her wife, she just looked up to the Doctor.

“Doctor, we are so sorry…“ She croaked, her voice full of guilt.

“Doctor?“ Yaz watched and wasn’t following.

“So it worked, the emergency beacon…“ Jenny mumbled, still in a haze. She looked to the Doctor and recognised them from the age of her eyes and the sorrow she found there. A new face was of no consequence.

“You triggered it?“ The Doctor asked.

“Professor Song left it… But we expected you to be…“ Vastra tried to explain that she wasn’t the Doctor they had expected. She was so much older and it only made it harder. She couldn’t bare to think just how long ago Darillium was for the Doctor at this point.

“Where is she? Where is River? Who’s baby is it?“ The Doctor tried her best to keep her voice steady. She needed confirmation. It was so glaringly obvious but also too impossible to believe. How could River have kept this from her?

“Does it really need saying?“ Vastra voice broke and the so did the Doctor’s hearts.

The Doctor hurried down the stairs, she needed space. She couldn’t face the others and she couldn’t keep looking at the empty cot. She tightened her grip around the prayer leaf, her knuckles turning white. She took two steps at a time, running like the devil was on her heels. This was too big, too painful to face and so she ran - until the brittle stairs gave way under her heavy steps and she put her foot through them, crashing through the bottom half of the staircase.

“Oh my God, Doctor!“ Yaz hurried after her, careful not to cause any more damage. She reached under her arms and pulled her up. “Doctor, what’s going on?“ Yaz was at a complete loss, she had never seen the Doctor react like this, not even when they were dealing with the Master. There was genuinely panic and fear in her eyes. The Doctor pulled away from Yaz without a word.

“Doctor.“ Vastra appeared on the landing above and the Doctor’s eyes snapped up to her. “Please don’t run away from this.“ The detective pleaded.

“Don’t talk to me right now!“ The Doctor yelled with anger the likes of which Yaz had never seen. “You don’t get to talk to me right now!“ She struggled down the rest of the stairs without looking back.

“Doctor!“ Yaz called after her as she just carried on, darting to the front door.

“Give her a moment…“ Vastra realised there was no point in trying to stop her, she needed a moment to herself and that was the least they could give her. “In the meantime, would you mind helping me with the others?“

The Doctor slammed the doors of the TARDIS and received a scolding hum for her actions. She ignored it and dropped onto on of the steps in the console room. There she unfolded the prayer leaf again, holding it close as her vision blurred with tears. The TARDIS gave a concerned hum but the Doctor couldn’t speak to answer. She knew the TARDIS understood, their psychic link was stronger than words and the Doctor couldn’t bring herself to phrase everything she was feeling.

She thought back to the last time she had seen River. They had watched the sunrise on Darillium after twenty-four wonderful years there, and then, she had left. River hadn’t been able to keep her promise of return as the Doctor had already known at the time. The Doctor had waited regardless and had set the table for breakfast on the balcony on the off-chance River had managed to trick fate. It had been a long, lonely wait. Eventually the Doctor had busied themselves by fixing up a new body for Nardole when the loneliness was getting too much. For many sleep cycles they’d brought breakfast back to an empty room, setting it on the balcony again and again. The Doctor even did on the day they left Darillium for good and headed to New York to try and clear up the time distortions. It would have been a first step to visiting the Ponds for some comfort after losing their daughter for good, but it had never played out like that.

The Doctor took a deep breath as she considered what River had done after Darillium and before going to the Library. Was this it? Or where they in fact even earlier in her timeline and River had just never told her that the had had a child? Both options were far too painful to contemplate. She was already reeling from imprisonment, the destruction of Gallifrey and learning about the gaps in her past. How was she to cope with this? Her world had turned upside down, inside out, more time than she could count but this was different. How was she to do this without River to rely upon.

“Here we go.“ Yaz helped Strax sit up on a chair in the mostly untouched drawing room.

“I don’t require human assistance.“ The Sonatan protested but Vastra shushed him as she helped Jenny to the sofa.

“That’s quite enough of that Strax, we need to make sure you’re both uninjured.“ The lady of the house stated firmly. Jenny, however, was more concerned with her wife’s wellbeing.

“We’re fine. They only stunned us, but what about you?“ She asked as she reached out and touched her fingertips to Vastra’s cheek brushing off dried scales. Yaz watched the tender gestured as she learned more about the Doctor’s friends. “Your skin appears to be…“

Vastra straightened herself up and rubbed her face to find herself shedding more scales.

“It appears the blast of whatever that bomb was aged me…“ She observed, witnessing the sped up effects of her amphibian skin renewing itself. “Not to worry, dear, I still have a lot of life left in me, perhaps our life spans are more aligned now.�� She gave her a soft smile and her hand a squeeze.

“So you are the Doctor’s friends?“ Yaz spoke up at last as it seemed they had all recovered from the attack they had been subjected to.

“Old friends, yes. By the look of them, it has been a long time indeed…“ Vastra commented with an apologetic smile. They didn’t mean to keep the Doctor’s young friend in the dark but she had to see to Jenny and Strax first.

“So you knew her before she changed?“ Yaz concluded. She had met a few people from the Doctor’s past now, Jack, the Master… she was eager to learn how these three fit in.

“First a young man with floppy hair, then the old Scot…“ Jenny recalled and Vastra finished the sentence for her:

“Now a pretty blonde.“

“Oi!“ Jenny gave her wife’s arm a slap, feeling a lot more like herself now. The after-effects from the stun blast were wearing off.

“Pretty?“ Strax interjected confused. “He looks the same as ever.“ The three women paid no heed to him.

“So when you called for her, you expected her to be a younger self?“ Yaz concluded. Time travel was confusing but she was getting the hang of it.

“Indeed.“ Vastra nodded.

“So what happened here? Who attacked you?“ Yaz pressed on. A child had been abducted so surely, time was of the essence. “And what about the baby?“ She carried on as she looked into deeply unsettled faces. “Who’s is it?“

“It’s mine.“ The Doctor’s voice made them all jump.

“Doctor, we’re so…“ Jenny attempted to get to her feet. She wanted to apologise, plead for forgiveness as they had failed her, but Vastra gently pushed her back to sit down.

“What?“ Yaz frowned, confused as she watched her friend walk into her room. She looked a lot calmer than she had when she had stormed out of the house but her was expression remained grim. Yaz noticed she was still carrying the green cloth. Judging by the way she ran her fingers along the stitching, it had to bear some meaning to her.

“That’s right, isn’t it, Madame Vastra. River entrusted our child to you.“ The Doctor concluded looking to Vastra accusingly.

“You have a child?“ Yaz was stunned. She looked around the room, into grim but knowing faces, and found that she was the odd one out.

“I didn’t know, my wife never told me.“ The Doctor answered without looking to her young friend, she kept her focus on the Silurian, excepting an explanation. Yaz was only getting more confused. This was the first time she had heard the Doctor mention a wife. She had so many question but she realised now was not the right time to ask.

“She was pregnant when she left Darillium. She couldn’t return and had to have the child by herself. Then she entrusted him to us before going to the Library.“ Vastra kept her voice calms as she explained, keeping her answer brief.

“Why would she do that?“ The Doctor snapped. Just because she had already assumed as much didn’t mean she understood it.

“She was trying to keep you safe, keep all of you safe.“ Vastra carried on. She couldn’t presume to know the Professor’s mind but she knew what she had told her and what she had read in the notes she had left behind.

“It’s not really worked out that way, has it.“ The Doctor shot back, upset.

“Strax, how about some tea?“ Jenny looked to Strax, hoping to calm the situation before it could escalate again.

“I was quite enjoying being in the line of fire once again.“ The Sontaran retorted but Jenny’s expression left no room for discussion.

The interruption as they left for the kitchen was enough to calm the Doctor for the time being. She kept her eyes on Vastra, her expression making quite clear how disappointed she was in them for having gone along with this.

“Who was it?“ The Doctor said at last. “Who took my child?“ The words echoed through the silent room, their meaning so poignant it made all their hearts ache. So soon after finding out, the Doctor had already accepted that this was her child, her family, they were talking about. And in the same sentence, she had already lost them. It was too painful to contemplate.

“I honestly don’t know.“ Vastra broke the silence at last. “It all happened very quickly. I was going to answer a knock on the door as Jenny and Strax were upstairs looking after the little one. An explosion happened and then you woke me up. I’m afraid that’s all I remember.“ She explain sorrowfully, begging forgiveness in every syllable.

“A chronon mine… that’s Time Lord technology.“ The Doctor said after briefly considering her words.

“I thought you said all the Time Lords are dead?“ Yaz asked, remembering the Doctor’s account of what happened on Gallifrey after they had left.

“They are. The Master killed them all.“ The Doctor nodded in agreement.

“Perhaps not all of them… at least that was your wife’s theory.“ Vastra said slowly and went to the bureau in the corner to retrieve the file River had left. “She left us with this, accounts of what she did since leaving Darillium.“

——

Sheffield, early 21st Century

“Feels weird, doesn’t it.“ Ryan Sinclair observed walking past by the apartment block Yaz’s family lived in. The spot where the TARDIS had been a welcome sight stood empty. The Doctor and Yaz had left a few days ago and the reality of them being out on adventure by themselves had yet to fully sink in.

“Feels right though.“ Graham O’Brien placed his hand on his grandson’s shoulder as they turned and continued down the street. They had had wonderful adventures but it was time for both of them to carry on with their lives. There were things at home that needed fixing too, not just out in the universe. The most recent misadventure with the Daleks had proven as much.

“Shall we just nip round to the Chippy for tea?“ Ryan suggest when they reached home and he pushed his bike into the garage. The time up in the mountains practicing was starting to pay off. He knew his nan would be proud of his progress and the pride he saw reflected in Graham’s eyes was confirmation of that.

“Sounds good, just let me grab some cash.“ Graham grinned unlocking the front door. “I think I have a twenty in my other jacket…“ He turned into the lounge and jumped with a very undignified yelp. A woman was sitting on his sofa and greeted him with a smile. “Ryan?!“ He called out and his grandson joined him quickly.

“What the…!“ Ryan stared at the woman in shock. She was tall, blonde and altogether far too relaxed for sitting in someone else’s lounge as they returned. “How’d you get in here?“

“Apologies for startling you, Mr. O’Brien, Mr. Sinclair… I hope you don’t mind that I let myself in.“ The woman got to her feet. A empty cup in front of her indicated that she had been waiting a while and hadn’t been shy about helping herself to refreshments.

“We do mind, actually! Who are you?“ Graham tried his best to sound authoritative. Talking a good talk was half the battle, or so they had gathered from how the Doctor approached trouble.

“Kate Lethbridge-Stewart, Chief Scientific Officer at UNIT.“ She extended her hand that neither of them took.

“UNIT?“ Ryan echoed with a frown.

“Rings a bell, doesn’t it.“ Graham sensed that they were both thinking the same thing.

“The Doctor might have mentioned us.“ Kate smiled and sat back down, gesturing for them to do the same. Graham and Ryan exchanged confused looks, not used to being told what to do in their own home. They were, however, relieved that the stranger didn’t seem to be here to kill them.

“You know the Doctor then?“ Graham’s relaxed a little as he sat in an armchair across from her.

“Yes that’s right, didn’t the Doctor try and contact you when we found that Dalek the first time round and you didn’t exist anymore, or something?“ The penny dropped for Ryan as well as he perched on the end of the sofa. He couldn’t quite keep the accusatory undertones out of his voice that he felt were justified. Only the UK would dismantle a useful agency in order to cut public spending. If the Kasavan hadn’t taught them a lesson, surely the Daleks would have now.

“Yes. I’m afraid at the time, UNIT was not operational…“ Kate retorted pressing her lips to a thin line. Clearly the budget cuts were a sore subject for her as well.

“And where were you this time around, eh? Daleks all over the place, straight from the government, all them politicians involved in it, surely that’s the sort of thing you should have intervened in.“ Graham crossed his arms in front of his chest. They had done their very best researching the Daleks in the Doctor’s absence. If UNIT had been about, things surely would never have gotten as far as they did.

“I’m afraid we have had greater concerns to deal with.“ Kate revealed sounding regretful, yet matter-of-factly.

“Greater than an army of Daleks trying to conquer Earth?“ Ryan retorted with a huff and a laugh. He found that very hard to believe.

“With UNIT officially ceasing to exist, it has given us the opportunity to retreat into the shadows and work undetected. We couldn't risk revealing ourselves.“ She gave an apologetic smile. “You might not be aware of it yet but there are far greater forces at work on Earth right now than a rouge strain of Daleks.“

“Don’t like the sound of that…“ Ryan mumbled and Graham leaned forward in his chair:

“Have you spoken to the Doctor about this?“

“Not yet.“ Kate admitted. “Not until we know more. We can’t always rely on the Doctor, they have other things to concern themselves with. Rest assured we will reach out when the time is right. Until then… we are recruiting and Captain Harkness was kind enough to provide your address. Hence the house call.“

“Of course he did…“ Graham shook his head to himself at the mention of Jack Harkness.

“Recruiting for what?“ Ryan asked.

“Humanity’s last stand, should it come to it.“

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demetriandelibinaryboyfriends · 4 years ago

Note

"Remember when you told me that Demetri was always going to be your only friend?"

Her tone was sharp and Eli felt obliged to avoid her gaze, staring at his hands instead.

"I do."

"Yeah well, Demetri's mother called me to tell that someone broke his arm and she doesn't know who did it."

His silence was almost as loud as a scream.

"I know who did it. I didn't know the reason though, but then I saw those Cobra Kai kids with you outside and I put it together. You have a bunch of new friends now, don't you?"

Eli glanced at his mother and regretted it instantly, she almost looked as if she was talking to a stranger. Like she didn't knew him.

"Well, Demetri isn't your only friend now, is he?"

No.

"Was it worth it?"

No.

God, no.

Hey wow look never in my life have 142 words CRUSHED MY SOUL FASTER

This drabble punched me in the gut, grabbed my wallet, looked through it, snatched all my $20s, and then ran away mercilessly.

Legit though, it never sat quite right with me when Eli was venting to his mom in that one flashback and he just wails out “I’M NEVER GONNA HAVE ANY FRIENDS BESIDES DEMETRI!” like it’s some like...goddamn death sentence or something. Like yeah, Demetri is far from the perfect best/only friend, and he can certainly be an insensitive ass at times, but like...yo, the boy is LOYAL AF, he’s stuck with your ass and been your best friend through YEARS of bullying and tried to protect you from getting hurt, in his own little way (even if some of his efforts are kinda misguided, as they basically boil down to “just avoid engaging bullies if at all possible” and “don’t try any new activity (i.e. karate) that could cause even slight pain or discomfort and rock the boat” lol) and tried to make you laugh with dumb jokes about you being the homecoming king when NO ONE ELSE would bother, and you clearly just DON’T appreciate him??? Like the way Eli’s like “I’m never gonna have friends...besides Demetri, obviously” just reads like he’s absolutely just taking Demetri for granted and it PISSES ME OFF. Then again, I think it might just strike a nerve with me in particular, since I remember all too well being a ragingly insecure, introverted child watching my friends make other friends besides me and just being so confused and hurt, like “...am I not good enough for you?” Of course, now that I’m older I see that it’s valid to want more friends while keeping the ones you have, obviously, and I don’t think Eli was inherently wrong for wanting to expand his social circle or anything, but the way he’s just...so dismissive of Demetri’s friendship and instead focuses on crying about all the cool friends he doesn’t have just PEEVES me to no end. Like ffs, some of the kids at that school who get bullied probably have NO friends and have to tough it out alone, so maybe be like...a little more appreciative of the fact that you have a BEST FRIEND who clearly cares about you??? Again, it’s valid for Eli to want more friends--I imagine you’d get tired of only having one person your age to really talk to--but the fact that he kinda phrases this in a way that makes it sound like Demetri and their friendship is dismissable and trivial and not all that important to him has always bugged me a lot. I mean, Eli obviously DOES care about Demetri and Demetri’s opinions of him, as we see several times in the show, but like...hearing him say “I’m never gonna have any other friends besides Demetri” still makes me wince every time. STOP TALKIN BOUT MY BOY LIKE HE DOESN’T MATTER

Yeah yeah yeah I KNOW I’m reading way too much into a simple comment okay but this statement has implications and I DO NOT like them

“Someone broke his arm and she doesn't know who did it." Oh yeah, Demetri absolutely did not tell his mom Eli broke his arm. Given how smothering and overprotective she seems (I mean, she gave him a note to take to a KARATE CLASS excusing him from EXTENSIVE ARM AND LEG MOVEMENT even though that’s ALL KARATE IS), she’d probably NEVER let Eli near him again if she knew--hell, she might even get a restraining order or make Demetri transfer schools or something. And Demetri definitely doesn’t think that’s her decision to make--and he ain’t about to give up on Good Old Eli just yet, even after everything that’s happened. Perhaps against his better judgement, he still has hope for his old friend. He just tells his mom his arm got broken by one of the newer Cobra Kai recruits, some burly thug guy he’d never seen before. He didn’t get a good look at the guy, naturally, since he was pinning his face to the ground and fled the scene almost immediately after the arm-snapping.

And oh my god how I WISH we’d gotten a scene in Season 3 where Eli’s mom just brutally calls him out like this, because god knows he needed it and it could’ve been THE wake-up call (or at least one of a few big wake-up calls) that shit...he’s getting farther away from the person he’s always been than he ever has before, and maybe...maybe it’s not a good thing after all. Maybe it’s not a good thing if his own mother barely recognizes him, if his own mother is maybe even a little scared/wary of him and what he’s become. I mean I get there was a lot going on in Season 3, and there probably wouldn’t have really been room to bring back a character as minor as Eli’s mom, but I would have loved to see her reaction to all the shit he was pulling throughout the season. She highkey seems like a helicopter parent if she’s willing to call the school over Eli being bullied, so there’s no way she was just suddenly completely disinterested in everything he was doing after school and that she didn’t at least suspect there was some sketchy shit going on. (I mean...the boy presumably came home with a MOTORCYCLE one day??? Isn’t she gonna wonder where on earth he got that??? Y’all don’t expect me to believe SHE got it for him, do you???)

Also, Demetri and Eli’s moms are absolutely friends!!! Speaking as someone who had the same group of childhood friends for like 12 years, your moms can’t NOT be friends when they’re forced to see each other that often XD It’s kinda depressing to think how much it must have hurt their moms too when they started fighting, since these women would presumably have been good friends for years at that point and now have to watch their sons, who used to be best friends, just constantly be at each other’s throats :( I love how quickly Eli’s mom puts two and two together and figures out Eli broke Demetri’s arm. Eli can’t hide SHIT from his mama haha

Also wow it’s so fucked and depressing to think that maybe, in the heat of the moment, Eli broke Demetri’s arm to LITERALLY shatter the notion of Demetri being his only friend and try to DESTROY that time completely with that arm break so he could fully embrace his new, “improved” identity as the “cool badass” with lots of awesome and formidable friends who were obviously far superior and much better for his image and his intimidation factor than nerdy little Demetri...ouch.

"Was it worth it?"

No.

God, no.

JESUS I’M SOBBING

AS SOON AS ELI HEARD THAT BONE SNAP AND SAW DEMETRI CURLED UP ON THE FLOOR CRYING HE REGRETTED ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING I AM HERE TO TELL YOU

IT WAS A BAD DAY FOR EVERYONE AND I AM GOING TO MURDER JOHN KREESE WITH MY BARE HANDS FOR SLOWLY MINDFUCKING MY BOY ELI MOSKOWITZ INTO THINKING BREAKING HIS CRUSH’S ARM WAS THE MOVE

#hawk x demetri #demetri x eli #binary boyfriends #hawkmeat #eli x demetri #demetri x hawk #elimetri #demetri cobra kai #eli moskowitz #cobra kai #cobra kai season 2 #cobra kai season 3 #hawk #demetri #eli #my askbox

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meltingheartsandcores · 3 years ago

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Yoooo your new fic is so cool!! How will lwj react to finding out about his daughter?

So, when I wrote the story, I had no idea, hence why I ended it there. But I was thinking on how to answer this last night, and ended up writing an entire second chapter at like one am. And then editted it through my Bio lecture (which was not my best idea but it’s just a kahoot quiz rn so not that bad of idea) but also means it’s lightly editted at best, sorry.

Oh and for Daiyu’s characters, I’ve lost the file that initially had them, but I’m like 80% sure they were 黛玉 which should be Dark Jade if I’m not wrong.

Anyways, hope you enjoy the story, I’ve put this under a read more because it’s long, lol.

Lan Wangji was not happy when Lan Xichen revealed that they did not know where Wei Wuxian was. Nie Mingjue was not happy with Lan Wangji pouting, so Lan Xichen had to stop several attempts of just telling Lan Wangji the school they had picked the kids up at yesterday and the park.

Just because they found out about Daiyu that way, does not mean Wangji has to. In Lan Xichen’s opinion at least. Truly it was up to Wei Wuxian.

So, while Nie Mingjue was cooking breakfast, Lan Xichen texts Wei Wuxian a very simple;

Wangji is here. Would you like to see him?

The question feels a little ridiculous to ask, after all they had just cleared up a major misunderstanding, the only reason Lan Xichen was aware of that they broke up, why wouldn’t Wei Wuxian want to see Lan Wangji? Then again, it has been five years. While Wei Wuxian asked after Lan Wangji’s relationship status, he gave nothing of his own. Aside from the fact that he was living with Wen Qing.

Who, to Lan Xichen’s knowledge, Wei Wuxian hadn’t been all that close to before they had broken up. And considering he was told the Wens moved away from the city barely a week after Wei Wuxian left the Jiangs, there wasn’t much time for him to get so attached to move across the country with them.

So, while waiting for Wei Wuxian to text back, Lan Xichen did his best to distract Lan Wangji. Except, Lan Wangji was not having it.

“Xiongzhang,” Oh that tone was not good. “If Wei Ying does not wish to see me, just tell me.” Lan Wangji asks, sounding serious but looking, to Lan Xichen at least, like if he did as asked he would be breaking Lan Wangji’s heart.

“I’m sure Wei Wuxian wishes to see you. The problem is, is that this is now rather fresh for him. And there are some things he’s told me that make me concerned to just, point you in his vague direction.” Lan Xichen explains since, yes, it was odd for him to be restraining Lan Wangji. In their teenage years Lan Xichen all but pushed Lan Wangji to hang out with Wei Wuxian. And sometimes he did, actually physically push Lan Wangji to hang out with Wei Wuxian.

“He disappeared five years ago without a word.” Lan Wangji states, reminding himself of that oddity before asking, “What happened?”

And the conversation Lan Xichen did not want to have. “After he left the Jiang family, he came to the house to spend the night as he hadn’t expected to be kicked out so soon. You were out with me,” Lan Wangji nods, remembering the night he very much did not want to spend out of the house, “so Uncle answered the door. He told Wei Wuxian you wanted nothing to do with him, and to never contact the Lan family again.” Lan Xichen admits, wincing when Lan Wangji’s eyes go coldly furious. “Of course, this is only what Wei Wuxian has told me, I have not had the chance to hear what Uncle has to say on this.” Lan Xichen reminds, but it didn’t matter. Lan Wangji cared about what Wei Wuxian heard, not what their Uncle meant all those years ago. It does, at this point, seem more important. Even if Uncle hadn’t said so in so many words, it did result in Wei Wuxian disappearing for five years with Lan Wangji’s daughter.

“You should speak to him.” Lan Wangji states coldly, clearing meaning for Lan Xichen to get an explanation that does not result in Lan Wangji dropping contact with all of them and moving in with Wei Wuxian.

Lan Xichen’s not entirely sure that’s not going to happen anyways, considering Daiyu.

Thankfully, Lan Xichen’s phone goes off with an alert, and he’s relieved to see Wei Wuxian texted him back, and the message also relieves, a little.

What the fuck. How the fuck did he get here. I’m not kidding, the trains don’t run overnight here, it’s literally impossible for him to be here. What the fuck. Oh, but, send him to the Starbucks. There’s literally only one in the town so. I’ll meet him there at 10

The idea of going to Starbucks makes Lan Xichen want to send Wangji to the park, but he ignores it and instead repeats the place and time, and Lan Wangji immediately gets on his phone to get a cab to the city. Lan Xichen could offer to drive Lan Wangji himself, or even their car, but he wants some time with Nie Mingjue. And he wants their car at their place tomorrow morning, which if all goes well, Lan Wangji will not be returning to the cabin.

So he lets Lan Wangji leave in a cab.

Lan Wangji will admit his actions the previous night were illogical. And rude. First he hung up on his brother, then he ran out on his Uncle without a word (although considering what Lan Xichen told him, he doesn’t feel bad about it anymore) and paid a lot of money to be taken to the rather remote town Wei Wuxian had decided to live in. But now that he knows where Wei Wuxian was, how close he was, he was more than eager. He had been looking for Wei Wuxian for the past five years, never with any success. He had never been sure what had caused Wei Wuxian to leave without a word before, always thought to the weeks previous for anything he’d done. Now that he knows the truth...

He wishes he never agreed to go out with Lan Xichen that night.

But he cannot change the past. All he can do is cherish and love Wei Wuxian now.

Even if that means going to Starbucks.

Lan Wangji pays the cab and walks up to the Starbucks. He can’t help the face he makes, the places are always too loud for him, and it’s a show of excess that makes him twitch. Wei Wuxian always liked them, so he always made an effort to at least tolerate the places, but he couldn’t help the cringe.

Of course, the cringe drops from his face as he hears a familiar bark of laughter, snapping his head to the side to see Wei Wuxian. Looking the same as ever. No. Not the same. Older. More lines, more age, but no less beautiful. With a bling bright smile, “What’s with Lans and Starbucks?” Wei Wuxian asks laughing.

“Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji whispers, before processing the question and answering, “You know our principles, do you not think it’s the opposite of everything we value?”

Wei Wuxian shrugs, tilting his head to the side, “I guess. Counterpoint, their Frappuccino’s are delicious.”

“Excessive amounts of sugar.” Lan Wangji counters, feeling sixteen again and like lecturing Wei Wuxian on what those drinks will do to his health.

“Hey, some sugar is good. Besides, I don’t think I ever got you to try their Matcha Frapp.” Wei Wuxian says, grabbing Lan Wangji’s arm and dragging him into the Starbucks.

“Why.”

“Why not?” There was the smile again, bright and beautiful.

And Lan Wangji couldn’t argue. This Starbucks was quieter, than the ones Wei Wuxian would drag him to years ago, Wei Wuxian orders quickly for them both, and Lan Wangji did nothing but stare.

“Aiyah, Lan Zhan, what’s with the staring?” Wei Wuxian asks after noticing while waiting for their drinks, an amused smile gracing his lips.

Lan Wangji debates his answer, he could say many things, most would probably make Wei Wuxian blush, but in the end he decides on, “Worried Wei Ying will disappear again.”

Wei Wuxian huffs a laugh, “Lan Zhan.” Wei Ying shakes his head, and then his smile drops, which makes Lan Wangji furrow his brow, “So, how much did Lan Xichen tell you?”

“He told me you were here. And what Uncle said. Which was untrue.” Lan Wangji states, not sure what else there was to say. Perhaps how Wei Wuxian chose this place?

Wei Wuxian chuckles, “Yeah, Lan Xichen made that clear yesterday.” Wei Wuxian scratches his nose three times, clearly thinking about something, considering his next actions. Normally it would predate a prank, but Lan Wangji has the distinct feeling Wei Wuxian is not going to be pulling pranks right now. “So, he just said that?” Lan Wangji nods, becoming confused. “Let’s wait for our drinks.” Wei Wuxian decides, confusing Lan Wangji further, but all he does is nod. For now, he’s fine with Wei Wuxian setting the pace.

When they get their drinks and sit down, Lan Wangji eyes his green frapp with contention, only taking a sip when prompted by Wei Wuxian. It wasn’t, terrible. He still didn’t like it. But it was better than the other frapps Wei Wuxian has had him try over the years.

He still didn’t drink more beyond that sip.

Wei Wuxian sighs and sips at his drink a little, before setting it aside, “Well, I suppose I can’t do this the same way I did it with Lan Xichen and Dage.” Lan Wangji furrows his brow slightly, becoming confused once more. “Not unless you’re willing to wait five hours.” Lan Wangji shakes his head, he was not in the mood to be waiting today. Not for long. He’s finally seeing Wei Wuxian again. Wei Wuxian nods, “Didn’t think so. Uh, so. How to say this...”

“You say what you are thinking.” Lan Wangji states, almost on reflex, having said it to Wei Wuxian so many times when they were together, when Wei Wuxian was having trouble putting words to his thoughts.

“I’m thinking how to tell you I was pregnant without breaking your brain.” Wei Wuxian retorts, clearly on reflex, as he always would when Lan Wangji would make that remark. Normally it allowed for Lan Wangji to assist in phrasing, as while Wei Wuxian was better at conversational talking than Lan Wangji, he also typically just trailed off and made half sentences he expected the people around him to understand. While Lan Wangji would consider his words until he knew exactly what he was going to say. Making it easier sometimes, for Lan Wangji to assist.

This time however.

Lan Wangji blinks.

Once.

Pregnant.

Twice.

Pregnant

Thrice.

‘Wei Ying was pregnant when he left.’

Four times.

“And I broke you, shit.” Lan Wangji was not truly paying attention to Wei Wuxian, he should be. Now more than ever. But he can’t.

‘Wei Ying and I had a child.’

‘Wei Ying and I have a child’

No. Maybe not. Wei Wuxian could've- “Did you keep it?” Legally, Wei Wuxian wouldn't have been able to abort without Lan Wangji's permission. But then, legality has never been a concern to Wei Wuxian for all Lan Wangji has known him.

Wei Wuxian blinks, clearly caught off guard by the question. “Uh, yeah. Her name is Daiyu, she’s four. Turning five. In a couple of months actually.”

“Daiyu.” Lan Wangji repeats, nodding, it’s a nice name. She’s four. “May I meet her?” Did Wei Wuxian want him in her life? Did he want Lan Wangji in his? Maybe he met someone else? Maybe what Uncle said stuck with him hard enough that he doesn’t want anything to do with Lan Wangji anymore.

“Well. She’s at school. Well, not school. Qing-jie said she could start next year if she really wants to, but four is too young.” Wei Wuxian shrugs, “I didn’t start school til I was nine so, I don’t really have an opinion. Or, I don’t get one.” That felt wrong. But Lan Wangji has not being helping Wei Wuxian, so, he also does not get an opinion. He thinks. “But there are these activities that go on at the school. From eight to eleven, and then from twelve to three. Technically she’s too young for those too, but the organizer is scared of Qing-jie, so, she’s allowed.” Wei Wuxian nods, “Our daughter is terrifyingly smart Lan Zhan. She might take over the world.”

“She will deserve it.”

“Lan Zhan!” Wei Wuxian exclaims, “You cannot endorse your daughter taking over the world.”

“If she can do it, why shouldn’t she?”

Wei Wuxian’s mouth moves, clearly intent on saying something but nothing comes out but a bark of laughter, “Holy shit. Wen Qing is never going to believe me being the sane parent. What the fuck.”

Ah, too much? He does have four years to make up for. Besides, why shouldn’t he support their daughters business ventures? Or would this be politics? Ah, it would be politics. In that case, “Not until she is at least fourteen.”

“...You’re so going to be the soft parent.” Was Wei Wuxian’s only comment. Then he checks his phone and stands up, “We should start walking over to the school. You can meet Daiyu, and we’ll see if she took our conversation last night to heart.”

Lan Wangji furrows his brow slightly at that, standing as well. Did, Did Daiyu not have a high opinion of him? No, of course she wouldn’t. No matter what Wei Wuxian said, he has been absent. Wei Wuxian chucks both their drinks, which seems like a horrible waste but Lan Wangji was not about to suggest he actually finish that drink, so he follows Wei Wuxian out without comment.

“Does she not like me?” Lan Wangji asks as Wei Wuxian leads them to the school.

Wei Wuxian hums, “It’s not that. It’s just, ok, for the past five years, it’s been the general belief that you essentially had your Uncle break up with me for you in like, the shittiest way. So, in general the Wens aren’t the Lans biggest fans. After Lan Xichen explained what actually happened, the adults are all coming around. Daiyu seemed to be also, but it might still take a while. I mean, yesterday she thought you wanted nothing to do with her.”

“Incorrect.” Lan Wangji would never not want anything to do with his child. He only wishes he had known about her sooner.

Wei Wuxian snorts, “Yeah, explained it to her last night. We shall see if she remains unconvinced.”

He hopes not. He would like to meet her. He would like to help raise her. He should move out here. “If Daiyu is amicable, how do you feel about me moving out here?” He should ask. It might be overstepping. They did break up five years ago, technically.

Wei Wuxian blinks, clearly surprised, “Ah, to spend time with Daiyu? I don’t know how your uncle would feel if you moved out here, maybe you could use the Nie’s cabin every few weeks, for visitation? That way you could still work, and meet people.”

Why would Lan Wangji want to meet people? He hates people. Wait. Lan Wangji considers the words, coming to the conclusion that it was a euphemism. But for- Oh. Ew. “No people. Only Wei Ying.”

Now Wei Wuxian was surprised and confused, and he chuckles awkwardly, “Lan Zhan, it’s been five years.”

“It’s only ever been Wei Ying.” Lan Wangji affirms, then, softer, “If Wei Ying no longer wishes for a relationship...” it would hurt, but he would get over it.

(He would not. He would spend his decades with the bunnies Wei Wuxian got him writing sappy love songs. As he’s been doing for five years. Although, in those decades, he might actually relent to Nie Huaisang’s plans of recording and selling those songs.)

Thankfully Wei Ying shakes his head, “Ah no! That’s not-” Wei Ying nods, and steals Lan Wangji’s wording, “Only Lan Zhan.”

It makes Lan Zhan smile softly, entirely entranced by Wei Wuxian, entirely in love with the man in front of him.

When they arrive at the school, there are children running about the front area on the grass. “Oh, they must’ve let out early. We still have ten minutes.” Wei Wuxian comments idly. Lan Wangji was curious as to what he planned for them to do for ten minutes, but that was moot now. Instead, Wei Wuxian was scanning the yard, presumably for Wei Daiyu. Eventually he seems to find her since he makes several ‘come over’ motions.

Soon enough a small child barrels into Wei Wuxian’s legs. “Oof. Nice to see you again too.” Wei Wuxian jokes, smiling down at their daughter.

Daiyu doesn’t look at Wei Wuxian, instead, still clinging to Wei Wuxian’s leg, she turns her head slightly to look at Lan Wangji. Lan Wangji’s breath catches in his throat, she had Wei Wuxian’s nose and chin. He crouches down to be on her level. “I am Lan Wangji, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Wei Daiyu.”

Wei Wuxian snorts, “You don’t need to be formal with your own daughter Lan Zhan. A-Yu,” Wei Wuxian puts a hand on Daiyu’s back, making the young girl look up at him, “this is your A-Die.”

Daiyu returns her gaze to Lan Wangji, “Why are you here now?”

“I was told where you were.” Lan Wangji states truthfully.

“How come you didn’t look for us?” Daiyu demands.

“I did.” Lan Wangji admits, making Wei Wuxian stop, blinking in shock, “But your A-Niang is very good at disappearing.”

Daiyu seemed to consider before nodding, accepting that answer, “Are you staying?”

“If you’ll let me. If you want me here, I will be here for you, for the rest of my life.” Lan Wangji promises.

Lan Wangji worries, for a moment, that they were the wrong words as tears well up in Daiyu’s eyes, but then she was in his arms, burying her face in his shirt, soaking it with tears and snot- not that Lan Wangji minded- telling him he was never allowed to leave. Lan Wangji wraps his arms around his daughter, holding her close with a soft smile on his face.

So, they were the right words.

Lan Wangji smiles up at Wei Wuxian, who seemed utterly relieved and happy, just smiling softly at the pair, Lan Wangji knows he still irrevocably in love with Wei Wuxian, and seeing him like this makes him confident that Wei Wuxian still loves him. With that, Lan Wangji knows with absolution, that he's moving out here.

Whether he tells anyone is still up for debate.

#Lan Wangji #Wei Wuxian #LWJ #wwx #my writing #Lan Xichen #Five Year Misunderstanding #cql #the untamed #also i learnt that kids start school at six/seven in china #so Daiyu has activities at the school\#and wwx wanted lwj to meet ayuan hence the wait until school was actually done #if Daiyus characters are wrong or something else is wrong pls tell me #I literally wrote this in an hour last night and have barely editted it #but also wanted to post it because I won't until next week if i don't now

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