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multiplefandomsblog · 4 years ago

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[Identity v] Luca x Gn!Reader (oneshot)

request; Oh yay!! Okay so I’ve never really had the best home life, so I really really REALLY like sweet, fluffy, domestic fics. I was thinking maybe Luca comes to the reader and sits them down and tells them about his kink or maybe he wants to have a kid and he realizes that he’s super into breeding?? And in the end he’s just super happy!!! Because after the accident!!! He thought he would be spending the rest of his life in jail!! But now he’s with his S/O!!! And he just loves them so much!!!! and they might have a kid on the way!!

Warnings⚠️!: tw; very light jokes about ped0philia, fluffy aftercare, breeding kink, they’re both living together, no prep, cussing, pretty much vanilla other than the breeding kink, reader has female parts, praising, sorta mating press, unprotected sex, more like making love than fucking, if that makes sense? minor begging, pregnancy talk, making the babies.

“Heyyyy~” Luca popped his head into your room. “What’s up?” You swivel around in your squeaky office chair so you’re facing him, resting an arm on your desk. He’s peaking his head out behind the door, gripping the edge of it strangely. He slowly reveals the rest of him, timidly walking towards the bed as if he had done something bad.

Oh no.

Something’s wrong.

He’s skittish, fumbling with his hands, showing a weak smile he spoke, “Um- I want to talk to you about something...” he pats the bed space next to him, inviting you to sit down. Oh no, oh god, he wants to break up doesn’t he? You two have been dating for 6 whole years. You’ve even moved in with each other, what happens after this?

You feel your heart pound against your rib cage, the pulsing making its way up to your ears. You hesitantly rise from your chair and walk towards Luca. You plop down next to him, then he grabs your clammy hand. “I um... I uh..” the suspense is killing you. You wait for him to just spit it out, and when he does... it’s... well, it’s something at least.

“I want to fuck children!” He blurts out, eyes widening at his mistake.

You rose your eyebrows, oh how you hoped you heard wrong, “I’m sorry, you what!?”

“Wait, n-no! No, no- THA-THAT’S NOT WHAT I MEANT AT ALL!” Sighing of relief, you looked at him expectantly, a look of, ‘You better explain yourself.’ glaring into his soul.

He clears his throat, retrying what he wanted to say, “No, I... What I meant to say was; I want to... p-put in a baby in you, as in, I want to have kids with you.” He managed to stutter out, not meeting your gaze. Your face contorted into shock, tears start to form in your eyes, and a bright smile spreads across your face.

In all honesty, you had been considering having children with him for a while, you just never knew how to bring it up, or if he even wanted children. So imagine your reaction when he confessed he wanted to have children as much as you did.

“Luca..! I-I’d love to have your child.” Words cannot describe how much you love this man. Kissing away your tears, he nuzzled his head into your chest, whispering I love you’s and sweet nothings.

You squealed as he suddenly shocked you, “Oh! Sorry, I’m just.. really really happy.” Laughing nervously at his bodily response to your hugs. Shushing him playfully, you brought him back into a gentle embrace, not wanting to stay away from him for a second.

After a comforting silence passed, Luca started talking again, “You know, I never thought I’d be able to live a moment like this... I never even thought I’d be free from prison, but here I am, with the love of my life.”

He caresses your stinging red cheeks with his hand and leans in to kiss you. You wrap your arms around his shoulders. Soon, an innocent kiss turns passionate, your breathing getting more irregular and your body getting pulled closer to his.

“H-hey, are you sure you want to start now?” He pulled away to search your eyes for any sort of indication that you didn’t want this. “We can always wait until you’re ready, I-I understand if this is still-” You cut him off with a kiss, a little too short for Luca’s standards.

Chuckling at your eager self momentarily, he carefully held onto you, an understanding look on his face. He still wanted to make sure you weren’t rushing into this for him, “Seriously S/o, we can wai-” You climbed onto his lip, “Put a baby in me. I-I’m serious, I can’t wait anymore.”

Grinning gently at your answer, he locked his lips back onto yours, groaning as he felt you grin down on his groin. Pushing you down swiftly on your bed, he moved his kisses down your body, muttering small words of praise as he slides your pants down.

You reach down to start to unzip his, and he helps you shimmy them off along with his boxers. Tapping his dick against your hole, he looks up at you, reading your expression for any uncertainty.

Finding none, he leans down to kiss you, pushing in slowly as he did. He groaned against your lips, your walls immediately tightening around his raw length. Clenching your own eyes shut, you dug your nails into his back, only egging him on.

“Love you so much baby-” quietly whimpering, he starts to slide the rest of it in, this is the first time you two have done it without protection; and he hopes it isn’t the last. You frantically nodded, panting for air as his hips start moving back and forth, pushing deeper in with each thrust.

He tilts his head back and moans softly as he feels your raw walls closing in on him. Your legs are spread-eagle on the bed and you reach your hands up to Luca’s face, bringing his face back down. “K-kiss me-! Please- Ahn!” He obeys, zero hesitation as he leans his body back down on you, moving his hips and kissing you passionately.

Soon enough, he feels an orgasm start to rise. Losing control for a split second, he threw your legs over his shoulders, pressing down on your body and hitting the deepest part of you.

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, helpless moans and broken pleas falling out your lips like waterfalls. He pulls his lips away from yours as he lets out a strained moan, your walls clenching around him so tight, he couldn’t handle it.

Grunting out moans of your name, he gripped your hips desperately as he aimed into your womb, knowing he wouldn’t last long with the way your walls sucked him in.

Leaning down to pinch your clit, desperate gasps and frantic panting followed, your orgasm washing over you like a beach wave. With a final deep thrust, Luca wasted no time to shoot his seed into your womb, unmoving as he waited for you to take all of it.

Hearing your quiet whimpers at the feeling of his cum filling you to the brim, he kissed your sweaty forehead softly, collapsing beside you to rest his head on your heaving chest, the both of you trying and catch your breaths’. You start playing with his hair, twirling the long brown locks around your fingers.

Sighing in contentment, “S/o, we’re... we’re going to have a baby..!” He whispers to you, voice cracking with excitement as he tried his very best to hold back tears at the thought of you bearing his child. Feeling him kiss your belly, you whisper back thoughtfully, a tired smile adorning your face, “A baby...”

Peppering kisses all over your stomach, he held you gingerly, carefully as if you were a glass doll. “Thank you,, for loving me and letting me love you. I have so many things to thank you for..! I- Where do I even begin-?” You cut him off with a goofy smile, “Hey. w-why are you looking at me like that?”

He tightened his grip around you slightly, smiling nervously at your expression. “I just hope our child inherits the same personality from you.” Your voice just barely above a whisper, you kissed his knuckles lightly, drifting off to sleep, and leaving Luca flushed and chuckling giddily at your words.

#mod toby #notsfw #identity v luca balsa #luca balsa x reader #luca x reader #luca balsa #identity v one shots #identity v #identity v prisoner #idv luca #Luca balsa one shots #Luca balsa smut #luca balsa x reader smut #luca balsa imagines #luca balsa oneshots #idv prisoner #idv prisoner x reader #idv fanfic #idv smut

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lunaekalenda · 4 years ago

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Hello! I hope it's okay to send another request, I always feels insecure about sending too much 😭 Anyway this is kinda weird so feel free to change anything that you don't like!

So, you know that the ackermans have that special person that they form a bond and always follows and protects them, right?

So what if Levi discovers that before the reader join the corps she used to live with Kenny (not romantically) and she's his host until for some reason they had to split up?

Thank you!

ofc! i hope you like it! <3 sorry for all the waiting hun! i hope i didn’t mess up your idea :’)

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❁ canon violence, non-canon events

❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁❁

“Stronger!” Levi commands you. You hit the practice mannequin harder, your knee finding its abdomen. Levi looks closely. He knows that way of fighting. He knows it too well. Analyzing every movement you do, every punch and every kick.

“Where are you from?” he asks. You stop hitting the mannequin to look at your captain. Sweat pearls run down your neck and your chest raises up and down fast. He handles you a bottle with water. You drink.

“From the Underground, sir. Mitras’ Underground.” Levi nods. He supposed that. As well as he supposed who taught you to fight.

“You learned there?” He asks. You nod, drinking a little bit more. He looks how your lips part from the bottle. "Who taught you?"

"Kenny the Ripper." you say. That's how he was known on the Underground. Levi nods.

“Do you mind if we drink a cup of tea while you explain me how did you met Kenny?”

After you took a shower and reunited with Levi near his dorm, he invited you to enter to the living room, where two cups were waiting to be filled with hot tea. You whispered “thanks” when Levi served you.

“Why do you know Kenny?” he asks. You take a sip of the tea before answering.

“He found me on a street, about to die of hunger.”

Someone steps on the piece of bread you were about to eat, leaving it smashed and full of dirt. You’re only six years, and you have been living like this all your life. Trying to get some bread from yesterday, some burnt pieces of meat people doesn’t want to eat. A tall and slim man stands in front of you. His hands give you a little bun. You look up at him: he’s wearing a hat and has two guns on each side of the hips. He gets on his knees.

“Are you okay? Where’s your mom?” he asks. You take a bite of the bun, so warm and soft.

“Mom died.”

Levi nods while he plays with the cup, his index touching the handle. Levi’s brows get frowned. Why the hell would Kenny Ackerman help a child?

“Continue, please.”

“He gave me something to eat and then let me sleep on his house.”

The tall man walked in front of you. Even when he looks kinda old, he kept walking fast, your tiny little legs couldn’t follow his rhythm. He looked back and found you bitting the bun.

“Come on, buddy.” he said, rushing you. You followed him as fast as you could, avoiding crashing with the people. He opened a door and let you inside. “This is your new room. It was my nephew’s...” You crawled into the bed, the softest thing you’ve ever touched. With the bun in your mouth, you tried to put your head on the pillow. “Uh- you’re going to choke! Put your head up while you eat, you little one!”

“I slept on his nephew’s room all the years I lived there, but never met him.” you say. Levi sighs before drinking a little. “He taught me how to fight, since a lot of guys wanted to get my food.”

The first day you went out to the market alone, you came back without food and without money. You were ten and some older guys kicked you and took all your things. Kenny asked why you were crying.

“Tha-that guys stole my things. The purse mommy gave me .” Kenny took a tissue and helped you to get rid of tears. He went out and came back later, when you where more calm, lying on the bed. He gave you your purse, empty but safe. “You found the bad guys?” Kenny nodded and sighed, taking his hat out. “You’re like a hero! You know how to fight?” Kenny looked at you and smiled a bit, before getting closer and make your hair a mess. “I know, buddy. And I’m going to teach you.”

Levi takes another sip, remaining silent. Kenny wasn’t a fan of children. He took care of Levi because he was his nephew, but you were just a random kid on his way. Why would he help you. Maybe he missed Levi and needed another child to take care of?

“So, you learned from him.” you nod. “How many years you lived there?”

“Since six to sixteen.” you answer. “Ten years in total.”

You entered home. You heard about the Scouts Captain, the one that is humanity’s stronger soldier. You didn’t know how amazing he was until you saw him. You went to Mitras to have a couple pieces of fruit, and an attack suddenly exploded in the center of the city. A black-haired man appeared, swinging from one building to another. That was the moment you decided to join the corps.

“Kenny!” you found him eating on the kitchen, his hat in the chair next to him.

“What’s up, bud?” he asks.

“Today I saw the strongest soldier! I want to be like him! I’m going to join the Survey Corps!”

Kenny’s gaze got lower. His nephew is considered humanity’s stronger soldier alive. He’s now your example to follow?

“Good decision, buddy. Go there and kick that old man in the ass.”

“Why did you join the Survey Corps?” he asks. You look to the ceiling, You didn’t want to tell Levi that you joined because of him. But, after all, it’s the truth.

“I saw you. On Mitras. I was amazed by you, I wanted to be like you. That’s why I joined.”

He looks surprised, but he clears his throat and moves to another thing.

“When you entered the military, you weren’t prepared.”

“That’s because Kenny always protected me like a father.”

Kenny kneeled in front of you, cleaning your wound with water. You frote your eyes with your hands, taking the tears away.

“You should kick them back.” He said. He clicked his tongue and kept healing you.

“But you were there to help me.”

“I know, buddy. But, someday, I won’t be here. I won’t last forever, you know? And I’m not that young...”

“B-but, Kenny, if you leave, who is going to protect me?” you asked, feeling how tears came back to your eyes.

“You’ll have to protect yourself, y/n”

“Like a father, huh?” Levi says for himself. He takes what’s left on the cup and stands up. “Okay, thanks. I think that’s all I wanted to know.”

“Thanks to you, Captain Levi.”

Levi looks at you. He asks.

“Do you know Kenny’s surname?” He asks.

“I’m Kenny Ackerman. And you?”

“I’m y/n” you said in quiet voice. He looked at you.

“What about your surname?” he asks. You raise your shoulders. You don’t know.

“Oh, shit. Should you use Ackerman as well?” he thought in high voice. You stayed there, looking at him, interested.

“Ackerman. It was also his nephew surname.” Levi smiles a bit and looks at you. His grey eyes seem hurt, but he’s smiling after all. “I always wondered if his nephew was as good as he was to me”

“I don’t know. Judge me by yourself” Levi smiled and left you there, thinking about his answer.

Was Levi, the strongest soldier, Kenny’s nephew. Was Levi’s bed the one you used all the nights? Was Levi the boy you always wanted to know more about?

You wanted to ask him, but the Captain left with his cup, proceeding to fill it again.

You’ve been always so close to his nephew.

Did Kenny know it when you told him you wanted to join?

Is Kenny proud of him?

Did Kenny give the same attention to him that to you?

You have a lot of questions on your head and, luckily, the Captain is talkative today.

#aot x reader #aot fluff #levi attack on titan #aot fic #aot fanfiction #aot scenario #snk x reader #snk fluff #snk headcanons #snk fic #levi x reader #levi #levi ackerman #levi x y/n #levi x you #kenny #kenny ackerman #kenny aot #kenny snk

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voidcat · 4 years ago

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Characters: Oikawa Tooru/Reader

requested by @tpwkatsumu , prompt 14

wc & genre: 1k – slice of life & emotional hurt/comfort

a/n: it wasn’t mean to be that long or personal...... also thank u Nic for helping me figure out which genre this fits into dsffgf <33

Sometimes, realization hits at times so random, you keep doing whatever it is you are doing. The change can be so drastically big yet it comes as one returns home after so long, there’s no point in making a fuss.

It happens like that too and all you can do is keep munching on tha slice of pizza as a random sitcom plays on the screen.

That’s how he enters too, invites himself into your life with a carefree attitude so natural, it feels the two of you have been like this for eternity.

An instant click, a part of you thinks, it’s wonderful how despite the few shared interests you have, you two can get along so well.

Oikawa reminds you what makes conversing with someone for hours so fun, he can infodump about volleyball all he wants and you won’t find yourself yawning once. He keeps looking around for you when you’re not around and you never grow tired with him by your side.

Then comes few moments that fele unreal, you’re at a loss of what to do and how to feel. Little secrets of intimacy, whisper secrets and old confessions, things that have eaten him inside for years and stuff that has rotten inside your soul.

What a funny coincidence, you hear someone talk about the old myths concerning humans and soulmates later that week, “According to Greek mythology, humans were originally created with four arms, four legs and a head with two faces. Fearing their power, Zeus split them into two separate parts, condemning them to spend their lives in search of their other halves.” rises a quote from Plato’s Symposium and you decide that’s what the two of you are. Two competible souls there for one another. Soulmates do not necessarily share romantic interests after all.

But then comes bad things as swiftly as the good ones.

Settling with what you already have, being content, leads to passiveness; you remember a bit too late.

And so you find yourself one night on the balcony sipping wine as your best friend celebrates his engagement party, talking and laughing, having the time of his life.

Yet it doesn’t sting as you expected it to be. Maybe because you knew you had a place in his heart no matter what.

After all it was an usual night when you realized you loved Oikawa Tooru. The anticipating building of sings and events led to it one night. All you could do was to let out a small “Oh.” and return to your oatmeal right after. It was natural, it was easy, it was how the two of you have been since forever.

So when Oikawa finds you by yourself that night, you’re not even surprised. He would notice sooner or later than something was off, you could hide for only so long.

“Ive been looking all over for you!” He says in the singsong voice of his you grew too familiar with. A smile takes over your face before you can notice but it must be one of those he sees rarely; because his eyes change and lips are pulled to a firm line. You want to swipe it off, worry shouldn’t take over his aura when the night should be a happy one.

“You wouldn’t get it, Tooru.”

“When have I not understood you, helped you? Tell me.” And he is right, he always did and even though he couldn’t possibly relate, he would understand.

“Things been coming at me, a lot, again. Not in a kind way this time. I’ve found happiness in some things lately and was content but it’s this stillness that will bring me my end. I settle with what I have, I don’t push like you do, take a step into the darkness, I don’t want to take risks too ahead of me and lose what I have. But this stillness of me, like grass or sedge, it grows too inanimate and people think suddenly dies away the light in me. And now I have these problems in general, a madness at my ineptness, trouble at work and my turtle...”

The moon shines upon the house, in a celebratory light, however the only ones to enjoy its delight are in the dark.

“Why... why didn’t you tell me?” He sounds hurt, probably feels betrayed that you kept all this from him, despite the worries and the pain, your face is dry. Still, Oikawa cups your cheek gently, more a motion to meet your eyes, to show he cares and he’s here.

“Because you were happy.” is all you can say.

A gulp.

“Because you looked so happy, and it was your happiness that was enough for me. I love you, I think I’ve loved you for a while now. I never said anything because I knew, you loved me in a way, I didn’t want to pursue anything romantic because it was your friendship and care that was enough for me too.”

“I’ve learnt with you the many other ways to love and be loved. Confessing anything could make things complicated so I settled with all your love I could get. Because you never missed movie nights, always tagged along to newly opened cafes by my side. You were there when I was in grief and you were there when a partner of yours would accuse us for having an affair.”

“I think it’s time I move on too. To out the things I’ve learnt from you to use. But I don’t know what to do- I don’t-”

Rest of the words die out on the physical but he hears them all loud and clear, embroidered into the night.

And still, despite all that you’ve said it feels as it always was. A thought you knew of all along, gaining a name only now.

“Just- Please be my best friend right now, not the guy I just confessed my love to.” you find yourself say, voice unfamiliar and too far away.

“Then- Hear me out.” He says and holds your hands. “Tonight, let’s take one last night off and celebrate the newcomings of our lives. And tomorrow, we will take that first step, together.”

It seems easy, just like letting him into your life was. He takes another step towards you and puts his hand on your heart. “Because no matter what, I’ll always be by your side, right here, as long as our hearts beat and we breathe in and out.”

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pluto-writes · 4 years ago

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Drunken Confessions| Haru Kato

A/n: I needed a drunk, blushing Haru in my life, say thank you to episode four everyone. Also, I just realized my birthday lands on the same day ep 5 comes out (〃^∇^)ﾉ very happy about that. (I know I said requests are closed but;;; if any Haru fans wanna... you can.) Not proof read, I’m tired and just wanted this done.

Words: 3k

It has officially been two years since you’ve joined the Modern Crime division, and to celebrate your accomplishment, your colleagues decided to have a small gathering for you.

Everyone was congratulating you, and praising you for your service and dedication for the past couple years. It warmed your heart knowing how much everybody cared about you. Mahoro even brought you some of your favorites candies as well, and it definitely made your night so much better.

It all ended too soon for your liking, but it was getting late and everyone still had to go to work early the next morning. The only person who hasn’t left yet was Kato Haru, a fellow co-worker of yours who started working in the same division not that long before you. You guys had that in common, and naturally drifted towards each other.

Now that you think about it, you hadn’t seen much of him tonight. You didn’t realize that earlier since you were too busy being surrounded by people.

“You’re not leaving, (L/n)-san?”

“No,” you answered, walking around the room collecting the leftover trash left laying about, “I’m gonna hang back and clean up. It’s the least I can do since everyone was kind enough to host a party for me.”

“Then I’ll help you too,” you heard the sound of wood clattering. You looked over to where you heard it and saw Kato grabbing a broom and dust pan.

Dumping the empty cans and used napkins into the garbage, you went over to him and attempted to take the supplies from him, “It’s fine, Kato-san. Really. I can do this myself.”

“It’s no problem,” he shook his head at you. “Plus, I can’t ignore someone in need of help!” He flashed you a pure smile as he continued to sweep the floor. You can’t believe how generous he was sometimes.

He always made a point of helping others, even when it wasn’t necessary, or didn’t benefit him in any way. Maybe that’s why you fell for him so hard.

Taking a deep breath to calm your beating heart, you responded with a simple, “Thank you.” And continued with your cleaning. You tried your best to not invade his personal space, being alone with him and doing something so domestic as cleaning reminded you of things old married couples would do together.

After a couple minutes, the room was back in its original state. You had to admit, if Kato didn’t help you, it would've taken you longer to finish.

“You did a good job cleaning,” you commented. He was both fast and efficient, it wasn’t a half assed job.

His face grew red from the compliment, “It’s nothing. Just something I learned since I live alone,” he rubbed the nape of his neck nervously.

“I see…” The atmosphere grew slightly awkward since you couldn’t think of anything else to say. “Well, I’ll be going now, Kato-san. Thank you for all your hard work.”

“Actually…” He called out right before you left, “I was wondering if you’d want to come to my place.” You stared back at him, confused as to why he would suddenly invite you to his apartment. Unless he meant- “N-not in tha-that way, o-of course! It’s just that…” He cleared his throat before speaking again. “I have a bottle of soju for you and I left it home.”

“Is that all? Then you can just give it to me tomorrow, there’s no need to trouble yourself.”

“It won’t be any trouble at all. Besides, it’s for you to celebrate this occasion. Wouldn’t be much of a gift if I don’t give it to you the day of.”

Knowing how stubborn he was, and how he won’t let this go, you agreed with him and followed him back home. The walk there was peaceful, and conversation seemed to flow more easily now that you were out of work.

There were a few times where you caught yourself walking too close to him that you felt his hands graze past yours, you had the urge to hold his hand and keep walking like nothing happened. But you refrained yourself from doing so, he was a co-worker, and it would be unprofessional to do so.

The two of you finally made it to his apartment, you trailed behind him as you walked up the stairs. It was a normal apartment complex, rightfully sized for someone who lived alone.

Once you reached the door, Kato unlocked it and stepped inside. “You can wait here, it’s too cold to wait outside.” He started to take off his shoes, and placed them on the floor, then ventured further into his apartment.

You listened and waited for him at the entrance hall. This was your first time at his place despite knowing him for two years, it had just never come up. You took everything in, it was a tad messy but you knew that just meant it was well lived in.

Looking around more you saw some magazines laying on the table, and all his pots and pans hanging on the kitchen wall. ‘That’s right… he can cook too. I wonder if I’ll be able to try it one day.’

“Sorry to keep you waiting,” his voice broke you out from your thoughts. “Here you go.” He handed the bottle of soju in a bag over to you with a smile. You smiled back at him.

“Thank you, Kato-san.” You peered into the bag, and saw how much he had actually given you. The bottle was huge! You thought it would be those 12-ounce bottles.

Your shock must have been visible since he asked you, “Do you not like the flavor I picked out?”

“No, no. That’s not it all. It’s just a lot of alcohol. Especially considering that I don’t think I’ll be able to drink all of this by myself.”

“Let’s open the bottle now then! It’ll be a lot less lonely if we drink it together. And I can see your reaction when you try it too!” He got himself excited thinking about it. “You can leave your shoes here, and wait for me at the table. I’ll bring some shot glasses and something to snack on as well.” He walked off towards his kitchen.

You checked the time on your phone, ‘Just one drink won’t hurt, would it?’ You thought as you bent down to take off your shoes, and left them neatly against the wall.

You walked to the table and sat down on the floor. Curious, you opened the bottle and took a whiff. It didn’t smell strongly of alcohol, it smelled more like something fruity. But you knew that was deceiving and wouldn’t want to drink too much of it.

Turning the bottle around, it revealed the sticker on the front that showed a picture of a strawberry. “So it’s strawberry flavored… hm…”

“Yeah,” Kato came back, placing a plate filled with snacks on the table, then put a shot glass in front of you and one in front of him. “Have you tried it before?”

“No. I don’t drink that much, so this will be my first time drinking soju too.” You gave the bottle to Kato, and allowed him to pour some into your cup. Once it was filled, you took the cup and waited for him to fill his own.

“Then I’m honored to share your first drink of soju. This stuff is really good.” After his cup was filled, he lifted the glass towards you, “For two years!”

“For two years!” You cheered after him and clicked your glasses together. You drank the liquid, and felt it run down your throat. It didn’t give you a burning sensation as other drinks do, and tasted pleasant. You could totally see yourself drinking more, but you knew that if you did you’d regret it the next day. “This tastes really good!”

“Right!?” He began to pour himself a second cup, “I usually don’t get this one for myself, but I figured you’d like it.” You were still on your first cup, you wanted to take it slow and savor it. You could always drink more another day. You could feel yourself start to loosen up with the alcohol in your system.

You continued talking with Kato, and saw him slowly start to lose his filter. You were right to not drink too much, he seemed like the type to handle his alcohol, but his face got flushed with each couple sips and his words began to slur together.

It was cute seeing his composer dissolve, since he’s always professional at work and took his job seriously. Getting to see this side of him was worth

“Ugh.. And don’t get me started on Kambe… He’s insufferable.” He mumbled into his glass as he drank more, “Thinks money is the answer to everything.” You guys somehow got onto the topic of your colleagues, giving your opinions on them and retelling stories about them that made both of you laugh.

Before he could rant more about Kambe, you interrupted him. “Can I ask you something, Kato-san?”

“Go ahead.”

“I’ve been thinking, we’ve worked together for a while. And we’re somewhat close, right?” He nodded along to what you were saying. “Can I call you by your first name?” He froze as you said that, and covered his face with his hand.

“Ah! Uhm…” His face grew hotter.

“I understand if that’s too much! It’s just that, the Chief calls you by your given name. You can call me by my first name too!”

He averted his eyes, “D-don’t… Don’t tease me like that…”

“What do you mean?”

“When you say stuff like that... It gives me hope.” He laid his head on the table, his cheek resting against the cool wood. “It makes me think that I’m not reading anything wrong… That you might like me back…”

“You like me!?” You asked, shocked. “I’m sure there are other people who are much better than me.”

“Tha-that’s not true! Not one… one bit! You are an amazing person!” He sat up in his seat, and used his hands to prop himself on the table. “You make me want to improve myself.. And do right by you…”

He leaned over the table, his face closing in on yours, close enough that you can smell the faint scent of alcohol from his breath. “There are too many reasons to list…” With him directly in front of you, you could see how clouded he eyes looked from the liquor.

He brought his face in front of yours, and closed the remaining distance between your lips. His lips locked onto yours, and he pressed deeper into the kiss. Stunned by the abrupt kiss, your mind didn’t register what was happening until a couple seconds later.

“Wa-wait!” You shoved him off of you. He whined at the loss of contact, and breathed heavily as he regained his breath. “We shouldn’t be doing this! You’re drunk right now! I don’t want to take advantage of that.”

“Ah…” He touched his lips, “Your lips felt so soft…” The blush on his face intensified. Deciding that enough was enough, and that you wanted to stop anything further from happening, you stood up and went to his side.

“Haru.” You said sternly, your eyes strict, clearly showing you meant business.

“Y-yes!?”

“I think it’s time you went to bed.”

“Bed!?” His eyes widened. “(L/n)-san! Don’t you think this is going too fast!?”

“Not us. Just you. You’ll thank me later when you’re more sober.” You picked him up from under his arm and guided him to his bed, and gently laid him there. “Go to sleep.”

“Huh? But I’m … I’m not tired…” Knowing that was bullshit with the amount he drank, you humored him until he eventually fell into a drunken stupor.

You pulled out your phone and looked at the time, “It’s way too late to leave now…” You said to yourself. “I guess I can fix things up around here.” You checked on Kato again to make sure he was sleeping before you cleaned up the table and carefully stashed the strawberry soju, just in case he woke up in the middle of the night and wanted to drink more.

Once you finished clearing the table, you headed towards the kitchen. “Pardon the intrusion.” You looked in the cabinets to find a cup and to hopefully find a cloth of some sorts. After you found a cup, you filled it up with water and placed it on the table next to his bed.

“I still need to find something to put on his head…” You whispered to yourself, “The bathroom maybe? And I could probably find some painkillers as well.”

You opened the door to his bathroom, then opened the mirror cabinet that was above the sink. You ended up finding a bottle of Advils. ‘Jackpot.’ Twisting the cap open with a satisfying pop, you took out two gel pills. As you were putting everything back in its place, you caught sight of a hand towel laying on top of the rim of the bathtub.

You grabbed the towel too, so that you can use it to cool him down. Now back at his side again, you placed the two pills next to the glass of water, so when he woke up he’ll see it and take them.

With a sigh, you walked back into the kitchen and ran the hand towel under cold water. You yawned as you made it back to Kato, and gently sat the cool towel on his forehead. He was still knocked out, and lightly snored with every exhale.

Tired from everything that had happened today, you became drowsy, and watched as his chest rises and falls as he breathes. You eventually fell asleep, your head resting on his mattress.

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

Sunlight shined past the curtains and hit Kato directly in the face, “Ugh..” He groaned as he sat up. “My head is killing me…” He rubbed his face, trying to collect his thoughts from last night. His eyes then landed on you, your body was splayed across the floor next to his bed. “(L/n)-san...?”

He got out of his bed too fast, causing his blood to rush to his head and face plant onto the floor next to you. The thud of his body woke you up from your slumber. “Mmh…? You up yet, Kato-san?”

“You can say that…” He sat up straight on the floor, “My head hurts even more now…”

“Oh,” you peeled yourself off the floor and picked up the water and pills, “here.”

“Thank you,” he quickly popped the pills into his mouth and drank the water.

“You probably won’t feel better for another hour or so... “

“It’s fine…”

You shuffled in your spot, feeling awkward by what had taken place the night before. “Uhm… Kato-san, can I borrow your kitchen? I can make you something to help with your hangover.”

“Hangover…? That’s right, we drank together didn’t we?”

“Mhm,” you agreed. “You more so than me though.” You stood up and walked over to the kitchen, opening the fridge to see what you could make.

“What do you mean?”

Choosing to at least spare him of the embarrassment, you left some of the truth out. “You got really drunk, and started ranting about our co-workers.”

“I- I didn’t say anything weird, did I?” He asked you worriedly.

You pretended to think about it, “Hm...No. I don’t think so.” You took out a few ingredients before you spoke again. “You can go take a bath while I cook. You wouldn’t want to show up to work smelling like alcohol.”

“Right… I’ll go wash up.”

He left his spot and headed towards the bathroom. After he left, you let out a deep breath. “Ahhh!” You covered your face with your hands, “How am I supposed to face Kato-san now!?” You graced your bottom lip with your finger, “His lips… were soft too… But I can’t tell him about that! I’d die due to humiliation!”

While you were contemplating on what to do, you failed to notice the footsteps closing in on you. “(L/n)-san?”

Startled by his voice, you jumped. “K-kato-san! What are you doing?”

“Oh, I forgot to take my clothes with me,” he gestured by shaking them in his hand, “and I wanted to make sure you were able to find what you needed.”

“Yeah, I found what I needed. Thank you for checking in on me.” He went back into the bathroom, and you heard the sound of the water running follow after. “I can’t make it obvious, or he’ll catch on. He’s really good at reading people. All I can do now is finish cooking breakfast, head to work, and throw myself into the void, to never be seen again.”

A few minutes later, Kato came out of the bath with a towel around his neck, his hair was still dripping. “You were right, (L/n)-san. I did thank you later.”

You glanced over to him, “See, I told you so.” You arranged the food neatly on the plate and placed it on the table.

He put his hands together, “Thanks for the food!”

You repeated after him, “Thanks for the food.”

Kato took a few bites of the food and smiled at the taste, “This is really good! You really are an amazing person.” You dropped your food as he said that. ‘Shit, he knew. He had to have known.’

“Umm… Kato-san… I-”

“I hope you know I really meant it, even if I was drunk. And what happened about calling me Haru,” he smirked at you, “(Y/n).”

“H-haru…” You tested his name out, still nervous about everything that’s happening. “I think you’re an amazing person too…”

“Glad we’re on the same page now. Let’s finish the food before it gets too cold, I wouldn’t want to put your cooking to waste.”

#fugou keiji balance: unlimited #Haru Kato #kato haru #fugou keiji balance: unlimited x reader #haru kato x reader #haru katou x reader #haru katou #fugou keiji x reader #plutowrites #the things I do for you haru :/#alternate caption was gonna be; no thoughts head empty only haru kato #rip to my 2 request I'm sorry but it's haru....#kato haru x reader #katou haru x reader #sidenote: i dont like fish and i dont think i ever will but #if he made me his kato family special with the tuna and bonita flakes i will greatfully eat that #thanks for coming to my tedtalk

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cheri-translates · 4 years ago

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[CN] Gavin’s Mark Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a call which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

The date begins on a winter day, with MC receiving a call from Teacher Zheng

Teacher Zheng used to be MC’s music teacher in Loveland High, and her mentor in the school orchestra. They continued keeping in touch even after MC graduated

Teacher Zheng informs MC that the renovations for the Teaching Building have been completed, so she invites MC back to school to have a look

She also asks her to bring Gavin along :>

MC recalls what happened back in summer, when she and Gavin had returned to Loveland High

In summer, Teacher Zheng found an old scrapbook while clearing the rooms in preparation for the upcoming renovation, and invited everyone from the orchestra to return

[Note] Everything from here onwards takes place in a flashback:

I sneak a peek at Gavin, who is standing beside me. He’s wearing a simple, casual t-shirt. In his eyes, there’s a flash of nostalgia and... nervousness?

MC: Gavin, don’t be nervous. I’ve already talked to Teacher Zheng. She’s welcomes you to participate in our gathering. Also, it’s been such a long time since everyone last met, so it’s a certainty that there’ll be some people who have changed completely. They might even think that you were their ex-classmate haha~

Gavin looks at me and nods lightly, a faint smile appearing on his lips.

Gavin: Mm, I know that you’ve arranged everything.

Gavin: If we’re talking about being nervous... as compared to that time, it’s still pretty all right today.

MC: That time?

Gavin: That time in spring.

[Note] Blushy Boy is referring to the New Year Date T^T

While he says this, sunlight happens to fall onto Gavin’s eyes. There is light undulating in his amber eyes, and it tugs at my heart beat.

I recall the moments from back then. Feeling my face heat up from the sun, I hurriedly change the topic.

MC: Let’s go in, it’s almost time!

Gavin: Mm, let’s go.

As they enter the school, MC wonders if the renovation work would render Loveland High different from the Loveland High in her memories

While she ponders on this, they enter the music room

Apart from a few instruments, only a few empty cupboards and chairs are left in the room

Teacher Zheng is sitting by the piano, and MC is greeted by both familiar and unfamiliar faces

Although we didn't arrive late, I pull Gavin along and we walk forward hastily.

MC: Sorry, I didn't expect everyone to arrive so early... I’m MC.

Female ex-student: Of course we know who you are! Weren’t you the one who contacted everyone just a few days ago? Leader MC is still so dazed~

Teacher Zheng laughs while shaking her head, and the surrounding ex-students also laugh along with her. Abashed, I tuck a strand of hair behind my ear.

In contrast to everyone’s laughter, Gavin doesn’t really know what’s going on. He turns, looking at me in confusion.

Gavin: Leader?

I’m a little embarrassed to explain, since this was something that happened many years ago. I didn’t expect this matter to be brought up right now.

Male ex-student: MC was the leader of the school orchestra. Did you forget? Eh, come to think of it... you weren’t from the orchestra, were you? Leader, why didn’t you tell us earlier that we could bring our family members?

Laughter resounds again. At a loss for words, I can only pull Gavin over and introduce him to them.

MC: Stop laughing already! This is everybody’s senior!

Gavin: ... [coughs]. My name is Gavin.

In a split second, the noise ceases abruptly. After a moment of silence, whispers surface in the crowd.

Vaguely, I can catch a few phrases.

“Bad.”

“Fighting.”

“Misfit.”

...

I was so focused on getting Teacher Zheng’s approval that I forgot about the many rumours among students in his grade.

Feeling as though my heart has been violently grabbed by someone, I subconsciously clasp Gavin’s hand very tightly. Yet, I don’t dare to look at his expression.

MC: Senior... Gavin is a very good person. What happened in the past didn’t happen like what you all heard! Also... also, he’s very good at playing the guitar and bass!

Perhaps I was too emotional and couldn’t control my volume. My voice was not only loud, but also trembling slightly.

The music room turns quiet, and all the soft discussions stop.

Only now do I regain my senses and realise what I had just done. Facing everyone’s gaping and shocked expressions, I hem and haw awkwardly.

MC: I-I mean...

Suddenly, I feel a warm hand on the top of my head.

In contrast to my flustered state, Gavin looks incredibly calm. He doesn’t seem to care about everyone’s comments at all.

He tousles my hair, and his gaze softens.

Gavin: You’re exaggerating. I only know how to play them, that’s all.

Teacher Zheng: Student Gavin knows how to play musical instruments, so that’s something we can all talk about.

Teacher Zheng helps to smooth things over. A few students cough lightly, and make sounds of agreement. The tension in the air finally eases.

I release a breath. Just as I’m about to apologise to Gavin for my lack of thorough preparation, he suddenly lowers his head and draws close to my ear.

Gavin: Thank you.

Although these words of thanks are so soft that only the both of us can hear them, they crash heavily onto my heart, messing up its rhythm.

After that incident, everyone starts getting nostalgic about the past. Eventually, some ex-students prepare to leave because they have other things to do

MC takes out her Polaroid camera and requests for a group photo before they leave

Gavin: I’ll help you take the photo.

MC: Hm... you could help us take a photo first, then join us for the next one? I’ll hold the camera.

Gavin is slightly stunned. While he hesitates, Teacher Zheng makes a decision for him.

Teacher Zheng: That’s a good idea. Since you’re already here, you should take a photograph as a memento.

I nod my head at the side, like a chick pecking rice grains on the ground. Gavin looks at me, then laughs softly.

Gavin: Got it.

Very quickly, we take our group photos, and a number of students leave. They leave one by one after saying goodbye to Teacher Zheng. In the end, only Gavin and I are left.

Teacher Zheng: Aren’t you two leaving?

MC: I will... We will accompany you for a while longer.

Teacher Zheng: Not rushing off for a date?

Date! I feel as though my entire face is just about to flush red. Before I can retort, Gavin has already answered her question naturally.

Gavin: It’s all right, the date has been shifted to next week.

MC: ...Gavin!

Seeing Teacher Zheng suppressing a grin, I feel even more shy. Gavin, on the other hand, tilts his head towards me, a perplexed look in his eyes.

Gavin: What’s wrong?

I have no choice but to let the heat on my cheeks continue to rise, and frantically think of how to divert the topic.

MC: Nothing... oh yes Teacher Zheng, you mentioned that you found a scrapbook from back them. Could I have a look?

Teacher Zheng gives me a knowing glance, but she simply blinks and responds.

Teacher Zheng: The things here have been tidied up and brought to the greenhouse. The two of you can go there afterwards. It’s in a box labelled “Music Room”.

While she speaks, she takes out a set of keys from her pocket. When I reach out for them, the key suddenly spins and is held firmly in Teacher Zheng’s hand.

Teacher Zheng: Before I let you two go there, I have a request.

MC: Eh?

Gavin: Please continue.

I react by subconsciously nodding my head along with Gavin. From my memory, Teacher Zheng has always been a gentle and soft person, so I have no idea what request she has.

Teacher Zheng: Just now, MC mentioned that you play the guitar and bass incredibly. Could you let me hear it? It’d be best if the two of you could play together. I haven’t heard my Orchestra Leader play the piano in a very long time.

To be honest, this is not a “request” at all. If Teacher Zheng wants to hear it, I’ll definitely be willing to play for her. But Gavin...

I cast Gavin a probing glance, wondering if there’s a need to persuade him. To my surprise, he nods.

Gavin: I could, but I’m really not as skilled as she says.

Teacher Zheng: Haha that’s all right. I just want you to use your heart when performing. What’s important isn’t how good it sounds, but the heart.

Gavin: Could I borrow the guitar over there?

Teacher Zheng: Of course.

With her answer, Gavin walks to the guitar case leaning against the wall, and retrieves the guitar to test the sound.

Baffled, I look towards him, then at Teacher Zheng. I can’t fathom how they reached a common understanding so quickly, so I just plop myself in front of the piano.

MC: What should we play?

Before I finish speaking, Gavin’s fingers sweep over the strings.

After a few notes, I recognise the song.

It’s “Falling Slowly” - a song I’d often play in high school, and a song I like very much.

[Note] I’m assuming the song is “Falling Slowly” by Glen Hansard and Marketa Irglova because the lyrics suit them very aptly -clutches heart-

Gavin: Is this song all right?

MC: Ah... mm.

As far as I remember, I don’t think I’ve ever mentioned this song to Gavin. Why would he suggest this song? Could it be a mere coincidence?

Even though I’m confused, I quickly focus on the music and follow the guitar’s melody, my fingers dancing across the black and white keys.

In my peripheral vision, I see Gavin with his head lowered slightly.

The wind tousles his hair. Maybe it’s just my misperception, or the sunlight just happened to fall onto his eyes, but I keep feeling as though his eyes are even brighter than usual. It’s as though they are flashing with light.

This is a slightly melancholic song, but the moving light and wind seem to make it refreshing and clear.

Before realising it, I’ve already completely immersed myself into the music. I close my eyes, and the notes and melody drift in the air.

Finally, the tune ends. The sound of applause at my ear brings me back to my senses.

Teacher Zheng: That was an amazing ensemble.

MC and Gavin: That’s an overpraise.

We respond in unison. Teacher Zheng lets out a smile in response to this, then takes out the set of keys again.

Teacher Zheng: As I promised earlier, here.

MC: Thank you!

I hurriedly take the keys, then dangle them in Gavin’s direction with a satisfied smile.

Sunlight falls onto the corners of Gavin’s shirt, and the leaves rustle. He smiles as well.

Gavin and I walk out of the music room. As compared to noon, the sunlight is less intense now, and the path towards the greenhouse, shaded by shadows cast by the trees, is cooling.

MC: Gavin, I remember you mentioning that you don’t like playing the guitar in front of others... why did you agree to the ensemble?

Gavin: Because I felt that you really wanted to look at that scrapbook. Besides, I wanted to see what “Leader MC” looked like.

MC: Oo... let’s agree that if you see any strange photos, you’re not allowed to laugh at me...

I recollect several “dark histories” I used to have, and involuntarily break out in sweat. Gavin laughs.

Gavin: Of course I wouldn’t. Actually... I agreed to the ensemble for another important reason.

MC: What is it?

Gavin: I said that I wanted to play this song with you before.

Gavin’s words are akin to a droplet of water, causing waves to ripple across my memory. It makes me recall that phone call he once made a very long time ago, and the music from those dusty years.

[Note] Yes, she's referring to this cancelled CN call T^T

MC: Back then... you learnt the guitar because I played “Falling Slowly”?

Gavin: Mm. After we talked that day, I realised I didn’t know the name of the song. Now, I do.

Gavin’s smile morphs from resignation to relief. Light from his amber eyes reflect into mine, and I seem to enter a trance.

It’s as though I’ve gone back to the past, and am walking along the shaded path after school. Just that this time, there’s one more person by my side.

A person who has walked from the past to the present with me.

They reach the greenhouse, but they see tons of boxes stacked atop each other

They split up to look for the “Music Room” box

Finally, MC spots the box at the corner, but has to bring down boxes in order to reach it

While she tries to grab the box on her tiptoes, it topples towards her:

Not having enough time to dodge, I lift my hands in front of me, hoping to buffer the collision!

However, the pain I anticipated doesn’t arrive. Instead, a warm gust of wind encases me.

I put down my hands slowly, only to see Gavin, who has suddenly appeared. His arms are lifted as he holds onto the box, and his other hand is on my shoulder, bringing with It continuous warmth.

Gavin: Are you all right?

MC: I’m fine... oh yes! I found the music room box. It’s over there, the one in the middle!

Gavin: I see it. Move over there a little. I’ll get it.

Knowing full well that I’d cause trouble even by standing at the side, I listen to him and shirk to a corner, watching as Gavin brings the boxes down.

Sunlight pours in through the glass. When I finally see that he’s almost able to reach for the box we need, I turn to Gavin excitedly, but discover a sheen of sweat on his neck.

Even so, Gavin continues to carry a box steadily in his hands, the lines on his arm muscles defined.

I want to go forward to help him wipe off the sweat, but I don’t dare to move around recklessly, and decide to change tactics on how I can help.

MC: Is it a little hot? I can buy a bottle of water for you. The mini mart should still be open.

Gavin: No need. Just two more and I’ll be able to get it.

MC: Oo... I’ll still get water. Anyway, there are other items I want to buy too.

While saying this, I leave no chance for Gavin to retort. I turn around and run to the mini mart.

By the time I return to the greenhouse, Gavin has just set down the final box.

My heat stirs. I take out the ice-cold bottle, wanting to give him a fright. But Gavin suddenly turns around--

His eyes are wide open, and they shift between the bottle I’ve lifted in the air, and my awkward expression.

MC: Erm... water for you.

Probably guessing that I was up to something, a smile appears on Gavin’s lips, but he doesn’t expose me.

He takes the bottle and easily twists the cap open. He hands it back to me, then takes another bottle for himself.

Gavin: What else did you buy... stationery?

Apart from two bottles of ice water, the plastic bag from the supermarket also contains two pens, a few post-it notes, and a stick of glue.

Looking at Gavin’s confused expression, I deliberately place a finger on my lips secretively.

MC: You’ll know what they’re for later~

The cold water slides down my throat, and the heat dissipates instantly. After Gavin and I take a short break, it’s finally time to open the box!

The cardboard box releases a “cha” sound, as though opening the doors to memories as well.

A rather old yet well-maintained scrapbook is resting atop a wad of music scores. I gently lift it up.

MC: Look, we drew the picture on the cover ourselves.

Gavin: The drawing looks very nice. Is this the orchestra’s symbol?

I nod, and start telling Gavin about the picture we drew, photos from various activities, and even the teacher’s message...

Occasionally, Gavin would ask me one or two questions, but most of the time, he listens to me quietly, his gaze focused.

Eventually, as the remaining pages become less and less, I finally flip to the last few pages, which feature messages.

MC: Now that we’re done, let’s commence the next step!

From the plastic bag, I retrieve the stationery. After handing one pen to Gavin, I point towards an empty space in the scrapbook.

MC: Write something?

Gavin: Hm?

MC: For example, your memories from high school? Basically, those messages everyone writes in a scrapbook.

Hearing my explanation, Gavin seems increasingly confused. His brows knit together slightly.

Gavin: I know. But I’m not part of the school orchestra, and this book...

MC: You are from now onwards!

I take out the group photo we took in the music room, then retrieve the glue stick, carefully pasting it in the scrapbook. Then, I clear my throat pretentiously.

MC: Cough cough, in the capacity of orchestra’s leader, I hereby announce that from this day onwards, Student Gavin is one of our members. Everyone, please give him a warm welcome!

After saying this, I start clapping, and even pull Gavin to clap together with me.

MC: Now, you can write! Next time, if anyone speaks nonsense, we can show them the scrapbook, and no one will be allowed to call you a misfit, hmph.

When I bring this up, I can’t help but feel angry. Gavin laughs softly.

Gavin: [laughs a gentle, beautiful laugh that can make flowers grow] So you were thinking about that.

Watching him laugh at me, I feel slightly petty. I hem and haw and think of how to explain myself.

MC: I wasn’t. I just... didn’t like it when they looked at you that way.

Gavin: I know.

It’s almost evening. Golden light falls onto Gavin’s cheeks, outlining his hair - glittering and slightly unkempt.

Gavin lowers his head, and the light follows his movement, descending onto the scrapbook, illuminating every word he writes.

“I’m very happy to have met you in the past.”

Very near to these words is the group photo we took together. In it, Gavin is standing beside me, looking a little cramped, but there is a smile on his face.

The soft chirping of cicadas mixes with the sound of wind, evoking a sense of tenderness. The sun is no longer as blazing as it was before.

I can’t bear to shatter the tranquility, so I just smile, my heart responding softly with this sentence:

I’m also very happy... that you’re willing to leave a new mark on my past.

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc gavin #I hope you're ready for mind-numbing fluff because I was NOT #this is a pretty old CN date which should be coming this December #but I'm weak for school reunions

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accioromione · 4 years ago

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Things that people/characters judge Ron by /use as a joke that makes 0 sense to me

So as we all know. We read the books from Harry’s point of view. Here are my issues with how Ron was treated.

1. His food habits - this has to be the most annoying part about the series. J.K Rowling is partly to blame. She is always highlighting how Ron’s on his ‘sixth chocolate frog’ or how he’s always hungry, or going further on about his food habits, that it overrides moments of when Ron shares food or plates it for other people. For instance

'Course, once Dumbledore turned up on your side, there was no way they were going to convict you,' said Ron happily, now dishing great mounds of mashed potato on to everyone's plates.

One sentence, simple, no elaboration, just a simple ‘on to everyone’s plates’, much easier to forget than something like this

'Oh, yes,' said Nick, who seemed glad of a reason to turn away from Ron, who was now eating roast potatoes with almost indecent enthusiasm. 'Yes, I have heard the Hat give several warnings before, always at times when it detects periods of great danger for the school. And always, of course, its advice is the same: stand together, be strong from within.'

'Ow kunnit nofe skusin danger ifzat?' said Ron.

His mouth was so full Harry thought it was quite an achievement for him to make any noise at all.

'I beg your pardon?' said Nearly Headless Nick politely, while Hermione looked revolted. Ron gave an enormous swallow and said, 'How can it know if the school's in danger if it's a Hat?'

'I have no idea,' said Nearly Headless Nick. 'Of course, it lives in Dumbledore's office, so I daresay it picks things up there.'

'And it wants all the houses to be friends?' said Harry, looking over at the Slytherin table, where Draco Malfoy was holding court. 'Fat chance.'

'Well, now, you shouldn't take that attitude,' said Nick reprovingly. 'Peaceful co-operation, that's the key. We ghosts, though we belong to separate houses, maintain links of friendship. In spite of the competitiveness between Gryffindor and Slytherin, I would never dream of seeking an argument with the Bloody Baron.'

'Only because you're terrified of him,' said Ron.

Nearly Headless Nick looked highly affronted.

Terrified? I hope I, Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington, have never been guilty of cowardice in my life! The noble blood that runs in my veins -'

'What blood?' asked Ron. 'Surely you haven't still got - ?'

'It's a figure of speech!' said Nearly Headless Nick, now so annoyed his head was trembling ominously on his partially severed neck. 'I assume I am still allowed to enjoy the use of whichever words I like, even if the pleasures of eating and drinking are denied me! But I am quite used to students poking fun at my death, I assure you!'

'Nick, he wasn't really laughing at you!' said Hermione, throwing a furious look at Ron.

Unfortunately, Ron's mouth was packed to exploding point again and all he could manage was 'Node iddum eentup sechew,' which Nick did not seem to think constituted an adequate apology. Rising into the air, he straightened his feathered hat and swept away from them to the other end of the table, coming to rest between the Creevey brothers, Colin and Dennis.

'Well done, Ron,' snapped Hermione

As you all see, J.K Rowling went out of her way to make the way Ron is eating noticed, and the way Harry and Hermione react to it. I absolutely hate this. I hate how the characters look at his food habits and I hate the way readers now remember him by. Ron is about 6′3 (maybe even taller), he is a teenage boy who is GROWING, and is also skinny. It is COMPETLEY NORMAL for him to eat like how he does. He is the YOUNGEST SON of 5 older brothers, he is used to having to eat food quickly. I don’t understand why this became a thing of judgement, he is allowed to be hungry. When other character’s are hungry, it’s fine, no one addresses it, but when it’s Ron of course Hermione has to look disgusted. Meanwhile, look at the reaction’s the occur when Harry is hungry...

"So you persuaded Horace Slughorn to take the job?"

Harry nodded, his mouth so full of hot soup that he could not speak.

"He taught Arthur and me," said Mrs. Weasley. "He was at Hog-warts for ages, started around the same time as Dumbledore, I think. Did you like him?"

His mouth now full of bread, Harry shrugged and gave a noncommittal jerk of the head.

"I know what you mean," said Mrs. Weasley, nodding wisely. "Of course he can be charming when he wants to be, but Arthur's never liked him much. The Ministry's littered with Slughorn's old favorites,

No looks of disgust from Mrs. Weasley? If it was Ron I bet you Mrs. Weasley would have been like, ‘slow down Ron!’ or something to shame him for being hungry and this is just not O.K. LET RON EAT. LET HIM BE A GROWING BOY. WHY DOES HE HAVE TO BE SHAMED FOR BEING HUNGRY?

Okay onto number 2. His insecurities.

In my opinion, it started off O.K and then after GOF it became something that was like..characters were like ‘yeah O.K Ron’s insecure we get it,’ like in GOF Hermione goes from understanding him to the point where she explains to Harry, don’t you see, it’s hard for him always being compared to people, to OOTP where she’s like shut up with your jealousy Ron you’re sooo annoying. It particularly pisses me off in HBP when Hermione is like going out of her way to compliment Harry and Ron is clearly annoyed with it. And Hermione just ignores Ron like it’s an inconvenience that he’s insecure. I personally would never go out of my way to compliment one friend and ignore the other, especially when tha other friend looks bothered. We see this trend with other characters, who make fun of him for being insecure. The whole Weasley is our King is literally a song that abuses Ron’s lack of confidence in order to make him choke up in quidditch, and no one thinks nor cares about the seriousness of just how insecure Ron is that even other houses can recognize it to use it for their advantage. They just roll their eyes at it like ‘ugh Ron stop being insecure’ and I feel like he deserved more sensitivity, rather than make it like, Ron needs to stop being an insecure prat. Harry is the KING of brushing out other peoples problems because he’s Harry Potter and he has BIGGER PROBLEMS. They ignored Ron to the point where Harry was surprised as to what was coming out of the locket, Harry should have known, he should have not treated it like a minor inconvenience.

Number 3. His lack of ‘compassion,’ or ‘empathy’

We see it highlighted a few times. Harry has described Ron as lacking empathy in situations, or in being too blunt. And these situations tend to be, well, not serious situations, they’re also situations where he is 14 years old. However, when Ron is showing empathy and emotion it’s always brushed off. Like how he cried during Dumbledore’s funeral. Or how he was dealing with Harry’s tantrums, or how he was able to diffuse tension with jokes. It makes Ron appear as if he’s emotionally underdeveloped, but this is not the case, Ron lacks in lady knowledge, what teenage boys don’t? The reality is that Ron knows when to be serious, he IS emotionally mature. When Sirius dies he doesn’t interrogate Harry like Hermione does, he knows when to draw the boundary and respect space.

Number 4. His status.

It’s often highlighted how he is poor, is a ‘nobody’, or is Harry’s friend by other characters. We see it in HBP with the slug club, we see it with the Slytherin’s. Here is my issue with this...yes he is a Weasley..but let’s look at all the Weasley’s. We have Bill, a curse breaker who married a Veela, Charlie a dragon hunter, Percy, who is high up in the ministry, Fred and George, who have a funny swagger and are popular with everyone, and Ginny, Ms. Badass. I just don’t understand why he was the only Weasley who really got made fun of for being well, a Weasley, why was it RON? Even in the slug club I don’t get it, Slughorn liked people with connections, wouldn't he have had connections by Bill being is brother, or like his aunties? Cormac was taken in because of his uncle...And of course Ginny get’s invited.

Number 5. The downplay of his accomplishments and the highlight of when he messes up.

By convenience we don’t get to see How Gryffindor won the quidditch cup in fifth year because of Grawp, but we got to see him failing miserably before-hand. We don’t see him duelling the death eaters in the ministry, but we see him with the brains, although we know what he’s done, due to another character, or Ron telling us what he’s done, the readers get a limited amount of how many times that is actually described.

Number 6. The tone J.K Rowling uses with Ron’s descriptions.

Huge pet peeve of mine was how J.K Rowling decided to describe Ron’s owls marks. She gave Harry’s all laid out, and all we get for Ron is ‘Harry saw no O’s’ only to see that next book, they’re cleared for the exact same classes, meaning he got Exceeds Expectations in everything Harry did, like wtf? With ‘Harry saw no O’s’ that could mean 11 P’s, the only reason we know this is not the case is because Ron highlights how he only failed divination and history of magic, and how Molly says he got more than the twins combined. Without this, readers could have assumed anything as all they had to go by was ‘Harry saw no O’s,’ UGH it still bothers me.

All in all, I think there was a tone implied in the novels that tried to downplay Ron’s character. And it’s sad because I think J.K Rowling knew she created such a likeable complex character, so she downplayed it. Making Ron suffer in the process.

#Ron Weasley defence squad #Ron Weasley #harry potter #hp #Hermione granger #rant #jk rowling

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scapegrace74-blog · 5 years ago

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Satellite Mind

A/N I can’t stop myself. I’m weak! Weak! The Saorsa-sequel is coming along, but the Metric universe just won’t leave me alone. This story takes place just after Lost Kitten and Gimme Sympathy. Previous fics are available on my AO3 page.

Oh, and mild warning for foul language, if that’s not your thing.

The song by Metric that inspired the title and a few lines is here.

January 14, 2017, Spittalfields, England

“I’m happy for you, Geillis, really. I mean... Cartagena, wow. You can, what? Dabble in the emerald market?”

Her friend saw right through Claire’s glass face to her latent fear of abandonment. Fiercely independent, a precious handful of friendships and habits anchored her in the world. Without those tethers, she lived with a nameless dread that she might spin off into the void, lost in a great emptiness.

“Dinna lie tae me, Claire Beauchamp. Ye havna left yer bed in the twenty-four hours since I told ye. Ye’re jus’ starin’ up at the ceiling. Ye ken I wouldna ever want tae leave ya were it no’ for someone truly special. Juan Carlos, he’s...”

“Built like a stevedore and hung like a stallion, I believe were your exact words,” she interrupted, smiling despite herself at Geillis’ moonstruck infatuation. The redhead had met the Columbian businessman at a New Year’s celebration and now, two weeks’ later, had dropped the bombshell that she was planning on following him back across the Atlantic in the spring, leaving Claire without a roommate just as her income was nearly halved by the commencement of her medical studies.

“Aye, he is that. Everyone thinks I’m mad, but it’s the real thing between he and I. I jus’ feel it. Ye’ll ken the feeling yerself one day. But I willna leave ye high an’ dry. I’ll see ye settled, a’fore I go.”

Claire doubted that very much. It was Geillis’ name on the lease, which meant that as soon as she gave notice their landlord was free to increase the rent. Spittalfields was moving upmarket as one dilapidated industrial building after another was converted into lofts and chic office space for the urban gentry. There was no way she’d be able to afford the new payment at their current flat, even if she could find another roommate she could stomach. And moving out on her own was equally out of the question. The ghost of her past mistakes haunted her most when she was alone.

***

February 2, 2017, Royal London Hospital, England

“Are you out of your fucking mind?” A metal spoon clattered into the break-room sink and a few other nurses glanced over, trying to decide if bloodshed between the two was imminent.

“Tis is a matter of some debate,” Geillis replied, undaunted. She’d expected this reaction, which was why she’d cornered Claire during the short overlap between their shifts when she couldn’t run away. At least the British Army had left Afghanistan, although South Sudan was still a possibility.

“James Fraser. You approached Jamie Fraser, without my permission I might add, to find out whether he still had a room to let. I cannot fucking believe you, Geillis Duncan! Where do you get off...”

“First,” Geillis interrupted the predicted tirade by holding up her index finger, “you yerself remarked on his lovely flat, and how fastidious he was. Second, tis in the neighbourhood an’ right around the corner from tha’ chipstand ye love. Third, ye’re both shift workers and will hardly see each other. Fourth, if ye do bump inta the wee fox cub when he’s runnin’ about in his skivvies, weel, thas a hardship many a lass would be willing tae face in yer place. And fifth,” here Geillis raised her palm and outstretched fingers right in front of Claire’s nose, “ye can afford it.”

Claire huffed, but was otherwise silent. She couldn’t deny that Geillis’ points were mostly valid, but she hated the idea of accepting charity from Jamie, of being seen as a burden. If she’d approached him herself, perhaps...

“Wait a second. How did you even know Jamie still had a room to let? Have you been in contact with him?” Something toxic simmered in her belly. Geillis and Jamie texting each other. Talking about her behind her back. Sharing intimacies from which she was excluded. It was a flashback of a feeling that hit too close to home for comfort.

“Och, no. Didna I tell ya? I ken the lad’s uncle, Dougal Mackenzie. Bald as a billiard cue, but tha’ man can fuck for hours. I remember one time, we were...”

“Oh my god, Geillis, please tell me you didn’t cheat on Jamie with his uncle!”

“It canna be cheatin’ if ye were ne’er together tae begin wi’,” Geillis pronounced. “Ye’re too ecclesiastical by half, Beauchamp. T’anyway, I hadna met Dougal when yon lad and I had our... dalliance. But imagine ma surprise when I showed up tae meet Dougal at Bethall Fire Station in a wee red dress tighter than a nun’s chuff, an’ standin’ right next tae him is the fox cub, face turning bright as a forge. Twas an awkward moment tae be sure, even measurin’ by my very high standards.”

***

February 13, 2017, Spittalfields, England

“Ye’ll be wantin’ tae look about the kitchen, I reckon. Twas the only room ye didna really see, when ye were here last. An’ the storage locker, but there’s nought down there but sportin’ equipment tha’ reeks tae high heaven. No’ that I dinna try tae wash out the stench, mind you.”

Jamie resolved to limit himself to two word sentences for the rest of the tour. Anything more was too great a risk to his dignity.

“It’s lovely, especially with the morning sunlight streaming through the windows. How much is the monthly heating bill again?”

It was almost Valentine’s Day and Claire still didn’t know where she was going to live come March. She’d flipped through free rental magazines and scrolled a few message boards, but hadn’t made any serious efforts to secure a new home. She told herself she was too busy preparing for medical school and working full-time, but in the back closet of her mind she allowed the idea of moving in with Jamie to take root.

Then, last night while drifting through the deep fog just before sleep she’d had a thought. Living with Jamie would finally put an end to all of Geillis’ awkward match-making efforts. If they were roommates, they couldn’t be anything else besides. Rolling over and grabbing for her phone before she could second-guess herself, she fired off a quick text to the number Geillis had added to her Contacts under Wee Fox Cub. Despite the late hour, two minutes later he texted back. And now here she was, seriously contemplating the impossible.

They were sitting across from each other on the couch, negotiating terms. Claire found herself making ridiculous demands, somehow hoping that Jamie would balk at the last minute and this perilous adventure would come to its natural end.

“I’ll be studying when I’m not on shift, so loud noise and music is a deal breaker for me,” she listed while eyeing the bowl of trail mix set out on the coffee table.

“I own a good pair o’ headphones, and my sister would tell ye there’s a reason I dinna sing outside o’ the shower. Did ye want some?” Jamie extended the bowl in her direction, but she shook her head.

“If I’m to live here, the flat will need to be ours equally. I know you lived here first, but I’d be paying half the rent. That means we share common elements down the middle. Half the cabinet space, half of the refrigerator and freezer.” She looked around the main room, where it was obvious Jamie did most of his living. “I’d want to put my desk below the window there, where there’s lots of natural light. I don’t want to always be hidden in my bedroom like some low-rent AirBnB guest.”

“O’ course,” Jamie quickly agreed. “I can clear out some of my books and such from the shelves as weel. And I was thinkin’ of movin’ the Xbox inta my room. There’s ano’er TV in there, ye ken, so ye won’t be exposed tae my tears while I’m watchin’ Six Nations matches.”

“That won’t be necessary, Jamie. I really don’t have many things. Some holdover to my years living out of a suitcase with my uncle, I suppose.”

He was being altogether too agreeable. It was time to break out the big guns.

“We need to talk about one last thing. Some might think it usual for a young woman who is single, living with a young man who is single to feel a certain...”

“Wha’ makes ye think I’m single?” Jamie interrupted, and she snapped her mouth shut in surprise.

“Well, with your history with Geillis, and I’ve never seen you with someone, I just assumed...” she trailed off, fighting down the urge to bolt.

Jamie laughed. “I’m teasin’ ye, Claire. O’ course I’m single. Do ye think I’d be contemplating inviting a bonnie lass tae share my flat if I were spoken for?”

“Well, that’s just the thing, isn’t it? People might make assumptions. One of us might do so as well. Feelings would get hurt. So I think it’s important to be very clear at the outset. You seem like a lovely man, but there will never be anything between us.”

“Because of my history wi’ Geillis, y’mean?” Jamie asked.

“Well, that as well. But also because I’ll be far too busy with work and my studies to sustain any kind of relationship, least of all with someone who, when things fall apart, would be in a position to leave me without a roof over my head. I’ve been there before, and I don’t intend to ever go back.”

“Aye, I see.” Jamie nodded absently, obviously digesting this large morsel of information and not finding it entirely to his taste.

“So that’s my final stipulation. I don’t mind if you have overnight visitors. You’re a grown man, and you can act as you please. But we need to agree that any kind of romantic relationship between us is off-limits.”

Claire grabbed a handful of snacks and popped them into her mouth. She observed Jamie as she chewed. In retrospect, this was a brilliant move on her part. If Jamie accepted, she would have solved for both her housing crisis and her ambivalent feelings towards the Scot. And if he declined, well, that would tell her something too.

Squaring his shoulders, Jamie extended his hand.

“We’re agreed.”

And that was how Jamie and Claire became just roommates.

#my writing #outlander

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svnthxsense · 5 years ago

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summer lovin’

Genre/Rating: Fluff, angst / PG-13

Warnings: Fem reader, cursing, no happy ending, somewhat suggestive content (?)

Summary: With Jeno at your side, trips to amusement parks, flower fields, beaches and more became your daily routine. But then autumn came, and you were left aching for his presence again.

Word Count: 6.5k

Author’s Note: I do have a playlist that somewhat goes with the plot. This is a standalone in Neo Tech High School. My apologies for posting this later than anticipated and if the Keep Reading function doesn’t work on mobile, it’s not my fault ;(

The last day of school is every student’s favorite day of the school year. By this time, the craving for freedom and warm weather courses through everyone’s veins. Knees shake and fingers twiddle in anticipation of the last bell ringing. And usually, you’d be no different from the rest of the kids. This time around, though, you find yourself in the hallway with your cheeks practically burning from Jeno’s unwavering gaze and intoxicating smile.

“Y/N, the period’s practically over. Let’s just chill here for a while,” he whines shamelessly. You roll your eyes in an attempt to cover up the giddy feeling in your chest increasing with every minute spent with Lee Jeno. “I know you don’t want to sit through another one of Mr. Choi’s lessons.”

You realize how easily you lost track of time. When Jeno’s hand gently pulled your wrist in the hallway, it was almost an instinct to follow him. Summer was inching its way into your bloodstream, and you were practically begging for an escape from long school days and the workload that followed you home. So, when Jeno offered you a perfect escape, you took it with no hesitation.

You two stop in front of a window overlooking the school’s garden in an empty hallway towards the end of the school’s east wing. Although Jeno was a pretty amazing student, he had learned his tricks to skipping class. You, on the other hand, never really skipped school while on the premises. Leaving early or not going at all seemed like a much better option. Suddenly you find yourself wondering just how many times Jeno has skipped class with someone at his side.

Almost as if he knows you’re thinking about him, he turns to face you abruptly with a gummy smile teasing the corners of his lips. You try your hardest not to be affected by it, but his smile is as contagious as the common cold. A lopsided grin graces your face as you admire the boy in front of you.

You two hadn’t been close until recently when he sparked up a conversation with you in one of your elective classes. Suddenly, you found yourself talking to him a lot more and sitting with him and his friends at lunch. The cool breeze that contrasted with the bitter heat of the sun made your skin tingle as you laughed along with some of the most hilarious people you’d ever met- Jaemin, Renjun, Haechan, and Mark. You found yourself looking forward to seeing them during the summer, and especially Jeno.

“What’re you thinking about?” He asks curiously, his nimble fingers toying around with the hem of your school blazer.

“Summer,” You breathe out in the midst of a sigh. You can practically taste the relief you’ll feel when the final bell rings. “Honestly, 3:30 cannot come soon enough.” At this, Jeno giggles like a literal child.

“You’re so impatient, babe. Only 10 more minutes.”

You try not to get wrapped up in his use of names, but it doesn’t work and you mentally curse yourself for smiling so widely.

“Babe?” You tease, slightly raising your eyebrows. His giggle returns before he shoves you playfully. Both of you begin laughing and suddenly, you’re backed up against the window sill. With his arms on either side of you, he leans in so close that you can smell his minty breath and musky cologne. You find yourself staring at his lips with the urge to lunge forward shamelessly, but you use every last bit of willpower to resist that urge.

“Am I not allowed to call you that?” His grin would make you want to punch him if you didn’t enjoy the sight so much. Not trusting yourself to use normal words, you simply shrug in response. “Y/N- with nothing to say? I’m surprised.”

At this, you ball your hand into a fist and punch his bicep lightly in conjunction with glaring at him. One thing you had figured out by now was that Jeno took every single opportunity he could to flirt his ass off. At first, it would make you stop dead in your tracks; your body would freeze and your muscles would tense so harshly that even Jeno would get concerned. By now, however, you were more than accustomed to his sly remarks and the pet names that accompanied them.

“Don’t flatter yourself,” You breathe out, checking the clock on the wall for what seems like the 100th time today. 6 more damn minutes. The time isn’t moving as quickly as you wish. As much as you love spending time with Jeno, you know you’re charting into dangerous territory. Not to say Jeno is a player, but you’re aware of how situations like this go. You’ll have fun for some time, probably buy into your feelings much more than you’ll admit. The attachment will inch its way into your soul, and then something will happen and you’ll be left with an ache in your heart. Sad romance movies taught you enough.

“Are you going away this summer?” He asks with curiosity tainting his voice.

This is your opportunity to stop everything before you go head-first into something that would most definitely harm your emotions. All you have to do is say yes, you are going away. All you have to do is lie, and you’ll be free of the potential heartbreak that you foreshadow accompanies the smiling boy in front of you.

“No, I’m not,” You find yourself saying instead.

As soon as that bell had rung, it was like you and Jeno were suddenly inseparable. He had texted you just about every day about going somewhere new. The first time was to the movies. A new action movie had just come out and Jeno had always been a fan of the lead actor. You didn’t think much of it, tagging along with him mindlessly without any inhibitions.

In the movie theater, you had expected teenage boys geeking out over the CGI and plotline. Much to your surprise, the large room was packed with couples. Jeno, of course, knew it would be like this. You could tell this much solely based off of the smug grin plastered on his face for half the movie as his arm came down to wrap around your shoulders. You tried not to think much of it, simply clearing your throat and shifting in your seat to get more comfortable. It didn’t help much; every inch of skin he touched ended up feeling tingly and warm.

“How’d you like it?” He turned to face you as he asked, his signature gummy smile gracing his face. You loved this smile- when his eyelids turn to slits and his smile is so wide that his cheeks bulge a bit. “I wasn’t sure if this was your kind of movie.”

“I liked it,” You lied, because you hadn’t been focused on the movie at all. Then again, who could be when there was a beautiful boy next to you, acting so comfortable and touchy towards you? It shouldn’t have been a big deal because it wasn’t, but it was. It was a huge deal that the warmth of his body made you feel so bare and vulnerable but so comforted at the same time. It was a big deal that not one ounce of your being could focus on the movie with his arm pulling you into his side.

You two stood up from your seats in unison, shuffling out of the movie theater with your almost-empty soda and popcorn containers. Jeno looked so genuinely proud of how the movie turned out as if he were the lead actor himself.

“I’m glad you enjoyed it. I’ve been obsessed with the idea of this movie since the teaser came out.” His kilowatt smile never faltered as he went on about his favorite parts of the movie, getting especially worked up over the CGI as you had expected. You felt enchanted watching him speak with so much passion, it was shocking. The topic seemed like something he could have conversations about for days and days on end, even if he got tired of it.

“Thank you for coming with me, Y/N.” He had turned his body to face you after walking you to your house, the only lighting was the dim porch light and the moon. You had no other choice than to look at the boy in front of you in all his beautiful glory- bare face, glasses, a comfy sweater that hung loosely around his upper body, his black jeans. How could someone so simple be so intoxicating to be around?

“Thank you for inviting me.” Your voice came out quieter than you intended, eyes focusing on his shoes instead of his damned face. Jeno was silent, standing there waiting for you to make eye contact once again. When you finally did, everything seemed to be in slow motion. He leaned his face close to yours with an achingly slow intensity before he pressed his soft lips to your cheek in such a tender manner, you could’ve sworn that he could hear your heartbeat quicken.

“I have a feeling I’ll be inviting you to a lot of places.”

The next time that you two had met up was when Jeno had come to your house, begging you to accompany him and the rest of the boys to the amusement park. It hadn’t taken long to convince you, the simple whine in his voice was enough to waver your stubborn ways. You had contemplated your decision fully during the car ride to the crowded amusement park, and although you wished you’d said no, you knew there was no going back.

Amusement parks didn’t actually bother you, you quite enjoyed them for the most part. Crowds weren’t exactly your favorite, but rollercoasters and arcade games were definitely your style. Jeno simply smiled at every attraction the group shifted to. In the arcade, you had blown at least 20 dollars while beating Renjun and Jaemin consistently at a car racing game. During bumper cars, Jeno let you drive after a good five minutes of bickering. Of course, Haechan and Mark made it their mission to bump into your little car every chance they got. Despite that, it was the first time you’d had that much fun in what felt like a lifetime.

On the drive home, with the rest of the boys in the front two rows of the van, you and Jeno had opted for the third row. Having been so exhausted from the day’s activities, Jeno leaned his upper body against one side of the van and swung his legs over the rest of the seats. You were too tired to oppose what was to come, fatigue lacing every fiber of your being. So instead, you climbed in between his legs and rested your head against his chest. The soft thumping of his heartbeat and the warm embrace of his arms had you falling asleep before you even realized, cuddled up to the boy who was slowly but surely sinking his claws into your heart.

“Y/N! Come on, get down here!” Jeno whisper-shouted up to you, where you stood from the comfort of your bedroom. With the window cracked open, you had already heard the soft purr of his car engine as he was pulling up to your house. It was four in the fucking morning, but regardless of the lethargy that almost made your body ache, you felt the need to accommodate his request.

“You suck.” You retorted, throwing one leg over your window sill before hopping down. Your room was practically ground-level, so sneaking out had never been a problem. Given, you’d never snuck out with another person, nor did you go very far for an extended amount of time. Sneaking out usually consisted of you going for a walk to your local convenience store and getting a midnight snack. This, though, sneaking out to god-knows-where with Lee Jeno- this was something you’d never done. “Where the hell are you taking me?”

“The beach.” His smile illuminated his face, especially under the moonlight just as you had remembered it did when you walked home from the movies. It was utterly contagious- the sight of his pearly whites tugged at your lips, forcing them into a grin. With a roll of the eyes, you followed him to his slightly old pick up truck.

You recalled the story he had told you behind the truck, saying that his dad had a pick up in high school and he used to sneak out on dates with his mom. Heat immediately spreads throughout your whole body when you realize how similar this situation is, except you and Jeno had never talked about your relationship. You assumed you two were at least seeing each other, but you also didn’t hold the expectation that it was exclusive. After all, it was summer break- and you knew of no teenager who wanted to be in a serious relationship during such a time.

The radio played loud enough that it bled from the open car windows, escaping into the night air as he drove along the highway. Jeno tapped his fingers along to the beat atop the steering wheel, his glasses hung low on the bridge of his nose and his bangs tickled his eyebrows. You had always thought he was the most beautiful like this, in minimalistic clothing with the signature Tom Ford frames of his glasses adorning his face.

The beach was a decent ways away, but you didn’t mind. It was only when he had pulled into the empty parking lot adjacent to the beach that you realized you hadn’t brought anything beach appropriate- most importantly, a bathing suit. You pushed the thought out of your head, convinced that Jeno wouldn’t go swimming at this time of night when the ocean water was bitterly cold. Jeno hopped out of the truck with you trailing behind him. His backpack hung off of one shoulder, a beach blanket slung over his other arm as both of you maneuvered over the cool sand. After finding a spot that seemed to satisfy him, he laid down the blanket delicately. The wind had made it a challenge to keep the blanket down, but eventually, neither of you cared enough to keep adjusting it.

“I hope the water isn’t freezing.” He frowned, tossing his glasses atop his backpack and kicking off his sneakers before tugging his t-shirt over his body. The way you gulped provoked a shit-eating grin to make its way onto his face. Seeing how you visibly bit back your nerves at the sight of the skin that was stretched tautly over the muscles of his abdomen created a surge of confidence within himself. Clad in a pair of sweat shorts, Jeno raced daringly to the shoreline, leaving you to collect your thoughts in the meantime. Without a second thought, he threw his body into the crashing waves as he screamed in enjoyment.

With crossed arms, you let yourself wander down to the shoreline slowly. Jeno’s eyes are on you, a challenging facial expression sending adrenaline through your bloodstream. You wished, at this moment, that you had packed a bathing suit. But there seemed to be no going back.

“Y/N, the water isn’t even that cold!” He exclaimed, egging you on to come join him. Your thoughts are deeper than they should’ve been, reminding yourself that you won’t always have youthful summer vacations when you step into the real world. If not now, then never.

His eyes practically bulged out of his head, the daring nature in the air dropped as soon as your pants did. His eyes only grew wider when your shirt followed suit, seeing the plain undergarments that somehow looked so sultry embellishing your skin. With tentative steps, you waded into the slightly cool ocean with your eyes never faltering from the moonlight-reflecting water. The air smelled of salt, sloshing sounds filling the air as you came face-to-face with the stunned boy.

The two of you were decently deep into the water, the waves moving just barely above your bra-covered nipples. You didn’t feel insecure under his intense stare, though, his eyes setting fire to every inch of your body. His hands found your waist underwater, pulling your closer to him firmly.

“You’re right, the water isn’t cold,” You mumbled, one hand running over his chest before finding its way to his jaw. The breeze carried the smell of salt along with Jeno’s intoxicating cologne- musky and delicate all at the same time. A smell that so addicting that you were almost certain it would be considered a drug.

“You,” He started, moving his hands until they found purchase at your hips. His grip was assertive, silently commanding your attention and relaying the message that you were not going anywhere anytime soon. “Are so beautiful.”

With the tension thick in the air, you threw caution to the wind and eagerly trapped his lips in yours. Your mouths seemed to flow in unison, every movement causing a smooth transition to the next. Tongue slid against tongue, swollen lips upon swollen lips. His kiss overpowered your senses, overran your preoccupied mind, and took your breath away- literally. By the time you two separated, you were shamelessly gasping for oxygen.

You weren’t sure how you ended up on the beach blanket rather than the water, with Jeno on top of you kissing your thoughts away and his drenched shorts still clinging to his body. His body glistened, having still been saturated from your swim session. The sky was no longer a dark contrast between the twinkling stars and the dark abyss of space, a faint warm-toned light beginning to merge with the deep blue.

“Jeno.” You were breathless, trying desperately to hold on to your sanity while being so lost in him. It was dangerous territory, you knew, but you couldn’t bring yourself to stop. This was inevitable- you recognized how utterly crazy you were for him from the moment he first talked to you in class.

“Yes, babe?” His tone was innocent as he gracefully pushed away the strands of hair that fell in front of your face. The caring look in his eyes was like an eraser, leaving no trace of any doubts that you once had. You were done for. “You okay?”

“With you, I am.”

When he gave you a smile that could light up the world in response, you pulled him back against you with a new-found need. You got lost in each other’s warmth, losing all grip on reality and time. A baby blue color now painted the sky, puffs of white clouds further enriching the scenery. This moment, with Lee Jeno at your side- this moment was one you’d remember for eternity and even after that. The insecurity of what was to come of your relationship still tainted a part of your heart, but it was no match for the utter bliss you felt while falling in love.

The spontaneous adventures hadn’t stopped there. Jeno had found numerous places to take you to: a new coffee shop that had just had its grand opening, a flower field on the other side of town, an overpriced but damn-good gelato spot. For weeks, boredom hadn’t crept up on you for a second- not with him to sweep you off on such trips. Things were good, for a while.

Your first argument happened after a night out with Jeno and the rest of the boys. Somehow, someway, your relationship became a topic with the guys jokingly pressuring Jeno to make it official. The sly remarks had gotten to him, and he stormed away from the dinner table to catch his breath. Of course, you followed after him in the hopes of comforting him. Unfortunately, you can’t comfort someone who doesn’t want to be comforted.

Jeno dismissed your presence in the nicest way he could, softly asking if you could get a ride from one of the other boys while he cleared his head. You tried to swallow the thick lump of hurt that was threatening to obstruct your throat before whispering an ‘Okay,’ already feeling the wall being built between you two.

The topic of your relationship hadn’t come up after that, and even you knew better than to bring it up. In reality, though, even if you did want to talk about it, you didn’t get many chances. Jeno and communication seemed to become distant friends. The adventures slowly but surely stopped, and the only time you’d see him was when the boys had their weekly hangouts that you had been invited to from the start. He was still the caring boy that you knew, but his eagerness to be with you had noticeably wavered.

You had tried, more times than you care to admit, texting him. It happened more so at night when you could feel the aching, empty feeling in the wake of his absence. You missed him, more than you thought you would. It was a foreign feeling, the longing for something that seemed so close yet so far. Jeno was like a lighthouse, but this one kept moving farther and farther away the more you tried to inch closer.

One night, you finally heard the faint hum of his pickup truck pulling up to your house. It was three in the morning this time, and you used every ounce of willpower you possessed to resist the urge of flinging yourself to your window. Instead, you sat up a bit in your bed with your phone in your hand. It was easier to pretend, you realized, to act like Jeno didn’t have an effect on you.

“Y/N!” He called quietly, his face coming into view through the glass. It felt like every nerve in your body was on fire again, something so simple as his smile making you feel dizzy. He looked the same as he always did, and you would’ve been lying if you said you weren’t completely jubilant to see his face after what seemed like forever. “Come on, let’s go!”

Your willpower wavered, and you practically flew to the window clad in leggings and an oversized shirt that you later realized to be Jeno’s. It didn’t occur to you whatsoever until you were both on the ground, toe to toe and staring at each other. His eyes lingered over your figure, and his smile grew even wider after he recognized the shirt he had given you after your time on the beach.

The memory seemed so distant, like a whole different time. In reality, it hadn’t been that long- maybe a month ago. How quickly things changed, you thought to yourself. The recollection made your heart drop into your stomach. Though, sadness was a common feeling for you at the time. The other boys still texted you all too often, offering you any comfort they could, but even they knew the inevitable. Jeno would slowly but surely break your heart.

“Where are we going?” You wistfully forced out, hoping the conversation would distract you. His smile faltered a little at your tone, but he quickly caught himself and painted another grin upon his features instead. Rather than responding, he took your hand in his and led you to his pickup truck as he’d done many times before. His touch caused a prickly sensation to run through the palm of your hand and all the way through your body, just as it always had.

The drive to your unknown destination seemed all too familiar. You couldn’t quite place it, but you swore you had seen those same passing stores and road signs. It was only when the car came to a stop that you realized where he had taken you: the beach. The reminder made your heartache, but it also made it impossible to fight the smile that breaks onto your face.

“We won’t go swimming this time.” Light laughter fills the truck as the engine sputtered to a complete stop. He turns to look at you, a certain emotion hidden behind his eyes that you couldn’t quite place. You had never seen it before, not in those eyes that you knew all too well. Before you had more time to contemplate, Jeno swung his door opened and hopped down to the ground with ease. You mimicked his actions, rounding your side of the truck to meet him directly in front of the bed of the pickup. He popped it open, revealing a cushion that had been placed down to perfectly take up its space. Pillows littered the upper quarter, near the front of the pickup. “I wanted to stargaze. I figured you’d like it, dork. “

The both of you chuckled at this, climbing up onto the cushions splayed out. It was chillier than you remember it being earlier in the summer, a shiver involuntarily running up your spine. Jeno noticed, and reached to his side to grab a blanket big enough to cover both of your cold figures. The more you shifted to find a comfortable position, the closer you had subconsciously moved towards Jeno. He didn’t mind though, gently tucking his arm under your head despite it having enough cushion with the pillows.

The two of you fell into comfortable conversation, first starting with small talk and then getting into the most ridiculous conspiracy theories that Renjun had always talked about. The discussion continued throughout the night, as both of you stared up into the night sky. This, being there with Jeno, you finally felt content. You were no longer thinking about if he’d still act like this tomorrow morning- your thoughts were overrun by the peculiar idea that life was an experiment and the stars were actually alien ships.

As you ramble on with concentration while comfortably nuzzled into his warmth, Jeno couldn’t deny that he had missed you. He knew you wanted to talk about it, talk about why he was acting so different. He wanted to tell you, too. You deserved an explanation. Yet, the words were stuck somewhere in the back of his throat. The refusal to accept the situation overcame his sympathy, and he chose to be greedy with such information- at least for this moment in time.

He promised himself he’d tell you eventually, but with you smiling brightly in his arms, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. He wished upon multiple stars that night, wished that somehow you'll forgive him after the mess that will surely unfold. Being in your presence was something he truly did enjoy, and he had no choice but to regretfully anticipate the end. He reminded himself, though, that all good things must come to an end. You were Jeno’s good thing for a while, and he forced himself to believe that keeping you with him was entirely too selfish, even for his liking.

It was nearly five in the morning when he decided you two should probably head back. The ride home was peaceful, the music playing on the radio at a neutral volume. The song sounded almost dreamlike, and you found yourself dozing off before you had even gotten halfway home. Finally, Jeno looked over after safely pulling into your driveway, thanking fate that your parents had seemingly left for work before he got there.

Your peacefully sleeping figure sent a twang of guilt throughout Jeno’s body, a sad smile gracing his face when he realized that things had to end today. He had convinced himself to allow one last time, one last special date before he had to be honest with you. It wasn’t fair to either of you- the shame he felt knowing he was leading you to believe that you two could have something when he wasn’t in the right headspace for it in the first place, the heartache he could see you suffering. None of this was what he planned to happen.

But that one day in class, when he casually sparked up a conversation with you, the desire to be around you more grew more and more with each day. The uncertainty of what would come of that, though, was something he chose to ignore. This was his fault, he realized as he gently moved your still dozing body into his arms. Aimlessly, he used his shoulder to shove the passenger door shut and continued to round the back of your house.

“Y/N,” He murmured close to your ear, plucking you from your blissful rest. Your eyes flutter open slowly, the first sight after waking up being Jeno’s eyes peering down at yours. “You have to get up, baby. I can’t climb through the window while carrying you.”

You nodded in response, feeling the soles of your shoes lightly dig into the ground when he set you down. Without a word, you hoisted yourself up and into your bedroom. Jeno mimicked your actions, choosing to resist his inclination to lay next to you and instead sat at the foot of your bed. This was the moment, he knew, where the bittersweet ending he foresaw would become reality.

“Jeno,” You started weakly, already feeling the invisible wall beginning to rise between you despite having been fine a mere hour ago.

“I know you wanna talk about it,” He trailed off, fiddling with his fingers and maintaining a hard stare at his calloused digits. When he took a deep breath, he expected some sort of relief. Much to his dismay, his throat felt tighter as the seconds went by. “I’m sorry, for everything.”

“You’re making this sound a lot like a ‘goodbye.’”

A tight contraction ripped through his chest, guilt becoming a side effect of the whole ordeal that he had started. He always made sure to keep his summer flings as just that- summer flings. They would have fun, of course, but there would always be a limit to how far things would go. Summer flings, to Jeno, were never exclusive. That day on the beach, though, had forged a connection between you two. The feelings he developed were not meant for summer flings, and he felt regret at how easily he pushed those feelings aside.

There were days when all he thought about was you, and there were days when he’d think about a random passing girl. The feelings faded as quickly as they came once he forced them away, leaving only a subtle admiration in their wake. The infatuation he felt at one point had slowly diminished to a mere crush if one could even call it that.

“I think it should be, for now.” He tore the words from his insides, a bit more unsteadily than he aimed for. You didn’t dare look into his eyes, fearful of what would stare back at you- emotionless, hard eyes? Regretful, soft ones? Finding out wasn’t on your to-do list.

“Tell me everything was fake.” He barely caught this, the breeze carrying your whisper within the small room.

“It wasn’t fake, Y/N.” An exasperated sigh left his lips, his hands then coming up to smooth through his tousled hair. “I really liked spending time with you. I just think this is getting a bit more serious than either of us planned.”

One thing that you had learned to pick up on was his tells. The small stutter in his words, the lack of eye contact, the fidgeting. You knew he was lying.

“Cut the bullshit.” The low whisper was long gone, replaced by a bitterly harsh tone. “If you’re gonna do this, at least be honest with me.”

His hand instinctively reached out to intertwine itself with yours, finding all the sore spots and kneading the tension away. He didn’t want this to be the end, he didn’t want to forget it all. But he also didn’t want to hurt you anymore, not when he cared about you more than ever.

“It was only a partial lie…” Your hard stare made him wince. “Okay… I guess, going into this I didn’t expect much. It was supposed to be a summer thing- just for fun. Then the feelings got deeper…” He watched your reaction, but your face remained detached. “But then, for me, things went back to normal. I didn’t feel how I did that night on the beach, or at least not as intensely. And I didn’t want to make things official because I’m not ready to have you like that, Y/N. I couldn’t do that to you, not when I was-”

He cut himself off, realizing that he was oversharing and this was the one detail he didn’t want you to know. Anything else, anything at all. But not this.

“Say it,” You pressed, so strongly that the response is practically plucked right from his thoughts.

“Meeting up with Yerim,” He finished, finally finding the courage to look at you once again. The cold-blooded front you put on almost convinced him, but he knew you better than that. Yerim was a year above you, and the girl that everybody wanted but could never get. He knew that if he didn’t try to salvage what little friendship you had left now, it would be gone forever. “Please, believe me, Y/N. I didn’t mean for either of us to catch feelings. And seeing Yerim- it didn’t mean anything.”

You scoffed, biting back the bitter taste in your mouth.

“None of this meant anything, did it? The dates, the conversations.” His mouth opened as if to rebuttal, but you continued talking anyway. “I can’t even say I’m mad because everyone knew this would happen. Fuck, even I knew. I just- why did you take me out tonight? Was that your sick twist of a goodbye party?”

The sarcastic laugh that stumbles past your lips has Jeno genuinely anxious of what you’ll do or say next. You were never the type to be so openly emotional, let alone during a situation like this.

“I think you’re right, this should be goodbye.”

The tears broke away from your eyes begrudgingly, although your facial expression never changed. Something deep within you, most likely your pride, wouldn’t allow the soft flesh of your face to move. You remained still, breathing evenly despite the urge to curl up in a ball and sob the rest of the morning.

“Y/N, please look at me.” Jeno was close to tears now too, though one couldn’t possibly tell from the surface. He was never much of a crier, much less in front of anybody. Rather than waiting to see if you had indeed decided to let yourself look at him, he continued talking. “I’m sorry, really. I enjoyed our time together, and I’ll always be here for you.”

His words did little to comfort the collapsing wall that was your mentality. You had never understood the pain of break-ups until now, and he wasn’t even your boyfriend. Was it normal to feel this much pain for a relationship that wasn’t fully existent? The memories you held so dearly to your heart, were they just another still in his photobook? By that point, your thoughts were jumbled and pounding against your head, the ache becoming harder and harder to ignore.

“I think you should go now.” Hiccups almost overtook your words, threatening to reveal just how hard this was on you. Despite all this, you held your ground and pushed his hand away from yours with all the strength you could muster.

He didn’t have the heart to put you through any more talking, feeling his own sadness wiggle its way throughout his body. Losing you was one thing he dreaded, especially over his stupid decision to pursue you as a summer fling. In his defense, he truly didn’t think it’d go this far. He knew his limits and how to make it clear that relationships weren’t something he thought much of at this time of year. With you, though, the lines seemed to blur the minute you waded into the ocean that night.

His head sunk in defeat, and he let out one long sigh before walking over to your bedroom window. Jeno allowed himself to sneak one final glance at you as you laid there on your bed, still unmoving after seeing him through the corner of your eye. After a few seconds that he wished turned to hours, he finally hoisted himself up and out the window.

Unbeknownst to him, you felt yourself sigh in relief when he left. Unbeknownst to you, though, Jeno had sat in his pickup truck that was still parked in your driveway for a little while after. He tried to memorize your house, the small garden in the front and brick architecture that stood in contrast with the vibrant flowers. It might’ve just been the last chance he’d have to see it.

“Goodbye, Y/N.” He knew you couldn’t hear him, but he hoped that somehow you did.

[present day]

Things got easier as time went on. You found yourself being content with school starting back up again. The bitter taste that Jeno’s name once left in your mouth was noticeably less pronounced. Although you missed him more than the moon missed the stars during daylight, you were learning to live on your own. Jeno had shown you many great places, ones that you would’ve never tried if it weren’t for him. The adventurous side of you became more vivid than ever. You still kept in touch with the other boys from time to time, assuring them that you were okay and would see them on the first day of classes. Life was becoming easier, day by day.

First days are almost always horrible. You expect nothing less this year. Though, you learned not to rely on your notions. Things always surprised you. Such as having first period with none other than your infamous summer fling. Seeing him after a month of no contact was like seeing him for the first time. The sting that accompanied you forcing a smile his way was a scar you knew would fade with time. The smile that he sent back your way was another pain you’d grow used to.

What you weren’t used to, though, was having homeroom after lunch with Kim Yerim. While you hold no resentment towards her, a part of you wishes you were assigned to a different room. Even worse, the only seat left for you to take was directly behind her and her friends.

“I heard you spent a lot of time with Jeno this summer!” One of them, whose tone is all too bubbly and curious for your liking, exclaims. Yerim grins, motioning them to come closer as she rehashes some of their meetings.

“Seriously, Yerim. With a guy like that, I’m surprised you didn’t ask him for something serious.”

“Please, Joy. Only a fool would fall for Lee Jeno,” Yerim’s response makes her other friends snicker as they pull notebooks and pens from their bags. With a quick glance over her shoulder, you know she’s referring to you.

And oh, what a fool you were.

#nct dream #jeno #nct scenarios #nct reactions #jeno scenarios #jeno imagines #nct imagines #nct fluff #nct angst #jeno fluff #jeno angst #neo tech high school series

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soldieronbarnes · 5 years ago

Note

Malec prompt - My homophobic parents are coming to visit will you pretend to date me as an extra “fuck you”?

Uhhh this…..completely got away from me? It’s a lot longer and a lot angstier than it was supposed to be….sorry? Not sorry? idk.

___

“Okay, what is wrong withyou?”

The question - and particularly the accusingtone of it - shakes Alec out of his stupor. It’s a testament to how out of ithe is that the only response he manages is an intelligent “huh?”

He blinks, shaking his head to clear his head,but in the end, Magnus Bane is still standing in front of him, a stack of bookshugged to his chest and eyebrows raised and it’s - well, it’s a lot. It’s alwaysa lot, to be the focus of his attention, to be faced with his….everything:his incandescent beauty, his razor sharp wit and brilliant mind, his smoothcharm or his biting contempt.

Alec flounders. Magnus Bane is the secret starof all his late-night fantasies, his verbal sparring partner in their shared Introduction to Clave Law class andall-around thorn in Alec’s side.

They snipe at each other a lot.

What they don’t do is talkoutside of class.

Alec quickly runs through a mental inventory ofthings he might have done to offend Magnus so horrendously that he’s corneringhim in the corridor, eyes blazing, and comes up empty. Unless his mouthdeveloped a mind of its own in the last sixty minutes, there’s nothing he couldhave possibly said. And if there’s one thing that Alec knows how to do is makesure nothing unintended ever slips out of his mouth, to keep his closelyguarded secrets.

“I didn’t do anything,” Alec defendshimself.

“Exactly,” Magnus says irritably.

“I don’t follow,” Alec admits.

“You didn’t participate once this session.What, do you want to tell me the professor can drone on and on about thelegitimacy of Downworlder discrimination and you don’t have an opinion on that?No raising your hand to offer your…..valuable insights?”

“What, are you my professor now?” Alec says,snippy. “I don’t need lectures from you on how active participation is abig part of the final grade.”

“That’s not why I’m asking.”

The last thing he needs right now is picking afight with Magnus, but he can’t help it. “Why are you asking?I’m sure you enjoy class less when you don’t have a convenient punching bag foryour arguments, but newsflash: I don’t owe you an explanation on why I don’twanna engage in that. It’s not like it’s any of your business.”

“Well, I’m sorry for stepping on your toes byexpressing my concern for your general well-being,” Magnus snaps. “GuessI’ll remove my lowly Downworlder self from your presence before I leave a stainon your perfect reputation or something.”

For the third time in their brief conversation,Alec is completely thrown. “I - that’s not - what?”

Now that he sees actual fury on Magnus’handsome face, covering up a brief flash of something that looked almost likegenuine hurt, he realises that the expression Magnus wore before was lessfurious and more….furiously concerned.

He doesn’t think he’s ever been this confusedin his life.

“Magnus, wait!” He struggles to catch up withMagnus’ quick strides – he has a head start, and he’s surprisingly tall, but inthe end, as they’re hurrying down the deserted corridor that leads to the notoriouslyill-tempered professor Fell’s office, Alec’s freakishly long legs win out. “Magnus,will you just –“

He grabs him by the biceps, and Magnus whirlsaround faster than lightning. To his credit, he doesn’t punch Alec in the face.Maia, he knows, would have had a much more violent reaction to being seizedlike this. Most Downworlders would – recent attempts to smooth things overbetween the different factions in the Shadow World haven’t done much to assuagerational fears and suspicions based on several centuries of near constantoppression and maltreatment.

“Sorry, I – sorry,” he blurts out, quicklywithdrawing his hand. “I shouldn’t have grabbed you like that.”

“Don’t worry, I’m not contagious, despite whatyour precious Clave might tell you,” Magnus sneers.

“Can you just stop for a second?” Alec snaps. “Don’tput words in my mouth!”

“Why would I?”

“I’m trying to apologise here!”

That seems to take Magnus aback. “For what?”

Alec takes a deep breath. “I – don’t reallyknow what’s going on here,” he admits, waving his hand around in what he hopesis a sufficiently all-encompassing gesture. “I mean, we don’t really….talk, andI guess I was confused and had my hackles up, because I was having a shit dayanyways but – none of that is your fault, and I shouldn’t have taken it out onyou. So I’m sorry.”

Magnus cocks his head. “I appreciate thethought, but as you so astutely pointed out, you don’t owe me an explanation.”

“I did owe you the apology, though.”

Magnus hums contemplatively, and, against allodds, lingers. Alec knows a challenge when he sees one, or maybe it’s aninvitation – he’s misjudged Magnus’ intentions before. He doesn’t really wantto talk about it but – well, if he’s honest, it does grate on him to not havehis siblings around, constantly needling him until he talks about what’sbothering him, and he doesn’t really have friends here to confide in.

He’s been told that friendships often formbetween roommates just by virtue of being stuck with one person in closequarters for a long time, but his roommate Raj is a grade-a asshole, and otherthan that, his options are limited; there aren’t many Shadowhunters here, andthose that do attend generally think he’s insane for being the only one Nephilimvoluntarily choosing to go to thefirst integrated college when he was good enough to attend theShadowhunter-only and highly acclaimed Idris Academy. The Downworlders, on theother hand, who make up a majority of the student body, are all understandablywary and tend to avoid him when they can. He’s cordial enough with a lot ofpeople, but there’s no one he would say he’s actually close to. He’s gettingthere with Maia, he thinks, who’s brazen enough to yell at him and so fargrudgingly impressed by the lack of times he’s given her an actual incentive tostart a fistfight.

So maybe it’s a need for connection, or maybeit’s the fact that Magnus is everything Alec isn’t while simultaneouslyprobably one of the few people who might understand, that causes Alec to talk.

“Campus tours are next week.”

“I’m aware,” Magnus replies, raising hiseyebrows at the sort of non-sequitur.

“My siblings are thinking about going here aswell and – that means the whole family is coming. Including my parents.”

“I take it that will not be a joyous reunion?”

“Uh, no. They’re still angry with me for not goingto Idris like they wanted and –“ Alec hesitates briefly, and then decides tonot give a fuck. The truth is going to be out there soon one way or another. “Andeven angrier with my ruining the marriage they had arranged for me.”

The first, he had been able to mostly explainaway with logical arguments about Shadowhunter politics – if he was supposed tolead an Institute one day and work with Downworlders, he’d need to get a betterunderstanding of them, especially in the changing political climate. The latter– not so much.

Magnus looks almost at a loss for words. “It ismy understanding that arranged marriages are so traditional for Shadowhuntersthat they are virtually unavoidable,” he says cautiously.

“Basically.”

“Another way for you to rebel, then?” Magnussuggests. “Fighting for more freedom of choice?”

Alec shakes his head. “It’s not the arrangementpart that I couldn’t handle. I know my duties, my responsibilities, that’s not –that wasn’t the problem. Many of the couples end up kind of happy, anyway.”

“What part disagreed with you that much, then?”Magnus asks softly. He can probably see where this is going, judging by the wayhe’s now clearly careful of his words and by the way his entire demeanour seemsto soften.

He takes a deep breath, and steels himself. Hishands are trembling, which is stupid – everyone on campus knows that MagnusBane will judge you for pretty much everything, but not for this. There’s no one else around – everyone knows tomake a wide berth around professor Fell’s office at all times. “The part whereI was supposed to marry a woman.”

Magnus goes to say something, but Alec barrels on.He’s not sure he could stand to hear some supposedly affirming and supportiveplatitudes right now. “They’ll forgive me for the choice of college eventually,I guess, but – not that. Don’t – please don’t say you’re sorry or whatever.Just – it’s just the way it is. I’ll deal with it.”

Magnus accepts that with a nod, and remainsquiet for a long moment. “So what’s the plan?” is what he eventually asks.

It’s not the question Alec was expecting. “Sorry?”

“For the upcoming visit of hell,” Magnusclarifies.

Alec shakes his head. “There is no plan. Getthrough it, I guess. Izzy and Jace will try to intervene when things get out ofhand or take some of the family heat if possible, but there isn’t much thatwill stop them.” He shrugs a little helplessly.

“So what, you’re just going to keep your head downand take it?”

“You got a problem with that?”

“No,” Magnus says quietly. “It just doesn’tseem like your style. You don’t generally strike me as the type of person to letsomething like this slide without a fight.”

“How would you know?” Alec asks, and oh, he’sgetting defensive again now.

Magnus doesn’t take the bait this time. “Alexander,”he says, “as much as we disagree on howthings should change, or how quickly steps must be taken, I haven’t ever seenyou defend a bigoted law or damaging stereotypes. Why are you willing to defendpeople like me from people like your parents, but not yourself?”

Oh, but he had forgotten how scarily perceptiveMagnus can be. “It probably won’t even be that bad,” Alec says, desperatelytrying to deflect. “I’m sure they’ll just use the fact that I’m single to arguethat I’m just confused and will change my mind and it’ll be fine once theyconvince themselves of that.”

For a brief moment, Magnus looks angry. He doesn’tthink anyone but his siblings has ever been angry on his behalf. It’s a strangeexperience. “Sounds like you need a boyfriend to show off to them to stop thatludicrous line of thinking once and for all.”

“Well, I don’t have a boyfriend, so –“

“You could have a boyfriend,” Magnus sayseasily.

Alec snorts. “Yeah, right. Magnus, half thepeople at school won’t even look at me, and I’m not really good at this kind ofthing anyway. Plus, even if I didfind someone to go out with me – who’d want to meet my parents after a week?”

“It wouldn’t need to be real.”

“What, like, hire someone? No one would go forthat, and if I have to pay someone to date me – well, I’d rather spare myselfthat particular humiliation.”

Magnus bites his lip, almost nervously. “Iwould do it,” he offers hesitantly.

Alec stares.

“For free, even,” Magnus adds. “I’m always infavour of sticking it to homophobic and racist bigots.”

“Uh,” Alec says dumbly. “You do know who myparents are, right?”

“The Lightwoods are rather famous, yes,” Magnus says drily.

“Then you know how they’d react to –“ Wordsfail him. He can only weakly gesture between the two of them.

Magnus smiles bitterly. “They are rather famousfor that as well, so yes.”

“Why would you –“ Alec falters. “Why would youwillingly subject yourself to that? Why would anyone – I mean, they’re my family, it’s not like I have a choice – but you shouldn’t have tosuffer through that. Not ever and – you get enough crap from Shadowhunterswithout painting a huge, deliberate target on your back for me.”

In front of him, Magnus’ eyes hold an infinitesadness that threatens to choke Alec. “You know,” he muses, “when I first heardthat the Lightwood heir was going to go the same school as me, I was expecting –well, I was expecting many things, none of them pleasant. But you – I don’tthink I could have predicted a single thing about you. At every turn, youcontinue to surprise me. Look – “ he continues, “if you don’t want to go for itbecause it’s – too much for you, I get it. But if you’re only turning me downto protect me, don’t bother. I don’t need anyone to protect me. There’s nothingthey could say to me that I haven’t heard a thousand times before.”

“That doesn’t make it better,” Alec argues hotly.“You shouldn’t have to hear it at all.”

“And neither should you,” Magnus points out. “ButI can assure you, in my experience, if it can’t be avoided, then it’s easier ifyou have someone there to help you through it, to have your back. You don’thave to do everything alone, Alec.”

It’s – it’s too much. The magnitude of Magnus’offer sends him reeling. Even worse is the heady feeling of being judged byMagnus Bane and being found worthy when that notion of getting his approval isutterly ludicrous to him. Magnus shouldn’t choose him. Not like this, not ever,maybe. When Alec had run after him he’d at best expected a chance to extend an olivebranch that would help them get back to the way things were. A part of himthink he shouldn’t even be contemplating it, but –

It would be so good to not be alone in this,for once.

He draws in a shaky breath. “It’d be ugly,” hewarns.

Magnus’ smile is small and lopsided, but it’s there.“Fighting for something important usually is.”

“Right.”

“Do you have class now?”

Alec blinks at the sudden change of topic. “Notuntil five.”

“Then how about we get some coffee and just –talk, figure things out?”

“Yeah. Yeah, sure, that sounds good.”

Magnus’s smile widens, soft and sweet andgenuine. It’s the first full smile he’s ever directed and Alec, and Alec thinks– if he just keeps smiling at him like that, then Alec can do anything, getthrough everything the world and his parents throw at him.

His heart is fluttering in his chest, and itfeels a lot like hope.

#Anonymous #malec #shadowhunters #my fic #meme #this is not really what i wanted to write at first but this is the story that clawed its way out so #voilá i guess #discussion of racism and homophobia

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yamisnuffles · 5 years ago

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Humans loved in all sorts of ways and over the millennia, Aziraphale had felt them all. What he'd never felt, or never realized he'd felt until now, was an angel's love. His own love, for another. He was made of love and made to love and yet he'd never felt this.

It's 1941 and Aziraphale has finally realized the depth of his feelings for Crowley, feelings he doesn't know what to do with as he invites the demon back to his bookshop.

Read on AO3

- - - - -

Humans loved in all sorts of ways and over the millennia, Aziraphale had felt them all. He could feel the sweater warm love of home, the bone deep love of family, and the selfless love that gave to those who needed it. He'd felt the nervous flicker of first love and the consuming fire of passion and the love that endured even when other things fell away. No matter how the word had narrowed over time, Aziraphale knew there were as many types of love as there were people. What he'd never felt, or never realized he'd felt until now, was an angel's love. His own love, for another. He was made of love and made to love and yet he'd never felt this. This wasn’t his love for Her or Her creation. He felt simultaneously like he was drowning and like he was walking on air. He was so used to feeling love as an outside thing, foreign to him, that he barely recognized it in himself.

And he was certainly in it now. Love, that is. It was huge. Consuming. It was too big to contain in himself and he didn't want to because it wasn't for him. It was for Crowley.

For all the ways the night had gone wrong, Crowley’s return after so long had been a miracle all its own, especially when Aziraphale had realized with some surprise that their friendship had survived. Then, just when he thought he’d regained a friend only to lose books he’d cared for over the centuries, he watched with wide-eyed wonder as Crowley plucked them, utterly unharmed, from the dead Nazi’s grip.

“Little demonic miracle of my own,” Crowley said casually, as though he hadn’t taken care to save something that was so dear to Aziraphale. As though it was nothing at all, when it was everything. Their fingers brushed as Crowley handed over the bag and Aziraphale considered it as a minor miracle that he didn’t drop it with his suddenly numb hand. It might very well have been a literal miracle as insensible of himself as Aziraphale felt at the moment.

“Lift home?”

It took so long for those words to filter through Aziraphale’s mind that he would have suspected the demon of distorting time if he didn’t know better. No, Crowley wasn’t at fault beyond the currently traitorous act of being Crowley. Aziraphale responded with a small, high pitched noise of affirmation and scurried on in the wake of Crowley’s long, sinuous strides. He was rather caught up in watching a pair of swaying hips and so didn’t notice the rubble in front of his feet until he was tripping over it. A pair of hands caught him at his chest to stop him from falling flat.

“Are you alright?” Crowley asked, one eyebrow creeping high above his dark glasses.

All Aziraphale could think of was the way Crowley’s palms were still holding him up. “What?” Even with all the layers of fabric between, he was sure Crowley had to be able to feel the way his heart hammered. “Yes.” He jumped back half a step and held himself straight. “Yes, just fine. A bit- what is it they say? Shell shocked, I suppose. You said something about a... lift?”

That was just the right thing, apparently, because Crowley was suddenly too caught up in a bout of excitement to question further. “That’s right,” he said. “You wouldn’t have seen yet. I got a car.”

Crowley said it as though it was something quite impressive indeed. Aziraphale had seen cars, of course. Ridden in them also. He wasn’t sure what the hubbub was about but it was clear that Crowley thought it exciting and Aziraphale currently found it quite difficult not to be excited as well. Or, at the very least, to beam at Crowley as he threw his arms wide at the automobile parked just outside of the blast radius.

It was, Aziraphale considered, a nice car as far as such things went. It seemed to suit Crowley with its serpentine lines and glistening black paint. In that way, yes, he could see the appeal of it. Although when he thought of it that way, as a physical extension of Crowley himself, it made what the demon said next a fair bit more difficult to deal with.

“Dunno if you’ve ridden in a car before. Well, must’ve done, I suppose but it won’t compare. I promise,” Crowley said as he opened the passenger door. “Get ready for the ride of your life.”

He gave Aziraphale a wide, devilish grin that did nothing to settle the funny flipping sensation the angel had in his stomach. Thankfully Crowley was already around the other side of the car and so couldn’t see the face Aziraphale pulled as he swallowed hard over a suddenly dry mouth nor the slight shiver as he slid into his seat. He settled his beloved books carefully on his lap and offered Crowley a beatific smile to show his thanks once more for the rescue. There was a curious twitch at the corner of Crowley’s mouth that Aziraphale didn’t have time to consider because Crowley took the closing of the passenger door as an invitation to press the accelerator flat to the floor.

Although Aziraphale had not himself driven an automobile he had, as previously noted, ridden in them before. At first the speed had been a bit startling when one expected them to travel along more like the carriages that preceded them, but the initial shock faded when he had some time to get used to it. He was quite certain he would never get used to the way Crowley chose to drive. He was also quite certain no one was meant to hurtle down the road at such a speed.

Aziraphale clung to his books as though the miracle that had protected them would extend to him. He would rather not be discorporated just when he’d finally started to realize what it was he felt for Crowley, even when Crowley was currently doing his utmost to change those feelings. It was such a harrowing affair that he forgot all about the bombs that were dropping elsewhere in the city. He prayed for the ride to be over and, suddenly, it was.

He’d have launched himself out of the car if he had any feeling in his legs. He actually had to pat himself down to assure himself that everything was still there. Once certain he still had legs to stand on, he pulled himself out of the car. He took a single, wobbling step toward his shop before he had to brace himself.

Aziraphale could feel the rake of Crowley's eyes, even from behind those dark glasses, bringing that squirming feeling back to his gut and a flutter in his chest.

“You sure you’re alright?” Crowley asked. “I can hang about a bit, if you need me to.”

Aziraphale felt his heart thud in his chest. He felt betrayed by his corporation but it must have only sounded deafening to him because Crowley didn’t seem to have noticed. If you need me. Need. Want. All of the above, really. Aziraphale knew what he ought to say to the offer given their respective sides in things, but nearly six thousand years in was hardly the time to start doing what he ought in regards to the demon. So instead, fingers numb again, he shifted his grip on the bag of books and nodded slowly.

“Yes, ah, probably would be for the best. For your sake, that is,” Aziraphale quickly amended. “What with the bombs, and the, er… well, the shop has a good solid foundation. I don’t know if the same can be said of- of wherever you’ve been all this time.”

Crowley shrugged and waved Aziraphale on. Right, he was probably expected to go into his own home first rather than hang back to watch Crowley walk in. He only just resisted the temptation to trip over the curb so that Crowley could catch him once more and opened the door.

Once inside the shop, Aziraphale released a breath he hadn’t even been aware of holding. It was dreadfully good to be back. There was nowhere else that Aziraphale felt so at ease. He supposed he should feel that way when he was in heaven to give reports but he could never shake the weight of expectation that hung on him there. Here he had his books, his chairs, his collection of snuffboxes, and a space that shaped itself to it him rather than the other way around.

“We just gonna stand in the doorway all evening then?”

Aziraphale nearly jumped out of his skin. Since he had stopped almost as soon as he’d entered the shop, Crowley had been forced to stand close behind if he wanted to be inside and Aziraphale swore he could feel Crowley’s breath on his neck when he spoke.

“Yes. Right.” Aziraphale did his best not to look over his shoulder to follow Crowley’s progress as they went deeper into the shop. He hung up his hat and heard Crowley do the same, inviting Aziraphale to spare him a quick glance. “Drink?” he offered as he finally set the case of books down. “I have a bottle of Cheval Blanc I’ve been meaning to open.”

Crowley fell boneless onto the sofa. “Yeah, sure.”

It was quiet- miraculously so. While Aziraphale didn’t want the sounds of war invading his little sanctuary, he also decided he didn’t want silence. Silence invited thought that he wasn’t prepared for at the moment. His gramophone came to life with a snap of his fingers and the delicate sounds of a piano and violin piece by Edward Elgar filled the air. Aziraphale focused on that as he dug the wine and accompanying glasses from one of his back rooms.

When he returned, he found Crowley had somehow managed to sink even further into the sofa, one arm draped over the back and both legs out at different angles. Aziraphale did his best not to catch on any of those long limbs as he handed over a glass of the Cheval Blanc. Aziraphale thought better of the impulse to take a seat next to Crowley and instead settled into his favorite chair.

“To a timely rescue,” he said, lifting his glass.

“All I did was divert the bomb, angel. As I recall, you were the one who saved us from the paperwork that would have brought.”

“To my books, then,” Aziraphale pressed, refusing to cede the point entirely. “Those certainly would have been lost without you.”

Crowley shrugged but raised his glass all the same. Aziraphale beamed and tipped back his glass. It was clearly a night for miracles because in no time at all they’d fallen back into an old rhythm. Aziraphale had no idea how he did it, but with a word or two, Crowley got him talking. He wasn’t even aware of it until he found himself in the middle of discussing all the delights that had come through his life in the past eighty odd years. There were blessings that had blossomed into friendships and fascinating new authors. Had Crowley read this? (No, don’t pretend you don’t read, dear. I’ll loan you my first edition. Well, perhaps not loan but you’re free to visit anytime to read. At least you have the manners not to try buying anything.) Then there were all the new restaurants that had sprung up. (Have you been to the Ritz? It’s been about for decades now. No? Oh, you absolutely must visit sometime.)

A small, dreadfully daring part of Aziraphale wanted to suggest they dine together. Or do anything together, just the two of them. During the course of their conversation, Crowley had removed his sunglasses and Aziraphale was struck all over again by how beautiful the demon’s honey gold eyes were. Or how lovely his legs, a fact Aziraphale noted every time Crowley threw them out with long practiced abandon in a challenge to what might properly be called sitting. Crowley’s hair, his fingers, his everything- Aziraphale wanted to drink it all in more than he wanted even the finest vintage of wine.

But he didn’t dare say any of that, nor mention how he dreaded when Crowley would eventually take his leave. As it was, it took emptying another glass for Aziraphale to feel bold enough to touch what was really on his mind. Once it had been drained, he had to set the glass aside because suddenly his hands were shaking. He folded them neatly in his lap to hide the way he trembled.

“Wherever have you been?” he asked in a voice nearly as tremulous as his limbs. He took in a long breath through his nose and willed himself a bit of bravery. “It’s been a rather long time since we last talked. I wasn’t sure if…”

His voice died as he considered finishing that sentence. He’d need more liquid courage, it would seem. Unfortunately, Crowley didn’t let it drop.

“Wasn’t sure if what?”

“Well, we had that dreadful fight.” Aziraphale wrinkled his nose. “When I saw you again,” he said, forging quickly onward, “I wasn’t sure if you still considered me a friend. Not that we are friends, of course. That would be absurd. An angel and a demon. Hereditary enemies and all. That would be ridiculous. But, you know, we had the Arrangement and all.”

He stumbled quickly through all of it, not giving Crowley time to interrupt or dispute any of it. Then, when he was finished, he was horrified when he didn’t get an immediate answer. Instead Crowley stared at him. Somehow, for as much as Aziraphale wished them uncovered, he always forgot how intense Crowley’s gaze could be that way. Heat crawled up the back of Aziraphale’s neck. He didn’t know if it came from being the subject of Crowley’s undivided attention or nerves over how the demon might respond. Probably both.

Aziraphale regretted bringing up the fight. What if Crowley was thinking about pressing the matter of the holy water again? There was no way that Aziraphale could agree. He still remembered perfectly the way the ground had crumbled under his feet when he’d read what was written on that scrap of paper. Crowley gone? Utterly and completely gone? It had been bad enough then. Now that Aziraphale felt- that he realized- well, it just wouldn’t do, a world with no Crowley in it. The thought alone was enough for him to snatch up his glass of wine once more and for it to understand that it had best not drain.

Crowley rearranged his legs as he took a long drink of his own. The bottle should have been empty ages ago but had obediently refilled so that neither of them would have to go through the trouble of fetching more. Again Crowley shifted in his seat, seemingly unable to get comfortable. Finally he made some vague dismissive noise.

“Not like we haven’t gone longer without seeing each other. I was just places, is all. Needed sssspace to do my own demony thingss.” Crowley waved his hands vaguely about him, sloshing a bit of wine onto the sofa as he did. A wave of his free hand and the stain way gone. “Nothing for you to worry your angelic head over.”

“That sounds precisely the sort of thing I ought to worry about,” Aziraphale replied on principle more than anything else. “Still, it is rather good to see you again, even if we have gone longer.”

He bit his lip and pondered the wisdom of pushing on in the direction he desired. He might not like what he heard, if Crowley was up to anything truly demonic, but he still wanted to ask for details. So much had happened in the decades that lay between them. A lively piece by Bach started and he was struck with sudden inspiration. He miracled his glass onto a nearby table and hopped to his feet.

“Do you know, I spent time in a lovely gentleman’s club some years ago. I learned the most delightful dance.” Emboldened by copious amounts of wine, he held out a hand. “Perhaps I could teach you? A way to catch up for lost time, as it were.”

Crowley’s eyebrows raised halfway to his hairline. His mouth worked over some unspoken response before he managed, “Didn’t think angels danced.”

“Well this one does,” Aziraphale replied with a proud lift of his chin. “Quite well, if I do say so myself.”

Crowley put his own glass aside and for one moment that was more intoxicating than all the wine in the world Aziraphale thought he was going to accept. Crowley had no sooner set his feet flat on the ground than he changed his mind. He all but jumped back, a sour look on his face. Aziraphale’s heart sank. It had been a silly idea, thinking an angel and a demon might dance together. Then something occurred to him, something that he really should have noticed sooner.

“Crowley, are you alright?” A small pit of shame burned at Aziraphale. Crowley kept asking after him, but he hadn’t thought to do the same until just now. “It’s only, well, you keep shifting your legs. And just now, when you tried to stand-”

He let the statement hang. Crowley wouldn’t thank him for pointing out a weakness, let alone saying it aloud. Crowley frowned but didn’t brush him off.

“S’nothing, really. The damned- blessed-” Crowley growled. “Whatever, consecrated ground. I think being off my feet gave them the idea to heal. Made them hurt more when I tried to use ‘em.”

Aziraphale was down on his knees, reaching for Crowley’s shoes when he realized what he was doing. “Do you mind if I-?”

“Bad enough that you keep thanking me. At least I can tell my lot I did it for the fun of blowing up a church. There’s no explaining away you healing me, or did you suddenly forget the whole ‘hereditary enemies’ thing?”

To be honest, Aziraphale had forgotten. How could he see Crowley in pain and want anything other than to help?

“Oh, just tell them… tell them…” Aziraphale screwed up his lips. He wouldn’t be thrown off so easily. “Say you bent me to your service. You made me bow under your wiles. But, really, it’s not like they need to know at all. Who’s going to tell them?” Aziraphale gestured around the empty shop to make his point. “And it’s not as though I’m eager to tell heaven. So come now, let me help. Think of it as an extension of our Arrangement, if you will. You helped me twice tonight. It only follows I should do the same, so we cancel each other out properly.”

Aziraphale wasn’t sure how he dared be so bold. Crowley was always the one pushing, edging ever further over the line drawn between them by the powers above and below. It allowed Aziraphale to be the reluctant follower- the good and righteous angel tempted to a bit of grey instead of the white that was meant to be his domain. Aziraphale would just blame the copious amounts of wine. It had nothing at all to do with a fervent desire to be closer to Crowley, to be the one to give himself for once in an act of service and make sure Crowley was unharmed.

"You've done a lot already,” Crowley said. His eyebrows knit and he tilted his head slightly. “Not worried about getting reprimanded again for too many frivolous miracles?"

His tongue darted out to wet his lips. Perhaps he, too, was suddenly thinking about… crepes. Aziraphale looked out the window.

"If you haven't noticed, there's a war on. I haven’t had the occasion to indulge in much in the way of frivolity.” With the war. Without Crowley around.

"Right. Hell of a thing to wake up to."

Aziraphale turned back toward Crowley. "Wake up to?"

Crowley's voice was temporarily lost in a strangled string of sounds. He looked away. Looked back. "You know. This morning. Every morning lately.”

“Ah, right.”

“Some of us sleep, you know."

Crowley’s breath came out in a shudder. Aziraphale could see him swallow hard before he looked away, perhaps searching for another excuse. Evidently finding none or- dare Aziraphale hope- wanting this as badly as the angel did, he nodded.

“Alright. Just don’t be disappointed if it doesn’t work. Already tried fixing it myself. Should know by now divine ssssuffering issss… well, wouldn’t be where I am if it was something I could fix.” Crowley squeezed his eyes shut but not before Aziraphale saw how the gold of his irises had started to encroach on the whites of his eyes. He pinched at the bridge of his nose and frowned deeply. “I’m gonna sober up. This is… don’t know what I’m saying anymore.”

“I’d best as well, I think.”

Crowley let out a small laugh. “Would be nice if you didn’t try any delicate healing while plastered, angel.”

Aziraphale chuckled in response. “No, I suppose not.”

How he would manage such an intimate miracle without alcohol in his veins, he wasn’t sure, but he’d have to manage. The last thing he wanted was to hurt Crowley more. After an unpleasant moment of concentration, he was out from under the sway of the Cheval Blanc. He could tell immediately when Crowley was as well because the demon’s languid posture stiffened. Without the soft, comforting curtain of drunkenness between them, they were both all too aware of Aziraphale’s position kneeling in front of Crowley.

“Right then,” Aziraphale said, clearing his throat. He let his hands hover just above Crowley’s ankles. “Shall I?”

Crowley’s throat bobbed. His wandering gaze hopped around the shop but was drawn back time and again to Aziraphale. “Sure. Yeah. Course.”

With as much care as he could, Aziraphale pulled off the first of Crowley’s black shoes. Crowley hissed in pain.

“I could likely do something to numb your feet,” Aziraphale offered.

“S’Okay. Probably shouldn’t have sobered up until this part was over.”

“Are you sure?”

“Stop fussing, angel, and get it done with.”

The sharp line of Crowley’s jaw hardened as he prepared himself for more pain. Aziraphale swallowed further protest and did as asked. He pulled off the other shoe. He set the pair aside carefully, using the time to brace himself for what came next. He grabbed the cuff of the first sock and peeled it downward with as much care as he could. Despite that, he felt where the fabric tugged free from burnt flesh and the way Crowley’s body tensed in response.

“Oh, Crowley. My dear boy…”

The uncovered foot wasn’t a pretty sight. The sole was bright red and blistered where they’d rested too long on consecrated ground. He’d done this to himself for Aziraphale. Something tugged hard in the angel’s chest. He swallowed over the sob that threatened to escape his throat. Better not to dwell on that or any of it, for that matter.

He pulled off the other sock. The moment he didn’t need to worry about fabric getting trapped in flesh, he set to healing infernal flesh of ethereal burns. It was tricky work. The injury didn’t seem eager to be undone and all this had come from a few minutes on consecrated ground. What more had Crowley gone through? Aziraphale hadn’t let himself think much of what Crowley must have endured in his Fall. Thinking of that made it too easy for Aziraphale to consider what heaven might do to him if they ever found out what he’d been up to. But this wasn’t about him. This was about Crowley and what he’d suffered for Aziraphale’s sake.

Aziraphale handled Crowley’s bare feet delicately, examining the skin for any remaining blemishes. He lingered longer than strictly necessary. He wasn’t eager to break the dreadfully rare skin to skin contact but there was only so long he could keep up the ploy. Once he’d assured himself everything was well, he let out a weary breath.

“That will do it, I’d say.” He dusted off his knees as he reluctantly stood to take a step back and tried to tamp down on the quivering corners of the smile he sent at Crowley. “How do they feel, my dear?”

Crowley waggled his toes. “All better, angel. I’ll have to remember to come to you next time I decide to take a march down the aisle.”

Heat fanned up Aziraphale’s neck at that particular choice of words. “Well then, I’m- I’m glad to hear it.”

He wanted to tell Crowley how he felt and that he finally understood how the demon felt in return, that it was impossible to see anything else after tonight, and that he wished they would never be parted again, especially not after so long apart. But he couldn’t because everything Crowley had said before was true. Saving Aziraphale was a risk. Allowing himself to be cared for by Aziraphale another. He was mended in the moment but still at the risk of utter annihilation.

Crowley started to pull his socks back on. “I’ll just be heading out then.”

“So soon?” Just a few more moments. A few more hours. That couldn’t hurt, could it? “You could stay until morning, if you’d like. Just to be sure your feet have healed properly.” They both knew Crowley’s feet were as well healed as they could get but the excuses were all a part of the old dance. Give Crowley a way to pretend to be selfish. Let him act like he was imposing on Aziraphale rather than accepting his kindness. It was usually Crowley doing the tempting- to food, to drink, to company- but Aziraphale hadn’t spent all those years upholding his side of the Arrangement without picking up a thing or two. “I have a bed upstairs that I never use anyway.”

Or, he did now.

Crowley stopped short of putting his shoes back on. He bounced them in his hand as he leaned back into his seat and rolled his eyes up toward the second story. “Well, if you’re not using it…”

“Not at all. I’ll have an easier time of it if I’m not worrying about you being out in all that.”

“So what you’re saying is, I’d be doing you a real favor, staying here?”

“Quite.”

“Well then, I suppose I could stay,” Crowley said with a put upon sigh. “Even things up between us. Do this favor for you so I’m not in your debt for-”

Crowley gestured down at his feet. He stood up and Aziraphale was pleased to see him move once more with his usual, peculiar grace. His shoes hung off his fingers on one hand while his others scooped up his sunglasses. Aziraphale reached out a hand, not far enough to touch but enough to stop Crowley. Crowley blinked at him.

“Sleep well,” Aziraphale said.

“I’ll sleep just fine as long as you don’t go trying to pull one over on Nazis again.”

“No fear of that,” Aziraphale replied. “Not for tonight, anyway. I’ll be staying right here.” He could feel his heart skip at the thought of Crowley staying the night under the same roof as him. In his home. Together, if only for the night. “May you dream of whatever you like best,” he added in a light, jesting tone.

Not a real miracle. A sincere wish and nothing more. He saw the roll of Crowley’s eyes before they disappeared once more behind sunglasses. “Sure thing, angel.”

#aziraphale #crowley #anthony j crowley #good omens #fic #ineffable husbands #crowley x aziraphale #my writing #this one got away from me a bit

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padfootagain · 6 years ago

Text

To Light Our Way (I)

Part 1: An Ordinary Day in London in 1925

Okay, okay, okay, okay!!! I'm so excited about this idea of mine!!! I've been doing some research like crazy!! I won't pretend to be 100% accurate, but it's already much more research than what I usually do for a fanfic! I've changed things compared to the movies, obviously, to fit better with the story, and I also used some real streets names. If you have a question about it, just tell me. I used an old map from the late 19th century as a reference, here's a link in case you're wondering : xx

I love this idea, I just hope you will like it too! And because I love it so much, I'm super nervous, so please, please, please, PLEASE let me know what you think about it. I need to know, I'm begging you all, just tell me if you like it or not!!!

So, here we go. New series. New adventures. Nothing shocking I reckon, some themes are a bit sad but I don't recall it's worth a full on warning.

I hope you all like it!!!!

Gif not mine

Word count : 4508

Obi-Wan gloomily stared at the dry piece of bread before him. Instead of biting into his breakfast - if one could call it a breakfast - he drank up some cold water, letting his gaze wander across his tiny room. A mere mattress thrown on the wooden floor was all that made his bed, along with a warm blanket he had bought for a shilling as rags and repaired himself. A bucket filled with water he had picked up outside the house on the only point of clear water of the block was to be used for cleaning, bathing and drinking. It was already his second bucket of the day, the first had been used to wash his hair with some frozen water. There was a tiny mantlepiece carved in the wall on the right, but it was too little to be useful. During winter, the only way to use its warmth was to sit directly before the fire, the rest of the room still shivering with cold. Under the window, he had put the large suitcase and the trunk into which all his clothes and personal belongings fitted. In the middle of the room were set a table upon which rested his only candle, a pack of cigarettes, a bottle of dark ink with a pen and a few papers along with a box of matches, and a couple of crooked chairs. Of course, right now, his cup of water and the piece of bread that was to fill up the role of breakfast were on the table as well, and Obi-Wan was sitting upon one of these old chairs. And sitting at this spot around the table, he could see London through his tiny window.

The city was waking up under the twilight. The chimneys spat their dark smoke through the golden sky, drawing patterns of coal on an orange canvas. Up at the fourth floor, right under the roof, Obi-Wan could at least enjoy the view of London splayed at his feet. And despite the moderate comfort of his flat, he had to consider himself lucky. After all, not all the former soldiers who had, by some miracle, managed to come back from the war, had a roof above their heads these days.

A shiver ran up his spine at the thought of the war he had been forced to fight, and he quickly pushed the memories away. Nightmares were enough of a reminder, he had to force his mind to settle on the present during the day at least.

He took a look at his watch, the leather bracelet dangerously cracked and almost cut in two, and he heaved a sigh. It was time to go already.

He hesitated, but as his stomach rumbled, he took a bite of his disgusting bread anyway. It was still better than eating nothing. He chewed with a wince, struggling to vanquish the piece of food. But he eventually swallowed, forcing the bread down his throat, emptied his cup of water in one large gulp, and opened the door of his apartment.

As he walked down the stairs, he came across his lodger: a crooked woman with a voice made hoarse by too many cigarettes. She greeted Obi-Wan with a nod, and before he could walk down the next flight of stairs, she stopped him in his tracks.

"I need the rent by the end of the week, Kenobi," she croaked, and Obi-Wan couldn’t help comparing her to a witch.

"I will be paid tomorrow, so you’ll have your money," he answered with a polite smile.

"If yer late, yer out," she hissed through the six teeth she had left.

"I’ve been living here for a year. Have I ever been late to pay the rent?"

"’S not ‘cause yer were on time before tha’ I ain’t gonna throw you ou’ if yer late this time!" She replied.

"I wouldn’t expect anything less from you," Obi-Wan replied, touching the tip of his cap to bid her a silent goodbye, before he turned on his heels and hurried down the stairs.

The air outside was vivifying and Obi-Wan took a second to close his eyes and enjoy the way the breeze caressed his tired face. He took a deep breath, but there was nothing nice to smell. The street smelled of cheap spirit, cigarettes and the peculiar fragrance of the London fog, a little bitter and wet, like a bad storm in the summer. Pollution mingled with water droplets formed the clouds that covered most of the streets at this early hour. Eventually, he started down the street.

If October was still young, he quickly found the breeze chilly though, and he tightened his large coat around his frame. At such an hour, only early workers like Obi-Wan were awake, and he walked through the empty street with a quick pace. He had to take the bus to get to the central service of the Daily Mail to get the large pile of newspapers he would have to sell in a busy street of London today.

The mere thought of shouting all day long made him clear his throat. As usual, he would be barely able to talk by the evening, and would have to rely on the warm tea he would drink after work to heal his burning throat.

He wondered what the headlines would be today. What slogan would he have to shout through the hurrying crowd that, more often than not, didn’t pay any attention to him? Something about Baldwin’s government? Or would it be a news from the Royal Family?

It didn't really matter, actually. He would shout what needed to be shouted. As long as he was paid tomorrow, then all was fine.

He passed through a little alley on his left, leaving Lindley Street, taking a look through the garbage of the grocery store as he passed before the back door of the shop. He looked for a few seconds at some pieces of food thrown on the ground. A couple of lettuces, some potatoes and even a few apples. They were far from fresh, but he had no doubt that they would be gone when he would walk through the street again tonight. For sure, some poor soul would have taken them and tried to make the best out of them.

He emerged on the larger Oxford Street and kept on walking for a few minutes before he would reach the main street where he could find a bus. Despite the early hour, Whitechapel Road was buzzing with activities. Some were hurrying to work just like Obi-Wan, others were already trying to sell whatever garbage they owned. He kept a careful watch on the group of children playing a few feet away from the bus stop, knowing that they were probably some eager and talented pickpockets.

He passed before a homeless veteran and gave him a few coppers. The man thanked him with a smile, turning his broken face towards Obi-Wan. He wished he could have done more, but if he wanted to eat tonight, there was nothing more to be done.

He found his friend and colleague Charles Boardman already waiting at the bus stop. A sick-looking man with a kind heart and a pierced cap he couldn't afford to change with his three children to feed.

"Hey! Ben! How are you? You've rested your voice, I hope!"

Obi-Wan couldn't help but smile at the joyous mood of his colleague. He was always enthusiastic about everything.

"I have. It's getting cold though."

"Aye… don't mention it. I have to buy coats for the kids. Where am I supposed to find coats I can actually buy?"

"A shame we're too old for Santa Claus to bring us whatever we want."

Charles loudly laughed at his friend's humour.

"And he would be late in the season too! But well, at least we have some work to do."

The bus stopped before the talking men and they climbed in and took a seat. Obi-Wan turned his gaze to the streets he knew by heart, still lost in the dirty fog.

"Maggie wanted me to invite you for lunch on Sunday," Charles went on.

"That's very kind of her," Obi-Wan thanked his friend. "But if she means to introduce me to another one of her single friends then I will have to decline."

"Ben… you can't stay alone like that! You should meet more people. Try to get more… social."

"More 'social'? Does that even mean anything?"

"Of course, it does. You barely get out these days."

"I do visit my friends," Obi-Wan defended himself, turning to Charles again.

"It's not good for a man to live all alone. Humans aren't made for loneliness."

"Well, I guess I'm not so much of a human then, as I like being alone."

"I met the girl. She's sweet, beautiful… you two would make a good match."

"If I were to actually start a relationship with a woman, I would do it on more solid basis than the two of us 'making a good match'."

"How can you know you won't like her if you don't meet her?"

"Because I didn't like the 12 previous women your wife tried to make me marry."

"Ben…"

"I don't need love in my life. Not that kind of love at least. What I need is a new flat. One where I won't freeze to death this winter."

"I heard there was some movement down on Spencer Street."

"There's always movement on Spencer Street. Generally not for a good reason."

Obi-Wan heaved a sigh.

"I need to find more blankets."

"I know someone who could help."

"No, that's alright, I'll go ask Hondo."

"Hondo? Are you crazy? He's a crook!"

"Everyone is a crook around here, Charles."

"I'm not! And you aren't either!"

"That's because we have a conscience. Big mistake we've made here."

"Speaking of conscience, have you heard about the meeting set for tonight?"

"Yes, I heard from Padmé. Will you go?"

"Aye. Have to. The union's important business."

"What does Maggie say about it?"

"She's not that happy about it, but there's nothing she can do to stop me from going either."

Obi-Wan let out a chuckle.

"Rebel, are we?"

"Very funny…"

They reached their stop and got off the bus, joining the flow of hurrying people crossing the street. Only a couple of minutes more and they arrived at the building of the Daily Mail on Fleet Street. An impressive piece of Victorian architecture from which men in suits walked in and out without interruption. But the two men didn’t get in using the main door. It would have been strange for two men of their condition to enter the large hall. Instead, they took a little wooden door set on the left side, that led to the presses. Their boss was already waiting for them.

"Ha, Kenobi and Boardman. Together, as usual. Move your asses ‘round here and get t’ work."

"Well, good morning to you as well," Obi-Wan smiled as he picked up a few piles of the newspapers set on the ground next to his boss.

"Kenobi, you’re taking Charing Cross today. Boardman, you go to Trafalgar Square. Move it!"

They both carried their heavy newspapers outside without a word.

"His manners and politeness are what I love most about him," Obi-Wan joked right before they parted, each of them going to the place they had been appointed to, and Charles walked away with a shiny laughter.

It didn’t take so long for Obi-Wan to reach the train station, and he settled right before the entrance of the large red building. Its large windows shone with a pale glimmer now as dawn turned from golden to a pastel shade of yellow. In contrast with the vivid colour of the bricks, slightly diminished by the dark pollution, the light on the windows shone even more. A few people walked out of the station, and Obi-Wan checked the main news of the day. A raise on the price of bread. It made him wince. As if he needed this…

But he shouted it anyway.

"Newspapers! Buy the news! The price of bread goes up! Come on, newspapers!"

A gentleman dressed in a fine suit handed him a coin without a word, and Obi-Wan gave him a copy of the news in exchange. He thanked the man with a polite 'thank you, sir’ and a touch of his cap, but the rich gentleman didn’t have a word or gesture for him. He was gone before Obi-Wan could put the coin safely in his pocket.

Was he used to this behaviour? Yes.

Did it still hurt to go around completely ignored? Every time.

Pride was hardly something he could afford though. So, he resumed his shouting for the strangers passing by, showing the newspaper frontpage.

"Newspapers for today! Buy the news!"

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

His throat was sore and his voice hoarse. He could barely speak. His feet were painful after standing all day long. But his pocket was full of coins, and that was all that mattered. He checked the time and heaved a tired sigh. He could finally go home.

He picked up the few newspapers he still had and walked back towards Fleet Street. After hours spent outside, his cheeks were burning under the cold wind. With the fading sun, the temperatures dropped in this late evening, and Obi-Wan caught himself shivering. He made a mental note to ask Hondo for a scarf as well. After all, if he was sick and couldn’t speak, he wouldn’t be able to work.

As he arrived to the press again, he wasn’t surprised to find Charles waiting for him, smoking a cigarette and leaning against the wall next to the door, so Obi-Wan hurried inside.

He was last to arrive, like he was most days. He reckoned that working a few minutes more everyday without asking for more money decreased the risk of losing his job. And with winter approaching, he needed to keep a stable situation for a few more months.

He gave the money and the newspapers to his boss without a word, and was about to leave with only a polite nod, when the man stopped him.

"Kenobi, a word."

He heaved a sigh as Obi-Wan still stood before him.

"Look, ain’t no point in looking for a soft way to say it. Don’t come back tomorrow."

"What?!"

Obi-Wan’s tone was loud enough to draw the attention of everyone in the room.

"Why?! What…!?"

"Let’s not make a scene. You can find something else. It was you or your friend Boardman. I was kind enough to keep the one with children."

"I need this job. Come on, I’ve never complained about anything, I’ve never said no to work more…"

"The order comes from all the way up. I have to cut the expenses on our employees."

He handed Obi-Wan a few coins.

"Here’s your pay. Take it."

"But why…?"

"Get out now, Kenobi. We know you’re in the union."

"It’s not illegal to be, you know?"

"No. But it gives me an easy choice. Your friend is lucky I thought about his children."

Obi-Wan looked at the coins polished by time, and he hesitated. He could have tried to keep the job, but he reckoned it wasn’t worth it. Instead, he took the money, turned on his heels, and walked with his chin high.

Despite his proud stature, Charles saw right away that something was amiss.

"What’s wrong?"

"I’m fired."

"What?!"

"I thought your hearing was better than that…"

"Ben, it’s not the time for jokes. What happened?"

Obi-Wan shrugged, putting the coins in his pocket.

"I guess they want to save money on our backs. It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last. But it’s okay. I’ll find something else."

"Where? No one’s hiring these days."

Obi-Wan didn’t tell his friend his head had been on the line as well. There was no need to put such worry on his shoulders. Instead, he patted his shoulder with a sad smile.

"I’ll take a walk tonight. Sorry for keeping you waiting."

"You’ll come on Sunday then, right? You have to. Maggie will make us a nice stew."

"Thank you. I could hardly refuse her cooking."

He started down the street, and zoned out for a long while. Not before he reached St Paul’s cathedral did he look up at the world again. The dying sun was almost gone and the lamplighters were turning on the lampposts. It felt a little gloomy, the dome of the cathedral towering the surrounding building. As he reached the entrance, he couldn’t help but feel like a fragile little thing under the heavy weight of God. In the dying sun, the statues of angels and saints seemed drenched in blood.

Obi-Wan remained motionless for a while, his eyes turned upwards to stare at the impressive stones. Around him, strangers hurried to and fro in a chaotic and fast ballet, sometimes bumping into him without a glance. But he ignored the busy crowd. Instead, he stared at the statues, imagining that the saints they represented could see him. Perhaps, if he didn’t know the answer to his question, then they would.

What would he do now?

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

The old hangar on the docks was full. The holes on the roof let the wind come roaring inside, and it was just as cold inside than outside, but nobody there minded the weather. Important discussions among the unions were going on these days.

The mining industry was crippled. Between the growing cost of extracting coal, the fall on foreign coal prices since the war as Britain had then lowered its exportations for other nations to fill the gap, along with the worth of the pound that was way too high in comparison with other foreign currencies since the re-establishment of the gold standard by Churchill, the miners were paid less and less to work more and more. The exportation of coal had kept on going down since the beginning of the war, which meant less profit, which led to less food on the table for the miners and their families. And it was the entire work force that felt concerned by the situation.

"What will happen after the measures of the Red Friday are gone?" Padmé asked to the crowd. "The government announced nine months of subsidy, but what happens next? The wages won’t be back up by then. How can we go on with less than 4 pounds? How can we feed our children and pay to put clothes on their backs and a roof above their heads? The pay has been lowered by 13 % in seven years. How can they live with that?"

The crowd was shaken by a wave of agreement, and Obi-Wan couldn’t refrain a chuckle.

"Your wife is particularly eloquent tonight. Did the two of you have a fight?"

By his side, Anakin rolled his eyes.

"She is always eloquent," he replied to his best friend’s joke.

"She's even more so whenever she has to let out her anger against you through a speech."

"Uncle Ben, I can’t see a thing…" the little Leia pouted.

She didn’t need to ask twice for Obi-Wan to pick her up and settle her in his arms. From there, she could easily see her mother above the crowd, set in one of the broken staircases.

"We can’t ask for a strike again," her opponent, Palpatine, replied with a shake of his head. "Give the government a chance."

"Baldwin is merely stalling to make sure he’s ready when the big strike comes," Padmé snapped back.

"We should ask for a counter-act about the gold standard. Ask for Churchill to take a step back. If the pound drops, the coal will be sold outside Britain again. It will give some oxygen to everyone," intervened Bail Organa, from the Labour Party.

"Churchill will not budge. We should wait and see," Palpatine replied.

"You still haven’t told me what’s wrong, by the way," Anakin went on while the crowd was shaken by whispers.

He readjusted the little Luke in his arms, the boy sitting on his wounded forearm. He had come at peace with the empty space that had replaced the hand he had lost during the war. He had learnt to live without it. He reckoned they all had had to learn to live without something when they came back.

The six years old in his arms was starting to fall asleep, and Anakin dropped a sweet peck in his sons’ brown locks.

"What makes you think something’s wrong?" Obi-Wan tried to escape, but Anakin was not fooled.

"What happened?"

Obi-Wan heaved a sigh. His friend would not drop the question so easily.

"I was fired today."

"What?! Why?!"

Obi-Wan merely shrugged.

"Expenses. Apparently, they reckoned that there was no use in keeping with them a man in the union. It’s okay. It could have been worse. Charles was on the line too. Don’t tell him though, he’s worried about money enough already."

Anakin seemed to think for a while, but he shook his head.

"I don’t think they’re hiring anyone at the factory. But I’ll ask around anyway. And I’m sure the others will have something. Have you spoken with Rex or Cody about it yet? Or perhaps the Major."

"I reckon the mining business is not one to aim for. Have you not been paying attention at all to what your wife’s been saying tonight?"

"It’s better than nothing."

"I’ll find something, Anakin. Don’t worry about me."

"But Obi-Wan…"

"Stop worrying. I can handle it."

Leia let her little fingers roam through Obi-Wan’s beard, the sensation making her giggle. When she passed her hand closer to his mouth, he faked to try to bite her fingers, making her shriek and laugh. Her dark curls were a mess as she yawned, rubbed her eyes, and finally wrapped her tiny arms around Obi-Wan’s neck. She rested her head in the crook of his neck, and he dropped a peck in her hair. He felt that she was trying not to sleep though, her batting lashes tickling his neck.

"Leia, you can sleep, darling."

"I don’t want to," she protested.

He slowly started to sway, humming under his breath an old lullaby, until her eyelashes stopped moving, and he recognized the soothed rhythm of her breathing. And just like her twin brother, she was soon asleep.

"You spend your time taking care of others, it’s more than time that you stop being selfless and accept some help," Anakin advised.

"I hate it when you’re wiser than me."

"You practically raised me. You just taught me well."

"I’ll ask Cody and Rex. Are you happy now?"

"Very," Anakin answered with a genuine smile.

The debate raged on for a while but no one asked for a strike in the end. A new session would be organized soon. In the meantime, the union was available for personal requests. Padmé was held up for a while and several people talked with Obi-Wan and Anakin as well, knowing their implication in the Trades Union Congress that gathered the unions of the main industrial sectors. There were also some practical questions about prices and stores. A part of the men left for the pub, but learning about Obi-Wan's misadventure, Padmé was adamant at keeping the veterans for dinner.

"The four of you are coming over tonight, and I will not accept a no."

So Rex, Cody, Obi-Wan and ‘Major’ Windu all followed the Skywalker family as the night grew darker and darker around them.

No one was surprised to find a girl waiting for them before their doorstep, and Ahsoka was welcomed in as well. She worked at the factory with Anakin, and he had grown fond of her, considering her quickly as a younger sister. It was only natural that she would join the family.

She took off her pierced cap and threw her brown jacket that was too large for her on a chair. Her gestures were not questioned, after all, she almost lived there.

Meanwhile, Obi-Wan and Anakin put the children to bed, the two old pieces of furniture set in the corner of the living room. With Obi-Wan’s and Cody’s help, they had set a curtain to separate the beds from the rest of the large living room, creating the illusion that the children had their own room.

When they joined the rest of the adults, Padmé, Rex and Ahsoka were already setting up the table.

"I’ve thought about it, but I don’t reckon that there is any job available at the mine these days," Windu shook his head as his friend took a seat next to him.

"It’s okay. It was worth asking," Obi-Wan thanked him, throwing a side glance to Anakin.

"Nothing on the docks either. I’m sorry, Captain," Rex shook his head.

Despite the many years that had flown by, Rex was still unable to call Obi-Wan by his first name. Their ranks were still the only way he could call both Obi-Wan and Anakin. Concerning Windu, everybody still called him Major anyway. If Obi-Wan had tried to fight his friend's habit at first, he had given up a long time ago. Instead, he merely accepted the title again.

"I may know someone," Cody intervened. "A lamplighter. I mean, it's not an amazing job but it pays fair enough."

"Don't put yourself on the line for me, Cody."

"I'm not. I know one of the guys working there. I'll ask him tomorrow, I'm to see him at the pub anyway."

Obi-Wan thanked him with a smile, but was interrupted by Padmé bringing a large saucepan filled with soup.

"Come on now, let's talk of merrier things," Ahsoka ordered.

"Leia managed to read the headlines of the newspapers today," Padmé chimed proudly.

"She's a clever girl," Rex nodded.

"As long as she turns smarter than her godfather, all is fine," Anakin added in an innocent tone.

Obi-Wan stopped his movement right before his spoon would reach his lips, and threw a serious look at his best friend.

"Well, I hope so too," he answered in this half-serious, half-humorous tone of his he always used to tease his brother. "Then, she will have outsmarted all the members of her family. Except for her mother, of course," he added with a wink to Padmé, making the whole table laugh.

The night went on until the sky was as dark as ink and the stars shining like diamonds lying on a layer of velvet. The constant fog that seemed to linger in the streets of London partly hid their cold light. Eventually, the group of friends broke out to get some rest before the next day of hard work that awaited them all. But when they left the Skywalkers' home, they all had a happy spirit and a smile on their lips.

After all, the only thing that mattered were the people they loved and called family.

*************************

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sirenasinsib · 5 years ago

Text

“Are you sure about this?”

His partner spoke, wrapping her jacket tighter around herself. It was a cold night but the wind made it feel worse. He turned back to face her when he stopped walking.

“You said you wanted to see it, didn’t you?”

It was a large robot he found when looking through abandoned buildings to find a good spot for paint. The thing was a massive robot but it appeared to be offline and left to rust, no matter how much he poked it, it didn’t move. He told his friend about it immediately wanted to see it but now that they were getting closer he guess her nerves were acting up.

“Yeah but, when you said left in a factory I didn’t think you actually meant it.”

“C’mon, just a quick look then we’ll leave, ya?”

She nodded and quickly caught up.

He found the old door that was rusted open and walked in, turning on his flashlight in the process, she grabbed his hand. They walked a bit before slowing down.

“Should be over . . . here . . . where did it go?”

It was gone, nothing showed where it went, there was no way it was gone, he was away for a few hours and yet here they were, with no robot.

“Maybe someone else found it.”

“Yeah but . . . The trailer doors! There is no way they could have moved it without them being messed up!”

He ran over to where the doors were and they appeared in the same state when he last came by. This left him confused, frustrated, and disappointed. His friend walked up, placing a hand on his shoulder in comfort as she spoke.

“Someone could have found it before and decided to take it while you were gone, many have been getting captured. Come on and let’s go, this place is starting to creep me out.”

She tugged on him slightly before stopping and gasping. He turned to her before looking at what she was seeing. It was the robot but it was active and hanging from a wall. He saw the fins flicker slightly before it started to crawl off the wall. His skin crawled seeing the way it moved before it landed with two loud bangs as the feet settled on the ground.

“It is rude to invite yourself unannounced.”

It spoke. The voice was deep, masculine, as it slowly stalked forward.

“We’re sorry! We’ll leave immediately and won’t tell anyone!”

His friend spoke as she started to back up. He didn’t trust the way it was approaching but felt that if he moved it might anger it, he placed a hand on his friends back to stop her from moving.

“No, you won’t, not yet at least. There is a . . . punishment you must take for coming in here. Something you both can provide.”

Wires started to come out of its back as it moved faster to them now. He panicked then and the both of them started to scramble back till their backs hit the large trailer doors. He tried opening it but the doors wouldn’t budge.

He turned back only to see the robot very close now and felt as a wire wrapped around his legs. He tried to kick and pull it off but another wire joined in, tangling around his arms. He struggled against it, catching a glimpse of the same happening to his friend before he was flipped upside down.

The sudden blood rush made him dizzy as the wires twisted and turned his body. He could faintly see them moving away from the door and farther into the factory. He was flipped right side up and glanced at his friend, she was still, drooping almost in its hold. Maybe it was time to give in to the robot.

He stared at the back of the bot, watching as it’s fins flicked in a pattern as lights traveled through the wire at the same time. His body drooping and becomes relaxed in the process.

They were somewhere warm and better lighting, he could see monitors and other computer hardware in the room before being placed on the bed beside his partner. She cuddled into his side and he welcomed her touch on the few bits of skin showing through his layers of clothes.

“You two will be punished until I deem fit. That is if you can handle it . . . if you want it.”

The wires tugged at their clothes, allowing hinting at what the large bot meant.

His partner tucked her face into his neck as she gasped, one of the wires coiled near her breast as another coiled on his thigh. He thrusted slightly, trying to get it closer but it didn’t move.

“You must tell me if you want it. I know you can speak. I haven’t completely rendered your will to mine.”

Was that why he felt so calm and relaxed. He ignored that topic for now focused on if he truly wanted it and if he was going to be ok as well as his friend.

“C’mon, what’s the worst that could happen. We both need this.”

His friend spoke quietly in his ear and he felt her shift her hips slowly back and forth. Feeling her rub right beside him slowly drew him closer and he could start to feel the tightness in his pants.

“Yeah? Alright, I’m in.”

He spoke and felt the wires snap his pants button before one crawled under his jacket and shirt.

“Not yet, but, you will be.”

He could hear the humor but ignored it, rather just feeling as it’s wires rubbed over his body. Slowly the clothes came off before he heard the faint tapping of metal get quiet as it moved away. He glanced at it, seeing it hop out of the large chassie and walk around. It was shorter now but still had some height compared to them.

He heard his partner gasp as she glanced at it as well. Her eyes focused much lower to what it had. He gave a soft groan, of course it had its own dick, it uses a male voice.

It approached slowly as the wires pulled at their clothes, getting what it could off before the robot itself had to lift them slightly to pull the rest of it away. It lifted his friend, bringer her close to its body as her legs went around its waist, a hum released from deep in its chest as it faced away from him and positioned itself above his own cock.

It had its own cunt as well and the small Blue light inside let him see the small amount of slick slowly drip out as it made itself wet. Slowly the big bot sank onto his cock, the cool but tight silicone making him dizzy. He moaned out as it vibrated around him. He could barely see his female friend on the other side of the bot, but the slight added weight made him groan.

She moaned as she sank onto the bots own cock, the grooves catching on her walls. It lifted her before it’s arms seemed to lock in place and it rose. It’s thrust rotating between sinking onto the cock and shoving it’s own into his partner.

It’s large wires were busy feeling at the two humans but there were many more on its back, he was sure they were sensitive. His hands traveled to the small waist before gently sliding over its back wires. The gentle rubs causing it to hum before he gave a small tug. It gave a static filled moan as it slammed roughly down.

“K-k-keep doing tha-a-at and you will pay.”

It’s vocal box broke in and out, trying to clear the static. He felt cocky and tugged again this time a little harder and on a few more and he could see the lights on it gave a brief flash.

It gave a grunt as it kept its pace before slowly getting faster. He could feel the pressure build before it snapped. The bot slammed down, yanking his partner down as well as all of them released. Slowly it lifted off his hips, turning to lay the girl on the bed as she recovered before it hovered back over his semi-soft dick, it’s faceplate starting at him.

“I said you will pay.”

It placed itself back over him and he groaned, slowly getting completely hard again, the pace was slow, torturing him with each push and pull. Slowly it went faster and he groaned so close to the edge before it slowed down. He whines as the edge slowly went away.

“Beg for it. Beg and I will let you cum. I won’t hold back.”

“Ahh-please-please. Let me-please.”

He couldn’t speak a full sentence as the bot gave a thrust at each word but stopped.

“More, beg for it more.”

It’s voice hissed quietly in his ear.

“Please just let me cum. I need to!”

It gave a static filled snarl as it mercilessly thrusted up and down. He groaned hard as it continued even after he came and continued. He felt very sensitive, it’s own slick as well as his cum dripped down his cock when it lifted its waist. Till finally it slapped down one last time, it’s screen flickering as more cum tricked out.

Slowly it slipped up and off and laid beside him. He breathed and glanced over seeing his friend slowly straddle it’s waist before sinking down eagerly. He was worn out yet the bot was already going again.

It was going to be a long night.

#nsft #Covert #Original #Writting #robophilia

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imagineclaireandjamie · 6 years ago

Text

Hope in Change - Epilogue

Murtagh stumbles across a couple arguing in the street and quickly realizes the young woman is Brianna.

Part One, Part Two, Part Three, Part Four, Part Five

Murtagh, Jamie, and Ian were at work building a cabin for Fergus and Marsali and Claire had taken Lizzie to help deliver a baby at one of the settler’s cabins several miles away, so Brianna volunteered to run back and forth fetching spare or replacement tools, bringing food and water, leading Clarence back to his pen when they’d finished moving the heavier logs into place for stripping and cutting.

The mule was stubborn and reluctant to return to captivity after having a chance to stretch his legs and do more than pull a cart. Each time Brianna disappeared around the house to grab him some more food or check to see how the laundry was drying on the line, he made a ruckus when she came back into sight and stamped his foot to get her attention.

“You’re like a toddler throwing a tantrum,” she muttered before rolling her eyes and heading to check on the goats and horses for their midday meal.

This time he started making noises before she’d even reached an area where he could see her. But when she rounded the corner he wasn’t alone.

“Roger?” she gasped, dropping an empty pail to the ground and running to him as he tried to dismount before his horse had stopped walking. She threw herself in his arms and buried her face in his neck. He held her tightly, sighing with relief.

“You need a bath,” she told him, her words muffled by his coat.

“Nice to see you too,” he chuckled, pulling back to look at her. She smiled then stood on her toes to kiss him.

“Did Bonnet or his men give you any more trouble? They didn’t hurt you, did they? Is that why it took you so long to find your way here?” she rambled, her eyes roving over him taking in the details of his appearance to be sure he was really there and truly in one piece.

He laughed again taking a step back to spread his arms so she could better see him. “I’m no injured. They gave me a hard time but it wasna anything I couldna handle—no after spending all that time wi’ them at sea. And it took me so long to get here because it’s a long bloody way from Philadelphia to Fraser’s Ridge when ye’ve naught but yer own two feet for much of the way—it has to be close to a thousand miles… or at least, it feels that far. I didna manage to find a horse I could afford till I’d nearly reached Virginia.”

Convinced by his cheerful indignation, Brianna grinned and moved to lead his horse to the barn while she filled him in on what she’d been up to in his absence.

“Mama probably won’t be back until tomorrow but Da and the others will be home a little before dark. Come in and help me make supper and maybe I’ll let you have some too,” she teased.

There wasn’t much left to be done as she’d accomplished the more difficult preparation earlier—dough for a pie crust, the meat (venison) cleaned and cut as finely as she could manage, kept that separate from the potatoes and carrots she’d diced. She rolled out the dough and began piecing the elements together while Roger built up the fire in the hearth.

“How are ye doin’ wi’ everything?” Roger asked, taking a seat on the bench opposite and watching her closely.

“It’s… been interesting. I’ve been hunting with Jamie and we’ve talked a lot. It’s strange, but not in a bad way… just… disorienting,” she told him, her attention entirely on the food in her hands as she stacked and arranged the pie’s filling, careful to make sure all the ingredients were distributed in equal measure. “It’s hard to explain. Every time I feel like I’ve got a handle on the past—on my childhood—I see something or hear a story and it shifts all over again. Like when I see him come up behind my mother and rub her neck… and she leaned into it and… I remember all the times I saw Daddy try to do that and she shrugged him off… until he just stopped touching her that way. I don’t think I’ll ever stop being surprised by him—by them. You’ll hardly recognize Mama when you see her.”

“Bein’ in this time… it changes ye,” he agreed. “Makes sense now, how different yer mam could be after she returned—and no just because of Jamie. I ken I’ve a newfound appreciation for many a convenience I took for granted back home. Indoor plumbing and modern transportation bein’ verra high on that list. I’ll say a prayer of thanks each and every time I so much as look at a proper toilet.”

Brianna gave him a weak smile as she crimped the crust on the pie and turned to set it into the brick oven at the side of the hearth. The rebuilt fire was beginning to warm the space but it would take a while for the pie to be thoroughly cooked.

“I’ll get you some water you can use to clean up,” Brianna said, puttering around the cabin to locate a bucket and fill it with warm water from the enormous cauldron near the hearth. She led him out the door and in the direction of a small hut. “Since Lizzie went with Mama and they shouldn’t be back till tomorrow, you can borrow her bed tonight. We can figure out something else in the morning. You’ll want to rest and brace yourself for meeting my father and cousin. Murtagh shouldn’t be too intimidating for you at this point. Blankets,” she exclaimed after setting the bucket down. “I’ll go find some.”

By the time she returned, Roger had managed to clear most of the sweat and dust from his face, neck, and arms. He’d pulled his shirt off as well and was splashing water over his chest and dribbling it down his back, not caring that it was soaking into his breeks and continuing on its way down the rest of his body. He had a single change of clothes in his pack but those weren’t in much better shape than what he was wearing.

“Here,” Brianna said, showing him the quilt and furs she’d brought. She set them down on the bed along one side of the hut’s walls. She stepped closer to him, taking the ragged stock he was using as a washcloth and wringing it out thoroughly before wetting it again and helping him reach the difficult spots on his back. “Hmm. Much better. I’ll show you the creek we use for bathing in the morning. It’s a bit chilly but easier than trying to heat the water for a hot bath.”

“If that’s Lizzie’s bed,” Roger nodded to the one she’d put the blankets on, “then the other would be yers, I’m guessin’?”

“You would be guessing right,” Brianna confirmed. “And… you don’t have to sleep in Lizzie’s bed if you don’t want to. It’s small but it’ll be warmer and cozier in mine.”

“Bree… I’ve missed ye—Lord knows I have—but… have ye changed yer mind? About marryin’ me?” he asked quietly.

“I can’t,” she told him, tears in her eyes. “I just… it wouldn’t be fair to you. Not when things are so different now.”

“Different?” he asked, taking a step closer to her. “Different how? Ye still want to take me to yer bed. Tha’s no different, or am I misunderstandin’ yer invitation?”

Her cheeks went pink with embarrassment.

“No, I still love you and want you to be the first man I… take to my bed, as you put it. But… spending these last weeks with Mama and Da… I told them about the fire. They’re not sure there’s anything that can be done to keep it from happening either. And we don’t know when exactly it’s going to happen. It could be this year or the next or five years from now… But just in case we can’t stop it and the worst does happen… I don’t want to regret that I didn’t spend more time with them when I had a chance to.”

Roger took a step back, his expression going slack as what she meant sank in. “Ye’re stayin’ here. Ye mean to stay no just for a few weeks or months… but years.”

“Yes. I remember what it was like to lose Daddy and how much I wished I’d agreed to go with him when he had to run errands or that I’d stayed at the office with him while he worked and I’d gone off with my friends instead. I want to know that I’ve done everything I can to save my parents and that I spent every second with them that I could.”

“And ye dinna think I’d stay with ye?”

“It wouldn’t be fair for me to ask you to,” Brianna pressed, her face getting redder as she forced herself to confess, “and I don’t want to lose you without knowing what it’s like to be with you, to show you how much I do love you.”

Roger laughed and the redness in Brianna’s face switched from the self-conscious shades toward those darker shades born of rising fury. But he rested his hands on her shoulders and smiled at her narrowed eyes and furrowed brow.

“Ye’re not askin’ and ye dinna need to. Ever. If ye’re goin’ to stay then so am I. Ye love me enough to let me go? I love you enough not to care where—or when—we are, so long as it’s together.”

Her face softened and tears pooled in her eyes as she beamed at him a second before throwing her arms around him and kissing him silly.

They laughed and held each other tight, Roger lifting her off her feet and spinning her around in the cramped quarters of the hut. Setting her down again, Roger kissed her softly, then again longer. She clung to the damp, bare muscles of his back, pressed herself against the length of him. They pulled back to look at each other, the simple joy replaced with the deeper yearning both felt. Neither said a word as Brianna pulled him toward her bed.

“The spare head should be right inside the barn door,” Jamie told Lizzie while Claire fussed with the dressing around his hand. “Be quick about it. Murtagh will be lookin’ for it. We wanted to be done wi’ preppin’ the beams ‘fore givin’ up for the day and he’s stubborn enough to try workin’ in the dark… And Ian’s foolish enough to go along wi’ it.”

“Oh, give them more credit than that,” Claire suggested, frowning at the cut on the back of Jamie’s hand from when the head of the hatchet came loose mid swing and flown off the handle. His reflexes were fast or he might have been in danger of losing the hand altogether. Instead it was superficial and shallow, a scrape across the back with deeper gouges at the knuckles. “Or give yourself fewer airs. If it weren’t for your mishap here, you’d be just as determined to work whatever the light conditions might be. Let’s get inside so I can clean and bandage this properly.”

“I need to tend yer horse,” he objected, moving to take the reins even as she reached to release the straps that held her medical box in place.

“I can tend the horse while you go in and rest a few minutes,” she insisted. “See what we have for supper and—”

“Bree came back to make supper some time ago,” Jamie reminded her. “We hadna thought ye’d be back tonight.”

“Well, that’s what happens when the baby arrives before the midwife. All it took was a quick check on mother and child, a small glass of whisky to wet the baby’s head, and we were headed back the way we came.”

“Mistress Claire, Mister Jamie,” Lizzie exclaimed, running toward them with the spare hatchet head in her hand. “There’s a strange horse in the barn,” she informed them, her eyes wide and frightened.

“Never mind about that,” Jamie told her calmly. “Get that back to Murtagh and Ian and stay wi’ them until they come home. Perhaps wi’ you waitin’ there for ‘em they’ll decide to just be done for the day.”

Lizzie nodded and headed off down the path.

When she was out of sight Claire began calling for Brianna and Jamie went to check the house when she failed to appear.

“There’s a pie cookin’ in the oven,” he told Claire, “so she’s no likely to have gone far.”

“And the ‘strange horse’ is in the barn so whoever it belongs to must be nearby as well. Perhaps they only went to fetch wood or to get more water,” Claire suggested hopefully.

A moment later, Brianna emerged from the hut she shared with Lizzie. She brushed some loose curls out of her flushed face and smoothed her hands down the front of her bodice.

“Mama… What’re you doing home? You weren’t supposed to be back till tomorrow,” Brianna remarked.

“The baby came quick,” Claire explained, her eyes narrowing at her daughter.

“D’ye ken who the horse in the barn belongs to, a nighean?” Jamie asked.

“Actually… yes. Roger arrived a little while ago. I was making up Lizzie’s bed for him since she was supposed to be with you all night, Mama. But I can put it back the way it was and he can sleep somewhere else. He’s cleaning up a bit from being on the road so long,” she told them, glancing back over her shoulder.

Roger poked his head out. “Good to see ye, Claire. I’ll right there. Dinna want to be sayin’ ‘hello’ still smellin’ of horse.”

“Mmmhmm,” Claire murmured, trying to keep a straight face as she turned to look at Jamie. He looked torn between laughter and shock. “We’ll be in the cabin when you’re ready,” Claire called to them, nudging Jamie in the other direction. “Your father hurt his hand and I need to clean it.”

#so in this version (if I kept going) roger and bree would be handfast (in front of her family) within a fortnight #and they'd realize she's pregnant with Jem a few weeks after that #;mod lenny #Hope in Change AU #show!verse #featuring: bree #featuring: roger #featuring: lizzie

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