#and these dogs are very high maintenance so i have been far too busy to have energy to think | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

jingabitch · 5 years ago

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Don’t Ask, Don’t Tell ch.1

Summary: When you were ten, Taehyung adopted you and gave you a home. Now that you’re eighteen, the sudden change in your scent perplexes and confounds him.

Pairing: wolf hybrid!tae x human!reader (all bts members are hybrids)

Word count: 10.5k

A/N: here it is!! I hope you enjoy it and tell me what you think; I was really unsure about writing this, especially at the beginning. Edit: I will not be doing a taglist, so please don't ask. Thank you!

Series index

“Hyung –” Taehyung whined as he sulked on the couch of the dorm.

Yoongi sighed, looking over at his team member. “What is it, Taehyung-ie?”

“I’m bored,” Taehyung replied, crossing his arms over his chest as he slid down on the couch, his usually perky ears drooping.

The snow leopard hybrid just grunted, flicking one of his ears in irritation. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Hyung, come play with me, please?”

Namjoon, who was lying on the adjacent couch, stifled a snicker. Taehyung had been more needy than usual in the past few weeks, and he was working Yoongi’s last nerve. The older man had inherited his animal counterpart’s solitary tendencies, and while he was, for the most part, happy to socialize and hang out with the rest of them, Taehyung had been cutting into his alone time a little too much lately with his neediness, and the grey-haired hybrid was Not Happy.

Jin, their resident spotted hyena hybrid, laughed, a sound very reminiscent of his animal counterpart’s trademark sound. “Yoongi, just play with him. He’s lonely.”

Yoongi scowled. “Why do I have to do it?! Isn’t this why you got a pet in the first place, to keep you company?”

Taehyung’s frown deepened. “It is, but as you can clearly see,” he bit out, upset now, “Yeontan isn’t here.”

Hoseok, seeing the snow leopard hybrid taking in a deep breath to begin ranting, cut into the conversation to save the wolf hybrid from a scolding. “Hyung, you know how Tae is. He misses the company, is all.”

“Why don’t you just get another pet, then?” Yoongi asked.

“Because the same thing would happen, hyung,” Taehyung responded drolly, unable to hide his irritation at what he clearly thought was a ridiculous suggestion. “I don’t want to get attached to another pet, and then have to palm it off onto my parents again.”

Namjoon, ever the problem solver, lit up in that way that happened only when he had a eureka moment. “Get a human, then!”

The rest of them gawked at him. “A human?!” Jin asked skeptically.

“Yah, if he didn’t have time for a dog, how’s he going to care for a human baby? They’re even more high maintenance, and for way longer!” Yoongi snapped.

Namjoon made a rude noise. “Don’t get a baby, then! There’s lots of children and adolescents in shelters that need good homes. You can get one of those; they’re more self-sufficient.”

Taehyung’s mouth dropped open in shock. “That’s genius!”

Jungkook and Jimin, who had until now remained out of the conversation, immediately leapt up excitedly. “Yes, yes, can we adopt a human, pleaaaase,” Jimin pleaded. The black-footed cat hybrid, already small in stature and adorable because of his animal genes, opened his eyes wider and pouted up at the others.

Taehyung and Jungkook, seeing him, followed suit, and before long, the other members conceded, and they’d agreed to get a human pet. Taehyung, excited now that he was going to have a new little pack member to take care of and keep him company, immediately ran to get his laptop so he could research human shelters in Seoul.

Two hundred years ago, humans created hybrids in science labs. Splicing human genes with animals was supposed to create the perfect servant, companion and soldier – with the intelligence and capacity for emotional connection of humans and the superior physical capabilities of other animals, these new creations were supposed to make life better for humans.

What the scientists hadn’t realized, in their hubris, was that it was extraordinarily likely that the hybrids wouldn’t be content merely taking orders and serving the whims of humans, who were, after all, genetically inferior to their artificial perfection. A revolution and reordering of society occurred, and now humans were the pets, bred for the sole purpose of being the best possible companions for their hybrid owners.

You understood this history well enough, thanks to the kindly old hybrid who adopted you as a baby to soothe her empty nest syndrome after her grown-up children moved out and began their own lives, and her husband sadly passed away. She’d given you far more than she was obliged to as an owner, even ensuring that you had a basic education.

It had been a couple of years since she’d unfortunately passed away suddenly from a massive heart attack, landing you in a shelter when none of her family members wanted to take you in. Now that you were ten, you understood that the likelihood of you staying in the shelter for the rest of your childhood grew exponentially each day, as most families wanted babies or toddlers that would be more attached to their adopted families.

Plus, everyone loves babies.

You sighed as you pushed the covers off yourself. You’d finally managed to get a coveted bottom bunk bed after one of the girls in your room was adopted out, and you felt like you should be happier about it.

If only it wasn’t so sad to be happy about getting a bottom bunk in a shelter, after years of waiting your turn. You hoped against all hope that you wouldn’t spend much time in this bunk, that you’d be going home with another family soon, and you promised yourself there and then that if you ever got adopted, you’d do whatever it took to make your new family happy for saving you from this drudgery.

As you made your way to the cafeteria for breakfast, you noticed that there seemed to be a lot more… buzzing than usual. You shrugged it off – you’d been here long enough to know that it just meant a high-profile visit was scheduled for the day, and all of the children were told to dress up and be on their best behavior.

Picking up a tray and lining up for your breakfast, you held in a sigh. Most people are looking for babies and toddlers, and it’s rare that anyone wants to adopt at a shelter. Even when they do, they go for younger children, who are still cute and cuddly.

Well, not that you weren’t cuddly. It was literally in your genetic makeup to crave physical affection because hybrids like to snuggle with their pets, but you’d lost that cute doe-eyed helplessness that hybrid clients like in their pets. With a sigh, you took your tray and sat in a corner to eat, unwilling to listen to the excited chatter of the younger children. You weren’t that hopeful anymore, and it hurt too much after the first few times to get all excited and put in effort, only to not be chosen at the end of the day.

Finishing your breakfast, the same porridge with kimchi and laver that you have every morning, you went back to your room to wait. It’s standard procedure – every child has to remain by their bed in their room when the prospective client arrives and takes a tour to find the child they want to bring home.

With a sigh, you sat on your bed, propping the pillow up against the metal frame of your bunk bed, to continue reading the book you’d begged off from one of the caretakers. Most of the human children couldn’t read, because it wasn’t mandatory to teach them and many of them were rescued off the streets, but the grandmother who owned you before had taught you the basics.

You were still engrossed in the story – a classic from hundreds of years ago about a boy who found out he was a wizard and went to a school called Hogwarts – when Taehyung arrives, flanked by Namjoon on one side and Jimin on the other. The leader had accompanied Taehyung to restrain him and keep him from getting every child in the shelter, and Jimin had just wanted to see cute human children and give his two cents’ worth on the human they eventually adopted.

Because, as he said, he was Taehyung’s best friend so a pet Taehyung adopted would naturally be his business. The others didn’t quite buy it, but Taehyung seemed okay with him tagging along, so he cleared his schedule and came.

The matronly caretaker at the shelter, a middle-aged dog hybrid, came out to greet them excitedly when they arrived, gushing about all the cute children they had in the shelter, and how she hoped they would find their perfect match today.

They nodded and listened politely as she ushered them into her office, where she went over the ground rules for today. No pictures, no yelling, disturbing the children, et cetera. If there was a child they were interested in, they had to ask for permission before they were allowed to approach the child, and at all times children’s safety was paramount – if they indicated that they were uncomfortable, they could be removed from the situation without any repercussions. It was all aimed at ensuring that the humans were prioritized and felt safe in their home, and this was why Taehyung had chosen to support this shelter.

Namjoon, ever the responsible one, and Taehyung, who was dedicated to becoming a good pet owner, listened carefully as the hybrid caretaker explained what the challenges were in taking care of a human child, especially one that had lived in the shelter. Older children would be harder to train, she said, less malleable, and depending on what their circumstances had been before coming to live in the shelter, may have trauma or other psychological scars.

Jimin impatiently bounced around, aware that this was important stuff, but just excited to see some cute children and hopefully take one home today. When they finally stood up to leave the office and go to the dorm rooms where the children were waiting, Jimin could hardly keep the wide grin splitting his face under control, and Taehyung was similarly excited, the muscles under his shirt periodically tensing up as he resisted the urge to bounce along behind the caretaker. She was hardly likely to be impressed with him if he couldn’t demonstrate that he was a mature adult able to take care of a human child.

Because Taehyung had made it clear that he wanted an older, more self-sufficient human pet, the caretaker skipped the first two rooms, where the young children were, and the nursery, heading straight to your room. You were still reading your book, and she tutted as she saw you sitting there.

“Y/N, sweetie, would you like to come say hello to these nice hybrids?” she asked patiently, and you looked up from your story, surprised to see that there were indeed three men clustered behind her. Most hybrids decided on the child they wanted to bring home after seeing the younger children, so it was uncommon for you to see visitors.

You were tempted to reject the offer, but remembered your earlier promise to yourself, and smiled graciously, putting your bookmark back in and leaving your book on the bed. “Yes, ma’am,” you said sweetly, standing up and brushing imaginary lint off your skirt. “Good morning, sirs. My name is Y/N. I’m ten years old, and I’m very pleased to meet you,” you recited dutifully, remembering the spiel they taught all the children to say to visitors.

“It’s very nice to meet you, Y/N-ah,” the tall wolf hybrid said, kneeling down so he could look you in the eye. His ears twitched slightly as he looked up at you slightly, and you smiled back. He had such a friendly demeanor that you couldn’t help but feel comfortable around him immediately. “My name is Taehyung, and these are my friends Jimin and Namjoon,” he said, pointing at the other two hybrids. You weren’t certain what kind they were, although you deduced that Namjoon was some kind of canine hybrid and Jimin, based on the cute rounded ears on top of his head, was a large cat.

“It’s a pleasure you meet you all,” you said politely, looking up at them. Your speech was crisp, delicate and refined from years of being the prized companion of a wealthy old lady.

“Likewise,” Namjoon said with a nod, and Jimin said nothing, but smiled so widely that his eyes all but disappeared. You smiled back, liking them already, and hoping that they would choose you to go home with them.

“What are you reading, Y/N-ah?” Taehyung asked, and you took his hand excitedly, bringing him to the bed where you’d left your book. He trailed after you, looking back at the other two members with a wide grin. It was so cute, how you lit up when he expressed interest in what you were reading, and how at ease you seemed to be, even initiating contact with him. You didn’t seem aware of who they were, which he supposed was to be expected, since he didn’t think humans really kept up with pop culture, and it wasn’t like you were walking around the streets of Seoul where BTS music was playing all over and their photos were plastered on every available surface in the city.

Sitting down next to you, he listened, his chin in his hand, as you chattered away excitedly about the book. Namjoon and Jimin came to squat on either side of you, and you basked in the undivided attention that you hadn’t had since your previous owner passed away.

“Who taught you how to read, Y/N-ah?” Namjoon asked when you wound down, his ears sticking out of the black hair on his head flicking slightly.

“My previous owner,” you replied.

“She seems nice,” Jimin said carefully, and young as you were, you picked up the unspoken question.

“She was,” was all you said, a little quietly and sadly. You missed her, the woman who’d asked you to call her ‘mom’ and really had acted like a mother to you.

At least, you think so – you were bred by a breeder to be a pet, and you didn’t remember your own mother, having been too young when you were separated from her.

After talking for a little while more, they excused themselves and you smiled as graciously as you knew how, returning to your book as they left the room to go back to the office to discuss things further.

“Hyung, she’s so precious,” Taehyung fairly sang, spinning around in circles with his arms spread out wide.

Namjoon was more reserved, but he agreed internally. She wasn’t rambunctious in the way that Yeontan was, but adorable all the same, in the way she’d lit up while talking about her book and how easily she’d accepted their touch, clearly happy to have the physical affection.

Jimin, way more exuberant than Namjoon, grabbed Taehyung’s hands and bounced around with him. “We’re getting a human!” he cried out in excitement as they jumped like children up and down.

The wild dog hybrid just shook his head at his two younger bandmates, before leading the way into the caretaker’s office to settle the adoption paperwork.

You returned home with them that day, to your surprise and pleasure. You hadn’t allowed yourself to hope until the caretaker came back to let you know to pack your meagre possessions, and sends you off with them. Taehyung gives you a hug when you walk out of the building with your bag to join them, and straps you safely into his car before they take off, back to his apartment.

As you were travelling there, they chattered away, filling you in on what their home will be like. You found out that they were part of a boyband that live together, and you would be moving in with all seven of them. Apart from the three hybrids in the car with you – Taehyung, who bought you, the wolf hybrid; Namjoon, the serious-looking African wild dog; and Jimin, the adorable-looking black footed cat who was sitting in the back with you – there were another four. They were all predator hybrids, something Taehyung noted with some pride, beaming at your reflection in the rearview mirror.

You smiled back uncertainly at him, apprehensive about how different the new arrangement was from your previous one but still certain that no matter what, it would still be better than living at the shelter. It hadn’t been awful – it wasn’t like you’d been abused or anything while you were there – but with how stretched thin the resources at the shelter were, it had been impossible for you to get the care and attention that you required to be emotionally and mentally healthy after all this time.

Carrying yourself as stiffly as you could, in order to leave the best first impression possible, you hugged your bag tightly to your chest and stood ramrod straight in the elevator, resisting the urge to look around curiously. Your previous owner had been wealthy, but she hadn’t been this wealthy, and you’d never been in a lift that was so opulent before.

Taehyung tugged the bag out of your arms insistently, and you relinquished it after a brief struggle for control over it. You didn’t want to put him out, feeling that he’s already done enough, adopting you and giving you what looked like it would be an amazing home, but he was stronger than you and you were also concerned that he would think you were too stubborn or headstrong if you continued fighting him, so you let it go.

When they ushered you into your new home, though, your jaw dropped and you couldn’t hold back your reaction that time. The apartment was so nice and spacious, worlds away from the shared room you’d lived in at the shelter. Taehyung laughed at your expression and whisked you off to his bedroom, which was now a shared bedroom for the two of you, showing you where everything you would need was. After getting you settled in, he led you back out by the hand to the living room, where the other boys were gathered, eagerly waiting to meet you.

And that’s how you became part of the BTS family.

Your new home was very different from the one you had spent your early childhood in. Living with seven young and energetic hybrid men meant you suddenly had companions and playmates to indulge your more rambunctious impulses, whereas before you’d always had to be calm and docile, since there was no way your previous owner would have been able to keep up with a screaming and running child on the playground. It wasn’t like it had been bad – you were naturally a quieter child, but all children need space to run and play, to expend their excess energy, and as hard as she’d tried, she hadn’t been able to offer you that.

On the other hand, you played so much with your new family that you were completely exhausted every night, and Taehyung had to prod you to get ready for bed properly, instead of just collapsing in whatever you were wearing. He didn’t mind, though, pleased that you were having so much fun every day. Besides, having you around to dote on made all of them happy, especially Taehyung, who missed his young cousins and was still slightly bitter about how much of his siblings’ and cousins’ childhoods he hadn’t been around for, and later, his nieces and nephews.

And so you spent your adolescence in their company, making a home for yourself. It wasn’t just BTS that seemed to have adopted you – Big Hit as a whole did. The stylist noonas were utterly thrilled to finally have a little girl around on the regular, and treated you alternately like a little sister and a doll, dressing you up in all the cute girlish trends they privately sighed over but couldn’t experiment with.

Another benefit of having a human as a pet was that it was far easier to transport a person – humans were allowed on planes and buses, so you could travel with the boys. Your calming presence helped soothe frayed nerves and mediated fights, and ARMY loved watching the tender interactions between the boys, who were all predator hybrids, and the wide-eyed human child, claiming that it showed how nurturing the boys were despite their natural inclination, and how they would be good fathers someday. You even had your own little fanclub, like Yeontan had before you.

Speaking of Yeontan – the little dog had gone to live with Taehyung’s parents, so you didn’t get to see each other that often, but when you did, the two of you got along like a house on fire. Taehyung had to keep an eye on you at mealtimes to make sure most of the food on your plate wasn’t finding its way down to Yeontan, who lay casually across your feet at the dining table, while the dog was so excited to see you that he basically ignored Taehyung whenever the both of you arrived together.

The vlive of you and Yeontan taking a nap on the couch after Chuseok dinner with his family, curled up together as you whined about your tummy hurting while Taehyung, behind the camera, laughed as he teased you about being such a glutton but then went to rub your aching belly, became the most watched vlive ever, spawning a million GIFs.

It also became common for you to be somewhere in the background of Namjoon’s vlives, reading a book on his couch, while he chatted with fans. After many requests for you to appear on Eat Jin, you did eventually do an episode with him, although he spent the whole time comparing the food to meals he’d cooked for you in the past.

One might think that growing up the lone female around seven men might be awkward at times, especially with you going through adolescence and getting your period and all that, but they made it normal. Hybrids were far more open about normal bodily functions than human societies had been, and it would have been stranger for them to get squeamish about their pet’s bodily functions. There was no hiding from them when you got your period or anything like that, but they were so nonchalant about it that you were too, even warning you beforehand when you were going to start because they could smell the changes in your scent.

It was all fine – at least, until the boys went to the military.

All of them enlisted together when you were sixteen, and you went to live with Taehyung’s parents while they were serving. Living in Geochang was a change of pace from Seoul, but it was nice nevertheless. You helped out at his parents’ farm, got to play a lot more with Yeontan and the other animals running around, and had a lot more freedom since his parents were too busy to micromanage you.

During this time, you really grew into your own – enrolling in an online GED course, using the Internet and the enormous resources at your disposal to figure your personal style out, even finding human friends and a boyfriend. Who would have thought that Geochang had such a thriving human community?

Needless to say, by the time the two years had passed and you went back to live with Taehyung, you were a vastly different person, in both temperament and appearance, than you’d been the day he dropped you off.

Still, you’d missed being in Seoul with him, and you were excited to go with his parents to pick him up from the military base. You’d never been to visit him when his family members went, because they’d needed someone to stay home and tend to the crops and take care of the animals, and ever eager to please, you’d volunteered to do it even though you really wanted to see Taehyung too.

This time, though, you had to go, because everyone was going to Seoul to spend the night, and then you would stay with Taehyung. Although you hadn’t seen each other in two years, you’d kept in contact via text messages and video calls whenever he was free, and you knew that he’d decided to move into an apartment in Seoul without the other boys. It was about time – Seokjin was pushing thirty and planning to propose to his longtime girlfriend, and it was a little weird for seven men in their thirties to be living together anyway.

So you packed your things and prepared to move out of Geochang and back to Seoul. It wasn’t difficult – with technology it was easy for you to keep in contact with your friends in Geochang, and you’d broken up with your boyfriend a couple months ago on amicable terms. The most difficult thing for you had been saying goodbye to Tannie, who was getting on in years now and had relied on you more and more each day.

But move out you did, and you bounced in your seat all the way to the military base where Taehyung had been living for the past two years. When you first saw him walk out of the compound, still in his uniform, your excitement got the better of you and you flew towards him, perhaps uncharacteristically for you given how taken aback his parents were, but you didn’t care.

“Taehyung-oppa!” you screamed as you ran. To his credit, he didn’t waste any time processing the missile currently hurtling towards him, and just opened his arms for you to leap into.

“Hello, Y/N,” he laughed as he hugged you close. He’d missed you too, his cute little human, and after so long away from him, you didn’t smell anything like him anymore, something he was determined to change as he started rubbing his cheek on the top of your head. Used to it after living with him for so many years, you just stood still and let him do it.

Fansite photographers and more zealous fans who’d come to see him cooed and sighed at the cute picture you two made. You were still tucked under his arm, clinging to his shirt, as he greeted the people who were gathered, thanking them for coming all this way, and thanking his commanding officers and platoon mates for being there for him for the past few years.

Then it was over, and he was in the van with his family for a more private reunion. You were still clinging to him, not that he minded as he stroked your hair softly as he chatted with his family. He’d seen them when they’d come to visit, or during his breaks – it was just you that hadn’t had the chance to see him since he’d gone away.

During the drive back to Seoul, you tucked your face into his neck and took a nap, tired from all the excitement. While you were asleep, Taehyung asked his mother how you’d been. “Did she give you a lot of trouble?” he asked.

She chuckled. “No, she was an absolute angel. So good with the children and the animals, always eager to help out.”

He smiled. “Yeah? That tracks. The lady at the shelter told me she has an amazing pedigree.”

“It was a real joy having her, Taehyung-ah. You’re lucky to have such a sweet human in your life.”

“I am. I hope she had a good time in Geochang, too.”

Taehyung’s mother laughed at that. “Oh, did she ever!”

His curiosity piqued, his ears perked. “Sounds like you have some good stories to share.”

“The girl had the time of her life these past two years,” his mother snickered. “She had a lot more freedom in Geochang than in Seoul because it’s smaller and safer, so we let her go out on her own a lot more, and she’s really sociable. She even found a boyfriend.”

He raised a brow. “She did? Sounds like she had lots of fun in Geochang, then.”

He wanted to find out more about what you’d been up to, but since they were arriving in Seoul and would be at the restaurant for dinner, he couldn’t, instead waking you up since you always took a little while to be functional.

You untangled yourself from him sleepily and almost fell out of the car as you tried to get out, and it was only his father’s superior hybrid reflexes that saved you from eating asphalt as he caught you and put you back on your feet. Murmuring your thanks, you waited for Taehyung to climb out of the van and lead you into the restaurant by the hand.

Tonight, you were dining at a Korean barbeque restaurant, which was always a winner for the hybrid wolf family. Usually they just ate meat, not even bothering with lettuce wraps, but they were still nice enough to order some vegetables and king oyster mushrooms for you. You were in charge of grilling, of course, not that you minded, and hearing the praise from everyone else at the table made you glow a little every time.

Taehyung was the center of attention that evening, of course, as he regaled his family with tales of his time in the military. He was the first member of BTS to be discharged, although since they’d all enlisted at around the same time, the others were due to be discharged in the coming few months, so unfortunately there weren’t funny stories of his bandmates coming to visit him, but Bang PD had, and so had some stylist noonas.

There were also stories about silly punishments and shenanigans, water parades, being made to hold the wall and shout, “Help, help! The wall is falling,” because he’d been caught leaning against it once, that made everyone crack up and you almost drop the tongs right on the grill.

Eventually, though, he started asking about how everyone had been, which turned, perhaps inevitably, into everyone ganging up on you and trying to tell the most embarrassing story they could think of. You sighed and whined as one by one, they all took turns rehashing your various mishaps to Taehyung – you trying to climb a tree and getting stuck like a cat, your various fashion disasters as you tried to ‘find yourself’ – complete with pictures, of course, and worst of all, your theatrics when your GED certificate came in the mail.

Well, you were really proud of that last one, but did they really have to describe your joyful outburst as helpless histrionics?

Still, though, the way Taehyung squeezed your hand as he told you how proud he was of you made everything better.

Soon enough, dinner was over and all of you piled back into the van to go to Taehyung’s new apartment. It had already been set up by the multitude of assistants that BigHit had, with some input from his parents, so it was basically already liveable. With so many people helping, it wasn’t long before all your things were moved into the apartment too, and then the two of you were left alone, for the first time in two years.

Since you had so much spare room in the apartment, you had your own bedroom, and it was beautifully decorated just how you’d pictured it, with a very pretty queen-sized bed in one corner with a white cushioned headboard and pink-and-grey patterned sheets, a reading nook in front of floor-to-ceiling windows with an overstuffed chair and foot rest, a lamp, and a large bookshelf with a ladder occupying the adjacent wall, and a little coffee table with a scented candle already on it next to the chair. Fluffy rugs were strewn across the room, and a wooden dressing table sat on the opposite side of the room. It was beautiful and comfortable, everything you’d dreamed of, but when you got ready for bed, you found yourself missing Taehyung.

Which led to you in your pajamas, all scrubbed down and ready for bed, knocking plaintively on Taehyung’s bedroom door. He seemed to know that you would be there even before opening the door, which he probably had, with his enhanced senses (and the fact that there was no one else in the apartment).

When he opened the door for you, clad in just his pajama pants, all you had to do was pout up at him and he was standing aside to let you in. Generally, he indulged your every whim, because according to his life philosophy, why have pets if you weren’t going to spoil them rotten? Making a beeline for his bed, you made yourself comfortable by burrowing under his sheets and fluffing up one of his pillows.

Shaking his head at you, Taehyung followed you back to the bed, getting into the other side with an indulgent huff. “You know, I paid a lot of money for your bedroom,” he said drolly. Ignoring his remark, you cuddled close to him and shut your eyes stubbornly, and he capitulated with a sigh, stroking your head as you drifted off to sleep.

Somehow, you smelled different than he remembered. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, and it wasn’t bad by any means, but it was just… different. And he didn’t quite know what to do about it.

For some reason he’d been reluctant to ask his parents, even though they’d been the ones living with you for the past two years, if they’d sensed anything different about you. He’d rationalized it to himself at the point – since they’d been with you every day it was likely that they wouldn’t notice anything different if your scent had changed gradually, and if it had been sudden and enough to cause worry, they would already have let him know about it.

Still, his mind wouldn’t stop racing with the possibilities as he leaned in closer to take a good whiff. He could still smell the base notes of your scent, which had always been somewhat citrusy, but now it was slightly… earthier, with a musky, deeper aroma threaded through it. Was it vanilla? Perhaps cinnamon?

Whatever it was, it was nice, and he shut his eyes to allow himself to drift off after deciding to do research on humans’ scent changes tomorrow. He didn’t think it was anything to worry about – any illness would definitely have a sharper, less pleasant scent – but he didn’t know why your scent would suddenly change again. It had changed gradually once before, as you went through puberty, but based on what he’d read about humans, it shouldn’t change again for many years yet.

No harm finding out more about what could be causing it, he thought as he slipped after you into slumber. Maybe he would take you to a doctor, too, if it became necessary.

Morning dawned, and Taehyung woke up leisurely for the first time in too long, slowly blinking his eyes against the morning sunlight streaming in from the windows. As he slowly became conscious of his surroundings, he became aware that he was the most comfortable he’d ever been, probably in his life, and he nuzzled closer behind your ear.

Wait a minute. A second later, he drew back. He didn’t remember going to sleep with a lover, and he definitely hadn’t had a girlfriend since his last one broke up with him while he was in the army. So who was he currently wrapped around…?

When it dawned on him, he recoiled in horror, and almost crab scuttled away from you. Thankfully, you were still asleep and hadn’t noticed his morning boner pressed against you, because it was beyond inappropriate for him to feel that way about you, his pet.

Unfortunately, his abrupt movements pulled on the duvet that you were sharing, and jostled you awake. He froze, wide-eyed, as you stirred. “Taehyung-oppa?” you said, voice raspy with sleep.

“Shh, I’m just going to pee,” he lied. “Go back to sleep, sweetie, it’s still early.”

You hummed wordlessly as you burrowed back into the covers, and despite his own inner turmoil, he smiled at you as he straightened the duvet over you before he left the bedroom.

He darted into the bathroom, where he sat on the edge of the tub, his head in his hands. God, what the hell was wrong with him? You weren’t a hybrid, and he didn’t understand how this could have happened. In that moment before he’d woken up fully and realized what was happening, his instinct had been to treat you like a… lover. He shuddered at the thought.

Okay, he thought, getting up. He was going to take a shower, rub one out, and then pretend like everything was fine. This was an aberration, just a weird fluke. You were warm and in his bed, and it had been a really long time since he had any action, since military service tended to inhibit such activities.

He just needed to get laid, and get used to your new scent, and then everything would be fine. No one would need to know about this embarrassing little slip-up.

With renewed determination, he started stripping off his clothes to get into the shower. All soaped up, he started sliding a hand down his body to grasp his erection firmly, which had never really gone away. Biting his lip, he started stroking it slowly, running his thumb over the head on the upstroke. His mind, however, remained unfocused, flitting between various memories and porn he’d watched, never able to focus on anything long enough to immerse himself.

That is, until his enhanced wolf hearing picked up the rustling sounds in the bedroom. He could hear, even over the sound of the shower, so clearly what you were doing that his mind had no problem filling in the blanks. The rustle of the sheets meant you were pushing the covers back; the soft thud on the ground meant you’d sat up and put your feet down. Then you stretched, and he definitely had no problem imagining it – or an overly erotic version of what actually transpired. Your soft moan of satisfaction as you cracked your spine sent a shiver running through him.

After that, it was basically a race to the finish line, as he fisted himself as hard as he could, leaning forward to brace his free hand against the wall in front of him. Usually it took a little longer, and he would play with his balls more, but it wasn’t going to be necessary this time, he could feel it. Remembering how good you’d smelled this morning was enough to push him over the edge, and he muffled his groan in his shoulder as he came all over the wall of his shower, the hand on the wall curling into a fist.

“Fuck,” he panted as he washed the cum off himself and the wall. Needless to say, he didn’t feel any cleaner after that shower.

When he came out of the shower, you were already getting breakfast ready. Another perk of having a team of assistants dedicated to making your life easier – the fridge came fully stocked. You’d washed up and pulled a sweatshirt on over the cami and pajama pants, and he couldn’t help but smile when he saw that it was a BTS merchandise from several years ago.

“Good morning,” you chirped, flipping the bacon. “I didn’t know what you wanted for breakfast, but I remember how much you love bacon, so I figured this would be safe.”

He leaned his elbows on the island and watched you warily from a distance. “Are you sure you should be cooking?”

“I got better,” you shot back defensively. “You shouldn’t have let me take cooking lessons from Namjoon-oppa in the first place.”

“No, I really shouldn’t have,” he agreed absently. You really had improved in your cooking, he thought, watching how easily you moved around the kitchen. It wasn’t long before a giant helping of bacon was sitting in front of him, with a more modest, human-sized portion on your plate, and some toast.

“You really should have let me make you breakfast,” he sighed, even as he started to tuck in. “I miss spoiling you.”

You shot him a cheeky grin. “Not to worry, you spoiled me plenty while you were in the military,” you sassed him.

He huffed out a laugh. “I know, I saw the credit card statements.”

Giggling, you eat another bite of your breakfast and smile at him with your cheeks stuffed, and his heart clenches with fondness. How could someone so plainly adorable drive him so crazy this morning? It must have been a fluke; his instincts misfiring. He just needed to get laid, and then everything would be fine.

Update: everything was not fine.

Things got progressively worse over the next couple of weeks, until Taehyung was honestly filled with dread every night when you came into his room and slid under the sheets on the side of the bed you’d claimed as yours.

It was getting to the point that all you had to do was sidle up to him for some cuddles and he would start getting sidetracked from having your scent invading his personal space. And yet it wasn’t like he could ask you to dial it back – it was in your nature to be physically affectionate and needy; it was literally what you’d been bred for. What could he possibly say, anyway? “Sorry, but can you stop touching me, it turns me on”? You’d be horrified, and rightly so. You trusted him, he could see it every time you smiled up at him like the sun, looked at him with complete adoration in your eyes, came to sit on his lap for cuddles. His reaction was a complete betrayal of that trust.

There was definitely something wrong with him. It was sick for a hybrid to be thinking about his human pet in this way. Maybe he should be the one to see a doctor, but he’d probably be arrested.

Maybe that wouldn’t be such a bad thing, if it guaranteed your safety from him.

Amidst all the angst and worrying about whether he was a danger to his own pet human, there were some bright moments. All of his brothers were discharged from the military, and after Jungkook, the last to be discharged, was released, they’d all gone for a massive reunion/celebration. You’d wanted to join, but he’d said no, knowing that there would definitely be plenty of alcohol that night, which meant that firstly, he wouldn’t be in any position to look after you and/or resist your charms, and secondly, your underage self was definitely not going to see how depraved your precious oppas were going to get.

The night started off well enough, with a nice dinner at an exclusive new restaurant in Seoul. The wine flowed freely, and by the time they were done, everyone was more than a little tipsy. They then moved to a club – again, exclusive and new – where they were automatically ushered to the mezzanine. A bottle of whisky was brought to their table, but soon enough, several of them had left to hit the dance floor – Jungkook, that brat, was of course looking for someone to spend the night with, and Hoseok and Jimin just wanted to tear up the dance floor.

“How have you been spending your time off?” Namjoon asked. Taehyung had been a little off all night, quieter than usual and when he thought no one was watching, he had a little frown perpetually affixed to his face.

Taehyung forced a nonchalant shrug – or at least, what he hoped passed for nonchalance. “Just hanging around,” he said vaguely, hoping to fend off any more probing into his life. “What about you?”

Namjoon looked amused. “Tae, I was discharged three days ago. I spent it sleeping and fixing up my apartment.”

“Right, right,” he said, staring studiously into his glass of whisky as if the amber-coloured liquid could tell him the secrets of life.

“How’s Y/N?” Yoongi piped up. Of course, he would be the one to bring you up first. For all his bitching and moaning when Taehyung adopted you, he quickly grew the most attached, and the feeling was mutual. He was your very favourite oppa after Taehyung, and sometimes – like when Taehyung has no choice but to discipline you – he was pretty sure Yoongi was your favourite.

“She’s fine,” Taehyung said, aiming for the innocent enthusiasm he used to have when talking about you, but from the way Namjoon’s eyebrow went up, he knew he’d failed.

“Is everything okay?” Namjoon asked slowly.

Taehyung gulped. The jig was up. Curse his inability to hide his feelings. Well, no matter. If pretending like everything was okay at home wasn’t going to work, there was always good old avoidance.

“Yes, everything’s fine!” he exclaimed a little manically, knocking back the rest of his drink in one gulp. “I’m going to hit the dance floor,” he said, making his escape quickly.

The others, a little surprised, didn’t react, letting him leave, although they exchanged suspicious glances. Something was up with Taehyung; he’d made that obvious enough.

Stepping onto the dance floor, he saw Jungkook in one corner getting hot and heavy against a wall with his chosen companion for the night, and he sighed enviously. He wished he could still do that. It wasn’t that they were afraid someone would go to the press – this club really was exclusive, and only celebrities and the ultra-wealthy (read: chaebol relatives) could even enter the club, so discretion would be guaranteed by both parties.

Instead, it seemed that as his attraction for you grew, his ability to find other, more suitable hybrid women attractive… diminished. Which was another pretty significant part of the problem that he didn’t even know how to address. He’d tried hooking up with hybrids over the past couple of weeks, but none of them ever smelled right. There was always something that felt a little bit off that prevented him from taking things further with them, no matter how much he might want to.

He was going crazy, he was sure of it. How could his sexual attraction be focused completely on one human woman? There was no way that this was okay.

He just had to hide it from others. He didn’t know what he was going to do about it yet, and it wasn’t like he didn’t trust his brothers, but this was a little different, and as much as he wouldn’t blame them, he couldn’t imagine the judging or pitying looks they would direct at him if he told them what was going on with his life.

No, better to keep it to himself for the time being.

His resolve seemed, unfortunately, alcohol-soluble. When the night ended, Taehyung returned to his apartment, saw that his bed was empty and immediately turned around to go to your room, where you’d settled in for the night since you weren’t sure what time he would come back, if he came back at all – hey, you weren’t one to judge. Spotting the human-shaped lump under the covers of your bed in the darkness, he stumbled over to the bed and lifted the covers to slide in.

It was then that Taehyung discovered that those cute camis and pajama pants that shouldn’t drive him crazy but did were you dressing more modestly than usual for bed, out of consideration for him. Because tonight, you weren’t wearing pants.

His brain seemed to short-circuit as he stared at your panty-clad ass, but he must have lifted the covers for too long because the cold started to make you stir as you turned over, patting the area around you looking for the blanket. Not finding anything to grab on to, your eyes opened slowly, and you squinted up at Taehyung.

“Oppa?” you croaked. “You’re back.” Clearing your throat, you reached for your phone on the bedside table. “What time is it?”

He groaned as he watched the way your body stretched out as you turned away from him. “You smell so good,” he whined, flopping down on the other side of the bed, and squirming close to you.

You allowed him to press himself against you, knowing that he was a needy drunk. This wasn’t exactly new for you – Taehyung didn’t get drunk as often as his other members did, but he still did occasionally, and you’d been with him for so many years now that you had a routine by now.

“Oppa… are you still dressed?” you whined as your bare skin came into contact with his jeans. You hissed in displeasure as the cold metal on his belt buckle pressed against your thigh.

“…No,” he said unconvincingly after a moment.

You squirmed out of his grasp, and he let out a forlorn whine that reminded you of his animal half. “Come on, you should get changed at least, you won’t sleep well in your clothes. I’ll go get your pajamas, okay?”

“Nooo,” he made grabby hands at you. “Don’t leave.” He pulled you back into his embrace, pressing his face into your throat. “You smell so good,” he slurred, rubbing his face against you.

You giggled at the ticklish sensation, resisting the urge to push him away. “At least take your pants off, okay?” you negotiated. “I have some water here, you should have some before you go to sleep…” Your voice trailed off as you reached for the bottle you always kept on your bedside table, and his head fell to the pillow with a soft thump as you pulled away. His eyesight was far better than yours, and he took the opportunity to stare at you while you weren’t able to notice it.

While he drank, you wriggled yourself back into the bed, blinking sleepily in the dark as you listened to the rhythmic sound of him gulping down the water. When he’d had enough, he started to lay down, and you quickly intervened. “No, you can’t sleep in your clothes!”

He laughed in response. “You’re very eager to take my pants off, love,” he teased.

Your whole body flushed with heat and you drew back, sulking. “Fine, sleep in your clothes, then. Just don’t complain in the morning,” you snapped, turning over to go to sleep.

Instead of doing the same, Taehyung scooched closer and threw an arm around you. “Don’t be like that, baby,” he purred. “I was just teasing. I’ll take off whatever you want me to,” he promised.

Hearing him speak to you in that tone, though, had you all kinds of worked up. It wasn’t unusual for him to call you baby – he’d always used that pet name on you, and Yeontan and all his other pets as well. It was just the way he’d said it… it reminded you of the way your ex back in Geochang used to talk to you when he was horny. And you found, to your shame, that you’d reacted to it with a small shiver.

That couldn’t be right, though. Humans and hybrids weren’t compatible in that way. You’d just been reminded of Jong-in in that moment – even though you’d broken up, it had been amicable, and you’d always enjoyed physical intimacy with him; it was a natural reaction.

While you were busy rationalizing it to yourself, though, the scent of your arousal hit Taehyung and he pressed himself closer with a groan. “Why do you smell so amazing, Y/N-ie?” he asked, pushing his nose insistently into the crook behind your ear. Unfortunately, his belt buckle pressed into the strip of skin on your lower back exposed by the way your camisole rode up.

“Agh,” you cried out in displeasure, squirming away from him. “It’s cold!”

“What? What’s cold, baby?”

“Your belt,” you heaved out, and his hands immediately went to it.

“Okay, it’s going,” Taehyung responded placatingly, undoing it and throwing it onto the ground beside the bed. Now that he’d gotten started, his pants were quick to follow, being scrunched into the corner of the bed under the covers where he’d kicked them, and his button-down shirt. Finally, clad in just his boxers and undershirt, he relaxed into the mattress, and you cuddled close, satisfied now.

“Good night, oppa,” you murmured as you slotted yourself into your usual spot in his side, your eyes drifting shut as you clutched his shirt in your fist.

He mumbled something indistinct in response, but you could feel his hand resting on your back, and you went to sleep peacefully.

(line break)

Taehyung woke up in a bed that wasn’t his own, half-dressed, and was confused for a moment, wracking his brain for memories of last night. Had he finally managed to get some?

Rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand, he propped himself up on his elbow and peered around, realizing that it was your room. So he hadn’t broken his dry spell, then. Damn.

Pushing the covers away, he meandered out of your bedroom to the kitchen, where you were already working on some hangover breakfast for him. “Good morning,” you chirped, turning away from the stove to point at the glass of water and hybrid painkillers you’d laid out for him. “In case you feel bad,” you explained.

He sat down and downed the water, ignoring the painkillers – he didn’t feel that bad – as he took you in. You’d put some pants on, and a cardigan over the camisole you’d worn to bed, and tied your hair back in a messy ponytail. As a hybrid, he naturally ran warmer than you, so during winters you made sure to pile the layers on to remain warm.

This line of thinking triggered a memory of you squealing in protest at the cold metal of his belt buckle touching your skin last night, and he paled as he remembered how inappropriately he’d acted with you. He watched you carefully, but you seemed the same as always, and he wasn’t sure if he should just pretend it never happened or apologize for it.

When you deemed the yukgaejang ready and took it off the stove to serve together with two bowls of freshly cooked rice, his guilt at how boorishly he’d treated you last night overwhelmed him and he blurted, “About last night – ”

You looked up from the drawer where you were picking the utensils out. “Yeah?”

“Um… about what I said…” he trailed off awkwardly.

“Oh, you mean the scent thing? Don’t worry, I get it,” you laughed it off, waving a hand in the air dismissively. “It’s because of the pack bond, right?”

“The what?” Completely confused, he just stared at you as you poured some soup into your rice.

“The pack bond? I read about it, that some hybrids can form pack bonds with the people around them. Like you did with the other members, or your pets, I guess,” you said, shrugging.

Instead of responding immediately, Taehyung chose to shovel a huge mouthful of stew and rice into his mouth to give him more time to think about how to respond. You’d given him the perfect cop-out for any overly affectionate behavior he might display. He was sure you didn’t know enough about hybrid pack behaviours to actually call him out on his lies.

“Y- yeah, that’s it,” he said, the visible relief on his face making you smile at him cheerily, your triumph at guessing correctly written all over your face.

As you both went back to eating, you felt something that had tensed up inside you last night unclench. It was just the pack bond. You could stop thinking about it, and you wouldn’t misinterpret anything anymore.

Returning to the studio to work on their comeback was a relief for Taehyung. For one thing, it meant that he would be spending most of his time away from you and your maddening scent. For another, he’d worried (perhaps needlessly, given the outpouring of support and congratulations on their social media when they were each discharged) that they wouldn’t be relevant anymore and he would be out of a job.

He’d also really missed his brothers, and was excited to work with them again.

However, what he hadn’t anticipated was that they’d missed you just as much as him, and you felt the same way. Every evening when he came home you were there, waiting for fun stories about the other members, and they pestered him incessantly for updates about you or, better yet, pictures or videos, or best of all, bringing you to the studio.

Since you basically begged for the same thing, he’d pretty much had no choice.

You chattered on excitedly from the front seat of his car as he drove to the studio. It was unbearably early, but that didn’t seem to deter you. Most mornings you were the one who woke him up anyway, since you were by far the most patient out of the members and producers. Even without you being there most days, the members knew that any time Taehyung showed up for practice on time and awake it was because of your efforts.

You fairly skipped from the carpark all the way to the studio where the boys were supposed to be working today, dragging Taehyung along in your wake. You knew the building like the back of your hand by now, having spent much of the time you’d been with Taehyung here. Even the boys from TXT knew you, and often kept snacks and things in their studios for you when you dropped by.

Reaching the corridor where the studio was located, you ran down it and burst into the studio, a ball of almost frenzied energy. “Hi!” you cried exuberantly, causing the current occupants of the room to look up at you. Almost all the members were there, sans Yoongi and, of course, Taehyung, who was following you at a more sedate pace, and they grinned at you.

“Y/N!” Jungkook leapt up from his seat and rushed over to you, and as you hugged him he picked you clean off the floor to swing you around, giggling. The tiger hybrid’s ears flicked excitedly as he took you in. “Don’t you look pretty today?” he cooed, rubbing his cheek over the top of your head. You stood still to let him, used to all the members attempting to scent you since it was basically an affectionate gesture.

“Thank you, Kookie-oppa,” you said politely, smiling up at him.

“You’re such a polite girl,” Seokjin complimented you, pulling a Tupperware of your favourite spicy baby octopus out of his bag. When Taehyung had texted them last night that you would be coming today, he’d immediately gotten to work preparing some of your favourite snacks.

“Ooh, thank you, Seokjin-oppa!” you sang as you stood to take it from him – with both hands, of course, and accompanied by a deep bow.

“Don’t you mean Seokjin-samchoon?” Jungkook ribbed, causing the hyena hybrid to snarl at him.

By the time Taehyung entered the room, you were sandwiched between Namjoon and Jimin, happily sharing your food with them, while Jungkook and Seokjin were playfighting, Hoseok egging both of them on. He sighed as he headed to the last empty couch and dropped down on it heavily, used to the chaos of his members.

“Where’s Suga-hyung?” Taehyung asked, looking around.

You shrugged. “Probably still in bed,” you responded to the amusement of everyone in the room.

Unfortunately for you, the man in question walked through the doors just in time to hear your remark, and he scowled. “For your information,” he bit out acerbically, “I was in my studio. I’m not Jimin,” he said, rolling his eyes, even as he bent down in front of you and opened his mouth for the proffered mouthful of food you were holding in your chopsticks for him.

“Hey!” Jimin protested. “I thought we were past that.”

“Never,” Taehyung promised, and you giggled. To ease the sting of his members teasing him, Jimin aggressively scented you, and you leaned into him to facilitate it.

Taehyung, observing your interaction with the other hybrid, tried not to show his irritation on his face, mostly because he knew it was ridiculous to feel that way. When you’d first come to live with them, the others had been cautious about getting their scents on you, just in case it was something that bothered him, but he’d made sure to assure them that he didn’t mind. After all, all of them were pack. It made sense for them to smell like each other, and it had even comforted him sometimes when you came to him drenched in the scents of his members.

Now that your scent was different, though, he didn’t like it as much when the other members rubbed up against you. It was a shameful, terrible feeling to be possessive over you like that, and he noted somewhat wryly that he could add it to the list. He really hadn’t been a paragon of virtue when it came to you recently.

When the boys started working, you pulled out the book you were currently reading and settled in. By now, you knew how to entertain yourself when at the studio, and tuned them out for the most part. As a result, you didn’t notice the way Taehyung’s attention would drift over to you instead of his members, but Namjoon did.

The older man raised his brow as Taehyung stared at you, sitting on a couch in the corner of the studio, instead of listening to the melody that Yoongi had just been working on. This was uncharacteristic of Taehyung, to say the least, and though as a leader he was somewhat annoyed at Taehyung’s inattention, he was also worried, remembering how strangely the wolf hybrid had acted the other night. He was still watching Taehyung out of his peripheral vision when he saw Taehyung catch himself staring, shake his head and frown.

He followed Taehyung’s gaze to you, wondering what it was that had captured Taehyung’s attention. You seemed unaware of it, turning the page on your book and continuing to read with a soft, relaxed expression, eagerly devouring the page. He couldn’t detect any differences, either – aside from the fact that you’d grown a little and carried yourself differently, you were much the same as you were when they’d left for the army.

Still, there must be some explanation for Taehyung’s sudden change in behavior, and he ran his eyes over your face more closely, watching for any hints.

Unfortunately, Taehyung, looking up from his notes, saw Namjoon staring at you, and before he could stop it, he growled at the wild dog hybrid. A second later, he realized what he’d just done, and shame flooded him. He got up so suddenly that the chair he was sitting in rolled away, bumping against the studio board, and fled the room.

Immediately, you put your book down and got up, ready to follow him to ask what had gotten him so upset, but Namjoon stopped you. “I’ll go talk to him,” he assured you, and looking up at the serious set of his jaw, you nodded, knowing that Taehyung was in good hands.

Namjoon found Taehyung in the restroom, bracing himself against the sinks with his head bowed. Hearing the door open and able to identify his leader by his scent, Taehyung’s hands tightened.

“You doing okay?” Namjoon asked mildly, leaning against the restroom door.

“Go away,” Taehyung grumped without moving.

“Tae, I’m worried about you. You’ve been acting weird since we came back from the military. Tell me what’s going on, please?”

“Nothing’s going on, everything’s fine,” Taehyung denied, his voice becoming increasingly whiny.

“Tae, come on. We’re brothers, you can tell me what’s up.” Namjoon went over to the wolf hybrid and rested his hand on his shoulder.

Resolutely, Taehyung stayed silent.

Left with no other recourse, Namjoon started guessing. “Is it because your heat is coming soon?”

Taehyung’s head shot up, and he stared at Namjoon in the mirror. “My what?”

Namjoon quirked his brow at the younger man. “Your heat?” he prompted. “The one you’ve had once a year for about ten years now?”

Taehyung paled. With all that had been going on with you, he’d totally forgotten about it. Fuck. He was not going to get through this heat alive.

#kim taehyung #taehyung x reader #bts #bts fic #bts hybrid au #hybrid bts #taehyung smut #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #park jimin #jeon jungkook #bts future au

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spencers-dria · 4 years ago

Text

Turn for the Better

Someone To Stay Ch. 1

Spencer x fem!reader

Spencer POV:

I open my eyes and glance around the room. It's darker than I remember. I must have fallen asleep reading on the couch again. I glance down and see a pile of books on the rug. Oh yeah...I only made it through about four books this time before I nodded off. I sigh in frustration that I'm awake. Might as well get up I suppose.

I wander into the kitchen and pull open the fridge only to be met with a jar of peanut butter, week old left overs, and a half empty jug of juice. Next.

I try again with the pantry. Almost completely bare. I guess this is what happens when you stop going to the grocery store. I settle on a cup of apple juice and a bag of chips... better than nothing right?

I slump back down onto the couch and pull my green wool blanket over me. As I stare up at my ceiling, as I begin to let my mind wander. But this was dangerous territory. I have to keep my mind occupied, I just have to. So I quickly sit back up and turn the TV to one of my favorite Dr. Who episodes. They say that anxious people re-watch the same shows because they find the familiarity comforting. I could definitely understand the feeling.

It was the weekend, which meant I wasn't called into work. Cases had been slow lately, as we spent quite a bit of time doing paperwork back at the office. Unfortunately for me, this meant less distractions. Distractions were good. Distractions were necessary. They are the only way I make it through the days anymore.

Things had finally returned to normal for me back at work. I was going into the field, and it felt like my coworkers were no longer tiptoeing around me. I hate when they do that, and it bothers me more than any amount of teasing ever could. I'm not so delicate, so easily breakable. Look at everything I have been through, everything I have endured. Yet here I am, still alive, still doing my job. I didn't need to be babied. So it was a relief when I felt the regular rapport I shared with my friends return. They had gone back to the sarcastic remarks and silly nicknames. I was grateful for it. They did, however, continue to check up on me. This was something that I did appreciate. They've seen me go down a dark road once before. I have no intentions of ever returning. I was stronger than that... I think. All I know is I have held on this long without resorting to any unhealthy coping mechanisms.

Coping mechanisms...oh how I wish I had something to make the healing process easier. Having a fairly empty social calendar left me alone often. Normally I would find comfort in the peace and quiet of my solitary apartment, but not quite so much lately. I couldn't very well make plans to go out, and I wouldn't even know how to begin to do that. Who would want to hang out with me right now anyways? I'd be a damper on the fun, and everyone knows it. That's probably why my friends stopped inviting me to the nights at the bar.

There I go again, letting my mind slip into a dark hole of anxiety. Its not a safe place to be. I quickly turn my attention back to the show in front of me, letting it drown out all other thoughts.

The ring of my phone quickly draws my attention away. Finally...another case! I jump up to answer, seeing the name on my screen: Derek Morgan. That's odd. Usually Hotch or Garcia call to notify us of a new case.

"Hello?" I answer, confusion lacing my voice.

"Pretty Boy! Buzz me up!"

Well now I'm even more confused. Derek never comes to my apartment. I quickly press the button letting him into the building and opening my apartment door, waiting for him to arrive.

As he comes up the stairs, he gives me a grin shouting, "Come on man! Get dressed. We're goin' out!"

I roll my eyes and retreat back into the apartment, Derek close behind me.

I sink back onto the couch, my eyes glued to the television as I tune him out.

"Aw c'mon. Don't be like that. How long have you been sitting there watching TV? Have you done anything else today, at all?"

I don't answer, I don't even look at him.

"Oh, let me guess. You've been reading all day, huh?"

"Wow, can't get anything past you huh?" I say dryly, regretting my tone as soon as the words left my mouth.

"Alright that it. You've been cooped up in here too long. Like I said before, we're going out. And I'm not taking no for an answer" he says sternly, raising an eyebrow at me.

I finally look up at him as I roll my eyes.

"You know I can kick your ass right?" Derek smirks.

"Fine" I concede. "Well...where are we going? I don't know what to wear unless you tell me what our plans are."

"Don't pretend you don't wear the same fancy button ups no matter where you end up going."

I let out a small laugh...he's got me there.

"Dinner at Rossi's. I know pretty boys are high maintenance but, hurry up or you'll make us late!" I smile at the nickname. Same old Derek.

Y/N POV:

You let out a sigh of relief as you watched your coworker approach you, ready to receive report. It had been a particularly busy shift, and you were ready to get some much-needed rest. You walked to each patient room, giving Clementine summary of the day and the latest updates on labs and vital signs. You stepped into each room with her, checking one last time to make sure each of your patients was doing well and didn't need anything else before you left. Normally you and Clem would spend some time catching up and making jokes, but she could tell you were tired and needed to be home more than anything. You wished her good luck on her shift as you made your way to the break room. After putting away your stethoscope and the large collection of pens, pencils, and markers you kept in your pockets, you finally headed towards the elevator to leave for the day.

You opened the door to your apartment to be greeted by your dog, Juneau. She was a rescue you adopted a few months back. She still needed to make progress, but she had really warmed up to you and your friends and seemed much more comfortable in her new home. After feeding her dinner and taking her for a short walk, you heated up a quick frozen dinner and sunk into your couch. Curling up in your blanket, you spent a few minutes browsing through different streaming services only to land on The Office, as usual. Your mind drifts to what your next few days might consist off. You just so happened to land 4 days off in a row, but you had no idea how you would spend your time. You glanced down at your phone as it lit up. It was your Uncle Will.

"Hey, whats up!" you chimed, glad to hear from your favorite uncle.

"Hey, (Y/N). I'm actually calling to invite you to a dinner some friends of mine are having tomorrow night. I know your schedule is real busy. But I haven't seen you much since you moved up here to Virginia! I know you haven't met many people here yet, but I think I can help you make a start. "

The kind gesture made you smile. You had always been fairly close with your father's side of the family. He had grown up in Louisiana and met your mother at a college in Texas. You spent your childhood in Houston but frequently visited the Cajun half of your family. Uncle Will had moved away once he fell in love with Jenifer Jareau, his now wife, and you hadn't seem much of him the past few years. But as luck would have it, your nursing career had lead you to a hospital in Fredericksburg, VA. You felt extremely lucky to have family nearby, or else you would have been completely alone. But sometimes you still felt that way, which is why you were so grateful for his offer.

"That actually sounds great! I am off for the next four days, and I didn't really have anything planned. Who will I be meeting at this dinner?"

"Well it's some of JJ's coworkers. They're like a second family to us, and I know they'll be just as welcoming to you. I already told them you moved up here, and they've been begging to meet you."

"Aww I can't wait to see Aunt JJ and my sweet little cousin, Henry! Its been so long since I came to visit you guys. I think Henry was barely two years old the last time I saw him."

"Well we all hope to see you a lot more now that you're here. You're like a daughter to us, Y/N. You are welcome to visit any time you like. I know nursing is a stressful job, and it can take a toll. Its important to have family and friends around you when things get tough." You could hear that this was a genuine offer and you fully planned to take him up on it in the future. Being alone in a new state was taking its toll.

"So where and when should I plan to meet for dinner?"

"I'll text you the address real quick. Everyone is planning to meet around 6. It shouldn't be too far of a drive. It's one of JJ's coworker's houses. David Rossi. He's a real easygoing guy, and he loves cooking for everyone. He loves meeting new people even more, so you should feel right at home!"

"Sounds like a fun time. Thank you again for thinking to invite me. I'm really looking forward to it!"

"Alright boo, talk to you later."

You smiled at the pet name used by the entire Louisiana side of your family. I guess the north had yet to steal his southern roots. You hung up the phone. You finally had plans. It would be nice to talk to someone who wasn't a coworker. It would also be your first excuse to dress up since moving and starting your new job. Too excited to wait, you jumped up from the couch and began to rifle through your closet for something to wear. You didn't want to be too over or underdressed. You grabbed a black spaghetti strap fit and flare dress and throw it on with some black panty hose, a lightweight maroon cardigan, and some black heels. You snapped a quick photo in the mirror and shoot a text to Aunt JJ.

Y/N: Apparently I'm joining y'all for dinner tomorrow night...is this too much???

Aunt JJ: I heard! I can't wait!

And oh my goodness, no! You look gorgeous! It will be perfect.

Also...Henry is so excited to see you!

You smiled, more confident in your choice. Aunt JJ had great taste. You had only had the chance to meet her in person a couple times, but the two of you had clicked right away and stayed in touch over text and Facetime. Sometimes she felt more like the sister you never had.

Starting to feel the effects of your particularly difficult shift, you start to get ready for bed. You wanted to be well rested for tomorrow. You say goodnight to Juneau and crawl into bed, snuggled under all the blankets. You fall asleep with a smile on your face, with the feeling that things in your life are about to take a turn for the better. You couldn't explain it...but somehow you just knew.

#fanfic #writing #criminal minds #spencer x reader #spencerreid #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #romance #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid angst #original work #original story #Spotify

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romioneficfest · 5 years ago

Text

Put a sickle in the swear jar

Title: Put a Sickle in the Swear Jar Prompt/Day: Day 11- St Mungo’s Tumblr name: Rating: PG Brief summary: Ron is having one of those days… (bit of a post-Hogwarts domestic day in the life) Any possible triggering/warning tags: one bad swear, blood, allusions to Ron and Hermione doing it.

Ron let their dog Chudley into the back garden, then collapsed onto the sofa with a heavy sigh. The shop had been unaccountably busy for a Thursday, and almost half their staff were out sick with Fwooper Flu, including George. He had a few investor meetings, a Ministry contractor for their Defense products, and had to simultaneously man the floor of their flagship shop so it wouldn’t be a complete disaster when his meetings convened.

As it always was when a shop was lean staffed, his work shift produced the worst customers in the world. Each was ‘talk to the manager’ types: high maintenance and generally unpleasant.

The very worst was a dad who had let his terror of a four-year-old go wild through the shop. He started his visit by setting off five decoy detonators in the potions aisle, then poured love potion into the pygmy puff enclosure, and ended it by licking the outside of the glass case full of sweets.

The kid’s dad had a ‘never tell your child the word no’ policy in place. He made quite a stink when Ron dared to use the dreaded word to his child when the blighter sprinted around the shop and nearly toppled a full display case of fart sprays. Ron was only lucky they had left the shop by the time his meetings started.

He had to do his meetings on the sales floor, but it gave him a chance to show off a new prototype. He set the Secrecy Spellorator down and it created a field about two meters wide where no one could hear them ‘plan mischief.’ It even turned the volume down to noises outside the field ‘so as not to distract you from your pranking plans.’ Ron explained its alternative uses for Defensive magic and overcrowded offices, and given the way their eyes lit up, Ron could tell the pitch had gone well.

Now all he wanted was some beer or a long nap, neither of which he had proper time for. He needed to pick Hugo up from school and figure out something for dinner. He languidly pulled his arm up to catch the time. Ugh, five minutes more and he might be late.

He slumped up the steps, changed from business robes into his much preferred Muggle clothes, and let the dog back in, before Apparating a few streets away from Hugo’s school. When he arrived, a few of the mothers were gathered and chatting about an upcoming event.

Maybe if he looked busy they wouldn’t try to rope him in… He fished in his pocket for his sporadically used mobile, but realized he’d forgotten it at home.

In moments he was surrounded.

“Ron! We were just talking about you! Weren’t we, Claire?”

“Yes!” she answered with an enthusiastic clap of her hands. Whenever they were talking about him it usually meant manual labour was needed. “We’re doing a school fundraiser the fifteenth and could use your help setting things up. Also, could you bring your bakewell buns? We’ve all been simply craving them since last year!”

His brain went horribly blank of excuses, but he was saved from having to answer by his son.

“Dad!” Hugo cried from across the schoolyard, a giant grin splitting his freckled face. Ron waved at him but blanched when Hugo started running. His overly large backpack wildly swang from one hand, while his puffy jacket flailed like a flag caught in the wind from his other. Ron could see disaster looming.

“Don’t run, Hugh!” Ron hollered. As if time had slowed he watched in horror as the strap of Hugo’s backpack caught his foot, sending the seven-year-old flailing. Normally Ron could have prevented a painful crash with his wand, but with all the mums about him he couldn’t pull his wand out in time.

Hugo face-planted straight into the ground, his giant thud pulling a chorus of high-pitched gasps from the mothers.

Ron sprinted to his son who was whimpering and not moving.

“Shhh now, you’re okay, little man,” Ron said, trying his best to sound calm as he removed the backpack from around Hugo’s ankle and turned him over.

“Oh shit!” Ron let out. His son’s large brown eyes filled with tears, and his mouth overflowed with blood. His chin looked to be split open as well. “Merlin! Er, okay, Hugh, we’re gonna get you to a healer, but I need to carry you ‘round the corner so the Muggle mums don’t see us Apparate, okay?”

“You- you g-gotsta put a sssickle in the sssswear jar,” Hugo managed to lisp, before breaking into a wail as he saw the blood hit the ground.

Ron scooped up his son, somehow managing to hold the backpack and jacket as well.

The mums all had a variety of questions as he tore down the street, but he simply yelled over his shoulder that his car was round the corner. Checking about him, he Apparated them to St Mungo’s waiting room.

He vaguely recognized the lady behind the check-in desk. Her glare jogged his memory. He might’ve yelled at her a year or two prior…

“My- my son. He fell, and —”

Her glare softened after noticing Hugo’s cries and the blood soaking through Ron’s jacket. Cleared of blood by the healers Ron was infinitely grateful to not be Muggle. Chipped teeth, split lip and lacerated chin… The kid was a mess! Hugo was healed in just a few minutes, leaving him with only a small plaster for his chin he’d need with a topical ‘scar-begone’ potion for a few days.

“Do you have any plasters with brooms on them?” Hugo asked, feet kicking against the exam table.

The healer shook their head.

“Trains?”

“Just beige, I’m afraid,” the healer said with an apologetic smile.

“Dragons?”

“Hugo, we have some at home,” Ron said, knowing Hugo would continue to name things if he wasn’t stopped. “Plus we have some ice cream with your name on it!”

Hugo let out a cheer. They took the Floo home, as Ron was far too tired and rattled to be Apparating with his son.

Ron and Hugo were working on their second helpings of ice cream when Hermione arrived home via Floo.

“Hello boys,” she said, before stopping in her tracks. “Ice cream? Ron, it’s not even five-thirty!”

“We deserve it, believe me.”

“We deserve it, Mum!” Hugo repeated, with a chocolate smeared grin. “Believe me!”

Ron told her about the day they’d each had, and Hugo was happy to inform her how ‘Dad hadn’t put his sickle in the swear jar yet.’ He also was in dire need of a better plaster for his chin.

By the end of the tale she had a cautiously amused look on her face, and went to get their boxes of plasters.

“Okay, Hugo, looks like we have trains or dragons.”

“Both!”

“Choose one.”

“But Mum, I deseeeerve it, believe me!” Hugo said, a pleading look on his face.

She and Ron traded smiles over his curly head.

“Just today, because you were so brave at the hospital.”

“Gryffindor!” Hugo declared, before running after the dog, two plasters on his chin.

“How are you after all those adventures?” she asked, cuddling into Ron’s side.

“Better now that you’re home,” he said, leaning down to kiss her. “You okay with ice cream for dinner?”

“Not my first choice, but I’ll manage.” She smiled at him. “Ginny should have Rose back from Quidditch practice soon.”

“Can I feed her ice cream too?” he moaned, closing his eyes.

“You don’t have to. She’s eating with Ginny and the kids.”

“Thank Merlin, because I feel like I’ve been pulled through a keyhole backwards.”

“Oh, I guess that means we can’t…” Hugo ran by and Hermione stopped herself. “Can’t ‘you know,’ tonight.”

“Can’t… Oh right! That!”

He felt a bit chagrined that they had to schedule it ahead, but the past few weeks hadn’t allowed for much spontaneity.

“Honestly…” he sighed, before looking sideways at his beautiful wife and slowly smiling. “I’ll manage.”

“We deserve it,” she grinned.

“It’ll be boring and passionless,” he teased, leaning in to plant a kiss on her neck, lingering a bit too long.

She shivered in pleasure. “Of course.”

“You won’t even have to put a silencing spell up,” he said before kissing her more deeply. “Over in five minutes.”

“I’ll prepare myself for the disappointment,” she purred. “Twice.”

“Twice?” he asked with a disbelieving look. She stared at him quite seriously before she broke and began laughing.

“Can you imagine?” she giggled.

“After the day I had?”

“On a school night?”

“Twice?!” they repeated, laughing and snorting,

There came a great crash from the other room. Hugo shouted ‘I’m ok!’ while Chudley barked. Ron began to get up, but Hermione pulled him back down to the couch.

“Don’t forget to put a sickle in the swear jar,” she said as she rose, going to check on their chaotic son.

#Romione FicFest 2020 #Fic Post #Romione #Ron Weasley #Hermione Granger #Submission #Queue Up for the Dragon #Rated PG #cw:#cw: blood

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keelywolfe · 4 years ago

Text

FIC: The Rose and the Thorn: Chapter 11 (Mafia AU)

Summary: Ah, brotherly love! Or LOVE, depending on how this goes.

Tags: Spicyhoney, Cherryberry, Mafia AU, Flower Shop AU, Violence, First Meetings

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Read on AO3

Read it here!

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“Where have you been?”

As he was shutting the door, Rus caught a glimpse of their current Dog guard. He cringed, his tail drooping to tuck between his legs and Rus had no doubt that if he had a tail of his own, he’d be doing the same thing. Blue wasn’t very tall, but he packed a lot of punch per square inch and from the bright, erratic glow of his eye lights, he was very tempted to send all that punching right in Rus’s direction.

Rus turned to him, clutching his backpack to his chest, pins jangling and digging in. There wasn’t time to come up with a real plan and he didn’t exactly want to go with ‘hung out with strippers then ended with sitting on Edge’s lap’, so deflect, deflect, deflect it was.

“what i was told to do,” Rus tried, “staying out of trouble. i…i was reading a book.” Hey, it was true and only left out a few key details.

Instead of soothing his brother, Blue only seemed angrier, a hectic flush of near sapphire staining his cheekbones as he snapped out, “Reading a book?!” The last word soared up to a level of shrill that threatened to shatter the glasses on the little minibar in the corner. “Are you mad? Look at you!”

Rus glanced down at himself, shit, how could he have forgotten the state of his shirt? He looked like he’d taken on a part-time job as a chimney sweep. In a burst of inspiration, he said, “i…lit the fireplace, the room was cold.” Rus laughed, a touch raggedly. “i guess i need practice, it was harder than i thought.”

“You would have been warm enough back here!” Blue retorted. “It’s been hours! I’ve been sitting here, waiting and wondering, near out of my mind worrying! I asked the Dogs to bring me to you or to bring you back here and none of them would do a thing!”

“maybe they didn’t want to bother me. what were you doing, then?” Rus flung back, his own shamed guilt curdling into anger. He turned away from his brother’s accusing face and went to the closet, stashing his backpack roughly inside and ignoring the clothing hanging within. “red seemed to think you had something awfully important to talk about that both of you assumed i didn’t need to hear!”

Stupid of him, Rus cursed inwardly, as if he wasn’t keeping his own secrets about last night, secrets that he himself revealed existed with his foolish breakfast table apology. Rus hunched into himself as he waited for Blue to throw that one at him, wildly trying to come up with an explanation his brother would believe. Only Blue said nothing and when Rus risked a look at him, his round face was crumpled in upset.

“We do…we did! It’s not like that, Papy.” His brother took a hurt, hitched breath and his sudden misery only made Rus’s sinking guilt worse. He hated fighting with his brother, Blue always worked so hard, did so much for him, and here he was doing…what…with Edge? He wasn’t even sure, but what he did know was his brother who’d cared for him, bandaged his hurts, made sure he was properly clothed and fed since Rus was old enough to remember was near tears because of him. “Little brother, these people are—” Blue broke off, biting back whatever he’d planned to say. He scrubbed a hand over his face and Rus suddenly noticed Blue had changed his clothes into something simpler, his own clothes from the day before. Blue sighed heavily into his hands and when he dropped them from his face, he was calmer, “I was worried, that was all. I’m sorry I snapped.”

Rus swallowed hard, trying and failing to swallow away the swell of his guilt. His brother probably wasn’t wrong to be worried, but all he said was, “it’s okay, bro.”

Seriously, of course Blue was fucking worried, two days ago someone shot up their shop, yesterday he’d been kidnapped, had it only been yesterday? It seemed so much longer, days, weeks, since he’d been tied to that chair, bruised and terrified, wondering if he was going to die. He sank down to one knee and hugged Blue, took comfort from like he couldn’t yesterday.

His brother hugged him back, short, strong arms circling his neck, holding him tightly. Rus only vaguely remembering ever having to look up to him, he’d been taller than his big brother for ages now. Blue’s wordless murmurs of comfort became a barely audible whisper, “We mustn’t assume they can’t hear us.”

Oh.

Rus gave him a tiny nod, felt his brother sigh as he murmured, low, “We need to stay together as much as we can, to stay safe, do you understand?”

“yeah.” That must be why Blue wasn’t questioning him about what Edge let slip this morning, he was afraid of who might overhear. Rus couldn’t help being relieved at the reprieve even as his guilt threatened to strangle him. He wasn’t used to keeping secrets from his brother, not about anything. He’d explain soon, Rus told himself, he would. First, he’d use whatever time he had to figure things out for himself.

Blue finally pulled away, his eye lights suspiciously shimmery. “Now! Change your shirt and come along with me. Dogamy showed me something earlier that you might enjoy.”

“dogamy?” Rus asked, confused. Some of the clothes in the closet were in his size, he realized, and he hastily changed, this time a soft lavender pullover, before following Blue to the door. He tried not to think about what the sheer quantity of clothes might mean.

Blue nodded “He’s the leader of the Dogs around here, or so they tell me.”

“So… you got to meet the top dog, huh,” Rus said teasingly.

Worth it for the way Blue grumbled out with familiar, exasperated fondness, “Don’t start. Come along, now.”

This time Blue led the way down the hallway. Neither of them looked back at the shadow they picked up, the sound of paws on carpet as their latest sentry followed along. Blue gave no sign of his discomfort past a certain stiffness in his shoulders. The trip seemed a lot shorter than any other, to a door with a strange symbol on it. Blue pushed through it and they went up an echoing concrete staircase, easily the least elegant part of the building Rus had seen so far. Probably meant for maintenance people or even in case of fire…and he stopped that thought right there, he didn’t want to be thinking of fire in any capacity for some time.

At the top of the stairs was a heavy door with a push bar and it took both of them to push it open, but once they stepped through, out into sudden fresh air—

Well. No wonder Blue was so eager to show him.

It was a rooftop garden, arbors of cooling greenery overhead and a winding stone path leading through overflowing planters and pillars covered in winding ivory. Rus followed the path to a bench and sat, breathing in the smell of plants and soil that he’d been missing.

“this is nice, isn’t it,” Rus murmured. Hardly up to his brother’s standards when it came to gardens, but without the need for the high fences surrounding it. To his professional eye, it was all a bit of a hodgepodge; whoever set this up didn’t have much of a sense for design, or perhaps they simply didn’t care, and already he was itching to move things around a bit, arrange them into a more aesthetically pleasing form.

It was no surprise that his brother seemed in agreement of that. “Nice,” Blue sniffed, “It’s so overgrown and chaotic it’s a wonder it hasn’t wandered off down the side of the building on its own! The hanging baskets need clipped back and the drainage for the roses is so poor I expect all the bushes have root rot.” His distaste brightened into determination, “but I think we can improve it.”

“spruce it up, you mean.”

“Papy,” Blue groaned, but there was laughter beneath it. Underneath the bench was small tool caddy and Blue dragged it out, snagging a pair of gloves. It seemed he meant they should work on it now and suddenly, no idea appealed more. For all that opening the shop was his brother’s idea, Rus genuinely enjoyed the work and he’d honestly been missing it. There wasn’t much he could do about the way their shop and garden were being neglected, but there was no reason to let these atrocities continue. He grabbed a pair of his own gloves, rolling up his sleeves and got to work.

By the time Rus looked up again, sweating through his shirt and aching a bit from effort, most of the containers close to the door were trimmed and weeded, and several transplants moved to where they could be both aesthetically pleasing and benefit from the sunshine. Honestly, the rainbow was all good and well, but tossing a bunch of different flowers into one pot did not an arrangement make.

Rus peeled off his gloves as he climbed to his feet. He pressed both hands to his spine as he stretched, groaning in relief as the joints popped. A quick glance showed Blue was still hard at work, unclipping the hanging baskets to shape the unwieldy stems. Rus left him to it, wandered to the side of the building where the breeze was stronger. He braced his hands on the waist-high ledge, peering down. Past the neon glow of the sign, the street level was busy, Monsters on the sidewalk going about their business.

The Dust Bowl was too small to allow for any empty spaces and despite the overwhelming presence of the strip club, there were plenty of shops lining the street and their products became less salacious the further away they got. No Humans were in sight, but that was no surprise. Any Humans who drove through here were seeking an extremely specific product that was sold on street corners, often invited into their cars and back to a hotel room, or at least a quick park in a deserted back alley. His brother certainly tried but he couldn’t keep all the gossip from Rus’s hearing, and he knew some Monsters were unable to get paying jobs on the surface, reduced to prostitution themselves to the Humans that so often despised them.

That made Rus think of Mona, her generous kindness and her gentle smile. He really hoped that wasn’t something she had to do, that Edge meant it when he said he took care of his people.

Across the street something caught his eye, disrupting that line of thought. Rus frowned a little as he studied the car that was a tad too luxurious to fit in this neighborhood. It was parked across the street from the club and there was someone sitting in the driver’s seat, though he couldn’t make out anything about them from the distance. Not one of Edge’s people, he was sure, they’d have gone into the parking garage, so who—

*We know it’s there.*

Startled, Rus whirled around with a choked gasp. The Dog that followed them up here was behind him. None of the Dogs had ever spoken to him before but there was no mistaking that woofy accent.

“you know?” Rus asked uncertainly.

The Dog nodded, impatiently brushing back a floppy ear that fell over one eye. *Stay in the club, pup. Safe here.*

“i…yes, i will,” Rus stammered out. He turned away from that ominous car and looked back out at the rooftop, at the plants they were working so hard on. “but. is it really safe up here? couldn’t they hurt—” Us “…the garden? i mean…all right, this sounds ridiculous, but i’m not sure, a bomb? like a molotov cocktail, i’ve seen movies.”

Dogs couldn’t properly laugh, but this one’s tongue lolled out in a doggish grin. *Not Blaze, too blunt, no finesse. Couldn’t anyway.*

He stepped up to the ledge and held out a paw, gestured patiently for Rus to do the same. He did, confused, pressing out as though pushing an invisible wall and when his hand reached the edge of the building, he stopped with a startled cry. There was nothing to see, but he could feel the buzz of protective magic and the fierce intent behind it.

“spells,” Rus murmured. Edge did mention they’d been weaving plenty of protective spells over the club.

*Yes, many,* the Dog agreed. *Keep you safe, pup.*

Pup, honestly, now there was yet another nickname that he did not need.

“i do have a name,” Rus said, exasperated,

*Yes.* Another doggish laugh. *Flower shop.*

“oh, for—” Rus laughed himself, helplessly, “rus, you can call me rus.”

*Rus,* the Dog said agreeably. He didn’t offer a name of his own and Rus didn’t press. Obviously, he hadn’t reached Blue’s level of rank with the dogma around here. Something to strive for.

Rus went back into the garden proper, casting a last uncomfortable look back at that car and the watcher inside. They really were trapped in here, Rus thought unhappily. Little wildflowers plucked from their freedom and tucked into a pretty vase and the very idea of once again being imprisoned after a lifetime underground chafed, this time to a much smaller area even if they could still see the sunshine.

Trapped, and there wasn’t a thing Rus could do about it.

Instead, he snatched up his gloves again and got back to work. Rus didn’t have his brother’s skills with growing, but he liked to think he brought his own talents to the party. Time passed and Rus was finishing up trimming a bed of lovely but overgrown miniature roses when a voice spoke up behind him.

“You two have been busy.”

Rus tried to whirl around and stand in the same motion and instead toppled off his perch on the side of the planter to the ground with a painful thump.

“honestly, what is with you people always creeping up on me!” Rus grumbled, casting a glare in the direction of his frightener. Edge, who was standing by one of the arbors and likely had been for some time, stalker that he was proving himself to be.

“My apologies, I didn’t mean to frighten you,” Edge said, not quite contrite.

“you…you didn’t.” As if his soul wasn’t hammering in his rib cage. Then it throbbed wildly for another reason entirely. Edge must have showered, and he’d changed out of the sooty wreck of his suit into tight slacks and another crimson button up shirt. Only this one was undone halfway down his sternum, showing off a wealth of scarred collarbone and ribs that seemed to point in the direction of his sleek belt buckle and lower. He looked casually posh and temptingly handsome.

And here Rus was, sweaty, unwashed, and probably filthy from face to foot.

Angel have mercy.

Rus scrambled to his feet, rubbing at his poor, abused tailbone in awkward flusterment. Welp, if you couldn’t go for pizzazz, may as well go for bluster. “your garden isn’t in very good shape, you should find a new gardener. maybe try one who’s seen a plant once or twice before you hire them on.”

Edge glanced around them as though the garden just sprung up in that moment and he was only now noticing, “To be honest, I hardly remembered this was up here.”

“don’t let blue hear you say that,” Rus warned, “he nearly wept when he saw the state of your roses.” The poor things were in awful shape and Rus was very sure he’d heard his brother muttering words he hadn’t even thought Blue knew under his breath. Rus looked down at the ones he’d been tending to; the sweet-smelling blossoms with curled velvety petals were hardly larger than a knucklebone, “you seem to like your roses.”

“I do like certain flowers.” The words were much closer than expected and Rus looked up, newly startled to find standing Edge right next to him, the sneak, so close Rus could see the faint sparks crackling in his eye lights as he slowly ducked his head. Rus knew it was coming and somehow still couldn’t brace himself for the feel of Edge’s mouth against his own, coaxingly soft.

Oh. Oh, this was—he couldn’t think, not with Edge so close to him, the smell of him, the heat of his body, his mouth. Rus swallowed down a whimper, tipping his head up and let his teeth part. There was a flicker of a tongue over his own, coyly enticing, and Rus followed the invitation, shyly exploring Edge’s mouth with his own, tasting the heady spice of magic and desire.

That mouth began to draw away far too soon and Rus would have chased it, frantically rising up on his toes as it slipped out of reach, desperate for more. Would have, if strong hands hadn’t caught his shoulders and a low chuckle dragged him back to embarrassing reality.

“Eager, are we?” Edge husked out. It took far too long for his meaning to register, long enough for him to cup Rus’s face in a large hand, his gloved thumb brushing away what was probably a smudge of dirt from his cheekbone.

“you--!” Rus sputtered, but all his indignance faltered, fading, when he caught sight of his brother.

Blue was looking at them, white-faced and grim, and his sockets were empty caves of blackness.

Fuck.

Edge followed his look, catching sight of Blue before he turned away and stormed off the furthest corner of the garden, and frowned. “You haven’t told him anything about us, have you.”

There was an understatement. “i wasn’t sure what there was to tell,” Rus admitted, too soft.

“That’s a discussion all its own. Don’t keep secrets from your brother,” Edge said, “You have nothing to be ashamed about.”

Something about the confidence in that roused Rus’s indignance again. Honestly, Edge hardly knew him and certainly didn’t know a thing about Blue, and here he was, making blanket statements like that. As if he knew a thing about shame. Tartly, Rus asked, “you’re so sure about that?”

“Yes,” Edge said, a low, amused rumble. “There’s no shame in giving in to the inevitable.”

“inevita—" Rus gasped. Of all the arrogant, conceited…! “you don’t even know my name!”

“No? Talk to your brother, tell him the truth.” Edge’s humor went suddenly grim. “Once you get into the habit of keeping secrets, it’s difficult to break it.”

That was enough to cool some of Rus’s roused temper. He suspected Edge was speaking from experience. But then, his brother was Red. Who wouldn’t want to keep secrets from him? Blue was another story; how could he even begin to make his brother understand that in a way this did feel inevitable. He hardly knew Edge, he certainly didn’t approve of his business, and yet, Rus was helplessly drawn to him for reasons he wasn’t sure he could articulate, much less in a way Blue would believe. “that’s easy for you to say.”

“All you have to do is say the words, flower shop,” Edge said. Then, briskly, “Now, I came up here to see if you were hungry. Breakfast was some time ago.”

As if waiting for the perfect moment to embarrass him, his magic chose that moment to give a ravenous sort of growl.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Edge chuckled. “Would you rather eat dinner in your room or with my brother and I?”

Talked about choosing between the devil and the deep blue sea. “with you,” Rus sighed. At least if dinner was with the devil, it gave him a little time to figure out how to flounder in the deep water.

Edge nodded, unsurprised, “Come on, then, we’ll get your brother together.”

A large hand settled at the base of his spine, warmth bleeding through his thin shirt as Edge guided him along. Rus gulped, but didn’t protest.

His brother loved him, Rus told himself, he did, Blue always took care of him. They’d figure this out.

tbc

#spicyhoney #papcest #keelywolfe #underfell #underswap #underfell papyrus #underswap papyrus #mafia AU

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queenied · 4 years ago

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La La Lu💕☁️

Babysitting? Simple, that was one of the most easiest tasks Sora had ever been given. He amongst Axel, Riku, Ven, Roxas and Terra were to babysit an infant baby for Aqua's sweet friend, Darling Dear.

"Never hung around a baby before." Riku admitted, he rubbed the back of his neck as the boys dismounted from their Gummi Ship with Aqua and into the World of New Orleans. A bayou city bustling with horse and carriage and people itching to arrive on time to work. Because they would not want to cause any sort of tension within this world, the magic within Yen Sid allowed the boys plus Aqua to adjust to this world's customs and styles so the order ensured their attire was appropriate for the sign of the times.

"Relax Riku, it's a baby! What's the worst that could happen?" Sora grinned, nudging his best friend. They followed behind Aqua towards a very gated neighborhood, the houses were large and neatly in rows from one another. Even the trees on the sidewalk were gated and many of the neighbors had a dog right beside them, walking in rows.

"Sheesh, even the trash cans have gates around them. What sort of High-maintenance dungeon are we in anyways..." Axel rolled his eyes, Roxas snickering a little at his friend's remark. Before Aqua whipped around and faces towards the guys.

"Alright boys, in the house we're about to enter, there's a newborn baby. Who you will be looking after. I expect the five of you to be on your best behavior. Darling Dear and her husband Jim are going away for a bit and it's impossible to bring their baby with them." Aqua stated.

"Why didn't you ask Xion and the girls to look after the kid instead?" Roxas suggested.

"Because the girls are already dispatched to a mission to Atlantica. Anyways, Darling reached out to me and Yen Sid suggested I brought you boys since I'm unable to tend to this mission because I have Keyblade master business to worry about."

Ventus smiled brightly at Aqua, grabbing her hand he looked up at his older companion. "You can count on us Aqua!"

"Now that's what I wanna hear." she smiled tiredly and approached a tall but large house. The windows were tightly shut but beautiful ivory laced curtains adorned them, and the stairs were white as well. A single doggy-door was implanted onto the front of the house which gave everyone the impression that there was a dog about the house—almost everyone in this preppy neighborhood had one.

Aqua knocked on the door, almost instantly a barking dog could be heard. She chuckled happily as she was greeted at the door by a Cocker Spaniel who happily barked and jumped around Aqua's feet.

"Well, hello there Lady!" Aqua giggled and petted Lady's brown fur that laid upon the top of her head. Then she was greeted by a tall, slender man with a red mustache. He looked very much 'about business.' He stood at the door and nodded his head kindly at Aqua.

"Hello Jim! Long time no see." Aqua greeted the man of the house. He rubbed his pointed chin. "Good to see you again Aqua. Sorry to trouble you at such short notice but Darling and I appreciate your help. She and the baby are upstairs. We trust that little Jim jr doesn't give you a hard time. He's a very polite little baby...that he is."

Lady zoomed past Jim Dear's feet and scampered outside to the five boys, she barked and jumped upon Sora's legs. Her energetic pounces nearly causing the brunette boy to fall onto the grassy terrain below him and the others just laughed.

"Oh, Jim Dear, these are the babysitters. They're trusted friends and I promise they'll protect baby Junior with all their heart. That's Sora, Axel, Riku, Ventus and Terra." Aqua introduced the five of them as they made their way towards the door. Jim Dear sneered a little bit, his fatherly instincts kicking is as five unknown males show up to care for his baby.

"You can trust us Mr Dear!" Sora said proudly. Riku nodded. "We're sort of a group of overachievers. We're super trustworthy too.

Jim's eyes scanned over each of them until he turned to Aqua. "And where will you be going?"

"I'm far too busy, which is why I trusted them with this task. I know things will be fine Jim." Aqua pleaded, Jim soon obliged, allowing the group to entire their beautiful home. Lady continuously barked behind them. Excited that a fresh group of faces were inside her house.

"Darling is just upstairs." Jim called out before he began to pack the rest of his belongings along with Darling Dear's for their long trip.

Roxas and Axel raced up the long curving staircase and the rest followed behind.

A beautiful and low singing voice ringed out the baby's nursery. An angelic looking woman who sort of resembled a princess sat upon a rocking chair, frills covering the curtains which shone a nice set of sunrays. Her voice was just so dreamy, it could put anyone to sleep or even calm them down.

La la lu, la la lu

Oh, my little star sweeper

I'll sweep the stardust for you

La la lu, la la lu

Little soft fluffy sleeper

Here comes a pink cloud for you

La la lu, la la lu

Little wandering angel

Fold up your wings, close your eyes

La la lu, la la lu

And may love be your keeper

La la lu, la la lu, la la lu

Aqua walked into the room slowly to not awaken baby Junior, greeting Darling quietly. The boys followed behind Aqua, each of the hiding behind Darling Dear, staring down at the sweet little baby. His eyes closed but in a relaxed manner and his rosy little cheeks bright pink. He was so tiny...Sora could just die from the cuteness overload.

"Thank you for coming, Aqua." Darling whispered kindly. "Baby Junior has been quite fussy lately, but only that song seems to keep him at bay." She chuckled softly. Aqua grinned, taking a quick glance at the baby.

"This is Sora, Riku, Terra, Ventus and Roxas. They'll be babysitting little Junior." Aqua introduced each boy, however they seemed to be far too enchanted by the sweet little Starsweeper who'd lain in his crib sleeping his little heart away.

"Thank you so much for helping us boys, I'll pay the five of you as soon as our trip is over. And thank you Aqua for bringing them here. So sorry for the trouble! I just hate leaving my little baby so early." Darling sighed before she gave Junior a quick kiss on his soft little face and dashed down the stairs.

"You sure you guys can handle this?" Aqua asked nervously. "If anything happens to Junior I dunno what'll happen."

Terra approached Aqua, resting a hand on her shoulder. "We've got it under control. We're keyblade heroes...and this is just a baby."

💕☁️10 minutes later...

"OH MY WORLDS! THIS CHILD WILL NOT STOP CRYING!" Riku panicked as he was covered in baby powder and was scrambling on the floor to quickly pick up all of the diapers that he dropped when he was attempting to change the stinky diaper that Junior was using.

Sora held the baby in his arms, his ears ringing from the loud cries and wails that the baby mustered. "Make it stop!"

"Quick someone grab the pacifier!" Ventus yelled as he and Terra were hurrying to the kitchen to prepare the baby bottle. Roxas was trying to cheer baby Junior up by casting a few waterga spells to put on a little water show, but that only made the little child cry louder.

Meanwhile, Axel was knocked out cold on one of the beds in the nursery. Sleeping soundly like a baby, not helping at all.

"Hush little Junior!" Sora whined, the baby only screamed louder. Roxas reached down within the baby's toy bin to grab different rattles and stuffed bears for him to become occupied with. Junior would be quiet for a total of ten seconds before he starts to cry once more.

Just then, Lady returned from her little doggy walks with her fellow dog friends Jock and Trusty. She dashed up the stairs but immediately winced as Junior continued to cry.

"Ah, there you are Lady! Can you help!?" Riku gathered the diapers and grabbed Junior from Sora's hand and continued to attempt at changing the loaded diaper.

"Where the heck is Axel!?" Ventus yelled out, unable to hear his own self think as he and Terra heated up the bottle upon the bottle heating station. Axel only snored, he seemed unfazed by the wails and cries of baby Junior.

"I'm making sure he doesn't get paid when Darling Dear returns." Terra grumbled, he attempted to pick the bottle up from the heating station but burned his own-self and gasped, throwing the bottle in the air. Ventus scurried to grab the bottle before it breaks onto the ground.

"Remind me to never have kids when I get married! Okay Riku?" Sora massaged the temple of his head, trying to relieve the headache he had from the cries.

Lady barked and jumped up and down as if she was trying to tell the boys something. She ran to the baby's crib and pushed it over to Riku with her own head. She started howling Darling Dear's lullaby.

"What's she trying to say?" Roxas groaned as he handed Riku the clips to keep the diaper together. Then Sora handed Riku an adorable pastel blue onesie to allow baby Junior to wear.

"Lady, what are you trying to tell us?" Sora lifted Lady from the ground and brushed his tired fingers through her brown fur. His head pounding like a drum from the headache the baby gave him. The cries continued as Terra and Ven ran upstairs to the room from the kitchen.

"Here's the baby milk!" Terra handed the bottle to Roxas who gently inserted the bottle into Junior's little mouth. He seized crying for a total of 2 minutes.

"Two minutes of silence was all we got." Ventus collapsed onto the floor, surrounded by baby items and the smell of baby milk formula all over his hands and a little bit of powder on his cheek.

Axel slowly woke up, scratching his back and walking towards the rest of the guys. He chuckled lowly. "Woah, calm down youngster." He grabbed baby Junior who was crying endlessly. "So milk didn't calm you down? No biggie..." he groaned before rocking the tiny baby.

The boys stared at Axel in awe, he was amazing with babies for some reason. Junior was quiet while Axel held him and rocked him around the room. Axel reclined on the beautifully painted rocking chair and rocked back and forth as Junior stared up curiously at Axel's fire red mane of hair.

"How are you doing that?" Roxas asked, he walked over to the rocking chair and Sora and the others later did. "Yeah what are you doing?" Riku questioned.

"Shush." Axel silenced the guys before he started to hum lowly. Secretly, Axel had a beautiful singing voice. As in, he could sing lovely ballads as if he were a Disney prince. Those emerald green eyes staring directly at baby Junior as he began to sing the beautiful lullaby that Darling would sing.

Lady smiled and curled onto Sora's lap listening to Axel sing. That was what she was trying to tell the boys.

This red human knows what he's doing. Lady thought to herself as she watched Axel sing.

La la lu, la la lu

Oh, my little star sweeper

I'll sweep the stardust for you

La la lu, la la lu

Little soft fluffy sleeper

Here comes a pink cloud for you

La la lu, la la lu

Little wandering angel

Fold up your wings, close your eyes

La la lu, la la lu

And may love be your keeper

La la lu, la la lu, la la lu

Terra stared confusedly at Axel until the song was finished, the baby slowly closed his little eyes, cooing cutely until he was fast asleep in his own little baby world.

Axel stood up slowly from the rocking chair and lowered baby Junior into the crib. Covering his little stomach with a swaddle blanket made of beautiful pink silk.

The boys stared at Axel until the ex-organization member raised an eyebrow. "Speak nothing of my singing." Before he yawned and collapsed on the floor next to the crib to fall asleep. Lady jumped down from Sora's lap and curled up next to the crib in a protective manner before falling fast asleep.

"Roxas, you've known Axel for a while. How come you didn't know he was good with babies?" Riku asked confusedly as he dusted the baby powder off of his black shorts.

Roxas blinked twice and shrugged. "Beats me, he never spoke about his hidden talent for singing either." Roxas stated before laying back on one of the beds in the nursery. Everyone slowly falling asleep after that long time of caring for a tiny child. Who knew nursing a Little Star Sweeper could be so difficult.

💕☁️ 2 hours later

Sora was greeted with Lady's licking all over his face, he groaned and then laughed a tiny bit, waking up, he heard the door unlock and he stretched.

Jim and Darling Dear were home. He happily walked downstairs to greet the couple and help them with their bags.

"How was your trip?" Sora yawned. Darling smiled and removed her winter's coat. "Oh Sora, it was tiring. Nothing but adult business really. How was our sweet little star?" She asked, placing the umbrella into it's rightful spot before being greeted to Lady who ran happily towards her owners. She barked and licked all over Darling and Jim's cheeks.

"Junior? Oh he was such an angel." Sora chuckled and lead them upstairs to the nursery, where the boys were awake. They all stood over baby Junior's little crib, where the small baby was fast asleep.

"My sweet baby..." Darling walked up to the crib, she sighed in content, glad to have trusted the boys with her son.

"Thank you for caring for my baby. As I promised you boys, I'm paying you all for your hardwork. Did Junior give you a hardtime?" Darling asked as she dug into her purse to pay each boy.

"He was a bit fussy but nothing a little singing cant handle." Terra grinned and looked at Axel who was staring down at baby Junior. He loved that baby even for the short amount of time he got to know him.

"Well that's wonderful! Thank you again for watching after him. I'll be sure to tell Aqua all about you boys. Maybe you should consider your own babysitting service." Darling Dear chuckled before lifting her baby boy out of the crib and into her arms.

💕☁️back at Mysterious Tower

"So you're telling me Axel was able to sing a baby to sleep?" Xion whispered to Roxas as he told his best friend all about what happened.

"Yeah, he's apparently good with babies...I wonder where this trait came from." Roxas laughed before hearing someone behind him clearing his throat. The room suddenly felt warm and he knew exactly who it was.

☁️💕

thank you all for reading !

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hillnerd · 4 years ago

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Put a Sickle in the Swear Jar

Written for @romioneficfest - thx to @abradystrix for editing Rating: PG AO3 ff.net Summary: Ron is having one of those days… (bit of a post-Hogwarts domestic day in the life) triggers: blood, allusions to Ron and Hermione doing it.

-----

As it always was when a shop was lean staffed, his work shift produced the worst customers in the world. Each was ‘talk to the manager’ types: high maintenance and generally unpleasant.

Maybe if he looked busy they wouldn’t try to rope him in… He fished in his pocket for his sporadically used mobile, but realized he’d forgotten it at home.

In moments he was surrounded.

“Ron! We were just talking about you! Weren’t we, Claire?”

His brain went horribly blank of excuses, but he was saved from having to answer by his son.

Hugo face-planted straight into the ground, his giant thud pulling a chorus of high-pitched gasps from the mothers.

Ron sprinted to his son who was whimpering and not moving.

“Shhh now, you’re okay, little man,” Ron said, trying his best to sound calm as he removed the backpack from around Hugo’s ankle and turned him over.

“You- you g-gotsta put a sssickle in the sssswear jar,” Hugo managed to lisp, before breaking into a wail as he saw the blood hit the ground.

Ron scooped up his son, somehow managing to hold the backpack and jacket as well.

He vaguely recognized the lady behind the check-in desk. Her glare jogged his memory. He might’ve yelled at her a year or two prior…

“My- my son. He fell, and —”

“Do you have any plasters with brooms on them?” Hugo asked, feet kicking against the exam table.

The healer shook their head.

“Trains?”

��Just beige, I’m afraid,” the healer said with an apologetic smile.

“Dragons?”

“Hugo, we have some at home,” Ron said, knowing Hugo would continue to name things if he wasn’t stopped. “Plus we have some ice cream with your name on it!”

Hugo let out a cheer. They took the Floo home, as Ron was far too tired and rattled to be Apparating with his son.

Ron and Hugo were working on their second helpings of ice cream when Hermione arrived home via Floo.

“Hello boys,” she said, before stopping in her tracks. “Ice cream? Ron, it’s not even five-thirty!”

“We deserve it, believe me.”

“We deserve it, Mum!” Hugo repeated, with a chocolate smeared grin. “Believe me!”

Ron told her about the day they’d each had, and Hugo was happy to inform her how ‘Dad hadn’t put his sickle in the swear jar yet.’ He also was in dire need of a better plaster for his chin.

By the end of the tale she had a cautiously amused look on her face, and went to get their boxes of plasters.

“Okay, Hugo, looks like we have trains or dragons.”

“Both!”

“Choose one.”

“But Mum, I deseeeerve it, believe me!” Hugo said, a pleading look on his face.

She and Ron traded smiles over his curly head.

“Just today, because you were so brave at the hospital.”

“Gryffindor!” Hugo declared, before running after the dog, two plasters on his chin.

“How are you after all those adventures?” she asked, cuddling into Ron’s side.

“Better now that you’re home,” he said, leaning down to kiss her. “You okay with ice cream for dinner?”

“Not my first choice, but I’ll manage.” She smiled at him. “Ginny should have Rose back from Quidditch practice soon.”

“Can I feed her ice cream too?” he moaned, closing his eyes.

“You don’t have to. She’s eating with Ginny and the kids.”

“Thank Merlin, because I feel like I’ve been pulled through a keyhole backwards.”

“Oh, I guess that means we can’t…” Hugo ran by and Hermione stopped herself. “Can’t ‘you know,’ tonight.”

“Can’t… Oh right! That!”

He felt a bit chagrined that they had to schedule it ahead, but the past few weeks hadn’t allowed for much spontaneity.

“Honestly…” he sighed, before looking sideways at his beautiful wife and slowly smiling. “I’ll manage.”

“We deserve it,” she grinned.

“It’ll be boring and passionless,” he teased, leaning in to plant a kiss on her neck, lingering a bit too long.

She shivered in pleasure. “Of course.”

“You won’t even have to put a silencing spell up,” he said before kissing her more deeply. “Over in five minutes.”

“I’ll prepare myself for the disappointment,” she purred. “Twice.”

“Twice?” he asked with a disbelieving look. She stared at him quite seriously before she broke and began laughing.

“Can you imagine?” she giggled.

“After the day I had?”

“On a school night?”

“Twice?!” they repeated, laughing and snorting,

There came a great crash from the other room. Hugo shouted ‘I’m ok!’ while Chudley barked. Ron began to get up, but Hermione pulled him back down to the couch.

“Don’t forget to put a sickle in the swear jar,” she said as she rose, going to check on their chaotic son.

#romione #ron weasley #hermione granger #hugo weasley #rose weasley #fanfic #family fluff #my writing #fanfiction

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brooktm · 5 years ago

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˙ ˖ ✧ ariana grande , 24 , cisfemale , she/her // was that BROOKLYN ESPOSITO stepping aboard the GUCCI JET ? oh now it’s a party ! we all know they can be pretty DETACHED , but also pretty SOPHISTICATED on a good day , just like a CAPRICORN . they’ll be blasting HEARTLESS BY THE WEEKND for most of the plane ride , i can already tell . i think they added FIJI ISLANDS to the list of places to visit this year . let’s pop the champagne and get going !

sup friends !! i’m jen , also formally known as that dumbass , u might feel free to address me by either i rly dont mind . ANYwho this is brooklyn !! also a trash bby who thinks waaaay too highly of herself n rly shouldnt bc she’s dumb . SO there is some info on her after the beep n also some connection ideas n a pinterest board bc this bitch is artsy . also like ... its been a hot min since roleplaying was a thing for me so i’m gonna have to ask for a lil of yalls patience ... its a slow process getting caught up on these aesthetics fam .

ok so meet brooklyn . full name is brooklyn elisabetta esposito n as yall can guess ... shes italian . brook comes from a family of old money n its so old no one rly knows how they even became rich ? they just have been for as long as they remember . nowadays , the family branches into a bunch of different business , since its a huge family filled with aunts n uncles who shes met maybe once of twice in her life . her immediate family ( dad ) , however , has branched into the wine business , so they have several different vineyards both in the us and in europe , and subsequently a multimillion dollar wine company .

brooklyn was born to henrico esposito ( one of six children .... like , seriously ) n his first wife , adrienne an american model he married when they were in their early 20s . brooklyn was the second born child , and in five years they were divorced after a cheating scandal , n in the decade n half that followed , her dad married four more times n had five more kids .. reaching the total amount of seven children . he likes kids yall . brooklyn was raised by her mother n isnt rly close to her dad , she’s just constantly eyerolling at him tbh . she is however rly close to her maternal grandma elisabetta who she basically adopted her entire personality from . which reaches the point of her personality

soooo brooklyn likes to think of herself as basically a master of emotions . cool as cucumber n the ultimate manipulator . n she kinda is in some aspects ? but definitely not to the extent she prides herself . she likes to keep her cards v close to her chest , so u will rarely ( if ever ) find her in the middle of an emotional outburst or tantrum . she also has that deadpan thing down n will not hesitate to stare u down with the blankest expression just to make you uncomfortable lol n she’s also rly closed off !! its rly hard to get her to emotionally attach to u BUT if she does , its bc she definitely doesnt hate you as much as she wants u to believe .

also !!! likes to be the classiest bitch in whatever room she’s in n she’s SUPER high maintenance dont ever call her for anything other than a fancy CLASSY thing n expect her to show her face . but also …. put some alcohol inside this girl n she will definitely get caught giving a lap dance to a fuckin empty chair n like …. ask every single person around her to take her to the nearest mcdonalds so she can eat some fucking chicken nuggets . HONESTLY she rly is a high maintenance ho but no one can be that classy all the time dont judge her for wanting some FUCKING chicken nuggets !!

that being said she is also SO protective of those around her . even tho she might claim to hate u , she will go to war w that bitch that said ur shirt was ugly no questions asked . is also very unimpressed w/ things in general so it takes a Lot to get her approval in p much anything ur doing . that being said i did say she’s a dumbass who thinks she’s very smart n like ... 10/10 she will end up being that one friend who will go complain abt ur stupid plans but end up getting arrested w/ u .

in regards to her love life , brooklyn is p open as a bisexual girl . she’s not a v romantic girl tho , like she doesnt rly have a romanticized idea of love ( her father has been married like ... 17 times yall ) n her relationships so far were usually more abt convenience & ease than passion / love at all . that being said she doesnt hate love or run from it she just doesnt feel it frequently n doesnt actively pursue it ??

ok so u will now find some headcanons abt this head job:

u will never ever find her without heels on bc she’s too short to be elegant lmao i hate her

loves dogs . animals in general but most of all dogs . funds a bunch of animal rescues n will pet a dog no matter what whenever she sees one

will cry everytime she watches tangled no questions asked

lip gloss queen will be wearing lip gloss everytime u see her

has had a diary her entire life and carries one w herself wherever she goes

is the least crushy person ever . has got 0 celeb crushes . henry cavill who ? she has no time for dudebros in her life

took ballet lessons up until she was nineteen yrs old n set fire to all her pointé shoes when she gave it up

has a reaaaaally loud laugh but its not a big laugher so u need to be extra funny to get it out of her

there is so much more but im so lazy @god why u do me like that ? anyways i got some connection ideas but those r pretty shallow n general n i love coming up w things from scratch , so feel free to hit me up for some brainstorming !! but yea i would love some polar opposites best friends w someone who’s rly bubbly n adventurous n doesnt suck the joy out of all ambients like brooklyn tries to do lmao . also some exes maybe someone she’s in good terms w/ bc it wasnt a v passionate relationship but also someone she rly liked but when things ended it was all v awkward or maybe it ended on bad terms bc they rly liked each other ? some Family connections !! she has a huge family so cousins or 2nd cousins or even siblings !! sexual relationships that r either v shallow or v messy would also be nice bc its good to have brooklyn lose her temper every once in a while ? someone who’s always trying to get her to freak out like friends who annoy each other ?

#luxe:intro #oh boy it has taken me a Moment to write this down #brook n i r dumb bitches but pls love us

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wizardwisenmore · 5 years ago

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Starjack Week Day 4 - Hobbies

Hobby: Plants

Green. That was not something Wheeljack was expecting when he walked into Starscream’s habsuite to discuss some files that he had asked about and now Wheeljack can’t help staring at the crowding flora. If it were not for the numerous pots hanging and sitting around the main living space the whole suite would look barren and unlived in. There’s no decoration beyond the plants beyond a few odd trinkets here and there and all the furniture is very minimalist. Overall, it didn’t feel like Starscream’s place at all. There was no luxurious furnishings or dramatic curtains to frame the light filtering through the large windows that presented a view of the more scenic parts of the newly repaired city. It’s… nice, homey if strange which are all attributes Wheeljack never thought he’d apply to anything Starscream related but here he is, in Starscream’s suite surrounded by alien life that has been carefully tended to the point of being lush and healthy. He becomes mesmerized by a gorgeous purple flower dangling from one of the hanging pots that’s filling the air with a sweet scent like nothing he’s ever encountered before. Wheeljack notes that it’s probably one of Starscream’s favorites as many others like it but in different colors hangs around the room in far greater frequency.

Setting down the datapads, Wheeljack walks around the room, taking in all of the different plants and assessing each one with a gentle touch, careful not to bruise any of the delicate leaves. A strange burst of something flutters in Wheeljack’s spark as he sees plant after plant that’s so healthy and vibrant that he feels that painstaking effort must have been made to get them so. It’s all so lovely, he just doesn’t know what to make of it.

“Do you like them?” Starscream asks, finally joining him from the dining area with two cubes of energon and hands one to Wheeljack.

“I do,” Wheeljack nods and takes the energon without looking away from the plants, “I admit I’m at a loss. I thought you didn’t like organics.”

Starscream scoffs and takes a sip of his energon which Wheeljack has realized is one of the many ways he hides is true expressions.

“I hate the mess of the animals and the smell,” Starscream shudders then looks back to his plants and smiles, “I have found that many plants don’t have those issues. Admittedly, they can be a bit messy at times when you have to plant or prune them or when they shed their leaves but it's a much more manageable and cleaner -forgive the oxymoron- mess.”

“You really like them,” Wheeljack sets his energon down and smiles over at Starscream, “Love them even.”

Looking at Starscream now, he could really see it, the bright green leaves and vines crowding around the seeker’s frame, framing him elegantly and making his red plating stand out all the more. The smattering of flowers make him almost look delicate, especially when he takes a blush toned one in hand and runs his fingers over it gently, indulgently. At the last second, Wheeljack manages to catch himself before he gets too close, already well in Starscream’s space now without even realizing he had moved.

“I suppose,” Starscream says over to him, not looking away from his plants, “It’s all Thundercracker’s fault anyway. He said he had some kind of revelation that I wasn’t anything like what the humans call a ‘cat person’ or ‘dog person’... Said I wasn’t even more inclined to the exotic. He put a plant in my hand he’d gotten from some market on a trade station near Earth -council owned- and declared that I’m a plant person.”

Wheeljack looks around again and ponders if Thundercracker realizes what nature of monster he’s unleashed onto Cybertron now. Clearly, Starscream had not been satisfied with just the one and had set about to get more until his living space was fit to burst. He laughs a little under his breath and feels a little giddy at getting to discover a small thing about Starscream, another thing no one else knows.

“Do you still have it?” Wheeljack asks, looking around as if he’d know which one it was.

“I do,” Starscream admits quietly and walks away, expecting Wheeljack to follow him.

He winds up leading Wheeljack to his office which is filled with even more plants to an even greater density if that was even possible and stops at his desk and gestures to the little pot there. It’s small by Cybertronian standards, the leaves are a lovely dark green with little strips of yellow forming horizontally along the long leaves sitting in a round, white pot. For all the world, it’s cute.

“You’re not much one for expressing your gratitude so what did you tell Thundercracker when you discovered your love of plants?” Wheeljack crosses his arms, watching Starscream, bemused.

Starscream keeps his optics on his little plant as he says, “I told him it died.”

Wheeljack jolts as a surprised laugh erupts from him, shaking his frame and making Starscream look at him in slight affront.

“That sounds like you,” Wheeljack smiles fondly at Starscream, “Couldn’t even give him the chance to gloat, huh?”

Starscream picks up a spray bottle and busies himself with misting some of his plants, turning determinedly from Wheeljack.

“I couldn’t let him have something so… vulnerable from me,” Starscream says the word ‘vulnerable’ like it could actively hurt him forcing an aching flare from Wheeljack’s spark.

So much has changed on Cybertron, between them since things had calmed down after the end of the war so to see Starscream sticking into old habits such as these, even with something so small, was painful to watch.

“He wasn’t trying to get something from you, you know,” Wheeljack puts a hand on his shoulder, getting Starscream to turn to look at him.

“I know,” Starscream says and the way he says it makes Wheeljack think he does, “Things are just still uneasy between us.”

“Don’t you think it was his way of smoothing a piece of it over?” Wheeljack offers.

Starscream sighs and puts the spray bottle down, “Yeah, yeah it was. I guess I just didn’t want him to be right about me.”

“You don’t want to admit he knows you better than you think he does?” Wheeljack nudges Starscream who looks at him ruefully.

“Something like that,” Starscream mutters.

Wheeljack looks back at all the plants around them and is struck with a thought.

“How do you even have time to take care of them all? Aren’t things like this high maintenance?”

“Not as much as you might think,” Starscream supplies as he idly spins one of the hanging pots, “So long as they’re getting the right amount of sun and water that’s about it. Plants are pretty good at supporting themselves and often don’t like to be messed with too much. With most of these plants I can miss a day or two and they’ll be fine.”

“So they’re like you then,” Wheeljack teases and Starscream snaps to look at him, a confused look on his face, “Just give enough attention but not too much too overwhelm and they’ll be okay, healthy, perfect, and beautiful.”

Starscream laughs almost bitterly but it’s light enough that Wheeljack pays it no mind.

“What?” Starscream asks, his tone pitched high and baffled, “Are you calling me of all people ‘perfect’ and ‘beautiful’?”

Wheeljack leans over to Starscream and brushes away some leaves that had fallen on his helm from the spinning plant.

“Maybe.”

Starscream face falls into a tense expression in one of the very rare moments of actually being taken off guard and watches Wheeljack carefully.

“I like that you can share this with me,” Wheeljack confesses, gentle as not to startle him, “It was surprising… and wonderful. You’re not anything like what everyone else expects. I like that about you. There’s always more.”

Starscream huffs a short, stilted laugh, “Stop it. I’m not… You’re walking a dangerous path here, Wheeljack.”

Wheeljack steps fully in front of Starscream, “Try me.”

Never one to back out of a challenge, Starscream pushes forward, taking both of Wheeljack’s shoulders in his hand and presses a kiss over his mask. It’s quick, light, almost shy but it’s a kiss and it’s effective in knocking Wheeljack off balance so he’s stammering. Confused but happy, he tries to find the words he wants to say as Starscream smirks at him and is still very close to him. Giving up altogether on saying anything witty that could wipe that self-satisfied smirk off his face, Wheeljack lets his mask slide away and kisses Starscream in full, tender and sweet before pulling away. Now it’s his turn to smirk with Starscream gazing at him openly, lips still parted from the kiss and Wheeljack decides that’s a good look on him, cute even. Then, Starscream seems to regain himself and -with a wicked grin- pushes Wheeljack back on his desk, still careful of the plants.

Hovering over Wheeljack, he says, “I think those files are going to have to wait a while, don’t you agree?”

“Ah,” Wheeljack stutters, “M-maybe…”

Then Starscream actually smiles sweetly at him and he knows he’s a goner and he really can’t find it in himself to mind.

#starjackweek #starjack #starscream #wheeljack

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ldarchive · 5 years ago

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oc interview meme~

The rules: Answer the following questions as your OC of choice.

I chose Ari. The thing is, Ari hates talking to reporters -- if you hit on the right topic you might get an impassioned rant out of him (see: that scene in ME2 where Shepard starts listing all the ships that went down at the battle of the Citadel), but generally he’s pretty tight-lipped and brusquely Professional. So for this meme I sorta imagined him in like a semi-formal environment where he’d be more comfortable, like maybe if one of his friends was interviewing him or something... I’ve put too much thought into this, whatever!!

1. What’s your name?

Ari Shepard.

2. Do you know why you are called that?

I never got the opportunity to ask.

3. Are you single or taken?

Pretty sure it’s common knowledge that I’m married. The krogan guests at the wedding wanted to eat the reporters, but my husband said no.

4. Have any abilities or powers?

I used to run into stuff really hard for a living. Not sure how much of a talent that counts as, but they keep putting me in the news vids anyway.

5. Stop being a Mary Sue.

Hey, Kaidan told me about that while we were watching Star Trek once! Really not sure I count, though. I’m just some guy. And not fictional.

6. What’s your eye color?

Blue.

7. How about your hair color?

Blond. Well, black. Usually somewhere in-between that.

8. Have any family members?

Sure, lots. My semi-successful diplomacy career did very little to prepare me for family reunions at the Alenko commune.

9. Oh? How about any pets?

We have a dog. Laika. Her adoption papers told me she’s the goodest girl in the whole galaxy. She’s a purebreed, I--we needed a dog with a certain temperament, you know, they’re very carefully vetted. But she’s not spoiled. OK, I can feel my husband rolling his eyes at me: she’s spoiled. But only because she’s earned it. Kaidan named her.

I have a lot of fish, too. They’re more high-maintenance than the dog, believe it or not.

10. That’s cool, I guess. Now tell me something you don’t like.

Uh, sitcoms. People on public transit who look at me funny. Reporters, especially if they try to bug me when I’m with my kids. Seriously, cut that [redacted] out. Distance. Uh, politicians--heh. I could go on.

11. Do you have any activities/hobbies that you like to do?

You know, I’m an alright cook. I make a mean pot of soup. Yukagejang is a big comfort food in my house--it’s an old recipe. I usually make a big pot for the kids if Kaidan has to go away on business, but then he’s sad because he doesn’t get to have any. Heh. I grow a lot of the vegetables myself, too.

I have a music collection, too. Physical media. Very old-fashioned, but I lost a lot of my files some years back, and some of that stuff I was never able to find again! That haunts me. There was this one Batarian band... anyway, I’ve been hesitant to add more to it because our home is slowly being overrun by a frankly unsustainable number of kids.

(Editor’s note: Commander Shepard and General Alenko have two children.)

12. Have you hurt anyone in any way before?

I beat Garrus at a sniping contest once. I don’t think he’s ever forgiven me for that.

13. Ever… killed anyone before?

I feel like answering this would violate some sort of military doctrine or Council non-disclosure clause. I really don’t need the Spectres after me - I’m married to one, and that’s bad enough.

14. What kind of animal are you?

Well, my name means “lion.” I’ve never given that one much thought, but the recruitment posters got a lot of mileage out of it.

Something I heard a lot during the Reaper War, and the aftermath, was that people felt like caged rats. Or their culture’s equivalent. That the Reapers were treating us like filthy little vermin to experiment on and then exterminate. But, you know, I’m from New York, so I’ve always known that rats are mean little [redacted] and that they can absolutely bite back.

15. Name your worst habits?

...I’ve been a smoker most of my life, so I guess my worst habit is that I’m too damn persistent to give up on anything.

16. Do you look up to anyone at all?

Well, my husband is the only human Spectre. Pretty cool gig, right? Very inspiring of him.

...I think Captain Anderson was the first person whose respect I honestly wanted to earn. That was near twenty years ago, and... that hasn’t changed.

17. Are you gay, straight or bisexual?

I’m gay. If you’re trying to ask me out, formal inquires can be sent to General Kaidan Alenko, c/o the Garneau Academy of Biotics, Vancouver--

Kiddos, if you’re reading this ten years from now, that was a joke. Also, don’t you have anything better to do than read old interviews about your dad? Finish your homework.

18. Do you go to school?

I’m self-taught with most things. That sounds more respectable than a straight “no,” doesn’t it? I guess this is where I would I say I went to the school of hard knocks, if I was someone who wasn’t funny. Got some pretty remedial tutoring when I joined the Alliance, but that’s about it, unless you count ICT -- which, actually, yeah, I think ICT should count.

19. Ever want to marry and have any kids one day?

I already did. Didn’t think I would, honestly, but here I am. Life takes you weirder places than you’re even capable of imagining.

20. Do you have any fangirls/fanboys?

There’ve been a few. I appreciate the sentiment, but... heh, actually, no, I don’t.

21. What are you most afraid of?

I think the benefit of having survived a major war is that we have the option to not let fear run our lives anymore. That being said, I’m afraid of the usual mundane stuff. I don’t think it’s very interesting to hash out.

22. What do you usually wear?

I think I dress pretty practically. Durable clothing is great if you’re in the military or are just being assaulted by two toddlers daily. And if you buy everything in monochrome it always matches... Kaidan’s mom really hates that.

23. What one food tempts you?

Anything spicy. Spicy noodles. There’s this great noodle stand on the Citadel we still eat at, but they’re not paying me for an endorsement and I don’t want people crowding me out, so you can figure out the name yourself. It’s the ultimate hangover cure. Not that I would know.

24. Am I annoying you?

Yes, but luckily I’m too polite to say anything.

25. Well, it’s still not over!

I’ve got a hungry dog at home, you know. And two children.

26. What class are you (low/middle/high)?

I spent the first part of my life totally penniless, so it’s weird to say I’m towards the higher end now. It is something I try to be mindful and make good use of... it’s just nice not to have to worry about feeding or clothing my kids. Beyond that, a lot of it goes to various charitable causes. And, well, my husband’s hair gel budget.

27. How many friends do you have?

Too damn many, honestly. You ever tried hosting a party for dozens of people with dextro/levo options, biotic-proof furniture, and enough room for multiple krogan? It’s not easy!

28. What are your thoughts on pie?

You haven’t lived until you’ve tried Mom’s--Kaidan’s mom’s--apple pie. But luckily I married her son and not you.

29. Favourite drink?

Coffee and red wine. Water. Whiskey isn’t bad either.

30. What’s your favorite place?

I’m boring now, so I’ve come to appreciate quiet places and being alone. Well, alone with my family, but they don’t count.

31. Are you interested in anyone?

I would not voluntarily wear a three-piece tuxedo and invite a bunch of people to gawk at me telling a guy I love him unless I was really, really interested.

32. That was a stupid question…

Just a bit, yeah.

33. Would you rather swim in the lake or the ocean?

There’s something about lakes that still kind of skeeve me out. I’m a city boy, so I always feel like I’m going to step on a leech or something. The ocean is nice, though, I grew up on the water. You couldn’t swim in it unless you wanted radiation poisoning, of course, but it was nice to look at. The beaches here on the west coast are pretty fun and not majorly toxic as far as I’m aware.

34. What’s your type?

I guess I’ve always dug the tall dark and handsome thing. Don’t tell Kaidan that, he’s obnoxious enough already.

35. Any fetishes?

Nothing I could talk about in an article my kids might read one day while avoiding their homework.

36. Camping indoors or outdoors?

I don’t think camping “indoors” is really a thing. That’s just staying in a house. Come on, don’t say you’re going camping if you’re going to be a lazy [redacted] about it.

#oc: ari shepard #mshenko

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izumitate · 6 years ago

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don’t linger

So, I was trying to write something sad, but jury’s out on whether it worked, haha. This one is for my favorite angst queen @audriel89 !

Content warnings: this one’s about ghosts, so there’s referenced character death.

“Hey, Kuroo. Nice hat,” Sawamura says, wearing the same beautifully wry smile as he did when he was still alive.

“Thanks, it was a gift,” Kuroo replies numbly, reaching up to grip the brim of his hideous tiger stripe cap. Yamamoto had given it to him as a present a couple of years ago, and now he wears it when he ducks out of the apartment on rainy days for a short errand and doesn’t want to carry an umbrella. It protects his head well enough, but he can still feel the light patter of rain on his shoulders. The sound of droplets rustling against the plastic bag in his hand reminds him that he only stepped out to grab a bottled milk tea and box lunch for tomorrow, because he knows he won’t have the time to stop by during his rush for the train. There weren’t supposed to be any ghosts included in this little excursion.

“It keeps your hair in check, in any case,” Sawamura says. He gestures with one pale, translucent hand at Kuroo’s forehead. It’s dark all along this road, but for the beaming lights of the konbini storefront and Sawamura, glowing like moonlight. Still as young and handsome as Kuroo remembered, just a bit more ethereal now. A bit less grounded.

“Yeah, but it makes the cowlicks worse when I take it off.” Kuroo’s voice is steady, to his surprise.

“I didn’t think that was possible.”

“A limitation of your imagination, Sa’amura-san.”

“I suppose so.”

“So,” Kuroo says, dragging out the word. “This is new! Taking a little postmortem stroll around Japan? Where have you been so far? See anything good?”

Maybe if he acts like this is normal, things will make sense again and his brain won’t shatter. Or he’ll just go insane that much faster.

Sawamura shakes his head, amused by Kuroo’s valiant attempt at nonchalance. He floats a little closer; Kuroo wants to reach out and touch him. “Not really. You were my first stop; I thought it might be fun to visit you.”

Kuroo blinks. “At two in the morning?”

“Sorry, is this an inconvenient time for you? Should we reschedule this haunting for a little later?”

Kuroo laughs at the unimpressed look Sawamura sends his way. Still so sassy, even as a ghost.

God, what are they doing here? Is this even real? Or did Kuroo trip on his way down the stairs and fall into a coma without knowing it? Is there any explanation more logical than the conclusions he’s jumping to?

“Is that what’s happening? You’re haunting me? That’s a bit unfair. What’d I ever do to you, Sawamura?”

Sawamura grins back, floating all the way over to hover by Kuroo’s side as he begins walking back to his apartment. If they’re going to have a conversation, might as well do it somewhere warm and comfortable. Kuroo doesn’t explain where they’re headed, but Sawamura doesn’t ask, content to just go along with it. Even in the past it had always felt natural to fall into step with one another. No need to waste words when they somehow knew how to read each other’s body language fluently enough to translate without thinking.

“What didn’t you do to me, is the real question. I have a whole list of complaints, Kuroo. It’s why I came so early in the morning; it’s gonna take me until at least breakfast to get through all of them.”

“I hope you’re not expecting me to cook for you, too. I only have one egg.”

“And you’re not offering it to your guest? I didn’t take you for the stingy type.”

“Take pity on me,” Kuroo whines. “I’ve got tests to grade and and club activities tomorrow. I need the energy. Which reminds me, I’m also hoping you don’t expect me to stay up all night. I have to wake up in a few hours.”

“You’re so high-maintenance,” Sawamura jokes as they ascend the stairs to Kuroo’s place. “I should’ve chosen an easier target. But seriously, you can sleep first if you want. I’ll still be here in the morning.”

Kuroo gets to putting his purchases away once he lets himself inside, while Sawamura peeks curiously around his not-very-interesting apartment. Sawamura seems preoccupied with the photographs on Kuroo’s wall, so Kuroo leaves him be for a moment to go change back into his pajamas.

“Are you saying you’re going to watch me sleep?” Kuroo asks while Sawamura scans his bookshelf. Sawamura turns to see Kuroo vigorously brushing his teeth, and shakes his head.

“Not unless you want me to,” he says with a laugh, and then floats over to the window. “Go to sleep, Kuroo. I’ll be back tomorrow; we’ll talk then.” His form grows thin as he passes through the glass and then Kuroo is left standing alone in his apartment with toothpaste froth on his mouth, wondering if he just had a really weird fever dream. Because, what? Just happened?

Kuroo shuffles blankly back to bed and slides under the covers. There are too many words forming into too many half-woven questions; they tumble around his brain without direction. For some time he just lies there, staring at the ceiling and the dark, until an uneasy sleep overtakes him.

True to his word, Sawamura is back five hours later when Kuroo is packing up his bag for the day.

“You came back,” Kuroo says as he watches Sawamura fall back into place beside him, like it’s natural to belong there. It doesn’t feel as wrong as it should. Kuroo may have grown too accepting in recent years.

“Of course I did; what kind of ghost haunts someone for just twenty minutes?”

“I did think it was kind of a letdown, but it felt rude to mention it.”

“And everyone knows that you’re never rude, right?” Sawamura teases as they walk to the train. Kuroo has headphones in – the kind that also function as a microphone, so that he at least looks like he could be talking to someone on the phone. The train is crowded this morning, so Sawamura floats up to sit atop the baggage rack, to avoid phasing through anyone. Kuroo stands facing up toward him, gripping a hand strap and pretending to look at the screen announcing the next stop, but their eyes keep catching on one another’s, and they exchange sheepish smiles.

When most of the morning crowd clears out, they move over to an empty corner so Sawamura can stop perching like a cat about to strike.

“So, are you back on unfinished business?” Kuroo asks, like they’re discussing weekend plans. He’s seated, looking up toward Sawamura, who shifts out of people’s way as if he still has solid mass. He still smiles at children and the elderly like they can see him. But sometimes Kuroo catches him watching people with a certain intensity that feels unfamiliar. Maybe being dead makes the world look a little different.

Sawamura returns his attention to Kuroo. His hand is resting against the wall as if to brace himself and Kuroo has to wonder absently about how the laws of physics apply to spirits. “Mm, I wouldn’t quite put it that way. I’m just here to hang out for the day.”

“Did- um. Did you want to see something in particular? I have work today, but we could go somewhere afterwards.”

“No, I didn’t come expecting you to provide entertainment. I just thought I’d drop in and see what you get up to these days. If that’s okay?” He looks momentarily lost, and Kuroo quickly shakes his head.

“Yeah, you know I’m always up for fun. I gotta tell you, it’ll probably be kinda boring for you, but if you don’t mind chilling out and making fun of my students, then let’s do it.”

“Let’s do it,” Sawamura echoes, with the same brightness in his eyes Kuroo remembers from across the court. Phoenix fire and marble.

Behind and through him, the world blurs green and powder blue outside the train window. It’s a beautiful day.

Kuroo’s homeroom class is rowdy and clever and terribly annoying this morning. It takes a while to get them settled, and by the time he leaves them for his first class, Sawamura already knows them too well.

“You knew what you were signing up for when you became a teacher, right? Was corralling your team not enough for you?” Sawamura asks during his free period. Kuroo just spent the last hour going over last week’s test and listening to a whole lot of groaning. He’s marking more exams now as he sips his milk tea; Sawamura leans against his desk and looks around at the other teachers too busy to pay mind to Kuroo basically talking to himself.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about; Nekoma was team of pure, good-hearted angels. Now, if I’d been in your shoes, then I probably wouldn’t have wound up here.”

“Oh, you would’ve gotten a handle on them eventually. Just like you’ve got these ones under your wing. I have to say, you’re a lot better at this than I expected.”

“Thank you a million times over for your faith in me,” Kuroo says dryly. “What do you think Amagi wrote here? An eight? An ugly five?”

“Looks like a five to me,” Sawamura says. “Give her the full points.”

“You’re too soft,” Kuroo tsks, and they finish grading in this same manner for the rest of the period.

Kuroo doesn’t wonder at the fact that no one else in the school can see Sawamura. He assumes it’s because Sawamura has no ties to anyone else here, or that it’s because of some other ghost business that Kuroo doesn’t understand. Sawamura does accidentally float through another teacher at one point, and she sneezes right afterward.

They spend lunch outside, watching students milling around in little clusters. Somehow it feels easy to be together like this, despite all the oddities of the situation. Sawamura asks after all the old group, and Kuroo tells him everything he knows, though he has to apologize for not keeping up as much with all the ex-Karasuno members. Sawamura just laughs, telling him that knowing anything at all is more than he really expected.

“Do you have any good tricks?” They’re watching a crowd of kids exchanging flirtatious banter, and it makes Kuroo want to play a prank on them.

“What am I, a dog?”

“I’m just saying, ghosts usually have some fun powers. Like telekinesis.”

“Nope, I’ve got nothing.”

“Boring,” Kuroo says with a pout, and Sawamura rolls his eyes, floating backwards until he’s hanging upside next to Kuroo’s head.

“Yeah. I went to the afterlife and all I got was this lousy intangibility,” he says, and Kuroo feels suddenly guilty. Sawamura is literally dead and here Kuroo is, making a stupid joke about it.

“Shit, that was insensitive. I’m really sorry.”

“It’s okay, I’ve gotten pretty used to being dead. Don’t feel too bad. C’mon, tell me which of your kids is the most likely to embarrass themself in the next five minutes.”

Kuroo gladly latches on to the change in subject. “Oh, definitely Sakurai. Watch, when he goes over to Kanda…”

The day is uneventful as far as school days go, but Sawamura never seems bored, even when he keeps relearning the same math lesson over and over. By club time he seems even livelier, floating around in amusement as Kuroo oversees the Exercise Club. The small group of students are doing stretches and jumping rope in the yard.

“Before you ask, yes, we do play volleyball sometimes. I put up a net outside when the weather is good.”

“Do you ever play?”

“Yeah, but not for long because they start complaining about uneven teams,” Kuroo says, keeping an eye on a girl chasing her friend around with her jump rope.

“Play six on two. That would even things out.”

“Too much, maybe. I’m not that fit anymore.”

“You still look pretty good to me,” Sawamura says with straight-forward honesty. Kuroo’s heart skips a beat until he follows it up with, “I mean, your face is what it is, can’t do anything about that, but the rest isn’t bad.” He gestures broadly at Kuroo’s body.

“I see you haven’t gotten any more charming since I last saw you,” Kuroo snarks back, and Sawamura laughs. He looks like he wants to bump his shoulder against Kuroo’s, but they both know it’ll just be a reminder that this can’t last.

“It’s hard enough for people to change as it is; us dead guys are totally stuck in our ways.”

After club wraps up, Kuroo returns to his desk to send out a few emails before calling it a day. They’re standing at the train station again, waiting to return home when Kuroo thinks to ask, “Are you sure you don’t want to go do something? Normally I just go home and crash on my couch after dinner, but it’s Friday evening, and you’re in town.”

“Are you saying you wanna go out?”

“I mean, it seems like a waste for you to come all this way just to watch dumb reality tv with me while we eat takeout. Uh- while I eat takeout.”

Sawamura shrugs. “To be honest, that plan sounds just fine to me. But maybe you’re right. I only have twenty-four hours. I should probably make them count.”

Twenty-four hours? Kuroo wasn’t aware of this.

“Is that when you have to go back? To the, uh,” he makes a sweeping motion with his arm and probably makes everyone in the vicinity want to avoid him, “the great beyond?”

“Yeah, I could only afford a one day pass,” Sawamura says like he’s joking, but Kuroo’s chest seizes painfully anyway. If he had known, he wouldn’t have kept Sawamura here, hanging around aimlessly instead of using his time for better things. Before he can get all tangled up in guilt, Sawamura puts his hands in his pockets and asks, “So what should we go do?”

Kuroo had found it a not-unwelcome change to return to the countryside once he graduated from college. The slower pace of life, the abundance of nature everywhere, the wide open spaces and quaint houses tucked among the foliage. He kept his house closer to the town center, preferring to commute over to his school, and it’s worked out well enough for him so far. The downside is most places of interest are at least a few train stops away. He thinks for a moment about where they could go on such short notice, where Sawamura might actually enjoy himself.

“We’re close to the water,” Kuroo finally offers. “It’s a little cold this time of year, but the shore is pretty nice.”

Sawamura doesn’t take more than a second to think about it. “The beach? Sure, why not. Take me to the beach.”

They have to ride into the main station before changing lines, and by the time they make it to the ocean, it’s early evening and the sun is starting its descent. There are few people around; the April weather is pleasant but growing rapidly cool now that the day is coming to a close. It leaves Kuroo space to openly talk to Sawamura without looking too strange – insofar as a man alone at a beach is ever strange.

“Do you swim?” Sawamura asks as they walk along the shoreline. His not-quite-there feet swish through the water that crashes gently against the white sand. The foam tickles at Kuroo’s bare feet, and he hops a step further from the water. It’s a touch too cool for his skin.

“Yeah, though it’s been a while. I used to go on beach trips with Kenma’s family all the time when we were kids. We’d have matching floaties,” he says with a laugh as he remembers the time Kenma got a sunburn on his shoulders and was cranky for weeks.

“I can see that. You used to splash him while he was huddling on the beach, I bet.”

“You know it. Were you a swimmer?”

“Not really, but now that I can’t do it, I feel like I miss it? That’s how it goes, I guess.”

“Well, I’ll swim twice as hard next time; you can live vicariously through me.”

Sawamura shakes his head with a smile. “Sure, you do that.”

After walking to the cliffside, Kuroo jogs back the way they came, trying to beat Sawamura back to his shoes, but ghosts can fly surprisingly fast. He collapses into the sand afterward, wheezing as Sawamura laughs at him. Since neither of them are equipped to go swimming today, Kuroo settles for making a damp, slouchy sandcastle as they talk about the current Nekoma team under Coach Naoi’s instruction.

The sun is near the horizon now, a deep molten core streaking the indigo waves with gold. Sawamura sits across from Kuroo so that the sunset shines through him, and Kuroo’s words stick in his throat for a moment when he notices.

He’d never gone to the beach with Sawamura while he was alive. There was never time, just like there was never time for any of the other thousand things Kuroo regrets not taking a chance on. Taking that art class in university. Going skydiving with Bokuto. Asking Sawamura out for a drink.

It isn’t like Kuroo had burned for Sawamura. Or tore up flowers and sheet music and journal pages trying to capture some fraction of the feelings he felt for him. Nothing ever so far-reaching or soul-wrenching.

But he had always thought that perhaps there was a greater than zero chance they might someday find their way to each other. Two lines not quite parallel, that might meet somewhere down the road, once they’d stretched far enough in the same direction. Sawamura had occupied a place in Kuroo’s life that no one else could fill – some cross of friend, rival, and if-only.

It was fondness folded into a summer daydream: wispy and weightless, with no expectations, but a whole quiet world of possibilities. And then all those possibilities came to an abrupt halt, and that was that.

Sawamura had never been his to lose. But Kuroo had hurt, nonetheless.

“Kuroo, help me dig up that little thing right there,” Sawamura says, interrupting Kuroo’s spiraling thoughts. His translucent hands comb against a shining patch of sand.

“Here?” Kuroo crouches down and scrapes his fingers through the spot Sawamura was just touching. He unearths a chunk of green sea glass the size of a stamp, and rubs it clean of sand. “Oh, nice find!”

It’s a lovely mossy color, frosted and worn soft to the touch. Sawamura runs a pale fingertip over the surface and then withdraws, floating a few feet into the air.

“Sorry, I can’t buy you anything, so that’ll have to do for a souvenir of our trip.”

“That’s more than good enough for me,” Kuroo says, finding himself stricken by the expression on Sawamura’s face.

He looks like he’s at peace, smiling at Kuroo with the same fondness he’s seen directed at Hinata or Suga or Tsukki. The sea glimmers dark like gold-embroidered velvet through him, but he looks and sounds so heartbreakingly familiar in this moment that Kuroo thinks he could forget about the last five years if he were to close his eyes.

Forget the way his heart stopped cold when he first heard the news. Forget how serious and still Sawamura’s face had looked in his memorial portrait. Forget how he had ached, sitting there with Kenma as they watched Hinata on the international court, knowing that there was someone who would never get to feel that pride when looking down at the court.

It’s past six p.m. now. Kuroo only has Sawamura again for today. This short, unsatisfactory slice of time. Eight hours left, and Kuroo doesn’t know how he’s going to say goodbye at the end of it.

It’s a quiet ride home, and then Kuroo brings them to a hole-in-the-wall yakitori place where he likes to grab a bite to eat after long days at work. They get a tiny booth to themselves, and Sawamura watches with patient amusement as Kuroo eats.

“What food do you miss most?” Kuroo asks, because he always loses track of his tact when he’s tipsy, and because Sawamura has proven to be awfully nonchalant about no longer existing.

“Actually, I think it might be yakiniku. Part of it probably has to do with the atmosphere; y’know, sitting around a table with your friends, fighting over the last piece of beef.”

Kuroo can see it, especially after that last day of training camp. God, they’d been so young then. Even now, he can imagine how it would be: Sawamura, crowded in his seat up between Azumane and Suga, arguing with Bokuto over the next piece of meat, making sure the pork is cooked just the way Kuroo likes it.

Kuroo waves his skewer in the air like an addled conductor. “Next time…the next time we do yakiniku, I’ll put a plate aside for you. I’ll even buy you a drink,” he promises drunkenly. “Come back and join us.”

“Well, I can’t say no if you’re going to be so generous.” Sawamura rests his chin in his hand, watching Kuroo with undivided attention. With the smoke in the air and the lights gleaming dimly against the wooden walls, the space feels suddenly intimate, and Kuroo takes another deep swig from his beer.

What if he had asked, one of those dozens of times he wanted to? Would they be sitting in a restaurant together on a night much like this one, laughing at each other’s jokes and flirting lightly as they wait for the check? Would Kuroo finally know more of Sawamura’s touch, beside those fleeting handshakes and hugs shared over the years?

Could Kuroo have changed the path of Sawamura’s life? Or do all roads lead to the same destination – with Kuroo mourning Sawamura as a lover instead of a friend?

There are no answers at the bottom of his bottle, but he drinks as if there are. Sawamura doesn’t comment, but he does pull the conversation back toward easier matters: Kenma’s promotion, Kai’s wedding, Yaku’s visit last month. Kuroo focuses on telling the best stories he can, because he thinks that if his mouth stops moving he’ll fixate on how Sawamura’s hand always rests close enough to touch, but never close enough to feel.

It’s approaching midnight when they leave the restaurant, and Kuroo takes Sawamura on the meandering path home. There’s a small park near his apartment block, and Sawamura insists that he take a seat on the bench for a moment to find his balance when he almost trips on the sidewalk.

“C’mon, I thought you could hold your liquor better than that.”

“ ‘m not even drunk anymore,” Kuroo grumbles. He slumps down, legs outstretched, and lets his head loll back. “I just get a little clumsy when I’m tired these days.”

“I don’t believe it,” Sawamura says brightly. “Not with those reflexes of yours.”

“Hey, lay off, I’m getting old!”

“You’re still in your twenties; don’t act like such a geezer.”

Kuroo pulls a face. “Not for long, I’m not. I’ll be using a cane soon. You’ll see.”

“Don’t be in such a rush to grow old. You’ll get there eventually.” Sawamura, seated on the bench beside him, floats up a few inches so he can reach out as if to brush Kuroo’s fringe out of his eyes. Of course, he only passes through Kuroo’s face like a winter breeze, but Kuroo gives him a watery smile back anyway. This is a tenderness neither of them is used to, but it feels like it’s been overdue. If only for tonight.

“Yeah, I’ll sit outside my house and yell at my grandkids’ friends when they come around.”

“At least offer them some snacks, you jerk.”

Above, the stars are brighter than they ever were in Tokyo, and Kuroo wonders if this is the sky that Sawamura used to see, looking out his window as they reached for the same dream. It’s easy to waste another hour just talking to Sawamura like this, because this is the relationship they always had, in those scant moments they shared together over the course of their friendship. Sawamura wasn’t lying when he said he just wanted to visit: it’s like he’s been dropped back into Kuroo’s life after a long trip abroad. If Kuroo were a little more idealistic, he would hope for another day like this, another chance to catch up a few years down the line.

But something in the core of his heart tells him this isn’t an ordinary occasion.

It’s a quarter to two when they finally reach the main street that leads back to his apartment. They pass by the konbini silently, and then the criss-crossing little residential streets until they’re standing only meters away from Kuroo’s building. Kuroo’s never been an expert on the supernatural, but he can feel the space around Sawamura growing blurred, like it wants to pull him back across the veil. He’s about to make an ill-timed joke about it when Sawamura stops them in their tracks and turns to look Kuroo in the eyes.

“Thanks for spending the day with me, Kuroo. I had a lot of fun.”

There’s a heavy finality in his voice. It fills Kuroo’s lungs with lead.

The alcohol is wearing off, but enough of that liquid bravery, like magma in Kuroo’s stomach, remains that he wants to say something stupid in response.

I mourned you.

I grieved for something I wasn’t even sure I understood. A lingering promise, a missed chance. A dream that faded before I could wake.

...I think I could have loved you.

But there are only a few fleeting minutes until Sawamura has to depart, so Kuroo will be civil. Kuroo will be kind, to both Sawamura and himself.

He intends to just accept Sawamura’s gratitude, but one question sticks in his mind so persistently that he’s asking before he can find the self-restraint to stop.

“Sawamura. Why did you- why come and see me? I know there are so many people who would’ve given- who would be delighted to see you one last time. So why choose me?”

Sawamura pauses, his mouth slightly parted as if to speak, before his expression shifts.

Years ago, lifetimes ago, there had been a morning in Tokyo, misty and gray, when Sawamura had stumbled into Kuroo’s corner of town and they spent a handful of hours together before he was expected at the airport. They’d done nothing exciting, but Kuroo will never forget it, if only because of the expression that Sawamura wore while they were waiting for the bus as the fog lay thick around them, blocking out the rest of the world.

Kuroo had long gotten used to being admired, or glared at, or sized up as an opponent. He’d seen all three cross Sawamura’s face in the past, though usually he met Kuroo with either amusement or teasing exasperation. In that moment, however, it had been something wholly new. Something Kuroo wasn’t sure he was reading correctly.

Sawamura was watching Kuroo like he wasn’t sure he was real, those dark eyes wide and wondrous. As if Kuroo was something special to behold, something not quite within reach. It only lasted a second, before Sawamura shook himself out of it and gave Kuroo that sly grin that he knew so well. But Kuroo could never get that sight out his head, letting it haunt him in sleepless hours.

It’s how Sawamura looks at him now.

“I just wanted to see you, I guess,” Sawamura says, eyes soft. After a second, he laughs quietly and ducks his head, in a gesture that feels painfully true to life. When he looks up again, his gaze is clear and focused, the way it always was on court. The way Kuroo remembers him best. “I wanted to catch up with an old friend. So, thank you. Maybe we can do this again sometime.”

They both know that they can’t.

Kuroo swallows, and it hurts his dry throat. “Y-yeah, of course. Just, uh, drop by or whatever. You know where to find me.”

“I do,” Sawamura says, laughing once more. Kuroo’s heart aches.

He wants to say something to prolong the moment, but if there’s anything he’s learned over the last day, it’s that any chance they had has long since been lost. Regret lies heavy in his bloodstream and his breath comes short when he inhales. Kuroo is pushing thirty now, settled in his life and happy about where he’s headed, and Sawamura?

Sawamura will never look a day past twenty-four.

Kuroo clenches his right hand, trying to remember how Sawamura’s palm felt against his, calloused and strong and searing. But nothing remains except the faintest sense memory.

He extends his hand regardless, knowing it can’t be the same.

“Goodnight, Sawamura.”

When Sawamura’s fingers brush against Kuroo’s palm, a chill runs through his skin and he tries to close his hand around the flesh that isn’t there. He gets a rueful look in return as the other man withdraws.

“This is where I tell you I won’t lose again, isn’t it?”

“And where I tell you we’d be happy to take you on again any time,” Kuroo agrees quietly.

“I think that rematch will have to wait.” And Kuroo can see his outline going threadbare.

Sawamura lifts his hand back into a wave, slipping backwards toward the light of the street lamp. The honey glow of the lamp intersects briefly with Sawamura’s own light, painting him angelic gold for a second, and for just this moment, with the veil of reality pulled thin, Kuroo can see the yearning clear as daybreak written in Sawamura’s eyes. Like a perfect mirror image to Kuroo’s own.

It’s instinct to step forward, reaching out toward Sawamura to try and touch him, to catch him before Kuroo can lose him, yet again, but already the distance is too wide. Sawamura smiles, even as he fades.

“Goodbye, Kuroo.”

And he’s gone.

Kuroo stares for a minute longer, willing the streetlight to shimmer and reveal Sawamura’s ghostly form again, but there’s nobody here on this road except Kuroo and a few sedate cars passing through. The whole world is quiet, giving him a moment of silence to find his breath, steady his heart.

The spring air embraces Kuroo with cold familiarity as he begins slowly walking up the stairs home, alone again. Above as below, the world spins on, once more without Sawamura. Kuroo unlocks his door, but stands there in the threshold for a long moment, just looking in. Finally, he takes a deep breath and steps inside.

It’s late. He should go to sleep, and wake early to greet the new day. Maybe tomorrow he’ll go for a swim.

#kurodai #kuroo tetsurou #sawamura daichi #haikyuu!!#HQ fic #ghosts #future fic #my fic

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catradora-stan · 6 years ago

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i kinda wrote some widowtracer fanfic for the first time so im gonna post it here. give me some feedback if you want.

She was about two seconds away from murdering her. But then again, she always was. Lena’s incessant bantering had plagued her for far too long. On many occasions it almost drove her to a premature completion her task. The day would come when her orders were given but for now she was required to deal with the annoying, British imbecile.

“Hey now, look. I’m not saying that you can’t do what you love as a profession, but trying to make money from playing video games is pretty dumb.” The girl gave Amelie a cocky look that dared her to challenge.

She glanced over where Lena was sitting, and gave her most evil glare. “I make money by being here. Therefore I am making money playing video games. Now do shut up.” She had to focus on the enemy in front of her. She couldn’t risk losing the match. This was her first tournament where victory meant she could win real compensation. She flicked her arm and clicked on the mouse while mashing buttons on the keyboard. Another clean headshot.

Lena let out a groan and started rapping her fingers against the wall. Over the course of a week Amelie learned how hard it was for her to sit still and be quiet. The annoyance was like a high maintenance puppy; she requires constant attention if you don’t want to deal with her getting into trouble. Amelie had never owned a dog. She wasn’t for the idea of having something that cannot help itself.

Yet here she was, a trained assassin, forced into this highly undesirable mission because she was still a newcomer in her field. One day she would work her way up the ranks until she was the one giving orders. The schmuck that continued to underestimate her and give her these horrid assignments would find himself employed at K-Mart. Or dead. One of the two. Retail jobs and death are about equivalent. The notion made her grin as she picked off another enemy in her game.

For now she had to deal. She had originally been stationed as Lena’s bodyguard while her father was away doing business. He had been in close company with her organization for years doing whatever it was he did. Something with weapons. She didn't know the specifics, and why would they tell a grunt like her? All she knew was that while he was away plans had changed. He apparently failed to deliver what he promised, and if the deadline were to expire then her orders were to take out the girl. He had only a couple of weeks. Good enough incentive to get him going. He seemed like a nice guy who cared about the girl; enough to get in trouble with one of the most dangerous group of criminals.

Of course Lena was unaware of the truth. Incidents like these had been a constant occurrence in her life. Her father had fed her lies about what he did so he would still look noble to his precious daughter. On the day he left he told her: “I have a very important job therefore I make lots of enemies. But don’t worry about me I have good people keeping me safe. The same people who will be keeping you safe while I’m away.” His words were a complete fabrication. And due to the abnormality of her father’s work life the girl never had a typical childhood. She was raised more so by nannies and bodyguards than by her father. He had been absent approximately eighty percent of her life. And her mother had been gone the whole eighteen years. Of course the only reason Amelie knew all of this was because the little parasite could never suppress her constant need to jabber.

So it was no surprise when Lena started singing. It was from some awful, dramatic musical she had been watching the other day.

Mon Dieu. Does she ever shut up?“Silence you leech!” Amelie was trying hard to focus on her game. It was a tie at the moment and she was desperately trying to fix that.

Lena paying no mind started to increase in volume. “DO YOU HEAR THE PEOPLE SING? SINGING THE SONGS OF ANGRY MEN!” She let out a chuckle in the middle of the song, knowing the frustration she was causing, before she started up again. “IT IS THE VOICES OF A PEOPLE WHO WILL NOT BE SLAVES AGAIN.”

Lena observed from her position as Amelie tried her hardest to concentrate. Her callous look intensified as Lena grinned. Then suddenly she saw the character on the screen die, which led Amelie to cry out in fury. She told her teammates through the headset to cover for her but it was too late. Everyone was dead. The enemy quickly captured the objective and in big bright letters the word Defeat spread across the screen.

That was when Amelie snapped. She rotated her chair away from the screen and towards Lena. A malicious grin splayed across her face as her hands hardened into fists. In a calm tone that did not match her demeanor she breathed, “I am going to kill you.”

That was all it took for Lena to sprint out of the office. Amelie pushed herself up out of her chair and quickly followed in pursuit. The girl had almost made it down the hallway when she slipped on the hardwood floor. Fuzzy socks were not good running shoes. The assassin was right there on her. Lena tried to scramble back onto her feet but it was too late. Amelie had pulled her up by the back of her shirt and slammed her against the wall.

The girl yelped in pain and looked up, terrified into Amelie’s murderous gaze. “You can’t kill me cause that’s like the opposite of your job.” She stammered. She tried to move but the assassin tightened her grip.

“Oh really? The opposite of my job? My job does not consist of dealing with your constant BS. I am not required to be your dumb little therapists and listen to your incessant, childish squealing.” She knew that her words were cutting into the girl like knives. With added venom she spat, “I am not your friend. I am only here to make sure that no one kills you.”

“No one is going to kill me! No one is ever gonna kill me!” Lena pushed her tormentor off of her and continued. “My father doesn’t even care about me and all he does is stick me with you people all the time. If he actually knew what I needed he would know that I don’t need to be babysat-”

“What do you not understand when I said that I don't care? Go plague someone else.” She turned and began walking back down the hallway towards her quarters.

“I don’t have anyone else to plague because no one lets me go anywhere or make any friends!”

“I DON’T CARE!” She slammed the door behind her making the valuables on the shelfs tremble. She threw herself onto the bed that did not belong to her. Being an assassin should not involve being a babysitter. The girl was a legal adult anyways. Amelie wanted to break something, someone, shatter a collarbone. The vase on the wall would have to do. She grabbed it from its home on the shelf. It was ornate, covered in the symbols of some ancient civilization and encrusted with gold. But it wasn’t in her hand for very long. She launched it as hard as she could at the adjacent wall, causing it to shatter, bringing great satisfaction to Amelie in her aggravated state. She had doubted that anyone would care about its absence, but sound of hurried footsteps indicated otherwise.

“What the hell was that?” Lena inquired through the door.

Amelie responded, “A metaphor.”

“What?”

“A Metaphor for what I will do to you if you keep messing with me, imbécile.”

“Hmm. I see. Your French voice is pretty.” Lena shuffled outside the door then leaned her back against it.

Are you joking? This job was an actual nightmare. Amelie tried to dwell on the hopes of promotion but that was difficult with Lena making noises outside her door. After about a minute had passed she asked, “Why are you still there?”

“Cause we’re friends.” Lena giggled, “You're just mad cause you’re bad.”

“First of all, no. Second of all, no. I lost because you are the world’s biggest annoyance. I would like nothing more than to end you.”

“It’s just a game bro.”

Amelie groaned into the expensive bed spread. This was going to be a long three weeks. She stealthily stood up and walked towards the door, careful to make sure that Lena wouldn’t notice. Then she reached out towards the handle and yanked the door open as quickly as she could. On queue Lena fell backwards, landing on her butt. She swore loudly then glared up at Amelie.

She looked down at the little disaster. “You’re just mad cause you’re bad.” She mocked.

It seemed as though the bothersome brit didn’t know how to respond to what had just happened. Lena just sat there quietly, with a contemplative look on her face.

Amelie went back to the bed and began looking at her phone, thinking that perhaps the matter had been settled. As long as Lena wasn’t making noise or bothering her she didn’t care what she did.

Eventually the girl on the floor spoke up. “You know, I have never had a bodyguard like you. You pretend to be impassive yet you are so easily moved to emotion. I guess that’s why it’s so fun to piss you off.”

The assassin acknowledged her with a grunt and pretended to be more interested in her phone.She knew that Lena would be the most interesting, yet deserving person she would kill, if it came to that. She might even regret murdering her. Might.

“The best part about it though is that now matter what, you don’t actually get to kill me.” Lena joked as she layed on the floor.

That’s what you think Chérie.

#WidowTracer #overwatch #widowmaker #tracer #amelie lacroix #lena oxton #widowtracer fic

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divinedeceptions-blog · 6 years ago

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The roof ridge walk

Quick note - I’ve posted this on my AO3 account as well so feel free to check that out. Also Im back from the dead hello.

Word count: 3978

Josie Pye had been very smug when she'd successfully walked the fence, glancing around at everybody in an extremely boastful manor. Anne had scoffed loudly, proclaiming that she'd know a girl who could walk the ridge pole of a building.

She'd felt an obligation to one-up Josie, and found great pleasure in watching her face twist and contort into sour expressions which made her look like she was sucking on a very bitter lemon. Anne had previously endured her not so subtle comments during class, biting back her rather insistent tongue and exchanging irritated glances with Diana. They weren’t an uncommon occurrence as it seemed Josie wasn’t the only one who enjoyed belittling Anne whenever the opportunity showed itself. Billy Andrews often had a very enjoyable time announcing that she was the ugliest dog he’d ever seen, and would then proceed to make barking sounds until he either got bored or Anne threatened to push him in the river.

So, naturally, when Josie Pye had told her explicitly that no one could do such a thing as walk a roof, and had very quickly dared her to do just that, Anne had of course jumped at the opportunity to wipe the smug grin off of her face and prove exactly what she was capable of.

A few groans and several gasps had spurred Anne on to confidently stride around the back of the school building and begin to ascend the ladder that was used for maintenance. She was only two rungs up when she heard calls from Ruby, Jane, Tillie and Diana telling her not to listen to Josie and come back down before she fell and hurt herself. Anne determinedly chose to ignore these, although she did tell Diana that if she did indeed fall to her most dramatic and possibly rather romantic death, she could have her green dress. This however didn't seem to comfort Diana at all.

She turned to grin down at Josie, admittedly wanting very much to gloat as much as she could, however Anne regretted it almost immediately and had the sudden realisation of how high up she really was. Her fingers curled harder around the rungs so that she wouldn’t loose her balance. The roof looked far taller from up there than it did on the ground.

For a few short seconds, she considered feigning illness and climbing right back down, hoping that that would be a plausible excuse and no one would mention the incident again. But she was already half way up the ladder and she'd come to the conclusion that she'd rather fall than loose all pride and dignity if she didn't pull through with her plans. With a solemn and heavy heart, she continued to climb up, rung by rung and step by step, a tingly nervous feeling pulsing in her hands and feet at the anticipation.

The ladder was slightly slippery, and Anne had trouble keeping her grip as she climbed higher and higher to the brim of the rooftop, her hands clawing at the tiles to find a grip for her to hold onto. Once she had, she heaved herself onto the roof so that her stomach lay flat on the cold surface. She could still hear the shouts and pleads from the others to come back down, but she blocked them out hastily, steadying her balance and attempting to stand up. Anne nearly slipped in doing so, holding onto the roof ridge to keep herself from falling off.

She took the time to glance around at her surroundings, making sure her eyes didn’t linger on the ground for more than a second. Her gaze had been caught on the edge of the hills, a thin strip of light brushing the silhouetted trees. For a short moment, she forgot exactly what she was doing and watched as the sun poured gold onto horizon. She was sure she could see all of Avonlea, small houses speckled around the land and the church steeple just peeking over the hills. Grinning, she felt a sudden surge of confidence at the sight, feeling as though she were the Queen, the fair and noble ruler of all land as far as the eye could see. The wind almost seemed colder up here then it did on the ground, and as Anne began to stand up again, she felt courageous and brave, as if leading on her mighty army to conquer whoever dared to harm her people.

And then reality kicked back in as she took her first step, although she maintained a steady balance her feet felt as though they could slip at any moment on the thin surface. Why did it look higher up than it did on the ground? Anne tried to focus her attention on the spot at the end, mentally counting down how many steps it would take for her to reach her goal. There was silence below her as each person held their breath. Billy had a rather nasty smile on his face, Josie seemed to be looking rather worried now that she knew the extent of what she had made Anne do, perhaps she would get in trouble if she fell. Gilbert hadn't kept his eyes off of her, trying very hard to fight the urge to shout out encouragement in fear that it would distract her and she'd fall. Diana was very close to tears, screwing up her lace handkerchief in one hand and clinging onto Ruby with the other.

Anne had made it half way across the ridge pole, a smile beginning to itch at her lips as she led her army on through the raging fires and battling winds, a purple storm stirring ominously above. When all of a sudden, her knights and soldiers had fallen away through the cracks, her stormy skies and billowing winds sucked dry from her imagination as her feet left the roof and she came tumbling and spinning down the side of the school building. It felt as though she'd been swept beneath the waves of a roaring sea, being twirled and turned by the relentless currents trying to pull her further and further down into the watery abyss.

Then she hit something. The ground she assumed. It was a very strange feeling because at first, Anne felt totally fine, slightly dazed at the most but other than that, she felt perfectly alright. Then she realised she couldn't hear very well, and there was a queer ringing in her right ear which made her feel very fuzzy. When Anne tried to open her eyes, there were about 10 blurry people who all looked like they had multiple heads sprouting from the necks, crowding around her. Everything seemed to be spinning as though someone had spun the earth like a spinning top and sent it hurtling through infinity.

"Anne!" Someone was shouting her name, and although the ringing had started to grow quieter she still couldn't make out who it was.

"Anne!" Her hands began to stroke the soft grass, it was a bit cold and rather wet but it felt nice. She'd never really fully appreciated its beauty, and she almost felt a bit guilty for leaving it out.

"Anne!" Then a very recognisable head popped in front of her face and she began to focus on what they were saying and who they were. Diana had firmly gripped onto Anne's shoulders, curls of hair falling out of its neat bow and sticking to her face. She still looked very beautiful and Anne almost felt like laughing at such a vain thing to think of whilst she seemed to be in quite the state of despair. Marilla would’ve scolded her at the thought.

“Are you alright Anne?” She seemed to be crying. “I think I’m unconscious Diana”, and Diana then let out a huge breath and allowed a smile to peak through her lips. Anne tried to sit up but another, much deeper voice told her to stay still for a moment. She tilted her head up slightly to see who it was, her eyes laying on a very concentrated Gilbert who was examining her very swollen looking ankle. Anne though it was a bit strange that she couldn’t feel anything wrong with her ankle despite the fact that it was a vivid shade of red and purple, and it appeared to have doubled in size.

“I think you’ve broken it” Gilbert grimaced, shooting a reassuring smile her way.

Anne stared at him. “Broken?!” She said with a bit too much enthusiasm “but that’ll take far too long to heal!”.

Her head seemed to be clearing and her ankle began to throb, a slightly nauseated feeling building in her stomach. Gilbert ignored her, taking her under the arm and slowly helping her stand up. Diana was staring through very red looking eyes as the other children began to disperse and whisper to each other.

“Diana can you please let Miss Stacy know that I’ve gone to help Anne home as she’s broken broken her ankle and needs assistance walking” Gilbert spoke aloud, sounding very professional and business like. Diana protested mildly, saying that she didn’t mind taking Anne herself. But Gilbert shook his head with a smile in response and swung Anne’s arm around his shoulder, holding onto her wrist to support her.

Anne, who was having a hard time trying not to enjoy the physical contact, tried to focus on the pain of her ankle as that seemed like a much better thing to do than admit any type of feelings regarding Gilbert. It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried to supress them. She’d been doing a very good job at it actually, and for a short while, she even concluded that they’d once and for all disappeared. Although when summer came back around and Gibert had turned up to school with eyes suddenly looking extremely green, hair looking extremely dark and curly, and a grin that could make anyone swoon, Anne had realised that she might have to try a bit harder.

Anne inhaled at the thought, drawing Gilbert’s attention who now had that very stupidly attractive grin on his face. His fingers were still clutched around her wrist, not quite daring to go any further down as his other hand hung onto the top of her waist gently, in fear of it seeming invasive. “You feeling alright? You haven’t said a word to me since we left” he joked, limping towards the forest and out of sight of the school.

“Fine” she replied rather quickly, her breathing slightly heavier than normal.

“I can take another look at if you lik-", “No no! Its fine- im fine, dont worry, just keep going” Gilbert frowned inwardly, but consequently decided that it was best not to try and persuade her. He knew as well as anybody that she had a temper to match her hair, and shortly concluded that he did indeed enjoy being liked by Anne, so he didn't push the topic any further.

Then a silence fell between them like the first leaves of autumn, rich and serene in the subtle hues of sunlight streaming through the canopy of branches above. Gilbert thought that he quite enjoyed being with Anne, even when she wasn't talking. He'd occasionally make short glances in her direction to see if she was okay, secretly enjoying the feeling of his skin on hers. Anne also enjoyed being with Gilbert, even without the conversation. If it were up to her, she would be relishing in the bliss of such a beautiful day, with the thick ivy cascading down friendly trees and the smiling faces of yellow and orange flowers greeting her as she moved past. But alas, her brain had other ideas.

On one hand she was thinking about how much her ankle was now beginning to painfully throb, and on the other she was thinking about how she could get out of the predicament that she had found herself in. She knew Ruby would not be happy if she could see Anne now, and Anne much preferred being friends with Ruby than letting her mind wander to people it shouldn't be wandering to. Although she couldn't help but notice the light trace his fingers left, making her tug at her sleeve nervously and subtly shake her head to try and dissolve the tempting feeling it gave her.

It almost felt like when a cold spring breeze passes through the forest trees and whistles gently to you, the soft wind caressing your cheek and leaving you flushed, feeling as though it had breathed new life into you. But then again, she thought, it wasn't cold like those mornings of dew and freshly grown flowers, it was warm like the midsummer nights. When the air was still and stars painted graceful hues of silver in the purple ecstasy of night, the smell of slightly dried wheat soaking through the soil. Skin slightly sticky from the water she'd allowed herself to slip into when she thought no one was watching, just to allow the cool ripples to lap at her neck whilst still maintaining a strong grip onto the river bank beside her.

Anne made a mental note to jot that down as idea for her new story.

She thought of making conversation so as to distract her from this new and unknown feeling, but had reservations as part of her thought that that might just make the whole situation a lot worse. Anne was surprised that Gilbert couldn't hear her thoughts as they seemed to be exerting as much volume as possible, each one trying to be louder than the next to catch her extremely divided attention.

Maybe he had however because he began to slow down and head towards a slightly damp looking tree stump in the middle of a small clearing, setting Anne down with care and allowing his hands to reluctantly fall from around her. He stayed quiet for a moment, breathing in the autumn air slowly, as though prolonging his very persistent question. Anne had already averted her eyes, choosing to stare at a fallen birch leaf which glowed a rather beautiful shade of gold, as though it had been dipped in treasure.

She knew she couldn't avoid his gaze for long but thought it was best to try and drag it out for as long as possible. She'd been doing rather well at it too, as Gilbert had already said her name three times before asking her something which managed to raise her head at a surprising speed.

"Are we friends?", he'd said, smiling as though she had said a joke, although letting it flicker and drop as he watched her blink in response.

Anne didn't answer, trying to see where she'd gone wrong in order for him to think that they weren't. She thought that perhaps she'd said or done something which seemed impertinent, or came across the wrong way.

"Gilbert th-" she stuttered momentarily. She wasn't particularly used to not knowing what to say. "Gilbert of course we are", her teeth began to nip at her lip nervously, wondering how exactly she could answer without slipping up and revealing too much.

He looked up at her slowly, allowing his gaze to travel up from her buckled black boots to the tips of her red braids. In the soft sun rays which filtered onto her face, her hair seemed to glow like fire, her eyes alight with the burning flames and her skin iridescent from the warm orange light. Gilbert thought that he quite liked looking at her like this, he could definitely get used to it.

"Gil I never mean to be rude or to ignore you, I certainly dont want you thinking that I dislike you. Its just difficult for me to be close friends with you because of wh-" and then Anne stopped herself with a sharp intake of breath. She knew Ruby would never forgive her if Gilbert found out about how Ruby 'had dibs'. Not that she wanted 'dibs' of course (although she internally smiled at the prospect); besides she's thought, Gilbert wasn't an object or an animal that she could claim her own.

Gilbert's ears had pricked up, his attention more focused on the words spilling from her lips rather than just her lips.

"Because of what? What do you mean?", he moved closer, rising slightly so that their heads were level.

"Im sorry but I can't say, it would be an injustice and I swore I wouldn't tell" Anne replied stubbornly, beginning to regain confidence at the thought of her friends.

"Oh how honourable of you" he grinned lightly, pulling at his sleeves so he could distract himself from the smile that was playing at the corners of Anne's mouth.

"Well I believe no less would be expected from Princess Cordelia", and now Gilbert was really grinning, and Anne was having trouble controlling her heart rate and the way her stomach would twist and flip at the sight of him.

There was a thread of light lacing itself across his face, weaving from the top of his right temple, down through his eye, across the bridge his nose and barely brushing the edge of his lips, finishing just on the line of his jaw with a golden pigment. She noticed the the way the slice of sunlight illuminated the green of his irises, reminding her of the lush green forests that were flush with dark wood and glistening leaves that she so often read about in books. Freckles lightly speckled and painted across his pink cheeks and nose, something she hadn't quite realised were there before. His lips red and soft looking, quirking upwards and exposing his teeth. His hair lay touched by soft shadows, each strand curling and winding as a few hung limp over his forehead. Anne quite liked his curls. Gilberts smile had began to fade, leaving behind a mellow expression on his face which looked so tender, and so kind that Anne was surprised that she hadn't melted into oblivion right then and there.

"I really am sorry Gil, I never meant to upset you", but he shook his head and blinked up at her, stretching out his fingers to push back a few strands of scarlet hair. As his skin touched hers almost torturously slow, he breathed in how soft it was, how warm she felt, how the contact could make the hairs on his neck stand on end and his heart skip what must've been at least several beats.

Anne thought it was a very peculiar feeling to suddenly have all of the breath sucked dry from her lungs, and to have feel each pound of her pulse as though it was a huge drum. It was such an extreme reaction compared to how lightly his fingers were brushing her cheek and neck, as if he were cautiously trying to touch a growling tiger that was ready to pounce at any given moment. They lingered on her jaw, his gaze flicking so quickly and so subtly to her lips that Anne was barely convinced that she saw it all.

"We should get going I suppose", he said quietly as though he didn't quite mean it, eyes still firmly focused on the redhead in front of him. "I suppose so" she replied with the same reluctance to avert her gaze.

So they watched each other for the few short seconds of hesitation. Taking in the angles of each others cheek bones and the spindles of light which so delicately embroiled itself into their iris's. Still focusing on the feeling of where they had touched, as though it had left a physical mark for them to see. Gilbert stood up slowly with a crunch of dry leaves beneath his feet. He held out his hand for her, pulling her arm around his neck once she had a solid grip, before looping his own arm around her torso and steadily walking as one down the crisp golden path.

"So 'Gil' huh?" he grinned lightly, allowing his fingers (which had gripped her wrist to help support her) to slip down to hers.

"Well I suppose that if you've given me a nickname, you should have one too" Anne replied quickly, her face turning a dark shade of pink. "Not that I particularly like my nickname, you really should come up with a better one"

"What?" he smiled, not noticing the small orange leaf which had just floated onto his shoulder "Carrots isn't good enough for you?".

She glared at him, allowing his fingers to gently lace between hers. "Its not very imaginative Gilbert, you could've at least been much more creative if you were going to mock me".

"Oh but carrots really does suit you, it'd be a shame to change something so good"

"I would've thought someone of your intellect couldn't possibly be so small minded, as to come up with the almost insultingly dim nickname of carrots. Something like... oh I don't know, 'rusty outhouse', would be much more subtitle".

It was many moments before Gilbert could regain his composure after that, he had to lean on a tree so that both himself and Anne wouldn't go toppling to the floor. All the while his fingers were still curled around hers tightly, eyes smiling wider than his lips and looking at her a though he would never stop. She quite liked that idea.

"Anne, you really are something else" he exhaled, only moments after he caught back his breath.

"Well you know I should hope so, how boring it would be to be plain and normal", she faltered slightly, "I mean personality wise, if we were talking about looks than I'm afraid to say I am far from interesting or beautiful, but I suppose you can't have everything in life".

Anne was grinning as though they were still joking around, and hadn't seemed to notice that Gilbert was no longer smiling. He could see green gables coming into view and knew that they had little time left, so very spontaneously, and almost as though his lips were leading him, he spoke the first thing that came to mind.

"If you want my opinion Anne, I think you're incredible. Im sure you can come up with a better word than I can as you have previously pointed out, but I think you look exquisite", and with that, Gilbert Blythe raised his chin confidently and tried to concentrate on anything but Anne incase that would stop her from noticing just how red his face was turning.

He didn't say anything else, only allowing his fingers to break free from hers, and instead gently fold them around her forearm which he deemed was probably more appropriate. She looked right at him, very ready to harshly berate him and potentially whack him over the head with a fallen tree branch - but she couldn't do it. Instead she could feel the heat from his skin and the fire from his eyes which were hooded with shadow. And she could smell the fresh pine needles beneath her feet which played so well with the sunken smoke in his coat and the sweet scent of toffee which seemed to follow him everywhere. And there was that constant lurch in the pit of her stomach which reminded her so vividly of when she fell from the roof ridge, but this time, she wasn't afraid of it.

Green Gables really was very close, the trees began to get thinner and thinner and Anne could see the clearing to the farm within a few metres of them. So, she did something rash.

Quickly, so quickly Gilbert wasn't even sure if it happened, she kissed his cheek.

"No," Anne was watching his eyes closely, her lips curling ever so slightly at the edges, "'exquisite' sounds perfect".

#anne of green gables #anne with an e #anne shirley #gilbert blythe #anne x gilbert #shirbert #fluff #anne and gilbert #Josie be wildin

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shanastoryteller · 7 years ago

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mmmmmmmkay okay so, you know, what if sion had been just a little smarter about how he handled the nezumi situation when he was twelve? like i get his naïve innocence is part of his charm and all, but this kid is also supposedly a genius, so, you know, i don’t think i’m going too far out of left field here.

so his mom tells him there’s a security alert about an escaped criminal and to acknowledge it when he goes back to his room, except this time shion puts two and two together and doesn’t bother, he knows who the security alert is about. so he goes back with dinner and gives it to nezumi, is just as kind and flaily and awkward and endearing as before. he still gives nezumi his sweater and holds his hand and curls in bed with him. nezumi turns into shion’s warmth, and that’s how they sleep, tangled up in each other. nezumi’s fever breaks in the middle of the night, and they get up just before dawn, when it’s still dark out. before nezumi goes, shion asks a favor – he has nezumi tie him up. and nezumi’s eyes widen, and he smiles again, because hey, that’s not a bad idea.

so when the security bureau shows up, karan shows them to her son’s room, and screams at what she find – her son bound and gagged, tear tracks down his face. he says the escaped prisoner came in and restrained him, and left a few hours ago, all of which is technically true, and he never opened the security alert, so they don’t question it – why would they? he’s part of the elite, and going to the advanced track, he’s going to be the best of them. so a criminal got the drop on him, he’s twelve after all. and the incident gets marked in his file, but he’s not found guilty of anything, they don’t suspect him of being a dissenter. because he’s not, not yet, he’s just a boy who saw someone in need of help and gave it, that’s all.

shion follows his path, going into the special curriculum with sefu, majoring in ecology. but he’s – well, he’s looking, not sure for what, but he is looking. and he sees it, eventually, and he sees what happens to people who know too much, and he says nothing. shion graduates early, and is given a prestigious position in the upper management of the parks maintenance center. and he’s only junior level, but it doesn’t take him long to figure out that something’s amiss.

the earth is dying.

not the whole earth, not the planet, but their corner of it is slowly fading, is unsustainable even though it shouldn’t be, even though the science says they should be fine. and, look, he’s karan’s son, right? he’s the son of one of the people who helped found no. 6. it’s why they’re elites in the first place. so when he warily starts poking around, all concern for their city and not even a whiff of disapproval over the things he knows, the stuff he’s figured out – well, they welcome him right into the inner circle, he’s eighteen and the youngest among them by thirty years, but he’s a genius and he’s loyal and his mother did so much for them, for this city, it seems only right that he give back too.

so, nezumi.

he tries to keep tabs on shion, but it’s hard. maybe if he’d gotten caught and lost some status he could have managed it, but information about elites is locked up tight, it’s a lot harder to get access to it. he knows he’s alive, that he got into that advanced school, but that’s it, that’s all he’s managed to figure out. but he’s still him, still closed off and angry, still so desperate for love and absolutely terrified at the prospect of caring about anyone and being cared about in return.

but he’s still an actor, is the leading lady in every shakespeare play that is performed, and a few others because he’s just that popular, is famous through his stage name eve, and he makes a tidy sum from his job and he’s still a fighter, of course, because he remembers what happened to him when he couldn’t fight, when he couldn’t defend himself.

anyway, he gets himself in a tough spot somehow, i don’t know. inukashi saves his ass, or bails him out of something, and he owes her big. and he hates owing inukashi anything, the girl who saw what was coming for them, coming for the forest folk, and ran. he can never decide if he’s jealous, or if he just hates her. it’s not fair. she got burned too, and in more ways than one. she survived, and didn’t suffer like he did, wasn’t traumatized like he was, because the dogs took her in. while he was captured for experiments in no. 6, she lived among the dogs, and learned to survive the only way she knew how – by turning her back on their life, and maybe that’s why he hates her so much, actually, even though it’s not fair. she was only a baby when it happened, when their forest was destroyed, their land taken from them, their people murdered. but he offered to teach her, once, when he found her and saw her burns, but she refused. she feels the clawing need for his songs, but doesn’t understand them, refuses to understand them. there was a time when the whole forest sang for them, and he wants so desperately to tell someone about it, wants so desperately to connect to this person who was like him, who was born of the forest folk even if she wasn’t raised among them, wants so desperately to help someone like shion helped him. but inukashi rejects all of it, rejects their whole heritage, and fair or not, he hates her for it.

so he owes inukashi. owing her makes his stomach flip, it makes him so uncomfortable he’d rather peel away his skin than deal with it. so, he did what he swore he would never do, and he goes to rikiga.

rikiga, who sells girls to high ranking no. 6 officials who like a taste of the wild side, who get off on pitying the girl they’re fucking. rikiga who once told him he’d make a lot more money working for him than he did as an actor.

“one night,” he says, and he hates this, but he hates it less than owing inukashi anything. “one night, and that’s it.”

he’d thought rikiga would be thrilled, but he actually looks conflicted. “if you need money, i can lend it to you,” he says.

nezumi blinks, taken aback, “why?”

“my girls make good money. they do it because they want to, because they’d rather work for me than do something else,” he says bluntly, “i don’t like taking people on who are too desperate for it. this is a business, not a slave trade.”

and, against his will and expectations, nezumi thinks for a moment that rikiga isn’t the worst person. “i don’t want to trade one debt for another. i’m the top paid actor in this place, i don’t need money that badly. it’s not you or death. it’s you or something deeply unpleasant, and i’d rather take you.”

rikiga signs and nods, and then that smarmy grin comes across his face, and nezumi’s more familiar with that, at least. “lucky for you, i have the perfect customer in mind, and his standing appointment is two days away.”

so, that’s that. nezumi shows up at rikiga’s business house in the place between their home and no. 6, and he’s given some clothes and make up, and he does his best not to scowl. he doesn’t mind the dress, he wears dresses all the time for his job, but he minds the point of the dress. it’s short and black, and too tight, and he does his makeup like he’s actually a girl, doesn’t put on stage make up because that looks horrendous face to face, and he doesn’t want to scare this guy off. or well, he wants to punch him in the face repeatedly, but if he does that not only will he not get paid, but he’ll owe rikiga too, which he doesn’t want.

the thought of letting a no. 6 official touch him makes him want to vomit and maybe kill someone, but it’s still not as bad as being in inukashi’s debt. he’s done worse for less.

he’s sitting on the bed, waiting, his hair loose around his face. he hears two sets of footsteps, and covetous whispering. then a light male voice he doesn’t recognize, “rikaga, who is this? i’m not going to talk in front of a stranger, i have you tell the girls to wait in your office for a reason.”

“i thought you might like this one,” rikaga says smugly, “you’re always paying premium price for my best girls, and you just send them away so we can talk. you should get your money’s worth for once.”

what is rikaga saying? why would someone pay that much money to not have sex?

“i come here to talk, not for sex, and you know it,” the man snaps, and nezumi thinks that voice almost sounds familiar. is it once of the people who had captured him when he was a kid, maybe? “you know coming to see you is the only way my coming here doesn’t raise suspicion. i’m here too often as it is. they think i’m a deviant.”

“and it makes them like you even more,” rikaga says dryly. “are you sure you won’t even take a look? i picked this one out special, just for you.”

“pay her and get her out of here,” the man says. “i’m paying for her time, and i’m not interested in having sex with her, so she can do whatever the hell she wants for the next couple of hours. my business is with you.”

they finally round the corner, and rikaga opens the cell door and they step inside. nezumi doesn’t look up, tense, because he knows what he looks like, he knows how attractive he is, and if this stranger is going to let him off the hook he doesn’t want to give him a reason to change his mind, and his face is a very good reason for this guy to change his mind. he makes his living off this face, he knows he’s beautiful.

“i’m sorry about this, there’s been a misunderstanding,” the man says kindly, and nezumi flinches. since when do no. 6 official actually sound kind? “you’re free to go. you will, of course, be compensated for your time.”

he finally risks a glance up, and his eyes meet soft brown eyes, and his mouth falls open. then he snarls and gets to his feet, grabbing him by the front of his shirt and slamming him against the wall. “you became one of them? you – you know, you must know, you’re an upper level official, and you still – i thought you were different.”

wide brown eyes stare at him uncomprehendingly for a moment, and this is somehow worse than inukaisha, to find out the soft, kind boy who helped him so long ago became – this.

shion’s eyes finally light up with recognition. “nezumi! you’re okay! i never knew - i hoped, and,” he twists his head to glare at rikaga, “i asked about nezumi and you said you’d never heard of him!”

“nezumi?” he asks, confused. “that’s eve.”

“eve is my stage name, you idiot,” he snarls. “what are you doing with him?”

rikiga goes cold. “none of your business. if you’re not wanted, then get out of here. we have important things to discuss.”

“he can stay, if he wants,” shion says, beaming. he covers nezumi’s hands with his own, and he’s not afraid, he should be afraid. nezumi wants to murder him, and then maybe find a hole to cry in, since apparently there’s not a single decent person left in the world, and if that’s the case then what is he living for, anyway. “we’re planning a revolution. want to help?”

“shion!” rikaga shouts, “you can’t just say things like that!”

nezumi’s grip slackens in surprise, and shion doesn’t hesitate. he throws himself at nezumi, wrapping his arms around him, unconcerned when nezumi stands stiff and still in his arms. he pulls back, but he keeps his warm hands curled around nezumi’s upper arms. his smile is warm too. “we’re going to destroy no. 6 from the inside out. i’ve put a lot effort in getting where i am today – a place where i have access to almost everything, where i know enough to actually do something about all of this. and i will do something. no. 6 has ran unchecked for too long, and it’s time for it to end.”

“i,” he licks his lips, “i don’t understand.”

shion goes harder then, something like steel in his eyes. “i don’t want what happened to you to happen to anyone else. you – you opened my eyes, nezumi, to everying i didn’t know, you were the one that led me down the path to discovering what was really going on in no. 6, to be becoming the person i am today.” he slides his hands down to nezumi’s arms to squeeze his hands. “help me again. help me destroy no. 6, and build something better in it’s place.”

“okay,” he says, a harsh whisper, because is this a dream, it feels like a dream, “okay.”

and that’s exactly what they did. and fell in love along the way while they were at it, of course.

#no. 6 anime #no. 6 #shion #nezumi #fandom ficcery

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